#being a brat because I broke my leg

[girlgenius1111]

echoes of her

fluff x angst. implied sexual content? 18+ anyway. warnings: mention of unhealthy past relationship.

alexia and r are out, r sees alexia with another girl, who happens to be r's ex. r acts up, until alexia drags her home, prepared to punish her for being a brat. before she does, r breaks down, tells alexia what was really going on.

You did a double take when you noticed just who your girlfriend was speaking to at the bar. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her; your ex girlfriend. How, why, was she here?

She was, truly, an awful person. Incomparably so. Your time with her had been awful for you, completely destroying your mental health. Despite this, Alexia hardly knew anything about the other woman. She knew there was someone before her, when you were still living in London, and that it hadn't ended well. You'd kept that ugly part of you locked away from your girlfriend. Partly because you didn't feel like bothering her with something that was so very done, but also because you didn't want her to see how shattered that girl had left you.

Alexia had walked away to get another drink for you a few minutes ago. It was taking longer than you expected, so you turned away from the conversation you were having with Mapi, and looked around for the blonde head of hair you were so familiar with. There she was, stood at the bar, making conversation with another blonde you were rather familiar with. What this woman was doing in Spain was beyond you; for a moment, you wondered if you were being crazy; that couldn't be her.

Then she turned, catching your eye and sending you a smirk, and you knew this was no accident. Her, in this club, talking to your girlfriend. You felt like you were being torn in half; you felt like sprinting towards the nearest exit, away from the girl standing at the bar. At the same time, you wanted to run towards her, to pull Alexia away, to protect her. You were paralyzed, a million different thoughts running through your head as you caught Alexia's eye. Her smile fell, eyes squinting slightly as she caught the very panicked look on your face.

"Chica!" Mapi called, waving a hand in front of your face. This broke you out of your stare, and you jumped a little, turning towards your friend. Her and Patri were looking at you, concerned, having witnessed you go from relaxed to completely tense in just 10 seconds.

"Yeah?" You asked, clearing your throat, glancing back at where your girlfriend had been standing. She was on her way back to you, and you dug your nails into your leg. Alexia would come here, and everything would be fine.

"Are you okay?" Patri asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You repressed a shudder at the contact. Everything was setting you off, everything suddenly too loud, too bright, too close.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy for second. I'm fine." You promised, putting on a smile that you hoped was convincing. Before either girl could question you further, an arm was wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into your girlfriend's body. You curled into her and she tightened her arms around you, rubbing her thumb up and down your stomach lightly.

"Bién?" Alexia softly whispered in your ear. "Are you feeling ill?" You weren't sure how Alexia could tell you felt nauseous, seeing as though the lights in the club were multicolored and dim. You turned to look at up at her, and caught your ex girlfriend, only a few feet away, clearly intending to come speak to you.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Alexia's neck, pulling her down into a kiss that could only be described as one too filthy to be had in public. Alexia allowed it for a minute, pulling back when Mapi and Patri started making loud retching noises from next to her. She gave you a look, one that told you to behave, before turning to your friends and rolling her eyes at them.

"No seas dramática. As if I have not seen you both make out with girls in clubs until my eyes were burning."

Before they could respond, you raised a hand to Alexia's cheek, turning her head to look back at you. Your ex had stopped moving closer, but she was still watching, a frown set on her face. You needed her to stay away, stay far away. Alexia had been looking forward to this night out, though, and the only way she'd agree to leave early was if you gave her a convincing reason to. Of course, you could have just told her what was going on, but that didn't really feel like an option to you.

"Dance with me?" You asked Ale, a plan beginning to form in your head. Get Alexia turned on, get her to take you home. Get your ex to leave you alone, all at once.

Alexia got the familiar dreamy expression on her face that she got when you asked her for anything, and she nodded.

"Sí, if you want."

You took her hand, puling her towards the dance floor. Behind you, out of your line of sight, Mapi and Patri exchanged amused looks; never before had they seen their stubborn captain so easily agree to dance. She would do anything for you, though, as was evident.

Your and Alexia's dancing remained innocent for less than a minute, before you were turning your back to her, pressing your ass back into her, and grabbing her hands in yours. You trailed them all over your body, grinding backwards to the bass of the song. You didn't need to hear Alexia's hitch of breath to know how she was feeling about this.

You were pushing her, you knew. Alexia was possessive; she didn't like anyone to see you the way she did. This little performance you were putting on was drawing some attention; it was a gay bar, after all, and your tight outfit hugged you perfectly, your body swaying gracefully against Alexia's. She clenched her jaw tight, sure you were going for a reaction, and not quite wanting to give you one.

Her resolve broke, though, when she caught the blonde she was talking to earlier at the bar staring at you. It seemed to Alexia that you were looking right back at her.

"Vamos, mi zorrita." Alexia whispered lowly right into your ear, wrenching her hands out of yours, instead placing a possessive hand on your back, and leading you towards the exit. As she passed the woman who had been looking at you, she made eye contact, glaring hard. You were hers. She thought she felt you tense up as you passed by her, reaching back to lace your fingers with hers, but she didn't linger too long on it, already planning what she was going to do with you when you arrived home.

You passed by where your friends were gathered, ignoring their knowing smirks as Alexia practically dragged you out of the club. So close, you were so close to being safe, to Alexia being safe, far away from her.

-----

Alexia gave you the silent treatment in the car, knowing how crazy it drove you. You needed contact with her, though, anxiety still swirling inside of you. You couldn't ask for her hand right now, without explaining why yours was inexplicably shaking. Not now, when Alexia was preparing, deservedly, to punish you.

Instead, you let your hand rest on her thigh, letting your fingers rub small patterns in to the fabric of her tight leather pants. She scoffed at you, as if daring you to continue teasing her, but she still didn't say anything. It was fine, you were almost home. Alexia would make you feel good, replace every thought in your mind of her, with the feeling of your girlfriend all over you. It was fine.

-----

The minute you were through the door, Alexia had you pressed up against the wall of the entry way, barely taking time to shut the door behind her. You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands with hers, pressing them back into the wall.

"No no, you wanted to be una zorrita, I will treat you like one."

"Alexia-"

"Cállate." She growled, moving her lips to your neck, working marks into the skin. Her teeth nipped at your skin, and you shuddered at the feeling. You were turned on, obviously. How could you not be? Alexia was biting at kissing at you like she wanted to eat you alive, pressing up against the wall, clearly preparing to fuck the brattiness out of you.

You weren't in the right headspace for this, though. Your brain was already flashing to times with her times that had been fueled with rage, and a passionate hatred. Times that were definitely not healthy. Alexia needed to stop. Now. Your breathing was quickening, your hands were starting to shake, and you needed her off, off now.

"Stop. Red, Alexia, stop" you managed, taking your hands and physically pushing Alexia away. She was off of you in a heartbeat at your words, her hands raised in the air, swollen lips falling into a concerned frown.

"Okay, okay. Stop. We stop." She assured you, taking in the way your whole body seemed to vibrate with anxiety. She had mistaken your body's reaction as being one of arousal, when it had been one of panic. "Mi amor? Talk to me." She pleaded softly.

You reached a shaky hand out towards your girlfriend, and she took it instantly, latching on and squeezing tight. You were unsteady, mind in overdrive. All you knew was that Alexia was safe, and you needed safe. You tried to take a step towards the blonde, but you were shaking too hard, and your legs practically gave out from under you. Alexia caught you easily, carefully lowering you to the ground. She made a movement as if to give you space again, not wanting to overwhelm you with her touch.

That was the opposite of what you needed, though, the feeling of her hand in yours being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded.

"Ale," you gasped out, clinging onto her shirt.

"Está bien, está bien, te tengo." Alexia promised, allowing you to scramble closer into her arms. "Shh, shh, you are okay, amor, todo está bien."

You were a pile of limbs on the ground, just in the entry way of the house, a shaking mess collapsed against your girlfriend. You pressed your face closer into her neck, her loose blonde hair tickling your skin lightly. You couldn't get close enough to Alexia, would have preferred to climb into her skin if you could.

"Tighter," you mumbled.

"¿Qué?" She whispered back, her lips pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"Tighter, please,"

Alexia tightened her arms around you, until it was almost painful, but it was exactly what you needed. Being surrounded by her was working, the scent of her perfume and her laundry detergent invaded your senses, one of her calloused hands sliding up under your shirt and moving slowly up and down your back.

"Mi bebé, estás a salvo, lo prometo."

Alexia wasn't sure what this was. One second, you were kissing her back, teasing her in the car on the way home, the next you were looking around like you weren't sure what was going on, or who was touching you. She thought she knew what you needed, but evidently, she was wrong.

You had calmed down significantly after a few minutes, settling into the feeling of Alexia's nails gently running through your hair.

"You back with me, amor?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." You inhaled deeply, leaning away and looking, guiltily, at your girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Alexia, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

Alexia immediately shook her head. "No, I am sorry, amor. I should have checked in sooner."

"Alexia you were just kissing me, there wasn't time to check in sooner." You dismissed, rising unsteadily to your feet, and holding out a hand to help the blonde up as well. She still looked like she disagreed with you, but she took your hand anyway, allowing you to help her to her feet.

You knew a conversation was imminent, and you began to walk into the living room. Alexia caught your hand, though, pulling you back into a tight hug. You melted into it, pressing your face into her shoulder and inhaling deeply. After minute, Alexia released you, tilting your chin up to look at her.

"Better?" She questioned.

"Yeah, much better."

Alexia nodded, laying a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling you towards the living room once again. You sat slightly away from your girlfriend, mentally preparing yourself to tell her what was going on. The blonde frowned, but didn't move any closer.

"Amor. Did I do something to make you so upset?" Alexia asked, rushing through the question like she was terrified of your answer.

"No, no. It wasn't you. I got... overwhelmed. Tonight was a lot."

"Why was it a lot? What got you so riled up at the club? You were acting normal one second, and then you were all over me the next."

"I saw you at the bar... talking to that blonde girl? With the red top?" You trailed off, looking down at your hands. Alexia misunderstood.

"Bonita, I did not mean to make you jealous, I was just being nice."

"I wasn't jealous, Ale. I... I knew her. That girl. I knew her."

The midfielder took this in, nodding slowly. She was watching the expression on your face, carefully guarded, with just a hint of hurt peaking through.

"What did you know her from?" She wondered cautiously.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I used to date her. Back in London. Before I moved here."

"Oh... Oh. She is that ex. The one it did not work out so well with."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Not so well."

"And seeing her made you very upset?" Alexia continued. You nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

"That relationship wasn't good. At first, she was fine. We worked well together. She got... controlling and manipulative pretty fast. It was awful. We were together 6 months, and in that time she completely destroyed me. I was unrecognizable." You paused, peaking at the blonde. She was looking at you, sympathy written clear across her face, giving you a small nod to tell you to keep going.

"I don't think I really realized how bad it was until I met you, and you were so different than she was. Always so sweet to me. And seeing her with you, I don't know. It set off my fight or flight. I needed to protect you from her, and myself from her, and at the same time I wanted to prove to her that I was doing well, that I was happy. I wasn't happy, for so long after we broke up, and every time our paths crossed, she always seemed so pleased with herself. I needed to feel like I was yours, and the only thing I could think to do was the get you to take control, and get me out of there." You finished, eyes locked on the fingernail you were fiddling with.

Alexia was quiet for a while. So long, in fact, that you were starting to get nervous.

Finally, she spoke. "Well, first, mi amor, I am so sorry that you were in such a destructive relationship. You deserve so much better than that. You are... you are perfect mi niña, and I am so sorry that she did not see that, and that she was so awful to you. I would like to talk more about this, later."

"But you should have told me, amor. What was going on, who I had been speaking too. I would have gotten you out of there if I knew you needed to leave. You have to talk to me. When you do not feel safe, whatever it is, you tell me, and I will take care of it. Always."

"And, amor, there are other ways for me to make you know that you are mine, than trying to get me to have sex with you. We do not mess around like that when you are not feeling right." Alexia said firmly.

You found that, suddenly, you could not meet her eyes. Hesitantly, the blonde slid closer to you, leaving her hand open on the couch next to you, an invitation. You took it appreciatively, feeling inexplicably safer when her large hand completely encapsulated yours.

"I am not mad, bebita. I promise. Can you tell me what was going on in your head when you pushed me away?" Alexia felt you tense next to her, and opened her mouth to withdraw the question. Before she could, you spoke.

"We always used to have sex after a fight, once we'd made up. It wasn't healthy, and we shouldn't have been doing it but we did. I was remembering that, one of the last times. I didn't realized how unsafe I felt around her until I was with you, and I felt so safe. My body couldn't decide whether it was safe or not, it was really confusing."

Alexia sighed deeply, and you prepared yourself for her to get angry. You were surprised she hadn't yet, but it was only a matter of time. Wasn't it?

"If something like this ever happens again, you have to communicate with me, yes? You should always feel safe with me. Can I... can I ask why you did not tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear about it." You confessed, meeting Alexia's confused gaze.

"Why?" The midfielder responded, sounding completely bewildered.

"Why would you want to hear about my ex girlfriend, Alexia?" You scoffed.

"Because it was upsetting you. And she hurt you. I want to hear about those things. You are mine amor. Not hers, I know that. I want to know when something is upsetting you; it will never make me upset with you. Never."

You looked so unsure, Alexia rested a hand on your cheek, stroking gently back and forth with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, amor, anything. You do not need to worry about my reaction. All I care about is you being okay, not being jealous of your awful ex girlfriend."

You nodded hesitantly, placing your hand over Alexia's, keeping her hand on your face as you leaned into the contact.

"Mi amor," she murmured. "I am sorry tonight was so hard for you. How are you feeling now?"

"Better." You lied.

"Better, but..." Alexia said, looking at you expectantly. You wished you could be annoyed with how well she knew you, but you couldn't. It just made you feel that much more loved.

"But... seeing her again, it was like I was back there, in her little apartment. She made me feel so worthless, and I felt that way again. Like I was nothing, worth nothing." You admitted, turning away briefly to rub at your face, very tired of crying this evening. Alexia didn't let you get far, though, wrapping a muscular arm around your shoulder and pulling your right back into her.

"No. No. You are worth everything. Everything I have to give you and more, bebé, all of it."

"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you?" You wondered aloud, almost accidentally. You didn't realize what you'd said until Alexia frowned, looking into your eyes intently. You got lost in the warm hazel there, as you always did, almost forgetting your question until she spoke.

"You are good. You deserve good. I will only ever give you good, amor. Only ever the best for my girl." Alexia declared, leaving a light kiss on your nose, and then one on your lips. Her gaze when she pulled back was so intense, you felt yourself blushing heavily.

"I love you." You said shakily, managing a watery smile.

"I love you more." Alexia promised, leaning in for another gentle kiss.

Another thing about Alexia; when she told you something, you believed it. She had a way with speaking with such conviction, that when she told you she loved you, you were instantly convinced that she did. And if Alexia loved you? If someone as good, as perfect as Alexia loved you? You must have been deserving.

-----

did this win the poll? no. had i already started it when i posted the poll? yes. in conclusion, the results of polls are meaningless unless you pick what i want you to pick :(

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Ok I know you said time won't make them nicer to each other.

But I need her reaction to Carlos being diagnosed with appendicitis. Maybe she's the one that takes him to the hospital?!

The Uphill Battle {2} || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, name calling, angst

WC: 2.9k

Part One

Carlos was grumpier than usual. And that was saying something since he had been in a mood since the news broke about Lewis taking his seat. You could understand that after losing seats to guys all the time before getting a spot in the Academy. Carlos, however, was not used to that feeling and it showed as he pushed himself harder at each training.

“You’re too weak,” he taunted as you wiped the sweat from your brow and started another set of reps with trembling arms. “It’s like you don’t even want to be in F1.”

You let the weight bar fall into the shelf and sat up. “Go project yourself onto someone else, you miserable shit.”

After taking second place at the feature race in Bahrain you had shown you had the drive for F1, but it didn’t seem to change his training approach. He was still firmly on the path of insult until you explode and prove him wrong. To be fair, it had worked so far.

A muscled arm, followed by a bare chest, blocked your way when you stood up, a sneer pulling at his lips. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. Now get out of my way, you have free practice to get ready for.”

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him but when he found you in the gym he decided to finish his warm up routine alongside you. It had been a mistake because he couldn’t help but pester and critique you until he completely forgot what he was meant to be doing.

“Fine, but you need to stay and finish your set. That was just embarrassing to watch.”

“I’m done. With you. And with your training. Go fuck yourself, Junior.” You shoved past him, your elbow connecting with his gut, before you made your way to the stack of towels. You felt his presence follow you to the changing rooms and he closed the door to the shower cubicle.

“You’re done when I say you are done,” Carlos growled, turning you to face him before he pressed your back to the cold tile wall.

You tipped your head back and laughed darkly. “Only for the next nine months, then I’m Lewis’ problem. Or, maybe I’ll get the golden boy as my PT. Charles seems sweet and kind, I wouldn’t mind testing his patience.”

“Listen here, you little-” Whatever threat you would have ignored was lost as you flipped the handle of the cold tap and washed it gush out of the showerhead and straight into Carlos’ face.

“You were saying?”

“Brat.” The timber in his voice had the desired effect as his hand enveloped your throat and pulled you under the cold spray. His lips crashed against yours and his thigh nudged your legs apart, your hips riding the thick muscle as you kissed him back just as passionately. “I really hate you.”

You grinned, but it was more a baring of teeth ready to sink into his skin. “I don’t even hate you, that’s how little I feel about you.”

His palm glided over your ribs, touching the flesh bared by the sports bra you trained in, and slipped between the waistband of your shorts. His fingers spread your folds and curled into your core as your head fell back against the tiles.

“You feel something,” Carlos chuckled, dipping his head down to leave his mark on the swell of your breast. “Or you wouldn’t feel so fucking wet.”

“God I hate it when you open your mouth, just fuck me already.”

Carlos pulled the elastic waistband and let it snap back against your skin. The twanging pain was instant but then it was gone as he dragged the material down your legs. Another ache flared as he sunk his teeth into the soft supple skin on your thigh and you cried out at the heat that radiated from the indents he left behind.

“Fucking savage,” you growled, but you both knew how much you liked it that way.

“Sticks and stones, malcriada.”

You were needy, impatient, and well aware someone would come looking for Carlos as the countdown to free practice began. The lure of a verbal repartee would have to wait if you wanted some pleasure to balance out the pain in the arse that was Carlos. You pushed Carlos onto the bench where your dry towel had been abandoned and he lifted his hips for you to drag his shorts off.

“You gonna ride this di-“ You slapped your hand over his mouth to silence him and straddled his hips, sinking down on his cock with a moan that echoed around the changing room.

“Be a good boy and keep the commentary to yourself if you want a happy ending,” you warned as you let your hand fall to his shoulder and started to roll your hips. He heeded your words and bit his bottom lip to keep from saying something that would leave him with blue balls.

His hands gripped your waist and guided you up and down, setting rhythm that had you bouncing on his dick and an orgasm quickly building. The heat flashing across your body was the perfect contrast to the droplets of cold water collecting on your back and shivering down your spine.

“Fuck, harder,” you begged as your head fell back and he grazed his teeth over your throat. Your gasp filled the small cubicle as he nipped sharply at your skin and you raked your nails down his chest, earning a deep groan from his parted lips. The pained sound made your cunt clench and flutter before he suddenly stood up and turned you to face the wall. The emptiness within your body was quickly filled with the snap of his hips and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry at the sudden fullness.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered quietly in your ear. “This is what you asked for.”

Carlos’ hands fell to your hips, bruising your skin with their harsh grip as he pounded into you. The slap of your bodies colliding filled the small space and your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs began to tremble. Your breathing deepened and you forgot where you were as your mind emptied and your body exploded.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Carlos moaned, your walls tightening around him with your orgasm. A wordless grunt warmed your ear before he sealed his lips over your racing pulse and left his mark while he filled your cunt.

Your forehead pressed to the cool tile as you regained your breath and Carlos pulled out, chuckling as he watched his cum leak down your still trembling thighs. “God, you’re a whore.”

“That’s more of an insult to you, desperado,” you teased. “Should I send the invoice to you or Sainz Senior?”

You forced yourself upright and stepped under the cold spray to see his smirk fade as you washed his seed away. You both jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door and a voice called out, “Carlos, are you in there? You’re going to be late.”

“Just a sec,” Carlos shouted back before attempting to step under the now warm spray. You cast your hands out, splaying your fingers across his torso, catching the pained wince that crossed his face.

“Tsk, tsk, Daddy’s calling,” you said with a shake of your head.

He looked down at himself, the evidence of what transpired glistening on his cock. “Seriously?”

It was your turn to smirk and push him back further before waving him off. “Good luck.”

Free practice was already underway by the time you finished showering and changing into fresh Ferrari merch. No one really paid you any mind as you found a good spot on the balcony above the pit lane and watched the final 30 minutes of track time.

Despite there being better performers, your eyes kept being drawn back to your PT and the lowly 7th place he finished. You had catalogued a list of insults for him and went down to the debrief room ready to rule him up when you found him leaning against the corridor wall. Lines from his balaclava creased his cheeks and his eyes screwed shut as he clutched a hand to his stomach.

“Don’t think playing sick will let you off the hook for that performance,” you said as you crossed your arms.

There was no humour in his face, no wry amusement that usually came with your insults. Instead, he silently pushed off from the wall and made his way on towards the briefing room.

You kind of felt bad as you left the track and returned to the hotel. There had been a misstep in the turbulent dance that had been going on for months and you were left unsettled by it. Nothing on the tv could distract you enough that you finally gave up and took the elevator to Carlos’ floor. It was late but you figured he would still be awake as you knocked on his door.

“You look like shit,” you greeted, but your voice was thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the sickly sheen covered his bare chest too. Reaching out, you felt his skin burning like a furnace and he swayed on his feet before leaning on the doorway.

“You don’t care, so just go,” he rasped, his voice pained and weak.

You rolled your eyes and stepped around him to see a sick bowl on the coffee table with some painkillers beside it and a rumpled blanket spread over the couch. He made to follow but he could barely hold himself up and it was only your arms that kept him collapsing. “Fuck sake, Carlos, you need a hospital.”

“Just need sleep,” he argued. His body shivered and his throat worked to swallow but you had been through enough hangovers to know what was coming. You leapt for the sick bowl and barely got it under his face before he hurled up the bright blue electrolyte drink that you spotted on the table.

“Where’s your phone and your keys?” He peeked up from the bowl pitifully and he saw the determined look on your face before pointing to the kitchen. “Can you stand on your own? Don’t look so offended, it’s a reasonable question in your state.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m Max Verstappen.” You let go of him for a second to see if he would crumple to the carpet but he seemed to hold himself on pure stubbornness so you dashed to the kitchen to dump the bowl in the sink and grab his belongings.

“Planning on robbing me too?” he asked as he noticed you grabbed his wallet too.

“Since I’m apparently a whore, you owe me a hefty debt,” you muttered sarcastically. “It’s for your ID, asshole.”

Carlos didn’t deign to respond as he curled one arm around your shoulders, leaning heavily into your embrace, and the other clutched his abdomen.

“You’ve been in pain since practice, haven’t you?”

“Maybe…can we just go?”

You pocketed his things and took as much weight as you could off him, using every ounce of your strength training as you guided him to the elevator. It was strange to see him so reserved in the elevator mirror as it headed down to the underground car park and it was even stranger to sit in the driver seat of his car.

“Please don’t crash it,” he murmured as you started it up and headed out into the street.

“I know you don’t believe it, but I am actually a decent driver,” you muttered. The city traffic was busy 24/7 but the satnav came in handy with the directions to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. “Should I call your dad?”

“No. It’s probably nothing but a stomach bug.”

That ‘probably nothing’ turned out to be acute appendicitis. You could have laughed at how spectacularly wrong Carlos was but you were too worried as he was wheeled away to surgery and you were left to make a phone call.

‘Do not call him Daddy Sainz,’ you reminded yourself as you entered the passcode on Carlos’ phone and hoped he wasn’t too delusional to get it right. Thankfully it unlocked and you went to his contacts. “Hello, Mr Sainz?”

“Who is this?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s Y/N, I drive for Ferrari in the Academy, uh, Carlos is my Mentor.”

“Where is my son? Why do you have his phone?”

“He’s at the hospital. They’re just taking him into surgery now to remove his appendix.”

The elder Sainz must had put you on speakerphone as you heard the noises at his end increase. “Which hospital? Why are you only calling me now?”

“King Fahad Armed Forces and you’re welcome, by the way, if it wasn’t for me your son would still be curled up on the couch in his room until it burst.”

“He said you had an attitude,” the old man muttered quietly before he resigned himself to a sigh. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

You sent him the ward number that Carlos would be brought through when he was out of surgery and tried to make yourself comfortable on a vinyl chair. It must have been cozy enough as you dozed off, only waking when a nurse tapped your shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Mr Sainz is on his way up now, the operation went well.”

You rubbed your eyes and thanked her as you sat up to see almost two hours had passed. It was then you noticed a pair of brown eyes were watching curiously from across the room.

“Have you been watching me sleep?” you asked as you stretched and cracked your back.

The old man snorted a laugh and put down the almost empty styrofoam cup of black coffee. “You don’t need to wait, I can look after him from here.”

“And ruin my perfect posture for nothing? I’m fine waiting a bit longer.” You stood up and made your way to the percolator jug of black sludge and poured yourself a cup too before pacing the room. “Have you been talking with the other teams yet?”

