#touch table screen

[eisinfratech]

#touch screen tv for teaching #touch table screen #Lcd flat panel #eis digital login #dyson air purifier india #eis technologies #profound infra #interactive displays #celling #test online microphone #document cameras #table with touch screen #testing microphone online

[xluxsolarisx]

brings you to the lavender farm¹ that the bear² is from and takes you through the fields looking at all the different types of lavender before having some lunch at the farm cafe and getting you some lavender ice cream to try out (i'm sure you're interested by the sound of it and yes it is pretty good^^) and then takes you to the gift shop for you to look through at anything else you might like so i can get it for you:> and just has a lovely day together:3

1. https://lyndochlavenderfarm.com.au/

2. https://lyndochlavenderfarm.com.au/products/lavender-bear?_pos=1&_sid=90127ddf4&_ss=r

uhm, yeah <3

:O a fun outing!!!!! there are so many cool different types of lavender i never knew... and not all of them are purple! i only thought lavender came in. well. lavender so seeing different colors is really cool...i especially like the hidcote pink and munstead, very pretty! i am running through the fields and picking flowers if they would let me pick flowers if they don't i am admiring their beauty without taking anything ^^ you're right actually i would love to try lavender ice cream! and i also wanna try lavender honey and lavender jam, they sound very floral and sweet, very nice c: i should find some for myself soon in like a farmers market or something i wanna try it irl... hmmm....from the gift shop i would like the lavender body mists, incense, lip balm, & bath salts. ok maybe not the bath salts actually ^^' i don't trust myself not to eat them. vietnam flashbacks. and also the lavender sleep pillow for the same reason i'd like the plushie (seems cuddly and would help me sleep) and finally maybe some lavender seeds so i could grow my own lavender! thank you for taking me this day was so fun, at the end of the day i reveal i have taken some lavender flowers and weaved them into a flower crown for you and i put it on your head. i love you. i also took the plushie and she had so much fun, here are two pictures i drew of her enjoying the day out ^^

she is laying in the grass and also sitting next to lavender flowers because i couldn't decide which drawing i liked better. ignore the way her palms are open magnanimously like jesus christ or jerry seinfeld i wanted to show her beans. also ignore the way her nose is white in the grass drawing i forgot to color it in. just imagine she ate a powdered donut filled with lavender jelly, okay? thank you again, this was really fun! bye bye 💖💖💖

#the thought of this made me very happy ^^ what if life could be dream... #only thing is i can't actually get the bear plushie because they don't ship to the us. hell world. #anyway i have been trying to learn how to draw lately! #it's slow going because between family and friends and college and other hobbies (like chess and baking and gardening) and The Horrors #i don't have a lot of time to practice #so i'm not very good yet but that's okay because i'm having fun and i'm allowed to be bad at things #so far i can draw. #BUNNY! KITTY! SHEEPY! #THE FACE (AND NOTHING ELSE! JUST THE FACE!) OF A MELANCHOLY WOMAN WITH HEAVILY LIDDED EYES #AND WINGED EYELINER AND LIPSTICK AND BRAIDS! #TEDDY BEAR! CREEPY SMILE! BREASTS! and that's it ^^ #i want to try my hand at fanart someday maybe... #for now i've set a goal that i need to get better at drawing bodies and hands and generally conveying motion. #like looking to the side and different poses. and HAND POSES ugh i'm so bad at hand poses. #i do most of my work on pencil and paper but i should get some kinda drawing app soon... #only thing is i don't have a tablet and i know in my heart i cannot draw with a mouse on a computer. i just Can't. #i mean i guess i DO have a laptop but it doesn't have a touch screen... #so digital is kinda off the table for now unless i'm drawing with my phone (like the teddy bear drawing) #i'm rambling. ok so thank you!! the mental image of this was very pleasing to me. #you're very nice. have a nice day!!! you deserve it. bye bye <3 #fortunes told (asks)

[caramelcuppaccino]

these 8 stickers keep me going if i’m being honest 😔😔✌🏼

#touching mang when i feel like i want to punch the screen but then feeling suddenly sad because they took my hobibi 😭😭😭 #coping? i don’t know her #i’ll mourn for my hobibi until the day he’s back if i have to *slams table* #and the fact that joon might be the next one… #WHAT WILL I DO *screams* WHAT WILL I DO WITHOUT MY NYAMU #lunlunreplies

[ssidisplays]

Innovative Touch Screen Tables & Smart Displays for Your Business | ssidisplays

Are you looking to take your business to new heights and captivate your customers? Look no further than the cutting-edge touch screen tables and smart displays from ssidisplays. These innovative solutions are designed to revolutionize the way you interact with your audience, driving engagement and leaving a lasting impression.

#display table #display tables #touch screen table #smart tables #touchscreen table

[albertharveys-blog]

#interactive table #touch screen

[iplantables]

Revolutionizing Workstations: Unleashing the Potential of Multi-Touch Screen Tables by iPlanTables

Discover the future of work with iPlanTables V-Series, where innovation meets functionality. Explore the power and versatility of multi-touch screen tables designed to elevate your productivity and redefine your workspace. Dive into the key features of the iPlanTables V-Series and unlock a world of seamless interaction, enhanced productivity, and comprehensive workstation solutions. Join us as we explore the transformative capabilities of Multi-Touch Screen Tables and revolutionize the way you work.

#Multi-Touch Screen Tables #touch tables

[oncewild]

unfortunately I have become a person who is deeply thrilled by the new capabilities I discover in word

#today's was hoew to cross-reference tables in document #yesterday it was creating pivot tables in excel #oh to have a job where i went outside and touched native grasses #alas screens it is

[nanaslutt]

male squirting.... Satoru being overstimulated to the brink of tears ? 😵‍💫♡

contains: fem reader, kiinnndaaaa sub gojo :3, whiny gojo, hand jobs, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, praise, so much dirty talk, dacraphillia, lots of talk of cum

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You were scrolling through Twitter and came across a video of a man tied to a chair, naked. A pair of hands that were neatly manicured was jerking him off rapidly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his cock. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen on twitter before, but twenty seconds later you would see something new. The woman was jerking him after his orgasm, the man whining and crying, his body trying to jerk away from her touch as he was pushed into overstimulation.

He started pleading with her to slow down, saying something felt weird, and that's when it happened, he squirted. It looked so intense, his body trembling and hunching over as he screamed through another forced orgasm. You squeezed your thighs together feeling yourself grow aroused between your legs, a vivid image popping into your head of trying this with Satoru. You replayed the video over a couple times, pretending the faceless pale man in the chair was your boyfriend, even though they shared no resemblance to one another.

You were sure Satoru would be up to trying something like this, the two of you had a very adventurous sex life and were always sharing new ideas with the other on fun things you could do in the bedroom, and this looked very fun. You quickly copied the link and switched to messages, sending it to your boyfriend who was currently at work. You hoped he wouldn't see your message until he had a break, but you had sent him worse things during worse moments, so it would be fine.

Moments after you had sent the video to Satoru, your phone lit up with his name big and bold on the screen, vibrating in your hand. "Satoru? Why are you calling me at work?" You asked, pressing your phone to your ear. "Tell me you want to do that to me, thats why you sent me that right?" He asked rushed, excitement laced in his tone. From the backround noise from Gojo's end of the call of birds chirping and leaves rusting through the trees with no voices besides his to be heard, you guessed he was supervising sparing and had stepped away.

"I dont think I need to ask if you want to try it then~" You laughed into the receiver. Gojo was currently leaning his head back against a building of Jujutsu high, his eyes scrunched shut as he imagined your hands on him, overstimulating him like the woman had done in the video. "Are you kidding? I'm all over that~" He cracked his eyes open, a smile gracing his features. "My pretty girlfriend making me squirt? didn't even know that was possible, I've been missing out." He sighed.

"Wanna give it a go tonight then? Wouldn't want you to miss out any longer." You said teasingly, biting your lip as you pressed your thighs together once more. "Why wait that long? I get off in an hour, I'll see you and your pretty hands then~" Gojo said singsong like into the phone. The two of you said your goodbyes before you ended the call, your fingers taking you back to the video so you could watch it over and over again, picking up some techniques the woman used that you could use on Satoru."

--

"She used a lot of lube so.. this is gonna get messy." You said, popping open the lid to the lube bottle you kept on your side table. Gojo was laid down on the bed, a towel under his ass as you sat on his thighs, one hand stroking his cute leaking cock, while your other squeezed the plastic bottle, watching the slippery substance drip down onto his cock in thick strands.

Gojo hissed when the cold lubricant came into contact with his dick, keeping his eyes on your slender hands wrapping around him. "If you make me squirt it's gonna get a hell of a lot messier too~" Gojo chimed in, biting his lip when you used one of your hands to wrap around his tip, rolling it around in circular motions in your palm, the other slowly jerking the rest of his massive length. "You will," you assured him, your eyes sliding up to make contact with his.

"Gotta say the safeword If it gets too much, kay Toru?" You asked, making sure he acknowledged your words before things got too intense. "Yeah yeah, F-fuuuck, I won't though~ I can take it." He said confidently, flashing you a cocky smile as you slowly and steadily jerked him off.

"Fuck.." Gojo murmured under his breath, his eyes dropping as he watched you work slowly on his dick, the copious amount of lube you used creating a loud and vulgar slick noise every time your hands moved on him. "It's so wet," Gojo groaned. You could feel his thighs flexing under your ass as he started getting into it. "Yeah? Does it feel good?" You asked, picking up the speed of both your hands a bit. "Yeah.. fuck- feels like I'm inside you." Gojo groaned, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up as he watched you jerk him off, both of your hands now screwing down the length of his cock together, making sure to squeeze at the tip.

"I feel this wet?" You almost laughed, taking note of how the lube coated his balls and was steadily dripping down the insides of his thighs. "You're wetter." He smirked back, his smile quickly fading when you paused one of your hands, opting to rub right under the head of his cock while the other kept jerking him off. You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes were rolling back in his head. "Feel good right here, Toru?" You asked, pressing your thumb into his frenulum with more force, a shaky whimper leaving his lips.

"So fucking good," Satoru praised, pulling his hip between his teeth. You slid the pad of your thumb from his frenulum to the slit on his tip in a smooth rhythm, up and down, up and down, making Satoru groan through clenched teeth. "Oh fuck- keep fucking doing that- sh-it." Gojo was humping his hips into your fist, chasing the stimulation, making your body bounce slightly on top of his thighs. "Satoru quit moving, let me do all the work." You spoke softly, giving his shaft harsh strokes that made him whine.

"Okay- okay, baby- just please don't stop, please." He replied with an aroused smile plastered on his face. You giggled at his desperation, continuing your ministrations on his cock so he didn't grow any needier. "I won't Toru, I got you~" you assured. His head flopped back onto the pillows with a groan when you started stroking him with both hands once again, rotating your hands up and down the length of his cock, making the coil in his tummy rapidly tighten itself up.

"Fuck- fuck me baby fuck-" Satoru whined through his teeth, the words strung together as he tipped his head down, nodding as you jerked his cock quick and rough, making his body wiggle around on the sheets. "You like that? Like when I jerk you off like this?" You cooed, biting your lip as you darted your eyes back and forth between his flushed cock and his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.

Your words went straight to his cock, if you weren't gripping him so hard you might've been able to feel how hard he twitched in your hands. "God I fucking love it, baby, makin' me feel so g-good." Gojo groaned through his teeth. He really wanted to keep watching you but he physically could not keep his head up anymore. He let his head fall back into the pillows once more, screwing his eyes shut as he let you work him up to his high. "Shit.. I feel it coming pretty girl.." Your boyfriend let you know, his breathing picking up when he felt his balls start to tighten, the warmth in his belly growing warmer and warmer, all telltale signs of his orgasm approaching.

"You got this baby, gonna fuck you through it and you're gonna take what I give you like a good boy, isn't that right?" You spoke sweetly, a teasing tilt to your voice as you hyped him up. He nodded his head against the pillows, keeping his eyes shut, face still screwed in pleasure, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to brace himself for what was to come. "Gonna take it, 'm your good boy, baby~" Satoru responded, trying to smile through his arousal.

You felt his warm cock pulse strongly against your fingers at the same time his breathing stilled, right before the first rope of his cum shot out of his dick and splattered onto his abdomen. Gojo groaned loudly through his teeth, his body jerking inwards at every wave of his orgasm. "Yeah~ Good boy, just like that, keep cumming for me Toru~" You praised, jerking your hands rapidly over his dick, coating your fingers and his cock in his cum, mixing with the lube already smothered on his cock.

