#tw: pseudocest

[inkykeiji]

maybe next time

character: todoroki touya | dabi warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudo-cest (eventual step brother + step sister), fem!reader, pet names, drug use, generally toxic and manipulative behaviour words: 4.4k

notes: just a lil relationship study set two weeks after touya and reader’s initial encounter in the kitchen! no smut, but the piece contains dark content and heavy themes.

It’s late when the knock comes, the tiny clock on your desk reading a couple minutes past midnight, and you frown, glancing towards your closed bedroom door. 

You were positive Rei and your father had already gone to bed.

“Come in,” you call softly, a slight tremor of anxiety sewn into your words.

The brass knob begins to turn, slow and steady, the door creaking open a second later to reveal a dark, spiky silhouette, Touya’s face swimming into view a moment later as he peers through the gap. 

“Touya?” 

The surprise must show on your face, his name nothing more than a gasp of shock on your tongue, because the corner of his mouth curls up, something sinister wriggling on his face. An eyebrow raises, and his head tilts a little, as if to say aren’t you forgetting something? 

“-Niichan,” you tack on hastily, and his smirk grows. 

He holds your gaze for a moment, lidded eyes boring into a wide stare, your breath stagnating in your lungs as you wait. 

“What’re you doing tomorrow night?” he finally asks, pushing the door open wider and inviting himself into your room, heel kicking it shut a moment later.

“Tomorrow?” you repeat, brows furrowing as you attempt to recall. “Uh, I dunno. Studying, I guess?” 

Throwing a scoff over his shoulder, Touya regards you with skepticism. “On Halloween?” 

“Y-Yes?”

Your answer comes out hesitant, as if you’re afraid of being wrong, and he snorts. 

“That’s lame.” 

He doesn’t look at you as he talks, strolling languidly around your room as his eyes sweep across the space, unhurried and interested. Slowing to a stop in front of your vanity, his dirty fingers flip open a jewellery box, sapphire scanning the contents quickly before flicking the box shut again. 

“I don’t believe you,” he pivots on his heel, belt scraping against pink ivory wood as he leans back against the edge of the vanity, arms crossed loosely over his chest. 

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he shrugs a shoulder, but his eyes are gleaming. “Are you lying to me?”

“No, Touya-nii, I swear—” 

And, really, you should be ashamed of the way the words rush from your mouth in a singular breath, head shaking with ardency. “I don’t have any plans.”

Silence blankets the room once more as he observes you, stare narrowing. Your desk chair creeks as you subconsciously lean forward, physically imploring him. 

“Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any party invites? That doesn’t sound right.” 

The subtle compliment has your eyes darting down to the tangled mess of hands in your lap, heat flooding your cheeks, his unblinking gaze heavy and scalding. It’s hard to suppress the shy smile incessantly tugging at the edges of your lips, and your head droops further, chin tucked into your chest. 

“See? You’re even hiding from me.” He’s moving again, footfalls muted, the hem of his jeans dragging across hardwood, just a touch too long for him without his boots. “You know, it’s not very nice to lie to your niichan.”

The term sends a jolt rippling through your blood, still not used to hearing it drip from his lips, and your head snaps up immediately, instant denials bubbling up in your throat. 

“I promise I’m not lying,” you nearly whine out. “I—I’d never lie to my—my niichan.” 

It’s still foreign in your mouth, but you spit it from your tongue anyway, trembling and awkward, gazing up at him with a particular desperation, begging to be believed. 

He’s nearly toe-to-toe with you now, looking down at you with those bright, bright eyes, pinprick pupils swimming in a sea of azure. His stare is sharp and hungry, skinning the flesh from your bones and consuming it, and you let him, willingly holding still as he feeds.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.” 

“I promise,” you repeat, a breathy vow. 

“You better,” he says, voice low and smooth, remnants of a threat infusing his tone. “Because good girls don’t ever lie.” 

“No,” you shake your head, trancelike, ensnared in his hypnotic eyes. “They don’t.” 

Something flickers in his irises, a shard of pride shining in the dim light of your bedroom, and his smirk mollifies to something softer, something sweeter, something you hope might be just for you.

