#incest fic

[rafaslittleboy]

PROWL

pairing: dad!sonny carisi x reader

summary: your mom and dad argue all the time, and with a little bit of digging, you learn it’s because your dad isn’t being satisfied.

tags: incest, father/child incest, DONT READ IF U DONT LIKE, reader is early twenties so LEGAL AGE, smut, p-in-v sex, clit rubbing, slight fingering, selfish sex (but you like it). Reader has no specified gender but has pussy/clit. Office sex, kissing, your dad and mom don’t get along.

special thanks for @noellawrites for helping me greatly with this fic ❤️

smut below the cut, minors don’t interact & don’t interact if you’re sensitive and don’t like these sort of fics.

The first thing you heard as you entered the apartment was yelling. Your mom scoffing and dishing out a mouthful of verbal assaults on your dad. When you unlocked the door and stepped in, their argument hushed and then as you walked into the open-plan kitchen, the argument ceased to exist. As if it never happened in the first place.

“Is… everything okay?” and you were met with mutual silence. “Dad?

“It’s nothin’.” Dominick replied curtly and turned on the coffee maker. “How was work?” he asked, quick to change the subject.

You could tell when your father was annoyed—nearing angry, he would clench his jaw and the muscles in his arms (which showed under his shirt, rolled up to the elbow). He always tried to not show you when he was in a mood that wasn’t happy, but he was only human. Your mother, on the other hand, was always in a negative mood—nothing was ever good enough for her.

You sighed and put down your backpack and took a seat on a stool at the island. “It was whatever, I hate working nights.”

Sonny turned to you with a fresh mug of caramel flavoured coffee in his large hands. In exchange, you handed him a paper bag containing a pastry that he tended to eat most mornings. Whether you brought one back or he visited you before he got to the courthouse to start his treacherous day.

“Aw, kid, ya didn’t have to.” He always says that, kissing you on the cheek as he takes it from your hands. Your cheeks grew warm. “Thank you, this’ll definitely keep me goin’—really made my mornin’.” and your dad smiled wide at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling.

Your stomach flipped.

Your mom was silent still, angrily making breakfast. Her movements were enough to show you that she was in a mood, and that you should probably stay out of her way for the rest of the day.

Your dad came into your life when you were ten. Ten years after having a meant-nothing relationship with your mom and only when she was running low on money, she reached out and contacted your father for a little child support money. Sonny was shocked at first, finding out he had a kid, but after taking care of new-born Jesse and having his paternal instincts go haywire for a child that wasn’t his; it was like Christmas came early on a Wednesday evening in Spring.

Sonny asked for visitation and your mom agreed, and the first thing he did was look for two-bedroom apartments. Sonny worked overtime in the precinct just so he could afford the extra room, anything for his little angel. And as you grew, you preferred his apartment more and more. He came home late, but he would always enter your room and make sure you were breathing and safe, always leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Somehow within the last eleven years, your mom moved in with Sonny and it was like a nice little family. Sometimes your mom and dad acted as if they were together, sometimes they didn’t.

And as you entered your early twenties, he still did it. As he transitioned from Detective to Assistant District Attorney, he worked even more hours just to support your little family, your mom stopped working and it was up to your father to provide for all of you—so that’s why you took a stupid, underpaying twenty-four-hour internet cafè just to help out with bills.

—

Later on in the evening, you sat down next to your dad in the living room. Your mom was already asleep in their shared bedroom, likely lost in a wine-induced dream.

“What was the argument about? Today?”

“S’nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t your problem.” And he leaned over to kiss you on your forehead, lingering just a few seconds longer.

“B-but— if it’s you and mom, it is my problem. I’m your kid, I’m the one tying you together,” you sigh miserably.

Sonny turns to look at you with a sad expression before cupping your cheek in his big hand. You were closer to your Dad than your mom, because of things like this; he cared so much about you and she showed it.

He examined the pleading look in your eyes, and he knew you wouldn’t drop the subject until you received a satisfactory answer.

“Your mom ‘n I… we really try. I always do what she wants when she wants it, ‘ya know? But she uses me, n’ then when I want some, it’s like she don’t even wanna look at me—“ he sighed.

“Daddy— you don’t deserve that,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Your faces were so close, you were glad that the room was dimly lit just enough so your dad couldn’t see the warm blush rising up your cheeks.

“‘S okay, doll. I got you, you’re all I need,” he says with a smile, leaning over to kiss your forehead before getting up to go to his bedroom. You watched him as he walked off and turned to the bedroom he shared with your mom, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

—

You woke up early in the morning to the sound of hushed arguing. Their voices vibrated through the walls like before, and you found yourself closing your eyelids and taking a deep exhale.

It took a minute, you sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes and took a glance at your alarm clock on the bedside table—it was barely over seven in the morning and they were already at each other’s throats.

Your pajamas were a simple set, a cotton t-shirt that was a size or two up from your own size (that was most likely your father’s) and a pair of black cotton shorts; you’d gone to class in worse attire.

Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door and took a second before you walked to the kitchen where their voices came from. As you entered, your mother turned away from your Dad and bit her tongue and silently and angrily making breakfast as your dad busied himself pouring coffee into his large travel mug.

“Is everything okay?” you asked. You were met from cold silence from your mom, which was the usual in most times. It took a second for your Dad to turn around and give you a tight lipped smile.

“Everythin’s fine, kiddo,” he said, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess.” It was great until I was woken up by your constant arguing, you really wanted to say, but you held your tongue and decided to be polite—just like how he raised you to be. Always keep the negative thoughts to yourself.

“I gotta go to work,” he said curtly and kissed your forehead, as he always did.

“Can I come with you?” You asked as he rounded the island to pick up his dark red briefcase. “I dunno, dunno if SVU will need me to do some undercover stuff.”

“Undercover stuff,” your mom tutted and angrily whisked eggs in the pan. “You’re an ADA, you don’t go undercover.”

Sonny shared a glance with you before your mom started again, “there you go, talking about work. Is it because Olivia is there?”

Your mom, Amanda, couldn’t be anymore wrong.

Sonny turns and walks towards the door without saying a word, and you follow.

When you reach the door, you whisper, “can I come with you? Please?”

You knew that if you had your only day off and spent it in the apartment with your mom, she would start on you next—and you really didn’t want to do that.

Your dad takes one last glance at your mom and sighs, ushering you out the door beside him. “Sure, kid. C’mon.” And he ushered you to put on your sneakers and to take your jacket and backpack.

——-

When you reach the eighth floor, Sonny clears a stack of file folders off a spot on his couch for you, giving you a smile as he pats the seat.

“Dad, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? I hate seeing you and mom arguing like this,” you sigh, bringing up your knees to rest your chin on, your arms wrapping around your calves.

“Baby,” Sonny smiles, “I appreciate your concern but it ain’t somethin’ you can help me with.”

You look at him as he takes a seat in his swivel-chair, and that feeling in your stomach returns. Butterflies, you remember your mom telling you when you were younger, that you’d get butterflies when you liked someone.

Bile rose in your throat with shame.

“You know, I can help with whatever it is. I’m… y’know, older. I’m not little anymore, I’m big.”

Sonny chuckled, smile lines reaching his eyes. “Oh yeah? You’re a big kid?”

“Yup,” you say defiantly, crossing your arms. You notice the twinkle of curiosity in his eye, curious at just how grown up you’ve really become.

“Maybe you’re right.” He smiles at you. In his eyes, you will always be his little angel. No matter how old you get.

Sonny took a second to think, and then he set down his pen. It was a present from Mr. Barba—you had met him when you were younger, often being plopped in his office when your mom wanted to go out for brunch with her friends and your dad worked as a Detective.

“Let me ask ya somethin’, kiddo. Father t’child.” He clears his throat, “N’ you don’t need’a answer, s’totally within your right not to.”

You looked at him, waiting for his question.

“You ever had sex before?”

It was a personal question. You had just turned the legal age to drink alcohol and you barely did that. Sex was something you had only ever done once, and it wasn’t as pleasant as some of the videos you’ve seen.

“Once,” you couldn’t meet his eyes. “It wasn’t good,” you tell him honestly.

“Yeah? Tell me ‘bout that.” And he flicked his file shut and leaned forward on his elbows on his desk. His attention was on you, fully.

“He just… touched me, really. And then he just put it in me and finished.” You put your hands on your bare knees out of nervousness.

“You didn’t… ?”

You shook your head, no. In all the videos you’ve seen, both participants orgasmed and they made it look so good, like it felt amazing. You told him about how it started, how he kissed you and put his hand down your pants and how it all felt so rushed, and when it came to the actual sex; all you had felt a discomfort as the guy who was on top of you pushed inside you and you felt pain, and it rarely felt good.

And your Dad scoffed. “Don’t let boys like that d’that to ya, ain’t right.”

“But I… “ you swallowed, “… maybe I could help you?”

Sonny frowned, confused. “Help me? What do you mean?”

“You could have sex with me.”

Your bold statement was enough to have his eyebrows jump to the top of his forehead, and his mouth hang open slightly in shock. He stood and rounded his desk, closing his open door and flicking the lock, then closing his blinds. “Doll, you can’t say that in the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“S’fine, just… I’m ya dad,” he started and leaned against the table before you. “Shouldn’t be thinkin’ ‘bout me like that, it’s not right.”

He shamed you into silence, and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

Never in his life did he ever think he would fuck you. Always so keen on raising you to be the smart, level-headed kid you could be. He spent his life’s work going to work to put men away doing exactly what he was about to do.

He put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. Then after a beat, he took his hands off his face and looked at you.

“Doll— I’m gonna help ya out too, okay? Make my lil’ angel feel good. Don’t want ya to be an inexperienced adult,” he says carefully, leaning off from his table and stepping towards you.

“Are you sure? I-I mean, you and mom are having problems and—“

“Stop talking ‘bout ya mom,” he says before capturing your lips in a mesmerizing kiss. Your lips tingle with the force of his lips on yours, his hand coming to cup the back of your head. You kissed him back when he didn’t pull back, and he licked into your mouth and your sigh came out along with a moan.

You felt him smile into the kiss. “Does kissin’ me feel good?”

You swallowed, your eyes shaky as you kept your eyes on your dad. He was so close to you, leaning over you and your lips still touching. “It… it’s better than my other kisses.”

Sonny cocked his head and his eyes glanced down to your black cotton shorts, biting his lip at the lewd thoughts running through his head. He allowed his fingers to trace the band of your shorts and inch them down just a bit. “‘M just more… experienced, that’s what ya need.”

“y—you?”

And that was exactly right. That’s what you needed. Your Daddy.

He kissed you again, but this time it was to take his time and to memorise your taste, to learn the sounds you made when something felt good—and you made these little high pitched sounds—squeaks—when he kissed you harder, pushing you against the back of the leather couch.

He broke the kiss temporarily to place both of his large hands on your hips. “Ain’t gonna make ya do somethin’ ya don’t want to, baby,”

Sonny knew the risks, even as lust clouded his brain. Engaging in incest in the courthouse with his own child was one risk, but ruining your relationship with him was another. He would hate to ruin things with his only child; to have to run back to Amanda and her fatherless children just to play ‘happy family’ again.

“I—I want it,” you whimpered, “I— I want to do… this with you.” and you meant it. Your feelings for your Dad had only grown so much more since he put his lips on yours and kissed you properly.

Sonny groaned and bit his lip, his cock swelling. “Say it again, baby.” his voice was low, enough to be a growl.