"Shit- s-shit- nnghhh-" Gojo groaned through his orgasm, his hips jerking up into your hand as he came. You continued to stroke him through the aftershocks of his high, which was bearable for the first four seconds before he started fighting the pleasure you were giving him. Whines and gasps were being pulled from his lips when you didn't slow down your hands on his cock, keeping up the mean rough pace on his length, simultaneously twisting your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead.

His hips jerked back, into the sheets as he tried to excape your ruthless hands, his chin shot down to his chest as he watched you sit on top of him, lip pulled between your teeth as you tried to work him through his overstimulation. "Ffffffuck!" He finally vocalized, his entire body thrashing and twitching agaisnt the sheets, knees trying to curl upwards, thighs pressing together, anything to excape the overbearing pleasure that wouldn't stop coming.

"You're doing so good baby, so good, don't fight it." You talked him through it, trying to get his overwhelmed brain to slow down. "Oh-ohmygod it's too much-" He cried, his hands heaving the pillows he was gripping next to his head and slapping down on your thighs, digging his nails into the skin there. You swear you saw tears forming in his eyes before he screwed them shut once more, his jaw falling slack as he turned his head back and forth against the pillows, he looked so hot like this.

"You wanna squirt don't you baby? I thought you could take it, must not want it that bad." You teased, trying a different method to instill the confidence in him that he needed in this moment to get through this. "N-no I want it- wanna- wanna squirt-" He whined, his breathing starting to even out, his overstimulation must be fizzling out. "That's right, that's my good boy Toru." You smirked proudly down at him, finally noticing your own arousal that was throbbing between your legs.

"Goddd~ l-love when you call me that~" He giggled, his eyes cracking open as he tilted his head to the side so he could see you, keeping his head pressed into the pillows. You giggled before rubbing your thumb against his frenulum again. His breath hitched, his nails digging into your thigh right before cum shot out of his cock again, weaker this time. The ropes of his seed barely made it to his abdomen, most of it coating your fingers and easing the slide over his cock, making it impossibly more slippery.

"You really like it right here, huh?" You asked, continuing to massage the spot in little circles as you worked his seed out of his shaft. Gojo's body jerked forward, his legs shaking with the intensity of his second orgasm so soon after the first. He stayed silent, his mouth agape as he let you work him through his high. He came down with a gasp, greedily swallowing air into his lungs, panting when he was once again granted the short intermission before his cock was assaulted with your hands overstimulating him.

This time, you did see the tears fall down his cheeks when you didn't stop. The squelches emitting from his cock were sooo loud, so lewd, you guaranteed if you pulled your panties down right now, they would be flooded. The lube and cum created such a mess on your fingers as you rapidly stroked over him, your hand looking like a blur from how fast your pace was. One of Gojo's hands gripped your wrist harshly, almost stopping the movements completely. Good thing you had another hand, you used it to rotate over his tip, slightly punishing him for trying to stop you.

"Baby s-stop- stop I c-cant I c-cant do it-" Gojo cried, fat tears falling over his flushed cheeks, wetting the hair on the side of his face. He didn't say the safeword, but he sounded so desperate so you slowed your hand ever so slightly before you spoke, "This is gonna be the one Toru, just one more and you're gonna squirt for me, promise." You encouraged, nodding at him when he cracked his lids open, teary eyes locking onto yours. "Ohhhhmygod I don't know If- Ugh-" He tried protesting, raking his nails into your thighs.

"You can do it, you're so close baby, so close, it's gonna feel so fucking good." His hand had loosened his grip on your wrist, his head weakly nodding at your words. "I- I think I'm gonna cum already-" His words cut off with a whine, his chest heaving as he took sharp breaths into his lungs, high-pitched wines spilling from his lips as he felt his third orgasm come on. This time it felt a little different, it felt deeper, stronger, he couldn't really explain it, all he could do was take the painful pleasure, letting your hands milk him dry as his tired body tried its best to relax against the sheets.

The towel under his ass was already soaked with cum and lube, and you figured it was about to get a whole lot wetter, you weren't sure why you bothered putting a towel down in the first place.

Gojo started leaking under your thumb, a substance thinner than his cum spurting out of his cock in little amounts. "Baby- baby fuck- It- I cant- I cant-" He wined, losing his composure when he felt it creep over him. This new sensation was taking over his whole body, everything from the tips of his toes to his ears felt flushed, he felt like he was suffocating with how hard it was to take a good breath into his lungs, the feeling making him hyperventilate.

"You can, I got you, baby, I'm right here, let it out, squirt for me Toru~" You encouraged, jerking him off with more vigor, continuing to rub your thumb over his frenulum and flushed tip, steadily leaking the liquid. His thighs rapidly clenched under yours, his chin dropping to his chest to watch his dick, his intense eyes waiting to see something miraculous happen right when his orgasm hit. And fuck did something happen.

A clear liquid sprayed out of his cock, the stream coming out stuttered as you jerked him through it, moaning with him. "Oh my god you're doing it baby, good fucking job, fucking give it to me Toru~" You groaned, slamming your hands down on the length of his cock, fucking his orgasm out of him. He was being so loud, you were lucky your neighbors lived a good distance away, or they might call the cops because it seriously sounded like someone was being tortured, and in a way, he was.

His body shook and trembled, even after you slowed your hands on him. Tears streamed down his bright red face as his eyes fought to stay forward in their sockets, his hands weakly twitching against your thighs, nails digging into the skin. You leaned forward, wiping your hands off on the bed sheets before you took his teary face in your hands, pressing kisses to his open mouth, sweaty forehead, blushed nose, anywhere your lips could touch.

"Good boy Toru, good fucking boy." You giggled, wiping his tear-soaked hair away from his face as his glossy eyes made eye contact with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist. "How did that feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?" You giggled. His body twitched under you, your boyfriend's chest still heaving up and down rapidly. "Better, I love you, l-love you." He stuttered, closing his eyes as you pressed kisses to his tearstain cheeks and eyelids.

"C-couldn't have done that without you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing your weight onto him, his sticky cock sticking to your clothes in the process, but you would worry about that later, Satoru needed your utmost attention to calm down right now. "I love you too, my amazing boy~" You praised, letting him pull you tighter, your head digging into his neck as you pressed little kisses into the skin there.

#jjk smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru smut #jujutsu satoru #gojo satoru fic #satorugojo #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n

[moon7jay]

Carnal (p.sh)

Warnings : stepcest, dubcon, sunghoon is a pervert, sex tape, cum eating, just filth tbh, porn without plot

a/n: Im functioning on 2 hours of sleep so it's not proofread,there might be some errors,pls ignore them. reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡

"fuck, just like that " sunghoon groaned, squeezing himself from above his boxers, his red rimmed eyes tethered to the passionate sex scene playing on his laptop screen.

His breathing was heavy, pupils dilated as he watched the man's dick assault the bounded woman's pussy, coming out covered in white cum juices. She was trying to get away from him, but the restraints were not letting her. She had no choice but to take it.

Fuck. He needed sex.

As Sunghoon rubbed his clothed dick, sighing at the delicious friction, his mind drifted off to you.

Pink.

He swallowed the spit gathering in his mouth and reached across the table to open his hidden drawer. Rummaging impatiently with one hand while his other was busy touching himself, sunghoon groaned when he found the one thing that he was looking for. The pink lace underwear in his hand was old and dirty with cum stains. Sunghoon knew that he was responsible for its sorry state. That's what he gets for jerking off in it like an animal anytime you so much as smiled at him.

But he wasn't the only one to blame. You were equally responsible for fueling his perverted tendencies. Prancing around the house in your short little pink skirts. Sunghoon was never the one to go for hyperfeminine women but turns out you were an exception. With your pink bows and pink gloss and pink skirts and pink tops, you were like the sweetest candy that was waiting to be bitten into and tasted. sunghoon craved you with every fibre of his being.

The fact that you were forbidden only increased his desire tenfold. You were his step sister for fuck's sake but his dick throbbed at the mere sight of you. Blasphemous. But who cared? Not HIM.

Sunghoon buried his nose in your panties in hopes of inhaling your addicting scent but groaned in frustration instead. It no longer smelled like you. Fucking hell.

He was drunk and horny and you were the only thing running laps across his mind. He wanted to bury himself into your tight little body. Now.

Sunghoon briefly paused his ministrations and listened for the football match still playing in the living room across the hallway. the volume was loud enough that his parents would not be able to hear the nasty sounds of fucking from your room. He quickly shut down his laptop and tredged his way to your room right across from his own. His dick hung long and heavy in between in legs, straining painfully against his boxer briefs.

Your door was ajar, like always, a careless habit of yours that had given sunghoon countless opportunities to sneak inside and act out his perverse desires.

But he'd never gone this far. Never gone as far as to actually touch you. As he watched your scantily covered body resting so sinfully against the pink sheets, an inexplicable heat spread throughout his limbs. His body worked faster than his brain and he reached inside his back pocket to take out the handcuffs he'd picked up from his room. quickly setting up his phone right across from your bed , sunghoon hastily took off his boxers, ready to ravage you the entire night.

You stirred up when you felt a heavy weight settle onto your body, you tried moving your hands, mumbling and squirming in your sleep but your hands refused to move. Something was holding them down. A sharp pain in between your legs punched a gasp out of your chest, your eyes flying open at the sudden intrusion into your body, your mouth opening in a silent scream. Your bleary eyes met sunghoon's who was breathing uncharacteristically heavy on top of you. Tears gathered at your waterline, the sting in your lower region spreading throughout your pelvis. your core was throbbing from his cock tearing through your hymen so mercilessly. you tried to free your bound hands, but to no avail.

"Wh-what are you doing" you asked with wobbly lips but sunghoon's eyes were dark and unseeing as he stared into yours. You had never seen him like this before. "Gonna use you to satisfy my dick" he whispered and started pistoning his dick in and out of you. A pained moan left your lips as his thick dick dragged against your dry gummy walls. You could have screamed and begged him to stop, but you'd be lying if you said that you'd didn't dream of this every single night. Your step brother was hot and he made you hot. Your mother had kept you away from boys your entire life, so you had never given much thought to your sexual desires, never indulging in pleasures of the flesh. But all of that changed when sunghoon came into the picture.

He grabbed your wet cheeks and stuck his tongue inside your mouth forcefully, tasting your hot mouth with a fervent passion. You moaned and arched into his touch as he began pounding into you. His lips were harsh on your pillowy ones, his tongue moving languidly inside your warm cavity. The pain mixed with pleasure made you sob, your fingers curling around the handcuffs around your wrists.

"God , always wanted to fuck your virgin little pussy, waited for so fucking long" he moaned into your mouth. You pushed your chest up against him as he rotated his hips in a circular motion, grinding into your cervix, his cockhead rubbing and poking your g spot in a delicious rut. "h-hurts" you cried, your pussy struggling to fit him inside, the stretch was too painful.

"Mhmm bet it does baby" he panted on your face and reached down to rub against your clit to make your pussy wetter. the stimulation against your sensitive bud made you squeal and thrash under him. You sobbed as the pain started turning into sweet pleasure, your pussy began to drool, wet sounds coming from the continuous collision of his pelvis with yours. His teeth dug into your lower plump lip with an intention to hurt, your red swollen mouth was too tempting for sunghoon to resist.

"You feel so much better than my hand baby, fuck, so hot and tight" His fingers dug into your soft waist, bruising the flesh with his harsh grip while his thrusts became faster, the headboard now slamming against the wall. A fleeting thought of your parents came into your mind but you weren't able to dwell on it for long, the heat spreading inside your pussy overshadowing every other thought. His hand left your clit and he folded your body into half. He cursed upon seeing your fucked out face, your tongue hanging out while drool escaped your mouth. Fuck. Sunghoon's palms moved up to grope your chest, pinching and twisting your pert nipples painfully from above your flimsy nighty, a whine leaving your lips at his actions.

"we could do this all day baby, you just have to keep quiet and we could-mhmm god-fuck all day" His hands slid down to press upon your abdomen, eyes rolling back upon tracing his own cock through the bulge in your tummy.

