Please

Please

Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Requested by Anonymous

Kinks - Restraints + Begging

Summary

Marc is normally the one in charge, but he becomes a begging, whimpering, mess when you’re the one making the rules.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, smut, sub!Marc, restraints, crying men, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, begging, sex, pwp, reader is kinda dom

Word Count: 918

----

It started as a joke with the ankle restraint. Marc was fronting and you were walking up to the foot of the bed when Steven’s makeshift solution for his sleep-walking caught your eye, wrapped around the post to your left. You took it in your hand, raising an eyebrow at Marc with a smirk he’d come to recognize as a playful and devious one.

Now, a few sexual rendezvous later, you had both of his wrists tied together to the headboard, and both ankles spread apart and restrained on the posts at the foot of the bed and he was crying. His throbbing cock was reddened at the tip, leaking clear precum down the sides like a little fountain, and you were such a fucking tease. You leaned in, hands gripping either one of his powerful thighs as you pursed your lips and blew a gust of air on his weeping erection.

Marc tensed, rattling the restraints on the bed as his cock twitched in response.

“F-fuck baby, please just…” He planted his feet on the mattress and bucked his hips upward into nothing, growling as he did “when I get my hands on you,” he spoke harshly through gritted teeth, “gonna tie you down and make you piss yourself you need to come so bad honey.”

“Oh, Marc, honey, that’s not how you talk to me when you need your release is it? Seems like you should be asking a lot nicer.”

You swirled your finger around his precum slick head, inciting another choked whine from his spit glossed lips. He threw his head back, whimpering into the apartment. Such a pathetic little boy he was being. You chuckled, popping your finger in your mouth and lapping it free of his fluids. You smirked, biting your lip.

“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

You brought your hand so it was hovering just outside the length of his shaft. He glared at you, and you knew you needed to up the stakes. So you dropped your hand, smirking at him and then you straddled him, resting a leg on either side of his waist, pressing your hands on his chest and leaning in. You brought your lips close to his, and he kept them tightly pressed.

“Really Marc? Are you so prideful that you won’t beg me to fuck you? You don’t want my soft…” you started to lower yourself on him, “wet…” you got lower, his face was red and he looked like he might bite his lip off, “tight little cunt.”

You sat down completely on his lap, and you felt him thrust upward, getting himself in as deep as he could before you pulled off of him quickly. You tsked, leaning over and kissing his cheek. You could feel the tip of his cock resting at your entrance, bobbing desperately, begging you to let it in there all on its own.

“Come on Marc. Tell me how badly you want it baby.”

You heard a frustrated sob escape him. You let your lips and tongue drag over the vein protruding in his neck. He moaned deeply, and you felt him thrust forward, trying so hard to be defiant and get his way without giving you the payment you asked for. You looked at him and grabbed his stubbled jaw.

“Look at you, crying because you want this pussy so bad. All you have to do is ask nicely honey and I’ll give it to you,” you had such a shit eating grin on your face, you wondered if he would just summon the suit and put you in your place for your bratty attitude.

“Please,” he murmured quietly. 

“Nope, speak the hell up baby, I know you can do it.”

“Fuck…I said…please fuck me!”

“Good boy,” you said with that same smirk you knew was making him angry in the first place.

You’d never heard such whiny whimpers come from Marc’s lips until you started sliding your impossibly slick cunt over him. You moved fast, slamming your hips down in a hard and steady pace. Marc threw his head back, nothing but a raspy air expelling from his lungs. You leaned forward, taking one of his nipples into your mouth and flicking your tongue over it.

He grunted and shot his head back up to look at you. His eyes were dark and hooded with desire. You knew there was merit to his words earlier, that he was going to make a mess out of you once you were done with this little game he was letting you play.

Your game came to an explosive end when Marc’s hips stuttered and you felt his fat cock twitching wildly inside of you with every hot spurt he fed into your cunt. You kept moving harder and faster, chasing your own release until you were gushing your own mess over him in waves, using his cum to slide easier against that spot deep inside of you that only he could reach. 

You were both a moaning and panting heap as you put your entire body weight on him once you were completely spent. He didn’t seem interested in resting. Marc moved quickly, calling the suit around himself underneath your limp frame. He broke the restraints free, and in the process snapped the headboard and posts at the foot of the bed. You squealed when he grabbed your throat and hip, lifting you up and pinning you down underneath him.

“My turn babygirl.”

