#as more than a pure and innocent Mom

[mad-as-a-box-of-frogs]

 Your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed.

Keep Calm and Carry On (12x01): Supernatural (2005-2020) [128/?]

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 2 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex » 【note, there is physical & emotional intimidation in this chapter (from naoya not satoru), this is a form of domestic abuse, reader discretion advised】

ꨄ words: 12.5k

ꨄ a/n. firstly, wow thank you so much for all your kind words on ch 1 :") secondly, this series may be more than 3 chapters (maybe more like 4 or 5?) idk i'm still working out the pacing rn bc i really want the relationship to feel fluid and natural. this chapter ended up being much longer than i anticipated 😅 but as always, i would love to hear your thoughts and hope you enjoy ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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ch 2 // under the spotlight

Becoming a mother makes you realize you can do almost anything one-handed—though honestly, sometimes you wish you had an abundance of limbs.  

Especially now. Your apartment is a whirlwind of activity – scattered toys, half packed bags and the remnants of breakfast still on the table. You’re in the middle of prepping your daughter’s essentials, trying to make sure you don’t forget anything important. Her preferred snacks, extra clothes, diapers, and a few of her favorite toys all stuffed into a bag.

“Mama, mama, look!”

Haru’s innocent voice rings out like a melody amidst your morning clamor. Halting your frantic movements, you’re drawn to her face, lit up with pure joy as she holds up her beloved Pikachu plushie. The bright yellow toy bounces in her hands as she makes it dance.

Her innocence provides a brief, much-needed, calm to the storm of nerves brewing inside of you. After all, today’s the day you’re meeting with Satoru and his lawyer to finalize the marriage contract. Your marriage—weird.

It feels odd saying it, the word foreign on your tongue. Marriage is a concept you never thought you’d be rushing into, especially not like this.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d marry Naoya Zenin.

Back then, you were so in love with his charm, his confidence, and the way he seemed to have everything figured out. But reality had a way of shattering those illusions.

His charm turned to arrogance, his confidence to control. It wasn’t long before you realized he cared more about owning you than loving you, and now you’re left with nothing but heartache and a broken family.

But amidst your turmoil you found a precious gift—Haru.

Her infectious giggle is a stark contrast to the chaos within your mind—it always manages to pull you back from your whirlwind of worries.

You’ll do anything in your power to keep her smiling, even if that means marrying Satoru Gojo, the man who is guilty for an abundance of your headaches.

With a deep breath, you zip up your duffle bag and turn to Haru who is lovably babbling to Pikachu.

“Come here, sweetie,” you say, kneeling down with her small jacket in your hand.

She toddles over to you, clutching her comforting plushie, eyes wide and curious.

Easing her tiny arms into the sleeves, you gently help Haru into her jacket.

“We’re going to meet some new friends today,” you tell her softly, fastening the buttons with care. “One of them is named Mr. Gojo.”

“Mr. Gojo?” she echoes, face scrunching up in concentration.

Truth be told, you weren't planning on bringing Haru to this meeting, but you’re faced with a lack of options, especially since technically, you’re fired.

Well… temporarily.

Until Satoru rehires you, paying the nanny isn’t feasible with your already stretched finances, Utahime, your ever-reliable friend, is unavailable. Your neighbor, who sometimes steps in to help, is out of town, and your mom is… your mom – as undependable as ever.

At this point you'd rather be caught dead than call Naoya again.

Calling him yesterday, when your nanny bailed, was a moment of pure desperation, a lapse in judgment driven by the chaos of the day and the fear of getting fired. Not your proudest moment.

It’s no surprise he’ll likely use it against you—hold it over your head like a weapon. It’s a pattern you’re all too familiar with.

But today marks the beginning of a new chapter, one that you’re determined to make the best of for both you and your daughter—once this marriage is finalized, you’ll be back to earning a steady income again.

A sigh escapes your lips as you focus back on Haru, her innocent eyes look up at you expectantly.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo,” you repeat, giving her a reassuring smile as you reach down to tie her shoelaces. “We’re going on an adventure today, just you and Mommy.”

“An adventure!” Haru cheers, clapping her hands in unbridled excitement.

Just as you pull the last loop tight, a knock reverberates through the front door, startling you. It’s unexpected, you weren’t anticipating any visitors.

With a deep breath, you twist the handle and pull the door open. The sight that greets you sends a cold wave of dread crashing over you, your heart pounding in your chest.

Speak of the devil—Naoya.

He has an uncanny knack for impeccable timing, always appearing when he’s least wanted.

His presence is as imposing as ever—a smirk crowned on his lips, posture relaxed, hands in his pockets—exuding an air of ownership over everything that’s around him.

As if he owns you.

Damn it. You really can’t deal with this right now; you don’t have the time. Satoru is expecting you, and you need to get moving.

Leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, he surveys you with that annoyingly smug expression plastered upon his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite girls," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The frustration you feel from Naoya is vastly different from what you experience with Satoru. With Satoru, it's harmless—like dealing with a mischievous child. But with Naoya, every sight of him makes you want to flee, as if each encounter is a battle you barely survive. He reopens old wounds that never truly healed, leaving you raw and exposed.

Every fiber of your being screams in protest at the sight of him, but you force yourself to maintain composure—refusing to let him see the effect he has on you.

"What do you want, Naoya? I really don’t have time for this today."

Turning away from him, you begin gathering the last of Haru’s things with brisk, precise movements, making it clear you have no intention of prolonging this interaction.

He steps inside, smirk widening with satisfaction and tone laced with mock concern.

"Just thought I'd drop by and see how you're managing. Got your message. Heard you were looking for a babysitter yesterday.”

As expected—you’re really kicking yourself for calling him. His false sympathy only heightens your irritation, grating on your nerves as the condescension drips from his words like venom.

If you weren’t already leaving, you would slam the door right in his smug face.

Gritting your teeth, you attempt to keep your tone steady, for no one other than Haru.

"We're fine, Naoya. We don’t need your help."

In hopes to end this conversation quickly, you grasp Haru’s hand and attempt to brush past him. But he sidesteps, effectively forbidding your path to the door, looming like an unwanted shadow.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see. How’s that working out for you?” he scowls as he peers through your apartment, “This place is a mess. And you don’t look like you’re dressed for work. Lost your job already?”

His words hit a nerve, you feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"We are managing just fine. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

But he wasn’t going to let you go so easily. His expression darkens, and as you repeatedly try to step past him, he halts you yet again, blocking your way like an insurmountable wall.

"And where exactly are you going? Shouldn't you be at work today?"

"That's none of your business. I really need to go," you retort, lifting your chin assertively as you force your way past him. Your shoulder brushes against his in a deliberate act of defiance.

The moment you cast him aside, he immediately pursues after—but choosing to ignore him, you close the door behind you, turning the lock with a decisive click.

As you start leading Haru towards the elevator, you adopt a brisk pace in hopes to put as much distance between you and Naoya as possible.

But he raises an eyebrow, smirk widening as he traverses after you. You hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway of your apartment complex.

"Oh, I think it is my business. Especially when it concerns my daughter."

Oh, please.

It’s painfully ironic how he pretends to care about Haru only when it suits him.

After you served him child support papers, he had the audacity to demand a DNA test, claiming he needed ‘proof’ that Haru was his. Of course, something like that takes time for the judge to arrange.

He knew that damn well—it was just another ploy to delay the process further.

As anger bubbles up within you, a scoff escapes your lips, teetering on the edge of a bitter laugh.

"Oh, so she’s yours when it’s convenient for you. Don't pretend you care about Haru now. You’ve done nothing but make our lives difficult."

Your movements are sharp and frantic until you finally halt in front of the elevator. Just as you press the button to descend, Naoya’s presence descends over you—suffocating like a dark cloud, his face twisting into a menacing scowl.

"Maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, things wouldn’t be so difficult. You know, if you ever need help, all you have to do is ask," the insincerity in his voice makes your skin crawl—as his words slither into your ears, each syllable is laced with a condescending edge.

You scoff, jabbing the button over and over again with mounting urgency. Can this damn elevator come any faster?

"Help? From you? I'd rather figure things out on my own than rely on your 'help'."

He steps closer, making you feel small and cornered. It’s a familiar tactic he would use to get his way—the accustomed sense of intimidation he used to exert over you returns, chilling your spine.

"Suit yourself. Just remember, you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, you’ll realize you need me again,” his voice drops to a low, threatening whisper, the underlying menace making it clear that he relishes the control he still believes he has over you.

Suddenly, you feel small tiny hands gripping tightly onto your leg. Haru’s wide eyes dart between the two of you, her innocent face reflecting a nervous unease that she can’t fully understand—but you do.

Fuck it. Enough is enough. You can't let this continue any longer—screw the elevator.

With a determined breath, you scoop Haru into your arms, feeling her trembling slightly against you. "Come on, sweetie," you say softly.

Her tiny heart beats against your chest, mirroring your own anxiety. Holding her close, you immediately head towards the stairway, your stride quickening.

But Naoya's presence lingers, his footsteps echoing ominously after you.

“Really, Naoya?”

Oh, this is it. Your patience is wearing thin—he’s like a growth you can’t get rid of.

You feel Haru’s grip tighten around your neck as she buries her face into your shoulder. You have been trying desperately not to yell, for Haru’s sake, but at this point, Naoya is overstepping your boundaries.

“Just go away. The only thing I need from you is to hurry up and finish that damn DNA test,” you shout, refusing to look back as you head towards the stairs. “There was no reason for that bullshit; you know Haru is yours. I know you’re just trying to stall our court date,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration and anger.

Naoya’s eyes gleam with a cold amusement, and the corners of his mouth curl up into a mocking smile.

"Stalling? Hardly. You’re insane, I just want to be thorough. You should understand that, being so meticulous yourself," he sneers, tone derisively sweet.

Finally, you reach the stairway—beginning your descent, Haru clings tightly to you as Pikachu dangles precariously from each hurried step.

"This conversation is over, Naoya,” your voice echoes in the narrow space. “Stay out of our lives. I only want to see you in court."

Naoya contemplates following you, lowering himself a few steps before abruptly stopping. As his voice reverberates through the stairwell, his unsettling demand bounces off the cold concrete walls, chilling you to your core.

"For now, y/n. But remember, this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. You always come crawling back to me one way or another. You’re incapable of anything without me."

There was a time when you believed those words, but you will not fall back into that same vicious cycle.

Choosing not to respond, your resolve is sharpened with one clear goal, getting Haru and yourself out of this building as quickly as possible.

The moment you clear through the lobby door, a shaky sigh escapes your lips. This day is already starting off with a bang—hopefully it goes much better at Satoru’s.

Forcing a smile for your frightened daughter, you try to mask the tears welling up in your eyes—the tremor in your voice quaking.

“Come on honey, let’s go meet Mr. Gojo.”

Time to get this marriage finalized.

ꨄ︎

You had expectations of what Satoru’s house would be like, but even those couldn’t hold a light to the real thing—it’s a stark contrast to the modest apartment you call home.

The meticulously manicured lawn, the pristine arcadian, and the large, ornate door all showcase opulence.

It’s far more luxurious than you had imagined, making you feel distinctly out of place as you step out of your car in your worn jeans and t-shirt, hair pulled up in a lazy bun.

Wait…should you have come dressed businesslike?

But you have Haru—was this supposed to be a professional meeting? Fuck.

On top of everything else, you’re already a few minutes late. Tardiness has become a tiresome trend in your life, one that exhausts you to your very core.

Traversing the entryway, Haru grips your hand tightly as you walk through the stone pathway. Her fingers tremble slightly, perhaps from the unsettling encounter with Naoya, or perhaps from the overwhelming new environment.

Nerves simmer through you once you approach the doorway, but you resolve to mask them. You weren’t going to let Naoya ruin your day—this meeting is your chance to retake control of your life.

As you reach out and press the doorbell, a soft melodic chime resonates, echoing through the spacious foyer beyond.

Within moments, the door swings open, revealing Satoru.

You immediately feel a sense of relief as you observe him dressed surprisingly casual—a fitted blue t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and lean frame, paired with dark jeans that hug his long legs. His snowy hair remains tousled in that effortlessly stylish way, framing his strikingly handsome face.

It’s impossible to advert your eyes as he greets you with that familiarly confident smile curling upon his lips, and those vivid blue eyes, enchanting you with an intriguing glint.

“Hm, late again, I see,” Satoru teases, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if wounded with an exaggerated sigh. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t show up. Here I was, thinking you might divorce me before we even get married—” he stops, lifting his brow as his gaze shifts to the small figure peeking out from behind your legs.

“Well, well, and who is this?”

Haru’s wide eyes are filled with curiosity and apprehension. She peeps out nervously, clutching her plushie’s worn, familiar fabric for comfort.

Satoru’s smile softens as he looks at the little girl, but a twinge of uncertainty tugs at him internally. Children were a mystery to him, their emotions and reactions unpredictable.

What should he say? How should he act?

A flicker of fear crosses his mind—what if he says the wrong thing and makes her cry?

Oh God…

The thought of dealing with a child's tears makes him feel out of his depth, a sensation he’s not accustomed to. Satoru finds himself in unfamiliar territory. He’s used to commanding rooms and negotiating high-stake deals, not interacting with shy children clutching stuffed toys.

But faking confidence has always worked in the business world, and he is determined to make a good impression now.

As you notice Haru’s uncertainty, you gently caress her head, delicately coaxing her out from behind your legs.

"It’s okay, sweetie. This is Mr. Gojo, can you say hi?"

There is an air about you—the gentle ease in your voice, the way you instinctively know how to comfort Haru. It stirs something within Satoru, something he can’t quite place.

All he knows it that now he really doesn’t want to fuck this up.

"I’m really sorry for bringing her along," you begin, tone earnest as you meet Satoru with an apologetic gaze. "I hope it’s okay. I just didn’t have anyone who could watch her today. But she’ll keep to herself during our meeting, I promise."

Satoru’s expression softens further as he looks at Haru, his uncertainty momentarily forgotten. She is so fragile, so docile. In her delicate features, he sees an uncanny resemblance to you—a small reflection of your strength and vulnerability intertwined.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” he reassures softly. Crouching down to her level, his toothy smile is warm and inviting. “Hi there, I’m Satoru. What’s your name?”

Haru looks up at you for reassurance, her small hand tightening around your leg. Encouraged by your nod, she turns back to Satoru and whispers tentatively—

“Haru.”

Satoru grins, captivated by the softness and delicacy of Haru's voice. Though he is uncertain how to connect with a child. His mind races—

What do kids like?

What should he say next?

While his thoughts scramble, a spark of an idea forms the moment he observes Haru clutching Pikachu.

“Nice to meet you, Haru. Do you like Pokémon?”

Haru nods, her grip on the plushie relaxing slightly. There is a subtle warmth behind the apprehension in her eyes as she holds up her Pikachu toy to show Satoru.

“Yes, Pikachu.”

“Pikachu is pretty cool,” he lets out a contemplative hum as he tries to find common ground. A faint nostalgic smile plays on his features. “But you know, Digimon is even better. Have you ever heard of Agumon?”

Haru’s eyes widen with curiosity as she shakes her head, her interest clearly piqued.

Satoru’s inner child shines through—eyes sparkling with a genuine enthusiasm as his lips curl up into a grin. This is his chance to bridge the gap between them.

“Tell ya what, maybe we can watch some Digimon together sometime. How’s that sound?”

You feel Haru’s grip loosen on your leg. A faint smile touches her lips and a quiet giggle escapes as her initial shyness begins to slowly fade.

“Okay.”

There are many thoughts that come to your mind as you watch this interaction play out—the foremost being how unexpectedly gentle Satoru can be with kids. Something about him, that overconfident and sometimes arrogant man you’ve worked beside, feels different now. Almost likable.

Charming, even

But what you really can’t fathom the most is the image of a sophisticated billionaire engrossed in a kids’ cartoon. That concept alone is enough to make you suppress a laugh.

“You’re a fan of Digimon?” you raise an eyebrow.

Satoru stands up, brushing off his knees with a nonchalant shrug and a crooked smile.

“I used to watch it all the time growing up. Please, come in,” he ushers you inside the building, leading you down the grand hall.

Your breath hitches at the sight of the expansive foyer. The high ceiling, polished marble floors, and impressive chandelier casting a warm glow leave you speechless.

Following behind him, you find yourself studying Satoru’s confident strides—the movement of his back, his broad shoulders and the effortless air of authority he exudes. It’s a stark contrast to what you just witnessed moments ago with Haru.

But that alone makes him even more intriguing to you. Satoru can feel a bit like a wild card. Glimpses of tenderness hidden behind feigned aloofness—subtle playfulness followed by an exacting seriousness.

He keeps surprising you.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Digimon fan,” you remark as you follow behind him.

Satoru chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“Guilty as charged.”

You can’t help but notice the way he avoids your gaze—is he perhaps being… bashful?

Oh, this is rich.

You really would need an abundance of limbs to count on your hands the amount of times Satoru has given you shit—making your life a daily torture is his specialty after all. Perhaps that is why you couldn’t resist letting this opportunity pass up.

“Next thing you’ll tell me is that you have a secret stash of Digimon cards somewhere,” you snort.

Satoru lets out a contemplative hum.

“Well, I did have a pretty impressive collection back in the day. Who knows, maybe I still have them tucked away in a drawer somewhere.”

“Seriously?” you are unable to hide the amusement in your voice. “You, with a collection of Digimon cards? That’s something I’d pay to see.”

He rolls his eyes with a pout tugging on his lips.

“You’re enjoying this too much. Maybe I’ll dig them out for you one day. But only if you’re nice.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Me, nice to you? That’s a tall order.”

A faint chuckle leaves Satoru’s lips as the spacious foyer transitions into a grand hallway. Haru skips beside you, glancing up at Satoru with a newfound admiration.

The moment you reach a large set of intricately carved wooden doors, he pauses, turning to you with a reassuring smile before pushing them open.

Inside, a cozy yet sophisticated study awaits—shelves lined with books and a large mahogany desk dominating the room.

“Yo, Suguru,” he waves flippantly, “this is y/n and her daughter, Haru.”

Your eyes are met with a man seated behind the desk—a calm and composed air about him. He is strikingly beautiful, raven hair tied back into a bun with louse tousles framing his face. As he looks up from a stack of papers, his sharp yet gentle eyes focus on you and Haru. He rises, extending a hand with a polite smile.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Suguru Geto.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” you shake his hand with a subtle nod.

The presence of another stranger causes Haru’s shyness to return as she hides behind your legs again—you kneel down, smoothing her hair gently.

“Haru,” you pull out a small bag of her favorite toys from your duffle bag, “why don’t you take a seat over there and play with your toys while Mommy talks with Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto?”

With a light nod, Haru takes the bag and settles into a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room—spreading out her treasures with a look of concentration.

You take a seat across from Suguru, with Satoru sinking into the chair beside you—posture relaxed and seemingly indifferent.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” Suguru leans forward, “I’ve drafted the marriage contract based on the discussions I’ve had with Satoru. I’ll walk you through the main points.”

Referencing the document upon the desk, he begins.

“Firstly, as you both know, the purpose of this marriage is strictly business-related with no romantic implications. Both parties agree to maintain the appearance of a committed relationship in public and professional settings.”

Okay, easy—right?

You nod, but in the corner of your eye you can see Satoru lounging back in his chair. The mild disinterest on his face and the nonchalant way he twirls a pen between his fingers makes you grit your teeth.

He carries a casual attitude—one you shouldn’t be surprised with at this point because it’s the same infuriating aura he brings to every business meeting. But in this case, it’s a stark contrast to the gravity of this conversation. Here you are, discussing marriage and he’s sitting here as if you’re determining what to eat for lunch.

Yup, nothing’s changed. He still aggravates the hell out of you.

“Next, the duration of the marriage is set for one year, starting from the date of signing,” Suguru continues. “There are provisions for extending or terminating the marriage early, should both parties agree.”

You absorb every word as you listen intently, but Satoru seems to be in his own world. It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes as you catch him leaning back further into his chair, now balancing it on two legs. He taps his pen against his lip thoughtfully—an indifferent expression plastered across his face.

Is he even listening?

Here you are, about to commit to a fake marriage for the sake of your job and your daughter, and Satoru looks like a bored child.

You shoot him a sideways glance, silently willing him to take this more seriously, but the moment he catches your eye he simply offers a lazy wink, making your blood boil even more.

Suguru, unfazed by Satoru's demeanor, continues outlining the contract.

“The financial arrangements are next…Satoru will include a monthly allowance to you, y/n, to cover personal and household expenses. Both parties will maintain separate bank accounts, and any joint financial decisions require mutual consent.”

You blink in surprise. A monthly allowance?

Though you had asked Satoru to cover child care, you weren’t expecting this level of financial support. Isn’t that a bit excessive?

“Wait, what?” you blurt out, unable to hide your astonishment. “A monthly allowance? For personal and household expenses?”

Satoru’s chair drops back onto all four legs with a soft thud as he leans forward, finally showing a hint of interest. He raises an eyebrow at your reaction, a lazy smile curling his lips.

“We wouldn’t want you or Haru to struggle, now, would we?”

His words sound almost considerate, but it’s the casual way he says them that makes you question his sincerity.

“Some might see you being my secretary as a conflict of interest now. You’ll still work beside me, but I can’t give you a formal salary for that role. Doing it this way ensures that all you have to worry about is playing your part. Besides,” he adds, a hint of amusement creeping back into his voice, “what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support my wife?”

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a wary look, trying to gauge his true intentions. It makes sense… but is he mocking you, or is this his way of showing genuine concern? With Satoru, it’s always hard to tell.

Suguru clears his throat, drawing your attention back to the contract.

“Moving on to the living arrangements, you will both reside in the marital home here.”

Satoru interrupts, tone almost too nonchalant as he leans back in his chair and lazily stretches, “I’ve already arranged for a moving company to pack your things in a few days. They’ll handle everything.”

You blink, the suddenness of it all sinking in.

“Huh?”

“Problem, sweetheart?”

“I... I didn’t realize I’d be moving in so… soon. What about my apartment? I have a lease, and breaking it will incur a penalty.”

He waves off your concern with a dismissive hand, leaning back further with hands casually behind his head.

“I’ll pay it. Consider it handled. No point in you staying there when you’re supposed to be living here.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his insouciant dismissal of what, to you, is a significant expense.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. We need to make this look legitimate, and that means living together. Consider it part of the arrangement.”

To him, solving problems with money seamed effortless.

To you, this isn’t just a contract; it’s a complete upheaval of your life.

You’re starting to really feel the difference in your two worlds.

The abruptness is a bit overwhelming, and yet, Satoru seems to handle it with the same ease he applies to all his business dealings.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s not that you aren’t grateful, but you can’t help but wonder…does he pity you? See you as a charity act?

Suguru, sensing your hesitation, interjects your thoughts with a soothing tone,

“It’s important for appearances that you both share a residence. It solidifies the arrangement in the eyes of your colleagues and the public.”

You take a deep breath, nodding again. “Right, I understand.”

Suguru nods, making a note on the document.

“Good. Now, let’s move on to the responsibilities and obligations. You’re both expected to attend public and social functions, maintaining the façade of a loving marriage.”

Satoru who still remains leaned in his chair, now has his head tilted back, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Oh, and by the way," he begins, eyes flicking to you while his posture remains unmoved, "we'll be getting married at the courthouse tomorrow to make things official on paper. Our public ceremony will be a grand affair, but it will come later to keep the media satisfied and appease everyone."

Tomorrow?

You give a hesitant nod, absorbing the rapid pace at which your life is changing.

“Alright…tomorrow.”