Your body shook with adrenaline and nervousness. You held your breath as his big, warm hands ghosted over your soft, smooth skin.

Your Dad slipped his fingertips into the band of your shorts and pulled down your little lounge shorts the rest of the way, pulling them over your sneakers and letting them drop to the floor. The only thing between you two was your flimsy underwear, and he could see a very clear wet spot dampening the fabric.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” he said and the tip of his finger prodded the damp patch. He didn’t miss your gasp, how your hips jutted upwards in need and selfish want. If he had his way he would take his time. Sink to his knees, shove his mouth in your pussy and taste his little kiddo’s juices.

Your Dad saw your nervous expression, and it took him until only then to realise that this would be the first proper sex experience you would have (with your own father, at that, it’s probably making you feel under pressure to do good.)

“Hey… “ he cupped your burning cheek, “s’okay… d’you wanna see mine first? just t’make you feel better?”

You nodded carefully, soon enough leaning into the palm of his hand. He tapped your cheek before he took his hand and put it to his belt, undoing the buckle and pulling it through the hoops and letting it drop to the floor beside your cotton pyjama shorts. His long, deft fingers went to his fly and unzipped it, then he pulled out his cock out from inside his dress pants. Your eyes were glued to the large appendage and you swallowed your saliva in nervousness.

Sure, you had only seen one penis before, but it was tiny, shriveled— nothing like your dad’s long, curved cock. It was not hard enough to stay up, flaccid only just enough that it dangled between his thighs.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded again; “uh huh,” and you couldn’t find the strength to take your eyes off him.

His blue eyes bore into yours as his fingers nudged your underwear, a similar situation to his removal of your shorts.

“This okay, doll?” he asked. Once you began to nod, he slid your undies all the way down. The cool air of your dad’s office hit your sensitive little pussy and you shivered, earning a smile from your dad.

“Don’t worry, doll. S’cold, same thing happens to me,” he gestures, and you look down right at your own dad’s hard cock.

“Can—can I touch it?” You asked. It was hard to believe that you were made from that, that at one point just over twenty years ago, you had come out of him and it was just staring right back at you.

“Sure.” Sonny smiled, and he took your hand and helped you wrap your small fingers around him in a light grip. The sudden pressure alone was enough to make him grumble deep in his chest.

In the videos you had seen on the internet, you knew how to copy hand movements—so you moved your hand up and down his cock, slowly, testing the waters. You didn’t see it, but the man who made you; his head tipped backward at the feeling of your hand squeezing his cock.

“does it—does this feel good?”

“Kid, you got no fuckin’ idea.” He groans and he looks down at you, cock barely an inch away from your innocent face. “N’ expert,” he praises.

After a while, his need to be inside you grew by each passing second. Your pussy was bare on the leather, making a small clear puddle of your arousal on the worn leather of his couch.

“S’enough, baby.” and he took your hand off his hard cock, no longer any sort of flaccid, instead as hard as he’s been in years.

You moved yourself so you were leaning back, and he followed you and pulled your hips down—your legs and ass dangling off the couch and his arms supporting you. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy, baby, gonna fuck you deep right here.”

You let out a breathy laugh that was cut short as he forced his tongue in your mouth; working overtime as his hand made its way to your wet pussy and rubbed the seam with his fingers. Gasping into his mouth, moaning lightly (aware of your noise, knowing there were people actually doing their job in the courthouse) as his long fingers stimulated your clit and your little wet hole.

“Makin’ me do things a Daddy shouldn’t do,” he growled, “you eva’ touch yourself like this? ‘magining your Dad gettin’ you ready for his cock? huh? little baby?”

You never once imagined what his dirty talk would be like, so filthy in your ear. But he was right, there had been a few times you’ve imagined him touching you late at night. Disgusting thoughts that clouded your mind in the devil's hour.

He was so quick but gentle, giving you attentive kisses and soothing your nerves as he prepared you to take your dad’s cock.

You whined when you felt his hard cock bump against your inner thigh, eyebrows furrowing. His fingers on your clit felt good and his tongue invading your mouth made you drool.

Sonny peeked down to where his erect cock was positioned between your legs. For a single second, he hesitated—it was as if his mind came back to him.

He can’t do this, it isn’t right—he’s your father. The tip of his cock leaked a stray tear of pre-cum and his cock throbbed in his grip. Your pussy was right there, barely an inch away from pushing inside your tight little hole, and he knew the minute he pushed inside you, he would never be able to stop.

Already imagining the next time he’ll get to fuck you. Maybe later on in the night, sneaking into your room while your mom slept and clamping a hand over your mouth while he finally got to taste your pussy.

His thoughts left him the second they rushed through his mind, and he pushed his hips forward and the tip of his cock notched your wet hole and his fingers stopped rubbing you, settling on a slow rhythm.

Your arm snaked around his neck and pulled him impossibly close to you as he pushed his cock inside you. Your mouth was tight against the fabric of his dress shirt, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of him breached you.

There was still an inch of him hidden beneath his slacks, the cons of having a quickie in his office is that he couldn’t push the entirety of himself inside you. He was fully clothed in a three piece suit he couldn’t just remove very easily.

Your own father’s cock inside you, the same cock that made you was inside you. And that kept running through your mind.

But for the most part, he was fully inside you. And your thighs trembled and shook at the fact your Dad was inside you.

“S’okay… s’okay—“ Sonny choked as he turned his head so he could mumble against the side of your lips. “Just hold onto daddy.”

And you did, your little fingers digging into his shoulder blade as he gave an experimental light thrust of his hips and he groaned, it came deep from his throat and his hand tight on your thigh spread your leg wider as he fucked his cock into you, finding his rhythm inside you.

“Takin’ ya dad’s cock so fuckin’ well.”

Your pussy clenched on him at his words. Reminding you that he wasn’t some guy from work—that you were falling apart on your dad’s cock.

“J—Jesus, d—dad,” you moaned and bit onto his shirt for some sort of stability. His cock was pumping inside you and your bare thighs were met with the soft fabric of his dress pants, muffling what would’ve been harsh, wet slaps of flesh meeting in a selfish hurry. “F—feels so good.”

If you were worried about his co-workers hearing what was happening inside his office before, you definitely weren’t now. Muffling your moans in his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as the pressure in your pussy built and built with the faint pain of the tip of his cock thumping against your cervix.

“D—dad,” you gasped, “f—fuck, I’m—o—oh my g—god, it—“

Sonny pressed his forehead against yours once more, murmuring against your lips, “gonna cum, baby? Cummin’ already on ya daddy’s cock?”

He could tell by with how your fingers dug into his shoulders, how he could feel the drool you had left behind on his chest and with how fucking tight your pussy was gripping him; getting tighter by the second, almost trying to push his cock out of you.

His thumb worked harder on your hard clit, pressing down and circling in harder circles. Where his hand was, your pussy was so wet, dripping onto the couch like a burst pipe and covering his dress pants (and he thanked Barba for telling him to always keep a spare suit in his office, in case of emergencies. And fucking his own flesh and blood child to oblivion and back was one of them.)

“D—dad—daddy—dad,” you babbled against his soft lips, “can I—p—please?”

Oh, how sweet. You asked permission, always a polite kid. He wonders who taught you that—your manners, that is, and it was him. Your mom would’ve raised you to be a bully if he didn’t get there when he did.

His cock fucked harder into you and as a result it had the top of your head hitting the soft cushion and your moans grew louder but were still muffled into his shoulder.

“C’mon, baby, please fuckin’ cum—need’a feel it, honey, let ya dad feel ya cum—“

Sonny’s words spurred you on, his thumb rubbing hard circles on your clit and his cock pounding into the very end of you was just enough to set you over and you came all over his cock with a muffled squeal, eyes clenched painfully shut and your arms pulled him impossibly closer to you. Your pussy tightened almost painfully on his cock and the pressure was just enough to push him out, but his greedy cock fought against it and and pushed and fucked you through your first orgasm by a cock.

Little squirts of liquid left your pussy and splattered on his dress pants, not enough to turn heads if anyone walked in, but enough to make your Dad moan like a whore.

“That’s it—what a good fuckin’ kid, doin’ as you’re told—makin’ me feel so good.”

You weren’t your mother—you were his perfect little angel that he made himself, in his image. And that alone was enough to convince himself not to pull out—if there were consequences of his actions, he’d allow those consequences with open arms.

Not even a second later, you felt his cock pump inside you harder and faster—then you felt the vibration of his deep, throaty groan against you and felt the warm spurts of his pent up cum inside you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That felt fuckin’ good,” he groaned and tipped his forehead onto your shoulder, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his orgasm inside you.

He felt better than he had in a long time. He just now realised he didn’t need your mother, he never did. As long as he had you, he had an obedient little kiddo to take their daddy’s big cock. He knew you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to show your dad how grown up you really were.

It took him a minute to pull out of you, your pussy gripping him and milking him for everything he has and he didn’t want to leave the hot, wet pussy that he took part in making. Fuck, that thought alone was enough to give a hard twitch into his softening cock. But when he did, his cum spilled out with him and onto the already wet leather of the couch.

“Look’a that, baby, look how much you milked outta me—greedy little thing,” and his hand smoothed over your thigh to insert a finger into your sore and spent pussy, plugging his cum back inside you. Your hole clenching around him, even more so when his thumb takes place back on your oversensitive clit.

“D—dad,” you gasped and put your hand on his wrist. “That—“

“‘Know what it is, honey,” and he leaned over to grab your underwear and slid them back up your legs, back where they once were before he decided to fuck you in his office of law. Patting your now clothed pussy, he stood on shaky legs and tucked himself away.

He leaned back down to press his lips to yours, “done me real proud, kiddo, think you deserve a nice nap, huh?” he spoke as he nuzzled his nose with your own and you smiled, lazily biting your bottom lip.

“Still feels like you’re inside,” you say in a whisper.

“Means I fucked ya too good,” and he kisses your nose and then your lips—as if it was second nature. “Now get some sleep, I’ll wake ya for lunch.”

—-

At the dinner table that night, the tension was thick. Your dad had slaved away on the stove making a chicken dish, (with your ‘help’, after the events of earlier in the day, you became so clingy, wanting to be beside him if he couldn’t be inside you) but your mom wanted steak and that was enough for her to give him disrespectful comments on how it tasted, how she preferred her best friends husband’s steak casserole compared to Sonny’s Italian ‘chicken-thing’.

His hand settled on your thigh beneath the table, Your hand was over his, entangling your fingers together.

[dirtyknots]

The Family That Plays Together

SO! I wrote a thing at some point in the last year and I do not honestly remember when I wrote it or whether I was going to add more before I posted it, but instead I’ve tossed it into the ether as an unfinished but hopefully will be ongoing fic on AO3: The Family That Plays Together Please make sure you read the tags!

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[toxicanonymity]

How about (dbf?) Joel sharing you with Tommy? I know I always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower 🫣

Tommy's hard day (free use)

3k / darkish!Joel x fem!reader x darkish!Tommy

Joel master list: free use section

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. free use, dubcon (pressure/gray area) blow jobs, MFM threesome w/ Tommy & Joel Miller, cucking, unprotected P in V, creampie, Pre or non-outbreak.

A/N: Shout-out to multiple Joel & Tommy Anons incl. under-table Anon, and @milla-frenchy, sorry if I'm leaving anyone off lmk.

🖤

“Lookin’ good tonight, baby."

