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veinsandknuckles · 2 years

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Oh, Wolfie pt 2

Brad Bakshi/inexperienced f!reader Explicit Not BETA'd (I was a little tipsy writing this!) Warnings: mentions of bad previous sexual experiences, slight D/S dynamics, Brad can be interpreted as being a decent person. Lmk if I missed anything!

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Well, this certainly wasn’t how Brad had expected the evening to go. He usually knew better than to mix business with this kind of pleasure, but you looked so pretty and so desperate he didn’t really want to stop himself.

He didn’t usually go for the innocent type, either - he’d never understood this obsession with inexperience and in his opinion, men who chased after much younger women were just pathetic. If you couldn’t get the upper hand without giving your partner a handicap, winning didn’t count for much.

But someone else had already tried with you without succeeding, that was clear by the way you tensed and hesitated, both wanting and not wanting. They hadn’t been able to touch you the way you wanted to be touched, they hadn’t been able to make you fall apart. He knew he could - you were so shy now, but he was sure he could make you cry and beg and spill all sorts of dirty little secrets. If he played this right, you could go on to spend night after night with other people, but there’d always be a part of you that belonged to him. That was an appealing thought.

Of course, it was equally possible that the two of you were not compatible at all and if so, well, what did it matter? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Brad slipped away from you, wedged one of the lawn chairs under the door handle and tested the door. It didn’t budge. He turned to you with a smile, beckoned you closer and sat down on the corner of the couch with his back to the wall and his legs sprawled out. When you came close enough to he took your hand again and manoeuvred you so you could sit between his legs and lean back against his chest. Now he could hold you still, play with you as long as he wanted while you were spread open and at his mercy.

----

When Brad slipped his hand up underneath your skirt this time, you didn’t resist. His touch was gentle and methodical, you felt his heartbeat against your back and his breath tickling your neck, slow and steady. At least one of you seemed to know what they were doing and that was reassuring.

Gradually, you let your legs relax and fall apart. “That’s it,” he cooed. When he ran his hand up your thigh and found it already sticky to the touch, he laughed.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “Don’t tease...”

Brad tugged your panties to one side and dragged his fingers through your slick. You gasped and jolted and he shushed you like you’d reassure a wild and nervous cat, brought his other hand up to stroke your neck and throat and urged you to relax back against him again.

“Just let it happen,” he murmured. “Let me play with you.”

“Oh god... Yes, I will.”

As soon as you settled, he picked up a rhythm; stroking your cunt, teasing your clit, listening and watching for what made you gasp and squirm, then testing the same movement again to see just what made you tick. When his fingers dipped down lower, almost slipping inside of you, you could hear how wet you were and turned your head away, embarrassed.

“There’s no point trying to hide now, princess. I can feel how bad you want it.”

His words by your ear made you shiver. You let your head fall back against his shoulder and screwed your eyes shut.

“Please,” you breathed. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah? You want me to get filthy?”

“...Yes.”

Brad laughed and dipped his fingers a little deeper, just to hear you squeal, then settled into a gentle, steady pace of small circles pressing down against the hood of your clit. “So how long have you been thinking about this, hm? Have you been watching me?”

“Yeah... yeah, I’ve been watching you. You’re gorgeous.”

“Mmh. And how many times have you played with yourself and thought of me?”

“Oh God...” you bucked your hips and he followed your movements with his fingers, finding the spot you guided him to. “I’ve lost count.”

“Good girl.” You could hear his smile. He didn’t seem at all surprised. “Shame you were too shy to tell me, I could’ve had you over my desk any time.”

You couldn’t help picturing it - not for the first time, but so much more vividly now. Did he picture it too? You, on your back, shirt torn open; his hands on your hip, on your shoulder, holding you in place so he could bury himself deeper with every stroke... or taking you from behind, pulling on your hair until you could barely breathe. “Oh, god, Brad... is that what you want?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want. I could use something to take out my frustrations on.”

You pressed your hand over your mouth so he wouldn’t hear your sobbing little moan, but even if you could have stifled it, there was no way he couldn’t feel the effect his words had on you.

