#Blood sugar concentration

[artisticdivasworld]

Struggling to stay focused? Here's What You Need to Know

Hey there! Have you ever found yourself in a situation where, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t seem to focus? You’re not alone. It’s a common issue, and there’s actually a lot going on behind the scenes that can affect your ability to concentrate. We have examined some of this issue before in another post and in case you missed it, you can read it here. First off, let’s talk about…

[tendermiasma]

Ariel can sometimes look intimidating but he has cried while eating soup

[neopuppy]

Shameless (M)

pairing. step-son Jeno x step-mom reader

genre. stepcest, infidelity, Jeno hates his dad, young trophy wife step-mom

wc. 10k

warnings. dubcon, profanity, exercise/body talk, Jeno has a thing for sweat, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Shameless//Camila Cabello

smut warnings. masturbation, mommy kink, coercion, a lot of breast focus, reader has large breasts, oral, improper use of a cucumber.., raw fucking, noncon filming, wet messy etc..

“She’s a little too young, even for you.”

Jeno’s tongue drags along the backs of his teeth peering over his father’s shoulder for the last 10 minutes as he idly scrolled through various photos and short video clips. Most innocent enough, cute selfies showing off your pretty fanned out eyelashes, a new lip gloss shade, or just an adorable smile.

The videos his dad took time to watch made Jeno’s breath hitch, looping the few seconds of you showing off a new bikini for summer, filming yourself in the mirror and turning to show off a scandalous yet feminine pattern right above the indentation of bikini bottom scrunched between your pert buttcheeks.

“I work very hard, son, believe I deserve a pretty young thing.” He snickers, having noticed the youngers reflection on his phone screen a few minutes ago. “Something about this one..”

“Where’d you find her? Another sugar baby app you had to pay to join?” Jeno crosses his arms, glaring daggers into the back of his father’s head. Pathetic, working hard for what? To blow your funds on women who probably gag over your shoulder while you fuck them and lose your stamina after two minutes?

His father chuckles, swiping the social media app shut to open his messages. “You’re going to hate this but she approached me first.” With a proud smile he turns to face his son, showing off back and forth messaging between the two of you. Majority of the context is similar to how two cute shy teens would chat, nothing racy despite knowing his father’s likely buying time to pounce and unleash an arsenal of embarrassing boomer dick pics.

“You’re lying.”

Standing up, his father sneers, a smile hidden somewhere behind his resentful expression. “Believe it or not, your old man’s still got it. Now, if you don’t mind— I have a date with your soon-to-be step-mom.” He winks, purposefully bumping roughly into his son’s shoulder on his way out of the living room; leaving Jeno standing there rubbing at the spot mindlessly, jaw tight as he recounts your username to conduct his own investigation.

His first summer home in years and this is what his asshole father wants to pull? Jeno grimaces, plopping down on the couch to commence his search and find your other social media platforms.

“Twenty-fucking-two? He’s out of his mind.” Muttering to himself, he quickly taps in and out of various videos. The fact that you follow dance trends is enough to make his eyes roll, concentrating harder than he should have to on your face and the quirky silly wide eyes you make at the camera instead of the obscene way your breasts bounce freely beneath a much too tight and thin crop top, braless. Of course.

Jeno bets you did approach his dad first, he can picture it now. A sweet little helpless thing miraculously bumping into him at Whole Foods or some other ridiculously overpriced grocery store, batting your big doe eyes irresistibly after calculating the worth of the ludicrous gold Rolex adorning his wrist. No doubt adding the sum of his Gucci loafers and Dior sunnies; undoubtedly pushed up into his salt and pepper hair as he read over the nutritional information of a new all-natural all-organic sugar free gluten free energy drink.

You probably struck up conversation from there, perched yourself on his dad’s arm striking up flirtatious charm about the product in his hands, just to lean in closer and smash your ample chest against his arm.

Jeno clicks his phone shut frustrated, balling his fist open and shut to watch the blood flow down and redden his skin.

It infuriates him how easily his father continues to win, after the divorce his view of the man he once admired could never be repaired. What he once respected and admired all came crumbling down as his mother broke down crying in his arms after years of pretending to act dumb and not notice late evenings at the office, extended company trips, or the stains of lipstick shades she’d never wear and remnants of musky oud that simply never complimented her skin.

Jeno rests his eyes, ignoring the itching ache in his chest. What could he do anyway? What did his dad have to lose that money couldn’t buy him a new and better version of.

A house? A car? More designer brands and jewelry to mark his status in the upper class?

It only took a month, one fucking month, and the answer became clear as his dad lifted you up by your trim waist hidden under ugly burly veiny paws. The smile across his face so arrogant and cocky, hoisting his young little play thing up in the pool just to watch your beautiful round chest bounce in his face beneath triangles of material hardly containing you.

Jeno can’t deny he gets something out of it too, something he stores away for later along with the cheerful sweet moaned giggles you let out after splashing his father’s face with water and demanding in the most helpless submissive tone to be put down. Bet his dad loves that, in fact, he knows he does. It didn’t even take a full two weeks before you moved in with a fat diamond rock on your ring finger. The sight of it nearly blinded him when it caught the glare of light.

Jeno knows he can’t keep up with his father’s wealth, not yet. Material things aren’t his strength either, but as he jerks off into his palm by his bedroom window facing the backyard where you’ve taken to performing your morning pilates, his eyes concentrate on your insane flexibility. The tip of your head near your feet keeping your taut ass up for him to salivate over, and now he knows one thing for sure.

He needs to fuck his step-mom.

Jeno’s usually a morning person, but leave it to his father to ruin that for him.

“Kiss kiss.”

Disgusting.

Heavily wrinkled lips pout in your face, his dad slithered around your waist from behind as you finished packing your new husband's lunch. Really, it’s repulsive to watch unfold every morning. The only perk being the smile you beam Jeno’s way with your much too chipper and excited ‘Good Morning!’ As you skip to the fridge to pour some of your lemon water into a glass, breasts all round and taunting from where he sits; nipples always hard, piercing through your collection of various nighties and tank tops.

“Anything for breakfast? I can whip up some pancakes real quick if you want.”

Jeno tries to hide his grin, as much as he wishes to act like a brat— he can’t. The thing is, you’re lovely in every sense of the word. Too lovely, doting, and appealing, never once causing him annoyance.

He wants to scoff, demand you whip up the most delicious fluffiest pancakes, take your top off and throw the batter down your bare chest before laughing in your face to clean it up; lifting up one breasts at a time with fat wads of tears in your eyes as you plead for him to stop— stop being mean, stop smearing more of the mess he’s caused you to make across your lips.

“Nothing for me.” Jeno motions to the protein shake resting in his grip. “I’m trying to lean out.”

“Lean out?” Your smiles too soft, lifting to one side with surprise. “I can’t imagine you have anything but muscle left, when's the last time you had your body fat measured?”

“Ah, you don’t know because you haven’t seen me shirtless, yet.” Jeno says, more as an invitation to get a rise out of you, having to swallow back a sigh at your lack of response; not even a hint of interest. “Need to slim down my waist a bit to really achieve the shape I want.”

“Well if you ask me..” Jeno waits, appreciating how lightly you float around the kitchen to gather your fruits and toppings to decorate your yogurt bowl with. “You look really fit, your waist is practically non-existent.”

“How much do you weigh?” He asks abruptly, evidently throwing you off by the way your gaze widens in shock and a stutter passes between your lips, quickly averting your attention back to the half chopped strawberry in front of you.

“Wha— uhm..”

“Sorry, that was rude.” Jeno smiles, awkwardly scratching his nape. “I was wondering if it’s less than what I can press.”

A dazed gleam coats your iris, staring back dumbfounded by the image of your step-son working his hips up with crossed eyebrows, using all the force and strength of his muscle mass to lift.

“How much can you do?” You ask, clearing your throat and refocusing on your breakfast. The question more to keep up with the conversation before you run off to hide in your bedroom.

Jeno lets out a breathy laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked, don’t know what I was thinking.” Pushing up from the kitchen island to stand, he pauses before making his way to exit; having taken to a grueling AM workout after downing his shakes. “I can definitely press double, if not more than what you weigh.”

He doesn’t miss the way your hands come to a halt, gripping around the knife in your hold, eyes silently falling shut with a deep breath.

“You should come join me some time, bet I can lift you easily.”

Jeno’s grateful at least that his father has no choice but to work morning to evening five days a week to earn the lavish lifestyle he’s achieved. He’s thankful because you love to perform your afternoon stretches in the backyard, the landscape his bedroom window coincidentally faces.

“So flexible.” He mumbles to himself, forehead resting against the window frame where he stands with his hand buried inside of his boxers, mindlessly thumbing at the slit of his cock for a hint of relief. Your mid-day sessions only last about over an hour, depending on how far you want to push yourself.

Sure, the splits always made his balls tighten up, having to slow down the pace and pull at his length, circling the base to quell the sudden urge to throw you up and down on his cock fully spread out.

But really, the extended puppy pose takes him over the edge every time.

Jerking off from his bedroom window has become unsatisfactory, the best part is really after when you walk in with your smile high off endorphins, gently patting the sweat that’s accumulated on your gorgeous décolleté.

“Oh Jeno, I thought you’d gone out.”

He hums, following your movements around the kitchen to replenish your hydration, noting the beads of sweat continuously rolling down between the dip in your back. His teeth bite down on the tip of his tongue, tempted to shove you up against the fridge and lick them all clean before falling to his knees to suck the dark patch between your thighs.

“Good workout?” Jeno never tries to hide that he’s checking you out, he makes it obvious everyday. “Looks like you really worked up a sweat.”

“Oh yeah, it’s so hot outside.” The lack of eye contact you’re able to maintain indicates discomfort, judging by the way you try to clean off your stomach and arms.

“My dad has a thing about sweat, right?” Jeno offhandedly mentions, not missing the awkward twitch in your cheek to hide a grimace. “That’s why you’re always so clean by the time he gets home? The water bill has to be through the roof with how often he has you doing laundry.. not that he cares.”

“I suppose his nose is a bit sensitive.”

“He always complained about how my mom smelled, her hair after a day of not washing, the smell of the dinner she cooked him on her hands still.” He continues, enjoying your lack of reply. “He’s picky about a lot of things, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

A fake smile shuts down the conversation, nodding toward the staircase. “It’s time for my shower.”

Jeno nods, shamelessly eyeing the stains of wetness under your large breasts, pushed together even tighter by the binding sports bra meant to keep you held in place through vigorous activity. “Wouldn’t want daddy to get mad now, would we?”

A wash of embarrassment has you scurrying away from your step-son quickly, leaving behind the small towel drenched in your sweat that immediately catches his attention.

Jeno definitely inherited the same sensitive sense of smell from his father, but unlike the old man he’d become more addicted to the different places his nose had led him to. A smirk lifts his lips, tucking the towel up above his mouth to deeply inhale. It’s mind-numbing how delectable you smell, he even sucks on the remnants of damp that hasn’t fully evaporated, quietly mewling within his chest.

The telltale sound of the upstairs shower from his father’s bedroom tears him from slipping into euphoric madness, cock already half-erect as he trudges up the stairs and finds himself tip-toeing into your bedroom, the bathroom door only softly creaking as he makes space to peer through. The daily routine of watching you scrub down every inch of skin, so smooth, hairless, meticulously shaving clean each short hint of stuble. His father must be real demanding of how his little stay at home house-wife should present herself, of course.

