So uh…I'm sorry. That being said…here's something that I wrote for you guys! So I'm going to just say…trigger warning. I'll do a list of things I'm going to include in this story, so please read through it. If you object to anything on that list either suck it up and make it through the story, or do not read it because you have been warned. Don't whine to me about it later because you read some dirty smut that offended you. I think that I just wanted to show how people can want to be loved a different way, you know

This is suuuuper un-beta'd. It's from my brain to this computer screen so sorry for any bumps!

Trigger Warning:

Drunk sex where one partner is drunk and the other isn't

Spanking

Mild name calling (planning a fic where there's serious name calling)

Questionable levels of degradation (depending on how you feel about spanking and stuff)

Slapping

Safeword: Bangarang (I'm cracking up at this)

Isabella Swan was drunk off of her ass. Not even the cute kind – stumbling around her and Paul's house in a zip up hoodie and panties, drinking out of a bottle of mandarin orange flavored vodka. In her defense, she paused every now and then to sip out of a full liter of ginger ale as well.

Everything was perfect. She and Paul had both finished their first year of college, keeping their courses online to help deal with patrols and occasional rogue vampires. Charlie married Sue and was enjoying a road trip - all of those days that he never stayed home or went on vacation were finally paying off.

Bella and Paul enjoyed the extended honeymoon phase of their relationship. It wasn't the imprint – Leah practically chewed Embry's face off whenever she had the chance, Sam and Emily bickered like old biddies and Jared and Kim had an odd penchant for getting on each other's nerves once a week like clockwork. The imprint didn't make everything peachy keen but Bella and Paul were just…happy. It was disgusting, honestly. Maybe, they were just overdue.

After Edward had left, Paul forced her to get her shit together. It took a while, but over time she got over her shit head of an ex, the family bonds that she lost in the Cullen's, and the overwhelmingly pathetic self esteem issues that she developed from depending on them.

It always came back to those fucking self esteem issues.

She was in the store today, buying everything that she needed to make chocolate chip cookies, when she rounded the corner to come face to big misshapen implant with one of Paul's past hookups.

Naturally, the bitch recognized her and immediately started hurling insults. Of course, every insult was met with an infuriating amount of calm indifference, a smirk on her lips and a return for every biting comment. She even got Tammy (you have got to be fucking kidding me), to walk away with tears in her eyes and a quiver in her chin. Her best work yet, Leah would be proud of her young padawan.

When she got home, her brave face needed some fortification. Her first shot was dedicated to every "pale face" comment that she withstood. Shots three through five were dedicated to the comments that only supported every comment she overheard from the gossips about how she doesn't belong on the rez. She sat there, her self esteem and deprecation deteriorating and making way for the rising anger as shot after shot passed her lips. Eventually she got tired of pouring from the big jug into the tiny shot and decided to conserve efforts (and vodka) by just drinking from the source.

By the time the sun had started to set, causing thick bands of light to go through their front windows, Bella was in a right state. Angry, drunk, and stumbling her way to the door, since she heard the loud slam of Paul's truck closing.

Paul had a really fucking long day. His chest was tight all day long. He knew it had to do with Bella, but he was swamped all day and since nothing crossed over into panic or danger – it had to wait. At the risk of sounding like a wimp, all he wanted was a drink, and to curl up with his imprint for the night.

If he was honest, they didn't even have to fuck. Not that it was off the table, of course. He was content, not stupid.

Sighing, Paul rubbed the back of his neck, stomping heavily up the front steps to alert Bella that he was home. He'd snuck up on her before and witnessed her heartbeat actually ceasing, and that was enough of a scare for both of them.

He didn't realize that forewarning wasn't needed.

Before he had the door fully open, a loud, drunk voice was greeting him.

"You just couldn't keep it in your fucking pants, could you?"

His first reaction was confusion. They were in love. Saccharinely, adorably, disgustingly in love. Honestly he would gag every time he thought about how much he loved her if he wasn't so…in love. Ugh.