Suguru flips to the next page, “In terms of termination, either party can initiate it with a 30-day notice. Grounds for early termination include breach of contract or mutual consent. Upon termination, Satoru will provide a one-time settlement payment to you, y/n.”

You blink as Suguru pushes the contract towards you, the settlement amount highlighted in bold. Did Satoru add a few extra zeros by mistake? That number can’t be correct, right?

You glance up at Satoru, who is now inspecting his nails with a look of utter boredom.

“Is this…correct?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru looks up, meeting your eyes with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, it’s correct. Consider it a thank you for playing along.”

You shake your head slightly, trying to wrap your mind around the figure. This settlement could change your life, secure Haru’s future, and give you the stability you’ve been desperately seeking.

You could pay off your medical bills for the childbirth, could go back to school. Hell, you could be free of Naoya, you wouldn’t need him or his money.

You narrow your eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity.

"And what’s the catch?”

Satoru chuckles, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Just think of it as me taking care of my...business partner."

Suguru clears his throat, glancing between the two of you.

“Well, there is one additional detail, y/n. The settlement is contingent on maintaining a favorable public image. Any actions or behaviors that damage Satoru’s reputation would result in the forfeiture of all financial support and settlement funds.”

You blink, the implications dawning on you. Ah, of course there would be a condition—you knew better than to think he was just being generous.

“So… I’m responsible for upholding your image? What does that even mean?”

Satoru’s crooked grin widens.

“It means no scandals, no controversies. You play the part of the perfect spouse, attend events, smile for the cameras, and keep any...personal indiscretions out of the spotlight. Simple enough, right?”

Your stomach churns as you realize the depth of his control—you thought you were escaping Naoya’s grasp, but it seems control is still a prevalent force in your life.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience; it’s a binding agreement that keeps you in line with his public persona, ensuring that any slip-up on your part will have dire financial consequences.

A part of you can’t blame him, though. It makes sense for him to take extra precautions. The Gojos have always been in the public eye, and there have been countless rumors about Satoru's refusal to settle down.

“What if something happens that’s out of my control? What if someone tries to smear my name?”

Satoru’s eyes harden slightly, though his smile remains.

“We’ll handle that on a case-by-case basis. But let’s just say I have ways of managing the media. You just need to play your part, nothing more.”

The calculated control in his tone, juxtaposed with his unwavering smile, makes your skin prickle with unease. The room feels suddenly colder, and a knot tightens in your stomach. You thought you were stepping into a partnership, but now it feels like a performance where one wrong move could cost you dearly.

Suguru interjects, his tone professional.

“This clause is essential for protecting both your interests and Satoru’s. Maintaining a positive public image is crucial for the success of this arrangement and for avoiding any complications that could arise from negative publicity.”

You take a deep breath—this was a gamble. The settlement would secure Haru’s future, your future, but your every move would be scrutinized, and any misstep could strip away the stability you desperately needed.

Your eyes wander to Haru, quietly and innocently playing with her toys. For her sake, you were willing to play Satoru’s game, even if it meant living under the constant pressure of his expectations.

“Alright,” you say firmly. “I agree to the terms.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker with satisfaction and Suguru leans forward sliding a pen towards you both.

“Good. If you both agree to these terms, we can proceed with the signing.”

You observe Satoru as he reaches for the pen—he is back to that usual air of nonchalance; it is almost unsettling. He signs the document with a flourish, barely glancing at the terms, and you envy his composure.

When he hands you the pen, meeting your eyes with a confident smile, you hesitate for a second—then, with a determined snatch, you take the pen from his delicate hand.

Holding your breath, you press the pen to paper and sign your name in one fell swoop. Each stroke of the pen feels heavy, final, but also strangely empowering.

No turning back now.

ꨄ︎

The courthouse ceremony was as brief and impersonal as you expected.

Something about Haru witnessing you legally enter into a fake marriage just didn’t feel right—so you opted to leave her with Satoru’s nanny.

Standing in front of the judge, reciting vows, and signing the official documents felt more like a business transaction than a wedding.

Glancing at Satoru, you couldn't help but feel a bit solemn as you observed him, his expression as indifferent as ever.

This wasn't the fairy tale wedding you once dreamed of. There was no crowd, no rings, no romantic gestures—just a legal agreement with a pen on paper, binding you to him for the next year.

But then again, you knew that coming into this—it was never about romance or dreams; it was about survival and securing a future for Haru.

It was over as quickly as it began—just like that, the judge declared you husband and wife, immediately leaving you alone with Satoru right after.

Noticing your serious expression, Satoru leans in slightly as you gather the official documents.

"You look like you're attending a funeral, not a wedding Mrs. Gojo," his voice drips with playful mockery.

Hearing him call you ‘Mrs. Gojo’ sends a shiver down your spine. That was going to take some getting used to.

“And you look like you’re at a board meeting, not your wedding, Mr. Gojo,” you retort, unable to hide the underlying bite in your voice as your fingers shuffle through the pages.

A deep chuckle reverberates through the otherwise solemn atmosphere. Once you tuck the documents under your arm, you begin to make your way towards the exit. Satoru immediately falls into step beside you.

“Touché. But really, lighten up sweetheart. Gonna need to work harder to convince everyone you’re head over heels in love with me,” there’s a playful challenge in his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“Well, forgive me for not swooning over this magical moment. You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured my wedding day," you mutter, trying to mask the internal melancholy whirling within you.

When you reach for the door, Satoru beats you to it, holding it open with a flourish.

"Oh? And how did you picture it?” he raises an eyebrow as his eyes gleam in amusement, “Let me guess, lots of flowers, a big white dress, and some poor guy professing his undying love for you?"

Okay, screw him. He was really not making this any better. You feel the heat rise to your face as a scoff escapes your lips—the only response you will give him.

Brushing past him, your heels click against the polished floors through the marble halls of the courthouse. As you glance to the tall, ornate windows lining the corridor, the sunlight streams through, casting intricate patterns.

“Hmm, think I guessed right,” he chuckles as he saunters after you.

“And what if you did?” you snap, voice echoing in the grand space. “Is it so weird for me to want a normal family for my daughter?”

The teasing glint in his eyes dim as his expression softens slightly. Once you reach the elevator, Satoru presses the button—the two of you wait in an awkward silence.

The moment the elevator door slides open, you both step inside, the quiet hum of the machinery enveloping you.

“No, it’s not weird. It’s just... different from what I’ve ever thought about,” he says while he presses the button to the lobby.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the back of the elevator.

“What, Mr. Perfect never thought about settling down?”

Satoru's gaze drifts for a moment as he considers your question. The elevator begins its descent, the soft whirl filling the silence.

“Honestly? No, I never did. My father used to pressure me about it all the time. Wanted me to marry someone who could... 'enhance' our family’s status.” He was contemplative, and the echoes of old frustrations are clear in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden openness.

The rumors about Satoru had always painted him as a carefree bachelor, uninterested in the constraints of marriage.

Some said he was too focused on his career, while others whispered that he enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down. There were even speculations that he had a hidden lover, or perhaps he was waiting for the perfect match to come along, someone who could stand by his side both in business and in life.

“…and you never found anyone who fit the bill?”

He chuckles, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Plenty of candidates. None that I wanted to spend my life with. Plus, all those ‘suitable matches’ were just women trying to get their hands on the Gojo fortune. Most people just see the money and power. They don't see the person behind it.”

The vulnerability in his eyes is fleeting, and you realize that his father’s expectations must have weighed heavily on him. The pressure to find someone was not about love or companionship—it was about maintaining an image, a legacy. In a way, you both have been victims to control your entire lives.

As the depth of his frustrations become more apparent, you feel a pang of sympathy. It’s enough to make you wonder about the real Satoru. The elevator continues its descent, and you find yourself lingering on his words.

“That sounds... difficult. So why did you go through with this then? With me?”

His gaze softens; his expression thoughtful as he watches the numbers descending the floor levels. He tilts his head slightly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Because you’re different. You didn’t come to me looking for wealth or status. You needed help, and I needed a solution. It’s honest, in a way. No hidden agendas, no false pretenses.”

A nervous flutter dances in your stomach, your fingers fidgeting with the folder of documents in your hands. The softness in his words catch you off guard, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact.

A small, rueful smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“In a world where everyone wants something from me, I find your straightforwardness refreshing.”

Your heart skips as a warm blush creeps up your cheeks.

“I never thought you’d see it that way. I just... I wanted to do what was best for Haru.”

“And that’s what makes you different,” he replies softly. “You’re doing this for her, not for yourself. That’s why I agreed to this. Because I believe you’re sincere.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal the bustling courthouse lobby.

The weight of the conversation settles between you, a rare moment of vulnerability that made you see Satoru in a new light—a glimpse into his inner world.

The moment you near the courthouse door, you and Satoru push it open in an attempt to exit, but are immediately greeted by a barrage of flashing cameras and shouted questions. Paparazzi swarm around you, seeming to have materialized out of nowhere—how did they even know where to find you both?

Satoru, ever the master of public appearances, wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch is warm and firm, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart through his suit.

The sensation of his hand resting securely on your hip sends a tingle through your body, a fluttering in your stomach—you realize now that this is the first time he has touched you.

“Smile for the cameras, Mrs. Gojo,” he whispers into your ear, breath tickling your skin.

You blink, heat rising to your face as you’re momentarily caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. But you quickly compose yourself, remembering the role you have to play.

Leaning into him slightly, you offer a shy smile to the cameras. The flashes intensify and the questions grow louder.

“Mr. Gojo why are you in a courthouse?”

“Mr. Gojo, what is the status of Gojo Corporation?”

“Who is this woman Mr. Gojo?”

“What is your statement on your father’s passing?”

As the paparazzi continue to snap photos and shout questions, Satoru leans down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips were soft, and the warmth of his breath burned your skin. The gesture, though small, sends a shiver down your spine.

It was all for show, you reminded yourself. Just part of the act.

Yet, the unexpected intimacy lingered, making it hard to ignore the way your heart raced at his touch.

Satoru’s kiss had worked perfectly, fueling the media frenzy. The paparazzi went wild at the tender action—camera flashes intensifying and voices growing louder. They call out more questions, desperate to capture every angle of the seemingly affectionate moment. You feel the eyes of the crowd boring into you.

“Let’s get out of here,” Satoru murmurs, voice low and soothing amidst the chaos.

He reaches out, hand warm and firm as he interlocks his fingers with yours, gently guiding you through the throng of reporters towards the waiting car. His other arm subtly shields you from the crowd.

As you finally break free from the mass of flashing cameras and shouting voices, you slide into the car, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Satoru slides beside you immediately after.

Glancing back at the courthouse, the reality of your new life begins to sink in. Once the car pulls away, a breath escapes you—one you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

“That was... intense.”

Satoru chuckles, arm resting behind your shoulder. He tilts his head slightly, allowing a few tousles of white hair to fall into his eyes. Through the soft strands, his gaze meets yours, a mix of amusement and seriousness dancing in his striking blue eyes.

“Welcome to my world," he murmurs. "Better get used to it, sweetheart. This is just the beginning.”

ꨄ︎

The following day, a moving company arrived at your apartment as promised—they packed up your belongings with swift efficiency, leaving you feeling like a spectator in your own life.

Watching your life be boxed up and loaded into trucks was bittersweet—as your small apartment, with its familiar creaks and cracks, had been your safe haven.

Everything was arranged, down to the smallest detail. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself standing in the grand foyer of Satoru’s mansion once again, this time with all your worldly possessions.

Haru, wide-eyed and excited, clung to your side, her tiny fingers wrapped around your hand.

"Welcome to your new home," Satoru says with a grin.

It felt more like stepping into a palace than a home.

He reaches down and grabs one of your suitcases, lifting it effortlessly,

"Let me show you to our room."

You feel your face heat up instantly.

"Our room?" you stammer. "Why would we need to share a room when no one is here to watch this charade?"

Satoru's grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you. You have your own room. I just wanted to see your reaction."

You shoot him a glare, feeling a mix of relief and annoyance.

“You're impossible," you mutter, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

He chuckles, leading you up the grand staircase, and Haru follows closely, her eyes darting around in awe at the luxurious decor. The polished marble steps feel cool underneath you, and the ornate banisters gleam under the soft lighting.

"Come on, let me show you around." Satoru says as he leads the way down a long corridor.

The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries and framed artwork, each piece more exquisite than the last.

Eventually, Satoru stops in front of a set of double doors, turning to you with a small, satisfied smile.

"Here we are."

He pushes them open to reveal a spacious bedroom. The room beautifully furnished, with a large bed, elegant drapes, and a balcony overlooking the manicured gardens below.

"This is your room," he announces, setting your suitcase down gently.

"Wow," you breathe.

It feels a bit overwhelming the moment you step foot inside. Haru, on the other hand, darts past you, exploring every nook and cranny with a delighted giggle. It was easily twice the size of your old apartment.

"This is beautiful... and a lot."

Satoru leans against the doorframe, arms casually crossing over his chest.

The soft light from the chandelier above casts a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. His white hair, tousled just enough to seem effortlessly stylish, frames his face perfectly.

"Only the best for my... business partner," he says, tone light yet carrying a hint of something deeper.

You offer a simple, "Thanks," but your voice is softer than you intended. Your eyes betray you, lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary.

Satoru's eyes hold yours with a softness that catches you off guard—a striking shade of blue that seems almost ethereal. In that moment, you couldn't help but notice the intensity and warmth in his gaze, it’s almost tender, making you feel like anything but just a ‘business partner’.

Was he always this beautiful?

You can’t help but wonder, feeling a warmth spread through you as the silence stretches on. The moment feels strangely intimate, a connection forming that neither of you expected.

Crap. What are you thinking?

Haru’s giggle breaks the spell as she jumps on your bed.

"Oh, and just so you know," he adds with a playful glint in his eye, "my room is right next door. We share the bathroom, so try not to hog all the hot water."

You blink, surprised. "We have to share a bathroom?"

Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the bathroom door and peer inside.

It was equally impressive, with a large tub and walk-in shower, all in pristine condition. The fixtures gleam, and the marble countertop adds a touch of luxury. There was another door leading directly to Satoru’s room, a constant reminder of his proximity.

"Yep. Just think of it as our first test of marital bliss. Can we survive sharing a bathroom?" Satoru's voice was suddenly closer.

You turn to find him standing right behind you, having moved from his previous spot at the doorframe. The idea of sharing such a personal space with him was a bit unnerving. An awkwardly intimate setup for such a detached relationship, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"…I suppose I'll manage.”

Satoru laughs softly.

"That's the spirit. And don't worry, Haru's room is right across from us. She's got the best room in the house actually," he adds, tilting his head to the side as a cue for you to follow him.

Haru trails excitedly behind as you walk through the luxurious hallway, her giggles echo off the walls. Opening the door, you peek inside and are struck by the sheer extravagance of it.

The room was a child’s dream—decorated in soft pastel colors, with a canopy bed draped in delicate lace, plush toys neatly arranged on shelves, and even a small play area complete with a dollhouse and a set of building blocks. The walls were adorned with whimsical murals of fairies and woodland creatures, creating a magical atmosphere that seemed straight out of a storybook.

Haru's delighted squeals bring a smile to your face, easing the last of your worries.

It was clear that Satoru had spared no expense in making her feel welcome. Each detail spoke of thoughtfulness and care, from the cozy reading nook to the vibrant rainbow-colored rug that added a playful touch to the room. How on earth did he pull all this off so quickly?

“Wow, look, Mama!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up with joy, running inside to inspect her new haven.

A sense of relief washes over you as a tender smile forms upon your lips. At least Haru would be happy here. The sight of her so animated and cheerful makes the transition a bit easier to bear. Satoru stands beside you.

“I wanted her to feel at home," he says softly, eyes reflecting a rare sincerity.

“You've done more than that. She's ecstatic," you reply, watching Haru dive into a pile of stuffed animals with a gleeful laugh.

Satoru clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, the gesture uncharacteristically awkward. He glances at the clock on the wall, as if searching for an excuse to end the moment.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his tone is gentle and almost hesitant. "Let me know if you need anything. Dinner will be ready soon, see you down there?”

His usual confidence is somewhat muted—you wonder, is it you? Haru?

"Yeah,” you nod, “I’m going to put a few of my things away and then we’ll meet you downstairs."

“Right. Take your time. There's no rush."

You can’t help but replay the interaction in your mind as you unpack the essentials from your suitcase. The awkwardness between you and Satoru would pass, you hope. For now, it was enough to know that Haru is happy and safe.

Haru’s laughter echoes from her room, a sound that brings a smile to your face. She seemed to be adjusting much faster than expected, her innocent joy undiminished by the upheaval.

And to you, her laughter solidified it—marrying Satoru, this was the right call.

ꨄ︎

The past few days living with Satoru had been a whirlwind of adjustments—it wasn’t without its challenges. The mansion, with its sprawling rooms and luxurious decor, is more like a museum than a home.

The sheer size makes you feel small and out of place at times, and the constant presence of staff make it difficult to find a moment of privacy.

Satoru, however, had been surprisingly considerate. He’s a constant reminder of the delicate balance you need to maintain—attentive yet reserved, playful yet serious, a paradox that kept you on edge.

Your interactions with Satoru had settled into a routine of polite, if somewhat distant, cohabitation. There were moments of unexpected tenderness, like when he had found you struggling to open a jar in the kitchen and had stepped in to help with a playful grin.

Another time, you had been overwhelmed while trying to assemble a new toy for Haru, and Satoru had quietly taken a seat beside you, helping to figure out the instructions without a word.

Yet despite these moments, there was always an underlying tension, a reminder of the unusual circumstances that had brought you together.

As the days passed, the impending charity gala loomed larger in your mind—the first public event you would attend together as a married couple.

Satoru had taken the time to sit down with you and discuss how you would present yourselves, a task that seemed daunting but necessary.

You agreed on the basics: stay close, exchange subtle touches, and share occasional whispers to create an air of intimacy. The plan was straightforward, but the execution would be another matter entirely.

He emphasized the importance of appearing united, offering tips on how to handle the media and the probing questions that were sure to come. His confidence and ease in handling the media was something you were learning to lean on, though the pressure of maintaining the charade weighed heavily on you.

“What about Haru?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

“We’ll leave her out of the spotlight,” Satoru replied gently. “I don’t want to overwhelm her. She takes no part in this agreement beyond being your daughter. She’ll stay here with the nanny during the event.”

Amidst all this, your phone had been buzzing constantly with missed calls from Naoya. You hadn't answered any of them—maybe you should just call off the court case?

You did just go through a life changing event, marriage, and that often interferes with the legal process anyways. The judge would need to take into consideration your new source of income for the child support payments.

Honestly, you don’t need Naoya’s support anymore.

You’ll take care of that after the gala though—right now you already have too much on your plate, spending hours with Satoru, fabricating shared experiences and finding common ground to make your relationship believable.

The task of memorizing details about his likes and dislikes, his habits, and his quirks was daunting, but you found yourself surprised at the small details you were beginning to remember about him—the way he took his coffee, his favorite late-night snack, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly when he found something genuinely funny, or how he would absentmindedly run a hand through his tousled white hair when deep in thought.

As the days slipped by in a blur of preparations and rehearsed smiles, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this carefully constructed façade was starting to take on a life of its own. Each shared glance and each moment of unexpected kindness blurred the lines between reality and pretense, leaving you wondering just how deep this charade would go.

ꨄ︎

Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you adjust the luxurious dress Satoru had picked out for you. A deep, elegant blue fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, and the V-shaped open back that rests above your hips adds a touch of allure.

Loose cascading waves frame your face perfectly, and the professional makeup artist gave you a look that is both subtle and glamorous, enhancing your features in a way the felt natural yet striking.

You barely recognize yourself.

The transformation was astonishing, turning you from a frazzled single mother into a vision of sophistication and grace.

Was it too much? You feel out of sorts, like you’re wearing someone else's skin. The elegant image in the mirror is both thrilling and unnerving.

As you try to steady your racing heart, a knock on the bathroom door makes you jump slightly—Satoru’s door.

“Y/n you ready?” his voice calls out.

With a deep breath, you take one last look in the mirror. As you open the door, Satoru’s frame leans casually against the entryway.

The sleek black tuxedo he is adorned in highlights his broad shoulder and lean frame. His white hair is perfectly styled, contrasting sharply with the dark fabric.

He meets you with a stunned silence—eyes widening slightly as he takes you in. The cool blue of his irises seem more vibrant, gleaming with anticipation as they trace over your form.

You had never seen his eyes linger across your figure like this before—the intensity of his gaze makes your stomach flutter. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you fear what will come out of his mouth.

Does he think it’s too much?

“Wow,” he breathes, voice almost reverent. “You look... stunning.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment, and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you say softly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

Satoru steps closer, eyes locked on you. He reaches out and gently lifts your chin, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Seriously, you look amazing. I knew the dress would look good on you, but this... you’re going to be the star of the gala,” a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Ready to knock them dead?”

You nod, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…hopefully I can live up to the part.”

“You will,” offering you his arm, he adds, “Just be yourself, and stay by my side, we’re in this together."

ꨄ︎

The ride to the gala is filled with a comfortable silence.

The city lights blur outside the window as the car smoothly navigates through the streets. You find yourself stealing glances at Satoru, admiring the way his profile looks in the dim light.

Strange.

The usually insufferable man seemed different tonight—steadfast, dependable, almost... comforting? Perhaps it’s the nerves.

His arm rests casually behind you, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, and you’re surprised yourself how it does not bother you—in fact, it’s actually quite soothing.

Once you arrive, the grand ballroom is a stunning sight. Chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd.

The room is filled with the city’s elite—a sea of luxurious gowns and tailored suits mingling and exchanging pleasantries. The sight of you and Satoru together was enough to turn heads, drawing curious and admiring glances.

But the sheer number of people, the pressure of playing your part, and the countless eyes watching your every move—it’s all a bit overwhelming. You really felt out of place here.

Sensing your unease, Satoru leans in close, breath warm against your ear.

“Remember, just follow my lead.”

Guiding you with ease, his hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you voyage through the attendees—the warm gentle touch is electric against your bare skin.

Your eyes skim through the herd of people and land on a waiter balancing a tray of champagne glasses. Perhaps a drink would ease your nerves? You don’t hesitate to grab a glass as you navigate the crowd.

Satoru, ever the socialite, seamlessly traverses the room, introducing you to important figures and engaging in small talk that you struggle to follow.

Discussions ranged from market trends and corporate mergers, to the latest charity galas and art exhibitions. Trying to keep up, you nod and smile at the appropriate moments.

It’s clear that Satoru is in his element—his charm, effortless. You find yourself admiring how easy he makes it all look.

As you cling to him, the pride in his eyes when he looks at you makes you feel like you belong, even if you are just playing a part in this elaborate charade.

The evening flowed smoothly enough, with your glass of champagne acting as a steady companion. The warmth of the alcohol helps you mingle with guests, exchange polite conversations, and stay close to Satoru, all as planned. But each interaction was a delicate dance—your smiles and nods masking the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

Honestly, your mind was elsewhere—there is an undercurrent of anxiety as you anticipate Satoru’s announcement on stage, where he would publicly acknowledge your marriage during his donation speech.

When the moment you had been dreading finally arrives, you settle into a chair near the front, heart pounding in your chest.

Satoru takes the stage with a natural grace, and as the spotlight illuminates his striking figure, his presence commands the attention of everyone in the room.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice resonating with a confident authority. “I want to thank you all for being here tonight. Your generosity and support make events like this possible.”