----

Moon Knight Masterlist

loser ≠ lover (m)

synopsis. He wants you so much, even if you’ll destroy him, because he’d let you.

fem reader x yandere oc.

warnings. yándere, öbsession, masochïstic tendencies, mentions of physical, emotional abûse, unhealthy thöughts, èxtreme obsession, obsessive thoughts.

note. MY FIRST OC!!!!! UHHH IM SO SO NERVOUS BECAUSE IM NEW TO THIS KIND OF THING BUT I HOPE YOU ALL WILL GIVE HIM A CHANCE. HES ALL YOURS TO INTERACT WITH, send fanart?!?? Please I’d be honoured, send asks talk to him!!!! 😭💌

second instalment x

loser boy who worships the ground you walk on!

Who licks off the dirt that trails off your shoes as you walk down the school hallway.

loser boy who is so obsessed with you that he can’t breathe if he can’t get a look at you.

loser boy who can’t feel anything but love for you, passion that pumps so hard in his veins for you, who can’t say a word without stuttering except your name.

Loser boy who follows you around like a lost puppy, who doesn’t care if your ‘friends’ cuss at him, if you call him a dirty dog.

At least you’re talking to him! God, he’s so lucky!

“Goodness fuck off! You sicko! How’d you find my address!?” You spit at him, your eyes filled so beautifully with hues of disgust, your luscious lips curled up in annoyance. He smiles so brightly at you, God, you’re so beautiful.

“O-Oh please! C-Call me more names! P-Please!” He begs, on his knees, his raven hair falling on his grey orbs, his lashes wet as he begs you.

You feel embarrassed, He notices, yet he feels his heart burning from the need to hear you insult him.

It’s been too long.

And that’s why he’s here, at 1 am right infront of your door, begging.

“Fucking masochist! You’re so disgusting! FUCK OFF.” The way your shoe hits his jaw, makes him moan out your name like a prayer.

You groan in anger, he gets up again, you struggle against him, your nails scratch him, the burn feels euphoric, he missed you so bad.

“You don’t understand huh?!? LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” You try to get away from him, the boy doesn’t let you, instead he grabs your legs, wrapping his arms around them, “n-no please! take me back please!” He’s sobbing.

Yet his heart loves the thrill of your resistance, it turns him on so much, his pants feel so painfully tight, “NEVER! You ARE NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING! You are of no use to me anymore!” you keep insulting him, it makes him feel so relieved.

You hadn’t been talking to him for so long, he almost went insane without you.

“Y-YN p-please kiss me!” He stands up, “p-please!”

“FUCK OFF Ezekiel!” His mind blurs.

His tongue lulls out and he whimpers as you finally utter his name out, it sounds so good, so erotic from your mouth, His name was made for you to call out.

He is so obsessed with you.

“S-Say it again… p-please!” Ezekiel stands up, his knees wobble, the stormy grey eyes are full of lust, craziness.

You roll your eyes at him again, it only makes him so much more excited, he loves your rejection so much, he always has.

Because it’s a unique bond between you, you treat him special, he knows.

“fuck off weirdo.” Ezekiel doesn’t say anything but pushes you against the door of your house, “YN…” he brings his face so much closer to you, he feels scared yet thrilled.

You’re so unpredictable, it makes him shake with anticipation.

“P-Please don’t leave- don’t-don’t abandon me! I-I’m sorry I disappointed you b-but he deserved it.” You raise your eyebrows at his ‘apology’

“No. Get away from me you sick freak! You had no right to beat him up like that, who are you huh? My boyfriend? Please…” you scoff, “you’re nothing to me Ezekiel, absolutely nothing.” You spit again at him.

God.

“You’re just a pathetic man who gets me off. You’re just a pastime you get that?” You point your finger to his chest.

“Y’know you’re lucky you have a big dick and a pretty face. sometimes you’re obedient too and you make good punching bag.” You laugh so cruelly, venom drips in your words.

Yet he takes it as words of praise.

“You’re like my dog.”

Yes he is.

“S-So please just take me back? I-I’m so sorry YN…. Please punish me but not like this! H-HIT ME.” He takes your hand and swipes it hard across his cheek.

You gasp in surprise, Ezekiel looks at you with pure desperation. “Please! I-I can’t live without you,” he bites his lower lip, the mole under his lips becomes more evident.

“I-I can please you! I can help you get off! Please let me- give me a chance- I’ll make you cum as many times you’ll want to- PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION!”

“P-Please!”