“Yeah,” he purred. “You’re all shy and innocent now, but I bet you’ll be begging me to fuck you in no time.” he spoke so softly, so menacingly. He must be testing you, there was no way he really knew. ”Be honest, you’re not scared what I’ll do to you, you’re scared I’ll find out what filthy little ideas are in that cute head of yours.”

Yes, yes, drag it all out of me, let me pretend it was all you and I couldn’t help myself... You squirmed in your seat, felt yourself becoming soft and pliable as your need grew stronger than your nerves. When you shifted you could feel his cock pressing against your lower back, already so hard it must make the weight of you against him painful.

And still, he was taking his time as if playing with you like this was all he wanted. “No,” you breathed, without trying to sound believable.

“Oh, so you want me to stop?” And Brad actually had the nerve to pull his hands away, even though his tone made it clear he knew you were lying.

“No! Please, Brad...”

This time, he closed his fingers around your throat, not squeezing it but not about to let go either. His lips teased your ear. “Then admit it.”

Oh, God. “I want you.”

He was finding his rhythm against your cunt again, but gentler now as a punishment. “What else?”

“I want you to fuck me...”

“And what else?”

“Oh, god... !” You ground up against his hand but he wouldn’t budge. “I want you to be rough with me, and selfish... just... take what you want.”

Brad groaned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You want to be used.”

“Oh... oh, yes, please...”

“That’s my girl.”

----

You were shivering in his arms, rocking your hips against his touch and every little breath you released came out in a soft little moan.

So pretty. Brad hadn’t expected you to get so worked up so soon, but he knew he still had to take his time with you no matter how desperately you pleaded. He could tell you weren’t faking, but he could also feel the way you tensed. There was none of that tell-tale slowly building rhythm yet but a constant tension, as if you were bracing for impact, protecting yourself. Whoever you’d been with, whether they’d been bad or just indifferent, they hadn’t shown you how to let go with another person. It wasn’t something you could control, it would probably ease off gradually with time and patience. Perhaps it’d take more time and patience than he had in one night, but he was determined to try. It wasn’t enough to just take you, Brad wanted to see you lose yourself, completely at his mercy.

Would you plead? Call out his name? Shake, cry, scratch?

He swallowed and forced himself not to rush ahead, even in his thoughts.

“Alright, let’s go.” Brad let go of you and gently nudged you to stand up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere warmer. You’re shaking.”

#brad bakshi #brad bakshi imagine #brad bakshi x reader #mythic quest #mythic quest fanfic #Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet #brad bakshi x you #my fics #idk if this is anything but if it's not I'll just edit it later

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veinsandknuckles · 2 years

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You’ll just have to learn the hard way, pt 5 (explicit)

Brad Bakshi/cis f!Reader, “friends” to enemies with benefits. part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 Explicit. TW: spitting, penetration, dehumanising language, unhygienic, humiliation (all pretty mild but better safe than sorry. Lmk if I missed anything I should have tagged for) From a distance, Brad seems like a perfectly nice (and distractingly handsome) man. When you start working at Mythic Quest, he catches you looking on your very first day and happily lets you misunderstand him; by the time you realise what he’s really like, you find yourself already entangled.“Friends” to enemies-with-benefits, conflicted feelings, hate fucking with a slow build and all that good stuff.

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Somehow, you found a kind of truce, at least in the next couple of days. Brad did keep his distance and when you absolutely had to share a space for more than a few seconds, he contented himself with smiling and saying nothing, satisfied with this private joke at your expense.

You kept your resolve pretty well, too. Sometimes you stared daggers and kept it up until he noticed and sometimes you chose to pass him with your face turned away rather than walk a little slower to avoid meeting him at all, but by and large you really did keep your head down and ignored him. And so there was a painful, precious moment when it really did seem as if this would all trickle out into the sand, left behind if not forgotten.

But Brad was not kind and he couldn’t leave well enough alone. No sooner had he realised that your ruffled feathers were beginning to settle and that you really were determined to steer clear of him than he went back on the offence. It begun subtly, with a meaningful glance that he refused to break or lingering near your desk to force you to overhear him talking to other people.