"B-but it's wrong" You mewled, your toes curling when he applied more pressure on your lower stomach. He bent down to nibble on your earlobe, his thick dick reaching deeper in this new angle. "Yeah, it's so fucking wrong baby, you shouldn't be drooling around your step brother's dick like a slut" He grunted into your ear and grinded his groin against yours. The Squelching sounds resonating in the room were disgusting but so, so hot, your sweaty bodies rutting against each other to reach carnal pleasure.

Sunghoon pulled all the way out and thrusted inside, snapping his hips into your cunt again and again. Your silky walls wrapped around him so snugly, his breath coming out in harsh pants. "Nasty little girl, what will your mom think if she found you bouncing on my dick like this?" His dirty words made you cry out in disgust mixed with arousal. He swore under his breath upon feeling you clench on his dick. You felt So wet and So fucking tight, he swore he could taste heaven at the top of his tongue. he watched your legs flailing around while he forced himself into your tight hole repeatedly, without mercy, the sight so erotic that he could feel his orgasm approaching. He was pounding you into the sheets furiously, all the pent up sexual tension causing havoc on your cervix. You tried to stifle your moans but he was too big and too rough for your tiny, inexperienced body. The pace of his hips became faster and harsher, his grunts and groans reaching a fever pitch, the pressure in his balls ready to burst.

"Take my dick baby, take it like a fucking whore" he punched out with a few more thrusts, his hips stuttering and then stilling inside of you all at once, filling you full of his hot cum. "Ah fuckk fuck" He moaned through his orgasm, he was cumming so much, his hips still moving back and forth. Before you knew it, he began thrusting into you again, your cries of pleasure turning him into an insatiable beast.

"cant stop fucking this cunt" He groaned and started edging you, angling his hips in such a way that it felt good but not enough to make you cum. Your eyes were blurry and you started sobbing in frustration, moving your hips up to grind against his dick. His calloused palms held your waist and helped you move your hips on him, stilling his movements while he watched you fuck yourself dumb on his cock. Your eyes were dizzy with pleasure, small whimpers falling from your swollen lips, but you couldn't stop rotating your hips, thrusting upwards to make his dick reach your delicious spots. Sunghoon clenched his jaw at the sight of his cum leaking out of your hungry hole while he was still buried inside you. the way your arms struggled against the handcuffs above your head while your hips chased his hard cock was driving him crazy in lust. You looked like his fucking wet dream.

"Yeah, keep fucking it baby, fuck it like it's yours" He grunted, moving your body back and forth on his dick like a fleshlight. It felt too good, his dick throbbing inside your warm pussy. He wanted to start fucking you again but his pervert instincts took over instead. You whined in disappointment as he pulled out of your needy whole, your pussy trying to suck him back in. You watched in confusion while sunghoon came back to the bed with his phone, he turned on your tv which was set up right across your bed and connected his device to it. reaching above you to free your hands, he threw the handcuffs to the side.

You hissed and rubbed against the red marks on your wrists, freezing mid movement when you heard moans coming from your tv screen. Your moans, specifically. Your wide eyes turned towards the tv and you saw yourself. Saw your own body tied up to the bed as sunghoon pushed himself inside of you, rutting against you while you cried. In disbelief, you looked over to sunghoon and gulped at the scene in front of you. His hand was wrapped around his thick dick, jerking off to the footage of you two having sex. Hot arousal rushed through your lower body and your hand moved down to apply pressure to your throbbing clit. You should have been angry at the fact that you had been recorded without your consent, but you didn't think sunghoon cared much about consent and its synonyms.

"Fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned, this was hotter than any porn he had ever wanked off to. The way your tiny body struggled underneath his big one on the screen, his dick moving in and out of you without mercy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head while his hips clenched as he fucked into you passionately. All of it was too much. He could see you rubbing your clit, getting off to the obscene sounds on your tv. He squeezed his tip and cursed "fuck baby make yourself cum, it's so fucking hot isn't it?"

You nodded and whined, your moans overlapping with the moans coming from the speaker. Too good, it felt too good. You rubbed your clit faster, looking to the side to watch sunghoon jerk off furiously. His palm moved up and down, playing with his own balls, his entire chest covered in a sheen of sweat. "Im-im so close" you whined and he groaned, watching you gather his cum out of your abused hole with your free hand and suck onto your fingers, basically slurping on his cum. "Oh my fucking god " He sighed, his own eyes closing shut at the pleasure.

The Squelching sounds on the screen mixed with the filthy sounds of you both masturbating like perverts pushed you over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a damn train, your back arched off the bed while you kept rubbing yourself to ride your high. The filthy taste of sunghoon's cum on your tongue was too good. Sunghoon came just moments later, eyes fixated on your swollen pussy, spilling all over his palms and thighs "oh yeah, shit shit shit" he hissed while he rubbed himself raw.

Small sighs of pleasure and satisfaction filled the space between your heated bodies. As you both came down from your mind blowing orgasms, the bodies continued rutting against each other on the screen. It was starting to get hot again. The passion permeating your senses. You squirmed and met sunghoon's eyes which were already set on you. They were dark and blown in lust. Before you could say anything, he was hovering over your spent body again, rubbing his cockhead against your swollen clit, making you whimper in overstimulation.

"let's fuck while we watch us fuck"

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Born of Confusion and Quiet Collusion | (joel miller x reader) (18+)

pairing: stepfather!joel miller x fem!reader summary: he’s been in your life since you were fourteen, the first reliable father figure you’ve had in your life. but you’re not a child anymore. and you’re not the only one who’s noticed that.  warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] sleazy/deadbeat stepdad!joel, age gap (joel is 51, reader is 20), stepcest (v self-referential), daddy!kink, size!kink, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected piv, deepthroating, cum-eating, marking, ball-sucking, angst!!! a lot of it!!!, smoking, drinking, infidelity, v brief mentions of past domestic abuse and past impregnation of a minor (16) via statutory r*pe (neither apply to joel or reader), too many religious metaphors, reader has a landing strip because…I said so word count: ~10.6K | ao3 a/n: I had such a good time writing this. it didn’t turn out as PWP as initially intended, but I love it just the same. this is definitely not your mother’s stepcest fic (it’s her husband’s 🤪) but it’s still horny and sick and twisted and I hope you cry or cum or both ❤️ if people like this, there is a possibility of a part 2! title from lana my queen ♥️ thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers <3

Masterlist | Kofi

Blinding sun has begun to streak across the sidewalks in your childhood neighborhood. Patches of grass and wildflowers sprout from the cracks in the pavement. Vibrant chalk drawings smear from trekking feet. Sprinklers stutter and hiss for giggling children — a picturesque snapshot of youthful frivolity, submerged in the ephemeral gloss of summer vacation.

In a way, it feels like you’ve never left. For the past two years, you’ve only come home for the summer from college. Which is unfortunate considering how beautiful New England is in the summer. Instead your thighs are sticking to plastic benches at fast-casual restaurants in Texas, where it feels like the devil himself has his head between your legs anywhere you sit.

Of course, it’s always nice to see your mother. Never without a pitcher of sweet ice tea in the fridge, never without a pasted-on Southern debutante smile, and never a single hair that’s not bleached to hell on her head. Frazzled and air-headed as they come, flighty as a hummingbird, but easily reined and tethered to the earth with one hand by…Joel.

Oh, what could you say about Joel?

He loves your mother, you’ll say that much. You’ve never seen a man as drawn to his wife as you have him. The touches are constant, the compliments doled out like those strawberry bonbons on your grandmother’s coffee table. It’s been seven years and he still acts like your living room is the lobby heading to the honeymoon suite they call a bedroom.

As a result, you wouldn’t be caught dead without headphones at any given time in your home. You’ve heard far too much over these seven years to not know to be prepared.

But what Joel makes up for in physical affection, he severely lacks in any other form of decorum. His recliner is perfectly molded to his body, his side table littered with cigarette butts and empty Pabst cans. The blare of NASCAR is ever-present, and you swear you can see the outline of an ad-riddled Camaro burned into the television screen.

On any given Saturday you hear “Beer, baby,” about a dozen times.

Beer, baby.

Beer, baby.

‘Nother beer, baby.

They almost don’t sound like real words after the first several. Just a nonsensical pattern of plosives spewing into the air that your mother is conditioned to respond to like a dog.

Beer, baby.

and then,

Snick. Crack. Fizz.

And she never complains, as far as you’ve heard.

You’d tried one time to yank her out of the trance.

“Mom, you don’t have to be his little barmaid, you know. He can get his own beer,” you’d said.

She just smiled that plastic smile, slid her hands down his chest from behind his chair, kissed his sweaty temple, and said, “‘Least I can do for my white knight. Ain’t never no skin off my nose.”

“White knight with the biggest sword in the land,” Joel had tacked on for his own benefit, grabbing his crotch lewdly with a filthy grin before your mother swatted him playfully and gathered his empty beer cans.

The thing about your mother’s current questionable standards is that your biological father was a shitbag, to put it lightly. He’d gotten your mom pregnant when she was just short of seventeen, and he was thirty-five. And that’s just the beginning. He’s locked up now, but he’d had about fourteen years to do damage to her in this very home that he bought for your little family to maintain appearances of family values.

To her, Joel is her white knight. She was a single mother of a teenage girl with an ex-husband in the slammer and a dead-end receptionist job at a local travel agency.

Joel showered her with love and praise without the shadow of the back of his hand just behind. And maybe he was still fifteen years her senior. Maybe he didn’t have money. Maybe he was a deadbeat, beer-bellied local with a million excuses as to why jobs never work out for him (a “Type A” personality, he likes to blame it on. Which you’re unsure he even knows what that means given that the only Type A you’ve observed in him that he could credibly claim is his blood type).

But he loved your mother when she needed it the most. And he loved her enough that he accepted the package deal the two of you came as. So there’s only so much you could hold against him.

And not that this would ever matter, in any universe, but in spite of his dirty undershirts, his ratty sweatpants, his prominent beer gut…Joel is not an unattractive man. He cleans up very well on the rare occasion your mother has required him to, and you see a sparkle of what your mother sees in him on a daily basis.

A sparkle that, for reasons unbeknownst to you, had your hand sliding into your panties once or twice or more growing up when you were still discovering your own sexuality in your twin bed with your headphones in.

You haven’t done that for years now. You barely even remember it happened. But you don’t think of Joel that way. Joel is just…Joel. He’s your stepfather. Love of your mother’s life. The stability she needed. For seven years, that’s how it’s stayed.

When you return to your house in the evening of a hot Summer night, ear freshly talked off by your old friend from high school and a stomach satiated with your favorite local spot, your mother is working on dinner for her and Joel at the stove, still dressed in her work attire.

“Looks good, sexy mama,” Joel says, slapping her ass and gripping a handful of it as he kisses her neck.

She giggles and bats him away. “Oh, shoo. Go sit and it’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

He fits in one final grope before plodding over to his recliner and powering on the television, eyeing you as you slip your sandals off by the front door.

“How’s Nancy?” He asks in his deep drawl, pulling the arm of the recliner until the footrest pops up for him to prop his socked feet.

“Francie,” you correct, tossing your keys into the dish on the antique wooden console table by the door. One your mother and you had spotted at an estate sale when you were seven, and one you’ve made a mental note to make sure none of your sticky-finger relatives get their hands on before you have a solid place of your own to furnish and you can take a piece of your childhood home with you.

“Francie. That’s right. How’s Francie?”

“She’s good. She thinks Josh is gonna propose soon.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” your mom pipes in, plopping a hand over her heart as she stirs. “I always liked that Josh. Always holds the door open for me when I stop by Sal’s.”

“Yeah, he’s alright,” you say dismissively. What you don’t say is how he’s already cheated on Francie twice in as many years, but she keeps going back. But that’s none of your business in the end. Francie’s always been one to do what she’s going to do.

“Well, what about that boy you been seein’ every goddamn night?” Joel asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Hasn’t been every goddamn night,” you sass back, propping your hand on your hip in front of him. “We’ve been on four dates.”

“Been real long dates,” Joel says, a clear inclination in his voice.

“They have not been real long dates, Joel. They’ve been normal dates.”

“Oh, leave her be, J,” your mom scolds lightly. “She’s just havin’ fun, aren’t you, blossom?”

“I guess,” you mutter, studying the old magazines on the coffee table. “Hoping it becomes something a little more serious than ‘just fun’ soon.”

“Caught your eye, didn’t he? He’d be a dumbass to throw that away,” Joel says with surety. “Knew that the second I looked at your mama. You girls are a prize. Beautiful as all get-out.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, shifting your weight a little uncomfortably at the compliment.

