Silverose365

"Cruz, Capp, Tony, and Severide, this is Y/L/N. She's the new floater on Ambo 61." Brett introduced you to them as you flashed a shy smile, avoiding Severide's eyes the whole time. You knew one day you would have to face him again. But if you had a choice, you would never choose to work by his side. Not after everything you went through. But since you were sent here, all you wanted to do was leave the past behind you and do your job.

"Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you!" You walked to the table and shook their hands, one by one. At Severide's turn, you swallowed hard and looked down, not meeting his confused yet curious eyes as he firmly shook your hand. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss his touch, the warmth of his skin.

"So, Y/L/N," Cruz spoke, making you turn around to face him. "Haven't we met already? Cause I'm pretty sure I've seen you before."

You frowned at his question, tilting your head to the side as you tried to think about it. "Huh...I don't think so..." You answered, knowing you two had met while you dated Severide, but since you wanted to forget that part of your life you didn't touch the subject.

-/-/-

After coming back from another call, you made your way through the app floor and went straight to the kitchen. You still didn't know where all the food and the utensils were, so it was taking quite a long time to make just a simple sandwich. 

"For God's sake-" You mumbled, standing on a chair while you looked for a plate inside the kitchen cabinet.

"Need some help?" Severide's voice echoed through the room, making you lose your balance and almost fall from the chair. He rushed to help you but you quickly managed to steady yourself.

"No, I'm good." You shot back, not looking at him. Once those words came out of your mouth you noticed how rude you sounded, so you tried to repair it. "Thanks though." You quietly said, finally meeting his eyes.

"Anytime." He smiled, watching you go back to the counter to make your sandwich. "Can I ask you something?" He made his way to your side and leaned on the counter.

"Depends..." You answered, keeping your attention on the food in your hands. "If you wanna ask something about my past, go for it. But I won't answer it." You confessed, making Severide laugh.

"Seriously, Y/N. Why did you leave?" He asked either way. The way he sounded hurt almost made you feel sorry for him. "You always push people away. I just thought you'd never do it to me."

That, right there, was enough to make a switch flip in your head. "And why is that? Huh? Why do you think I pushed you away?" You shot back, putting your sandwich back on the plate as you stared at him in shock. 

"What the hell's going on with you?" He frowned. "Seriously. What's going on? You've been treating me like shit since the minute you stepped inside this firehouse."

"You're unbelievable." You whispered. Looking back at the plate, you pushed it away and shook your head. "I lost my appetite." Before you could step away, Severide grabbed your arm.

"Come on, Y/N. What have I done to you?" His voice sounded genuine as if he didn't know all the hell he made you go through.

You let go of his hand on your arm, incredulously. "What have you done to me!?" You whispered-yelled, holding back the tears. "You used me, Kelly! I loved you, you used me. All you wanted was someone who could provide you with those fucking pills. I never meant anything to you."

"What!? No!" He quickly shook his head. "Y/N, I didn't use you. I was dating you because I liked you." He confessed.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't reach out to me because you needed those pills." You whispered, knowing your voice would fail if you tried to speak louder. The few seconds of silence coming from Severide said it all. He used you.

"I don't have the energy to fight you anymore." You confessed, stepping away. "I'll tell Boden I wanna be transferred to another house." Severide watched your back as you walked out of the room.

-/-/-

Walking inside the locker room, Severide greeted the firefighters from the last shift as they grabbed their bags to leave. As he got ready for his shift, he could hear the men chatting by his side, but didn't pay any attention - that’s until he heard your name being thrown in the conversation.

“Is that Y/L/N?” One of them asked, looking over the bunk room as you walked by. “I didn’t know she was working at 51 now.”

“I didn’t know they were accepting junkies.” The other one scoffed.

Severide turned around and grabbed the man’s arm before the group exited the room. “What did you say?”

“Hey, take it easy…it was a joke!” He laughed, freeing his arm from Severide’s hold. “We’re all friends here, there’s no need to get angry over this.”

Seeing Severide’s confusion, another man stepped in. “Rumors says she got caught stealing some pills from the ambo once, back at Firehouse 36.” He confessed. “...has been jumping from one station to another ever since.”

“When was that?” The lieutenant asked.

“Man, I don’t know…a few years ago.” He replied before leaving the room.

The new information took Severide off guard. He didn’t have to do the math, it was obvious that you got caught getting those pills for him. Of course you despised him, you have every reason to do so.

-/-/-

“Did something happen between you two?” Brett curiously asked as her eyes darted between you and Severide while you cleaned the ambo.

You looked over at the lieutenant sitting at the squad table and took a heavy sight. “Well, there’s no use in hiding anything from you, so…” you turned your back to Severide and faced Brett. “We…dated - if that’s even the right word - a few years ago.”

Brett gasped, then let out a short laugh. “Of course! I should have realised that! It was obvious by the way he’s always looking at you…”

“Oh, shut up!” You rolled your eyes. “It was a long time ago…a lot of things happened back then. We’re not on good terms.” You confessed, earning back a “spill the tea” look from your new friend. “He used me to get something he needed. He was desperate and I was stupid.” You glanced at the lieutenant, “...I got caught doing something for him and he wasn’t there to have my back.”

“Oh…” Brett sighed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was an asshole.” She confessed, making you laugh. “And the asshole is walking over here, so let’s change the subject..”

You took a deep breath before turning around and facing the lieutenant. “Hey, can we talk?” He asked you with a strange look on his face.

“Humm…sure.” was all you could answer. You followed him inside the firehouse and waited for him to speak.

“You never told me you got caught getting me those pills.” He confronted you, catching off guard. “You never said anything. Why?”

All you could do was laugh. “Are you being serious right now?” You frowned, trying your best to keep your tone down. “Shit went down for me because of your fucking addiction! I almost lost my job! What did you want me to do? To come over here and say what??”

“I don’t know…” He confessed. “I just wish I knew what you were going through. I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Well, maybe because you are responsible, Kelly!” You hissed back at him.

“I never forced you to do anything-”

“Ohhh, really…you’re pulling that card, hum?”

“I- I didn’t mean that…I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face as the conversation got out of control. “I’m sorry…for everything, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, there’s not much you can do now…” You answered, tired of the conversation that just started. “I’m gonna be honest with you, Kelly. I have no intention of sticking around this firehouse. I’m a floater and I’m at peace with that. I just wanna do my job.”