Joel says that almost every night. He takes a sip of his Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, puts down the bottle, and rolls up his sleeves.  He leans back in his chair.  You steal a glance at his bicep flexing, straining his shirt as his arm moves slowly under the table. You’re doing dishes in the kitchen wearing a thin, cotton sundress he bought you with sunflowers on it.  

Joel lifts his hips to unbutton and unzip his jeans.  When he's done he picks up his beer again and his other hand beckons you with a finger as he takes a sip. When he puts it back down, he pushes his chair back a few inches from the table, and you know what that means. You're salivating for it. You wash your hands and smile at him knowingly.  He doesn’t return the smile, but you see it in his eyes as they follow you to the table.  

You come around his chair, walking between Joel’s seat and the door to the garage.  You put one hand on the back of the chair and one on the table and bend your knees. 

“Wait a minute, c’mere,” he says softly and slides a hand up the back of your leg under your dress.  He palms your ass, then rotates you toward him. He swings his legs around to face you and makes room for you between them.  Both his hands rub your thighs and ass, and he nuzzles his face into your breasts as you finger his hair. He kisses your nipples through your dress - no bras in this house - moaning into the cotton as he keeps groping your behind. He smacks your ass and says, “Okay, baby,” then turns back around to face the table. 

You get on the floor between his knees. His work boots and jeans are dusty with cement mix. He hasn't showered or changed since he got home from work. His big, veiny hand holds his cock for you to take.  He's already fully hard for you as you wrap your hand around it and inhale his musk. You lick the underside from his balls to the tip and he sighs softly.  Then you take him into your mouth, immediately sucking in half his shaft. You suck him as far as you can, getting his whole cock wet. The tip inches briefly into your throat - you can't do that for long since it barely fits. You start by bobbing your head halfway down his shaft and work the bottom with your hand. 

-

You’ve only been at it for a minute when the front door opens and you stop.  “You’re not gonna believe this shit,” Tommy booms. 

You freeze, but Joel mutters, “Don’t stop, baby,” and brings a comforting hand to your head.  “What happened?” Joel yells.  Tommy’s boots thud as he gets closer. You’re facing the opposite direction so you can’t see him, and the other chairs at the table hopefully block him from seeing you. Joel’s fingers lightly nudge your head and you resume sucking him off.   Tommy goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge.  

“It’s her goddamn doctor,”  Tommy says incredulously as he opens a bottle of beer.  Apparently, Maria has been cheating on him.  

“Damn.  Fucked up,” Joel says.

Tommy pulls out a seat from the table and sits down.  His feet are dangerously close to yours. You scoot closer to Joel.  You freeze again and Joel’s fingertips pull you back down on his cock.  You slowly, quietly continue your work.  

“Can you believe that?” Tommy says. “What do I do here? What would you do?” He’s so preoccupied with his marital agony that he hasn’t noticed anything amiss at all. Joel leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, his belly nudging your head as he grabs his beer then sits back. 

“What would I do?" Joel repeats. 

"Nah, she would never,” Tommy says about you. “You dunno how lucky you are, Joel.  A woman like that? So loyal, too.” He sounds genuine. “She’s a good girl, Joel.” 

“No shit,” Joel says. 

Encouraged by Tommy’s praise and Joel’s agreement, you suck Joel more thirstily, taking him deeper into your mouth, then your throat, sucking hard.  Joel leans back and takes a deep breath, then exhales "fuck."

Tommy mirrors Joel’s body language, leans back in his chair and stretches his feet out.  And his boot hits your bare foot. “Sorry,” he says, assuming he hit Joel. 

“For what?”Joel asks.  Then Tommy casually looks under the table.  

“Fuck me,” Tommy whispers. “What the fuck, man?” As if you can’t hear him. 

“Ya didn’t knock, ring the doorbell. . . “ Joel says.  Tommy starts to get up. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“Sit down,”Joel tells him quietly and you can imagine Joel’s stare when he does it. He’s so dominant, so quietly imposing.  He doesn't have to tell Tommy twice, but Joel continues, “Stay a while. Know it's been a hard day."

You look up at Joel and he winks at you.  He’s asked you before how you’d feel about Tommy watching.  You dared to ask why Tommy.   Joel said Tommy’s harmless.  What that really meant was Tommy’s not a threat.  Joel is so confident in his dominance and control over both of you that he doesn’t have to worry at all. 

Tommy says, “So, uh. . .” having lost his whole train of thought. 

Joel takes a deep, contemplative breath.  

“Tell ya what, go sit in my chair, take a load off. Be in there in a minute.”  Joel nods toward the living room. Tommy takes his beer with him.  

Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as he stands up and mutters, “sorry” again.  His boots thud across the linoleum then disapper onto the carpet. 

Joel’s voice is low and soft.  “He’s had a bad day, baby. Why don't ya give'm some sugar?” 

“What?” you ask, your face heating up.  

Joel makes a fist and sticks his tongue in his cheek pantomiming a blow job.

You’re hesitant - what if Joel ends up getting jealous?

“Just this once baby,” he whispers.  “Hot for me to see a different angle.”  

You don’t hate the idea of having another man’s cock in your mouth, and this might be your only chance.  But most of all, you love pleasing Joel. So if this is what he wants, you’ll do it. 

"Go on,” Joel says and nods toward the living room.

-

Joel doesn’t bother putting his dick away when he pushes back from the table and stands up. He walks into the living room and sits down on the sofa.  He’s hung and he’s proud.  Tommy tries not to look at Joel’s equipment but his eyes go wide and he looks away. 

You smooth your dress as you emerge from under the table and head toward the living room.  Joel is manspreading with his hard cock in his hand, sending a pang of desire through your chest to your core.  It occurs to you this may be a rare occasion to see or at least hear Joel jack off, too.  Normally you take care of all his needs, but it’s so sexy when he does it himself. 

“Look, I caught you at a bad time, man,” Tommy says to Joel when he sees you joining them.  He assumes you're headed for Joel, and he starts to stand up.

“Sit down,” Joel tells him again. Joel looks at you with those pretty brown eyes and nods toward Tommy.  You approach Tommy in Joel's chair then look back at Joel.  

“Go on,” Joel says.  You nudge Tommy's legs apart on the sturdy ottoman and push it flush with the chair.  His legs slide off to either side of it, spread wide. He's dumbfounded, frozen. You kneel on the ottoman. This gives you more of an overhead angle than you had under the table with Joel.  You've knelt here and sucked Joel off in this chair plenty of times.

“Whoa, Joel, this is –” 

First you feel him through his pants.  He’s semi-hard. 

“Don’t be rude, Tommy. Help her with your pants.”

Tommy still hesitates, like he thinks it’s a trap. You sense Joel’s going to get pissed if Tommy doesn’t get on with it, so you help him.  “Good girl,” Joel tells you from the sofa. The armchair is roughly perpendicular to the sofa, but a few feet away. Joel has a back corner view.

You sit back on your heels.  Tommy’s heart is racing, you can see his heartbeat through his shirt.  His shallow breaths make you nervous for him.  “Joel, I feel like you’re gonna snap out of it and kill me for this.” Tommy still hasn’t addressed you directly.  

“Won’t kill ya,” Joel says with an eye roll. "Promise. . .But come on, let’s go already."  He spits in his hand to supplement your saliva.

You brace your arms on Tommy’s thighs and take his cock out.  It's pretty nice - of course it is, he's a Miller.  To you, it's not nearly as commanding as Joel's, but you know you're biased. They're just different. Tommy isn't as girthy. You're not sure about length. Tommy's has virtually no visible veins. You look back at Joel to see how he's doing. He looks smug. "Go on, baby."

You wrap your lips around Tommy’s tip and he inhales sharply.  He puts his beer on the end table and digs his fingers into the plush arms of the chair for dear life.  You suck down on his shaft and he comes to full mast in your mouth.  He tastes different, too.  Blander and not as salty.  Tommy looks straight up at the ceiling, not wanting to see Joel or Joel’s cock.  Tommy occasionally glances down at you, but you never make eye contact.  Meanwhile, Joel isn’t looking at Tommy, just you.  The way your body is curled in on itself in your sunflower dress and how pretty your mouth looks wrapped around a Miller cock.  

“You’re so damn hot, baby," Joel says as he strokes himself. You keep sucking Tommy, aroused by the sounds of Joel jacking off.  He spits in his hand again.  You pretend it’s Joel in your mouth, but your jaw isn’t getting sore like it normally would.  You flex your toes then covertly slide a heel between your legs for friction as you listen to Joel jerk off.  Joel sighs, then the springs of the sofa creak as he stands up from it. 

-

Joel makes his way over to you.  You can feel him getting closer.  You move your heel out from under yourself lest he think you’re trying to get off with Tommy.  Joel presses his hard cock against the back of your bare shoulder, making your clit twitch. You freeze with the head of Tommy’s cock in your mouth. “It’s okay, baby," Joel says. “You look hot with a cock in your mouth.” 

This is starting to feel surreal. Joel grabs at your breast and you leave your arms on Tommy's thighs as Joel plays with your nipple.  Joel nudges you up on your knees, then lifts your dress up, leaving it pulled up over your ass. He steps back and inhales deeply at the sight, then his thick fingers slide against your wet cunt, sending a bolt of arousal through you.  Joel starts working your clit like only he can, making you wetter.  When he dips a finger into you to check, he mutters, "good girl."  You’re ready for him. 

The firm head of Joel's cock nudges your entrance. He wiggles it forward, notching it for entry. His large hands grip your hips. He pulls you back toward his clothed thighs and plunges his hard cock into you with a sigh, the momentum pushing your head forward on Tommy’s cock as your body adjusts to Joel's girth.  Tommy gasps at the jolting sensation, still looking at the ceiling.

Joel retreats then plunges into you again, to the hilt, almost gagging you on Tommy’s cock as  your ass slams into his jeans, held up only by their tightness.  Each time Joel fills you up, his strong hands pull you back, your ass pushes back into him on its own, too.  Joel grunts unrestrained as if it’s just the two of you – even more than usual, really.  The sounds of Joel’s pleasure always turn you on.  You’re getting wetter and wetter around Joel's cock as he rails into you.  You give up on controlling your rhythm on Tommy’s cock and let the force of Joel’s thrusts do it all. Tommy tries not to make noise, but he breathes heavily and the occasional sigh slips out. Joel sighs loudly as he slams his length into you. 

“That’s my good girl,” Joel murmurs.  “Always tight 'n wet”  He sighs and groans softly. 

"S'weird, man," Tommy says to the ceiling.  

Joel doesn't reply, but he does lean forward and stretch his arms out, putting a hand on each of your shoulders for leverage.  He fucks you harder, vocalizing and breathing louder.  You gag only because of the force and your nose is smashed into Tommy's public bone.

Joel buries his length deep inside you, hitting the right spot, pushing an obscene moan out of you and onto Tommy's dick. Joel freezes, all the way inside you. 

That's enough, baby," he mutters.  Joel seems to have no issue with Tommy's cock in your mouth, but apparently can't stand to hear you moaning into it. 

Joel reaches forward and firmly wraps his hand around the nape of your neck where it meets your shoulders.  He pulls your head off Tommy’s cock, wraps his other arm around your front, and gropes a breast as he pulls you up. 

Tommy starts jerking off feverishly.  You don’t dare to look right at him, but you can see him.  You feel the fear in his eyes boring into you,  like he wants to finish and get out before Joel kills him. 