You almost thought you were imagining it, and then it escalated. He brushed past you closer than he had to, he took his breaks in the same break room you had to use and draped himself across the entire couch, leaving no space for you unless you chose to sit between his legs.

Less than a week after your confrontation, Brad caught you making yourself a drink and he actually walked up behind you so close you could feel the warmth from his body, he let his hand trail across the small of your back and leaned over you to grab someone else’s mug. When you sucked in a breath to regain your calm he gave a little laugh. When you couldn’t stop yourself from turning to meet his eyes, he actually had the gall to wink at you and let his own gaze drop down to your lips.

It took you several minutes, painfully holding on to the counter while others moved all around you as if you weren’t even there, before you could force yourself to breathe steadily. You couldn’t tell whether the rush you’d felt from his touch was out of need or worse, out of relief that you hadn’t actually managed to deter him. It was impossible to pretend it was out of anger. As soon as you acknowledged this, the anger came, too late to be of help.

Something had to give, but whether you relented or confronted him again, Brad would know he’d won. The whole rest of the day, you pictured fighting him and struggled to decide who should end on top.

-----

You came back to work again the next day with a fresh resolve to avoid Brad. Traitor to your own cause, you’d decided on a cuter outfit. And as the day wore on and the three o clock slump came and went still without incident, it looked as if your sensible side would win out. Wishful thinking.

“getting pencils, need anything?”

You slipped your phone into your pocket and reoriented yourself. You didn’t go on supply runs often, so this floor was still a little unfamiliar. With a sinking feeling, you saw Brad just ahead of you, walking the same way you were going and... yes, opening the door to the supply room. How predictable.

Your phone pinged with a reply from Poppy.

“postits pls!!! thanks, no rush.”

That meant rush. The doors on either side of you were closed and locked - you could wait out here and wait to be trapped alone with him or you could follow him and be trapped alone with him sooner.

Well. As much as he might want to, Brad didn’t actually own the building and so far he’d never made any big first moves on his own. You couldn’t let him think you were afraid. All very good excuses, so you breathed in deep, forced yourself to continue down the hall and stepped in behind him.

At least it was rather a big room with soft carpeting, perhaps you could put some distance between the two of you or stay quiet enough to evade his notice. You padded quickly to the opposite side of the room and grabbed what you’d come for.

Then the door shut behind you on its own with a louder click than you’d expected and Brad stuck his head out from behind one of the tall, metal shelves. Shit. “Did you follow me in here, you little stinker? What happened to keeping a professional distance?”

You held up a packet of post-its as an explanation and resolutely ignored him.

“What, no banter today?” Brad insinuated himself into your eye line and cocked his head. Without even looking over at him, you could tell he was smiling, just from the tone of his voice. “You’re not still angry with me, are you?”

Oh, you’d love that. You struggled to keep your tone casual. “I have no right to be angry with you, because we don’t have any sort of relationship. We just happen to work in the same building.”

“Oh! You’re not even gonna pretend to be polite anymore?” he asked with a laugh. “You’re not here to make friends, you’re here to win? That sort of thing?”

You knew he was pretending to misunderstand you, just to start another argument about the same thing as last time. He really was insatiable in the worst possible way.

“No, Brad, I’m not here to win. If I was, we’d have something in common.” Fuck. Now you were bantering.

“You’d hate that.” Brad stepped a little closer, forcing you to look at him.

Despite your best efforts, you felt your skin tingle and your breath giving out on you. “...I told you already. Don’t.”

Very slowly, he reached out and let his hand ghost down across your arm and take your hand in his. You couldn’t stop yourself shivering. You certainly couldn’t move away.

“You sure?” When you didn’t answer, he took your other hand, brought them to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gentle look in his eyes seemed so genuine, and if you hadn’t known better you’d be tempted to believe that everything that had passed between you was a misunderstanding somehow, one he was desperate to fix.

You parted your lips but couldn’t find your voice. Brad watched you carefully, raised your hands above your head and pinned them there against the shelf behind you with a deceptively gentle grip on your wrists.

You gasped and his sincere expression split into another grin.

“You are so easy.”

His smugness was so infuriating, you growled out loud and tried to pull out of his grip. Brad laughed and pressed your hands harder against the shelf. “Don’t be an animal - use your words.”

