Get Your Fuckin Ass Back Home 🏡
Jey Uso x Bratty!Reader
WARNING: Brat taming, creampie, rough sex, heavy dominance and submission themes, consensual power imbalance, safeword use (“blue”), face fucking, throat fucking, hard spanking, overstimulation, claiming and breeding kink themes, slight spit play and spit kissing, light degradation, possessive behavior, slight humiliation kink, minimal aftercare, and explicit sexual content (18+ only).
NOT BETA READ! LIGHT EDITING (I took my lunch break early for this.)
INSPO from pic above.
requested by: @acknowledge-reigns
bffls: @spiicii
You weren’t trying to start a fight with Jey.
But then again, you weren’t trying not to either.
You knew exactly what you were doing when you pushed back, rolled your eyes, tossed that slick little “whatever, Josh..” over your shoulder like you weren’t poking a damn bear.
Jey’s jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it crack.
“You gonna fix that fuckin’ attitude, or do I gotta fix it for you?” he asked, low and dangerous.
You just smirked, shrugging, playing dumb like you didn’t know the heat rolling off him was a warning.
Instead of answering, you grabbed your purse and headed toward the door.
“I’m going out with the girls,” you said sweetly, “Don’t wait up.”
You could feel Jey’s stare burning through you as you slammed the door.
⸻
Four hours later, you were three shots in, two tequila sodas deep, laughing too loud at a shitty joke at the bar.
Your phone buzzed once on the sticky table.
You ignored it at first. Then it buzzed again.
And again.
Rolling your eyes, you snatched it up and saw his name light up the screen.
And attached to the latest message — a picture.
One you knew he kept for when he meant business.
A picture of Jey standing near the edge of your shared bed — shirtless, legs spread, his cock bulge through his sweats with that pretty little champion belt he was always so proud — glaring straight into the camera.
The caption underneath was simple:
“Bring your ass home. Now.”
Your whole body heated instantly — not just from lust, but from that possessive command dripping off the words.
You shifted in your seat, thighs pressing together, your stubborn heart still trying to hold the line.
You typed back:
“Maybe I’m busy.”
Not even fifteen seconds later:
“Last fucking warning before I fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for a fucking week..”
You stared at the screen, your chest tightening. Your instincts wrestled with your bratty need to push.
But you knew better.
Knew what would happen if you ignored that tone one more time.
With a huff, you snatched your bag and muttered something about feeling sick to your girls.
—
The ride home was torture.
Your thighs rubbed together the whole way.
Your pussy throbbed.
Your mind ran wild with all the ways Jey was probably going to handle you the second you walked through that door.
You fumbled with your keys at the door, nerves and excitement tangling together in your gut.
When you stepped inside, you barely had time to blink before a large hand wrapped around your throat and pressed you back against the wall.
“You think you grown now, huh?” Jey rumbled against your ear, voice thick and mean.
Your heart skittered wildly, whimpering without thought.
“Talkin’ back… leavin’ like that… Ignorin’ me…” he growled, nipping sharply at your jaw.
“You asked for this, baby.”
You squirmed under his touch, pretending to be bratty still — but he wasn’t having it.
“You gonna learn tonight,” he promised, his free hand slipping down between your legs, cupping his pretty little pussy that he knew would be soaking through your panties.
You writhed under his grip, still trying to act like you weren’t five seconds away from crumbling.
Still batting your lashes like a brat, even though every second was turning you on even more.
“Awww, poor Daddy is mad ‘cause I went out without him?” you mocked, smirking even as your chest heaved.
The fingers around your throat tightened — just enough to make your toes curl — before he yanked you forward, dragging you by the back of your neck through the living room, down the hall toward the bedroom.
“You gon’ keep runnin’ that smartass mouth, huh?” Jey muttered darkly, kicking the bedroom door open.
“You want it rough, baby? You gonna get it rough.”
He shoved you down to your knees by the bed, your hands instinctively catching yourself on the floor.
You looked up at him, lips already twitching into a smirk.
“So what, you gonna spank me and call it a night?” you taunted, tipping your head to the side.
Jey barked a short, humorless laugh.
“Nah, lil’ mama. I’m boutta break you tonight.”
He leaned down, gripping your chin hard between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.
“You listen good now you filthy slut..” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours, voice dropping so low it vibrated in your bones.
“Your safeword is blue. You say it if you need to. Otherwise, you take what I fuckin’ give you.”
You clenched violently.
But you still couldn’t help yourself. You still had to mouth off.
“I dunno,” you said airily, blinking up at him. “You sure you got the stamina to back all that talk up, old man?”
His nostrils flared.
Without another warning, he pulled his cock free, thick and already leaking at the tip.
Before you could get another word out, he gripped the back of your head and thrust deep into your mouth.
Your eyes widened as he sank all the way down your throat in one brutal glide.
No teasing.
No warning.
Just pure throat fucking.
You gagged immediately, nails digging into his thighs for balance, but he didn’t ease up.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair, holding your head still while he fucked into your throat at a savage rhythm.
“Yeah… that’s what I thought,” Jey grunted, looking down at you, dark eyes blazing.
“Smart lil’ mouth… finally put to some good use.”
You tried to glare up at him, tried to glare even with tears prickling your lashes, but it only made him snarl and thrust harder.
“Keep lookin’ at me like that,” he panted. “Go on. Be a little brat. See where it fuckin’ gets you.”
You whimpered around him, half from the way your throat burned, half from the wetness pooling between your legs.
Your hands fisted the sheets behind you, legs trembling.