His eyes followed you back and forth like he was trying to pick your brain apart. “About what?”

“2025. He’s too good for his F1 career to end now.”

The old man stood up too and refilled his cup. “Would you like milk and sugar?” he asked when he noticed your face scrunch at the first sip.

“Just a tiny dash of milk please, no sugar. I like my coffee like I like my men: a little dark and bitter.”

He chuckled and poured a small amount of milk into your cup before returning to his seat. “I can see why my son likes you.”

You spluttered on your mouthful and hurried to swallow the hot liquid. “You must be thinking about someone else. Carlos and I just about have a mutual understanding, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he borderline hates me.”

“Can’t be too many female Ferrari drivers that he mentors from the Academy, because I sincerely remember his comment about her,” the old man teased, crossing one leg over the other and staring over the rim of his cup. His eyebrow arched, daring you to correct him until he took the silence with an air of smugness.

Sounds grew along the quiet ward and soon Carlos was wheeled in on a hospital bed, parking into the empty space that had been between the two chairs. Though he looked a little sleepy, Carlos was awake and he smiled dopily from where he lay looking up at you.

“The doctors said your testicle retrieval went well.”

His smile broke with a deep laugh and he turned to look at his amused dad. “I see you met her.”

“I did.” Carlos Senior stood up and kissed his son’s forehead. “I’m glad you had her to take care of you, son. I’ll give you a few moments alone.”

You frowned as his dad left the room, waiting for the door to close quietly behind him. “What the hell were you thinking! Why didn’t you say anything? You could have died!”

Carlos shrugged and shifted carefully to get comfortable on this pillow behind his head. “We don’t exactly have the sort of relationship where we talk about things.”

You huffed and lifted his head, fluffing the pillow before shoving it back into place. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Back to the insults, finally.” The sick bastard smiled happily and settled into the pillow with a contented sigh. “For a moment I thought I died and went to heaven.”

“Not funny.”

“Was so, you just care about me too much to laugh. Admit it, you would’ve missed me.” He opened his hand and inched it closer to the edge of the bed.

“They must have given you the strong stuff, you’re clearly delusional,” you said with a roll of your eyes but placed your hand into his palm and he closed his fingers around them. “Your dad seems to think you like me.”

Carlos yawned and closed his eyes, but a smile played on his lips. “That’s probably the beginning of dementia. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t,” you chuckled. A few moments of silence filled the room before a soft snore broke the quiet. Careful not to wake him, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Junior.”

“Knew it,” he said as he cracked one eye open and grinned.

You let go of his hand and dropped into your chair with an annoyed huff. “Asshole.”

“Brat.”

#ollie answers #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

[angelanderson]

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

THREE STRIKES- ABBY ANDERSON

⚠️: gets 18+ under the cut. established relationship, dom!abby, bratty!reader, some degradation. aka you fuck around n find out with abby. no use of y/n. my first full length fic! woohoo! (2.3k words!) (men & minors dni!!!)

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

abby definitely gets off on how easily she can overpower you. she’s the strongest person around. you know it, she knows it, everyone knows it. but sometimes you liked to act out— acting like you’re in charge, acting like you’re stronger. however, it always ends with you practically in tears because abby definitely doesn’t mind putting you back in your place. she’ll let you act out until she’s in the mood to make you her sweet girl again.

it all started this morning. you spent 10 minutes of abby’s workout time begging her to let you try and lift what she was. that was strike one in her mind. you were told to “stop being a brat. you know i don’t want you to get hurt, so sit down, and be good for me” by your girlfriend. everyone knows abby doesn’t like to have her workout time interrupted. if the hardened look on her face was anything to go by, you should have immediately stopped.

your second strike of the day was not following the orders abby gave you while out on a short patrol together. she knows she was explicit enough in her orders. the issue was you decided to be defiant, and it almost cost you.

abby decided she wanted to check an abandoned house for supplies, so you followed along. that was the start of your second incidence. the wooden stairs inside creaked with each step the two of you took— a nasty sound with each step. abby was in front, you nervously followed behind.

abby sucked in a breath as she neared the top, “fuck! stupid stairs almost broke under me. i want you to go back, okay? please go check the main floor to see if there's any usable supplies around. I'll be back soon."

she left you no choice to argue, walking the last few steps before turning the corner. you carefully retreat down the steps, mumbling about how you could take care of yourself under your breath.

it only took you twenty minutes to get bored enough to defy abby's orders. a book you'd shoved into your pocket to give to abby later was the only salvageable item you could find. reaching the staircase you quickly followed your steps as you started up the staircase again. you were able to avoid any loud sounds this time until you stepped on the ninth step. you screamed loudly as the stair broke under your left leg, rendering you stuck. abby immediately heard the scream, almost dropping her backpack as she ran to find you.

"fuck! what happened? do you think you're seriously injured?" abby asked you in a panic the second she saw you. all her usual level-headedness left her body the second she saw her girl hurt. a million panicked thoughts entered her head while you looked up at her with tears streaming down your face.

you whimpered in pain, "i think 'm mostly okay. just-just help me get out." you saw her once pale demeanor gain back its flush as you confirmed you were okay.

you could almost see the wheels turn in abby's brain as she thought about the best way to get you out. she looked much more confident as she bent down to reach under your armpits. "i'm going to pull you up slowly. it's best we don't add any more weight to the stairs. you tell me the second something starts to hurt, got it?"

you nodded in reply, too nervous to use your words. you let out a big exhale as you felt abby grab you. she moved you up higher and higher slowly. abby quickly pulled you next to her the second you were completely out.

"how does your leg feel now? think you can manage our trip back?" you knew by now this was your out before she got upset you defied her. you couldn't look her in the eyes,

"i'm fine. nothing hurts, 's just scary. let's just go back now." you didn't have to look her in the eyes to know her worry changed into annoyance.

"listen to me this time. we are going to walk down two steps at a time. keep your hands on the railing. i swear to god you better listen this time," she all but spat at you.

both of you wordlessly left the house together. you could tell abby was fuming about your choices as she practically dragged you back to your base. your usual post-pator silly conversations were a thing of the past tonight. neither of you dared to start a conversation— abby too upset, you too ashamed.

the second you got back you tried to push past abby as she start to speak. it was your third and final strike. abby grabbed your arm, "you are going to go back to our home right now. i expect you in nothing but your panties on the bed, got it? if you're not, i will make you regret not being on the bed by the time i'm back from speaking to manny. got it?"

abby didn't like the timid nod you gave in response. "what? too ashamed to speak up now? oh baby, i’m going to make you regret not following what i told you back there." she smacked your ass, signaling you to get hurry back.

the ticking of the clock just made time go by even slower for you. it only took you four minutes to get back home, two to take off and fold your clothes, and not even ten seconds to sit on the bed. guilt filled your mind for the other eight minutes it took for abby to get back. you knew it was stupid to go up those steps. you knew abby only ever looked out for you. so why did you do it? you had no time to dwell on it as your heard abby enter your shared home.

heavy boots echoed against the floor as you waited for her to enter the bedroom. two minutes later you saw her appear in the doorway. "so you can listen? what happened to being able to do that back on patrol, huh? you just had to be stupid, didn't you?" your girlfriend practically hissed as she approached you in a clean outfit.

"abby-" you went to interject. but abby wasn't having any of it.

"no. shut up. it seems like you can’t remember who's in charge here. you wanna act all big, baby? i have no trouble putting you back in your place." and with that, you were forcefully rolled onto your stomach, ass in the air.

"you fucked around. and now you're going to find out what happens when you do." her words barely registered to you before you felt her hands running over your left leg. she caught you before you could speak, "don't even try to speak. had to check on your leg just in case. seems a little bruised, but don't worry baby, it won't be as bruised as your ass by the time I'm done with you." you yelped as she smacked your ass.

fat tears were rolling down your face by the time the fifth smack rained down on you. you were blubbering out apologies as she spanked you again and again. you tried to apologize, to explain yourself, but all that came out were snot-filled babbles. she sighed looking at your current state. "you always wanna be my good girl again when i have to teach you a lesson. my sweet girl knows i just want her to be safe. can’t have my baby getting injured," she whispered that last part.

the guilt you felt started to pour over. a sob escaped your throat before you spoke, "abby, abby, i’m sorry. i just- i got bored! i wanted to show you i could do it myself." something about your confession made the girl soften for a second.

"i know angel, i know. you know i just always want you to be safe. gotta punish you now though baby. you know i'll always help you be my good girl again though, yeah?" you meekly nodded. she quickly gave you a sweet kiss to the lips. and with that, abby switched back into her dominating persona.

squealing as she suddenly flipped you over, you grabbed the bedsheets to stabilize yourself. you felt her hands start to trail down between your legs. you almost tried to quiet your moan but decided against it last minute-- things would only be worse if you did because abby loved hearing you. warm fingers slowly parted your legs. it felt like pure torture. fingers suddenly swirled, teasing your clit. you couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"please. please! I'll do anything! i'll be your good girl now," you begged her.

abby only chuckled and shaked her head at that, "we're just getting started and you're already begging me like a slut? pathetic." your cries only fueled her fingers to move faster.

abby quickly pushed you up the bed, forcing your legs to open more. you had no time to respond before you felt her thumb on your clit again with her pointer finger teasingly circling your hole. you felt so overwhelmed you couldn't do anything but let out a strangled moan.

"yes abby, please! I'll be good! i promise!" but your pleas weren't enough for her. she plunged in a finger before you could talk more. "

didn't say you could talk, did i?" no words of yours followed hers. you couldn't speak when she had started to repeatedly hit that spongey spot inside of you that always made you lose your mind with pleasure.

you weren't sure how much time had passed before you felt something familiar buildup in your stomach. both of you knew you were at the brink of orgasming. your moans started to get louder, babbling incoherently. abby just looked smug as she went faster, responding with 'uh-huh?' and 'you like that?' and 'yeah?' on repeat. you knew better than to cum without her saying so when you were in trouble. you shouted out as the coil inside you started to get tighter, you needed that release, you needed to chase that feeling.

"abby, abby, abby. please- oh! please let me cum", you begged her.

she pretended to think it over before suddenly ceasing all of her movements. you cried out pathetically as she pulled her fingers out of you. "shit baby, i need to see you crying this prettily on my cock. if you keep being good I'll let you cum, deal?" abby couldn't help but moan out at the sight of you all fucked out. she couldn't help but feel that rush of euphoria knowing it was because of her. her pants were off the second you whimpered out in agreement.

abby rubbed soothing circles in your thigh as she pushed you to the edge of the bed again. you watched abby tease your slit with her plastic cock. it was the purple one-- a sold 7 inches, with a thick girth, and fat tip. your mouth that was opened to beg suddenly morphed into a gasp as you felt her easily slip into you.

"fuck!" you exclaimed as abby smirked before picking up the pace. you were sure everyone could hear you by now. abby's moans joined the mix of wet sounds, moans, and tears as the base of the strap rubbed against her clit.

it all suddenly felt like too much. you could feel your slick running down your thighs. abby's moans while she chased her own orgasm added a new layer to your pleasure. abby knew you well enough to know that you were at the edge of cumming again. "beg me. make me believe you deserve this," she demanded in between her own moans.

and, well, you knew how to beg, "i'll never cause trouble again! promise! I'll be your best girl again. please abby!"

on the edge of cumming herself, she grunted before crashing your lips together, "cum for me. want to see you become more ruined all because of me." that was all the permission you needed before you fell apart-- you swore you saw stars as she continued to thrust into you screamed her name before cumming.

and usually abby would stop now, but tonight you were being punished so she continued to fuck you as you cried tears of overstimulation. a loan groan left her lips, "fuck angel, you feel so good." all it took was two more strokes before abby's whole body shook as her orgasm ran through her.

within the blink of an eye, abby pulled out of you, causing you to whine. she sushed you as she placed a kiss on your forehead. "you're my best girl, yeah? i’m going to go get a washcloth to wipe you down. not even a whole two minutes, okay sweet girl? she always reassured you she'd be back soon as you tended to whine about her leaving. all you could do was nod as you watched her slip out of the room.

abby kept her word of being less than two minutes. she came back with a big water bottle, your favorite blanket, and a washcloth. you were handed the water to sip on while she wiped in between your thighs. she worked as gently as she could, whispering quiet apologies as the rag ran over your most sensitive parts. you watched her as you sipped your water. "you did so well. always my bravest girl, huh? i just love you so much." you could see the way she looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

instead of telling her you loved her back like usual, tears started to roll down your eyes. abby looked at you panicked. "are you hurt? what's going on in my angel's head?" you shook off her questions before wiping your tears away.

"i didn't mean to scare you. i’m sorry abs." she sushed you, not allowing you to guiltily apologize any further. "

it's all over now. you did so well for me. why don't we nap now, yeah?" you nodded, signaling abby to get in bed with you. after throwing the rag to the side and turning off the lights she joined you in bed. you curled up next to her while she placed the blanket over the both of you. you fell asleep feeling safe to the whispers of the both of you confessing your love for the other.

not super edited cause i couldn't stare at it anymore after the second read through n also sleep deprived now oops? this is my first time writing smut, can you tell lmao? i wanted to push my writing boundaries so this lil guy was born. more n even better things to come as i start my summer! if you've read this far thank u so much!! a rb would be so cool if u liked it that much! xoxo, angelanderson (extra note: i realized it spaced it weirdly when i posted so hopefully it’s fixed now?! lmk if not!)

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #tlou smut

[ghost-proofbaby]

up in flames (steddie x fem!reader)

→ summary: when steve and eddie don't pay you enough attention one morning, you decide that today's a good day to be a brat.

→ warnings: strong language, threesome, oral smut (both f! and m! receiving), face fucking, smut (good old fashioned p in v), dom!steve, dom!eddie, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spanking, name calling (brat, slut, etc), mean!steddie, hair-pulling, mentions of spitting, edging, lots and lots of teasing, voyeurism (public teasing), cream pies, use of 'sir', polaroids taken of mentioned cream pies, overuse of nicknames (y'all should know me by now) MINORS DNI. 18+.

→ wc: 9.4k+

→ a/n: oh jesus. okay. so, first of all, shout out to @myosotisa for encouraging this catastrophe. second of all, i am not completely positive that that entire paragraph covers everything so if you find i missed something, please tell me! fair warning that this is the filthiest thing i have ever written, the longest smut i've ever indulged in, and that i've never written threesome. it's also not edited. any mistakes are between y'all, steddie, reader, and god. not me. my apologies if this is bad. this was just... incredibly self indulgent lol.

You’d brought it upon yourself, really. 

It started that morning. You’d asked for ten more minutes with them, but they both had work and knew that ‘ten more minutes’ was never just ten minutes. So Steve got up and made breakfast, Eddie went to take a shower. You’d pouted like a child but nonetheless joined them at the table. 

And maybe it wasn’t all your fault, because Steve had made pancakes. That was his first mistake, and Eddie is the one who you attempt to make pay for it. 

Somewhere between morning softness fading and orange juice kisses, you’d gotten a swipe of syrup on your thumb. You play it up innocently at first, kitten-licking the sticky sweetness on your skin.  Both Eddie and Steve had ignored any gentle kicks of your sock clad foot, not a single reaction when you’d press your toes into their calves beneath the table in a silent plea of pay attention to me, please. Neither man pays any mind to you, too engrossed in discussing what movie they might want to watch after work later that night, you take it a step further, letting your lips wrap around your entire thumb. Steve takes another bite of pancake, but he’s none-the-wiser. Fine. It was fine, because Eddie was the one sitting directly across from you, so you focused your efforts on him. 

He always broke easier than Steve anyways. 

Your toes press into his calf again, more harshly this time. 

“I’m not watching fucking Empire Strikes Back again Ste-” he cuts off midsentence at your prodding, fork in the middle of digging into his pancakes. Steve was too busy gathering both yours and his dirty plates to notice. 

Once Eddie’s eyes are on your mouth, you up the ante. The pad of your thumb presses down on your tongue as you slip your lips past the knuckle, hollowing your cheeks as you suck hard on your appendix before you slowly drag it out and make a point of tugging down on your bottom lip. You witness his pupil dilating in real time, entranced as your foot begins to trail higher up his leg. His chest heaves, and you know he’s recalling the moment from a few nights before, when you’d given him the same half-lidded eyes as the tip of him had hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him, teary eyed but eager to please him. 

The clashing of dishes being set into the sink seems to break whatever spell you nearly had him under, just as your foot reaches his thigh. 

He smacks your foot away, blinking quickly before a cruel grin takes over his face, “Cute.” 

“What was that?” Steve calls from the kitchen, completely oblivious to the stare down currently occurring in your dining room. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, daring you to say something as you scowl, sitting up straight once more at his rejection. 

“Nothin’!” he calls out, deliberately slow as he pushes his chair out and stands from the table, plate in hand. His steps are heavy as he rounds the table to where you sit with your arms crossed, eyes set forward, not bothering to spare him a glance. You were acting like a child, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You were hot, you were bothered, and you were about to spend the day doomed to being riled up without reprieve.

As he passes you on his way to Steve and the kitchen, he leans down, voice low as he whispers into your ear, “Behave, sweetheart.” 

You nearly scoff, but won’t give him the satisfaction. 

Behave. As if you would do anything along those lines today. 

—

The next mistake is made when Steve accepts your offer to bring him lunch to Family Video during his shift. 

It was actually fairly empty for a Wednesday. When you enter the video store, there’s only one other customer perusing the aisles, Steve nowhere to be found as Robin greets you from the front counter. You send a small wave in her direction, lifting the bag you’d packed Steve’s lunch away into up as you passed her on your way to the backroom. 

You were still frustrated. Terribly so. The few hours the boys had been out of the apartment, you’d tried to soothe the ache. You even went as far as to bring out one of your neglected vibrators. But the batteries were worn and nearing their end, and you couldn’t find where the boys had stashed away the new ones, so you’d ended up a petulant mess in the center of the king bed. You’d all but kicked out your legs and thrown fists into the down comforter you’d settled into the center of when the toy’s buzzing finally faded to near-nothing just as you’d felt yourself teeter on the edge of release. 

It was at that moment you decided you would not be the only one suffering today. 

Steve isn’t in the backroom, or the bathroom you check. You give up calling out his name after the third time before finally setting the bag onto the employee’s table and venturing back out into the front of the store. Robin was no longer at the counter, at one of the endcaps helping the only other customer, completely occupied. 

That’s when you hear him, a muffled curse and sound of a few movies dropping in one of the back aisles. Your feet carry you towards the sound quickly, light on your feet as you sneak around a corner to find Steve glaring down at a stack of movies that had fallen off the shelves. 

“I don’t think your Jedi mind trick is working,” you quip to make your presence known to him, taking slow and calculated steps towards him, “‘Fraid those wrinkles make become permanent if you keep staring at them like that, my love.” 

Brown eyes flicker up to you, framed by dark lashes as the frown lines smooth out.

“Haha,” Steve deadpans as you stand in front of him, “Very funny.”

You keep up a demure act by pecking him on his lips in greeting, feeling the corners of his lips pull upwards.

“Oh, c’mon, you call that a hello kiss?” he whispers before he reaches out and settles an insistent hand on your waist, tugging you back in as he chases your lips with his own. His kiss is deeper, leaving more to be desired as it still remains fairly chaste. 

Just the simple capture of your bottom lip between his has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh escaping you. 

You still make sure to pull away first, remembering the burn in your abdomen that had begun burning this morning, that had yet to be satiated, “Better?” 

“Much,” he grins, eyes glancing down at your outfit, his hand traveling from your waist to the hem of the short sundress, “This is cute.” 

Cute. The same demeaning word that Eddie had used on you that morning, the same dismissive tone as Steve rubs the thin fabric between his fingertips. 

You had deliberately worn one of Steve’s favorite dresses on you. You had deliberately forgotten a bra. 

You had deliberately gone without underwear. 

“Cute?” you hum, scrunching your eyebrows, “Last time I wore this dress, if I recall correctly, you called me downright sinful-”

You cut off when you see that flash in his eyes, the same dilation of pupils, the same sudden heavy breathing you had witnessed in Eddie that morning. He was clearly recalling the last time you’d worn the dress – the way he’d bent you over the bed before ripping off your lace number underneath that night, coming in you until you were leaking him across the mattress, the way he’d taken polaroids of your abused pussy to share with Eddie when he had returned from his weekend trip. 

Maybe Steve was just as easy to break as Eddie. 

“Don’t,” he softly warns, voice husk and low. The fingers playing with the hem of the dress let go of it immediately, knuckles brushing your bare thigh. 

“What?” you play it off nonchalantly, “I was just reminding you of-” 

“Baby,” he’s practically begging you now. Big, brown eyes pleading before he glances over your shoulder, trying to gauge how far away Robin and the customer were currently from the two of you. 

You bring your hand up to his chest, stepping forward and letting his hand now curl around the back of your thigh. You fiddle with the name tag on his work vest, “D’you think Eddie still has those photos? Maybe I should go home and take some new ones.” 

It’s the final straw. You’ve pushed him farther than you did Eddie this morning, and the hand once delicately gripping your thigh is now on your neck, gripping your jaw firmly as he leans down to breathe into your ear. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” his lips brush over the shell of your ear as your head begins to lull back, only making him tighten his grip as he keeps you pressed closely to him, “What you should do is go home and behave yourself.” 

There it is again. That word, behave. A command, an order, a spillage of gasoline across your fire. 

You light up at his words. 

“Who’s going to stop me? Certainly not you. And certainly not Eddie.” 

He lets go immediately, and takes several steps back. All contact between the two of you is lost. If you weren’t so irritated, so consumed by pent up desire, you might have whined. You might have reached back out or followed his steps back. With the distance, he looks down and can see your nipples straining against the chest of the dress.

His jaw locks, “I’ll call him.” 

You wield the hammer proudly as you pound the final nail into your coffin, “Do it.” 

You spin on your heel, leaving Family Video, with absolutely no intention of behaving. 

—

You stop at the store on your way home. Which, to be fair, is your first mistake. 

It doesn’t truly take that long to find the package of double A batteries, but even once they’re in your cart, you find yourself walking a few laps around the store to attempt to settle your racing heart and increasing ache. But even by the third lap, even as you get several curious glances from store employees and your thighs begin to ache from how quickly you’ve been walking circles, the pent-up energy persists. 

You don’t care. You’re now better equipped, and you know where Steve keeps the polaroid camera and film at home. 

But when you arrive at the apartment, plastic bag dangling loosely from your wrist, you completely miss the fact that Eddie’s van and Steve’s BMW are back in their respective parking spots. It doesn’t cross your mind that your boys might be home as you climb the stairs, as you fumble with your keys, as you shut the front door behind you with your hip. 

They were smart about it. They left all the lights out except one. 

You blindly fumble through the dark apartment, path set on the bedroom above all else. In your mind, you only had a few hours before they’d get home. The pressure of the time constraint was nearly anxiety-inducing until you stopped in the middle of the hallway, and immediately noticed the bedroom light is on. You rack your brain to try and remember if you’d left that light on, or if your hand had simply missed when you’d shot it out to flick the switch off your way out earlier. 

Neither. It was neither scenario, and you realize it as you stand in the doorway and are met with an unexpected sight. 

Steve is standing by the edge of the bed, arms crossed and face flat as he stares at you. He had been clearly awaiting your entrance. And his presence isn’t the one that strikes any regret or fear in your gut – that anticipation, the oh I fucked up moment, only arrives when you look to the bed and find Eddie sitting on the edge. He’s cleaned up already from the auto shop, arms and hands scrubbed of any grease. His work boots are still laced on his feet, coveralls have discarded to his waist and sleeves tied in a knot. 

It’s not just his presence that startles you. It’s your second mistake that stares you straight in the face; Eddie is casually holding your vibrator, turning it over between his palms, not even glancing up at your entrance. 

“You two are home early,” you squeak, and internally scorn yourself for the breaking in your tone. 

Steve’s still upset about your visit to him at work. Plainly written across his face, he doesn’t even try to hide his displeasure that shines through as he glares at you. 

“We are,” Eddie agrees, and a chill runs up your spine – his tone is airy, casual, light. And he looks anything but. “Wanted to surprise you, sweetheart. So you can imagine our disappointment when we came home to this-” he pauses and finally looks up at you, holding up the vibrator in a grandiose gesture, “-left out on the bed. Care to explain?” 

He phrases it like a question. It’s not a question – it’s an opportunity to convince them to go easy on you. 

A mutual mistake is made at that moment, on Eddie’s part and yours. He assumes you want a gentle night of affection and undivided attention – the fire in you wants anything but those things. The fire in you is seeking out bruises, marks that litter you for days, for the two men to reduce you to nothing more than a goddamn toy, just like the one that Eddie held in his hands. 

“I had an issue,” you reply snarkily, sitting the bag down onto the ground now, “I took care of it. Any questions?” 

Eddie’s fiddling with the toy immediately stops. You watch the way his palm cradles the sky blue silicone. You hadn’t even cleaned it after the failed usage; you’d assumed you’d be home before them, get right back into it and not be risking them finding it first. 

“Oh,” Eddie’s lips split into a daunting grin, “I think I have a few, sweetheart.” 

Steve hasn’t moved an inch, and continues to resemble a statue as Eddie stands up. He tosses the vibrator back to the center of the bed before he leans down and unlaces his boots. The seconds drag on as he takes his sweet time. 

“What’s in the bag?” Steve breaks his silence in an even tone, each syllable impossibly stern. 

You look down at the discarded plastic, the edge of the battery packaging peaking out. You shrug, “Batteries.”

