#Krilverlaw

[zappedbyzabka]

Have you talked about Kreese inviting Silver to visit Cobra Kai before the events in TTK? Silver getting to meet a freshly 18 Johnny would be fun?

I think I have, but I sure will again.

It’s very unlikely that they wouldn’t have met before CK when Kreese was gushing to Silver about him. I usually picture him just dragging Johnny along to Silver’s place and introducing them privately, but I could totally see Kreese inviting him to the dojo so he could show Johnny off.

Johnny ends up on a much different path. Silver stops Kreese from choking him, secretly worried that his captain would accidentally break that pretty neck.

He understands Kreese’ liking to see the boy covered in blood or crying; he looks extra pretty when doing so, and Silver has pushed him to his very limits before and came out of it even prouder of Johnny—but death is a little too harsh a punishment for a single loss.

He and John have always kept each other in line—and the opposite.

Johnny seemed ashamed of himself, even under all that defensiveness; clutching his second place trophy and glassy-eyed, he was barely able to look at his friends but still brazen enough to keep his head held high and look him and Kreese in the eyes. Silver’s always enjoyed his stupid, stupid bravery.

It being abo would make it so much better too. Two big, bad alphas constantly by this lithe little omega’s side, scaring off all the guys who might’ve approached him. Maybe just to make it even more toxic, Johnny assumes that since no alphas or betas are approaching him that he’s a bad omega—and Silver is right there to assure him that he’s beautiful, a muse—and drag him deeper into their all encompassing grasp.

He’d move out of his parents house so much quicker and live with Terry in that big mansion, where he has a big wardrobe of all the clothes Terry bought him and a whole room (that he doesn’t use because he always ends up sneaking into Terry’s bed—much to his delight) decorated in all his favorite things. He takes baths with Terry in that big tub constantly; he almost never gets a private bath or shower unless he demands it.

Of course he gets knocked up. How couldn’t he?

(GOOOOOOD this looks like Billy with his shorter styled hair. (eg, Greg Tolan) Now, whether that was Terry's or Johnny’s plan, who knows? Johnny is always afraid of abandonment or worse, and thought that their very own baby would keep Terry well truly chained to him. He stopped taking his birth control and wrapped his legs and arms tight around Terry the next few times he filled him up, worried that somehow Terry would know of his plan, see the excitement in his eyes.

Or maybe Terry did it on purpose, pressing in the deepest he could one of the many, many times he had Johnny trembling on his cock, pretty hole well and truly reamed around that knot as Terry spilled inside. He knew the day that he met Johnny that he had to be his forever; something that he’s never going to be willing to give up.

If it were Kreese’ choice, he would have had Johnny dressed in pretty things and round with his or Terry’s child a long time ago. The boy had far too many suiters going after him.

And hey, In a different version, he had his way. (Though he’s the type of dick to take off the condom without asking, he’s lucky Johnny had already been clamping his legs tight around them so they really couldn’t pull out in time and laid face down ass up after getting filled to make sure it took.)

(Anywho: picture this last gif as Johnny smug as hell looking at Silver and Kreese because they can’t ever leave, and don’t want to.)

[diningwiththeasquiths]

maybe instead of having johnny take one cock up his ass he could... take two? hashtag krilverlaw

You're a genius anon, absolutely brilliant!!

Once Johnny is an expert at taking one cock, Kreese tells him it's time for the next step of his training and introduces him to Sensei Silver.

Johnny has never felt a stretch like this before. Each time he thinks that it's too much, that his body is just not capable of doing this, Kreese strokes a broad hand down his trembling thigh and tells him that he's doing good. Which makes Johnny want to continue despite feeling like he's one second away of literally being split in half.

Meanwhile Terry is mainly thrilled to feel Kreese's cock pressing tightly against his own. Sure the blond lying on top of him is a fine specimen and an easy toy to play with, but the best part is that he's sharing him with John. Like sharing a nice cigar but more intimate.

After what feels like an eternity they're both fully inside and able to thrust into Johnny, shallowly at first then faster and deeper. Along the way Johnny had lost his erection, but he's starting to grow hard again, partly because of the approving look on Kreese's face as the man looks down on him, and partly because he feels impossibly full in an intense but incredible way.

Johnny's whole body is flushed and his mouth is gaping as wide as his stretched hole. The noises he's making are loud enough that they would make Kreese worry about his neighbors if he actually gave a shit about that. The three of them are so worked up that it doesn't take very much longer before they're filling Johnny up with two thick loads of come while Johnny paints his own abs with pearly white stripes.