-

"To the left," Joel directs you.  Without pulling out, he rotates you on the ottoman so you're not looking at Tommy. Joel’s arms are wrapped around you with one hand between your legs and one across your breasts. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he fucks you.  He grabs your tit and strokes your clit.  He doesn't often bother.  He doesn't often need to,  but the nerves have gotten to your head in this case.  And Joel’s not going to fuck his wife in front of someone without making her come.  He nibbles at your neck - the side away from Tommy - and murmurs, "ya did good.”  His voice is low, gruff, and quiet. He rails into you faster.  “Now come for me, baby.” 

Without the preoccupation of an unfamiliar cock in your mouth, your orgasm builds rapidly.  But not as fast as Tommy's.  Tommy comes with a stifled groan and you avoid looking in his direction, as hot as it is to watch a man come.  

Joel pistons into you faster and you feel like you might burst.  His hands feel so good when he's chasing your pleasure.  Surprisingly, you don’t really want this to end.  But your end is in sight.  You don't know if Joel wants you to be quiet or not, so you act natural.  You let the sighs flow out of your lungs with Joel's big cock filling you up on the edge of climax. Joel softly bites down and moans into your neck.  Your spine arches, you gasp, then say "Jo-" but cut yourself off with moan and he releases your neck from his mouth. 

"Yeah, baby," he growls quietly.  “Come on my cock.” 

Joel holds you steady as you unravel in his arms, moaning his name. You savor his arms tightening around you. 

Joel pants "Love you, baby," cock still railing into you.  Then he erupts inside you, pulsing massively.  You’re still coming, contracting around his shaft, your peak intensified by his own pulsations.  His arm and hand press your breasts into your body as he empties his balls and you savor each pump.  When he stops moving, you lean back into him, spent. He hugs you and kisses you tenderly on the neck.  

Out of the corner of your eye, Tommy tucks his dick away.  Joel pulls out of you and puts your dress back down. "Go clean up," he tells you, then gives you a kiss on the lips with an intense affection in his eyes.  You don't make eye contact with Tommy and you still haven’t spoken to each other. 

You go upstairs to take a shower. That was wild, but you didn't hate it. You got to hear Joel jack off, and it was special the way he paid so much attention to your pleasure. He touched you for you, not just for him.  It’s hot in its own way when he touches you for his own pleasure, but there was something about feeling him being so focused on yours. It’s not that it never happens, but it’s not very often, and never with such urgency.  He also talked much more than usual.  You hadn’t heard him like that in a couple of years.

With Tommy watching, Joel did all the things you thought you didn't need.  As much as Joel's cock does for you--and it does a lot--you're remembering that it can be even better.  You don’t want to end the free use. It turns you on, thinking about him taking you at any moment.  But you wonder if there’s a way to have Joel be like this just a little more often.

-

Meanwhile, Joel stuffs himself back in his pants and collapses onto the sofa to relax. Tommy stands up nervously to leave, unsure if he should thank Joel or what.

"Where ya goin'?" Joel asks, like nothing just happened. "You wanna tell me 'bout Maria? Want another beer?"

-

Thank you so much for your engagement and support! Please check your content settings and consider following me if you wanna make sure you see my stuff. You can always click "MY FICS" in my profile header if you wanna see what "actual content" you missed chronologically.

-

@ireadwithmyears

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore

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[dmsr-art]

it's really funny seeing new readers bitch about the existence of campal fics in the main tags while not saying a PEEP about the tridentarii. dawg what are u even doing

[prettyboykatsuki]

found family incest can be so much grosser than other kinds it's soooo there

[kookyburrowing]

some of you will really look at a group of people who regularly refer to each other as siblings and have close relationships with each other and are literally genetically identical and go “but it’s not incest because there’s so many of them!” girl there are a great many royals in europe and yet that is very much still incest.

[faustiantales]

𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐

Dark Descent: Shuntaro Chishiya X fem/afab!Reader

Twisted Truths: incest, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal penetration, squirting, creampie, pet names

Synopsis: As Shuntaro was studying late in the night, a certain person came in search of his help. And that person is none other than his sweet, little sister.

Shadows Lengthen: 1.8k words

        "Oniichan..."

        A needy whimper filled the blonde man's ears, pausing his study to glance at the person who entered his room in the middle of the night. There, standing by the entrance was his beloved little sister. Her face was scrunched up in dissatisfaction, a frown settled on her lips and her eyebrows creased slightly.

        Shuntaro turned his swivel chair to face her, dropping his reading glasses on the desk. "Come here."

        Right away, the girl waddled to her older brother. As if on instinct, she climbed on top of him on the chair, legs on either side as she sat on his lap, facing him. The man's lips curved up, resting his hands on her hips while staring up at her.

        "What's the matter, sweetie?" he cooed, leaning up to plant a short kiss on her lips. It wasn't long before another one followed it. He continued like this for a few more moments, relishing the feeling of his sister's soft skin under his touch as he kissed her.

        Once she pulled away, he stared back at her with an expectant expression. She looked down at him, still pouting, but her eyes had softened from their initial irritation. "I'm wet and tingly."

        "Is that so?" he hummed, the corner of his eyes crinkled up with amusement. "And what does this have anything to do with me?"

        It took only a split second for Shuntaro to catch a glimpse of his sister's reddening cheeks. His expression shifted to be one of delight, and he let out a chuckle. With a swift movement, his fingers lifted the white nightdress that covered her lower half. And just like she said, her underwear was stained with wetness that can barely seen in the dim lighting of the room.

        He chuckled again at the sight, letting his hand drift down her sides to rest on the exposed expanse of her stomach. She blushed harder, her eyes widening slightly when Shuntaro's hand trailed lower. Then, just as she had expected, his slender digits pressed against her core, feeling the wetness against the fabric.

        "Onii...chan..." she mewled, instinctively pushing against his finger for more friction. That didn't stop his fingers from pressing even harder into the slick wetness between her legs, teasingly rubbing the tip of his index finger inside. She moaned softly, her eyes slipping shut. "Please..."

        He smiled smugly at the sound of her beg, knowing full well that he could use that to get her going. When she started begging, it was hard not to comply; she was too beautiful to deny. So Shuntaro did exactly what she asked. Without warning, his fingers slid inside of her, his digit sliding against her slit.

        She arched into his hand, a loud groan escaping her throat. Shuntaro couldn't resist the urge to add another finger inside, now massaging the already wet place that made her squirm beneath his fingers.

        "Does this feel good to you?" he whispered, moving his hand away from her core to cup her chin. "Are you excited?"

        His question seemed to answer her need to climax and she nodded enthusiastically, opening her mouth to let out a high-pitched moan as his fingers slipped deeper. Shuntaro smirked at the sight, his tongue darting out to lick his lips slowly. He leaned forward, capturing her lips with his, letting her taste herself on his tongue. He loved the way she tasted — salty and sweet.

        After several minutes of making out with his sister, he broke away. She looked like she was about ready to burst; her breathing was ragged and her eyes were glazed over with lustful desire. Her skin flushed red from her arousal and Shuntaro knew that there would be bruises in the morning. The thought gave him an evil pleasure.

        "Good," he murmured in approval, stroking her cheeks. She smiled sleepily at him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You want more, don't you? How about giving your Oniichan a midnight snack before I indulge myself fully? I need a break from studies, after all."

        Regaining her energy, the girl nodded excitedly and jumped off him. She went straight to his bed and prepared pillows. Then, she settled by the edge of the bed, her nightgown hiked up until her bare breast and she removed her wet undergarment, leaving nothing but her pink, fluffy, folds waiting to be devoured. Shuntaro watched fondly as the girl spread her legs open wider, baring her smooth inner thighs to his hungry gaze.

        "Such a beautiful thing for me," he marveled, walking closer to inspect her cunt. The traces of slickness left behind on her inner thigh caused a delicious shiver to run through his body, one that made his cock twitch with longing for his little sister to be pleasured.

        He knelt in front of her core, inhaling the sweet scent coming from it as his hands caressed her silky soft skin. He leaned forward, kissed her swollen clit, and licked the rim of her vagina before licking his lips clean. He closed his eyes and savored her sweetness, humming contently.

        Shuntaro opened his mouth to swallow down the small piece of flesh in his mouth, biting lightly to tease her. He then gently sucked the sensitive area, making sure to leave enough saliva and juices on the surface. The girl bit her lip, allowing him to consume her. She let out a low moan, which spurred Shuntaro to continue.

        He continued to play with her until she reached her peak, and then Shuntaro moved on to her clit. This time, he flicked his tongue around her sensitive clit, teasing the tight bud repeatedly until it became so sensitive that it throbbed in response. At some point, Shuntaro's tongue also traveled between her labia and rubbed the swollen flesh in circles, causing her to bite down on her lower lip in pleasure.

        "O-oniichan! Gonna cum!" she mewled, arching her back in pure pleasure. Her orgasm came almost immediately, and he grinned.

        "Did I please you, precious?" he asked, pulling back slightly and licking the juices coating her rim with satisfaction.

        "Mhm," she managed to nod despite heavy breaths, her glazed-over hues still fixated on her older brother's movements.

        "I think it's time for the main course."

        Shuntaro smirked, his eyes narrowing while he made quick movements to remove his loose pants and underwear. His younger sister watched as his dick was released from its confines and the tip of it glistened in anticipation. She bit her lip, her gaze following the erection, the head glistening in the dim light.

        A blush formed on her cheeks as Shuntaro approached her, bending down slightly so that their faces were level. Inhaling deeply, he brushed her lips with his own and began kissing her hungrily, thrusting his tongue deep into her moist mouth to make up for the lack of a proper kiss earlier.

        He pushed himself into her slowly, savoring the feel of her warmth. Wanton moans escaped his sister's precious lips, which he devoured with his needy kiss. He kept his rhythm slow as he pumped himself inside his sister, the sounds of their panting filling his dark room. Their tongues danced together feverishly in a sensual dance; soon their breathing grew heavy, but they ignored any discomfort they may have felt at that moment in time.

        "So...tight... So...warm... So perfect..." he pulled away for a breather from their passionate kiss, his hips keeping a steady rhythm.

        Squelches from their lovemaking reverberated around the room, and the pleasure was building rapidly. The way his dick stretched her insides, the way he fucked her with such force and urgency, Shuntaro had never done something like this with anyone else but always had the best sex with his sister. His cock hardened further and his face scrunched up in pleasure. The longer he buried himself inside of his sister, the faster and deeper he thrust into her, increasing his pace each time.

        His fingers curled around her breast and squeezed, bringing forth a soft cry from his sister. He continued to pump his member deep inside of her, the feeling of his hot girth stretching her insides causing her muscles to tighten around him.

        Shuntaro continued to fuck her, his mouth moving from her breasts to nip the curve of her neck as his finger worked her nipples while the other one held her hip steady. Her moans turned into whimpers as her fingers gripped the sheets tightly, her nails digging into them. The smell of the sweat clinging to the sheets mingling with the lingering scent of her arousal filled the air.

        "C'mere, baby," he ushered, his lips finding their way back to hers. They locked into another steamy make-out session, the older Chishiya gobbling the younger's cries of pleasure, their saliva dripping down their chin.

        Soon Shuntaro found a good rhythm, slamming into her and continuing to drive himself home without breaking their kiss. He couldn't help but smirk proudly at the noises she uttered—how she completely melted in his arms and clutched his shoulders desperately, how she cried out when her orgasm hit her, the fact that she couldn't control herself and her voice grew louder.

