#some nonsense for your sunday evening.

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x Max Verstappen (ex-Harry Styles)

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: After getting over her fear of getting into a relationship, YN started to 'soft launch' her new partner. Of course everybody knew who it was, but she wanted her fun. Harry didn't like it and still was petty. Max had had enough.

warnings: swearing, some suggestive comments, talk about verbal assault and not-so-great fist fight

masterlist part 1

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maxverstappen1 and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

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formula1gossip

liked by formula1fan84 and 200 383 others

formula1gossip With the one week break between Italian and Singapore Grand Prix, the two-time World Champion - Max Verstappen - was seen cozing up with a mysterious woman on his yacht near the Amalfi Coast. Any ideas who could that be?

view all 10 394 comments

maxfan94 my man is gone

maxfan958 making out on a yacht in a bright day? who is this man?

landofan48 not to be bold but i think i know exactly who that is

ynsmymama GUYS GUYS GUYS Ma'x story from yesterday and YN's were definitely one photo!

⤷ maxfan67 how?

⤷ ynsmybestie YN's story was the cropped version of Max's

ynsmybestie this is YN YSN, no thank you, i don't need confirmation - I KNOW

landonorris interesting

⤷ landofan49 WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?!

⤷ landonorris I LIKE GOSSIP

⤷ danielricciardo he's gonna kill you! prepare to end up in the wall on sunday, lando! nice knowing you!

⤷ landonorris mclaren i need new insurance

⤷ mclaren Fight your wars, Lando. Fight your own wars.

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yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 3 011 393 others

yourinstagram life lately has been exciting 💛

view all 99 202 comments

landonorris you rehearsing???

⤷ yourinstagram shhh, im making new music

landonorris will you be my photographer forever??

⤷ yourinstagram you only like the photo cause it's a thirst trap

⤷ landonorris shhhh, don't tell people

danielricciardo was the restaurant worth it?

⤷ yourinstagram you know it, dan

maxverstappen1 💛💛

carlossainz55 i like the fourth photo

⤷ yourinstagram I LIKE YOUUUUUUU

ynsmybestie WHAT IS THIS

ynsmybestie lando thirst trap???????

⤷ user84 he's not without a shirt though?

⤷ ynsmybestie HE DOESN'T NEED TO, HE'S STILL HOT

ynsmymama not only showing us that she's making new music but SOFT LAUNCHING ??? like if we didn't know already who that is

⤷ ynshands let's just pretend and see what happens

comment liked by yourinstagram and maxverstappen1

ynxmax no way that my ship has sailed no way

ynupdates new music when???

⤷ yourinstagram sooner than you think 🫣

user92 she already has a new boyfriend?

⤷ ynsmybestie already? it's been 6 months since it was made public that yn and harry broke up. and considering all the interviews and songs, they'd been broken up longer than that

⤷ ynsmymama you can say that or just shut your mouth user92

ynshands i just know that the last photo was taken after Singapore... that man was furious

⤷ maxandyn don't even... i'm blushing

⤷ ynsmybestie they all said that lando would end up in the wall and here he was on the 2nd place

⤷ ynsmymama the way that YN was cheering for Lando, knowing that Max had no chance anymore. this is a true friendship. and her jumping up and down at the podium ceremony????? I LOVE HER

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yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 3 383 032 others

yourinstagram got a man and here's the aftermath... NONSENSE EP is all yours to listen right now!

view all 42 394 comments

landonorris no problem yn for contributing to your cover photo! i am very thankful for the credit!

⤷ yourinstagram you know damn well why that credit is not there

⤷ landonorris but he took the photo with MY camera!

⤷ yourinstagram so i guess it's not my album because my pen wrote down the words

⤷ landonorris well, when you put it like that...

maxverstappen1 💛💛

⤷ ynsmybestie love me some man that comments same thing under my posts

danielricciardo STREAMING IT RIGHT NOW - KEEP YOU UPDATED

⤷ danielricciardo call it what you want - fit like a daydream? build a fire? starry eyes? yeah, he has those. you already wear that necklace he got you, don't you?

⤷ danielricciardo slut! - tangerine? what were you doing in the mclaren paddock, hmm?

⤷ danielricciardo bad for business - you've gone crazy, that's right. i've never seen you this crazily happy.

⤷ danielricciardo you are in love - i'll never forget the look in his eyes when he said "you are my best friend". and the photo on the desk is absolutely adorable (i'm going to be sick)

⤷ danielricciardo i think he knows - boyish look??? did you hear his jokes? he IS a boy! 26 yo and still a child. you'll drive? if he trusts you with the car you might as well get married, no kidding.

⤷ danielricciardo nonsense - WHY WOULD YOU RELEASE IT? WHY WHY WHY... I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES AND DO SOMETHING MY MEMORY AND FORGET THIS SONGS EXIST. I WON'T BE ABLE TO LOOK BOTH OF YOU IN THE EYES NOW.

⤷ yourinstagram have you consider a career in doing yt reaction videos? you'd be gold

ynupdates i can't wait for twitter to react to all of these...

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danielricciardo, landonorris and maxverstappen1 added to their IG story!

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www.dailymail.com/harry_styles_confronted_max_verstappen

Harry Styles confronted Max Verstappen

Just last night after YN YSN's secret concert in Las Vegas, her ex-boyfriend, Mr Treat People With Kindness (Harry Styles) decided to 'bump into' his ex-lover and 'talk'. According to the fans on scene - it was aggressive, blatant and simply sad how Harry supposedly treated YSN.

When the concert ended and the lights went out, fans started to exit the venue and making their way home. Some of them decided to move to the back and patiently wait for the VIP people leaving. VIP list for that concert consisted of two World Champions - Lewis Hamilton and apparent new boyfriend of YN's - Max Verstappen, plus some of other F1 drivers. In the attendance were also YN's mum - Geri Horner and step-dad - Christian Horner.

Finally, YN went out first, but no one could even start asking anything when from thin air appeared Harry Styles - drunk and rocky. The yelling match started, which caught the attention of more people, but especially the said VIPs.

"Max literally flew from the doors and stood between Harry and YN. By that time, YN was crying and shaking from all the insults and swears that were spoken to her. Harry tried to move past Max, but he held him in place, placing a hand on Harry's chest. The singer didn't like it and pushed the driver. Now, the other drivers had also gone out and surrounded the trio. Two of them took care of YN and others were in place to eventually stop the fight. They couldn't. Harry took the first swing, but considering that he was drunk, Max could easily duck and wait for his turn. At the end, Max just went up to Harry and said something - looking him directly in the eyes, knuckles white and all that. Finally, they all left, leaving Harry there, sitting by the door. Max was holding YN so she wouldn't fall from all the shaking," said one of the witnesses.

Do you think that YN or Max will report an assault?

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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daniel3.jpg

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1 004 931 others

daniel3.jpg yn and her nonsense boy whenever they're within half a meter radius

view all 84 493 comments

yourinstagram DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO

yourinstagram what in the hell are you doing??

⤷ danielricciardo i'm soft launching

⤷ yourinstagram my relationship?

⤷ danielricciardo YOU SAID YOURSELF THAT YOU WANTED TO DO IT

⤷ yourinstagram YEAH ME! and there's nothing 'soft' about it

⤷ danielricciardo maybe i chose some risky photos

⤷ yourinstagram too late. he just left to give you a visit :))

⤷ landonorris pray for daniel people! the man may have a boyish look but his a mad man!

⤷ yourinstagram and then he's visiting you, lan

ynupdates that is max verstappen. if i ever saw max verstappen that's him

ynsmymama nonsense making sense know

ynsmybestie I love that they still play the 'soft launching' game when just few days ago she was singing about Max's BDE

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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yourinstagram

liked by maxvertsappen1, danielricciardo and 5 003 238 others

yourinstagram win, party, afterparty

SCREW SOFT LAUNCHING - MY BOYFRIEND IS A 3 TIME WORLD CHAMPION, WHAT ABOUT YOURS??

view all 339 492 comments

maxvertsappen1 MY GIRLFRIEND IS A NATIONAL TRESSURE

⤷ maxverstappen1 Did I do it right, yourinstagram?

⤷ yourinstagram YES YOU DID MY LOVE

maxverstappen1 I love you

⤷ yourinstagram I LOVE YOU

danielricciardo who are you and what have you done with yn?

⤷ yourinstagram that's the thing - I'm finally me, unapologetically

⤷ danielricciardo I couldn't be happier for my best friend for finding someone that makes her the best version of herself

⤷ yourinstagram you sap! love you, riccy ric

danielricciardo I thank heavens that Geri or Christian are not looking at you account

⤷ yourinstagram oh she does "dad's rethinking the christmas dinner invitation" was her text

landonorris got (love)sick all over my bed from this content

landonorris congratulations Max, you champ! and congrats yn for making it through the night

⤷ maxverstappen1 Thanks, Lando. And she did really good.

⤷ landonorris keep it in you pants, will you?

⤷ yourinstagram I'm done.

charles_leclerc Congratulations!

ynupdates daddy max??? what in the hell

ynsmymama all those photos scream: I HAD A NIGHT TO REMMEBER

⤷ yourinstagram i did.

maxfan49 i've never seen him happier

maxfan93 rue when was this?

⤷ maxverstappen1 Last night / this morning?

⤷ maxfan98 what. in. the. hell.

ynsfan49 they really said: i'm in love, i have great nights and i'm gonna make that everybody problem

liked by yourinstagram and maxverstappen1

ynsfan95 my boyfriend is graduating tomorrow with an engineer degree!

⤷ yourinstagram SLAYYY

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maxverstappen1

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 002 182 others

maxverstappen1 You're my best friend. 💛💛

view all 200 385 comments

landonorris say thank you to the third wheel of the year, max

⤷ maxverstappen1 stop flirting with my girlfriend then

⤷ landonorris i know you're thankful

⤷ danielricciardo leave him, max. it's the only thing that was left for him - hopeless flirting

⤷ landonorris do you know the sentence that starts with f and ends with u and has uck yo in the middle?

danielricciardo mama y papa

⤷ yourinstagram someone take that phone away from you

⤷ maxverstappen1 You're older than us

yourinstagram got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue

⤷ danielricciardo are you quoting your own song?

⤷ yourinstagram no, i'm quoting words i said to him last night before falling asleep in his arms

liked by maxverstappen1 and 502 392 others

⤷ danielricciardo damn

charles_leclerc finally! i wouldn't be able to keep it a secret anymore

⤷ yourinstagram you spilled the beans to your engineers twenty minutes after we had told you

⤷ charles_leclerc but i didn't tell anybody else

⤷ pierregasly you told me!

⤷ georgerussell63 me too!

ynupdates SHE IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE TOO. YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL MAXIMUS

⤷ maxverstappen1 That's not my name!

⤷ yourinstagram Maximus??? i love it

ynsmybestie screw soft launching, leave it for Max to HARD launch

⤷ yourinstagram I thought I "hard" launched???

⤷ ynsmymama double meaning queen

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a/n: do we move on from this pair or crave some more drama?

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x singer!reader #max verstappen fic #harry styles x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Mother, I am hungry☹️ could you please give us a list of Kinks you think Konig would have to satisfy my hunger?🙏🏾

Hooooo boy!

CW: PURE FILTH below the cut, 18+ only. Light dom/sub, disciplinary/power play, exhibitionism, light bondage, domestic servitude, somnophilia, yandere!König killing someone who saw you naked, squirting, porn, M/F/F/F

Nature lover. The blowjob in the forest fantasy wasn't a lie! König thinks it would be romantic to make love to you in the middle of a dreamy glade, rut you against a sturdy tree, or have you take him in your mouth on some picturesque beach empty of other people.

He would also love to "warm himself" during a nice little wintertime walk, perhaps push you on your belly in the snow and tug your pants down just enough for him to slide inside your wet heat. The contrast between the frigid air and your warm, wet pussy drives him over the brink in mere minutes, and it's cute to watch you pout all the way back home – he knows his cum is spilling out of you, staining your underwear. He should give you a wash when you get back to turn that frown upside down ❤️

Powerplay. König loves to be in control. He would like to set a few rules for you and punish you when you "accidentally" break them. Those rules would be nonsensical and superficial – such as that you must greet him in nothing but your underwear when he comes home, ensure he always has clean clothes in the drawer, cook his favorite meal on Sundays, things like that. "You know what this means, Schatz," he mutters on your neck upon noticing you've broken his Sacred Rules, much to his delight – because the disciplinary action is that he's allowed to take you right then and there.

It's even better if you beg him not to punish you, explaining that you're tired or that you forgot. It's too bad, because only a safeword will save you. König is already getting his leaking cock out while you're on your knees, asking him to be merciful, just this once. "You know I have to do this… It's the only way you'll learn," he says before commanding you to either open that pretty mouth or turn around and bend over.

Squirting. He would be overjoyed if he got you to squirt. König has mainly watched amateur porn because regular porn is too emotionless and unnatural in his opinion. His preference is women doing solo – that's when he learned what squirting was and immediately vowed he would make his future wife squirt one day.

Exhibitionistic tendencies. This kind of ties in with the sex in nature fantasies: König would secretly love to get caught while having sex. He would particularly love it if the one catching you was a man, so that a "rivaling male" could see 1. how a woman is supposed to be fucked 2. how much you enjoy being fucked by him 3. what they can never have, i.e. gorgeous, whimpering, devastated you.

Yandere König would also kill the one who witnessed you two (and what's worse: witnessed you in a vulnerable, naked, quivering state), and I mean kill him right away, then come back to continue the session as if nothing happened 💀 In his mind, it's all very simple: he has to get rid of the one who laid eyes on you, then give you and himself an orgasm. In that order.

For him, there's nothing odd or wrong with striking a bloodied knife on your nightstand when he returns from his quest for blood. He'll insert his still hard cock inside you while speaking sweet nonsense in your ear, cooing how tight you are in a shaky, adrenaline-filled voice. You try to ignore the fact that he now has dried blood on his muscles, but it's no use. König reminds you of what he just did when your face distorts with tight pleasure. "No one is going to see you like this and live," his voice is almost a growl when you cum around that torturingly long cock.

Dominance and prisoner play. König would love to tie you up and use you as his personal fucktoy. And not just for one session… But for a solid, good 24 hours.

He wouldn't tie you too tight, just enough to prevent you from escaping the bed while he goes about his day, drinks a beer or two, comes to you every few hours to either make sweet, slow love to you… or fuck you with pent-up lust.

You being tied and helpless like that makes König attentive and tender one minute, and needy and greedy the next. You never know how it's going to be when he walks through that door, all you know is that he's going to pump you full of his cum.

He stays to watch it ooze out of you – it's actually one of the main events of this whole show because it means he'll have to fill you up again soon. He might also give himself a fap if you look too used and miserable or if you beg for mercy and whimper that you're sore. It's no problem: he's more than happy to cover your body with his seed. He's merciful like that.

When the day is done, you're a mess – inside and out – and he's fucked you stupid more times you can count, giving you so many orgasms that you feel soft in the head. What's fun though is that the man himself is in no better shape: you notice his legs are shaking when he finally comes to release you, looking like he has lost more than a few brain cells due to breaking the Guinness record of fucking you and himself senseless.

If you ever want to fulfill this fantasy, you will receive abundant aftercare. And I mean abundant. Bathing, cooing, pampering, treats, praise, and cuddles galore!

Mirrors. Fucking you in front of a mirror is like watching the best porn ever. Anything with a reflection will do, as long as König can watch you come undone, helpless and needy for his cock while he gets to display his strength. This man will probably install a mirror to your bedroom ceiling without asking your permission, but he prefers doing you from standing, prefers to do the lifting and the work.

Ballet dancer from behind and a stand & carry variation of Nelson are his favorite positions when using mirrors. All you have to do is enjoy... and obey when he tells you to watch what he's doing to you. "Look at that... You like being fucked like this?" he pants in your ear with strain and love while you both can see just how much you like it – his cock is practically glistening from how wet you are.

I'm sorry, were you busy? God forbid if you're wearing a dress or a skirt while making an important call. It doesn't matter if you're sitting: König will approach you, gets on his knees and then starts to kiss his way under your skirt.

Good luck trying to concentrate on that call when there's a horny giant forcing his head under your cute little dress. Soon he's sniffing at your cunt and tries to pull your underwear aside with his teeth. Try keeping your voice normal when he actually succeeds and you feel the first lick sweep over your pussy, flat tongued and hot.

You don't dare to fight him or tell him to stop in the middle of your serious, official and important call, which means you can feel the smiles on your poor wet heat. Of course König notices you're starting to sound like you're half crying... It only spurs him on!

You're a bit disoriented and don't register it at first that this hulking man is already climbing on top of you. It's rare for him to beg, but as he continues to dry hump you and then forces his cock between your thighs in search of your wet heat, you can hear him whisper: "Engel? Bitte... I have to put it in. Don't say no…"

Somnophilia kink. Yep, he has it, because the more helpless you are, the more "loving" he gets. König loves to watch you sleep, safe and secure there in his bed and in his arms. He caresses you like you're the Sleeping Beauty and if you happen to sleep naked (like he always does, this guy is a bit of a nudist at home), his fingers soon drift down to tease your clit, his hips start to slowly grind against your leg until you stir.

Gangbang fantasies where he's the one doing all the banging. One of his fantasies is to have multiple women all to himself. König would never seek to fulfill these fantasies in a committed relationship, but when he was lonely and only had his hand to keep him company, König used to dream he could have a row of women waiting for him when he returned from a mission 🙄

Usually three ladies who all want to worship and touch him and tell him how big he is, how heroic he is. He will command them to all fours, and they obey happily, ready and willing to be used. He does these ladies from behind, switching between them until everyone, including him, is on the brink of an orgasm. In these fantasies he always makes those women cum first. No one can say our King lacks manners! (How cute that he's so sure of himself... Would König even have the willpower to switch from one pussy to the next, not to talk of outlasting three women? I highly doubt that.)

Or how about these girls getting on their knees to suck his cock? In König's desperate, lonesome fantasies, these cute ladies love him so much that they start to fight over who gets to take him in their sweet wet mouth. They will eventually solve the fight by forming a queue – every woman gets half a minute with their King before changing. The long seconds when his cock is bouncing there in the cold air, devoid of a warm mouth, are torture. But he would stand strong!

Our brave soldier falls asleep while imagining how these purring, warm babes would cling to him for warmth and cuddles. Everyone is happy and pleased and he has been loved and worshiped thoroughly. In truth he just came in one minute, then tries to curl into a fetal position in a bed far too small for him. Cooling down from the day's highs, this Goliath is all alone, his last thought being that if he could get just one real woman to admire and love him and hug him before they go to sleep together, he would be the happiest man in the world.

#answered #könig headcanons #könig x you #könig smut #some fluff here too #könig imagine #forgive me father for i have sinned #this turned out so filthy #i have to burn this blog change my name and move out of the country

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: A long weekend with your parents is exactly what you needed. But when they keep asking what happened to your car and inadvertently force you to tone things down in the bedroom, you and Bradley realize you have more to discuss than just a replacement for your totaled pride and joy.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, fluff, smut, loud sex in public, spanking

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

As soon as you and Bradley unloaded the Bronco and had your parents settled inside the Craftsman, you had the uncontrollable urge to fuck your husband. You were trying your best to listen to your mom as she opened up a bottle of wine from your refrigerator, but Bradley was standing on the other side of the island, nodding as he answered one of your dad's questions. Your husband looked hot, and it was then that you realized you hadn't had sex with him since Sunday night. Since before you found out your car was totaled. And something about the impromptu funeral he just threw for your car was making you needy.

Well. You fucked up.

"Bradley didn't have any more hotel points?" your mom asked, finally drawing your attention her way. It was almost laughable now. Bradley had made up the entire thing about the points that were about to expire last year. It was all a ploy to get them to stay at a hotel so you and he could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted to do it, in your own home. You nearly moaned just thinking about it. 

"Nope," you replied softly, reaching down some wine glasses. "No more hotel points, sorry."

"Nonsense," your mom said, waving you off. "Your house is beautiful, but you're still newlyweds. We get it."

You snorted as you sipped your wine. "Mom, it's July. We got married in November. I don't think we're considered newlyweds any longer."

"Hmm," she hummed as she drank from her glass. "Don't tell Bradley that."

When you glanced over at him, he was already looking at you, a soft blush rising in his cheeks. He looked so damn good, shaking his head slightly like he was annoyed you weren't alone, but still smiling like he couldn't believe you were his. 

"That man adores you," your mom added, inspecting the label on the bottle of wine. "Make sure you let him know you adore him, too."

An hour later, after your parents had retired to the spare bedroom, you had Bradley's cock buried deep inside you with his hand covering your mouth and his voice in your ear. "Do you regret it yet?" came his harsh whisper.

Your legs were already shaking as he fucked you from behind, standing up just inside your bedroom with the door closed. You tried to nod as you grasped the dresser and the wall for support. Neither of you had even been able to take the time to get undressed; you just needed it that badly. 

"Yeah, well you should, Baby Girl. Oughta be filled with nothing but regret and my cum."

You tried to moan his name against his hand, but it came out soft and muffled just like he intended as he slammed into you. He knew better than to trust you if he removed his hand, so he kept it right there, pressed tight to your mouth to the point it was almost painful. 

"Next time they visit, they stay at a hotel unless we finish the attic," he grunted as his free hand found your clit. "You look fucking perfect in this little dress, and I'd have had you in the kitchen if they weren't here."

Then his lips found your neck, sucking hard as he fucked you until his thrusts became even more demanding. Your fingers quivered as you held onto the dresser for dear life as he managed to hit just the right spot inside at the same time his rough fingers pinched your clit.

Your orgasm left you shaking as you bit Bradley's palm so hard, he shoved two fingers in your mouth instead. "Fuck," he growled quietly. "Oh, fuck." Then his steady tempo gave way to short strokes and his lips came softly to your ear. "I love you."

He filled you up so well, your dress and thighs were a mess afterwards, and you had to waddle into the bathroom so you didn't drip onto the floor. "Oh my god, Roo," you gasped as you finally took the time to pull your dress off to get yourself cleaned up. He walked in to turn the shower on with his shirt balled up in one hand, and then he smirked as his cum dripped down your legs. 

"Just to be clear, I love your parents. I love when we get to visit with them. I love having them here. But I also love fucking you, and you and I both know you can't keep quiet."

You slipped past him and into the shower. "I know what you want me to say."

"Then just say it, Sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes. "You were right about the hotel. But I was trying to save money for the car."

He wrenched his jeans and underwear off as he joined you in the shower immediately backing you up against the tile wall making you thrum with need all over again. With his left forearm leaning against the wall, he tipped your chin up with his right hand and pressed his body against yours. He could have been intimidating if you weren't so in love with him and also outrageously turned on. 

"Money is not an issue, okay?" he asked, his voice nothing but a deep rumble. "It's never going to be an issue. Pick out the car of your dreams, and it's yours. We will figure out the rest as we go."

You whimpered, "Okay, Daddy." Then you were moaning into his mouth.

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The next morning, Bradley felt a little bad about leaving you without a car, but Nat offered to stop by and pick you and your mom up for brunch. He also felt a little bad about how Bob got booted out of the golf foursome so your dad could join in.

Your dad was sipping a travel mug of coffee on the way to the golf course when he suddenly asked, "How did her car get totaled anyway?"

Bradley almost swerved off the road as he scrambled to point out the window at essentially nothing special as he said, "Did you see that?!"

"What?!" he asked in response, turning to look back.

Bradley swallowed hard and said, "Oh, nevermind. So, uh, how often have you been golfing this summer? Because I'm anticipating being pretty terrible myself. I haven't been out in months."

"Oh, well I told you about Jerry, right?" he asked in response, and Bradley knew he had your father safely distracted as he talked about his golf buddy that he'd known since college for the rest of the drive.

But the next issue arose when they actually made it to the golf cart and Jake started liberally handing out hard seltzers. "Oh, I've never had one of these," your dad told him. 

"They're great," Javy promised, patting him on the back with a grin. 

Bradley already had to share his clubs with your dad, but when he was tipsy by the ninth hole, Bradley had become his glorified caddy. When he looked at one of the cans, he realized why the three of them were laughing so much. These things had 12% alcohol by volume. 

"Jesus Christ," Bradley muttered, considering texting you for help, but you were probably out with your mom and Nat right now. And he was supposed to have your dad home by four for a beach cookout and fourth of July fireworks. 

"So why don't you tell us what you really think of your son-in-law, sir?" Jake drawled obnoxiously as he grinned back at Bradley. It was a shame Bob got the boot instead of Jake or Javy who currently couldn't find his golf ball even though it was on the green right in front of him. 

"Bradley?" your dad asked as if Bradley wasn't standing ten feet behind him. "He's great! Love the guy! Although I have the sneaking suspicion that he was the one who totaled my little girl's car. She just loved that ugly thing, you know?"

"Oh yes, sir," Jake replied. "I've seen that car many times, and it truly was nothing to look at. But what would you say if I told you I know exactly what happened to it?"

"Hangman," Bradley barked. "Tee off. Let's get a move on."

You dad didn't even seem to notice anything was off as he cracked open another seltzer and said, "Oh, there you are, Bradley. Have you tried one of these drinks? They are absolutely delicious."

-------------------------

You and your mom stood side by side on the front porch after lunch when Bradley got back home with your dad. He'd texted you to give you a heads up about the hard seltzers, but you were still surprised when he had to help your father out of the Bronco. He was completely drunk and wearing Javy's New Orleans Saints hat while he laughed hysterically. 

"Oh... shit," your mom said, and she started laughing, too. "Bradley must have had a fun time today."

You had to hold your own giggles at bay as you watched your husband try to wrangle your dad who was now walking to check if there was anything in your mailbox. 

"Mom, he's a mess!"

"Just think, if we move to San Diego, your dad can ruin Bradley's golf outings all the time."

You snorted. There had been some discussion earlier about your parents potentially selling the house in Maryland and making the move to be closer to you. It was all still hypothetical, but you loved the idea of having them nearby. However now you weren't so sure Bradley would share your sentiment. 

"No, no, this way, Dad," he was saying, trying to coax your father up to the porch. 

"How many did he drink?" you asked as your dad awkwardly patted your mom on the head before walking inside and collapsing onto the couch with Tramp licking his face. 

"Not that many?" Bradley replied, running his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, but Jake and Javy were a nightmare, too. I had to drop them both off, because there was no way they could drive. And now we'll be late for this neighborhood beach cookout."

"It's okay," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist while your mom went to get your dad some water. "You got everyone home safely. It's so fucking hot when you're responsible." You kissed the scars on his neck and added, "We could always just make dinner here and watch the fireworks from the back patio?"

The way he sighed in relief let you know that he thought that sounded like a better idea. "Only if that's what you want to do."

"That's exactly what I want to do," you promised him. 

When you turned to walk away, he caught your hand and asked, "Did you give any more thought to what kind of car you want? I didn't like leaving you without one today."

You just shrugged; it still made you completely and utterly sad inside to think about it. You couldn't even imagine anything else parked in the driveway next to the Bronco. "No," you whispered. "Let's talk about it more next week? After they go back to Maryland?"

He nodded. "Serious conversations will include your car and some home renovations."

You looked from him to the couch where your dad was currently snoring and then back to him again. There was no escaping your parents at the moment. "Add San Diego real estate to the list, Roo," you told him with a peck on his cheek as you went in search of what you could make for dinner. 

----------------------------

Sunday afternoon was bright and gorgeously sunny. It was the perfect day for a baseball game. Bradley was nursing a beer at Petco Park while he held your hand, occasionally leaning closer to you so he could converse with your parents who were sitting on your other side. But every time he did so, it got a little harder for him to sit there and behave; you smelled so sweet, and you looked sinful in that shirt. Bradley could only think about the second date he took you on where you and he ended up on the Kiss Cam.

"I was wondering," your mom mused between innings, "how the car got totaled. Who was driving it?"

Bradley shook his mostly empty beer can and jumped to his feet, absolutely unwilling yet again to discuss the truth with your parents. "I am so thirsty," he announced, pretending he hadn't even heard her as you looked up at him with panic in your eyes. "Anyone else need a drink?" 

"I'll take a beer," your dad said, eyes glued to the game as the bottom of the inning started. 

"Absolutely," Bradley replied, silently shocked the man was still drinking today after his hard seltzer incident the day before. There was a beer vendor down at the bottom of the stairs, and Bradley hightailed it in his direction. 

He bought two and turned to look back at you. Christ almighty, he was so fucking horny right now. He'd been in the mood for bed rattling sex, the kind where your voice was hoarse from screaming his name. Last night you fell asleep before he even finished cleaning the kitchen and joined you in bed, and he didn't want to wake you just to clamp his hand over your mouth again. 

"Sir?" the beer vendor asked, trying to hand him the cans. 

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, taking two steps at a time to get back to his seat. He could wait for the loud stuff since your parents would only be here for a little while longer. As he settled in next to you, he passed one beer to your dad and pecked you on the cheek. "Dad, you're supposed to be on a diet," you reminded your father while he ordered two more hot dogs from a different vendor.

"Aww, let him have some fun," Bradley said. "He's on vacation."