They're stuffed in there so tightly that none of their release seeps out until Kreese pulls out, causing Terry's cock to slip free as well. An impressive amount of come follows. Looking at the boy's used and loose hole, there is only one thing on Kreese's mind:

The next lesson he'll be teaching Johnny will involve his fist.

[cobrakatharsis]

@zappedbyzabka also requested i post the “nightmares (krilverlaw)” wip so have some [gameshow host voice] more! unfinished! writing!

features hurt/comfort, terry’s ptsd, and vietnam nightmares

—

terry snaps awake with his heart pounding in his chest and the burn of freshly-spilled blood across his face.

except. no. the blood's not real. it's only sweat dripping down his face, confirmed as he swipes shaking hands over his brow and cheeks and chin and nose (and then each again, in desperate succession) and they come back wet but clean. it's hard to see in the darkness of the bedroom, but terry's used to seeing blood in the dark - black, it always looks inky black - and there's none. there's none.

his heart, pounding in his chest, at least, is real - but that's good. that's proof he's alive. here and living and breathing, trying with everything he's worth to focus on the whoosh of his breath instead of the hissing snakes and gunfire in his ears. he can hear it all, clear as day. the murmured prayers of the men around him, the distant sounds of violence. he can smell the jungle and the mud and blood and betsy's perfume, see her face in that photo, see what was left of ponytail's after that gunshot, see john's all beat up and blood-covered and full of indescribable grief as the helicopters roared overhead—

there's a weight in his lap.

the present hits terry like a freight train but there's hands holding either side of his face, thumbs stroking back and forth by his temples. he's breathing, he realises, in careful sync with the movement of the ribcage beneath his palm.

“i’m sorry," he chokes out suddenly, because he realises in that same moment that he's holding on way too hard, practically crushing johnny's ribs in his large hand. he's stronger now. he's big. not a twig anymore. he loosens his grip, tries to let go, but instantly one of the hands leaves the side of his face and covers his hand. holds it there, gently.

“'s'okay," johnny assures him, voice a sleep-rough whisper but full of casual sincerity. “was kinda admirin' the fact you could still prob'ly snap someone in half while you're mid panic attack. mine always fuckin'—turn me into jello."

and, blessedly, that's enough for terry to huff out a weak sort of laugh. it's like johnny pulls the last of the fight of the flashback out of him, and terry collapses forward, lets his head land against johnny's shoulder in a moment of complete weakness. johnny cards a hand through his undone hair, finger-combing it into some semblance of neatness. terry appreciates the effort, untidy as he feels, but bats johnny's hand away and promptly sits himself back up nonetheless. johnny lets him go easily enough, but fails to remove himself from where he'd apparently planted himself in terry's lap, and so terry does the natural thing and wraps his arms around johnny with all the usual firm possession.

if this was one of johnny's nightmares, this would be when they would try and talk about it. john would be awake, because he somehow always wakes up when johnny has a nightmare, and he'd start asking questions about people terry's never met - johnny's mother and stepfather and johnny's old cobra kai friends and an assortment of other names. sometimes larusso sneaks in there. still, it rarely makes a difference and johnny never wants to talk - and terry understands precisely how he feels. it's a mercy that johnny asks no questions, and that john is still somehow sleeping peacefully next to them, dead to the world instead of on one of his common sleepless vigils over his partners.

unless, of course, he's faking.

“johnny," terry says, in that tone that always says precisely which johnny he's talking to, and immediately john's eyes crack open, bright and sharp like they were every second in vietnam.

"yeah?"

and terry laughs again, stronger this time. he manages to give john some semblance of a real smile. the sentiment clearly isn't quite shared - kreese looks the wrong kind of concerned, his brow creased with it, and terry wants to give into the urge to tackle him from the bed and strike it from his face - but terry pushes past it with a slight raise of one shoulder, and then with seeking out johnny's shoulder once again. this time, rather than hiding against it, he presses kisses to the warm, pale skin, trailing upwards towards johnny's neck. johnny hums in encouragement, shifting back slightly to grant more space, and though john from behind pressing a kiss to terry's own neck gives him a moment of pause, it doesn't at all deter terry.

[zappedbyzabka]

Just when I was saying I needed some good krilverlaw/one of em/Johnny angst that’ll end in Lawrusso

Part 2 of this prompt by @russolaw : A TKK3 AU where Daniel and Johnny end up together.