The look on Severide’s face as you said those words made you frown. “What if there was something I could do about that? What- What if you could stay here?”

“Here? At 51? With you??” You asked incredulously. You couldn’t believe he was really saying this. “Kelly, I’m sorry, but this is the last place I wanna be.”

“Why? It’s not that bad…and I can see you’re already making friends.” He looked out the window and glanced at the blonde PIC.

You flashed a short smile at Brett. You, in fact, were making a new friend. Something you hadn’t done in a while, since you never stay in one place for too long. “I don’t know, Kelly…”

“Please, let me try…I can talk to Boden about it.” He sent you a soft smile. “That’s the least I can do.”

You rubbed your face and sighed. Maybe this was his chance of doing something right after all these years. Maybe this was your chance to plant your roots somewhere, make friends…make peace with your past.

Severide’s smile brought your attention back to him. “So…what do you say?” The lieutenant asked.

“Well, screw it. Let’s do this.” You smiled, forgetting the fight you had just a few minutes ago.

Severide extended his hand out, and you shook it. “So…we’re good now?”

“Hell no, don’t push it…” You pushed him back and walked out of the house with a soft grin on your face.

Severide watched you walk away with a smile on his face, his eyes darting to your ass just as you turned around and caught him red handed.

Sy knew of his … issue.

It was the biggest reason why it took him a bit too long to settle down.

His libido wore down his most passionate lovers and drowned his faithless girlfriends in crazed jealousy. So he figured he should just get as many women as he could and keep himself satisfied without the mess of a crashing relationship in his wake.

However, every bachelor has to die at some point or another. And his death came just after his 40th birthday, where he met a proper woman who had worked in one of the branches of his company in the city.

She was a bit cold but quite smart, one could call her distant but not to the point of being irresponsible of her relationships, just very picky. Sy had found it easy to converse with her and the little challenge that she posed when she refused to sleep with him on their first, second, or the third date. It made her less of another piece of ass to plunder but more of a land to conquer and make his own.

And so that’s what he did.

Because Logan Syverson always gets what he wants.

She was definitely the perfect woman that could be the neat little bow that would end his reign of pleasure.

And all should’ve been well.

Until it all came crashing down when he met her feisty little daughter that made every little knot of his facade of satiation unravel.

Sy side-eyed the noise inside the kitchen of his home from his garage.

Disturbing the resting birds and the quiet of the horses on the barn on the other side of the estate. He was glad at the very least he had bought a gated house with extra land all around to avoid any snooping neighbours from knowing any of their personal issues but that also means he gets to deal with all their shit alone.

From what he could gather his stepdaughter and her mother are fighting about another party she plans to attend tonight when she had gotten home at 3 am every day for the past 3 days. It had been understandable, the first few parties, it was to be the end of her senior year, after all, and all the kids her age are trying to milk the last moments of their feckless golden years before they are thrust in a shitty one-bedroom apartment, juggling their part-time jobs and academic responsibilities.

Not that he’d let that happen to his beloved stepdaughter who would clearly buckle at the smallest weight on her shoulders. Her penthouse in the city is already cleaned and ready for when he surprises her with it.

The door to the veranda opened with a clatter, small and urgent steps breaking through the quiet morning.

“Don’t you dare --”

“Daddy!”

That’s his cue.

Throwing his wrench on the table, he grabbed the damp towel hanging off his latest project -- a monstrosity of a truck he was planning on building back up -- and wiping as much of his sweat as he could as he walked out of his cabin to greet the storm coming his way.

Sy tried to suppress his groan at seeing you run towards him, his stepdaughter seemingly unaware that your tits were nearly bouncing out of your camisole.

You landed with a huff into his hard chest, pouting and wrapping your little arms around his waist, refusing to look back at your frustrated mother in your trail even if some of his sweat moistened your face.

“You a'right, honey?”

“Mom is being a bitch!”

“That’s it, young lady! You are ground --”

“Alright, alright,” he raised a hand to your mother to cut off her rant, his other rubbing your back as you tighten your grip around him. “Woman, calm down.”

“No, I don’t need to calm down! You need to stop codling that little brat!”

If there was one person that could blow the fuse of your usually composed mother it would be her daughter who was the exact opposite of her.

Where she was prim and proper she was all short flowy short skirts and see-through tops. Where her mother was shrewd and sharp, her daughter was dull but sweet. And where she liked to stand on her own feet her daughter liked to run to her daddy for any bump in her path.

Despite him getting married to your mother when you were already 18, you had barely had any father figure in your life that you had immediately latched on to him who was basically a stranger. Especially when he spoiled you with shopping trips, shiny pieces of jewellery, and a black card with your name on it just because he wanted to be in your good graces.

He was sure your mother had found it endearing at first, to see her boyfriend getting along so well with his daughter but now, a year into the marriage, a year of losing every argument with her daughter as she clung on to the man of the house, and a year of Sy giving you whatever you want while slowly edging away on your mother's control of you -- it has lost its novelty.

“I’ll take care of it,” he tried to remove your hands to talk to your mother properly but you refused to budge whimpering a little ‘daddy’, so placing you behind his back where your mother couldn’t see you while your arms remained knotted on his stomach was the best thing he could do. “I know you have that important meeting with your supervisor. You can’t be late.”

The woman gritted her teeth, eyes dropping down on your hands wrapped around each other into a fist before sighing, “You need to tighten her leash, Sy.”

"I said," Sy steeled his glare, “I’ll take care of it.”

The one thing about your mother despite her stance of independence and belief in women dominance is that she had somehow managed to marry the one man who couldn’t give her that illusion. In this family, your stepfather’s words were law. You have gladly learned about that early enough and abused it to your advantage.

So if you get his approval to get the shopping trips she said you didn’t need, pieces of jewellery she deemed you should earn, or the black card that was a bit “too much” -- then you will get it.

And if he says you can go to the party at Brandon’s on a school night, then you can go to Brandon’s fucking party on a fucking school night.

“Alright, honeybee, she ain’t here now.”

The nickname had stuck when you got stung by a bee on one of your first visits to Sy’s home when your dumbass tried to steal honey dripping from its hive because you were curious what fresh ones tasted like.