His words flow smoothly as he speaks eloquently about the cause and significance of the charity, each sentence perfectly crafted to engage and inspire—you marveled at his ability to enthrall people.

Pressing your champagne glass to your lips, you desperately hope the cool liquid can help to steady your nerves a bit more.

Then, the moment came.

“I will be donating ten million dollars to this charity,” Satoru announces, his voice carrying a conviction.

The amount causes a ripple of excitement and murmurs to spread through the crowd—you nearly choked on your champagne in shock.

Ten million?

You couldn’t even fathom having that much money, let alone donating it. The magnitude of Satoru’s status is staggering.

A smile tugs at Satoru’s lips—a genuine warmth mingling with the mischievous glint in his eyes. He pauses, letting the impact of his words settle, then lifts a finger to tap his chin contemplatively, as if he just remembered something.

“Or should I say, we will be donating—me and my lovely wife.”

Satoru gestures in your direction as a spotlight beams upon you. The crowd erupts into an enthusiastic applause, causing your heart to race the moment all eyes instantly turn to you.

There is a rush of heat that rises to your cheeks, mixing with the warmth of the alcohol. The weight of the crowd’s gaze makes your vision a bit blurry.

Beckoning you to join him on stage, Satoru extends his hand and offers a comforting smile. Though, the moment you stand, the room spins slightly—perhaps it’s from the champagne, or perhaps it’s the sheer pressure.

You can’t fuck this up.

With as much grace as you can muster, you make your way to the platform.

Satoru wraps an arm around your waist the moment you are at his side, pulling you close and steadying your trembling figure. He looks down into your eyes with a genuine look of endearment.

“Everyone, please welcome my beautiful wife, y/n,” he says softly in the microphone, his voice filled with a gentle pride.

The applause swells, and you manage a smile, trying to focus on Satoru while ignoring the spotlight’s heat and the intense gazes of attendees.

Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Despite the orchestrated nature of your relationship, in this moment, his genuine reassurance means everything. His presence is a steady anchor in the sea of faces and flashing cameras, the only thing holding you together right now.

When the applause dies down, Satoru continues his speech, the warmth of his hand remaining on your waist as his thumb traces soft circles.

You can barely focus on his words, the dizzying reality of where you’re standing feels both exhilarating and terrifying.

The moment Satoru’s speech concludes, the soft hum of conversation mingling and the delicate notes of the live orchestra begin to fill the air yet again. Satoru leads you off the stage, his hand never leaving your side.

Almost immediately after you descend to the floor, Satoru is approached by a business associate, his demeanor shifting effortlessly into that of a seasoned negotiator as they exchange discussions of market trends, potential collaborations, and strategic ventures.

Your heart is still pounding—public speaking was never your strong suit. Despite not needing to speak, being on that stage stirred something within you.

You recall a particularly disastrous presentation in college where you accidentally knocked over the projector, sending your notes flying across the room. The laughter from the audience still haunts you, and since then, you’ve always dreaded being the center of attention.

With Satoru engrossed in conversation, you seize the opportunity to make your way to the bar—seeking a moment of reprieve. Another drink wouldn’t hurt, right?

The gleaming rows of crystal glasses and various bottles of wine and spirits catch your eye. You scan the selection, your gaze lingering on a particularly rich, deep red wine.

Deciding it’s exactly what you need to steady your nerves, you signal the bartender and opt for a glass of the robust vintage, savoring the thought of its smooth, calming flavor.

One glass turned into two—your nerves finally beginning to settle as the soothing effects of the alcohol take over your senses.

Realizing you’ve been away from Satoru for quite some time, you prepare to rejoin him—but just as you start to rise, a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Well, well, look who we have here,” Naoya sneers, leaning against the bar beside you, a glass of scotch swirling in his hand. “Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with the high society.”

A chill runs down your spine and you heart drops. No amount of alcohol could have prepared you for this moment.

“Naoya,” you stiffen, clutching your wine glass tighter. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a swig of his scotch, emptying the glass and placing it down on the counter with a loud clink. Leaning closer into your space, his eyes narrow—a cold, cynical stare boring into you.

“I could ask you the same thing. This doesn’t seem like your usual scene. What’s your angle?”

Your breath quickens and you feel your pulse hammering in your chest. Adverting your gaze, your fingers brush against the rim of your wine glass.

“I’m sure you heard, I’m here with my husband, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.”

The sneer he meets you with makes the room suddenly feel smaller, as if his presence is suffocating you.

“Husband, huh?” his eyes rake over you with contempt suspicion, “Quite the leap from where you were a few weeks ago. Is this some kind of game to you?”

Summoning your courage, you straighten your back and meet his gaze head-on.

“Not a game, Naoya. It’s called moving on. You should try it sometime. My life is no longer any of your concern.”

Taking a step closer, he looms over you—his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.

“I don’t buy it. This whole charade… you think I don’t know what you’re trying to pull?”

For a moment, you are frozen in place, the fear and control Naoya exerts paralyzing you. Your mind races, the implications of his words sinking in.

What if he exposes you?

What if this carefully constructed facade comes crashing down?

Before you can respond, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you with practiced ease out of Naoya’s bubble and right beside Satoru.

“There you are, darling. Everything alright?”

His voice is smooth and warm, and his gaze flicks between you and Naoya, narrowing as he surveys the situation. The look on your face unsettles him—something feels off.

Naoya straightens himself, leaning against the bar with a supercilious smirk as he crosses his arms.

“Just catching up with an old friend. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Satoru’s tone was light but laced with an underlying steel, “I’m y/n’s husband, Satoru Gojo.”

A scoff escapes Naoya as his eyes flash with irritation, but an unnerving smile remains upon his lips.

“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly move fast, don’t you, y/n?”

Naoya can see right through you—you fell a flash of panic. Turning to Satoru, your eyes meet his with a silent plea for support. His expression softens and he gives you a reassuring nod while tightening his grip upon your waist.

“Well, when you know, you know,” Satoru says with a charming smile, “and we knew.”

Naoya snickers, running his hand through his hair in disbelief.

“Come on y/n. How did someone like you end up with someone like him? Seems... unlikely. You don’t belong here.”

Heat rises to your face and the sudden urge to shrink away overwhelms you—your heart dropping at the sting of Naoya’s words.

Suddenly, Satoru steps closer, creating a protective barrier between you and Naoya—the playful glint in his eyes gone, replaced with a cold, steely determination.

“Watch your mouth, you don’t get to talk to my wife like that.”

“I’m just stating the obvious,” Naoya shrugs, meeting Satoru’s glare with an indifference as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “She’s out of her league here.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his voice low and dangerously calm.

“If you think she’s out of her league, then you clearly don’t know her at all. You’re out of line. Y/n belongs here more than anyone. So, unless you have something worthwhile to say, I suggest you move along.”

“Is that so?” Naoya raises an eyebrow. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical. After all, you’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf, Satoru Gojo.”

Panic seizes you as Naoya’s observation hangs in the air. The last thing you need is for him to start spreading rumors or causing trouble. You realize you have to do something, and fast. Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to convince Naoya of your authenticity.

Summoning all the courage you can muster, you step forward, threading your arms around Satoru’s neck as you rest your forehead against his own. Your words are addressed to Naoya, but your eyes remain on Satoru the entire time, drawing strength from his steady gaze and the warmth of his touch.

“Satoru and I... we chose each other for reasons that go beyond what you see. We may have our differences, but we’re stronger together, and we have a connection that you can’t comprehend.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, reflecting a silent understanding and a shared resolve—his breath mingling with yours.

Feeling Naoya’s probing gaze, you know he won’t be easily convinced, and so, acting on impulse, you pull Satoru closer and crash your lips against his.

For a moment, Satoru seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise before they fluttered closed, his hands moving to rest on your hips. The world around you seemed to fade away as the kiss lingered, heat pooling in your stomach.

It was supposed to be a quick peck, just enough to sell the act. But the moment your lips met his, something shifted.

Perhaps you were emboldened by the alcohol, perhaps it was the need to be convincing, perhaps it was the way Satoru stood up for you—without thinking, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and slipping your tongue into his mouth, making things more intimate than you originally intended.

You can feel Satoru tense for a moment, his surprise evident. But then, with a soft hum against your mouth he melts into the kiss, a hand moving to cup your face as he returns the intimacy with unexpected fervor—his other hand encircling around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

Your fingers thread through Satoru’s hair and the world around you seems to fade away—the only thing that mattered now was the heat radiating off of Satoru’s body, the warmth of his lips against yours, and the lingering sweet taste of the gala’s chocolate cake mingling with the wine on your tongue.

It was a moment that felt both incredibly real and utterly surreal.

When you finally pull back, you are both breathless. As you catch a flicker of something unreadable in Satoru’s half lidded eyes, for a brief moment, you forget about Naoya completely, about the act, about everything except the electric connection between you both.

Satoru's thumb gently caresses your cheek, his gaze softening.

Pulling yourself back to reality, you peer over to Naoya—his smug expression had vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and irritation.

“As you can see, we’re very happy together,” you say sweetly, rubbing your nose against Satoru’s.

"Didn't think you were the type to move on so quickly," Naoya sneers.

A wave of exhilaration and embarrassment course through you as Naoya retreats back into the crowd. The kiss had done its job, but it had also left you with a lingering sense of uncertainty. Satoru’s touch is still warm on your skin—you can still taste him on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks softly, his concern genuine.

The question pulls you out of your thoughts, but his gaze does the opposite—your face flushes and it feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

"Yeah. I... I just needed to convince him.."

Satoru studies you momentarily—knowing there is more to the story with Naoya. But he also knows now isn’t the time to pry.

He chuckles softly, his hand lingering on your waist.

“Well, I think you succeeded. That was... unexpected. You really went for it there,” he murmurs.

For a moment, it felt like you were playing a role, but the feelings stirring inside you were anything but fake.

"I'm sorry," you swallow hard, face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

“I didn’t mind,” he interjects, thumb brushing against your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just so you know, you did great. Better than I expected,” his voice low and husky.

Fuck.

You blink—Naoya is gone, but here Satoru is, still holding you so intimately, so intently.

The way he looks at you, the warmth in his touch, the tone of his voice—it makes you question the lines between reality and pretense.

“Didn’t know you had it in you.” Satoru hums, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. He leans in, his breath dancing on your lips, tantalizingly close. “But next time, let’s save the tongue for when we’re really alone, hm?”

What is he saying?

Your mind races, trying to decipher his words, his intentions. Was he still in character, or was there a hint of genuine desire in his eyes?

The electricity in the air was undeniable, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of his gaze—the crowd around you fading, their murmurs and whispers becoming a distant hum.

Satoru’s eyes held secrets you were desperate to uncover.

As you struggle to formulate your thoughts, Satoru’s hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along you jaw.

"Relax," he murmurs, "We're just putting on a show, remember?"

You nod, though your heart betrays you with its rapid pace.

“Right,” you whisper, forcing a smile. “Just a show.”

But deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that there was more to this act than either of you were willing to admit.

ahh i really enjoyed writing this chapter. okay, i was snickering at satoru's internal turmoil when he met haru for the first time. i couldn't resist with the digimon 🤭 my daughter is currently obsessed with pikachu so that's where that inspiration came from lol. also, this kiss was one of my favs to write 🥰 lemme know if you guys are interested in me making this a longer series. as always, thanks for reading 🫶🏻 → on to the next chapter ꨄ

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[evansbby]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 (𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, a/b/o dynamics, daddy kink, HEAVY lactation kink, also heavy on housewife kink, domesticity kink, very heavy on breeding kink, and pregnancy kink, Steve is very condescending, also babies omega a lot as per usual, the usual stuff! 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is so turned on by his submissive little housewife, and so he decides he's going to breed her again.

𝐀/𝐍: I kind of went crazy with this. IDEK YALL. kinda went delirious as i wrote it and now it's late. Enjoy! (This is a drabble of my fic, POYT)

Steve can’t wait to get home to his wife. He’s only been married less than a year and yet he can’t get over the pure domestic bliss that his life has become. It’s what he’d always wanted, always dreamed about. And now he has it. With you, his perfect, beautiful, innocent little omega. And his adorable little daughter too.

“You’re home!” You breathe, your face lighting up when Steve walks in through the front door. And Steve can feel his own face lighting up, and he can’t help but take two steps forward and yank you into a crushing hug. All his stress and worries from work seem to dissipate at once. And the fact that you look so happy to see him? In a cute little floral dress, looking so extra curvy and voluptuous ever since you’d given birth. Your breasts are practically spilling out the top of your dress, and it makes him lick his lips appreciatively.

You’ve got Rosie on your hip, and she looks absolutely thrilled to see him too, which makes Steve’s chest puff out in pride. He can’t believe this is his life, and that he gets to share it with you. Sure, work is stressful as Steve plans to expand his family’s company even more and his father’s basically left him in control and responsible for everything. Not to mention, all the preparations for the senatorial elections next year.

But all that melts away as he hugs you close, his eyes fluttering shut in content as you loosen his tie and undo his collar button, pressing kisses on his shoulders and chest because you’re too small and delicate to reach his lips.

“Missed you so much, Steve.” You say, looking up at him needily.

“You did, didn’t you?” Steve smirks, although he knows that he probably missed you even more. He has a special picture of you framed on his desk. It’s from the day he proposed to you, you sitting in the field of yellow roses in your yellow dress, bathing in the sunlight and looking happier than ever. He stares at that picture more than he’d like to admit. Sometimes, he talks to it, complains to it about his dumbass employees and equally stupid business partners.

He also has a picture of Rosie from her six-month celebration. Which his whole family had celebrated as if it was her birthday – she was the first grandchild after all and so it wasn’t a surprised that everyone wanted to dote on her. Steve’s mom had been especially into the six-month celebration, which Steve didn’t understand because his mom would obviously be there for Rosie’s first birthday. And second, and third. And so on. She would, wouldn’t she?

He shakes those unwanted thoughts out of his mind before they go to that one place he doesn’t want to acknowledge right now. Instead, he focuses on you, his beautiful wife. You’re so cute and thoughtful, setting Rosie down in her baby chair before helping him out of his jacket and undoing his tie for him.

“How was work, Steve?”

“Good. The same.” He grunts, not wanting to talk about work at all. Instead, he picks up his daughter, examining her carefully. She’s cute as ever, way cuter than any other baby he’s ever seen in his life. Definitely cuter than the babies in the diaper and baby food commercials he sees on television. Rosie would be way better in those commercials, not that he’d ever exploit his daughter like that. If Steve had his way, no one outside of his family would ever lay their eyes on his wife and his baby – they’d be kept private. Because they needed to be protected by him and he loved them more than anything.

“Hey, Rosie. You look so cute, sweetheart. All ready for bed, huh?” He coos, giving his daughter a dozen kisses on her cute, fat cheeks. She giggles, wrapping her tiny arms around his face as he gives her kisses. And then he looks at her carefully, drinking her in because he hates being at work all day and missing out on her. She’s growing so fast, it feels like just yesterday she was the size of his hand and now she’s so much bigger. And she was looking more and more like her mommy as the days passed.

“She wasn’t showing any signs of being tired,” you speak up shyly, “I think she was waiting for her daddy to come home so she could say goodnight.”

“Is that right, Rosie?” Steve asks, and his daughter blinks up at him with a smile on her face, starts kicking her chubby little legs up and down excitedly. He can’t help but melt inside, deciding to play his favourite game with her. He throws her up in the air and she squeals happily. You gasp behind him, muttering a “Steve, please be careful,” which he is, of course he is.

Rosie yawns, and Steve kisses her face a few more times before placing her back down. And then he pulls you into him, kissing you fervently because he’s missed you so fucking much. Not to mention, you look so crazy hot right now. His little wife. His perfect little omega.

“Baby, this dress is so hot on you.” He mutters against your lips, lifting you up so he can kiss you properly.

You light up at his praise, “Thank you. Although it’s gotten a bit small–”

He smirks down at your breasts which look ready to pop out of the material any second, “It looks good.”

He kisses you some more, not wanting to stop as his hands go to cup your ass. But you pull away after a little while, telling him that you need to put Rosie to bed. He accompanies you, groping you every few seconds because he just can’t get over how hot you look, how you’re so glowing, how motherhood suits you so much.

The two of you put Rosie to bed, and Steve feels so fulfilled by his little family as he stands there with his arm around you, watching Rosie cuddle with her stuffed animal and immediately fall asleep.

“I made all your favourite food tonight.” You tell him as you grab his hand and lead him to the dining room. And Steve loves when you take initiative like that. Before, you’d never take his hand like that – you’d always wait for him to initiate and lead. But now, you’re more comfortable with him and he loves when you do little things like this. His little housewife, perfectly safe inside his house and leading him to the meal you’d cooked just for him.

You’ve set the dining room table up perfectly for two, but Steve pulls you into his lap after you’ve finished piling his plate up high with everything from chicken pot pie to mashed potatoes and vegetable soup. “Have you eaten, baby?”

You look down into your lap, “No, I was waiting for you.”

He feeds you along with himself, not wanting you to lift another finger. You’ve worked so hard on this dinner, and balanced that with other household chores – not to mention looking after Rosie. Now, he needs you to conserve your energy. Because of what he has planned for the rest of the night, of course.

“You’re such a good little girl,” Steve coos, tearing off a hunk of your homemade bread and dipping it into the soup before feeding it to you, “You did so good, baby, and daddy is so proud of you.”

You glow, “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, daddy – I mean Steve. Thank you, Steve!”

He smirks, patting your lips with a napkin. He continues to feed both of you, taking a second and third helping of food just for himself because he’s worked so damn fucking hard and he’s hungry and you’re like a Michelin star chef when it comes to cooking. But he loves how submissive you’re being right now, opening your mouth whenever he gives you another bite, smiling demurely when he kisses your cheek or temple, or widening your eyes when his hand playfully reaches up your skirt and settles on your bare upper thigh.

“You’re such a great housewife, omega.” He continues to sing your praises softly, wanting to see you squirm in his lap because you’ve never been able to take a compliment. “You must’ve had a busy day today, huh? My pretty little baby omega, running my house and taking care of my baby.”

You swallow your bite of food before nodding, “I-I tried. But I didn’t manage to complete everything on my to-do list.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head as if to reprimand yourself, “I did the laundry in the morning as well as some general cleaning up. I fed Rosie and played some games with her and then got her all dressed up in the new pink frilly dress we got for her six-month celebration. Then I took her to the park and did some groceries on the way back. I was supposed to go to that home boutique to get some new material for curtains and I was supposed to go to the post office too, but I had to skip all that because it was getting late and Rosie was getting fussy and I had to put her down for her nap and get started on dinner. I guess I didn’t plan everything out as perfectly as I thought I did.” You hang your head dejectedly.

It’s in moments like these that Steve just wants to hold you in his arms and kiss you all over and cherish you like the beautiful, perfect human being that you are. Instead, he brushes a bit of your hair behind your ear and tips your chin up till you meet his gaze.

“Baby, you know we have people to do all that, right?” He thinks back to the all the staff that he’s paying. Sure, he loves when you play housewife, how you insist on doing everything yourself. But he doesn’t want you to stretch yourself out so thin, and work yourself up too much. Especially not when he was trying to get you pregnant again. “Please tell me you at least had the driver take you.”

You’re silent, before looking up at him sheepishly, “It’s only a five-minute drive to the park and the grocery store, Steve.”

He frowns, “You know I don’t want you driving.” Omegas don’t drive.

“I know, I know. But I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

He decides to let it go, because Steve knows that marriage is about picking and choosing your battles. He shakes his head to let you know that he disapproves of this behaviour, but he also gives you a kiss on the temple, which informs you that he won’t be punishing you for this, which makes you relax and smile up at him. And how can he punish you? When you’ve been working so hard all day and so has he… and all he really wants to do is spend the night with his beautiful wife, doing all sorts of nasty, despicable things to you.

“S-Steve?”

He’s lost in thought, so when you call out his name in that shy, cute little voice of yours… well, it goes straight to his dick. He was rock hard the moment he’d entered the house, but now he’s positively about to bust a nut. You, all soft and cute, sitting in his lap and now you’re saying his name in that cute, breathy and shy way?! It’s like you were teasing him on purpose!

“Yes, baby?” He bounces you on his knee, licking his lips as he watches how your breasts bounce too. He drives his hard crotch into your butt, making you gasp slightly before you quickly recover.

“I was… uh… I was wondering if me and Rosie could visit you at work tomorrow?” You blurt out, looking so adorably shy as you immediately duck your head down again, “During lunch, maybe? I-It’s okay if you’re busy, though. It was just a thought.”

He knows you have a therapy session tomorrow morning (Steve oversees your schedule so he knows where you are at all times). He also knows that sometimes, after certain sessions (probably the ones where you talk about your parents) you get extra needy. He knows this because you text him a lot after those sessions, and call him a lot too. Normal stuff like describing how you cooked dinner or telling him about your day so far. You hadn’t made any girlfriends yet (well, there’s his mom and also a few of his colleagues’ wives who you were friendly with… but he knows you’re most comfortable with him). Once you’d called him while he was in the middle of a very important meeting, but he’d talked to you nonetheless because, well, he was the boss and he could do that. And because he knew you needed him.

“Of course, you can, baby. Just come right up to my office.”

You smile happily, “Okay, thanks! I’ll add it to my schedule. Let’s say… between one to two pm?”

Steve nods, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watches you take your phone out. You open your scheduling app to a colourful spreadsheet and quickly fill in a slot, the one right below “Therapy Session” and you label it as “Lunch with Steve and Rosie” with a bunch of hearts. He loves how organised you are, it’s the cutest and most amusing thing in the world to him. It also comes in handy in other aspects – like how Steve always has his shirts and ties all crisp and ironed and laid out for him every morning, and how his closet is always colour-coded.

He catches your lips in his, unable to keep from kissing you. God, he’s so in love with you and he can’t believe how perfect you are. Sometimes he can’t fully wrap his head around the fact that you’re his. Completely and utterly his. Because he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest.

But he has you. And he’s not complaining or ever letting you go.

Steve polishes off his third helping of food till the plate gleams clean, and you nod your head at him approvingly.

“Would you like some dessert, Steve? I think we have some leftover chocolate cake from last night.” (You had baked it at 2am the night before, because sometimes you did things like that and Steve had long ago stopped questioning it – especially since you’d packed him a fat slice to take to work today).

But Steve isn’t in the mood for chocolate cake right this second. He stands up quickly, with you in his arms bridal style. You squeal lightly, winding your arms up around his neck.

“I do want something sweet, baby omega. But I think you know what I want, and it’s not chocolate cake.” He murmurs huskily against your lips. Your eyes widen like they always do whenever he refers to sex, but he knows you want him just as badly. It’s the way your scent becomes so much sweeter than it already is, the way you squeeze your thighs together in a way you think is subtle but he notices every single time. It’s how he can sense your raw want and need for him through the bond you both share.

He starts walking towards the staircase with you in his arms.

“Should I tell you what I’m gonna do to you tonight, baby?”

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat so prettily, your hands looking so tiny as they trail down your chest. He can even see beads of sweat forming on your brow, and how your lips part open. All tell-tale signs of an omega who was at her most fertile and was ready to mate. (And of course, Steve knew you’d be very fertile tonight, because he kept track of things like that).

 “Mm, first I’m going to lay you down on our bed and you’re going to feed daddy, aren’t you?” Steve smirks, holding you easily with one arm while his free hand slips up to squeeze one of your breasts. As he suspected, they look big and heavy with milk, bouncing with each step he takes. Your nipples are so hard, he can see them clear as day through the thin material of your dress, and his cocks gets even harder when he sees the tiny little wet patches. “Your tits look so sore, baby. You’re gonna let daddy drink from them, aren’t you? Relieve all that pressure, right, baby omega?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy,” you pant, nodding so quickly that you forget to be shy. And now, Steve can practically smell your slick as it trickles down your legs. He takes the stairs up two at a time, keeping you firmly in his arms and watching as your tits bounce enticingly just for him.