TW: sexual exploitation.

4) Johnny gave Terry Silver the only nickname he ever really liked.

Sometimes, when he had a lot of money in his wallet, Johnny thought about skipping town. Landing in someplace small and boring, enrolling in high school for his last year, being a pretty and dangerous stranger on a motorcycle like James Dean, and having the kind of senior year he’d always wanted to. Someplace where tall blondes with perfect bodies weren’t a dime a dozen and turning yourself into a lethal weapon wasn’t just another accomplishment to put on your college application or your acting portfolio.

But then he’d catch sight of the city from the beach, the hills glowing with neon, and he’d remember that this was where people from those small towns skipped town for, the place everyone wanted to be. That Los Angeles was the City of Dreams. That it was better to be a hooker in L.A. than the mayor of any shit hick burg in Idaho or Iowa or Indiana or wherever it was that people who weren’t from someplace cool like Los Angeles came from.

Because the thing was that you could only ever be who they let you be in a small town. But you could be whoever you wanted to be in L.A., that was kind of the point of the place. And there was always a chance that you’d make it.

Johnny kept an eye out for nice cars that weren’t flashy. That meant professional men, not dealers. Professional men like Sid, although he didn’t want to get with someone like Sid, someone old and mean and demanding. He slept with them, but tried not to spend the night if he didn’t like them. One night could turn into two too easily, and then you were trapped if you weren’t careful. You didn’t need to get pregnant to be trapped, all you needed was something only he could give you. Car payments, a phone line, anything long-term. Johnny took gifts, but never anything that needed to be cared for or kept alive, and nothing that couldn’t fit in his Avanti.

Tiger had a long black ponytail and looked young, maybe like he was only a few years older than Johnny. He drove a silver Porsche Spyder the night they met, just like James Dean, and Johnny liked how well he handled the car. He told Johnny to call him something, but a motorcycle roared by and Johnny couldn’t quite hear.

“Tig?” Johnny asked, and leaned forward to show off his pecs. He was wearing a thin white tank top that he’d torn the bottom off to make it a crop top. He giggled and fluffed back his hair, which was growing out pretty long around his shoulders at this point. “Like Tigger? The tiger?”

“Yeah, Tiger,” the man said, and grinned. “Call me Tiger. I like that.”

Tiger liked it when Johnny pulled off the elastic band of his ponytail. He laughed and let his hair stream in the wind as they drove up winding canyon roads to his big sprawling house, pulled Johnny out of the car and carried him over the threshold like a bride, then crawled over him growling and kissed him on the mouth. He claimed Johnny and left red bite marks on his throat and shoulders, then carried him to a gigantic tub and fucked him again before sponging him off with something that smelled like sandalwood and leather. Then he ordered them gigantic burgers, bright red in the middle, and steak fries with garlic sauce instead of ketchup. He drank wine while Johnny drank beer, dipping his fries in the white sauce and eating them one by one as Johnny wolfed down the burger.

Johnny felt baptized, and slid into Tiger’s lap the next morning after a breakfast of lox and bagels.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying the hospitality,” Tiger said, and let him stay. He moved the Avanti into his garage and gave Johnny a Firebird, set him up in the guest room next to his and insisted on having it redecorated to match Johnny’s tastes. Johnny didn’t have any particular tastes in decorating, so Tiger picked out a riot of neon shapes and checkerboard that he said mirrored Johnny’s youthful dynamism and beautiful chaos.

Tiger said a lot of weird shit and liked weird shit, which Johnny was mostly alright with except when he’d huff and puff because Johnny didn’t get some weird movie or enjoy some dish Tiger served him with green stuff in it. He liked dressing Johnny up in shiny leather and plastic and putting makeup on him, liked taking him to clubs where people got tied up and hit each other with weird shit or shocked each other with what looked like little cattle prods. He’d pause in front of watching some guy get wax dripped on him or some girl get hung from the ceiling by her tits and ask Johnny if it turned him on, if he’d like to try it. Sometimes Johnny tried getting zapped or hit with something just to see if he could take it, but he never could say he got out of it what any of the rest of them did. It just looked too complicated, all the electric stuff and the special clothes and the tools – wasn’t sex supposed to be about body to body, skin to skin?