Bunching the nearly dried towel inside of his briefs, Jeno groans between clenched lips, rubbing the cotton fabric up and down his length, his heart rate pumping up to a high-speed when you lift a leg to reach deep between your thighs and leave the fleshy area hidden there completely bald.

That will change once he manages to infiltrate, he’ll make you change for him.

“You should go out son, I don’t want you hanging around the house.” Jeno’s dad doesn’t even bother to mask his disdain, shoving a wad of cash at his chest. “Scram.”

That would be too easy, it’s not as if his friends haven’t been blowing up his phone about some party tonight. He’ll plan to leave later and miss the sound of his father’s pig-like moaning squeals when he takes five minutes to fuck you. For now, his ass isn’t moving from one of the pool chairs, opting for the more shaded area under a large canopy to watch from.

Why would he want to miss out on the display you put on for his old man, stepping out in a tight little two piece bikini that does nothing to cover any of your curves. Jeno’s cock twitches as you slowly step out of your robe and his dad whistles making grabby hands at you to enter the pool. “Jump in, baby doll.”

Sick. God he hates hearing that old worn voice order your around. He hates how you giggle and enter from the steps, giving him a half-assed jump only for your breasts to lift up under your chin before the water immerses your perfect body, lifting back out pouring cascades of wet down your shoulders and arms before his dad snatches you up by the waist. “That’s my girl.”

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five—

Jeno takes a deep breath through his nose, an irritating pinch forming between his eyebrows the more you indulge his father, dawning the smile only reserved for your husband: hugging him close between your mounds of breasts as he releases a deep moan and licks up your neck.

His stomach churns the longer he watches, shoving himself to stand and move to the jacuzzi where he can’t help but to still watch from, ignoring the daggers his father’s eyes shoot at him on his way in. He won’t dare enter the pool while the two of you canoodle in there, preferring to stay clueless as to what your lower halves could be up to, the sight of his dad’s thick ugly hands cupping your breasts from is behind already enough to make him gag.. maybe if not for the shocked moan you let out, wrapping around his wrists shyly. “Babe.. we’re not alone.”

You whisper, but Jeno traces the words from your lips, ducking lower into the jacuzzi until one of the jets rumbles against his stomach, chin grazing under the hot water.

“Ignore him.” His dad could give two fucks, squeezing under your chest with more firmness, pushing them together creating a long dip of cleavage.

Jeno can see the lack of comfort in your hidden gaze, keeping your eyelids lowered with a demure embarrassed smile, saving face only for your husband's pleasure. He knows if you couldn’t sense another pair of eyes on you, you’d be your usual bubbly coquettish self, flouncing around burying his dad’s face in your chest, giggling all loud and cute.

The thrill of watching your discomfort escalate makes his cock kick up, lowering down onto his knees for only his eyes to peer over the jacuzzi’s ledge, noticing the way your gaze skirts by quickly to not give him enough acknowledgment to feel seen, but to stay aware of just how much your step-son can see. It’s easy from the angle to remove his father’s existence behind you, especially when he shifts closer to the ledge and one of the jets blasts right against his groin.

A shiver runs up his chest, biting down on his bottom lip as he stays transfixed on your flimsily covered breasts abused and bounced around. He has to hold back a curse when he finally unties his swim trunks, tugging free his length right in front of the burst of bubbled water. The pressure pushing out of the jet breaks against his slit, choking down a groan when your gaze finally meets his, mouth tense and ashamed.

He can’t keep a smile off his face, tugging harder at himself as your forehead wrinkles together, breathily arched up by the force pushing your breasts up and down against the splash of blue chlorine water.

The water around him boils against his skin even hotter, short of breath under the heat, short of breath from the image of your lips parting open. Jeno imagines you can bend your neck forward and wrap around his girth passing between your tits, it wouldn't be hard to reach anyway. Jerking up, he pushes against the jet hole, cock instantly engulfed by an intense amount of pressure blowing out against him. The push and pull only causes his stomach to clench, sink in and hollow out his middle-section.

You were doing a better job at ignoring him before, unable to stop for seconds now to watch your step-son’s facial features contort together… he can’t, he wouldn’t..

Nostrils flare, shoulders hidden under the bubbly foam around him, jerking mindlessly into the jet. It’s like breaking a dam over and over again, the pressure of release spilling out against his thick size, the only thing missing being your convulsing slick warmth squeezing and fighting to push him free as he thrusts in harder, fucking you full beyond capacity you can handle.

Jeno could care less about the predicament he’s landed in here, stroking his cock without control like some wild animal, succumbing to his desires and needs to bend you into all kinds of positions. He knows he can too after weeks of watching you move your body bonelessly, get you twisted up like a pretzel, face down ass up, legs behind your head full-nelson you flat on your back with his dick full slotted inside, grinding down just to watch you fail to squirm away. He’d leave you with no room to move, let alone breathe, fat tits pushed up under your chin, jiggling up and down and up and down with each thrust.

“Fuck.” He’s close now, tongue lolling out at the gasp that hitches in your throat. Siren-like eyes glazed over from the constant manipulation your breasts have been put through. What a fucking pervert, watching you struggle to collect yourself and maintain your etiquette.

Does his dad even savor the way every inch of your body tastes? Does he suck on your tits until your nipples pebble up rock hard and dig into the roof of his mouth? Jeno never see’s a mark on you, no… daddy doesn’t play rough with his toys, does he.

Jeno would though, fuck he’d have you screaming to the high heavens. He can’t hide the bob of his head the closer he reaches, catching your fully widened eyes stuck on him, and your bikini top finally coming undone after minutes of tugging and kneading.

Hands too large to be yours come up just a second too late to cover over your exposed nipples allowing Jeno the chance to see how swollen and pert and big they’ve gotten, probably prodding at his dad’s hideous rough palms.

The wet bounce of fat under his control has him emptying out into the jet, most of his release blown away from the powerful stream mixing in with the rest of the ramped jacuzzi water.

He has to calm himself, overheated from the drop back down to reality, overheated from the sun burning down onto the already steamy hot tub of water. Taking his time, he’s lazy to exit, patting off his reddened chest and stinging skin to a somewhat dry finish. The heat hardly subsides with eyes on him, specifically yours..

“I said scram you damn brat.”

His father’s shrill tone gives him an excuse to glance over, most of your frame hidden by his wide back stretched around you to hug you against the pool wall for discretion to tie your top back up.

“Yeah yeah, don’t wait up for me.” Not that he would, Jeno didn’t really mean that for his father anyway. The lingering gaze grazing down his body taking in every crevice and dip of bare naked muscle though, part of him hopes that you will wait up. He means it though, even with one more glance your direction before heading inside, finding your eyes for only a millisecond.

Don’t wait up mommy, I’ll be too busy fucking any hole presented to me, maybe even multiple. Anything to curb the incessant growing need to get you alone, slam you down and fuck you until you’re ripping that ring off your finger.

Jeno has to admit, he’s impressed by how long you’ve held it together, managed to keep up your composure around him despite his best efforts to make you start to crack.

Soon. Real soon.

“You’re around the house way too much, either get a job or get out.” Jeno’s father barged into his bedroom after that little pool escapade. Throwing pamphlets for schools across the country at his face. “I put enough money in your bank account, it’s time for you to quit fucking around and make something of yourself.

Jeno knows deep down inside his father’s ulterior motivation came from an all too pretty adorable wife, evidently unhappy with the way his son has decided to forgo his gym membership in favor of walking around shirtless dripping in sweat after using the home equipment.

He couldn’t put up much of an argument with the old man. It’s not entirely your fault he found his ass on a train 7 hours away the next week, just in time for a new semester.

Sure, it’s not entirely your fault, he can’t put all of that insecure assholes blame on you.

But it is your fault, and that long silent train ride gave him all the time to ponder, reflect, plot, devise the next step. Work harder, fuck more, leave you with no choice but to wipe the drool from your chin at the mere sight of your step-son.

If only it could be that easy. He really can’t stand how reluctant you are to trip and fall, landing right into the palm of his hands breasts first. Can’t stand the way you still parade around town proudly introducing yourself as the Mrs. Lee. The side-eyes and whispers never affect you, too happy to give a damn with each guiltless swipe of your husband’s black American Express.

God, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand you.

Jeno really can’t stand his step-mom.

Not because you’re awful or even a bitch, no.. in fact, you’re perfect. Too perfect for his nasty cheater asshole father who could care less for his mother, now ex-wife.

“Ah Jeno, it’s so nice to have you home again.” Your sweet cheerful voice interrupts his fuming thoughts, the back of his head instantly relaxing in the mound of your breasts as you circle his neck and lean down to hug him. “You hungry? I stocked up on all of your favorites.”

Nuzzling back into your warm embrace, he sighs, eyes drifting shut to inhale the notes of peach and cucumber wafting from your freshly cleansed skin. Supple soft radiant skin he knows you spend meticulous hours of the day exfoliating, lotioning, massaging with oil only for your useless husband to rub his old disgusting rough hands upon.

“Missed cooking for me?” He mumbles, shifting to bury his nose in the column of your throat to fully immerse himself in your savory scent.

“Look how skinny you’ve come back, that school not feeding you properly or something?” You reprimand, patting over his flat stomach lightly. “I have to make sure to keep you full for the next couple of weeks before your break ends.”

Nudging the top of his head with your chin, you continue into the kitchen, still in your silky pajama set. Something short, hardly covering your abundant chest, dad wouldn’t have his young little trophy wife any other way, always ready for the taking.

Jeno can only imagine how many mornings his father has snuck up on you making breakfast, bending you over to fill you up before heading to work. Fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to even touch you, let alone any of those fake moans you must practice to please him.

“Are you worried about me?” Jeno’s chair scratches across the kitchen tile, slowly lifting up to get a better look at your buttcheeks squeezed by your panties, innocently bent over in search of a pan. “Maybe the school cafeteria doesn’t serve anything that satisfies my hunger.”

“I’ll fix that,” too distracted on your hunt for the right spices and oils, you fail to notice how close Jeno’s gotten, hovering behind you with a smirk as your robe slips from your shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted to go to school so far away. You could be eating my home cooking everyday if you’d just stayed local.”

“…is that so?” A grin teases at his lips, halting your hand from adjusting your robe to push it down left to fall at your feet.

A shiver runs up your spine sensing his breath fanning across your shoulder, palms smoothing down your waist to your hips. “Jeno?”

“I’m hungry, mommy.”

“Jeno? Wha—“ your hips stay locked in place, shoved against the kitchen counter by the stronger ones behind you knocking forward to trap you.

“I missed you too, mommy.” Shoving his hips forward, Jeno’s girth slots between your flimsily covered ass, rutting quickly to lodge between and create delicious friction against his cock. “You know what I really missed?”

“Je-Jeno.. what are you..”

“Last summer when you moved in, every different ridiculously tiny bikini you wore around the pool. Your fat tits barely contained, just how dad likes it huh? I guess we have that in common.” Keeping you held against the counter with his hips grinding in circles against your ass, hands find a way to your shoulders, swiftly dropping down the straps of your nightgown leaving your breast to bounce out freely. The morning crisp air circulating around the house breezes past your nipples, hardening the buds instantaneously.