You wanted to be mad.
Wanted to stay bratty.
But you were drowning in him — specifically his power — and it was breaking you down minute by minute.
Jey yanked out of your throat abruptly, strings of spit connecting you as he tilted your head up.
“You done bein’ a fuckin’ brat yet, mamas?” he asked, voice rough with dominance.
You panted, spit running down your chin, mascara smudged, chest heaving — and somehow you still found a way to smirk.
“Not even close,” you croaked out, defiant.
Jey grinned — a feral, predatory flash of teeth.
“Good,” he said, dragging you up onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and second your body hit the mattress, smack— his hand came down hard across your ass, the sound echoing through the room.
“‘Cause I’m just gettin’ started.”
You jolted forward with a sharp gasp, but before you could catch your breath — SMACK — another slap, harder.
“You think you run shit, huh?” Jey grunted, landing another vicious spank, his palm connecting with the same tender spot.
You bit your lip, trying to muffle the whimper that climbed your throat.
“You think you can walk out,” smack, “mouth off,” smack, “and not get checked?” SMACK.
Your ass burned, the sting radiating up your spine. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes — not from pain alone, but from the way your body ached for him, despite your pride screaming not to give him the satisfaction.
He landed one final, punishing slap, making you yelp.
Your fists twisted the sheets under you.
And still — still — you couldn’t help yourself.
When he leaned down over your back, you huffed out:
“That all you got, bitch?”
Dead silence.
You couldn’t even turn your head before he grabbed your hips roughly, yanking you up onto your knees.
You barely had time to gasp before he slammed into you from behind with one brutal thrust, splitting you wide open.
You cried out, your walls fluttering helplessly around him.
“Keep talkin’ now,” Jey growled, snapping his hips against you, setting a ruthless, punishing pace right from the start.
The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, filthy and hot as fuck.
You clawed at the sheets, your body lurching forward with every savage thrust, but he just dragged you back onto him over and over again.
“You want rough?” slam
“You want punishment?” slam
“You fuckin’ got it, baby.”
He gripped your hair again, yanking your head back so you had no choice but to feel every inch of him stretching you to your limits.
Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you still bared your teeth — biting back your whimpers.
Jey let out a possessive moan deep in his chest — a dangerous sound — before he flipped you over onto your back in one brutal move, not even bothering to slip out of you.
You cried out from the sudden shift, thighs trembling from how deep he hit inside you now.
Before you could do anything, he grabbed both your wrists and slammed them above your head, pinning you down hard into the mattress with one massive hand.
His hips never stopped snapping into you, brutal and relentless, making the bed frame crash against the wall.
You squirmed beneath him — one last surge of bratty fight — but he just pinned you harder, grinding deep until you screamed his name without meaning to.
“Uh-uh, don’t run now,” he snarled.
“You was big n’ bad an hour ago you fucking slut..”
You shook your head weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks, your body betraying you completely — clenching around him, aching for him, loving the way he manhandled you.
“Say it,” Jey demanded, his forehead pressing to yours, hips punishing against yours.
You whimpered, trying to turn your face away.
He bit his lip and snapped his hips hard, making you cry out again.
“Say who you fuckin’ belong to!”
You panted, shaking, the fight finally leaving your bones.
The orgasm building between your legs made your head spin.
“You,” you sobbed brokenly beautiful.
“I belong to you, Daddy!”
Jey groaned in approval, slamming even deeper, grinding hard against your sweet spot.
“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your tear-stained cheek.
“All fuckin’ mine.”
He kept your wrists pinned, kept you trapped under him, until you shattered around him — your walls clenching so tight around his cock that he finally let go too, cumming deep inside you with a loud, guttural moan.
Pinned, claimed, ruined — exactly where you belonged.
You barely had a second to catch your breath before Jey’s rough voice rasped against your ear:
“Lemme taste you, baby.”
You blinked up at him, dazed, lips parted — but you were too weak, too wrecked to stop him even if you wanted to.
Jey slid down your body slowly, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide, ignoring your feeble whimper.
You tried to squirm — still too sensitive, your pussy clenching around nothing — but desperate for something.
And then —
He buried his face between your thighs without mercy.
His tongue lapped greedily at the mess leaking from you — his cum, your cum, all mixed together — and he groaned deep in his chest like you were his last meal on earth.
You cried out, trying to twist away, the overstimulation making your legs kick, but he just gripped your thighs harder, forcing you to take it.
He devoured you shamelessly, not caring how sloppy, how wet, how absolutely filthy it was — in fact, he seemed to love it even more.
Your hands scrambled for the sheets, looking for something to hold onto as your body trembled uncontrollably.
When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with you, his eyes were molten.
But he wasn’t finished.
He crawled back up your body, pinning you down again easily, his mouth hovering over yours.
You could see it — the juices dripping from his bottom lip — seconds before he crushed his mouth to yours.
He kissed you hard, messy, his tongue forcing your lips apart, feeding you the taste of yourself mixed with him.
You whimpered into his mouth, too wrecked to fight it — tasting everything, gasping as he groaned into the kiss.
He pulled back just a little, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, babygirl,” Jey murmured, his thumb brushing your swollen lower lip.
“You taste like mine.”
You whimpered again, your thighs rubbing together instinctively, even though you were already so wrecked you could barely think.
Jey smirked down at you as he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead.
“You got one more in you, baby?” he asked, voice dark and teasing.
“Or you tappin’ out?”
And god help you —
Even after everything, that bratty little fire in you flickered again.
You blinked up at him and whispered:
“…Is that all you got?”
