The greenroom hummed with noise. Huntrix’s staff scurried through the narrow backstage corridors, headsets on, clipboards in hand, their voices drowned by the crowd’s roar bleeding through the walls. The concert was minutes away, tension high, but Zoey sat in front of the makeup mirror, eyes darting at her reflection — and at you behind her.
You leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, towering presence calm as ever. That shameless little grin was already tugging at your lips.
Zoey felt your eyes on her and shifted in her chair, fiddling with the edge of her cargo pants. Not now, she thought. Not here.
But the problem was, with you, “not now” never existed.
You walked up behind her, slow and deliberate, hands sliding down her shoulders. “Nervous?” you murmured, your voice low enough to make her thighs press together under the table.
She shook her head quickly, refusing to meet your eyes in the mirror. “N-no… just… focus, we go on in ten minutes—”
Your hands dropped lower, fingers brushing against the sequins at her waist, then resting firmly on her hips. “Ten minutes is plenty of time,” you purred, leaning close so your lips brushed the shell of her ear.
Zoey bit her lip, already flustered, her heart thumping. “You’re insane… we can’t… here—”
You didn’t even let her finish. One hand slid boldly up her inner thigh, and she gasped, gripping the edge of the table. “Y/n—”
Her voice cracked, equal parts warning and plea.
“Shhh,” you hushed her, kissing the side of her neck. “Nobody’s coming in right now. And even if they do… let them see who you belong to.”
Her breath hitched. That shameless confidence of yours always tore down her protests.
You turned her chair slightly, pulling her legs apart just enough to slip your knee between them. Her stage skirt rode up instantly, revealing just how little she wore underneath. Your grin widened. “Knew you’d make this easy for me.”
Zoey whined softly, face flushed crimson. “We’re… we’re seriously doing this right before the stage?”
You knelt down between her legs without a word, tugging her panties aside, your breath ghosting over her already-wet heat. She slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a desperate moan.
The gleaming stage lights shined faintly through the cracks. The crowd was chanting Huntrix’s name.
You smirked up at her, eyes dark with hunger. “Guess I’ll have to be quick…”
And then you dove in.
Your tongue slid against her folds with shameless hunger, circling her clit before sucking it into your mouth. Zoey’s back arched against the chair, her free hand flying to your hair, tugging hard to ground herself. Her muffled moan cracked into a whimper.
“Y/n… oh god—”
The room spun for her. The risk, the timing, the way you devoured her without hesitation — it was too much. Her thighs trembled, trying to squeeze shut around your head, but you only pressed harder, greedy for her taste.
“Fuck, fuck—” she whispered, nails digging into the armrest.
Your tongue traced ruthless circles, switching to slow, deliberate strokes that dragged her closer to the edge. You pulled back just long enough to growl against her dripping heat: “Louder, Zoey. I want the whole staff to know how good I make you feel.”
She shook her head desperately, tears pricking her eyes from how overwhelming it was. “No—someone will h-hear—ahh!”
You sucked her clit hard, and she bit down on her fist to keep from screaming. Her legs shook violently, the chair squeaking beneath her as she came undone — and you didn’t stop.
Your shameless tongue worked her through the orgasm, lapping up every drop, forcing her to ride the high until her thighs were trembling uncontrollably.
Zoey slumped back in the chair, panting, makeup slightly smudged, her chest heaving under her crop top.
You licked your lips slowly, standing tall again, towering over her flushed, wrecked form. Your hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at you.
“Now,” you whispered, smirking as you wiped her slick off your mouth with your thumb. “Go out there and perform. But don’t forget who you’re singing for.”
Her face burned hotter than the stage lights ever could. She nodded, weak, submissive, utterly ruined — and still trembling with the aftershocks as the stage manager banged on the door, shouting,
THE DAY HAS ARRIVED!!! THE BAD BATCH APPRECIATION WEEK 2024 IS HERE!!! For the next 7 days, we'll celebrate and appreciate our favorite clone squad! Do you want to explore what happened between seasons? Is there something you wish the show had fleshed out more? This is the chance to do it yourself!
~
TAGS FOR TODAY. Use those that are relevant to your work only.
#tbbaw2024 #the bad batch appreciation week 2024 #don't miss a thing #missing scene #"will you wait for me?" #quinlan vos #[nsfw prompt] #fanfic #fanart #gifset #[or any other medium] #[trigger warnings] #nsfw #[any other relevant tags]
And for those who cross-post to the collection on Ao3: Don't forget to add The Bad Batch Appreciation Week as an Additional tag!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Partyrules my beloveds 💕
Rating: E
Fandom: Brawl Stars
Relationship: Larry/Surge
Main Tags: Oneshot, Smut, PWP, Kinktober, Almost Caught, Robot Sex, Quickies, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship
Warnings: None!