“Good,” he murmurs, nimble fingers reaching out to stroke your temple in a feathery caress. 

Satisfaction swells your chest and you preen beneath his praise, suddenly starved for more—his touch, his attention, a soft noise of contentment vibrating in your throat as you attempt to nuzzle into his fingertips, Touya huffing out a chuckle in response. 

He awards you with another stroke of his thumb, callus rough against your supple skin, and then he’s pulling away, stalking toward your fluffy pink bed as he continues, you quickly swivelling in your chair to follow him.

“Well, if you’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he begins, flopping himself down on your mattress, looking sorely out of place among lace and frills and cute stuffed animals. “Why don’t you come to a party with me?” 

A party?

“I—I, um,” your breath tangles in your throat and you cough a little, sputtering. “You…Really want that?”

“Sure,” he pushes himself up on his elbows, head quirked to one side. “Why not?” 

“It’s just—I’m—Isn’t it kind of, like, lame to have your little sister tag along?” 

Touya’s smile drops, and your heart sinks with his disappointment. 

“You know, if you don’t want to come, you can just say so.”

“No!” you hasten to say, head shaking frantically. “No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you there, stupid.” 

“I’m sorry,” the apology tumbles from your lips automatically. “I’m sorry, Touya-nii, I didn’t—I really want to come with you.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nails digging into the soft plastic of your armrests. “Absolutely, yes.” 

He pretends to contemplate, stretches the moment, lets you marinate in the uncertainty and soaks up your yearning for his approval. 

“Alright, it’s a deal.” He pushes himself up off your bed, grinning at the way your body visibly deflates. “Be ready for eight.”

“O-Okay. But…Um—”

A sigh is exhaled, slow and sharp, and he glances at you over his shoulder, hand flexing around your doorknob. “What?”

You wince at his growing impatience, eyes darting to your trembling knees before peeking at him again, protected by a shield of eyelashes. 

“Is it a costume party? I don’t have anything to wear.” 

Annoyance fades from his face immediately, eroded by something nefarious.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he says, smirk resurfacing, tinged with malice. “Niichan will take care of it all.” 

  ✰          ✰          ✰    

Halloween night finds you on the counter of the upstairs bathroom, your older brother positioned between your spread thighs, callused fingers wreathed around your jaw as he holds your head in place. 

In the two short months you’ve known him, you’ve never been this close to him. Sapphire eyes stay focused on his actions, carefully following the trajectory of his fingers as they draw tiny black capillaries beneath your eyes with a thin stick of eyeliner.

He shifts a little, sharp hipbones bumping against the bare flesh of your inner thighs as he readjusts his stance, and your muscles tense, toes curling in an attempt to keep from squeezing your legs shut.

It is maybe a little inappropriate, just how close he actually is, gentle exhales infused with smoky hickory wafting across your cheeks, damp and hot. You can’t help but lick at your lips, hoping to soak up remnants of his breath, disappointed to taste nothing more than cheap Halloween makeup. 

“Come now,” he murmurs, stare never leaving his hand as it works. “Don’t ruin niichan’s hard work.” 

Pins of humiliation prick your cheeks and you squeak out an apology, resisting the urge to jerk your face free from his grasp, yearning to hide from his inquisitive eyes.

It is maybe a little inappropriate, just how reactive you are to him—just how much you crave his attention, just how easily you melt beneath his heat, a handful of words and a wicked smirk reducing you to something pliable and easy in his rough palms. 

It is definitely inappropriate, just how sinfully strong those feelings towards him are—feelings no good little sister should ever feel for her big brother, feelings that have your stomach swooping and your mouth watering and your thighs clenching, saliva collecting beneath your tongue and slick arousal seeping through cotton panties. 

This man is supposed to be your brother for Christ’s sake, yet here you are, fawning after him like some lovesick schoolgirl. 

It makes the costume he picked out for you ironically apt.