He’d always planned to drink your milk when he got you pregnant the first time. He’d heard of other alphas doing it with their omegas, and the thought of doing it with you always turned him on to the point where he had to immediately jack off. And he finally got his chance to do it when you were still pregnant, almost about to pop and you’d begun lactating of course. Fuck, Steve had been in heaven, he still remembers the first time he’d fed from your breast. One hand cupping your pregnant belly, his mouth latched on your nipple and you gazing at him unsurely because of course you felt uncomfortable.

But Steve had loved every second of it, and so had you because he’d fingered you the whole time he drank from you, and you’d cum three times one after the other. And Steve had blown his load all over your quivering pussy, so fucking turned on by the fact that he was feeding from his pregnant omega. And then it had become a regular occurrence after that. Like if the baby had had her fill and you still felt heavy, Steve would always step in to “help out.”

“And then after I’ve drank my fill, I’m going to climb on top of you and fuck you so hard.” Steve promises you, and he swears he feels you shiver with anticipation in his arms as he carries you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. One glance at the baby monitor shows Rosie safely asleep in her nursery.

“Alpha, please!” you whine prettily, and he knows your omega senses have taken over. It’s how you’re humping against him now, your slick trailing down your legs lewdly. “N-Need you, need your knot, please, alpha, please!”

“Oh yeah? You want my knot?”

“Yes!”

“You want your alpha to cum inside your little baby omega pussy? Fill you up with my cum, then knot you so it all stays inside?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“You want me to fuck another baby into you?”

“YES, PLEASE, DADDY!”

That’s when Steve knows he has you right where he wants you. In that blissful state of complete abandon, where you leave yourself to the mercy of the omega inside you. Where you completely submit yourself to him and your own basest omega desire – mating.

Steve knows you’ve been on the fence about having another baby. The two of you had discussed it, and Steve had made it clear that he wanted a big family. You had expressed that you also wanted more babies, but you wanted to wait a while and focus on Rosie. Well, Rosie was almost seven months old now, and Steve was sure she’d love a little sibling. And then another one. And another one. And then another. And then one more. And then maybe another one after that.

He throws you on the bed, and you land on your back with a soft thud. Already, your legs are spreading on their own accord, as if you need him inside you right this second. But Steve plans on taking his own sweet time, and he salivates when he sees your cleavage, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe erratically.

He’s on top of you in a second, licking and nipping at your face like a feral beast who wants to mark his prey. He scents you heavily, till you grow lax in his arms, all submissive and needy as you stare up at him pleadingly, your nostrils twitching at his alpha scent.

“Alpha, plea– oh my!”

He rips your dress clean in half, letting out an animalistic growl when your tits spill out attractively. No bra of course. And no panties either. You weren’t allowed to wear those at home.

“S-Steve,” you gasp as he spanks your thigh and gives you a warning look, “I-I mean, daddy! Please fuck me!”

He chuckles, tweaking the stiff peak of your nipple before blowing cool air on it. He watches your features twist, your jaw go slack. “Let daddy have some fun first, baby omega. Don’t forget, you have to feed me first.”

He’s got his knee lodged between your legs and he can feel you steadily humping against it. But all he can focus on are your breasts. He rolls your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pressing down gently before cupping your breast and squeezing it.

You moan as your milk spurts out, and Steve immediately latches on to your nipple, sucking hard. He moans around your breast, sending vibrations through your whole body when your sweet milk touches his tongue. Fuck, you taste so good, so sweet.

“That’s my good little baby,” he murmurs encouragingly, his voice slightly muffled as he tries to coax your writhing body. “Such a good little baby, breastfeeding your daddy like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Ah, ah, ah! Y-Yeah!”

“That’s right, give daddy more of your sweet mommy milk,” he sucks almost your whole breast into his mouth, so incredibly turned on by what he’s doing right now. He massages your other breast, and it squirts out milk too. Steve takes care of that, licking all over both your breasts to get the excess milk off your chest before returning to your nipple, “Tell me how much you love feeding daddy.”

“L-Love feeding daddy, love it so much, please!” You mewl pitifully, grabbing at his hair and pressing his face more into your breasts. And Steve can’t believe this is you – his shy and innocent little omega wife completely transformed into this feral creature who is currently rutting against his clothed cock.

He can’t help but surge up and kiss you, his tongue mingling with yours as he makes you taste your own milk. And you’re moaning breathily, breaking the kiss every few seconds just to beg him some more, saying “daddy, please” before biting and sucking at his lip, kissing him deeper like you can’t get enough of him.

“God, I love your mommy milk so much,” he tells you, going back to suck your other nipple. And he knows you feel immediate relief as he drains you, alleviates the pressure from your breasts as he drinks from you. He feels you stroke his hair and wrap your legs around his waist, dry humping him even more needily, like you just can’t help it.

He spanks you hard, four times in quick succession, “You’re gonna feed me your mommy milk whenever I want, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, alpha! I will!”

He grazes his teeth against your sensitive nipple, making you jump before you gives it another hearty suck, your milk still squirting out straight into his mouth, “Mm, so you’re gonna breastfeed daddy tomorrow, aren’t you? When you stop by for lunch at my office?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah? You’re gonna sit in daddy’s lap like a sweet little omega and let me suck on your tits while I do my work? Feed me your sweet mommy milk like the obedient little wife that you are?” God, Steve was so turned on, he reaches down to pull his cock out from the confines of his pants. You see it and gasp, immediately making grabby hands for it, and the smell of your arousal increases tenfold.

“Y-Yeah, daddy! W-Wanna be good for you, always wanna do what I’m told an’ be good for you,” you cry, clutching him close, “I’ll do anything for you alpha, please, please, please!”

God, you were such a good fucking omega. The perfect little wife, so innocent yet you turned into a freak in the goddamn sheets when he had you underneath him. You were almost as desperate for him as he was for you, although he knew you could never beat him at that game. He was so obsessed with you, it was unhealthy. He wanted you all the time, he thought about you all the time. To Steve, the sexiest thing in the whole world was you, and the fact that you were his property turned him on infinitely more.

He licks at your tits hungrily, lapping up all your sweet milk that he didn’t catch in his mouth the first time. And then he goes back to sucking, and he even gives your nipple a little bite, making you scream his name and hold him even tighter. And it’s then that he realises that you’ve cum, and he feels the sopping wetness of your release as you squirt all over his leg, crying like a baby as you moan his name deliriously.

“You’re a sensitive little baby, aren’t you, omega?” Steve whispers devilishly, reaching down to cup between your legs, feel your quivering pussy, your sensitive clit throbbing against his palm. “Can’t help but cum from feeding your daddy, huh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry, baby omega.” He smirks, giving your sopping pussy a few slaps that make you jump and grip his shirt hard, a newfound neediness inside you. As if cumming once had left you sensitive down there yet still not satisfied, still greedy and panting for more…

“Daddy, I… Daddy, please! Need your knot, daddy please!”

You haven’t been this vocal with your neediness for a long time. Steve wonders if you’re about to go into heat, as if even your own body is telling you that it’s time to get pregnant again. Fuck, that was so hot, and he can’t help but graze his hard cock over your bare stomach, tracing your skin with his precum, making sure his scent is all over you till it seeps into your skin.

“You want my daddy dick, don’t you?” He asks you gruffly, switching to a more authoritative tone. The beast alpha inside of him is roaring awake, a natural response to how needy you’re being. He has this innate urge to control you, subdue you, pin you down and fuck you like an omega in heat deserved to be fucked.

“Yes, please, please, please!” You writhe underneath him, hips bucking up and your hands still trying to grab at his cock, trying desperately to somehow shove it inside your leaking, desperate little hole. Except he cruelly slaps your hands away, making sure he’s in complete control, not an ounce of leniency left inside him.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees. Right now, omega. Present for me.”

He watches as you pant and readily obey him. Your limbs are like jelly after your orgasm but you’re so desperate to obey him that you stumble into position readily. He loves how he never has to alpha-command you, because you’re so naturally submissive that you always listen to him no matter what. And fuck, your ass looks amazing as you get on your hands and knees, pointing it towards him and he can’t help but give it a hard smack, licking his lips at your hot little ass as it jiggles.

“Arch your back a bit more, let daddy see your little fuckhole. Mm, just like that. That’s my good little girl.” He praises you, rubbing your ass where he’s just slapped you. You’re swaying and shivering underneath him, poking backwards in an attempt to create friction. Steve smirks, gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. And that’s when he’s hit with your sweet pussy scent, so hard that he almost loses control right there.

But he manages to control himself, breathing slowly as he stares down at your glistening pussy. Your cream is clear and slippery – an obvious sign that you’re ovulating and extremely fertile. Fuck, fuck, fuck – he can’t wait to fuck his baby into you.

“I’m going to breed the fuck out of you,” Steve informs you lowly, firmly gripping your hips to keep you from thrusting back against him, “it’s about time you were pregnant again, baby omega. You were made to carry my babies, and as my baby wife, that’s exactly what you’re going to do, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy!” You sob, “Please, put it inside me, daddy, please, I don’t think I can wait any longer, I just, I need–

“Tell me what you need.” Unlike you, Steve is better at keeping in control of himself. He has to be, because he’s the one in charge – and the juxtaposition of him being calm and you completely losing it, sweating and writhing naked underneath his still clothed body? God, it was so fucking hot.

“N-Need you! Need your knot!”

“Oh yeah?” He gives your ass another harsh slap, so fucking turned on by how it bounces. He jacks of lightly, rubbing the tip of his cock on your wet slit, making you shudder. “Tell me why you need it, baby.”

“B-Because I do!” You cry, earning another rough smack to your ass.

“Not good enough, baby omega. You have to tell me exactly why you want me.”

You’re crying from frustration now, he can see your delicious tears as they drip down on the sheets below you. He knows you aren’t the best at expressing yourself during sex – you’re mostly just begging him or screaming his name or being delirious. But shy little you articulating in desperate detail why you wanted him inside you? God, the idea of that makes Steve want to bust a nut right then and there.

“C-Cause I… ‘Cause I want you inside me, daddy.” You mumble shyly, but there’s nothing shy about the way your body betrays you, pressing your ass against his cock in a bid to get you to fuck him but all it does is earn you yet another slap on your poor butt.

“Do better.” He orders you, “C’mon, omega, you know you can do better. Tell daddy why you want his big daddy dick, and then I’ll decide whether you deserve–”

“PLEASE, DADDY! Want you so, so bad, please, please, please!” You sob in complete abandon, your slick pouring down your thighs, making them all shiny and the bedsheets beneath you all damp. “W-Want my big strong daddy, please, okay?! Want you to knock me up, daddy, need it so bad! Alpha, please breed me, please–OHHH FUCK!!!”

He drives his dick into you in one hard thrust. And fuck, you are so tight that he almost forgets how to breathe. Your velvety walls feel snug and tight against his thick cock, choking it almost. He feels like he’s in heaven, and that’s when his alpha instinct kicks in and he growls, reaching forward to grab your neck from behind.

“Daddy’s been waiting to fuck you all goddamn day,” he growls, tired of holding back and teasing you, and already moving his hips. He pulls his dick out of you, moaning loudly when he sees it coated in your sticky cream. God fucking dammit, you were wetter than he’d ever seen you before, like dripping your juices all over him and the bed and he hadn’t even done anything yet! “You tease me so fucking much, baby. Running around doing your cute little errands, our baby on your hip and you’re in that sexy fucking dress, all flowery and shit like you want to tease daddy, huh?”

SMACK.

He licks his lips as he spanks your ass repeatedly, his hips a blur as he fucks you hard, skin slapping against skin.

“D-Didn’t mean to tease you!” You pant, meeting his thrusts like you’re in heat, which Steve is genuinely beginning to think you are in heat. And it’s making you all submissive, saying all the right things and saying them so innocently: “J-Just wanna be a good wife for you, daddy. J-Just wanna make you happy, ah!”

“Is that right, baby omega?” Steve grabs you by the hair, yanking you up till you’re on your knees only, your back against his front. His other hand slips around to grab your breast, groping it and squeezing it hard, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. And holy fuck, you start leaking milk out again, and it gathers on his thumb. He latches his mouth on his mark on your neck, making you go lax and your mouth go slack. He shoves his thumb into your mouth, making you suck your own milk from his digit. “God, you’re so fucking kinky, baby. So innocent and cute yet so fucking kinky.”

He roughly pushes you back down, pressing your face into the mattress as the feral animal inside of him takes over once more. When his alpha instincts rile up, he has to exert his complete dominance which is why he’s being extra rough with you. Like now, as he watches you scream and bite at the bedsheets, your voice muffled as he holds you down. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. He could really hurt you if he wanted to, because you were just a small baby omega after all. But he wouldn’t, because he loves you. He may push you over the edge, fuck you real rough and hard, but he’d never physically hurt you.

“G-Gonna make you carry my babies,” he mutters, yanking you back up and pushing you down cheek first against the mattress, so he can hear you cry clearer. “You hear me, omega? You’re my submissive little baby wife and you’re gonna carry my fucking babies.”

“I will, I will!” You sob.

He smacks your butt again, so hard that your knees give out and you fall back against the mattress but he yanks you back up by your hips. He hasn’t been this rough with you in a long time. Definitely not since you’d had the baby. You’d been weak and of course, he’d been barred from having sex with you for a few months. It was agony, but he would never want to hurt you like that. Even when the doctor gave you two the green light to have as much fun as you wanted, even then Steve held back for fear of hurting you.

But now, it’s like there’s something feral overtaking both of you. And maybe it’s because you’re ovulating and most probably at the beginning of your heat. It makes the animal inside of him purr and awaken, take his most alpha form and fuck you with abandon like he’s doing now. And it’s not like you’re complaining, in fact, you’re egging him on! Crying and sobbing and yet you continue to meet each one of his thrusts.

“How does it feel, baby? Being the future senator’s baby wife? Taking my daddy dick in your tiny tight pussy like you were made to do it?”

“L-Love being your wife!” You cry out, sounding so cute and earnest and desperate.

“Yeah? You gonna have the senator’s babies?”

“Yes, senator! G-Gonna have more of your babies, daddy! As many as you want!”

You’re so fucking delirious that you haven’t even realised what you’ve addressed him as, but it makes Steve even harder as he continues to rut against you.

“Fucking shake your ass on my daddy dick, baby. Mm, just like that, fuck! Make yourself fucking cum, omega. Is your little baby pussy gonna cry for me right now?”

His words are like magic, because your walls are already squeezing around his dick as you cum. As if you’re so hell-bent on being submissive for him, so determined to do exactly what he says that your body has somehow managed to orgasm on his command. And it makes Steve feel so goddamned powerful.

“Nngh, daddy! Oh fuck!” You whimper pathetically, and your body collapses on the bed, quivering and spent as your walls constrict around his dick, gripping him for all he’s worth as you squirt around him. Coating his dick with your omega cream, getting him so fucking close but he’s not done yet. He yanks your body back into place, continuing to fuck you hard.

“God-fucking-dammit, baby. You’ve already cum twice, huh? Your little pussy can’t ever hold it in, can you?” He scorns, despite the fact that it had been him who’d coaxed you to cum. All you can do is cry deliriously underneath him, and he knows you’re about to pass out soon. And he can’t help but be turned on at the idea of him still fucking you while you were out of it, and then when you regained consciousness, he’d still be fucking you.

Instead, he pulls out, and you immediately whine at the feeling of emptiness. Frowning and looking like you’re about to burst into tears because his dick isn’t inside you anymore, despite the fact that you were so spent already. Steve wastes no time in flipping you over till you’re flat on your back, and he can clearly see your face streaked with tears. He hikes both your legs up, pinning them on either side of your head. Folding you in half, twisting you like a goddamned pretzel just so when he eventually cums inside you, he keeps it inside you.

“Put it back in, alpha!” You beg so prettily, so breathy and weak and spent but still wanting him, “Please, put it back in!”

Steve smirks, forcing his dick back inside you. And your pussy is so slippery, so goddamned lubricated by your arousal, and yet he still has to force his way back in because of how tight you are. Because of how big and thick he is.

“You look so pretty while you’re getting bred, baby.” He chuckles breathlessly, unable to help pressing his lips on yours. It’s crazy how he feels like an animalistic alpha one second, hell bent on brutally fucking his family into you, and then the next second a glimpse of the loving husband comes out, and he needs to kiss your poor bitten, chapped lips.

And you kiss him back so readily, arms winding around his neck, pulling at his hair. The kiss is messy, and he wants to make it messier. He draws back, pressing his thick fingers between your lips to hold them open. And then he spits right inside your mouth, ordering you to swallow it. Of course, you obey immediately, and he’s so goddamned turned on by how much in charge he is. How in complete control he is. How he’s your fucking daddy, your alpha, your everything. The goddamned senator, the richest and most powerful man in New York, with his submissive little omega wife pinned down underneath him.

“Please breed me, daddy,” you beg lightly, like you’re about to faint. Your eyes flutter, but he gives you such an unbelievably hard thrust that you’re jolted back to consciousness. And he watches you carefully, watches as your eyes widen as you look down. He follows your gaze, letting out a rumble from deep within his chest when he sees what you’re staring at.

His fucking cock. Or the outline of his cock as it pokes out of your lower tummy, like the tip of it was all the way inside your goddamned womb. God fuck, he nearly busted a nut right there.

“So deep,” you marvel, making Steve puff his chest out in pride.

“Damn fucking right, omega. You can feel every inch of my daddy dick, can’t you?”

“Y-Yes, fuck!”

He presses your legs against your chest, licking his lips as he watches where you two meet. Watches his huge fucking dick drive in and out of you like it was your fucking job to take him. Your sopping pussy swallows his cock up greedily, and the lewd sounds of sex mixed in with your moans and Steve’s grunts echo around the room.

“Cute, helpless little fucking omega,” he mutters, watching how your breasts bounce at each thrust, how you cry so prettily for him each time he pistons his big dick inside you. “You were made to take my goddamned, dick, you hear me? You were made for me, baby. I’m your alpha and I fucking own this pussy. I own you and I’ll fucking breed you whenever the fuck I want.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You’d have agreed to anything he’d said at that point.

Steve grabs one of your ankles, kissing up your calf while you moan sexily. And then he licks your foot, teeth tugging at your cute anklet that he’d gifted you a few months ago. It’s got his name on it, another sign of his complete and utter ownership of you. Your toes gleam with white polish and Steve licks his lips, his dick so fucking hard because you are so fucking hot. He can’t help but lap at your foot, kissing up your instep while you moan so fucking loudly. He sucks your toes, the act almost making him bust a nut but he manages to contain himself.

“Gonna keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” He vows, his lips returning to yours. He presses his forehead against yours, forcing eye contact with you, “You hear me, omega? You’re my goddamned wife and from here on out, you’re going to always be pregnant, okay?”

“A-Always pregnant!” You agree weepily.

“Damn fucking straight. And I’ll keep you plugged up with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-Yes!”

“You want daddy’s knot, baby?”

“YES, DADDY! PLEASE!”

Always in perfect sync, the two of you cum at the same time. Steve’s knot swells, locking his dick in place as he blows his load with an almighty roar, spilling his hot seed inside you. His dick is milked by your pulsating walls, your greedy little pussy swallowing all his cum like a good fucking girl as you squirt around him. Both your fluids mingle together, plugged inside by his knot. He angles your hips upwards, just to make sure everything stays inside you.

You’re crying and crying, clutching against him needily as you have another orgasm immediately after the one you’ve just had. And Steve’s still blowing his load inside you, he doesn’t think he’s cum this hard in his whole life, searing you from the inside out with so much cum. Alphas had a lot of cum anyways, but this was an entirely new level. He gently moves his hips, fucking his cum deeper into you, riding you through your orgasm as he cusses under his breath. Your legs shake violently as you cry, burying your head in his chest as you whimper his name over and over again.

Finally, he collapses on top of you, immediately hugging you close and letting you cry into his chest. Smothering you in his heat as you cry due to being overwhelmed, and being fucked so good that you’re delirious and don’t know what else to do.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I love you, I love you so much,” he coaxes you, your entire body shaking against him. You’re so well and truly spent, fucked exactly how you’d wanted to be, how you’d begged to be. And with one last bit of your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist as if to keep him inside you, and you kiss his collarbones and his neck, trying your hardest to catch your breath as you whimper how much you love him too.

It’s only after a good five minutes of this that he finally speaks.

“Baby? You with me?”

You smile weakly up at him, “Y-Yeah, daddy. That was…”

“…I know,” Steve chuckles hoarsely, kissing you all over your face before laying down beside you. You begin to whine at the lack of contact (despite the fact his dick is still inside you) and so he pulls you on top of him, and you lie there with your head on his chest. And he feels so content, his beautiful wife on top of him, naked and sweaty and thoroughly bred as he traces his name on your bare back.

It doesn’t take long for a smug smile to touch his lips, proud of how thoroughly he’s fucked you. But he doesn’t say anything, neither of you do. You just lay there, basking in each other. Steve admits it’s nice, because this is what he’d been missing all day at work. And he loves you so fucking much.

“Baby?” He asks after several minutes.

“Yeah, daddy?”

“You ready for round two?”

THE END SKAFALAL

I think it's safe to say omega is definitely gonna be pregnant again after this one shot!! PLEASE let me know what you think!!! Fav parts, diallogue ANYTHINGGG thank you! ily ily

[lushlovers]

arms, J. Burrow

summary; as joe's preparing for the upcoming season he just gets thicker and thicker in all the best ways

warnings; a little subby joe😋, smut, oral (m receiving), little slut-shaming, pet names, teasing gaaaassssppppp.

word count; 950

note; okay, he's been looking extra good and I just wanna eat him all the way up, I hate this, the abrupt ending yuck, nd also dunno how it went the way it did but it happened so...

"Can you put me in a headlock, baby?" Joe choked on the bite he had just taken, not only at what you'd just said but at the look of pure seriousness on your face. He's still in that tight in all the right places sleeveless shirt, shorts that made his ass look incredible, and the snap-back that had the perfect amount of his hair falling onto his forehead. It's taken you months to get him to grow his hair back out finally and now that you've succeeded you're begging to pull at it while your legs close around his head every chance you get.

After his miniature coughing fit comes to an end you're smiling at him ever so innocently from across the kitchen as he sips his water eyeing you curiously, "I'm sorry, but that's an interesting, request, sweet girl," you shrug, still keeping this faux naive demeanor, and the bedroom eyes you're throwing his way has jokingly him shaking his head and rolling his pretty eyes.

Kissing your teeth as you walk around the counter revealing the fact that your legs are bare in contrast to the sweatpants you were wearing when he had first got home is now an afterthought, he cocks his head slightly to the left, raising his eyes brow, "what brought this on?" However, he's not entirely shocked this is an everyday thing. Holding his welcoming hands out and spreading his legs for you to tuck yourself into him, which of course, you do. "just the slutty, compression shirt, tight shorts combo, also tiktok edits!" you state completely honest, leaning into him and when he doesn't reply with anything other than a snort, you find yourself kissing up his neck, to his jawline, and back down till you meet his shoulder searching for even the slightest reaction.