“Sweetie, this.. this isn’t right, your dad—“

“Is an asshole.” Jeno bites, cupping your breasts that overflow in his hold, the fat squeezing between his digits pushing out a low groan from deep within his chest. “Fucking decrepit dickhead, bet he can’t even get hard from this alone? I’ve seen that erectile dysfunction prescription.. can’t even take care of you and fuck you right can he, mommy?”

To emphasize his point, Jeno’s hips swerve, fucking forward vigorously for the thick shape of his rod to slam between your panty covered behind, night gown bunched up over your hips from his incessant humping. “Can’t tell me a pretty young thing like you doesn’t miss it, hours and hours of getting the life fucked out of you.”

The kneading and massaging at your chest accompanied with your step-sons evidently large size has you panting, hands gripping the kitchen counter for some relief. Shaking your head, you try to ignore the way your hips rut back to find his, biting back a moan from escaping. “Jeno, please.. sweetie, d-don’t—your dad..”

A rough slap under your breast silences you, the fat rippling under Jeno’s strength as he delivers another slap, working in succession to bounce and smack each with his chin perched over your shoulder rambling on and on about how good you look like this. Perfectly pliant, needy, face full of ecstasy all thanks to your step-son.

“Dad has great taste, I’ll give the old fuck that.” Jeno snickers, teeth digging into the vein lining the side of your throat. “Had me hard as a rock fucking into my fist all summer, tried to get over you by filling up any hole.. couldn’t get your pretty body off my mind.”

“Jeno, baby.. w-we can’t. Your dad, he’ll.. he’ll kill you.”

Breath staggers against your neck at the term of endearment, hips fucking against you in earnest. “You think I fucking care about him? What about you? What about this mess you’ve made mommy? How can you do this to me? Tempt me all the time with these perfect fucking tits and expect me to leave you alone now?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry Jeno.. I didn’t—“

“Baby, I’m your baby.” Jeno pinches your nipples roughly, pulling and slapping forcing a loud echo of skin on skin to barrel across the kitchen. Jackhammering his hips faster against your ass. “Tell me to stop, don’t fucking tell me what dad wants. You tell me to stop.”

“B-baby… I-I…” a sad pathetic cry sounds, dropping forward loosely as your thighs tremble erratically, held up only the rough grip on your chest undoubtedly leaving behind marks of nails and bruising.

“Must be true.” Jeno grunts, shoving your underwear down. “Like father, like son.”

“Jeno, please, you can’t do this!” It’s harder now to fight him off, roughly taken by your chest, fondled like some little doll only there to pleasure him. “If—if he finds out—“

“Don’t worry about that senial bastard, he wouldn’t be able to read a sign even if it was spelled out for him.” Your step-son doesn’t relent, fucking against your panties roughly until the his stiffed up cock shoves the material between your ass. “You’re so wet for me, you feel that? Feel me?”

Jeno thrusts forward angling his size right between your poorly clenched thighs, ass bouncing back against his pelvic bone. “Think you can handle that? Too big for you mommy?” He reaches down to whip out his cock, expertly dragging his fully hard length out to slot against your soaked covered core. The contact makes his eyes roll up, long eyelashes fluttering rapidly impairing his vision for a minute as his size drags against the wet shape of your cunt.

“Oh fuck fuck.” Jeno refuses to cum like this, even if his stomach muscles contort and suck in viciously. He swallows down a hissed breath, jerking back to fuck against your drenched panties in earnest.

“J-Jeno.. please!”

“You want it, huh? Wanna get fucked by a big fat cock finally?” Jeno bites back a laugh, mostly a groan as the tip of his cock ruts against your clit. “Daddy can’t fuck you the way you need, can’t get you off. When’s the last time you had a real orgasm? Not that whiny shit you fake for him.”

Inner-turmoil loses to your arousal, forced to slide up and down what feels like a forearm between your thighs. Your good sense dissipates the more your cunt spreads around the girth pushing between your folds, aching to feel each pulsating vein lining your step-son’s length drag against your wet slick pussy.

“I’m… fuck Jeno..” between gasps and choked back moans, you weakly give him a thrusts back, faintly meeting his motion to rut against your clit and create a mind-numbing friction.

One of his palms lands against your ass like a crack of a whip, sending your chest to collide forward and press against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. “What did you call me?”

Gathering your underwear, Jeno pulls the material aside, sucking spit away that's gathered around his thirsty tongue upon seeing your cunt so ready to be wrecked and fucked. “Look at that tight hole, like a virgin. No way daddy’s fucking you right.”

You’re grateful that your brain hasn’t fully failed you yet, even with your step-son’s thick palms spreading your ass open continuing to spew nonsense out about the appearance of your perfect pussy. God knows you’d beg and confess how badly you need to cum— cum around your husband's son’s monster sized cock. “How am I going to fit in there mommy? I’m way too big for you.”

Jeno sounds sadistic, hawking out spit that lands and drips down to your entrance. “Should I be nice and prep you?” He laughs, a fake laugh, a mocking teasing laugh. “That would be too nice of me, wouldn’t it?”

He leans over your back, reaching for the basket of fruits and vegetables just past your head. “Should I be nice?”

Long fingers wrap around one of the cucumbers half hanging out of the basket, dragging the vegetable down to smack against your cheek. The solid food slaps your skin heavy and rough, making your step-son smile wide, highly pleased by the shame wrinkling your forehead together. “Mommy’s always so nice to me, always takes care of me so well.” Jeno taunts, leaning back and tapping the vegetable down your spine to run between your buttcheeks.

“I shouldn’t be too mean..” the thick tip of the cucumber meets your entrance, cold against your heated core making your hips shiver forward to get away.

“Baby..”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He presses in, cursing between gritted teeth as he watches you stretch open around the vegetable. It’s big, even then no competition for how wide the tip of his dick is alone. “Opening up so so pretty for me, mommy.”

He fucks the cucumber inside of you just half-way, sending your toes to arch up from the floor and scramble to grab at the kitchen counter; threatening to cut open your bottom lip with how hard you bite down to keep in a moan. The whole situation makes you feel dirty, disgusting, ashamed that you couldn’t stop him. That deep down inside you know you’d never stop him, you want it too much. Form the day you noticed your step-son watching you stretch from his bedroom window, to the time you caught a glimpse of him by the bathroom door as you scrubbed down and rinsed your naked body clean. You’ve always wanted him to make a move.

Maybe you’d been dreaming of this moment all along, adding your ingredients to the pot everyday until everything boiled over and spilled past the rim.

“So fucking nasty mommy.” Jeno keeps mumbling, thrusting the vegetable in and out of you, enthralled by the way it comes out stickier, coated with a thick layer of sheen. The wet dripping out past your cunt with each fill, spilling down your inner thighs to the kitchen floor like some whore that needs to be fucked and bred everyday. “Taking it so good, you’ll take me even better.”

His throbbing length slaps against your hip with each push and pull against your insides, hissing and groaning behind you the closer he reaches to stumbling over the edge. “You want that mommy? Want me to fuck you so good, make you forget about that huge rock weighing down your finger.”

Jeno doesn’t let you answer, not noticing the way you curl your hand into a fist to tuck away your wedding ring before discarding the cucumber as he rips you off the counter to shove you down to your knees.

“Fuck.” Gripping around his length he strokes quickly, reaching down to pull on one of your nipples and watch the fat perky mound jiggle under his ministrations.

“Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, push them together for me mommy.” Jeno slaps your breast impatiently, balls tight and tensed up between his thighs doing his best to stave off his orgasm from barreling out.

Eyes filled with big watery tears gaze up in a daze, cupping your substantial fat tits together making the perfect little pocket pussy for his cock to slide between. “Oh fuckkk.”

Jeno’s neck drops forward, slamming up between your squished breasts. Teeth grinding together to stop himself from screaming at the visual of your heavy perfect tits bouncing around his size, the tip of his length nearly hitting under your chin with each thrusts up against your chest. “So good mommy, so fucking good!”

Jeno reaches for your jaw, squeezing in roughly and smacking your cheek to pop open your lips. “Just like that, so fucking hot.” It’s everything he’s dreamt about. Nights stuck inside of his dorm room looking up milf porn, step-son breeding step-mom, juicy breasts bouncing on his computer screen that could never compare to how good this feels.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, thrusting against your chest harder, forcing the weight of your breasts up and back down into your palms, bouncing deliciously. Slapping your cheek again, digits dig into your cheeks and drop a wad of spit in. Pleased from his high up angle as you stay open and let him watch it glide down to the back of your throat. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Jeno tugs away, cock slapping down on your parted lips before reaching for the tip to squeeze around and release into your mouth. “Swallow all of it.” He moans out, circling your throat with his other hand to feel himself slide down. “That’s it, so good for me mommy.”

The smug smile he gives you before hoisting you up to sit on the table you share meals with your husband at lets you know this is far from over. “Don’t be rude mommy.” Jeno pouts, pushing space for himself between your thighs. Soft palms stroke up and down almost like a warning. “Say thank you.”

He smirks, sinking down to bury between your thighs and proceed to use his tongue in ways your husband never has.

“Dinner looks great!” Your poor unsuspecting husband sits down right where his son had his meal with you mere hours ago(one that had your back split up in an arch and your eyes meeting the back of your skull), hands clasped together before the plate you serve him.

“Now now,” Jeno chimes in, moving to stand from the dinner table to grab a bowl from the fridge. “I see no greens on that plate, didn’t your doctor warn you about that high cholesterol?”

Your husband eyes his son suspiciously, too focused on the little brat to see the sheer panic running over your face behind his side. “I found this new cucumber salad recipe, I think you’ll really like it dad.”

He smiles, an endearing sweet genuine smile, a smile that could easily make you forget what type of evil menace you’re really dealing with here. “Here, try it out.”

To your absolute horror, Jeno sets down a bowl of seasoned, finely chopped, and wet cucumber before his father, nodding eagerly.

“You put poison in this or something?” He grumbles, stabbing at the slices before shoving a batch into his mouth and chomping with a pleased hum. “Not bad, not bad at all. What’s that flavor?”

His son grins wide, eyes large and full of mirth.

“I knew you’d like it, got a kick to it right?” He blinks up to meet your mortified gaze, biting down on your fingernails as your mind shouts frantically- he wouldn’t!.. he would!.. no, no, HE WOULDN’T.

As if he can read your thoughts, Jeno winks at you, clapping his father on the shoulder. “I guess we have the same taste, daddy.”

“Don’t dare bother to throw any parties while I’m gone.” Jeno’s father glares at him, pointer finger digging between his chest. “No funny business you hear me? You need to show your step-mom some respect.”

Jeno has a hard time hiding a smug smirk, having to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to contain himself. “Oh dad, trust me, I will show her nothing but the utmost respect. You have nothing to worry about.”

His father squints, skepticism crossing his wrinkled features as he takes in his son’s face once more before heading out to bid you a long goodbye filled with lingering wet kisses.

“Right. You know what? These vacation breaks from school really seem unnecessary. Why can’t you be normal and go on trips to different party cities like the rest of the guys your age?” He scoffs, waving him off flippantly, not even a hug? Jeno clutches his chest dramatically, following after to watch the two of you say your goodbyes from the top of the staircase.

