#with sugar on top

[atrociousgargamelitis]

"Oh, you're so quiet, do you have something on your mind?"

How do I explain to my poor mother that I was just thinking about how Stolas is a domestic abuse survivor and even though it deeply affects the way he acts towards Blitzø, it's never acknowledged, neither by the characters that interact with him nor by half the fandom-

[iluvreid]

The way i would SELL MY SOUL to bake with Penelope Garcia is indescribable. Cookies, brownies, cakes, breads, gimme everything PLEASE

[shitfacedalways]

is it cake?

[coreybass84]

https://spankbang.com/50pqr/video/various+clips+of+big+boobed+ashley+juggs+remastered

Issue two of my comic is up on Drivethrucomics.com.  Book of Heretics: The Little Death.  So hopefully, I’ll actually get the attention of someone here and they’ll see these samples and buy it and want to see more.  Or something.  I don’t know.

[scap34]

sub! bottom! sugarbaby! Toji x top! mean! manipulative! sugar daddy! sadistic! male!reader

warning: cussing, dirty talk, degrading, praising, sex

Fucking away your sugar baby’s bad habits <3

“A narcissistic, rude, temperamental,” you said grunting, rutting your hip against him with each word. Pistoning your cock into his warm hole, aiming right for his prostate sending him into a state of bliss. Cries and moans leaving his swollen lips. 

The defiance in his expression disappeared without a trace. He had no comeback other than sweet whining and begging to cum. 

“Slut,” you smirked and thrusted into him harder, bending him forward. His knees almost touching the mattress, calves trembling in your hold. You folded him, until his eyes met you, laying flat with his hole in the air. 

You grinned staring into his watery eyes. You weren’t even sure if that dumb whore could understand you, his eyes glazed over utterly pliant under your touch. 

Pressing your cock back into his loose hole you fucked him into the mattress, holding him roughly in position. Your eyes locked on his flushed, desperate face. 

You felt your orgasm building in your stomach, his pathetic cock twitching with pearly drops of precum. You wiped his pre cum up with your fingers and shoved it into his open mouth. He whined around your fingers, hot silky mouth immediately sucking on the digits. 

“However,” his pleasure addled mind must have registered something other than your cock fucking into his stomach. He looked up at you with a slight question. You could see a hint of trepidation behind the question. 

Fuck, it was prefect. Your sweet cock whore, so fucking worried about disappointing you. You could fuck it out of him. You will. 

You pull your cock out and slam it back into his hole. He gasped, his whole body trembling with pleasure. The question in his eyes disappeared, moans slipping out his mouth from around your fingers. 

“You take my cock so well, almost like,” you leaned in whispering against his ear. “You were made for it.” He whined and when he realized he couldn’t speak around your fingers, frantically nodded his head. His hole clung to your cock, as if he never wanted you to leave his body. 

You chuckled and continued your brutal pace, whispering degrading phases wrapped with praise. 

“Such a dumb bitch, only meant to be filled with cum. Gonna fill you up, baby. Nice and good. But you're still gonna come crying for my cock tomorrow aren’t you? Pathetic bitch. I should just keep my cock in you all the time.” 

Toji’s mind was filled with only two thoughts: yes and more. 

He was a broken mess of sobs and cut off whining. Saliva dribbled down his mouth, your fingers forcing his mouth open. 

He wanted to cum. He wanted to cum so fucking bad. He wanted you to cum in him, leave your mark deep in his guts.

Another deep thrust and you were cumming. He cried out as his own cock spurted out cum over you and his own stomach. His sharp teeth accidentally nipping your finger. 

Metallic blood, your blood, filled his mouth. He greedily sucked on your finger. You barely even felt the wound, pulling out your finger, you wiped your blood against his lips, painting them red like lipstick. 

He looked beautiful.

You pulled your cock out of him, watching it drip down his ass and onto his stomach. Smiling, you kissed his lips, lazily pulling back when you both ran out of air. 

“5 stars would fuck again.” He took a minute to process the statement. Then flushed darker than when you fucked him. 