He sighs, soaking in the feeling of your lips and tongue moving sloppily over the delicate, sensitive spot on his neck that you locate out of sheer muscle memory, absolutely sucking a dark hickey into the skin running along his jugular, "It's not a no, mama. Whatever you want, wanna make you happy." Now, you're smiling against him at just how breathless he sounds over a few sloppy kisses, "No one makes me happy like you, Joey."

as your lips find themselves grazing his bare shoulder, you lace your fingers together, "We better head upstairs, 'fore my mom and dad get here for dinner," when your eyes meet his you find that they've glazed over and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Suddenly it is so damn hot in here, feeling like you need to come in and get some air conditioning after hours in the Ohio sun.

Whatever you were making, now somehow you have completely forgotten what it was, is in the oven, you two have a bit of time and you will be using every millisecond of it to your advantage. Before you both know it, you're on your knees in front of him running your palms lightly over the tent in his shorts as he sits on the edge of the bed watching even your tiniest of movements. He takes the hat he has been wearing and gently places it atop your head, smiling down at you and your teasing fingers, lifting his hips into your touch.

He catches on to the slight tug at his shorts and lifts his lower half for you to remove both items of clothing separating you from his dick, you watch intently as his face contorts and his abdominals flex when your hand wraps around him. He groans from deep in his chest and you absentmindedly press your thighs together, "More, please."

His tone and actions completely radiate submission, and it's rare to see this side of him, and you sure as hell relish in that as you spit in your palm, focusing your attention on the tip alone as he ruts against your hand searching for just a bit more. Using both hands now, one on his cock and the other raking your nails down his thighs leaving goosebumps in your wake. You keep up your teasing and Joe's lost all control, completely unable to sit still and the only thing leaving his mouth is stuttery, 'so good's, moans, and grunts.

The sound of the oven beeping downstairs falls on deaf ears but the obnoxious timer that sounds from your phone does not, completely breaking you from the trance you had seemed to be in, "Oh, there's dinner, maybe you should freshen up, sweetheart," You stand above him momentarily awaiting his reaction, as his jaw goes slack, "baby, two minutes, please? Was so close." Shaking your head, you slip into the walk-in closet finding one of his college football tees and some sweatpants.

"Mom and Dad, remember, Joey?" Upon your exit you find him tugging up his briefs as he heads in the direction of the shower going out of his way to avoid even your hands brushing his, you catch him by his shirt pulling him back toward you, "Tonight, I'll make it all up to you, I pinky promise," poking out your smallest finger, waiting for him to loops his with yours and he does. You step up on your toes to kiss him on his lips, then his cheek, his chin, his jaw, and just before you make it to his collarbone, he grabs your waist pulling you back to prevent any further torture, "'Kay tonight, you fuckin' tease."

As you descend the stairs and head into the spacious kitchen, you hear the shower turn on and exhale a breath you didn't know you had been holding in. Coming to the realization that you both managed to receive the short end of the stick this time, you've gotta finish cooking something nice enough for his mother and he needs a cold, cold shower.

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who despises that shithead #10 for being too rough with his precious baby girl on the field. He can't wait until Gabi's old enough for the all girl's team, but until then, Miguel would have to cope with watching the boys on the opposition get away with completely barreling through his little angel.

soccer dad!miguel who yells over all the soccer moms on the sideline, making sure his booming praise reaches Gabriela and his childishly cruel berating throws off whoever's trying to tackle her as she dribbles the ball up the field.

soccer dad!miguel who loses his absolute shit when Gabi is elbowed to the ground by that #10 kid. His fatherly instincts consume him and without thinking, he storms onto the field cursing at the ref and yelling all sorts of profanities in both Spanish and English. His veins bulge in his biceps and head as he rushes over to console Gabriela, but he swallows his outrage momentarily to crouch down on the grass.

soccer dad!miguel who carries himself with such tenderness when checking to make sure his daughter isn't injured, sighing heavily with relief when he's met with a reassuring smile from the mildly frazzled little girl. That soft demeanour completely transforms into pure protectiveness and anger as he stands up and turns to glare at #10, his tall, tan, muscular body towering over the little boy.

"¿Qué demonios fue eso? Just because you want to win doesn’t mean you have to push and shove. That kind of behaviour is for losers. Weren’t you raised to treat girls with respect?" He scolds, his voice dripping with judgement as his sharp red eyes bore into the poor kid.

soccer dad!miguel who can't help but scoff, unimpressed, when the little boy starts crying, his stature and harsh words obviously scaring the kid as he sniffles and looks back and forth between Gabriela and Miguel apologetically, but he's unable to find his words in the presence of such an intimidating grown up. Miguel’s attention shifts to the young woman rushing onto the field towards #10, a scowl on his face.

“Watch your mouth, asshole. He’s just a kid playing a game, it’s not like he was trying to hurt her!” You yell at the tall, stoic man. You reach out to comfort the little boy, wiping away his tears.

soccer dad!miguel who hasn’t seen such a beautiful girl in his entire life. His ex-wife was okay, but their relationship turned nasty, all remnants of feelings completely soiled by her tendency to lie and cheat. He finds himself checking you out, sharp red eyes lingering on your curves before he feels Gabi hugging his leg and he’s immediately snapped back into his state of disdain and rage.

“Your kid has been roughing my daughter up the whole damn day. Doesn’t seem like a fun game to me.” Miguel counters, patting Gabriela’s head as he glares at you.

“For starters, he’s not my kid. And also, she’s not even hurt! I’ll admit, it wasn’t a clean tackle, but you’re overreacting and you’re making an innocent kid cry.” You scoff, finding this grown man’s behaviour unbelievable as your nephew cowers behind your leg, leaving you and Miguel staring each other down.

soccer dad!miguel who’s aware that he can be a bit overprotective of Gabriela at times, and begrudgingly decides to back down. Especially when you’re looking at him with those beautiful eyes. He’d let this random woman do anything to him as long as she’s looking at him with those eyes.

“Shit… look, I may have come off more aggressive than I intended. I didn’t mean to scare your…?” Miguel begins, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at Gabi and then back up at you.

“Nephew.”

“Your nephew. He just needs to watch out not to do any damage to the other players, especially the girls.” Miguel says softly, trying to be the bigger person for Gabriela’s sake (and also because he wants to distract himself from how hot it was when you told him off)

soccer dad!miguel who forgets about being nice and friendly when you shrug him off with a frustrated “whatever” and walk off hand-in-hand with your nephew. That’s when he looks around in confusion to see that the game had ended and everyone had left the field. Miguel picks Gabi up and kisses the side of her head, although he's still seething at how that #10 got off unscathed and you didn't even attempt to acknowledge his attempts at an apology for losing his cool. He spends the entire afternoon silently dreading the next time the two teams have a game together, because he'll have to endure the sight of that little shit and his aunty with the fat ass.

NEXT PART

[slut4thebroken]

Practice Makes Perfect

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Pairing | stepdad!Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | You go to your stepdad for help… with very pure intentions… obviously. (Heheh)

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, innocence kink, corruption, large age gap, but not under age, hand jobs, oral both m and f receiving, spanking, daddy kink technically, also incest I guess?, groping, thigh riding, praise, a sprinkle of degradation and humiliation.

Words | 7.5 k

Notes | I hope it was worth the wait folks. Also ionno how I feel about this gif but whatever lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You liked making men crave what they could never have, that’s why you dress the way you do. But it seemed like the one man you actually wanted to crave you, never did. Much to your disappointment. 

But you liked doing it in a subtle way, where at first glance, it wouldn’t seem like your goal was to get his attention. You’d wear loose, frilly skirts, always on the shorter side, but not short enough to be too obvious, and tight crop tops that were somewhat see-through. You also liked wearing pretty dresses and knee high socks and dainty jewelry and soft makeup. All of which at first glance would just seem like a cute, unintentionally sexy— yet still in an innocent way somehow— outfit. 

Nothing you ever did caught his eye though. Sometimes you’d forego the bra all together so that your nipples were just barely poking through the thin fabric of your top, but you still didn't get a reaction. So you decided to step it up. 

“Mr. Rippner?” You asked quietly, making him look up from the computer screen as you hesitantly walked in. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Jackson.” He said teasingly.  

“Sorry…” You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks when he gave you a soft smile. 

“What's up?” 

“I can come back later if you’re busy…”

“Never too busy for you. Come sit.” He clicked a few buttons on the computer then gave you his full attention. You dragged one of the arm chairs a little closer to his desk, then sat down. 

“I just… had a question— questions. But I’m scared to ask my mom.” You said quietly, nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt. 

“Scared?” 

“I don’t want her to see me any differently… and I’m scared that asking this might do that.” 

“You can talk to me.” His tone was so genuine that it made you want to tell him anything and everything about yourself, even your deepest secrets. His warm smile wasn’t helping much either. 

“Thank you… So, um— there’s this guy that I like..” He just barely stiffened when you said that. “He’s older,”

“How much older?” 

“A little more than twenty years…” 

“He’s in his forties?” 

“Early fourties, yes.” You said quietly, not able to maintain eye contact any longer. You couldn’t figure out what emotion was on his face right now. “But I really really like him, Mr. Rippner, and he treats me right.” 

“Any man going after you who’s that old will not treat you right.” 

“Oh…” You kept your eyes on your lap as your chest ached. Even though this wasn’t a direct rejection it still hurt. “Sorry.” 

“Hey— no, I'm sorry.” His tone was noticeably softer. “I just worry about you, kiddo.” Your whole face heated up at the name, as it always does. “I'm sorry. If you still want to talk, I'm here for you.” 

“Thanks…” When he didn’t say anything, you took that as your cue to continue. “I- I’ve been having.. bad thoughts about him, Mr. Rippner. And I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t help it. I don’t even really know what he’s making me feel, just that it makes me feel dirty…” His cheek tensed as he clenched his jaw.  

“Inappropriate thoughts, you mean?” He clarified and you nodded in response. “I see. And before I respond, what exactly is it that you’re asking me?” 

“I- I want to impress him… but I’ve never done.. anything. I’m scared I’ll make a fool of myself, so I was hoping… you could help me?”

“Help you?” He choked out. You nodded and bit your lip. “Let me just make sure I’m hearing this right. You want to fuck a man twice your age,” you blushed at his crude words, “but you’re nervous about it… so you’re asking your step father, who’s also twice your age, to help you practice so you feel more confident?” 

“I’m sorry, this was stupid.” You muttered as you got to your feet. 

“Sit down.” His voice was technically still soft, but you could hear the underlying sternness in his tone, so you lowered yourself back down in the chair. “Why me?” 

“I just… I trust you a lot, Mr. Rippner— more than most. I know you’d never do anything to take advantage of me.” You said, even though you hoped he would. 

“And what about your mom?” That made you frown. 

“I didn’t mean it in a cheating way. Just for you to show me what to do— to teach me. That’s not cheating.” 

“Sweetheart…” He started, making your frown deepen. “You understand why this would be wrong other than that, right?” 

“…No.” You did. 

“Not even talking about the fact that I'm twice your age— I’m your step father. This is not something that step fathers teach their step daughters.” He explained gently. 

“Oh.. I guess you don’t have to, then. I can just… ask him to teach me or something.” 

“Absolutely not.” He said sternly, startling you. “Telling him that will practically give him the green light to manipulate and coerce you.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” You frowned. 

“Yes he would. Every man would.” 

“Clearly not every man.” You muttered. 

“Look,” he sighed, “I do want to help you, kiddo, but it’s more complicated than that.” 

“It doesn’t have to be..” 

“But it is.” 

“Are you not attracted to me?” You asked suddenly. “Is that why?” He sighed again and looked away from you, making your stomach churn. “Oh.” You felt like you were about to cry any minute now— this is not going how it was supposed to at all. You felt stupid and embarrassed and you wished you never came in here. 

“I…” he sighed, “It's not that. I shouldn’t be attracted to you, honey. It’s wrong.”

“…But you are?” He said ‘shouldn’t’ so maybe that’s a good sign. 

“It’s doesn’t matter if I am,” 

“I’m attracted to you, Mr. Rippner.” You said quietly, waiting nervously for his reaction. “It doesn’t feel wrong.” He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes as his head tilted back a little. You watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. When he suddenly leaned back up and opened his eyes, they were significantly darker, the pretty, pale blue almost gone now. “Mr. Rippner?” You asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m not going to show you, but I’ll tell you. How does that sound?” You frowned and looked away. 

“Okay… If you think that’s best, I trust you.” You said, silently praying for him to do more than talk to you. 

“Let’s just start off with you telling me what you do know.” 

“Um… Well, I’ve seen people kiss.. and I’ve tried to practice, but it feels awkward and I don’t want it to be weird when it happens.” 

“You never kissed anyone?” His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you in poorly concealed surprise. 

“…No.” You said, voice small. 

“Okay,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, “okay. What else?” 

“I mean… I think I mostly know how the rest of it goes? The part where.. I don’t really do much. It’s the other parts that I don’t know.” 

“You mean foreplay?” You nodded with a blush. “And you know how to practice safe sex, right?” 

“A condom?” 

“That’s the most common way, yes.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I think I can help you out with some of it, but the rest you might just need to practice on your own. 

“But I have!” Your blush deepened when you realized what you just implied. 

“You have?”

“I- I mean.. I just— It…” Nothing you could say would save you. 

“Dirty girl… Do you have a toy hidden somewhere?” He said teasingly and you didn’t know how to respond, not when the real answer is so much more embarrassing and perverted. 

“Something like that..” He examined you carefully, making you feel like he was uncovering every secret you've ever had. 

“Oh I see.” He chuckled. “Creative little minx, aren’t you? What’d you use?” You looked down and bit your lip, feeling far too embarrassed right now. “Hairbrush handle? Cucumber?” 

“Stop teasing me, Mr. Rippner.” You pouted and he gave you a small smile.

“I’ll stop teasing once you stop calling me that.” When your gaze stayed on your lap, he continued. “Where'd you use it? Your mouth or your cunt?” Your head snapped up with a gasp at his vulgar language. 

“Mr. Rippner!” You scolded him, but your cheeks were far too red to uphold the sternness of your reprimand.

“It’s just a simple question, kiddo. You’re going to have to get used to those words if you want my help. I can’t really explain it without saying it.” 

“I- I know. It just caught me off guard is all and um… mouth.” You muttered, not able to maintain eye contact. “But I couldn't do it, it was too hard.” 

“What’d you try to do, sweetheart?”

“I dunno… just— anything that I thought might be right. I didn’t really know what to do.” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Need someone to teach me…” 

“You know that I can’t.” He said softly. 

“But how else am I supposed to learn? Why can’t you just help me?” You pouted, making him sigh. 

“I am helping you.” 

“But….” You were going to beg again, but so far that’s gotten you nowhere, so you decided to try something else. “Fine— I’ll just find someone else!” You said, standing up and turning around to walk out. 

“Sit down. I won’t tell you again.” He said sternly, making you freeze, but not turn around yet. 

“Mr. Rippner…” You finally turned back to face him, but you couldn’t look at him, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,”

“You really don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned and for the first time, you felt a little afraid of him. It was flustered fear, but fear nonetheless. You slowly walked back over and sat down again. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to help you, but you’re not going to tell anyone. Especially your mother. Do you understand?” You couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on your face as you nodded. 

“Come here.” You got back up and walked around the desk, waiting awkwardly for the next instruction. “On your knees.” Your stomach fluttered and you could feel the ache between your legs that you usually get when you’re near him. Slowly lowering yourself to the ground, you placed your hands on your lap and looked up at him as he rolled his chair back and faced you. 

“Do whatever you think is right. I’ll stop you or tell you what to do if you need help.” Even though that made you nervous because there was a higher chance you’d embarrass yourself, you agreed. 

Shuffling forward, you settled between his legs and reached for his belt. The bulge in his pants was already making your mouth water and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. His breath hitched when you accidentally brushed his crotch, but he let you continue until his pants were open enough for you to pull them down a little and reach inside to take out his length. 

You gasped at the size of him and stared at it with wide eyes and slightly parted lips— how is this ever going to fit.. anywhere inside you when it barely fits in your hand? He brushed your hair out of your face and you swallowed thickly as you forced your eyes away from his length to look up at him. 

“Y-you’re… Are they all this big?” You asked nervously, making him chuckle quietly. 

“Not all, but I’m only a little above average.” 

“Oh.” So the average is only a little smaller? That didn’t ease your nerves at all. 

“Just take it slow, kiddo. Don’t rush into it, go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” You were struggling to get yourself to follow the soft demand because of how badly you wanted to impress him. “Start with your hand.” You nodded and swallowed down the lump in your throat as you reached for his length. Tentatively grasping it in your hand, you stroked him slowly, looking up at him for confirmation. “A little harder, love.” You squeezed harder, but immediately pulled back when he winced. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“That’s okay. Here,” he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, moving it slowly. “Like this, okay?” When you nodded, he let go for you to continue on your own. You noticed that his limited reactions seemed to mostly happen when you were at the tip, so you focused on that, rubbing your thumb over the bead of clear liquid on top, making him curse under his breath. 

“You know what that is?” He asked, almost breathlessly. 

“…Precum?” You were terrified of embarrassing yourself by saying the wrong thing, but you vaguely remembered learning that somewhere. 

“That’s right.. good girl. Have a taste.” With a blush from the praise, you tentatively brought your hand up and sucked your thumb into your mouth. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s… watery but a little sweet almost?” He laughed quietly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Keep going.” You started stroking him again, keeping the pace a little slow as you got used to it. “Do you want to try using your mouth now?” You looked up at him nervously, but nodded anyway. “Okay, just suck on the tip while you keep stroking it.” You shuffled forward even closer and placed your free hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you leaned up a little. When you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, he let out a shaky breath and put his hand on top of yours on his thigh. 

“Suck it and flick your tongue over it,” you obeyed and he let out a low moan, “there you go… Keep using your hand.” You hadn’t even realized you stopped stroking him until he mentioned it. 

“Atta girl. You’re a natural, kiddo.” You couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out at the praise, even if he was just teasing you. You continued stroking his length while mouthing at the tip, not sure what to do next. Thankfully he seemed ready to help you with that. 

“You want to draw it out a little so how about you practice kissing, hm?” You perked up at the thought of finally being able to kiss him, but almost pouted when you realized he didn’t mean on his lips. You gave the tip and quick kiss, then looked up at him, asking a silent question of what to do. “Kiss all over it, sweetheart.” You obeyed, working your way down the underside of his cock. “Good girl. Keep going down.” You were quickly reaching the base and you looked up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t think you were just going to suck my cock, did you?” He chuckled, making you frown. You did think that… What else would you suck? “Start with kissing and licking my balls.” That made you pull back as your eyes widened. 

“Your— But… Is that,” 

“You’re not going to impress any man with a mediocre blow job. I’m trying to help you, baby.” You didn’t know that was a thing you had to do… and for some reason it felt dirtier than everything you’ve done so far. He picked up on your apprehension and his teasing smirk dropped into a more serious expression. 

“Hey, we don’t have to.” He said softly, genuinely. “The second you change your mind, we’re done, no questions asked. I can make you some hot chocolate and put on that movie you like and we don’t have to mention this ever again.” 

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat as your gaze shifted between his eyes and his cock. “Can we still do all of that after we do this?” You asked timidly, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile as he reached out to pet your hair. 

“Of course we can, kiddo. I’m pretty much done with work for the day so I’m all yours until it’s your bedtime.” You flushed at the mention of the silly rule he was so adamant about implementing. You told him that you’re an adult and adults don’t have bedtimes and he said that he just wants what’s best for you and that getting a good night's sleep is one of the best things you could do to take care of yourself. You didn’t protest again after that— mostly just because you liked the idea of him having that power over you. 

“Since it’s Friday… could we maybe.. extend my bedtime?” You asked coyly, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He raised his brows as he looked down at you for a moment before letting out a breathy laugh and looking away. 

“You’re getting too spoiled. I might as well start calling you princess.” He said with a sly smile, making you blush. 

“If I’m your princess, does that make you my daddy?” You asked innocently, making his breath catch in his throat, but he recovered quickly and decided to tease you a little. 

“Now where did you learn something like that?” Your blush intensified and you couldn’t maintain eye contact any longer. 

“Heard some classmates talking about it…” 

“Aren’t you a nosy little thing? But no kiddo, that doesn’t make me your daddy. I’m still just plain old stepdad Jackson.” He said with a small shrug. 

“But… if I want you to be?” You asked nervously. He let out a heavy breath that turned into a quiet chuckle. 

“If you want me to be… Then, we'll do a trial run tonight, how does that sound?”  

“Good. Thank you, daddy.” You decided to try it out immediately and it was strange how natural the word fell from your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his cock twitch. 

“Okay, princess. You do a good job and I’ll reward you by pushing your bedtime back an hour.” That made your face light up, but you were feeling bold right now. 

“…Two?” 

“Thirty minutes?” He asked, in the same tone as you, making you pout and accept his original offer of one hour. “Pick up where you left off.” He spread his legs to give you more room to shuffle forward and lean your face close to his length, but instead of aiming for his cock, you went lower. You did as he instructed, kissing and licking them gently. It felt dirty and wrong doing this, but somehow, at the same time, like the most fulfilling thing you've ever done. 

“Now suck one into your mouth.” The second your lips wrapped around one, he cursed under his breath and let out a sigh of pleasure, but it quickly turned into a wince, making you pull back instantly. “Gotta be gentler, honey.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You rushed out, face flushing with shame, and he shushed you. 

“It’s okay. Just do it a little softer.” You hesitantly leaned forward to try once again, now much more apprehensive this time. “There you go…” He cooed, “Few more seconds, then do the same to the other one. Don’t forget to use your hand on my cock while you do this.” You blushed at the crude words but wrapped a hand around his length again to start pumping slowly before releasing him with a loud pop and moving to the other one. His sounds gave you confidence and you flicked your tongue as you sucked, then pulled back to keep licking and kissing while you stroked him. It was hard to multitask though with how overwhelmed you were getting from his scent and his hand holding yours on his thigh and just his closeness. 

You tried not to get too embarrassed when your spit kept building up until it was covering your lips and chin, making you feel even dirtier. But you realized that you like how it feels. You like feeling filthy as you make him feel good. 

You kept mouthing at his balls, occasionally sucking on them, and he placed his free hand on your head, stroking your hair. 

“Fuck… Look at you— Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” He asked teasingly, not giving you a chance to reply before speaking again. “There’s no way this mouth belongs to my innocent little girl.” You blushed, feeling shy at the compliment. 

“Daddy…” You whined against him, never stopping the movement of your hand or mouth. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. You just keep sucking on my balls and stroking my cock. Don’t need to do anything else.” You whimpered and squirmed at his feet, quickly growing uncomfortable with the weird feeling between your legs. 

“Daddy, it hurts.” You didn’t want to disobey him by stopping right after he told you to keep going, so you barely pulled back enough to get the words out. 

“What hurts?” You whined quietly and pressed your thighs together. His gaze traveled down your body curiously. “Your cunt?” You mewled and blushed at the vulgar word, but nodded in agreement. 

“You’re a proper whore, aren’t you?” He chuckled, making you frown and pull back. 

“No…” 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, baby. If sucking balls is what gets you off, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Stop making fun of me.” You pouted, making him smile. “And ‘m not a whore.” 

“Of course you’re not a whore, princess. You’re my whore.” Your entire face heated up and the ache between your legs got infinitely worse. “Isn’t that right?” You whined quietly and he chuckled. 

“Y-yes…” You whispered. “Yours.” 

“My what?” Your expression turned into a pout and you averted your gaze. “Hm?”

“Your— your whore.” You choked out as tears welled in your eyes from the humiliation of it all.  

“Good girl. Keep going.” 