“If he bothers you..” Thick calloused fingers hold your chin delicately, nothing like the nimble boney ones that dug into your face just a few days ago and forced your mouth open to spit past your tongue. Jeno doesn’t really care to tune in, more amused than anything by the little act you keep up. Such a cute young sweet house-wife, more dolled up than your usual for a morning session of pilates. The extra effort put into your appearance no doubt for his father’s benefit, a pretty vision for him to leave behind. It’s not as if the 2 minutes it took for him to fuck you this morning wasn’t enough for the old man.

Jeno hums to himself, catching your line of sight before you follow after his dad to say bye from the driveway as he enters his ride to the airport. Maybe that’s fear in your eye, but excitement builds up his chest nonetheless; you’ll have no arms to run to now. Nowhere to hide that he won’t be able to find you, no asshole of a father to whisk you away from him. At least not for the next foreseeable 24 hours.

That’s why he goes back to bed, his father rudely awoke him this morning with a loud cursed groan after climaxing out of breath and falling onto your bed with a loud thud. He’s surprised the old man hasn’t keeled over and died yet trying to get his rocks off with you. Jeno sighs thinking about the past few days as he lays back down and buries his face into his pillow, you really have been doing a great job of avoiding him.

That doesn’t mean he misses the silent glances and hesitant looks, or the stiffness in your spine whenever he so much as passes by. No, he notices everything you do, even how you’ve been locking your bedroom door when taking showers now. It’s cute really, a game more than anything now as he rests his eyes and hums, imagining you’ve come back inside and surveillanced the downstairs area for your big scary step-son, probably sighing in relief that he’s left you alone. For now.

He’ll let you get your lovely perfect morning routine on, build up a nice sweat that gets your heart racing, high off endorphins from stretching and straining your muscles with various exercises. He’d prefer it that way really, and judging from the time— soon, soon you’ll be on your way to the kitchen to refresh with a nice chill glass of electrolytes. What a pleasant easy life his father has granted you, all you have to grant him in return is your body. It’s no wonder you work daily to keep up appearances for the old man.

Jeno’s mother had never cared much to fulfill his father’s porngraphic ideals of how women should look and act, but you, ah he really struck gold with you. He can’t deny that if he had found you first, he would have ate you alive.

“Oh.”

Your step-son’s not surprised to see you exit the newly renovated makeshift room filled with gym equipment(that used to be for his gaming consoles), gently patting your sweat glistened skin off as the door opens and unveils him standing there across from you expectantly.

“Figured you wouldn’t want me to share such a small space with you.” Jeno says, making no effort to disguise his gaze, dragging down from your chest to your hips and stopping between your thighs to moisten his lips. “All sweaty, out of breath, making sounds that could read as inappropriate..”

Tight-lipped, you nod and ignore him before stepping out and motioning inside the gym room. “All yours.”

“Everything?”

Jeno’s arm launches forward before you can take another step, pausing you dead in your tracks against the hallway wall, a less than innocent grin stares back at you. He cocks an eyebrow, following the beads of sweat raining down your forehead at faster speed the closer he inches forward until you’re pressed up against the wall with little room to free yourself.

“You thought I’d make this easy, didn’t you?” He huffs through his nose, bending at his neck to perch his nostrils right above your throat and swallow down the fresh scent of your hard work. “Burned up a real good sweat for daddy?”

“Jeno, can we talk first at least?” You squirm, leaning back as much as you can with feet flat to the ground in an attempt to slither down the wall inconspicuously. “I don’t want your dad to suspect anything, what happened the other day..”

“When you came around my tongue and begged me to fuck you?” He interrupts, pressing his forehead forward to hold yours in place, voice gruff and deep. “Or when daddy enjoyed his meal? Were you scared mommy? Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you.”

“That’s not it, I’m married to your father!” You smack his chest to push yourself free, digging your palms into his muscular pecs without much budge. The contact only riles him up more, releasing a growl and bumping his nose closer to yours. “Please! Jeno, I’m all sweaty and disgusting. Let me take a shower first at least.”

“Why would I let you do that? And ruin all of this for me?” This being the sweat Jeno proceeds to lick from the divet between your collarbone, slurping his way down to your ample breasts squeezed snuggly inside of a tight sports bra. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.”

Hearing his praise only makes you squeamish, struggling more to shove him away and break free from his biceps bracketed around you. “Please, I smell! Don’t be gross!”

It’s laughable to even ask this of your step-son, especially after having to sit and watch your husband munch away on a phallic shaped vegetable that his son had just used to get you off with.

“I’m gonna need you to shut up mommy,” Jeno scoops the soaked fabric of your bra under your breasts, pushed up higher forming two round mounds perfect for sucking on. “Nothing gross about you, or this.” Teeth bury into the perky fat of your chests, sucking roughly, rough enough to hurt but not leave marks behind.

Jeno can’t stop his hips from rutting forward, grinding his aching thickening cock against your stomach. His basketball shorts don’t do much to conceal how hard he is already, having chubbed up in his room from the thought alone of what he planned to do to you today. He has enough respect for you to leave no signs of bruising behind on your chest, but that doesn’t mean he cares when you cry out to stop again and pull away with your weak nails scratching at the wall.

“You really want me to stop?” He asks, cock dragging up and down from between your pelvis to just above your navel. “Tell me the truth mommy, I know he can’t fuck you the way I can. Know you’re desperate for it, want your sweet little step-son to hang you off his fat 9 inch cock? Come on mommy.” Jeno’s drooling between each word, slathering your chest in spit between his muffled speech and consistently sucking. “Admit it, wanna get fucked so bad.”

“N-no.. please, baby, don’t—“

Jeno’s chest rumbles, groaning loudly as he reaches to pull your bra off, rolling the wet material up for your breasts to bounce out lewdly. The smack of your chest meeting the top of your ribcage and breasts clapping together makes you squeal, quickly shutting your eyes in shame.

“Fuck, so sexy mommy. Don’t hide from me, don’t hide any of this from me.” He squeezes your chest roughly, jutting your nipples out to form perfect taut pacifiers to suck on. Jeno’s tongue works feverishly, sucking and licking at your pert buds until they fully harden to a painful point under the vacuuming pull from his mouth.

Jeno leaves your chest swollen, blood rushed to the skin he’s sucked on viciously. He hums, examining how heavy they weigh down in his palms, gripping and kneading, shoving his face between your cleavage just to hear you squeal and struggle to inch away from him. So damn cute.

“That old assholes really manipulated you well,” he grumbles, licking up the trickles of sweat dripping down from your nape to your shoulders and chest. “Has you thinking this is gross? That you are gross? What the fuck is wrong with him, huh? I should kick his fucking ass.”

“Don’t talk about your dad like that..” you whimper, biting back a moan when he bites and tugs at one of your hard nipples, jiggling your other breast against his face. Even with your mind battling between lust and guilt, you can’t help but to feel bad.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Jeno whispers, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your lips to shut you up. “He doesn’t even appreciate you.”

His hand cups between your legs, making your thighs lock around his wrist as he cups your sweat soaked mound. Shorts still wet after your vigorous workout. “Baby, not there, please please.”

“Mommy, I’m not going to tell you to be fucking quiet again.” He grins, licking your lips before sliding down your body to his knees. Jeno peers up, eyes sparkling in a dreamy almost innocent way, like a kid in a candy store. “I’m nothing like him.”

To prove his point, his face drops forward between your legs. The fight you put up to keep him out is useless, overpowered by his much larger stronger size as his arms come to wrap around your thighs and pull you apart allowing for his nose to drag up and down your sweaty slick soaked workout shorts.

“Jeno!” Your neck drops back weakly, eyes rolling shut at the sensation of your step-son pulling the material of your shorts with the suction of his mouth alone. Tonguing and sucking on the fabric to absorb the remnants of sweat that poured down and collected between your thighs. Pulling on his hair serves you no advantage, completely under his control as he grinds your cunt against his face roughly.

The only resolution you find comes from covering your face to hide your moans of pleasure, whimpering into your hands the more he licks between your folds shaped by your thin shorts clinging to your center.

Jeno sounds like a rabid animal down there, devouring his way through the best meal he’s ever had. The first sound of a rip sends your spine to straighten out, reaching back down to pull on his hair. “What are you doing!”

He groans, more turned on by your hands digging into his scalp and pulling roughly. Scooping around your thighs for more leverage, Jeno pulls at your shorts and bites down the seam until they give, ripping enough of a hole for his digits to push through and expand. A growl vibrates against your center as he dives in, teething your thin underwear away to roll his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my Go—“ out of breath you arch against his mouth, head shaking side to side and banging into the wall behind you. “Jeno!”

His tongue hardens and swirls against your clit, stimulating each nerve until your feet kick against his back and your hips jerk forward enough to ride his face. He can hardly breathe between your thighs, unbothered by the lack of air reaching his brain as he strokes your clit in expert motion until your cunt spasms against his mouth. Shouting out with your palm hitting flat against the wall as you release down his chin, entrance rocking along the lower half of his face despite the sensitivity throbbing around your middle.

Jeno laps at his mouth like a thirsty dog, slapping your exposed core before moving to stand and wrap around your waist to ensure you can’t run. Not that you will.

“You ready for it.” Resting your hand on his groin, your step-son rushes you up the stairs, scooping under your thighs to reach your bedroom faster.

“In here?!?” You grimace, head shaking to begin pleading. “Not where we slee—“

“Hush.” Jeno doesn’t give you more of an opportunity to argue, immediately hooking into your shorts and underwear to pull them off, only throwing them aside after stuffing the wet fabric under his nose to get a deep inhale. “God damn.”

As much as he wants to let this moment wash over him, the reality of having his wildest fantasy come true, laid out flat in his prick of a father’s bed, legs spread open showing off the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen; Jeno can’t deny how badly he needs to fuck you before he cums in his pants. He’s never been this turned on before, slapping your thigh as he reaches to turn you over onto your stomach, cunt all shiny and raw from the back, squished between your legs making his head spin even more somehow. There’s no way in fucking hell his dad deserves you, not one bit.

Reaching to shove down his shorts, Jeno pats his pocket for his phone, swiping it out discreetly to hit record and perch the device against one of your pillows; making sure to keep it out of your sight before he adjusts between the backs of your thighs. “I’ll fuck your ass too.” He says with a stroke of his thumb between your buttcheeks. “Gonna need more cucumbers for that though.” He snickers, finding a photo from your honeymoon framed on your bedside table, the side you sleep on of course.

Flipping off his father’s cheesy grin, he reaches over to slam the photo down. This is his moment after all, no one else's.

He’d never let you know how raging hard his dick feels right now, lining up the tip to your waiting hole. Having to roll his tongue back to stop himself from blurting out the amount of times he’s busted a nut into his hand, on his stomach, fuck even the pool jacuzzi jets more than a few times by now. All thanks to his precious step-mom, so carelessly displaying every inch of skin, fueling his perverse brain more than you even realize

“Knew you’d take it so good for me,” it’s better than getting a taste of you, which he didn’t think was possible. The stretch of your cunt expanding around his wide girth, skin pulled over the head of his cock struggling to keep him out and somehow pull him in at the same time.

“Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” Jeno says in a more cocky tone, feeling more confident than ever now with half of his length inching inside of you. Pussy walls trembling around his size, sucking around the fat meat pulsing its way inside. No college slut, no amount of lotion to aid his palm, no graphic image available on a free adult website would ever come close to this.