“For what?”

“For my rocketship to Mars,” you snap sarcastically. His eyes darken and the downturn of his lips deepen. Eddie finishes unlacing his boots and slips them off, “The vibrator, of course. What else would I need them for?” 

“Did you use it on yourself? The vibrator?” Eddie is maintaining a faux relaxed cadence. If you weren’t paying close attention to his words, or his actions, you’d assume he was simply asking you about your day. 

You swallow hard. The first crack in your facade, “I sure as Hell tried.” 

Eddie stands back up to his full height, kicking his boots out of the way. He doesn’t look at you this time – he looks at Steve, “You hear that, Stevie? She tried.”

You meet Steve’s gaze with your chin held high. Resilience, defiance, contumacy. It all seeps from you in waves. Your way of saying that the teasing wasn’t going to be enough, not this time. 

Steve’s arms drop from his chest, “Tried,” he echoes Eddie, taking a step forward, making the flames lick up to your sternum, “Pathetic. Can’t even break the rules properly.” 

He’s as stubborn as you are in the eye contact. Prideful, commanding, authoritative. His waves meet yours with ease, nearly enough to reach your fire, nearly enough to attempt to put out the flames. 

But he doesn’t. As he and Eddie stand side by side, glowering at you with matching expressions, it only fans the flames. Only makes you burn brighter, ache worsening with each passing second. 

“It’s a shame,” Eddie taunts, “All that trouble you went through, and you won’t even be cumming tonight.” 

You smirk as you reach down and finally grab the batteries from the bedroom floor, “Oh? I won’t? That’s odd, because I actually had some pretty big plans with me, that toy, and these batter-”

You don’t have time to react before Eddie has crossed the room and snatched the package from your hands effortlessly. 

“I’ll take those. Thank you, doll.” 

He turns his back on you and Steve continues to watch you, watching your facade crumbling right before his eyes. Eddie wastes no time in tearing open the batteries before he grabs the vibrator, working open the compartment and shaking out the old ones only to be replaced with new ones. 

“Strip,” Eddie commands with his back still turned to you. The smirk on your face has long since fallen, completely fading as your eyes widen. When he hears no movement from you, he tsked, “Do you need to be told twice, sweetheart?” 

Steve’s anger, his indifference, has vanished along with your smirk. He raises one eyebrow in a challenge, a silent question of if you were willing to disobey them now that they were both here. 

“No, sir,” you secede through gritted teeth. They’re not stupid – they can still feel the heat from your blaze, even as you follow instructions. Even as you behave.

Eddie doesn’t watch you, but Steve does. His eyes never leave you, following your hands as you reach down to the hem of your dress. It’s at this moment that you remember your choices from earlier – no bra, no underwear. You don’t have to catch Steve’s expression once you lift the dress off your body to know he’s swirling with disbelief and frustration immediately.

“Where the fuck is your underwear?” he demands, breaking completely. Eddie has placed the backing on the compartment, and hardly has time to turn and face the two of you before Steve is in front of you, toe-to-toe with you as you bite back a smile.

“I forgot,” you lie entirely too smugly. 

“Forgot?” Steve scoffs, jaw flexing as his eyes trail down your neck, your collarbones, your peaked nipples. They glide a path all the way down your torso until they land on your exposed heat and the way you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together. “Bed, now.” 

“I don’t recall Eddie telling me to-”

“Listen to him, sweetheart,” Eddie chides, effectively interrupting you, “I think you’ll find Stevie isn’t in a very giving mood tonight. Best to not press your luck.”

To both men’s astonishment, you listen. A flip switches at the mention of giving, at the promise of satiation to come. Within seconds, you’re laying on the bed as Eddie sidesteps, still clutching your blue vibrator. 

“Flip over,” Steve demands, hand fiddling with his belt buckle as he approaches you. 

You do as he asks of you, rolling onto your stomach, turning your cheek to continue to watch him fully remove his belt now. Your thighs press together harder now, watching a moment of pensive thought cross his face as he looks down at the belt in his grasp. 

When he tosses it to the side, letting it hit the bedroom floor with a harsh thud, you count your lucky stars. 

“Since you seemed so fond of remembering them earlier today,” Steve muses, his bare hand tracing over the exposed skin of your back, down your spine until his fingertips dance over the swell of your nude ass, “How many polaroids did we take for Eddie that weekend?” 

He doesn’t need to elaborate what he’s referring to. You can’t see Eddie, but you hear him choke on a breath. 

“Five,” you respond as your hands fist the comforter beneath you, heart beginning to pound from anticipation. 

“Hm,” Steve fakes thoughtfulness, and you can see him turn his head in Eddie’s direction, “Five? Does that sound about right to you, Eds?” 

Eddie must have been nodding, not verbally responding until he caught on that Steve wanted him to answer him out loud, “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “Y-Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it was five polaroids. Still got ‘em in my bedside drawer.” 

Steve’s attention is back on yours in an instinct, hand retracting, “Here’s what’s going to happen, doll. Five polaroids, five hits. You’re going to count out loud. Do you understand?” 

You’re as speechless as Eddie had been; you’ve never managed to get Steve this riled up. The roles were usually reversed – usually, it was Eddie being domineering, Eddie being cruel and reveling in your squirming. 

“Answer me.”

You remember his hesitation with the belt – this time, you don’t hold back in blurting out, “I understand.” 

“Good,” his warm touch returns to you, this time on the bend of your knee, trailing its way up to the back of your thigh, “Color?” 

An ache pangs through your core, ringing out through the hollow of every bone in your body, “Green.” 

There’s no more pause or teasing. Once the word is spoken, Steve’s hand is pulled back before coming down on your ass, the smack riveting off the walls of the bedroom. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, feeling the hit straight in your center. For a moment, you can’t think straight, thoughts blurring together and disappearing into thin air. 

“That’s odd,” you barely register the lifting of the pressure of Steve’s hand, “I could have swore I told her to count. Did I not tell her to count?” 

“You did,” Eddie is no longer stuttering as he walks around Steve, entering your field of vision as he crouches beside the bed, leveling his head with yours, “She must not want to cum badly enough.”

There’s a spark in Eddie’s eyes you recognize, that you’re familiar with. This is how it normally is – Eddie, belittling you before completely wrecking you, all while wearing a boyish and an air of casualty. 

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for Stevie?” Eddie taunts you with a whisper, as if Steve couldn’t clearly overhear his words. 

“I do,” you sigh out, eyes glossy, “I do.” 

“Then count,” he instructs while keeping his voice hushed. His grin falls ever so slightly, gaze hardening before he looks up to Steve and says in a normal voice, “Start over. She’ll count this time.” 

Steve’s hand pulls back before landing another hard smack to you, this one stinging even more than the first time. 

This time, as you gasp, you manage to let out a strangled, “One.” 

He alternates sides. After each slap, you continue to count, voice growing higher in pitch each time, whines slipping out as you feel yourself grow wetter. 

You don’t notice the stray tears leaking out of your eyes, falling to the comforter and forming a dark spot, until Eddie reaches out his thumb to swipe them away before the final spank. 

“Look at you,” Eddie coos, “You’re a fucking mess, sweetheart, and we’re just getting started.” 

Steve doesn’t land the final smack yet, instead choosing to smooth his palms over your reddening skin, massaging gently. Eddie’s freehand disappears from the edge of the bed, and even in your mind’s haze, you immediately know he’s palming himself for brief relief by the way he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Color?” Steve calls out once more, leaning down over you, letting his lips brush at the small of your back. An uneven line of kisses are placed all the way down to your sore ass. Your breathing stutters at the softness, a startling contrast to his palm. 

“Still green,” you croak, making Eddie fight back a wide grin as his eyes flutter shut. 

You go to shift your hips, seeking out your own relief, but Steve is quick to press his palm over your lower back, pinning you down to the mattress with minimal pressure, “Nuh uh, doll. I’m not done with you yet. One more.”

“Think you can do one more?” Eddie murmurs, the taunting edge still in his cadence. 

You only nod. In any other scenario, the two boys would demand you use your words, but the movement appeases them tonight. 

The final blow is no less searing than the first, Steve using just as much force against the cheek he’d originally begun with. You almost forget to whimper out the count of ‘five’ until Eddie’s tapping your cheek gently. 

“Five,” you say as loudly as you can muster, opening your eyes that you hadn’t realized had closed. 

Eddie is staring intently at you, all teasing demeanor having temporarily lifted, “And you’re sure your color is green?” 

You can’t help but laugh at his genuine concern, the way his eyes manage to go soft even with his pupils so blown out. Steve is back to pressing kisses up your spine, carefully avoiding your backend now. 

“‘M sure,” you promise him, words slightly muffled by the way your mouth is partially pressed into the mattress, “Look at you two. Going all soft on me.” 

Eddie’s mouth quirks up immediately, reassured you’re fine.

“It’s just been a while,” Steve offers as his lips reach the nape of your neck, hands spreading over the back of your shoulders, “Munson’s gone too easy on you lately, hasn’t he?” 

Eddie throws his head back in laughter at that, “Oh, yeah. I have, haven’t I?” that mocking tone twists your gut, a reminder that they’ve yet to extinguish the fire you’ve been burning with the entire day, “Got so soft on you that Harrington had to get mean.” 

“You’ve both been mean,” you argue back, becoming restless once more. You hardly pay any mind to the throbbing of where Steve had just punished you, “All I wanted this morning was ten more minutes, and you both ignored me.” 

Steve’s off of you fairly quickly as Eddie’s expression slowly morphs into something more carnal. 

“All this attitude… because you didn’t get your way?” he slowly enunciates each word, rising slowly from his crouch as his eyes never leave you. He lets out a soft tut, “Flip her over for me, Stevie. I think I need to remind her of just how mean we can actually be.” 

Before Eddie fully steps away from the bed, he grabs a pillow to pass to Steve. No words are exchanged between them as Steve manages to rearrange you onto your back, the soft pillow serving to protect your reddened backend while simultaneously lifting your hips. 

You aren’t watching Steve, though. You’re captivated by Eddie as he smoothly removes his shirt, lean torso bared to you with a smattering of ink and taut muscles. Eddie isn’t quite the same lanky boy he once was – he’s grown into himself, into his body, and he’s far stronger than he looks. 

“Enjoying the show, brat?” he hums in question as his hand drops to the handcuff buckle of his belt, fiddling without so much as looking down at it, training his darkened irises on the rapid rise and fall of your chest.  “You know, I should put this belt to use on you for the way you’ve treated us today. I should tie your hands above your head, turn that vibrators of yours onto its highest setting, leave you writhing as it abuses that pretty little cunt while me and Steve go get some dinner. If I were really being mean, I would do those things, sweetheart. But I’m not feeling mean,” with each word, he steps closer to the bed, discarding his work overalls and socks along the way, before he’s crawling up the edge of the bed and slotting himself between your thighs. His touch is colder than Steve as he wraps a palm around one of your calves, sliding up and down as his rings press into your skin, “I’m actually feeling quite generous tonight, baby.” 

“Please,” you beg, knees falling apart, trying to make more room to accommodate him. You nearly reach down, nearly grab him by his shoulders and pull him into where you want him most – where you need him most. “I’ll be good, I swear. I can be good, sir-”

“My, my,” he cuts you off, leaning his mouth against the soft side of your knee, lips parting as he knicks your skin between his teeth and makes you jump, excitement and thrill pumping through your veins with intense longing, “You’re being so polite, I knew you had it in you. Where exactly were these manners earlier, though, with Stevie… in public?” 

At the mention of Steve, your head rolls to the side, finding him standing to the sidelines already completely undressed. His cock stands proudly against his lower abdomen, the tip an angry shade of pink, shining with precum as he slowly reaches down to grip himself around his base. 

You let out a whine as his grip on himself remains still, him only saying, “You better answer him. Before his generosity runs out.” 

Eddie bites your inner knee again before letting his lips drag up your inner thigh, breath hot on your skin, “Don’t be shy on us now. You certainly weren’t shy when you were talking such a big game in the middle of Family Video, of all places. What did you expect to happen, hm? Did you expect Steve to just take you to the backroom, to give you all you demanded without being deserving of it?” 

“No, sir,” you breathe out. He hooks both of your legs over his shoulders, looking up with a devilish grin, eyes locked on target of your cunt. 

“Tell Steve you’re sorry, sweetheart,” he insists, mouth growing closer to your center at an antagonizing pace. 

Steve’s fist is now pumping his length, and you purse your lips into a pout as you make eye contact with him, “I’m sorry, Stevie.” 

You receive a smack onto your exposed pussy from Eddie, his ring catching on your clit and causing you to let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you correct yourself, devolving into a moan when Eddie finally puts his mouth on you. It’s momentary, but enough to have your hands shooting down to grip the comforter at your side, balling it up tightly as your knuckles pale. 

“Say,” Eddie pulls back, shimmering eyes meeting yours, “Be a doll and hold my hair back for me, yeah? I usually prefer to keep my hair out of my meals.” 

You do as he asks, hands letting go of soft down material and tangling into messy curls, one hand digging into his roots while the other gathers the rest of his mane into a makeshift ponytail in your fist. His fingertips dig into your thighs greedily as he begins to devour, tongue working in quick swipes from your entrance to clit. You throw your head back, skull crushing into the mattress as your lips immediately begin to buck up into him. Your flames grow the highest yet, curling around your neck and up the back of your throat, releasing like smoke signals in gasps and sighs, heavy pants of Eddie’s name that only fuels him to grow more eager against you. You can feel the mattress shake from him rutting his hips in chase of his own release.

“Fuck,” you cry out over the sound of Eddie lapping and the quickening pace of Steve touching himself, “Jesus Christ. God, fuck, I-”

“Not God, not Jesus,” his voice rasps against your clit, pausing to purse his lips and suck sharply, “Just Eddie or sir will do just fine, baby.” 

Steve sees the first sign of your orgasm creeping up on you – Eddie is lost in you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue dives into your entrance, taking all you can give him. 

“Don’t let her cum.” 

Another curse falls from your lips, and your back arches further off the mattress, igniting pain on your backside from the burn left by Steve’s hand. 

Eddie’s mouth stays pressed against you as his words send shockwaves up your spine, feeling his own pants as he replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You tug sharply with the hand tangled in his roots, Eddie groaning into you as Steve says, “She’s about to cum. Get your mouth off her, Munson.” 

His words only spur you to clamp your thighs tightly against Eddie’s ears, as if you could block out the command. You were close. The closest you’d been all day, wound tightly and desperately for a release you’d been seeking since this morning. 

Eddie was easy to break. You’d been right. For all the mean he was capable of, once he got his mouth on you, you were always sure to finish. He was a starving man, as needy as you as he would beckon you closer and closer to your edge. He got off just as clearly by your pleasure as you did. 

He doesn’t listen to Steve. His tongue only plunges into you once more, and the coil in the center of your burning abdomen nearly snaps before Steve’s hand replaces the one that had been holding Eddie’s hair back. He tugs harshly, pulling the other boy’s mouth off of you in an instant.

The coil doesn’t snap. You nearly scream, your entire body aching fervently. 

Eddie’s neck is bared to you as you glance down, hair still pulled taut by Steve’s grip as he licks his slick lips with a teasing grin. He catches your look of desperation and frustration, and one corner of his mouth turns the grin lopsided, “Told you, sweetheart. He’s feeling mean today, not me.” 

“She’s been a brat. Brats don’t fucking cum,” Steve glares down at you, making you squirm, legs still hooked over Eddie’s shoulders. 

You're dizzy from nearly coming to the fruition of your release, but still find a spark of snark somewhere deep in your chest as you lazily roll your eyes at Steve. 

“Bite me, Steve.” 

Eddie gives your thighs one last tight squeeze before your legs drop off of him as he moves to stand up beside Steve. He crawls backwards slowly, deliberately wiggling his brows on his flush face, “Mouthy, are we?” 

“Far too mouthy,” Steve quips, letting go of Eddie’s hair finally. The curls brush his collarbones, falling in dark waves over his bare shoulders. 

“Maybe you should put her mouth to better use, Stevie.” 

They watch the breath get caught in your throat, the clench of your thighs as your eyes widen. Chest heaving. Pupils blown. You’re an image to be held right now by them, but they’re not going to tell you that – not yet. 

“You’re right,” Steve muses. He’s hard, painfully so, as he moves to cup his balls, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, “Get her on her knees for me.” 

Eddie helps you stand, taking the pillow that had been wedged beneath your hips and dropping it to the ground at Steve’s feet. Your knees still shake from your flames. You’re convinced they’ll burn you alive before the night is over, before your boys are done with you. 

Your hands grasp onto Eddie’s forearms for a moment, steadying yourself. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, a private moment between the two of you as he brings a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him with devastating gentleness compared to the roughness they’ve shown you thus far. He’s smiling softly, no sign of cynical or cruelty as he tilts his head, “How you doin’? What’s your color?” 

“Still green, Eds,” you insist, leaning into his touch.

“And what do you say if it starts to get to be too much?”

“Yellow.” 

“And if you need to full stop, no questions asked?” 

“Red.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, dimples protruding before he leans down to kiss you. He tastes of nicotine, of mint, of you. Your tongue chases after his own into his mouth, losing yourself momentarily in the way his fingers continue to cradle your chin as he movements remain patient, giving. A stark contrast to what you’re used to in the bedroom, but exactly what you expect from the boy outside of the bedroom. 

“Any day now,” Steve sighs, reminding you two of his presence. You both pull back and Eddie drags his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging and mimicking the show you’d made with the syrup for him that morning. 

“Sorry,” Eddie rasps out, eyes still on you, “Just couldn’t resist. You know me, always the giver.” 

“Right,” Steve snorts, the tenseness of the moment momentarily lifted as Eddie moves you to your knees in front of Steve. “Because you were so giving to her last week when you spit in her mouth after she begged for a kiss.” 

Eddie shrugs, fingers carding through your hair and pulling it back over your shoulders, “I have my days. Just like you, clearly.” 

His touch leaves you as you come face to face with Steve’s dick now, lashes fluttering as you look up at the two men. Eddie is quick to remove his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the crotch of them. 

It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth waters at the mere sight of the two of them. Steve is big – in girth, in length – and you know him to be a challenge, always leaving your jaw aching. But Eddie is smaller – still girthy, still perfectly fitted to hit the perfect angles inside of you when he drills you into the mattress – but simply less intimidating. Steve stands tall and proud, but Eddie’s dick curves ever so slightly to the right, a darker shade of pink on his tip that nearly perfectly matches his lips and your own blushing cheeks. 

“Look at her,” Eddie coos, stepping out of the discarded boxers and coming around behind Steve, having to lean down to place his chin on Steve’s shoulder as his arms wrap around the boy’s waist loosely, “Already cock drunk, and all we’ve done is take off our clothes.” 

Steve is the one smirking now as Eddie places a succession of kisses over his shoulder, up his neck, both men look at you intently. “She is, isn’t she?” 

“Just pathetic,” Eddie goads. Steve nods in agreement immediately. 

You don’t say a word as Steve grips himself again and Eddie lets go of him, side-stepping to become a spectator once more before Steve guides his tip to your lips, tapping expectantly. 

“Not so mouthy anymore, are you, baby?” Steve teases you. You shake your head before you let your lips part, jaw slack as you open your mouth for Steve.

The weight of him on your tongue is heavy, and you give yourselves a moment to just savor it. This is what you had been wanting since this morning, what you’d been begging for the entire day. 

By the way Steve’s head falls back with a moan, he’d spent the entire day longing for this just as much as you. 

“Just like that,” he whines, hard exterior cracking as you begin to bob your head against him, taking your time as your tongue swirls around his tip. You breathe deeply through your nose, slow as you begin to swallow him down, taking him further and further down your throat until he hits the back of it and gags you. The restriction of your throat has him releasing a deep groan, pulling from his chest as his hand reaches down to find purchase in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth is so good for me, baby. So good.”

“So much better when she’s putting it to good use, right?” Eddie comments, and you can hear the schlick of his fist pumping himself, fluid movements with the flick of his wrist. 

Steve hums in agreement, fingers tightening against your scalp as you take him further down, choking once more. Tears have sprung to your eyes as you finally pull back, gasping for breath as you pepper kisses across his tip and down the length, reaching his balls before you mouth at them. His hips buck without constraint. 

You’ve caught you breath by the time you’re kissing up the opposite side, sucking his tip as harshly as Eddie had treated your clit, a throb ricocheting through you as his fans with your flames with every pant of your name. A chant, a prayer, an answer of forgiveness – your stunt at Family Video is long forgotten as you sit back on your heels and open your mouth wide, making it clear you want him to fuck your face. 

His eyes shoot open and catches sight of you waiting patiently. When he doesn’t make the first move, you reach up and tug on him, one hand stroking him and the other placed against his thigh. 

“Fuck my mouth, sir,” you beg of him, some of the lingering tears in your eyes still wetting your lashes, “Please.” 

The please is all it takes. The way your voice cracks, the way your thighs clench as you whine. Steve wastes no time in placing both his hands on the back of your head, watching you intently. 

Your hand starts to drop from his thigh, and he’s quick to grab it and place it back in its original position firmly. 

“Two taps to slow down, three taps to stop. Understood?” You nod dumbly, and he pulls on a strand of hair, making you gasp.“Say it. Say you understand.” 

“I understand. Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” 

Once the words leave your mouth, your hand still on his thigh, he thrusts into your waiting mouth. There’s no mercy as his hips jerk towards you, immediately pressing down your throat and leaving you a drooling mess. Each thrust brings on a fresh wave of tears, leaving your cheeks wet as you let him use you for his own pleasure. Each time his tip taps the back of your throat, you feel your core begin to ache worse, shuffling your thighs to keep your balance as well as seek out friction. You let your eyes divert from watching the way Steve’s chest frantically heaves to Eddie, who’s eyes are half-shut, wrist still flicking lazily, moving to a slower pace than the force that Steve fucks your mouth with. You try to communicate with your eyes for him to come closer, but to no avail. 

Finally, you tap Steve’s thigh twice, and his movements slow to nearly a stop, letting his dick drop from your tongue as you puff to catch your breath. 

“Everything okay?” Steve immediately checks in on you, and you nod, focusing your attention.

“C’mere,” you plead with Eddie, holding out a hand. He’s quick to come to you, and in an instant, you replace his fist with your own after spitting into your palm. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, hips stuttering as you pick up his pace where he left off. 

The boys share a look before you glance up to Steve. 

“Sorry,” you smirk softly, “Eddie just looked a little lonely. Continue as you were.” 

Steve’s thrusts are even more frantic now as his eyes dart between your eyes and your hand, tugging on Eddie’s dick to match the pace set by him. He tests it out, slowing his movements and immediately widening his eyes at the way your hand follows his guidance. 

Eddie seems to realize this at the exact time, as they both moan out in sync. 

Just as you realize how sore your throat is sure to be come tomorrow, the possibility of bruising on your mind, Steve’s breathing becomes more ragged, thrusts faltering while Eddie begins to whine incessantly. 

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps out, finally thrusting to meet your fist, “Fucking- Holy shit, my God.” 

“I’m going to cum,” Steve grunts out, abdomen contracting, “I- Fuck, baby. Fuck, take it. Just like that.” 

His praises become incoherent as Eddie smacks your hand away from him, quickly guiding your now free-hand to play with Steve’s balls. That’s all it takes for Steve, a few ginger rolls and pinches against his heavy sack, before he’s cumming in rapid spurts down your throat. He presses you up against his pelvis, your nose buried in his pubic hair, as he groans and curses through his high. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as you take it in stride, swallowing every drop that Steve offers to you. 

“Well, shit,” he breathes out through his nose as you pull back from Steve, letting a string of spit trail from your chin to his softening dick, “That never gets fucking old.” 

You laugh hoarsely, “Neat trick, huh?” 

Steve helps you off of your knees gently before he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, Eddie still standing with his dick against his abs, pink tip more swollen than before. 

You stand between Steve’s knees and lean down, letting one of your knuckles brush over his check before you push some of his stray hairs off of his forehead with care, “Have I proven I’m sorry yet, sir?” 

He breathlessly chuckles, eyes shut in residual bliss, “Fuck you.” 

You’re shocked when Eddie comes up behind you as you’re still bent over, and suddenly running his tip through your soaking folds. Steve leans forward to kiss you hard, catching the whine that spills out from your throat. 

“I think we owe her an orgasm still, Stevie,” Eddie comments, hand wrapping around the front of you as he pulls you back from Steve, fingers flicking your nipples before his hand comes to rest around your throat. Your back is flush with his chest, he’s tucked between your thighs as your core flutters around nothing. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?” 

Your hum is lost in your chest, your flames desperate to lick at Eddie’s wrists as you lean your head back on his shoulder and let his fingers give an experimental squeeze to your throat.

“Still too much of a cock drunk slut to answer me, I see,” Eddie tsks, kissing the back of your shoulder chastely, “That’s alright. I’m still in a giving mood, baby — Let me take care of you.” 

Steve watches, silent and entranced, as you become pliable in Eddie’s hands. You put up no fight as presses you to get on your hands and knees on the bed, letting your knees slide further apart until you’ve sunk to the perfect height for Eddie to slip his dick between your slit once more, his tip catching your clit and making you jerk forward. His hands massage your ass, still red from Steve’s spankings, thumbs rubbing gentle circles and the cool and sticky rings managing to soothe the heat that radiates from you. 

“Look at that,” Eddie nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, “You’re already ready for me. She’s practically begging to be filled by me.” 