Joel’s mouth falls into a smirk as he taps his side table. “You wanna make like your mama and grab me a beer, sweet girl?”

You scoff, giving him a look of disgust. “Fuck off.”

Joel gives an upside-down smile and shrugs before hollering at your mother, “Beer, baby.”

You let out an annoyed sigh and head off toward the kitchen. “I’ll fucking get it, mom. Lazy ass,” you mutter the last two words under your breath.

“Thank you, doll,” your mom says, a wide smile on her face as you pull open the fridge and retrieve his drink. You slam it down on his tiny table with thinly-veiled irritation, flourishing your hands towards it in a facetious “ta-da” gesture.

Joel looks at the can, then up at you. “Ain’t gonna open it?”

“For fuck’s sake,” you bite out incredulously, turning on your heel toward your bedroom. “Open it yourself,” you yell over your shoulder as you head down the hall.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” you hear him bellow to you with a laugh in his voice as you shut your door.

—

Your mom is acting different lately. Pushing Joel away more when he becomes affectionate. More short-tempered at random moments with him. You’ve already witnessed her going off on him once since you’ve been home about him not doing the simplest things. Tidying up the table, forgetting to run errands for her while she’s at work, emptying his own ashtray. Her patience is much thinner the last several weeks since you’ve been home, and you’re not sure for how long prior.

But you see her smiling at her phone one evening when Joel is out at a bar with his friends. It’s a certain kind of smile. Less plastered on, more secretive in its delight. Forty minutes later she tells you she’s playing some late-night pinochle at a friend’s and to not wait up for her. She looks awful dolled up for a card game night with “friends”, but you say nothing.

She’s playing some “late-night pinochle” with someone, alright, you think.

Joel stumbles in at 2 AM, clattering loudly around in the kitchen. You pad out of your room in your sleep shorts and tank top, squinting into the bright kitchen lights.

“The fuck are you doing, Joel?”

His head whips around, hand frozen on the handle of an open kitchen drawer. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry, didn’t know I’d wake ya.”

“You’re being noisy as fuck. What are you rooting around in here for?”

“Ran outta smokes. I know I got a spare pack stashed in here.”

You sigh tiredly, resting your chin on your hand on the counter. “Junk drawer on the right.”

Joel follows your instructions and emerges victorious, waggling the pack in the air. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off, pushing yourself off the counter to head back to your slumber.

“Wanna have a smoke with me out back?”

You stare at him blankly for a moment. “I don’t really smoke.”

Joel fixes you with a telling look, eyebrows raised. “Mama’s not home. You wanna have a smoke with me?”

You stand quiet for a pause, but then roll your eyes and tilt your head to the back door in a silent acquiescence. Joel smiles lightly and follows your gesture, slipping a cigarette into your hand as he passes.

The night air is still balmy, but there is a light breeze. You hunker down on the porch steps and Joel flicks his lighter for the both of you.

You’re not a habitual smoker. It’s purely social and for the occasional nerves. Your mom hates smoking, even hates that Joel does it. But she really doesn’t want you to get trapped in it. And as far as she knows, you’ve never had nicotine in your life. She definitely doesn’t know that you’d surreptitiously coerced Joel into offering you your first cigarette at sixteen. On these exact same steps.

You smoke in relative silence for several minutes, the cicadas chirping around you and the wood creaking underneath.

Then, into the dark, “She’s steppin’ out on me.”

You look over at him, legs spread, half-smoked cigarette dangling between them, and looking a little more haggard than you remember seeing him before.

Something about the softness in his face, the puffiness under his eyes, has you looking at him in a more sympathetic light that has nothing to do with the dying glow of the bulb above the doorway.

“Don’t talk about my mom like that,” you mutter gently. But he’s right and you know it. You don’t know the details, but she’s not being the most subtle about it.

“Don’t want to,” Joel replies, taking another pull from his smoke. “But the signs’ve been there for a while.”

You nod silently in understanding, feeling the burn of the smoke in your throat.

Joel sighs, tendrils of smoke billowing from his mouth. “Happens, I guess. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

“Yeah. It’ll blow over,” you agree. Joel doesn’t respond again, just stares out at the overgrown, weed-infested back lawn. You knock your knee against his until you have his attention. You reassure him, “It’ll blow over.”

Joel stares at you for a prolonged minute, then bumps your knee back. A heavy palm falls low onto your bare thigh, stroking gently with a thick thumb. Goosebumps flare up under it immediately, a strange feeling in your stomach ramping up at the graze of him. You blink and take another drag.

Joel’s hand slides off your leg, leaving a bizarre chill in its wake. He pulls himself up and taps out the smoldering butt onto the railing.

“It’ll blow over,” he confirms, pushing open the door and disappearing inside.

Tightness constricts in your chest as you desperately suck down to the filter on your cigarette, jettisoning the smoke into the air pensively.

A lot has changed since you were sixteen.

—

The night had not gone as planned. Six dates and you really thought this would be the one. You knew it would be long distance, but you thought he liked you.

You hadn’t even gone on Tinder with the intent of finding a relationship, but then you went on a few dates and you thought, maybe you could do it. He’s cute, sweet, makes you come and then fucks you well. You had thought this would be the night. The “Will you be my girlfriend” night, not the “This isn’t going to work” night. So you’re fighting back tears as he awkwardly drives you home.

Joel is in his chair, beer in hand, when you walk through the door. You’re really not in the mood, so you beeline it for the hallway.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweet girl?” Joel calls after you as you sequester yourself in your room, chuck your heels at your closet, and hurl yourself onto your bed.

Not two minutes go by before a light knock sounds at your door. “You okay, sweet girl?”

“Fuck off,” you yell back at him through the closed door. But the door opens, and Joel is there, leaning against the doorway.

“Date go to shit?”

“How tactful,” you grumble, wringing the pillow in your lap with your hands and dropping your head back against your headboard.

Joel chuckles, but he looks earnest in his interest. “Come on, darlin’. What happened?”

You shrug dismissively, throat thick with your restrained emotions.

Joel knocks on the doorway in an awkward fidget, before ultimately crossing the barrier into your room and sitting on the bed at your feet, looking at you expectantly.

You bite your lower lip, doing your damndest to stave off the tears. “He broke things off.”

“Dumbass,” Joel mutters.

“I’m the dumbass.”

“You’re not a dumbass. I would know, wouldn’t I?” Joel teases, jostling your foot lightly.

A hint of a smile forms on your face. “Yeah, you would. Dumbass extraordinaire.”

Joel matches your smile with an upturn of the corner of his mouth. He tugs at your ankle. “Come ‘ere.”

You groan, but toss the pillow aside and scoot down the bed next to him, folding your legs to the side in your wrinkled dress. Joel wraps an arm around you and pulls you into him. You sigh and lower your head onto his shoulder.

“It’s fucking stupid, but I liked him,” you say quietly.

“He don’t deserve you,” he says, hugging around your waist.

“Apparently no boy does, at this point,” you sniffle. The scent of Joel fills your nostrils — beer, cigarettes, a thin sheen of sweat. It should be off-putting, but it smells like growing up. Like maturity.

“You’re right. No boy does.”

The arm around you shifts, and once again, a hand. Warm on your thigh. Midway up this time, just below the hem of your dress. You stare down at it, conflicted.

“What do you mean?” You ask, fearing you already know the answer.

“I think you need a man,” Joel rumbles, squeezing at your thigh.

You swallow thickly, unable to look away from the masculine hand clamped onto your leg, a little less than innocently.

“Joel? Where’s my mom?”

When Joel doesn’t reply, you pry your eyes from his hand to study his face. You see his expression and the answer passes between you wordlessly.

She’s not here. You both know where she is. And you both know she won’t be back for a good while.

Joel’s gaze fixes on yours as his hand slips up a single inch, pinky dipping just under your skirt.

“Joel…” you whisper, but you don’t think he quite hears it. His eyes drop down to your mouth and stay there, watch as your tongue flicks over your suddenly very dry lips. “What are you doing?”

A casual smile twitches onto his lips as another inch is lost between him and a ticking time bomb. He just repeats, “You deserve a man.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as his hand closes the distance, dress dragging up your thigh until his pinky brushes the soft fabric of your panties. Your eyes drift closed at the feather-light touch, a war waging in your head.

Joel was not the one meant to discover the type of underwear that’s under this dress tonight. He’s the very last person you expected. As he should be. He’s your stepfather. You’ve overheard him fucking your mother countless times.

Overheard how good he is. How big he is. How thorough he is.

Your leg quivers under his palm, your jaw clenching with the discordance in your mind.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” you say shakily, fingers gripping the sheets under you. “I don’t think you should be doing this.”

Joel’s gaze bounces between your eyes and your lips. Then he gives you a sultry look and speaks the forbidden words.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Your fingers dance anxiously as Joel’s pinky grazes up the crotch of your panties again, where you’re terrified he’s going to find you responding favorably to this scenario.

“You want me to keep it a secret from my mother that her husband fucked her only daughter?” You burst out in a single breath. You feel lightheaded and tingly. You can’t parse your thoughts and they’re starting to get crowded.

“Already usin’ the past tense, huh?” Joel says huskily, and you feel his hand burrowing in between your thighs until two fingers press at the seam of your pussy over your underwear. “Seems like your mind’s already made up, sweet girl.”

You whimper quietly, the clouds in your brain growing denser by the second. Then, without ever actively deciding on a course of action, your legs are resituating themselves into a position much less concerned with modesty. Your thighs are spreading with zero input from your critical thinking skills, and a stifled groan slips out of Joel.

“Feels like it, too,” Joel moans, fingers rubbing over what must be a prominent wet spot on your panties.

You release your first moan, and it seems to echo around your room and back into your ears, spearing through the overcast in your head. You finally vocalize what you really should keep inside at this point, but it needs to be said.

“Joel, I-I’m your stepdaughter. Y-you’re my stepfather. We can’t.”

Joel’s nose ghosts up your jaw, nuzzling into the curve of your neck. “Grown woman, aren’t ya? Ain’t my blood, neither.”

“My mom…”

“Your mama ain’t gonna find out. I sure as shit ain’t gonna tell her.”

“I can’t lie to her,” you insist, but your mouth drops open as one of his fingers strokes at the crease of your thigh and your pussy, shaved smooth mere hours ago for your date. His skin on your skin, in a place where it should never fucking be.

“You’re so goddamn sexy,” Joel breathes into your neck, and his lips land just after, shoving your concerns to the side. You jump at the stroke of his tongue over your throat, the scrape of his teeth, and all at once you’re slave to it.

You fall onto your back and he follows you down, straddling your hips and cupping your jaw, pushing it upward as he sucks at your neck. If you don’t stop him, he’s going to leave a mark. As if he hasn’t already. The deed is as good as done.

“Joel, be carefu—”

“Don’t call me Joel,” he growls, nipping below your ear.

“What do I call you?”

Joel’s mouth halts on you, exhaling over his saliva on your skin. “Daddy. Call me daddy,” he instructs, latching onto you again.

“Fuck,” you sigh, craning your neck up for his enjoyment. “That’s so fucked.”

Joel’s laugh borders on unhinged as he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, “We’re already fucked. Would be a waste to half-ass it.”

He hooks a finger into the gusset of your underwear and tugs it to the side, and you can sense him watching your expressions as your eyes clench shut in disbelief that this is actually happening, while not even dreaming of telling him to stop.

Air rushes out your chest as a thick finger glides through the folds of your cunt, confirming your arousal with damning evidence.

“Jesus, you’re juicy as a fuckin’ peach, darlin’,” Joel groans, sounding almost pained at the discovery.

“Not the first time. I used to think about you,” you admit, a runaway train, brakes shot. “When I was younger.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that,” Joel moans, forehead pressing against your temple. “Give people the wrong idea.”

“Never telling anyone else. Just you. Besides, I’m all woman now…daddy,” you coo, testing the waters.

“Fuck,” he swears loudly again, another finger joining the first to massage at your clit. “Nasty, naughty girl. You take after your mama.”

You whine and wriggle under him at the comparison, but by some inexplicable, Freudian twist of fate, a distant, previously obscured light in your chest begins to beam. “Keep touching me, daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

“Yes, you will,” Joel says in response. Not like an order or an expectation. But like it’s a given. Like you’d ever behave any other way beneath him. As if he’d known all along, all seven years, that you would end up right here. Disheveled and heartbroken on your twin-sized, pastel pink duvet, with paternal fingers that have biblically, intimately known the inside of your creator, the site of your creation, now acquainting themselves with the life she created.