        As he reached his peak, Shuntaro stilled inside her, his cum shooting out rope after rope inside her warm womb. His hand pressed against her lower abdomen as he then rolled his hips to ride out the afterglow, leaving his sister gasping for air at the overstimulation and pleasure.

        "A-ah! Oniichan! No more!" she begged, her entire body spasming. But her words came out a little muffled, as she struggled to breathe.

        Chuckling softly, he took his hand from her stomach and cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing her cheekbone tenderly. Shuntaro then bent down and kissed her on the forehead tenderly. Despite wanting to have another round, the blonde man heeded his sister's words. After all, he still needed to resume his studies and the girl needed to return to sleep this late at night.

        "Did you enjoy it, sweetheart? That helped with your problem, right?" he cooed softly, pulling out his cock from her wet entrance and watching as the mixture of their cum pooled out beneath her. Shuntaro smirked as he glanced at the stain.

        "Mhm..." she breathed dreamily, her eyes fluttering shut as he wiped the sticky liquid from her inner walls. Once again, she rested on the pillows, resting comfortably and closing her eyes. "Thank you...Oniichan... Love you..."

        "Rest now, my little sister. I love you too," he whispered tenderly, pressing his lips against her temple affectionately. He gazed lovingly at her before cleaning her up and tucking her in his bed for the night.

📜— Return to the Shadowed Archive

[welcomingdisaster]

Things to do When You’re Bored on Thangorodrim

Cry 

Hit the rocks a little 

Regret things 

Cry some more 

Look at the stars and feel inspired 

Hit the rocks some more 

Feel stupid about smashing up your good hand on the rocks 

Try to count the orcs passing underneath 

Give up 

Take a nap 

Feel distantly impressed the orcs are still marching 

Try to count the orcs again 

Do a lot of orc-multiplication in your head 

Realize they’re marching in a circle 

Feel kind of gaslit 

Look up at the stars 

Sing a little ditty (to the stars) 

Watch the orcs leave 

Take a nap 

Nothing, for an unknown amount of time

Try some bird calls

Feel kind of embarrassed about the quality of your bird calls 

Take a nap 

Watch the bats 

Chip off a bit of the rock and toss it in general direction of the bats to trick them into thinking it’s an insect 

Feel kind of satisfied about tricking the bats 

Feel kind of guilty about tricking the bats 

Miss your father

Get pissed at your father. What the fuck, right? 

Take shelter from the rain against the rock wall 

Get wet 

Think about how pretty lightning is 

Regret things 

Cry 

Kick the rock wall 

Chew your nails 

Scold yourself for falling back into bad habits 

Do long division in your head 

Scream 

Nothing, for an unknown amount of time 

Wake up

Look down at the marching orcs 

Think about that one time four hundred years ago you came to court with your robes undone in the back 

Miss your brothers 

Miss your mother 

Miss your father 

Think about how your father’s dead 

Regret things

Wonder what they’re doing back home 

Imagine a lot of lamps, probably 

Think about the making of lamps 

Cry 

Feel kind of stupid about crying re: lamps 

Hope the bats didn’t actually eat the rock you tossed 

Apologize to the bats for tricking them with the rock

Sing a little ditty (to the bats) 

Chew your nails 

Scream 

Kick the rock wall 

More long division 

Invent a new kind of pull-up which involves being chained to a sheer rock face by your right hand and crying a lot 

Watch eagles 

Sing a little ditty (to the eagles) 

Come up with an elaborate story in your head about how the eagles are in love 

Realize the eagles are brothers 

Feel guilty about the story you made up in your head 

Take a nap 

Look up at the stars 

Do your pull up a whole bunch of times 

Lick the rock wall 

Try to remember how to write a villanelle  

Eat a piece of your own skin that peeled off your hand after you hit the rock wall 

Feel gross 

Hope your brothers are coming to get you 

Hope your bothers aren’t coming to get you 

Cry

Swing back and forth on the chain a little 

Sing a little ditty (just in general) 

Wave to the eagles as they return 

Watch eagles 

Try to think of good and pure things while watching the eagles 

Fuck it, incest eagles 

[yennysaysthings]

ngl why cant some dark content creators use the tw tags correctly. like i dont wanna look through the x reader tag to see a dad!character x child!reader 😭

please use regular tw tags (tw incest or wtv) and not some special ones like “tw.incest” like i dont need anymore tags to block 😭😭

[freya-fallen]

Beastly 6/17

CWs: talk about sibling incest, politics. let me know if I ever miss anything

Word count: 2820

Part 1 Part 5 Part 7

The dress is the single fanciest thing you’ve ever worn in your life, and maybe the most expensive, too. Considering the cost of ODM gear, that’s saying something. It’s a pale pink, the skirt and bodice are mostly constructed of a material Zeke calls ‘silk.’ The process of making it apparently involves worms, but you wonder if you’re misunderstanding, and decide to look into it later. There’s a lovely lace overlay on the sleeves and parts of the bodice as well, and it’s wispy and delicate. Ribbon accents and flowery additions make the whole construction look like more of an art piece than something to wear, but Zeke assures it’s a perfectly normal, acceptable dress for an event such as this.

It falls above your ankles, and you have matching shoes a shade or two darker, with the barest hint of heel to give you a lift. That difference makes you nervous, but you walk in them for your brother, and he nods confidently, and say’s you’ll be fine.

“Why is there so much of it?” you ask as he laces you into a corset. It’s a comfortable one, Zeke assures you, the most comfortable one he could find. And since you’re still working on gaining weight, there isn’t much to pull in and shape, as it were. 

You also don’t understand the need for a skirt under your skirt, but it helps the dress stay flared out around your legs, so that’s something. It’s interesting to watch the flowy material move with you. 

“I’m not so good with hair and makeup, sweetheart. Sorry about that.” Your hair is pinned up, but there are none of the flourishes you’ve seen on some of the upper class women the few times you’ve been out. Not that it bothers you; this is already more than you’re comfortable with.

A hint of blush and lipstick are all you put on your face, but Zeke says, “You’re pretty enough without anything, anyway. I just want you to be comfortable.”

You think you’re done, but he grabs your forearm (which is covered in a long, pale glove), and turns you around. Zeke hushes you when you start to ask, “Wha—”

A cool weight settles on your chest, and you look down to find a pearl pendant set in gold. You touch it, feeling the shape of it through the material of the glove.

“There. Now you’re ready.” He stares down at you with something fond and pointed in his expression, something like avarice, though that doesn’t seem quite right. “It’s a shame to have to add this.”

“This” is the armband, for which you proffer your arm. 

Zeke has on a dress uniform. It’s strange enough to see him outfitted so formally, since at home he’s in a button-up and trousers at most. It’s stranger still to see the ribbons and badges of his achievements written across his chest. You often forget your brother is a high ranking member of this country’s military.

“Are you ready, Miss Yeager?”

“Yes, sir.” 

He takes your arm and escorts you out.

You— or, rather, the Warriors— have been allotted a vehicle for the event. It’s a large enough automobile for you and Zeke to fit comfortably, but you can’t imagine how you’ll all make it work.

“They’re already waiting for us, sweetheart.”

You turn to him inquisitively.

“Four passengers and a driver are about all a vehicle like this can carry, so I had them arrive first.

It’s your first time in one of these contraptions, and there’s a roil of nerves in your stomach. Zeke lays a large palm over your knee and rubs his thumbs in small circles to sooth you. When your stomach twists, you must make a face, because he chuckles dryly.

“Figures you would get motion sickness.”

“But I’ve ridden horses dozens of times.”

He smirks. “That’s not quite the same thing. Don’t worry; it’s perfectly normal. And you’ll feel better once we get there.”

It’s a thankfully short ride. Zeke gets out first, after thanking the driver, and assists you out and up. There are few people mingling outdoors, but one or two greet Zeke genially enough. The others are dismissive as soon as they catch sight of the red bands that denote your Eldian blood.

Pieck rushes over as soon as you step inside. Her long hair is back in a neat bun, and her uniform is a little different from Zeke’s, but she looks somehow more authoritative in it despite her diminutive build.

“Oh, just look at you,” she gushes, taking your hand and having you spin to show off your dress. “You look so pretty. A proper young lady, and everything. Pock is gonna have trouble staying grumpy with you around.”

Your brother hones in at the mention of the younger Warrior. “Why would her presence change his mood?”

“You know how he is around pretty girls.” She waves dismissively.  

“Hm.” Zeke steps up to you and lays a hand against your lower back. “Well, he’d better not try anything.”

Your brother guides you further into the large, open room. When someone in generic black and white attire proffers a platter filled with tall glass stemware, Zeke plucks off two and hands one to you. 

“What’s this?” Little bubbles pop and fizz in the pale gold liquid, and it looks like nothing you’ve ever had before.

He smiles. “Sparkling wine. You’ll like it.”

“Alcohol?” You haven’t had much in the past; you’re too young to have had much exposure, and what you’ve managed to try has tasted like piss (so others insisted). You carefully sip from the flute, and the taste is light, refreshing, but sharp. It’s effervescent and sweet, and your tongue tingles from the way it dances on its way down. You swallow another mouthful, and decide that it’s good.

“Don’t drink it all at once, especially before you eat anything,” Zeke warns genially. 

He takes your arm again, steering you through the room as he makes his rounds. “That’s an ambassador from a country in the west. I haven’t met him personally, but I’ve seen his picture in the papers. And that young woman with him is the youngest daughter of the vice chancellor. Oh, that—”

You nod along, but much of the information goes over your head. To your understanding, this is a dinner to show off assets of the Marleyan government to foreign dignitaries. That’s why your brother and the other Warriors are here; the Titans are an intrinsic part of their military might. 

“And this, of course, is Commander Theo Magath.” Zeke brings you to a halt adjacent to a small cluster of important looking older men.

Magath is a man of average height and build, with short dark hair and pale eyes. He turns to Zeke, glancing over you and your brother before greeting, “Chief Yeager.” He nods to Zeke, then says, “And Miss Yeager, it’s good to meet you while you’re awake.”

You frown, which makes Zeke chuckle. “The commander saw you when I brought you off the ship, sweetheart. You were dead asleep in my arms.”

“Oh. Um, well, nice to meet you, sir.” It’s a rote greeting, because you’re blushing and unsure of how to handle this situation.

This is the man who commands your brother and the other Marleyan Warriors. He’s the one who sent Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt to the Walls. He’s a man capable of evaluating young children on whether they should someday die before they’ve had a chance to live. 

He’s also of the same rank as Commander Smith, and he carries his rank in his bearing just like the commander of the scouts, regardless of his smaller stature.

The low ranking soldier instilled through years of training wants to snap into a military mindset, but you’re wary and uncertain, and so you try to keep as neutral as possible.

The old man studies you with a keenness honed through years of practice. “You look well, Miss Yeager. Zeke has been taking care of you, then?”

“Yes, sir,” you respond. “He’s been very good to me.”

Theo Magath nods thoughtfully, then touches your arm above the red band. “You seem to be less undersized than when I saw you last. You must be drinking your milk.”

“I don’t let her skip meals,”Zeke interjects before you think of a reply. It’s strange to feel the touch of someone else, and you’d have thought a Marleyan would be opposed to this interaction with an Eldian. “And I try to make sure she has all the food groups represented.”

“Do you have a family, commander?”