Anyway.

She knows he wouldn't betray her like that so then…

Bella had never really commented on his past, she took it all rather well actually so this is something he had been anticipating in the beginning of their relationship. Under the bitterness and anger, Paul heard how hurt she was.

Paul was just - So. Fucking. Tired.

His voice came out as a deep rumble; lips quirking up into a smirk that he knew would piss her off.

"Hello darling, what got your panties twisted? It sure as fuck wasn't me."

His eyes flicked around the room, taking in the pillows all over the floor, various things strewn about and the chair knocked over behind her, assumedly from when she drunkenly fumbled over to him.

Paul bit his lip as he took his imprint in. All five foot-nothing of her, hair in messy brown curls separated into two low pigtails, and those big brown eyes of hers were heavily lidded as she struggled to focus. One shoulder of his (turned hers) sweatshirt fell off of the smooth slope of her shoulder, and as far as he could tell, the lace edge of a pair of panties peeked out at the top of her thighs. The other shoulder was bunched up, covering where his mark was. Between his long day, his dear beloved's attitude, and not being able to see his mark Paul's wolf was done.

Bella didn't relent in badgering Paul. Honestly, deep down inside she was impressed with how much he was letting her get away. If she weren't a drunken mess, she would admit that some of the things that she said to him were very out of line. She knew about his past, she knew that he left it there and that she was his entire world.

She knew that he loved her so much he'd crawl on glass to keep her from stubbing her toe.

She was just so angry. The confrontation earlier that day was the final drop of water in the dam she didn't know was alarming capacity. She'd heard the bragging, the details, all the snide comments that they would loudly whisper around her. She had heard about things that he had never shown her, because she was his imprint, his everything.

But Tammy got Pauly.

Pauly can make me scream.

Pauly left bruises.

Pauly made sure I couldn't walk.

Pauly fucked.

Paul made her come. It started as shivers and washed over her in waves that were prolonged by well timed thrusts until she was breathless and clinging tight to him. It was sweet, and romantic, and beautiful.

She just didn't understand why he held back. She was tired of being held back.

He was the one that made her grow the fuck up.

He was the one that told her she wasn't the weak little puppet that the Cullen's left behind.

So why the hell is he holding back from her?

Bella hadn't noticed that she spewed all of her thoughts at him in an angry, drunk and slurry torrent.

He'd met every comment, biting retort and angry shout with a smirk and calm understanding. She saw the wolf rise up in his eyes, but it felt like even he was placating her and just decided to let her vent. The gold glow came from his eyes, tracked every movement, but nothing showed for it.

If she weren't so angry she probably would have thought longer about her last ditch effort to get a reaction, before she grabbed the remote off of the table by him and smacked him across the face with it.

Paul had seen it coming – he was impressed with the arc of her arm, bringing the remote careening towards his face. Plastic cracked and shattered, pieces falling off and crashing to the floor.

Now he has an excuse to get a universal remote for the entire system he set up.

His barrel wide chest expanded impossibly wider as he took a deep breath through his nose, one eyebrow arching up into the most impressive bitch brow she'd ever seen. He held his breath, letting the oxygen deprivation numb him a little bit before letting his breath out slowly.

If he wasn't about to wreck her, the wide eyed look of excited horror on her face would have been comical. During one of their legendary movie nights, while curled up on the couch together, Bella had jokingly proclaimed that her safe word would be Bangarang if she ever got uncomfortable with him. At the time, he brushed it off with a kiss to her forehead as she giggled (and snorted) the rest of the night.

New evidence has made Paul decide to test that theory.

"You have three seconds to say the word, little girl", his voice came out as a growl and it made her thighs squeeze together, even as her hands fluttered over his cheek, trying to soothe the nonexistent pain there.

"Paul, I…shit, I didn't-"

"Three"

"Fuck is your cheek okay?"

"Two"

"Paul! I'm serious, I'm sorry!"

"One"

"Oh god damn it!"