Do you feel like her? Do you have her lips like you have her mouth? Has this man successfully sown and reaped the benefits of a distressingly similar — kindred — octet of lips? Matching horizontal and vertical smiles all thirsting, parched, yet drooling for him under a single roof? If he closes his eyes, could he tell the difference?

Joel’s breath is at your ear, sending chills over your flesh from head to toe, muddying your mind.

“Take off your dress.”

A full-body shudder wracks through you at the order, a traitorous flood of wetness flowing from your opening as Joel continues to explore you with his touch. You begin shrugging out of your dress straps until steadying fingers cling to your thigh.

Joel pulls your focus with damp fingers perched on the underside of your chin, your own slick marring your skin at the hand of your father figure. Your lip trembles as he commands your attention.

“Stand up. And take it off. For me,” he instructs measuredly, bringing his thumb down to stroke the point of your chin softly.

A burning starts in your throat, like the smolder of one of his cigarettes slipped into your mouth. “Y-you want me to strip for you?”

Joel’s lips slant upwards and he says, “I wanna see everything you have to offer your daddy.”

You nod, the blaze in your throat sizzling to your chest as you long to reveal all you have to him.

You extract from the cage of his limbs to upright yourself, smoothing the line of your dress down to its full length, hitting you mid-thigh. Your hand twists back to capture your zipper, and with torturous patience, you work it downward. Your straps droop down your shoulders with the slack, and you’re quick to wrap an arm around your breasts to prevent too premature an exposure. You get the feeling that a man like Joel appreciates the delay of gratification, if his ask of you putting on a show for him is any indication.

The zipper ends precariously at the top of your ass, the sides of your dress falling open to show the expanse of your back to him along with the band of your bra.

“Fuck,” you hear him say under his breath, the squeak of your mattress springs sounding as he moves behind you into an unknown position on the bed.

You languidly slip your arms from the straps entirely, pressing the dress to your tits for a moment longer before letting the top of the garment fall at the waist, holding it to your stomach instead.

“Just like that, sweetheart. That’s right,” Joel grinds out, the springs squealing again, but this time accompanied by the rasp of a different zipper.

Curiosity, eagerness get the better of you, and you start to turn. But you’re instantly met with a hard, “Uh-uh. Keep lookin’ forward. You’ll get an eyeful soon enough.”

You fix your gaze forward again, struggling to keep up this glacial charade when you have good reason to believe what you long to see is now just behind you. So you bring your hands to the side of your dress and shift it down, bending at the waist to put your ass on display in your lacy thong you’d worn for your date, until the dress at last crumples to the floor.

A low whistle sings behind you as you stay bent for a decent few seconds before standing at full height again. Your fingers fiddle with the clasps of your bra at your back, coming apart with practiced ease. The article hits the floor as well, your tits free to the air and your nipples hardening at the exposure.

“God, you’re such a good girl, aren’t ya? Finish the picture for daddy.”

You whimper, your fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your thong on either side. With a final flair of showmanship, you shimmy the elastic strap of your panties up and down with a slight sway in your hips, before bending at the waist again as the last stitch of clothing on your body sounds a silent death knell as it hits the carpet of your childhood bedroom.

The air feels thick and weighty as the quiet stretches. You can hear the hum of voices from the television Joel didn’t shut off before he sought to damn the both of you. You could wrestle with the reality that the soundtrack to your irredeemable sin is a King of the Hill rerun, but Joel is still on your bed, and you’re still hands-to-ankles, laying waste to each and every ounce of sense you’ve accrued in your twenty years.

A resounding groan shatters your trance as Joel thrusts you back into the situation at hand. “Fuckin’ Christ,” you hear, and then the loud thump of Joel’s knees crashing to the ground, rough hands startling you as they take hold of your hips. Your palms slam to the carpet to maintain your balance as wet lips suck open-mouthed kisses onto your asscheek.

“Oh, fuck,” you sigh loudly, your feet arching onto your tip-toes as the kisses close in on your aching core. Two thumbs part the split of your pussy from behind, and Joel doesn’t waste another second diving in. A large, flattened tongue licks a line up the length of your pussy, clit to entrance, leaving your legs shaking.

Another deep, gratuitous moan rings out, and Joel’s mouth is stroking over you with rigorous passion. Joel comes up for air, but only to take an aggressive bite into the globe of your ass, one sure to leave behind unmistakable, irrefutable physical evidence of exactly who had been there.

It’s foreboding.

But why does it feel like sanctuary?

A tug at your hips, and you’re at last spinning back around to face him.

And his eyes are ravenous. Ruinous.

His mouth descends onto your mound, slobbering up the small strip of hair you left as a guiding path to whoever sought to grant you pleasure.

An almost-boyfriend.

Or a stepfather.

But he goes against the grain, kissing further and further north of your throbbing cunt, over your stomach, up your sternum. Your spit-slick tits find refuge in the confines of his hands, groping, pushing, pulling at them as your nipples drag against his palms.

You manage to steal a glimpse between you, fiending for a sneak peek of that sword he constantly boasts about. He hasn’t revealed much, other than a sizeable bulge and a red, shining head poking out from the band of his boxers. It’s enough to have you imagining what it will feel like inside you, crying out for it to become reality.

His lips claim your neck with purpose as he steers you toward your bed, the backs of your legs giving way and cascading the both of you into a sea of bedding. Your head nestles among your pillows as Joel works his way south again.

Joel looks up at you as he approaches the seam of your pussy. Heated exhales tease at your clit as he says, “You always screamin’ about why your mama keeps me around? Lemme show you why.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to take in the sight of your stepfather’s mouth sinking down onto your pussy and dancing his tongue over the bundle of nerves that has been throbbing for him. The first sucking pull of his mouth on you has your head tipping back in an entirely unhindered moan, and you have to flop it back down, your chin colliding with your chest in your haste to view the bob of his head between your legs.

Joel’s work is impressive to say the least. His tongue drags up and down the length of you, stopping to circle your clit with a pointed tip and suck you back into the wet warmth of him. Your entrance leaks in excessive excitement as he riles you up with gusto, hands framing you at the inside of your thighs and spreading you wide for his consumption.

He breaks away, not allowing himself to go far, to croon over your soaked core, “Such a sweet pussy on such a sweet girl.”

You exhale heavily, browns furrowing in overwhelming pleasure as he directs his attention back to your clit. A finger tests the bounds of your opening, stroking the perimeter of the point of no return.

He knows the outside of you now. He’s familiarized himself with every inch of the surface of your skin, either with his eyes, or with the aid of his mouth. Inside is foreign territory. Inside is unforgivable.

He slides in so easily, it’s like you rolled out a welcome mat and propped open the door. He’s filled you to the webbing of his fingers in a manner of a half-second, and you feel dizzy with it.

Then he’s fucking you with it, and it’s like you’re floating. The grip of your cunt around his finger has him moaning around your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body.

He crooks his finger, stroking at the softest part of you, and you feel yourself unraveling at an alarming pace.

“Daddy…daddy…” you call out desperately, hands thrusting into the sheets to scramble for something to keep you earth-bound.

“You gonna come for me?” Joel says, hovering only for a brief moment above your clit to ensure you maintain your high. “Come on, come for your daddy,” he finishes, diving right back onto your clit and thrusting a second finger into you along with the first, honing in on your blessed g-spot like he had it marked on a map of you from the second he met you.

All said and done, it takes him minutes to bring you to the brink of destruction, where you’re squeezing around his practiced fingers and arching for the sky, screaming exactly what he’d instructed you to call him.

His mouth remains warm and diligent against you as you work through the throes, pulling the full extent of your pleasure to its frayed ends, until you’re pushing him away with trembling hands to get some reprieve.

Joel’s head falls against your thigh as he levels his breathing, soaked fingers streaking your hip. The bed frame wobbles as he starts to grind against the mattress.

“Goddamn. I usually make your mama come at least three times before I even stick my dick inside her. But feelin' how tight your little cunt is clenching on my fingers I’d be a damn fool not to take a test drive right fuckin’ now. One’ll have to be enough.”

You whimper, your legs falling open to accommodate his broadness as he moves up your body. Your fist tugs at his shirt as you say, “Wanna see you too.”

Joel glances down at himself and gives a little wince. “Not nearly as pretty as you are, sweet girl.”

“I don’t care.”

Joel sighs, sitting back on his haunches. “Alright, but you ain’t gettin’ the whole rigmarole,” he says, reaching behind him to grab the back collar of his shirt and pull it over his head, damning it with the rest of your clothes on the floor. His cock is quickly freed of its confines as the godforsaken pile builds, and you get your first real look at him.

And for all the little white lies Joel tells, you have to give him credit. The boasting was not borne of a necessity for overcompensation.

Joel is big.

You should have guessed. In every passing gloat from Joel, your mother has never argued the opposite. She only ever grows embarrassed, smacks him lightly for being crass.

Apparently his doting compliments and pussy-eating prowess are not the only reasons she’s kept him around.

“‘M I what you expected, sweet girl?” Joel asks, his eyes hooded as a hand strokes down the length of himself with a casual, justified pride that only exists in men who are impressively sized and they know it.

The dumbfounded expression on your face refuses to dissipate as you shake your head “no”, followed by a flurry of rapid blinking as you nod your head “yes”. Then a confounded response sputters out, “I-I didn’t know what to expect. You always said…but I didn’t….”

“‘S okay, darlin’. Normal for a girl to go cockdumb when she sees a dick like this for the first time.”

You just nod, a woman possessed by her deepest, darkest desires, regardless of how sick and depraved they may be to the sound mind.

And, god help you, you are not currently of sound mind. Maybe you couldn’t prove that in a court of law, but in your own psyche, you certainly are clearly lacking in the logic sector at the moment.

Joel really has nothing to be concerned with in the looks department. Your eyes are transfixed on one thing only, up until your field of view is robbed of it, replaced by the glassy-eyed lust on Joel’s face as he drapes over you.

“Fuck,” Joel groans, his expression nearly pained as he takes in the enraptured silence of you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t stop thinkin’ about how your mama must’ve felt before she pushed you out. This is the closest I’ll ever get to feelin’ that for myself.”

A whine escapes you as you wrap your arms under the backs of your knees, deliberately spreading yourself as wide as you can for him with blatant intentions. Let him feel it for himself. You’re so hungry for him, you feel fit to burst over it. You’ll be the newer model of her. You’ll be a tight, young hole for him. You’ll give him what she hasn’t been giving him, what you haven’t overheard in weeks from their bedroom.

“Fuck yeah, sweet girl,” Joel moans, positioning his cock at your waiting entrance. “Show me how your mama felt twenty years ago.”

You’re certain your own fall from grace should not feel so heavenly. But the first shove of Joel’s cock inside you toes a line dangerously close to a reckoning. The stretch of your walls around him, the death grip you have on your assured destruction, the fullness he’s wrought upon you nothing short of gluttonous satisfaction.

“Daddy, that’s so good,” you sigh into his ear, and it earns you a rumbling grunt as he bottoms out.

“Jesus, baby,” he moans, burying his face into your neck. “She teach you how to keep it this tight for me?”

She.

He sinks inside you, makes room inside his wife’s daughter for himself, and how thoughtlessly her identity is reduced to…she.

Your breath hitches as Joel pulls out to the head and he slams the full length of him into you, your ankles locking at the small of his back, your wrists around his neck.

You’ve heard Joel’s sex noises countless times before across the hall, muffled by closed doors. He’s an entirely different animal when you’re mainlining his sounds, his words directly into your ear. The scratch of thirty years of cigarettes in his moans, the chant of the devil in his terms of endearment, the authoritative intonation of a guardian.

He beats inside you like a drum, a deafening reverberation, punching air out of your lungs with every punitive thrust. His balls slap against the split of your ass like the muted clap of hi-hat cymbals, keeping tempo for you as your mind drifts away.

Flashes of reality wade through your hedonistic bliss, like they’re desperate to haul you to shore, save you from this entirely avoidable fate, resuscitate your suffocated sanity. Your brain beseeches you to notice your glaringly exposed circumstances. Your bedroom door as ajar as your mouth moaning for him, your window curtains spread wide as your legs, your ceiling light as illuminated as your soul emitting the final streaks of vibrancy before the sun sets at dusk.