You rolled your eyes at him, probably annoyed that he ditched you to answer your parents' never ending attempts at learning exactly what became of your little shit mobile. "You're not helping, Roo."

Your mom just shook her head. "Your father has no self discipline. I'm referring to the junk food as well as yesterday's seltzers."

Bradley leaned in close to your ear and kissed you before whispering. "Is that where you get it from, Baby Girl?"

You quickly turned toward his smirking face. "I have plenty of self discipline," you told him defiantly. "Except when it comes to one thing." You let your hand drift up his thigh slowly as you turned toward the baseball game, feigning interest in the player up to bat. And then you gently palmed Bradley's cock through his jeans and squeezed.

He grunted, but he didn't move your hand away. Rather, he said probably loud enough for your parents to hear, "Do I need to discipline you right now?" It was honestly a wonder they hadn't pieced together what really happened to your car.

Bradley bit back a moan as your lips connected with his earlobe, and you whispered, "I need it." That's exactly how the two of you ended up in the family bathroom, with your jeans and panties pushed down around your thighs and your hands planted on your knees.

"You can't keep your hands to yourself in public, can you?" Bradley asked, rubbing his large palm along your ass and down to tease your pussy with his fingers before spanking you hard.

"No, Daddy," you whined, wiggling your butt back toward him for some more.

He spanked you again. "What's your punishment for grabbing my cock in front of your parents?"

You moaned so loudly, the sound echoed off the tiled walls. "Spanking," you answered, but it really wasn't a punishment at all. He knew it. You knew it, too.

As his palm connected with your gorgeous ass over and over, you didn't even try to keep quiet. Bradley let you be as loud as you wanted here since you couldn't scream his name at the house with your parents there.

"You are doing so well, Baby Girl. You ready for me to fuck you now?"

"Pease, Daddy!" you nearly shouted, and then he was inside you.

He wasn't going slow or trying to make you feel good, he was just fucking you hard and fast. Which was definitely working for you, based on the sounds you were making.

"You're always so fucking wet for me," he growled, hands wrapped tight around your hips. The slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the small space, along with his panting and your whimpers.

"I need it, Daddy," you gasped, voice getting higher as he felt the first squeeze of your pussy around his cock.

He grabbed your waist tighter to keep you steady as he said, "I'm going to fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum. And you'll keep it inside you for the rest of the day." His palm landed on your ass one more time, and then you were spiraling into your own orgasm as he came in your pussy.

A moment later, he watched his semen soak through your lace panties and drip down to the inside of your jeans as you pulled them up. "Oh my god, I love you," Bradley groaned as you opened the door. The line of unamused people waiting for the restroom had you and Bradley laughing as he wrapped his arm around you.

"That was fun, Roo," you said with a grin, placing a kiss on his neck. "I really learned my lesson, too."

"No, you didn't," he whispered, squeezing your waist and making you giggle as he led you back to the seats. "You're a brat, Sweetheart." 

But now he was thinking about how badly he wanted this to be the one that took. He'd spend the rest of his life talking about how he knocked up his wife at a Padres game, but he knew it probably wasn't possible. While he tried his best not to think about it too much, he knew vaguely when your cycle would be starting. 

He pulled you a little closer to his side and kissed your forehead. It didn't matter though. He wouldn't trade this feeling or his smiling wife for anything else in the world. 

------------------------

You were always in tears when it was time to say goodbye to your parents. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted them to sell your childhood home and move to California, but you thought you'd better wait a few days before really discussing it more with Bradley. 

Before you met him, he'd been on his own for so long, you were beginning to think he struggled a bit with sharing his space, which was kind of a revelation since he had never been that way with you. He had welcomed you to move into his home with him almost as soon as he purchased it, and you only saw a few glimpses of frustration from him in those early days. Bradley had an ease about him that made you feel comfortable, but you still knew he'd never truly opened himself up to a woman before you, and that included his living space. The fact that he loved and accomodated your parents as much as they did for him was important to you.

He unloaded the luggage from the back of the Bronco while you hugged your dad and then your mom on the sidewalk outside of the departures door for the airline. "I'll let you know if I'm coming to Annapolis for work in a few weeks," you whispered as your mom kissed your cheek.

"We can try to have dinner together one night," she replied. You watched your dad shaking hands with your husband before he pulled your dad in for a hug. 

"That sounds nice," you told her as tears blurred your vision. You'd been crying so much recently, feeling overly emotional about your car and spending a ton of money on something that you didn't deem necessary. But these tears were the welcome kind. Your heart felt full of love instead of disappointment. 

As your parents disappeared through the sliding doors, Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. "It's kind of late, but when we get back to our quiet house, we should talk about a new car, renovations to our house, and the San Diego real estate market. Me and you and a bottle of wine." Your eyes fluttered closed as one big hand slid down over your belly before settling on your jeans zipper while he kissed your neck. "Just as soon as I fuck you so hard in our bed that you're screaming my name with tears in your eyes."

You moaned as your parents waved through the window, and you and Bradley waved back before you spun in his arms and looked up at his warm eyes. "Take me home right now."

--------------------------

Bradley was a sweaty mess underneath you as your head came to rest on his shoulder. His heart was still pounding, and his cum was slick and sticky between your pussy and his abs. The sound of your voice, soft and hoarse in his ear, gave him goosebumps as your fingers ran up and down his bicep, slowly tracing his tattoo. 

"I love you."

He turned his head to kiss your cheek and rub his mustache along your ear until you laughed. 

"You were loud as hell, Baby Girl," he rasped, knowing full well that he'd been vocal, too. 

"Yeah, well, it's nice to have the house to ourselves again," you responded as you yawned.

"I knew you'd see things my way." Very gently, Bradley asked, "Do you want to talk about new cars?"

Another drawn out yawn escaped you as you rolled off of him. "No, I'm too tired, and I don't really feel like it."

Bradley kissed your shoulder as you burrowed under the blankets. Getting you to focus on this task was clearly going to take as much stamina as he'd just given you in bed. "Fine. We'll do it later."

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I love you."

"I love you, too." 

But Bradley wasn't ready for bed yet, and he knew that the next time your mom and dad were here, he'd need the physical separation. After he got himself cleaned up in the bathroom, he pulled on his boxer briefs, and Tramp followed him upstairs to the huge open space that the two of you only used for storage. It would be a project, but it would be worth it.

---------------------------

If any of this sounded familiar, it's because we have reached this exciting point in the story of Roo and BG. Thank you for being here! Thanks for reading and reblogging and putting a smile on my face. Big thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[craisinsensation1029]

Snuggle Bug

Toji Fushiguro

AO3 :)

just toji being soft and domestic, thats it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

~2k

SFW but minors still shoo

It isn't hard to make assumptions about Toji with just one look.

With his imposing frame riddled with pounds of muscles, enough scars to rival any war hero, and an expression that screams I don’t tolerate nonsense, ever on his face, most people steer clear of him. 

There isn’t much merit in thinking so, but so many easily peg him as a douche, an asshole, a womanizer—someone that probably has the worst opinion on anything ever. 

While Toji has definitely judged more than one book by their cover, only sparing something a glance for no longer than a second before deciding whether or not it would be worth his time, he’s more than happy he was a book you were willing to read.

He still remembers having to build up the courage to ask you out on a date.

Every week he would treat Megumi to a few new books, and low and behold on a calm Sunday afternoon the sweet old manager was showing you the ropes on the cash register. 

He was enchanted by your smile, the natural grace that you had, the zest for life that you conveyed just through your love of reading. At first it was innocent, Toji being just as excited as Megumi for the weekly trip to the bookstore, flying to the children’s section to see if you had any exciting news on any new releases. There was even the time where you decided to do an impromptu story time just for Megumi because it was a slow day.

After that, Toji had to admit that he did get a bit more greedy, making more frequent trips to the bookstore and flashing you a crooked smile when you would look for the bite sized version of him. “Just me,” he’d laugh, hoping that crimson wasn’t painting his cheeks.

When people say expect the unexpected you always thought it was referring to something completely drastic, like seeing actual pigs fly or winning the lottery. Not seeing this big, burly man scratching the back of his neck and blushing while he waited for you to say something, but you couldn’t complain. You simply smiled at him and said, “Well you can read at a higher level than Megumi, right? Let me show you some other books.”

As the weeks went by, Toji was spending more time (and money—but you did give him your employee discount out of the kindness of your shining heart) at the bookstore, whether or not he had Megumi with him. 

“I put something else in the bag.” A cheeky smile that he couldn’t quite decipher was on your face as you pushed his purchase toward him.

He thanked you and was fighting every single urge not to pounce on the bag the moment he stepped out the door. The bit of self control he was able to maintain allowed him to wait until he got to the car, seeing a slip with your number scrawled on it right on top of the books he just bought.

He never felt nervous about making a phone call before that night, but every bit of tension eased from his body when your bright cadence filled his ears over the speaker.

Soon the two of you were texting good morning and good night here and there, the occasional how is your day going. It was far from that though. After a few weeks you were moving on to talking about new shipments of books, mentions of family, future plans. It became routine for both of you to talk on the phone nightly. Even if it was a day that he visited the bookstore, the true cherry on top of the cake was drifting off to sleep with the sound of your voice in his ears.

It only seemed natural for him to ask you out and make you his.

Being with Toji provides you with comfort and security not even money can buy. No one dares to cat call you with Toji by your side.

There’s something just so entertaining about seeing one of the people you adore the most making others cower in fear with just a simple glance, like having a big, vicious dog that growls at everyone in public but snuggles up to you in private.

And when it comes to snuggling, Toji is well versed in that department.

See, he doesn’t really believe in personal space; he can never be too close to you. 

If you’re washing dishes in the kitchen, his arms are wrapping around your waist, bending his head so it's resting in the crook of neck, sighing contentedly as he breathes in your scent.

Sitting on the couch? He’s scooching as close as possible next to you, entwining his fingers with yours, not even looking at whatever is on the television. He damn near crawled in your lap a few times, arguing that it was much more comfortable for him despite your legs screaming in protest.

He doesn’t even care if you’re in the shower, sitting on the toilet seat and waiting until you finish. His go to is usually getting in the shower with you, withstanding the boiling hot water you somehow consider an appropriate temperature. He had to build up his tolerance, feeling like his skin was going to melt off his body if he stayed there longer than five minutes. This would only make you laugh and say, “Toji, stop torturing yourself. I’ll be out soon.” He’d just grunt and give you that pouty face that makes you dab a kiss to his nose.

If you’re taking a bath, he used to drag a chair out from the dining room, but ended up buying a cozy bean bag just to make himself more comfortable and accompany you.

Much like a big dog though, Toji’s spatial awareness seems to be a bit... Lacking.

He doesn’t mean it, you know he doesn’t, but there are times when you swear he is trying to decimate you with the weight of his body.

Especially nights like tonight when he’s coming home late from work. 

Megumi already ate the dinner you made and has been fully entertained by a movie you watched together. Once you made sure he was snuggled in bed with his two favorite stuffed animals, the only thing left to do is wait for Toji to get home.

His job can be pretty unpredictable, leaving him coming home at late hours when the only thing he wants to do is be by your side, feeling the softness and the heat of your body while he closes his eyes and melds into you. 

His stomach is rumbling, screaming for sustenance. When he walks through the door he knows there’s going to be a plate of food already made for him, just waiting to be heated up, but eating is far from being the first thing on his mind. 

Instead he cracks open Megumi’s door first, a small smile forming on his face when he sees his little form tucked in, arms wrapped around those stuffed dogs while his chest gently rises and falls. He closes the door behind him, making the few steps to the bedroom that he shares with you.

It was obvious you tried your best to stay up and wait for him, indicative by the bedside lamp still being on and the book laying facedown on your lap. Though your thrown back head, the bit of drool leaking from the side of your mouth, and soft snores coming from your body shows your efforts were unfortunately in vain.

This just adds to the smile on his face, silently slinking back out of the room so he can eat and take a shower. You’re still blissfully asleep once he emerges from his shower. He carefully opens the dresser, opting for just a pair of boxer briefs.

He turns off the bedside light and carefully secures the place in your book with the bookmark you left next to you on the bed. 

Despite his attempts at being gentle, the bed always creaks beneath his weight when he gets on it. The sound isn’t quite enough to wake you, only stirring a bit in your sleep.

With himself securely in the bed he moves in closer calling your name gently. Still, you only stir, murmuring out something unintelligible while your head turns to the side slightly.

He takes the opportunity to lay his head on your chest, listening to the soft beating of your heart while his fingers are drumming lightly against your stomach. The feeling always makes him melt, indulging in every pliant dip and curve of your body, the velvety texture of your skin such a contrast to the calluses and roughness of his own. 

It isn’t long before his hands are exploring, moving down to caress the swell of your hips and making their way back up to feel the dip in your waist. All the while his head stays on your chest, as if his skull is a sword that will do anything imaginable to defend your heart.

He stays like this for a while, the thumping of your heart serving as his own personal white noise, the sensation of your skin beneath his touch alleviating all the stress of work.

“Mmm,” you groan, slowly opening your eyes only to be greeted by darkness and consumed by heat. “Toji.”

At the sound of your voice he slowly opens his eyes, immediately pulling you closer to him and panting a slew of kisses on your cheek. “You were sleeping when I got in,” he murmurs against your cheek, plopping another kiss there. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

You’re not sure what time you fell asleep, but tap the screen on your phone, squinting at the harshness of its brightness. It’s a bit past four in the morning now, rain beating down gently against the windows.

“Like you’ve cared about waking me up before,” you laugh gently, playfully rolling over to escape both his hold and the slobbery kisses he insists on planting on you.

“Come here.” A fit of giggles leaves your lips as you continue rolling over, just out of reach every time he tries to wrap his arm around you again. He lets you have it for a few more moments, letting you tire yourself until you’re completely breathless with laughter. Like a tiger waiting to strike he ambushes you, caging your body between his arms and letting his weight settle on top of you.

“Toji!” You try your best to contain your squeal knowing Megumi is sleeping just beyond the thin walls.

“What?” His voice is muffled as his head takes refuge in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing softly against the sensitive skin there. He feels your pulse quicken every time his lips brush against your skin. “I missed you.” 

No matter how many jokes you make about canceling his gym membership or making sure he never has another protein shake again you wouldn’t trade the feeling of this for anything. One hand rubs small circles into his back while the other snakes around to the nape of his neck. He nuzzles further into your neck, humming with satisfaction when your fingers thread through hair and delicately massage his scalp.

“I missed you, too.” He doesn’t say anything, but you feel the curve of his lips against your neck as his arms maneuver beneath you, cradling your body tight.  

The warmth of his embrace quickly lulls you back into a state of unconsciousness, only willing for the serenity to end when you wake up, ready to appreciate him with bright eyes, marking another day together.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fluff #jjk fluff #domestic fluff #ebs writes

[buckymorelikefuckme]

"sliding hands under their clothes" + steve? i think he craves a lot of physical affection 🥺

he rly does 🥹♥️ thank you for the prompt! xo

from soft intimacy list

steve rogers x reader

words: 392

It's a lazy Sunday, and Steve is sprawled out on the sofa watching reruns of an old sitcom. You went out to brunch with friends and should be home soon, and if he's being real, he's missed you like crazy. Sure, it's only been a couple hours or so, but he's been feeling a bit clingy lately.

When you do finally return, he's already up and walking to greet you at the door. You barely get out a happy hey before he's sweeping you up into his arms, still holding your keys and purse.

You huff a laugh. “You big puppy.” Steve hums, burying his face in your neck. You run the fingers of your free hand through his hair. “Should I have stayed home?” you ask, teasing yet halfway serious.

“No,” he replies quietly, “but maybe you'll have to let me be a koala for the rest of the day.”

“Easy peasy,” you declare. You let out a surprised giggle when he lifts you off your feet and begins carrying you back to where he'd been lounging. “At least let me change into more comfortable clothes!”

“In a minute,” he promises.

He settles the two of you on the sofa, letting your weight rest on top of him. Your purse and keys fall to the floor with a clatter and you wiggle until you're in the best position. Steve sighs, finally feeling the tension release from his shoulders as he's able to slide his hands beneath your shirt, skin on skin.

You both lie there for a while, watching the show on tv, hands petting wherever they can reach. Some time later, you turn your head to face him, resting your chin on his chest.

“Semi-naked cuddles?” you suggest, grinning when Steve eagerly nods.

Quickly, you undress down to your underwear, and then Steve tugs the blanket off the back of the sofa and throws it over your bodies. He practically melts into the cushions, his hands gliding across every inch of your skin within his reach, and it's not long before you're both blinking drowsily, hardly paying any attention to the tv anymore. Your fingers are tracing nonsensical patterns on his arm, and he feels the flutter of your lashes against his pec.

You place a feather light kiss to his collarbone, snuggling even closer, and within minutes you're asleep.

#bmlfm 1k celebration #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #avengers fic #marvel fic

[blingblong55]

Maybe I need it- 141 +König

Based on a request:

hi!! im here to make a request!! ignore this request if it makes u uncomfortable!! milf/dilf reader x 141 + konig or whoever u want!! maybe they had a few kids from an old marriage or adopted a few children and love them dearly!! then along comes 141 seeing sweet n caring mom/dad readers when they’re on break from their messy and chaotic lives in the military!! seeing readers being so loving and gentle towards their children makes them realize how much they need that domesticity in their lives <3 just an idea hehehe

F!Reader, Milf!reader, Mum!Reader, fluff

A/N: Bc it is race weekend here in Silverstone...I had to include F1 into this...sorry (not really)

You are a mother to 3 precious little kids. After finding out through your last marriage you wouldn't be able to conceive, your husband divorced you and you adopted these three kids later after the divorce was finalised. They have become your absolute world, always the little giggles around base, soldiers have grown fond of your children, always bringing them little toys for when they visit base or asking if they can go the football field and play some friendly game with them. All under your supervision of course. When you made the move to a new base, you found it hard for your kids to visit, always keeping them off base unlike in the previous one.

The men you work with know you have children and are a single mum. They can walk into your office and immediately spot at least three pictures of your children. None of them, or at least him, cared to even think of having kids, considering his job and what he lives through, he'd never want his own mind to ruin something that is so precious and innocent.

This past week, Laswell granted them all a small break. He of course went back to his flat, the same old empty flat, nothing special to hold. By morning on a Sunday, you and your children were sitting on the grass of the local public park, where they'd host watch parties for F1. He had heard about it, but never took much part in anything like that until he saw you four. Two of your children at your sides, tiny hands on your back as the youngest rested on your lap, talking some nonsense that made you chuckle. It was a sight for sure.

-------

Price:

he was the one who said didn't want anything romantic because he wouldn't want anyone to mourn for him (thinks he doesn't deserve it)

The second he saw you, something in him stirred. You were an attractive mum, always happy and interested in what your children had to say/do/show you.

He watched from afar, how this view from afar looked like those romantic movie scenes.

When he saw you and your children cheer on for some driver and how happy the four of you looked, that's when he wanted to approach.

Realised he needed this, the sense of a home, a wife and three kids he can spoil rotten. It was a hidden dream of his, wanted to wake up Saturday mornings, go to the kitchen and find you there, wrap his arms around you and kiss your neck, kids running to the both of you.

Maybe he was meant for more than being a captain, perhaps he could be a dad and a husband, go to races or take your kids carting, have some activity where he can show how much of a dad he is.

Gaz:

Always ran away when he saw signs of love, never needed any reason to come home, and always had his head on the next mission.

He has gotten so used to being a soldier and when he saw you, it was a weird feeling, he wanted that, no, he needed it. He sat far, not paying much attention to the sport on the screen but you four, how good you looked in a cap, wanted to give you his for a change.

Wants to sit on the grass, chase the kids when one would run off, hear your giggles, and have a picnic. Wants to listen to your kids ramble on and on over Ferrari or listen to you when you'd make a strategy for them to overtake the Red Bulls.

It was strange, for the first time in his adult life, he didn't want to run from it, wanted to hold it and never let go of it, wanted to have someone. Wanted to finally settle down, and marry the girl that makes him this excited to be so...domestic

When your kids would jump and chant some driver's name, he would chuckle, what a different life you and he lived. He would wake up to new missions, and you'd wake up to three little kids. He had a cold and boring breakfast, you warm pancakes and little dinos on the table, apple or orange juice as you poured the syrup.

He needed that change, wanted a warm kiss, trip over some car toys and then wake up early to watch some 20 guys go in complicated circles as your three children and you yelled at the tv, "C'mon, you could've used that DRS to your advantage!" you'd stand up. He'd just watch and admire.

Soap:

He is a player, always jumping from warm arms to cold blankets.

He is a young lad, doesn't need to be thinking of a girl to wife or where to live to give your kids a comfortable space to grow in. The second he sees you and your children, made him feel like he was missing something. A child in your arms as you try your best to split your time between your two children.

Maybe he wanted it? maybe he just found you attractive and seeing this side of you stirred something in him? He just can't be honest with himself.

He knows you are divorced, knows you give your kids all the attention you can give and what if he wanted that attention too? would it be bad if your kids had a stepdad?

Seeing how your figure didn't scream 'mum of three' made him want you more, made him want to move into a home, wake up Sundays and do this, sit on the grass and watch some people drive around, just wanted you and kids included.

Perhaps if he does move from where he is, he can for a second pretend he is a father, and make all the other men around jealous. He knows what he should do, but what if you don't need him? König:

He wasn't a fan of the sport but he was bored and needed to just get out of his place. The AustrainGP was happening, of course, he would support the only team that was Austrian.

When he saw your kids wearing orange and cheering for Red Bull, that's when his mind wandered. What would it be of him if he had that?

Sundays with you four, cheering for the team every race weekend, watching your children jump when the drivers would win, watching you watch them, how in love you are with being a mother.

Maybe being a soldier isn't all he could be. Having you there, how lucky he'd be if he had a literal milf as his wife, how attractive you were in civilian clothes, how your kids proved you loved them, and maybe if he was lucky, he could also receive some of your love.

The way you always encouraged your children, gave them so much love and helped them pursue their dreams. Maybe he wanted to be a dad to them, on the weekends stay up and show them how to do things, build and help them destroy them all whilst having you by his side, kissing your cheek anytime he gets so excited.

A weekend full of giggles, cuddles, tea parties and dress-up time. A whole weekend where war, criminals, guns and power had no place in his home...your home. He now yearns for it.

Ghost:

(he is Terminator...y'know..the big buffy Russian guy)

of course, he wouldn't want a family, preferred it that way.

But when he saw you there, kids in arms or at arms reach, the way they clung to you, something deep in him wanted that. It was a scary thought for him to even have. Always finds his pleasure in some woman from time to time(we've seen the comics let's be real)

His mind wandered to Tommy and his family, how he would tell him it was time to settle down, and he'd just brush that off, maybe this was Tommy's sick way of haunting him, making him want a family.

Christmas dinners at your parents, him wearing something to impress them, wrapping paper scattered on the floor the morning of. You, on his lap, as you watched your children unwrap their gifts and how excited he'd be to play with them after breakfast.

Maybe after all the running he had done, life was ready to repay him, give him something to come home to. Fridays after picking the kids up from school, heading to Johnny's, drinks and laughter, kids messing with his vinyl collection, he told them to do that.

He wanted you the most, to wake up and have you wrapped in his arms, morning kisses and how he would have to give himself an extra five minutes to just cuddle you before heading to base. liked how you got all excited and smiled with your children, being a dad, maybe this would be what he needed. Being a husband, the best there could be.

A/N: Anyways, i really hope ya liked it!

Tags: @kiamewrites

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod 141 #ghost cod #cod #mw2 141 #task force 141 #mwii #141 x reader #141 #cod ghost #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod soap #cod price #cod x you #call of duty mw2 #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #cod fluff #cod gaz #cod könig #cod konig #cod x female reader #cod x y/n #cod x oc #cod men x reader #cod men #johnny soap mactavish

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Someday, we’ll all take comfort in the internet’s “dark corners”

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me on SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and beyond!

Platforms decay. Tech bosses, unconstrained by competition; regulation; ad blockers and other adversarial interoperability; and their own workers, will inevitably hollow out their platforms, using ultraflexible digital technology to siphon value away from end users and business customers, leaving behind the bare minimum of value to keep all those users locked in:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

Enshittification is the inevitable result of high switching costs. Tech bosses are keenly attuned to opportunities to lock in their customers and users, because the harder is to leave a platform, the worse the platform can treat you – the more value it can rob you of – without risking your departure.

But platform users are a heterogeneous, lumpy mass. Different groups of users have different switching costs. An adult Facebook user of long tenure has more reasons to stay than a younger user: they have more complex social lives, with nonoverlapping social circles from high school, college, various jobs, affinity groups, and family. They are more likely to have a chronic illness, or to be caring for someone with chronic illness, and to be a member of a social media support group they value highly. They are more likely to be connected to practical communities, like little league carpool rotas.

That's the terrible irony of platform decay: the more value you get from a platform, the more cost that platform can extract, a cost denominated in your wellbeing, enjoyment and dignity.

(At this point, someone will pipe up and say, "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." It's nonsense. Dignity, respect and fairness aren't frequent flier program perks that tech companies dribble out to their best customers. Companies will happily treat their paying customers as "products" if they think those customers can't avoid other forms of rent-extraction, such as "attention rents")

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Now, consider the converse proposition: for younger users, platforms deliver less value. Younger users have less complex social lives on average relative to their parents and grandparents, which means that platforms have fewer ways to sink their hooks into those young users. Further: young users tend to want things that the platforms don't want them to have, right from the first day they sign up. In particular, young users often want to conduct their socializing out of eyesight and earshot of adults, especially parents, teachers, and other authority figures. This means that a typical younger user has both more reasons to leave a platform as well as fewer reasons to stay there.

Younger people have an additional reason to bail on platforms early and often: if your online and offline social circles strongly overlap – if you see the same people at school as you do in your feed, it's much easier to reassemble your (smaller, less complex) social circle on a new platform.

And so: on average, young people like platforms less, hate them more, and have both less to lose and more to gain by leaving one platform for another. Sure, some young people are also burning with youth's neophilia. But even without that neophilia, young people are among the first to go when tech bosses start to ratchet up the enshittification.

Beyond young people, there are others who tend to jump ship early, like sex-workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#sex-tech

Sex-workers' technology changes are only incidentally the result of some novelty-seeking impulse. The real reason to change platforms if you're a sex-worker is that the platforms are either absolutely hostile to sex-workers, or profoundly indifferent to the suffering their policy changes rain down upon them.

The same is broadly true of other disfavored groups, including those with out-of-mainstream political ideologies. Some of these groups hold progressive views, others are out-and-out Nazis, but all of them chafe at the platforms' policies at the best of times, and are far more ready to jump ship when the platforms tighten the noose on all their users.

This is where "dark corners" come in. The worst people on the internet have relocated to its so-called dark corners – privately hosted servers, groupchats, message-boards, etc. Some of these are notorious: Kiwi Farms, 4chan, 8kun, sprawling Telegram groupchats. Others only breach when they are implicated in waves of unthinkably cruel and grotesque crimes:

https://www.wired.com/story/764-com-child-predator-network/

The answer to crimes committed in the internet's dark corners is the same as for crimes committed anywhere: catch the criminals, prosecute the crimes. But a distressing number of well-meaning people observe the nexus between dark corners and the crimes that fester there, and conclude that the problem is with the dark corners, themselves.

These people observe that social media platforms like Facebook, and intermediaries like Cloudflare, DNS providers, and domain registrars constitute a "nexus of control" – chokepoints that trap the online lives of billions of people – and conclude that these gigantic corporations can and should be made "responsible" for their users:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

From there, it's a short leap to conclude that anyone who isn't in a position to be controlled by these too big to jail, too big to fail, relentlessly enshittifying corporations must be pushed into their demesne.

This is a deal with the devil. In the name of preventing small groups of terrible people from gathering in private, beyond the control of the world's insufferable and cruel tech barons, we risk dooming everyone else to being permanently within those unworthy billionaires' thumbs.

This is why people like Mark Zuckerberg are so eager to see an increase in "intermediary liability" rules like Section 230. Zuckerberg's greatest fear isn't having to spend more on moderators or algorithms that suppress controversial subjects:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/03/instagram-users-outraged-by-app-limiting-political-content-ahead-of-elections/

The thing he fears the most is losing control over his users. That's why he bought Instagram: to recapture the young users who were fleeing his mismanaged, enshittified platform in droves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

A legal mandate for Zuckerberg to police his users is a legal requirement that he surveil and control those users. It's fundamentally incompatible with the new drive in competition circles to force Zuckerberg and his fellow tech barons to offer gateways that make it easier to escape their grasp, by allowing users to depart Facebook and continue to socialize with the users who stay behind:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

Remember: the more locked-in a platform user is, the harder that platform will squeeze that user, safe in the knowledge that the cost of leaving is higher than the cost of staying and tolerating the platform's abuse.