Fully sheathed inside, he sounds out of breath, listening to your whimpers and moans you try to hide with your bedding tugged between your teeth. He glances at his phone quickly, positioning himself to pull out slowly and fall into a rapid pace, dropping his lower half to yours faster and faster until you’re screaming out. The way you scramble to grab onto something—arms flailing out to grab your bed for purchase only encourages him to fuck you faster. Slapping your ass with each powerful thrust.

“Best dick you’ve ever taken, don’t fucking lie to me.” Jeno demands, delivering another harsh slap to your ass before ramming forward balls deep. The collision of his palm cracks around your bedroom, knocking a loud cry from your chest. You nod rabidly in response, gasping deliriously with each pointed thrust. “Say it! Who fucks you this good!”

“You! You baby! Only you!” His phone’s camera stays angled filming your sides, albeit shaky and hard to capture the complete fucked out devestation that’s taken over your pretty face, it’s enough. Enough for him to get off to later, enough to get his way every single time if he needs to.

“That’s right,” Jeno angles his hips to fuck you full with each heavy land of his lower half, pushing your ass up with every clapping shout of skin on skin sounding out between your bodies. “Only me, only your baby.”

The camera tips over, screen gone black directed at the ceiling only recording the sounds of your moans and broken words between each other, Jeno’s gruff heavy panting breaths. The crash of your bodies rocking your headboard against your bedroom wall in a way he’s never once heard his father achieve.

“I’ll never stop fucking you now.” His bicep locks under your chin, forcing your waist to arch forward almost painfully; just enough to strain your lower back. “You’re mine.”

He follows with a growl, lips pressed up to your cheek, laving at whatever skin he’s able to reach. With another roll of his hips, he comes to a still, the thick muscle of his arm around your neck popping out in flex as his body tightens up and locks around your throat. Biting back a moan, Jeno’s release pours inside of you, hot and thick ropes of cum aimed deep inside of you before pulling out the rest of the way to spill between your ass and thighs. “Fuck!”

He sighs, kissing the top of your head to make sure your eyes have shut before reaching for his phone to record the beautiful mess left on your body. He wants to keep going on about how his dad will never fuck you to the point of nearly passing out, dragging his fingers through the mix of your releases before bringing them to his mouth to suck on.

One taste and Jeno knows he won’t stop fucking you until that ring slips off your finger for good.

“Hope he wasn’t too much to put up with while I was gone.” Your husband wraps around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Next break I’ll have him go stay with his mother.”

“It’s okay my love, he really doesn’t bother me..”

“Hmm, well he sure bothers me.” He sighs, burying his nose into your hair. “Trying a new shampoo?”

“No…” you hold back from making a face, not having had time to thoroughly clean yourself all squeaky clean thanks to your step-son fucking you through the night.

“Oh..” his nose scrunches, pulling away at the sensation of his phone vibrating against your hip. “God, what the hell can this kid want now?”

It has to be Jeno. As unsuspecting as you can, you shift to peer over your shoulder where your husband stands with his eyebrows twisted together. “Why did he send me a video.”

He presses play, immediately setting off your fight or flight response and mentally mumbling off a thank you for the kitchen counter keeping you steady on your feet. The sound of your moans blast from your husband’s phone accompanied by heavy deep grunts, skin clapping against skin and his phone screen covered by the image of your lower half rippling under the weight of your step-sons brutal unrelenting thrusts.

“What in the—“

“Oh my god!” You shriek, slapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your shock. Another text pops up at the top of the screen not even a minute later.

Jeno- ‘Sorry about that dad, meant to text that to my group chat. My mistake.’

“This fucking kid.” Your husband mutters, continuing to watch the video with squinted eyes. “The time stamp on this is from the other night?”

To your horror, he looks at you with an even more confused expression, swiping the video away before it comes to an end. “Did that little shit have someone over? After I made myself clear—“

“He went out!” You blurt out, nodding and catching yourself with a grip on the counter behind your back. “I didn’t think to mention it, but he went out that night. Don’t know when he came back.”

Your husband nods, glaring back at his phone. “I guess he got that insatiable sex drive from me.” He grins at that, humored by his own intrigue watching the girl his son was hooking up with. “Got my type too.” Leaving out the part about a tight little ass, he leans over to grab yours with a squeeze and plants a kiss on your cheek.

You offer a laugh, forcing it to sound less uncomfortable than you feel. “You should delete that text babe, I don’t like that you could be looking at other girls when I’m right here.”

“Is my sweet angel jealous?” He chuckles, slapping your butt and opening his phone to show you as he deletes the message. “My son could never land himself a woman that comes close to you, believe me. You have nothing to be worried about.” With a kiss to your lips he makes to exit and head to your bedroom to shower, leaving you alone to collapse against the counter and quell down the urge of panic trapped in your chest.

The buzz from your phone halts your breakdown, grasping over the kitchen island for it to see new messages from your step-son.

Jeno- ‘You think daddy may prefer these?’

Attached are different angles, showing off more of the bed you sleep in with your husband every night, catching peeks of your pleasured face. Jeno’s behind you in the thumbnails sharing an equal image of rolled up eyes and lips parted open. You don’t need to hit play to know how obscene each video must be.

Jeno- ‘You’ll be sure to keep your pretty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you, right? I know you’re a smart girl.’

An image of your legs parted open from behind sends next, backside covered in a mess of your step-son’s cum and wet arousal smeared around your thighs.

Jeno- ‘Be good for me mommy.’

[wonryllis]

candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.

PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.

FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.

WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.

WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!

★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!

cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.

. .

“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.

you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.

“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.

“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.

“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.

“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.

his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.

“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.

“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.

it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.

“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.

jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.

he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.

it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.

he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.

if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.

the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.

“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.

there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.

his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.

and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.

“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.

just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.

“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.

he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.

“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.

and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.

fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.

he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.

what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.

running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”

you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.

“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.

“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.

“w- want yo—”

“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.

“want you to touch me too,” you whine.

“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.

“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.

“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.

his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.

“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.

he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.

jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.

“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.

he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.

“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.

“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?

TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hii congrats on 5k!! i love your writing ! if you’re still celebrating could i request a carmy blurb where maybe you’re syd’s besite and carmy has this biggggest crush on you (im talking this mf is Yearning) and she gets on him sooo hard about it like teasing him and reader and him end up together ? TIA <3

Not So Secret.

carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing.

written for my 5k celebration- post here, masterlist here, inbox here.

“You’re gonna stare a hole through her fuckin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

Richie laughs, following Carmens eyeline to where it’s fixed on you.

You’re stood in the restaurant with Sydney, both of you giggling at something she’s showing you on her phone. When you look up, you smile at Carmy, all soft and sweet and like butter wouldn’t melt. He almost melts, a puddle of yearning on the kitchen floor.

Sugar appears next to the two of you, holding out a piece of paper.

“This is a really rough draft of what we kind of want them to look like. Obviously you have full control, but this is kind of the vibe?”

When Carmen mentioned wanting a more personal touch on the menus, Sydney quickly offered your services. You’re the most artistic person she knows, gifted with naturally gorgeous handwriting that almost looks like calligraphy. Plus, she knows how much everyone at The Bear likes you, having been a part of their transformation. It’s a win - win.

“Yeah, I get you. So you want the title words like Dessert in more of a cursive, and then the actual dishes and descriptions in a typeface?”

“Yes! Do your thing. We trust you.”

She gives you a side hug, careful not to hit you with her bump.

“I’m gonna need some nice paper, and probably a new calligraphy pen so I can start from scratch. I’m gonna head to the craft store, and I’ll be back.”

“Carmy will go with you!”

Richie shouts it from the doorway, where he’s been not so subtly watching the conversation. Carmy blushes, clearly caught off guard.

“He needs to go to the craft store too, right Cousin? Good. Go. Bye!”

Carmy’s practically being pushed out the door, uncomfortable and flustered. You smile reassuringly, grabbing your bag and walking over to your car.

“You’re okay with me driving?”

“Course. Shouldn’t I be?”

You laugh, and he can’t help but grin, the sound settling nicely into his ribcage to warm him up.

“I’m a good driver, I promise. Despite what Sydney might say.”

He looks worried but gets in anyway, ever trusting you and anything you do.

He can’t help but sneak glances at you as you drive. You’re completely focused on the road in front, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Carmy feels heat bloom across his chest at the action, wishing he could reach out and release it for you before you draw blood.

A text chimes through the air, startling you both. You press the button on your steering wheel so your car can read the message out loud.

From Sydney: Carmy. Tell her immediately or I’ll lock you in the walk in freezer. Sick of you acting like a lovesick puppy. This is your chance. Don’t blow it, asshole. We’re all tired.

Both of you freeze, your hands tightening on the wheel. Carmy wants to throw himself out of the moving car, but decides against it at the last minute.

You pull the car into the craft store parking lot, choosing a space and yanking the handbrake on. You turn to him, looking at him for the first time since the bombshell.

He’s blushed all over, chest heaving and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You almost want to reach out and release it for him, before he draws blood.

“Carmy.”

“I think, uh, yeah, I just - that was clearly sent to the wrong person. Not meant for you.”

You laugh, suddenly, and it spooks Carmy so much that he jumps out of his skin.

“Yeah, Carm. That I figured.”

He laughs with you then, unsure and nervous. You reach out and place a hand on his knee, trying to calm him down. It just makes his heart lurch.

“What’s Syd talking about? Tell me what?”

He looks down at his lap, hands knotted together.

“I think you know.”

“Wanna hear you say it,” you whisper.

He finds the courage to meet your gaze, taking a deep breath.

“I like you. So much. I can’t stop talking about you to anyone and everyone that’ll listen - to the point that everyone at The Bear gives me so much shit for it. Sydney won’t get off my back, either. She says I’m ‘yearning’.”

You chuckle, rubbing patterns into the material of his jeans with your thumb.

“They’ve all made bets,” he continues, “about if I’ll ever tell you or not.”

“Who bet on you? And who against?”

“Syd and Richie against me. Marcus too. Tina and Sugar are on my side. Not sure why.”

“Wanna make Tina and Sugar some money?”

He quirks a brow questioningly, eyes going wide when you lean over the centre console and plant your hands on either side of his face. You’re so close to him that your breaths tangle together, one set of lungs working overtime.

“Kiss me, Carm.”

He doesn’t think twice, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His hands find your back, tugging you into him as much as the limited space allows.

You whine when he bites at your lip gently, and he has to pull away to take a steadying breath before he passes out.

“You should get your eyes checked.”

He tries to process for a moment.

“Huh?”

“You must be blind if you can’t see how much I like you, Carm. How much I’ve always liked you.”

He grins at you, bright and white, and you shake your head before leaning in to kiss him again.

When you don’t make it back into the restaurant that day, everyone has never been happier to not see the both you.

[doki-doki-imagines]

I want to make a request ^_^

I have a suggestion where the men come home and the air smells so good! They hear their s/o in the kitchen and they find her cooking… with nothing but an apron on. Can you write how Bi Han, Johnny, Kenshi, Raiden and Liu Kang please?