You let his calves go with an affectionate squeeze. Rolling your shoulders, you reached over to the bed stand hiding a smirk. Pulling out your black card you held it out for him. “Good job. Go get yourself a treat.” 

You fucking piece of shit. He glared at the card then at your smug face. The effect of his glare was ruined by his cum covered body, the marks you left on his body and the way your blood stained his lips, smudged like lipstick. 

To you, he looked adorable like a wet kitten pretending to be tough. You held back your smile and frowned, urging him to take the card. 

“Well?” He glared at you harder, unconsciously tugging the sheets under him to cover his body from your cold impersonal gaze. The cum on his body, and sweat sticking to his skin, making him cold in a way he hadn’t felt. 

“Sorry,” his voice was hoarse, gruffer than usual. You didn’t feel threatened by his glare or him. His eyes were averted from yours, hands clenching the satin sheet as he sat up. 

It was clear he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. He just wanted your affection again. After sex wouldn’t you take care of him like before? He wanted to lay in your arms, spoiled and pampered under your touch, as you cleaned him up. 

He sucked in a deep breath and moved forward, crawling towards you with the grace of a big cat. He nuzzled his face against your hand and looked at your with a dependent gaze. 

“Take care of me?” Your baby exceeded your expectations. Your eyes widened briefly before you pulled him close to you. Kisses pressed into his hair, and all over his face. Your arms wrapped around him pulling him flush against your warm body. 

You had just wanted him to make him regret being a cold asshole, just a bit. Withholding aftercare and treating him like a prostitute seemed like a good idea. But Toji’s hurt eyes, begging for affection hit your heart.

“Yes. Fuck. I’m sorry. Love you. So fucking perfect.” You babbled as you smothered him with affection. He gladly leaned into your touch and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. 

“Love you too.” He mumbled against your skin, breathing in your scent. Don’t ever leave him. You were his and he was yours.

[roosterforme]

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

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

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

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

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

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

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

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

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

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

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@local-spidey

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@glenpowellluver

[clovreat3r]

I want to nail him to my wall

did you know that pyro is me

[colinarmistead]

recent unfinished doodles

[lazylittledragon]

creme brulee flavoured donuts were pretty fucking ambitious because i've never made donuts or pastry cream before but SUCCESS

[hyunpic]

🧡🧡

[mblue-art]

the taste-testing went... well..? let's... try mocha next time...

extra under the cut !

starring @inkz123 ! they wanted to dive into his cup hehehe

[angelasscribbles]

Ah, I know it’s going to be trauma filled, but I’m still excited for it! Also, getting a glimpse into their baggage will likely explain a lot. So….Let’s do this!!!

Bertrand sent him into the greenhouse to hide. 

Ahhh…protective Bertrand! Protecting Max and taking the blame like that.

And holy shit, Barthelemy sounds like an abusive fuck!!!

Bertrand was transported three years into the future, to the night after his mother died. With his arms wrapped around a sobbing Maxwell, he tried to keep a stiff upper lip. He needed to be strong despite the gaping hole in his heart. He had to be there for his brother, because now they had no one else.

You are killing me with this Bertrand! Always taking the brunt of everything to protect his brother!!!!

all Bertrand could do was close his eyes tightly, thankful that it was him instead of Maxwell.

I’m actually, for real, literally crying right now!!!!

The image melted away, revealing one of Bertrand’s worst memories ever..

Jesus christ, it gets worse?

Thankfully it hadn't been too difficult to convince Barthelemy to send Maxwell away to year round boarding school. And Bertrand’s college graduation coincided with Maxwell’s high school graduation, so everything worked out. After the ceremony, Bertrand went searching for his brother, who had slipped away with a friend. 

Oh my gosh! Protecting his brother really is his whole mission in life! He is so sweet and good and strong. UGH. Now I’m in love with him!!!

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect him. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her. 

“I'm so sorry Riley!” Bertrand yelled through his sobs, watching her struggle. She needed help. She needed him.

And he couldn’t protect her.

This…. This is amazing! I can feel his panic and pain and helplessness!! This is a perfect rendition of a horrible nightmare, ground in real trauma and filled with anxiety and self doubt about the present and future.

