Brett Richards going around and checking Reader's smoke detectors for fresh batteries after they sleep together the first time. Reader gets up to clean up and when she leaves the bathroom she sees the bed is empty. So, she's like "this mf really hit it and left without saying anything? Asshole."
But then she hears her smoke detector go off in her kitchen and Brett is just there in his boxers on a step stool checking the batteries. When she asks him wtf he's doing. He's telling her how many fires he's responded to where people didn't have fresh batteries in their smoke detectors...
It's his form of aftercare okay...check Reader's apartment for fire safety hazards. It's how he shows love.
For the entirety of your relationship, you've known that Andrew is a sub leaning switch. He doesn't do dominance. Not really. The closest he gets to it is occasionally telling you what to do.
You're happy with your sex life, but there's something about when he submits fully to you that you can't get enough of.
Andrew's bigger than you, in terms of muscle mass. Taller. Stronger. Imposing in his quiet, intense gazing way.
You'd struggled with your self esteem before him. But there's something deeply empowering about having him begging and pleading for you.
He's laying sideways on your big, comfortable bed, head in your lap as you play idly with his auburn curls.
His moans and whimpers are muffled by your nipple in his mouth, the soft skin of your breast as he sucks and licks at you.
The slight stubble he's growing feels nice against your sensitive skin, but you don't focus on your own arousal.
You've been edging him for the better part of an hour, the hand that isn't knitted into his curls wrapped around his thick, throbbing cock.
More than once, you've gotten him right there, right to the edge, and then stopped, lightly squeezing his shaft to prevent him from being able to cum.
Some men - most men - would take advantage of the sort of strength he has, flip you over and stuff you full of cock.
Not Andrew. Not even when you think you wouldn't mind if he did. Instead he lays there for you, sprawled out, freckled cheeks and equally freckled chest a little flushed as he whines, pulls away from your breast to look up at you with pleading eyes.
You look down at him; at the way he's left your nipples puffy and reddened from the way he's been desperately suckling on them.
"Aww, you're being so good for me, Andrew. Do you wanna cum?"
You coo at him; watch the way his hazel eyes darken with need.
"Please, I'll finish fast-" he begs you, raspy voice strained slightly with arousal.
You pout and hum, make a cute little show out of pretending to think about it, slowly, torturously, sliding your hand down the thick shaft of his cock, until you reach his balls, gently massaging them and making him whimper again.
God, he sounds so cute when he's all pent up like this. So desperate. You think that maybe letting go like this is good for him. Heals some part of him that wants to be kind and gentle and soft, instead of the razor sharp weapon that his family has honed him into.
Your hand glides back up the underside of his cock, fingertips tracing the thick vein that you can feel pulsing.
"Okay," you concede, as if you were actually considering anything but giving in. Whilst it's fun to edge him, to make him whimper and beg and try to buck his hips up, you love him too much to actually torment him for too long.
"Y-yeah?" He breathes, as if surprised by your agreement.
You wrap your fingers around him again; fuck, you love his cock, love the length and girth and the way he uses it. The thought has your pussy drooling, but you refuse to lose focus.
Once you've made him cum all over your hand and his toned abdomen, then you can ask him to eat you out. But in the meantime, you're in control.
"'s okay, honey," you tell him, give him long, languid strokes, building up to it, "I'm gonna let you cum this time. Gonna let you cum properly."
His cockhead is dripping precum, fat beads of it dripping down his shaft and coating your fingers, making it easier for you to stroke him.
"Mmmffff-" he whines, turns his head and tucks the closest nipple to his mouth back between his lips, dragging his teeth lightly over it before sucking gently, making you inhale softly.
Andrew knows you love this, knows how fucking sensitive your tits are, could spend hours just lying here in your lap, alternating between which nipple he laves attention over.
He flicks his tongue over the pebbled peak as you speed up the pace of your hand around his cock, making him react with a sound that's almost akin to a mewl.
"Oh, fuck, that's it," you gasp as he drags his teeth over your nipple again, pulls off with a lewd, wet pop as he ruts his hips up against your hand, "you've been so good for me, honey, go ahead, go ahead and cum for me-"
The moan Andrew gives you is obscene. Drawn out, desperate, his hips bucking wildly, thigh twitching as he cums, coats your hand and his abdomen in ropes and ropes of his spend.
He comes down slowly, shaking slightly from the intense high you've given him, the rush of adrenaline and endorphins.
"Holy shit," he breathes, sits up and runs his hand through his curls, then eyes you, sitting back on your knees with your thighs slightly spread.
Even in his dazed state, he can see how dripping wet you are.
"Mm, you did so good for me," you praise, "now, you gonna be kind to me and clean up the mess you made?"
Andrew doesn't need to be told twice. Gently, he pushes you backwards, settles himself between your thighs, uncaring for now about the mess he's made of himself, too eager to devour your soaked cunt.
After all. He likes being good for you.
written by andrew-codys 2026 / do not feed into AI.
when he kisses your puffy pussy so sweetly and says a little breathlessly “my poor baby” as if he wasn’t the one absolutely pounding you into the next week
STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]