“I am,” you agree, curling your fists into the sheets to prepare yourself, “Please fill me, Eddie. Please.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning forward as some of his weight lays along your back, whispering in your ear, “I wasn’t talking about you, slut. I was talking about that pretty pussy of yours.” 

Without warning, Eddie sinks in. He was right — your walls stretch to welcome him, sucking him in tightly until he’s bottomed out, groaning huskily into your ear still. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps with you, “This wet, just for us?” 

You hear Steve make a weak noise off to the side of you two, and tilt your head to find him already half hard again, eyes focused on where Eddie fills you.  

“Just for you,” you supply through whines that creep up on you, fry tile in your attempt to swallow them down, already clenching down on Eddie as you burn, “Only for my boys.” 

Your eyes lock with Steve’s. He’s fully hard at the term of possessiveness. 

Eddie finally begins to rock against you, lifting from your back, each snapping of his hips focused on nudging his tip deeper into you, hitting the spot that has your back arching as you cry out. He’s wasting no time, hardly being careful of your sore skin as his thighs meet the back of yours.

“God, you take me so well. Always take us so well, sweetheart,” Eddie rambles, mutterings of curses spilling from his lips as he reaches to hold your hips with a tight grip. Even if your throat wasn’t bruised, your hips surely would be. 

Steve has begun to touch himself again, matching Eddie’s strokes to his own. 

“So fucking tight,” Eddie groans out, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, mind reeling as the burn that has scorned you all day threatens to spread. Coals in the pit of your stomach, turning your vision right and your body flush pink, “You want my cum sweetheart? Just like in those pretty photos?” 

You clench around him, walls beginning to flutter as you chant an alternation of his name and Steve’s. 

“You know what, Eddie? I think those photos are a bit dated by now, don’t you think? I think we need to take a new picture of our pretty little pussy,” Steve cuts in, tone uneven as he thrusts into his own fist. 

You clench harder.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Eddie’s hot chest is back against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear with each rock of his hips. He’s impossibly deep — you’re sure if you were to press on your lower stomach, you’d feel him there. “Want me to fill you with all my cum like the fucking slut you are? Hm?” 

It’s as if he was reading your mind, a hand trailing from your hips over where he is in fact bulging against your lower stomach. He lays his palm flat and applies pressure, and your mouth hangs open, unable to make a sound as your face screws up in pleasure, “Feel that? Feel how fucking deep I am in you right now?” he pauses, and thrusts even harder, knocking you down from your palms to your elbows, “I bet you’d like me to fill you with my cum, I bet you want me to put a fucking baby in you, sweetheart. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? God, I know you love that idea, squeezing me so tight.” 

Steve groans out from beside the two of you again, chest red as he chases his second organs of the night. You’re too overwhelmed with your coil once more tightening to take in the sight.

“I bet you’d let us take turns, fucking babies into you, making you nice and round with our fucking kids. I bet your tits would get nice and pretty, big and sensitive, huh?” Eddie edges you on, noticing the way you’ve begun to rock back into him, still fluttering around him wildly with each of his words. His hand travels up to your chest and twists a nipple painfully, “Is that what you want, brat? You want us to breed you?” 

“Yes,” you finally find your words, crying out, unable to chase your breath as everything inside you ignites, “Please breed me, p-please,” you stutter as tears begin to flow down your cheeks again, “I- Please let me cum. I’m gonna cum, please-”

The words you’ve been waiting for all day finally fall from Eddie’s lips, “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your vision goes white as you burst into flames, face pressing fully into the mattress roughly as Eddie continues to pound into you, taking no time to slow down. Your ears ring, unable to hear a single soothing word either he or Steve coos at you through your release, only focused on how full you are of Eddie, the ache in your jaw from Steve, the burn of your ass from Steve’s palm. You’re sure you’ve screamed through it by the new scratchiness that settles with the residual ache in your throat. 

When you finally come back to, the flames finally tamed as the embers and ash settle, Eddie is still rutting relentlessly into you, clearing chasing his own high now. 

“Fuck,” he whines out, drawing the word out as his hips stutter, “G-Gonna cum, gonna fill you up so full of my cum, sweetheart, I-” 

He cuts off, and you feel his warmth paint your walls as he bites onto your shoulder, hardly muffling the sinful noises coming from his mouth. For a moment, he relaxes his full weight on top of you before lifting at the sound of Steve’s whines. 

He doesn’t pull out yet, beckoning to Steve as he sees the boy coming close to release. You’re still coming down, smoke still clearing from your head, hardly registering when Eddie leaves you empty, only for Steve to begin to pump himself over you. His cum mixes with Eddie’s as it leaks out of you, painting your puffy lips in both of them. His moans and groans sound as if they come from underwater. 

You stay laying there, entire body trembling from exhaustion, entire upper body collapsed as Steve soothingly holds your hips.

“Stay up for us just one more second baby,” he kisses your temple, sickly sweet before you hear the shutter of a camera. 

There’s a whirring of film being produced as your hips finally collapse and your feet brush the carpeted floor, body sagging in relief. You’re fully unaware of Steve and Eddie’s movements, unsure of which one retrieves the wet cloth to clean you off, which one gathers you up before pulling back the comforter and sheets to snuggly fit you into the center of the bed. You think it’s Steve that produces the glass of water, as he whispers ‘drink’ and encourages you to drain half the glass before each boy takes to laying on either side of you. You curl instinctually into Steve’s chest as Eddie presses his body carefully to the back of you, grabbing your hand and intertwining fingers before he begins to place kisses down your arm. Steve traces soothing circles over your thigh. 

“You did so good for us, honey,” Steve murmurs as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “So good.” 

Eddie leans back to look at your bare ass, catching sight of the handprints left welting, “Sheesh. Stevie really did a number on you, didn’t he, sweetheart?” 

You whine pathetically in response, making both men chuckle. 

“It isn’t that bad, is it?” Steve finally asks after a beat of silence, attempting to crane his neck to catch sight of the damage done. 

“Nothing a little lotion and lovin’ can’t fix,” Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting go of your hand, “My head, on the other hand, still hurts from you pulling my hair, dickhead.” 

“You weren’t listening to me, asshole.” 

With the flames dying down, all that’s left now is a warmth of unimaginable lengths, something to have and to hold as the two boys bicker from either side of you. 

When silence begins to soothe over you three, when you can feel both Steve’s head beneath your chest and Eddie’s against your shoulders rising and falling evenly, you finally dare to whisper, “I’m sorry for being such a brat today.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby,” Steve mumbles, clearly on the verge of sleep as his fingers have slowed in their gentle dance over your thigh. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees, mouth pressed to the nape of your neck, “You know we don’t mind. We’re always more than happy to put you back in your place.” 

“We’re sorry for ignoring you this morning,” Steve continues on drearily, on the cusp of drifting out of consciousness, “You can have ten more minutes of every morning from now on, I swear. I… I can call… I can call out of work tomorrow, or just… go in late,” Steve’s words become increasingly slurred as he clearly starts to fall asleep mid sentence. 

You can’t help but giggle into his chest, adoration flooding you for his snores that begin. “He’s definitely not going to call out tomorrow, is he?” 

Eddie’s still awake behind you, each puff of his breath on your neck soothing you to follow Steve’s lead into unconsciousness. He brings a hand to your hip and pinches you lovingly, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m actually off work tomorrow. Maybe we can get up to some trouble, return the favor and take some polaroids for Stevie to have of his own.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x steve harrington x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #i have no excuse i'm sorry y'all #i don't remember the color of anything don't ask

[sinsirellaxx]

The slytherin boys react to you breaking up with them but youre hella toxic😛

Have also been fucking obsessing over your page wtf

Slytherin Boys – What they’d be like if you broke up with them

Warning: toxic Slytherin boys (nothing new) and toxic reader

A/N: Thank you so much. I'm glad you like my page! 🥰

Mattheo …

… he’d be confused. Everything was going well, right? You were madly in love with him, right?! Apparently not. You smiled at him evilly as you watched the cocky smirk, he always wore on his lips disappear.

Everything played out in slow motion as Mattheo listened to you telling him that it was his fault. That he wasn’t enough. That he’d never be enough for you.

Before he could register what he was doing he was all over you, desperately holding onto your shoulders as he shook you. “D-Don’t say that love. I can change! I can be better.” He pleaded with you, which was very untypical of him. Looking at him with disgust, you pushed him away, shaking your head as you told him that there was someone else.

“Who is it?” Mattheo grit out, the feeling of hurt being completely replaced by raw anger.

You told him his name, the smirk never leaving your face as you felt pure excitement at his pain. Finally, it was your turn to watch his world came crashing down instead of your heart being broken, day after day by him.

The dark-haired male scoffed, “You’ll regret that, love. He won’t be able to tame a brat like you.” He tilted his head as he glared at you, still in disbelief over your audacity.

You walked out of his room, briefly stopping to speak over your shoulder before you disappeared out of his life. Oh, he can handle me just fine.

Theodore …

… outright refuses. “You can’t break up with me.” Theodore wouldn’t even leave room for discussion or a fight – he’d simply kiss you and continue acting like you were still together. You left his room? He isn’t worried – he’ll see you tomorrow.

You ignore him in class? Nah, you’re just playing hard to get. He’d still sit next to you, even if he had to threaten the person already sitting there to stand up. They would, obviously, get lost as no one wanted to get on Theo’s bad side. You didn’t want to embarrass him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It was now your mission to publicly shame him – be it mentioning how he reeks of smoke loudly in front of everyone or calling him clingy and outright creepy. After a week you loudly screamed at him, in the middle of the Great Hall, that you had broken up with him and that he should leave you alone.

But Theodore was stubborn. So, you had to resort to more … toxic ways. You sent him a message and asked him to come over that evening to watch a movie together. Theodore immediately returned to his cocky self when he read the message – he knew you were just playing around. What he didn’t expect to find when he arrived was one of his best friend’s head between your legs.

Lorenzo …

… gaped at you as you demanded to see his phone, your arm stretched out in front of you as you wiggled your fingers to motion for him to put his phone into your waiting palm.

You suddenly wanted to check his messages – which was weird, because he was usually the one in your relationship who wanted to control and check everything. Enzo reluctantly gave you his phone, he had nothing to hide – he really didn’t. Yet you still found something to be pissed about.

The day after that Lorenzo was changing, about to go out with his boys. You stared at him from where you were lying on his bed, frowning at the satin dress-shirt he had chosen to wear. Enzo whipped around to stare at you in shock when you told him he had to change. His nipples were clearly showing. When Lorenzo refuse, yelling at you how ridiculous he thought you were being, you jumped up from the bed and walked up to him. Your faces mere inches apart. After a moment of silence, you raised a brow and told him it was over – that he was the biggest hypocrite, for being offended even though that was the way he always acted with you. Ripping the diamond necklace he had given you on Valentine’s Day off your neck you threw it into his chest, turning to leave the room. Your hips swaying as you left a shocked Lorenzo in his room.

Draco …

… it had taken you a while to get used to Draco’s love language. Gift giving. You didn’t want to be ungrateful, but Draco knew no limits. A new Cartier bracelet? You got it. An iced-out Rolex for that empty wrist of yours? Check. Flowers every week, followed by a colorful box of macarons? Double-check. No matter how much time had passed, it wasn’t getting better. The only thing that had changed was you: You started liking the expensive gifts more and more. You even purposefully talked about things you saw online or in stores, knowing very well that he would go and buy it for you like the good boy he was. The only downside? He wanted you to be well-behaved. You were supposed to dress a certain way, be styled every single day and there was no room for imperfections. You were tired. You were planning on breaking up with him for a while now but there were still those new boots that just came out and you were waiting for them to arrive – you knew Draco had bought them the second he had seen them on your phone screen.

Just one more day and you’d be waltzing out of Draco’s life with those new boots that were to die for.

Blaise …

… frowned at his phone as he was left on read by you. Again. The past few days you had been weirdly distant, taking hours to reply to his message until you didn’t anymore. Whenever he’d ask why you had left him on read you would roll your eyes and tell him that you had fallen asleep. Blaise was still skeptical but chose to ignore it for the moment.

What he couldn’t ignore, however, was the way you flirted with boys left and right.

“What the – what are you doing?” He asks obviously frustrated. You just shrug your shoulders and tell him it’s nothing. It’s not that deep. Stop being so clingy. You said, before standing up to leave. We’re over, Blaise.

Comments are appreciated! I'd really be happy about feedback. 🥹

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#slytherin boys #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini x reader #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #lorenzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys imagine

[sumeruin]

♫♪: punishments!!

♫♪: pairing: dottore x bunny hybrid! reader

♫♪: warnings: written by a minor, slight yandere, aphrodisiac usage, dacryphilia, grinding, reader gets tied up, begging, mentions of being cut open (nothing really graphic though dw), if i missed anything let me know!!!

♫♪: a/n: happy easter!! :)

♫♪: minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!

“zandik? do you think we could go for a walk sometime? it’s been a while since we’ve been able to do anything together.” dottore’s head immediately snapped in you direction, his eyes narrowed and full of suspicion.

“where did you hear that name?” you shoot him an innocent smile. “what do you mean? that’s your name, isn’t it, zandik? i think it’s a lovely name if i’m being honest.”

he scoffs, slowly approaching you like how a predator would approach its cornered prey. you feel a pit of anxiety and fear gnawing at your gut when you see the pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes, starting to think that maybe you had finally taken it too far.

dottore grips your face tightly in his hand once he reaches you, his other moving to rest wrapped around your neck. “you know very well what i mean. you know not to talk about my past.” he forces your head up to stare directly into his eyes, and you swear you see the corners of lips quirk up when he sees the glassy shimmer of fear in yours, obviously enjoying how easy it is for him to rile you up.

“i think a punishment is in order, you need to learn how to control that mouth of yours and stop being such a brat.” you swallow nervously at his words. his punishments are always agonizing. your ears involuntarily twitch at the memory of your last one, still able to remember the way his scalpels felt when he carved open your skin.

“no! i’m sorry, dottore. i didn’t mean it!” he smirks, clearly enjoying your begging. “that’s better, but still not enough. you broke one of my rules, and you think a simple apology will be enough? you’re dumber than i thought.”

you desperately grab his sleeve, eyes starting to fill with tears that threatened to spill with every passing second. “please! i’ll do anything, i promise, just please, not another punishment. i’ll be good, i won’t ever break any of the rules again, i swear!”

dottore smiles at you, removing his hands from your face and neck to rest one of the back of your head and bury it in his chest, his thumb lightly stroking the base of one of your fluffy ears. the other moves down to rest on your waist, softly caressing your puffy tail and bringing you that much closer to him. he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head before speaking.

“as much as i enjoy your sweet voice begging me to take pity on you, i’m afraid i can’t let you go without a punishment this time.” his hold on you gets tighter when he feels you jolt in fear, tears finally spilling and soaking the fabric of his shirt. “but, if you calm down and stop trying to escape the inevitable, i might go easier on you. i have a couple new drugs i’ve been meaning to test, and none of the side effects are permanent. if you’re good, you can test those for me and i won’t have to cut you open again. as much i enjoy punishing you that way, you have such adverse reactions to it, and i wouldn’t want to make my little rabbit distressed just because you said my name. that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

with the combination of dottore’s cologne invading your senses, the slight lack of air from being pressed against him for so long, and the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. he smiles when he feels you feebly nod your head against his chest, stroking your hair one last time before forcing you to your knees and tying your hands and legs up.

“now, just stay here and be good while i go get the medicine ready. it shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.” he kneels down and smooths away your tears while he speaks, leaving one last kiss to the top of your forehead before getting up and walking away, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts and a slowly increasing sense of relief that you wouldn’t be hurt again.

true to his words, dottore comes back five minutes later holding multiple bottles filled to the brims with color liquids. you watch curiously as he spreads them out in front of you. “since you’ve been so cooperative with your punishment this time, i’ve decided to let you choose which one you try. pick one out and i’ll save the others for later.” you slowly look down at your options, there’s so many it’s hard to choose. after a couple minutes of deliberation with dottore staring at you with a mix of love and fascination, you decide to go with the shimmery pink one in the heart shaped bottle.

“dottore?” he tilts his head to the side and hums. “what, little rabbit? have you decided?”

“mhm. i want the cute pink one!”

dottore laughs, patting your cheek condescendingly before sitting down on the floor in front of you. he picks up your chosen bottle and pulls off the cork before pressing it to your lips. “drink up, in order to get accurate results you have to take all of it.”

you obediently swallow everything in the bottle, and almost instantly you feel your entire body heat up, a sharp pang of arousal striking through your whole body. helpless whimpers start to slip from your lips as you look up and dottore with glossy, teary eyes. “ah! ‘tore, please help! hurts so bad, n-need you to touch me, hurts!” the end of your sentence trails off into a needy whine, and you lean your body against him.

you feel his chest vibrate with a small laugh while you hopelessly squirm and cry against him, his arms coming up to wrap around your body. “oh, dear, it seems my little experiment has put you into an early heat, huh? you poor thing.” he starts cooing at you in that sickeningly sweet voice he uses when he wants you to feel more like a pet than a person. “it was a very weak aphrodisiac, i didn’t think you’d react this strongly to it. i should’ve taken this into account though, it’s my fault, really.”

“don’ care, just need you to touch me! please ‘tore, it hurts!” you whine out, trying to grind against him for something, anything, to relieve the deep ache that’s settled between your legs. he shushes you, his hands starting to move up towards your soft, fluffy ears. he starts to gently rub at them, getting rougher when you let out a loud moan at the feeling.

dottore keeps playing with your ears like that while you grind yourself against his knee, the overwhelming sensations soon becoming too much for your body to handle as you violently cum all over his leg, the pain finally going away as you lean against him and let out a content sigh.

before you can say anything, you feel his large bulge underneath you, and as you feel your body heat up for the second time, you know that you’ll have a long night ahead of you.

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ angel’s creations ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin fanfic #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #yandere genshin smut #yandere dottore x reader #yandere dottore smut #yandere dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #genshin dottore #dottore

[thatbxolivia]

you’d been acting like a brat all day.

anakin hated using that word, really, he did. you were a kind and good hearted soul, but today you were acting like a brat.

you fought him getting up, you refused breakfast, whined all day, kept talking back, and to top it all off, you were rude to obiwan when he tried to give you a hug!

anakin had enough.

“get in the house.” he said sternly, closing the door behind you. you muttered under your breath about how stupid this all was and how you were a big girl and he couldn’t tell you what to do. “say it again, y/n.” he said, not using a nickname. you hung your head low and shuffled inside, going into your room and locking the door behind you. you threw your bag across the room and screamed. you didn’t know why you were being this way today either, but now daddy hated you. you heard quick footsteps coming to you and daddy tried to open the door, sighing when it was locked. “absolutely not, open the door. you know better!” he said, raising his voice slightly, knocking. “y/n, you know the rules, this door stays unlocked, always!” he banged on the door again. you unlocked it and tried to shove him out. “absolutely not.” he muttered, man handling you to turn around and bend over the bed. “keep going.” he taunted, holding you over the bed with your hands behind your back. “what’s gotten into you?” he questioned, genuinely concerned. you were getting a punishment, that wasn’t up for debate, but he still wanted to know so he could maybe make you feel better.

“i don’t know!” you sobbed. “let me go!” you cried, kicking. daddy used his knee to hold your legs down, forcing you to be still.

“you need to breathe.” was all he said, sighing. he loved you so much and he would never leave you but this was becoming an issue. he had a feeling you’d gone off your meds again, and he was seeing now that this was something you needed him to manage for you. this was an issue, like he said, and he needed to correct it. he would do so by handing out medication for you and dispensing it when needed. but before that, he had to correct your attitude. your medicine, or lack thereof, explained your behavior but it did not excuse it. “what’d you do today?”

“i was mean.” you whined. daddy nodded.

“what else? you’re not getting off that easy.” he said.

“i was mean to obi wan, i was mean to you, and i fought you on everything.” you cried. you hated punishments because you were always convinced daddy hated you afterwards.

“wasn’t very nice, was it?” he asked you rubbing the side of your hip soothingly.

“no, daddy.” you sniffled. he sighed, not really wanting to punish you but it would teach you that you could get away with these things if he didn’t. he began pulling your skirt up and gave you fifteen hard slaps on your backside, causing you to cry out. by the last one, he himself felt like an ass for making you cry. he let your skirt fall back down.

“hey, come here.” he said, pulling you back up. you had tears in your eyes and reached out for your daddy. he pulled you in for a hug, rubbing your back. “i love you.” he told you, your head in the corner of his neck.

“you hate me!” you wailed.

“i could never.” he said, rubbing your back some more. he cupped the back of your head and made you look at him. you were hiccuping and crying and your daddy’s heart broke looking at you. “i could never hate you.” he said again. “i love you so much, i do this because i know you’re a good girl and punishments will correct your behavior. you’re still a good girl even if you make mistakes. if you weren’t good, you wouldn’t learn, so i wouldn’t bother. yeah?” he said, and he made sense. you were just still upset and embarrassed. your daddy knew this and brushed hair out of your face. “please don’t hide from me, i love you so much.” he told you. you sniffled and nodded.

“i get scared you hate me.” you choked out.

“i could never hate you.” he repeated. “never. you are the love of my life, i could never feel anything for you aside from complete and utter love.” he said.

“it’s so hard to remember.” you said. “i’m so sure.” you said, feeling kind of crazy for having all these emotions.

“have you been taking your meds?” daddy asked calmly. you sobbed and shook your head. “it’s okay, there’s no need to cry, baby.” he told you. “daddy’s gonna manage those from now on and hopefully that’ll make you feel better. and daddy isn’t upset at all. nor do i blame you, so please don’t think that. i love you so much.” he pleaded with you. you shook from crying, unable to look up. you were still embarrassed. “you’re still my perfect girl.” he said, giving you a hug.

“daddy, i love you. i’m sorry about today.”

“it’s okay, baby. daddy knows and he understands why. everything is okay.” he promised you, giving you one more hug. “let’s get you into a bath, will that help you calm down?” he suggested and you nodded. he quickly got you undressed and into the bathroom as he ran the water. he hugged you, keeping you warm.

“daddy, will you get in with me?” you asked, shy.

“of course i will, you sure?” he asked and you nodded. “okay, baby, you got it.” he said, undressing himself. as the water got close enough, he helped you in then got in behind you, the two of you sitting in the tub. “i know we cleaned you this morning but i figured the hot water would still help you.” he said, kissing your shoulder blade. you sat in the large tub between his legs and nodded. “what else are you thinking about?” he asked.

“i just don’t want obiwan to hate me either.” you said and daddy shook his head.

“obi wan understands you were grumpy today and he knows not to take it personal. i will explain to him what happened with the medication and that’ll make him understand everything. really, it’ll be okay.” daddy reassured you.

“okay, i believe you.”

“good girl.” he said, rubbing your back. you laid back and listened to his heartbeat for a few moments. he held you just above the water, making you feel secure. a few moments passed and he began lathering up a sponge. he gently put your hair up then washed your back, arms, and legs. he rinsed you off quick and the two of you sat there a brief moment before getting out. “i do want to say something.” daddy stopped you. you got quiet and looked. “you know i love you. and i’m never leaving. but don’t hit me, baby.” he told you, looking at you. “don’t hit me when i’m just trying to help.” you were about to ask what he was talking about but you remembered shoving him and kicking him and began crying.

“I’m sorry.”

“hey, i know you are. and i’ve already forgiven you. i’m not judging you, i just want you to know it can’t happen again. this is a safe space for both of us, that means me, too.”

“i know, daddy, i’m sorry.” you sniffled.

“it’s okay, baby. daddy understands why it happened and you know i forgive you.” he promised, pulling you in for a small hug. “i have never loved someone so much. please don’t think i’m mad, i’m not, it just can’t happen again.” he told you, setting his boundary. you nodded, trying not to take it personal. you knew he had every reason to ask you to not hit him, so why were you so upset?

“okay…” you trailed off as he helped you out of the water and wrapped you up.

“no, none of that, tell me what’s on your mind.” he said, wrapping a towel around his waist. and you did, you told him exactly what you were thinking.

“i’m trying not to take criticism so personally… and it’s not even criticism… i know you have the right to ask me not to hit you but i’m upset still and i don’t know why, daddy.” you cried, upset at being upset. his expression softened and he pulled you in for another hug.

“you’re embarrassed.” was all he said. “you’re embarrassed about earlier today and just now and it’s making you feel shameful. you don’t need to feel that way, though. i love you, obi wan loves you, everything is going to be okay.” he said, wiping your tears. you nodded, shaking from the crying. “come on, sweet girl.” he maneuvered you out to the bedroom and got you dressed after applying lotion, then dressed himself. he left momentarily and came back on the phone, talking to obiwan.

“yeah, we’ve had a hard day today.” your daddy said, referring to the two of you. “do you have a moment?”

“of course i have a moment for her, put her on.” you heard obiwan say. he didn’t sound mad at all.

“hi.” you said softly, picking at your thumb with your free hand before daddy stopped you. you sighed.

“hi, little one. your daddy told me about the meds, how do you feel?”

“sad.”

“well, that won’t do. that’s no good.”

“feel stupid, obi wan.” you said, sniffling.

“don’t feel stupid. people forget medicine all the time. you have a lot on your plate and you’re just a little one, it’s good anakin will watch over for you.” obiwan said. you nodded, knowing he was right.

“i’m sorry for being mean, obiwan.” you sniffled, beginning to cry again. daddy started to rub your back again.