Bella turned and tried to run – stumble - down the hallway, but didn't make it three steps before Paul hauled her up by the thighs and tossed her over his shoulder. One hand firmly gripped her ass cheek as he made his way down the hallway to their bedroom. Her tiny fists hit his back and ass, angry slurred screeches about being manhandled echoing through their home. He ignored all of them – she was about to understand a whole new definition for the word manhandled. He threw her down on the bed, one large hand catching her leg mid bounce and flipping her over to her stomach.

Irritated little shouts left her, all of them suddenly halting as his hand lifted, and swiftly came down in the middle of her ass. They had messed around with spanking before - it was always mostly with his fingers, and he let her get used to the pain as it gradually increased. This was nothing like that. Paul's palm met with the thick flesh of her ass in a loud clap of sound that had her gasping for air to fuel the shout of surprise and pain from her. He didn't let up, raining smack after smack down on both of her ass cheeks, one ear quirked to listen for their word, while the rest of him focused on how quickly he could turn her whole ass bright red.

Her creamy, soft skin didn't disappoint – barely a minute later and her ass had turned red, hot, and she was squirming around, pushing her ass back towards his hand even as she shrieked. Better yet, he could smell how wet she was, a quick graze of his fingers down between her thighs revealing the soaked fabric of the tiny lace shorts she had on. Paul paused, his head tilting back and rolling from side to side as he stretched and listen to her panting breaths and sniffles.

"Gonna say it?"

Paul waited.

A moment of silence passed before a blunt, clipped "No", passed her lips.

His hand reached up, fingers curling in her hair at the roots and hauling her up to her knees. One hand worked the zipper of his – Her. Their - sweatshirt down, barely giving her a moment to move before he yanked it down her arms, letting the cuffs trap her wrists behind her. He twisted the bulk of the fabric, and giving at tug rendered his imprints arms unusable. His fingers curled into the bands of lace at her thighs, fisting it in his hands until she whimpered when the lace rubbed against her. Paul paused, watching her hips squirm and shift around as he listened to her breaths. They were heavy but deep – coming from arousal and not fear. Looking up he saw her watching him too, her eyes dark and needy with her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth.

He arched an eyebrow at her.

Gonna say it?

She firmly shook her head no, her face rubbing against the mattress.

Smirking, Paul ripped her panties down her thighs, leaving them stuck between her knees and took a step back.

Bella was a fucking mess. Her ass was on fire, unfortunately matching the flames of embarrassment she reddening her cheeks as she stays ass-up on their bed, unable to use her arms. Embarrassment licked through her at the wetness that she could feel seeping out to where Paul could see.

One would think that she'd be used to it, or something by now.

"Honey", Paul crooned from behind her, making her close her eyes. She would stay strong, damn it.

"Are you sure you don't want to say the word? I'm going to wreck that pretty little slit of yours if you don't".

Paul's hand lifted up and came down against her ass with a loud, resounding crack that echoed into the squeal Bella muffled into the sheets.

Another slap.

Another squeal.

Another slap.

More, more, more.

After a particularly hard spank, a shriek left her and her hips dipped back, immediately searching for his hand again when he broke the pattern that he built up to spank her.

Her greed was rewarded with a hard, over handed smack that landed right between her thighs. Pain lit up her ass and aching cunt, reaching deep inside of her until much to her surprise and shame, she started to come for him, sobbing and shrieking into the bedsheets. Her hearing cut out for a moment as her mind went blank and Oh my god.

Paul watched his little imprint wiggling, face buried in the blankets as she sobbed through her first pain induced orgasm, hips writhing and bucking as her wet ended up down her thighs, smearing further as her hips dipped and squirmed. He couldn't fucking take it anymore, and by the next dip of her hips he had undone the belt, button, and zipper of his jeans, tugged the throbbing length of his cock out, and had the tip poised at her entrance, slipping through the wetness there. Pushing forward, he forced her flat onto her stomach, legs pressed together so that he can straddle her upper thighs, giving him a great view of her gloriously round ass.