While you were in class, Touya had taken it upon himself to raid your closet in search of a last-minute Halloween costume—a plaid skirt from your high school years, now much too short to be considered wholly appropriate, and a button-up linen shirt, first button popped and last three left undone so Touya could tie your shirttails up in a knot, leaving your stomach exposed.

An undead schoolgirl, he had claimed when he presented it to you. 

“What are you going to be dressed up as?” you ask as Touya puts the finishing touches on the masterpiece he’s made of your face—a Chelsea smile stitched shut, not unlike his own tattoos. 

Stepping back, he straightens to his full height, the smirk worming on his face making your skin crawl, blue eyes darkening as he pulls a pair of nondescript black framed glasses from his back pocket.

“A teacher.” 

  ✰          ✰          ✰    

The basement is hazy, your nose wrinkling reflexively as the smell of burnt plastic envelopes you. Touya keeps your hand trapped tightly in his own while he navigates the space, glancing back over his shoulder and laughing at your reaction to the vapour saturating the room. 

What is that? you want to ask, eyes squinting against the putrid odour as you scan your surroundings, panic tingling in your chest at the sound of a glass pipe clacking against front teeth, a gentle crackling following a few seconds later. 

Oh. 

Your other hand curls around Touya’s wrist, nails biting into his flesh as you shuffle closer to him—so close that you bump into his back, fighting the impulse to bury your face against his spine. 

It’s okay, your inner voice echoes in your brain, a feeble attempt to calm the pounding against your ribs. You’re with Touya, you’re safe.

“What’s wrong?” he looks down at you, a wide smile slapped across his face, sapphire glittering with amusement. “You scared?”

“I—I’m—” 

The confession sticks in your throat, the words I’m terrified sounding much too childish and lame to tell your big brother, a rush of heat seeping into your cheeks.

But you don’t need to tell him; it seems he already knows. 

“Aww,” Touya coos, smile stretching to inhuman proportions. “That’s cute.” 

It’s spit from his mouth like it’s an insult, yet his eyes are gleaming, bright and alive with a misplaced excitement you couldn’t ever hope to understand. 

“Don’t worry,” he continues, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder, a thumb stroking your bicep. “Niichan will protect you.”

Your body relaxes the instant it’s consumed by his embrace, a comforting cloak of home. It’s interesting how only a day ago you had feared him—feared his coolness, feared his callousness—yet now he acts as a solace, a safe place. 

“You promise?”

“Pinky,” he vows. “What’re big brother’s for?” 

Touya really does keep his promise, his arm slipping down to stay secured around your waist, heavy palm resting on your hip, fingers curling into your flesh slightly, massaging halfhearted lopsided circles into your bare skin.

He refuses to let go of you for a single second, dragging you along with him as he makes his customary rounds, greeting blurred faces painted with cheap makeup, half-melted by sweat. The hand on your hip has gone slippery with combined perspiration, but he grips you all the same, blunt nails nipping your flesh whenever he has you tug you out of the way.

It’s hard for you to catch much of the conversation exchanged between your big brother and an assortment of partygoers, the music too loud and the voices too slurred, their words encoded with foreign language and unfamiliar terms. 

It’s boring for the most part, and you’d feel exceptionally left out if it weren’t for Touya’s hand, hot and damp against your skin. 

It’s boring, but his touch is exciting, mind flooded with a never-ending stream of sordid thoughts about how such rough hands, peppered with hard calluses, would feel smoothing along your skin—up your skirt, between your thighs, along your waist, over your cotton panties…Would you be able to feel that hardened patch of tissue coating his thumb through the material if he were to stroke you there? 

Revulsion erupts across your body, followed by a scalding flush of shame, and you nuzzle your cheek against Touya’s chest, face half-hidden by the fabric of his shirt.

His scent cloaks you, a thick swamp of saliva collecting beneath your tongue, and you inhale deeper, filling your lungs with him, ribs expanding with his essence. Would his skin taste as spicy as he smells? Have any of these sloppy girls, stumbling in stilettos with cloudy heads full of crack cocaine, been afforded the privilege of finding out?