“I’ve always been too busy with my duties,” he says, unperturbed by the personal question. He turns back to Zeke. “Have you met the ambassador from Sava?”

“Can’t say that I have,” your brother responds, and the commander directs his attention to a darker skinned man in a crisp tuxedo.

He’s introduced to Zeke, and you listen to the men for a moment. The Savan ambassador has a lovely accent, and you think you could listen to it all night.

Alas, a familiar figure appears at your elbow and plucks the empty flute from your fingers.

“You should eat something.”

You don’t look at him as you mutter, “Leave me alone, Reiner.”

“Come on, let me take you to find food,” he says, as though  you’re not trying to ignore him. “Zeke.”

Your brother pardons himself to direct his attention to you and the other Warrior. “Good evening, Reiner.”

“I want to take Faye to get something to eat.” The teen indicates your emptied glass. “I don’t think she should be drinking on an empty stomach.”

“That’s mighty thoughtful of you. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You sigh.

“Oh, come now, honey. Reiner is being a gentleman. Go with him for a bit, eh?”

“Fine.” He cups your cheek and favors you with a smile, then hands you off to the junior Warrior.

“So,” Reiner begins as you round a corner toward a long table. It’s filled with foodstuffs, a good half of which are completely unrecognizable to you. 

Your mouth waters as the scents permeate your nose, but you wish you weren’t here with the large blond at your side. “Don’t,” you warn.

He scowls at you and redirects the both of you toward a little area sectioned off by elegant curtains. “What’s your deal?” he demands.

“What do you mean, what’s my deal?” you mock. “You’re a traitor. You betrayed me and the other scouts.”

“No. I was a Warrior first. I was doing my duty.” 

You want to chew your lower lip, but remember the lipstick just in time. “I don’t care.”

“If you don’t care, then why are you so angry?”

“I didn’t say I don’t care about your betrayal, I said I don’t care about you and your stupid Warriors.” Each word is a spat of venom. “Now, please just leave me alone.”

His brows twitch as though unsure of whether to frown or not. “I care about you. I’m worried.”

“That.” You point in his face. “That’s what I mean. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t care about you? That’s a bit hard, especially when Zeke is practically throwing everything in our faces every chance he gets.”

You scoff. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” He pushes in closer, and you can feel his hot breath, smell the wine on it. “You forget that I saw what happened. I know what he did to you.”

“You don’t know anything.”

Reiner tilts your head up, fingers tightening when you try to pull away. “I know you wouldn’t have had sex with him if you’d known who he was.”

“So?” you retort. “Now, I know. You don’t need to keep bringing that up.”

“He knew the whole time, remember? But he still did it.”

You try to push past him, but Reiner is unshakeable as a mountain. His grip doesn’t even waver on your jaw. 

“And the way he’s been acting, I feel like it’s not over.”

You swallow down the wave of terror his words send lancing to your gut. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur, but your denial feels weak as it leaves your tongue.

“He is, isn’t he?” Reiner’s thumb strokes as though to make up for his cruel grasp. “I can help you. I’ll speak to Magath or—”

“Don’t.” Your eyes close against a deluge of heat welling at the corners. “Don’t you dare.” You draw a ragged breath. “Please, Reiner. Just leave it alone.”

His gaze bores into you from so close, and you can feel how it seeks to strip you down despite how your own is closed off and hidden. “He shouldn’t be doing this. You know that, right?”

“He’s my brother,” you entreat. “He’s the only person I have. Please, don’t take that away from me because of your own fears.”

He sighs and steps back, his hand dropping from your face. “Okay. But if you ever change your mind…”

He sounds so defeated. Your eyes bat open and you watch him turn toward the party. “Are you ready to go grab some grub?”

“Sure.” You take his arm and let him lead you back to the long table.

There are small plates of white ceramic on either side. Reiner hands you one and keeps one for himself. He explains what everything is as you reuse the food, what he knows, anyway. There are piles of olives, platters of cheese, little sticks with slices of meat and vegetables held together. There are figs, slices of ruby citrus that glitter like gems, and crackers and breads in neat stacks. You didn’t know there were so many varieties of finger foods, of fillings for sandwiches, or fruit or meat or…

“Now, who is this lovely young lady?”

You turn toward the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It’s dignified and smooth, and fits the person it belongs to perfectly. He’s average height, slim, with long blond hair falling like a curtain, and a neatly trimmed goatee.

Reiner stiffens, and lays a hand on your arm protectively. “Lord Tybur. This is Zeke’s Yeager’s younger sister.” He gives your name almost hesitantly, then adds, “This is William Tybur.” 

The name means nothing to you, but the man is surveying your form with interest written in his clear blue eyes. “I’d thought I could recognize most of the honorary Marleyans by sight, but I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

“No, sir,” you murmur, but you feel so uncomfortable at the title, because you’ve never interacted with nobility. Are you supposed to call him ‘lord’ or something? 

Your uncertainty must show, because he chuckles kindly and extends his hand. “Willy is fine, my dear. While I am an Eldian noble, as an honorary Marleyan, you may overlook the title if you wish.”

Your cheeks flush hotly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—” Your eyes dart to the lack of an armband. “I’m not— I didn’t—”

His expression becomes thoughtful. “You don’t know the Tybur family at all? How unusual. How exactly did that come about?”

“I’m not from here,” you say softly. You’re allowed to talk about this, right? It’s known that Zeke recently traveled to the island, and he never told you you shouldn’t talk about it. “I didn’t know Zeke, either.”

“Ah. A Paradis Eldian. I hadn’t known anyone returned with the Warriors. We must talk sometime, you and I, on affairs within the Walls.” You nod nervously, agreeing just because you don’t know what else to do. “The Tybur family chose to side with Marley, you see, so we’ve been granted certain rights and privileges. I’m sure the two of us could have some fruitful conversations, since my family has been separated from the nobility for a century.”

“I don’t know much about that kind of thing. I’m just a peasant,” you admit, but he smiles.

“I daresay you know more than I do at this point.” He glances at Reinert, who is watching the exchange with keen eyes and a suspicious nature. “Are the two of you an item, then?”

You answer before Reiner opens his mouth, a vehement statement. “No. Reiner just offered to escort me to the food.”

“We met while I was there,” Reiner adds. “We’re close.”

“Not particularly.” You shoot a glare at him.

“If that’s the case, perhaps I could escort you for a bit,” Willy Tybur suggests.

It’s then your brother reappears. “I believe that’s my job, Lord Tybur.” His voice is cool, but not enough to be considered rude. “Thank you for making sure she got food, Reiner.” The younger man nods and steps back for Zeke to take your arm in his. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Oh, okay.” You nod to Reiner and murmur, “Nice to meet you, Lord Tybur— Willy,” blushing as you fumble.

“You as well. Chief Yeager, Braun, I’m sure I’ll see you both again soon.”

[crybaby-bkg]

tw: mention of incest role play, mention of fear kink, mention of cum inflation????, scummy gojo, also I have no idea how to word this????

gojo who gets paired up with you for a college project, and you’re fucking reeling for a few reasons. one being; he’s extremely attractive and damn near everyone on campus knows who he is. and also, you’re intimidated by his beauty and popularity, especially since you’re only known for giving out the answers when people ask nice enough in classes.

but he’s so…friendly, when you guys meet up to start on the project. he’s all smiles and helpful answers, bites at the people who come up to him and pretend you’re not even there. he listens to you with this dumb (cute) little look on his face, with his lips slightly parted and his brows raised and his white lashes peeking over the roundness of his glasses whenever he nods.

he’s kinder than you expected him to be. funnier, too, with his shitty jokes that you find yourself snorting at in the quiet library. and when you guys are finished with the project, he still keeps in touch. moves his seat to be next to you in class, texts you and asks you out to coffee, even invites you on a date after a few weeks.

and everything is perfect—until it’s not. until he beds you one day and it’s not as special or magical as you were anticipating it to be. he’s kinda…strange, in a sense, when he fucks you. oddly quiet, like he’s holding back, his hands just a little too tight, his eyes too focused on random parts of your body.

but you sleep with him again and again, until he starts becoming real comfortable with you. almost too comfortable, let’s how weird and strange and almost scummy he really is start to shine through, let the mask he’d be unknowingly wearing this entire time slip away.

“What if we were siblings?” Gojo asks you one night when he’s fucking your brains out. he’s gotten better over these few months, gotten looser and more comfortable. too fucking comfortable.

“Satoru, what in the ever loving fuck are you on about?” you ask him in a gasp as you reach a hand back to keep your head from hitting the headboard. but he’s undeterred, his eyes wild and unseeing as he grips your hips tighter, thrusts becoming sloppier.

“No, I mean in a role play way.” He explains, as if that makes it sound any better. “You know? You’re my sweet lil sister taking big bro’s cock so I won’t tell mom and dad about you sneaking out.”

“You’re a sick fuck.” you tell him plainly, frustrated that your tone doesn’t carry the same bite because his nimble fingers started playing with you at the same time. “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Incest role play doesn’t turn you on?” he asks, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy that you wanna kick in the chin. “Maybe, hmm,”

he pretends to be lost in thought, thrusts slowing down and you let out an irritated huff as you slump back onto the bed. but your back arches up when his hips pick up pace again, suddenly slamming into you as he looms over you. one hand cupping your cheek, the other returning in between your thighs as he grins madly.

“Maybe you’d like some fear play, yeah? How’s that sound?” Gojo bends over you until his nose skims yours, his pupils entirely too tiny, makes your breath hitch in your throat. “Me, chasing you around the campus with a big knife, scared that I’ll catch you. You know I would, right?”

he forces you to nod with his big hand cupping your cheeks, pouting your lips at him as you whimper. he kisses you, breathless, chuckling a little under his breath as he mutters something incomprehensible, his cock carving its way deep inside you.

“Maybe even cum inflation? That one’s not the realest thing out here, but I could figure out a way to make that work. You’d like that, right?” he sounds like he’s off the deep end, like every single twisted thought that’s been running through his mind these past few weeks have finally come to the forefront. started spilling out between you two like a cracked dam, like he’s been bottling this up ever since you met him.

you cum only a few seconds after his last inquiry, scared of the way his smile widens, as if your body told him an answer he’s already known.

[barleyo]

Strings Attached.

Uncle! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Read the warnings and tags. This is pretty fucked up, so before you read, please, read the warnings I have provided. Your comfort as a reader is of the upmost importance to me, but the most I can do to protect you as a viewer is to give ample warning. Thanks for reading!

Tags: incest, large age gap (reader: 18, Leon: late 30s/early 40s), p in v, mentions of alcoholism, non/dub-con, coerced/forced, pussyjob, handjob, Leon being a super-mega awful drunken creep (you have been warned, it's bad), cream pie/unprotected sex, shitty amazing writing

Word count: 1.6k

DARK CONTENT AHEAD

Losing your parents really fucked you up. 

Living with your Uncle Leon fucked you up ever further, though. You passed through dozens of your relatives, but Leon, for whatever reason, was the only one who would keep you once you turned eighteen. 

It didn't seem so bad at first. Sure, his house always smelled like cigs and booze, and if he wasn't at work, he was passed out on his shitty couch, but at least you had somewhere to stay while you tried to figure your life out. It was an easy enough arrangement: you kept his place clean, made his food, and kept your mouth shut and he let you stay with him. 

He wasn't awful, but he was so off. His hands lingered on you for too long. His comments were weird sometimes. His eyes scanned over your body too often and left you feeling exposed. 

