#dead dove (literally.)

[prokopetz]

The fic's tags: #dead dove

The fic's first line: "In retrospect, we should have been more concerned about the exploding pigeons."

[siscon-stsg]

could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;

Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it

I love your writings <3

(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)

THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j

satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.

but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.

“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”

and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”

your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!

he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.

“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.

“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.

was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?

satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?

after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.

satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”

“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.

“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.

the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.

you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!

satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.

“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”

“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.

he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”

“y-yeees!”

your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and

satoru stopped.

“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.

the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.

“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[grlpartdoll]

I'm sorry this is gonna be so gross but mysoginistic gross, old values, fuckiiinnnnggg no manners whatsoever, weirdo freak pervert ! Simon is stuck on my mind.

He's so casually perverted, so fucking offensive.

You're just his boss' little toy (his wife) there's no reason he can't plant his cock in some tight warm walking hole when it's around, right?

No reason that he couldn't just corner you at all times of the day, feeling you up "accidentally"

If you ask about it, he just laughs in your face and tells you you're being a sensitive little girl about it.

Casually, as you sit with your husband John and Johny and Gaz, lifts up your shirt, rubbing at your belly idly. Murmuring something about how good you'd look full and round. (You ignore that he also mentions you being full of his seed)

When you mention wanting to go back to college during one of your dinners with the team, he just laughs, full belly deep, the sound sooo condescending its almost scathing. (Your belly swerves and heats up)

He doesn't even look at you, just turns to John, his face so fucking arrogant, with that creepy Glasgow smile, and tells him that "his little trophy breeding mare is getting big ideas !"

When you cry about that, he just coos in between bites of his food. "C'mon, pet, you can't actually think you're meant for anything more than parading around and being full of cock all day?"

Okay sorry this is SOOO fucking gross

[cosmossystem]

funniest fucking hatemail i've ever gotten. Bro i'm legit in the middle of writing gilf noncon. Do you really think i would hate this scenario. I am the wrong guy to be sending this to babe this is my wildest FANTASY you fucked up so bad

edit: would like for everyone in the notes to be reminded that the person who sent this was not intending to send it over ship discourse. they sent it because of our stances on plurality. it was an act of ableism, not just a ship thing. just don't want that nuance to be lost in this conversation

[angeldustthewhore]

Hello Tumblers and Baddie Fumblers, this is my first attempt at a promo post so please be gentle. 😊

Hazbin Hotel is my current hyperfixation so I figured I'd try and break into the role play scene on this site. 🤗

For obvious reasons, be 21+ ONLY. Mun is 25+ themselves. MINORS DNI. 🤬

Other than being of the legal age to consume alcohol in the United States, my ideal writing partner would be someone who enjoys writing dark and/or dead dove subjects. And although it isn't an absolute necessity to write with me, I do find that when the plot is vanilla for too long I tend to get bored and lose interest. I crave drama. 🔥

I'm happy to write any type of relationship between our characters, be that familial, friends, romantic, enemies, etc. if you can dream it, we can write it. 🌈

I do enjoy writing ERP, but we don’t have to include that if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m also always more than willing to do a ‘fade to black,’ moment. If you do choose to do an ERP with me, by default I tend to make Angel a bratty sub. I can and will write him as a top, but it is not my preference to do so. 😌

As far as ships go, I am willing to write just about any MxM ship. TW: I am what you'd consider a proshipper myself, because I do ship AngelNiss and ValAngel, but I also ship the normal stuff like Huskerdust. I understand that most people find those types of ships repulsive, so I will always use the appropriate tags when posting content of them so that you can block the tags. If that’s a deal breaker for you then I am very sorry, but I can’t stop being me, babes. 🤷‍♀️

I won't personally write Angel as being in a romantic or sexual relationship with a female character because he is canonically gay and I want to respect his sexuality, but if you do that, more power to ya. 🌸

I actually enjoy writing some of the more taboo and weird stuff including dead dove topics such as: incest, mpreg, age gaps, gender swaps, futas, dubcon, noncon, and so on and so forth. So if you want to rp something but you’re afraid of it coming off as strange, please don’t be afraid to reach out. The worst I can say is no, right? ✨

I tend to write multiple paragraphs per reply and in the third person style but I don't mind matching my partner's style instead. 📝

If you’re interested in writing with me, drop a like or DM me and let’s start hitching some kind of plot together! 💙

[velvet-games]

fucked up staticmoth time! (no idea if this is good or not lol; I've never written dead dove-adjacent stuff before)

cw for dub/non-con, (extremely) unhealthy relationship dynamics, acephobia, racism

I wrote vox as kind of a disaster bi that fell in love with everyone in favorite, which I thought would be incompatible with aroace vox, but! I think it's perfect actually.