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 jason meets a single father, desperate for a chance at love again. little did you know, you’re right up his alley! ~

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X MALE! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — ftm!reader, dilf!reader, red hood! jason in mind, age gap [reader is in his 30s while jason is 23] mentions of divorce, sexting, doggy style, implied size differences, breeding, jason wants to knock you up so bad omfg

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ this was lowkey a little self indulgent but can you blame me? no. now shush and enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡. — jason todd never really cared about his dating life, and really why should he? getting blown up, resurrected and busting some heads open keeps a man busy! if he’s not dealing with black mask’s goons or the bat himself, you can find him in the nearest diner enjoying his own company. that is of course..until he laid eyes on you.

ᥫ᭡. — alone and pretty, you sat at the bar stood a couple feet away from him. staring down at the empty pit of your dark coffee, you’re heart heavy and tears threatening to spill out. jason, while having a hard outer, still had a little heart to scotch over and struck up small talk with you. after all, he did say it himself that he is a good listener! after some innocent chatter, you finally allowed the friendly face to fall and began to vent to the stranger. you’re recent yet messy divorce from your ex-husband, the juvenile drama he brought, the exhausting routine of juggling work with your daughter—wait. you had a daughter?! jason eyes widened, finally allowing himself the realization. you were one hell of a dilf! <3

ᥫ᭡. — despite being nearly a decade apart in age, you looked so damn good. tired eyes peering upwards at him with that adorable, gentle smile. fuck, you were so small compared to him. he could’ve easily picked you up and threw you over his huge shoulders and just take you away, back to his place. his bed. he couldn’t stop the lewd images from flooding his head, you taking his girth in that pretty mouth or face down while he dicked you down doggy style. you’d make the prettiest noises while he breeds your pretty pussy full, only to flip you onto your back and ass fuck you until you ruin the sheets.

ᥫ᭡. — fuck it. he thought to himself as you walked out of the diner happier then before, and with his number too! the next few weeks, every text the vigilante sent you made you feel more in love then your last marriage could’ve gave you. of course, the conversation didn’t stay innocent for long. soon, jason began to open his texts to pictures of you in the sexiest lingerie, you’re legs spread open to show off your needy cunt. strip tease pictures at your workplace’s restrooms in your uniform, and the audios…you’d send him a particularly lewd audio of you fucking yourself with one of your many sex toys you’ve stashed away, moaning jason’s name and begging him to come over and satiate your neglected desires. safe to say, he drove like a madman to your house the next night your daughter is with a sitter.

“o-oh jason! don’t stop please..!”

just like the way he wanted, you face down and ass high up for him to fuck your cunt stupid while you moaned like a bitch in heat. your cute cheeks were littered with his giant handprints from his harsh spankings. you were fuckin’ perfect.

“mm keep talking baby, takin’ me so well like a good little boy yeah?”

jason knew the comedic irony of calling you, an older man, a little boy. yet the name made you clench around his girth with a sigh of pleasure leaking through your drooling lips. you loved that name, a lot. something that snapped the rope of control in two, unleashing an insatiable nature that only existed in his disgusting fantasies.

jason pulled out, grabbing you by your upper body before practically manhandling you onto your back. before you could even make a noise, the young man pressed his whole weight against yours and sunk his cock into you until he was already balls deep. taking it from behind was a challenge in itself, yet he outdid himself once again as a strained moan tore itself out of your throat.

“shhh..” jason’s shushes tickled your ear, drowning out your shakey whines. “relax baby, can’t fuck a baby in you if your squirmin’ like that.”

oh..oh shit. it was enough to have you clench around his girth as he snapped his hips against yours with an unforgiving pace. a pace that spoke more then whatever came out of his mouth. nothing but promises of another baby, a sibling for your little girl from a man you met in a diner not long ago.

“just like that! like that ja..son! oh god!”

nails raked against the bare skin of his back as your felt that familiar yet distant feeling of your orgasm inching closer and closer, eyes rolled to your brain as jason kept spewing out profanities and coos of faux sympathy.

“shiiit, can’t believe you’re husband left you baby. i would’ve knocked you up every chance i got, treat you like a damn prince..”

he was right, you’re husband never gave you sex this good nor did he spoke such words that went straight into your cunt. every praise, every groan and grunt jason let out pushed you closer and closer..until you finally snapped.

“j-ja-SON! MMM FUCK!”

you gushed all over the vigilante’s cock as he painted your pussy white, breeding you until you couldn’t hold another drop in. the pleasure could’ve damn well nearly killed you as you laid there near unconscious and panting like a dog. jason, however, was only getting started.