Really, he wasn't that bad until he got truly shitfaced drunk, which, to be fair, was only a few nights out of the week. That's when he got mean. And frustrated. And horny. 

"Kid," he said from the couch, wiping the sweat from his brow, "g'head into the kitchen n' get another one of these." He held his empty beer can up, shaking the little liquid left at the bottom. 

You really didn't think he needed another, seeing the slowly building pile of cans by his feet and the redness of his face, but who were you to criticize him? You simply nodded and did as you were told. 

"Here, Uncle Leon." You bent down to hand the can to your slouching uncle. 

"Thank you, baby."

He took it and popped the tab, taking a drink. He tried not to gag at the taste. He didn't even like alcohol, it was just an easy, cheap way for him to feel less awful.

"Sit with me. Give an old man some company," he said, patting his lap instead of the available seat next to him. He was always doing uncomfortable stuff like that, and at this point you had gotten used to it. 

You sighed and sat on his legs, trying to focus on the television rather than the drunken murmurings of Leon. You felt a sharp tug on your hair and fell further into his body, leaning back on his chest. 

"Bein' distant for what? I don't bite." He swaddled you with one of his arms and split your legs apart with his knee, forcing you to straddle him. "Y'listen so well, you know that? Don't ever have to deal with backtalk fr'm you." 

You flinched a bit when his face leaned closer to yours, dark, greasy hair covering his eyes that were no doubt drowning in lust. 

"Uncle Leon, I think you should go to bed, it's getting late." You tried to push yourself out of his grasp, but his arm was anchored around you tightly.

"There you go worrying about me again. You love yer uncle, don't you? Takin' good care a' me." Leon nuzzled his face into you neck and inhaled your scent. You smelled so sweet and clean, so perfect. 

"H-hey, c'mon, I don't think–" 

Your mouth shut quickly when you felt his lips on your neck, and his tongue slowly making its way up to the shell of your ear. 

The pungent smell of the booze on his breath brought you back to reality while he whispered into your ear. "You're so nice to me. Just like a little wife f'me, but you don't nag me. You're not a bitch, you're such a sweet girl. Don't know what I'd do without you." 

You felt tears well in your eyes, knowing what was to come. 

It didn't happen very often, and when Leon sobered up, he was always super apologetic about it. On the rare occasion, when the world really came crashing on him and the alcohol took control, he'd use your body to comfort himself. He wasn't rough with you at least, you tried to reason with yourself about it. He wasn't a bad man, you told yourself this over and over again while it happened. He was just— just lonely, is all. 

Leon had long forgot about his beer and focused on your body instead, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it away. 

"Fuck, you look so grown up." He took your tits in his hands, groping them unabashedly. "Puberty hit you hard, girl. Makes me wish I got to you sooner." 

God, he made you so sick, how could he say things like this? They say that drunk words are sober thoughts, but you couldn't stomach the idea of this being what he really thought.

"Please don't," you pleaded, stifling a sob. 

"Shh." He placed his palm over your mouth. "I'll make you feel so good, just help me get it up, okay? Be a good girl. Don't wanna make me upset with you, do you?"

He removed his hand from your face and wrapped it around your wrist instead, holding it to your mouth instead. 

"Spit. More, come on, the more you do, better it feels."

You spit two fat globs into your hand and watched as he undid her belt, pulling his cock out of his slacks. He guided your hand over his length, taking your small hand in his as he jerked himself off with your palm.

"That's it," he said, feeling his chest start to rise and fall. "Those hands are so much soft than mine. Gonna make me cum so easy with 'em." 

Leon brought your hand up to his tip, fluidly twisting your wrist back and forth around it. He bucked his hips up and down, fucking into your hand like a well-lubed fleshlight. He pulled your hand off of his dick before he had the chance to cum, wanting to be inside of you. 

"Wanna feel you. Can I use your mouth or pussy? Wan' you to choose." He gave you the choice, but his hands still slipped your shorts and panties off, impatiently roaming your inner thighs with his hands. His eyes were narrow and sharp like a predator ready to strike, but his tone was so needy and sweet. 

"You can use my pussy," you said quietly, remembering how sore your jaw was after last time. This was the less painful, yet more morally incorrect option, you thought. 

A wave of uneasiness crashed over you when you felt his wet dick slide between your thighs, just barely slipping through your folds. 

"Mm, you won't regret it. Wanted you to choose that one anyways."

It hurt to be so disgusted by him— you loved him, and cared for him, of course. He was the only person who would give you a chance, but was this really the price you had to pay? What the fuck had your life come to?

The head of his cock prodded at your entrance, not yet pushing in.

"You ready?" His chapped lips were slightly parted, looking at you desperately, as if he were drunk on not only beer but on you as well.

How could one man be so sickeningly vile and sweet at the same time? What he was doing was wrong, it made you want to throw up, but the way he did it... you could almost imagine that it wasn't him you could— you could learn to enjoy it and mentally block who he was out of the equation, just to give yourself some semblance of sanity, of dignity. 

You nodded at his question, whining at the stretch of his cock entering you. It wasn't too long, but the girth is what left you aching every time. You felt that you would never get used to it. 

"Please, just hurry."

He didn't respond, he only leaned his head over your shoulder and humped into you pathetically. He didn't fuck often, and he came quick, which made it a bit more bearable. 

The only sounds that filled the room were the squelching of your pussy, his breathy moans, and the strained hums he forced out of you. With a lucky stroke, his cock actually managed to hit your g-spot, brushing into it hard enough to make you squirmy. 

"Feel good?" His voice was cracking and whiny, like a virginal teen beating off for the first time. He was just a hormonal and pathetic. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum in you, spill my seed." 

Your eyes widened quickly and you again tried to peel his arms off of you. "No, no, no! No, you can't do that, let go of me. I'm not on the pill!" 

He shook his head, still not listening to you as he bullied himself deeper into you, strokes getting messy. 

"Fill you up so good. Make your tits get fatter n' tasty, baby. Cumming now," he whined, wrapping his arms around your  lower stomach, clenching your body against his. 

Your pussy betrayed you, spasming around his cock like it gave you life, widely receiving every drop of his cum. 

You bit your cheeks and let the small pricks of blood fill your mouth. If you weren't stuck with him before, you sure as hell were now. To make matters worse, Leon had drifted off into a drunken nap as soon as he finished, too tired to even pull his limp dick out of you. 

You slid off of his lap and sat on the floor, unsure of how to move on. You looked up at your uncle, shamefully admiring his sleeping face. You stood up, legs weak and wobbling, and threw a blanket over his body, then laid your head over his lap.

The man who did the most awful things to you was also the only one who could comfort you. You took what life gave you with a sigh and made you self comfortable on him, arms dangling over his legs. 

You saw the beer he left on the floor and picked it up, feeling it still half full. 

"Jesus," you mumbled to yourself before downing the rest of the can, grimacing at the bitter taste. 

[marnz]

I’m like 70% into my harrow reread and having a blast, I love harrow, I love how hard she tries and fights, how she’s awful but also doing her best. I love the canaan house redux and as always Augustine & Mercymorn kill me dead forever and always.

Something I love is the parallels of relationships in this series and ESPECIALLY in harrow…Augustine & Mercymorn are a model for Harrow & Ianthe, just as Abigail & Magnus are a model for Gideon & Harrow. This is hinted at in GtN when Gideon mentally steals Magnus’s “pri-married” joke for herself but you really see it in Harrow as Harrow admires and takes interest in Abigail & Magnus’ marriage despite the transgression of it? Which is big “baby gay seeing a gay married couple happy and thriving” energy. I love that Tamsyn still invents a kind of transgressive desire and a type of important relationship to “queer” in this new society where being gay is totally normal. which also makes sense! most necromancers are not going to be squeamish about the body and sex of any kind, but harrow IS, and this is why her distaste for flesh magic is such a lovely layer! God I love these books

[asirensrage]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Title: The Lesser of Two Evils Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Haitani Ran x OC x Haitani Rindou, Haitani Ran x Haitani Rindou Word count: 3k Warnings: Dark!fic. Incest. Dub-con. Mention of child abuse/abusive father. Murder. Violence. PTSD. Coercion. Jealousy. Unhealthy relationships. Unbeta’d. *warnings are not exhaustive* Summary: There is a third Haitani. She loves her brothers. They love her more. Written for Fright Night: Forbidden Fruits collab for @enchantedforest-network "The theme of this Collab is Taboo topics. Murder, stepcest, incest, noncon - bring your most rotten fruits to the table."

Notes: I think this is the darkest thing I've ever written. It turned out a lot darker than I intended, so much so that I needed to edit things out because part of it was too dark for the event lol. I tried to fix it so it fit, alluding to things but never straight up saying what happened. It was a result of thinking what would drive the oc into accepting this. I hope I did it right. Apologies to anyone who reads this lol. I have so many regrets but I also enjoyed the challenge.

In case it needs to be said, I don't condone anything that happens in this fic. It's fiction.

HEED THE WARNINGS. seriously. read them.

There is a third Haitani. 

A younger sister born from a last chance to rekindle a marriage that never should have existed in the first place. Her brothers were old enough to want to leave her behind, venturing into the world while Renka remained in the dilapidated apartment. It was a blessing when it was only her and her brothers. A miracle when she was alone. 

With a family like hers, it was easy to slip through the cracks, to fall silent and let her brothers claim the spotlight they always dreamed about, the ones they whispered to each other about in the dead of night when the three of them were curled into the one bed they had as children. Ran wanted to be famous. Rindou wanted to be strong and go into music. He wanted to own a club that everyone would line up for ages to go into like they saw when they were out at night. Renka…just wanted to be happy. And safe. She didn’t tell her brothers the last part. 

Whenever they were together, her brothers were glued to her side. They grinned at her, messed up her hair and teased her the way they teased each other. Rindou and Renka hid together when they’d accidentally wake up Ran, who was a demon no matter how old he was, when he woke up before he wanted. Ran promised her that he’d dress her in the fashions they’d see in the windows they passed. He swore that no one would look down at them, at her, the way he saw others do when they went out. 

The Haitanis were not well off. Not anymore. The broken marriage of their parents, the infidelity that became more and more apparent, left their home in shambles in more ways than one. Ran swore to himself that he’d make things better for his younger siblings. 

Ran and Rindou love their sister. When she was five, Rindou smashed a bottle over their father’s head. Ran used an umbrella to smash his face, leaving him struggling to breathe through his broken nose, before he threatened the man who helped give them life. “You ever look at her like that again, I’ll kill you.” 

They pulled Renka out of the apartment and kept her between them before they treated her to some ice cream they bought with money they stole. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Not you’re fault you’re so cute,” Ran teased. “Ever happens again, you tell us.” 

“Or at least scream,” Rindou adds. “Someone will help you.” 

Renka nods but inwardly she already knows she doesn’t want to cause more trouble. She doesn’t want her brothers who are trying to look after her to get hurt. They’re just kids. What can they do against adults? She feels ancient and young and too aware of what the world holds already. 

Their father leaves them alone for the most part. Their mother disappears, taking off to a new life as if she doesn’t abandon her own children. Renka is left with her two brothers who protect her, whispering promises to her that the life they deserve is waiting for them. 

🌂

When she’s nine, her brothers are arrested. She doesn’t get to see them. Not right away. She’s left alone in an empty apartment, confused as to why they haven’t returned. It takes two days before she finally gets the news…and their father comes home. 