You’re recklessly laid bare for Joel and the world around you. A single rogue pair of eyes could end that world as you know it. Your mother could walk through the front door, down the hall at any moment. Even still, your heels dig into his flesh to hold him inside you, your skin yearns for the drag of his hair-spattered potbelly against your soft stomach.

You long to be full of more than just his cock.

Through hiccuping breaths you say, “Come inside me.”

Joel lets out a conflicted keen as the pendulum of his hips swing. “I can’t, baby. We can’t.”

Your fingers tug at his hair as you whine like a child in protest. “I’m on birth control. I promise.”

Joel’s breath grows labored as his orgasm looms over him, a strain in his voice as he wrestles with your pleading request.

“Fuck,” he yells out, his hips stilling inside you as you moan on his cock, high on the prospect of his spend painting your insides with sin.

But you don’t feel him throbbing, pulsing within your walls. He’s not winded and gasping from a climax wrung from your clutch.

“Daddy…?”

“I can’t, baby.”

“Please. I need it inside me.”

Joel groans, but his cock drags free of your pussy, leaving you empty and fundamentally altered. Joel’s hand brushes across your forehead, a boundless devotion in his eyes. “How about I shoot my load inside your mouth, huh? So you can have part of me in your belly. You wanna suck your sloppy cunt off daddy’s cock?”

A broken moan slips out of you as you stare down the layers of what seems a lot like love in his gaze. Maybe more than one kind of love. Something more akin to a convoluted amalgamation of parental, platonic, sexual, worshipful love and affection.

A warm hand cups your cheek and you nod in compliance to his suggestion. Joel’s lips press a kiss against your forehead, leaving a burn in its wake. He takes your hand and leads you off the bed with him. He doesn’t have to ask, you just drop to your knees in a showing of submission.

“You felt how big daddy is. Think you can fit him?”

“I can,” you state assuredly. You take initiative, gripping the base of him and gliding up and down your stepfather’s cock with your own slick.

“You sure? She’s able to take all of it, but it’s a struggle. So be real positive.”

“I can do it,” you say confidently, poising his tip at your mouth.

“Go ahead and show me, then.”

You take him into your mouth and you half expect him to dissolve on your tongue. A Eucharist to tide you over until he spills his wine, heady and white across your supplicant taste buds.

But he’s solid, hefty as he slides deeper, a presence unignorable.

“That’s it, sweet girl. All the way back,” he coaxes, and a whimper seeps out from you around his girth. His hand strokes over your hair in blessing as he knocks at the back of your throat, your face screwing up as your reflexes activate. You stave off the worst of them, eyes watery as they gaze up at him. “Still got more to go.”

You nod as gently as you can, feeling the strain in your jaw.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck your face. Loosen you up a bit, okay?”

A greedy noise of approval from you and Joel’s fingers are entwining in your hair, gripping hard enough to pleasantly sting. Your mouth is wet and drooling when Joel pulls your head off of him, until just the tip weighs down your tongue.

“She digs her fingernails into her palm to make it easier. Don’t know if that helps.”

You whimper and glance down at your hand. You’ve already got half-moon crescents piercing the heel of it. Timidly, you open it up to reveal it to him.

A throaty growl fills your ears as he tightens his hold on your hair. “Like mother, like daughter, I guess.”

Like mother, like daughter.

There’s a loud grunt and Joel is fucking into your mouth with little mercy. Your dry lips crack to accommodate the size of him, your cheeks concaving to maximize his sensation, and the back of your throat taking a beating as his head punches the tender flesh with impeccable rhythm.

As your one hand threatens to prick blood under the pressure of your nails, the other seeks to draw it from Joel’s hip. You’re not trying to stop him, or even harm him, but you need him to feel what he’s doing to you. How certifiably insane he has you, a puppet with holes for him to fill and control. You’re a living, breathing creature, but he fucks your mouth like you have no need to breathe at all.

You’d inhale through your nose, but it’s clogged with snot and running in rivulets down to your lips, servicing him with further lubrication for your debasement. The salty wet cascading down your cheeks blurs your vision as you force yourself to maintain precious eye contact with him.

There’s a divine burst of air in your lungs as your head is wrenched from Joel’s cock, and you cough and sputter, willing yourself to suck in the sex-tainted oxygen around you.

Joel’s hand cups your jaw, smearing the mixture of snot, saliva, and tears on your skin. “You’re gonna take me deeper this time. All the fuckin’ way back. Wanna feel your goddamn nose smashed against my belly button.”

You sniffle your congested nostrils, but nod. You’re not sure why you say it, but you whisper, your voice distorted by stuffiness, “Fix me.”

A pitying noise falls from his throat as he slides his thumb into your mouth for you to suck in pacification. “Ain’t nothin’ need fixin’. You just needed a better daddy. ‘N that’s what I’m here for.”

A muted sob puffs around his finger, and you think you might see glistening in Joel’s eyes for a passing second. But he clears his throat and it’s gone, his hand around the base of his cock again and his thumb prying open your mouth.

When the head of him pushes past the block of your throat, Joel’s grunt could probably be heard by the neighbors. Nevermind that where you now stand is in perfect frame of your first floor window, a glowing halo at the side of your house. The alarm on your bedside table blinks 12:35 AM, so the Christensens are likely fast asleep. But although you may have a fence, Douglas and Cheryl have a second floor, where their bedroom window could peer right into yours.

And yet you stay on your knees, unhinging your jaw for the eight, maybe nine, inches of cock your stepfather is feeding down your throat while your mother is absent, getting reamed by her boss or coworker or friend's friend ten miles away. You’re sure the view is remarkable. A perfect, vignetted cameo portrait of familial implosion.

Your mother most certainly did not raise a quitter, that much is evident when the last inch of Joel’s length is seated in your mouth and your nose contorts at the prominent curve of his stomach, just like he wished. Joel’s arms are secured around your head, holding you to his gut in a manner that might be endearing and benign if you weren’t simultaneously choking around his entire cock.

Instead he’s cutting off your air supply and using his unyielding embrace to rutt into your throat in short bursts as you fight not to eject him.

The mess when you resurface is notable. If you were still trapped in that dress, the front of it would be sodden, soaked through with spit. You’re not sure there’s a spot on your face that isn’t coated in some form of your own fluids — the slobber from your mouth smearing over Joel’s hairy abdomen and transferring to your forehead and temples, and even more rivers of saliva dripping onto the carpet.

You feel debauched and torn apart, and you still croak, “Again.”

Nails in your palms do nothing for you now. You've already crucified yourself.

Once he’s buried deep again, he secures the back of your head with a single arm, and then you feel the breadth of his other hand around your throat.

“God fuckin’ dammit,” Joel groans out, nearly as wrecked as you’ve been all evening. “Can feel my cock in there.”

Joel’s hips move in staccato jabs, just to feel the glide of his fat head demolishing your throat through the skin of your neck pressed against his hand. If you hadn’t tapped rapidly at his hip, gasping for air, you fear he may have been content to die there.

You collapse onto your hands and knees, rasping and pulling air into your deprived lungs, cheek colliding with the dampened carpet as you catch your breath.

“What a fuckin’ trooper. You are a one-of-a-kind wonder, sweet girl,” Joel pants out, hands on his knees and his cock angry and purpling as it bobs and jerks in denial of its orgasm.

Through your slouching to find your breath, you smile.

“Let’s give you a little break, huh? Come and give daddy’s balls a little kiss.”

He clasps a hand on your bicep, helping you back up onto your knees as you regain composure. You’re a bit wobbly, but you ground yourself with hands on his thighs, resting your forehead just to the side of the root of him. Your tongue lolls out and swipes up his sack in a languid stroke.

Joel hums his approval above you, his hand reclaiming its place on the back of your head lightly. With his guidance you dip down, slipping one of his balls into your mouth as he moans out praises.

His balls are large and lush with hair, on par with the rest of him. They hang low, dangling inches down into the space between his thighs. You cradle them in your hand as you caress them with your tongue, sinuses slowly draining as his concentrated musk penetrates your nostrils, filling your olfactory senses with him. You pop one of his balls out of your mouth to pamper the other in equal measure.

Joel begins to pull at his cock with long, tempered strokes. “Fuck, that’s right sweet girl. Treat ‘em real gentle. Might have a little brother or sister in there.”

You whine as you widen your mouth, succeeding in fitting the pair of them inside thanks to your sufficiently stretched jaw, properly warmed up from his dick.

“Shit,” Joel says, the faintest hint of laughter in his voice as he gasps, branding at the waist slightly at the overwhelm of your hot mouth encasing him. “‘F that greedy pussy ever clamps around me again like this filthy mouth is…might even be a son or daughter in there too.”

You moan a little too passionately at that, your mouth packed full of possibilities, and Joel’s hips jolt forward at the sensation, a pleasurable noise of his own spilling out.

“Jesus, can’t moan when I say shit like that. You’re gonna make me…” Joel groans again flexing around his cock. “Gonna have to hit it from the back next time. ‘Lot easier to not just blow my load up that cunt when I don’t got you lookin’ up at me with them puppy dog eyes, beggin’ your daddy to come inside you.”

Next time.

How do you feel about a next time?

You don’t even know what’s going to greet you come daylight.

Joel’s fingers yank on your hair as your mouth works dutifully on his balls, finally saying, “Fuck, daddy needs to come, sweet girl.”

He slips from your mouth, but it opens again for him instantly as he starts to jack himself in earnest. He lays the trickling head on your tongue as he grunts and gasps, and you raise a hand to tease at his balls, squeezing them tenderly as you see his eyes roll in response.

“Fuck, fuck, open up for me, little mama,” he groans, signaling the first thick burst of spend shooting to the back of your raw throat. Joel growls his way through his climax, rope after never-ending rope of come pooling on your tongue until it overflows the corners of your lips and down your chin and neck.

Joel swears as his pulses slow to a stop, taking the tip of his cock and dragging it over the puddle of him on your tongue, spilling more from your mouth and down your tits. “Good girl,” he pants, finally withdrawing his dick. “Swallow for daddy.”

You obey eagerly, pushing all he gave you to the back of your throat to join where the rest of him had already been. You present your clean tongue, preening slightly, and Joel returns a sleepy, immensely proud grin.

There’s a scraping at the front door, and you both dart your heads to the open doorway.

“Shit!” Joel bites out panicked under his breath, shattering what you both have built as he bolts out the door, pulling yours shut as well as his own in his marathon back to the bedroom he shares with your mother.

You hear the front door open and you’re snapped out of your daydream of a night, lunging for your light switch to kill any suspicions of you being conscious. You flatten your hands against the back of your door, pressing an ear to the wood as you stifle your breathing.

You hear the noise on the television cut to silence, then footsteps. The door across the hall squeaks open and…nothing, save for the faint sound of fabricated snoring. You hear your mother sigh, the two thumps of her heels kicking off, and then, “Might as well be right where I left you.”

A stretch of silence, then you hear the low hum of her voice in a string of words that sounds like, “‘F I could, I’d probably just leave you altogether.”

You hear her feet padding down the hall, then the snick of the fridge in the kitchen.

As quiet as you possibly can, you twist the handle of your door and peek through a small gap. Joel lays naked on his stomach on top of their sheets, back rising and falling with his breath, facing you as his head dents his pillow on the bedside closest to the door.

The protector’s side.

And as silent as you tried to be, you see Joel’s eyes squint open directly at you as your door opens. You stare each other down, and you feel your heart begin to pound.

When your lip starts trembling, you close the door.

It’s not until you’re nestled under your covers that you realized what he had called you when he’d come across your tongue.

—

The morning comes uneventful, despite your entire world shifting on its axis. A normal Saturday. You exit your room just as your mother is tidying the kitchen table of breakfast and Joel is starting up the shower in their bedroom.

“Mornin’, blossom. You want some eggs?”

She seems as chipper as ever, scraping off plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

“Uh, no. Thanks,” you dismiss, heading straight for the couch and curling up as you grab the remote.

She joins you shortly after, folding her legs up under her in a frightening mirror of your own.

“I’m sorry about that boy, sweet pea.”

“Hmm?” You ask, looking away from the TV to observe her.

“J told me about what happened with the boy. He’s definitely a dummy.”

“Oh,” you say once you realize what she’s talking about. Truth be told, you haven’t spared that boy a second thought since Joel wrapped his arm around you last night. “It’s whatever. Boys come and go, right?”