This time you let your arms be removed from their grip, facing the man though still not having it in yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you stop torturing your ma, hmm? Look at ‘cha, got my sweat all over your face,” he grunted, wiping your face with his own towel while you closed your eyes and let yourself be pampered by his gentle touch.

You pursed your lips, fluttering your lashes hoping he’ll let your little early tantrum slip but he tutted, pressing his thumb and pointer fingers on each edge of your lips until he had you on a forcible pout and finally looking up at his eyes.

“You can’t get everything you want with these lips, honey,” he chuckled, shaking your head playfully, making you giggle.

“‘T works on you,” you quipped, though a bit muffled from his grip.

A semblance of a growl rumbled on his chest making your breath hitch.

“It does, doesn’t it,” he commented almost thoughtlessly, fingers now running on your bottom lip and gently pinching it. “You better find a husband as nice as your daddy then.”

You blinked up at him, warmth beating on your chest until you felt like your heart would explode. Seemingly done with torturing you, Sy pushed himself back up, giving you enough space to actually breathe.

“Am I … am I not allowed to go to the party, daddy?” you looked down on your feet, one rubbing on the other as you tried to make your case to the only judge that matters. “I did so good on my last exams. I didn’t fail a single one.”

Yeah but you had barely passed any of it, he thought. Even failed in your first try and that's why you had to retake your senior year.

Sy knew you were probably sitting next to some poor nerd that gave you all his answers just to have a chance to ogle at your bouncing tits.

His eyes dropped to the mounds the cut of your top exposed for him, cursing his train of thoughts.

Playing dirty, you gently pulled away from his grip to press your body on his, snaking your hand on his neck until your face was buried on his neck.

He sighed, looking around him to make sure there were no prying eyes before cupping your bottom with one arm and guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he carried you back to the patio to sit on one of the overpriced sofas your mom had shipped all the way from some fancy boutique in New York.

He knew he shouldn’t let his young stepdaughter cling to him like this, especially when all she was wearing is her flimsy sleepwear. The inappropriate intimacy was probably from some sort of misplaced fondness and adoration to him who had been the first man in your life to give you some form of affection. And he also knows that you knew that your relationship with your stepfather was bordering on being improper, as you usually only act like this when it was just the two of you alone.

But as long as none of you calls it out, everything can remain as it is.

With him boiling with his frustrations and you happily getting the affections you craved from your doting stepfather.

He sat down and grunted, surprised when instead of moving away and sitting next to him as you usually do to cuddle, you instead adjust into a more comfortable position in his lap to straddle him, little fingers reaching up to play with his beard.

You must really want to go to that party.

“Why’d you wanna go to that boy’s part so bad? He your boyfriend?” he pried, pleased when you shook your head vehemently.

“No, daddy! I’m … no I don’t do that,” you whispered the last part as you broke eye contact and played with the collar of his flannel instead.

His eyebrows quirked, is she actually a virgin?

“I-I’m not … I already did it but I don’t any more! The boys in my school are not cute. They aren’t my type, they’re icky,” she stuttered adorably, desperately trying to convince him that she wasn’t slutting herself out in the parties she attended to. “I just want to hang out with my girls, daddy, I promise. And one of my best friends Alia is Brandon’s girlfriend so that’s why we’re going. It's going to be sooooo fun.”

Sy hummed, trying to process her words and not pop a boner at the same time when her tiny pussy was literally on top of his monstrous crotch, the white cotton of her panties barely able to hold the heat inside it, especially with the way she subtly bounces on her seat every time she speaks.

He knew she wouldn’t lie to him, to her mother sure but not to the man who always pulled her out of the shit she always found herself in.

“One condition.”

Her head popped, a grin immediately growing on her face as she squealed and peppered his bearded face with kisses he gladly accepted with a pleased hum.

“Yes! Anything you want!”

He chuckled, gripping your waist to pull you closer into his body, till your core was dragged to his lower stomach making you gasp. The man could swear he could smell her.

“You’re spending your weekend with me and your ma.”

Sy laughed at the face you pulled, hand rubbing on your waist to somehow convince you to say yes despite knowing you had no say about his decision in the first place.

He likes giving you an illusion of a choice, it’s how he keeps his leash on you as tight as possible without letting you or your mother know.

“Deals a deal, honeybee,” he grinned, “We can hang out on the pool, I can get the chef to make you that chocolate cupcake you liked.”

You played with the edge of his flannel, letting his words convince you that spending a day or two with your increasingly frustrating mother should be tolerable enough as long as he was there.

“Okay, daddy,” you relented, leaning down into his chest and laying your head down on the crook of his neck. “But you gotta stay with me all day. You gotta.”

He silently agreed, god knows how easy arguments would blow up when he left the two of you alone.

“I promise, honey,” Sy hummed in agreement, not planning to let you leave his sight on that weekend in the first place, “I’d never leave my good girl alone.”

You jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut on the second floor, the window by the sink shaking from the impact.

You just came out of the pool to get yourself a lemonade in the kitchen after your daddy and mom went upstairs and left you alone for a bit to talk about something while in the middle of trying to spend together as a family.

“D-Daddy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not some fucking sex maniac like you!” your mom’s familiar sharp voice screamed, two pairs of loud footsteps thud down the stairs making you instinctively hide behind the kitchen island, sitting on the kitchen’s cold hardwood floor as you listened to their argument. ”I have a job, Sy! A demanding job, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you popped the fucking question.”

“It’s been a fucking week! Taking care of your husband not an important of a job enough for you?! You're needed here too!”

You frowned. A week? A week of what?

It seemed serious when it got your daddy this riled up.

“I can’t just drop down to my knees and suck your dick when you feel like it, Sy! You know how important this job is for me!”

This time you gasped, the crude words coming out of your mother’s mouth you only heard from your friends who went on sexcapades, never from your cold matriarch.

But even you frowned at her excuse. She might be all smart and stuff but sometimes she gets pretty silly especially when she puts her husband second. If you were the one married to daddy ...

“More important than your husband?”

You could feel everything turn cold the moment he uttered those words. You could only imagine the scene behind you as you weren’t brave enough to take a peek.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Then you heard the front door slam, her car turning on and screeching away.

You yelped when suddenly, a glass shattered on the opposite side of the island, surprising you as you were deep in thought of the argument that you had just accidentally overheard.

“Honey?”

You were caught.

"Sweetheart, come out."