“don’t think i’m done with you yet boy..it ain’t over till you’re kid has a sibling.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

Go Go dancin tonight (Part 1 )

Warnings!! 18+ stripping, threesome, oral (m, receiving), praising/degrading language, penetration maybe more idk.

pairing: Greg House x f/Reader x James Wilson

It had been a relatively quiet night despite the flashing lights and blaring music, unfortunately though this was bad news for your bank account. You had taken on the job of dancing half naked in front of horny guys as a side hustle, apparently you completely misjudged just how cost effective living in New Jersey could be. Anyway, you still managed to waggle your hips and bat your eyelashes enough to end up with a new designer bag or some new heels by the end of the week, courtesy of the old cheating bastards. 

As you were a couple boring dances into the night you just needed some excitement. Someone interesting to help pass the time but of course with your luck an extremely dull looking man requests you. You sigh before putting on your best showgirl face and trail over to him, pulling your leg up onto his table staring into his eyes. You point to your thigh band without muttering a word.

The man sits dumbly for a second before realising what you were insinuating, bringing out his battered wallet, he fishes for a 20 dollar note and places it inside the band.

Raising your eyebrows you keep your leg and glance the same. If you were going to spin around and perform on a poll, in your underwear, for this guy he could cough up more than a lousy 20.

Catching on, he grabs another 20 from his wallet and in doing so tries to make conversation as you reluctantly accept the measly $40.

“Boy you don't ask for much do you? He mumbles sarcastically, placing the other 20 into your thigh band.

You give a mocking smile back and lean closer into him to whisper in a hush tone

“If you looked like me, would you dance for a lousy 20?”

 Not expecting your reply he lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head slowly 

“Suppose not.”

As you're about half way through the dull man's dance you spot two handsome middle aged men walking through the door. One looks pretty apprehensive about being here, probably scared of being seen as disrespectful or something. While the other man's face looked like he had just won an all inclusive holiday.

Still performing you can't help but keep your gaze on them, analysing them. Trying to figure out how well they could play your game. As your eyes stick to them like honey, the excited man holding a cane caught your prolonged stare. Holding his gaze as the other man rambled on in his ear, you give him a cheeky grin and a wink before turning away to finish your cheap dance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“House I seriously don't know about this I mean I-” Wilson rambles on at the door, looking around at everyone in the club.

House’s wide grin fades as he cuts Wilson off with a huff  “Will you just shut up and pick one?” pointing to the multiple women dressed in lingerie and big heels.

He most definitely wasn't letting Wilson back out of this now. Not when he had seen the sheer amount of dancers dotted around. House's eyes scanned the club as he spoke, feeling someone's eyes pried over to him and that's when he catches your stare. Fuck you were hot. He knew just by the way your siren eyes pierced his, that you were going to be fun.

Letting out a flustered scoff Wilson turns to House, who is too busy peering over at you.

 “Pick one, what like they're some donuts in a box, I mean it just feels a little degrading and- What are you looking at?”

 He looks over House's shoulder trying to see what had caught his attention so quickly, when he laid his eyes upon you.

Wow. Okay maybe staying for a while wouldn't hurt.

“Sweet Jesus, her. I pick her.”

 House turns to Wilson and furrows his brows in slight jealousy 

“No. Pick another one, I saw her first.”

James shakes his head with a serious expression “You said to pick a dancer and I picked her, so she's gonna be my dancer. And plus you don't own her, she can dance for whoever she wants.”

 Before pausing he continues “which will be me.”

House laughs at him in irony “Yeah well when you were too busy whining she was eye fucking me, Mr Hypocrite” 

 Wilson crossed his arms over his chest as he rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah sure she was House, was she also doing a cartwheel while playing the guitar?”

“Mock all you want but it's obvious she’ll choose me, I mean she works in a strip club for god sake, I'll be surprised if she isn't riddled with daddy issues.And I'm older so I seem more well, daddier than you”

House says while giving Wilson a smug look.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After finishing the dance you walk over to the bar to have a chat with the very kind barman who gives you a free shot to loosen up the night. When downing the tequila shot you hear the voice of someone to the right of you.

“Drinking on the job? No judgement, I do too but sometimes the guys im poking with a needle can get a little funny” 

You turn your head and realise it was the man from earlier, and the other cute one sat to the right of him.