“But,” He gave you a warning look so you ignored the fire in your belly and leaned back in. Your hand picked up again as you tried new things with your mouth on his balls, making sure to repeat the ones that drew any sounds from him. There was even more saliva now and you could feel some of it dripping down your neck to your chest.

“Go a little lower now.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, trying to pull back, but he used the hand on your head to hold you there. “Relax, kiddo. Just a little bit.” He explained, but you were still apprehensive. He pushed you down until your chin hit the chair then pulled you closer, burying your nose into his balls and holding you there. 

“Lick.” He demanded, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be licking. Since you weren’t able to question him, you just stuck your tongue out and moved it as best you could with how close he was holding you to his body. “There you fucking go.” He groaned, bucking his hips against your face. 

“So fuckin’ filthy.” He said through a breath. Despite the degrading words he used, his tone was full of admiration and pride. “Covered in your own spit as you lick my taint.” He chuckled, voice a little darker now. “Work your way back up slowly.” He lessened the pressure on your head and you gave one last lick before moving up to his balls, mouthing at them for a few seconds, then kissing up his length until you reached the tip. You pulled back and looked up at him, waiting for the next instruction eagerly. 

“…I’m on the fence about teaching you this.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“What is it?”

“It’s not necessary for a good blow job, you can leave a guy plenty satisfied with what I’ve taught you so far, but this just makes it even better.” You wanted to make him feel even better so there wasn’t any doubt in your mind. 

“Please teach me?” You asked, even though you still weren’t really sure what he was talking about. 

“Are you sure?”

“Please, daddy.” You whined. 

“Okay, princess. Hands off.” You let go of his cock and placed your hand on his thigh. “Open.” Your mouth fell open and he adjusted so he was gripping your hair, then slowly lowered you onto him. 

“First I want you to show me how far down you can take it.” He kept his grip on your hair, but let you move freely. Slowly forcing yourself down, you looked up at him for a moment before taking a deep breath through your nose and closing your eyes to concentrate. This is what you’re not good at. You kept going down until he brushed the back of your mouth. When you tried to move down even more, you gagged and had to pull off. 

“Good girl. Almost halfway.” You all but beamed at the praise. “I’m going to try holding you there. Pinch my thigh if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded and he gave you a small smile. “Take a deep breath.” You inhaled and let your mouth fall open, waiting for him to guide you down onto his cock. He pushed your head slowly until he reached the back of your mouth, then held you still. You were fine for a few seconds as you breathed heavily through your nose and focused on suppressing your gag reflex, but once it started, you couldn’t stop it and you had to pinch his thigh. 

“That was good, kiddo. You’re already getting better. Just try to keep your mouth open wider so your teeth aren’t touching it, okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry…” You looked away, feeling embarrassed. You didn’t know how you were supposed to open your mouth any wider when your jaw was already starting to ache because of his size. 

“Don’t apologize. You’re learning, you’re bound to make a mistake or two.” He said, easing your nerves. 

“Can I try again?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sank down on his cock voluntarily this time and took deep breaths through your nose as he held you there. You didn’t want to gag, but you could feel it coming anyway. When it happened, you squeezed his thighs to keep yourself from pinching him, wanting to hold out a little longer. He shushed you and used a hand to pet your head while the other held you down as your body instinctively tried to pull up. 

“Good girl. See if you can control it.” You squeezed your eyes shut with a strangled whimper and tried to breathe slowly. “That’s it… I'm going to pull you up a little so you can take a breath.” He lifted you only an inch or so up and you heaved in a shaky breath before he pushed you back down. You weren’t expecting him to actually only let you take a single breath, so you gagged again the second he hit the back of your mouth. This time though, you gagged hard enough to make you feel like you could throw up if it happened just one more time so you pinched him and he pulled you off. 

A string of saliva connected your lips to his cock and you panted heavily, trying to catch your breath and push down the nausea. 

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.” It didn’t feel like you were doing amazing, but you blushed at the compliment anyway. 

“Thank you.” You rasped, giving him a small smile. He cupped your cheek, rubbing the saliva on your lips around a little as he returned the expression. 

“Keep this up and I might consider pushing your bedtime back two hours instead.” Your face lit up at that and he laughed under his breath. 

“Really?” 

“You deserve it.” You smiled and his thumb swiped over your lips again, so you took it into your mouth and sucked lightly. “Christ— You’re going to kill me, baby.” He groaned, making you blush. “Do you think you can try something a little harder now?” 

“I think so.” You said quietly, after reluctantly pulling away from his thumb to speak. 

“I’m going to push you down farther, okay? You’ll probably gag, but I know you can take it.” He pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a reassuring smile. You nodded and moved closer to his length, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to push you down. He did it slowly and stopped once he reached the back of your mouth. Placing both hands on the back of your head, he applied more pressure, but did it quickly. You gagged instantly, but it cut off into a garbled whimper when he breached your throat barrier and pushed you all the way down until your nose was buried in his pelvis and your chin was resting on his balls. 

“Fuck— good fucking girl.” He said through a moan. You tried to stay there despite the intense need to gag, but it was quickly becoming too much. “You feel incredible, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing him curse under his breath as you choked. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you pinched his thigh and he hesitated for a second before letting you pull off. He stroked your hair as you coughed and tried to catch your breath. You looked up at him through teary eyes and his other hand moved to cup your cheek and brush his thumb over your lips that were slick with even more saliva now. 

“How you holding up?” He asked softly and you cleared your throat before responding. 

“Good I think..” 

“Do you want to stop?” Kind of… but at the same time you wanted more. More of this— more of him. 

“No- no… I want to keep going.”

“Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want to hear,”

“‘m not. Wanna keep going.” You whined. 

“Do you want to keep doing this or go back to what you were doing before?” He seemed to like this the most and you wanted to practice so you could get better for him. So even though your throat was already sore, you said yes. 

“This.” 

“Okay, baby. Whenever you’re ready.” You cleared your throat again and tried to even out your breathing before wrapping your lips around the tip again, waiting for him to push you back down. He moved you slowly until he reached the back of your mouth and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even though you were anticipating it, you still gagged when he applied more pressure, and then choked when he finally entered your throat. You were coughing and sputtering around him, each time forcing more spit out of your mouth, making your face heat up when you felt more of it roll down your neck to your chest. 

“That’s it… Good girl.” The moan that escaped you because of his praise sounded more like a garbled, incoherent sound rather than anything else. “Fuck— I’m gonna come, baby.” He groaned, making your stomach flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to pull off so you could breathe and cough, but you wanted to let him finish. So you squeezed his thighs hard enough to make him wince and his hips flinched up, burying his cock even deeper. 

“When I pull out, keep your mouth open.” He rushed out and you could only make a strangled sound in return. His hips were rutting up into your mouth now as he kept a tight grip on your head, not letting you move when your body reflexively tried to pull away. He cursed under his breath, then let out a loud groan, and you felt heat in your throat until he pulled out. You coughed, but tried to keep your mouth open as he stroked his cock in front of you, making more come land on your tongue and around your lips. When his sounds quieted and his hand slowed to a stop, he stared down at you as he panted. 

“Swallow.” He demanded softly. You reluctantly closed your mouth and swallowed, then he swiped up the come that landed on your face and put it on your tongue for you to swallow as well. 

You tried not to let it show in your expression, but you weren’t expecting it to taste like that at all and it caught you off guard. Especially because you were expecting more of the sweet taste that the precum had. 

“Everyone tastes like that?” You asked quietly, making him chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t really know, sweetheart, but I would assume so.” He wiped your tears and the spit from your chin and your stomach fluttered again at the soft, simple action. “You did such a good job. I’m so proud, kiddo.” Your whole face flushed at the compliment, but you didn’t understand why he said it since it didn’t seem like you improved much. 

“Thank you..” You said anyway, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile. 

“Get up here, princess.” You immediately got giddy at the thought of being so close to him and you eagerly climbed onto the chair and straddled his legs, putting your hands on his shoulders. He rubbed up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 

“Do you think you’ve learned enough?” You tried not to frown at the thought of this ending so soon. 

“No…” You muttered, looking down. 

“No? What else can I teach you, baby?” He chuckled. You knew his question was rhetorical, but you answered anyway. 

“I- I don’t know how to… touch myself.” You said with a blush and his eyes widened a little. 

“You don’t touch yourself?” He asked through a breath, almost completely frozen. 

“I’ve tried… I just end up feeling awkward and dumb so I stop. But I need you, daddy, it hurts. Make it go away.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes and a frown. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Fuck— fuck, okay. I’ll teach you, but after that, no more.” 

“Okay.” You agreed, even though you knew you were going to be begging him to keep going when he decided to stop. He took a deep breath and you waited anxiously for him to do something. 

“You have to start slow, build up to it. Women are different from men, they need more than we do to get started.” His hands dragged up your thighs— over your skirt— to your hips, then up your waist, and sadly back down again. 

“Don’t wanna start slow.” You whined, squirming in his lap. 

“You told me to teach you and that’s what I’m doing, princess.” You huffed and looked away from him with a pout. When he suddenly grabbed your cheeks in one hand, then turned you back to face him and pulled you closer, your breath caught in your throat. 

“I don’t want any attitude from you when I’m the one doing you a favor.” He said lowly, but you were distracted by his breath fanning your lips and his grip on your face. “I control how fast or slow we go. Do you understand?” There was that fear again, only this time you subconsciously tried to grind against him. 

“Y-yes.” You whispered, staring at him with wide eyes, getting needier and needier. “Please,” You whined, squirming again, but stopping when his hand moved down to your throat. 

“What did I just say?” He gritted. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— But I can’t take this anymore, it’s torture!” You cried. He stared at you with a dark look that made you nervous and you waited anxiously for what was next. 

“Fine. Up.”

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off then he roughly grabbed your hips and lifted you to your feet. He didn’t even give you a demand before pulling you forward by your hips so that your legs were on either side of one of his. You gasped when he pulled you down and reached for his shoulders to steady yourself. “Grind on my thigh.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, eyes widening even more. 

“If you want to act like a bitch in heat, that’s how you’ll be treated. Hump my fucking thigh or we’re done for tonight.” He menaced, making your whole face heat up. You’ve never heard such degrading words before, especially not aimed at you, and even though you were probably supposed to be upset that he basically just called you a dog… you started moving your hips anyway. 

“You need to learn,” he landed a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out and tighten your grip on his shoulders, “when to fucking listen.” Another spank, this time on your other cheek. “I didn’t have to let you suck my cock, but I did…” When he hit you again, you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t have to teach you how to deep throat,” you let out a choked sob when he hit you again, the hardest so far, “but I did.” He growled, spanking you twice in quick succession. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Look at the fucking mess you’re making.” He roughly fisted your hair and forced your head down so you could see the damp spot on his pants where you were grinding. You whined, getting so overwhelmed with the feeling between your legs and his words and his hands and just him. 

“Get the fuck up.” He suddenly said, making your heart drop. Was he going to leave you like this? All needy and achy?

“Daddy, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, staring at him with puppy dogs eyes and a pout. In response, he just lifted you off of him by your hips and stood up. You protested with a whine, but it cut off when he pushed you in front of the desk and roughly forced your chest down on it. You tried lifting yourself up, but he just placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades and forced you back down. 

“Stay.” He growled, making you stiffen. He flipped your skirt up and you squirmed with a low whine. “No shorts?” He spanked you again and you quickly scrambled for purchase on the desk. When he roughly groped your ass, you let out a quiet moan and squeezed your thighs together, but he kicked your legs apart, not letting you have any relief. 

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off into a yelp when he spanked you again. He roughly cupped your sex and you mewled in response as you pushed your hips back. 

“Such a needy fucking pussy for a virgin.” He gruffed, making you blush, but it only intensified when he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Fuck…” He muttered, then dragged a finger through your slit, spreading your arousal. “Fuck!” You jumped at the sudden increase in volume. Was he mad? He sounded like he was quickly losing his composure and you weren’t exactly sure why or how you could help him. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, roughly gripping your underwear and pulling until he ripped it off of you. “Just shut the fuck up.” 

“Mmph!” He shoved your panties in your mouth before you could even register what was happening. He ignored you and roughly groped your ass again, pulling you apart to spread your holes and cursing under his breath. When wetness and heat replaced the chilly air on your clit, your hips flinched back toward the pleasure as a surprise moan escaped you. 

He licked over you slowly, still having a firm grip on your ass to keep you spread open. Moving up to your hole, he licked and sucked, making a loud, vulgar slurping sound that had you whining from embarrassment. 

You whimpered, hiding your burning face in your arms. He lapped up your arousal for a while before going back down to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You choked on a whimper at the sudden, intense pleasure, making him chuckle against you. 

Your knees shook and you moved your hands to grip the desk, trying to ground yourself, but it was just so fucking intense. Eventually, your legs got too weak to hold you up and all of your weight was resting on the desk with the hard wood digging into your hip bones painfully. 

You whimpered, feeling your stomach tighten with arousal even more, but let out an anguished sob when he suddenly pulled back. Your head was spinning with how fast he lifted you off of the desk and sat you down on his chair, removing the makeshift gag.

He pulled your hips to the edge and dove back in eagerly. Your hands landed in his hair as you rocked your hips against his face, moaning and whining at the new feeling— you could already tell you were getting addicted. Moving down to your hole, he lapped up your arousal and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making your stomach feel even tighter.  

“If you let that… that fucking pervert anywhere near you I swear to god you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled and you moaned at his words as well as the sudden possessiveness in his tone. “This pussy is mine. Do you understand?” You mewled and tugged his hair, trying to pull his mouth back on you, but he was stronger. 

“Y-yes. Yours, daddy.” You whined, tugging harder. “Please!” You cried, when he still wouldn’t give in. “It’s yours, daddy! I’m all yours.” You sobbed out, grinding your hips in hopes of getting the stimulation back. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He gruffed, only leaning back down after you obeyed. His mouth took over his thumb again and he reached up to grope your breast as he sucked on your clit in an almost feral manner. “Who’s tits are these?” He mumbled against you, starting to toy with your nipple now. 

“Yours.” 

“Who’s allowed to see them?” He switched hands, giving your other nipple the same treatment. 

“Only you.” You said through a breath, feeling the coil in your stomach get impossibly tighter. 

“Who’s allowed to touch them?” 

“Only you, daddy. Please!” He didn’t respond, he just worked harder and faster on your clit until you fell over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and pulled on his hair hard enough to make him hiss in pain. But that was overshadowed by the feeling flooding your entire body, making you tremble and writhe as you rutted against his face. You weren’t lying when you said you don’t touch yourself, but now that you know what an orgasm feels like? You might start trying honestly. 

Once your body sagged into the chair and your sounds died down, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. You were panting, still trying to calm down even though you were practically dizzy with pleasure. You felt warm hands running up and down your thighs, soothing you, and you gave him a dopey smile as your eyes fluttered open to look down at him. 

“You’ve got quite the grip on you, kiddo.” He chuckled, making you blush and loosen your hands in his hair. 

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, trying to rub his scalp a little to soothe the ache he must be feeling from you pulling so hard. 

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded wordlessly. “I… I didn’t mean to get so harsh. I just worry.” 

“I know, it’s okay. I won’t go near him.” It felt like you were hit with a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden. Is that what orgasms do? Make you sleepy?

“Good girl. You tired?” When you nodded, he chuckled quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up really quick. Wait here.” As if you could stand on your wobbly legs. You thought with an internal scoff. He left the room and returned with a damp washcloth a minute later. He started with your face, gently wiping the mascara from under your eyes and the dried spit around your mouth, trailing down your chest. Once that was cleaned up, he went even lower. You jolted when the cloth brushed over your folds. 

“I’ll be quick.” He said, trying to soothe you. He wiped the area gently and you couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped out when he brushed your clit. “None of that.” He reprimanded you softly and with a smile. When he finished, he pulled your top back down and fixed your skirt. 

“Do you still want that hot chocolate and movie?” You nodded with a lazy smile and he chuckled before picking you up and carrying you to the living room. He set you down on the couch gently and laid a blanket over you, then kissed the top of your head. As he was walking to the kitchen, your brain was already starting to come up with new ways to get this to happen again. You still have so much to learn, after all. 

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[pupyuj]

The nation needs more Older G!P Stepsister Yujin 🗣🗣🗣

i actually don’t remember if i’ve written stepcest w yuj before and if i have it must’ve been forever ego so here’s a little food for ya’ll, courtesy of vexie 💕

annoying older stepsis yuj x spiteful bratty younger stepsis reader… well yes! 🥴 you and yujin hating each other the moment you met 😭 only playing nice when your dad and her mom are around bcs they want nothing more than to see their daughters getting along despite this odd situation they’ve put the two of you in ☹️ but as soon as they leave for work… yujin would spend the entire day annoying you, pulling pranks, insulting you, and sometimes even slutshaming you bcs she knows about your reputation in your university… which just so happens to be her own university’s nemesis in terms of sports (since she plays for her uni’s women’s soccer team and all) 🤓☝️ but sometimes you get the upper hand! there are days where yujin is too exhausted to bother you, merely giving you a dirty look before dissolving into the soft couches and watching her favorite shows for hours on end… and that was where you got the wicked idea to play into this whorish reputation your fellow schoolmates have given you!

see, ahn yujin may be to worst thing that has ever happened to you but she also just so happens to be criminally attractive so as messed up as it was, considering that you’re technically family, you were super into her! bcs come on! pretty, tall, hits the gym regularly, and is also very obviously interested bcs she was never at all subtle when staring at your ass while you walk around the house?? yujinnie was basically asking you to seduce her.. and that you did! coming down from the stairs wearing the nastiest pair of booty shorts and a thin tank top that you owned and having to hold back a triumphant smirk when you spotted yujin physically perking up at the sight of you… like a puppy that was eyeing her newest toy 🤭

gosh you did every cliche seducing tactics in that living room it was almost embarrassing 😭 bending over at the right angle for yujin to stare at your ass while you take the remote control from the coffee table, making sure that you have to walk in front of her before sitting down on the empty spot beside her, letting one strap of your tank top to fall down your arm and making sure your top was loose enough for yujin to see the slightest bit of your tits… well, suffice to say you were successful! and you knew bcs yujin immediately put a pillow on her lap to cover up her crotch as soon as she felt her jeans tightening up 🫣🫣 you would’ve loved to tease her more since it felt so so good being the one who was doing the tormenting for once but you were just a girl! you needed your holes filled and yujin had the right tool for that!

she was hogging a bowl of popcorn allll the way to her other side so you had to reach over just to steal a few, and ofc you didn’t miss the way yujin’s eyes flickered down from you lips to your breasts,, she immediately looks away though! swallowing hard and pretending like she’s not at all bothered 🤭 on a normal day where you weren’t dressed like a common whore she would actually argue with you over getting your own damn bowl of popcorn but not today! she was now thinking with her dick and you couldn’t fucking wait to make fun of her about it 😝 tomorrow. after she’s done breeding you tonight 😋

“being called a slut in campus not good enough for you? you have to look like this at home too?” yujin asks just to get some sort of control over the situation but it was too late 🥺🥺 sitting closer, blinking your eyes with faux innocence and saying, “seems like you like it though. don’t you, unnie?” well fuck! you never call yujin ‘unnie’ unless you’re talking with your parents and in this situation, there was nothing pure about the way you said it so yujin was just a fucking mess 😭 she doesn’t know what to do with herself! you almost pitied her—you just knew that her poor cock was begging to be free from her jeans… and ofc you promised your dad that you would be a good stepsister to your yujin-unnie and you wouldn’t dare break that promise! 🫢 putting the bowl of popcorn away and having to rip off that damn pillow from her lap, you straddled yujin and… well, the rest, as they say, is history! 🫣

one minute the two of you were messily making out and touching each other everywhere with clumsy hands and the next she has completely (and literally) ripped your tank top and pulled your shorts off, pinning you down the couch and what surprised you was how yujin didn’t even bother to take your panties off… she decided that the pair looked way too good on your skin so she merely pulled it to the side before ramming her cock inside you, and now both of you were thinking about nothing but each other! 🤗💕 thank goodness your parents were not home and your neighbors on either side as well as across were away bcs the two of you were so fucking loud and the curtains were not at all closed!! like fuck, it’s almost as if the two of you jumped straight out of a porn video 😭

one would think that people who hate each other as much as the two of you did would be cursing the other even at this moment where you were fucking like rabid animals but nope! both of you were too lost in pleasure to have anything that ain’t moans leave your mouths 🤭 it only drove yujin even more crazy when you wrapped your legs around her waist, encouraging her to fuck your harder… the wet noises of skin slapping against skin pushing you closer and closer to your climax… yujinnie’s bites and little whines making you fucking wish that your parents get home late bcs fuck, you need to hear more of her like this! 🥴

it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum.. but what bothrred you is that yujin fucking pulled out! however, she does notice your annoyance… way after she has spilled every drop of her cum on your stomach and thighs.. “later.. in my room… i have condoms.” poor baby was too tired to even speak! 🥺 “no, idiot. don’t wrap it up. fucking cum inside me.” you demanded 😭 ofc yujinnie folds bcs who was she to deny a pretty girl of her seed, yk!? “fine! but don’t fucking cry to me if you get pregnant.” oh she was pissed at being pushed around but literally the next second she rests her head on your chest and snuggles into you for warmth ☹️💞💞

when your parents came home, they spotted the two of you cocooned into a warm blanket in the couch as you watched a fun movie together, cuddling like the sweet ‘sisters’ they always saw the two of you as 🫢 but as soon as they busied themselves in the kitchen, your hand slides inside yujin’s boxers and her own cups your ass… nothing innocent about the two of you at all 😭

[princessbrunette]

thinking about pissed off jj calling lamb!reader lamb chop after like her being annoyingly crass and blunt the whole day😔🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

“look. we told your mommy that we’d look after you today and that’s exactly what we’re doin’ alright so — c’mon, all aboard.” jj reaches to you from the boat, his hand outstretched to help you on. the rest of the pogues watch you through curious lenses, waiting to see if you stray from your usual straight arrow ways. “arms gettin’ tired here, tuts.”

“tuts?” john b screws up his face as he mans the steering wheel.

“felt right.” jj shrugs one shoulder before waving his hand at you. reluctantly, you take it— letting him help you into the boat.

“no funny business. my curfew is 6, i hope you know that.” you fold your hands onto your lap, directing your comment towards john b who was driving the boat therefore responsible for your safe return in your eyes. in response, he salutes — more focused on getting the thing started. kiara rolls her eyes, still not sold on you, pope nods trying to be respectful and jj grins.

“theeeeres my little bible basher. y’know i went to sunday school right?” he clumsily shuffles over up to your side making you frown, side eyeing the blonde who was so entertained by your presence.

“thats rude, and no you didn’t.” you practically stick your nose in the air.

“uh, yeah, i did —” he squabbles, turning his body to face you more. you mirror this, eyeing the annoyingly handsome guy opposite you. “how’d you think we knew so much lore on the cross your mom was lookin’ for a while back. i already learnt about it. sunday school.” he taps your nose making you crinkle it. for a little priss, you sure were adorable.

“hm.” you tilt your head, eye squinting shut from the direct sunlight as you smile, impressed. “didn’t have you pinned as the type.”

“oh yeah?” he blinks.

“the guys at my sunday school were usually well mannered and well groomed.” you state, not even attempting to be rude — but your blunt ways got your message across. pope and john b chuckle, even adding insult to injury with a quiet “burn.” and even jj smirks, leaning back against the edge of the boat.

“well, i’m here to challenge your expectations, lil lamb.” he grins and you tilt your head.

“little lamb?” you question and he whips his hat off his head quickly to run long fingers through matted, sun damaged hair.