It was soooo emotional, you did such a great job showing us that, not just telling us about it! I can feel it so much that it actually hurts lol. Yes, it made me sad but it’s the hallmark of an excellent writer that you can make us feel that!!

I love how the dream switched from actual memories of Max to imagined ones of Riley. This really drives home how he feels about her. It puts her in the same category as the person he loves most in the world and underscores his desire to protect her.

Despite the embarrassment at what Riley had possibly witnessed, he was so relieved that she was safe. The fresh memory of his horrible nightmares came rushing back to him and he returned her embrace, letting himself be held and comforted. 

I’m going to die from the sweet, fluffiness of this scene!!

The feeling of her fingernails gliding across his back and the steady sound of her heartbeat as he lay his head against her chest, instantly set him at peace.

Oh yeah, he’s in love.

Bertrand spent his life trying to protect me from him.. Which means he got the brunt of dads wrath most of the time.”

And I’m crying again at the trauma of it all!!! Not kidding, I'm using all these crying gifs and Tumblr keeps asking if I'm okay!

Now it just happens when he gets really stressed out, which is almost always right before the court comes for the Bash.”

Makes sense!

“Affection is a sign of weakness according to dear old dad.”

Didn’t think I could hate him more, but here we are….

For Barthelemy:

He shook his head sadly, “So anyway, when this happens I just put Bertrand in the bed with me and hug him so he knows he’s ok and I’m ok, and he's not alone.”

Oh my gosh! The love between these two brothers is amazing even though what they’ve been through is heart rending! Riley be like....

“Why do you think?” Max patted her hand sadly

Ah, Max knows what’s up.

Bertrand closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes. I do.”

Ah, he closes himself off because he’s had to be strong and stoic his whole life. He protected his brother’s more open personality at his own expense, took all the responsibility and blame for everything onto himself. Of course he’s closed off and doesn’t know how to open up, admit to his feelings or show her how he really feels. And probably feels unworthy of her affection to boot, thanks to dear old dad.

That’s a lot to overcome.

But she called him baby and sat up all night comforting him.

She loves him too.

I can’t wait for the next chapter!!!!!

Never Have I Ever

Chapter 11 - Demons From the Past - Part 2

Book- TRR

Series- Never Have I Ever

Pairings- Bertrand x MC 

Chapter Synopsis- Bertrand relives his past through nightmares.

Chapter Warnings- language, physical and emotional abuse, child abuse, violence, death

Rating - Mature

Word Count- 3,000

A/N- This chapter is pretty heavy as we get a glimpse into Bertrand and Maxwell's past family trauma. Please see warnings above.

————————————————————

..He turned on the TV in an attempt to drown out his intrusive thoughts regarding a certain woman who was sleeping a mere two doors away, and eventually drifted off into a restless sleep…

Chapter 11 - Demons From the Past - Part 2

Bertrand cowered on the floor of his playroom, looking up into the disdainful eyes of his father. The crystal squid statue in the foyer was in hundreds of pieces, and his father would ensure he’d never see the light of day again. The older man shook his head at his son, “What did I tell you boys about playing your infantile games in the house?! You’re nine years old now, Bertrand! Grow up!”

Bertrand apologized but his father yelled over him. “Enough! Where is Maxwell? I know he had a hand in this as well!” Bertrand didn’t dare to reveal his younger brother’s hiding place. As soon as Max had accidentally knocked down the statue, Bertrand sent him into the greenhouse to hide. 

“He didn’t have anything to do with this.. it was all me. I’m sorry father, it was an accident.” 

Barthelemy grabbed Bertrand’s arm and jerked him up roughly. “You are going to learn, son. All accidents come with a price.”

Bertrand was transported three years into the future, to the night after his mother died. With his arms wrapped around a sobbing Maxwell, he tried to keep a stiff upper lip. He needed to be strong despite the gaping hole in his heart. He had to be there for his brother, because now they had no one else.