Smirking you decide to entertain the very handsome yet funny guy.

 “Well most people like tits and booze, not sure tequila and hospitals go together too well. Unless you're giving out a different type of needle.”

He smirked, now you had him really interested, and not just in your body.

“What if I'm both a doctor and a junkie?”

“Hm, junkie and medical malpractice I can't tell which one turns me on more” You mock as he sips his drink keeping his eyes stuck to your lips.

Before he could answer you lean forward trying to catch a glimpse of his timid friend

“Is your friend also a doctor?”

Wilsons head lifted from his drink over to you at the mention of him, giving you a tight lipped smile

“Oh yeah he saves cancer kiddies, boring I know” House jokes before turning the conversation back to you.

“So how much does a pretty girl like you charge for a dance?”

Moving your eyes from the cocky guy's friend over to his you can't help but want to entertain them both. It was obvious the timid one also wanted a dance from you, but apparently the blue eyed doctor was far more forward with his desires.

“Well i'm very expensive you see, how much is a doctor like you willing to pay?” you say while looking him up and down.

“$100.” The blue eyed man says.

“$150.” the timid man challenges.

There it was, you knew there was more than shyness to him, a good looking man like him could have a girl like you begging for it.

House turned his head to Wilson with a pissed off look before turning back to you

“Fine. $200”

Laughing at their competition for your attention you look between them both.

“Oh come on boys there's enough to go around, as long as you have the cash.”

You would have let them sit and bid higher for your service but for once you actually wanted to dance for them. You wanted them to see you strip, the way your body can swing around a poll.

Smirking, you grab the blue eyed doctor's hand and begin to make your way to the private rooms. Wilson clearly did not catch onto your statement, staying seated in defeat as you grabbed Houses hand. Once you realised the other man stayed sat you turned to him, cocking an eyebrow.

“You not coming? You seemed pretty keen early”

And with that he immediately stood up and followed you to the room, on your trip across the bar you were itching to know their names. Turing to the tall confident man you ask

“So what should I call you? Dr what?”

 “Call me Greg.”

“And what about you baby?” you ask the brown eyed doctor sweetly. You wanted to see how the clearly more confident man would react to giving his friend a more intimate name.

Smiling and blushing at your pet name he clears his voice before telling you to call him James.

The private room was lined with cushioned walls, with a big round booth couch.

In the middle of the circle there was a round platform with a long silver poll attached. There was a small table at the front of the room, lined with booze, an ashtrays and a pack of smokes.

House and Wilson took in the aesthetic of the room before Wilson took a seat on the couch and House grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table.

Finally situated in their seats, Wilson gawking at you and House sat drinking from the bottle also infatuated with you, as you slowly strutted around the poll, letting them take in every part of your body. The song 'Money Honey' by Lady Gaga played softly in the background as you slid down the poll, now sat directly in front of them on your knees with your legs spread wide apart and your arms up connected around the poll.

“So do you usually take two men at a time?” House asks and you giggle, very aware he wasn't just asking about dancing for two men.

Wilson groaned into his hands, before turning to the eager man sitting beside him “Jesus House.”

‘ House. Hmh as in Doctor House? Greg was boring. House fit him better’ you thought to yourself.

You look at the flustered man and back to House to answer the question.

“Well it's usually against the rules, you know the whole three's a crowd thing but I can make an exception for sexy doctors, House.”

 You say drawing out the name, completely ignoring the fact he told you to call him Greg.

“Are there any other rules?” James asks, you think it's sweet. You’re standing in front of him with your legs spread and he's still keen to make sure you're comfortable.

“Yes. No touching, or security will throw you out regardless of your dicks in your hands.” You say smiling. 

Wilson nods, starting to get impatient he asks “How should we pay you?”

You lean forward exposing your chest from your small outfit in front of the men's eyes. 

House's eyes widen and he bites his lip, pulling two $100 dollar bills from his pocket and placing them in your bra.

Wilson does the same but as he does you lick your lips and stare up at him with fuck me eyes.

“What do you want me to do James? Anything you want, just say it.”

He takes a breath, feeling slightly overwhelmed with all the things he wanted you to do in that moment.

“Can you bend over? Please?”

You give an endearing smile at his politeness and stand up, bending over in front of him.

“So do you guys like fuck together or something?” you ask out of pure curiosity.

Their eyes were glued to your ass, the question startling Wilson who let out a nervous laugh and began to protest while House stayed silent with his lip in between his teeth admiring your behind.