I present to you:

aroace vox who was rejected by everyone, who never had enough actual romantic/sexual experience in life to realize she'd never felt allo attraction (she does love very deeply, just not like that)

asian vox who feels emasculated by the stereotype that asian men are impotent/undesirable and will fight to the death to prove that he does indeed fuck (she doesn't)

transfem vox who is so unbelievably repressed that she overcompensates by playing the role of a dominant, hypersexual man after death

vox who is so immediately enamored by valentino's attention that she interprets the feeling of validation as love

vox who starts to believe that alastor's criticisms of her must've meant he was just a heartless asshole and never really her friend in the first place

(mildly) sex-repulsed vox who learns from valentino that love and sex are supposed to feel uncomfortable and scary

valentino who implies on several occasions that aroace people aren't real; they're just boring prudes who aren't hot enough get laid! sex is a part of human nature, mi amor; relax, it's all in your head.

sex-repulsed vox who loves valentino anyway, because the moments of genuine comfort and affection are special to her

they'll always be special to her, unfortunately

sex-repulsed vox who is so paranoid about valentino getting bored of her that she discovers her hypnosis powers while trying to convince him to fuck her

he still wants to fuck her, right? she's still worth something?

maybe val never really liked her, maybe he was lying about finding her attractive, but vox can make sure he wants to stay. and it's supposed to feel bad when it happens; it's the least she can do to endure it ...

vox who starts to feel sick to her stomach thinking about valentino touching her, but it's just butterflies. she's just nervous. she's just in love.

vox who gets trigger happy and starts hypnotizing val when he shows any signs of being out of her control

vox who eventually can't tell how much the hypnosis has done and how much of val is actually intact

vox who wants to care about that last part, but who does she have if valentino leaves her?

[alexandriastark76]

What is haunting alison or whatever it was in your tags?

Thank you for asking! I’ve been waiting to rant about this for a while now!

Beware though, dear OP cause we go into a deep dive about abusive behaviours, non consensual acts, stalking, obsessive behaviour, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, rape, and overall graphic themes which (sarcastically) is dark romance for you.

Please do not go further if you are a minor or are triggered by heavy topics like these

Stay safe <3

So, Haunting Adeline is a mature themed book written by H. D. Carlton.

According to the summary at the back, this is what you get:

The Diamond.

Death walks alongside me but the reaper is no match for me. I'm trapped in a world full of monsters dressed as men, and those who aren't as they seem. They won't keep me forever. I no longer recognize the person I've become. And I'm fighting to find my way back to the beast who hunts me in the night. They call me a diamond. But they've only created an angel of death.

The Hunter.

I was born a predator, with ruthlessness ingrained in my bones, when what's mine is stolen from me in the night, like a diamond hidden within a fortress. I find that I can no longer contain the beast. Blood will paint the ground as I tear apart this world to find her, and bring her back to where she belongs. No one will escape my wrath, especially not those who have betrayed me.

(In my opinion, this already gets very cliche but let’s carry on I guess)

Actual summary however, is:

The book is about how Adeline forms a “relationship” with her stalker while she discovers who killed her great-grandmother (who also had a stalker), while from the stalker's point of view, he is looking for an organization that kills children while stalking and searching.

This isn’t bad, per se, but it is a very hypocritical setting for what happens later on.

Now, as we move onwards with the book, we see that Adeline Reilly lives in her gran’s house where she is being stalked by her stalker Zade Meadows. She seemingly goes on date (and has sex) with a guy who (she doesn’t know about it though) is a very intimately involved personnel in a child trafficking ring. Zade knows this, so, he kills him (if i recall correctly), cuts his hand off and mails it to Adeline with a rose and warns her to not go on a date anymore.

This happens a couple of times, her doing things (not specifically just going on dates, because she doesn’t go on dates anymore either) that grates him, and so on.

Direct excerpts:

This isn’t disturbing, at least according to the range of ‘dark romance’.

But this is where it gets bad.

One day, Zade comes over blinded by rage that Adeline let another man touch what is “his” aka Adeline herself (let’s not even talk about how dehumanising that is), and rapes her.

And I’m saying rape, because there is no other word with which you can describe it.

He walks in dead of the night, holds her at gunpoint and forces her to undress and then forces himself on her. And proceeds to assault her with that very gun.

Excerpt if you want:

This is where shit gets disturbing and frankly, disgusting, even by the dark romance standards.