Bi-Han: -He doesn't even notice you at first, walking to his room to wear something more comfortable. -Then, while Bi-Han walks, he suddenly stops. A cartoon-ish sparks appears and eyes get wide. Are you- -He steps back and finally notices your body, your back…naked. -"Oh, you finally noticed Bi-Han!" You turn around, wooden spoon in your hand and a wide smile adorning your face. -Your front is covered by a frilly apron. Something is written on it, but Bi-Han simply doesn't care. He prefered the back. -"So you have nothing to say? Don't I look good?" You sing sang, twirling the wooden spoon near Bi-Han's face. -"I have a better way to use that spoon." He thinks, imagining your ass already red. -"O-Oh. Well, I suppose it wouldn't be bad." You break eye contact looking down, suddenly shy. -Damn, he must have said that out loud. -Well, Bi-Han would be really stupid to let this occasion slip. "And I'm not" this time, he just thinks, big cold hands already on your waist, lips on yours.

Johnny Cage: -Another one that doesn't see you at first, and then realisation hit him the second he is changing in his room. -Runs to you and bask in the sight. -Fuck, Johnny knows you have a cute ass, but that bow at the top really makes it look like a gift wrapped for him. -He'd like not to say anything, just looking at you while you work in his kitchen, but the desire got him into a chokehold. -"Heyyy" Voice deep and hands sliding down your back. "Hey! Wanna taste?" You say cheerfully, wooden spoon near his lips. -Johnny's eyes widened in surprise but nodded at your proposal, eyes closing to taste fully your scrumptious cooking. -But his lips don't find food, but your lips. Tongue already prodding to open him up. -Things escalate pathetically quick. Don't worry about burning the food! You won't reach the bedroom so you'll notice if something is wrong. -Not that you will be in the right mind to care about it.

Kenshi Takahashi: -When he comes back from work, his nose leads him to the kitchen, sniffing the aroma of delicious food. -"What is my sweet cook making?" He says, mouth near your ear while his hands massage your…bare shoulders? -"Mh? Are you wearing a top?" "No dear. Just an apron. Can you feel it?" You turn around and grasp his wrist, moving his hand directly on your chest. -Kenshi sucks in air before blood starts to flow way too fast to be physiological in his blood vessels. -The apron is all lace, he recognizes the texture, and it must be thin since he can touch your erect nipple underneath. -"Cat got your tongue?" "No, my mouth is watering, I know the sight in front of me is delicious." Kenshi gasps out. -You kiss him, and soon he pulls you down on the floor, but not before groping around to close the handles of the kitchen stove. -You need no distraction.

Raiden: -He walks straight into the kitchen after work, ready to prepare the meal for both of you or help you out. -But Raiden gets zapped at the sight! Your sugar paper colored apron, full of ribbons, catching all his attention. Mostly because you aren't wearing anything else. -"Do you need help?" His voice unaffected, but his eyes are fully concentrated on your body, sharps like daggers (maybe he hopes he'll be able to tear the apron down with his intense gaze). "Yes, Raiden. Thank you." You smile back. -You cook with no interruption, Raiden doesn't help much, his eyes fixed on your body rather than on the stoves. -You both sit, dishes in front of you, warm an inviting. -"Can I compliment you, Raiden?" "For what?" "Your self-control." He chuckles, understanding perfectly. -"What do I have to do to make you lose control? Don't I look nice enough?" Raiden gasps loud at your foolishness. "I just didn't want to cross any boundary, but believe me-" His eyes get darker, pupils black pools you can dive into "You look absurdly hot. Come here." Raiden growls out. -You are ready to sit on his lap, to encircle his hips with your legs, but Raiden stops you, clicking his tongue. -His index finger points at his knee, tapping on it. -"You have to pay for teasing me the entire evening. Show me how desperate you are for me." -You nod, mouth dry. -You don't mind this side of Raiden.

Liu Kang: -He knows you will do that, he saw it. Liu Kang awaits, patience is the virtue of the strong. -And damn Liu Kang is really strong. -So, when it finally happens, Liu Kang's smile goes from one ear to the other, his chest rising up and down after a heavy breath. -You turn around, smirk on your face. Smirk that fades quick when you notice Liu Kang's expression; he knew about this. -"You look wonderful." "And you should stop spoiling surprises!" You say angrily, as scary as a pomeranian showing his teeth in Liu Kang's eyes. -The only scary thing is the wooden spoon you are twirling under his nose that may stain his white shirt. -"You are right, dear one. But it just happened! Me and Geras were looking around-" "No excuses, mister!" Now the wooden spoon point straight at his nose, the surprise silencing Liu Kang. -But not for long. -"You are right, I have to ask for forgiveness." Liu Kang says, getting on his knees, while his hands slide down your waist. -"Liu, what are you- Hey!!" You shout in surprise. You didn't expect your boyfriend to lift up the end of your apron, his fingers pinching the cloth up. -Your naked legs, and not only, are in front Liu Kang, that has to keep himself from licking his lips. -"Now is time for the sinner to pay for his mistakes." Liu Kang's hands rub your legs and his head get close to your sex, your apron now covering his head. -You can feel him, but not see what is going on. -The sinner paid well his redemption.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Blood Sugar

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: You have a hypo during a match

Your sugar levels were fine at the start of the match.

You'd checked them before you went out. They were fine and it's not like your diabetes were a new thing. You knew how to control them.

"Looking good?" Alessia asks as you press your monitor against the patch attached to your arm.

It takes a few seconds for it to flash up but you nod.

"Good."

She grins, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Excellent. Can't have one of our midfielders out of it. Who else will feed me balls?"

You roll your eyes. "Don't act like I'm the only one doing my job."

Lessi pinches your cheek. "But you're my favourite! Look at you! All cute and tiny!"

"Leave me alone!"

You try to shove her away but she just holds onto you firmer.

You'd known Alessia for years. You used to live next door to each other before she went to college in America and she'd been obsessed with you ever since you got placed into her arms as a baby.

She'd been overjoyed to see you on the team sheet for the Euro's and then now for the Finalissima. It helped, of course, that you and Alessia had racked up the most assist to goal pairings on the entire team.

"Leave her alone, Less," Leah says with an eye roll," We need her in tip-top shape, not looking like a tomato."

Alessia huffs as you put away your glucose monitor and dart around her, taking refuge with Keira and Lucy. You stick your tongue out at her as you pass.

You feel good during the first half, feeding the ball to Tooney, who scores. You feel good during halftime too, though you forget to check your glucose monitor.

You'd had it in your hand ready and waiting but Mary had caught you in conversation for the entirety of the break and it had completely slipped your mind.

Things took a turn for the worst about halfway through the second half. Your arms suddenly felt too heavy for your body and your mouth had gotten very dry, very quickly.

You sway on your feet and just manage to get the ball out from under your feet and to Keira to run up to Brazil's half. You stumble a little bit.

You're sweating now too, badly. You're sweating too much even for someone who has been on the pitch for nearly ninety minutes. You can feel your legs shaking too and you have to back up to keep your footing.

"Hey, what's going on? Is something wrong?"

The thick scouse accent from behind you means you've bumped into Alex and you practically go limp against her. She notices that too and immediately makes sure you stay upright.

Your head flops back like your neck can no longer support it. It's probably for the best because your vision has gone blurry and your head is swimming.

It takes all your concentration to move your lips in some semblance of words even though it comes out all garbled and slurred.

"'m goin' to pass out soon," You manage to say," Low sugar, I thin'." You draw in a ragged breath. "Meds have got...got..."

"Hey!" Alex shakes you. "The medics have got a...?"

"Gotta gluca...a gluca-"

You don't get to finish your sentence because you got fully limp now. Alex lays you on the ground, gesturing wildly to the medics and to the ref and to everyone who will see.

Leah's the first person to come skidding in, her hand immediately going to your pulse.

"What happened?!"

"I dont know!" Alex replies," She suddenly went all funny. She's sweating buckets! Er..." She shakes her head as she tries to clear her thoughts. "She said something about the medics having a...a gluca-something? I don't know. She passed out before she could finish."

"A glucagon injection," Alessia says as she comes running in as well," Fuck, her sugar levels must have tanked."

"She's right," The first medic says, shoving a glucose monitor onto your sensor," These are low. It's a wonder she didn't pass out earlier."

No one's really listening to him, least of all Alessia, who's rummaging through the first aid kit in search of something. Another medic is waving for a stretcher and a third one is pulling up the bottom of your shorts and cleaning off the top of your thigh with a cotton swab doused in alcohol.

"And she didn't hit her head?" The fourth medic is asking Alex, who shakes her head.

"No. She stumbled a bit but I caught her. She didn't hit anything. Just passed straight out in my arms."

Leah doesn't really know what else to do but stare. The whole team has joined them, forming a huddle around your unconscious body to block the cameras from seeing.

It's a pretty severe thing happening because the officials have even let Sarina on the pitch and she has joined the huddle with the rest of the staff to keep your privacy.

When Leah manages to tear her gaze from you, it lands on Alessia. She's at your other side, ripping open a small plastic box in a hurry. She uncaps a small glass bottle of powder and stabs a syringe into it, pushing all of the liquid into it.

She shakes the bottle a few times before turning it upside down and drawing it all back into the syringe.

"You need to roll her over once it's in," She says and Leah and a few of the medics immediately grab parts of you to pull on.

"Alessia," The first medic says," Do you need me to do this?"

"I've done it before!" Alessia snaps," As soon as I take the needle out, roll her in case she throws up. Okay? One. Two. Three!"

The needle finds a home in the top of your thigh, the area that had been disinfected. Alessia jabs the needle in and pushes down. As soon as she takes it out, Leah tugs on your shoulder to get you on your side.

"I need to come off," Alessia says to Sarina as you're carefully loaded onto a stretcher," I have to be with her. She'll be disorientated when she wakes up."

"Go," Sarina says," Be with her."

The match ends in a penalty shootout but everyone seems to be in the same mind because the medal ceremony is delayed until after you've been checked.

You're looking a lot better when Leah and the others burst into the physio's room. You're sitting upright with Alessia by your side, forcing a sugary drink down your throat.

It's clear that this has been going on for a while because there's another empty can of your favourite nearby and a packet of haribos in your hand.

"You scared us," Leah says.

"Did we win?"

"No talking!" Alessia snaps," Drink! All of it!"

You flash an amused smile at Leah but do as you're told.

"We won," Mary confirms," Penalty shootout but we did it. Could have done without the scare though."

"Sorry," You say with a wince," If it helps, I didn't plan it."

"Thank god for that," Alex mutters," Because that wasn't fun, kid. I thought you were dying."

"Just a bad hypo," You say and Lessi swats you.

"Stop making fun of dangerous situations," She scolds," I don't like having to give you injections so often."

You roll your eyes. "You've done it twice in my entire life!"

"Three times now! You're going to give me a heart attack one day."

"Well, can you have that heart attack later? We've got medals to collect."

[anantaru]

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, virgin! xiao & unexperienced xiao, oral (male! receiving)

xiao gulps down the tensed knot in his throat, a sickly sweet blush cloaking his embarrassment as you slowly roll down his boxers, eyes narrowing in concentration.

you allow yourself a slight tease and mouth wet kisses along his v-line— a whisper of authority suffusing his body as you watch his cock throb against his stomach, messing him up with his pre dribbling down the pink tip.

his eyelids flinch at the first touch of your finger pads glissading across the painful erection, and xiao winces through desperate need when you take him in your hand.

a slight smirk manifests at your expressive lips as you lazily fist his cock up and down up and down, slowly, never losing eye contact, so you could read the reactions on his pale skin and whether xiao truly enjoyed himself.

this entire situation was so sweet, you think, starting from the sweetness of sugar to everything that brings forth sweetness to your soul— how he tenses at each and every flutter of your hand fisting him hard, helplessly bites down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from spilling any embarrassing sounds.