The sudden shock of jealousy that sears through your chest startles you, intense and blazing with unexplained hatred, and you wrap your other arm around his waist, fingers tangling in linen and tugging slightly, a silent claim. 

Really, you should feel disgusted in yourself—it isn’t right to be feeling such powerful emotions about a man who is supposed to be your brother, your big brother—but you just can’t help it, the envy potent and the desire primal. 

It seems like Touya consumes your self-discipline, burns it to smouldering cinders that simmer pitifully deep in the pit of your belly, and you find yourself indulging in your cravings despite knowing it’s wrong, so, so wrong. 

The party trudges on aimlessly and you stay drowned in Touya, steeping yourself in his aura, hoping to soak some of him up—as a memento, something to keep you company long after the party ends.

There is one guest, however, who stands out among the nondescript crowd to an almost impeccable degree. 

Touya doesn’t go looking for him. No, this man, sheathed in gold and crimson, finds him. 

The crowd parts for him like he’s some sort of messiah, faded eyes stealing glances as he advances towards the darkened corner Touya has stowed the two of you away in, pupils full of longing, of wanting, of hunger.

The air in your lungs evaporates in the radiance of his beauty, your eyes wide and glued to his form, your gaze slowly tracing over all of his features: the sharp, angular jaw, the dusting of aureate whiskers adoring his chin, the shimmering topaz irises, sharp and alert despite the man’s easygoing speech and languid tone.

He talks to Touya for a little, his words muffled to your ears, full attention enraptured by his breathtaking nature. It isn’t until he addresses you directly that his voice finally cuts through the haze, forcing you to tune back into his frequency, dry eyes blinking stickily as you descend back down to earth. 

“And who is this little miss?” 

His smile is teasing, but his eyes shine with undeniable sincerity, interest perked. 

“My little sister.” 

And it’s the way he says it—smug and proud and slightly possessive—that has you preening, presenting yourself to his friend with a swelled chest and a bashful smile, honoured to wear the title of Touya’s little sister.

“Oh?” the man looks toward Touya, grin curling into something corrupt. “Lucky you.” 

Turning back to you, the man holds out his hand. “I’m Keigo.” 

It takes you a moment to whimper out your own name, clumsily slotting your hand into his. His hand feels strong, but his grip is gentle—dainty, almost, as if he’s afraid of shattering your delicate bones. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Keigo dips his head, gentlemanly, and a giggle curdles in your throat. “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a voice like a songbird?” 

Your head shakes, your whole body heating beneath his keen stare, biceps flexing around Touya’s waist as you re-embrace him. 

“Well, you do,” Keigo continues. “So airy and elegant—graceful, almost.” 

“You tryna recruit her or something?” 

The bite in Touya’s voice is nearly tangible, sharp and harsh, and it devours Keigo’s train of thought immediately, the man heeding the implicit warning of back the fuck off. 

It should make you feel sad, you think, that Touya’s being so mean to someone so lovely, but it doesn’t. Instead, it inspires a bout of giddiness to flood your chest, his concerning protectiveness conjuring a shy smile to form on your lips. 

Touya must notice in some regard, because his chest puffs out a little, his grip on your body tightening, a silent notion of I’m here, I’ve got you. 

“‘Wouldn’t dream of it,” Keigo eases off lightly with a pacifying smile. “Just an observation, s’all.”

Keigo’s surrender seems to satisfy Touya, though, and they slip back into a boring conversation, peppered with amounts and weights and dollars, your presence forgotten, tucked securely away beneath the arm of your big brother. 

And, really, you don’t mind it there—it’s cozy, and it’s warm, and it’s safe—until you have to pee. 

“N-Niichan,” your knuckles curl in the cotton of his shirt, tugging down a little. “Niichan. Touya-nii.” 

He looks down at you, brows furrowed slightly in confusion. 

“What?” 

“I—” your eyes dart to Keigo, who feigns disinterest, then back to Touya, his gaze mimicking the trajectory of yours. “I have to pee.” 

A smirk materializes on his face and something akin to dread unfurls in the pit of your stomach, thick and tarry.