“uh, yeah? y’know — you’re little-r than me… n’like — you know? lamb? pure, virginal, cute…?”

“gross!” kiara shakes her head in quiet exasperation.

“you choose to nickname me based on my abstinence and devotion to the lord? well i find that rather crass.” you’re back to sticking your nose up and jj is throwing his hands in the air like he did nothing wrong.

“damn, alright lamb chop. my bad.”

you turn your head slowly to look at him, blinking innocently.

“lamb chop?”

(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡

[anniebeemine]

Mom’s Night Out- s.r. x fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, pure fluff

“You deserve a night out. You know you do,” JJ said firmly, her arms crossed as she stood in your living room.

You’d given a vague answer when they invited you out earlier in the day. Now, JJ and Emily were standing in your home, probably judging the sloppy bun at the nape of your neck and the rag thrown over your shoulder.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. But it’s just...”

Emily cut in, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just what? They’re six months old, Y/N. Spencer’s more than capable of handling one night on his own.”

“I don’t know, ladies.” You looked over at Spencer who was currently talking over his shoulder to the baby strapped on his back, his hand cradling the baby on his front. They were going through a phase where they couldn’t sleep unless they were being bounced. “He’s never been alone with both of them.”

JJ and Emily exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of encouragement and mischief. “Come on, Y/N,” JJ urged, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “He’s going to be fine. You need a night out.”

“Yeah,” Emily chimed in, her tone playful. “It’s just a few hours. Spencer can handle it.”

You bit your lip, glancing back at Spencer. He was now making silly faces at Anthony, who giggled in delight, while Daniel babbled happily on his back. “I don’t know…” you hesitated, your protective instincts kicking in.

Spencer caught your eye and smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Go have fun. The boys and I will manage.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. “Alright, but if anything happens, you call me immediately,” you warned, giving him a pointed look.

You disappeared upstairs and found an old dress and let your hair fall into crunchy waves. You ran a straighter over the waves in an attempt to smooth them out. Forgoing makeup, you met your two friends downstairs. You reminded Spencer to have the boys back in bed before long.

“Or else they’ll be up early and-“

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I’m telling you think because I love you, but go,” he said softly. “Get out of here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, placing a kiss to the twins’ scalp before placing one on Spencer’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last look at Spencer and the boys, you headed out the door with your friends, a sense of freedom washing over you. Spencer watched you go, the door closing behind you with a soft click. He turned his attention back to the twins, smiling at their innocent faces. "Alright, boys, it's just us tonight," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's show Mommy we can handle this."

“To the bar!” Penelope cheered as you got into the backseat with Emily.

“I thought we were going for dinner?” You said meekly.

Emily wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “We can get food at the bar.

-

It was well past midnight when Spencer's phone rang, waking him from a light sleep. He answered quickly, hearing your slightly slurred but happy voice on the other end.

"Spence, I need a ride home," you said, giggling.

Spencer rubbed his eyes and glanced at the twins, who were sound asleep in their cribs that had been stationed in your bedroom. "Okay, where are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“JJ’s.” You hicupped. “Called an Uber.”

Spencer smiled despite his grogginess. "I'm glad you did. I'll be there soon. Just stay with Penelope, alright?"

"Yes, sir," you teased, your giggle echoing through the phone.

He got up and gently transferred the sleeping twins into their car seats, taking extra care not to wake them. Once they were securely fastened, he carried them to the car and headed to JJ's house.

When he arrived, you were waiting outside with JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all of you looking a bit worse for wear but incredibly happy. You were slumped against the porch railing. You spotted him and ran over, nearly tripping in your excitement. Emily handed Spencer the shoes you’d kicked off earlier.

"Spence!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. "You're my husband!" You turned around to the girls, practically parading Spencer around as he smiled widely. “You guys are not going to believe how amazing this guy is,” you slurred.

He chuckled, catching you before you could fall. "Let's get you home."

“My babies!” You whisper shouted, climbing into the front seat. Spencer tried to help you as you wiggled over the console and into the backseat, settling between the two car seats.

You leaned over to Anthony, placing a kiss on his cheek, then on his forehead. You did the same to Daniel. Spencer smiled at the red lipstick smudged over his son’s faces. “Are we ready?”

You nodded giddily, one hand on each twin. As the car started moving, you let out a dramatic sigh. "Spence, I need something greasy," you slurred, your eyes half-closed. "Like, fries. And a burger. So greasy."

He chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. "Alright, let's find you some greasy food."

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby burger joint, ordering your favorite meal. As he waited for the food, he glanced back at the boys, who were still sound asleep, then over at you, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Once he had the food, he parked the car in the lot and handed you the bag. You eagerly tore into it, a blissful smile spreading across your face as you took the first bite of your burger.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," you mumbled around a mouthful of food. "You're the best, Spence." You leaned across the console, running your hand up his arm. “Like the greatest freaking husband ever. Like ever.”

“Am I?” He teased, placing a fry between your lips.

You nodded, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “Like so great. You-“ you turned away to let out a small burp, “you took care of my babies. Our babies.”

Spencer laughed softly, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "Of course I did. They're my babies too."

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes briefly as you savored another bite of the burger. "You don't know how much I needed this," you said, your voice softer now.

Spencer watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with affection. He adored you in every state, but seeing you so relaxed and happy made him fall in love with you all over again.

"Anything for you," he said quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You deserve it."

You finished your meal, your head starting to droop as the exhaustion from the night caught up with you. "I think I'm gonna pass out," you mumbled, leaning your head against the front seat.

As he drove the rest of the way home, he kept glancing over at you, your peaceful expression bringing a smile to his face. He felt incredibly lucky to have you and the boys, and he couldn't imagine life without you. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he carefully carried the twins inside first, tucking them into their cribs before returning to the car to help you.

You were half-asleep by then, but you managed to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you. "You're my Spencer," you mumbled again, your head resting against his shoulder.

Spencer carefully helped you out of the car, your arms looped around his neck for support. You were still slightly tipsy, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stumbled into the house.

"Let's get you out of that dress," he said softly, guiding you to the bedroom. He gently unzipped the back of your dress, helping you ease out of it and into something more comfortable. Just as you were about to thank him, a wave of nausea hit you hard.

"Oh god," you groaned, rushing to the bathroom with Spencer close behind. You barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up, the remnants of your burger and alcohol making an unpleasant reappearance.

Spencer knelt beside you, holding your hair back and rubbing soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, just let it out," he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring.

When you were finally done, you slumped against him, utterly exhausted. He grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cool water and gently wiping your face. "There we go," he said softly, his touch tender. "Feel a little better?"

You nodded weakly, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful for his care. "Thank you," you whispered, leaning into him as he helped you back to the bedroom.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You were out before you could respond, the exhaustion and the alcohol pulling you into a deep sleep.

When you finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky, indicating it was well past noon. You groaned, your head pounding as you dragged yourself out of bed. Padding to the living room, you found Spencer on the floor with the twins, stacking blocks and making them giggle.

"Never drinking again," you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Spencer looked up, a knowing smile on his face. "Was it the green fairy?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You squinted at him, confused. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he said with a wink, turning back to the boys.

You plopped down on the couch, watching as he played with the twins. Despite the rough night, seeing him with your sons brought a smile to your face. "You're amazing, you know that?" you said, feeling a surge of love for him.

He glanced up, his eyes warm and affectionate. "I just want to take care of you," he said simply. “Open my phone. There’s a picture of you guys.”

Curious, you reached for his phone on the coffee table and unlocked it. The screen displayed a photo of a drunk you between the two car seats, your face beaming with a silly grin. The next photos were of the twins, fast asleep, with smudges of red lipstick on their chubby cheeks.

You took a sip of Spencer’s coffee, chuckling as you mumbled, "I have no idea where the red lipstick came from."

[gojoshooter]

Little Yuji and big brother Sukuna

an. for I'm in my Sukuita phase <33

Thinking about little Yuji in his Chuku-nii's lap eating a popsicle as his big brother wipes his messy mouth with a caring frown.

Little Yuji is too good to be scolded, always being polite when he points at the icecream shop with big golden-brown eyes looking up at him “Pwes, pwes, Chuku-nii” the highschooler can barely resist the tiny tot's wishes. Although he is a little clumsy with his tiny fingers, struggling to hold the dripping ice and getting some on his school hoodie.

“Tsk, brat. Here give it to me,” Sukuna can be mean to anyone breathing but his little brother. “Suku-nii will hold it for you.” the beaming chubby smile on the five year old almost blinds Sukuna; he swears to god.

-

Baby Yuji triggers the worst cute agression deep within Sukuna (and i take it back, he can be mean) which surfaces in the form of his ever the jerk urge to make Yuji cry so he can scoop his lil pink weeping fluff and sooth him, bouncing lightly. And Yuji not being the sharpest crayon in the box would cling to his chest, pouting while Chuku-nii dries his tear-dampen red face. Sukuna lives for this, wakes and sleeps for his pure innocence.

“There, there. Suku-nii was joking brat, he's not eating you”

“Hah... sorry Yuji, I'm here, are you really scared of jump scares?” a kiss on the fat cheek, chuckling at the little boy's cuteness “I'm here”

-

And apparently it has been way easier to feed healthy meals to little Yuji than him, according to his mom.

“Who's the best boyyy?” Sukuna would drawl and the five year raises his short arm the highest he can, though being the only one being fed in the room. “’tadori!” and thankfully he has learnt to not speak further when the food has been stuffed in his little buccal cavity.

Nothing can make his day better than his little brother looking up at him expectantly with a mouthful of food.

“And who's the best big brother, little Dori?” “Chukunaaa” the elder would chortle, head thrown back because who the heck is more precious than his little petal. Taking the chance, he puts the plastic spoon full of veggies inside him, grin plastered with affection.

masterlist !!

ps. i love babies who have a hard time pronouncing names🥺🤧 shut up you cute lil flower bud

tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @4sat0ruu @pretty-toru @whodoesthatanymore

[svuguru]

I'm begging you pls I'm on my knees 🛐🛐🛐 pls do a step bro noritoshi x step sis 😭😭🛐 pls grant this pleasure to a peasant like me 😔🙏🛐😮‍💨

"Ahh, 'toshi, it hurts!" You whine, looking up at Noritoshi with pleading eyes. All you get in response is a gentle pat on the cheek a kiss to your nose.

"s what happens when you've never done this before..." Noritoshi explains in a soft voice as he keeps his hips steady. "Don't worry, it'll feel better in a bit, just wait," and you nod, watching as his hand travels down to your naked tummy, rubbing it gently with his caring hand.

He's not even moving and the stretch is already too much—you can feel his veins against your warm walls and you're already dripping on his cock.

"Okay, 'm gonna move now, alright?" Noritoshi smiles in a reassuring manner, so you can't help but release a faint whimper and nod yet again. "But you gotta be quiet, mom and dad can walk through that door any second..." And that should really make you nervous, but it doesn't—instead, you're tight hole clenches around his fat dick at the thought of it.

"Mhm," you hum, "move, please!" Your eagerness pulls a chuckle out from Noritoshi's throat. You're so innocent, so pure and naive, and in some sick sense, it makes him want to ruin you.

Unfortunately, he can't—he can't bring himself to be so rough on his precious little stepsister, especially since this is her first time! That's the thing, too, you're his beautiful stepsister so who better to take your virginity than your generous stepbrother? It's not like anyone could ever love you more than him.

Carefully, Noritoshi pushed his hips forward, drawing a loud gasp from you. Your nails dig into his broad back on instinct. You can feel his veins slide inside you, his girth already overwhelming you.

"Please, y'too big!" You cry as your eyes go watery, cheeks flushing and a pout pulls at your lips.

"Shh, shh, I told you it'll hurt a bit at first.. but you gotta ease into it, 'kay?" Noritoshi keeps his tone quiet and his voice soft as a way to calm you.

"Uh-huh, mkay," one hand flies up to your mouth to muffle the embarrassing noises that leave your plump lips. "Don't... Don't be mean, please!" Your voice is just too cute to deny, too sweet, it almost makes Noritoshi's heart melt.

"Oh, of course, of course," he murmurs, "don't worry. Jus' lemme do the work and you relax, okay?" And he seals that with a kiss to your lips.

sorry I didn't write the actual fucking lol .. I've never written for him before but I'd love to write for him more.

[depresssant]

'it's an american wedding. they don't mean too much. we were so in love.'

yandere!gojo x reader

synopsis : a simple senior year predicament landed you in a cage you were sure was bound to drive you insane.

it was always survival over luxury for you

amongst the rich kids, you were like a penny in a pile of a hundred dollar bills. seeing people with expensive cars and brand clothes that probably cost thousands of dollars never really mattered to you. you came from a very poor background and it never really mattered to you because there was nothing wrong with being poor. you really couldn't care less since some people were just unlucky. like you.

however, you didn't know what you were doing in a place like this.

everybody deserved the chance to climb out of poverty to live a good life. that was a belief you held onto firmly because it was the only thing that you kept you going, but you did not belong in an estate like this.

but now here you were, and you couldn't regret it more than you did right now.

"what the hell, satoru?"

the bane of your existence tilted his head and furrowed his brows in that manner that captured the hearts of everyone. if only they saw. if only they knew. if only they realized who this wolf in sheep's clothing truly was⏤that this persona of a kind, cheerful, and loving guy everybody knew and loved wasn't who he truly was. he was the devil walking amongst humans, and he was fooling them all.

"what?" he asked all innocently with his teasing grin and flirty eyes that finally weren't hidden behind those sunglasses that he wore everywhere.

"dinner with my mom? what the hell is wrong with you?"

"she invited me over, babe. what was i supposed to do? reject her offer?"

gosh, he was insufferable. he knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't want to admit it. the idea of his new, profound actions had made that pit of unease which settled in your stomach grow with each little skin-crawling thing he did.

this wolf sauntered around helpless sheep, picking them out one by one until he reached his prey. you. the thing was, you didn't know why he was so fixated on you.

that was the worse part.

he was out to get you, and you couldn't do anything but wait.

and satoru had now picked out your mother.

"leave her alone! she's got nothing to do with this!" you hissed out like a feral cat, but you were good at controlling your emotions. this rolling stone just managed to bring out the worst in you⏤the ugly you didn't know existed.

satoru laughed and wrapped his arms around you in a suffocating hug as he smothered himself into the crook of your neck. "relax." his arms tightened the second you tried to move around. it was a warning. "is it wrong for me to meet my wife's mom? besides, your mom is an amazing cook. i can see where you got your skills from."

your mom.

the three days since you hadn't seen her felt like an eternity. was she worried? was she lonely? was she concerned about this “friend” you were having a sleepover with? considering your history, you wouldn't be surprised if she tore up the entire neighborhood looking for you before you were finally allowed to message her.

satoru's attention on you was like working a full time job in which you only clocked out when you fell asleep. even then, he found ways to ruin it for you, either with his helicopter behavior or die hard need to be touching you every second of the day.

your silence was something he didn't like, so he squeezed your body under his hold. that was enough of a threat. holding back a sigh, you reluctantly returned to running your fingers through his silky, pure snow-colored hair that surrounded his beautiful face like a halo. how could a person this beautiful be so vile?

if only you could save your mother from his poisonous claws.

"you know, your mother told me a few things about you."

"... what did she say?"

his sapphire blue eyes flicked up to stare into your eyes, and time came to a standstill when he smiled. he smiled like an angel but loved like the devil. if the devil could even love. you didn't want to admit that every time you looked into his eyes, your breath halted like the world around you. it went against your deep-rooted hate for him, but you'd be damned if you didn't crumble like ash when he set you on fire with his mere gaze.

satoru explained how your mother gushed and ranted on about how hard-working you were, how you were kind and caring, and how you needed a partner who would support you when times got difficult. he teased you about baby pictures of you, and you questioned whether this really was the same scrawny guy you saved from a bunch of bullies.

back then, he looked completely different from how he did right now. he wasn't some hot jock with a body that girls fan-girled over, no. he was a tall and scrawny kid with broken glasses, a busted lip, and bruises that told you he was clearly being bullied by his peers.

that fateful summer day, you were just taking a stroll through the neighborhood when he came tumbling towards you with four kids you knew all too well. ordering satoru to get behind you, you had beaten the crap out of everyone of those guys and patched him up at your home before walking him all the way back to his house.

he had vowed to meet you again, and well, he had done it.

that kid was so much more different than the guy you knew now, and you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a little solemn about it. he had changed for the worse. you should've know that when he made another appearance in your life. those four guys had disappeared.

satoru just followed you around like a bubbly guy trying to rope a grumpy and moody girl into a friendship, but you could do nothing but regret it now. he tailed you around to get evidence of you and your illegal “activities”. to threaten you.

you wished you never even saved him from those bullies that day. the thing was that you got into tussle with the police quite a lot. you got into fights a lot and had landed up in jail for the fifth time before getting released on probation. the deal was three strikes and you would land up in the slammer permanently. you were two strikes in when satoru got a video of you in a fight...

he used it to threaten you.

that was three months into school, and he had wound up with you in an abandoned warehouse near the place holding a party where the two of you were. he proposed his deal leading to you nearly going ballistic, but those three digits dialing the police were enough to make you settle down. 

satoru's deal was simple. if you became his girlfriend, then he wouldn't show the video to the police.

typical rich kid shit.

of course, he would use any means to get what he wanted. you were no exception.

reluctantly so, you accepted, and the seven month of agony begun. the smothering touches, the constant need to be near you, the controlling and obsessive behavior, the tracker in your phone? he was batshit insane!

you were a very patient person, though. rumors and history stated that most of his girlfriends lasted a maximum of a month before he got bored, so you waited. you waited, waited, waited, and waited! that was your fatal mistake.

how stupid of you.

one evening before prom changed it all.

the cool autumn breeze of the california evening blew at your loose strands of hair, the large palm trees casted shadows that fell down the lukewarm sand of the beach as clear and sparkly waves running along the orange and pink horizon crashed upon the shores, singing a faint tale of time.

"marry me."

staring at that blue diamond encased in a gold ring decorated with silver, you couldn't have helped but feel like chains had begun to wrap around you like boa snakes... slowly beginning to squeeze the life out of you.

satoru's eyes were bright and glowing like the colors of the diamond, and they looked up at you sinisterly with that grin that seemed to make the entire world fall apart around you. 

"we'll go to the courthouse tomorrow. who gives a damn about the elders?" his voice was pleading, but there it was. that tone. he spoke like he was stating. not pleading. "we'll have an american wedding."

and an american funeral.

for when he put the ring on your finger, you died.

...

the sun set, and you looked at the snake wrapped around your ring finger. it glimmered under the dim light of the bedroom like the glowing eyes of a predator staring from the shadows. 'you two were so in love with each other that it had driven the both of you insane!' satoru had claimed, but maybe...

maybe it was just you who had gone insane.

[kalki-tarot]

LOVER — Their Secret Desires 🖤

@kalki-tarot

pick only one picture that call you out the most.

In this reading I'll tap into your lover's energy and their desires related to you. This does not apply for crushes. But can be applied when both parties are in love with eachother and aware about each other's feelings of love.

This reading is just for fun & entertainment purposes and i am not responsible for any decisions you make on behalf of this reading.

Pick a pile masterlist 🖤✨️

Pile 01

Knight of Swords, the magician, Nine of pentacles, the Sun, Three of wands, king of wands, king of cups, death, knight of wands, ace of cups

They want to do adventurous things with you, like sneaking out or exploring and unknown city at night. They definitely have a lot of passion for you in their heart and they may not express it most of the times. But their feelings are very intense and spontaneous for you.

They want to build and empire with and for you. They want to make you the King/Queen of it. Like they wanna provide you everything you need. And will let you rest while they do the work. They see you as their team. And they like it when you both work together.

They want to travel to new places with you. They definitely want to create something with you, maybe a business or smth?

They want to control you (in 18+ way) and take charge of you. They can be very dominating and you may like it very much.

If you haven't met this person yet, then they want to meet with you while traveling. Or if you're in a long distance relationship, they want to travel to you and just hug you when you both meet.

They want to take you on dates. They want to get vulnerable with you while having a drink or smth late at night. This person is very romantic and kind. They want to give you small but meaningful gifts that you'll want to cherish forever.

If you're an introvert or a socially awkward person, then they want to help you get out of your comfort zone and they'll help you approach new people and make new friendships.

Whenever this person is at a social gathering, they feel alone at times and they just think of you all the time. I'm also getting that they want you to notice them only, in the crowd when other people are around. They can get a lot possessive sometimes. I just heard "You're mine. Back off" lol. They're very cute and possessive.

Pile 02

5 cups, justice, the chariot, the tower, the hanged man, three of pentacles, queen of cups, knight of pentacles, 4 of wands

I sense a very mature kind of energy from this person. Either they are emotionally mature or they're just elder than you and have more experiences in things. This person would fight anyone who makes you sad. Like seriously, they're gonna fight and argure for you till the end. They don't like to see you sad basically.

They sometimes wish if they could just drag you out of the hell you've been living in for a while. But they can't do anything against life's circumstances. If you're stuck in life and don't know what to do, they would like to help you out very dearly.

If you do something mischievous then they're gonna act like your mom and scold you in a very cute snd funny way. 😂 They think you're childlike and innocent but your actions are very cute and devilish lol.

It's a secret but they like it when you take care of them very lovingly. They like it when you let them put their head in your lap for a while to let them rest. 🥺 They think you are a very delicate and soft hearted person who loves everything and everyone purely. They also like it if you're into things like tarot or occult. They like your mysterious nature and they find it very interesting.

They wanna marry you, straight up. They think you'd make such a good wife/husband. They love you and want to live a happily ever afterwards with you. They also want to have a family with you. Very warm and loving.

Pile 03

5 of swords, knight of swords, three of swords, king of swords, queen of wands, two of pentacles, 2 of cups

Lot's of air sign energy pile 3! What i sense is that they want to fight for Dominance in bed like very playful energy. They wanna jump in the bed with you and wrestle with you and tickle you.

They wanna win against you but when the see your sad and pouty face, they'll let you take the charges ;) I also feel as if they wanna sweep away all your sad experience and thoughts from your mind by being funny or cracking funny jokes.

And I get 18+ energy which I can't describe here so sorry for that.

I sense competitiveness from you guys lol like you both are ready to fight and challenge each other in a playful way. Very lively couple! You both like to go with the flow.

Deep down they know that you're their lifetime partner and they can't let you go because you are the best for them and they may not always express it but they surely love you and see you as their equal counterpart.

They wanna get vulnerable with you and tell you their deep down insecurities and they hope that you won't use it against them. They trust you with their feelings very much though they may not tell that directly to you.

[goldsbitch]

That one Christmas flight

summary: Y/N and Lando Norris are seated next to each other on a long flight. Innocent little Christmas tradition that Y/N does every year brings them just a little too close.

warnings: fluff, one-shot (whops a lie!), meet cute

Christmas. Y/N felt like an alien walking among people. It was impossible to avoid it. It was present in songs, in decoration, in fashion, online and on the news. Everywhere.

It's not like she was a grinch or anything. Nor was it because of some tragic incident causing trauma. Just pure fatigue from all the logistics and travel connected, which most kids of divorced parents faced every year.

Flying from Japan back to England, from her mother to her father, was a chore that seemed unavoidable. Her mother was kind enough to splurge on first class ticket for her, which her fancy Tokio job allowed. Ever since fours years ago, she continued a tradition that was introduced to her by a fellow Christmas traveller - the most stylish sassy French woman, who often spend the holidays on a plane. She would get herself and who ever was sitting next to her a glass of champagne and chat them up. Y/N has never laughed so much in her life like she did when she met this woman - so she took the tradition as her own.