Berthelemy staggered into the boy's bedroom, holding a nearly empty tumbler of scotch. “Quit your blubbering, it won’t bring her back,” he slurred as he glared at Maxwell. 

Bertrand immediately stood and walked past his father and out of the bedroom. There was only one way to stop Barthelemy when he started his drunken rants.

“You need to suck it up, Maxwell.. You’re a Beaumont for God's sake! I swear, I don’t know how I ended up with the world's biggest pussies for sons. Although I suppose your mother is to blame for that. It's a good thing she's-” 

Crash!

Barthelemy whirled around and saw a shattered bottle of scotch at his feet, amber liquid and glass covering the surrounding tile. Bertrand’s heart hammered in his chest as his father’s ire turned to him. Rage filled the older man’s eyes and Bertrand ran, knowing he would be close behind. 

“You son of a bitch, get back here!” Barthelemy yelled, running as fast as he could in his inebriated state. Once Bertrand had gotten far enough away from Maxwell’s bedroom, he stopped and faced his father. There was no use running, and there was nowhere he could hide. Barthelemy cocked his fist and all Bertrand could do was close his eyes tightly, thankful that it was him instead of Maxwell.

Four years later, sixteen year old Bertrand sat behind the wheel of his father’s Aston Martin, massaging his sore neck. The driver behind him swore she had put on her brakes, but the enormous dent in his bumper suggested otherwise. Bertrand only hoped that his father would be more forgiving if he found out about the accident in front of the police. Barthelemy pulled up to the scene in his black Rolls-Royce ten minutes later. “Oh, my son.. Are you alright?” he asked with what sounded like genuine concern. 

“Yes, sir.” Bertrand nodded and Barthelemy spoke politely to the police officers before returning to his son’s side. 

“Get your ass in the car,” he muttered under his breath and Bertrand obeyed immediately. Once the scene had been cleared and his father’s wrecked car was towed away, Barthelemy slid into the driver's seat. “I let you take my car, and you decided to go joyriding.” 

Bertrand shook his head, “No sir, I just wanted to get some extra practice! The driver behind me ran into me, it wasn’t my fault!” 

Berthelemy slammed his palm against the dash and Bertrand jumped, “A real man takes responsibility for his actions!” 

Bertrand looked down, not daring to say another word. The engine roared to life and Barthelemy took off like a shot. “Were you racing some other punk when you crashed my two hundred and fifty thousand pound car?”

“No sir! I wouldn’t-” 

His father cut him off with a forced laugh, “You think you’re an adult, is that it? You can do whatever you want? Well, go ahead and take the wheel, son.”

“What?!” 

Bertrand watched in horror as his father let go of the steering wheel while the car continued down the road at an alarming speed. “Go on then.. Take the wheel, Bertrand. Show me how it’s done.” 

Bertrand looked between his father and the road as the car began to drift toward the shoulder. “What are you doing?! I swear I didn’t mean to wreck the car!” 

Barthelemy casually put his arms behind his head and pushed the gas pedal down harder. “Come on, Bertrand. I said, show me how it’s done.” 

The car shook as it drifted onto the shoulder, gravel spraying wildly behind it. They were running out of straight road, and fast. Bertrand’s heart was hammering in his chest. Was his father really about to let them crash and die to teach him a lesson? A turn was fast approaching and Bertrand grabbed the steering wheel, preparing to save their lives. 

Barthelemy slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop, fishtailing slightly as it did so. “You arrogant motherfucker!” Barthelemy yelled at his teenage son. “Thought you’d just take over my car, didn't you?!” He threw the car in park and rushed around to the passenger door, yanking it open and pulling Bertrand out. He tossed his son to the ground and landed a sharp kick against his ribs. “You can walk home since you're such a big man now!” 

Bertrand coughed and held his aching side, calling out after his father who was making his way back to the driver side. “Please.. It’s almost dark out. I don’t even know where we are!” 

Once Barthelemy was back inside, he locked the car doors and cracked the window slightly. “Guess we’ll see how long it takes you to figure it out.” 

Bertrand lunged for the passenger door, but as soon as his fingers grasped the handle, his father sped away, leaving his son laying on the ground in a cloud of dust.