You slowly popped your head out from behind the island, meekly smiling at your still fuming stepfather. His chest still rising and falling with every intense breath.

“H-Hi, daddy,” you muttered, trying to put on a smile on your face but you knew you weren’t getting out of this. “I wasn’t snooping on purpose I swear I was just going to get a drink and then …”

“Oh honey,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, seemingly calming down now as he carefully walked towards you. It was only when he was near that you realized you were still only in the itsy bitsy bikini that you wore with the purpose of getting tanned. But that didn’t seem to bother him, especially when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs, forcing you to instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his thick waist to make you sit on the counter with the only barrier between your bare skins were his shirt and swimming shorts. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

You pouted, looking on the ground on the opposite side of your hiding place to see pieces of glass scattered around it.

“I-I’m sorry, daddy.”

Sy frowned in confusion, running a thumb on your cheeks to soothe you, “about what, sweetheart?”

You hesitated, looking up at him through your lashes,” For mom being mean. I always get in fights with her and that’s why … that’s why she can’t take care of you anymore. I promise I’ll behave from now on, daddy --”

“Hey, none of that now, little girl,” he tutted, pressing two soft kisses on your cheeks and tearing up eye. “It’s not your fault. Mommy and I are just … going through a rough patch, a’right?”

“B-But …” you sighed, giving up when he gave you that glare that always told you to drop it. You nodded, hugging him tighter to bury your face in the comforting crook of his neck. “If only I was married to daddy I would…”

“Would what?”

Sy pulled you back, one hand tightening on the dip of your waist and the other one snaking back up to squeeze on your cheeks to force you to look at him. His rough fingers indenting on your face and forcing your lips into a pout.

You could feel yourself losing your breath at the slip of your tongue. Looking at him now, gone was your daddy who always had the warm gaze on his eyes. He looked crazed, like a beast. You could almost imagine the smoke coming out of his nose at his every breath.

“I --”

“You would what, honey?”

He could see you starting to get skittish, eyes already unfocused and finding other things on the background to stare at but he’d spent time with you long enough to know all he needs to do is press harder on your cheeks, a bit of drool dripping on to one corner of your mouth to his fingers, to make you look back up at him with the ditzy glaze in your widening irises.

“Say it, don’t play dumb with me.”

You whined at his harsh words, eyes suddenly widening when you felt something warm and big and pulsing on your core.

“D-Dadwy,” you stared at the growing bulge that was poorly masked by his brown swim shorts.

“Say it.”

Sy can see you struggling to focus, especially with his sizeable bulge dragging all your attention. But he didn’t care.

Cause he’s had enough.

Enough with the torture from both of you women in his life.

Enough of your cold mother who demeans him and his needs. Who always places him in second place, a place he had never been in his entire life. Enough of pretending that his life was perfect -- wrapped around in a neat little bow.

And he’s had enough of you -- of you and your short skirts, and pink panties that you somehow always managed to innocently flash him as you tip-toed your cute ass in his home. Enough of you clinging to him, sweetly calling him daddy as you rub up against him, slowly chipping away his self-control. Enough of the teasing and testing, thinking he wouldn’t have the guts to do something about you.

You whimpered under his intense gaze, despite being dopey 80% of the time you knew in your guts the next words that will come out of your mouth will change your life.

But he was glad to see a form of determination in your eyes

“I’d take care of you, daddy.”

Snap.

That was all it took and that was all he heard.

The snap of the last thread of his patience that held his sanity together.

And in a snap, his lips were suddenly on yours, the meat of his tongue exploring your wet, warm mouth as he drank your drool and moans into the caverns of his, sucking on your tongue just for the taste of it. With a grunt he lifted your ass off the counter, carrying you into the creamy white suede coral loveseat your mom treated like her second child.

“Ah!” you flinched when your mini triangle top suddenly fell off your chest, exposing your tingling nipples into your stepfather’s warm ministrations. Your back arched, supported only by his wide palms as he chased your bud, not giving you a moment's respite from his lips.

"I'm gonna warn you, sweetheart," he pinched on your nipples harshly till it pounded from the sudden onslaught of pain and pleasure, making you scream harder as tears start to form in your eyes. "Daddy's not gonna be nice."

“Daddy, I need -- I need --”

“Yeah? Your little pussy is getting hot isn’t she?” he mocked, eyes ablaze as if he was a beast that lost its mind, "getting hot and wet for her daddy."

You didn’t bother to protect your dignity, especially with the way you were continuing to hump his covered meat despite his mocking insults.

Suddenly, his grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to halt your actions as he ran a palm from your tits, down to your stomach, and finally a finger drawing a line on the soaking slit of your bikini.

“Impatient little cunt.”

“Daddy!”

His fingers expertly hooked the scrap of clothing that covered your core, exposing your drooling pussy for his eyes as he wasted no time and shoved two of his hefty fingers with a lewd squelch.

If your memory serves you right, you could swear it was almost as big as the cock that your ex-boyfriend devirginized you with.

The thought blown away when he started scissoring his fingers inside you, hitting the spongy little spot that had you keeling over in pleasure, your toes painfully curling as your mouth found purchase in his, fingers gently gripping on the rough beard on his cheeks to seek for some sort of ground.

“I’m ready, daddy. Please, please, please. Need more.”

He seemed to think otherwise but just stared down at you with a knowing smirk. He'd teach his dumb little baby a lesson.

“Alright, honey.”

Gently, he pulled on the strings on your final piece of clothing, making your eyes widen when he suddenly grabbed it pressed it on his nose, closing his eyes as he sniffed deeply, making your face burn in embarrassment when you saw just how you soaked through your bottoms.

“Next time, you’re sitting on my face.”

Next time.

You nodded giddily, leaning in to press a soft passionate kiss on his lips as you reached to remove his shirt, exposing the furs that littered the defined skin on his body. You found yourself staring intently at his chest, hands digging in as if to make sure he was really a man and not just all steel.

Suddenly, you felt your skin sting as he slapped the edge of your thighs, making you look up at him in tears. The indentation of his wedding rang making a clear mark on the meat of your thighs.

"Don't tease me, little girl. Today ain't about you. Your mom thinks she can just keep her pussy away from me?"" he chuckled cruelly, wondering if she would lose her mind if she walked into them right now: her young bouncy daughter desperately grinding her cunt on her husband. ", guess she didn't realize she ain't all that special. That i'd have another young willing pussy right here, didn't she?"