“Some of ‘em stay,” she says, glancing down the hall to the sounds of the shower.

You follow her gaze, undoubtedly battling the dissonance in her head of what she’d done last night, and who was waiting for her back at home.

Only she doesn’t know that he wasn’t up pacing over her. He wasn’t waiting for her at all. And it might just be in your own head, but you hope he was maybe the slightest bit…disappointed at the sound of the front door.

You probably shouldn’t be thinking that.

You see the confliction swimming in her eyes, and you place a hand over hers.

“But some of them aren’t going to stay forever if you’re giving them a good reason to leave, mom.”

Her eyes meet yours, tears brimming and threatening to break. “How do you…?”

“You could see it from space, mom. And he can too.”

She brings a knuckle to her waterline, dabbing at the tears before they can fall and muddy her mascara. She sniffles and shrugs with a raised hand, letting it fall back down in a helpless gesture.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’, sweet pea,” she says, letting out a small, pitiful sob. You clasp your hand over hers and squeeze, feeling your own eyes begin to prick at seeing your mother choked up. “You ever…like you get so comfortable, things are goin’ so good, that you start to get anxious? And before you know it…you’re…you’re sabotagin’ yourself. Throwin’ stones, tearin’ down everythin’ that ever brought you a lick’a happiness. Like…like you need to destroy it before it destroys you?”

A lump forms in your throat as she speaks, and you clench your hand a little harder than you intend to. It hits you pretty hard, the reality of it all. Joel is in the shower, washing your dried spit and slick from his cock. Maybe even with your mother’s soap. Wiping away what didn’t already rub off on their shared sheets.

“Yeah, mom,” you say, your throat scratchy from more than just the emotional influx. “I know exactly what you mean.”

The memories come back in succession. Joel’s hand on your bare thigh. Your dress dropping to the floor. Coming on his mouth, his fingers. His cock pushing inside for the first time. His hand feeling his length down your throat. His spend dribbling from your lips.

You deserve a man.

Good girl.

Swallow for daddy.

Why did you do it? That safety, that security Joel has been for you since you were a teenager. The reliable presence, always sitting in that chair three feet to your right. Sipping his beer, spilling on the remote, losing potato chips in the couch cushions.

It’s all twisted up now with memories of his naked body, his satanic tongue and devilish grin, the stretch of his cock that you’ve now felt inside you — still feel inside you, if you’re honest. The soreness persists in the entrance of your pussy, the wall of your cervix, the column of your throat. Evidence of your betrayal to the one who gave you life.

She granted you breath, and you used it to moan “daddy” beneath her husband. Allowed him to take that breath from you as you gagged on the very flesh that makes your mother gasp his name in the sanctity of their marriage bed.

Maybe your mother desecrated it first, but he and you…he and you incinerated it. Rolled around and fucked in the ashes.

She may have gathered her train, lifted her dress for someone else. But the veil hasn’t been removed yet. And you’re nowhere near ready to admit to her that she no longer has somewhere to sleep. She can remain blind for now.

A tear finally drips free down your cheek.

“Yeah, mama. You…you have no idea. How well I know.”

A watery smile crosses her face and she leans toward you, cupping your face in her hands. “We’re gonna be okay, blossom. We get through shit, don’t we? Can’t take us down.”

You nod in her hands, the lump in your throat closer to a golf ball now. “Yeah, mama.”

She strokes the plush of your cheek, wiping at your lone tear track. Then something captures her interest, and she draws back, tilting her head.

“You let him do that to you before he dumped you?”

You furrow your brows, unable to follow her line of sight where it lands at your neck. “Let him do what?”

“Got a hickey the size of Texas there, sweet pea,” your mother giggles, brushing her thumb over your throat.

Your stomach lurches, your eyes masking panic. You’d flown too close to the sun. Reckless, stupid, irresponsible. Let him defile your skin with nicotine-yellowed teeth and a thick, adulatory tongue.

It’s written on your face, on your neck, plain as day. How does she not know? How does she not see?

Because her only daughter, a child sprung from her womb when she was just a mere child herself, would never do that to her. An act so treasonous is unthinkable. Laughable. Not worth a fleeting thought.

To her.

To you…that very thought has been brewing since you were fourteen, alone in your room, the pads of your fingers pruned and your mutinous mind alive.

What if it wasn’t her? What if it was me? What would he say to me?

You deserve a man. Good girl. Swallow for daddy.

Your mother just smiles, oblivious to the context of her observation and the wretchedness within you.

“It’s okay! Nothin’ a little makeup can’t cover, huh?”

Your palms sweat as you nod.

“Come on,” she says, gripping your hand in hers as she stands, guiding you along with her. “I’ll help you. It’ll be like old times when I used to give you makeovers.”

You are hyper-aware of the slickness of your hand in hers.

She has to know, she has to know, she has to know.

But she doesn’t.

Words jam in your ravaged throat, no longer loosened by your stepfather’s brutal misconduct, as you silently follow after her into her room. She ushers you on the bed as she gathers her makeup from her vanity.

She sits beside you, smiling as she begins to tap concealer onto the bruise. “Cover it up, and it’s as good as gone. Never gotta see the boy who gave it to you again.”

You nod again lightly, your eyes falling closed as she pats at your skin. The shower turns off in the bathroom, and the sickness in your stomach roils again.

He’s washed you off now, smelling of her eucalyptus shower steamers. He bears no marks. He shares no burden. Honor by marriage is not honor by blood.

Hence why your mother’s affair can blow over. It can be fixed. Swept under the rug, forgiven in confessionals and late-night whispers during love-making.

But betrayal like this? Of daughter to mother at the hands of a father and husband? That’s Armageddon. And you didn’t pay much attention in church growing up, but you listened enough to know…the apostates are destined to lose.

Rummaging noises bleed from the bathroom, and your mother glances toward the door.

“Joel Miller, you stay in that bathroom for a minute. We’re havin’ a mother-daughter bondin’ moment in here,” she calls out to him with a broad grin, loud enough for him to hear it through the closed door.

Bonding. Oh, yes, you’re very bonded now.

“Should just attach you two at the hip while we’re at it,” he calls back. “You share damn near everythin’ with each other.”

You can't decide if he said that on purpose. If he’s twisted enough to joke about your circumstances to your mother’s naïve listening ear, or if he really is just a dense-headed dumbass, ignorant of the magnitude of his words and actions.

Regardless of how he meant it, the blush pink gossamer blur smoothing over the events from last night is beginning to slip away, the images sharpening each passing moment that you spend with your mother. What your mind was attempting to bang down your door over, grabbing hold of your thoughts to try and thrust you into reality, is finally coming into focus.

You can’t come back from this.

And what was it all for?

The sun shines through the open drapes of the window onto your mother’s back as she smiles and shakes her head at Joel’s comment, the shade cast over you shifting gently with her movement. She rolls her eyes in good-natured jest as she unknowingly conceals the mark of the devil on your neck.

Both her devil and your own.

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

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#stepfather!joel miller #stepdad!joel miller #joel miller x reader #stepdad!joel #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic

[chuluoyi]

first ultrasound with gojo (love entries) headcanons?❤️

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:55 P.M 」

*sigh* why am i so weak to domestic requests... this is just a little thing i wrote in one sitting while stalling my nanami fic (and after coming back from the company retreat!) sobs, i'm going back to it i promise!! :')) this loosely takes place after daddy-to-be <3

a part of gojo's love entries

“now let us see…”

you were lying on the examination table as the ultrasound gel made contact with your still flat abdomen. the sheer coldness and the way the probe pressed hard on your skin made you wince a bit, until that discomfort was eased by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn your head towards the source.

your husband, gojo satoru, offered you a smile so warm it made everything else fade into the background. beyond his sunglasses was the way he always fondly looked at you, as if he was silently assuring you that he would be by your side every step of this journey.

you couldn't help but smile back at him.

“ah, here’s the baby,” your doctor gestured at the monochrome screen with a grin. “around five weeks now. it’s the size of a seed.”

a seed? your gaze fixed on the screen with a sense of wonder. honestly you couldn’t really pinpoint where your baby was, until you saw one dot that the doctor zoomed in.

and there it was—the tiny beginning of life. the product of you and your husband’s love, growing steadily inside you.

suddenly it felt so real that you were carrying a new life. your heart overflowed with warmth, swelling with emotion, and you struggled to hold back tears as your gaze shifted between the screen and satoru, who offered you a comforting pat on the head.

“hush,” he whispered softly, seemingly moved too after looking at the living testament of his baby on the screen. “don’t cry now, hmm?”

after seeing the sonogram and had it printed, both of you sat before the doctor as she instructed you to take things easy from now on, and through it all, satoru held your hand firmly in his, attentively listening to everything the doctor mentioned and even proactively asking questions in return.

“doc, she gets dizzy and nauseous easily, can you prescribe her something to make it bearable?”

“i can certainly prescribe some anti-sickness medication, but i highly recommend you to have plenty of rests and eat healthy food too to reduce morning sickness—”

“hmm, and can you recommend anything to improve sleep? she can have trouble sleeping too…”

honestly it touched you to see satoru picked up on these little things about you despite being away so often. only now did you realize that he had always been watching over you, without fail.

back at home, he sat you down on your bed, back to being a carefree clown who would draw laughs out of you.

“now, little mom,” he began, his lips already turning up into a grin as he took your hands in his, kneeling before you. “you need to listen to me very closely, okay?”

you snorted. “don't address me like that!”

“uh-oh, no squirming,” satoru warned playfully, pinching your cheeks, and you swatted his hand, holding back giggles.

oh my. just what a blissfully happy couple you were.

“first thing first, now you are to have lots of breaks and rest,” he declared, amusement melted a bit from his tone. “the doctor said so. it'll help with your nausea too. if you feel the slightest bit unwell, you have to go back and rest.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah...”

“and no staying up late too,” he added, fixing his clear eyes on yours. “especially not for waiting for me to be home.”

that got you to clamp up. so he noticed it too, the way you would always wait for him, even at the cost of not sleeping at all. satoru never really said anything all this time, but now you knew, he was indeed worried.

once again, your chest burst with love and warmth. but still...

“can you promise me that?” satoru asked you gently, his smile still in place, but you knew the underlying command behind those words. “i'm coming back. always. i have everything i want here, with you. there's no way i'm not coming back.”

you hung onto his every word, and much like spellbound, you let go of everything and nodded.

“and now baby...”

he then shifted his focus to your tummy, gently brushing his fingers across it, and the gesture stirred something inside you, making you throb with emotion.

“you only have one job. grow big and healthy, and you can even bother mama sometimes! just don't make her too sick or i'll worry...”

somehow your vision blurred with tears, hearing how unusually earnest he was. “satoru, you're so silly.”

but as always, he would pick this moment to flip the switch, reverting back to his usual teasing.

“hmm, what's that? you're getting soft now, aren't you, mommy~?”

“...why do you have to sound like that? you're making it lewd on purpose!”

in this little world of love of yours, it was just you and him, along with the tales of your life together. you had weathered various moments side by side, and now, as you were embarking on another significant chapter with him, you were certain that everything would be alright.

satoru pulled you to the bed and smothered your head with kisses, trapping you between his strong arms. “hmm, comfy now?”

“mmm, yeah. keep cuddling me...”

and from his side, he was sure, that right now, everything had never been and felt so right than ever before—with the love of his life and future in his arms.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader fluff

[ssahotchnerr]

fluffy aaron request !! reader is on a date that is going so bad when she gets called in for a case so she shows up in her like fancy date outfit and confides in hotch about her horrible date then he offers to make it up to her and takes her out when they get back <3 maybe there’s some room for slight jealous!aaron in there somewhere tehe

it's a date

there's always room for jealous!aaron 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, mutual pining, a touch of nervous and jealous!aaron, brief standard cm case info, fluff <3

You were the last one to arrive at the BAU, departing from the far side of town and evening traffic to blame.

Consequently, you pulled stares the second you arrived within the roundtable room. Your presence was anticipated, for one, the sound of your heels clacking against the hard floor, and:

A low whistle exited Morgan.

"Look at you." He tossed out, a tickled grin spread wide across his face.

Your current attire was a dress; a fancier, slightly more risqué choice compared to your typical office wardrobe. It was a light beige, your hair was down your back in loose curls, makeup more enhanced than your usual routine. Aaron had to (internally) admit, you looked stunning.

"Hot date?"

"You could say that."