This is the problem with "feudal security" – the warlord who lures you into his castle fortress with the promise of protection from external threats is, in reality, operating a prison where no one can protect you from him:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/08/leona-helmsley-was-a-pioneer/#manorialism

Rather than fighting to abolish dark corners because only the worst people on the internet use them today, we should be normalizing dark corners, making it easier for every kind of user to find a cozy nook that is shaded from the baleful glare of Zuck and his fellow, eminently guillotineable tech warlords:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/15/normalize-dark-corners/

Enshittification is relentless. The collapse of the restraints that penalized tech companies who abused their users – competition, regulation, interoperability and their own workers' consciences – has inculcated every tech boss with an incurable enshittification imperative.

Efforts to make the platforms safer for their users can only take us so far. Fundamentally, these vast, centralized systems that vest authority with flawed and mediocre and frail human dictators (who fancy themselves noble, brilliant and infallible) will never be safe for human habitation. Rather than focusing on improving the platforms, we should be evacuating them:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/09/let-the-platforms-burn/

Online communities that control their own moderation policies won't always get it right. But there is a whole host of difficult moderation calls that can never be adequately handled by outsiders overseeing vast, sprawling platforms. Distinguishing friendly banter from harassment requires the context that only an insider can hope to possess.

We all deserve dark corners where we stand a chance of finding well-managed communities that can deliver the value that keeps us stuck to our decaying giant platforms. Eventually, the enshittification will chase every user off these platforms – not just kids or sex-workers or political radicals. When that happens, it sure would be nice if everyone could set up in a dark corner of their own.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

#pluralistic #online harms #interoperability #dma #interop #feudal security #switching costs #dark corners #web theory #darknet #platforms #enshittification #evacuate the platforms #bulletproof hosting #incentives matter #platform decay #shitty technology adoption curve

[collecting-stories]

Blueberry BBQ - Carmen Berzatto

Request: no.

Summary: reader works at The Bear balancing their books and has a major crush on Carmy but they never talk aside from business. A dinner party brings them closer together.

A/N: Just some nonsensical drabble cause I love Carmy.

The Bear Masterlist

✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎ ✳︎

“Are you making that bbq sauce for the burgers this time?” Marcus asked, turning away from his chocolate cake for a split second to look at you.  

Mikey had hired you a week before he died to help balance the books at the Beef. After he was gone Richie stuck you on the counter, waiting on customers like you didn’t have a bachelors in finance, and telling you not to go in the back office. Now that Carmy was around, and attempting to make the Beef float, you were back were you belonged, in the office and away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.  

You were no chef…you’d hesitate to even really call yourself a proper cook…but you knew what you liked and you knew how to make it taste good. “I don’t know…last time Angel complained.”  

“That’s because Angel puts ketchup on everything like a five year old,” Tina called from her station, the distinct chop of onions echoing after her comment.  

“What are you making?” Syd asked, adding a quick, “behind” as she passed Tina to grab a pot.  

“It’s Sunday night dinner,” Marcus replied, ignoring the headshake Tina gave him. No real offence to Sydney but you knew she’d tell Carmy and whether or not he actually would come, you kind of didn’t want the pressure of thinking he might show up. Even with your job at The Beef you were far from understanding the “food world” but you’d tried Carmy’s cooking a few times and it was leagues better than anything you attempted on a good day. There was no way you wanted him even thinking you set foot in a kitchen, let alone trying something you made.  

“Sunday night dinner?” Syd echoed.  

And then the cursed, “what’s Sunday night dinner?” Carmy’s voice. He’d come in from a smoke break and you took three large steps back to the office, as if you hadn’t set foot in the kitchen to begin with. Marcus looked at his boss and then at you (wide eyed and trying not to visibly shake your head at him) and then back to Carmy.  

“It’s uh,”  

“Nothing.” Tina cut in. “It’s nothing. Get back to work eh, Jeff?”  

“Yeah,” Carmy looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just nodded, blue eyes a little glazed, “yeah.”  

In the comfort of the office, you get back to work on payroll for the week, slipping your airpods in to drown out the sounds of the kitchen. Just over the softer lull of Evermore you could hear Carmy yell at Richie, his brother’s best friend shouting right back. It wasn’t always (or ever) the best environment for working but you liked it. You liked it when Mike was working there and you somehow managed to like it a little more now that Carmy was running the show, though that could just be that you liked Carmy. Outside of work, you didn’t have too many conversations but he was pretty to look at and you liked the brief interactions the two of you had, even if it was just asking about accounts and other boring stuff he didn’t have the patience for on his own.  

The whole incident (that might be an over exaggeration of the event though you’d honestly be tempted to call it a debacle and it probably wasn’t that either) had been mostly forgotten by the time the dinner rush was rolling around and you were clocking out. More than thrilled to both be home before dark and to continue your mostly Carmy-free shift. He was so busy out in the kitchen and fighting with Richie that you hadn’t seen him. Though by now you were positive he had forgotten the mention of Sunday night dinner.  

You waved to Syd, promised to text Marcus, and slipped out the back door into the alley. If you went out the front Richie would stop you and then you’d be listening to his bullshit for another hour (at least).  

“Sneaking out?” Carmy’s tone was teasing and you spun around to find him sitting on a milk crate, smoking what was probably his sixth or seventh cigarette of the day.  

“Didn’t wanna hear about Richie’s date,” you shrugged, the strap of your backpack digging at your collar momentarily when your shoulder went up and then dropped back into place.  

“It was a bust.” 

You nodded, “kinda feel bad for him,” you mused. You didn’t hate Richie, in fact you found him kind of funny. Even when he’d kicked you out of the office and relegated you to the counter you’d liked him too much to complain.  

“You wanna date him?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as if he was issuing some kind of challenge.  

“Oh, I don’t feel that bad.” You laughed.  

Carmy smiled and you were ready to say goodnight when he opened his mouth again. Maybe you should have gone the front way. “So what’s this Sunday night dinner?”  

You shook your head as if the whole ordeal wasn’t that major to begin with. Maybe if it sounded lame, if you sounded like you weren’t that bothered with it, Carmy wouldn’t want to go. Not that you thought he wanted to spend his time off the clock hanging out with you. “Oh it’s nothing, I’m just…making dinner for like, Marcus and Tina and everybody.” 

He frowned. An actual, eyebrows scrunched, hooded eyes drooped, frown. “You cook?”  

“Not, no, not like…I mean…it’s probably cardboard compared to you.” You laugh, “not that I’m, ya know…comparing myself to you or anything.” You replied, stumbling slightly over your words.  

“Must be pretty good…everybody’s going.”  

“Well, anyone’s invited…I mean, if you wanted to come you could. I think Marcus is bringing some dessert and Tina and Ebraheim usually bring something too.” You shrugged again, an impulsive movement as you tried to make yourself sound cool and collected. It was just Carmy…the guy looked like he was homeless, he shouldn’t be as intimidating as he was.  

“What are you making?”  

“It’s just burgers.” You replied, downplaying the fact that you’d specifically overpaid for waygu beef because Marcus claimed it tasted better. Who were you to know. 

“I’ll bring something.” The offer sounded more like a sure statement. Not only would he be there but he would bring something.  

“Okay…” you trailed off, “well, see you tomorrow.” 

You were pretty sure you’d never left The Beef so quickly in your entire life. Sunday was supposed to be a relaxing day off and an attempt to actually be somewhat sociable because god knows quarantine was rough, even with a steady job.  

But now Sunday was just anxiety bubbling in your stomach while you made the plum bbq glaze that Marcus liked so much. You’d imagined nothing more than calling up your mom to complain about how often you put your foot in your mouth but as you reached for the telephone you realized the only one around to listen to you talk about this weird crush you had on Carmy was your cat. The monster in question was a long haired black cat that the lady on the top floor had adopted before covid. She’d named him Rigoletto after the Italian opera and then decided she didn’t want him anymore.  

“That place down the street is hiring…although I’m not so sure I wanna work at an H&R Block.” You mused, scratching under Rigoletto’s chin before leaving him on the arm of the couch to finish the bbq sauce. “And I do really like the Beef…but what if Carmy hates this? And he fires me or something…is that crazy?”  

The cat didn’t have the chance to answer because the buzzer by your door went off. It was a little too early for anybody who usually showed up to arrive though you suspected it could be Syd (she’d been invited now too, along with Richie who had to decline because it was his Sunday with his daughter).  

You hit the button to unlock the front door without confirming who was there. Not a great habit but you were technically expecting someone and you tended to get a little lax with security every now and then. You propped the door to your apartment so that whoever you’d buzzed (Syd surely, maybe Ebraheim) would be able to just come right in.  

But as luck would have it, it wasn’t Syd that came through the door to your apartment. It was Carmen, holding two foil trays cause he promised he’d bring something (and okay, sure, maybe he over did himself for just a hang out in your apartment but so sue him if he wasn’t trying to impress you).  

“Hey uh…your cat looks like it’s gonna climb me.” He half greeted, half warned, staring down at the cat that had jumped off the couch and come over to greet him. Yellow eyes stared up at his blue ones, back hunched like it was ready to pounce and Carmy briefly imagined the cat jumping right into the trays in his hands.  

Before any worst case scenarios could happen you scooped the cat up in your arms, apologizing and telling Carmy he could lay the trays on the small island in your kitchen. “He’s super friendly,” you promised though you left him in your room and closed the door, “he’s a big fan of Chester.” 

“Marcus’ roommate?” Carmy almost laughed.  

“Yeah he uh, what are you doing?” You speedwalked the short distance back to the kitchen when you realized that Carmy had moved over to inspect the sauce you were making, spooning a tiny bit out and taking a bite.  

“It’s good, maybe a little maple syrup?” He offered, as if this was The Beef’s test kitchen. Without waiting for your okay he went to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of maple syrup. You wondered briefly if he had some sort of psychic sense that let him know you had maple syrup on hand or if Carmy just expected all the ingredients he needed to be right where he needed them at all times. “What’s this?”  

“It’s salad dressing,” you supplied, shifting awkwardly as he shook the bottle of salad dressing he’d plucked off the shelf. 

You watched him pop the lid and stick a clean butter knife in the jar, pulling it out and taste testing the dressing. This was objectively worse than you imagined inviting Carmy to your house would be. “Shit, that’s fire.”  

You could feel your face heat up at the compliment, though that was immediately out of your mind as Carmy continued his inspection of your fridge. When he started eyeing a tupperware of soup from last night, you reached over and closed the door on him, “okay; let’s be finished going through my fridge?”  

“Sorry,” he held his hands up in surrender, the bottle of dressing still in one hand. “I didn’t know you cooked.” It was the same thing he’d said to you earlier though it didn’t hold the same genuine surprise as it had earlier. Instead, he looked almost contemplative, as if finding something out about you that he hadn’t known before meant something you weren’t aware of.  

“Nothing serious,” you promised, going back to check on the burgers and looking back at Carmy, “would you…check these. I know it sounds dumb but, cooking meat gives me anxiety.”  

“It gives you anxiety?” He said it like he was trying not to laugh, a smile threatening his features as he set the dressing back in the fridge and came over to stand a little too close to you.  

“If you don’t cook it enough you could kill someone and if you cook it too much it’s gross,” you replied, glancing half over your shoulder at him as he leaned in to check the state of the burgers.  

“Alright…if you let me try the soup.”  

You caved, “fine.” Passing the wooden spatula and stepping to the side. “If Marcus asks, I totally cooked them myself.”  

Carmy nodded, grinning, “yeah alright.”  

Cooking with him, without the imminent pressure of a working kitchen, was more fun than you imagined it would be. When you’d wandered into the kitchen area of the Beef back when Mike was still around, he was always joking and talking shit with Richie. Carmy didn’t necessarily run a tighter ship but he was more serious about food and cooking and there was less time for bullshitting. You assumed the quiet intensity was how he always was but you realized that was an unfair judgement. He was relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen him be, that confidence in his food coming through with quiet remarks about this meal or that, shitty food he’d eaten while he was working in New York and stories about the CIA.  

- 

By the time everyone had finished eating and gone home, leaving you with a mess of plates and cutlery, you were a little tipsy but genuinely happy. It hadn’t been as stressful as you were making it out to be in your mind and Carmy relaxed on a Sunday night was completely different from Carmy in the kitchen at work.  

“You have a system or?” His voice broke your train of thought as you wiped the last crumbs off the table and realized that he was standing at your sink, kitchen towel over his shoulder.  

“You don’t have to help me clean up,” you tossed the crumbs and came over to the sink, “I mean you fixed the burgers.”  

“I didn’t ‘fix’ them,” he almost looked like he was gonna laugh. “I just helped them along.”  

“Well either way, you shouldn’t have to clean up too.”  

“I don’t mind.” He promised, “now, you got a system?”  

“Not really,” you shook your head, “but I don’t have a dishwasher so everything’s by hand.”  

“I got time.” Carmy promised and you couldn’t help feeling like your heart was going to thud right out of your chest, “besides you promised me some of that soup.”  

“You just ate like a whole meal Carm, you’re not seriously gonna have soup at midnight are you?” You asked though honestly you didn’t think you would be surprised if the answer was that yes, he would have soup at midnight.  

“Yeah if it’s good,” he joked.  

You shook your head, not answering and instead focusing your attention on drying dishes too large to fit in the rack beside your sink. The frying pan went back on the stove with the pot beside it. While Carmy finished the very last of the dishes you let Rigoletto out of your bedroom, the cat stretching languidly as he appraised the room.  

“My mom had a cat once,” he mentioned, eyeing Rigoletto as he approached the kitchen area, “ended up giving it to the neighbor cause it jumped on the counters all the time. Nothing like cat hair in your chicken picante.”  

“Rigoletto’s too fat to make it to the counter.” You replied, “if he did I’d be too impressed to be upset with him.”  

“What are you doing?” Carmy watched you curiously as you got a bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed a bag of granola.  

“Homemade granola,” you shook the bag, “it’s for the top of the soup.” When he didn’t say anything you added, “just trust me.” 

“It’s your recipe.”  

“I feel like that wasn’t as confident sounding as I wanted it to be,” you laughed, passing the heated up bowl across the counter to him, granola sprinkled over the top, “it’s apple and brie soup.”  

“Apple?” 

“Okay, like you’ve made some weird fucking shit before Carm. Don’t act like this is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard of.”  

He raised his hands in surrender, spoon teetering between his fingers briefly before he was leaning forward to take a bite. “To be fair, I rarely see you even near the kitchen at work.”  

“Well I’m not as good as anyone there, I just like trying different stuff on my own time.”  

“This is really good,” he mentioned, taking another spoonful, “you have a recipe?” 

“Yeah, I have a notebook somewhere.” You weren’t a hundred percent sure where you’d placed your notebook though you knew it was floating around somewhere in the apartment.  

“Show me?” He asked, then, “not right now…just whenever.” The request was vague and you knew that ultimately you could just take it to mean showing him the actual handwritten recipe that you used to make the soup that he was almost finished eating but it could also mean actually cooking with him. Something that, 24 hours ago would have definitely scared the shit out of you. Cooking with someone like Carmy? That was out of the question.  

“When do you ever have free time?” You kept the question light, a joke more than an observation of his life, “I was surprised you came tonight.”  

“I thought about not coming,” he shrugged, “figured if you wanted me to you woulda asked yourself but…” the sentence teetered off and you took a few seconds silence to really weigh how your relationship with Carmen looked from his end.  

“Sorry, it’s not that you aren’t invited or anything…just that you’re kinda intimidating and if you were coming over than I’d wanna impress you and if I didn’t at least make edible food I’d be embarrassed.”  

“It could use a little fine-tuning but it’s not bad by any stretch.”  

“Okay,” you almost laughed at the bluntness of his statement. Ask him anything else and he clammed up but ask him about food and he was direct.  

“Sorry I-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you shook your head quickly, wanting him to understand that you weren’t at all bothered by the comment. Maybe if you were in an actual professional in a kitchen...you’d heard him and Syd go at it before over a dish and you knew that Carmy could be mean when he was in ‘kitchen-mode’. “I mean, aside from you, the only people who eat what I cook are like...my parents. And what are they gonna say?” 

Carmy didn’t say anything, taking the empty bowl and placing it in the sink. He looked like he wanted to say more but instead he reached for his coat, “thanks for letting me invite myself.”  

“Hey, anytime you wanna come over...” You admitted. Tonight hadn’t been as scary as you thought it was and, in all honesty, you kind of liked having Carmy here. Getting to see him more relaxed was nice and cooking with him was somehow better. “Besides, I promised to show you the soup.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. Trying to fix the Beef, pay off Jimmy, and generally just exist didn’t leave a whole lot of free time but he didn’t think he would mind making some just so he could stand around in your kitchen with you again. It felt almost the way he used to feel when Mike was still alive and everything still had a layer of candy-coating on it. That sort of simple, ‘if I don’t leave this moment nothing can go wrong’ feeling that tightened his chest and made him feel warm.  

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” You phrased it like a question but it was a fact.  

“Tomorrow.” He agreed.  The possibility of it already making him eager for the morning.

#Carmy x reader #Carmy imagine #Carmy x y/n #Carmy x you #Carmy fanfic #Carmy x gn! reader #Carmen Berzatto x reader #Carmen Berzatto x you #Carmen x Berzatto x y/n #Carmen Berzatto fic #Carmen Berzatto drabble #Carmen Berzatto oneshot #Carmen Berzatto fluff #Carmy fluff #The Bear imagine #The Bear fanfiction #The Bear fanfic #The Bear fic #The Bear oneshot #The Bear drabble #collecting stories imagine

[neopuppy]

Switch (M)

Preview: “You’ll never guess who I have a date with tonight.” Your mom exclaims. Jamming her breasts into a garment tearing at the seams.

“Is that my dress?!” You shriek, ignoring her excitement.

“Shut up. When have you ever paid for anything in that closet, hmm?“ she reprimands. Smoothing the too tight fabric gathering at her waist. “You’re going to be so jealous. The hottest single dad in town finally asked me out.”

“..wait, you mean..” you near gag. Sitting up from your bed, gawking at her tawdry appearance with disgust.

“Yup.” She goes on boasting. “Finally snagged Johnny Suh’s eye.”

Pairing: Johnny x female reader x Jeno

Word Count: 20k

Genre: Jeno’s dad has got it going on AU, pwp, dc/nc elements(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), extraordinarily filthy, M/F

Warning: Johnny is Jeno’s dad— and not a good one, cheating, manipulation, black mailing, morally corrupt overall, terrible people, age difference(legal), power imbalance

Smut Warning: threesome(lets just get that out of the way), loss of virginity, corruption kink, daddy kink, breeding, rough oral(M receiving), cock warming, breath play, choking, hair pulling, praise, degradation, smut

a/n: please do not read if these warnings make you uncomfortable! this is all fictional💙

Today had to be a mistake. A complete mistake.

Who knew daydreaming would end up leading to such a wild demise; something straight out of freaky fanfiction. It’s not as if you could help but circle around the block near half of your Sunday afternoon when Mr. Suh decided to wash his Range Rover, shirtless.

It just wasn’t fair. Despite how much your thighs ache after an hour of peddling around, you couldn’t look away. Cheesy porno music accompanied the thoughts colliding rapidly in your head. The sun seemed to only beam on him like a stage light focused on the show's star.

Johnny tormented you, as well as every woman, and man, with working eyes within a mile radius. Choosing to lift weights in his oversized garage. Most of the time he at least had the decency to wear a tank top with the garage door wide open. Until about mid-way, once he was drenched in sweat. Stepping out onto the driveway to strip and wring out his soaked wife beater. His biceps would ripple, chest tightening down the middle, pecs bouncing as his shoulders would roll back for extra effect. He had to know what he was doing.

You weren’t the only one pretending to stay active while salivating with your gaze glued to the luxurious house placed in the middle of the neighborhood. Johnny drew in quite the audience. Mrs. Lee who would oftentimes hose off the kids skateboarding by, missing the aim completely for her rosebuds. Even Mr. Lee would stand by her side at times, his eyebrows furrowed roughly in concentration. Puffing his chest out further for some hopeless significance of manhood.

Mr. Suh emerged straight out of wet dreams. Rushing home to write nonsense in your diary after the day he finally noticed you. The circumstance was not ideal, having fallen on your bike distracted by the sound of the ice cream man's tune approaching. Patting the pocket on your overalls for coins, something sweet and cold that could help soothe your dry mouth. Saliva exiting after hours in the sun admiring your neighbor.

It’s a page you read over weekly as the years go on. The way Johnny smiled at you while examining your ankle tenderly. Cooing as he said “Ah, you poor thing. Does it hurt badly?”

God. More than he’d ever understand.

The wrapper to the ice cream bar Johnny bought you after helping you back onto your feet posters the next page. Smoothed down and glued, screaming to yourself at the memory of his large hand gently patting the back of your head as you sucked at the fruity ice.

“Be careful will you? It’d be a shame for a pretty little girl like you to stay locked up all summer wearing a cast if you end up getting injured.”

He called you pretty, and that was more than enough to drive you absolutely mad. Diary entries turned into a secret anonymous blog over the years, filled with pornographic images and videos. Typed out private fantasies of your neighbor whisking you away, carried over the threshold as his young wife.

There’s just one problem.

“You’ll never guess who I have a date with tonight.” Your mom exclaims. Jamming her breasts into a garment tearing at the seams.

“Is that my dress?!” You shriek, ignoring her excitement.

“Shut up. When have you ever paid for anything in that closet, hmm?“ she reprimands. Smoothing the too tight fabric gathering at her waist. “You’re going to be so jealous. The hottest single dad in town finally asked me out.”

“..wait, you mean..” you near gag. Sitting up from your bed, gawking at her tawdry appearance with disgust.

“Yup.” She goes on boasting. “Finally snagged Johnny Suh’s eye.”

“You?! But!—“

“Tsk, don’t act so surprised you little brat.” She snickers. Painting a bright red lip on, finishing with a wink. “I know how much it's breaking your little heart that the first love of your life will be buried 9 inches deep inside me in less than 6 hours.”

“Why would he ask you out?!” You fret. Having to mute your vengeful tongue from throwing out an insult with the question.

“He goes to the gym I joined last month. I’ve been planting the seeds, watering and attending to them daily. They’re finally growing, mother knows best darling.”

“Disgusting..” you quietly mutter. Appalled by the way your mothers curves fill out your clothing better than you ever have.

Johnny was off limits, didn’t she understand that? He wasn’t just the first love of your life. Johnny Suh had become the only reason you even woke up everyday.

The day your father had discovered your mother sleeping with the young man that used to mow the lawn and pretend to trim the hedges should have been a terrible memory. They screamed at each other, arguing all day about who should get the house out of the divorce. Shouting to the high heavens until your head throbbed and you decided to step outside.

That’s the day a young single successful man named Johnny Suh moved into the neighborhood with his son. A house that had been under construction for what felt like years finally completed. Moving trucks covered most of your view as you walked by. Too curious for your own good, you snuck between the trucks to find a spot that would still conceal you enough to find out who’s moving in.

That’s when you first see Jeno. Zipping through the three car garage on rollerblades with a wide smile taking over his face. He has to be about your age, and clearly athletic. Not once stumbling as he spins on the rows of wheels.

“Son, can you do that out on the sidewalk? You’re getting in the movers way.”

Jeno wasn’t just getting in the movers way. He was also in your way.

While your mother finally forcing Johnny to ask her out on a date threw a wrench into any of your hard manifestations, Jeno was a whole other issue.

Jeno isn’t just an issue, he’s a nightmare. Some may say it’s your fault— it’s not.

The entry in your diary skirts over the first time you meet. Jeno transferred to the local school district later on. His dad allowed him to finish junior high with his friends. While you passed each other many times while playing outside, interactions never surpassed more than eye contact.

That is until the first day of your Freshman year. Jeno sits behind you in homeroom, clearing his throat before tapping your shoulder.

“Hey, aren’t you my neighbor?” He asks, voice just entering puberty and cracking mid-sentence.

“Uhm..Yeah, I think so?”

Jeno scoffs, placing his feet on the back of your seat, leaving footprints on your uniform skirt to find later when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom.

The thing about Jeno is— he’s perfect. Adapts easily, instantly worshipped by all. Every girl wants to date him, every guy wants to be his friend. Jeno is cool, he’s attractive, he always sports the latest in high-end apparel. Uniform accessorized with coats and jackets that cost more than your tuition. He’s amazing, funny, good at everything he tries from the first attempt.

Jeno’s used to everyone fawning over him, that is until you don’t.

“You think so?” His eyes roll to the side. Shoving strands of your loose hair off his desk. “You pass by my house everyday. Got a crush on me or something?”

“Ew. No.” You snap, inching away from the toes of his shoes digging into your spine.

“I think you do.” Jeno says in a rude manner. Pencil poking your shoulder blade from behind matching up the mean laced tone in each syllable. “You’re not exactly my type though. I like girls with confidence, who know how to put themselves together.”

Jeno leans over, nose scrunched up. Eyeing you up from your worn down sneakers to the loose thigh high socks unkempt with fuzzy wads of fabric from too many washings. He snorts softly, leaning back into his seat again with a smirk. Scribbling something quickly before crinkling it up and throwing it at your head.

“Ow!”

“Shhh,” Jeno winks, nodding to the balled up piece of paper that lands in your lap. “You have mail.”

The note reads ‘Virgin? Check Yes or No.’

“What?” You mutter, shooting your neighbor a glare. Shredding the note up to be forgotten, returning to focus on your studies for the day.

“Knew it.” Jeno announces loud enough, inching over his desk for his lips to reach the shell of your ear. “Virgin written all over you. Who’d fuck you anyway?”

The unfortunate thing is, Jeno never let that moment go. Throughout high school he made sure to let everyone know that you are unfuckable. Good for nothing but finishing his assignments.

The reality is you tried to date, hooked up with various guys from your school. Even some of Jeno’s friends, but it was never enough for you to let any slide all the way home.

Boys your age could never compare to Mr. Suh. The thought of losing your virginity to anyone besides Johnny made you nauseous, no matter how delusional it was.

Between Jeno’s endless torment following you to college and your mother’s budding relationship with your childhood crush, the situation had begun to seem hopeless.

That is until your 18th Birthday.

“Johnny’s coming over for dinner later.” Your mom informs you while cooking up your favorite meal. The only way she’s spoiling you today.

“What??” Jumping up in your seat, you nearly choke on the water you’d been sipping on.

“I invited him, we’ve been seeing each other for 6 months now. Things are getting serious, it’s time you two properly meet. Johnny’s been suggesting it for weeks.” Your mom faces you, a wooden spoon waving your direction sternly. “I don’t want to hear no lip from you about it.”

As if you cared to argue over the news. Your only concern immediately shifted to what you could possibly scramble together from your closet for the evening. The sweats you’d lazed around the house in all day would no longer suffice with the Johnny Suh sitting across from you.

Neither would the grease that had collected on your T-zone. Leave it to your mother to spring this information on you with only two hours to prepare before the love of your life showed up.

Typical, as if she’d ever allow for you to upstage her. Even on your Birthday— very well could be any other day according to your mother.

A crop top that sat just at the top of your ribs and a high waisted pleated skirt would have to be enough. If she’d had the decency to inform you sooner, you could have begged for money. Made a trip to the mall for an appropriate outfit that would impress Johnny more than this.

“Are those my boots?” You mother’s brow quirks as you move around to set up the table. “What have I told you about borrowing my belongings??”

“None of my shoes look good with this..” you mumble under your breath. It’s not that nothing looked good, but every scuffed up pair of sneakers you tried out only seemed to amplify your immaturity. This was your entry into adulthood after all, in more ways than one.

“Go take those off righ—“ she starts with a furious gleam in her eye. Saved by the bell as the front door rings. Earning a squeal from your mom, jumping up to kick her ankles together before removing the apron she’d worn to cook. Smoothing the much too form fitted dress down her hips, making her way down the hall with hips swaying left to right to greet your special guest.

Mr. Suh’s warm greeting echoes off the walls, Italian leather footsteps following along with the click of your mother’s heels back to the dining room.

He’s wearing a tailored deep grey suit, white button up done up to his neck. Long and elegant where he stands at the entrance with hands in his pocket dawning a gentle smile. Hair coiffed, held away from his face to bring his cheekbones forward. Jawline sharp enough to cut through paper, enhancing his long sensuous eyes. The only man that could ever hold a candle to him, none other than Eros; the Greek god of carnal love.

“Fuck me.” You whisper with pursed lips. Subtly sucking at the drool trying to find an escape route down your chin.

“We finally meet!” Johnny exclaims, stepping forward with a hand held out. “You know what, I feel like I already know you!”

He throws himself toward you, knees bending slightly to gather you in a giant bear hug. Wind knocked out your chest more from the shock than the pressure. Enough to have you gasping where your lips land on his bicep, bulging under the material of the crisp Armani suit.

“Ah..yeah.” You stutter, looping an arm around his trim waist. He’s firm—years of exercising to maintain his build evident, dizzying scent, warmly hugging you with the majority of his torso covering your daintier frame. “It’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Suh..”

“Don’t be silly, you can call me Johnny.” He beams down at you proudly. Stepping back to scan your features. Gaze dragging lower to your chest fast enough to nearly miss, not that you do.

Dinner goes smoothly enough. Your mother spending most of the time chatting about her week, how much her patients love her and complain whenever she’s off from work, how tired she is after 14 hour long shifts.