But you couldn’t use your words, because then you’d have to ask him to let you go and if you asked him to let you go, he would probably do it. Brad always played the gentleman when it meant denying you what he knew you wanted and it had nothing to do with respecting your boundaries. You could see that now in retrospect - he only ever stepped away when it meant you’d have to crawl if you wanted to get closer.

Worse, you couldn’t trust he’d keep this up. If you put up too much of a fight he might never bother to toy with you again and right now that was the worst outcome you could imagine. His hands were on you, your pride was not important.

And the asshole knew what you were thinking, he knew exactly how easily he could wind you up and make you act a fool around him. He kept proving it to you and to himself and your attempts to hide it were pathetic.

And now he was looming over you, forcing you to admit this weakness all over again. He had stayed away, mostly. You could have waited outside until he was done in here, you could have gone anywhere else in the building, but you’d followed him.

He looked so fucking pleased with himself. Something snapped inside you and before you could think it through, you spat in his face.

Brad blinked in surprise. In the silence, you could hear how loudly and quickly you breathed. His smile didn’t falter but his eyes lit up. He shifted his hold on you into one strong hand and wiped the spit off his cheek with the other. And then he leaned in and kissed you.

You whined into his mouth. His kiss was soft and teasing and you moved into him for more, let your lips part so he would deepen it. For once, he obliged, pushing himself up against you until you felt the edges of the shelf behind you dig painfully into your neck and spine. His teeth raked gently over your lower lip. You moaned for him and when you felt his hand slide up beneath your skirt, your legs nearly buckled.

Brad broke the kiss so he could watch you. That calm curiosity was still there, but his need won out and he didn’t try to hide it. Seeing how badly he wanted you felt like a rush of relief, like something you couldn’t do without. It was the one thing you could agree on, the one thing that seemed honest about him.

His slender fingers ran across your thighs and you parted your legs as far as your skirt would let you. Then he snaked them in beneath your thong, pulled it aside and finally felt just how wet and eager you were for him. He let out a soft little sigh.

“Oh, Brad...” you moaned and squirmed, trying to get more without having to ask for it. Achingly slow, he slipped two fingers into you, watching and listening for your every reaction and smiling when you almost sobbed out your want. “Please...”

“That better?” he whispered and all you could do was nod. He twisted his fingers inside you, drank in your wordless pleas and finally started fucking you, just slow enough for it to hurt almost more than it helped. “So much for your principles, I guess.”

Goddamnit. You struggled in his grasp and growled, “God, I hate you!”

You saw how he shivered and his eyes closed. Something like bliss spread across his gorgeous features.

“Yeah,” he groaned.

“You piece of shit...”

“That’s it,” Brad cooed. He leaned in for another kiss, hungrier this time and fucked you harder, curling his fingers inside you and pressing the heel of his hand against your clit. “God... you’re practically dripping.”

“Brad...”

He shifted his stance to get even closer to you, awkward as it was, and when you ground yourself against him you felt his cock, hard, hot and heavy against your skin even through all those layers of fabric. You whimpered again. Just knowing he wanted you, that at least one thing between you was real... Knowing that he hurt, even if nowhere near as badly as you did, was something.

“Please...!” you whined.

“What, you want me to fuck you here? In the supply closet? Classy.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Your first instinct was to say yes.

Brad pulled himself together in the interim, slipped his fingers out and stood up straight. It seemed to take him some effort and the daze of lust was still plain on his features, but his self command won out. “No, I think you’ve had enough fun for one day,” he said and before you could stop him he actually wiped his hand clean on the front of your shirt. That, however temporarily, broke the spell.

“Brad, what the hell?!”

“I never tire of hearing that.”

And as if nothing had happened, he let go of your wrists, snatched up the post its that you’d let fall to the shelf and walked out the door. His gait was awkward but if he felt any embarrassment about his condition, he hid it perfectly. The bastard even started to whistle and then the door swung shut, leaving you to try to recover as best you could.

#brad bakshi #brad bakshi imagine #brad bakshi x reader #mythic quest #Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet #mythic quest fanfic #my fics

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