"No one said you could come, so fucking greedy honey".

Bella's response was a series of mewls and her hips weakly rocking back into him.

Big, hot hands cupped the soon to be bruised flesh of Bella's ass, lightly rubbing over soft skin, feeling the heat coming off of the red globes. All Bella could do was gasp, her eyes fluttering shut as her imprints hands slid further up, hands spanning the width of her lower back to kneed at the muscles there as he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of her head. He leaned further until he could mouth along her neck and shoulder murmuring, "Nod if you're okay, baby".

One weak nod was all it took for Paul to slide back, tilt his hips, and push until he was sliding home inside of the love of his life. Burning, slick, tight, home. He pushed, hands slipping underneath to press at Bella's stomach and lower hips to keep hers till as he hilted himself inside of her despite her squirming and clawing at the sheets.

Fucking Christ he was big like this.

So big.

Paul had never laid her down and closed her legs before and she swears she could feel him in her stomach this way. She barely had time to adjust to him before he started thrusting, mouth pressed against her ear where he bites and tugs at her ear lobe between dirty whispers.

You're gripping me like a vice, honey.

I can hear how wet you are from getting fucked like this.

Fuck little girl you're gonna cum already?

With that Paul's hips slammed into her with a loud slap of ass meeting thigh and held in deep, refusing to move. His weight fell into her, pinning her down as she screamed and tried to squirm, needing him to push right there for her to come.

"Paul! No-no please Paul I'm so close let me cum!"

Jesus he loves when she begs.

Paul rested his weight on her, nuzzling into her neck and kissing over his bite mark, his breath washing over it and making her keen for him.

When she settled down, Paul started again. Hard, deep, thrusts that made her body shift up the bed until he gripped onto her shoulders, holding her in place as he went faster, watching her full ass cheeks quake with his thrusts, only to hold in deep and pin her down when she was close to coming.

Over, and over.

Until she screamed and threatened him.

Until she apologized and started begging.

Until she gave up and cried and just held onto him.

Until all she could say was his name and "I love you" over and over again.

He'd never, ever get tired of hearing that.

Especially when she needs to come so badly she's hysterically sobbing and clinging onto him and the only thing she can think about is love.

"Good girl, come on, come for me, come all over my cock, honey"

Bella felt like a livewire and couldn't tell what was up or down.

Without a break in his punishing thrusts, Paul lets a hand slip under her and between her thighs, fingers slipping around her clit and pinching it harshly.

Paul stopped thrusting only to grind in deep, knowing he was hitting the right spot when his efforts were rewarded with her going rigid underneath him, back bowing and he swears he hears her heart stutter and fuck she's squeezing the life out of him and fucking hell he can't hold –

The wail that leaves her is inhuman. It's pain, relief, and need, and Jesus she's squirting all over his thighs and the sheets, soaking them in her juices as it pours out violently to force him out of her cunt the first few moments.

Paul thrusts back in, driving another wail from his imprint as fire builds in his hips and twists inside him until he's finally releasing, growling loud and deep in his chest as she comes deep inside of her, hands gripping under her thighs, adding to her new bruises as wave after wave of his seed spills out into her until he's empty but can't stop twitching and jerking inside of her.

Later - after Paul curled up around Bella, fingers soft and stroking along the curve of her hip and thigh as he carefully slipped out of her, after he carefully cleaned her up with a hot wash cloth and soft kisses, and after he curled back up around her and surrounded her in heat and love and home – Bella opened her mouth up to apologize and explain.

Paul knew. He knew everything she felt and understood and listened to her. Both now - sober, well fucked and exhausted – and then – Drunk, devastated and insecure.

She didn't expect anger, but disappointment was what would have killed her inside.

All she got was, "Honey, you're a little fucking brat, and I love you".

He rolled and pulled her so she sprawled out on top of him, and that's how they slept.

That's it for this one! It kind of got away from me, oops.

As always, reviews and prompts (Twilight, Marvel, etc.) are welcome!