“Why won’t you let me treat you to a spa day?” Johnny pouts, gripping her shoulder with a digging palm to loosen the tension.

“You spoil me soo much, how can I possibly ever gift you anything that could compare?” She tuts, batting her eyelashes at him. Making your nose begin to scrunch in disgust, only fully crinkling after Johnny’s response.

“I think you and I both know what you can provide me is better than any gift honey.” He adds with a wink. Locking your lips to not let out a repulsed gagging sound. “Dinner was so delicious, why don’t you go find a movie? We will handle this mess.”

Johnny nods in your direction, pointing over the plates scattered with leftovers needing to be washed.

Did he really just offer for you to clean up this mess? On your Birthday??—

“Ah, you’re too good to me.” Your mom sets him with a giant wet smooch. Smirking at you over her shoulder as she heads to the living room upon Johnny’s instruction to take a ‘load off’ for her exhausting hard work. Sickening.

Before Johnny moves you scurry to stack the plates in front of you, coming to a halt as his large palms wrap over your wrist. Squeezing a sound of disapproval out and shaking his head.

“I’ll take care of them sweetie. Follow me over to the sink for a bit, yeah?”

It’s nerve wracking standing at his side, shadowed by his mass body in comparison to yours. Johnny removes the suit jacket, uncuffing the sleeves of his top to roll them up to his elbows. He takes time washing each plate, the veins up and down his arm flexing against his contracting forearm muscles. Passing you the clean plates to dry off and place in the cabinet above your head.

“I have something for you.” Johnny’s cheeks tint a light pink. He pats his arms dry, cleaning between the two rings on his index and middle finger. “It’s your Birthday, would just be rude of me to show up without a gift.”

“O-oh Mr. Suh, I really wasn’t expecting anyth—“

Johnny’s index finger presses to his lips releasing a light ‘shh’. He reaches inside of his pocket pulling out a long rectangular black velvet box. “I hope you’ll like it.”

The box opens up, unclasping softly displaying a thin brilliant diamond tennis necklace. “You don’t seem to be wearing any jewelry, that’s a shame. A beautiful girl like you deserves the best.”

The action leaves you speechless with your jaw on the floor. This had to have cost him a fortune, already shaking your head trying to function enough to tell him to return it.

Johnny moves around behind you while you try to process your thoughts and remember how to speak correctly.

“Can I?” He mumbles quietly. Nodding a yes to whatever he’s asking. He bundles your hair to one side, draping the thin diamond chain around your throat, eliciting a chill down your spine when the silver meets your skin. “I knew this would look gorgeous on you.”

You think it’s an elated sigh passing between his lips. Irises twinkling as he takes in the way the necklace reflects against your skin. Once again lowering his gaze, this time much more obvious.

“Happy Birthday pretty.”

That’s only how it begins.

Johnny becomes another member of your household after that day. He sleeps over some nights now, making little to no effort to hide his grunts between your mother’s high pitched pig like squeals while he fucks her into the matress night after night, even some mornings. Shamelessly standing around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of low fitted boxer briefs hours later sipping coffee. Fixing you with a large toothy smile and lingering eyes as you munch on breakfast.

It gets worse for you from there. The amount of times you find him shirtless in the living room drenched in sweat working out to kick boxing videos becomes predictable. Each day begins to melt into the next. Nearly passing out when you find him in the garage covered in greasy oil tuning up your mother’s car. He’s everywhere, filling your perverse thoughts with new ideas. Scenarios where you somehow fall, accidentally, landing face first between his glistening pecs.

When your wrist cramps in study hall one day you near breakdown. A diligent student through and through losing sleep to secret desires over your neighbor. Your mom’s boyfriend, jackhammering your clit off every night to the faded memory of his grunts of exertion. The dip in his waist as his hips swiveled with each punch. The trickle of sweat languidly rolling down the center of his broad back, landing in smoke at the top of his nut hugging spandex workout attire.

He’d be the death of you.

“Who taught you to cut fruit like that?” Johnny laughs, head shaking as he approaches closer. The large knife in your hold trembles. Fingers sticky with juices spilling from the apple you’ve sliced in half.

“You’ll hurt yourself that way.” His tongue clicks in disapproval. Moving to stand behind you, engulfing your smaller stature with his arms draped over yours. He takes control of the knife by placing his palm on top of yours. Fingers wrapped tightly, lowering his chin to your shoulder to whisper closely near your ear.

“You gotta do it like this. Hold the apple in place on the cutting board sweetie.” Johnny drawls, maintaining your attention on his side profile instead of anything he’s trying to show you. “Dice them up into 8 halves.”

Blinking upward, his eyes fall half-lidded catching your focused gaze. Bottom half digging forward into your lower back, prodding down the middle.

“Ah!” You hiss, ripping your hand from the apple. The tip of the knife knicks you, too caught up in the waft of your mother’s boyfriends cologne to care about your well-being.

“Ah, you poor thing,” Johnny takes a step back to spin you around to face him. Lifting your hand up with a light grip on your forearm. “Does it hurt badly?”

The words echo through your mind, recited slowly. Unlocking the memory as his smile grows at the end of his question. Head tilting to the side with a knowing look before pressing closer to you, making you gasp for air. He smirks, grabbing a paper towel from the rack behind you. Digging into your hip hard below his waist, taking his time to fold the paper towel before pressing it to the small cut on your finger.

“What am I going to do with you?” Johnny’s tongue drags along his upper teeth, poking from the corner of his mouth. “A clumsy little thing like you really needs someone to take care of them. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

The only way to describe your response is completely dumbfounded. Gaping like a fish out of water to come up with a fast answer. You swallow, nodding, ducking your chin to hide the rise of embarrassment evidently displayed on your face.

Johnny coo’s, stretching fingers to stroke up your jaw. Tugging at your empty earlobe. “With the way things are going, I’ll have to do my best to watch after you. Daddy will have to make sure his little girl can handle the pain.”

That ended up being the most sleepless night of scavenging various websites for the perfect daddy dom videos. Waking up with nothing but guilt filled post-orgasmic clarity and cramped fingers.

It’s impossible to say Johnny was messing with you on purpose. Your own fantasy muddled mind could be playing tricks on you. Making innocent harmless actions a bigger deal than they should be.

That is until Jeno’s 19th Birthday.

“We have an announcement.” Johnny clears his throat. Patting his lips clean with the much too expensive reusable napkin the waiter had laid out on your laps once seated.

Jeno grumbles at your side, more than annoyed to be spending the evening at some 5 star Michelin steak house restaurant with his dad and his latest arm candy(your mother). $100 meal on his plate or not, his plans to get fucked up all night with his friends and the self-proclaimed sorority of ‘Jeno groupies’ had been abolished once his father told him to get dressed.

“An announcement?” You sit up sharply, mumbling quietly. Fidgeting beneath the table cloth as your eyes jump back and forth between Johnny’s hand linked with your mother’s. Not that..anything but that..

“You see kids,” Johnny begins, golden irises coated with spackles of orange glitter from the candlelight placed at the middle of the table. “We’ve been together for 11 months now. Everything has been going great, I’ve never been happier really.”

Your mother fans herself, blinking away the moisture gathering at the backs of her eyes. Johnny smiles with a reassuring squeeze on her fingers. “Because of this, we have decided it’s best to take the next step and live together.”

Jeno’s fork and knife clatter first followed by the sound of a shocked ‘WHAT?’ passing from your lips.

“Dad, are you fucking kidding me??”

“Language!” Johnny snaps quickly, fixing Jeno with a crazed gaze before smoothly returning to his happy-go-lucky calm state. “This weekend, you and your mother will be moving into my house.”

He nods in your direction. Jeno cursing under his breath a ‘fuck this’. Johnny continues to explain how much he wants to take care of the both of you. How tired your mom always is after work, stressed over the mortgage, your college tuition.

He wants to help, he wants you all to be a happy family. At least that’s what he says.

It could be worse, you ponder as you begin to unpack your things in your new bedroom. Twice the size of the one your grew up in with triple the closet space and your own bathroom.

Yes, it could be worse. He could have proposed. But he didn’t, and there was still hope that he wouldn’t..

Sure, Jeno’s bedroom just happens to be right across the hall from yours. Sure he already greeted you this morning with something that sounded like ‘hey ugly’.

Maybe he’s made your life a complete living hell since his Birthday.

What’s a bruised elbow after getting shoved into lockers on your way out of class anyway? It will heal fine.

If only Johnny hadn’t insisted for Jeno to drive you to school as well.

“Jeno, you can’t let pretty girls like this take public transport. Where are the manners I raised you to have, son?”

While that had your stomach doing back-flips, Jeno sang a much different tune.

“You know I’m not pulling into that parking lot with you in my car right?” He says without looking at you. Rapidly drumming his fingers along the steering wheel.

“But, your dad sai…”

“Fuck what that old man said.” Jeno scoffs. Jerking into an abrupt park. “He’s out of his mind. Get the hell out of my car.”

That’s how you end up with a sweaty nape during the last two weeks of September classes. Jeno would drive you far enough from his house for no neighbors to notice. Far too many who made an effort to hold conversations with his dad and rat him out somehow.

No, he’d drop you off 5 miles out; having to chase after the only bus that stopped nearby after. Panting and out of breath jammed between bodies of people rushing to work, the high school students half-asleep still, or the randoms on casual early outings. No one from your school would be caught dead on public transport, you didn’t have much of a choice though.

“I can’t take her home after school dad, I have football practice.” Jeno mutters. Poking the vegetables on his plate side to side.

“That is true..” Johnny sighs, rubbing his chin. “I suppose I can schedule my lunch later in the day? Your school’s not too far, should be enough time to get you back home safely.”

Johnny’s too nice, way too nice.

That’s all you can think sat in his car with your thighs tightly clamped together. Gripping on the door handle to stop yourself from oogling the flex in his forearms maneuvering the steering wheel as he drives you back home.

“You’re a smart girl. Your mom’s always talked about what a good student you are.” Johnny breaks the silence first with his gaze focused on the road ahead. “I wish Jeno cared about his academics more. Partying with his friends seems to be all that he wants to do anymore.”

“I needed a scholarship.” You whisper, playing with a loose thread on your uniform skirt. One you had to purchase from a former student at a discounted price. “Mom can’t cover the full tuition on her own. I’ll lose it if my grades slip.”

“That must put a lot of stress on your shoulders..” Johnny nods. Pulling into the driveway. He sets the gear into park turning to face you. “Don’t worry about that anymore. I’m taking care of you now.”

“Wha—“

“You and your mom.” Johnny smiles calmly. Reaching over and laying his palm on your upper knee. Thumb rubbing caressing soft circles. “You’re so young, you should be able to have fun too.”

“But, Mr. Suh I—“

“Johnny.” He interrupts, squeezing your thigh just above your knee. “I can tell you’re a really a good girl..”

He pauses, taking time to look you over. Fingertips grazing upward just beneath the hem of your skirt. Gripping the tender flesh at your inner thigh. “..you need to destress. Have fun like other teens your age do. School comes first, but let me handle the grown up things. You just keep your grades up in return, deal?”

He stays true to his word. Johnny makes no qualms about paying for any of your expenses. Even offering to open up a credit card for you to use— in case of emergency of course, and by emergency he implies ‘anything your heart desires’.

You know he means it when he asks you to go to the mall one day after school. Needing to acquire a gift for the anniversary with your mother coming up soon, he thinks you can help him find something she’d really love. You are her daughter after all..

“Which one do you think your mom would like best?” He’s looking through a case of earrings, thank fucking hell. Hesitating slightly enough to cause an uproar of panic in your chest when you pass by the rings. “..does she like pink?”

“Pink?” You’re ripped from your rushing thoughts, nibbling at your thumb nail while lost in your admiration. Johnny looked quite striking today despite his laid back appearance. He’s simple for once, in a hoodie and baggy jeans, raising his arms up in a long stretch that gives you peaks of the planes of his abdomen, the brand name on his boxer briefs. “Yeah yeah..pink..sounds good.”

“Shopping for an anniversary gift it seems?” The jeweler behind the counter eavesdrops, smug as he taps on the glass. “How many years are you two celebrating?”

Johnny stands up straight, speaking up before you can muster up something to say. Slinging an arm around your waist, he pulls you close to his chest. “Two years, can you believe it?”

“What an attractive couple!” The salesman covers his mouth with an obnoxious gasp. “Do I hear wedding bells?”

Johnny squeezes you deeper into his side, looking down at you with a wide smile. “If I’m lucky.”

Another loud gasp. “Look at that necklace! Oh I have the perfect pair of earrings to go with that lovely piece.”

“Oh no no it’s oka—“ you start, also gasping as Johnny plants a kiss to the top of your head, just barely missing your forehead. Too confused by the conversation at hand and your overwhelmed emotions shouting because Johnny’s holding you.

“Anything for my princess. Let’s see them!”

Johnny insists you try on the pair of $7000 diamonds. Tugging softly on your earlobe, mumbling something about how bare they are. “Try them on, let me just see how they look sweetie.”

“I..” his lower lip pops out in pout. Widening his eyes and blinking cutely. “Okay..”

Biting down a whimper from his random adorable response, you move to the mirror. Sighing with shaky hands to push the needle in your ear. Fearing you’ll drop one of the precious gems like an idiot. Positive you’ve never held— let alone touched anything this expensive.

“I really like how those look on you.” Johnny sucks on his upper lip, biting the meat between his teeth. Flitting over the soft column of your neck with intrigue. “He was right. They go perfectly with the necklace.”

“They’re..they cost more than my tuition..” you say, met with a confident smirk over your shoulder. Catching Johnny’s gaze in the mirror placed before you.

“What have I told you about the price of things?” His palm rests on your upper back, slowly inching down ending right above the curve of your ass.

With a hushed sound of surprise you lightly nod. “The price of things don't matter.. I’m more important than the price of anything?”

“Exactly sweetie.” Fingers creep just a bit lower, digging into the perky mound just beneath. “Daddy loves to see you happy. No matter what the cost.”

He sends you out of the store to pick up some of your mother’s favorite candies. Never allowing you to read the receipts or hear the price total. Johnny has a good job you suppose, he works from home, and seems to have a flexible schedule. He’s smart, cunning, quick on his feet. Well studied to know how the human brain functions. The more you come to learn about him, the harder it becomes to deny your deepest desires.

Finishing your assignments faster means more time to dedicate to your favorite website. Tumblr has become your hidden sanctuary to escape and deep dive into your fantasies. Ranting everyday about your mother’s boyfriend, your older neighbor, Mr. S who makes your heart throb from every pulse.

Venturing into x rated sites helped, it was only a matter of time before daddy dom and teenage virgin searches turned into sexy step dad using his step daughter. Even if the thought of Johnny marrying your mother brought you to tears, the idea of a step-father had you curious enough to find yourself watching nonetheless.

‘Today Mr. S bought me earrings. He touched me and complimented my beauty again. Sometimes I really wish he’d do more. Sneak into my room at night and fuck me awake. Make me scream into my pillow while reminding me that I’m not just any pretty girl, but I’m his pretty girl..

Oh and I really want him to fuck me full of cum until it’s shooting out of my nose.’

You type the last bit at rapid speed when your mom’s voice shouts for you to come eat dinner. Biting down on your lip and adding the tag- ‘Mister S’ little slut’.

She calls again, screaming louder until her throat cracks. Running from your bedroom at another shout of your name, you shove your laptop down, missing the sound of it clicking shut. Jogging to the bathroom to splash water on your heated skin before earning curious questions over dinner.

“I’ll get her honey.” Johnny smiles sweetly, waving for her to take a seat before running up the stairs. He knocks on your door, nose poking in with a glance around. Pushing the door left slightly ajar open the rest of the way, he steps in, peeping a look into the bathroom. “Hmm.”

Shrugging he turns to leave, foot paused as he catches your lit up screen. Laptop halfway shut and unfortunately at full brightness. The moving image of nude bodies throttling together sparks his interest the most. Reaching over to quietly close your door before opening up the device.

The pornographic images have him shocked at first, but reading the texts posts between has Johnny’s jaw on the floor in seconds.

‘Mr. S?’ He repeats the nickname in his head, pulling out his phone to get a photo of the URL. Placing your laptop back in place, completely shut this time before making a silent exit. Everything left untouched to never indicate anyone else’s presence.

—————————————————-

Dinner goes as usual, your mother oversharing stories from her day at work. Whining about how much her feet hurt. Johnny letting her know he’d rub them before bed once he wraps up a few things in his office. Jeno sits at your side with headphones on, tapping his phone screen as he plays some mobile game between bites. Mumbling curses here and there to himself.

“Any dessert my love?” Your mother asks Johnny, failing to acknowledge your existence.

“Oh honey I wish!” He pats his stomach dramatically. “Think I will burst if I eat more. Maybe a cup of tea to get me through these next two hours?”

“Of course, anything for you.” She winks, crumbles of dry mascara fall to her cheekbones. Picking up only hers and Johnny’s dirty plates to clean.

“Come to my office after you wash up.” Johnny turns to you out of nowhere, having not once looked at you throughout dinner. His lips fall into a flat line, fixing a quick glance toward Jeno. Mobile gaming sounds blare past his headphones. Johnny clears his throat returning to look at you, speaking to you in a serious tone. “We have to talk. Don’t mention it to your mother.”

He moves to the kitchen shortly after. Leaving you sat there lost with your mouth hung open. Jeno flicks your chin pulling out a headphone.

“Isn’t it enough you gawk at me all day at school?” He sneers. “Now you get to drool over me in the privacy of my own house.”

“I don’t like you like that.” You glare in return, reaching to grab his mostly empty plate. Jeno had instilled fear in you for years by now, you cleaned up after him without question.

He stops your movement, grabbing onto your upper arm, licking across his bottom lip. “But you do like me.”

It’s not a question. He’s expectant, waiting for a response. Receiving nothing but an eye roll before you head into the kitchen. Johnny already retreated to his home office as your mom rests on the couch with her feet up catching up on some new drama she’s hooked to.

Timidly you walk down the hallway to Johnny’s office. It’s built for him to work peacefully. Two large wooden doors always shut when you walk by in the afternoon. No voices or sounds emitting past the walls despite the hours he spends on video with patients crying over their parents never showing them proper love.

Raising your fist to knock multiple times, you pace back and forth for a few minutes wondering what he could want. His behavior over dinner had been..different. He didn’t even ask you about the assignments you completed today like he normally did.

Taking a deep breath you reassure yourself it’s probably nothing. You hope it’s nothing. Knocking as softly as you can.

“Yes, come in.” Johnny calls out, just barely reaching your ears. Hand already on the doorknob prepared to barge in and find out what you’ve done to upset him whether he answered or not. He nods as you enter, waving in the direction to the door behind you. “Lock it please.”

Fidgeting you make to turn the door handle quickly. Directed to sit in one of the leather seats in front of Johnny’s work desk. He’s wearing his glasses, appearing older than his years whenever he does. Reminding you that he is not actually some college senior you’re lusting after— but a much older man who could very well be your father.

“Have I done something wrong?” You question meekly. Shoulders slumped mentally preparing yourself for trouble.

Johnny’s gaze is cold when he meets yours. Even behind the lenses, his eyes carry none of his usual softness.

“Can you explain this to me?” Johnny leans over, turning the large computer screen on his desk to face you. Met with a brightened display of your tumblr blog. Moving photos of lewd sex acts jump off the screen at you bulging your eyes out of the sockets. Scooting out from the leather chair with a jump you almost land on your ass. Hanging off the seats ledge in fear.

“Oh my God! Wha—I….” You start to blabber in panic. Body overcome with a whirl of tremors rocking up and down your limbs. “Ho-how! I..I-I..I can explain!”

Johnny’s lips purse together in thought, shoulders lifting and falling with a lame shrug. Sitting back further in his seat he nods motioning for you to continue.

“Explain.”

“I—I…I—“ it’s a lie of course. You can’t explain it at all. The thought of Johnny discovering your darkest secrets never once crossed your mind. Academically smart makes no difference when your brain is useless for anything else. The tears spew out past your control, falling down to your knees shouting out pleads. Mixed somewhere between groveling whimpers and snot filled sniffles.

This was it, this was the end.

Johnny’s smiling to himself, letting out a long loud drawn out sigh ensuring you still hear it over your incessant humiliated tears. He stands up, circling around his desk. Leg crossing on top of the other, arms crossed on his chest letting you wail like you did the first time he found you. Ankle trapped in your bike chain, tear stricken with fear that you’d twisted it. He never forgot, pretending to never notice the way you’d circle by on your bikes that changed over the years.

Innocently naive, sweet, ready to be trained.

He lets your tormented sounds wash over him. Rolling his eyes shut, enjoying it more than he should. Knew you’d be a cryer, sensed your submission from early on. A smart girl ready to absorb and learn. Exactly what he needs.

“There there now.” Johnny coo’s, lifting you to face him with palms cupped under your chin. Staring up with blurred giant watery eyes. Feeling himself twitch against his inner thigh at the devastating vision of you distraught in tears. “I understand sweetie.”

“Y-you d-do?”

“Of course.” His tongue clicks, biting at his lower lip to contain a smile. “You’re just so pure..”

Bending down, Johnny grabs you around the waist to set you on weak ankles. Keeping you held up in place with an arm belted around your waist. He reaches for a tissue from behind on his desk. Pouting cutely as he begins to wipe your cheeks.

“Inexperienced perhaps?” He lets his question drag, waiting for your admission. With droopy eyes you focus on the slight rise and fall of his chest, feebly nodding. “Have you ever?”

All you can do is shake your head ‘no’. Too embarrassed to speak, tongue swollen from your cries. Johnny’s pleased you’re too shy to even look at him right now, unable to hold back his grin this time. He knew it, virgin written all over you.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a good thing.” He says calmly.

“I-it is?” You glance up, receiving a warm smile. Johnny takes the time to sit you back down. He squats before you gathering your hands together in his.

“Of course, a good thing for a good girl like you..” he trails off, releasing a sound of dismay. “..but this online public journal of yours, it’s concerning. I have to tell your mother about this.”

“No! Johnny please!” Shooting up ramrod straight you clasp around his fingers. Vocals coming out as soft and sugary sweet as you can muster. “You can’t tell her! I’ll do anything!”

Johnny has to blink repeatedly to contain his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. It was almost too easy, you played right into his hands better than he could have ever planned for.

“I have an idea sweetie.” He sighs, lifting your fingers to look over your bitten down nails. “I’ve observed you for months now(years). You’re stressed, you don’t enjoy the things other teens your age do. All you do is lock yourself up in your room and study, suppressing your hormones. I’ve helped similar cases before in different ways..”

Johnny moves to stand up, he cups your cheeks sweeping away the droplets of new tears that still slip out. Gently smiling as he goes on. “I seem to be the root of your problems here. I want to help.”

“Do-do…do y-you think I need therapy?” You wonder, doing your best to control your throat from cracking. He sucks in air, head tilting to the side in thought.

“..Something like that angel. I think some one on one time could really help you.” He steps back releasing your face. Burning in the aftermath of his touch, Johnny taps the computer screen to remind you of your current dilemma. “You want to do these things you post about, am I correct?”

“Y-yes..but..” you start, chewing at the insides of your cheeks nervously. “..but I try to with..boys my age..”

“You want to try these things with me?”

It’s impossible to not choke on your saliva. The room spinning around you as if you’ve been dragged into a dream, or a nightmare. Swiftly nodding your head up and down, signifying ‘YES!’

Johnny leans over, grabbing the computer’s mouse to scroll the first page of your tumblr account. He stops on a gif of a woman’s face covered in spit. Mouth agape nodding with large eyes as a cock smacks her across the cheek. Forcing its way inside until it bulges through her throat.

“We can do that.” Johnny shocks you, flitting his lazed gaze back to yours. Reaching for his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper tickles your eardrums before you register the man in front of you getting down to his boxer briefs. “You think you’re ready?”

It feels out of body, chin moving up and down nodding much like the woman in the gif had. Eagerly, anticipating to finally see, smell, feel everything you’ve ever dreamt of.

“Open up wide for me.” He instructs stepping forward. “I’m a bit large, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Have to prep your throat to take me.”

Johnny examines your tongue when you pop open your lips forming a perfect ‘O’. His index finger presses down on the center eliciting a strained moan from the back of your throat. He hums, rubbing back until you’re choking for air, trying to flick your tonsils. “Have you ever done anything before? Nod for yes.”

With your nod Johnny grabs onto his length, crushing the tip of his wet cock against the fabric of his briefs. It stains with precum, pushing a load of wetness obscenely out of your entrance. Underwear drenched without any indication he’ll even touch you there. Johnny presses his middle finger alongside the other. Squirming your thighs together like matches starting a fire. “Not too innocent then, are you?”

You’re more excited than you should be, wrapping your lips around his fingers in attempt to suck around them. Coughing and gagging when the tips of his nails graze the back of your throat. He tsks, head shaking with disapproval.

“Slow princess, practice makes perfect.” He slides free from your mouth. Drawing spit down your chin along the way.

Your eyes dart to the stain on his briefs. “I w-want more..”

“Ready to take daddy’s cock?” Johnny says it so nonchalantly. This time the nickname ignites a coiling rush through your gut. Surging forward to grab onto his thighs, your tongue falls out past your lips. Licking the wet patch on his boxers.

“Take it out baby.” Upon his order you reach inside timidly. Trembling fingers snake around his length, unable to fully wrap around him. The fear sets in, maybe you aren’t ready. Johnny can tell, massaging fingers through your scalp reassuringly. “Too big? Just try angel. You can do it.”

It’s enough to get your jaw aching at first, swallowing him down more than halfway. Pushing yourself more than you have before to impress him. You’ve had some practice and studied enough porn by now to know taking his full length will make him feel good.

In spite of gagging nastily around him, you hallow your cheeks lowering further down. Johnny’s responsive, gripping your hair, holding your head still. His hips buck forward groaning once his cock can’t sink any deeper inside.

“Fuck, you see how you’re such a good girl? Taking me like nothing princess.” Johnny does his best to praise you, but he’s less willing to hold back now. Even as your hands push on his upper thigh, he bucks forward letting out raspy groans. “Come on, relax for me. You’re doing so, so damn good. I’m not gonna last long.”

Spits flows out as you cough, guzzling around his length, having to make an effort to breathe through your nose.

He’s true to his word, repeating between hisses for you to ‘take it’. Retching around him as he speeds up. Eyelashes fluttering as his eyes roll up into his skull. “Fuck yeah. That’s how daddy likes it.”

Johnny stills, making your neck bend back from his heavy weight pushing down. Painting your throat with hot strips of cum. It feels like enough to drip out of every one of your orifices, that is what you wished for..

“Come here..” he helps you stand up, cleaning your face off with fresh tissues. Kissing your bruised lips airy light. “That was incredible.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, wanting to whimper and plead for him to touch you. Picking up on your silent request, he notes the time pessimistically. “It’s getting late.”

Frowning, he leads you to the door, pausing with a more serious expression.

“Oh, and..” Johnny cups you around the waist. Large fingers almost meet as he enjoys the feeling of your smaller frame delicately encased in his hold. Having to shut his eyes to ward off the rageful thoughts to throw you down on his desk and take what belongs to him. “I believe it goes without saying, but do not tell your mother about this. In fact, I need you to remove that blog, you cannot discuss what we do with anyone.”

“I won’t say anything..” you quietly mumble. Throat aching and requesting water. Johnny smiles, leaning his neck lower to kiss the arch of your brow.

“Good girl. You did great, get some rest.”

—————————————————-

You should feel guilty the next day. You should feel something besides a sore throat and swollen lips, but not even Jeno’s snarky commentary can ruin your elation today.

“Since when do you wear earrings?” He pulls at the jewelry gleaming on your earlobe. Squinting and scoffing. “Those are a little too nice for you, daddy buy you those?”

“You can drop me off right here.” You are already unlocking the passenger door. Annoying Jeno further as he has to press down on the brakes immediately. Freeing yourself from the confines of his car before he can pester you any longer. It’s not as if you don’t have to deal with him at school already.

“Hey!” Jeno shouts out of the window, running toward the opposite direction where you know he won’t be able to follow you. Even if it meant risking your perfect attendance by being tardy. You would not allow him to ruin your day, not yet.

Despite doing the most to avoid him, Jeno waits for you to show up. Sat on the hood of his car scrolling idly through his phone. He even texted you asking how much longer you’d be, noting that there’s no way you would make it on time.

“Hey, what’s the deal?” Jeno jogs to meet you entering the school grounds. Shoving into your side with his crossbody bag. “Try to make me crash this morning? You think that shit’s funny?”

“Leave me alone!” You shout, a few heads turning to face the two of you entering the hallway to get to your first lecture of the day with one minute left to spare.

Jeno, of course, does not leave you alone. He doesn’t even share this class with you. That doesn’t stop him from sitting right next to you. He’s glaring now, catching a glimpse of the necklace hidden beneath the collar of your uniform. A small bit of skin exposed when you begin to pull out your notes and textbook.

“He got you that too didn’t he?” Jeno grits.