The image melted away, revealing one of Bertrand’s worst memories ever.. years later at his college graduation. His father and Maxwell sat three rows back, smiling at him while he received his diploma on stage and gave a speech. He had graduated at the top of his class and been named valedictorian. Initially Bertrand wasn't even sure if he would be able to attend college, since there was no way he could leave Maxwell alone with his father while he wasn’t there to protect him. Thankfully it hadn't been too difficult to convince Barthelemy to send Maxwell away to year round boarding school. And Bertrand’s college graduation coincided with Maxwell’s high school graduation, so everything worked out. After the ceremony, Bertrand went searching for his brother, who had slipped away with a friend. 

A minute later, he noticed Maxwell’s friend running full steam out of a hallway. Bertrand headed in that direction and heard the unmistakable sound of his father ranting. 

“Smoking pot at your brother’s graduation?! Are you fucking insane?! Do you know how many important people are here?!” Barthelemy berated Maxwell from a room at the end of the hall. “God, it’s no wonder your grades were so piss poor! You know you wouldn’t even have made it through high school if I hadn’t paid them off!” 

Bertrand hurried toward the scene before his father could do any more harm to his younger brother. 

He was too late. Bertrand heard the telltale smack of his father’s hand connecting with Maxwell’s cheek.  

“Dad, I’m sorry! It was just one time!” Max cried, before another slap rang out. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Another slap. 

Bertrand broke out in a run and found them in a janitor's supply closet. His father was dragging Maxwell toward the door by his shirt collar. 

“Father, please,” Bertrand tried to reason with him. “He made a mistake. He���s just a kid!”

“This is none of your business, Bertrand. Get the hell out of here!” Barthelemy shoved Bertrand backwards and he landed on the linoleum floor in the hallway. Barthelemy slammed the supply room door shut with himself and Maxwell inside, locking it with a click.

Bertrand banged on the heavy wooden door, pleading with his father to stop the assault. He threw his shoulder into it several times in an attempt to break it down to no avail.

“You are going to learn not to disgrace our name again!” His father yelled at Maxwell, and a loud crash immediately followed. 

“Stop!” Bertrand cried out, watching through the narrow window with tear filled eyes. “Stop, god dammit!” The door wouldn’t budge no matter how many times he threw his body into it. He pounded on the door in frustration, helpless tears streaming down his cheeks. “I'm sorry, Maxwell.. I’m so sorry.”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect him. 

The image before him swirled and transformed and suddenly, instead of Maxwell cowering on the floor, it was Riley. His father struck her across the cheek and she screamed. 

“No!” Bertrand called out, his heart pounding as he threw his entire body into the wooden door, desperately trying to get to her. Yet his father continued, no matter how much he screamed and begged him to stop. With no other options, Bertrand decided to run for help, but found his feet were suddenly impossibly heavy, and his legs frozen in place. There was nothing he could do.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t protect her. 

He swiped away his tears and suddenly it wasn’t his father in the room with Riley- it was Tariq. Bertrand watched in horror as Tariq pulled Riley to him, kissing her forcefully while she squirmed, trying to get away. Bertrand yelled and pounded on the door until his knuckles bled. “Let go of her!” 

Tariq turned back toward Bertrand with a smirk before returning his attention to Riley’s now naked body. 

“I'm so sorry Riley!” Bertrand yelled through his sobs, watching her struggle. She needed help. She needed him.

And he couldn’t protect her.

Bertrand gasped as he was thrust back into wakefulness. He was drenched in sweat, his heart was pounding, his chest hurt, his stomach was in knots, and tears dampened his cheeks.. Yet his body was surrounded by the most amazing warmth and feeling of security. Once he got his barings, he realized that he was in Riley’s room, laying in her bed with his head in her lap. She was rubbing her hand across his back soothingly, whispering something comforting that he couldn’t make out. 

He sat up quickly and saw Maxwell was asleep in a chair across from the bed. The faint orange glow of sunrise shone through a crack in the curtain, slightly illuminating the dark room. Panic began to set in when he realized what must have happened. “How did I get in here?” he asked hesitantly.