You could only nod, hands already desperately untying the knot in his shorts to grab the heavy meat that you had been desperate to be acquainted of -- gasping in shock when you realized it had almost been the size of your wrist, his bushy base making it look even more monstrous.

“D-Daddy …”

“Hmm,” he licked that moistened your temple, making you giggle. Weirdly aroused at being soaked off his scent -- his sweat sticking into your skin, his saliva drying on your face, his precum rubbing on the length of your stomach.

“I … I’m not sure if …” you looked up at him, eyes widening when he saw the disappointment in his face. “But I’ll do my best, daddy!”

His mouth cracked into a small smile, one of his hands patting you in the head like he always does when you get a C in your exams.

It makes your chest warm.

You’d do almost anything to make your daddy proud.

“Good girl.”

“It’s okay, honey. I was out of line,” Sy stood up from his marital bed, comforting his now emotional wife through the phone when she called him after a day of silence. “You can come home whenever you like.”

“I’ll drive now. I’m really sorry. I love you,” she sniffed. Sy could almost see her, whispering in the crowded cafe of the hotel she always runs away to every time they had a fight.

12 hours too late, Sy thought, eyes straying back to his stepdaughter in what was once their bed. Face down, drooling on her mother's pillow and ass up for her stepfather's viewing pleasure, twitching and whining from overstimulation as her cunt leaked of his cum from the pounding it received for the past half a day.

"Daddy," she wiggled her ass weakly, making Sy hum as he walked back to grip on the meat of her cheeks, his free thumb pushing to the side the lip of her raw and gaping pussy he had used for hours before pressing a gentle kiss on the other rosebud he plans to explore before his wife could come back home. ", more, please. I love you. Need more."

"Alright," he answered, both to your desperate pleas and your mother's proclamations. “I love you too.”

Sy was the perfect father, she knows.

It was one of the reasons she had agreed to marry him in the first place.

A bit too much, yes, but his heart was always in the right place.

“Ahhh! I love you so much, daddy!”

She watched as her daughter jumped into her stepfather’s arms. Pressing kisses on his face making her frown, unaware that her husband has bought her her dream car as a gift for her 20th birthday. She thought they agreed your condominium in the city would be a good enough gift.

“Can I test drive it? Please? Pretty please?”

Her frown deepened when you didn’t even give your own mother a glance, giddying up instead to him who was more than happy to pass on your shiny new keys.

“Alright, but I get to be your first passenger, honey.”

She shrieked happily, grabbing onto his hands as she dragged him up to the pearl white car that still had the massive pink bow on top of it.

She’s never felt more of a stranger in her own family.

She should feel horrible, to feel jealousy as the two of you disappeared into the corner of the driveway when Sy was only being a doting father.

She shook her head, refusing to let her habit of thinking the worst out of people away.

Maybe it’s time she eases up on her job and actually starts spending time with her family.

Maybe Sy was right.

She was needed here, after all.

“T-That’s it, honey,” Sy groaned, leaning back on the passenger seat as her tongue lapped a thick line from the base of his swelling balls into the weeping head of his cock. “God, you’ve gotten good at this.”

It would be impossible not to, not the way you’ve nearly had his cum for breakfast daily since your first tryst with your stepfather a few months ago. It would seem a little taste of his spunk had you addicted for more, tongue nearly hanging off every time the front door slam shuts as your mom leaves to start her day unaware that in less than two minutes her own husband will be choking her daughter with his cock.

It was almost like you were made for him -- your holes getting carved perfectly into the shape of his dick, your sex drive nearly keeping up with his own.

The two of you had gotten reckless with time.

His cock buried in your nearly insatiable cushy cunt, every time the two of you would be left alone.

His hand muffling your cries when he slipped into your ensuite bathroom to have his cock buried while you were supposed to be showering and getting ready for school, making out by the pool while your mother takes a short nap on the second floor with the perfect view to the backyard where her husband was eating her daughter's face, or even warming his cock as you kneeled by his feet in the floor of his office, your hips desperately grinding on his leather shoes as you drooled all over his balls while his clueless wife works on her own in the room next door.

For the first time in his life, Logan Syverson felt satisfied.

Satiated.

Dopey, and always in a good mood, all thanks to his perfect little fuckdoll that just lived to please him.

With a lewd pop, you smiled up at your daddy, rubbing your bottom lip on the slit of his cock, seeming unable to resist licking up the small dribble of precum that painted it.

“Thank you so much for the car, daddy. I know mom didn't want you to give me one,” you pouted at the thought, irrationally angry at your mom for preventing your daddy from spoiling you.

Sy scoffed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he pulled you a bit to press a kiss on your cheeks. “I’m the man of the house, little one. As long as you make daddy real happy, you’re getting whatever you want.”

You giggled, pressing a quick kiss on what you could reach on his arm that was holding you up, “Do I make you happy, daddy?”

Sy’s face seemed to soften, smiling down at you but his actions betrayed him as he slowly lowered you back down to face his angry-red cock.

“Not till you make me cum, honey.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow at what you were wearing.

Your sundress was so sheer she could almost see the indentations your bra made on your skin but before he could call you out on it Sy followed you down the stairs, chuckling at a silly joke you seemed to have said upstairs as he held your hands firmly in his.

She never made Sy laugh like that anymore.

“Hi, mom! Congrats on your promotion, you excited?”

She tried to smile at her daughter, gladly accepting the kiss on her cheeks as she sat down on what used to be her seat on the right side of the head of the table where Sy usually sat.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her the nasty rumours flying around how she only got the position on the other side of the state because of her husband who owned the company she was working on in the first place.

Or worse, that the reason she got the promotion in the first place was that her husband had gotten sick of her and is sending her far, far away from him.

She doubt Sy had to do anything to do with it, the man never really caring about her department in the first place, but it still stung every time she gets side-eyed by her coworkers. Or her own husband proves them right by downright ignoring her presence in their home.

‘“It’ll be so weird to not have mom here in the house, isn't it, daddy?”

“Don’t talk when your mouth is full, honey,” Sy tutted, grabbing the towel on his lap to wipe the edge of her mouth where a smear of the sauce tainted her skin.

She felt needles in her heart when Sy, once again, ignored the inquiry about her.

Didn't he care at all?