“God, what’s it to you? Can’t stand that your dad is actually a nice person unlike you??” You whisper. Keeping your focus ahead as your teacher rolls on with today’s lesson. College professors could care less about attendance, you’d be caught easily enough if you’re strolling into class late everyday.

“You think he’s a good person?” Jeno smirks, nodding. “He’s a great actor, I’ll give him that. Puts all those years spent studying the human brain to good use. My dad knows how to manipulate better than anyone.”

“He’s not manipulative Jeno. He’s a nice guy.”

He huffs out of his nose at that, leaning back comfortably into his seat. “Why? Because he took you and your mother in? Picking up strays off the street to adore him after some pointless acts of generosity. Don’t you find that suspicious at all? Why would he choose your mom out of everyone?”

“I don’t know!” You hiss, striking him down with a fierce glare. “I need to pay attention, leave!”

Jeno hates being ignored. He hates whenever anyone else can garner more attention than him. He’d never admit it but he’s always felt the need to compete with his father.

If his father worked out everyday, so would Jeno. If his father could fuck through every woman in town, so could Jeno.

Learning his father has been impressing you with his typical tactics sets off a ticking time bomb. Jeno stands up, shoving your belongings off your desk on his way to the exit.

He’s upset, sure, when isn’t he. It’s not as if you care about what Jeno thinks at all. Why should you when he’s been dead set to pick on you since the day you first met.

Johnny Suh’s the portrait of an examplimentary dad.

At least that is the image he works hard to uphold. If you were to ask his only child, Jeno, he would have much to dispute otherwise.

Jeno enjoys the life Johnny provides him through endless hours of work. His father having graduated valedictorian from university prior to landing a high paying job evaluating the psyche of stuck-up rich teenagers. Johnny had become more than professional at manipulating sniveling brats who spent their days missing school to burn through their parents black American express cards.

All the while neglecting his own son who had utilized his free time to take his frustrations and grief out on anyone who so much as accidentally looked at him the wrong way. Jeno’s main entertainment had also become a game of manipulation. His striking good looks paired with and unrelenting rage to curb his hunger with others' misery made for a deathly combination.

It just so happened that you often painted the picture of a perfect victim. Conveniently missing the way Jeno’s foot extended out, tripping over it leaving a scuff behind on his newly imported leather Gucci boots. Jeno wasted no time to berate you as you scrambled to gather your spilled belongings. Kicking your textbooks aside as he yelled the question- “and how exactly to you plan to pay me back for fucking up my shoes?!”

Your unassertive meek demeanor only stirred his contempt. Jeno squats down to taunt you at an even closer distance. Minty breath passes between his perfectly aligned white teeth. Everything about Jeno screamed money. Having never once suffered the embarrassment of not being able to afford school lunch for the week, unlike you.

“I asked you a fucking question.” Jeno would scoff. Reaching up to flick the shell of your ear, already burning with embarrassment as on-lookers stood around. Most laughing and joining in on Jeno’s antics. Some silently cringing, never to speak up against anything the most popular guy in school who managed to toy with the student body like a bunch of puppets on strings. It wasn’t kill or be killed. It was stay silent, move like you’re invisible, or suffer the consequences.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled under your breath. Jeno sneered at that. Snatching your binder full of homework for the week. Your weekends were never spent out partying with other reckless freshly turned adults. A fat chance you’d ever be invited to one of Jeno’s summer ragers.

“Look at this.” Jeno smirks, licking his index finger, swiping through the pages neatly organized in your binder. “Already caught up on all of your assignments.”

His head lifts, strong chin catching the light hardening his features even more. Glaring down at you beneath hooded eyes where you shrivel up weakly on your knees. “That’s great, you’ll need the extra time to make sure you can complete all of mine.”

It’s unfortunate how clear that memory is now as you work on Jeno’s Biology assignment. Papers slewed across the large dining room table. Leaving you wondering why they even needed a table this large with only the two living in such an oversized house for so long now.

The led in your pencil snaps under pressure, swallowing down a deep breath when Johnny’s palms splay out flat around your body. The deep rumble in his chest vibrates along your back. A “humm” sounding above your head where he leans over pretending to read over everything you’re writing.

“Such a smart girl.” Johnny presses in closer. His upper lip brushes against your earlobe like a faded breath of air. He’s close, too close, suffocating you. Enough for the mechanical pencil in your hold to shake between your trembling fingers. “You’re always working so hard, aren’t you?”

All you can manage is to lick your suddenly dry lips and swallow vocally. Johnny’s nose drags up past the shell of your ear. Elevating his weight off your smaller frame enough for you to suck down a deep breath. Collecting your hair, Johnny smooths it behind your ear. Stroking against the area Jeno had flicked once before, making the shiver intensify as it rolls down your spine.

“You’re still so nervous, so shy around me.” Johnny coos. The tip of his nose runs down from where your hair parts to the column of your throat. Plump lips etch your skin with his words. “After showing me what a depraved little whore you only dream of being for me? You have the audacity to still act so sweet and innocent?”

A smile grows on Johnny’s lips when you let out a whiny gasp. His index finger and thumb lightly pinching your earlobe. Catching the dining room chandeliers reflection against the diamond earrings he’d bought you. “Do you see how I was right? They’re so pretty on you sweetie.”

You nod, barely. Body locking up tight under his scrutinizing eyes. Johnny seems unsatisfied with your silence. Nipping the shell of your ear hard, his mouth presses closer, hotly.

“You still have yet to show me why you deserved them.” Johnny rasps. His whispered tone more maniacal than the usual concerned speech he uses on you.

“I..” you start. Johnny aiming you with a discontent look through your peripheral. “Jeno..” you blink fast to the side, noting the time. “Jeno..he’ll be home soon.”

Johnny straightens up, relieving your spine of his heavier body. Even your lungs expand, able to breathe without panic any longer. He smooths back locks of light brown strands that had fallen around his face.

“Exactly.” Johnny’s expressionless. Unzipping his slacks with an intense gaze fixated on your mouth, still swollen after last night's late excursion.

He grabs your chin with a rough pinch, jerking you to concentrate on his movements releasing the button keeping him contained. Vocals gruff as he steps closer until you’re face to face with his groin.

“Daddy taught you how to be quick for a reason.”

“Yes daddy.” Wasting no more precious time you shove down his briefs. Burying your nose right under the lining of his heavy sack with a deep inhale.

“My good girls nasty too, isn’t she?” He yanks your head up, eyeing over your heated appearance. Mouth hung open allowing him to prod and poke against your lips and tongue. “Just like that. This is how I always wanna see you now angel. Holes ready to be used up for me.”

He buries inside before you can say anything, not that you were going to. Stilling when your nose smashes against his pelvis. Flustered from the second you cough around him harshly, tears spill down your cheeks like hot steam.

All you can do is squirm in your seat, Johnny taking full control again with a mean grip on your hair. Your scalp hurts right away, pummeled into aggressively. Johnny groaning between your breathless whines.

Wet filthy sounds become garbled in a slew of spit and choked out gasps. Drool pools out, smacked across your cheek with Johnny’s wet swollen member. “You’re too good at this, just want more of daddy’s cum don’t you?”

Gulping, lips too thick to even shut your mouth, you nod up to him. Trying to sniffle more of your tears away. “Please, daddy, please.”

Johnny curses, fisting you by your hair back on his cock. Mumbling something your clogged up ears can hardly understand.

“Gonna swallow all of it like a good girl.”

He rocks with vigor, chasing the last bit of pleasure nearly reaching his high. Jaw aching after having only taken his girth less than half a day ago.

The door slams shut noisily signifying a new presence. Judging by the way it shuts aggressively followed by loud footsteps trudging their way to the kitchen you can tell it’s Jeno.

“God damnit.” Johnny mutters a string of curses under his breath. Yanking free from your mouth with tendrils of saliva stuck to the tip of his length. Dripping down your neck onto the shiny diamond necklace.

Tucking himself in, his chin jerks toward you. “Hurry, go to your room before he sees you.”

Scurrying to gather your belongings is the least of your concern when you see the huge spot of drool on Jeno’s assignment. Mentally hoping that dries up before you hand it over to him.

It goes on like that for the next few weeks. To the point that Johnny begins to ignore you, at least that's how you start to feel. Morning kisses, afternoon makeouts in various closets, late night sneaky pecks. They happen less and less, why the fuck can’t your mom just stay in place?!

If it’s not her, it’s Jeno showing up at the worst time!

Johnny finds you in the garage after you decide to burn off steam with a run on the treadmill. Once again familiar with an ache in your wrist, positive your balls would be blue if you had any.

He’s about to head out to run some errands for your mother, pausing when he spots you chugging down water. If he remembers correctly, Jeno should be in his room right now.

“Get in the car right now.” He says, pulling you by the wrist toward the backseat of his range rover.

“But I’m all sweaty!”

“Even better.” Unlocking the door, he pushes you in first, climbing in after you.

“Wait! Where are we going!!”

“Shh” Johnny flattens you on the backseat, lower half shoving down against yours. He laps the trickles of sweat on your chest and neck. Tongue picking up all of the sweat that keeps rolling out. The cars stuffy from hours of sitting in the garage with no filtration.

Johnny maneuvers around behind you, acting fast to free his cock. He lodges right between your thighs from behind. Face dropping to the crook of your neck biting soft enough to not leave a mark, that would only raise questions from your mom.

He starts panting, thrusting hard against your clothed ass. Large palm splayed on your soaked hip. “Need to fuck you so bad sweetie, going crazy.”

He sounds near tears, puffing breaths on your burning skin. Grabbing onto the side of the passenger seat with one arm, you whimper pushing back to meet his gaining thrusts.

It’s too good to be true, yet again. Already planning to sleep with your soiled bottoms under your pillow tonight while you get off to the memory of Johnny’s climax dripping down your thighs. It all comes to a halt when the garage opens up noisily. Clattering sounds following. The two of you stuck in a petrified position breathing shallowly.

It’s not your mom, at least. Evident by Jeno’s disrespectful curse words flying left and right. Going off about some stupid skateboard he’s trying to find.

“God, fuck this!” Johnny smacks the passenger seat in front of you. Cock hard, throbbing between your soaked spandex shorts. Jeno doesn’t even close the garage behind, stepping in and out to find various tools for his skateboard.

“Why is he always moving my shit!” You can hear him shouting to himself just outside of the vehicle. Wrenching his way through the cubbies of appliances and tools organized against one of the garage walls.

Johnny apologizes into your shoulder, plotting how each of you will get out at separate times just in case Jeno happens to walk in again.

He lets you escape first, gingerly opening the door to avoid making any sound. It seems helpless as you shower off your dried sweat. The situation you’ve ended up with leaves you with little opportunities to find yourselves alone. Maybe it’s your destiny to be a virgin forever, that’s what Jeno always said..

A new text message notification pops on your lockscreen upon shutting your bedroom door.

Johnny- ‘This isn’t going to work.’

You- ‘What do you mean?’

Johnny- ‘This weekend, tell your mother you’ll be sleeping over at a friend's house. Come up with a good reason.’

You- ‘A friend’s house? Why?’

Johnny- ‘Do as I say, okay sweetie? Daddy will handle the rest.’

He keeps it short, ordering you to delete this conversation from your phone. Sure, it knocks on your guilty conscience. You know it’s wrong, but how wrong can it really be when it feels this good..

“I have to make a business trip this weekend, honey.” Johnny mentions over dinner that night. Stilling the fork in your hand poking at your salad. This weekend when you’d be spending the night at a friend’s house ‘working on a project’..at least that’s what you told your mom earlier..

“This weekend my love?” She pouts. “I can’t come with you, I work Sunday through the night.”

“Ah, that’s okay darling.” Johnny smiles gently, patting her on the arm. “It’s a boring conference anyway. Just updated studies on bipolar depression and schizophrenia. I’ll be exhausted after hours of power points and people interrupting with their own experiences.”

“You work too hard babe.” She says, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. Johnny steals a quick glance your way while your mother’s distracted planting him with a peck.

“That I do.”

—————————————————-

The weekend can’t come soon enough. Johnny doesn’t give you much detail other than where to wait for him promptly at 11am sharp.

Even after you get inside the range rover Johnny spares you no more than a warm greeting. Cranking up the music playing as he enters the freeway. Still clueless to where he’s taking you.

He enters the city further out miles away from the streets you grew up on. Entering the downtown area where lines up fancy shops and restaurants grace the buildings. Johnny drives up to a skyscraper sized hotel, immediately bellhops and valets attend to you. Snatching your overnight bag and purse, they greet him boisterously.

“Mr. Suh! Long time no see!” He tosses his keys, jeering with them. Sneaking tips into the palms of their hands upon exchanging words.

“Things have changed a lot this year.” He mentions, sounding more sleazy than you’ve ever noticed.

“Your usual suite sir.” Another attendee approaches, passing a keycard. Johnny doesn’t even have to stand in line to formally check-in. How often must he stay at this hotel..

“Indeed. Please ensure my belongings are prioritized.” Waving off the staff, Johnny’s arm drapes around the back of your waist. Hand lifted to direct you inside this lavish hotel. Everyone lounging inside at the various seating areas dripped head to toe in designer. A warning would have been great, you think, pigeon toed to hide your shoes as Johnny leads you to the elevators.

“A hotel?” You pipe up, still under his control walking into the lift. He loosens up once you’re alone, pulling you into his chest with both arms circling your waist.

“Now I get you all to myself.” Johnny lets out a long sigh falling into a soft smile. “Surprise.”

“We’re staying here?”

“Yes sweetie, just the two of us.” Chewing on his upper lip he stays latched onto you. The suite, Johnny’s usual suite, is right ahead. One of the three on the floor you exit at. “Are you happy?”

Unlocking the door, you’re rendered speechless. The suite’s enormous, fully equipped with a kitchen, living room, and jacuzzi. It’s more of a bachelor pad than Johnny’s house could ever be.

“You come here a lot?” You ask taking everything in. Hugged from behind with his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“I used to. Haven’t had any reason for months now..”

Johnny’s not one to explain himself much, and you don’t ask too many questions. Just how he likes it.

The bedroom is immaculate, smells expensive even. Crisp linen freshly washed, not that it would matter by the end of your stay.

“One bed..” you can’t figure out how you didn’t realize it sooner. Johnny planned this to have you all to himself. No more interruptions from Jeno or your mother.

He pets the back of your head, noticing the way your breath quickens. Stroking up and down your side with tender squeezes on your waist. “For us, baby.”

It’s better than any of the day dreams you’ve distracted yourself with while bored in class. Johnny helps you lay down. He sucks in his upper lip with a smirk, tracing from the necklace down over your shirt to your navel. Dipping in, he moves onto the bed caging you between his legs. Knees dipping around your hips sinking the mattress deeper beneath you.

“You trust me. Don’t you, pretty?” It’s too much to process. Johnny’s massive figure above you, his palms splayed flat by your head encompassing you under his frame completely.

After every wish on a star, every candle blown out on your birthdays, every fallen eyelash blown away. Your wish was going to come true.

Johnny was going to take your virginity.

“Yes..”

“Yes what now, baby?” Cocking a brow, Johnny’s hips find yours. Still carrying his weight, just enough for you to feel where he’s grown thick and hard.

“Yes..daddy..”

“Yes daddy, please fuck me.” Johnny says it slowly meeting your lost gaze.

“D-daddy…please fuck me?” Maybe the saccharine tone you ask in sets him off. Johnny’s tearing your clothing off in seconds. He feels brainless looking over the curves and dips on your body, having to knead and grope at every crevice. Even growling deep in his throat.

“You’ve never done this before, right angel?” He knows the answer, but hearing it again is almost good enough to have him cumming in his pants.

“Never daddy..” you shyly admit again. Johnny seems satisfied with that.

He’s pushing your thighs open, upper lip sucked in instinctively. Amazed by how wet you are, enough to pool beneath your ass already. Too irresistible to bother wasting time to stretch you out first. Johnny pushes on the backs of your thighs until your lungs feel compressed, making it harder to breathe already. He moves down onto his stomach to get a look up close. Spreading your fleshy folds apart with two fingers. His cock sinks into the bed too excited, the tip of his tongue dipping in for just a sliver of taste.

“Fuck.. you’re sinful.” He whispers, shivering from your cunt down to your fingertips. “Gonna fuck you pretty baby.”

Johnny sits back up on his haunches, expertly working on removing his garments. He’s long, strong, muscles etched better than any Greek God. Eros could only wish to be so flawless.

He lines up to your waiting entrance, chest pushed out reminding you of all the days you spent sitting across the street from Johnny’s house watching him exercise. He tickles up to the backs of your knees, pushing you down into a folded position. Cockhead piercing past the tight furl, too tight just barely inside. Fearing he won’t even be able to last more than a few minutes.

“Fuck..” His dicks twitching, focused on your hole convulsing around just the tip. Barely able to fit even with how ridiculously wet you are. Johnny has to pace himself, for your sake and his. Letting one of your legs flop down to rub your clit, slowly entering inch by inch. Turned into a moaning mess beneath him, spewing out delicate little embarrassed moans.

“Sound so pretty for me don’t you?“ Johnny says, enjoying the show of your cunt struggling to take his size. The size difference between the two of you turning him on even more despite his best efforts to control himself. He let’s out a garbled rasp, meeting obstruction finally sinking the rest of the way in to the hilt. Cock completely blanketed in warmth and wetness.

“D-daddy, s’too big…too big..” you mewl. Pulsing around the cock splitting you open.

“Ah, you poor thing..” Johnny cups your face, sweeping the pads of his thumbs under the tired rims of your eyes. Pushing the tears that continue to river out off your cheeks. “Does it hurt badly?”

Johnny catches your bitten plump bottom lip before you can get a word out. Sucking down the surprised gasp you let out while you nod, it hurts. It all hurts but it feels good. It feels just as good as a sugary cold treat sliding down your throat while Johnny pets your head..

“D-daddy.. please..” he catches each breathy word, attacking your mouth with deepened kisses. Exhaling shakily between tender pecks he scatters across your upper lip to your Cupid’s bow.

“Daddy’s got you pretty.” He nods. Returning to your sensitive clit, rubbing profusely. Your eyes screw shut, overstimulated by each pointed thrust. Cunt swallowing up the length pistoning in and out of you. Slippery wet and splashing against Johnny’s skin each time your hips meet. Moans and lewd squelches fly around the hotel room at a deafening volume. Stuffing your ears with heat the closer your orgasm approaches.

“Daddy..c-cum, I’m cumming!” You whimper, eagerly rutting against Johnny for release. Stimulated more than you’ve ever been able to achieve on your own. It’s all too much, pressed under his weight, punching the oxygen from your lungs as his thrusts ram into you. Hips recklessly fucking against you at renewed speed.

“Best dick you’ll ever take, baby.” Johnny heaves, making you moan erratically at that. Pussy clenching around his length hard until he has to slow down burying to the base of his length with a grind. Fingers pinching your clit through the powerful orgasm surging through your body.

You’re sealed around him too tight, trembling under his figure hard enough to send vibrations down to his balls. Johnny has to gnaw on your shoulder, slobbering to control the incessant urge to bite down. Snapping around him like a boa constrictor, he thinks he could die like this. Buried 9 inches deep inside of you, lodged up to your cervix endlessly dripping cum until you burst at the seams. He tries to thrust just a few more times, hiding a growl with your shoulder to muffle how wanton he sounds. It’s long and intense, thrusting sharply one more time to fuck his cum deeper inside of you.

It’s hard enough to glide out, stuck on the way your walls chase after him. He’s still hard, too hard to stop. Managing to get you on your stomach, ignoring your petulant whimpers. Landing slaps across your ass, soothing the warmth left behind over and over again to let you recover.

He’s not ready to stop, even if you are. Slotting up your hips, Johnny gets a pillow under you to keep you angled perfectly for his cock. Shapely ass perked up, spread open showing off your wrecked hole smeared with a fresh load of cum. Saved for him to have, to fuck over and over again.

The thought shoots through him spine to balls. Shoving the tip of his cock side to side just to watch the way you swell around him. Teeth bury into his upper lip listening for your pretty cries, inch by inch entering back inside. Saving the memory of your cunt sucking him down.

Despite your body's initial resistance, Johnny works you up into a frenzy of hot lust. Fucking you through the night even after your limbs give out. The clutch you’ve maintained on the bedding releases, eyes fallen shut breathing shallowly.

“My pretty sleeping princess.” He lets out tiredly. Holding himself up right in a push-up position above your back. Slowly kissing the top of your spine, cock still rigid hard inside of you. With hands on your waist he positions you comfortably without slipping out. Stroking messed up strands of sweaty hair away from your face.

Thinking over how he might lose his mind fucking you until you have to check out tomorrow. He’d have to bring you back again once you’re used to going round after round.

It’s been awhile since he last spent time in his favorite suite. If he recalls correctly he had two guests the last time, making use of the jacuzzi hours into the night.

That had to stop once your mother had shown him a photo of her daughter over a dinner date one evening. Finally convincing her to invite him over on your Birthday of all days. It was almost too perfect.

—————————————————-

Eye contact with Johnny becomes dangerous after your weekend together. If your mother is at work, Jeno is home. If Jeno’s at practice or out with his friends, your mom’s all over Johnny.

But you need more, you both do.

“Hey Jeno, practice today?” Johnny asks his son. The other stood nearby pouring protein powder into his morning shake.

“Uh, yeah, just like every Wednesday dad.” Jeno rolls his eyes. Jerking his bag over his shoulder. “Hurry up, I’m leaving now.”

He says over his back directed to you. Quickly snatching your own bag, Johnny fits you with a knowing look. Throat clearing, saying a soft goodbye behind his mug of cooled down caffeine.

Wednesday meant your mother’s afternoon shift bleeding into the late night. Jeno at football practice at least until dinner time, and you dwindling away tutoring other students for extracurricular activity to land you in one of the best universities.

“Hey, I’m so sorry but I can��t do tutoring today.” Doyoung stands by your locker after your last class ends. Explaining some emergency that’s come up today and that he needs to head home.

“That’s fine, we can resche—“ you start, ripping your bag from your locker. “I gotta go!”

Realizing Johnny’s home alone lifts your feet off the ground. Charging out of the school in a rush with the speed of an olympic medal winner. The bus would have to do, shooting him a text that you’d be home soon. He never opens it, most likely occupied in session with a patient.

Burning thigh muscles and short of breath, you burst through the front door racing for Johnny’s office. Without knocking you let yourself in, panting and gasping for air. His eyes snap up surprised, murmuring something about ‘Let’s pick this back up tomorrow, shall we? Have a good evening.’

Falling flat against the open door, Johnny stands up still shocked to see you. “Why are you home so early?”

“Tut-tutoring..” you huff, cramping on your side. Lazily waving him to come closer. “Canceled!”

The light bulb vividly goes off in his head, immediately changing Johnny’s professional work time demeanor. Now he’s the one rushing, scooping you up with ease and throwing you over his shoulder.

“What a good girl, came straight home to daddy huh?” Landing a rough slap on your ass, Johnny jogs up with stairs with ease carrying your weight. Dizzied by how effortlessly he can toss you around. He kicks into your room throwing you down on the bed, noting the time blinking on your nightstand.

“We have a couple hours until Jeno will be home.”

Johnny’s got you stripped down to nothing but your uniform skirt in seconds. “Keep it on, kind of like how sweet my little school girl looks wearing this.”

He uses your skirt for leverage, bottoming out much faster than the last time. Impressed you must be making use of the dildo he left as a surprise gift for you to find a few days later.

“Still too tight.” He grunts, slamming in until his balls crush against your clit. The friction shooting tingles up to your chest. “Or maybe daddy’s just too big for you.”

Johnny’s speeding up, knows the risk of getting caught is only around the corner. Can’t have that happen, not again..

It’s too loud between the sound of your ass clapping back colliding against his hips. Begging him to fuck you harder after a week of failed attempts.

Too loud to catch the ominous sound of the front door opening, or the shoes running upstairs.

“Gonna keep my cum inside baby“ Johnny’s panting. Drilling faster at your command. Fucking at a renewed speed until you’re shouting, lower back pressed down hard enough to have your knees slipping. Laying flat under his relentless thrusts.

“Daddy! Yes! Please! I need it!!”

“Ugh fu-fuck!” Johnny freezes, fisting the waistband on your skirt too roughly. Loosening the elastic with a strong pull. Cumming, spurting out until your stomachs warm. Coated in the familiar feeling of semen painting your cervix.

It’s lucky your tutoring session didn’t work out today.

Until it isn’t.

—————————————————-

You’re almost done with dinner, discussing your day at school casually between Johnny’s questions. He always keeps conversations easy with both you and your mother. Never letting on to anything suspicious. It’s almost concerning how good he is at covering his tracks..

“Is no one going to bother asking me how my day was?” Jeno interrupts. Never one to join your meals without his headphones on and phone in hand. He smirks at his father smugly, phone unlocked in his hands under the table.

“Well, of course son..” Johnny seems surprised, sipping on his after dinner green tea. He motions for Jeno to share.

Jeno sighs, pressing the touchscreen on his phone. He leans back sporting a large goofy smile. “I learned a lot today, dad.”

“At school?” Johnny’s brow lifts in question. Curiously eyeing his son’s rather odd behavior. Your phone pings just then notifying you of a new text message from Jeno. Upon opening it all you see is a black screen with a play button. Why would Jeno be texting you about anything other than finishing his homework? Let alone sending you video clips..

Of course you press play, of course.

The black screen quickly shifts. Whoever was recording directs the lense up to display a bed, clapping sounds of flesh meeting flesh— ‘Yes! HARDER DADDY!’

Mortified by the realization you shove your phone between your thighs locking it shut. Gasping for air overcome with anxiety. There’s no way..

“Not necessarily at school, dad.” Jeno says flatly, shifting his gaze your direction out of the corner of his eyes. He smirks toward you, typing something up with his thumbs without looking down.

‘My room after dinner.’

“Did you say something?” Johnny asks you, eyebrows scrunching at your flushed appearance. Rapidly shaking your head, you squeak out a sound of dismay.

“I have to use the bathroom.” Your words feel jumbled, scampering away from the dinner table leaving behind your messy plate. Surely enough to hear an earful from your mom over later. Running up the stairs faster than you ever have, you collapse against the hallway wall in disbelief. Opening Jeno’s text message up with fear, there’s no way he knew..

The video continues to play. Johnny fucking you into your bed until you fall flat with a shout. Jeno ends it by turning the camera to himself, finger waving back and forth as he moves further away from the sounds of your high pleasured screams.

‘Naughty naughty.’

Jeno repeats the words when he reaches the top of the stairs, following after you as if he has studying to get to.

He tsks, tongue clicking in a menacing manner. Chin pointing toward his bedroom door. “Ladies first..”

Ducking your face, you step forward shamefully, Jeno almost knocking you over with his arm extended out blocking you from moving ahead. He presses close to your ear- “Not that you are a lady, evidently.”

He pivots in front of you, sauntering ahead into his bedroom. Voice over his shoulder to shut the door- since you clearly need the reminder.

“Jeno..”

“Shut up whore.” He laughs, taking a seat on his bed. Tongue clicking repeatedly with a look of disappointment. “Here I thought you were some unfuckable virgin.”

“I was!” You panic, covering your mouth. “I mean—“

Jeno sits up at that, angry. Fisting the bedding by his hips. “You were? Don’t tell me that my dad..”

He doesn’t have to finish asking. The look on your face says enough. Jeno’s more annoyed than he’s letting on. Lips disappearing to control his emotions. How fucking could he? That old dickhead.

“Jeno..I…you can’t show anyone that! Please!” You start to plead, stepping closer to him with your hands pressed together to emphasize your desperation.

“I should tell your mom.” He licks his bottom lip, the corner twitching. “Imagine finding out your barely legal daughter’s fucking some old man? Even better— her fucking boyfriend of a year. You slut.”

Your plea’s fall empty. Resorting to tears, falling to your knees before him. This was a new level of low, even for you. “Please Jeno! Please!”

He can’t deny seeing you in such a torn up state makes him pulsate between his legs. Jeno smirks, leaning back on his palms. This could work in his favor more than he’d originally thought. The initial plan was just to taunt you further and hold the video over your head, get you to complete all of his chores on top of the assignments you already did for him, but this could be even better.

Jeno reaches to unzip his jeans, earning a wide shocked stare. “W-what? What are you doing??”

“What? Daddy hasn’t taught you how to suck cock yet?” He sneers. Doesn’t bother to ask you for permission before pulling himself out. Stroking up and down until he’s fully hard.

The scary thought that Jeno’s even bigger than his dad makes your knees lock together. Nervously waiting for his instruction to move. Wagging a finger, he nods for you to come closer. Cock at full mass against his shirt, standing at least above his navel.

“Too big?” That’s what Johnny said too..you think. You shake your head ‘no’, wiping away your tears. Knowing what’s expected of you next.

Lips struggle to close around him. Cracking and straining at the corners. Jeno’s long, wide, thicker than a soda can. Unlike his dad, he makes no efforts to move. He sits and lets you suck him off. Intently watching the veins on your forehead bulge out, capturing each spitty sound.

It’s better than he’d imagined while bored in class at times. Gaze wandering toward you, his stupid little virgin. Must be too shy to flirt with him, but he refused to succumb first.