"you like it?" you tease, and the sound of your voice straight up vibrates his blood, stirred thick between his legs as you use the tip of your tongue to kitty lick the oozing pre off his cock-head before softly engulfing the tip between your lips.

"yeah.." xiao murmurs in that low, rich tone— that he'd always change to in serious situations.

it's so unbelievably sexy and you find yourself get aroused at the thought— your drenched panties peaking from below your skirt when you witness how someone as mighty and powerful as a yaksha, could suddenly switch up the very moment you touch him like that.

"please-," xiao moans obediently, "please, do m-more, please—," one hand trapping your shoulder in its hold as you, for a swift, searing moment, stop suckling on his tip when xiao instantly sucks in a sharp breath in response, and exhales an illicit rush of anticipation right after.

"yeah?" you coo, his cock sore and hard, twitching beneath the tight grip of your palm as you trail your hand down before slowly inserting him past your plump lips, smooth tongue threatening to pierce through his self control and actually make him cum the second you'd hollow your cheeks.

but xiao doesn't want to embarrass himself, he thinks he needs to proof himself while not knowing that you actually like that special side of him— a much softer, more exposed way of him expressing himself, or revealing what turned him on.

you're so content in pleasuring him with your mouth— those parted lips of yours were addictive and a sweetness of passion, burning against the thin skin on his cock as you drag down your tongue to mouth wetly across his length, the thickness of his shaft forcing your lips open indulgently.

everything for the darling yaksha, right? until he flexes his hips so desperately fast with a rumbling hum from his throat, sneakily grinding his erection into your wet warmth and hoping you would relieve him from the painful ache on his cock.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[beemovieerotica]

i think since a lot of people are recovering from both societal expectations and personal struggles with unhealthy dieting (me included) there's been a big swing in the opposite direction on here of "eat food that tastes good" "if it gives you energy then that's all that matters"

research is still ongoing into how processed food additives can cause pronounced gut microbiome shifts toward inflammatory/disease-causing states -- and a groundbreaking study showed that if even you're eating identical nutrient + fat + sugar content from "fast food" versus fresh food, fast food has measurably worse effects on common health markers in your blood work (possibly from the additives as well)

it's one of the reasons i'm constantly talking about dietary fiber on here as the easiest and cheapest way to protect your gut microbiome amidst the fact that, yeah, the most convenient option in a lot of cases is just stopping off at a drive thru after work and ordering what your body's craving

the solution will never be an all-or-nothing self-flagellating approach where you're vowing to never ever eat [X] food and if you do then you've fucked up etc etc

the solution is to genuinely keep in mind that companies who sell us cheap processed foods or mass-distributed fast foods to their restaurants are going to take short cuts in preparation and preserving their product for the sake of the bottom line. they're going to use additives and compounds for which the concentrations in their foods are not fully disclosed and which the FDA research is limited.

[she-is-ovarit]

Please hear me.

Being tired isn't normal. It doesn't matter that you're aging. Being fatigued is a serious sign.

It might be difficult to judge "normal tired" from "bad tired". Rule of thumb is that if you notice that other people seem to be on another plane of existence with alertness, you're not "normal tired".

I slept for 10-12 hours a day at least and still was tired for most of the day but "functioned" (went to work).

It turns out it wasn't just one thing. It was a lot of things. I went on liquid vitamins first because that's all I had energy for—to throw money at something that can be delivered to me. And it was crucial. I went off my heart medication after my doctor let me know my active heart rate was way too low (prior to the vitamins). I felt super improved and this went from feeling super improved to extremely improved after I began to eat more healthy fats (avocados, eggs, nuts, vegetarian-friendly animal products). I cannot emohasize the eating more fats thing enough. Did you know that due to our biology women are supposed to have way more healthy fats than what we're typically told?

I had struggled with other symptoms I brushed off as normal too. My hands and feet being cold all the time. Turns out this wasn't normal. How many women and girls have cold hands and feet constantly? I was "adoringly clumsy". Balance issues from vitamin B12 deficiency. Foot cramps. Magnesium deficiency. Generalized anxiety disorder. Still have it, but significantly improved because my body isn't fighting for it's life. Lack of focus/concentration issues to the point where I worried I had ADHD or something since that's all I know about that mental health condition.

Constant cravings I blamed on emotional eating. Increasing my healthy fat intake all about cured this—helped more than protein. I began to lose weight when I increased my healthy fats because I was no longer seeking out sugar or bad fats. Iron deficiency and vitamin D3 deficiencies were also confirmed on blood tests before I started liquid vitamins.

When I went off my heart med and bought those dumb electrolyte packets for my water, my arrhythmia is now hardly noticeable physically.

And to circle back—I am awake. And I sometimes break down and cry because I can't believe how I was functioning now that I understand what having energy feels like. I didn't know. I didn't know there was even anything wrong with me. I thought I was just a tired person. That being tired was normal to being female and aging.

Chronic fatigue is extremely serious. It's not normal. You're not just a tired person.

[becomingthatgirl111]

the "superfoods" you should incorporate into your diet

first of all, what are superfoods, and why are they so beneficial to our health? are those that in addition to feeding us have beneficial properties for health and are 100% natural, their origin is mainly vegetable and raw consumption, have a high content of fiber, minerals, proteins and vitamins, many of this help strengthen the immune system and promise the extension of a long healthy life.

and these are some of the foods you should incorporate into your diet.

goji berries: high in vitamins and minerals

acai berries: beneficial for overall health and boost performance. high in antioxidants, vitamins, minerals, and essential fatty acids.

chia seeds: high in vegetable fiber, omega-3 fatty acids, and high-quality protein.

ginger: it is attributed with properties against digestive discomfort and headaches. it also has an anti-inflammatory effect.

avocado: high in healthy fats, antioxidants, it has numerous micronutrients among which are vitamins C, vitamin B5, and vitamin K.

green tea: accelerates metabolism, detoxifying.

matcha: rich in antioxidants, polyphenols, and EGG, responsible for helping to protect against heart disease, helps regulate blood sugar, and accelerates metabolism.

quinoa: high protein concentration, rich in fiber and vitamins.

spinach: high concentrations of vitamins C and A, flavonoids, omega-3.

curcuma: increases serotonin production, helps regulate menstrual cramps and headaches.

walnuts: source of omega-3, protects our heart and cholesterol, we will get protein, vitamin E, fiber, healthy fats and lots of energy.

broccoli: very low caloric intake, rich in vitamin A and beta-carotene (a great antioxidant), vitamin C, fiber and folic acid.

seaweed: all are alkalizing and a good source of dietary fiber, antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, and antioxidant properties. contain healthy fatty acids and provide plenty of calcium, iron, and iodine.

and many more…! i am getting into the world of healthy eating to incorporate it into my day-to-day and I will continue to bring you posts related to this so that you also know about it and you can have a really healthy diet 🤍

this article has been written with the help of different sources.

[milky-aeons]

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍

౨ৎ . . . the ways in which DAZAI OSAMU and CHUUYA NAKAHARA express their more gentle nature, but only when it comes to you.

warnings: established relationship, fem!reader, swearing, suggestive talking, crowd-anxiety, mentions of depression, w.c 696

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ gravity — susanne sundfør ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 . . .

For a terrifying mafia crook, your Nakahara Chuuya definitely took being well mannered to an entire new level. But perhaps, that side of him was only reserved for you.

Even before you inevitably became an item — the infamous General and you, a private mafia secretary — you noticed how he never forgot the nuances. Whenever you both walked together in the same hallway; he'd always make sure to hold the door open for you. And if you were too far behind, he'd wait, holding the doorframe ajar with his long leather-bound fingers. He'd never bark at you to hurry the fuck up, like you've heard him quip at some of his underlings. He was patient. And in those moments, secretly, you took your time — stretching the precious encounter out for as long as possible.

Of course, you had no idea he was doing the exact same thing.

And when you did start dating, Chuuya picked the lavish, most impressive restaurants to take you to. He pulled up and got out of the driver-seat door first, only to saunter around to your side and open the car door for you. He always offered his arm. He always whispered in your ear how beautiful you looked and that he had the best seat in the house waiting for you.

Chuuya liked to spoil you, you had noticed quite quickly. But even above that, the mafia General liked to make you feel special a whole lot more. Loved, cherished, like you were the only girl in the entire world. And in that restaurant where he reserved the best seat in the house, Chuuya circled around until he stood behind you and pulled out your chair. He was being a gentleman, of course, but he also leaned over to whisper against the shell of your sensitive ear:

"But I think you'd look even more beautiful with that dress off of ya. But let's get dinner first, hm? You'll need your energy."

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 . . .

The first thing you learned about Armed Detective Agent Dazai Osamu — he was a womaniser. And a damn good sweet-talker. And had large, mocha-coloured eyes that shifted between ochre and gold in the sunshine.

You never really stood a chance.

The first thing Dazai learned about you, was that you took your coffee with three spoonful's of sugar. That you bit the sides of your nails while concentrating. But your expressions — they always reminded him of crystal glass. You were so transparent, so easy to look through, to judge. But in that transparency lay a type of genuineness. In a world where Dazai struggled to belong, he found you. You did not give him a reason to live — but you held his sinful, blood-stained hands without flinching and reminded him to eat his meals on time.

He never really stood a chance, either.

You hated crowds.

Dazai felt your entire body tense when you both rounded the corner of the Agency's building, only to be greeted by a gaggle of excited reporters. The ADA had recently cleared a high-profile case involving a Gifted government official — and although Director Fukuzawa had warned about the potential backlash from the media; it was still a surprise. The blood drained from your face at the sight of so many people; swarming you, suffocating you. There was too many — you couldn't escape, how would you—

Then, there was something warm and firm; flattening against the small of your back. You gasped out of the stupor, eyes flying up to Dazai gazing down at you.

"I'm here," Was all he said, his voice a soothing velvet. "Don't concentrate on anything else."

The soft-spoken order was a lullaby, a balm to your erratic heart. Owlishly, you nodded your head once, surrendering your trust to this enigmatic man and all that you loved about him. And so he took your other hand and began to lead you forward — the entire time, listening to his musical humming vibrating in his chest that sometimes lifted to say;

"Now, now, I know you are all excited — but please direct all your queries to our media consultant Kunikida Doppo-kun! Me and my colleague are simple office workers, after all~"

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

[ectologia]

do you have a lil drabble on the brain abt hawks being a lil obsessed w his coworker?

TOP-DOG

KEIGO TAKAMI + FEMALE READER

WARNING: DUBCON/NONCON, WORK-PLACE ABUSE, POWER IMBALANCE, FORCED BREEDING

Oh, I like this one.

Seems very plausible indeed.

Being The No. 2 Pro-Hero Hawks’s personal assistant.

He’ll have you following him everywhere, trailing behind like a little puppy with your little clipboard as he pads about his agency on the phone. Cleaning up his swiftly moulting feathers, plucking the flitting red bristled-brushes from the air and floor after every step.

He’ll turn on his heel to take a subtle glance at your rear, every time you bend down to scoop up one of his floating feathers, rolling a drooling tongue over the grooves of his teeth once he catches that leaky mound of pretty PA pussy hiding under your slitted pencil skirt.