“No, no God no!” Wilson threw his hands up in defence but what you found more interesting was House's silence.

You turn back around bring your face inches from House’s and stared at his lips.

“And what about you? House. What do you want mhm?”

Not a second goes by before he answers. “To touch you.”

“Well my boss wouldn't be too happy about that. Pick something else.” You tell him in a sweet yet demanding tone.

He persists but the way you teased him had him nearly exploding

“I didn't mean now, somewhere your boss wouldn't know about it” He replies ignoring your question.

You never usually felt so worked up and flustered by clients, to you it was just a job but with these too it was different. You wanted them both. If you were honest you wanted House to touch you, while James watched.

“I'm not a whore.” you reply while still remaining inches away from his lips.

He smirks and stares back, matching your energy. He could see behind your cool composure.  He could tell you wanted him and Wilson to fuck you even if you acted like you werent fazed by the men.

“I wouldn't pay.”

Moving away you stand up and sit in between House and Wilson, facing towards Wilson and your back to House. Ignoring his advances.Wilson’s eyes had trailed over your chest in the process.

“Do you want me to take off my bra James?”

“God yes” He hums out

As you start to take off your bra, House scoffs from behind you which makes you smile. His obvious frustration was such a turn on, you couldn't help it. Taking the dollar bills from earlier and slipping them into your underwear you undress while keeping deep eye contact with the very attractive doctor sat in front of you.

“Hey it's my turn, he already got a request. And why do you call him by the name he gave but not me? His surname Wilson by the way.” He whines in jealousy, only seeing your bear back instead of your tits.

“You wasted your chance House, plus he's more polite than you”

Toying with him was more amusing than you initially thought it would be. But you also were trying to pay less attention to House because if you didnt you knew he'd have you bent over in some hotel room screaming his name.

Your tits were now fully exposed to Wilson, throwing the small piece of fabric other at House, just being careful enough to not expose your chest to him. You grin at the way his face lights up, but you also notice the way his pants tighten.

“Do you want to fuck me James? Are you turned on right now? You whisper in his ear, not close enough to touch him but loud enough for House to hear.

He looked up from your tits and to your face “Do you want me to fuck you? Are you turned on?” He asks sternly.

You can't help but be slightly taken back as just a minute ago he was as shy as anything. However, you just smile up at him and get up from the couch taking the bottle from House's hands and you take a large swig.

“Fuck me, theyre beautiful” House mutters under his heavy breath, finally getting a glimpse at your chest.

You stand back up on the poll and with one hand on the poll and the other attached the whiskey bottle and dropped your body so your legs were spread

“How long have you been doing this?” James asks 

 “3 months.”

“Does striping and dancing for horny men get you off? Do you ever want to fuck a client?” House pipes up.

“Does taking my clothes off for mostly cheating men make me wet? I mean sometimes. Have you ever slept with a patient?”

House quickly deflects onto Wilson “He fucked his dying patient, not the whole prince charming you think he is huh.”

Wilson glares over at House “Well that's not fair, it wasn't like that I merely-”

You interrupted not wanting to know more, you weirdly liked he was a little selfish. 

“You don't need to explain yourself to me James. Everyone has needs right?”

House lets out a chuckle staring in between your legs “You can say that again.”

“Sorry I didn't ask earlier but what's your name?” James asks, realising both him and House had only directly spoken to you and didnt ask your name.

“Cherry.” you answer quickly.

“Not your dirty stripper name, what's your actual name sweetheart?” House asks, he was now set on not only fucking you but also trying to figure you out.

You interested him. You were his new sexy puzzle.

“Why should I tell you?” you ask innocently now sat down with your legs in the splits position.

“So I know what name I'm supposed to moan when I'm buried inside you.”

House states while grabbing the bottle from your hand.

The amount of sexual tension in the room must have gotten you high, as you wanted that, but not just him. You wanted James as well, were they that horny for you they'd have a threesome? You woudn't usually do this. You don't fuck clients, you just dont. However, you didn't even see them as clients anymore, just some older men looking for mutual fun.

“(y,n).”

“Is that a yes?” 

House asks at your eagerness to give in. If you weren’t going to fuck him you would have stuck with your stripper name. Played it safe. But you didn't.

Now lying on the platform you arch your back and stare up to House.

“I'll tell you what House, I'll fuck you, because i'm really turned on right now but only on one condition.”

He hums in amusement looking at Wilson's disappointed face. House had won. Again. 