Tiger liked giving him presents, but after a while he stopped giving Johnny money. When Johnny asked for it, he’d ask why. He paid for everything Johnny needed, after all. Did Johnny want more clothes? More jewelry? Another car? He’d get Johnny another car. He’d take Johnny out to dinner, send the maid out grocery shopping. What did he need quarters to call home for if he had a phone in his car, a phone that Tiger paid for?

5) When Johnny saw Daniel, he knew something was very wrong.

As far as Johnny knew, Tiger was just a rich guy with a taste for Japanese decorating. All the rich guys were into that, since they were going over to Japan to make deals all the time. So he had a few katanas on his wall and liked to swan around in a yukata sometimes, that didn’t have to mean anything.

He hadn’t mentioned to Tiger that he did karate. He didn’t tell anybody about that, since that kind of brag could pretty easily get you on the wrong end of a gun out on the streets. Nobody was all that impressed with karate once you got out of high school.

So it was a hell of a surprise for him to come downstairs in a pair of briefs and an Aerosmith crop top one afternoon, hoping to find Tiger bored in his office, only to come face-to-face with Daniel LaRusso rambling about something dumb at his boyfriend while Tiger wrapped LaRusso’s bloody knuckles in bandages.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Johnny yelped from the staircase. He stopped short, body frozen, eyes on Tiger.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Daniel yelled at about the same time, pulling away from Tiger’s with a betrayed look. He backed away toward the front door, hands up in a defensive stance, ready to strike.

“I’m helping him.” Tiger seemed caught between the both of them. “Both of you–I’m helping you. I’m trying to help you both.”

Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head.

“Help me?” Johnny shook his head. “What am I, a fucking charity case to you?”

“Your sensei,” Tiger blurted out. “I knew him. It was his last wishes–if I found you–”

“You knew Kreese?” Johnny gripped the banister. The room reeled. “His last–he’s dead?”

“Oh, this is bullshit,” Daniel said. His mouth stretched out in a sardonic grin, and his eyes darted around the room. “This is such bullshit. I can't believe you right now."

“How did he die?” Johnny’s legs went numb, and he let himself drop to the stairs. “How?”

“Brick to the gas pedal.” Tiger imitated dropping something, then cocked his hand in an L and placed the tip of his index finger to his temple. “Gun to the forehead. He sent me a letter–”

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to this,” Daniel interrupted. “You know he’s lying. He’s gotta be lying, right?”

“He sent you a letter?” Johnny repeated, dumbfounded. Puzzle pieces spun in his head, bouncing off each other. Everything was too big and nothing fit together, and he wanted to retch it all out suddenly. “About me. And that’s why–that’s–”

“I thought you’d get scared and leave if you knew.” Tiger shook his head. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“He’s not sorry.” Daniel’s voice broke in clear and loud. “Look at him. He’s not sorry. He’s not even telling the truth. How useful is that? He’s just making up whatever he wants you to hear. I bet there’s no letter. I bet that asshole isn’t even dead.”

The look on Tiger’s face told Johnny everything.

6) Tiger didn’t even try to stop him from leaving.

He stood there, smug, while Johnny fished through his wardrobe for the jeans and T-shirt he’d brought with him. Asked Johnny where he thought he was going to go, since Tiger paid for everything he had.

“It’s not like I’d tell you,” Johnny said, and shoved a handful of silver and sapphire jewelry into his backpack. Tiger bought him sapphires to go with his eyes all the time.

“But you’re taking my presents,” Tiger said, pointedly.

“You gave ‘em to me,” Johnny said, and didn’t mention the cash that he kept in a pair of gym socks stuck in the lining of the backpack. That was nearly every bill he’d ever squirreled away from Tiger at this point.

“I’ll be able to find you no matter where you go,” Tiger said.

“Whatever,” Johnny said, and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“You’ll never truly be able to escape me.” Tiger followed him down the hall. “I’ll always be looking over your shoulder. I’ll be everywhere you go.”

“Have fun with that,” Johnny said.

“Every job you get,” Tiger said. “Everywhere you live, everywhere you so much as lay your head. Every time you swipe a credit card. Every phone call you–”

“You and the goddamn United States government,” Johnny said.

“You’ll never, ever be free of me if you choose to walk out that door,” Tiger said. “Never. Not in your life.”

“Let me ask you something.” Johnny grabbed the keys to his Avanti and turned around. “Why bother with me? If you were training him?”

“You should be asking me why I bothered with him,” Tiger said. “When I had you.”

“Why didn’t you train me?” Johnny asked. “Is it because I lost?”