Stupid little virgin, fucking his dad instead of him. Jeno won’t admit to himself that he’s upset, not at all. Another thing to add onto the long list of reasons he can’t stand his father.

“That’s enough.” Jeno pulls at the hair on your crown. Abruptly shoving you away from his dick. Sure, he could get off right now, if the image of his dad fucking you before he got the chance wasn’t ruining this moment for him.

“Are you going to tell my mom?” You cough up. Using the back of your hand to wipe your chin clean of the pool of saliva. Jeno tucks himself back in. Grabbing on your hair hard again until your necks arched making you gaze up at him. He pinches your wrist, lifting the dirty hand to your lips until you lick yourself clean and swallow.

“God, he already has you so well trained..” he scoffs to himself. Jerking your head again until you yelp, satisfied with that reaction.

“As long as you do what I say, I’ll keep your secret safe.”

—————————————————-

“Come here pretty.” Johnny’s pushing you into the laundry room the second your mom heads out for groceries. Lifting you onto the dryer currently in use. Hot and vibrating under your pajama shorts. “Open up for daddy.”

He removes your bottoms, helping you spread into the position he wants. Knees bent with your feet pressed flat on the machine. Johnny licks his lips leaning in with a wet kiss, licking past your mouth as he unbuttons your sleeping top. Pushing it off to tweak your breast, lifting them up higher to your chin letting the fleshy meat fall back to his palms. Squeezing and bouncing your chest engulfed in his large hands.

“Need to taste you right now baby. Looked so good all sleepy, bet you rubbed your cute little pussy all night thinking about me.” He hums, slurping kisses down your neck to your chest. Laving each nipple teasingly.

Gathering your panties to one side, Johnny bends lower. Slurping up the wetness slicked all over your cunt. He’s dirty, dragging his nose between your folds, inhaling deeply. Tongue flicking out circling your entrance.

“Please, eat me out daddy.” Johnny slaps your thigh, cracking like a whip. Kissing your clit with a suck between his juicy lips.

“Are you my good girl?” He murmurs, licking up and down, bumping different euphoric inducing nerves along the way.

“I’m you-y-your good girl.” You nod, leaning back against the dryer. The blend of vibrations from Johnny’s mouth and the machine beneath you feel insane. Already a moaning mess after a few licks. Tongue slipping inside, sucking down arousal that dribbles out.

The garage door ricochet’s loudly following the sounds of your mother flinging her purse down. “Johnny!”

“Shit!” Hissing, he draws away from between your thighs. Licking away the residue of your arousal left behind on his lips. His eyes are large swiftly looking around the small room. Ripping you off the dryer, he points to a basket full of dirty clothes near the machine “In there!”

He grabs a pile of clothes, setting them on the machine and shoving you to crouch down inside the basket reeking of sweat, damp clothes under your feet making you squeamish. Of course Jeno had chosen to do laundry today of all days. Johnny drops some of the pile on your head just as your mom enters.

“There you are!” She exclaims. “Did you not hear me calling for you babe?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry honey. The machines so loud, I can’t hear much!” He speaks up, pretending to sort through some of Jeno’s clothes. “I thought you were going to the store?”

“I forgot my wallet! I can’t find it babe. Can you help me?”

“Oh of course!” Johnny gulps putting on a smile. Using his body to block out the basket behind him. He shoo’s her out following after her. “I think I saw it in the living room!” He says loud enough to let you know the kitchen would be empty, allowing you to exit through the dining room where your mom won’t spot you.

The only problem is, now your pajamas have been tossed into the wash with Jeno’s clothes. Getting caught in nothing but your underwear would be harder to explain if you do get caught rather than in one of Jeno’s t shirts.

That’s how you end up trying to not crawl on your knees up the stairs in one of Jeno’s half-dried shirts. An insurmountable amount of pain scorches between your inner thighs, left without a climax yet again.

Better judgment echoes through the depths of your mind to ‘stay away’, but the endless stinging pain between your thighs leads you to Jeno’s door.

If your mom hadn’t come home so early, you’d be vibrating from both ends on top of the dryer still. Instead of spraying fabric freshener over yourself to get rid of the lingering scent of Jeno’s sweaty gym clothes Johnny buried you beneath.

It’s not as if you considered this a good idea, but who else could you go to. On quivering legs you stand at Jeno’s door. Rasping down the frame with your knuckles, unwilling to wait for a response as you enter.

Jeno grumbles, tapping at his keyboard rabidly. “Get the fuck out of my room!”

He doesn’t even look your way as he shouts between gritting teeth. Catching enough of a glimpse of your silhouette in his peripheral to decipher it’s you. Too focused on whatever game he’s been tethered to all day to bother giving you more.

“Jeno, I’m sorry but..”

Fists slam down on the keyboard. Vibrant ‘game over’ texts take over the computer screen in front of him. Jeno’s upper lip folds tight, stretched back on his gums. He moves fast, spinning in his seat, charging at you rabidly like a wild beast.

“Did I say you could come in?” Jeno snaps, hooking your wrist together. Tugging you toward his bed aggressively, hold locked tough enough to leave marks behind. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Let you suck my dick and now you think you can just invade my privacy whenever you want?”

Jeno tosses you down to his bed, landing with a bouncing thud, hard enough to punch the breath from your lungs. He leers above you, lower lip sucked under his teeth tightly. Breaking dots of white around the lush pink with a skin tearing bite.

“The fuck are you wearing?” Jeno glowers. Fisting the front of his baggy t shirt covering everything but your legs. Dislodging the cotton materials loose neckline enough to show off your décolletage, scattered with remnants of his bruising fathers lips. Lace panties cling to your cunt, sunken between your slit where they turn darkest.

“Ugh, what is this!? Did you fucking piss yourself?” Jeno smirks. Lowering to his knees, making to drag the tip of his nose where you’re drenched. Audibly swallowing down a juicy inhale of creamy wetness. “Stupid horny slut made me lose after I’ve been trying to get to level 9 for the last two hours.”

“Jeno, ah, I didn’t..” he strikes you with a judgmental arched brow. Punishingly slapping between your thighs. Never one to shy away from demonstrating destructive overt behavior. His palm smashes down, middle finger pushing your soaked panties inside. Squelching around the digit as globs ooze out of the lace, slickening his finger to glide in with ease.

“Is this what you want?” Jeno’s mouth falls open amused. Eyebrows lifted comically to add to the sarcasm in his tone. “Fucking disgusting how wet you are. What? Daddy didn’t fuck you properly today?”

Squirming, you find purchase in the t shirt slipping off your shoulder. Biting down on the collar to control the whimper giving away lascivious hidden thoughts about Jeno.

“You know that old asshole can’t fuck you better than me, don’t you?” Jeno states confidently. Sinking deeper inside your entrance until your underwear nearly rip. Following him down the middle to shove out cunt lips covered in high gloss sheen of arousal.

“W-will, are, are you?” You mumble around his shirt. Drawn to the way your hips grind down on instinct.

“Of course I am.” Jeno slips free, middle finger rubbing down the middle of his tongue with a hot gaze inching up your figure. He sucks around himself, lips left shiny with residual arousal. “Daddy might have taken you first— but I’ll leave you broken. Too fucked out to walk, find out who your fucking daddy is now.”

“Jeno, please..” you whine, gyrating your hips for more. Whatever Jeno wants to give you at this point. Feeling more edged and sensitive from lack of orgasm.

“Please what? Tell me exactly what you want, baby. I won’t give you anything if you don’t ask.” Jeno pushes his shirt up your torso until it rests under your chin. Breasts free for him to ogle hungrily, having to imagine how they’d look out of your uniform top for years.

“Please..” your head shakes, ashamed to give in this easily. Johnny had ruined you..

Jeno’s patience wears thin, tired of dealing with whatever this little act you’re putting up. As if he hadn’t caught you impaled on his father’s dick like some slut straight out of porn.

“You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk, is that it? Is that why you’re being so fucking annoying?” Jeno spits out, biting on one of your nipples with a hard tug. Teeth digging in painfully. Having to clamp your mouth shut to suppress a scream, Johnny’s still home after all..

Big fat tears roll down your face, chest racked with sobs. Trailing between your bodies again, Jeno pets your pussy, pressing down on your clit through the soaked material.

“You’re so wet..” He hums curiously. Reaching out to grab your face with his other hand, he jabs your cheeks in until your lips jut out. Bending over to bite your swollen lower lip until you’re hissing. “Why are you so wet for someone you don’t even wanna fuck huh?”

“I—..” your eyes widen, Jeno’s thick cock dips between your thighs. Pulling out as he sucks on the skin under your mouth. “I wan…want y-you.”

“Don’t lie, I fucking hate liars.”

“No-not lying.” You gulp, lowering one of your hands to tug your underwear aside. Jeno sits up ripping off his hoodie. He’s perfect, he’s always been perfect. If Johnny’s better than Greek God’s, Jeno’s what men should have been modeled after..at least physically.

“Is that right then?” He grabs onto the base of his cock, swiping up and down between your folds. Disgusting gushing noises travel between your lower halves. The bulbous head tries to push past your tight entrance.

“Fuck me..please Jeno, want it. Want you.” You hate to admit it. Lifting your neck up in awe watching his length struggle to penetrate you. “W-won’t fit..”

You’re almost speechless, dropping back with a cry. Jeno’s tip thrusts in, stretching you to full capacity.

“I’ll make it fit baby.” Jeno shushes you, snapping forward halfway with a stuttering thrust. Bracketing your head, his mouth falls on top of yours sucking down each shattered little cry you let out. Sliding further inside even with restraint around his cock making it harder to not just fuck all the way into you.

Jeno cups the back of your head with one hand, the other covering the necklace his dad gifted you. Wrapping your throat snuggly under his palm.

“Look at this.” Jeno finally fills you to the brim, balls deep. Connecting your bottom halves together completely. Holding himself off your body just enough for you to see it. He thrust once for you to watch the way your stomach swells. Stuffed deep enough to make you bulge out. “That means I fucking own you now.”

Letting your head drop back, Jeno wraps your neck securely with both hands. Gripping until you can hardly breathe anymore.

“Belong to me, just me.” Punctuating his words with a punishing thrust, Jeno’s length sits heavy inside you each time he bottoms out. Smiling menacingly when you nod like a maniac, slapping around his forearms for some purchase. He starts to pick up the pace fucking you thoroughly. Huge cock dipping in and out encouraging more wetness to drip down onto his bed.

Jeno’s cutting off your air and wails, choking you hard enough to leave marks behind that you’ll have to hide with makeup. He wants you to get caught, he wants the both of you to get caught. You should have never fucked his dad in the first place.

“Fucking slut.” He lets out through harsh intakes of breath. Growling low and raspy in his throat. Watching your body jostle under him with each violent thrust. “Meant for this aren’t you? Meant to take my cock.”

High pitched mewls pass from your lips, clutching at Jeno’s veiny rippling forearms, digging your nails into his wrists. He likes it, knowing your marks will be there the next day to remind him of how he ruined your pussy. Moaning over and over again in a woozy state that he’s brought you to. Plowed into mercilessly making your toes curl.

“Jeno— cum-I’m cum—“ you choke out, eyes rolling back, clamping your thighs around his hips. He snaps faster at that, lowering until his elbows dig into your ribs. Jeno grunts, fucking your hips deeper into the matress.

“No one else will ever make you feel as good as I make you feel, do you hear me?” Jeno shakes your neck, loosening his hold enough, waiting for your reply. Nothing but garbled noises pass, hips lifting just enough to slot him against that spot pushing you to the peak.

Jeno captures your scream with lips smacked against yours. His abdomen twitches milked by your walls squeezing around his throbbing length. Unable to hold back any longer, releasing his seed deep inside your cunt.

Jeno seems to have a thing for cumming inside of you, just like his dad..

He sits up on wobbly legs, inching out slowly to watch creamy globs of cum mixed in with your release drip out around his size. Fingering it up and down between your slit. He wads up a dollop, pushing it back inside your sore stretched out hole. Lifting whatever drips out to his mouth to suck off the mixture of your releases.

“This pussy’s mine now.” Jeno looks crazed speaking to himself. Kissing across your collarbone, he sucks roughly enough to draw blood up to the surface. Too disoriented to shove him away, caught up catching your breath to pay attention to anything past the static noise filling your ears. Lowering down, he lays his head on your stomach. Playing with the sticky combined cum that won’t stay inside of you.

Jeno grumbles, licking a small pathway to your navel. It’d be sweet if he hadn’t just fucked you into the next century..

“Stupid asshole, taking what was mine to begin with.”

—————————————————-

Johnny notices you’ve grown less needy in the next week. Blaming your studies for piling up when he kisses your ear. You’re not lying necessarily, even if you feign feeling too exhausted to visit his office after dinner.

“I have so many exams this week.” You don’t, but Jeno insists over text messages that you help him out with an ‘online test’ after dinner.

Johnny seems frustrated by your lack of excitement. Stroking the vein along the side of your throat down to the hem of your collar. Squinting as he catches something similar to a bruise on your collarbone. Easing free from his arms as you pretend to yawn again, you blow him a kiss goodnight. His brows furrow wondering why you would choose studying over precious time that could be spent drooling on his cock.

It’s not that you’d rather spend it drooling over Jeno’s, but that is where you find yourself a couple minutes later.

“You’re getting better at this.” Jeno groans, butt lifted from his gaming chair rocking forward until you finally gag around him. “I guess daddy’s useful for something. Transforming you into a perfect slut for me.”

“Mmphh” you try to nod, barely able to move with Jeno shoving you down. Nose shoved against warm skin above the base of his cock. Coughing and regurgitating roughly as he presses harder. Sounds of struggle only seem to appease him more, balls tightening up with each resistant muffle. Reaching down, Jeno pinches your nostrils together until you’re squirming fiercely underneath his desk. Foot shoving past your jumping thighs until your heated core presses against his shin.

“Son?” Johnny enters. Stiffening Jeno momentarily without even giving him a warning knock on the door. He sounds serious, maybe even angry. “I have to talk to you.”

Jeno’s throat clears, letting go of the back of your head to wipe sweat from his brow bone. “Dad. What’s up.”

Returning his father with a serious tone, Jeno keeps a pinching hold on your nose. Cock buried full inside your mouth. His calve lifts up and down rubbing your wet panties against his leg.

“Coach called me today, he said you’re flunking out of physics. He can’t save your ass again if you don’t make this grade.” Johnny’s definitely disappointed. The floor creaks, catching moving shadows from under Jeno’s desk, he’s pacing back and forth. Probably rubbing his chin in annoyance.

“I’ll try harder.” Jeno lies through his teeth, desperate to get his dad to leave. Forcing your hips to circle his leg with a heightened speed.

“You say this everytime.” His dad sighs, jolting under the desk trying to not choke around Jeno again when Johnny says your name. “Why can’t you be more like her? Studying right now instead of wasting time online playing games.”

If Johnny doesn’t leave soon, you fear passing out. Jeno must pick up on your nerves when your thighs clutch around him. Letting your nose go he lets out a long winded sigh just in time to cover the deep breath you take, filling your brain with enough oxygen to calm yourself down.

“You’re right dad, I’m sorry. I’m going to spend the rest of my night trying to be more like her.” It comes out sounding more snarky to you than he means it. Full of sarcasm but innocent enough to convince Johnny there’s no getting through to his idiot son. Either way it’s the response he wants to hear, telling Jeno to take his academics seriously on the way out.

Letting out a lengthy breath, Jeno wheels back in his seat to watch you struggle on his size. Face destroyed with tears and snot staring up at him.

“Daddy wants me to be more like you, did you hear that?” He taunts, gripping your hair with both hands. Beating the top of his foot against your ass. “A dumb little whore good for nothing but taking cock.”

That seems like enough to set him off. Pushing up from his seat higher to fully thrust up into your mouth. A controlled hold on your hair keeping you held in place to fuck your throat harder, fast enough for his balls covered in drool to wetly smack against the bottom of your chin. Beating into your face until you sound ready to throw up.

“C-can’t do that, C-can I?” Jeno’s growling between ragged breaths. Rolling a bundle of your hair together in one fist, pulling roughly. Free’d up to slap your cheek repeatedly where his cock bulges out with each thrust. “Fuck!”

Screaming between grinding teeth, Jeno’s butt clenches. Stilling buried as far down your throat as you can handle, not missing an inch.

His nose wrinkles up, licking his lips between pleasured hisses. Making your throat drown with hot white strings of cum trickling down.

“Wait until he finds out..” Jeno grunts, shoving your face away roughly. The top of your head knocking against the desk. “You’re nothing but a stupid whore getting off on my leg.”

Tucking himself back in, Jeno nods to the sheen left on his calve. “Clean it up.”

—————————————————---

Jeno’s determined to break you. His father may treat you like fine China, easy to crack, extra careful to not drop but Jeno wants you covered in bite marks and bruises. He seems more determined than ever to ruin you for anyone else.

“You wanna be my slut only, don’t you?” Jeno shakes you by the throat. Pistoning his hips forward filling your insides. He knows you could get caught, acting more reckless than ever this last week. He doesn’t care, he wants it to happen.

“Je-Jeno..” you croak struggling under his harsh grip. Arching off the bed, cock catching right where you need him with his next thrust.

“Daddy won’t fuck you like me.” He emphasizes with a rough pass. Lodged deep inside just to watch the skin under your belly button protrude with each grind. “Come on baby, tell me the truth. That old man fuck you like this?”

The truth would only infuriate him.. more than enough of a good reason to be honest.

“He’s better.” You manage to get out. Lungs constricted yet again from Jeno’s chokehold. He’s manic, glaring at you with widened eyes.

“The fuck did you just say?” Jeno grits, slapping against your ass roughly. Hip bones crashing into you at a maddening pace. He’s still too big for you to be used to, exhaling short breaths as you get further up the bed. The top of your head knocking into the headboard with each deadly thrust he delivers.

Sure, it was stupid to piss him off, but your wit’s easy to forget with smooth cock pushing you to your limits.

“Taking it like a fucking whore.” Jeno murmurs, eyeing how much more slippery his length is each draw back. “Because that pussy belongs to me, just for me. Only my pussy to fuck.”

“Y-yes..” you know you shouldn’t agree, but the way Jeno’s cock twitches inside of you at that makes the lie worth it. Feeling dumbed down by dick, ditzy enough to forget you’re only here because Jeno’s blackmailing you with a video of you fucking his dad. Your mom’s boyfriend..

“You love this fat cock in you, don’t you?!” He asks, more ferocious. Hips jerking forward to pound into you harder. Jeno holds your neck with one hand, using the other to pat your cheek rougher than he should.

“Mmm…mhmmm..” rutting up, you fuck him back. Heavy balls emiting wet sounds as they land against your cunt.

“Keep fucking yourself on my dick.” Jeno orders, quietly impressed by the amount of wetness coating his size. He uses the motivation to thrust into you faster. Pussy gripped around him tight enough he nearly pops out. Throwing extra force with the next swivel of his hips, slamming until you’re nothing but shriveled sobs.

You should feel stupid cumming around Jeno’s cock after everything he’s put you through, and still puts you through. There’s more to it than just good dick. Babbling nonsense before he shuts you up with a hot press of his lips. Jeno likes kissing you more than he should, enough to reach his climax with a few more thrusts. Balls emptying inside of you again.

A nap seems like a great idea right now, if only you had been paying attention when Jeno didn’t actually lock the door behind you..

“I knew it.” Johnny enters Jeno’s bedroom, hands clasped together with a tight jaw. The sound of his tongue clicking from behind his sealed lips. Of course Jeno didn’t lock the door, of course. “I fucking knew it.”

Jeno grunts, slapping one of his hands over your mouth as you start to squawk apologetically. Continuing to keep you held down with a choking hold around your neck. “Looks like daddy showed up. Almost thought you’d let me down again.”

It’s silent for a moment other than the rough circling sounds of Jeno’s hips rolling down. Forcing wetness between your lower halves to slap skin on skin together stickly.

“Can’t believe you’re my son.” Johnny glares down at him. One brow lifting unimpressed. “There’s no way you’ve ever made her cum with that weak stroke.”

That’s the last thing you expect to hear, he’s mad, at Jeno.

“I make her cum more than you’ll ever be able to old man.” Jeno spits back. Shoving your thighs open to show off his cum leaking out. Johny laughs at that beginning to loosen his tie, sitting up on your elbows confused when he unbuttons his top.

“Daddy??” You asks, unsure if this is actually happening or Jeno just fucked you that good.

“Shh shh princess. I know.” Johnny moves further inside the room, unzipping his slacks. He pets your heated tear stained cheek cooing. Tsking when he sees the marks Jeno’s left behind on your neck and chest.

“Pathetic little boy that has no idea how to treat pretty girls like you.” He sneers, pushing his boxers and slacks off in one go. Fingers snapping at Jeno, nodding his chin behind you. “Hold her.”

Even if he’s annoyed, Jeno listens, moving behind you to scoop underneath your arms. Back rested on his chest, reaching up to move hair away that's stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“What’s..what’s going on?” You quiver looking over Johnny’s bare figure in front of you. Jeno’s stiff cock digs into the dip of your back. His dad lifting your ankles onto his shoulders, wrapping around his cock to push away the cums thats still stuck on your labia.

“Gotta show Jeno how it’s done.” Johnny says calmly, as if this happens all the time. “Can’t have someone with my last name out there ruining my reputation like this.”

Naively you wonder what reputation, quickly shutting out that thought when Johnny presses on your sensitive clit. “Ah! It hurts!”

Johnny beams down at you, eyes twinkling joyfully. “Ah, you poor thing.” Johnny chuckles. “Does it hurt badly?”

It sounds comical to hear again, this had to be a joke. Jeno’s lips press to the side of your forehead, mumbling for you to stay quiet.

“Hurry up and fuck her dad.” He pipes up abruptly. Growing fully hard behind you again. Impatiently waiting for his father to finish so he can go another round.

“Shut your mouth.” Johnny throws out keeping his gaze on you. “You ready sweetie?”

Your mouth wants to say ‘no’ but you nod ‘yes’. Hissing through your teeth as Johnny holds your hips in place, positioning himself at your dripping cunt. He sheathes inside, stretching with much more ease to accommodate his length after taking Jeno.

“That’s a good girl.” Johnny says, cupping the backs of your thighs. He lifts them until you’re folded up, sandwiched between his and Jeno’s chest. His cock sliding in even deeper at this new angle, breaking through your womb. “Even if you’re letting my son use your pretty pussy up.”

“She likes my dick more.” Jeno mutters against your cheek. Palming your chest, he pinches your nipples making you arch as much as you’re able to crushed under his father’s weight.

“Don’t lie to yourself Jeno.” Johnny grunts pistoning with fierce vigor. Cock drilling into you faster upon hearing his son’s words. There’s no way you could enjoy this with Jeno more.

Not when you’re cumming after only minutes. Johnny fucks against your resistance, slippery, dripping down past his balls. Thrusts grow brutal set to prove he only he can fuck you properly. Fuck you good enough to drive you crazy, begging for his cock.

“D-daddy, can’t, no..no more..” you croon. Jeno reaches up to cover your mouth and shush you. His dad’s eyebrows twist together frustrated, wanting to fuck another orgasm out of you.

Johnny’s close, jostling your body with each thrust against Jeno’s sweaty chest. Short of breath after having another orgasm fucked out of you. He’s biting on his lip hard enough to taste blood. Fucking long and hard, turning delirious to the pleasure of your tight cunt wrapping him with maddening heat.

“Honey! Surprise! I’m home!!” It’s your mom's voice carrying up the stairs. Hazily shaking your head on Jeno’s shoulder too strung out after another weak orgasm passes through you.

“What the fuck?” Jeno panics letting go of your arms. “Dad, what the fuck? Why is she home??”

“Urghh..” you gurgle random sounds, burying your face in Jeno’s pillow. Fucked into at an increased speed.

“Dad, stop!” Jeno hisses, finally realizing the doors not even fully shut.

“Johnny?” She says again, closer. Walking away from his office toward the staircase.

“Fuck…ugh fuck.” Johnny shoots out a hot load of semen with one final thrust. The sound of footsteps running up the stairs rushing him along faster than he wants. Pulling out with a lewd pop he grabs Jeno’s shoulder shoving him down. Listening to your mother opening their bedroom door down the hall calling his name again. He scrambles to gather his clothing, glancing at Jeno’s closet and bathroom. Bathroom meant a window to escape from if need be.

Your mother with no concern for lack of privacy rips open the door to Jeno’s bedroom next, just as Johnny opts for the bathroom. Keeping the door halfway open and hiding just behind it for less suspicion.

“Joh— oh my God! What the hell is going on here!” Her smile falls, brows shot up to her hairline taking in the sight of Jeno on his knees in front of you. Cum dripping out past the perineum of your ass onto Jeno’s bed where his earlier release stains.

Jeno sighs, quickly catching his dad’s cold stare between the door crack before turning to your mom.

“Do your eyes not work? I’m fucking your daughter. So can you get the fuck out?”

next: Chain—>

#johnny smut #jeno smut #johnny suh smut #lee jeno smut #nct johnny #nct jeno #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut #neopuppy fics #onek #nct imagines #nct fanfiction #nct 127 fanfic #nct dream fanfic #kpop fanfiction #the tags hate me why

[sunny-mercya]

Bittersweet

Geto Suguru x Male Reader | Platonic! Guilty Gojo Satoru x Male Reader

Fandom -> Jujutsu Kaisen

Masterlist

Gojo always detest it when he had to visit you. It wasn't because he hated—a strong word, more like dislike—you, if anything, it was more out of the still immense guilt he feels in your presence.

A guiltiness which eats him up, making him a pitiful whimpering mess in the nights. Bawling his eyes out at the empty shrines, after every visit—his confidence crumbling into nothing but dust, the insecurity resurfacing again and haunting him like the phantom, dull, pain he feels in his eyes and back.

It was his fault. His damned fault that you're like this now. A mere shell of apathetic lethargy and suicidal tendencies—three tries had almost succeeded.

So yes, Gojo detests, hated it even, to visit you. He had to though, in his sole duty of being your friend—even when you once had said, he isn't anymore a friend but a stranger—and because leiri made him to do.

Trotting up the stairs to your apartment, bags in one hand and the other causally in his pant pockets—playing with the house-keys—Gojo thought what to cook for you.

Perhaps your favourite? No, no, that it is only reserved for the Sundays. A light meal then? Something with fish? Pizza or Pasta? The list is endless to choice from and giving him a headache.

Shoko had told him, in her doctoring lecturing way, to create a Meal-Plan and only cook light meals for you—easy to digest—and nothing too overall fatty and heavy.

Gojo had waved her off, nagging at her how you wouldn't be able to enjoy the goods of foods with something dumb as a "meal-plan".

In the end, Gojo admits that Shoko was indeed right. Considering the amounts of meals and dishes he had taken home for himself, giving it away to his students or the homeless or had to throw it all away. After all you couldn't eat more than, on your good days, three to four bites—till hours later you would heave it up into the toilet again.

A Meal-Plan, huh? Yeah he could do that. Megumi can help him too.

Unlocking the door, Gojo stepped in and announced his presence.

~~~

After emptying out the bags and putting away the items for now, Gojo ventured into the living room—knowing well you're in there, either sitting or laying on the couch and watching whatever is being shown in the television.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, once upon seeing a half finished puzzle on the coffee table and messy toys around it.

Megumi had brought them over during his last visit, telling you; these are much better to beat boredom than some television. Next time I'll bring some books.

Gojo was glad, relieved even, that you played with it.

Crouching down in front of you, blocking the view to television with his still towering high, he takes your hand in his—greeting you with a more softer gently smile.

»Sky eyes,«

Gojo had decided long ago, when you had first muttered those words to him—in the very beginning of your mental downfall, now a in a constant state of lingering decaying—that this was your way of greeting him, how you told him that you're aware of his presence.

Gojo had once made a mistake to come with his blindfold and spooked you so much—you really had believed and still would, if he tries again, that Gojo had been some kind of intruder with evil intentions—you screamed shrill and released a upcoming hurricane of thunderstorms with your cursed energy—now particularly sealed away for your own safety.

So now, whenever Gojo comes over he wears his round shaped sunglasses from his highschool years.

»Yeah, it's me, how are you today [Nickname]?« he asked questions even when he knew he wouldn't get replies from you.

»Hungry? I will made you some nice chicken nuggets, brought the Dino-shaped this time«

Gojo was aware he babbles. He doesn't care, he rather talks nonsense to himself and your apathetic self—than listen to the constant annoying chatter of the television and the upcoming silence which would follow afterwards.

»C'mon [Name], it's bath time,« Gojo picks you up, carrying you into the bathroom and sitting you down on a stool.

He fills the bathtub, making sure the temperature was neither too hot nor cold. He adds some bubble foam to it and two toys.

Gojo undress you slowly, cautiously of your still fresh wounds—self-inflicted days ago, when a night had gotten worse again. Sitting you in the water, he washes you. Humming happily some melody, occasionally joining you in moving the toy ducks arounds.

»Quack squishy wuack«

»Yeah, wuacky quacky [Nickname], look there wants to join another ducky« he showed you the third toy duck, adding it to the water.

A squeal of joy came over your lips, looking with wide eyes at Gojo, happiness radiating off from you as you continue to play.

Gojo's lips trembles, guilt crawling up his throat again.