“Yeah and what's that princess (y,n)” He asks with a cocked brow.

“I want James there too. Not just watching either.”

James' face lights up with a smile but also slight concern. God you meant you wanted both of them to fuck you.

House tensed his jaw before thinking about it. Jesus he must have been drunk of the whisky, or just drunk from you but either way he realised his desire for you in that moment was greater than his pride. 

“Okay.” House says looking over at Wilson.

Wilsons face screws up at House's agreement. I mean he wanted you too but could he really deal with House mentioning a threesome anytime he wanted something from him. 

“Okay? Just like that?” Wilson asks in shock.

“Look, I'm not gonna touch you, you're not gonna touch me. We both get to taste heaven tonight. Win, win."

Wilsons held his face in his hands unsure what to do, until you had manoeuvered from your place and was now currently standing behind him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, breaking the no touch rule and leaned into his ear, begging him sweetly.

“Come on James, I need you. Sharings carings.” you moan into his ear, your voice heavy with desperation.

nanny!reader but price is married to a bitch who doesn't like him, their kids, and absolutely HATES reader. ik cheating is bad but c'mon PLEASE

(18+ smut, fem!reader, nanny!reader, infidelity but not by you x, daddy kink which is crazy cause who the hell am i rn writing a daddy kink, breeding kink which is def not a surprise, usual fern unedited shit, abrupt ending, ok that’s it)

—•—

you could feel his wedding band.

the cold press of white gold against the hot curve of your arse. your skin was burning up, on fire. his hands were hot, too. warm and white-knuckled. callouses on the pads of his palms.

you could feel it when he pawed at your breasts, kneading with strong fingers. the press of the metal against the fat there made your eyes roll, whimpers falling from your mouth.

you could feel it when he was knuckle-deep in the tight, warm heat of your cunt. gushing around two fingers, dripping over his hairy knuckles. scissoring you open, kiss-swollen and puffy, clit racing with your heartbeat.

when you could feel it, inside you on some other part of your body, it made your heart race and your stomach flip. it got you excited. maybe it got you excited because it was a wedding band that you didn’t give him.

in the back seat of his car, you could feel it pressing against the back of your neck as he held you there and bounced you on his cock.

in the back seat of the car he had chosen with his wife. that smelled of the air-freshener she had chosen.

he had you straddling him, thick thighs sitting alongside his, the fat rippling with each of his heavy thrusts upwards. he grunted with each one, too. each time the flared head of his cock knocked upwards, he grunted. each time your pussy clenched around him, milking him, he grunted, jaw clenched.

the car rocked. like a boat atop a wake. the car he let his wife choose rocked as he fucked the woman who cared for his kids. who acted more the mother than she did.

it rocked as you moaned, one hand resting on his broad shoulder, the other smearing down the fogged window, tinted but not impenetrable. it was dark outside, the moon illuminating the front section of your house.

the hand around the back of your neck kept you grounded. kept you slamming down onto him. kept your swollen clit brushing against the coarse patch of hair at the base of his cock. a cock which split you open, which had your soaked cunt spilling around him, running onto the seats.

the seats which she designed. the wife. which she had chosen, and he had approved, and in reality she really didn’t give that much of a thought. she didn’t like them in the end.

you liked them. they were comfortable, and the colour was nice.

you could see a lot of that colour in your blurred vision, swimming with tears. john kept his hand on the back of your neck, the other on one of your soft hips. he pulled you, with force, downwards to meet his thrusts, cockhead punching the air from your lungs.

you moaned his name, and he grunted in return. the hand on the back of your neck eventually found your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin. holding. securely.

your body moved with him, pressure building in the depths of your stomach. somewhere deep in the marrow of your bones.

and when two of his fingers slipped into your parted mouth— his middle and his ring finger— and when you could feel the press of his wedding band against your lips, as the pads rested against your tongue, you saw stars. came so hard it made you dizzy.

or,

on his bed. that he shares with his wife. a wife who could never truly love him as much as you loved him. not that you told him that, but you assumed that he probably knew, deep down.

so, of course, you let him fuck you. let him fold you over with your chest pressed into the bed, your arse in the air, knees dimpling the mattress, face pressed into the sheets that smelled of him.

his hips slammed into you, hairy thighs pushing against you. you had felt that wedding band when he coaxed you onto your knees after making you come around his tongue, and then again when he pulled your arse cheeks apart to spit against your holes.