“No problem,” he says easily, but you can’t shake the feeling something is off. “I’ll bring you to the washroom.” 

And bring you to the washroom, he does. What you don’t expect is for his palm to catch the door, just as you’re squeaking out your thanks, a big black boot wedged in the doorframe as collateral. 

There isn’t a moment to question what he’s doing, because before your stunned mind can even comprehend it, Touya’s shoving forward, pushing himself through the small space and into the washroom with you. 

“Gotta make sure you stay safe,” he says as way of explanation, nonchalant with a shrugged shoulder, as though this is normal behaviour. 

Blinking slowly, your head quirks, forehead puckered. “You could’ve just stood outside the door…”

“And, what? Break my promise?” His eyes are hard, his brows knitted, as if he’s offended you even insinuated such a thing. “What kind of big brother do you think I am?” 

The kind who forcibly intrudes private spaces, apparently. 

“No, I mean—It’s just—Is this really necessary?” 

“I made you a promise,” Touya annunciates slowly, the pace insinuating your stupidity, his gaze boring into your own, imploring you to understand. “And I intend to keep that promise.” 

Claws of panic encase your heart, your chest beginning to feel tight and heavy, as if his steady stare is depressing your ribs, pressing the life from your lungs. 

You think you are finally beginning to understand the full extent of Touya’s bullheadedness (as Rei calls it), because it is becoming abundantly clear that he will not be taking no for an answer, under any circumstances.

His unrelenting glare wears you down easily, quickly, and you can feel your bones crumpling beneath his eyes, haughtily staring down the bridge of his nose at your folding form. 

“Can you at least turn around?” you mutter out weakly, wincing at how pathetic your voice sounds, a timid request instead of a terse demand, one last desperate plea for privacy.

But the disapproval coating Touya’s face cracks, revealing sterling satisfaction, and he nods with a small smile, pivoting on the balls of his feet. “Of course.” 

It’s intimate in the most invasive way, to have his presence in the room as your skirt flips up and your panties pool around your ankles—white lace; you wonder if Touya likes lace?—his aura powerful and suffocating. 

“Wash your hands.” 

The order comes the moment the toilet flushes, calm and stern and strong over the rush of flowing water. 

“Y-Yes, niichan,” your head ducks obediently, even if he can’t see you, quickly thrusting your hands under the faucet. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs when he finally turns around, and his eyes are soft, melty, as you dry your hands on a dirty towel. 

You should feel ashamed, horrified, at the way you preen beneath his praise—an innate reaction, entirely subconscious as you’re drawn to his heat, a sunflower yearning for fiery sun—but you barely even notice it’s happening, the response so instinctual it feels natural, normal, right.

You expect it to be awkward after; he did just force you to pee in front of him, essentially, a violation of your basic rights as a human—but it isn’t. 

If anything, you suddenly feel inexplicably closer to him, as if the whole bizarre experience has united you in some way, a new bond birthed, a special secret to share between the two of you.  

The rest of the party passes in an incomprehensible blur, Touya the only constant in your mind—the feeling of his hands on your hips, palms rough but warm; the sensation of his fingers threaded through yours, slim and bony but strong in their grip, pressing intermittently into your knuckles with varying degrees of force; the warmth of his lap beneath your bum and his chest cushioning your back, one of his hands in both of yours as he allows you to idly trace the inked sutures lining the back of his hand, symbolically connecting puckered skin to healthy flesh. 

You’re pretty sure siblings aren’t supposed to act this way—touch like this, be this close—but you can’t be certain; maybe it’s different when the siblings aren’t related by blood? Or maybe, since you aren’t technically, officially step-siblings just yet, then it doesn’t count? 

Either way, if Touya’s doing it, then it’s probably okay, isn’t it? Touya presumably knows better than you do, anyway. Touya’s been a big brother to three other siblings all his life. 

And if Touya’s behaviour is okay, then it must mean that it’s okay for you to nestle into his body, face nuzzling into the junction of his shoulder and neck—a cozy little curve, perfect to cradle your cheek—as dainty little fingers crawl across his chest, right?