Tiger blinked.

“It’s because I lost,” Johnny said, and stepped into the garage.

“He wanted me to avenge you,” Tiger said. “To avenge Cobra Kai. I was training him wrong, Johnny, I’ve been training him to lose. I have this fighter, his name is Michael, he’s amazing–”

“But you didn’t train me,” Johnny said, and opened the door to the Avanti.

“I wanted to keep you,” Tiger said, and it sounded like he was about to cry. “I didn’t want to put you out on the mat, Johnny. I just wanted you to be mine.”

Johnny sat in the Avanti and didn’t look at Tiger.

“Sensei is alive, isn’t he,” Johnny said, finally.

“I’ll take you to him.” Tiger sounded desperate. “Yes, he’s alive. He’d want to see you, Johnny. He’d want to know you’re okay.”

“But he doesn’t know.” Johnny’s voice cracked in his ears.

“No,” Tiger said. “No. He doesn’t. I didn’t tell him I found you.”

Johnny started the car.

“I don’t have to, Johnny.” Tiger raised his voice. “It can just be us.”

“You can tell him I don’t need his goddamn avenging.” Johnny swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Just leave Daniel alone. He’s not the one who tried to fucking strangle me.”

Tiger put his own hand around his throat. His expression didn’t change as he watched Johnny drive away.

7) Finding Daniel was surprisingly difficult, but finding Miyagi was easy.

Of course there was no “Daniel LaRusso” in the Yellow Pages. That would have made it too easy. There were fifteen entries for LaRusso in general, but none of them were Daniel. Johnny called all of them, but two of them weren’t even in order, five just rang for about a dozen rings, and three hung right up on him when he asked for Daniel. The rest said they didn’t know of a Daniel at all.

He even called Ali, but hung up before anyone picked up. How the hell was he supposed to explain what he was doing anyway? That he’d dropped out of high school because he suddenly couldn’t face being himself or living in anything like the life he’d been living? That he’d uncovered some kind of bizarre revenge plot against her ex-boyfriend that was somehow his fault in the first place, and that he had to make it right? That he didn’t even want to talk to her, but that he knew the boy he’d tormented for half a year was somehow his only chance at making anything right for himself?

It had been Miyagi that saved him, but there wasn’t even a single Miyagi in the Yellow Pages. Johnny wiped away a frustrated tear and switched to the White Pages. Cobra Kai was listed under the Karate Dojos, and he had to stop and breathe hard for a few minutes when he saw the name. But there wasn’t any Miyagi dojo, so that didn’t help him. He switched over to Japanese Cultural Businesses, and there between Marukai Market and Nihon Books and Art was Mr. Miyagi’s Little Trees.

Johnny sped across the valley. Miyagi came out just as he parked the car outside the store.

“No trouble today,” Miyagi said, like Johnny was selling it from door to door. “Please. Enough today.”

“It’s about Daniel,” Johnny said. “There’s something I think he needs to know.”

“Revenge plot, yes.” Miyagi sighed, and looked tired. “Daniel-san drop out of tournament already, okay? That enough? Revenge, good? Over?”

“It’s not me,” Johnny said. “I promise. It’s not me. I never wanted this.”

“Then what?” Miyagi glanced over his shoulder into the shop.

“I just wanted to see him,” Johnny said.

“Shop closed,” Miyagi said. “Daniel-san no seeing anyone.”

A high whistle filled the air.

“Kettle,” Miyagi said. “For tea.”

“Tell him Kreese is alive,” Johnny said, and remembered what Tiger had said about watching him everywhere he went. “Just… Just tell him to watch out, I guess.”

“Oni sensei alive.” Miyagi frowned, then looked over his shoulder at the shop.

The high whistle sputtered and faded.

“Five minutes!” Miyagi called towards the store. “Wait five–excuse Miyagi, please–”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” The words came tumbling out of Johnny’s mouth. “This is the last place I can go and I don’t have anywhere else, okay? And I think I need him. Or you. Or whatever’s in–whatever it is that you teach. I think I need to at least talk to him. I need to protect him, okay? I don’t know why Tiger’s obsessed with him, I don’t know why they’re obsessed with him, but I need–I need to figure it out. At least let me try to figure it out. Please?”

“Ahh.” Miyagi nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “Your rival. Like Rikiishi to Joe Yabuki.”

“I don’t–who?” Johnny shook his head. “Who’s that?”