~~~

Nights are cruel in their own way. Leaving the thoughts spinning and setting them free. Bringing out a loneliness and feelings once deep buried down.

Gojo buried his head in his hands, slightly gripping his snow white hair—you once said to him, how his hair reminds you of the first snow—sitting at the edge of your bed.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, breathing in a pattern of three-five-five. His thoughts are going haywire again, flaring up the guilt—which is now so thick in his throat that he couldn't swallow anymore.

He looks at you—such a peaceful expression on your face, already so deep in the blissful dreamland—moving his hand to slowly drive through your hair with his fingers, all the way down to your cheeks and caressing them.

His gaze goes to the few photo frames on your nightstand, the small nightlight illuminates only so much. One particular photo always captures his attention.

It was a photo of Geto and you, happily married with Nanako and Mimiko—when they had been around 3 years old—in your arms.

A time where you had been the uttermost happiest. Now it was in ruins, leaving you all alone.

If Gojo had been a bit stronger, if he didn't let Geto go, back then when they had argued over jujutsu sorcery's politics and their moral beliefs towards the world, had been more stubborn—than it wouldn't have ended like this.

With his best friend being dead—at fault for this was Gojo himself, he was the one who killed Geto after all—and you, who had already lost your husband and losing your daughters shortly after—till today you didn't know how they died and Gojo thanked the above that it hadn't been him who done that—who is nothing but a decaying shell forevermore.

»Ya know, [Nickname], I've decided you gonna move in with me now. So I can take even better care of you.«

That's what Geto would've wanted.

#male reader #x male reader #anime #manga #fanfiction #malereader #oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #geto suguru x male reader #geto x male reader

[dellalyra]

ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋ: ᴀᴋɪᴏ ʀʏᴜ ᴛᴀᴅᴀsʜɪ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

ᴀ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ᴇxᴛʀᴀ

Pixie says: requested by my darling angel mrs.geto (aka @soraya-daydreams) forever ago but I have just finished bc uni has been kicking my booty. i love this - it’s mostly silly but a nice lil extra for FF.

The first time Akio laughed, it surpised nobody that it was his father who elicited the sound. The game of peekaboo had always made the baby smile and gurgle away but today it seemed to especially tickle him as you lay beside him on the bed with Satoru popping in and out sporadically of his field of vision. Satoru popped up with enough gusto to even make you laugh. That’s when the most melodic sound either of you had heard rang across the room. A tiny, bubbling giggle from the stretched out baby on the comforter - you both froze.

“Do it again, ‘Toru.” You whisper, urgently.

So he does.

And he laughs again.

That night you both spent hours coming up with ways to make the baby laugh and recording videos to send to the family.

Safe to say, next time Itadori was over - it became very clear that Akio was a Gojo through and through when he began laughing at Sukuna’s malicious remarks through Yuuji’s cheek mouth.

At 5 months, Akio was on his play mat on the living room floor while you made some food with your husband. Music from the speaker had coaxed your husband into twirling you around and wrapping you in his arms as he laughed at whatever nonsense you were babbling on about, pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose. You’re spun like a princess and when you see the baby mat, you gasp. Satoru stops, looking at you - then the mat.

Akio wasn’t on his back anymore chewing on his teething ring - he was sitting up.

Sitting up and staring at you both.

With a murderous glare of an angry cat, exactly like his father.

“He sat up.” Satoru whispers.

“Yeah, with first degree murder in mind, I think.” You reply.

You approach the baby (cautiously).

His face suddenly changes into a bright smile, wide and cheerful as he has another first.

He reaches his chubby little arms out and makes grabby hands toward you.

Gasping, you scoop him up.

“My baby! Of course you can have a cuddle, my smart little man!” You coo, nuzzling his little head.

Satoru leaps over the back of the sofa and comes to join in.

“Grabby hands and sitting up in one night! Baby boy, you’re spoiling us!” He says, reaching to squeeze his arms around your waist.

The baby frowns.

Satoru pulls away.

Akio smiles.

Satoru lifts Akio from your arms, and he’s fine and dandy, nuzzling his papa.

Satoru goes to kiss you both on the cheek but when he gets to you he’s met with a scowling baby again.

“Holy shit - kid, am I not allowed to touch your mama?!” Satoru gasps.

You test the theory and find that Akio loves cuddling you both still, just - separate. The minute Satoru tries to kiss you it’s back to the scowl (luckily, not a tantrum).

“Listen here - she was my wife first.” He narrows his eyes at the baby he has suspended above his head.

“He’s bound to be a little possessive, he did come out of me.” You roll your eyes, laughing at the two Gojo boys battling for your attention.

Satoru pouts, sulking.

“Yeah well, I come in you.” He retorts.

“You are so lucky that child is only 6 months old and you haven’t scarred him for life like you did with Megumi.”

At 7 months - you and Satoru were waving goodbye to Megumi on a Sunday evening as he went back to stay at the dorms for the week, with Akio on your hip. Feeling movement from the baby, you look at him as he clumsily waves his hand around toward his brother.

“Look! ‘Toru! He’s waving bye-bye! You waving bye-bye to ‘Gumi, baba?” You coo, as Megumi stands at the gate for an extra minute just to wave at his little brother being doted on by his parents. Ijichi, here to collect Megumi, receives a wave too.

8 months - Akio’s hand and finger movements are improving rapidly, slightly advanced for his age if anything. He can grab and pull and push and pick things up now - much to the entire families amazement.

One sunny Thursday evening, the designated day every week for ‘Kooking with Kento’, as you named it back in High School. The tradition formed when Nanami first made enough food for an exhausted young and Satoru one day after a particularly long and frustrating mission, and has been a weekly occurrence since. Nanami would come to the house, you and him would cook and then the family would eat together. This week, with it being a balmy April evening - you sat outside in the garden together, a bottle of wine split between you all and Akio on his Godfather’s lap. Mid-sentence, Kento was cut off as Akio reached up to grab his Uncle’s sunglasses off his face.

It was silent for a moment as the baby waved them around, before you and Satoru burst into cacophonous laughter.

Nanami couldn’t help the small smile as he fitted the glasses on the babies small face.

First word was unsurprising. A day trip out with his parents, sitting in a cafe as you and Satoru share two large slices of cake and milkshakes and Akio drools over the sight in from of him. He begins jabbing his little hand at the plate, poking you both in the face and babbling nonsense.

“You had some cake, ‘Kio!” You laugh.

“This is my cake. Papa’s cake.” Satoru says.

“Eh? Mama and Papa’s cake. ‘S mine too!” You pout, batting his fork away with yours.

“I’m bigger than you, so I should get about 70% of it.” He reasons.

“Absolutely not. I wanted my own slice, you insisted on sharing because it would be romantic so it’s a 50/50 split or go get your own, Satoru Gojo.” You glare. Cake’s a serious topic in your house.

“It is romantic!” He argues.

“I agree, it’s adorable, and I love that you suggested such a cute thing - what’s also adorable is cake. We split the cake 50/50, Satoru. It was literally in our wedding vows that all cakes be split in half so that we can both live happy lives.” You contribute, still sword fighting his fork.

“Cake!” Came an angry little voice.

“Mama’s cake!”

“Papa’s cake!”

There’s silence.

Akio is looking at you both.

You look at him, then each other. Tears spilling in both your eyes.

“Cake!” Akio claps, shouting the word again.

You both let out a sob. Hugging him and then each other and pressing kisses to every face at the table.

“As much as you want, sweet baby!” You say, feeding the 11 month old a bite of your cake.

“Any cake! All of it!” Satoru nods, beaming and ordering three more slices.

His first steps, came toward his father.

Satoru had been training with Megumi all afternoon in school, before they both got into his car and drove home to you and Akio. You had returned to work a month prior, continuing to teach the second years and had picked up Akio from your mom’s that afternoon before driving home.

You were sitting on the floor with your baby, playing with his blocks and reading him stories before the jingle of keys could be heard at the front door. Your son crawled out of your lap and toward the hallway, stopping at the coffee table as the door unlocked and in walked his father and older brother.

“Hi, my loves!” Satoru calls, smiling and blowing kisses toward you both as he takes off his sunglasses and coat.

“Hi mom.” Megumi calls.

Akio squeals, hearing the two voices, using the edge of the table to pull himself onto his feet as he’d been doing for a month now.

The two men come around the corner, and Megumi leans against the archway to the room and Satoru kneels down on his haunches as he always does to let Akio crawl to him.

However, nobody expected him to pull his hands away from the table and begin to take wobbly, determined steps toward him.

“Oh my god!” You gasp.

“Yes, baby! You got this! Come see papa!” Satoru calls, delight evident.

Megumi straightens up, walking around the side - ready to pounce at any sign of a tumble.

The baby makes his way just to his father’s feet on his unsteady feet before his legs give way and he tumbles straight into his father’s large, waiting arms.

The three of you crowd over him, cooing and kissing and crying (you and Satoru), and later when he walks toward Megumi - you record a video - a very precious video to save to the collection.

At 14 months, a trip to the playground reveals a lot.

You and Satoru, Megumi and Itadori (Nobara is shopping, unsurprisingly) are sitting having a picnic as you watch the baby toddle around the area playing with the giant abacus and building blocks, and thoroughly enjoying the sandpit.

You see his little head follow something, eyes locked intently on it. Following his line of sight, all you can see is a playhouse. A cute, wooden playhouse.

Looking to your side, you see your husband is staring at the same spot.

“Satoru?” You ask.

“He’s looking right at it.”

“Huh? The playhouse? Why’s he so focused on it?” You puzzle, there’s one in the garden at home so it’s not a new sight for the baby.

“No. There’s - Y/N - there’s a fly head in it.” Satoru says, eyes flicking between the boy and the playhouse.

Your head snaps, toward the baby.

You follow his line of sight, and sure enough he’s staring directly at the top left corner of the playhouse roof.

“Is it in the top left corner?” You ask Satoru.

He nods.

“Holy shit.” You whisper.

“He’s got it.” Satoru says, breathless in wonder.

“Huh? Got what?” Itadori asks through a mouthful of strawberries.

“Shut up, just watch.” Megumi elbows him.

“How…? I thought - ” You begin.

“It’s said to be impossible but… I always wondered with the strength of your cursed energy - combined with my bloodline, if it would create another one.” Satoru says, serious and thoughtful.

“He doesn’t have my cursed energy though? Only yours.” You ask.

“It’s only Gojo energy he has, yeah, but what Gojo energy would have been weakened by one parent being a less powerful sorcerer was bolstered by the fact you’re a special grade yourself. It strengthened my genes to create another one, fully powered.” He says, breathless in his awe.

Your jaw drops. Shocked.

Akio - has broken the mould.

Two wielders of the Six Eyes now exist in the world.

You look back at the baby, grabbing Satoru’s hand who squeezes it three times (I love you.) You squeeze it back four. (I love you too).

The baby pulls himself up. Toddling in the direction of the playhouse. You go to stand up, a flick of a finger from any adult or student sorcerer would exorcise a fly head. You’re pulled back down, onto your husband’s lap.

“They’re harmless alone. It won’t hurt him.” He says.

You know he’s right, and wouldn’t ever let anything hurt a hair on that baby’s head so you sit, leaning back against his chest.

As Akio approaches the playhouse, the fly head comes out and perches on the little bench beside it.

Akio stares at it, tilting his head like a curious kitten.

Itadori jumps up, ready to go fist fight in a playground - but Megumi pulls him down.

“Watch this.” Megumi says, quietly.

The fly head moves toward where Megumi’s divine dogs are flanking the baby and lands on Akio’s shoulder. He just looks at it, curious - until it pulls on his fluffy white hair. Without a sound, just a frown - and a smack of a pudgy fist - the fly head drops to the ground, fizzling into nothing.

You and Satoru just look on in awe, silent and amazed by your beautiful baby boy.

“He’s something special.” Satoru says, voice full of love.

“Course he is, he’s part of you.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Itadori is just sitting slack jawed.

“Did the baby just -” He mumbles.

“Welcome to the Gojo household.” Megumi smirks.

His first conscious choice of style came with a decision at two and a half. He marched into the living room where you sat, his papa’s head on your lap as you stroked his hair. Papa had the same hair as Akio, just shorter.

“Mama! Papa!” He says, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, sir?” Satoru says, one eye open and saluting the child.

“Change my hair!” He says, determined.

Your heart nearly broke - hoping he wouldn’t ask for it to be cut - you adored his long white locks you tied in a little bun. Yet, if he wanted it cut - you’d agree.

“What do you want to do, ‘Kio?” You ask, still combing your hands through the head of hair on your lap, where your husband sat nuzzling the growing bump and whispering sweet nothings to you and the baby inside.

He pats the top of his head, looking at you both from in front of the fireplace.

“Up here! Like Uncle Soso!” He says, smiling.

You and Satoru just smile at him (relieved he’s okay with keeping his precious long hair).

“You want two little buns like Uncle Soso?” You confirm.

He nods, very assuredly.

“Your Uncle Soso’s hair is pretty fire, kid, good choice.” Satoru smiles at him, beckoning him to sit on his lap where he lays.

“Yeah, ‘s so fire.” The baby nods, smiling and grinning.

“Okay, how about we do it the next time we go see him at school?” You suggest.

The baby cheers and claps and tosses himself onto his father’s lap like an Olympian, thanks to his tall height for a 2 and a half year old and then hugs you both.

“Mama? Maybe we watch Toothless? Papa loves Toothless. As a s‘prise for him?” He whispers (he doesn’t, he’s got all the subtlety of his father).

“Oh, is it for Papa? I thought we watched How To Train Your Dragon for Akio?” You smirk.

“No - for papa.”

You look down at your husband.

“No. He’s right. It’s for papa.” Satoru confirms, smirking up at you both before flicking on the film as the three (four) of you curl up under a blanket.

Akio’s first little sibling was a day of great excitement for him. He sat, not patiently, on the floor of his ‘Uncle Soso’s’ apartment, playing with blocks and toy animals with him (his Uncle Soso was very fun to play with, he thought) and asking every 20 minutes if the baby had come. Every time, Uncle Soso would say “not yet, ‘Kio, but soon.”

When the phone rang, and Choso answered Megumi’s call saying the baby was here and it was time to come to the infirmary - he scooped up Akio and said,

“Wanna go meet your sister?”

Akio was enamoured with Mirai from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was so tiny, even tinier than his baby dolls and looked like a pretty snowflake. She had the same hair as him, white and fluffy but her eyes looked like his Mama’s. He kissed her softly on the forehead, trying to remember all the things ‘Gumi and Uncle Soso told him about being a good big brother.

He was so attentive, insisting on playing quietly in the same room as Mirai when she napped so he could keep an eye on her - and keeping a little cloth in his toy box so he could help Papa or Mama if she had too much milk. He would sit and tell her stories every night, trying to remember the ones Mama and Papa told him about the heroes who saved the world, the Knight with the Pink Hair (he thought that one was cool, since his Jiji (Yuuji) has pink hair), The Prince of Shadows, The Piercing Princess and the Wizard Kendo. He told her the love stories of the King and Queen in the stories too, he liked those characters a lot - The Honoured King and The Queen of The Forest. Sometimes, he would wake up in the morning and see Papa asleep, with Mirai on his broad chest and Mama asleep in bed and crawl into bed between them, holding their hands and kissing his baby sister, before drifting back to sleep with them.

The first secret he had to keep was the ring. He was 6 and ‘Gumi was sitting at the table with him, Mirai and their parents.

“Mom, dad - I - um… wanna show you guys something.” He said, awkwardly as ever.

Akio didn’t look up, his pasta was too good.

Well, he didn’t look up until he heard his Papa gasp and his mama shout ‘No fucking way!’.

On the table, in front of Megumi was a tiny black box with a gold ring inside. Whats so special about that? Mama and Papa both wear rings all the time.

“You’re gonna do it? You’re gonna ask him?” His mama asks, voice sounding funny.

“How? Is it super romantic? Oh my god, our baby boy is getting married!” His papa shouts.

“I haven’t asked him yet!” Megumi retorts, his face really red.

“Like he’d ever say no.” His dad rolls his eyes.

“Your dad’s right, ‘Gumi - he adores the ground you walk on! When are you going to ask him? Do you need any help? We can book out a restaurant or something for you!” You squeal in excitement.

“Tomorrow. I’m not going to do anything extravagant - you two always said your private, quiet proposal was really special so I’m going down that route.” He says, shrugging but face focused.

“What’s a posal?” Mirai asks, face covered in sauce.

“When you ask someone to marry you, ‘Rai.” Akio responds to her.

“How did you posal, mama and papa?” She asks, poking her dad in the arm.

“Your papa made a pretty picnic and we sat out in the garden in the summer and he gave me a pretty ring and asked if I would marry him. It was just us two, and it was perfect.” You say, tilting your head to kiss your husband, both softly smiling.

“Of course it was, everything I do is perfect - just look around this table. I’m the strongest.” Satoru nodded, winking.

“Of course I said yes, and we got married and that was 12 years ago! Then we had you two squirts.” You says, sticking out his tongue. You stood up, walking to put your arms around Megumi’s shoulders and kiss the top of his head, eyes teary and smiling.

“And she’ll never get away!” Satoru says, running to lift you up and over his shoulder, tickling your sides as you squeal, before he sits back down, now with you on his lap, arm around his neck. Papa and Mama were always touching, he liked seeing them cuddle, it made them both smile a lot.

“So ‘Gumi is gonna marry Jiji?” Mirai asks.

“I’m gonna ask him to, yeah. Is that okay with you two, because if we get married he’ll be your brother too.” Megumi asks, serious.

“Yes please! Please, please, please!” Akio pleads.

“Get married tomorrow!” Mirai squeals.

“I’ll ask him tomorrow, how about that?” Megumi smirks.

“Deal.” Akio says, nodding.

The next time Megumi came over for dinner, three days later, Yuuji was wearing the gold ring.

#submission #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #family formations extras #dad!gojo

[laurbiek]

HEY! If you're still taking requests, could you write something with tipsy Andrew and him being all amused and clingy and handsy with his lover? 🥺🥺

do you guys know the feeling when its 11:30 on a Sunday and you have class tomorrow morning but your suddenly inspired to start writing again after like 9 months so you have to start immediately even though you should maybe go to bed or study for any of the tests you have this week

anyway here's wonderwall

Now that it was socially acceptable to be out in public again, Andy frequented local bars and pubs with his friends. He would go out with Alex, meet his brother for drinks, sometimes even invite Aisling out into the country to hang out for the night. Sometimes you joined him, sometimes you didn't.

He liked it better when you joined them, getting to watch you relax and laugh at some dumb joke. Watching your blush get deeper and deeper, and peeling off a jacket or a sweater as the heat of the alcohol consumed you.

Occasionally you two would split something more illicit, something rolled or baked that Andrew's brother would obtain for him. Your whole party laughing together at the fire pit in your backyard, talking about ordering food but ever actually doing it.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Work was getting busy, and you felt too tired for a night out, even if it was just a local pub in the small hamlet you two chose to live in. You knew you were just too wired up, too stressed to meet friends without passing the bad feelings on, without snapping at someone or getting sad-drunk and killing the vibe. So you opted to stay home, watching some bad TV with a large glass of wine, and throwing tennis balls around the house for Elwood to retrieve.

Externally, Andrew didn't mind. He knew everyone needed 'me time', he knew he would have fun anyway. He knew he didn't want to be the kind of couple that were inseparable, that cant exist without the other person, like two stars that orbit each other and ignore the rest.

But sometimes it feels impossible to talk about anything else, sometimes he felt the need to tattoo your name on his forehead just to be able to bring you up in conversation. Love is almost a form of obsession, and for Andrew it can be occasionally difficult to hide.

Especially after a pint or two, and some glasses of whisky if he's being honest.

Andrew reached into his pocket for his keys, feeling around for the sharp metal he hoped and prayed he remembered to bring that night. He heard a slightly more sober Alex lock his car behind him, deciding that he could spend the night in one of the guest rooms instead of slugging it back to Dublin at one in the morning. He finally shoves the key into the lock, tuning it in a way so domestic and familiar it makes his heart leap.

The two trudge into the warm house, and toe their shoes off in the hallway before stomping into the living room with heavy, reckless feet. You tilt your head back on the sectional armrest, seeing them coming closer upside down.

"Hey guys, have enough fun?" you just, Alex flopping down on the other side of the couch, and Andrew leaning down farther than usual to peck you on the lips.

"It was grand love, lots of mischief made", He walks around, sitting in between his fried and his lover, looking up to see some reality TV nonsense playing with the captions on. He turns his body towards yours, leaning his head on his arm and staring down at you like you hung the stars, "I missed you though"

"Andy you were ten minutes away, I don't know how you managed to miss me"

He grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer, almost in his lap. His large hands feel slightly cold as they hold your skin under the borrowed t-shirt you wore to relax in that night. He leans up to kiss your neck, and his facial hair, as always, tickles slightly.

"You must have some kind of spell on me, something sinister and ugly to keep me enamored" he says, voice muffled by your body.

You roll your eyes at Alex, who is barely paying attention to his very whipped friend, instead leaning towards the coffee table to pick at the snacks you brought out for yourself. You share a look of agreement, silently saying 'this guy is a fool'. You grab Andrew's face and pull it up to make eye contact with yourself,

"Yeah I couldn't possibly get this ring without outside help", you say. Andrew makes a light laugh at that, simply breathing out and smiling. You notice his eyes starting to flutter a bit more, obviously getting tired. You pull away from Andrew and get yourself up, "Ok Loverboy, its time for bed, Alex you know where everything is help yourself", he nods and gives a thumbs up as a response, wrist deep in a bag of Cheese and Onion Taytos.

You grab Andrew's hand and pull on it, urging him to get his ass to bed. He groans slightly as he rises, jokingly adding an "Ok mistress" as he grabs your hand back and follows you up the stairs.

Once you both reach your shared bedroom, Andrew sits on the bed and takes his socks off, forgetting what he wanted to do next. He watches as Elwood does his little circles in his dog bed, he thinks that humans should be able to do something similar. You pop out of the attached bathroom, having washed your face and tied your hair up. Andrew reaches his arms out like a child towards you, silently asking for some physical contact. You slip in between them, holding his head against your chest and placing a kiss on top of it. His hands wrap around you tightly. He wishes he could've stayed here all night. You pull away and he makes a complaining groan,

"Calm down we can cuddle all night, let me help you with your hair."

You kneel behind his seated form, becoming just tall enough to gather his hair into a uniform pony and secure it away so he doesn't mess it up during the night. He thoroughly enjoys the feeling of your fingers in his hair, he recalls the feeling of you pulling it tighter, in a different context of course. He smiles slightly at the memory. You kiss the top of his head again, letting him know you were done.

Against his desires, he plods into the bathroom to brush his teeth, accident leaving the balled up socks from earlier on the counter. He, as quickly as he can, puts on something more comfortable, with way fewer buttons, and dramatically flops into bed.

You lay facing each other, first just holding hands, but as the minutes progress he pulls you closer and closer until your legs are wrapped around his hips and his arms are keeping you there, your foreheads are touching. You couldn't possibly be closer if you tried.

"What if we were conjoined and had to be like this forever"

"Andrew I cannot do this right now go to sleep"

"No seriously what if?!"

After a few more tipsy comments from Andrew, and lightly chastising him for his wandering hands, you finally turn over. If he is known for anything other than music, it should be his ability to be the big spoon. He completely envelops you, and you've never felt safer.

His hands wander under your shirt, not in a sexual way, but in a familiar one. He just wants to feel close to you, feel skin on skin like a baby looking for comfort. You can feel his nose poking into the back of your neck, and you're glad his feet are so far away because you just know they're cold.

You relish in the feeling of his touch, how in his most vulnerable and uncaring moments the most he ever wants to do is feel your warmth, know that you're there.

The last thing he remembers is the smell of your shampoo before he falls into sleep.

#hozier x reader #hozier fanfic #hozier #hozier imagine #andrew hozier byrne #I have an organic chemistry test this week

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 1

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

there's a new guy in town, and he's pretty damn cute. too bad he hates your brother, though.

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, tbh? mean leon, cliches, minor religious/christian themes, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

3037 words

song rec: "kutsuro gish" by hiroshi takaki

pt. 2

what's this? the blossoming of a series? yes, yes it is! very self-indulgent. i love tropes like this so much. enjoy some mean leon content and a sweet enemies-to-lovers concept, little dove :]

Life in Everglade is... interesting, to say the least. Actually, it was extremely cliché here. Every Sunday and Wednesday, people would go to church, every Friday night was a football game, and the rest of the days were just busy nonsense. The people here rarely ever leave town, and people never really come in. It's been like this for years.

Until recently.

This fall, a handful of strangers tumbled into the little town of Everglade, proud home of the Everglade Ravens. Lucky for me, they even moved in across the street.

From my little window nook, I watch a dingy U-Haul pull up into the driveway across the street, and out comes four people. The first is a man that looks to be in his mid forties, dressed in khakis and a navy polo. Next is a little girl, who looks like a middle schooler. She's got a long skirt on and a flannel sweater, coloured with warm red and browns. After her is what I assume is an elder sister, but she doesn't look much older than the little one.. She's dressed in messy, paint-stained jeans, a black tank-top, and a pink windbreaker jacket to top it all off. She's the only brunette one out of the blonde family so far.

Then comes out the son.

Dragging himself out of the passenger seat was the most dashing boy I've ever seen. The smile he gives his sisters make my heart race—it honestly put Danny Zuko's smile to shame, and I love Grease! His blonde hair is parted to the side, hiding his eyes a bit. He's dressed up in blue jeans that grip around his thighs perfectly, a black t-shirt, and a navy-blue bomber jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms. From my spot at the window, I couldn't help but ogle. The mystery family all gathered around the front door of their new home to get a good look of the inside, and I couldn't help but keep my attention on the only son of the family. I noticed how their was no mother to be seen...

"Hey, thumper," a voice calls out from the door of my room. I tear my eyes away from the window to see my father, leaning against the frame of my door with his arms crossed. "He's been calling me thumper ever since I was little, seeing as how I stomp my foot when I laugh.

"Hey, pops! What's up?" I cock my head to the side questioningly.

"Mom's done with dinner. Meet ya downstairs, or are you gunna keep 'practicin''?" He smirks teasingly, looking at my unused oboe on the foot of my bed. I blush, rolling my eyes.

"I'll be down there... and I was practicing, thank you very much!" I huff. Dad just laughs at me and waves his hand, mumbling about how he'll see me at the dinner table. With that, I get up to collect myself. I take a quick look out the window one more time just to see if the boy next door was still outside, but the front door was shut tight.

I stumble down the stairs, my bunny slippers skidding down the steps as the smell of baked chicken filled my nostrils. Upon entering the dining room, I see my dad at the head of the table accompanied by my mom and my older brother, Damien, who sighs at the sight of me.

"Finally, you're here," Damien huffs. "Can you sit down now? I'm fuckin' hungry," he stretches his hand out to me so I can sit down and say grace with everyone. My dad throws a pen from his breast-pocket at my dumb brother, telling him to watch his language.

I sit at the other end across from Damien to avoid saying grace with him, holding hands instead with Mom and Dad with my head bowed down.

"Ahem... Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen," my mother says. Immediately after the prayer, Damien scarfs down the first piece of chicken he can get his hands on. I pick at some au gratin while my parents converse and scold Dami for being such a disgusting eater. I clear my throat to catch my parents' attention when they grow silent.

"So... uhm... There's new people across the street. Do you maybe... know about them?" I ask, giving my parents side glances. Mom shakes her head as a no, and before Dad can say anything, Damien coughs up a response.

"That punk Leon's the ace player from Greensmell's soccer team!" My older brother snorts, seemingly a bit angry.

So his name's Leon...

What Damien meant to say was Greenvale, which is a town over. They're probably Everglade High School's biggest rival in ever aspect—academics, sports, and even parties (apparently, I wouldn't know). The only thing I can confidently say they're bad at is marching. Their band is horrendous.

"Seriously?" I cringe at the information. "What are they doing here...?" I wonder under my breath.

"Probably got so embarrassed we beat 'em at state champ this year, the wimp probably got kicked out and thrown into Everglade!" Damien shouts with a mouthful of rice. I cringe at the sight, looking back down at my untouched au gratin.

"Cool, cool..." I mumble. "Uh... can I be excused? M'not really hungry," I ask Dad. He nods, going back to his food. Wordlessly, I take my plate to the kitchen to clean it up. As I wash dishes, I stare out the window blankly, eyes set on the house across the street. No one was out still.

I decide it's best to just go to bed after washing dishes, putting my oboe back in its case and setting it next to my backpack. I flop into my bed, part of me hoping to see this Leon guy again soon...

I hate gossip.

I can never tell if people are talking about me, the people around me, or to me. As I walk the halls of Everglade High School, oboe and trumpet cases held tight in my hands, I hear the little murmurs of the cliques of the school. Punks mumbling, girl's that try too hard to look like Sandra Dee whispering behind their palms, and some jocks laughing loudly about Leon.