Note that I keep saying the dark romance standards because readers have a habit to excuse such behaviours and actions by claiming that it is “dark romance” this is what means to read “dark” romance. That such disturbing themes are going to be there, and we should’ve “read the trigger warnings”.

Now, one might wonder, that there should not be any issue with CNC, but, let’s go back.

The question that rises is, is it truly CNC?

CNC is a kink among the BDSM community, which features Consensual Non Consent.

CNC, is a role play of sorts, which has pre-discussed boundaries, safewords, and proper communication between the people taking part in it. Which, might I remind, did not happen.

Zade storms in, there is no discussion, and assaults the girl who he calls “his” by the way.

Common argument against this made by fans are, “Adeline liked it, so it isn’t actually non consent.” Does reading Exhibit 5 make you feel like she liked it? She literally describes it as:

“My body is full of rage, humiliation, and shame—I know this. But it’s like my brain can’t process those emotions, so it’s just choosing to feel nothing at all.

Is this what trauma does? Knowing you’ve been violated but your body chooses to go numb instead?”

I beg your finest pardon but this does not sound like a person having enjoyed a deliberate sexual assault.

Finally we come to the topic that what is the issue of people with this book.

People, fans, readers, are not only idolising this behaviour (stalking, the apparent “CNC” and the rough way of assault) and before anyone comes to blab that “no one is idolising this blah blah blah”— one simple search on YouTube, Instagram, TikTok and the BikerTok apparently with Haunting Adeline edits will show you how much teenage girls and other people are fawning over a rapist. (If you still have doubts that Zade is not a rapist simply on the account that he helped trafficking victims, then you need to seriously re evaluate your moralities)

Such toxic/stalking behaviours have been labelled “sexy and hot” which frankly disgusts me that there are so many young people seeing this and becoming susceptible to abuse and toxicity.

No one wants to ban this book, we simply want people to stop romanticising it. What he does is not right, and to hold that shitty behaviour on high accord simply because the Stockholm Syndrome setting sets a rapist and his victim together, does not make it right. Real life stalkers are not pretty or sexy, why should we not hold the fictional ones accountable and then?

People will torch up actual morally grey characters for much less and then go lust over a fucking rapist.

Just because other readers are holding him accountable and criticising him does not make them snowflakes, it makes you look like a fan blind to the pretty privilege.

Booktok has developed a bad reputation because of readers like these, and considering most of the booktok does act as an apologist, it isn’t wrong to say that most of the booktok is ignorant to such characters and their atrocities.

In conclusion, we don’t want to censor the book, or criticise rhetoric writer for writing themes like these, it isn’t the worst of the “dark romance”, we simply want the author to tag it properly (it was NOT CNC) and for readers to not romanticise a rapist.

Hope that answers your question OP! Also, note that when I said You so many times, it was simply about the fans of this book series.

<3

[mearchy]

I used to read a lot of really really dark sad whump fics pretty much exclusively. Characters getting absolutely mentally and physically annihilated in the worst, most soul-crushing circumstances possible. Lots of hurt no comfort. Lots of apocalypses. Over the past five or six years, I’ve turned to reading mostly stories about characters getting dogs and having adventures with them, or growing old together, or escaping bad circumstances against all odds. Fix-it AUs. Slice-of-life fics. I’m not necessarily a happier person. I think I just value those stories more than I did. Something something the dystopia is here something something wisdom comes with age. Dykwim

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I wonder like what does Yves like to eat? Does he prefer sweet foods? Savory? Salty? Etc?

I could also imagine that he would change his darlings food cravings and wants with his reality bending if they are lacking a certain vitamin or mineral.

TW: eating disorders, gore and nasty horrible rich people stuff like making people their toilets or something, sexual harassment and human trafficking

He has expensive taste, the palate of a stereotypical rich person. It doesn't matter if the dish is sweet or savory, it must be made from scratch from the freshest produce the market can offer. He prefers to eat his own cooking as he can easily control what goes into it.

Yves has an intense aversion to strong-tasting foods, not because he can't handle the pungent aroma of garlic or other spices; he used to eat boxes upon boxes of takeout, fast food, and convenience meals.

It's because he associated them with the decades he spent struggling to find his footing in this world. They were cheap, accessible, and definitely not something he would willingly put in his body despite knowing it probably wouldn't affect him greatly in any way now.

Foods that are greasy, overly salty, processed to unrecognizable heights, and contain a barrel's worth of sugar are foods that Yves has a strong disdain for. He very much prefers eating foods that are steamed, boiled, or baked with minimal amounts of oil, salt, and sugar. His cooking is definitely still flavourful, it's mostly simple but it has a quality that makes it lavish and 'clean'.