“hey, hush now. everything is okay, i forgive you.” obiwan said. you breathed a sigh of relief, happy you didn’t lose your friend. “i think it’s time for you to take your nap, how about we all go for dinner when you’re up? will that make you feel better?”

“can i have a hug when i see you?” you asked.

“you can have two.” he told you, chuckling. you laughed a little, too.

“thank you. i love you.”

“i love you too, kiddo. both of you, we’ll talk later.” he promised and hung up. you handed the phone back to daddy.

“we see obiwan tonights?” you asked. your daddy laughed and nodded. “after i nap?”

“yes, baby. after you nap.” he said, tucking you in and handing you your stuffed bear. it was actually an old toy of anakin’s and he had repurposed it for you. you loved it.

“i love you, daddy.” you said, smiling.

“i love you, baby. so much.” he said, kissing your forehead and turning off the lights. “want daddy to nap with you?”

“yes please.” you said. he got in next to you and you snuggled up, on his chest, legs tangled together. your favorite sleeping position.

“you know i’m gonna be around forever, right? i’m not going anywhere.” he told you, kissing you on the lips. you smiled and nodded.

“i won’t go anywhere either.” you promised.

“good.” he whispered, kissing your forehead this time. “go to bed. i promise i’ll be here when you wake up.” he told you.

and you fell asleep, safe and feeling secure.

#fanfic #archive of our own #star wars agere #anakin x reader #cg!anakin #anakin skywalker #daddy!anakin #star wars anakin #anakin x you

[fan-goddess]

Patience

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x girlfriend!reader

Summary: Aegon gets impatient when reader denies giving him what he wants at a dinner. So he decides to take it into his own hands. Literally…

Warnings: NSFW below the cut, m masturbation, p in v sex, porn with plot,

Taglist: @lovelykhaleesiii,

Your long term boyfriend Aegon Targaryen has never been a patient person. Even with the simplest of tasks, within five minutes or even less, your boyfriend will be whining and nagging like a child on the verge of a tantrum.

His patience only got worse when he had to wait for sex. That night Alicent had invited both you and him to a dinner with the family. A thing Aegon hated doing, yet tolerated cause he knew otherwise he’d get an earful from his mother. You’d dressed up in a nice dress Aegon had suggested and drove there together. Throughout the entire journey, he’d been attempting to slyly tempt you to turn around and go home.

“Come on princess! I know that you don’t exactly get much joy out of my mother and her stupid fucking dinners! So let’s go home now, and maybe we can watch some Netflix and just chill together… just you and me?” His hand that always seems to be permanently attached to your knee travels higher up your leg, before you stop it with your own hand and a stern look.

“No you little baby. I promised Alicent we’d go tonight! Plus, Helaena’s gonna be there and we haven’t caught up in weeks. I wanna see how her date with that flower shop girl went last week ago.”

The whine that rips through Aegons throat was almost amusing. You held an amused smirk, but it seemed to only make him more whiny. As the rest of the car ride Aegon looked out the window and every so often changed the song playing on the radio calling it “practically illegal of the ear”.

When you get to the restaurant and get directed to the table, you greet Alicent and the rest warmly. Aegon does hang around more behind, yet he does share a couple warm smiles with Aemond and Helaena when they come to greet him. When Alicent comes to him though, the two exchange only the needed pleasantries and a small kiss on the forehead before she comes and starts a conversation with you about her latest trip.

Eventually all the pleasantires were exacjnged, and you all are sat at the giant table, where you and Aegon are placed to sit in front of Alicent together. Though not even ten minutes pass before Aegon finds himself leaning over to whisper in your ear, “quickie in the bathroom?”

You give him a raised eyebrow

“But it’s aching! Are you going to be so cruel denying your boyfriend the release he so desperately needs?” He whispered in your ear. His hand mimicked what it did early in the car. It wandering further and further upwards, getting stopped by your own hand once again before it could reach it’s desired location.

“Yes I will. Because if my boyfriend doesn’t stop being such a fucking brat he’ll get his ass spanked and won’t be able to sit properly for a while. That’s why.” You didn’t look at Aegon when you whispered your threat to him, though when you did after your threat, It almost broke you then and there to see his eyes visibly turn dark with want and desperation.

Throughout the rest of the evening however when you tried to continue with the night as normal, Aegon persisted in his mission to tease you into getting what he wanted. When you still somehow manage to continue to speak Alicent about her latest trip went (a boring conversation you must admit), Aegon successfully managed to slip a hand up the length of your dress and slowly caress the skin of your inner thigh with a single finger.

When you looked at him with warning though, Aegon was already looking at you with a raised and daring look. As if he wanted you at that very moment to call him out and punish him in front of everyone. You shoved his hand off you, and nearly openly laughed at the small pout beginning to grow on his lips.

Aegons next play though, was downright sinful and deserving of purgatory. He’d gone to the bathroom innocently enough. Not subtly requesting for you to go to. Not whispering how he’ll be waiting for you. Instead, aegon sends you a two minute long video of him jerking off in the toilet stalls.

You were never more quick to check if you had your volume of in your life, and the breath you released was one of gratitude that it was. The camera angle wasn’t the best, but you’ve got to give him some credit considering he was in a shitty restaurant toilet cubicle.

He’d propped it up on the toilet basin so it showed his hard dick and his face in one shot. There was obviously some talking Aegon was doing to play it out. Probably some words going along the lines of, “This is what happens when you deny me princess…” followed by a whiny breathless moan. However it seems the genius forgot you weren’t able to listen to it. There’s no issue with that though. As now you’re able to save it and plop it into your ‘Aegons porn’ folder in your photos app to listen to later.

Aegon comes back to the table a couple minutes after sent the video, with what could only be described as a shit eating grin on his face. “Did you see it?” He whispers.

An idea forms in your head and you can’t wait to plan it out. “No? See what sweetheart?” To play it up ever more you give Aegon an innocent look and a bat of an eyelash that always makes Aegon stir in his seat. It works now, as an annoyed look in his eye gives away his intentions and leaves him moping the rest of the dinner.

Mean and bitchy comments were all that left his mouth the rest of the evening. Whenever snippets of conversations entered his ear his mouth ran and ran, and by the end of it most at the table were giving him some very dirty looks. Even when you placed a hand on his knee and mimicked what he did earlier, trailing a hand to his inner thigh to feel him, didn’t make his mood anymore bearable. You did feel the area on his crotch tighten slightly, though Aegon it seemed already decided his attitude for the rest of the night.

When the dinner was over, you exchanged pleasantries with Alicent and Helaena. Even exchanging a small polite smile with Aemond while he lurked behind. Aegon only gave a forced smile to his mother. Heading straight to the car after that and slamming the door behind him.

Alicent raised a brow at his behaviour. “My my I wonder what’s gotten into him? Though I can’t say I’m not surprised…” she sighs. It nearly makes you want to laugh out loud. It’s you. You’re what’s gotten into him. Still, you play the role of the nice responsible girlfriend and say the goodbyes from you and Aegon.

When you get in the car, aegons already connected his phone to the speaker to listen to some music, and is now looking out the car window with what may or may not be a pout on his face. You ask him if he’s still sulking, but he only responds with a huff and changes the playlist when some obnoxious pop song comes on. It’s almost amusing when ‘I hate my mom’ by GRLwood comes on first. Yet no laughter is exchanged. Only aegons moody huffs every so often.

Eventually you both arrive to your shared apartment. Aegon slams his door like a child in a tantrum, yet you cannot find yourself to be annoyed. If anything, you’re surprised he’s been able to hold this attitude up for so long just because of a simple tease.

“Hey darling?” You call out to him. He halts in his movement before he can lay a hand on the door, and tilts his head slightly so his ears directed to you to let you know he’s listening. “When you get up, strip and lay on the bed nice and pretty for me ok?” It’s barely noticeable, but Aegon grins slightly and speeds up his movements to head into the apartment.

You decide to take a little longer to head up, purely to antagonise him and make him sweat a little.

When you do eventually head into the apartment, you follow what looks to be a near frantic pile of clothes that lead into your shared bedroom, and when you enter it you’re very glad to find Aegons listened to instructions perfectly. “Good boy Aegon…” you praise with a smile while Aegon reciprocates it shyly with a light blush on his face.

“Lay on your back and spread your legs nice and wide for me please darling.”

He follows your instructions quickly, and you cannot help but admire him while he does. “Good boy…” you smile.

His cocks already fully hard, with the tip flushing to a shade of pink, and it takes you great pleasure in watching Aegon flush while you undress in front of him. When you’re fully naked, you crawl onto the bed and waste no time in sitting on Aegons soft thighs and using your hand to drag his cock to your dripping cunt.

The whine Aegon lets out is downright sinful, and the way his hands go to grip at you hips as you slowly rock on him.

“Please… don’t tease…” he whines. You reluctantly listen. Though not because he asked as pretty as he did, but because your own arousal had been practically pooling in your underwear the moment Aegon sent the video.

While you bounced, Aegon eyes kept being drawn to your breasts. Practically hypnotised by them to your amusements. “Go on stupid baby… suck on them like a good boy…” He launches himself forward desperately and uses a mixture of both teeth and tongue, as well as sucking little hickeys on your skin.

Your not surprised that after being wet for so long you last so little. As the coil in your stomach already feels like it’s tightening so much it may burst. Aegons grip also seems to be getting tighter, while his eyes are scrunched up and his mouth seems to be permanently latched on your nipple with his pathetic moans and whimpers vibrating through your skin. If you knew Aegon, then this was a clear indicator that he was close too.

A small pop brings your attention to Aegon, who’d now let go of your nipple and instead now had his mouth in a perfect o while he moaned like crazy with his eyes scrunched closed. It only got worse when one of your hands crept to his hair and clenched a fist in it.

The coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and with a series of clenches on Aegons dick and a harsh tug of his hair you come undone, bringing Aegon with you with a loud whine as you feel the sudden warmth of his cum flood you. When you release yourself from his grip and go to lay down beside him, you can even feel the remnants of some of it sliding out of you.

Aegons head immediately goes to the comfort of your tits and mumbles something you can’t hear. “What is it baby?” You ask while you fiddle with his sweat drenched hair.

“I’m sorry for being a brat…” it’s not any better in regards to volume since his head is quite literally smushed in the valley of your tits, but as least this time you heard it.

“That’s okay baby…” You say with a smile. “I know you don’t really mean it you drama prince…”

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon ii fic #modern aegon #modern!aegon targaryen #modern!au #modern house of the dragon #modern!hotd #modern! house of the dragon #hotd modern au #modern!aegon x reader #modern!aegon #modern!aegon targaryen x reader #modern!aegon targaryen/reader #modern!reader #alicent hightower #modern!aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen/reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon #aegon targaryen/you #aegon targaryen one shot #aegon targaryen x fem!reader #aegon targaryen x you

[semicolonsspace]

Dark! Bodyguard! Mitch Rapp

Warnings: Bodyguard! Mitch, Bratty reader, Diagnosis(Autism, ADHD, anxiety, and depression) Talk of Spiders, Somoniphilia, bondage, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, nicknames(little one, darling, princess, Angel, dollface)

Disclaimer: I'm autistic and this character represents me :>

Yet again, Y/n was trying to escape. She was currently on her balcony trying to climb over her railing. Mitch heard the shuffling and ran into her room searching for her. It was past her assigned bedtime. Her parents repeatedly told him that she needed to stay in her room and NOT go outside and search for Spiders.

His hands find her hips lifting her effortlessly. He walks through the doors, shuts them, and throws her on her bed, reminding her of the numerous smut books she's read. She screams with a smile on her face. Mitch loved it when she smiled like that. She looked angelic. So happy, the girl made her.

He gave her a stern look before it broke into an amused one. "It's passed your bedtime, Little One." She wanted his voice to be innocent, but it didn't sound like it to her. Maybe to others but it was just them, so, was it really innocent?

"Your spiders are sleeping, you can search tomorrow," he scolds her, his hand on his hip. "During the day," Mitch adds.

Y/n pouts and crosses her arms. She moves and sits on her bottom, her knees bent, her legs resting by her sides. "I don't have a bedtime! And my spiders are Nocturnal! I want to see the night spiders! Not the Day spiders!"

Now she was just acting childish. Spoiled even. But she couldn't just get everything she wanted. Mitch should teach her that... Even if it was very tempting to do so. Even tempting to spank her bottom for being such a brat and escaping the previous night. He was infuriated when he heard her successfully escape through the hallway bathroom window. She used that one because the bathroom in her room had no windows.

Her parents, The Hales were smart for that one. He silently thanked them in his mind when he first had a tour of their house. He also thanked him mentally for receiving all her information in a file on a given work phone. He was surprised at her background, to say the least. She had extreme PTSD when it came to being alone, the last time being when her ex-family member broke in and used her as a punching bag because he resented her. Resent her and ruining the family picture with her diagnosis. But really he did that by doing that.

Aside from that, he didn't really wasn't bothered about the other diagnosis that she had. Autism- She would sometimes become upset with certain clothing and tear them off, so he made a mental note to ask if she was comfortable with the clothing before starting the day. Anxiety- he understood and would help if he saw anything that gave him signs of it. Depression- he would make sure she's happy. Lastly, Insomnia- She had a set schedule she liked to abide to- aside from her bedtime. She despised sleeping during the night because that was when she was most vulnerable. So, he reassured her that during the night he would be in her room to keep watch. So she can sleep.

Y/n stumbles to her walk-in closet. He gets the hint so he turns around to give her privacy. Once she saw it was safe she instantly grabbed a sleep shirt which was an oversized shirt that framed her curvy hips.

Y/n thought to him scolding her. She loved it. He looked so hot, the reason why she was so bratty at times... From the constant scolding of Mitch, she still didn't hate him. She knew he was just doing his job. She thought about it logically. She would do the same if she were him.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts she sat on her bed. She shoved her legs under her sheets and sighed with contentment. She spread her legs repeatedly under the covers to feel the nice satin on her skin. She loved her satin sheets. She grabbed her laptop, placed it in her lap, and began typing away on the book she had been working on for a bit.

Mitch stalked toward her and took a peek at her screen. She situated it so he couldn't see. "Privacy! You would not like to know what I'm writing."

It only intrigued Mitch more but he left it that. He took out his phone and checked the time. "It's 11: 47..." He puts his phone into his pocket once more. "Past your bedtime- wrap it up, darling," He gestured to her laptop. She blushed hard at the new nickname and typed a bit more, probably summarizing what she wanted to happen for her future self to write. She snapped it shut and handed it to him. He gracefully took it and put it on her desk across the room and put it on charge for her.

She watched him do so, smiling to herself as he bent don't to grab the cable cord. "You have a nice bottom," Y/n whispers bluntly. Oh, but he heard her. He quickly turned and stared at her with an open mouth.

It took a second to recover. "Go to sleep, Princess," he said as his brows raised emphasizing she needed to sleep. If only she could crawl out of her covers to grab that laptop to write what she just thought of... Then he was standing in front of her, swiping a strand of hair out of her face. It fell back into her face and she blew it out of her face completely. Ironically, it looked like she was from a cartoon. His hand stays in her hair, falling to her face to cup her chin with his thumb, and then he repeats himself.

She leans into his touch, Contrary to popular belief, autistics hate physical contact but she adored it. She loved simple actions like finger-holding, arm clinging, hugging, and cuddling. Kissing freaked her out a bit but she was sure with the right person she would love it just as much.

Then he walked away like nothing happened. Like he hadn't just cupped her face so tenderly. Like he hadn't stared into her doe eyes so lovingly. Like he hadn't glanced at her lips while holding her pretty face.

Then she flips over on her bed, stripping herself from her shirt under the covers, and throws it. She didn't know where. Nor did she care. Mitch watched her and practically choked on his spit when it landed at his feet. "I guess she didn't like the texture," He thought to himself. He grabbed a book from her shelf and began reading. He became shocked when the first page was a full warning page of triggers. He quickly put it back.

"Yeah, don't grab from that shelf. It's filled with smut. Go for the other, it's more educational," She laughed as her eyes found him with a red face in her corner. He nodded and grabbed another book, a book on night crawlers. She smiled at the book choice.

Mitch stares at her sleeping form. He was in the lovesac like he had been for an hour. She's been asleep for about 20 minutes. She was now whimpering in her sleep, she normally did this. But tonight? It sounded a little needier. Her hips proved that by grinding against her body pillow she was cuddling. Her light grey sheets were lower than they were when she started to sleep. They rested on her bottom, only covering her bottom half. His eyes trailed her back, examining the scars he could make out. From what he could make out was a lightning bolt tattoo that littered her back covering joining the scars.

He stayed on the lovesac, his legs manspreading as his hands rested on his knees. He found her resting form so peaceful looking. Like she wasn't scared of anything. But he knew she wasn't that peaceful because even in her sleep she was prone to attempt to escape. She tried on his first night of being her bodyguard. He took immediate action and comforted her on the floor, holding her while she calmed down from a panic attack. Ever since that night, she was benign to him, going easy on him compared to testing him like she had done on the first day.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she kicked the covers off of her body. Her body snuggled into the pillow, appreciating the cool air against her legs. After a few seconds, her hips wiggled against the pillow, perfectly grinding against her mound.

To him, that sight was impure. Everything he wanted to see and not see. He pulled himself up, going against his urges to not touch her body. And he doesn't. Yet.

He gulps, and covers her back up, silently wishing to himself that she wouldn't kick it back off. And she does, instantly when the sheets touched her arms. He leaned in to look at her, checking if she was awake or not. His hand touched her forehead, then cupped her face and slowly moved to her shoulder. He takes a deep breath, trying his best to control himself over his sleeping client. She looked so sexy lying there... The image of her body grinding against her pillow popped up in my mind. Replaying it over and over. Was she having a wet dream?

Before he could answer himself he was pulled down by her holding his arms. She gruntles in her sleep and tugs on his arm, he falls into her bed but he catches himself. As he falls her legs wrap around his waist, locking him in place. This is wrong. So wrong. But her body against his felt so good. He could feel her breast against his chest, her breath on his neck, her delicate hands on his waist, holding him.

He sighs giving in and wraps his arms around her curvy form. He covers the both of them up, only with the sheets not wanting her to get too warm. "There," he whispers, mostly for himself. This was not what he expected when he took this job- But, at the moment, he was not going to complain. His warm calloused hands roamed her back, his fingertips trailing the scars along her back. Gosh, he could kill that bitch that harmed his little Angel...Did he just say that? His angel? He didn't care- she was his.

She moans in her sleep, breathy and husky with sleep. Her hands tighten around his shirt, grasping it like she wanted him closer. Her hips now ground into his hips and he stilled. He stiffened, his body and his cock. He could feel the blood rushing to it, hardening under her warmth need rubbing against his dick. "Mitchie... Please," she moans, her breathy moan tickling his neck. The hair on the back of his neck raised, goosebumps littering his whole body.

He bit back a satisfied moan and looked down over her shoulder at her hips moving under the sheet. He shouldn't be allowing this. He shouldn't- He didn't care. He wanted this.

His hands fall to her hips, helping her grind against him. His pants were so tight, that every movement caused painful pleasure to strike through him. Like it was intruding every nerve of his body. His mind was blank besides the pleasure and her sinful-looking body.

His lips planted a kiss on her shoulder, testing the waters. She breathily moaned. So, he kissed again, this time on her neck. This time it emits a loud satisfied moan. So loud he thought it woke her up. But it didn't. He was glad that it didn't, he wanted to enjoy this moment more.

Her body shakes as she orgasms against him. He doesn't let her hips stop, forcing them to continue against his clothed-hardened dick. As she finishes, he holds her up by the back of her neck, slowly leaning her back to get a better view. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed. Her breasts were perky, and resting in front of his face. He leans in, giving one a kiss, his eyes watching her face so he would know if she was about to wake up. His tongue swirls around her hardened nipple, sucking softly as his lips closed around the areolae. His hands now massaged her hip softly, still going along with her movements. He was about to cum in his pants- He hasn't done that since he was a horny teenager. That was a full generation ago.

"Oh my gosh, angel- You feel so good," He moans softly. He couldn't help but praise her, even when she was unconscious. Her body seemed to react to the praise, her hips grinding harder. That was when he realized she was awake. He stammers, attempting to explain himself. But she cuts him off as she kisses his neck, licking and sucking the heated flesh.

"Tell me later," She moans, biting the area she just kissed. He groans hard at her teeth, never expecting her to be so harsh. He loved it.

"Fuck, Princess. You're going to give me a heart attack." He could hear his heart in his head, it was thumping, racing so loud. It almost vibrated his skull.

"You should have thought about earlier," She retorted with a click of her tongue. The click was loud like it was pulled off from the suction.

Y/n palmed his dick under her hips, grabbing it and massaging his length. He doubled over, his head resting on her shoulder. His left hand rested on the small of her back. "Do you want to continue you this, Mr. Rapp?" She asks sheepily. He nods into her shoulder, his right hand stopping hers. He lifts her with ease, placing her down once he stands.

"Since all you do is write... You should write this." He swiftly removed his belt with one hand, quickly maneuvering it around her hands as makeshift handcuffs. He tugged on it, checking if it was secure around her wrist. "Not too tight?" She asks, his eyes landing on her blown-out eyes. She nods, biting her lip with a small smirk.

That smirk was wiped off when he pulled her legs to the edge of the bed. His face was right in front of her mound. "Say you don't want this and I'll stop..." He leaves a few kisses on her inner thigh, slowly trailing to her covered pussy. Once he gets close he goes to the other thigh. "I swear I will." He looks into her eyes, giving her the most mind-numbing sight of the night. "Please let me have a taste, angel," He begged. He fucking need to. He wants to taste her juices. Even tasting her after they've finished. He hasn't eaten since dinner and that was almost 7 hours ago. He's starving for some desert.

She swore her heart stopped when he asked that. This was like straight out of a book... Gosh, when did Mitch get so hot? Her bonded hands attempt to pull her panties down but he smacks her hands lightly. "Let me," He growls, then begins pulling them down with his teeth. Once they were down at her thighs his hands removed them swiftly. Then they spread her apart, the flat of his tongue taking a long slow lick at her cunt. His tongue wiggles into her folds, collecting all of her release from earlier. He groans at it, the vibrations traveling to her clit. "I'm going to need more of this, angel," He murmurs before he continues lapping against her clit. "Taste' like honey." He then rises and pulls her into their first kiss. She groans, not expecting it to be like this. She did taste sweet, his tongue played with hers before he moved back down to play with her little button.

His hands rubbed up and down her thighs, as he ate her out. Her bound hands playing with his hair. The restriction of her hands pulled her breasts together, giving him the best sight ever. He was so hard it was begging to break free, already passed dripping precum.

"Mitch, please," she tried to breathe but her lungs were moving too fast. He got the hint, knowing well enough she was about to release on his face. And she does, she squirted all over his face; The liquid dripped from his face as he continues to tongue fuck her hole as his thumb rubbed her clit. She screams, letting her pleasure take over her form. Her body shakes, her thighs closing on his head like earmuffs.

After a bit, he pulls up and hungrily kisses her. But the kiss was slow somehow, wanting her to feel everything. Wanted her to taste her release more. He didn't want this quick. He wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He wanted a book, not a flimsy page.

His hands roamed her naked body, feeling all the imperfections that were viewed as perfections. It was like she was created by the gods. Hell, she was a goddess to him. He wanted to get on his knees in all different forms when he saw her file. He immediately asked to be her bodyguard. He wanted her to be his. He wanted to take her. And now, after just a few weeks he was able to.

"I need you, angel, I need you to say you're mine." Her hands fumbled with his pants, wanting to free his member. "Say it," he growled.

"I'm yours, Mr. Rapp!" she screams. He then flips her, her ass in the air. She didn't see him when she looked over her shoulder. But he felt her. He was lapping at her pussy again. Just when she thought he was going to eat her out again, she heard shuffling. He stripped himself of his boots first, the thumb being heard when he threw it near the lovesac he sat at earlier. Then quickly removing his clothes, he left his boxers on and pressed his hips against her. His clothed dick rested perfectly between her slit. "Do you feel that," He groans as he grabs her hips and pulls them to his. "Do you feel what you do to me?"

She wiggles her hips. "It's hard not to when your cock is pressed against my minge," She made sure she sounded sarcastic with her tone, wanting to make sure she was talking back.

He gave a dark chuckle as he kicked his boxers off. "I love it when you're bratty." His body leaned, pressing against her as he unbuckled his belt. He rubs her wrists, kissing them before separating them on each side. He held her hands down on the bed as his dick pressed against her entrance. "Do you want this? Do you want my cock to stretch you out?" She nods a yes, whimpering and pushing her hips back.

When it enters, it enters completely. He slowly moved inside her, not caring that the stretch was too much for her. It felt too good. For both of them. His thrust slowly became faster, fucking her with a medium rhythm.

Y/n's moans were all over the place, screaming then needy. Once he angles his cock to hit that delectable spot she was back to screaming. "That's right, dollface; Scream for me," he growls into her ear. He then plants a small kiss under her ear, telling her she is so good for him. "S'good; Taking your bodyguard's cock so well."

His trust get harder, now his hips were slapping her clit with each thrust. Her head shakes from side to side as the pleasure is too much. She wanted more.

Her body from her previous orgasms made her so sensitive. Especially her most recent one. But yet all she wanted was more. More pleasure against her craved sensitive body.

She could do was take his dick repeatedly. Her arms were pinned with one of his hands and the other held her hip to force it down and to stop it from squirming.

"My pretty angel, so pretty," he groans. He kisses her wet cheek. Somewhere along the way she had started crying from the amount of pleasure. This didn't stop him, only turned him on even more.