There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Brothers and sisters cuddle sometimes, don’t they? This is mostly harmless, right?

So what if being this close to him ignites a flock of sparks to fizz in your tummy? So what if feeling his hands on your body—his palm petting the back of your head, his fingers trailing the notches of your spine—inspires your own greedy hands to wander, too: tiptoeing down the buttons lining his sternum, trailing along the collar of his shirt, aching to trace the sharp line of his jaw or twirl in inky tufts of hair at the base of his skull.  

And so what if this makes you crave more of him—more of his touch, more of his time—what’s so bad about a little sister wanting more of her brother’s attention? 

It’s not a big deal, is it? That’s normal, isn’t it? 

He’s so warm, and he’s so strong, and he smells so good, your eyes slipping shut against your better judgement, the pulsing thrum of his blood rushing through the thick veins in his neck, steady and calm, the perfect lullaby. 

You have no idea what time it is when Touya finally hoists you up, legs locking loosely around his waist and arms draped over his shoulders as he carries you from the dingy basement. 

“S’going on?” you mumble into his collarbone, question smeared across his skin.

“Party’s over,” he chuckles, and you can feel his amusement, deep and warm and real, rumbling against your ribs. “And someone needs to be put to bed.” 

“Already?”

“It’s nearly three AM, baby.” 

Baby. Baby. Weak sparks flare to life in your chest at the utterance of the pet name, and you smile into his skin, rubbing your mouth along the protruding bone—a crude imitation of a kiss. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Touya—you’re beginning to realize, slowly but surely, that no part of you ever goes unnoticed by Touya; the nervous tremble in your voice always caught by his keen ears, the timid winces and yearning, bashful stares always catalogued by his inquisitive eyes. 

You’re not quite sure it matters either way. Maybe big brothers are supposed to catch this kind of stuff; maybe it’s their duty to know all of their little sister’s mannerisms.

So you know he doesn’t miss the way your fingers curl against his shoulders, nails scraping linen, after he’s laid you across your mattress, still in your Halloween costume, and is beginning to pull away.

“Don’t go.”

The desperation in your voice is palpable, and in any other circumstance you’d be writhing with horrified humiliation, but your brain is too tired to process the weight of your words, floating in the purgatory between conscious and unconscious. 

Touya wavers, dreamlike, in your sleep-tinged vision, a gentle noise of disgruntlement sounding at the back of your throat. 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t want you to go,” you manage to mumble out through a pout.

“Oh?” 

Your bedroom is dark, the waning moon bathing it in a soft silver glow, sapphire eyes catching in the beams as they search your face, slow and purposeful, almost as if he doesn’t believe you. 

“Is that so?”  

“T’is,” your arms tighten around his neck, weakly tugging him toward you. “Stay.” 

He goes willingly, his elbows digging into the plush of your mattress on either side of your shoulders, his body half-blanketing yours. 

“I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

His breath is hot against your face, his voice low and smooth as it rumbles against your heart. 

Perhaps not, but you want it anyway. 

“Please?” 

Something sharp glints in his eye as his gaze sweeps your features again, a predatory smirk smeared across his lips. His thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek, a promise written in the action, and a responding shiver skitters up your spine. 

“Maybe next time.” 

[recareels]

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest

big brother ajax is the type to press a thumbprint into the obscenely massive blotch of navy staining your neck as he slinks by you in the kitchen—nonchalant, unobtrusive, but annoying—and ask ‘who gave ya that nasty mark, huh?’ in front of the entire family, knowing full well that he gave it to you after sneaking in through your bedroom window at three am last night. 

‘whoever it is, they really did a number on you,’ he’d continue, jabbing at the hickey again and asking, ‘why do you let ‘em do that to you?’, knowing full well that you can’t do anything but stutter out some incoherent response, tongue tripping over your lies, choking on half-formed excuses as your adoptive father glares at you. 

ajax’s mask of mock concern is good—sufficient enough to appear authentic from a distance: brow warped with worry, creased just a little too perfectly; tone composed with ideal amounts of fretful and distress, balancing the two in a way that’s a little too calculated—but you’re not fooled. because you can see that sharp shard of mischief glimmering in his eye; you can see the playful smirk incessantly yanking at a corner of his mouth. 

he’s offering a challenge.

and you’re going to get him back.