Summary: Larry was known for being a rule-follower, always willing to advise everyone to respect the law and never break it.
However, Surge knew another side to him: he tolerated breaking the rules when it was for himself.
This led to them having sex in the surveillance room in the middle of Larry's shift, hoping no one would show up.
George pushed Lee against the wall of the broom cupboard, kissing him deeply as they fumbled a bit in the tight space.
"Why'd you say Fred and Angelina could have the dorm?" Lee asked between kisses.
"I owed Fred one," George answered breathlessly as Lee pressed against him.
George went still, listening at the door. "Shit," he said, hastily straightening his robes and letting go of Lee.
"What-?" Lee started to ask as the door opened.
"Weasley, Jordan…you are out of bounds," came Professor McGonagall's voice. "What do you have to say for yourselves?" she demanded as they trooped out of the broom cupboard.
When neither one of them said anything, she pursed her lips. "Detention, then. For a week."
"Someone’s coming.” Peter grabbed his father’s wrist and stopped him from rounding the corner. They stood in the shadow and watched Charles and Hank walk by. The two were deep in conversation and didn’t pay Erik and Peter any attention.
“Now.” Peter checked again, and they continued their way to his room without any more incidents.
Erik locked the door with a flick of his wrist while Peter already spread the goods on his bed. That was when they both heard Charles’ annoyed voice in their heads: “Hiding doesn’t help against telepathy. Give everything back and then meet with me.”
A/N: My home computer wanted to be a butt today and kept restarting, even when I was no where near it. So I apologize that this update is so late.
"Yea. Dean, I am so sorry. I-"
"You let him fuck you?"
"No," I answer.
"Yea, like I can believe that," he scoffs. "Abby, I saw the video. I saw you grinding on him. Don't try to deny it. No boy in his right mind is going to resist something so freely offered."
"We didn't fuck," I try again, begging for him to trust me. "You are still the only one I've been with."
The silence in the garage is deafening as I stare at him, wordlessly pleading that he understand that I am telling the truth.
"That's good to know," Dean says, finally conceding with a sigh. "But Abby you could've messed up everything."
"I know," I say low, hanging my head.
"If you had said my name at any point in that video," he pauses and sighs. "We would've both been in a world of trouble."
"I know." I still won't look at him.
"Lis bout went ballistic hearing you talk like that. Practically interrogated me, trying to find out who Daddy is."
My head snaps up at that. "Wha-what did you say?"
"I played dumb, of course. I told her I had no idea."
"Thanks for that I guess," I tell him, a small grin on my lips.
"Hey, I was covering my ass too baby."
The smile on my face grows as he calls me by my pet name for the first time since this whole debacle began.
"I'm still your baby?" I ask, hopeful.
"Of course," he answers smiling back at me. "Which is why Daddy got so pissed seeing you rubbing his pussy all over that kid."
My whole body heats up and I step closer to him.
"Still your pussy Daddy."
"Damn right," he says as he reaches out his hand toward me. I take it and he pulls my body to his. "Now, let's talk about your punishment."
"But Daddy," I whined. "I didn't…."
"No, but you wanted to. Were going to. And I had to watch it. You've been very naughty, lil girl."
I nod and look up at him through my lashes. "So you gonna spank me?"
"Well," he says, dragging the word out. "Since you seem to have a big mouth and like to tell all your friends about me….You're gonna use that mouth to suck Daddy's cock until he cums down your throat."
I smile as Dean steps back and pulls me around to the other side of his car
"On your knees little girl," he demands and I hit the floor.
I watch as Dean unbuttoned and unzips his jeans, opening them and reaching in, pulling his member out.
"Now put those loose lips of yours to good use."
I lick my lips as I wrap my fingers around the base of his dick. Talking a deep breath, I open my mouth and let him slide in.
Dean's flavor hits my taste buds and I moan obscenely loud. I have missed his taste, the heft of his cock on my tongue, the tip breaching my throat as I take more of him in.
Dean begins panting above me while my head bobs on him. He places a hand on the top of my head and splays his fingers across the crown, putting slight pressure there.
"God, I missed that mouth!" Dean exclaims in a whisper.
I smile as best as I can with a fat cock between my lips. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck as he begins thrusting his hips, pushing further and deeper into my throat.
"Holy shit! Fuck, I'm gonna-"
He gets cut off when my mom knocks and steps into the garage. "Dean, hon? You out here?"
I immediately take my mouth off him and drop to the floor, looking up at him wide-eyed. Holy fuck!
He nods his head to the side, silently telling me to crawl around the back of his car. I hurriedly do as he suggests, sitting on the floor, hopefully out of sight.
My heart's beating erratically and it's hard to breathe, but I hold it in, barely exhaling through my nose.
"Dean?!" My mom chuckles. "Are you seriously out here jerking off?"