Aaron felt his jaw move. Clench, actually.

"Sorry for cutting your night short." He apologized, forcing his sentence out deep from inside his chest. He turned towards the screen, concealing himself.

"On the contrary," You eased yourself into your chair, eagerly accepting a file from Emily. "Thank you for cutting my night short."

"With this one, you may want to rethink that sunshine." Penelope clicked her remote, illuminating the screen with the latest case photos. "Ain't no rest for the wicked."

The team collectively ran through it quickly; a brutal family annihilator, decreasing cooling off period, the gravity of the situation heightening and a panicked town. Wheels up in 30 to Oklahoma.

As the others trailed out, Penelope hurrying to her bat cave, Aaron slowed his pace. He prolonged securing his files into his briefcase, zipping it shut, leaving only the two of you in the room.

Coincidentally, you weren't in too much of a rush either.

"That bad?"

You huffed in response as your eyes found his. He was met with a hardened, utter annoyance, instead of your familiar warm liveliness.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's not much to talk about." The bottom of your files hit the surface of the table, loudly, stacking the few evenly together. "The guy sucked. Interrupted me every second he could. I don't think the restaurant he picked was up to code either. Thank goodness I got the call before our food arrived." You shuddered lightly, in theatrics but also genuineness. "I'm greatly looking forward to pretending it never happened."

There was a carefree airiness within your voice - attempting to wave it off, the simple acceptance of one night gone bad - but small dismay was amongst your words.

"I'm sorry." While Aaron meant his apology wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but feel relieved, for his own selfish reasons. "But I am glad you narrowly escaped the potential food poisoning."

That pulled a laugh from you, agreeing. "But it's fine, really. I didn't want to go anyways, don't know why I did." You shrugged as you disrupted the continual, shared eye contact. While the tail end of your sentence was spoken lowly, it wasn't long lasting, picking up some enthusiasm. "How was your night going?"

"Jack and I were just settling down to watch a movie."

"Which one?"

"Shrek."

Your head tilted exasperatedly, face pulling into jealousy. "Really? How fun." You whined gently, wishing your night could have been spent with the two of them. Your preferred choice of company.

"Well, he wasn't too happy it was cut short." Aaron admitted, a loose, downhearted chuckle escaping.

"You'll make it up to him. Perhaps a multiple movie feature when we're back? Shrek, Shrek 2, Shrek the Third... maybe order some pizza too." You suggested, reaching out to touch his arm reassuringly with a gentle smile. "No matter, he'll be thrilled."

Sourcing from your touch, lightning bolts dashed within his arm, feverishly. Aaron soon found himself simply studying your face, falling on the silent side. You were just, you. Extraordinarily kind, beautiful you.

"C'mon, Dave told me if I was late to the tarmac once more, he'd tell the pilot to leave and I'd have to take a commercial." You joked. Although, a small part of you feared he'd stick to his promise.

"Yeah, like I'd let that happen." He rolled his eyes, amusedly shaking his head.

The bullpen was quiet; most had gone home, the overheard lights had dimmed, the team long out of earshot. As the two of you neared the glass doors - Aaron leading - there was an urgency heightening in his chest, mere seconds away from bursting. As if each step forward, he was losing precious time. Any hesitations on the temptations he had felt for months dissolved. Now or never.

"What about you?" He asked, sweetly but timidly, finding a sudden interest in the floor.

"What about me?"

"Who's going to make it up to you?"

"Well," That caught you in a bit of surprise, your feet halting. Aaron turned, his eyes lifting. "That's a million dollar question right there. I don't see anyone lining up to take me on some extravagant outing, do you?" You forced out a laugh, your cheeks fairly blushing.

"Maybe," Aaron replied, his voice wavering with a touch of nervousness. It was rather endearing, seeing him so adorably flustered. "Perhaps the person you're looking for is right in front of you. Figuratively, at that."

A rather charmed expression formed on your face. Eyes brightening, lips pursing upwards, "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm trying." He confessed, his boyish expression just as light as yours. "So, tell me. How am I doing?"

"How about this," You spoke slowly, attempting to suppress the butterflies in your own stomach, hoping to maintain some composure within your answer. "Your next available night after your movie marathon with Jack, I'm completely and all yours."

All yours. He could get used to that.

"It's a date."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

[verstappen-cult]

I don’t know why I went full angst on this but maybe one of them totally blanks on your birthday plans so you’re just sitting at a fancy restaurant with the other one wondering where he is

I can see this where Max forgot and you and Charles finally decide to order food and when you get home he was steaming and didn’t realize what was going on

PART TWO.

You look to the front door just to see another random person walking in. Across the table, Charles tries to hold his anger inside, he tries very hard not to show how affected he also is.

“Maybe something came up.” Your boyfriend tries to smile and reassure you that everything is fine, that Max has a good excuse for not showing up.

He better have a god excuse or Charles is gonna make him sleep on the couch for the next month.

“Should we order? I’m pretty sure Max will want for us to celebrate. It’s your birthday, princess.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.

It’s not the ideal celebration. Not when one of your boyfriends is not there with you and doesn’t pick up the phone. But Charles does a pretty good job of making you forget about it.

At least until dessert cames and they sing happy birthday to you.

*

“We have plenty of leftovers,” You go to the kitchen as Charles closes the front door. “You want a cup of tea, Char?”

“Don’t be a cunt! I was winning!”

You and Charles look at each other.

“Wha–”

But Charles is already sprinting up the stairs.

You follow him, heart rate through the roof, into Max’s streaming room.

And there he is. Max. Wearing sweatpants and streaming. You look at the screen that says how long he’s been there: four hours. Then, you see his phone on the floor, right next to a couple of Red Bulls.

“What the fuck, Max?!” Charles exclaims, making his boyfriend jump scared.

“Jesus Christ,” He touches his chest, just where his heart is. “Everyone’s laughing, by the way.” Max points to his headphones and then the screen where his friends, in fact, are laughing.

But you couldn’t care less about it.

“Max.” You say softly, grabbing Charles’ hand and caressing his wrist to try and calm him.

“What the actual fuck, mate.”

Charles never calls him mate.

“What?” He looks at Charles, then at you. “You look pretty good. Where did you go?” Max asks, already turning around to keep playing.

But Charles is having none of it. He walks to one side of the room, where everything is connected, and shuts everything off.

“Charles!”

Max is off his chair in a matter of seconds, looking absolutely pissed.

“Oh, you don’t get to be angry.” Charles takes two long strides, but you stand between them before he does something he will regret later. “We waited three hours! It was her birthday, you giant, fucking idiot.”

Charles throws his arms in the air before getting out of the room, leaving a speechless Max behind.

“What?”

You breathe deeply, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t even remember my birthday?”

“Of course I remember your birthday, Schatje.” He picks up his phone, seeing all the missed calls and texts. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with tears.

You can’t see properly anymore. “I think is better if you sleep in the guest room tonight, Max.”

You leave before he has time to say anything, running down the hallway and into your room. It’s only then that you let the tears flow freely down your face.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen angst #charles leclerc angst #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc imagine #poly!f1 #lestappen x you

[ghostfacd]

I’M A JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS, BOY. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. after gaining massive popularity, you star another show where you have to kiss your co star, which tom isn’t exactly happy about

AUTHOR NOTE. Two posts in one day? Who am I??anyway! This was self indulging because I love Steven Conklin and nobody writes for him 😔 As always, reblogs and comments make me more motivated to continue this series :)

installment of this au | the reader plays fictional character “ella fisher” in tsitp!

Tom wasn’t a jealous guy, at least, he didn’t think so. He was very secure in your relationship, always making sure he didn’t let his emotions get the best of him.

Like when you told him you had gotten the role of Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher’s sister in The Summer I Turned Pretty, and how you were Steven Conklin’s love interest, he congratulated you with a big hug.

He knew who was playing Steven—Sean Kaufman. There was no doubt that Steven was a very charming guy.

“You’re here!” You say giddily, engulfing your boyfriend in a hug when he approached you. “Daisy was just patching up the last of my concealer. Did you get any food?”

Daisy was your makeup artist—and one of the sweetest girls you’ve ever met in your life. She knew the cast pretty well, so when you first got here, she helped break the ice between you and them.

“You know I did,” Tom says, placing the paper bag down on your table. He opened it up, retrieving an iced matcha latte and a poke bowl. You squealed in delight, excited to eat after filming for so long.

“So how was your day?” You say, cheekily grinning at him as you ate your bowl.

“Tiring? I did a photo shoot, it was fun. Then I went home and took a nap, and then I drove to buy you food.”

“Well thank you babe,” you say. “Today was such an exhausting day, so much retakes cause of all the sand. But God do I love this show to death. It’s so much all at once but in a good way, you know?”

“Well I’m just excited to see my girl on the big screen,” Tom smiles, leaning in to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“YN! Time to film again!” The voice of your director calls out, making you shove your bowl into Tom’s hands and rushing over to the cameramen.

Tom carefully places your bowl down, walking over quietly behind the cameras to watch your scene up close.

He watches as you talk to Lola, who plays Belly, about your plans after high school, and how you wanted to apply for Princeton just like Steven. She rolls her eyes, saying how she doesn’t get how you and Steven get along so well.

Later in the scene, you and Sean sit close together in front of a campfire. Tom remembers vividly of you telling him there was a scene between your character and Steven where the two of you would get extremely close. Tom feels his breath hitch when he sees Sean make you laugh. He knows that it’s just acting—that your character and Sean’s character are love interests in the show, and that it means nothing in real life.

But he just feels so weird. His stomach is in knots, and it feels like his mouth is dry.

“You know,” Sean begins, leaning in close to your face. “I know Belly doesn’t want me liking any of her friends, and your brothers would totally kill me if they knew; but you’re making it so hard.”

“Really Steven?” You fake giggle, leaning closer to his touch. “Well they don’t have to know.”

Sean laughs at your comment, his head falling against your shoulder, something that Tom had always done with you.

And then he sees the director cue the cameramen to zoom in, and then there it is. — You and Sean kiss, and Tom feels his feet move away from the scene without even realizing.

“And… cut!” The director says, clapping. “Good job Sean and Y/N! You really captured the tension between Steven and Ella. That’s a wrap!”

You hug Sean afterwards, the two of you laughing about how stupid the kiss must’ve looked but you knew the viewers would eat it up once the episodes aired.

“Where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Gavin asks, suddenly showing up behind you and Sean.

“Gavin!” You say, putting your hand to your chest. “Way to scare a girl to death!”

Gavin laughs, poking at your sides teasingly. “Just kidding, I know where he is. Stormed off where Lola and Christopher are standing.”

“Storm off?” You say, confused.

“Seems like lover boy wasn’t too keen on you kissing our Sean over here.”

You quickly make your way towards where Lola and Christopher were standing, and just like Gavin had said, Tom was standing behind them. He didn’t look too happy.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, pulling the boy away for some privacy.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh c’mon,” you scoff. “It can’t be nothing. Gavin said you stormed off earlier.”

Tom sighs, clearly wanting to drop the topic. But one look into your genuine concerned eyes makes him crack.

“I was jealous.” He admits, biting his lip back in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

You bite back a smile, arms linking with his. “Awe babe, it’s okay. Just acting. Just like how you kissed Rachel in the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighs, bringing your body close to his. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have felt that way.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling brightly. “Feeling jealous is bound to happen with our job, as long as we communicate about it, everything will be fine.” You hug his side, snuggling your face into his coat. “Plus, you know Sean has a girlfriend, right?”

“What?” Tom seems baffled, but he quickly covers it up. “No, yeah, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” you tease, “don’t worry Tom, I love you the most.”

He leans down, making eye contact with you. “Well I sure hope so, because I love you the most as well.”

And everything was perfect until Gavin lets out a fake barf, telling the two of you to “get a room”.

“Oh get out of here Gav!” You say, shooing him away.

“Yeah Gavin, let the couple have their moment!”

That makes everyone laugh, and you swore you never felt happier than you did right now.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #tbosas #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[iplantables]

Ditch The Paper Drawings: Here’s Why You Should Use a Digital Plan Table

Transition from paper to a Digital Plan Table for reviewing construction drawings. This technological shift enhances efficiency, accuracy, and ease of use, while eliminating challenges posed by traditional paper drawings and reducing storage needs. Leverage a Digital Plan Table to modernize your construction review process.

#digital plan table #digital planning #touch tables #touch screen plan tables #plan review tables #touch screen monitor