“From Ashita no Joe,” Miyagi said. He glanced towards the shop one last time, then beckoned Johnny to follow him. “A comic book from Japan. Come, have tea. Miyagi have all twenty volumes.”

That was good enough. Johnny followed him.

[zappedbyzabka]

Alpha Kreese and Silver fucking omega Johnny on the dojo mats while he drips a puddle of slick beneath him from how much he likes it. Gets their cocks absolutely soaked, and his face turns rosy like his bitten lips when they tease him for the gross squelching sound of them pounding his wet hole. Tell him his pussy is just as loud as him.

[zappedbyzabka]

I'm thinking about Construction worker Kreese and Silver from my tags.

Johnny walks past the site they’re working on every day. Shorts so short they might as well be panties and tight tops so tight they can see his damn nipples through them.

He smiles at them prettily every time, even when They catcall him—whistle appreciatively and shout, "Hey, doll, where you running off to without us?" (Silver’s calling is more ‘Let me buy you something even sluttier to put on and show off.”)

Sometimes he’ll drop something on purpose and bend over right in front of them to pick it up.

Then they lured him to come closer and talk to them—and oh boy, was it an even better view of that sweet, lithe body—strong but a total joke in comparison to them. That waist in itself, is the span of Silver’s hand.

He’s so giggly and pink when they keep giving him salacious compliments. All long and fluttering and pink down to his chest.

Of course, they let him into the site and fucked him behind some plywood. Put him on his hands and knees and took turns using his holes while he moaned, squeaked, and arched.

Dribbled spit and cum from how hard they went on him and shook. (They might have had to drive him to school.)

They both loved how that lovely mouth looked stretched around their dicks and how tight his hole clenched when he choked.

They have to keep him.

[zappedbyzabka]

[zappedbyzabka]

Krilverlaw on the brain. A strange love triangle that turns into Kreese and Silver agreeing to share their pretty little fighter

(Because really he has the control in the end.)

[zappedbyzabka]

Silver who lives next to Sid and Kreese who’s staying with Silver. Getting tempted by the pretty boy next door with all that coy but dirty flirting and failing to resist miserably. Sweet lips and silky thighs that look delicious. Cute pecs that Kreese stays up at night thinking about.

[zappedbyzabka]

Still thinking of an au where both Kreese and Terry train Johnny, and yeah they’re going to play with that pretty boy, but a bit differently than Terry did with Daniel.

Johnny is so enamored by his senseis. Can’t believe he got lucky enough to have two well trained men teaching him—sometimes for hours a day. The way Silver corners and circles him like a predator and the way Kreese unapologetically manhandles him however he pleases when showing him moves—sometimes for no reason at all.

They leave bruises often, and he presses into them when he’s laying in bed at night.

Training sometimes includes zero gi’s. Zero clothes at all, actually—at least for Johnny.

He can do his impressive stretches and kata training fully exposed in front of them. Just so they can see his full body and really help him improve, you know?

And if they accidentally grope that round ass or graze against those soft, perky tits—if the touches get firmer and more intentioned…who can blame them? Especially when Johnny always has such a sweet reaction: dollish blush spreading from his nose to chest, trying to keep his face blank like he isn’t liking it. Like their big hands on him and deep voices in his ear guiding him aren’t making him perk up humiliatingly.

But they’ll completely ignore that until he’s willing to beg. That’s when they’ll give into their dark desires.

Ravage the boy completely.

[zappedbyzabka]

Fem Kreese loves when Joanie wears her shirts and flannels, which are too big on her.

She almost never has a bra on when she’s wearing them because she’s usually lounging around in Kreese's bed in them, chilling around her apartment with her nipples poking through the shirts. Her perfect, strong thighs out because she likes to hang out in her briefs—"It’s comfortable! Don’t you like when you have easy access?" She’d ask with a fake pout on her face, pointing those hypnotizing eyes at her, and Kreese always indulges herself in that temptation.

But it also makes her unable to keep a small smile off her face and feel humiliating warmth in her chest when Joanie throws her flannels over her shirts and dresses. ("So I won’t miss you while I’m gone." Always said jokingly, like she isn’t sure Kreese will be okay with Joanie missing her. Kreese finds herself missing her too; as much as she hates the weakness, it was bad enough to miss twig.)

She’s never felt this way about anyone before: not Betsy or any other short relationship she had. The closest is Terry, who has her very own seat in Kreese's cold heart, right next to Joanie. (Terry truly hadn’t found anyone worth her time that wasn’t her captain until she met Kreese’s girl, and they became something, the three of them.)