"Uh…...yea?" Dean answers sheepishly.
"Need some help?" Mom asks and I have to suppress the urge to gag. If only Mom knew that it was my saliva on his dick!
"Uh…..not here. It's all dirty and greasy and smelly out here, let's take this inside," Dean suggests and I hear the audible sound of his zipper being done up.
I wait until I know good and well that they've made their way back inside and to their room before I move.
I walk back in the house, knowing it is going to be another night of hearing Dean and Mom going at it, knowing that could've been me.
Christmas break
Two days before Christmas, I pull into the driveway and my mouth falls open. The house that I grew up in and always had minimal decorations at this time of the year is decked out in lights everywhere. There are strings of lights around every window, the door and hanging from the eaves.
Mom has never been a big fan of this holiday and to see the house decorated as inanely as it is is bizarre and insane. In the picture window of the front room, there appears to be at least a 7 foot tree standing there with every limb decorated. There’s even a wreath on the front door!
Has my mom been possessed? Did someone, or something, take over my mom’s body and personality? Someone who is actually fond of Christmas.
I walk into the house and can hear the rest of the family in the kitchen so I head that way. As soon as I walk in, I see Dean at the stove stirring eggs, Ben is setting the table and Mom is getting everyone’s drinks.
“Hey Abs,” she says as she passes by Dean who almost hits her with the pan of eggs when he turns around.
“Who are you all and what have you done with my family?” I ask, astonished. The three of them laugh and, after sitting the drinks on the table, Mom comes over and hugs me.
“We’re making breakfast, silly.”
“Ooookay,” I say, still shocked at the sight before me. Dean looks over and winks as he serves the food onto individual plates.
“Want some?” he asks. “I made plenty.”
The four of us sit at the table and enjoy the food, which apparently was all made by the man sitting at the head of the table.
“So, what’s up with all the deco? We have never celebrated Christmas like this.”
“A new tradition,” mom says. “Dean’s family didn’t ever celebrate and we’ve never really, so I thought it was time for us to start.”
I look between the three of them and then nod my head. They all look so happy and jovial. Okay, then new tradition I guess.
“Food’s good,” I say, changing the subject and looking toward Dean, who just smiles shyly.
“Yea, who knew Dean could cook!” my usual silent-unless-he’s-playing-a-game brother pipes up. I look at him, wide-eyed and surprised he said words to us, to me. “What? It’s true.” he says and then goes back to eating.
Later that afternoon, Mom comes into my room while I’m reading and sits at the foot of the bed. I close my book and sit up. “What’s up?”
“I think Dean is going to propose,” she says nonchalantly and then looks at me and I can see the excitement in her eyes.
‘What? No! He can’t propose...no, no no!’ I think to myself but force a smile on my face.
“Oh my god! That’s great,” I lie, convincingly because then Mom goes into a diatribe about how someone has seen Dean at the jeweler’s in the next town over for a week straight, everyday.
“I mean, it has to be because he is trying to get the ring perfect, right?” She asks, the hope in her voice evident.
“Sure. Yea, I’m sure that’s what it is,” I continue my fibbing. I hug her although my heart is breaking.
The next morning, Christmas eve, I wake up and am met with the same thing as yesterday. We all gather in the kitchen and sit down for a family breakfast, this time the scrambled eggs are red and green. I quirk an eyebrow at Dean when he sits the plate in front of me and he smiles. “Food coloring. It’s festive,” he tells me and when I keep looking at him like he’s got a second head he rolls his eyes. “Just eat ba-Abby.!” He winks and then continues to give everyone else their plate.
The food is delicious again today. Ben was right when he claimed Dean could cook. Is there anything this man isn’t good at?!
As we are finishing up, Mom begins to discuss what is still needed for tomorrow’s dinner and Dean offers to go to the store for her.
“Wanna go with me?” he asks, looking at me. I can tell he is silently pleading for me to agree so I nod.
On the way to the store, Dean turns his truck down a street I know for sure isn’t a shortcut or a faster way to the grocer’s.
“Um, De? Where’re you going?” I ask, a laugh in my voice.
“Just wait a second. There’s something I have to do.”
Dean pulls off to the side of the road into a wide spot where there is no traffic and not a single house in sight.
“If you brought me out here to kill me-” I begin but Dean starts laughing.
“I didn’t bring you out here to kill you baby.” He reaches over and opens the glove compartment. Pulling out a brown paper bag, he sits it in his lap.
“I wanted to give you your present, just the two of us.”
Oh. OH!
I watch as he pulls a rectangular blue velvet box out of the bag and looks at it for a moment. I can see the name of the jeweler’s on the lid. The same one that he apparently frequented for a week straight.
“Baby,” he pauses and then hands the box toward me. “Here. Merry Christmas.”