He likes his coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar. Is it weird to kiss your boss good morning? No, baby. Of course not, now come ‘ere and give your favourite hero a little peck.

He’ll have you placing a nice, wet, sloppy kiss against his stubbled jaw while he sips his coffee, tapping a foot triumphantly as he palms the tent in his cargos with the other hand.

He’s smug, sleazing a cocky grin when he catches you off guard and quickly snaps his head to the side, mashing his lips against yours for a little split-second smooch.

“What’s wrong, chickadee? I’m just showing my favourite assistant how much I appreciate all her hard-work.”

He’ll mouth witty comments and make faces at you during meetings, chuckling behind his palm once he sees your frigid expression unfold beneath his charm.

While you giggle away at his constant innuendos, he’ll have his phone shuttering frantically beneath the table, snapping photo after photo of that tiny wet breeding-slot in between your knees.

You’re such a good little personal assistant for him, he’ll reward you with a gentle massage, kneading and rolling the balls of your shoulders as you attempt to concentrate on the 20 manila folders piled sky-high on-top of your desk.

“Oh, hun.” He’s humming, spidering the thick leather of his gloves down the apex of your ribs until he’s pressing against the small of your back. “You’re so tight here. You must be exhausted, huh?”

“Is your favourite boss working you too hard lately?” His thumb swipes lazily over the two subtle dips just above your waistband.

You’re shaking your head in a panicked frenzy, adjusting the sliding papers that threaten to topple off of your desk. “Uhm.. No, sir..”

“Good girl.” A flat palm comes to tussle your hair about as he strokes you like a prized pet.

After a while, he’ll decide he wants to make things even more personal with you.

You find a grand bouquet of blood-red roses on your desk, tied with a dainty pink ribbon. The man himself, standing stoic and proud with a sun-swallowing grin etched along his handsome features as he takes the plunge and asks you to finally be his.

You’re frowning because you don’t know what to say.

He’s smiling because he knows you can’t say no.

Because now he’s gonna’ take you, face-down, pussy-up on his desk and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.

Because he’s your boss, and if he says he wants to pump his babies into your tight little womb and blow your belly up with his chicks, you’re gonna fucking take it.

Hard.

[notjustjavierpena]

Perfect

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent. The first part of dark and twisted sugar daddy Joel. Beware of the tags. This is NOT okay behavior. 

Summary: Joel Miller, a walking menace, buys you pretty things in exchange for shoving his cock in you. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, dub-con, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink

Word count: 1.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49786882

Perfect

You stand in front of the full-body mirror to hold up a pair of golden earrings to your ears, catching the way the beautiful droplet-shaped diamonds hanging from the bottom reflect in the chandelier’s light. You crinkle your nose immediately, snobbishly, and put them down in their designated spot in your vanity’s drawer.  

You’ve acquired a particular taste for pretty things over the last few months. The people at the reception he is taking you to would probably fawn over the price of the earrings that you have just discarded but when money isn’t worth worrying about, all the pairs in your collection become a matter of taste instead of flash. 

You settle on a simple pair of small, thick gold hoops. They fit the blood-red dress perfectly, which you smooth out with your manicured hands to erase any flaw that he doesn’t deserve. Not when he has been so good to you, and saved you from being a victim to everyday tedious work and boredom. 

The hoops dangle slightly as you move to sit in front of the vanity. They are only a few weeks old and handmade by a goldsmith that had been recommended to you. The man, old and experienced, had created them from nothing right before your eyes, and whilst they had only been one out of many extravagant gifts during the short trip to France, they had stuck out the most and have since become your favorites. 

“I was hopin’ you would choose those tonight,” Joel’s voice suddenly washes over your unsuspecting form. You jump slightly but accept every crash like they are heaven. You find his eyes in the mirror, smile softly at him but he seems too busy weighing his words to smile back. 

He strides across the carpeted floor and you can hear that he has yet to put on shoes. Soon, you feel his calloused hands rest on your bare shoulders, thumbs starting to rub circles into your skin whilst you try concentrating on putting on lipstick. His hands are warm and rough, palms belonging to someone who is hardworking and respected. 

“I got ya something,” he adds after a moment of admiring the sight of you getting ready. You turn your head to look up at him with doe-eyes but he cups your chin to turn your face back to the mirror, “Close your eyes.”

You do as you are told, placing your hands in your lap like an obedient thing. Your hearing works overtime when you hear shuffling behind you, Joel digging into his pocket and fumbling with something for a moment.

An impatient noise leaves you. 

“Don’t look or ya won’t get it,” he warns softly. 

You gasp as metal hits your skin, and you immediately know that it is a necklace. You open your eyes to watch it hang around your neck in the mirror, a hand coming up to touch it. It feels warm from having been in Joel’s hand, and when your eyes drop to look at it properly, you smile shyly. It is absolutely breathtaking. 

“It’s beautiful,” you study its small gold links and the gold cylinder that lays right over your jugular notch. It is so simple and elegant, “Thank you, Joel.”

“I need you to be perfect tonight,” he tells you instead of saying that you are welcome. The necklace comes with an expectation then. 

“You just worry about the other guests, and I’ll worry about looking beautiful,” you joke and go back to fixing your red lipstick with a Q-tip. 

“Is this a joke to you?” Joel asks, voice harsh out of nowhere. 

Your heart jumps in your chest, “What? No.”

“Then why are you actin’ like it?” His nostrils flare. 

“I wasn’t—“

“Shut up.”

His large palm settles between your shoulder blades and then he roughly pushes you forward. Your elbows bang into the surface of your vanity, head nearly knocking into the mirror at the surprise of his shove. It almost feels like it already has with the way your head swims. 

He goes rougher in his push and everything on top comes tumbling down; makeup brushes, a tray of nail polish, jewelry boxes, and even an expensive new bottle of perfume that luckily doesn’t break because it is saved by the soft carpet.

Your hands scramble for something to hold onto. Joel lets out a condescending laugh behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to regain your composure. 

He kicks the vanity chair out from underneath you which tumbles to the side, and your knees hit the floor as a result. It causes you to sob but instead of cussing him out, you stay silent and thank God that your chosen dress will be able to cover the bruises that will appear soon. 

“I was just finishing getting ready,” you try to make him show mercy the second he hauls you up to stand on your feet. He holds you against the table with his iron grip and when he puts one foot between yours, you can feel his hardening cock press into the back of your thigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“I said shut the fuck up,” he growls, free hand sliding around the front of your throat to cup your chin once again. He yanks your head upwards so he can look at you in the mirror as he speaks, “If you’re gonna misbehave, you fuckin’ take what I give ya instead of givin’ me excuses.”

You don’t try to argue that you had meant nothing by your comment. Whatever Joel says is what goes when he is angry, and at this point of your interaction you know better than to take his words as anything else but gospel. The game is over for you, and it was long before he even entered the bedroom. It’s been over since he fucked your lights out the first time. 

“No!” You squeak as the stitching of your dress rips when Joel’s hand curls around the hem to pull it up your thighs. He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that it was tailored to you just days ago, ruining it without batting his eyes. 

The hand on your chin comes up to cover your mouth. You whimper pathetically into his palm, shaking your head as he tauntingly tears the seams of your dress even more. 

Finally, he settles it around your shaking hips. You are wet already due to the power, the carelessness, the harsh nature of his every move. He sighs in annoyance at the sight of your garter belt, “You make things so fuckin’ difficult f’me.”

A finger curls around your lace panties, and he tugs until they also come apart under his touch. You had wanted to give him a show when you had gotten home later, but he is spoiling the surprise with every passing second. Spoiling it by destroying it. 

“Please, Joel,” you say but it is muffled into his hand. 

“The more ya struggle, the less I’ll care,” he says simply and you still in his grip. When he is satisfied with his work on your clothes, removing any barrier that’ll separate his cock from your cunt, he moves to undo his belt and zipper. A grunt leaves his lips as the cool air of the room hits the sensitive skin of his dick. 

He shoves inside of you without warning with an animalistic sound. It stings painfully as he forces your walls to adjust to him, but you soothe yourself by biting down on the flesh of his palm. He responds by digging his hand further into your mouth, forcing it open even more until your jaw strains. 

When he starts fucking you harshly, you know for a fact that by the end of this, you will have to start getting ready all over again. You cannot see the red lipstick in the mirror, but you know it is smeared since its taste mixes with the salt of Joel’s skin. Your eyes sting too, wet mascara dripping into them as you cry from the intensity of what is happening to your body. 

He knows you like it like this, you try to convince yourself, he’d never continue if you didn’t like it. 

“Don’t you ever have the audacity to talk back to me again,” he spits venomously, picking up his pace. The edge of the table gnaws into the front of your thighs, and he seems to keep going deeper despite kissing your cervix with every thrust, “That ain’t how this thing works. I don’t want to hear another disrespectful word comin’ out ya mouth when I pay you to be nothing outside of me. You are fuckin’ nothing.” 

Tears of frustration and grief fall from your eyes despite the growing pressure in your lower abdomen. A strong hand settles on your hips. Joel grinds his pelvis into you with a force that makes the table shake, a few other decoration pieces falling off. Your cunt throbs at the thought of him making it up to you by letting you choose new pretty items to replace the broken ones. You push back into him.

“Hah, you dumb slut,” he taunts, landing a painful slap on the curve of your ass. You clench around him at the impact and he nearly becomes unable to finish his sentence, “You love Daddy’s cock that much when it makes you cry?” 

You nod frantically. 

“That’s right,” he says over your shoulder, “Good girl takin’ me every way I want.”

His own moans start to interrupt his speech. He grows more silent, more concentrated on fucking you open until you might collapse. 

You can barely stand anymore, but he shifts to hold your hips with both his hands. As the hand leaves your mouth, you realize how vocal you have become because your screams bounce off the walls and come back at you with a mocking undertone. Look at what he has reduced you to. You are sure the staff can hear you too. Any newcomers will be in the middle of getting talked out of calling the police right now. 

Your every muscle aches by now. He has you on your tippy toes with how hard he goes, and your body cannot fight it anymore. The coil in your belly is just about to snap. 

“I’m gonna— gonna come, Daddy.”

“I knew you would, baby, my perfect girl,” he praises to the point where your stomach swirls with excitement and joy. He lets you come without being mean to you, watching your thighs as they shake and your eyes as they weep fresh tears from relief.

Your fluttering cunt sends him over the edge too. He speaks filthy nonsense, pulsating inside of you until you feel his load spill down your folds from how much he fills you. He pants softly whilst you milk him, aggression seeping from him as he comes down from his high.

“Thank you,” you sob quietly, “Thank you, thank you.”

“Clean up this mess,” he orders after pulling out, one last stab at you, “Staff shouldn’t be responsible for your dirty doin’.”

You fall to your knees as he starts tucking himself back into his dress pants. Your cheek rests on the cool surface of the vanity, and you actively avoid the puddle of saliva you’ve created there. 

“We’re leaving in half an hour,” he says before leaving you to the sound of nothing but your heaving breaths and his come dripping from your cunt. 

Later, after choosing a dress that’s nowhere as beautiful as the red one, you notice a generous number has been inserted into your bank account. He scoffs a ‘perfect’ when you meet him in the garage.

.

.

.

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