"Mitch," she gasps loudly. Her back arches due to the upcoming climax and she forcefully belches her orgasm around him. He chuckled darkly and slowed down her thrust to tease her and her eyes rolled back because it felt better for her.

He could sense his release appearing soon. "You want me to cum inside?" He wanted to go inside but her knew better to do that. Y/n shakes her head in a panic. He hums I'm response and kisses her cheek to reassure her. The rubber in his stomach then lets go in his stomach as he pulls out and cums all over her stomach. Some of his elixirs landed on her tits and he just doubles over and licks it off.

"Instead of spiders I think I might want to study this," she hums appreciatively pointing to his semi-hard length. He smirks. "Come here," she purrs. He obeys and leans down. Her hand grasps his cock and starts rubbing it as he hovered over her. She teases the tip, her finger gliding back and forth over the red needy bump. From time to time her finger would play along the slit and he would shudder as he tried to keep his eyes open to stare into her alluring eyes. "Doing s'good for me," she mocks playfully. "My Mr. Rapp is so handsome," she whispers. He shudders again and nods as his dick starts to twitch in her hand. "Love my bodyguard's cock, so fucking big," she moans before he cums again. He cums with a loud primal growl as his cum close and covers hers body once more.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien smut #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp x reader smut #mitch rapp #american assassin #bodyguard #Bodyguard!mitch rapp

[undercoverpena]

you don't learn

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader (COD MW22) 18+, minors do not interact. WC: 1.2k A/N: Be nice, this is the first time I wrote for this man and my s*m*u*t is never my strongsuit. masterlist for ghost.

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You don’t learn.

And you don't listen. Least of all to him.

That’s all he's thinking as he chases you down, his strides far longer than yours. Not that you’re accepting defeat. 

Because, of course, you aren’t. 

Today, you didn't do it in the field. Your eyes see something Soap didn't, charging forward, almost getting a bullet through your shoulder. You saved his life, yes. But, you also ignored him.

You broke his order. Making him almost lose his breath for a millisecond as he stills, watching a bullet rush past you.

Now, you had the audacity to be pissed at him.

Even if it was you who told him once you arrived back on base, in a hushed whisper, so no one else could hear, "It's okay to admit you were wrong, Lt." Before lunging out the vehicle, storming off.

So, now he followed for many reasons. One of which was because you couldn't have the last word.

Your boots hammer down the empty corridor with as much determination as him. Ghost’s gloved hand is almost within reach, his door approaching his left, so he widens his stride. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Ghost’s hand connects with your upper arm, gripping it with ease as he both turns you and opens his door, dragging you in before kicking it shut behind you both. 

Wrenching your arm free from him, eyes burning him as you step back. 

“You want to repeat that, soldier?” 

Your eyes scold him, or attempt too. Shaking your head, a fury of thoughts running through your head—he can tell. 

He can read you like a goddamn book. 

Which is how knows your palms will connect with his chest, brows knitted as you try to move him—even a centimetre. But he doesn’t. 

His frame remaining exactly as it was, swallowing, closing the gap as he captures your wrists in one hand. Something you clearly hate more than you expect from the look in your eyes.   

“Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“A brat?” you hiss. "I saved his fucking life. If anyone is being a brat, it is you."

"I'm warning you."

You lift your chin, straightening your spine. "Warn me then, Lt. Fucking warn me."

His spare gloved hand grips your waist, pulling you flush to him, causing you to squeak. Fingers spreading, digging down as you whimper, and he cocks his head.

You tried to blink it away, but he saw it.

He saw that you wanted this too. That the tension wasn't all in his fucking head. You felt it.

Testing his theory, he lets his thumb lifts the thin fabric of your T-shirt. And he feels you shudder, your eyes attempting to disguise how much your body is betraying you. 

Smirking, he drops his face closer, running the edge of his mask against your neck—scratching against you, making it known he’s there.

“Oh, I can warn you, princess. I can give you a fucking good lesson,” he says darkly, his hot breath dancing over your neck.

You try to shove him again, glaring more purposefully, finding him moving even less from where he stands. But, it's not as determined, he can tell. An act, a bad liar.

Ghost slides up his mask just enough to show you his smirk, that condescending smirk of his he knows you hate. The one you guess is there even in the field, even over the radio when you're not even close. 

“You know what, go fuck yourself, Ghost.” 

“Or,” he snaps, gripping your hip tighter, walking you back into the stone wall as you hiss, “I can fuck you.”

Your eyes blink, anger disappearing and he feels you shift. “W-what?” 

One quick glance, and he spots your legs firmly together, his smirk appearing more than it was before 

“Is that what you want, princess? Do you want me to fuck you?” 

You hold his gaze, eyes flicking briefly to his lips. 

“I think you do," he snarls, pulling your hips against his. "Use your words. That’s an order.” 

Swallowing, you jut out your chin. “Y-yes.” 

"Yes...?"

Your jaw tightens. "Yes, sir."

Fucking hell.

He’s quick. 

Hearing you gasp just as his lips capture yours, stealing the rest of your words. Lips sliding together, teeth close to lips as a hand roughly grabs your cheek, the one on your hip moving to undo your belt. 

All he focuses on is that you’ve stopped fighting and shoving, resting your fingers against his chin, sliding them up along his jaw as your kisses turn messier and more desperate.

“I shouldn’t—“

“If you know what’s good for you, princess, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” he utters, his deep voice vibrating through you as he pops the button open on your trousers. “I don’t want to hear another word outta you, you hear me?” His lips sliding up your jaw, breath dancing along your ear. “Not unless it’s because you’re begging or moaning my name.” 

Your eyes flick to his, and he hopes you see the warmth in them, the lust dancing in the darkness. 

“Which is Simon, if you didn' know.” 

His teeth bite his glove off before sliding his hand under your underwear, your whimper mixing with a breath as he smirks. 

“I know your goddamn name,” you bite, trying not to moan at his touch. 

Tilting his head, he tightens his jaw. 

“You want me to stop?” His fingers pausing, hearing you whimper, your eyes suddenly full of anger again. “I will if you don’t stop with the cheek.” 

You say nothing, swallowing your words. 

Ghost runs the tip of his nose along your cheek, the highest part of his face showing, before he feels you shake your head, and he presses a chaste kiss to the side of your lips. 

“Look at me,” he whispers, his finger descending until he’s sliding two inside you, feeling your slick walls tighten around him, “Now, soldier.” 

Your eyes are beautiful. 

The way your lips curl as he continues to pump them inside of you. 

“Fuck… You are something else, princess. Y'know that? Y'know how fucking perfect you are? 'Cause I don't think you do.”

"Simon..." you whimper.  

Your slick coating his fingers through his gloves as he continues to tease, hearing more whimpers, more moans. Your eyelashes flutter, his thumb capturing your clit periodically, hearing the hiss in your moan when he does. Your moans falling so quickly from your beautiful lips, feeling your walls tighten as you get closer and closer. 

His mouth latching onto your neck, sucking and nipping, leaving marks everyone—including you—will see. He feels how close you are, how much you’re still trying not to give in. 

So he wrenches his hand back. 

Smirking as your mouth parts, eyes digging into him.

His hand silences you as yanks your trousers down, letting them pool at your feet. You breath heavy, as does he.

“You want this?” 

Silence. 

Ghost pulls his glove from his hand with his teeth, staring, waiting. 

“Do you want this?” 

He adds your name at the end. Your real name.

No alias. No teasing nickname. No princess or anything.

Your eyes lower briefly before flicking them up to hold his gaze, a devious smirk on your face. “Yes, sir.” 

He removes his hands, sliding them up and around your thighs as be lifts you around his waist, twisting the two of you to seat himself on the end of the mattress. Your thin underwear and his cargo’s the only barrier between you and him, even as you grind your core against the tent of his trousers. 

A dark chuckle escapes his lips, his hand holding you in place on his thighs. “Poor, princess. So desperate for a fucking?”

You whimper, head burying into his shoulder. 

“What do you want?” Ghost asks, feeling your nails dig into the back of his exposed neck as he slowly rolls your hips against him. “Tell me. Now.” 

“Everything,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, eyes shimmering with need and want as they meet his. “I want you to fucking break me, ruin me, fuck me so I can’t even walk. That’s what I want.” His lips press against your cheek, jaw and ear as you talk. “Fuck… please can you just…” your hands coming around, gripping his mask-covered cheeks. “I need you to fuck me, Simon.” 

It takes a moment, just for his name to really register. 

His name from your lips.

It’s sinful. 

It’s fucking everything. 

Which is why he flips the two of you, pressing your chest and stomach down into his bed—smirking as you instinctively arch your back, the damp patch on your panties on show for him as he strokes his cock over his trousers.  

“Atta girl,” he says, undoing his belt with a crack, dropping his trousers and boxers to the floor with a thud. 

tag: @munsonownsmyass

#simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost smut #ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader smut

[infinitystoner]

Conrad tells you to get on your knees.

What’s he gonna do to you?

I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL MAN. (Also, this has nothing to do with the series I’m working on. Just a drabble. Enjoy!)

Misconduct

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader Word count: 788 Tags/Content: Bratty Behavior, Daddy Dom!Conrad, Smuttish

“What if your little ruse had backfired?” 

The evening’s arduous recovery mission had been a success, although the extraction of your target had not gone according to plan. Conrad’s plan, that is. 

In the heat of the moment, you’d implemented another course of action – admittedly a slightly more dangerous one – and, now that you’re back at the Saigon motel the two of you are currently operating out of, he’s finally letting his disappointment be known. 

And it is exhilarating. 

“They’re safe, James. Mission accomplished,” you reply nonchalantly, wrapping your arms around his waist as he shrugs off his holster. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

He huffs out an incredulous laugh, slowly walking the two of you back toward the bed – which is precisely where you want to be. 

“Oh, darling. You disobeyed a direct order out there. You expect me to just forget that?” 

There’s a hint of lingering frustration in his tone, and a rush of adrenaline surges through your body, your core throbbing in delightful anticipation of what’s to come. 

“Yes, of course,” you say before running your tongue along the expanse of his beautiful neck, relishing in the salty taste of his skin and hoping your eager nips are enough to distract him from the fact your hands are hastily unfastening his belt buckle. 

But it’s futile – Conrad immediately grasps your wrists, stopping your ministrations as he gives a gentle squeeze. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“I know I am.” 

Your continued taunts prompt him to change course, pulling you away from the bed and pressing you back against the nearest wall. You’re not sure if it’s his heartbeat you feel against your chest or your own fighting wildly within the confines of your ribcage. You stare up into his eyes – any remaining glimmer of playfulness is gone, replaced by unabated lust. 

“Why do you insist on being such a brat?” 

“You love it.” 

“That I do,” he muses, letting go of you. “But even brats must learn to follow the rules.” 

“Now,” he pauses, his tongue darting across his bottom lip before his gaze narrows. He’s thinking of a punishment befitting your misconduct, and your breath hitches at the obscenity of it all. “Over there, on your knees.” 

He motions to the foot of the bed, but you’re already following his command without hesitation.

“Any other requests, Captain?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder as Conrad snaps the belt from his hips in one fluid movement. 

“Eyes straight ahead, love. And hands behind your back.” 

Submitting to him like this comes to you as easy as breathing. It’s a partnership built on trust that works exceedingly well, both in and outside of the bedroom.  

But you broke a sacred rule tonight, and now you must atone. Pleasure roils inside you like the wicked waves of a tempest as Conrad crouches behind you, fingertips ghosting down the length of your arms before swiftly looping his belt around your wrists.  

When he’s done, he settles on the bed in front of you. Carefully, you test the strength of the leather binding, burning desire settling in your belly when you realize the knot is tighter than usual. 

“My fierce, curious girl,” he laughs. “Would you like to hear the rules?” 

Your brain short circuits with salacious possibility as the ache between your thighs intensifies, but you must make some sort of agreeable noise because Conrad smugly arches a brow as he rubs his palms along the top of his legs, observing you with a quiet wonder. 

“You will not move – or touch me – until I say so. Is that clear?” 

“Then what—”

“You’re going to watch.”

Conrad is certainly a sight to behold. The hazy light emitting from the bedside lamp creates a glowing aura around his godlike form, and shadows dance across the contours of his chiseled body as he widens his thighs. The way he commands the space, the confidence in his posture, the dominant energy filling what little space exists between you – it’s addictive. 

“James, please.” It’s desperate, but so are you. You’ll say anything – do anything – if it means you get to touch him. 

The subtle curve of his lips hints at a smile; he knows the power he wields over you. Conrad meticulously unbuttons his jeans, the two of you groaning in unison when he finally frees himself.  

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” he rasps, languidly stroking his cock. “I’m still going to make good use of that smart little mouth of yours.”

The confused expression on your face must intrigue him because he pauses his motions and leans down, his breath fanning over your heated skin as he whispers,  

“Tonight, you’re going to talk me through it.”

#james conrad x reader #james conrad smut #captain james conrad #james conrad x you #captain james conrad x reader #the brainrot is real

[hangmanssunnies]

Ask Me Anything, I'll Give You Everything

Summary: Every morning, you wake up and wonder if today will be the day? The day the love of your life breaks up with you. The only probable solution you can come up with is to force the issue. It seems like a simple plan; after all, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw has never made it a secret that he doesn't like brats.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 10k (phew, I'm sorry.)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Bradley is a consent king, BDSM dynamics, P in V, Aftercare, talking about feelings, Healthy Relationships, Communication, Daddy Kink but only a tiny bit, gratuitous use of pet names

Authors Note: No use of Y/N. Will I ever be able to write normal smut? Absolutely not. I have been working on this for weeks. I love Bradbrad so much y'all. I hope you enjoy this! My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them. Also, can we please talk about Miles’ hands in this gif ( am losing my mind)?

When you started dating Bradley Bradshaw, you knew he would be gone a lot. He had made that clear early on, so you could never claim it was a surprise. Bradley was also very aware of the realities of what his absences were like for you. It was because of that, that when he was home, he lived by a simple practice; he had to make sure that your relationship was perfect. He had (wanted) to make everything so amazing you would be able to get through whatever next stint you had to go without him present. 

You were perfectly independent when he was gone. However, when you got to be with him and were together, it was like you could finally relax. You could mention something in passing, and Bradley would ensure it gets done. Even better, more often than not, you didn't have to mention anything. Bradley took the initiative; he would just do things you needed without you saying anything, anticipating your needs.  

It was the little things with him. He broke open the crab shells and pulled out the meat for you when the legs were delivered to the table. Your favorite snack would start to run low, and it would be replaced the next time you checked. You couldn't remember the last time you went to Ulta; the bathroom's necessities, lotion, soaps, and moisturizer were always stocked. Bradley would bring home surprise flowers and make you dinner for no reason other than he wanted to. Love letters would show up in your mailbox or under your pillow. None of it was something you had to ask for. 

Bradley was romantic, funny, heartfelt, and genuine, indeed the best man you had ever met. However, something felt different in the last few weeks since he had been home. Bradley still went through all the motions, but you felt something off. It sometimes felt like he was just going through a routine, like there weren't the right emotions behind the actions anymore. 

Even with sex, something didn't feel quite right. While Bradley still made sure that you would always find satisfactory endings, he didn't hold you as long. The way he touched you just didn't feel the same or right. It worked under your skin and into the box of insecurities you kept in your chest. It was an insecurity that ran itself rampant. 

You were not a brat. You simply didn't label yourself that way when it came to your relationship. However, that was mostly because you had never needed to be a brat in your relationship before. You did what you were told, you were a good girl, and it was natural. It was easy because Bradley had always taken care of you. Rooster liked to take care of you. And you not wanting to brat was always fine and dandy because Bradley didn't like brats. That being said, you hadn't been feeling very taken care of lately.

It wasn't that you needed, or really wanted, Bradley to be perfect, but you did want to be taken care of. You had become so worked up about it that you were sensitive to every little thing Bradley did, analyzing it in your head. You had halfway convinced yourself that Bradley was staying with you out of obligation and that he was just waiting for the right time to break it off with you. 

Tonight you are at the bar with some of your friends. Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. It was a natural movement, something he has done hundreds of times. However, you slowly shift until his hand falls off your waistline. He didn't notice at first until a song or two passed. Then there is that weight again. You clench your teeth, trying to not let any frustration show on your face. 

You firmly grip Bradley's wrist, feeling his arm muscles flex tighter under your fingers. The touch makes him angle his head down to look at you. 

"Baby?" He poses it as a soft question, but it just irks you more. How dare he call you any pet names right now? His fingers dug just the slightest bit into your skin. 

"Don't touch me," you mutter angrily, pulling harder on Bradley's hand. His face is so full of hurt and confusion enough that you almost feel bad for your actions. His arm immediately moves away, and he even went as far as taking a step away from you. 

You could tell he was reeling. Your eyes watch as he makes an excuse to the group, none the wiser of the moment that just passed between you. He goes to the bar and waits next to it. Your eyes drift to him occasionally. You catch him taking a tequila shot, something somewhat out of character for him. He liked to stick to old fashions and beers. And his eyes still haven't strayed from you. 

Even as he made his way back to y'all's group from the bar. Bradley's sunglasses once again covering his eyes, like it was the middle of the day on the beach, even though it was the middle of the night in a bar. You feel the weight of his gaze, though, constantly straying to you. 

Two hours later, everyone makes their way out of the bar, calling their various Uber's and rides home. 

Neither of you had drunk much tonight, and after his shot, the only thing you saw Brad drink was water while you sipped a seltzer. You find the Bronco's keys in your purse and start to make your way towards the driver's side. However, Bradley beats you there, leaning against the door. Brad opens his palm, facing up, looking at you expectantly. 

"Keys?"

"I'll drive home," you tell him, closing your hands tighter around the keys. 

"No, I'm going to be driving home," He says, not moving in the slightest, still waiting for his keys. 

You clench your jaw in annoyance and narrow your eyes. "I didn't do any shots tonight. So, I will drive home." 

"I did one shot, had two beers, not even IPAs, and then only drank water. You had several hard seltzers and no water or food. We both know I have a higher tolerance for alcohol, baby," He explains to you. He isn't condescending about it either, just stating it all like facts. One of his eyebrows raised high at your attitude.

"I'm driving," you say again, a harder edge in your voice. 

Bradley stands up to his full height until he is glaring down at you, "I will be driving home, or we are taking an Uber. Your pick, princess." 

You are so tempted to pull out your phone and order an Uber for the both of you. However, after staring into Bradley's eyes and seeing their absolute clarity, you relent, dropping the key in his waiting palm.  

You start walking to the car's passenger side, and Bradley shadows you there. He never touches you, but you can feel his warmth radiating off of him, inches from yourself. He opens the door for you and holds out a hand, offering to help you into the Bronco. 

You ignore his offered hand, pulling yourself up into the seat by yourself. Not even looking at Bradley as he pulls your seat belt and hands it to you to buckle up. He didn't move from his spot until he heard the click of the belt. He waits for the kiss you usually press to his lips or cheek after getting in the car. He must have noticed that it wasn't coming because he was closing the door a few moments later and making his way back to the driver's side.  

You watch Bradley walk in front of the hood of the car. He pulls his hand through that sandy brown hair so it is all askew. You don't shift your gaze from looking forward when he rounds the edge of the hood. You are tempted to look, though, when he takes an abnormally long time before he opens the door and slides into the driver's seat.  

The silence in the cab is reverberating between you. Bradley reaches to adjust the volume on the radio at the exact moment you do. Your hands almost brush, but he quickly jerks his hand back before it touches yours. It seems he is taking your words to heart about not touching you. 

"Are you feeling okay, princess?" His deep voice asks you. 

And there is the obvious answer, that you are not okay. That everything in you is screaming a little bit. How you feel like Bradley is days away from leaving you, not just to fly his planes. That he doesn't love you anymore, that you are too much work to take care of, that he will ask you to leave. 

And it must be taxing. It must be a lot of work for someone like him to have to take care of you, with all of his own problems. Shouldn't you step up and take better care of him so that he doesn't ask you to go? Take care of him by driving home from the bar or not bothering him with your problems when you are burning for some of his attention. But you feel like you are on thin ice already. Telling him you aren't okay is too high of a risk when it could just push him further away from you. 

"I'm fine."

His fingers drum against the steering wheel at your response. You take a moment to study his side profile. Bradley is visibly agitated. He has a look of concentration on his face like a complex problem is laid out before him. 

"Since when do you lie to me?" Bradley asks you. 

"I'm not lying to you! I'm fine."

"Okay, then hold my hand." He pronounces the words slowly and clearly, before presenting his right hand. His thick, calloused fingers are spread slightly, waiting. 

"No." You snap your eyes away from him and his hand, back to the road in front of you. 

"Hold my hand," Bradley repeats, his voice dropping even lower. It's a tone you know; this isn't a request but a demand. 

"You can't make me," You stubbornly say back to him. 

Bradley audibly gasps. You haven't ever dared challenge him like that before. 

"You aren't being a very good girl right now, princess." 

"Maybe I'm not. Maybe you don't deserve a good girl right now." The words fall out of your mouth before you know what you're saying. 

"I don't like brats, baby," 

"Oh, good to know you don't like me," you say, heart clenching in your chest. It was a sort of a setup, but right now, it seemed like an undeniable reality that Bradley didn't like you anymore. 

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth like that," Bradley's voice has a thinly veiled fury that you have never heard before. It causes gooseflesh to erupt along your skin. 

"That is what you said!" Part of you stinging. What you really wanted from him right now was reassurances. Instead, you feel the only option is to keep pushing the point. 

"So you are being a brat on purpose." He muses. The anger is a little less present in his voice but still there.  

"Why?" He asks you when you don't say anything. You cross your arms over your chest and chew on your lip, bouncing your leg. 

"I asked you a question." He reminds you. Then he rephrases the question for you. "Why are you being a bad girl, princess?" 

"You don't deserve a good girl," you remind him as if there is an important distinction. 

"I see," he says slowly. "And why don't I deserve a good girl?"

The words you want to say die on your tongue about how he hasn't been taking care of you. That you feel like maybe you aren't enough for him. That if you were enough, he would take care of you like he used to. It's some fragile emotion in you, one you don't entirely know how to voice. 

The why plagues you. You suddenly realize that Bradley does deserve a good girl. You just can't be that person. This isn't even a him problem. It's a you problem that you are trying to make him fix. It isn't his responsibility to fix, though. 

"You do deserve a good girl Bradley. That someone just isn't me," you finally say. 

"What the fuck does that mean?" The anger is back again. 

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

"Well, it's not. So, how about you spell it out for me?"

If you try to explain anything to him right now, you will burst into tears, so you bite your tongue instead. Silently begging for the drive and this conversation to end. You are only a few blocks away from your home. 

You hear Bradley take a deep, measured breath and your eyes snap to him again. Even in the dark of the cab, you can see the light flush up his neck and face that he gets when he is angry, making his scars stand out more prominently. 

You are unbuckling your seat belt before Rooster fully parks the car in the driveway. 

"Do not get out of this car until we finish this conversation," Bradley warns you in that same low voice. 

You are not listening, though, and isn't that the whole point of being a brat? The door is popped open seconds after his warning. You make a mad dash towards the front door. 

You hear the Bronco's door slamming and Bradley growling out your name behind you. 

You have only just passed the entryway threshold when he catches up with you. His frame seems extra tall and intimidating when he looms over you like this. 

"So you don't want to have a conversation, and you don't want to listen. Is that right, princess?"

He still respects your wish to not be touched, but his hands are on either side of your head. He has you caged against the entry hallway. Nowhere is his body brushing yours, but the heat radiating off him almost feels like he is. The smell of his cologne wafts around you. You are so surrounded by him that it's hard for you to remember that he asked another question. Finally, you shake your head slowly.

"If you keep acting like a brat and don't use your words, I'm going to treat you like a brat." Bradley is telling you this as a warning. His words light something in you, though, and you push roughly against his chest, trying to get him away from you. 

"I'm not in the mood, Bradley." You growl out. You duck under one of his arms, needing space to think and breath.

"You don't get to not be in the mood," Bradley growls back. That has you rounding back at him, fury filling you.

"I don't get to say no?" You ask. Your voice is equally as upset as his. He seems to calm down a bit at your words. You watch him take a deep breath, following the motions of his inhale and a heavy audible sigh on the exhale. 

"Of course, you can. I am not a fan of how you are twisting my words tonight. I meant it as. You don't get to say no to talking to me." His eyes don't stray from yours, and you see the concern in their depths. 

"I deserve to know why you are not fine, and you are acting like a brat." 

There was the phrasing again, deserve. It rubbed you all the wrong ways, and you set your stance, bringing yourself up to your full height, glaring into Bradley's eyes. 

"If you don't want me, and can't handle me as a brat, maybe you just aren't cut out to be my Dom, Brad."

What was that TikTok sound that was popular for a while? Something about how people who can raise a single eyebrow are automatically brat tamers. The moment you saw the eyebrow raise Bradley is giving you. You knew you were fucked. 

"You have two choices: go to our room and lock the door, and I will see you in the morning. Or you better be naked and on our bed by the time I make my way to our room, princess. If I find you any other way, you will be in more trouble than you already are."

He grabs the purse that dropped to the ground without you even noticing. Then Bradley hangs it on the proper hook before he digs in his pocket, pulling out his keys and wallet. He glances at you and once again raises that eyebrow. 

"You want to go to bed willingly before I make you." You are speed walking through the house to the master bedroom moments later. 

You strip mostly naked before perching on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. Only leaving on your panties. 