[doki-doki-imagines]

stranger!reader than try to get into Sae's pants but he bluntly rejects her. Too bad she nailed his character immediately and with the cutest, whiniest voice ever, says "Nii-chan, you really won't help me?"

You end up in the back of his car doing the nastiest sex of your life and Sae with the knowledge burning in the back of his brain that he is so easy to lure.

[daddeaddove]

my fav incest fics!!

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! if it's not your thing, just scroll.

there's lowkey very little, but dw i will keep adding more :3 all of these aren't mine!!

misc.

jjk men

toji

he thinks he’s funny

grimy stepdad

stepdad!toji drabble

nanami kento

daddy's girl (stepdad)

sukuna

dad!sukuna

uncle!sukuna

enji (endeavor)

diet mountain dew

lowkey not incest (ft. his sons)

erwin smith

no more boys

megumi

hide n fuck

gojo satoru

loser brother

younger stepbro & more

choso

very sweet

stepbrother

help me, stepbro !

big brother cho

iida brothers

stepbrothers

if yall have any more recommendations, pls tag me in them or send me it >_< 🙏

[vampyr-ss]

yes, daddy | t. fushiguro, s. kong

summary: your daddy’s tired of you distracting him during the game & uses your uncle shiu to teach you a lesson

pairing(s): step-dad!toji x reader x step-uncle!shiu

warnings: dark content (18+) + stepcest + double penetration + creampie + throatpie + degrading + no real prep + squirting

wc: 3.6k (unedited)

others: happy post-super bowl & happy valentine’s day!! this was originally supposed to be on sunday but a lot came up. not particularly proud of this, but i’m happy to finish it! anyways, go birds!! fly eagles fly!!! 🦅🦅🦅

toji’s done his absolute best to be patient with you. you’ve been acting differently lately, more rambunctious and seductive. he can’t trust himself to be alone with you because of how you look at him when you are alone. he knows what you want, and he’s willing to give it to you. more than, actually. before today, toji has given you plenty of warnings and plenty of chances. he’s told you that he can’t do this, that you need to be outright or you won’t get what you want.

he should’ve known you’d only get worse when he invited shiu over for the super bowl. your eyes had always lingered on shiu when he came to visit. he recognized those lip bites and the gentle flutter of your lashes when your uncle spoke to you. you used the same tactics on him. you always wore the smallest amount of clothes around the house. your ass would barely be covered by your shorts or your shirt would be tight enough for him to see the outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

toji believes this is his fault. your mother’s gone to get more food and you immediately disappeared upstairs, giggling as you went. you’d returned in your panties and an eagles shirt, leaning over the couch to speak to him. “daddy have you seen my philly sweatpants?” your voice is soft and low, eyes shifting over his face as toji glances over the couch. his eye twitches when he spots your thong—the smallest thing he’s ever fucking seen. there’s no way your cunt is fully covered. “haven’t seen them, baby.” he murmurs, though his attention hasn’t slipped from the thin material covering your pussy.

“you don’t need ‘em sweetheart.” shiu chimes in, eyes glued to your ass. he smiles at you as he pats the space between them on the couch. “come watch the game, baby. your daddy’s been waiting for this.” he emphasizing the silly title you use for your stepfather, raising his eyebrows at you. your face flushes, clearly not expecting this response, but you round the couch to sit anyway. the leather’s cold against your bare ass and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

more often than not, toji has impeccable self control. he restrains himself every time you come prancing around and damn near nothing with shy smiles and wide eyes. but right now? the game’s going to half, the eagles are losing by a field goal and irritation is beginning to claw at his chest. he clenches his jaw as his eyes stay glued to the tv purely to prevent himself from acting on instinct. “what’s wrong, daddy?” you purr sweetly from beside him. your hand rests on his thigh, chest pressing against his arm.

shiu huffs a quiet laugh from beside the two of you. “the game’s not going well, sweetheart. but, didn’t i tell you,” he pauses to grab you by your jaw, squeezing your cheeks so harshly that it forces your lips to pucker. “didn’t i tell you days ago not to distract us during the game? and here you go in your tiny fucking panties showing your ass off to the world.” you pout your lips at him in return the best to your ability, whining softly when his grip tightened on your face.