Yves wasn't always like this though. Just like most humans, he started off hating his vegetables and fruits, yearning for junk and other vices. His previous cravings are only exacerbated by the stressful life that he lived, to no one's surprise, he wasn't always in the best shape. Or the best state of mind.

He knows what it was like to live in a severely unhealthy body on both ends of the spectrum. Yves was both a hundred pounds overweight and a hundred pounds underweight, neither phase was fun at all and it just made his life much harder than it was supposed to be.

Yves sobbed hysterically when he failed to stop himself from eating an entire 5-pound chocolate cake to cope with his emotions, then promptly threw up everything afterward on the dingy floor of his dilapidated rental. He was too familiar with the feeling of his two fingers pushing his uvula as deep as he could so he could empty his stomach into the toilet bowl, to the point that the off-white ceramic was painted red. Yves knew what half-eaten hamburgers covered in god-knows-what, found in dumpsters taste like. He knew what ingredient in candies to look for that aided him in vomiting, he tried all the slimming teas, laxatives, and enemas. Yves had his favorite brands.

Yves vividly remembers how he would be out of breath just by standing up, how his joints felt like it was about to give out at any moment. The bruises he received from merely sitting on certain types of chairs, the horrible chafing that led to nasty, debilitating infections because he didn't have the means to receive medical attention, the humiliation, and degradation, painful and permanent swellings, the increased frequency of sexual groping that usually led to something much worse, overheating in a flesh suit that he cannot just remove, the cruel loneliness, the desperation for food when he doesn't even have a single cent left to his name, his reflection and more revolting memories.

He remembers all of it. He remembers the broken bones that were forced to heal on their own, bleeding orifices leaking with excrement due to his abuse of weight-losing drugs, articles of clothing ruined by his own feces and vomit, the obsession over the number on his scale, the shivering even at scorching temperatures, locks of his hair clogging the drain, fainting spells that cost him his meager wages for the week, the taste of his own stomach acid still lingers on his tongue, his "friends" who were equally as ghoulish calling Yves a fat pig and incessantly oinking at him for finishing a whole apple by himself, being unable to chew properly because his teeth were eroded, being unable to fight back because he was just that weak, fingers that looked like it belonged to a rotting corpse, his reflection, the hunger, the hunger, the hunger...

And in both chapters of his life, one thing stayed constant. The infamous, deep-fried, saturated, tastebud-abusing slop served to the disadvantaged masses.

So please do forgive him when he gives you a blank look for an uncomfortable while when you eat a crispy fried chicken leg in front of him. He didn't mean to give the plate of french fries on the table a long, dull stare before digging in like any other normal person; with a lot more elegance. Yves just had a few memories pass through his mind, that's it.

Not to say that he will act like it's the end of the world to eat the food that he hates. You wouldn't know that he despised them unless he told you, Yves would have eaten it without complaint and hesitation, expressing his gratitude to you for getting these for him. He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, after all.

Yves understands that his experience doesn't necessarily reflect yours, he has no issue with you eating garbage foods in moderation. You will have cravings, it's simply something humans like you have to deal with. He will still agree to have a date or two at a fast-food joint even if he detests the griminess and classlessness of it all, as long as it makes you happy to see him 'enjoying' himself too. Of course, he would attempt and succeed at making healthier alternatives at home.

If you're craving something that is missing many of the key nutrients but it's not harmful to your health, he would fortify it with the needed vitamins or minerals. You couldn't even tell the difference, but your body will.

He will have a massive problem if you exhibit the same symptoms his younger self had. Yves will plant his foot firmly on the ground, he wouldn't even talk to you about it. He goes straight to rewiring your brain without even thinking if Yves noticed your struggles. You would find yourself one day 'cured' of whatever complex you had with food, baffled but grateful, brushing it off as something trivial although it is anything but.

You might notice that the fridge always has at least one tin of sturgeon caviar on a block of ice. You deduced that his favorite food is caviar, but you might not truly know why.

He isn't stingy with it. Yves told you that you are welcome to eat as much as you want (within reason, it has a ridiculously high sodium content). Whether you like eating it or not, it was astonishing that he could replace it as soon as it's finished despite needing to pay an exorbitant amount for a container the size of your palm.

And he associated that overpriced spoonful of fish eggs with the dawn of a new era and the end of his horror-filled years. His life wasn't perfect when he first tried it, far from it actually. He still gets assaulted, spat on, molested, and insulted straight to his face, more so due to his new career as a budding fashion model. But it was a change, an overall positive change.