“Hey, hey..” Riley whispered, taking hold of his arm and pulling him back down beside her on the bed. “It’s ok, Bert, don’t worry about it.” She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pulled him close to her body again. “I’ve got you. You’re ok.”

Despite the embarrassment at what Riley had possibly witnessed, he was so relieved that she was safe. The fresh memory of his horrible nightmares came rushing back to him and he returned her embrace, letting himself be held and comforted. 

She whispered, “I’ve got you.” The feeling of her fingernails gliding across his back and the steady sound of her heartbeat as he lay his head against her chest, instantly set him at peace. She kissed the top of his head, and used the sleeve of her hoodie to dry his face. 

“Riley?” He asked, breathing in her comforting scent while she continued to caress his back soothingly.

“Yes?” Her hand stilled briefly and she leaned forward to look down at him.

“Did.. Did Maxwell tell you about.. this?”

She sighed and hugged him tightly against her body. “Ya.. a little.”

Three hours prior..

An insistent knocking at her bedroom door woke Riley with a start. 3:00 am. Throwing open the door in panic, she found Bertrand standing in the darkened hallway outside of her bedroom, swaying slightly. “Bertrand!? Are you ok?”

He just stood there trembling with his arms wrapped around himself.

“Bert?”

Suddenly he choked out a sob and reached out to hold her tightly. “Oh!” Riley gasped in surprise. 

His body shook as he sobbed against her. “I’m so sorry, Riley.. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled over and over, and although she was baffled, she immediately returned his embrace.

Riley was speechless as she helped him make his way over to her bed. She turned on a lamp and his eyes fluttered shut but when he opened them again, it was as if he was looking straight through her. Realization washed over her and she helped him sit beside her. 

“Oh, Bert.” 

He rested his head against her shoulder and she wrapped one arm around him, using her other hand to dial Max.

“Damn it.” Max frowned as he entered her room, taking in the sight before him. “I should have known this would happen.”

“He’s sleepwalking, right?” Riley whispered, her arm still protectively wrapped around Bertrand.

“Ya.” 

“I’ve never seen him do this in all the months I’ve been here.. Why did you say you should have known it would happen?”

Maxwell sighed sadly, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Tell me.. please?” Riley asked. 

Bertrand had settled into what appeared to be a restful sleep, and Max helped him lay down on Riley’s bed. He put a comforting hand on his older brother's shoulder while he spoke quietly. “So.. growing up, our dad was always a real dick. Like a really, really shitty person. Bertrand spent his life trying to protect me from him.. Which means he got the brunt of dads wrath most of the time.”

“Oh God.” Riley’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth, “Did he.. I mean.. hit you both?”

“Emotional and physical abuse were his forte but he was also a textbook narcissist. He never shied away from telling and showing us how disappointed he was in us. Seems fucked up to say, but I’m thankful dad’s in a coma. The only thing better would have been if he actually died. Me and Bert have seen some of the best therapists around and it’s helped a lot, but.. he fucked Bertrand up really bad. It’s taken him years to stop having nightmares every night. Now it just happens when he gets really stressed out, which is almost always right before the court comes for the Bash.”

Riley’s heart ached for both of them, but especially for the grown man who always prided himself on being the stoic leader of House Beaumont, whose body was once again starting to shake from quiet sobs. 

“I don’t know what to say.. I’m so sorry.”

She placed her hand over Maxwell’s, which was still resting on Bertrand’s back. “Thanks,” Max replied with a sad smile.

“Does he remember this when he wakes up in the morning?”

“He does, mostly.” Maxwell nodded. “Although he never wants to talk about it. He usually sleepwalks to my room in tears, and apologizes over and over because he feels like he didn’t protect me enough. It’s also the only time he ever says he loves me. I blame dad for that too.” Max rolled his eyes, “Affection is a sign of weakness according to dear old dad.” He shook his head sadly, “So anyway, when this happens I just put Bertrand in the bed with me and hug him so he knows he’s ok and I’m ok, and he's not alone.”