“It’s just for 6 months,” she tried to insert herself in the little bubble the other members of her family seemed to have found themselves in. “I’m sure it’ll pass by quickly.”

This time she didn't miss the way her daughter snickered, shaking her head and looking at her husband as if disagreeing with her like she and her stepfather had an inside joke that just went over her mother's head.

“Well, I sure hope it does, mom.”

“What’s the meaning of this, Sy?”

Sy groaned, sitting straighter on his seat. He should’ve known his wife -- well, future ex-wife, would never make it easy for any of them.

Thankfully, his stepdaughter was sprawled out in his office mahogany table, only in her pink crotchless babydoll lingerie and legs wide open to comfort him in these trying times.

“You didn’t sign a prenup so the money I’m giving you is just me being nice,” he answered, nonchalantly tracing her drooling cunt with the pad of his thumb. Grinning when her hips uncontrollably flinched, chasing his touch as if he hadn't given her her fill an hour ago -- he couldn't help but crack the smallest hint of a smile at the traces of his cum still staining the inside of her pussy lips.

Boy, was he glad he had gotten that birth control implanted in you.

“I don’t fucking care about the money! I didn’t know we had that much problem to be getting a divorce in the first place!”

She was getting hysterical now, the most emotions Sy had heard from her in the short three years of marriage they shared. He popped his moist finger into his mouth, humming at the taste of her juices.

“Sign it,” he glared, his voice turning cold that even her ditzy stepdaughter shivered. “You know you won’t win against me.”

“Sy, wha -- where is this coming from?”

He sighed, taking a drag on his tobacco and blowing it on his stepdaughter’s cunt, smiling down at her as she giggled. Placing the stick back on the glass ashtray you had bought for him (with the credit card that went straight into his bank account, but it's his little one's thought that counted).

“Sy?”

“I’m busy with a lil' something,” even he chuckled at his little joke, pinching on the irresistible little clit just calling for his attention. “My lawyer will be in contact. Don’t call me again.”

Sy could barely hear her sobs standing up to unbuckle his belt with one hand as he hovered over your frame. “Wanna talk to mommy, honey?”

He would’ve felt bad -- should’ve felt bad at the sudden silence on the other side of the line.

But he's never felt more alive.

“Mommy?”

You haven’t called her that in a long, long while. Knowing now what she thinks she knows, her suspicions, her gut-feeling mocking her for ignoring them when the evidence was all around her -- it makes her stomach drop.

The silent conversations, the giggles, the inside jokes, the subtle bordering on inappropriate touches, the world the two of you had enclosed yourselves into that she could never seem to cross.

She had been betrayed by her own blood.

“I think daddy will be getting full custody.”

I'VE NEVER SEEN A STEPDADDY SY AND DECIDED IT'S UP TO ME THE SELF PROCLAIMED #1 SY WHORE TO FIX THAT DON;T COME FOR ME I HAVE DADDY ISSUES

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money. 

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared. 

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing. 

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava. 

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest. 

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you. 

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit. 

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time. 

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed. 

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth. 

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason. 

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck. 

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend. 

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought. 

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone. 

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit. 

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible. 

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment. 

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound. 

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open. 

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time. 

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it. 

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger. 

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality. 

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military. 

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles. 

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy. 

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true. 

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. 

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his. 

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you. 

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. 

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more. 

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you. 

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight. 

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before. 

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss. 

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs. 

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. 

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it. 

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest. 

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words. 

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon. 

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time. 

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this. 

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more. 

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration. 

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment. 

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one. 

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe. 

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically. 

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same. 

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you. 

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating. 

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too. 

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected. 

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser. 

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering. 

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room. 

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up. 

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel. 

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident. 

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down. 

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view. 

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs. 

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force. 

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open. 

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body. 

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit. 

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud. 

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth. 

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples. 

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends. 

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole. 

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you. 

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time. 

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you. 

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling. 

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest. 

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm. 

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you. 

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think. 

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not. 

And fuck, do you love it. 

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now. 

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers. 

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt. 

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever. 

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke. 

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short. 

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet, 

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately. 

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against. 

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock. 

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you. 

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately. 

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again. 

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him. 

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest. 

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on  you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right. 

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up. 

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you. 

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure. 

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly. 

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs. 

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face. 

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley. 

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you. 

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved. 

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock. 

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm. 

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong. 

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips. 

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession. 

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms. 

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he. 

You couldn’t look your LT in the eye, not that you could before but now it was even worse. You knew that he knew something was wrong but you were too damn stubborn and too damn embarrassed to clear it up. You could feel those striking brown eyes staring at the back of your head as you poured yourself a coffee from the ancient coffee machine. His gaze followed you as you bypassed your usual seat next to him and instead sat beside Soap, expertly positioning your body beside the Scott as to not see your superior.

“You’re next to me today then lass?” Soap threw an arm over your shoulders, shaking you with his excitement. 

“Regrettably, yes.” You snapped back, your exhausted state only adding to the annoyance you felt around the man you called your friend. He smirked, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What’s up yer ass today?” He asked right as you took a sip of the shitty coffee causing you to choke on the dark liquid, drawing the attention of the whole table to you. Soap beamed as you coughed and for a brief moment, your focus was not on the piercing gaze of Ghost.

“Nothing! Nothing, just didn’t sleep well.” You forced your attention to the front of the room where Captain Price was beginning his morning debrief.

Getting lost in the monotonous tones of the Brit, your mind began to wander to the events of last night.

Your entire body was covered in a layer of grime and sweat, a consequence of having to test out the new training course for the recruits coming in next week. You had been chosen ‘at random’ but knew that it was because you were the youngest of the 141 and thus at the bottom of the pecking order.

All you could think about after being in the cold mud and rain for a solid three hours (you had to run through it multiple times of course to make sure it was sound) was a steaming hot shower and maybe a quick version of your skin care routine. 

Your feet dragged as you made your way to the showers, confident that you would be able to enjoy the room to yourself considering that it was nearing 1 in the morning, not hearing the gentle cascade of water already running over the sound of your own self-pity.

You beelined for your favourite stall but froze when you finally noticed the man standing under the steam. There was no question of who stood before you, the sheer size of him pointed to only one person on your squad.