Joanie loves Kreese, she has for a while. She loves the dimple in her chin and the stress wrinkles on her face. She loves feeling her lips against hers (her prominent cupid's bow might as well shoot her) and messing with the dog tags around her neck—which Kreese lets her do, and Joanie knows how much that means.

[zappedbyzabka]

[zappedbyzabka]

This is a good flavor

[zappedbyzabka]

🌹

(Lawrusso and krilverlaw. Silver has been stalking Johnny for a a while, something that he kept from Kreese.)

Kreese is livid. Johnny was his. He’d been spending so much time crafting him into something perfect, then some useless Newark twerp comes along to…what? Ride off into the sunset with someone that isn’t his? Handle that wild nymph the same way Kreese can? Absolutely fucking ridiculous and temporary—Kreese will make sure of that with Twig's help.

[zappedbyzabka]

Kreese practically swoons when he talks about the Lawrence kid. How special he is, how he wants to make the first time good for him. How he'll romance him. Wait until he's ready. Keep little blonde Johnny by his side.

And Terry can't stand that. So he makes the first move and makes it rough, behind his John's back. Programs him. Turns him into an empty-eyed little whore.

He has a present for John. Leads a naked Johnny on a golden chain, golden collar, golden rings in his tits.

The look on John's face is exquisite.

Brooooo

Terry sits down, a huge, smug grin on his face that grows even wider when little Johnny immediately nuzzles his thigh with his back arched a little and his ass pushed out, like it's instinct. Silver is delighted to see John's gaze fixated on the elegant dip of Johnny's back.

"Don't be mad, captain; all I did was strike first," Terry says, stroking Johnny's head gently for a few moments before fisting the boy's hair and pushing his pretty face against his crotch, just to watch John's face when he sees his little champion not fight back but instead look up at Terry adoringly with glassy eyes and mouth at his cock through the expensive fabric of his suit pants. John looks helpless in a way Silver has never seen before, his fists clenching like he wants to hit something.

Terry scoffs, "You look a little stressed, John," he comments casually. "Perhaps you need some help."

Silver pulls the boy away, shushing him when he lets out a pathetic whimper. "Shh, enough whining. Why don't you go give my guest some attention, hm?" he coos, cupping Johnny's cheek in his big hand.

Johnny nods his head and kisses Silver's hand sweetly, then looks over at Kreese with a small smile, rests both hands against the cold floor, and crawls over.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

ugghfhhff Terry and Kreese passing around a cigar AND Johnny? Sign me up!

Terry would be so slow with Johnny, admiring his body and forcing Johnny to go slow when he rides him. He’d force eye contact, gripping Johnny’s face as he watches the boy begin to whine from the attention. Of course, Terry is Terry, and he’s mean to Johnny at times. He sees the boy edging closer to his release, and he chuckles, then grabs his cigar and as he exhales, blows smoke into Johnny’s face, watches him begin to tear up as he whispers, “Not yet, sweetheart. Get off, go to Kreese.”

Johnny obliges with a simple, “Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me ride you.”

Kreese on the other hand is more rough and doesn’t care to take his time. Once he has his hands on Johnny, he’s spearing him on his cock. Kreese doesn’t bother to set aside his cigar either, simply hands it to Johnny with the instruction, “Hold that for me, doll.” Kreese admires Johnny, not like Terry though; he chooses to admire Johnny’s disheveled form as he bounces quickly on his cock.

Johnny is only allowed to cum when he’s being penetrated by both Terry and Kreese, thats the rule. So, Johnny is ever grateful when the time comes. He doesn’t care if Terry blows more smoke into his face or if Kreese grips his hips too tight because he’s in a hazy state where all he can focus on is cock and his own impending pleasure.

When he’s finally cum, all he can say is, “Thank you, sirs.”

Yesssss, this is some great stuff anon! 👌👌 I love how they both have their own distinct style of fucking Johnny.

Terry savors Johnny like one of his fine wines, and he has a mean streak. What's the fun if there are no tears involved, right? Meanwhile Kreese is all action and enjoys Johnny in a more primal way. (Him calling Johnny things like 'doll' and 'sweetheart' is 🔥🔥 btw)

After each evening together, Mr. Silver's driver drops Johnny off at his house in Encino. And each time Johnny can feel their combined seed leak out of him the entire drive back.