She can’t stop him. Not from coming in or staying. Renka does her best to stay out of sight and out of mind, trying to find a way to get to the detention center to see her brothers. She needs to know what to do. She needs their reassurance that they’ll be released soon. Her home is not safe without them. 

Renka is nine years old when she runs away from home. 

🌂

She waits until the bruises fade before she finally manages to find a way to visit her brothers. One by one. Rindou comes first, takes one look at her and asks “What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing, everything is fine,” she lies. He looks like he doesn’t believe her, but he tells her where they hid some cash despite the risk of being recorded. He tells her that he worries about her by asking what she’s eating, how school is going and if there’s anyone whose ass they need to kick when they get out. Renka forces herself to smile and tells him that she misses him. They’ll be out in less than a year. She just has to wait for them. He leaves after pressing a kiss to his palm and his palm to the glass. She reaches back, pretending she can feel it. She issues being safe at night, tucked between them. She can’t sleep anymore. 

Ran arrives before her, smiling widely at her until he actually looks at her. He doesn’t need to say anything. He’s five years older than her and Renka has never been able to withstand the tension of his stare, the anticipation of him waiting for her eats at her insides until she finally blurts it out. “Ourfathercamehome.”

She half hopes he doesn’t hear her or thinks she said something else, but the way his face changes tells her he understands. She has never seen her brother look at her like that. The fury in his expression makes even the guards straighten. 

“What did he do?” 

Renka swallows and doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. Ran’s anger is palpable and she can’t stop the way she shrinks down in her seat. 

“Tell me you’re not staying there.”

“I–I’m not,” she says quickly. “I…I left.”

He doesn't ask where she’s staying. She has friends, but that’s tricky. She can’t be sent back. She can’t.

“Come back tomorrow. I’ll have a place for you then. Rindou tell you about the stash?” 

She ends up crying, making Ran do a complete 180 in his reactions as he coos at her, tells her she’s strong and he’s proud that she’s protecting herself. That he’ll take care of everything. That no one will ever touch her again. She needs to trust her nii-sans. 

Within two days, she’s introduced to someone named Kakucho. He’s tall, but quiet and kind. He’s only a couple of years older than her, but he shows her a space where she can stay with a lock on the door and teaches her more ways that she can block it to ensure no one else comes in. He gives her multiple escape routes and doesn’t ask questions. Even from inside their prison, her brothers found her protection. They continue to take care of her. 

🌂

When they’re released, when she’s finally reunited with her protectors, both of the brothers hug her. They bury their faces into their hair and she can’t help but cry, even though she doesn’t want to. She’s just relieved. 

“We’re so sorry,” they whisper to her. They’re sorry for getting caught, for leaving her alone, for not being there when she needed them. They promise never to leave her again. She doesn’t believe them, but she clings to them and wishes it’s true. 

🌂

Ran and Rindou stick to their word until they’re arrested for the events of the Kanto Incident. She’s fourteen this time and more self-sufficient. More importantly, despite their aim for success, her brothers have arranged for her safety. She knows now where they stored money that she can use to keep their apartment paid for. She’s safe because her brother’s reminded all of Roppongi why what is theirs stays theirs in any absence. Her father cannot come back from the dead. 

By the time she’s in her twenties, her brothers are released and giving her the life they’ve always promised. She lives in an apartment that suits all of them and while she has her own room, it’s not uncommon for her to find her way into the bed of one of her brothers just to sleep by their side. She still has nightmares about the way she was woken that one night as a child, but being with her brothers chases the monsters away. They are scarier than anything else she’s come across and they are always in her defence. 

🌂

She doesn’t completely realize when it begins as it starts small. A kiss to the cheek that lands on the corner of her lips. A hand slipping under her shirt to rest at her waist because they’re cold when they’re all curled up on the couch together. Them being curled around her when she wakes up, one of their legs between hers. It doesn’t seem like anything because it’s not just her. Her brothers treat each other with the same casual closeness they show her. 

She doesn’t care. Not really. Her brothers are the only ones she trusts. The only ones who have willingly murdered anyone who touched her. She was there when they beat their father to death. They held her any time she woke up screaming or crying, and pressed kisses to her hair as they promised they would never let anyone hurt her ever again. 

And they didn’t. They never let anyone else near her. Their jealousy was obvious when they first caught her talking to a boy at her high school and continued until they banned her from their clubs unless she went with them. She was only allowed to dance with them, pressed in between her brothers as they grinded against her and told her she was the prettiest one there. She always would be. Their praise made her stomach flip and even though she knows it’s wrong, she can’t push them away. Fear of their abandonment tinged with a desire to keep them close makes her easy to mould…makes it easy to give in.

She’s twenty-two when one of them finally makes a move that can’t be ignored. 

Ran presses his lips to hers with ease, as if he’s done it a thousand times before. She can’t stop the way she freezes in place, the way she stares at him, but her brother tucks a hair behind her ear. “Don’t wait up for us, princess. We’ll be back before dawn.”

“Ran, you just–” she cuts herself off, unsure if she wants to actually say it and make it real. 

“I can’t kiss the one I love?” he asks, teasingly. “You want me to stop, I will.” He leans forward, lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “We’re not him, Ren. We’ll never hurt you.” He presses a kiss to her cheek. “Think about us while we’re gone.”

Rindou, never one to let his brother win, kisses her next. Quickly, before she even realizes he is, he pulls away and leaves first. It makes Ran laugh as he follows him out. 

Renka is left reeling, torn by the fear that if she refuses they’ll leave her and the logic that tells her they’ve always been at her side. They’ve kept her between them for years. They wouldn’t abandon her if she says no. And…she doesn’t want to lose them. No matter what they’ve been through, they survived because of each other. She knows it’s unhealthy and it’ll never be anything they can boast about, but the only people she can picture in her future are her brothers. The only ones she’ll ever feel safe falling asleep next to are Ran and Rindou. It’s a terrible but easy choice to make. 

🌂

They go slow as if they expect her to disappear, to run from them as she ran from her father. The difference is that while she ran from him, she was running towards them. They are her sanctuary. Her home. 

For all the violence they cause, despite the blood on their hands, they’re soft with her. Only her. 

Ran kisses her with slow, open-mouthed kisses, savouring in the way she whimpers into his lips. He treats her delicately, taking things at a pace that sometimes feels excruciating. He builds her up and pulls away until she finally breaks and yanks him back to her. She’s pretty sure he wants her to want him, to crave him the way he claims to feel for her. 

Rindou kisses with desperation, as if he expects her to tell him to stop. He’s carefully attuned to her every move, every sound she makes. Rindou makes her feel wanted in a different way and sometimes, if it feels too much, he slows down. He’s happy enough to share her breath, waiting until she’s ready. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t put the words into the air, but she knows he’s scared she’s chooses Ran over him. As if that was ever possible. She’s theirs and they are hers. 

The change is subtle but extreme. 

They walk in without knocking. Rindou’s hand rests between her thighs when they sit together on the couch and Ran curls up with his face pressed against her breasts after she crawls into his bed. They kiss her without reservation and stop hiding the way they kiss each other. The first time it happens, that she walks in on how Ran has Rindou pinned to the wall, hands on his hips as he grinds against him and they look like they’re attempting to devour each other, she stands there watching. She’s not sure if it’s in surprise, shock or…something else, but she couldn’t look away. 

It’s Rindou who sees her first. He grins at the sight of her watching before saying something to Ran that she doesn’t catch. Ran pulls away from sucking marks into Rindou’s neck. Ran looks up, gaze half-lidded as he looks over at her. “Wanna join, Princess?”

“I didn’t know…”

Rindou scoffs at her. “How’d you think we dealt with wanting you? With being locked up?” 

Ran moves his hand to Rindou’s throat, pressing in and cutting him off from saying anything further. Rindou moans into it. “What our brother is trying to say is that there’s no one better for any of us than each other.” 

She watches as her eldest brother gets on his knees before Rindou and undoes his belt. Rindou’s head falls back against the wall as Ran pulls him out of whatever underwear he’s wearing. Renka has felt her brother’s cocks hard against her before, mainly when she woke up with them pressed up against her, but this is different. 

Rindou’s hand gathers Ran’s braids as he takes him in his mouth. Renka has only seen sex as something damaging, but the sight of Ran smiling as he takes Rindou’s cock in his mouth, the way Rindou groans and tries to thrust into him…reaffirms the idea that it’s not with her brothers. That the two of them have only ever been protective and kind. That even in this, as she watches them in this moment, they take care of each other. Of her. 

🌂

Ran is the first. Of course he is. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs against her skin. She’s lying in his bed, shirt off and looking up at him. It’s late in the night. She woke up from a nightmare, not needing to sneak in because she was already in his bed. She barely has her own at this point. “Tell me if you need to stop, okay, princess?”

She nods because she trusts Ran, even if the feeling of his body on top of hers sends her heart racing. It’s different than before. She wants this now. She knows that. She trusts Ran to take care of her. Her brother always has. 

“Promise. I wanna hear it.”

“I…” Renka takes a deep breath. “I promise.” 

“Good.” 

He takes his time, bestowing praises against her skin as he carefully maps out every curve she lets him explore. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. He leaves marks as if he’s leaving a trail for Rindou to eventually follow. He encourages her to be vocal, that he wants to hear her. No one is covering her mouth this time. It’s just her and her big brother in this moment. 

Ran buries his face between her thighs. He encourages her to bury her hands into his hair that’s loose and unbraided. Renka has never felt anything like this. The few instances of touching herself in the privacy of her room, exploring in hopes of erasing the assault that felt branded into her, never felt like Ran’s mouth does now.

He breaks her apart, makes her see stars behind her eyelids, and when he buries himself into her, it’s by her choice. He lies back on the bed and gives her the option of going further, of riding him. It’s nothing like she’s ever experienced and she somehow loves her brother all the more for giving her the choice…and the power to choose. 

🌂

Rindou is not far behind. Once Ran has broken the final barrier between them, once she’s comfortable with that boundary being crossed, he follows with ease. He takes his time with her, but it’s different. Where Ran knew he was bridging a gap that was created by their father and morally by society, Rindou crosses it without looking back. 

He fucks her on the couch. 

He’s careful with her, don’t get her wrong, but while Ran lures her in with slow, mind-blowing sex, Rindou teaches her how to enjoy it faster. Harder. Until the only thing she knows is how to call his name while her legs are around his waist, begging him for more. He shows her how his weight on top of her isn’t a bad thing, how she can still have the control like that and how good it can feel giving up that control to someone she trusts.

Her confidence grows with the attention they lavish on her and it doesn’t take long before she finds herself between them in more ways than just dancing on the club floor. They teach her everything they think she’s missed. How she likes to be touched, pleasured and teased…and how she enjoys touching them in return. No matter how often they leave hickeys on her neck or bruises on her thighs, she feels nothing but loved by them. It doesn’t matter that the world says it’s wrong because Renka’s life has always been defined by the times with her brothers and without. She has always been safer with them.

There is a third Haitani. 

She loves her brothers. Her brothers love her. More than they’re supposed to. They always have. 

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties

I'm not tagging anyone else lol

[blindmagdalena]

would y'all read a messy slowburn fic where homelander hires reader to be his live-in pretend mother in a creepy fake suburbia, slowly rotting her mind with isolation and loneliness and his own incessant neediness over the course of months, eventually succumbing to his fucked up oedipus complex and demanding she fill role of both wife and mother orrrrr......