you felt it when he fingered the spit into the wet clutch of your pussy, and felt it when he teasingly slid his thumb, skimmed his thumb, over your arsehole. you felt it when he gripped the fat of your arse, wiping a wet J across your skin. and you felt it when he spread you again and slowly pushed his cock into your cunt.

you wanted to feel it all the time. it fed into your dark little fantasy that he belonged to you. that you weren’t just some nanny for his kids.

eyes closed, you focused on the pleasure. the velveteen ridges of his cock rubbing against the gummy walls of your cunt, the vein running along the underside, the way he held your hips and fucked into you.

rutted into you whilst pawing at your flesh. leaning forward, john’s belly pressed against your lower back, and he reached around your soft body to rub at your clit. you could feel the wedding band, warm now, skim against your mons. fleeting, but it made you moan as he began toying with your clit.

he fed into your fantasies. while his wife was at a work conference, doing god-knows-what with god-knows-who, he had his nanny— his play-pretend wife— folded like a seashell beneath him, playing with her pearl, so to speak.

“so noisy, sweet girl. y’gonna wake the kids, hm?” he whispered, voice dark. “gonna wake our kids.”

you bit into the sheets beneath you, moans catching in your throat. the slick sound of your pussy had your head in a spin, and the weight of his cock pistoning in and out of you made you want to cry out.

“my special girl, always takin’ such good care of ‘em. and y’take such good care of me, too, don’t you?” john grunted out, bed creaking, balls slapping against you, warm.

you nodded, breathing hard.

john hummed, pleased, continuing to rub at your clit in tight, but sloppy circles. you were so wet, sopping around his cock, folds puffy and glistening.

“best wife a man could ask for,” he told you in a way that almost pushed you over the edge. you held strong, though, as your legs started to tremble. he continued, “got me a pretty little bird, didn’t i? ‘m so fuckin’ lucky, baby.”

you whimpered. mewled. the fingers on your clit were lead-heavy and molten hot. static built in the base of your spine, pleasure rocking through every single one of your nerves. you felt yourself gushing around him.

you don’t know how he managed to get you this wet every time you fucked, but he did. maybe it was the years of experience. maybe it was just john being john. either way, he was the best fuck you’d ever have. and, if he could help it, the only one you’d ever have again.

he groaned above you. “mhm, that’s right. that’s right, pretty girl, keep this pussy nice n’ tight for me— that’s it, can feel you squeezin’ me. you wanna come?”

you nodded. you didn’t even know if you wanted to come, but your body was on the brink of something. tingling, pressure. either, you were about to have the hardest orgasm of your life, or you were about to have an outer-body experience. maybe both.

you could feel the wedding band against the soft, bare skin of your hip as he quickly shifted his hand away from your clit to really fuck you. a good couple of thrusts, and you were coming all over his cock— with a loud cry of his name, but muffled by the sheets.

your pussy gushed around him, leaking down your thighs, and you cried out for him— please, please, please, as he stuffed you full of his cock. in and out, drawing squelches and suction sounds. wet and warm and tight.

“let’s put another baby into you. eh, pretty? let me stuff this wet cunt— let me put a baby in this tummy of yours,” he cooed, hoarse and gruff and the type of man you knew you wanted to have kids with. i mean, you didn’t actually have any kids of your own, but you had his to look after. and those were close enough. he moaned, uttering, “m’gonna come inside you.”

gripping, kneading, squeezing. the wedding band on your skin. you sobbed into the sheets.

john groaned. “that’s it, sweet girl. just like that. m’gonna come. you— fuck, you gonna ask your daddy to come inside you?

you were still sobbing at the overwhelming pleasure. you turned your head to plead with him. “please, john, please come inside me— please, daddy, fuck—”

he spoke over you as he bucked his hips. “yeah, uh-huh, that’s it, baby. that’s— yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, m’gonna make you a mama— gonna make you my wife—”

he came inside you with a guttural moan, his cock wedged tightly inside your heat, which pulsed around him with the force of your third (?— probably, something like that. you lost count a while ago) orgasm of the night. you mewled into the mattress like a cat.

and then he fucked his cum into you. pushed it right towards the plug of your cervix with his wedding band on his finger and his hands holding you still beneath him.

holding his nanny still beneath him as he fucked a fat load of come into her soaked pussy. wishing to get her pregnant.

one day, you wouk be his wife. but for now, you were content with him fucking you within an inch of your life, then complaining about his actual wife just the next day.

what a life you live, huh?