Water rolled down his broad back like a river, snaking its way over scar tissue and muscle, reddening his skin with its heat. His shoulders rolled as his hands worked through his short dirty blonde hair, washing away the standard issues shampoo that clung to his locks.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift lower, settling on the pert cheeks of his ass and his strong, thick legs. Heat crawled up your neck and it was only partially because of the warm temperature of the shower. You held your breath as he turned to reach for the bar of soap sitting on the shelf beside him, exposing his profile to you.

Your eyes went wide and wetness pooled between your plump thighs. Good lord he was so-

“Pyro, we need you to run through the training course again. Ghost will help you out.” You were physically shaken from your daydream by your captain’s voice with the accompanying laugh from the man next to you. Your eyes flicked back up to your commanding officer.

“I must’ve run that thing 50 times sir. It works fine!” The older man raised an eyebrow at you before crossing his arms over his chest and levelling a disappointed look your way.

“Fine is not good enough. You’ll run it until Ghost thinks it’s enough.”

Soap, obviously finding amusement in your torment, said. “You’ll be runnin that course blindfolded if Riley has anything to do with it.” You groaned in annoyance and let your head fall to the table with a thud, ignoring the jeers of your teammates. 

The rest of the day’s tasks were dolled out and the team was quickly dismissed, leaving only you and Simon in the room. He cleared his throat but before he could speak, you shot up. “I’ll meet you down there, I gotta hit the head.”

You scrambled from the room, leaving the giant alone smirking under his balaclava. 

——————

“Faster!” Ghost barked, his voice booming between the obstacles. You growled in frustration, redoubling your efforts as you scaled the 12 ft wall in the centre of the course. You had already beaten your record three times over, yet this seemed to not be enough for your LT.

You reached for the rope at the top, your fingertips just grazing the braided fibres but right as you were about to grab for it, your other arm finally gave out after hours of work and you began to fall backwards. 

Before the scream could escape your lips, your body was cradled in something warm and comfortable. When you were sure that you hadn’t just slammed into the ground, you opened one of your eyes and came face-to-mask with Ghost.

You could tell he was smiling behind that caricature of a skull by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. You huffed and attempted to wriggle out of his arms, desperately forcing yourself not to think about how warm and fucking massive they were. “Now where ya goin there Pyro. That was a big fall, I’d hate to see ya hurt.” His voice was even deeper than normal, husky and raw. It made your cunt clench around nothing.

“I um-“ You started to say but you were quickly cut off by a tut from your superior officer.

“I think we’re done for the day Sergeant, you’ve obviously proved your… endurance.” He said the last word like it was dirty, his brown eyes growing even darker as his biceps flexed, keeping you pinned to his chest. Something in your stomach fluttered. Even holding you up to him, Ghost was still looming over you, the shadow of his bulk blocking out the sunlight that licked at his broad shoulders.

Your gaze flicked to where the black of his mask clung to his lips before you caught yourself and forced your eyes elsewhere. “Yes lieutenant.” Simon chuckled and lowered you, more gently than you would’ve thought him capable, to the dusty ground of the training area. 

“Good girl.” He purred and for a second, you thought that maybe you had actually bashed your head and now you were hallucinating. Ghost kept a paw-like hand wrapped around your elbow, preventing you from sprinting off.

“S-sir?” 

“Ya know ye aren’t as sneaky as ya think ya are Pyro. If ya wanted ta join me for a shower, ya coulda. Don’t cha deny it, could feel those pretty eyes of yours searing inta me from 50 paces.” Your heart dropped.

“Oh god sir, ‘m so sorry, it was a total accident. It’ll never happen again.” His grip tightened, making your mouth snap shut with an audible click.

“Now when did I say tha I didn’t want tha?” His head tilted, the deep brown of his eyes glinting mischievously as he lowered himself closer to your face. “How ‘bout I show ya what ya missed out on a give ya a proper reward for bein such a good little girl?” 

It was all you could do to nod your head and not collapse to the ground with a pathetic whimper. The edge of his mask shifted as he smirked down at you. 

——————

“Sorry I’m late Captain, won’t happen again.” You limped into the briefing room, dark bags marring your cheeks. Price nodded at you and continued his debrief for the day. You winced as you plopped down in the only open seat, ending up right next to Soap for the second day in a row.

“Ye look li shite.” He leaned over to you. You jabbed your index and middle fingers into his ribs, making Johnny jump slightly and earning him a glare from Price. “Jausus, Ghost musta really battered ya ta make ya so bitchy today.” 

You smirked and caught said lieutenant’s eye. “He really fucking did.” 

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Modern Warfare

@joyfulfxckery

Simon Riley

Keegan Russ:

You had been married to The Ghost for some time, you knew his job was risky and there were going to be times when you couldn't hear his voice.

You don't get nightmares often, but when you do, they wake you from a dead sleep, sometimes you wake with a scream, while other times you wake in a cold sweat.

Tonight was one of those nights though, where you woke feeling like you couldn't catch your breath.

You had tried to calm your nerves, getting a drink of water and throwing cold water on your face... Nothing was working.

Keegan is away, told you he had to be on base to get ready for a mission they leave for tomorrow morning.

You don't want to disturb him, he barely sleeps as it is and when he does, it's very little.

But right now, there is a lingering hold on your chest, that tightens at the thought of going back to sleep.

Keegan was always able to calm you down, no matter where he was... He knew how to keep the nightmares away.

So you risk it - just needing to hear his voice, even for a moment.

But first you need your comfort, you find his hoodie and a pair of his sweats and crawl onto his side of the bed, hugging his pillow tightly.

When you call, he picks up after the second ring.

"Hey sweetheart, you okay?"

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I was just waking up from a nap before I start going over things with Merrick, is everything okay?"

"Had a bad dream, and didn't have my hero to rescue me."

"Oh sweetheart, I wish I could be there... I already miss you. Did you want to talk about it?"

And so you do, you're not afraid to admit to your husband you worry for him... That one day, he wouldn't come back to you.

Keegan melts your worries away as he talks you down, promising you he will always come back to you.

You fall asleep soundly to the sound of his voice, and dream of the day he comes back to you. <3

Ghost:

Simon is on leave, when your nightmare happens.

You don't have nightmares often, and honestly don't dream much either.

But tonight had been bad.

You wake with a scream, tears fresh on your eyes as you sit up and search frantically for your husband.