Wait, Leon?

My converse-clad feet are walking through the hall faster now. As I bump past a bunch of students, I speed my way down to the lunch room, needing to see my friends as soon as possible. Luckily, one of them sticks out like a sore thumb today. Sporting a red blazer, blue flannel tennis skirt, and black socks, I see Samantha Grey in all her glory sitting on top of our usual table, talking to a few of our little group. I stomp up to her, the charms on my instrument cases clinking softly with each step.

"Sammy!" I whisper-yell. Her brown eyes immediately look over to my position in front of her, her black hair swaying.

"Hey, sweet pea~!" She coos happily, a big smile painting her face as she gets down from the tabletop to give me a hug. "Glad you aren't too late. Me 'n' the girls were just talkin' about the new hunk in town," she pinches my cheek before helping me set my cases down on the table. I sit next to her, getting settled.

"Hunk? What's this about?" I stare, acting like I didn't know who they were chittering about. Across from Sammy and me is Lucy Brail and Patti James, who I've known since diapers along with Samantha. Lucy is the first to speak up, clearly excited to talk about Leon.

"This stud just moved into town yesterday! Apparently, he's got two little sisters at the middle school, 'n all the boys here have been howlin' about how he probably got kicked outta the Greenvale soccer team after losing nationals this year!" She says with a grin that reaches her ears. My eyebrows knit together at the information that I had heard the night before.

"You call almost every meathead here a stud, Lucy," I chuckle. She gives me a weird look before scoffing.

"This one's different, sweet pea," Sammy jabs me in the side softly, and I yelp. "He's got this look in his eyes that just scream at me like he wants me!" She sighs dreamily.

"Are you sure it wasn't his pecs you were lookin' at?" I click my tongue. Another jab to the side, and it hurts a little more than the last. I roll my eyes.

"Whatever, I'm sure he's just like the oth-"

"Oh! Oh!! There he is, sweet pea, look!" Sammy grabs me by the jaw to turn my sights to the new guy.

There he is...

Across the lunch hall is Leon, dressed all pretty in a forest green letterman jacket with his initials on the right bicep. There's a few patches from some bands he likes and a big ole "11" on the back of it with "Greenvale" above it. He's still in tight jeans, but they're black this time, as well as his t-shirt beneath the well-worn coat.

"He's got some nerve wearin' that here," Patti mutters. We all hum in agreement as we watch him saunter over to the lunch line to get a carton of strawberry milk.

"Ain't he just a dream~?" Sammy breathes out. Lucy's got this blush that could be seen from Mars, and I swear that Patti's mouth is gunna get dry with how much she's drooling. My gaze is trained on the back of Leon's head, looking at how well-trimmed his hair is.

"He's... he is pretty cute," I mumble, jaw hurting a bit with how tight my best friend was gripping onto it. I hear her giggle.

"Don't get sweet on him now, thumper!" She reminds me, using that silly nickname. “God knows your brother would tear you a new one if he found out you wanted to get a piece of Leon Scott Kennedy," she lets go of my jaw, and I roll my eyes.

"M'not sweet on anyone, Sam," I grumble. Lucy giggles, twirling a strand of her blonde curls in her fingers.

"Isn't he right next to your house, (y/n)?" She asks me. I nod.

"Yeah, actually... How did you know?"

"Oh, sweet pea?! Please, please, please tell me you gotta good view of him from your room! If so, I'm comin' over every weekend!!!" Samantha begs, shaking me by the shoulder.

"H-hey, quit it! I dunno if he's gunna be upstairs or not, and that's c-creepy!" I gasp as she shook me. Lucy and Patti laugh as I get thrashed around. From the corner of my eye, I see Leon get closer. He's got a mean look in his eyes, like he's ready to bite someone if they get near him.

I guess he's trying to protect his peace...

The girls grow silent as he walks past our table, not showing any mind to how noisy we are. They all watch Leon like dogs to a bone when he scoots past us, tossing his milk carton in the air like he hasn't a single worry in the world. When he's gone, it's like we can all breathe again.

"Oh lord, he even smells good," Patti fans herself, a blush covering up her little freckles. Sammy grins in agreement, clearly happy that she got to see the new guy so close. I stick my tongue out in disgust.

“You guys are so gross…”

“Everyone, please welcome our new student,” Mrs. Bradshaw, the advanced chemistry teacher here at Everglade High, drones, motioning her hand to Leon near the back of the class.

And also next to me.

The blonde boy stands up, puffing up his chest a little.

“Name’s Leon Kennedy. Nice to meet you,” he says curtly before sitting right back down. Everyone’s giving him looks ranging from “I wanna rip his throat out” to “I want to kiss him behind the bleachers”, and it’s clear that he doesn’t care about it either. Mrs. Bradshaw clears her throat to stop annoying students from whispering.

“Now, let’s get started on our calorimetry unit. To begin…” The old hag’s words begin to go process in my brain as I get to writing notes. At times, I look at Leon from the corner of my eyes.

He’s writing on a piece of paper instead of a notebook, his blue ballpoint pen scraping against the surface as he messily jots down his notes. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he actually cares about his education! I can see Leon’s tongue poking out between his plump lips, and I can’t help but stare a little. He doesn’t seem to notice me, until he looks up to check the blackboard up front.

Leon’s blue eyes set their sights on me, locking with mine. Quickly, I avert my gaze back to my notebook, trying my best to act like I was still writing notes. I hear him laugh a little next to me, but I make no effort to speak up.

When the class ends, and the bell for the next period rings, I gather my things to head off to the band room. Backpack slugged over my shoulders, I’m getting ready to pick up my trumpet and oboe case before someone else grabs of for me. Big, veiny hands take the cases by the leather handle, lifting it before my eyes. I look up to see Leon with a devilish smile.

“Caught you staring at me. Mind if I walk with you?” He says confidently. I’m a bit taken aback by his attitude, but I nod nonetheless. I’ve never really had a boy offer to walk me to class other than Damien…

“I can hold my-“

“Nah, don’t worry bout it. I carry my sister’s euphonium all the time,” he chuckles, his shoulders shaking a little as he does. I blush, not expecting him to even know what a euphonium is. So, he’s cute AND he knows the difference between a tuba and a euphonium..

“Are you sure? I-I mean, I don’t want it to be a hass-“

“Don’t worrrrryy,” he exaggerates. “Where are you headed? This is my study hall period, so I got time,” he grins.

“Uh… the band room. A-and thanks,” I tell him, nervously fiddling with my fingers. We walk out of the science lab together, me trailing slightly behind him as we walk.

“So, I’m guessing you and your little posse this morning was talking about me?” He asks, and I feel the blood rush up to my face.

Samantha and her big ole mouth…!

“Y-yeah…” I stammer, unsure of what to say. “Sorry about that… It’s just… we never really have any newcomers here, so the girls were just excited,” I bite my lip. I can feel the stares of people around us in the halls. Whether it’s out of jealousy towards me or hate for him, I’ve no clue.

“I see,” Leon hums. “It was kinda funny, so don’t apologize.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. His fingers are gripping the handle of my cases tight enough to make his veins bulge a little, and I can’t help but stare. After our small talk, it’s quiet, and when we make it to the band room, we stop next to the door so he can give me back my things. As Leon hands over my instruments, footsteps thunder toward our position.

“You know, I thought it was just some sick joke hearing about my lil sister hangin’ around you, but I see that the rumours are true,” Damien growls, walking towards Leon and me slowly with his hands in the pockets of his black letterman. The blonde boy in front of me is still holding my oboe case as he looks at my older brother with an unamused stare.

“Well, had I known she was related to you, I would have never offered to carry her junk,” the ace smiled. I felt my heart drop at his words.

And then it felt like the world came crashing down on me.

Like it was fire, Leon let go of my oboe case, and it clatters against the floor. He’s staring my brother dead in the eyes as he does so, and I can feel tears swell in my eyes. I watch as my reeds, feather, and parts of the oboe pop out of the hard case, scraping against the floors of the hall.

“N-no!!” I yelp, unable to hold back my tears as I drop to my knees to gather the parts. A key or two had bent, and a few corks were damaged. I hear Damien shout at Leon, slamming his body into a locker. I don’t understand what they’re yelling about, too busy trying to pick up the bits of my instrument. More voices erupt, and I assume they’re people trying to pull my brother off of Leon Kenne-dick. My feather gets swept away amidst the commotion. When everything but that is successfully stuffed back into my case, I snap my head around to glare at the ace soccer player behind glossy eyes.

“You’re fuckin’ paying for this, you piece of shit!” Damien screams, thrashing against some teachers who dragged him away from the scene. Leon’s being escorted away as well, not giving me a chance to say anything. I’m left alone in the hall with my broken oboe before Samantha scurries out.

“Sweet pea! We heard all the ruckus, but Mr. Kay said it wasn’t safe for us to be out, and—oh, sugar…” she gasps lightly, crouching down next to me. The ravenette looks down at my open case, seeing the broken and bent keys and chipped corks. “Who did this…?” She asked me gently, setting her chin on my shoulder.

“Leon…” I hiccup, tears falling. The silence is heavy when I tell her this, and I know that Sammy can only see red. Without a word, she wipes my tears with her thumb before helping me into the band room.

I’m starting to regret wanting to see him again.

woohoo! chapitre un, fini :] i know it’s a bit lacking, but it’s just the beginning. hope you enjoyed! pt. 2 here!

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil/biohazard #biohazard #angst #leon kennedy angst #>>high school sweethearts: LSK #leon kennedy x reader angst #leon kennedy x reader au #high school au #slowburn

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

*　　 　　✦　　　.

Pilot!

Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.

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It was a usual lovely Sunday night, you stepped out of the shower after carefully washing yourself with the most luxurious products money could by, the sage burning on top of the marble sink is enticing all your senses into pure relaxation.

You stepped out of the shower to your cozy heated floors and quickly threw on your fluffy bathrobe, god forbid your body ever threatens to even shiver. Your gorgeous figure is seen walking to your sink to plug in your airwrap so you could dry your Fresh deep conditioned hair so you could prep your hair for work tomorrow.

You were about to turn on your hair dryer when you heard a easily recognizable motorcycle exhaust pipe roar near your street, you chuckled to your self seems like some neighbor of yours managed to get a Harley Road glide cvo for themselves. You cringe at yourself after recognizing some work vehicles on your day off. After visibly shaking your head , your hands seem to newly glide towards the dyson but unfortunately a knock on your door seems to disrupt your short lived peace.

You slip on some Sanrio themed slippers and head to the door, thinking that maybe it’s your new neighbor, Alyssa; a mid aged single mom that always seemed to be missing a cup of sugar or a stick of butter to which you always glad fully gave some to.

But to your surprise, when you open the door your gaze is set upon a black suit with a gray dress shirt underneath, your nose is immediately hit with the smell of a jean Paul Gaultier perfume as the notes of bergamot , orange and amber hit your nose, you painfully raise your head to meet the eyes of the owner of the eccentric aura that is invading your foyer.

His eyes are cold and dead;hidden behind some luscious white lashes. His skin white as a ghost you wouldn’t want to approach in your worst nightmare , as your vision started to descend you crossed his tall nose bridged and visually visited his plump pink lips. Naturally this is where you would stop staring but you couldn’t help but notice how beautifully your bossess sharp jawline decorated his Addams apple.

There were few times you stood this close to him,then you realized. He was at your house,as reality set in you took a step back as fear slowly flooded your system, but for the sake of your job you couldn’t show it; so you quickly put on your resting bitch face and crossed your arms.

You sigh.

-“Where’s your god mother?”- you ask referring to where’s his body guard. He points his head to the motorcycle parked behind the 2024 BMW 7 series sedan. Geto always trailed behind your boss vehicle like a shadow; ironic considering the roar the motorcycles emits is similar to that of a lions.

After returning his gaze to you he trails his eyes from the crown of your head to your freshly manicured toes while lifting the corner of his lips.

-“The more important question is, did you get all dolled up, so pretty, just for me?”- He asked with a smug expression adorning his face.

When you started the job as his secretary, you were freshly graduated from business school. Plenty of companies were desperate to have you as their employee after some internships. But you were set on owning your own company that was until one morning on your door arrived a fruit basket adorned with a letter made out of thick and soft boujee ass paper, all that was written on it was the address of the restaurant of the city and a time stamp. You decided to go out of pure curiosity. As soon as you arrived you were led to a private room that’s where you met the curious man that’s currently crouching under your door frame.

As you sat down and talked , he talked about his business, all was well until he mentioned his business was humbly the proud owner of the tittle of the biggest drug exporter to south east Asia.

You did what any rational person would do , calmly get up and book it to the door but before you could reach your destiny , your now boss clicked his fingers and a pair of gorillas came and grabbed you by your arms and forced you to sit down.

Gojo smiled cynically while laying down your 2 options.

1.You ratting your meeting out to the feds and having your pretty little pink tongue off.

2.Accepting the job offer to be his secretary earning a ridiculously high salary , health care , pension anything you could think of.

You decided for the latter.

Getting back to reality;you had to figure out what to do with the sexy giant at your door.

-“Gojo you know my boundaries, no out of office meetings and no Gore-y things in front of me.Cmon dude you’re better than this. Plus how did you even find me I’ve moved like twice in the last 2 years.”- you muttered looking at his serious face.

After finishing your dialogue you couldn’t help but notice a hint of uneasiness, he couldn’t be mad at you for reminding him your boundaries, right? You know him, you know him like the palm of your hand, or so you thought.

-“I have my ways. Aren’t you going to let me in? You hiding something?”- He says leaning forward scoping your house out.

-“Um, fuck , mean yeah sure go ahead.”- You responded moving to the side letting his breeze by you.

His tall figure literally invaded you apartment, he rested his hands in his pockets as he examined your living space, after memorizing you living room he sat down on your puffy jade sofa.

-“So this is what they call a woman’s touch huh, I’ll be brief, I need you to take your little bathrobe off and put on some decent clothes and pack your little passport and follow me to the car.We’re going to Shanghai baby ,I’ll explain later.”-He ordered wishing you would run to obey his every command

You cackled in disbelief. Truth be told you were scared of the business you were in ,that’s why to protect yourself you set up a rule that you wouldn’t work outside of an office or a meeting room. For the moment you were only used to having reunions with new money idiots who wanted to get even richer fast. You knew nothing good waited for you in Shanghai.

You weren’t afraid to joke around him and push his buttons, he made it clear he needed you, his business flourished the minute you stepped in, you organized his accounting’s in many banks over seas , you created plenty of paper companies to launder his money , you charmed his business associates into shady business and secured international funding. He could never dream of hurting you. Well, not in a way you wouldn’t like of course.

-“I think you’re tripping balls man, no fucking way.Why would I ever do that?”-You striked back as you violently shake your head.

He grinned at the way you thought you could say no to him, he also grinned at the sight of your robe becoming loose.

-“I’ll pay you triple your hourly wage , 5 personal staff , 2 bullet proof trucks for the duration of the trip and all the arrangements paid by me of course. And since I’m feeling nice I’ll even throw in a shopping spree so you don’t have to worry that cute head of yours on packing clothes.”- He smiled being charmed by his own charisma.

You scrunched your eyebrows and turned around having your hair flip behind you.

-“Call Geto in to help me with his bags.”

-“Yes, mam.”

Gojo’s ears glowed red after realizing he could virtually get you to do anything to satiate his desires.

You had no idea about what’s about to come.

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A/n: hello, I literally started writing this frantically at 12 am knowing I had class from how inspired I was , I plan this to be a full story ig idk how to describe itanyways , suggestions or request accepted!! Comments are appreciated!!!😘

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo imagine #jjk smut #jjk fluff #mafia gojo #jjk mafia #smart business school reader #idk really #idk what tags to use #idk how to tag this #dark romance #mafia romance #geto suguru #if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt

[moonsaver]

hello! i'm here to drop some thoughts that have plagued my mind for quite a while now, idk if you can answer it or not but if you can't then it's fine. however if you can, i would be delighted (your writings are so good, ty for keeping my delulu brain well fed ❤️)

ok, have you considered abt yan!Sunday x yan!reader? bonus point if yan!reader is like some kind of servant or personal assistant etc. think about this, yan!reader, so eager to do anything to please Sunday, they are willing to do anything and *everything*, even ready to shed some blood or partake in some of the...more dirty works, as long as the rewards are praises being cooed out by Sunday or Sunday's hand patting their head. yan!reader, although knowing they are nothing but a mere puppet that Sunday could play with, relinquish themselves as they voluntarily become a nice little plaything, to be completely at Sunday mercy.

on Sunday side, he would definitely enjoy seeing yan!reader being so submissive and obedient, like a trusty and loyal guard dog. he could mold them however he liked and they would be so fast to obey without second thoughts, he could assign them a mission and they would finish it as soon as possible. submissive, compliant, obedient, these traits are what Sunday seeking for an assistant, it gave him a sense of power and dominance.

in public, everybody only sees Mister Sunday and his assistant. in the privacy of Sunday's office, yan!reader kneeled in front of Sunday, their face rubbed in between Sunday's lap as they begged for compliments for yet, another successful mission. Sunday only chuckled as he cooing out praises, his hand stroked their hair as if they are nothing more than a lap dog. that's okay though, judging on how yan!reader was so willing to do anything for their beloved, they would call themselves 'a lap dog', too.

Sunday's part was kind of short since i didn't have a grasp of his personality yet but i hope that this brainrot would plague your mind as much as it was plaguing mine. i'll come back with more brainrot, i assure you! until next time, ta-ta.

Hello anon! Please do drop by any thoughts you have. I like reading these. I like having a little peek into your brains' click clacks

As for Yan!sunday x yan!reader, I've had maybe.. 2 or so requests? It's not the first time I've come across the idea, no worries.

As for the idea itself.. to be honest, it just never stuck with me. In my brutal honesty I can't quite imagine it as anything else but like.. a really unhealthy but devoted relationship. Yanderes are all about the horror of desperation for me, and a lot of other factors. But i think I can see the vision with the desperate yan!reader.

---

Yan!sunday i imagine is actually quite fervently in love. But this spin on his character is well within bounds. Someone who ends up actually using another obsessive character, aka yan!reader as their errand-runner, and have them do all the dirty work he would usually have to get his hands stained for. I imagine at first he's disturbed, but finds some consensus with yan!reader, and "entertains" their whims. He gives them some affection, and has them running out like a headless chicken doing the work assigned.

At some point, both of you are stained endlessly with sins, and blood does not wash from your skin. Both of you are bound to each other by secrets too messy and scandalous to ever burden someone else with. Both of you are akin to a cursed keeper, lips locked with secrets, and somewhere along the lines, Yan!sunday finds himself spouting devoted nonsense into yours. Both of you may as well fall into this neverending spiral of sins, and damn those who dared to stain his Family, and the world he works so hard to protect.

If anything, the loneliness of the sins seeping into his bones is relinquished by you. You and your weak smile and your obsessive eyes, your chapped lips and cracked nails with dry blood in the valley of your nailbed.

In the end, yan!sunday ends up loving you, or at least, obsessing over you, because now you're the only person who understands. Who knows. And you've seen the ugliest crooks of his halo and the dead secrets Penacony hides, and you love him anyway. It's a neverending dance for sinners who may never see the light of redemption soon. The feast is over and the curtain's call comes, and his wings are stained with your blood, and your lips are stained with his sin. Who, in the end, pays the price?

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #yandere sunday x you #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #hsr sunday x you #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x reader #yandere hsr x you #yandere hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

[doumadono]

Sinful Sunday Request, your writing is amazing😊!!!! Just thinking about Sekido with a fem! S/o, who has a personality that is his complete opposite. Gentle, caring, patient, the whole nine yards. At least, that is what the other clones see. In the bedroom though? She is an absolute dominating beast who is not afraid to hurt Sekido (we all know this man is a huge masochist so it works very well for him). She is not afraid to make him bleed, to mark him completely to the point where even his regeneration is slowing down, he's a complete mess, and he knows that she doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon, not that he's complaining......... he was being a brat anyways so this is very well deserved. What can he say? The thought of such punishments excite him.

Bonus if she can all but rival his strength. A woman who is patient with him, but not afraid to hurt him and toss him around? Yes please.

Warnings: face slapping, dom-sub, mentions of blood

SINFUL SUNDAY

Nestled near the outskirts of an ancient village, surrounded by the whispers of rustling leaves and the distant hum of nature, was a quaint hut that Sekido and his fellow clones called home. This secluded spot provided a semblance of solace from the demands of their training and the prying eyes of others.

Living amidst these otherworldly beings tested the boundaries of your understanding and patience on daily basis.

That evening, you found yourself seated in the corner, desperately trying to mend a tear in your worn-out cloak. The room was charged with tension as the clones became increasingly aggressive, locked in a heated argument about the latest mission assigned to Hantengu by Lord Muzan.

Urogi scowled, vehemently declaring, "This mission was a suicide run! Lord Muzan was testing us, and I wouldn't fall for it!"

Karaku, equally enraged, retorted, "You were just a coward, 'Rogi. We needed to prove ourselves. I wouldn't back down from any challenge, khe-khe!"

Their voices clashed, filling the room with a palpable sense of discord. Aizetsu attempted to mediate, saying, "All of you, calm down! We needed a strategy, not a shouting match. Let's think this through. Your argument is making me so sad."

Sekido scoffed, "Strategy, eh? We should've just charged in and been done with it, for fuck's sake. None of this overthinking nonsense!"

You, realizing that your attempts at sewing were futile amidst the chaos, decided to interject. "Hey, could you all just take a breather and figure this out calmly? You were on the same team, after all?"

Urogi shot you an annoyed glance. "Stay out of this, human. This was none of your business."

Sekido's face contorted with anger as he unleashed a torrent of furious words at Urogi, who had spoken to you in a disrespectful manner. "What the hell do you think you're doing, talking to her like that? Have some damn respect!"

You, attempting to maintain composure, interjected, "Hey, guys, let's calm down. There's no need for this argument."

Ignoring your attempt to defuse the situation, Urogi shot back at Sekido, "Mind your own business, Sekido! I can talk to this bitch however I want."

Sekido, now incensed, raised his voice even louder, "No one talks to her like that, you idiot, but me! She's fucking mine. Show some decency!"

You stepped in again, blinking as you heard Sekido's words. "Excuse me?! Let's just stop this shit, now."

Your attempts at diplomacy fell on deaf ears, and soon, Sekido was screaming at you, his frustration reaching a boiling point. The room echoed with the intensity of their argument, leaving you caught in the crossfire of a heated confrontation that seemed to have no end in sight. Sighing, you acknowledged that your sewing project would have to wait as you couldn't focus anymore.

The clones continued their heated debate, each voice contributing to the chaotic symphony of dissent.

Eventually, Sekido, with a brooding expression, retreated to his bedroom, the door closing firmly behind him.

As time passed, the rest of the clones dispersed to their own rooms, seeking solace in the privacy of their thoughts. The echoes of the confrontation still resonated, leaving a palpable sense of unease in the air.

After a moment, when the corridors had cleared, you cautiously made your way to Sekido's door. There was a tentative knock, and then you entered, finding him sitting on his futon.

As you entered the dimly lit bedroom, the atmosphere shifted. The facade of the caring and patient partner you portrayed around his counterparts transformed into a subtle anticipation that hung in the air.

Sekido, though accustomed to the dichotomy, felt a heightened sense of awareness.

The moment the door closed behind you, the gentle exterior gave way to a commanding presence. "Strip," you commanded, your voice echoing in the confined space. The flicker of candles cast dancing shadows across the room.

Sekido, though stoic, followed your directive without protest, in silence. He turned to you, a question forming on his lips, but you silenced him with a single, demanding look.

The air thickened with anticipation as you approached, your movements deliberate and purposeful as you took off your attire, letting it fall to the ground. It was a side of you that Sekido both feared and craved.

"Get on your knees," you commanded, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

The red-eyed deamon, though initially taken aback, complied without hesitation, his eyes locking onto yours.

You reached the small closet where you stored your belongings as Sekido watched, silently awaiting your next move. You retrieved the leather whip from its place. Upon returning to Sekido, you admonished him, "You've behaved poorly today, speaking to me disrespectfully in the presence of your peers."

Slap! A swift crack echoed through the air as the leather whip struck his left shoulder, leaving a small cut that began to seep blood.

Sekido's expression contorted into a disapproving frown. "Do you believe that striking me with this implement will leave any impact, woman? You're nothing more than a weakling, after all."

Slap! The whip found its mark on his right shoulder, and this time the impact carried more strength and calculation.

"Conduct yourself and communicate with me in a manner befitting, or I won't be as lenient next time!" You warned. Then you walked up to Sekido and knelt in fron of him, taking his cock in your hand. "Already hard I see," you commented. "You like being my bitch, don't you?"

"Yes, mistress," the demon replied truthfully; his cock growing even harder as you held it in the palm of your hand.

"I can tell," you said as you wrapped your fingers round his dick and gave it a loving squeeze.

Sekido let out a pathetic whimper. He experienced a profound sense of discomfort – a demon subjected to degradation at the hands of a mere human! Despite his intense aversion to the situation, there existed an unsettling pleasure in the sensation.

"On the futn," you ordered, and Sekido obeyed.

After he reclined, you knelt beside him, taking his dick in your hand and gently stroking it. "I expect an apology for today," you asserted.

Reluctantly, Sekido offered his apology.

You released your grip, cradling his erect dick in the palm of your hand. In a sudden, assertive motion, your other hand ascended and descended sharply, delivering a resounding slap to his swollen shaft.

"FUCK!" Sekido whined. "Oh, you fucking…" he snorted, but you didn't let him finish the sentence.

Your fingers delivered another resounding smack onto Sekido's dick. Twice more, you raised your hand, and twice more, the forceful impact reverberated on the engorged flesh. The vivid, searing pain radiating through his shaft surged intensely through his entire body.

"Fuck! I'm… Sorry!" He raised his voice.

"You forgot something."

"I'm sorry, mistress!"

"Good boy." You resumed the gentle caress of his dick, and before long, your lips enveloped the erect shaft, engaging in an intense and fervent act of oral pleasure while helping yourself with one hand caressing his heavy balls.

Sekido emitted low, guttural grunts, a primal resonance emanating from deep within his chest, as he attempted to slip a hand into your hair.

With a resounding pop, you withdrew, slapping his dick once more. "Don't you dare lay a finger on me, brat," you declared.

He grunted unhappily but reluctantly withdrew his hands.

Continuing to pleasure his dick with your mouth, you skillfully glided the tip of your tongue beneath the prominent vein along his shaft, eliciting a response as his cock began to twitch. It was only at this moment that you straddled him, effortlessly guiding his firm dick into your cunny.

You set a brisk rhythm, energetically riding him with a continuous up-and-down motion, occasionally delivering a cheeky slap to his face. "You're quite the brat, Sekido," you remarked, intensifying the pace. "Disregarding your girlfriend in front of others. How pathetic."

His gaze was fixed on the rhythmic bounce of your breasts as you moved along his shaft; the sight of you astride him, skillfully riding, was making his dick throb even harder. "I fucking apologized, woman."

You grinned, delivering a firmer slap to his face. "It doesn't change the fact that you behaved like the real brat you are."

As he approached the brink of orgasm, you teasingly withdrew his dick almost entirely from your pussy, leaving just the tip nestled in the warmth. "Uh-uh, you won't climax until I permit it."

Sekido let out a loud curse in response. "Fuck, darling!"

You firmly gripped his shaft, squeezing it hard; it drew a pained moan from his lips. "I explicitly told you to abandon this demeanor, didn't I?" you reminded.

The demon merely nodded in acknowledgment.

You skillfully teased him in that manner for a solid half-hour. By that point, your pussy was swollen, and your clitoris so sensitized that each movement of your hips, urging his dick deeper within you, collided with your moans of pleasure and Sekido's guttural groans.

Eventually, you dismounted, lying on your back and parting your legs. "Fuck me and make me cum, and maybe, just maybe, I'll contemplate forgiving your behaviour."

Sekido pressed your legs apart with the leverage of his knee, swiftly pushing himself back into you, establishing a vigorous and unyielding tempo. The tip of his dick grazed your cervix with each forceful thrust. Before long, guttural grunts emanated from him, particularly accentuated when your sharp nails raked down his back, leaving behind a trail of bloody marks.

In no time, he released deep within your pussy; the runny, warm cum cascading through your velvety walls, accompanied by Sekido's primal growls reminiscent of a wild creature. Collapsing atop you, he pressed kisses to the sensitive crook of your neck. "Will you forgive me?"

Seizing a handful of his hair, you forcefully yanked his head back, delivering another resounding slap to his face. A mischievous grin played on your lips as you snarled, "Oh, Sekido, I'm far from finished with you. Better play the part of a good and obedient boy for your human mistress for the rest of the night, and your deeds may be forgiven."

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥 #sinful sunday #anime smut #divider by cafekitsune #sekido smut #sekido #hantengu clones #sekido x reader #sekido x y/n #sekido x you #kny smut #demon slayer smut #sekido kny #kny sekido #kny x reader #kny x y/n #demon slayer x reader