Ryland Grace x Reader x Colt Seavers
Ryland Grace was beyond exhausted. The fluorescent lights of their shared apartment hummed with a clinical, maddening persistence that mirrored the throbbing ache behind his temples. His desk was a wasteland of half empty coffee mugs, and a stack of graded papers that seemed to be endless. He hadn't looked up from his work in hours maybe days, it felt like and your constant, nagging presence in his peripheral vision had begun to feel like a physical weight. You had been loud lately. Not literally, but your presence was demanding: a series of deliberate interruptions, pouting lips, and petty complaints designed to drag his attention away from the precious physics that actually mattered to him.
"Ryland? Are you even listening?" Your voice pierced through his concentration. You stood in the doorway of your shared room, arms crossed over your short frame, your lower lip pouting in that infuriating way that made his jaw clench. You wanted some attention, reassurance, a touch but all he felt was a deep, simmering irritation. He didn't even bother to look up from his laptop, his fingers continuing their rapid fire clicking.
"Not now. I'm busy, and frankly, your inability to respect boundaries is becoming pathetic." His tone was cold, and utterly condescending, making you even more upset at him.
You huffed, stepping into the living room with an exaggerated stomp, your chest rising and falling with agitated breaths.
"You're always busy.. It's like I don't even exist in this house anymore!" You slammed a hand down on the coffee table, sending a stack of papers fluttering to the floor. It was a calculated move, a desperate bid to force him to acknowledge you, even if it was through anger. But Ryland simply sighed, a sound of pure exasperation.
He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes tired and his glasses barely clinging properly to his face. "If you can't behave like an adult, maybe I should call someone who knows how to handle a brat like you."
A flicker of genuine fear crossed your features at the threat, but your pride wouldn't let you back down. You had been pushing him for weeks, testing the limits of his patience, convinced that he was too tired to actually follow through. "Oh please," you huffed, though your voice cracked slightly. "Who would you even call? You think anyone actually wants to deal with my 'tantrums'?" You thought you had won, that you had called his bluff because you had never seen Ryland truly angry. You had only ever seen him annoyed.
Ryland didn't hesitate. He picked up his phone and called his brother, Colt, laying out exactly how you had been behaving. He asked Colt to come over and put you in your place on his behalf so he could finish his deadline in blessed silence. Colt obliged immediately; anything to help his little brother out.
Hours had passed. Ryland was finally able to work in peace, though the silence of his work was frequently broken by the wet, rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing from the bedroom . Your high pitched, desperate moans and Colt's guttural groans filled the apartment as he roughly overstimulated the attitude right out of your body.
You were sobbing against the soft blanket of you and Ryland's shared bed, face down and ass high in the air, while Colt roughly pounded you from behind. His massive frame trapped you beneath him, making escape impossible as he delivered brutal, unrelenting thrusts that shook your entire body. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to catch your breath between the waves of overstimulating pleasure; Colt was ripping orgasm after orgasm straight out of your body, leaving you sobbing and shaking as your hips bucked helplessly against his rough thrusts.
You never wanted to get on Ryland's nerves again.
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