Despite first trying it at a mansion owned by a syndicate of influential Oligarchs who hire conventionally beautiful people and commit unspeakable acts against them, caviar became a symbol of hope. Yves, disheveled, drugged beyond belief, and covered in bruises, cuts, and disgusting fluids, managed to slip out of the room where the torture happened. His own disorganized thoughts drowned out the screams of his colleagues and the cheers of the rich, Yves was on a mission.

He somehow maneuvered his way through the hallways without being detected by staff or other members, finding his way to one of the private chambers. It was occupied an hour ago, as shown by the mildly displaced chairs and empty crystal glasses.

Even under the influence of substances, his first instinct wasn't necessarily to run away. It was to rob them of everything they had, watches, jewelry, shoes, bags- anything he could get his sticky hands on. God, he so badly wanted to own their wardrobe. The rings looked dazzling on his fingers, and the purses fit right around his arm.

Then his bloodshot, dilated eyes landed on the glass table.

An open bottle of champagne half filled; in Yves's eyes, half-empty. A tray with something he only heard of, but never seen. A tin filled with numerous, tiny black spheres accompanied by a plate of Blinis and an intricate bowl of creme fraiche, and a couple of lemon wedges.

His hands trembled as he stumbled towards the glistening set. These are what the rich and powerful eat. He thought to himself. Yves didn't understand the fondness towards these. Tastewise, he didn't find anything particularly exciting or great. Statuswise...

For a minute, just a mere minute, Yves felt like he was at the top of the world. Yves ate what his 'masters' ate.

It didn't matter that he got caught after, it didn't matter he was made an example of by being urinated in front of an audience, beaten unconscious, and had a skull fracture. For a moment, he was their equal. And this will be the last time he will be disrespected to this level.

He escaped with enough stolen goods to buy his way out of his hell.

And he stole a coveted tin of caviar for himself.

[lilacxquartz]

staring at the warnings i added as i format the draft for tomorrow’s fic update like

[slutbee]

cw dead dove

john forcing sam to have sex with dean to learn “the ropes” but hitting him whenever he does something wrong/awkward, which of course deeply offends dean but what can he do? john did the same thing to him when he was sam’s age….

it’ll be good for him. after all, dean turned out fine.

[metis-metis]

I am begging academics to realise that ancient people had emotions too.

[darkdoverpseeker]

hi ! 24f looking for some new writing partners on discord :] please be 21+ , and match my energy when it comes to plotting and interacting . i like gushing about our ships and plot, making edits , and pinterest boards if i'm invested :] im a semi-literate to literate writer, and also like doing back and forth and texting threads . my activity fluctuates , but i'm a laid back partner and i like talking ooc . i gravitate towards f/f ships but i also like f/m ships if the plot is good and exciting. i love angst and drama and intense romance . i write smut with muns im comfortable with and have plotted with . possible 🕊️ tw depending on what kind of things you're interested in!

currently wanting : oc x oc fandomless , or fandom roleplays (oc x cc or cc x cc ) . any ship are up for discussion .

fandoms : the vampire diaries , legacies, the originals , twilight , yellowjackets , the boys & gen v .

things i like !

gothic romance . monster romance ( vampires , werewolves , etc ) . historical / period. medium to high fantasy . scifi . dystopia . survival games . horror movie tropes . celebrity and musician verses . soulmates . exes . rich people drama . seasonal plots ( so rn im in a halloween mood! ) and more :]

if you're interested please like this .

like if interested!

[rp-partnerfinder]

🐻 hi there! advanced literate / novella writer here looking for someone enthusiastic to work with. will literally send you memes, headcanons and create pinterest boards / playlists one hour after we start talking because I'm unhinged and proud of it. all i’m asking for is that you are above the age of 18! minors dni.

i only do f x m, as i’m not comfortable with anything else as of now. i prefer to write for the male roles! not necessarily looking for a fandom / canon based roleplay, nor plot. i have a bunch of male ocs i’ve been wanting to write! i’m all for the sappy, sweet and angsty slice of life plots — also very into darker themes / dead dove. i’m itching to write a western type of plot; outlaws, cowboys, saloons, you name it! i’d also be very very interested in a plot based on the 60’s / 70’s biker gangs, since one of my muses fits right into that role. nevertheless, i’m super open minded and willing to try anything, especially when it comes to plots and absurd ideas. thank you for reading! :)

.

[send-me-a-puffalope]

i feel like a waiter 💀💀💀