"Simon?!"

There is a rush of footsteps as your door opens, and you find your husband rushing to your side.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm right here," Simon sits beside you, cupping your face gently in his hands.

"You weren't there," you take a deep breath, holding his wrist needing as much contact with him as you can get.

"I'm right here, I'm not leaving you."

It takes awhile before you are able to calm down long enough for you both to lay down.

Simon pulls you to his chest, holding you tightly so you can hear his heartbeat.

"What do you need, love?"

"Talk to me... Your voice calms me down."

And so he does, he talks to you about anything and everything that comes to mind, hands mindlessly tracing small circles across your back.

He feels your body going slack, and knows you have finally fallen asleep.

He presses a kiss to your head, "I'll always keep the nightmares away."

----

Keegan has been running himself to the bone, he's exhausted, and overworked... He is cranky and snippy.... Merrick has granted him and you a few days leave.

At first it take Keegan a few days to get adjusted to sleeping on his big comfy bed.

Keegan doesn't know how to ask for time to just him and you... Keegan is more expressive in action rather than words... But you know your man, and know you need to take action.

It's on the third night, when you can finally get a good look at Keegan and see just how tired he is.

The purple bags under his eyes stand out like a sore thumb, and every other minute he is yawning.

Time for Operation Cuddles.

You've pulled all the strings to make this a perfect night...

It's raining outside, the thunderstorm is loud and windy, while lightening cracks in the faint distance.

This is the kind of weather, you and Keegan prefer over all.

The washing is done, bedding smells like rain and lavender; you've pulled all the best pillows and blankets, while music plays in the background.

Keegan steps out of the shower, letting his sweats hang low on his narrow waist.

Any other given moment, you would want to jump his bones and make love into the early morning hours, but tonight is about him.

You're laying in bed, snuggled deep into your black and red duvet, opening your arms to Keegan to invite him into your cocoon.

Keegan doesn't argue, you look so warm and welcoming.

Keegan slides into your embrace, his muscles relaxing under your touch.

It's not long before Keegan is fading into a peaceful night slumber, as you caress his bare back, and brush his wild hair from his eyes.

You press a small kiss to his forehead, "Get some sleep my love."

And he does... The best sleep he has had in a long time.

----

all of these men love a good little brat, whether it's because they like the behaviour or like breaking them in.

Gaz likes playing with brats, he thinks the defiance us actually adorable. hes not the type to punish the behaviour in the classical sense, he's a pleasure dom through and through; to your demise. you think it's funny mouthing off to him, until you're tied to his bed, legs spread and stuffed to the brim with toys and fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit/cock, suckling away as youre crying from pleasure. "what's the matter honey?" he coos far too sweetly. "not enjoying yourself?"

Price is more one for classical punishments, more than happily bending you over his lap and giving you a good, hard spanking to keep you in check. "you're not getting off my lap until you learned your lesson, love." he hums in his gruff voice, mercilessly connecting his hand wirh your ass over and over until its bright red. he's an old fashioned man, naturally this isn't over. has you standing in the corner, tied up and red ass on display as he just eyes you with satisfaction. "you stand there and rethink if you wanna keep breaking rules."

Soap thinks your disobedience is funny. he's not a rules guy, he likes the fight you have in you. always egging you on, almost encouraging the disobedience, even if it's just to see you punished by the others. but don't think he'll just let anything slide, oh no. its all fun and games until you decide to overstep what he's willing to put up with, you know you fucked up when he's suddenly looming over you, holding your chin tightly. "watch that dirty little mouth of yours now, or I'll make sure nothing leaves those bratty lips of yours anytime soon."

all of these men love a good little brat, whether it's because they like the behaviour or like breaking them in.

Gaz likes playing with brats, he thinks the defiance us actually adorable. hes not the type to punish the behaviour in the classical sense, he's a pleasure dom through and through; to your demise. you think it's funny mouthing off to him, until you're tied to his bed, legs spread and stuffed to the brim with toys and fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit/cock, suckling away as youre crying from pleasure. "what's the matter honey?" he coos far too sweetly. "not enjoying yourself?"

Price is more one for classical punishments, more than happily bending you over his lap and giving you a good, hard spanking to keep you in check. "you're not getting off my lap until you learned your lesson, love." he hums in his gruff voice, mercilessly connecting his hand wirh your ass over and over until its bright red. he's an old fashioned man, naturally this isn't over. has you standing in the corner, tied up and red ass on display as he just eyes you with satisfaction. "you stand there and rethink if you wanna keep breaking rules."

Soap thinks your disobedience is funny. he's not a rules guy, he likes the fight you have in you. always egging you on, almost encouraging the disobedience, even if it's just to see you punished by the others. but don't think he'll just let anything slide, oh no. its all fun and games until you decide to overstep what he's willing to put up with, you know you fucked up when he's suddenly looming over you, holding your chin tightly. "watch that dirty little mouth of yours now, or I'll make sure nothing leaves those bratty lips of yours anytime soon."

all of these men love a good little brat, whether it's because they like the behaviour or like breaking them in.

Gaz likes playing with brats, he thinks the defiance us actually adorable. hes not the type to punish the behaviour in the classical sense, he's a pleasure dom through and through; to your demise. you think it's funny mouthing off to him, until you're tied to his bed, legs spread and stuffed to the brim with toys and fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit/cock, suckling away as youre crying from pleasure. "what's the matter honey?" he coos far too sweetly. "not enjoying yourself?"

Price is more one for classical punishments, more than happily bending you over his lap and giving you a good, hard spanking to keep you in check. "you're not getting off my lap until you learned your lesson, love." he hums in his gruff voice, mercilessly connecting his hand wirh your ass over and over until its bright red. he's an old fashioned man, naturally this isn't over. has you standing in the corner, tied up and red ass on display as he just eyes you with satisfaction. "you stand there and rethink if you wanna keep breaking rules."

Soap thinks your disobedience is funny. he's not a rules guy, he likes the fight you have in you. always egging you on, almost encouraging the disobedience, even if it's just to see you punished by the others. but don't think he'll just let anything slide, oh no. its all fun and games until you decide to overstep what he's willing to put up with, you know you fucked up when he's suddenly looming over you, holding your chin tightly. "watch that dirty little mouth of yours now, or I'll make sure nothing leaves those bratty lips of yours anytime soon."