Bradley takes his sweet time getting to you. You hear him walking throughout the house: in the laundry room, swapping loads of laundry, and briefly in the kitchen, the fridge opening and closing. 

When he finally gets to the bedroom, he doesn’t even acknowledge you at first. You lift your eyes, watching him set a tumbler of water on your side of the bed. Then making his way to his side and putting down his own water bottle he liked to take to bed. 

You quickly lower your eyes when you see him glance towards where you are sitting. Bradley is standing in front of you a second later.  

“Are you going to let me touch you now, baby?” He asks you playfully, teasingly. 

You think about it for a moment, and you are surprised that he is patiently waiting for your answer. Finally, you nod slowly. Bradley’s hand lifts your chin, so you look up at him. His touch is surprisingly gentle and light. 

“Use your words. I have heard this mouth throw around all kinds of things tonight. I think you can manage a yes or no.” He squeezes your chin in between his fingers, then just slightly. 

“Yes.” You whisper.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can touch me.”

His hand slips lower and wraps around your throat. It’s a loose hold but serves as an anchor point. Your breath catches when he gives your throat the tiniest squeeze. More a twitch of his hand than anything else. 

With his hand directing you, he pushes you back until you are arching and angled to still hold eye contact. He holds you there for a long moment, his eyes tracing your face, then lower to take in your whole body. 

He lets go of your neck, and without his steady hand, you find yourself falling back on the bed. Brad doesn’t make any move after that. He just stares down at you, taking you in. 

“What am I going to do with you, princess?” He finally asks you in that rough voice. 

“I think you need a reminder of why you should be a good girl for me. And why you don’t want to be a brat.” His fingers ghosted over your thighs in a slow motion. Then, when they reach your hip, they drag back down to your knees again. 

“But,” he continues on, dragging out the word. “You are just so damn pretty almost makes me want to forgive you.” When his hands reach your hips for the second time, he grips them and flips you over. 

You gasp in surprise at the action with your face and belly pressed into the bed. You try to lift yourself further up, but one of Bradley’s hands is pressing down on your back. 

“Brats get punished, baby. Is that what you want from me? To punish you?” He asks you. You slowly shake your head no into the mattress but don’t say anything otherwise.

Bradley tsks at you, and in the same breath, the hand that wasn’t holding you down smacks your ass. It isn’t the hardest Bradley has ever spanked you, but it was hard for the first one. It makes your skin instantly sting, and your whole body jolts forward.  

You flex your legs that are still hanging off the side of the bed, trying to find purchase on the ground. 

One of the many beautiful things about Bradley Bradshaw was that he could manhandle you any which way as if you were no more than a rag doll. It is something you never really had the experience of with any partner before him. Bradley repositions you so you are sprawled in his lap over his thighs. 

He is still fully dressed from the bar. Your knees are pressed into the ground, and your ass is on display. 

He gently rubs where he has already smacked you. You stare down at the ground in front of you, examining the grain in the hardwood floor. Bradley’s hand comes down and smacks your ass again. You groan in response. 

“How are you doing, baby?” He asks you, rubbing soothing circles again. His hand feels cool against the skin that is already inflamed. 

You continue refusing to answer him though, preferring to take whatever punishment he will give you in silence. Bradley’s hand comes down hard a moment later, the slap it makes against your skin echoing in the room. 

“Not talking to me is not an option. I thought we already established that,” Rooster growls out. 

You receive retribution with another spank when you keep your mouth closed tight. You can’t help but let out the barest of whimpers after that one. 

“What was that, baby?” He asks you, his tone soft again.  

“How many?” You whisper. You half expect another spank at the action and tense your body waiting for the impact. Instead, Bradly stays steady, rubbing your cheeks. His other hand comes forward to push your hair behind your ear, so he has a better view of your face.

“How many do you think you deserve, princess?” 

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

He hums, looking down the bridge of his nose at you while deliberating. 

“How many have you had already?” he asks. 

Hesitantly, you raise your hand and show him four fingers. You immediately receive another spank. This time lower on your cheek cresting the back top of your thighs. It is significantly softer than the other ones you have received tonight.  

“This is your last warning, baby. I won’t ask you to use your words again.” 

You take a few shallow breaths, trying to even out your body that is going haywire. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Bradley nods his head, approving your words. 

“How many are you at, baby?”

“Five,” you supply, still unable to get out more than a whisper. 

“And how many do you think you deserve? How many does my little brat need to learn her place?”

“I don’t know.”

Bradley sighs at your response like he has some great burden. 

“That’s not up to bratty princesses to decide, is it?”

“No, Sir,” you whimper back. 

“No,” he agrees. “That’s for me to decide. I get to decide because I’m in charge.” He punctuates the sentence with a spank.

“I am your Dom, Princess.” Spank. 

“If you want to be a brat or a baby, then I am your Daddy,” He gives you another spank, so hard this time that you jolt forward, sighing an odd mix between a whimper and hiss. 

“But any way you want to look at it, any way you behave. You are mine.” Spank. 

“Do you understand?” Bradley asks you slowly. His hand that is pressed into the center of your back drifts down lower, tracing soothing circles. 

“Yes. I understand.” 

“Good,” he whispers and spanks you again. 

You do whimper this time, loudly. You let one of your hands grip the edge of the Hawaiian shirt Rooster is still is wearing, working it in-between your fingers. 

“How many was that?”

“Ten,” you tell him shakily. 

“Five more.” He says then. 

“Five?” You gasp, clutching the fabric in your hands tighter. You turn to look at him, abandoning the floor in front of you. 

“Yes, because I told you to be naked. And you still have these lacy little panties on. Don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I forgot them.”

“No, you are smarter than to forget something like that. Aren’t you, baby?” He coos the question to you. “You were choosing to be bratty.”

Rooster's eyes are more black than any other color with how wide his pupils are blown. That flush of anger, more lust than anything now, staining his skin. His eyes meet yours, and his tongue darts to wet his lips, dragging a little on his mustache. You break eye contact with him and stare at the floor again, ready to accept the punishment. 

“I want you to count them.” He tells you 

Smack, your ass stings again, but it’s mainly from the flesh already being abused. “Eleven.”

Smack. It is intentional, you know; these blows are significantly less painful than the previous ones.

“Twelve,” you choke out. 

Thirteen and fourteen come in rapid succession. You almost aren’t able to get the numbers out in-between. 

“Only one more princess, you are taking it so well. Can you do one more?” He asks you. 

“Yes,” you confirm. 

When Bradley smacks your ass for the final time, you gasp and clench your thighs together. 

He leaves you there for a moment to calm down, but it’s not long until he pulls you back up and stares at your face, searching. 

“You took that like a very good girl,” he praises you. 

He leans forward, ready to ghost his lips over yours. However, you are still too raw and in your head. So, you turn your face just enough to the side that Bradley’s lips catch the edge of your mouth instead. 

He pulls back from you and narrows his eyes. You only blink back, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. He leans in to kiss you again, and you once again turn away. A rumble of displeasure falls from his chest at your actions. 

“You still haven’t learned your lesson, baby?” Bradley questions you. 

Bradley pushes you down onto your knees, then. He starts to shrug off his Hawaiian over shirt, but you risk raising from your knees to stop him. 

You lean into his space and ghost your lips over the edge of one of his ears. Even with you standing and him sitting on the edge of the bed, he feels so tall. Your hands trace over his arms and down his chest slightly to catch the shirt’s open edge and push it back off his shoulders.

Maybe there were ways you could take care of Bradley, too, at least in the bedroom. 

You drag your hands down his chest to start lifting his wife beater, and you briefly let your nails run along his abs and shoulders. As soon as it pulls free, you throw it away from the bed, vaguely in the direction of the laundry hamper. 

Bradley is watching you with wide eyes, his mouth just slightly ajar. You graze your lower lip with your teeth, feasting on the sight of him shirtless. 

“So handsome,” you utter. You are rewarded for the compliment with the small pleased smile that splits his face. 

It inspires you to lean forward, kissing the scar on his chin, then the ones on his neck. Lower you nibble in random places and trace the lines of his chest with your tongue. 

“Do not tease me,” he growls at you. 

So, you shift back on your heels for him. Then audibly whining as your still raw skin makes contact with your calves. You bounce forward, so you are more upright, the weight more on your knees than on your ass and calves.

Bradley unbuckles his pants, and you help pull them down his legs. Your hands get lost along the way again, tracing his muscular thighs. You circle his knee caps slowly before shoving the jeans and boxers out of the way. Tracing back up his calves to pull off the graphic socks with little roosters and planes on them, a gift from his last birthday.

And there is Bradley’s hard cock; he is the perfect size. You simply admire him for a moment as he situates himself on the edge of the bed again.

“Maybe your mouth will want to do more talking once I fuck it.” Bradley muses out loud. He is cupping your jaw, lifting your eyes to look at him instead of his cock.

His thick thumb presses to your lips, and you open your mouth for it. Sucking on it, your tongue tracing the pad of the digit.

Bradley groans and withdraws his thumb. You don’t let it go easily, though, sucking harder as he tries to retreat and just barely grazing it with your teeth. He cups the side of your head to steady you then.

You lean forward, kitty licking the tip of his dick. Lapping it a few times, you are tempted to continue on the teasing path. As you start to consider it, though, Bradley’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, pressing you forward the tiniest bit. It reminds you that this was supposed to be a punishment.

You open your mouth more, taking him into your mouth.

Bradley groans and you wrap one hand tight around his ankle, grounding yourself. Your other hand settles on his thigh. He lets you start at your own pace, slowly sliding more of him into your mouth. You build a rhythm, relaxing your throat. When he reaches the back of your throat, you start to pull back, but Bradley lightly bucks his hips forward as you do.

You can’t help but gag slightly since you aren’t prepared for it. You instinctually try and draw back and are stopped. Bradley’s hand threads into your hair, giving it a tug. That makes a moan vibrate in your throat. Your moan reverberates right through him, ringing up his spine until it’s echoed out of his own mouth.

He holds you there in place, mouth full, not moving and not letting you move either. So you wait, anticipation sitting in your stomach. He is heavy and hot in your mouth as you wait.

You lift your eyes to meet his. Bradley’s eyes are molten, and his jaw is set. When your gazes meet, and he raises that same eyebrow again. As he smirks down at you, he shifts his hips in a small movement. The thrusts get longer until he is fucking into your mouth.

He keeps up until he has a steady rhythm. Your jaw starts to ache slightly, and not for the first time, you curse Bradley’s stamina and sex drive. Of course, there were many explanations for it: being a pilot, his diet, being a sex god, genetics, how often he fucks you, just because he was Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. Whatever the explanation, it doesn’t matter as he abuses your mouth.

You finally start to see signs that tell you he is close. The way his thighs start to quiver a little more than normal. How he is just a little too far gone to have consistency in how hard he is pulling your hair; almost slack for one thrust, and then your roots are stinging a thrust or two later.

You trace the hand you have on his thigh, gliding it over his fine leg hair until you’re cupping his balls.

“Fuck,” he hisses into the air, and you flash your eyes upward again to try and glance at his face. His eyes are squeezed closed, and a bead of sweat is sliding down his neck.

You gently start to massage his balls and squeeze your hand still wrapped around his ankle tightly. Dirty praise falls from his mouth.

“My little bratty slut.” He tells you, hitting the back of your throat and drawing back again.

“Are you going to be good? Can you take it all?” Bradley asks you, his voice low and ragged, broken up slightly by panting.

You moan in your throat and squeeze his ankle tight in a way of telling him yes. When he next hits the back of your throat, he pushes further, drawing you down to the base of his dick. Then, moaning loudly, he cums down your throat. You swallow it down in gulps, well acquainted with the taste.

“So good, princess.” He tells you, pulling out of your mouth. You open and close your jaw a few times before resting your head on Bradley’s thigh. His fingers pull through your hair, working through the knots he finds and massaging your scalp.

“So good,” you repeat back to him, turning your head enough to mouth a soft kiss against his leg and close your eyes for a minute.

“How are you doing, princess?” He asks, checking in with you. You hum contently at first while you decide.

“I’m wet.” You decide to tell him.

“Show me how wet, princess,” He responds. His hands grip your arms, helping pull you up into the bed, and getting you situated in the middle.

You reach out and adjust the pillows to your liking before leaning back against them. Bradley opens your legs and traces his thumb across the seam of your panties. You roll your hips forward into his thumb when he starts tracing your clit. Then he pulls them off you, exposing your pussy to him.

He brings your panties up to his nose, inhaling deeply, before throwing them over his shoulder. The sight makes you moan and clench around nothing. Bradley leans forward, and you finally allow him to kiss you.

His lips move slowly against yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting himself there. You wrap one of your legs against Bradley’s hip, trying to urge him close to you. However, he reaches to the side of the bed and starts rummaging.

You break the kiss to see what he is reaching for. When his hand emerges with a vibrator. He pressed it in between your thighs. You jerk, The toy feeling cold against your heated skin.

He leaves it there while drawing you into another kiss. Bradley’s teeth sink into your lower lip, making you inhale through your nose sharply. He clicks the power button, and the vibrator comes alive on the lowest setting.

The room fills with the sound of muffled buzzing, kissing, and the breaths you manage to steal. While you sloppily make out, Bradley doesn’t move or adjust the vibrator once.

Giving you a hard kiss Bradley pulls away, trailing kisses down your neck. He sucks hard on your collarbone, biting it to solidify the hickey. His mustache only tickles a little bit going down your chest, where he latches onto one of your nipples.

He moves the vibrator so that it is pressed against your clit. You sigh at the stimulation and grip the sheets on either side of you in each hand. Next, Bradley moves to your other nipple, nibbling at it.

He eventually pulls away from you, leaning back, turning up the vibrator to a higher setting, and working it against you. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Bradley says, eyes trained on the motion of the toy.

"Please, Brad," you beg him, grinding your hips into the toy. 

"Brad?" He pulls the toy away from you, and you groan at the loss. 

"Sir," you correct yourself. Bradley rewards you by allowing the vibrator to touch you again but doesn't put any pressure on it. Heat is burning at your core, and you feel raw want for him seeping out of yourself. You toss your head back in frustration with him. 

"Sir, please," you beg again, but don't get results this time. 

"Sir," you pant out when Bradley's hand holds your hips still, forcing you to just endure his teasing. 

"I need you, Daddy," You say next, and that does inspire something in him. He smirks and squeezes your hips.

"Pretty words, princess. Tell Daddy what you need."

And fuck, what didn't you need from Bradley Bradshaw? You need everything from him. You need his cock inside you. You need his body sweaty and sticky against yours. You need to have bruises in the shape of his mouth and fingers tomorrow. You need him to fuck your brains out. You need him to hold you and love you. You need him to make you his. 

You whine, not sure how to put it into words. Bradley always knew what you wanted and needed from him, so now that he wanted you to say it, you weren't sure what to actually ask for. 

"Fuck me," you tell him. Bradley pushes the vibrator into you then, and you clench around the intrusion. He slowly starts pumping it into you, but it isn't enough. 

"Like this?" He sweetly asks you. 

The vibrations from the toy radiate through your cunt, making you cry out. Bradley makes sure to angle it just right, and when your moans get a little too much, he starts to pull it out of you. Then repeating the maddening process over again. Finally, you dig your nails into the forearm holding the vibrator. 

"No, please. You know what I need." You tell him, sticking out your lip and meeting his eyes with your own, giving him a pleading look. 

"That's right," he nods to your words. "I do know what you need, baby. You need me to pound the brat out of your pussy too," he declares. 

He pulls the toy out of you, turning it off and setting it to the side. He lines you up with his cock. Bradley pushes into you slowly, then not stopping the motion until you are stretched around him, groins pressing flush together. 

He splays his hand wide across on your lower belly, pressing down, which makes you clench around him. You drop a knee to the side and wrap the other leg around his waist. Bradley uses the additional room you provide him to push himself deeper into you. 

"You are so tight," he moans. He angles his thumb so that it presses against your clit. Bradley swirls it in a slow circle while pulling his cock out of you at almost the same pace. You feel like you might lose your mind at this rate. 

"You fill me up so good," you groan out. 

"You like it when I touch you, baby?" He asks you.

"Yes," you pant out in quick response. You hope it will get him to touch you more. Bradley doesn't disappoint. He starts to mouth at your skin and speeds up his rhythm. 

"Don't forget it," Bradley tells you, following the statement with a hard bite. 

He fucks you harder until you are both dripping with sweat. Your hips are canting up, meeting his every thrust. You feel the muscles in your legs and abdomen quivering right on the edge, waiting to come. 

Then, the blunt edge of his nail catches your clit where he is rubbing you. The gentle scrape is enough to send you creeping over the edge and coming. You spasm around Bradley, gasping, a moan catching and breaking in the back of your throat.  

He keeps fucking you but slows down to short deep thrusts until you are less blissed out. You focus your gaze on him, admiring the concentration set in his features. The heavy weight of his body pressing into yours. 

You smash your mouth against Bradley's. You thread a hand into his short curls pulling him as close to you as you can. His thumb retreats from touching your clit, but he is still balls deep in you. 

The kissing starts to get dirtier. His tongue teasing yours, dominating your mouth. You are still sensitive from your orgasm and actually, pull your hips back from his so he isn't pressed so deeply in you. Bradley follows your lead and pulls even further out, so just the head of his dick is inside you. 

When your mouths separate for breath, you pant into his mouth, only centimeters apart. You flick your tongue out, licking your bottom lip and letting it graze against the texture of his mustache and plush upper lip. Moans spill from his throat, making you feel a little proud of what you have accomplished. 

You feel the burn inside you growing again, already so much closer after the last orgasm. Bradley's cock remains shallow, thrusting into you at a leisurely pace like he is in no hurry to do anything else. 

"I thought you were going to fuck me with your fat cock, Sir," you whine to him. His rhythm stutters, and he comes to a grinding halt in you. Bradley's eyes snap open. He is clearly shocked to hear your little taunt. 

He pulls out of you entirely, making you whimper at the loss. He flips you on your belly again, pulling your hips up to meet his. He slides back into you in a long hard stroke. Bradley presses you firmly into the bed, the side of your face smashing into the pillows. 

"Take it then," Bradley says, not relenting for even a moment to speak the words. At this angle, the head of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix. It punches the breath out of you each time.

Your legs are shaking, and you rut against him. You are desperate with the build up of your second orgasm, but it feels too far out of reach. You whine and resist the hold of his hand, pinning you down. That prompts him to push you harder into the mattress. 

"Just like that, princess," He moans loudly for you, his pace faltering just slightly, letting you know he is close. You are close too. You feel like you are on fire. Your skin feels like it's attached to you too tight. 

"Need more, need you," you beg him. Bradley listens. He doesn't go faster, but he thrusts into you harder. Each snap of his hips brings you closer to ecstasy. Wrapping his hand around your throat, he pulls you back against his chest. 

Bradley is the only thing you can process now. How his chest feels with its quick rise and falls against your back. How his large hand grips your throat, a steady, reassuring hold. How hot his breath is against your ear in short puffs and grunts. The way his hips grind into yours with a slight twist every time he bottoms out. How his other hand grips your waist hard, fingertips pressed into you, making indented flesh, like you might slip away from him. 

"How's that, princess?" He asks. 

"So good, you're so good." You chant for him as much as you can with your oxygen restricted. Desperate for something to grip, you dig your nails into the side of his thigh. 

Bradley groans, lowering his head where he bites into your shoulder. The tinge of pain and how he snaps his hips is all it takes. You are falling over the edge again. The tension wound tight in your core, flooding out of you and into your body.

Bradley spills into you a few thrusts later. Your body still shaking and your walls still occasionally fluttering around him in you. He rolls his hips into you a few more times and relaxes the tight hold he had on your hips and neck. He is praising you and pressing soft open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach. 

He gently pulls out of you. It's an immediately empty feeling that your body wasn't prepared for after spending so much time stuffed full of him. You collapse forward into the mattress again with jelly legs. You are exhausted. 

Bradley gives you water that he brought earlier. He presses yet another gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up from the bed. You hear him mutter something, but your brain is too fried to process it. 

The moment Bradley is out of the room, though, you start to panic. The emotions rise from deep in your chest and feel like they are going to strangle you, making it hard to breathe. 

You take a few shaky breaths before all of it bubbles to a boil, and tears stream down your face. Then, it only takes a few more breaths before they become full on sobs wracking your whole body. 

You wrap your arms around yourself and hiccup, trying desperately to stop the tears and the emotions flooding your system, but nothing seems to be working. 

You had only been crying a minute or two before Bradley was back in the doorway. Seeing the state you are in, he rushes over to your side, tossing the pajamas, towels, and sheets he had stacked in his arms to the side. 

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks you. His voice is steady and slow, still raw from moaning your name. Bradley does so well in situations like this; he always keeps a level head. A source of steadiness and care. You briefly start to consider if that's one of the reasons he is such a fantastic pilot. 

Bradley repeats the question to you, and you flinch. Not a small flinch but a whole body flinch, expecting another spank to be delivered. It doesn't come; there is only Bradley, slowly rubbing your arms in an up and down motion trying to soothe you. He is making small shushing noises. 

You shift closer to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck and cling to him tight. You were almost in a fetal position with your legs pressed close to your chest. Bradley was quick on the uptake. He shifts, so he is leaning back against y'all's headboard. 

His arms wrap around your naked body, holding you close to his chest. 

"Tighter, please," you finally managed to request. Your fingers dig just a little bit into the skin of his neck. Bradley instantly flexes his arms, squeezing you a little tighter and a little closer to him. 

"Take your breaths with me, baby." You hear him mutter, but you can't do it. The sobs wracking your body are still too much. 

At least this time, you don't flinch waiting for punishment when you can't follow directions. Bradley starts to rock you back and forth, still making soothing noises, reminding you to breathe or following his own deep breaths. 

"I can't," you finally manage to gasp out between sobs. One of Bradley's arms unwraps from you to cradle your head, his thumb tracing smooth lines over your jaw and occasionally sweeping down your neck. 

"I got you, princess," he says, and you know it's true. 

You adjust your grip on him so that your arms wrap around his narrow waist, and you press your face almost harshly into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. You just breathe him in then, finally feeling some of the panic that had a vice grip on your throat release. The heavy feeling in your chest eases, allowing you to take deeper breaths. 

After too much effort, you can finally match his breathing. The moment you start to praise fills your ears from the deep rumble in his chest. 

"That's it, baby. You are so good for me." You process what he is saying, and the tears streaming down your face subside until they are only occasional, not constant. 

"Bradley," you whisper, mouthing the words into his neck more than anything else. 

"Yes, baby? What do you need?"

"Do you love me?"

"Of course," his answer is instantaneous, without doubt, or hesitancy. 

"Am I not good to you?" You ask him, closing your eyes and pressing your face into his neck again, unwilling to see any kind of reaction he might have to your words. 

"You are good to me, princess," he reassures you, but you feel the muscles in his arms tense where he is holding you.  

"Is this because I called you a brat?" He asks. 

"I didn't mean to be a brat." You defend yourself slightly. You release one of the arms holding him to you desperately and instead bring it closer so that you can trace the scars littering his neck and chest within reach for you. 

"I know you didn't mean to be a brat."

"I know you don't like brats."

"I don't," he agrees. "But I love you, so it's okay." 

More tears leak out of your eyes hearing him say that, and you have to suck in another ragged deep breath so you don't sob again. 

"If you love me, and I'm good to you. Then why don't you like taking care of me anymore?" You finally manage to push out. The motive behind all your actions and your insecurities is laid out in-between you. 

The words sit there in the tiny space you've left between you. They taste like when you forget to brush your teeth after going out drinking, sitting sour heavy in your mouth. You cringe at how they almost sound like an accusation against Bradley, against the most amazing man you have ever met. You instantly want to take them back, wishing you had kept them inside, put them into the lock box, and left them there. 

It's Bradley's breath that catches this time. You hear it as much as you feel it under you. His muscles freeze under and around you. You wait. Wait for his exhale. Wait for his muscles to relax, for him to unwind, and reassurances and excuses to follow. 

You are waiting too long. Bradley is completely frozen. You resist his hold on you, only willing and able to move away far enough from his grasp to scan his face. He is looking forward towards the far wall of your room. His eyes dart back and forth rapidly like he is reading a document. 

"Bradley?" His name inspires a reaction, which is somewhat of a comfort. He sucks in a few rapid breaths. His gaze flashes down to meet yours, and you are briefly consumed by the depths of it before he looks away back to the far wall. 

Bradley slowly relaxes, except for his arms around you. He crushes you close to his chest, not tighter than when you started crying, but nearly. 

"I haven't been taking care of you?" He finally asks you. It's a detached, distant tone of voice that you don't recognize from Bradley. 

You can't say anything now. You already regret the words and don't want to dig into them further. If you could rewind and go back to just a few minutes ago before you said them, you would. Bradley waits; he doesn't push you for an answer and doesn't punish you for not giving him one this time. He doesn't let go of you either. 

You decide to lie to him and shove your raw feelings into a box. You prepare to tell him how, of course, you've felt taken care of. You didn't know what you were even saying. They were just more bratty words, but he beats you to the punch. 

"You're right. I don't deserve a good girl like you."

"You do. You are amazing, Bradley."

"Please don't lie to me, princess." He gruffly tells you. Your heart clenches hard in your chest.

"It's not a lie." You stroke the side of his neck, trying to provide comfort. "You are the best man I've ever met."

He scoffs hearing that. "Not if I haven't been taking care of you. Then I hardly even deserve to be called a man at all." 