Riley’s eyes welled up with tears, and she tried to discreetly wipe them away. “Max.. why do you think he came to my room tonight instead of yours?”

“Why do you think?” Max patted her hand sadly, and Riley swallowed down the lump in her throat as more tears fell from her eyes. "You can go sleep in my room tonight, Ri. I’ll take care of him.”

“No,” she swallowed hard while she looked at Bertrand curled up in her bed. “I want to stay with him.”

“Are you sure?”

Riley nodded, “Absolutely.”

“Ok,” Max dropped into a chair across the room, “but I’ll stay too, in case he gets really upset again.”

Riley lay on the pillows next to Bertrand and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve got you, baby,” she whispered and rubbed his back soothingly until his breathing became rhythmic and calm. After about thirty minutes Maxwell drifted off to sleep but Riley remained awake, occasionally murmuring words of comfort.

Present..

Bertrand cringed in humiliation, knowing that Riley had to witness him in such a pathetic state. It was bad enough when he woke up in Maxwell's room after he had these nightmares, curled up against him like a helpless child. Riley would probably never talk to him again after this. 

“I am so sorry. I’ve inconvenienced you terribly,” Bertrand apologized, and sat up. “I.. I need to go.”

“Wait,” She took his arm to keep him from leaving. “You didn’t inconvenience me. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” That was the last thing he wanted to do. What he really wanted to do was fall into a hole forever.

“Are you sure? Talking can help sometimes, and I’m worried about you.”

“No, I’m fine,” his reply was more harsh than he intended. “Sorry, but I’d really rather just forget this ever happened.”

“You know you don’t always have to shoulder everything alone.”

Bertrand closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes. I do.”

[elllisaaa]

my head is empty

i swear to god this man HAS to stop because i'm going fucking insane over how good he looks. he's out of this world, really

imagine SUGAR DADDY!SUNGHOON who's spoiling you all the time. he's rich and successful, and he wants to spend all his money on you only because he can.

every night when he comes home and you welcome him by kissing his cheek and asking him how his day went, he's overwhelmed with the need to worship every little part of you and your body. he lets you serve him dinner and eat with him, but after that, the rest of the night is all about you and what you want. sunghoon is kissing and marking your skin, giving you everything you need and more, giving you his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

"you're perfect for me doll, such a good girl."

and the fact that you're existing and that you're his is enough for sunghoon to buy you gifts, often very expensive because his girl deserves only the best. and don't ever think about paying anything on your own - his card and bank account are yours and you can have anything you want as long as you pay with his money. sunghoon wants you to know that you can have whatever you've ever wanted and that he will make every one of your dreams come true. and knowing that you're wearing things that he payed for is enough for him.

"i did some shopping today hoonie ! you wanna see ?" - "always pretty girl, show me what you got."

he will 100% buy you lingerie sets, asking you to try all of them on and then picking out the one he likes the most to fuck you in it. and if he rips it off, his only answer is : "don't worry about it, i'll buy you another one. just let me ruin your pretty cunt, doll." and sunghoon also loves to dress you up, picking out the most expensive dresses and outfits for you and matching with them so when you go out you look all dolled up for him. and then after your night out, he fucks you in his sport car, not caring about the price of the leather of the seats he's making you squirt into. and it's even better if you're only wearing the jewellery he bought for you by the end of it.

"who do you belong to, doll ?" - "you, hoon, i'm only yours."

[rodolfoparras]

SO I JUST GOT OUT OF THE FNAF MOVIE

mike is Most definitely a man who whimpers

he buries his head into the pillow, soft sobbing because he hasn't felt this good in so long while you softly stroke his cock and/or finger him while whispering praises into his ear

-🌷

Ok but hear me out…

Brat!mike who loves to rile you up with his mouth and will only ever shut up once you shove your cock down his throat, forcing him to keep you inside his mouth for as long as possible, til his jaw aches, throat burns and there’s a puddle of drool on the floor. Another way to shut him up is to grip his throat while he rides your cock, you’ll watch the stubbornness bled away from his eyes and get replaced with desperation as he furiously taps at your thigh.