I take the box in my hand, the velvet is soft to touch. I slowly flip open the lid and my mouth drops at what is inside.
In return for the picture that cheetocity gave me, I promised a one shot. She asked for a continuation of “If You Play It Right”. Enjoy!
Title: Dangerous Games
Rating: M
Pairing: Eric/OC
Fandom: Divergent
For: cheetocity
By: asirensrage
This sucked.
Apparently, when training to be a leader, you had to do the meaningless tasks of the lower parts of the faction. Just to ensure each section and the role it played in the faction was understood. It was bullshit and I was certain Eric only sent me on it because he was tired of listening to my comments.
Which was good. I haven’t been able to look at the desk the same way since he bent me over it.
Despite the way her sounded when mentioning his bed after the whole…incident, he hadn’t lived up to it. It was back to work and I had been sent away. Still, inventory of the arsenal was only slightly better than the fences. That had been boring has hell.
I was in the middle of counting boxes of bullets when I felt eyes on me. I turned towards the door, fully expecting one of the members who actually worked in the arsenal to be watching and laughing at me. It had happened a few times already. Apparently a leader in training working their jobs was the funniest thing they had experienced yet. I already made a mental note of who had laughed the hardest for when I actually finished training.
Instead of finding a random Dauntless member laughing at me, it was Eric leaning against the doorway watching me. My eyes narrowed instantly.
“What do you want?”
“Just enjoying the view.”
I turned away from him with a scoff. Of course he’d enjoy the view of me acting as a regular member, someone who wasn’t his equal. “Well enjoy it while it lasts. You won’t see me under you for long.” If there was an innuendo in there, well, that was completely on purpose. I couldn’t slack in my remarks just because it had been awhile. I had a feeling that Eric looked unimpressed as usual.
“I doubt that.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of his voice behind me. I turned back to face him, only to find him in front of me instead of at the doorway. How had I not noticed he moved? “Oh yeah?” I retorted, sounding slightly braver than I felt.
Eric smirked. His hand touched my waist, and he leaned in towards me. His mouth was by my ear as he spoke. “You’re going to be under me, begging, repeatedly.”
“Really?” I asked softly. “Because I don’t think you have it in you. I think you’re in a permanent bad mood that you can’t even fuck out.” I grinned at him. “It didn’t work last time after all. Pretty sure you really did glue your bed to the wall to keep getting out on the wrong side and you don’t want me to see.”
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. His gaze was on my lips.
“You know the answer to that.”
His hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me forward as his lips slammed against mine. I met his kiss with equal fervour. The hand on my waist wrapped around my back, pulling me into his chest. I moved my arms to go around his neck, keeping his mouth on mine.
It still felt weird to kiss Eric, but I was content to ignore it. It had worked in my favour last time…sort of.
The hand on my waist went lower to my ass, pulling my hips against his. He broke the kiss first, the hand at the back of my neck digging into my hair and pulling my head to the side, exposing my neck. He kissed and sucked bruises onto it. I arched into him, wanting more and wondering why he was dragging this out.
“Eric,” I begged. “Come on.” I raked the nails on one of my hands against his scalp. His grip on me tightened, and he pulled back. His pupils were blown wide.
“You play dangerous.”
I grinned at him. “Dauntless.”
“Undo your pants,” he demanded before kissing me again.
I tried not to roll my eyes, removing my arms from around his neck and moving them in-between us. It wasn’t necessarily easy, but I had my pants undone faster than expected. Least I hadn’t been wearing a belt.
The hand on my ass moved before slipping inside my jeans and pushing aside my underwear. God, his hands were huge. The finger he inserted was a little painful. I wasn’t quite ready like last time. He pulled back out though and just kept his hand cupped against me. That can’t be comfortable. Before I could voice the thought, I am distracted by his mouth and tongue demanding response from me.
His teeth scraped against my jaw, before sucking on my neck and finding that one spot that just heightened everything. I moved one of my hands over his and pushed it against me. His fingers brushed against my clit before pushing forward. I gasped as he pushed a finger in and it slid in far easier than before.
Oh god. My legs almost gave out on me.
A sudden crash pulled us both out of the moment. Right. We were in the artillery where anyone was likely to show up. Eric pulled his hands out and away from me and I fixed my pants quickly.
“Sorry!” One of the ones who worked in the artillery backed into the room, arms full with boxes. “I’ll grab it in a moment!” He turned towards us and stopped in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” He mostly asked Eric. He had been there when I introduced myself and demanded work. Eric didn’t bother responding to him. “Okay….”
I watched him place the boxes on the floor before heading back out the door. I looked at Eric. “That was close.”
He snorted softly, before looking at me. “My room. Ten minutes.” He strode out of the room without another word.
I stared after him. I was finally going to find out the truth about that bed. It only occurred to me after that thought that I had no idea where Eric’s room was. Fuck.