"I'm a grown woman. I don't need a man to take care of me. My hormones are probably just out of wack. That's where all this came from. Can we chalk it up to that and leave it?" 

"I know you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You have to do it every time I leave. But you shouldn't have to when I am here. Plus, I'm not just any man."

"Please, Bradley. I promise it doesn't matter."

"Of course, it matters! How you feel will always matter to me." 

You sigh into his neck. The emotions in you pull so tight you know that if this conversation continues, you will likely break into tears again. 

"What do you need to hear for this to be better?"

"I need what I always need. I need honesty and the truth."

"You won't let me take it back, will you?" 

"No. I need you to tell me how you feel."

"I feel like you don't enjoy taking care of me anymore." You start, repeating what you already had said. You wait for him to say something, but he stays quietly listening, so you continue. 

"I feel like you are days away from breaking up with me. Sometimes, I feel like you would rather be anywhere but dealing with me. I feel like I'm a chore. I feel like I won't be your girlfriend by the time you next ship off. It feels like you are just waiting for the right moment, doing what you must until it's the right time or convenient to end it." 

You pause to take a deep breath. Waiting for him to say something now. 

"Fuck," Bradley sighs the word. It is under his breath, and you hear it only because you are cuddled so close to him. "That couldn't be further from the truth for me, baby. But you are right about something. I have no intention for you to be my girlfriend by the time I have to go again. I'm hoping you will be much more than that."

You have never felt your heart plummet and then rise again within such a short span of time. You are consumed with the need to see his face. You struggle against Bradley's arms holding you, wiggling until he lets you go. You climb out of his embrace and lie down on your side, motioning for him to do the same. Bradley lowers himself down on the bed until he is lying parallel to you. 

You pull him closer until various parts of you are still brushing, but you can stare at his face now. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and stare into his eyes like they hold the answers to the universe. You briefly consider that maybe they do. 

"I need examples," Bradley utters as his arm slings across your waist. 

"It's stupid, Bradley. My own made up insecurities over tiny things that aren't real." 

"It's not stupid. I want to know. We can only put these insecurities to rest if we acknowledge them. And, so, I can make sure I'm not hurting you. I would never intentionally hurt you," Bradley says with conviction. 

You sigh and trace the scar on his chin for a long moment trying to think of examples. "Last week, you didn't kiss me when you got home from the store. And sometimes you talk about our house like, it's just a temporary place, not our home."

"Baby, this is just a temporary place. I could get restationed any day."

"It's not about the actual house Bradley. It's about me. I know you'll get restationed at some point, or we will finally buy our own place. But when you talk about it like that, I sometimes feel like I'm not your home." The final sentence comes out in a broken whisper. 

Bradley's hand that is on your hip digs into the flesh hard. It makes you whine a little bit, more from the surprise of the grip than anything else. 

"You are the only thing I have to come home to. I don't care if we live here, in the back of the Bronco, or in a cardboard box. It wouldn't matter to me. You are my home, baby. I ain't got no one else." He searches your eyes like he is looking for something when he says those words. But, he must eventually find it because the edge of his lip quirks up he relaxes his hand again.

"I'll work on that," he promises you. "And I'll try not to forget any more kisses. If I do, I want you to stop me, no matter what's going on, and ask me if I forgot something. If you ever want kisses, baby, I am always more than happy to oblige."

You take him up on the offer right then and there, leaning forward and sealing your lips against his. It's a slow and tender kiss. The kind that you only have when someone knows you entirely. When Bradley pulls away, he leaves his forehead pressed against yours. 

"What are some other things?" He whispers the question. 

"You let me go to my last doctor's appointment alone," you say, trying to scrounge your mind for more random examples. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you would want me to be at your gynecologist appointment."

"You just didn't even offer. It's not like anyone in the world is more acquainted with my vagina than you and me." You laugh even saying the words, the heavy feeling in your chest finally subsiding. Bradley joins you, letting out a few chuckles. You hadn't actually wanted him to come to the appointment, but it was more about the point of him wanting to go. 

"I'll be at the next one," he promises you. 

"I don't actually want you to go," you start to tell him, but he cuts you off. 

"No takes backs, princess. If I am here, I will be at the appointment. Your birth control and uterine health are very important to me." You laugh at him shaking your head at his silliness. 

"What else?" Bradley asks you again. 

"I don't have anything else I can think of right now," you tell him honestly. 

"And when you think of some. What are you going to do?"

"I'll let you know," you say, but it's not in a convincing tone. 

"Thank you. That's all I ever want, is for you to talk to me. I can't help or fix things if I don't know what's wrong."

"You are just so perfect. The thought of bothering you to ask for more... it feels selfish."

"It's not selfish," he reassures you kindly. "I would do anything for you. I want to do everything for you." 

"I love you, Bradley," you tell him, kissing and pulling him close to your body. He kisses you back, his devotion for you bleeding into every movement of his mouth and how his hand starts to caress your side. 

You try to hold him to you when he pulls away this time. But he just tsks his tongue at you, giving you a goofy smile. 

"I need to change the sheets. You need to pee. And we should probably shower."

He moves to lift you up in his arms, but you squirm, pouting until he drops you back on the bed. 

"Princess, I thought we were done with being bratty." He groans out, but there is no real bite in his words, especially not with how he is smiling at you. 

"I think I might like being bratty sometimes." You tease him, spreading your sore body out for him like an invite. 

He scoops you into his arms again, ignoring your wiggles, walking towards the bathroom. "That's okay, princess. I like spanking you to teach you a lesson."

You hide your grin in his neck until he sets you down gently on the bathroom counter. Bradley starts the shower so it can warm up. Then he heads back to the bedroom to change the sheets, but not before giving you a pointed look. 

He is already back in your bedroom when you call after him, your voice still feeling a little horse. "Lieutenant Bradshaw?" 

"Yes, Ma'am?" He calls back. 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" 

He literally sprints back into the bathroom, which makes you giggle. Rooster comes to a little sliding stop on one of the floor mats in front of you. One of his large hands cups the back of your head and the other holds your cheek. You part your mouth in anticipation, but he kisses your forehead first. Then each one of your eyes and nose. 

"My love," he sighs the words, giving you a wide grin before finally kissing your mouth. 

The phrase bounces around your head a few times before making its way into your chest and settling warmly there, starting to blossom. You were his, and he was yours. Sometimes things can just be simple like that. 

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster smut #Bradley bradshaw x you #Rooster x you #My work #Bradley Bradshaw x reader

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Before Her Show

Pairing: Envy Adams x GN! Scott's Sibling! Reader.

Summary: Imagine being Scott's sibling and having a secret affair with Envy Adams.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Oral sex (fem receiving), backstage sex, Envy is kinda mean, cheating? (if you want to imagine Envy is with Todd).

Writing Time: 1 hour.

Word Count: 516.

Format: Kinktober Imagine, Day 4.

A/N:

Day 4 of Kinktober!I'm a lot more pleased with this than I thought I'd be. The prompt was such a bad one (that I made up) but I think I made it work really well. Please enjoy! Who's ready for the anime in November?

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Imagine sneaking around with the World's biggest singer. Envy Adams had it all, everyone would die for less than half of what you got from her.

Sadly the sneaking around wasn't just to avoid bad press on the lead singer of the biggest Indie rock back ever, but so you didn't ruin your relationship with your brother. Scott was an asshole, but sleeping with the girl who broke his heart was just too much.

But there was something exciting with risking it all, it made your small quiet moments with Envy just all that more hot and loving. You loved the soft cuddles with Envy just as much as you loved the hard crazy fucking you'd both do too.

The way she would grab you suddenly back stage and drag you into her dressing room right before a show or interview because,

"I need something from you to keep me going, love.."

Imagine Envy locking the door before skipping past you and sitting herself down on her vanity table with her legs spread wide. You would stare at her in shock until you looked back at you with a glare, "I don't have all day brat!"

Yep, that was Envy for you.

Imagine moving down to your knees and moving over to Envy and taking hold of her thighs before placing a small kitten lick over her clothed cunt.

Imagine Envy wearing a white tank top, leather jacket and a black miniskirt. Always with a white thong to make it easier for you to pull her underwear to the side and get to work. Which you did, making Envy throw her head back and fist one hand into your hair and the other hand kept her balance on the top.

Imagine Envy pulling your hair gently and moaning as you devoured her folds. Her slick coated your face and tasted so sweet, you almost couldn't stop yourself. Her moans and shivers would make you hot and move one of your hands low to toy with yourself through your clothes.

It wouldn't take too long for Envy to cum. When she would, she would push your head away from her and slowly calm herself from her climax. You looked up at her eagerly, hoping today would be one of those rare days she's getting you off after you helped her out.

But alast, it was never one of those rare days. Envy fixed her clothes and kissed your cheek as she left the room, "See ya later honey! I've got a show to do."

Envy was so cruel.

#stitched #stitched mouth #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #stitched writes #spvstw #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim #envy adams #envy adams x reader #envy adams smut #natalie addams

[the-biggest-simp-in-the-land]

hi new one's! You open for request am I right? If you don't mind I want some Obey me smut for brothers if can't all of them just Lucifer and Satan :>

how will they react when their beloved MC is angry at them for some reason and refuses to have sex for a whole month ( wow cruel) when the MC is not angry anymore and the brothers become Brutal during their Bed activity -////- specific kink ? I'm ok with Breeding and Spanking

I hope this isn't too much to ask, Feel free to ignore if it makes you uncomfortable :> sorry for my horny feeling

Sorry for the  delay.

Please don't feel ashamed for doing such a beautiful request and ooh God this is gonna be a long ride, I think, a fun one, I hope.

You didn't specify the gender so I'm going with an non-binary approach.

Minors GET OUT

Please warn me if you see anything that triggers you.

Lucifer 

He forgot about your monthly dinner date, cause he was extremely stressed about shit his brothers had done throughout the day and he had a big and extraordinarily boring meeting with diavolo, that he also forgot to mention to you. And honestly, you would forgive him if it wasn't the third month without those dinner dates.

He would try to talk to you, try to reason, even ask for forgiveness, something extraordinarily rare because of his pride, look how much despair you create, just because you are denying him, but when the month is over, ooooooh you better run.

I think it would go like this:

The desperation of getting out of this overwhelming pleasure, as you try to wiggle as little as possible, because the ropes would dig even more into your skin. Tied up on Lucifer's ceiling, for who knows how long, with a bullet vibrator in you, he left the room right after he was done tying you up, and giving you a good old spanking, It felt like you were there for days. Then finally the door opens again, maybe he will forgive you, maybe he will use you to make up for the lost time, it doesn't matter, the only thing that matters now is that he is here.

And boy oh boy, he is gonna make you pay, consensualy of course, you revoked his funny business privileges, he is gonna revoke your walking privileges for at least a week.

Mammon

He gambled a present you gave him in horse racing. When you found out he almost lost it, for the second time, oh well Mammon, say bye bye to mc, you not only don't slam his slammer, but you also don't talk to him, and when he noticed he started to annoy the fuck out of you.

How this goes down depends on you, if you talk to him again,  before the month is over, he will annoy you less, still learn his lesson and be a little happier and will go easier on you, but if not��� Skedaddle skadoodle your legs are a now noodle.

I believe that Mammon, when domming, is a soft dom, but that doesn't mean that he can't be a little rough sometimes.

"Come on, pretty thing, can't you deal with what you've done?" He looks at you while you suck on his pretty cock, as he gives a light smack on your ass. "There we go love such a good human, the best living being in the three realms." He says as he makes you go deeper.

Levi

He got a little jealous when one of the brothers was out with you doing things, let's say idiotic things, especially since you were out with mammon, probably helping him out of a pyramid scheme.

It doesn't really matter, Levi is lonely, and got so fucking jealous, he almost broke his favorite ultra rare Ruri-chan action figure. After the fit he had inside his room, he went after you and mammon,

Annoy the fuck out of you 2.0

"You're such a little brat, trying to tease this whole month, ignoring me, and in the end YOU end up crying hard and I didn't even started… that's adorable." He coos in a condescending voice.

He would whine, a lot, like really, he will go OUTSIDE just to annoy the fuck out of you and try to convince you. Yes he does relieves himself by masturbating, cause if he didn't you would be trying to kill him.

(I belive it is one of the times where admiral Leviathan comes out)

Satan

I think he would actually be really comprehensive and calm about the whole thing, he understands he fucked up, he may be the avatar of wrath and because of that he would be the best with his feelings and the others… BUT you should have been warned what would happen after the conflict had been solved. After you calm down and his privileges are back, you won't walk soon darling. He will go all out, and I mean it.

"Come on kitty, it's been a month, now it's time for us to catch up for the lost time."

You were in his favorite lingerie, a black lacy one with an opening right in the ass for easy access, a set that he chose during the month you decided to deny him, a really pretty tail plug, that matches perfectly your hair color, along with the cat ears and the adorable little collar in your favorite color. At that moment you knew it was gonna be a long night.

Asmo

Basically he would pass through the 5 stages of grief.

Now you wanna know how did he fuck up?

It was late at night and he went in too your room and you made go out, it would be fine if it wasn't for being the day before an important thing you had (think about, idk, a test?), you told him you could go tomorrow, but he told you it was something he could not delay, it was a sale on his favorite beauty products… yeah.

During the month he will try to make you give in to him, let him pleasure you and him at the same time, he will also tease the fuck out of you and try to invade your room to relive some of this pent up energy, but thanks to Lucifer's magic, he can't.

After the month is over be prepared to be edged,fucked dumb and over stimulated, it will take a while for him to get all this frustration out, you make a note to try this again cause even so the month was hard for both of you the wait was worth it, he learned his lesson and you enjoyed yourself way too much.

Beel

Tbh I don't se him fucking up something really big, unless it involves food… like he ate a present that you made for someone else. I think the conflict happened when you made some angel cakes for Luke, cause you both were exchanging typical foods from the sender's realm. You left the kitchen with your almost ready sweets, but it was missing a small detail, the edible sparkly blue confetti, you left it in your room and went to get it, but you forgot one small detail, you left the angel cakes unguarded, with just a small note for luke. Beel saw them and ate them all, forgetting about what you told him and ignoring the letter that had Luke written in capital letters.

Understandable have a good day.

That was him before he had met you, he would be fine, but after the first time you had done the deed, what was small had grown into a monster.

So you can expect some over stimulation, lots of oral and even some breeding (if he is feeling like it)

Belphie

You were horny, he denied you, you denied him for a month, well that's not the complete story, even though there is some, consensual, sonophilia here and there and shit, almost everyday either of you wakes up and have some sex. Well one day he decided to deny you, just for fun, and tease you all day long, talking dirty with his sleepy voice in the middle of the class. When you arrived at home he just eddge you and did not let you come once, all the while he gave you that lazy smirk.

Well that's when you decided to tease him for way longer and you managed to keep that up for a month, he didn't seemed bothered by it, until he just burst into your room pinning you to the bed. 

"You actually think you can go around like that, teasing me for this long and nothing would happen to you?" He growls at you.

If you want more or an actual fic,please tell me <3

#obey me smut #lucifer smut #mammon smut #levi smut #satan smut #asmo smut #beel smut #belphie smut #Dom obey me boys

[just-another-star-47]

🌶 NSFW 🌶

- You wanted it, so here you have it. ;) -

Enough is enough

Teasing Sebastian after his Quidditch game was probably a tad too much.

"So, how does it feel to be a loser?"

Leaning on her broom, she grinned cheekily at the Slytherin Beater as he put his feet back on the ground.

He glared at her angrily, "Are you that obsessed with my reaction that you're waiting for me to tell me that?"

"I'm just tired of having to listen to what a bad flyer I am," she nagged back, putting her left arm on her hip as Sebastian stepped closer.

"Just because you stayed on your bloody broom during one game doesn't make you a good one."

"But the fact that we won does. And how skilfully I dodged the blutcher you hurled in my direction - a master stroke."

Sebastian leant down to her for a moment, clutching his broom as he audibly sucked in his breath through his nose.

"Are you so fucking disrespectful to all the older students?"

"Only to you," she returned, holding the gaze of his dark eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching.

It seemed as if a thousand answers were running through Sebastian's mind, but instead he just shook it and broke free from his stupor. Whirling the bat through the air, he marched across the Quidditch pitch, heading for the exit to the changing rooms. Eyes narrowed and lips pursed, she followed his figure with her gaze before walking in the same direction at a distance.

"You're slacking off, Sebastian."

"And you don't know when to stop."

She snorted: "You're only saying that because you can't think of any more quick-witted answers. Or you're too cowardly to say them."

Sebastian stood still without turning round to face her and waited until she had reached his level. The right corner of his mouth pulled up into a grin as she stopped beside him.

"What exactly is your problem, huh?"

He placed the broom and bat against a wall, not taking his eyes off her, and then slowly walked towards her, pushing her against a door and into one of the small storage rooms next to the changing rooms.

"So obsessed with my every reaction. You think I can't see your eyes light up when I talk back to you?"

She could see the individual freckles on his face, the way his skin shone after the strenuous Quidditch match. His scent enveloped her and made her realise how close he was to her - and yet she couldn't suppress the urge to push their game even further.

"They light up when I realise you've got nothing on me. Don't you pride yourself on being particularly witty?"

She raised an eyebrow as a sign of her scepticism. "Maybe you should start showing me some of that."

"Right now, I just want you to shut up for once."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist, his breath fanning across her lips.

"Oh, you mean I'd let something like that upset me..." Her words died on her lips as his lower abdomen pressed against hers along with the rest of his body.

"Oh? That's what keeps you quiet?" Sebastian grinned and grabbed her face with one hand, pressing his fingers against her cheeks as his eyes flitted intently over every detail of her face. They widened as her pupils dilated, and her lips parted slightly.

"Fuck. You really like that."

His eyes boring into hers, he pressed her against the wall and lifted one of her legs to better thrust his arousal against her core.

"Is this what you wanted all along? You damn little brat."

Instead of an answer, she closed the last few centimetres between their lips, a kiss that Sebastian hungrily returned. Overwhelmed, her brain didn't know what to focus on first. The way his lips felt demanding and passionate on hers, the way each kiss sent another shiver of fire through her entire body. Or the way the movements of his hips created a friction that made her weak in the knees.

She gasped against his open mouth before her head slumped back against the wall, eyes closed, brows drawn together in pleasure.

"Damn, you're perfect...," Sebastian murmured, his eyes fixed on her expression.

As her lower body moved with his and pressed rhythmically against him, he bit his lower lip and rested his forehead against her shoulder, a restrained whimper escaping his throat. His lips sought out the open spaces on her neck, kissing and nibbling the skin up to her jaw. Her fingers tangled in his clothes, her hips trembling, seeking more contact, more friction as she pulled him closer.

The feeling of his hard erection beneath the fabric of his pants drove her wild - how it rubbed against her core, spreading tingles through her whole body and slowly building up the pleasure inside of her.

With a bite of her earlobe, Sebastian stopped his movements, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he leant against the wall and looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. A cheeky laugh played around his lips as he put some distance between them.

"Have some sweet dreams about me tonight."

Once more, he kissed her, losing his control for a moment as his tongue touched hers. And yet he pulled back, grinned at her once more and winked before leaving her alone in the small room.

All snippets in chronological order here.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy modern au #modern sebastian sallow #because i never hated you fic

[gatorbites-imagines]

So taking your same reader from the homelander daddy kink fic? Would you be open to do one where we for whatever reason punish him by spanking him and then he gets really aroused by it and cums on our lap. So then we have him lick it up and then breed him?

Homelander/John Gillman x male reader

This is the same reader as the one in my kinktober prompt, hope yall enjoy. idk if this is my best work ever, i somehow couldnt seem to get in the mood to write but wanted to finish this.

Hope yall still enjoy though.

John was a brat, that was no secret. Anyone who met him could tell you that John was used to getting his way and was easy to annoy when things didn’t go how he wanted them too. He wanted to be praised and worshipped, so when he started seeing (Y/N) he wanted the same thing from the bigger man as well.

This was the start of their relationship, and it took a long time for John to accept he liked their dynamic a little more different than he was used too. Now, just because John accepted, he wanted (Y/N) to be his daddy and take care of him, didn’t mean any of Johns bratty behaviours went away, they actually became worse in some situations.

Homelander would only show some of them when it was just the two of them, the ones that would look bad on his reputation. Normally (Y/N) would pet him and coo at John when he was feeling slighted by something in his everyday life, especially when it came to things involving being part of the seven or the attention it gave. At times Homelander was jealous of how (Y/N) had no such job, that the man was oh so powerful that even vought bent over backwards for him. It also made him very proud of course, seeing as (Y/N) wanted him and not anybody else.

(Y/N) tended to pity John when it came to outside things making him annoyed and snappy, but he would tolerate disrespect to himself from his partner when they were playing with their different dynamic. So when John broke the rules and talked back to (Y/N), punishment of course followed.

That’s what found them in the situation they were in now, John laid over the other man’s broad thighs, his hips grinding against the thick muscle as the larger mans strong hands came down on the blondes behind and thighs. John had his hands clenched in tight fists, his eyes wet with tears as flashes of pain travelled through him, the feeling mixing with pleasure as his hard cock rubbed against the fabric of his daddy’s pants.

The spanking continued as (Y/N) scolded John, voice filled with disappointment as he pointed out just what Homelander had done wrong and how it hurt (Y/N) that his boy didn’t do as he was told. Up until then John had been able to stay mostly quiet, but the knowledge that his daddy was disappointed in him made the sobs he had been supressing spill fourth.

The throbbing pain of the spanking and the humiliation of crying, an action Homelander saw as beneath him on a normal day, only made his arousal bubble even further. An extra hard strike from (Y/N)s hand caused Johns hips to grind against his thigh just right, the action pushing the blonde over the edge and making him spill against (Y/N)s leg.

John whimpered as he felt more tears of embarrassment and arousal pour down his face at what had just happened, his body completely limp when (Y/N) moved him around and pushed his face down into the streaks of white the blonde had painted all over the fabric of his daddy’s trousers.  

The blonde knew what to do, him cumming from being spanked wasn’t a new concept, so even as his vision stayed blurry with tears, he stuck out his tongue and ran it across the fabric, tiny noises leaving him as his mouth filled with the taste of himself.

(Y/N) ran his hand through John’s hair as he kept licking up the mess he had made, his other running down the dip of the blonde’s spine, coming to a stop after the tailbone to rub his fingers between the mans cheeks. The action made John whine, twisting his head so he could glance up at his daddy as he kept licking up his mess, leaving a large wet patch of spit on his wake.

John was still slightly loose from earlier that day, so after getting some lube on his fingers (Y/N) was quick to stretch him open again. At some point the blonde had finished licking up his mess and was just panting against (Y/N)s leg, mouth open and hands gripping onto the larger man as he tried to move his hips backwards in search of more pleasure.

Homelander was so out of it he didn’t even realise (Y/N) had opened up his pants, just enough so he could pull out his length, until the larger man withdrew his fingers from John’s hole and pulled him back up and into his lap again. This time Homelander was sat with his chest to (Y/N)s, the other man holding onto his hips as he held him up, the tip of his length pressing against his stretched hole.

A long whine left the blondes lips as he looked at (Y/N) with wet eyes, Johns lips wet and red from being bitten and sucked at, choked off begs leaving his lips as he tried to press his hips down so get the other man inside of him. Leaning in (Y/N) pressed a kiss to Homelanders forehead before finally pushing him down, slowly pushing inside the other man’s hole, giving him enough time to adjust to the intrusion. When he was fully inside (Y/N) gave John time to adjust, the blonde having wrapped his arms around (Y/N)s shoulders and buried his face into the mans shoulder as he panted and left wet patches against his shirt from his tears.

When he had adjusted to the stretch John started wriggling his hips, squeezing around the length as trying to move his hips in the strong grip that was holding them still. Finally, (Y/N) started moving, lifting and lowering John as if he weighed nothing, the action causing Homelander to moan and grip on tighter to the other man as he moved his hips along with the movement.

At some point (Y/N) let go of Johns hips, watching as the blonde bounced almost desperately in his lap as he chased his orgasm. The noises John made were almost sinful, loud moans and choked whines forcing their way out of his chest as his movements grew quicker and needier. Whimpers of “daddy” and “please” seemed to be the only coherent words he could muster, tears running down his face as he sought his release.

Feeling pity for the blonde, (Y/N) reached up and wrapped a hand around John’s length, moving his hand along with the movement of his hips and stroking the man’s length. The heat built in both of the men, but John was the first to finish, an almost painful keen leaving him as he spilled white streaks across the front of (Y/N)s shirt. He didn’t stop the movements of his hips, not until (Y/N) finished as well, spilling inside the blonde and pulling his hips down against his lap.

John went limp against (Y/N)s chest, trying his catch his breath as he clenched around the other mans length, his eyes fluttering as he felt full of (Y/N)s spend, Johns cock giving a small twitch at the knowledge that the other man had finished inside of him. (Y/N) pressed a kiss to the top of Johns head, pulling him close and rubbing his hand up and down the blondes back, muttering to him about what a good job he had done, and how much of a good boy he was. Feeling exhausted John cuddled closer to (Y/N) and let himself relax, falling asleep against the other mans shoulder with his length still inside him, they could clean that later.

#male reader #top reader #the boys #homelander #john gillman #the boys imagine #the boys headcanon #the boys x male reader #the boys x reader #homelander imagine #homelander headcanon #homelander x male reader #homelander x reader #john gillman imagine #john gillman headcanon #john gillman x male reader #john gillman x reader