Lando's plan wasn't to be on a flight from Japan to London on the 24th of December. He had so little time with his family and friends that this secret work trip to the Honda factory was really pushing him into staying with McLaren for the following years and not switching to a different team. This whole situation was like fuel for his current headache.

Y/N second guessed her tradition when a super gorgeous looking boy, who seemed to want anything but to be bothered, was sat next to her. She was used to having older people sitting next to her. Anyway, tradition is a tradition, so she eventually got up to order the classic. She nearly turned back at the thought that this guy was giving off some serious "I'm a dick" vibes, he had barely acknowledged her since she sat down. Luckily, she ignored this feeling.

When a glass of champagne appeared before Lando, he was sure it was a mistake.

"Well, to Christmas," his neighbor toasted. While he thought that she was a rather good looking girl, he was in no mood for a fangirl.

"I'm very sorry, um...I'll be happy to take a photo with you or something, but I am not in the best mood for a interaction with a fan."

She gave him a baffled look.

He continued. "Look, I'll be more than happy to sign anything. Or a photo, just as long you keep between un on which flight you saw me."

Y/N put her glass down, this was a first one.

"First of all, sorry for invading your private time. I have this stupid tradition of having a glass with whomever I'm destined to spend this Christmas flight. Guess I was mistaken. Second of all, I have no fucking idea who you are. So, calm down." She downed half of her glass. Of course this stupid year would include an asshole like this. Oh well.

Lando was confused for a moment and immediately after that he felt like an idiot.

"Apologies," he slowly replied, somewhat baffled. "I thought you were a fan and I'm just not in the mood for that." Y/N rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her champagne. "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Is that a stage name?"

"No, " he laghed. "I think it was a random decision of my mom."

"Interesting. Y/N," she introduced herself, without looking at him.

There was a weird tension in the air. Lando was determined to break it. Y/N was currently casually offended.

"Let me get you another one so that we can have a toast."

"Great, getting drunk is also an option. Hate flying sober," she joked.

Another glass was brought by a smiling flight attendant.

"So, how does this work?" Lando asked. Y/N was a person easily annoyed, however as quickly this came it also ended.

"Fine. There are rules, btw."

"Of course there are."

"Ehm, ehm, " she cleared her throat. "So, this tradition was started by Madame Tatanova and from now on, if you find yourself on a plane on 24th or 25th of December, you need to toast with your fellow neighbor passenger and answer the following: why and for how long-"

"I will have to write this down, I have a memory of a dead chicken."

"-I'm not finished! And then you follow up by your biggest regret and one thing nobody knows. The purpose of this is to gain or pass on wisdom and use the opportunity you'd normally miss by blasting up your headphones." She's done this for four times now, still the introduction was missing the "Madame Tatanova magic". Maybe one day.

"Ok..." Lando was not following yet, but he was keen on doing so. She raised her glasses, as did he.

"Cheers, to Christmas flights."

"Cheers, " he replied and they both sipped their champagne. "Wait, I have a question - what would you do if I did not speak English? Or if I was deaf?"

Lando was being his cheeky self and Y/N was not having it. She answered the question with a look.

"Got it! Anyway...what was the question?"

"Why."

"Why? Why is the sky dark or....?"

"Why are you on this plane."

"I'm trying to get to London from Tokio."

"I swear to god, I will ask to be seated somewhere else, Orlando."

"Lando, actually."

"If you say so..."

"Huuh, I'm going back from a work trip. And since you claim not to know me, I can probably tell you more than I should. Um, imagine I am in a band, right? I'm singing for a band and every few years they change their lead singer, one of the two actually, and I'm a the lead singer who might go to a different band now. But it's not clear yet and super secret actually. So, please keep it to yourself." Lando felt like someone who has just discovered speech and this was the first time he was using it. "Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Sort of I think. So you're cheating on your band?"

"Uhh, I'd say checking out options."

"Remind me never to date guys like you," she joked and immediately regretted that. Y/N was not good at flirting and did not want to appear creepy.

Lando passed on this comment, still not sure if he could trust this girl. "So, what about you? Why?"

"The curse of the divorced parents. One lives in London, the other one in Japan and I'm a package they pass each year," she said rather bitterly.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. I get to see mom twice a year and it's all always so planned and predictable. I would kill for spontaneity."

"Take me with you next time, I'm sure she'll be surprised." "Yes, she is a big fan of British guys, that's why she divorced one!"

"Great, happy to follow that route!"

Y/N started to relax a bit. This could be good, actually. "Ok, so now. For long are you staying in London, Lando?"

"Only few weeks. Then our music season starts. "

"Yeah, the one with all the singing, of course."

"Yeeah."

Y/N laughed a bit. He was suprisingly easy to talk to.

"So, how long?"

"A week. Then I'm off to Bologna."

"Uuuh, fancy that!"

"Yeah, I'm studying history there."

"Bologna is the one with the old university?" he asked, pretending he has never heard of that.

"No, not really, they just opened. Last year we did not have chairs, because the shipment got delayed," she replied with a dry tone.

"One does always study better while standing. I believe it was Socrates, who said it."

"Oh, yes. They teach you this at the singing music school?"

"Exactly. We were never allowed to sit."

They continued to chat all the way through the airplane dinner, getting few more glasses of champagne during that. Their laughter was interrupted by a flight attendant, who acted on a complaint from a fellow passenger. They both fell asleep watching a movie. Y/N woke up few times in the night and observed the boy next to her. Knowing this was the best Christmas plane encounter she ever had. Lando woke up as well, feeling strangely happy about the fact she was resting her head on his shoulder.

//

"Wait." Lando stopped her at the entrance to customs hall and pulled them both behind a column, so that they could not be seem by bystanders.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"This might be weird, but can I kiss you?" Y/N looked at the boy in a hoodie standing in front of her, cheeky guy suddenly appearing nervous. He was absolutely gorgeous. She hated the fact he was random guy on a plane to London and not to Bologna.

"Yes. Must be midnight somewhere. So it could be like a New Years thing."

"Yeah. Just an airport thing." With that he kissed her. Just two young people having a little moment of silence. His kiss was a light slow brush on the lips. He cupped her cheek and her hand brushed through his curly hair. First kiss usually does not take long. For a person passing by, this would appear like kiss these two shared a thousand times before.

When they eventually parted, it all seemed a bit surreal.

"We never got to the second part of your Christmas interview," Lando commented.

"Well. Let's say that the one thing nobody knows is that I just kissed a random guy from the plane. And that my biggest regret is that we will never see each other again." For the first time, she was this bluntly honest with somebody who had just kissed her for the first time. It felt intoxicating.

Lando smiled. "See, I knew we had something in common."

Lando was usually not so open with his crushes, if he could even put her in that category.

"Don't worry. I won't search for you online or anything. I want to keep the mystery of Lando alive."

He kissed her once more, before they parted.

//

Their hearts felt a little more heavier than usual on midnight that New Years Eve. Both standing surrounded by their favorite people, yet with the one they would wish to kiss being impossibly far away.

part 2

_________________________

@superlegend216

[slut4thebroken]

Daddy’s Little Girl

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepdad!Raymond Leon x reader

Summary | Your stepdad catches you doing something you shouldn’t be.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, very large age gap, technically incest, innocence kink, protective (controlling) Ray, grinding, pillow humping hehe, praise, degradation, spanking, punishment?, humiliation, virginity checks, daddy but not the kink?, he kind of hates everyone except you tbh.

Words | 3.7 k

Notes | Idk I feel like the end maybe got a lil ooc but I feel like it’s not enough to be out of place in the fic.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Tonight was movie night, your favorite night of the week. For the longest time, your step dad refused to do this. You’d beg and beg, and he’d stare at you with that hard, unrelenting gaze until you gave up. That was while you still called him Mr. Leon. That was before your mom skipped town, leaving you with him. You were 16 when that happened and Raymond seriously considered sending you off to some orphanage. It was only two more years anyway. 

But over time, the idea started to make his stomach churn and his jaw clench in anger. That was when he started treating you like his stepdaughter, rather than some child he was stuck with. That was when you started calling him daddy. 

The first time, it surprised him. Girls your age have long since grown out of calling their fathers ‘daddy’ and started calling their boyfriends that instead. But he could tell you were being genuine and not just making a move on him or trying to rile him up. It took a while, but eventually he got used to it. He even started calling you a few pet names as well. That was the first sign that he’d gone completely soft toward you. 

The second was when he actually agreed to have a movie night with you… As soon as he reluctantly said yes, you practically squealed as you ran to the couch, telling him to make popcorn while you got everything ready. 

You didn’t try to get closer to him that time. But the next time, you sat in the middle of the couch rather than on the side, still not touching him yet. The third time was when you tried to lean your head on his shoulder. He jerked away from you, mostly out of pure instinct, but when he saw your pouting face, he sighed heavily and let you do it anyway as he sat there, his body completely stiff. 

It only progressed from there, until he finally started getting used to holding you while you snuggled into his chest. He almost… liked doing it— not that he would ever admit that though. When you were in his arms, he felt like he was protecting you, keeping you safe. From what? He didn’t know. Maybe it was just paternal instinct. 

As you got older though, he got more protective. He started setting rules, most of which you were fine with. It was the little ones like bedtime by eleven on school nights or homework before fun that you didn’t like. But you followed them anyway. 

The first time you brought a boy home… he almost committed a felony, to put it simply. He never came back though— thankfully— but you yelled at him for scaring him away when you were just trying to work on an assignment together. That eased his nerves, but he still didn’t regret what he did. However, that prompted him to have a talk with you. Not the talk, you weren’t ready for that yet, he decided. 

He sat you down and told you about boys your age and their intentions and what they’d do to you if given the chance. He was trying to scare you, and it worked. He slept easy knowing that your nights were spent watching movies with him, rather than partying or having sex. 

You put on pajamas and fuzzy socks and he wore sweatpants and a shirt. While you settled on the couch and browsed for a movie, he was busy making some popcorn for you both. 

“What about this one?” You asked as he walked in and sat down next to you. 

“What’s it rated?” He seemed wary. 

“R… But I’ve seen R rated movies before!” He glanced at the screen, then turned back to you with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just this once, you know I don’t like you watching really graphic content.” You bit back a grin and pressed play. He held the popcorn in his lap and you rested your head on his shoulder, both of your lower halves covered by the blanket. 

It started out fine. There was a lot of cursing and some violence, but it wasn’t too bad. What was bad was the super graphic and super long sex scene. You shifted awkwardly and looked at your lap. Should you just watch and pretend like this isn’t weird? That’s what he’s doing…

When you folded your legs up and rested them on his thigh, he placed a warm hand just above your knee. You cleared your throat and buried your face in his chest a little. 

“It’s just a sex scene.” He chuckled quietly. 

“I- I know… I’m just not used to watching it s’all.” He hummed in response and started brushing his thumb back and forth on your thigh, making your shiver. 

“We can watch something else.”

“No! I- I’m not a child. I can watch a… a— sex scene.” You said the last two words quietly and your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

“I know you can, princess. I’m saying you don’t have to.” You could tell he was amused, but you were getting more and more flustered. 

“Well, I- I want to.” You decided. He was fine with that. Even though he didn’t really want you watching this kind of stuff, he liked watching you blush and squirm. 

The sex scene was over and you relaxed into him, focusing on the movie again. The rest of it was more violence and cursing, then it was over. When you yawned and snuggled into his chest, he brought an awkward hand up to your shoulder, trying to pull you away. 

“Bed time.” You let out a low whine, but stood up anyway. “Go get ready for bed.” 

“Mhm.” You mumbled sleepily. You brushed your teeth and finished your nightly routine, but as soon as you laid down, you noticed the warm feeling in your belly and the ache between your legs. You’ve felt this once or twice, but you’ve never acted on it before. You laid there, desperately trying to ignore it and just fall asleep, but it wouldn’t go away and you kept thinking about his hand on your thigh and the way he smells and how safe you feel in his arms. Letting out a quiet whine, you pressed your thighs together and squirmed a bit, trying to ease the ache. It only got worse though. 

You turned on your side and squeezed your thighs together harder as your hips started moving back and forth, chasing pleasure that wasn’t there. You heard running water as he washed the dishes, so with the knowledge that he was too busy to catch you doing something inappropriate, you got up on your knees and placed a pillow between your legs. 

The movement of your hips was awkward at first, but you quickly picked up a comfortable pace and continued that for a while. You felt so dirty and perverted doing this, but you couldn’t stop. Especially not when you imagined doing this on his thigh instead. Would he grab your hips to help you? Or maybe he’d lay back and watch you hump his leg like a dog. 

You whimpered and closed your eyes as your head fell forward. Maybe he’d let you grind on something else… something much more R rated. The thought had you moaning quietly before you could stop yourself so you bit your lip to keep any more sounds in. You’ve only started having these thoughts about him recently and they confused you, but made you feel good, so you didn’t try to shut them down. 

Your belly felt like it was tightening and filling with heat, and you started panting as you bucked your hips faster. You weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling. All you knew was that the thought of stopping made you want to cry in desperation. 

“Are you all ready—” The door suddenly opened and you practically jumped away from the pillow as you stared at him with wide eyes. The feeling in your tummy was slowly leaving and you tried not to whine out loud because of it. “What were you doing?” He asked, tone a complete 180 from only a few seconds ago. 

“N-nothing, I was… I was getting ready for bed.” He slowly shut the door and you swallowed audibly as you waited for what was next. 

“You were getting ready for bed with your pillow down there?” He asked, obviously not believing you. You bit your lip as you nodded, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he stalked closer. You held your breath as he neared the bed, but when he reached for the pillow, you were too slow to try and grab it first. He held it up to his face and inhaled deeply, making your cheeks heat up as you squirmed uncomfortably. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to watch that movie. You get these ideas in your head and soon enough your whoring yourself around for every guy in this fucking city.” 

“No! No, I- I wouldn’t…” You didn’t want to whine, but his words were embarrassing you. He set the pillow down then sat next to it with a heavy sigh. You watched him pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes. 

“I guess this is my fault… I should’ve talked with you a long time ago, I was just scared.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you schooched closer to him. 

“Scared?”

“Of losing my little girl. But clearly I need to accept the fact that you’re a young woman now. You can’t be my little girl forever.” You’ve never heard him sound so sad. 

“Yes I can.” You frowned. 

“Princess… You’re already 18. I don’t think that’s possible.” He chuckled dryly. 

“But… I- I want to be your little girl.” Your frown deepened and your eyes started to burn with tears. “Forever, daddy.” You whined. 

“I know, baby. But that’s what happens, you have to grow up, no matter how much you don’t want to.” You were getting even more confused and upset. What does this mean? Will there not be anymore movie nights? Will he not make you hot chocolate or read to you or tuck you in before bed? “And now’s the time. You’re already getting curious about big girl things.” 

“No! I- I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, daddy— I promise. I’ll do anything, just— please…” You cried, giving him puppy dog eyes as your bottom lip wobbled. 

“You want to stay my little girl?” He asked quietly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair out of your face. 

“Please.” You whined and he nodded. 

“You have two choices; you can be a big girl and I’ll teach you whatever you need to know to be safe, or… you can be my little girl, but you’ll need to be punished for your behavior.” 

“The second.” You didn’t even hesitate. 

“Okay, baby. Over my lap.” When you started moving to lay on his lap, he stopped you. “Other way.” You obeyed and laid across his thighs, pushing the pillow away so you could be comfortable. 

“No no no, princess.” He chuckled quietly. “That’s part of the punishment. You’re going to keep your face in your mess as a constant reminder of why you’re being punished right now.” With a low whine, you pulled the pillow back toward you, but kept your head above it. You could see now that there was a tiny damp spot on the fabric, only furthering your embarrassment. 

“Mmph!” Was the only noise you could get out when he placed a firm hand on the back of your head and shoved you down. You jumped when you felt his warm hand on the back of your thigh, slowly moving up. He teased the bottom of your sleep shorts before going back down on the other leg. “This is what you want? To be daddy’s little girl?” 

“Yes!” You cried, but it was muffled because of him still holding you down. 

“Fine.” He roughly pulled your shorts down to your thighs, making you whine and squirm in this hold. “At least you’re not completely gone yet…” He murmured, running a hand over your plain cotton panties. “Ready?” He didn’t let your reply before landing a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out. He did the same to the other cheek, then grabbed your underwear and pulled them up to expose more skin. 

You moaned quietly when he rubbed a soothing hand over your already sore ass. It felt huge. Sure you’ve noticed his hands once or twice, but it felt like he could grab your entire ass cheek and more with just one hand. 

He hit you again, but this time he didn’t stop until you were crying and reaching back to push him away. He released your head and twisted your arms behind your back painfully, keeping you still. With your head now free, you tried protesting verbally. 

“It hurts, daddy.” You whined. 

“Yeah? Keep your face in that pillow or I’ll use my belt and it’ll hurt a whole lot more.” He warned, making your breath catch in your throat. You didn’t want to find out if he was bluffing or not, so you lowered your head back down, trying not to get too embarrassed by the smell of your own arousal. 

He started spanking you again, lighter this time, but after doing it over and over, the light smacks started to hurt. You cried and squirmed and kicked your feet, trying to get a break. 

“I know…” He cooed, finally stopping to roughly rub and grope your ass, making you wince. “You can take it though.” You shook your head as a quiet sob left you. Your tears haven’t fallen yet, but you knew they were about to. 

“Please— Please… I'm sorry for being bad, daddy.” You whimpered, turning your head to try and see him. He just shushed you and continued playing with your ass for a while. When he got bored of that, he was spanking you again. He only did a few this time, but he hit you so hard… you could barely take it. You were crying now and your struggling picked up until one of your legs slid off his thigh. You held it up by your foot on the ground, but when you tried to raise it again, he placed a firm hand on that thigh to keep it in place. So you relaxed into the new position as he snaked his hand up. 

He cursed under his breath, then moved his hand to pull your panties up even further, making the outline of your cunt more pronounced. His thumb brushed over your slit, but it didn’t go anywhere near where it actually ached. 

“Now, why would my little girl be so wet during a punishment?” He asked innocently, as if his words had a less crude meaning. 

“I- I’m sorry, daddy… Can’t help it.” You whined, squirming again to try and get some kind of pressure on your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped when he pulled your panties to the side, then ran a finger through your slit. 

“Clearly you’re growing up just a little bit, but I think we can come to a fair compromise.” You waited anxiously for his proposal. “You can still be my little girl, but we’ll have some adult playtime too.” You were nodding before he even finished. “That means you can only be with daddy. Only big girls do that kind of stuff with other boys.” 

“Only you.” You promised. 

“Since I know how insatiable you're getting though, I’ll have to do checks every week, maybe more, to make sure you’re still my little girl.” 

“Checks?” You asked quietly, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Would you like me to do one now to show you?” You agreed hesitantly and he raised his leg that was under your hips to arch your back a little. When he released your arms, you immediately brought them back up to a more comfortable position. 

He placed both hands on your thighs, just below your ass, and used his thumbs to pull you open even more, exposing you. You tried not to get embarrassed or nervous, but no one’s ever seen down there before. What if he thinks it’s ugly? What if it has a weird smell? Your thoughts were interrupted by him circling your hole with one finger. 

“Ready?” He asked, but barely dipping the tip in your entrance to tease you. 

“Y-yes.” You said through a breath. He slowly pushed his finger in and you fisted the sheets as your head dropped down— you didn’t even care about your scent on the pillow anymore. His finger was so thick and long, and you mewled quietly at the feeling. He curled it against your walls and you let out a choked moan at the new feeling. “What… What are you checking for?” You whispered, unable to speak any louder. 

“Your hymen. That’s something only little girls have. Once it’s gone, that makes you a big girl.” He explained, continuing to move his finger inside you at a torturously slow pace. 

“Daddy…” You whined breathily. The only response you got was a quiet hum, telling you to finish what you were wanting to say. “Feels good..” He suddenly pulled his finger out, forcing a strangled sob out of you. “No— please! Please keep going.” You cried as he wiped his finger on your ass to clean it off. 

“Shh. While I’m here, I might as well do a full check. Lay down.” He pulled your shorts all the way off, then you moved to the center of the bed and laid down on your back as he settled between your legs. His thumbs were pulling you apart again, but this time his finger went above your hole. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as your hips rocked, trying to get more friction. When he brushed a finger over your clit, you jolted and released a loud moan. 

“This is only for daddy to touch, do you understand? No boys, no hands, no pillows.” You nodded as you panted and bucked your hips again. 

“Only for daddy.” You mumbled almost incoherently. He continued brushing over your clit with feather light touches, but the feeling in your belly was getting more and more intense. “Please…” You whined, squirming even more. 

“Do you even know what you’re begging for, little girl?” You shook your head as your hips started moving more frantically now, like how they were when you were on the pillow. 

“Please, daddy.” You moaned, the feeling in your tummy growing tighter. He suddenly removed his finger again and you cried out loudly, all but throwing a tantrum in response. “Please! Please don’t stop..” You sobbed. “It hurts, daddy… please make it go away.” Your voice was a pathetic whimper, but you ignored the embarrassment, focusing on giving him puppy dog eyes and a pout instead. 

“No.” You let out a long bratty whine, making him bring his hand down on your clit with a loud smack. He didn’t hit too hard, but it was hard enough to make you choke on a gasp, and then silence you. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the ground, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Finish what you started.” 

“But,” He raised his brows, warning you to stop disobeying him and just do it. So with a pout, you moved to the floor and straddled the pillow. 

“Atta girl. Do it just like how you were when I walked in.” You blushed at the reminder, but slowly lowered yourself onto it and started moving your hips. It didn’t take long for you to get desperate enough to show your enthusiasm without shame. But you were also getting impossibly more desperate for him. 

“Daddy… please.” You whined. “Wanna touch you.” The way you whimpered and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes made him fold almost instantly. 

“Where?” 

“Wanna do this, but… on your thigh.” He sighed, but patted his leg and you scrambled up to straddle it as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Better?” You bit back a grin as you nodded. He suddenly grabbed your hips and started moving you against his thigh, but you quickly picked back up and started rutting against him desperately. Now that you could smell him and feel his warmth, and his strong hands holding your hips, your tummy was getting impossibly tighter with arousal. All of the friction on your clit was starting to hurt a little, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. 

“Such a good girl…” He cooed, making you whine and ride his leg faster. “I’m gonna teach you all the ways little girls can please their daddies. Do you want that, baby?”

“Mhm.” You were too spaced out to respond properly. “Daddy, it— I…” You choked out, not even knowing what it was that you were actually feeling. 

“It’s okay. Keep going.” You whined at his encouragement but obeyed eagerly, wanting to feel this pleasure longer. Your sounds got louder and your hips moved even faster until you mewled quietly as your body convulsed. You were shaking and writhing from the intense pleasure and his hands started pulling your hips when you weren’t able to focus on moving them anymore. “Good girl… Ride it out.” He said quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He kept grinding your hips down on his thigh and you were sobbing out moans until it finally subsided and the achy feeling was gone. 

“How was that?” He asked, loosening his grip to an intensity that wouldn’t leave bruises. 

“What… what was…” You were panting heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down. 

“It’s called an orgasm. Only I can give them to you, do you understand?” His voice was soft but still stern. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, now so much more tired than you were a few seconds ago. He pulled the covers back, then picked you up by your hips and placed you on the bed. You laid down, then he brought the covers up and handed you your stuffed animal before tucking you in. “My little girl.” He whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You blushed and smiled sleepily. “Only mine.” 

“Only yours..” You mumbled incoherently and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, filling your stomach with butterflies. 

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[janicekao]

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.