Brat!mike who likes it rough, whether it be having little to no prep, blowjobs that will have tears spilling down his cheeks and face turning visibly red or til it feels like he’s being speared onto your dick, will even let you put mascara and lipstick on him just so that he can visibly see how you’ve ruined him

Brat!Mike who’ll prevent any noises from escaping his lips as you’re fucking him. Even with ropes of cum painted all over his stomach and hole all puffy and red he still won’t tell you how good you’re making him feel. You can even have him tied up while holding a vibrator against his dick and he’ll still manage to stay silent as a mouse, which only manages to drive you crazy

Brat! Mike who’ll purposely stop while in the middle of giving you a blow job or while riding you just to tease, only for you to yank at his hair or hips and shove him back down onto your dick

Brat!mike who loves to rile you up just so that you can have heated make up sex, will even go as far as to moan the name of someone else while you got your fingers or cock buried inside him, wont stop with his little act til you’ve fucked him so dumb he can no longer speak or think

Brat!mike who’s alright with being denied orgasms but loses his mind at being denied a kiss, you’ll have him whining and whimpering within seconds to put your lips on his.

[fullcravings]

Blueberry Buckle With Brown Sugar Topping

[scap34]

sugar daddy! sub! bottom! Gojo Satoru x sugar baby! top! dom! male!reader

warning: cussing, smoking, inappropriate touching, dirty talk

Your sugar daddy wants your attention <3

“Can you give me just an hour?” Satoru practically begged. His body angled towards you, his hands clenched the sheets like it was taking all his effort to not reach over and touch you.

You let out a puff of smoke and smiled which he instinctively sucked in a breath to avoid breathing the smoke. You took another long drag from the cig, relishing in the way his expression twisted with desperation. 

You smiled and leaned down, blowing out the white smoke on his face. He coughed, giving you a distressed look, but stayed still. 

“Another 100,000 yen.” he nodded instantly, eagerly looking at you with bright blue eyes. “Well? Lay down.” 

He shuffled back, looking at you as he spread his legs apart. His half-hard cock already pressing his pants. He palmed himself and let out a whine.

He was tempting you, seducing you. But you knew that. 

You let out a breath of smoke and crushed the lit part of your cigarette and tossed it to the side without looking at it. Reaching over and you grabbed Satoru’s pale bony ankle and pulled him to you. 

He let out a soft moan, pupils blown with lust. He looked content to be manhandled by you. 

His white hair was shattered across the stain black sheets. The expensive kind that slid off his skin like butter. The ones you knew he brought for you. 

You smirked and caressed his cheek with the back of your fingers. His eyes fluttered shut and he rubbed his cheek against your fingers. The very picture of a content cat. 

“Satoru,” you cooed sweetly. He looked  up at you, six eyes soft and gentle. He looked at you as if you were everything to him.

“Hm?” You smiled gently. A bit of surprise filled his eyes, quickly followed by greed, drinking in the curve of your smile. His eyes shone with inhuman intensity. 

Your smile became more genuine, darker, fueled by his possessiveness. “Want me to fuck you?” He inhaled sharply, eyes meeting your own. 

“Yes.” He rocked his hips, with a moan. “Yes, please. Fuck me, [name].” He pleaded shamelessly. 

You licked your dry lips and kneeled on the mattress, your hands wrapping around Satoru’s thighs, as you slotted your body against his. His ass pressing against your hardening cock.  

He rolled his ass against you, whining when you tighten your grip on his thighs. Your fingers dug into the soft flesh, leaving bruises. Bruises that made heat pool in his stomach, your marks making him lightheaded.

“So fucking eager. Can’t wait to fuck your tight ass, sweetheart.” Your hands deftly undid his pants, teasing his cock as you pulled his zipper down. 

Soft pink lips let out honeyed moans. Sprawled across the black sheets, like a fallen angel begging to be sinned. His flushed hard erection, begging to be touched, twitching as you rub the head of his cock. 

He opened his mouth and looked up at you through snow white lashes. “Anything you want.”