"'s not the whole world. jus' you and shiu." you mumble with false shyness, fluttering your eyelashes at toji. he rolls his eyes, "if you wanna be the main show so fucking bad, show me what you want." toji's words are low and angry, almost like he's been waiting for this--and he has. you freeze briefly, eyes searching his face to see if he's serious. his green eyes peer back at you expectantly, waiting for you to make your first move.

your hands almost immediately slide to his pants, eagerness rushing through your body. you didn't care if you'd come across as desperate or like some sort of slut, you just wanted toji in you and you wanted it now. toji tuts at you, his hand coming over your own to keep you from pulling his sweatpants down. "no, i want your pussy baby. don't forget your uncle's over there." he juts his chin towards shiu whose eyes are glued to your nipples poking through the fabric of your eagles tee.

shiu watches you evenly. his eyes are low and his gaze predatory, but you don’t find yourself wanting to escape. you want him to fuck your throat raw. you want this. you turn from your step-dad to his best friend, gingerly placing one of your hands on his thigh before leaning in to kiss him. shiu tastes like smoke and not the good kind. you've dated a weedhead or two, you've liked how they tasted, but the taste of tobacco is new and not entirely unwelcomed. your nose scrunches a little making shiu laugh against your mouth. his tongue is quick to press against your lips to be allowed past your lips.

you allow him in with ease while your hands fumble with his belt. you can't see toji, but you know he's enjoying this. he's possessive, but that's why he wants your pussy. shiu can fuck your throat for all he cares, but your cunt is all his. "c'mon, you're gonna kiss him to death. open wide and do what you're here for, baby girl." toji's deep and irritation-riddled voice sounds from behind you. you slowly pull away from shiu. his eyes slowly follow your movements. "show me what you had in store for your daddy, hm? let me see how nasty you are, pretty girl."

you can't deny that shiu's words send a shockwave through you. your pussy clenches and your mouth waters despite yourself. "yes sir." shiu chuckles, pressing one more smoke-scented kiss to your lips. his big hand tangles into your hair the second your lips disconnect, his eyes are low on your face but desire burns bright in them. your fingers make quick work of his zipper, desperate hands pulling at his pants and then his boxers.

shiu’s long. you don’t know what you expected, but his dick is long and curved. your heart stutters at the sight of it, mouth watering and pussy clenching. toji huffs from behind you as his palm flattens your back, forcing you to arch your ass in front of him. “go on, suck his dick. i know you want to, pretty baby.” you glance back at him for confirmation, pretty eyes narrowed in both suspicion and submission. toji may be letting you suck his best friend off, but at the end of the day you’ll be his. that was why he was getting your cunt and shiu was only allowed your mouth. this is all in good fun.

your lips wrap around shiu’s cock eagerly. your tongue slides over his tip, digging into the slit briefly before you swipe your wet muscle down and along his shaft. shiu grunts but doesn’t make any absurd noises, his fingers tightening in your hair. the pain that comes with the tug of your hair makes you moan. it’s loud and nasty, and it makes shiu’s hips jerk up and into your mouth. your tongue flattens as you move further down on his cock. toji busies himself with pulling your thong to the side though he doesn’t do anything else.

with your lips still wrapped around shiu, you wiggle your ass back towards toji. the cold air’s hitting your wet cunt and you’re starting to wish he would just touch you. you’d beg him to if your mouth weren’t full. “fuck her throat, shiu.” you look up at him through your lashes, watching your uncle look to toji with an eyebrow raised. “you sure she can take that? she’s barely taking half o’ me.” he juts his chin at toji as he asks the question and his hand grips your hair briefly before he scratches at your scalp affectionately.

“that doesn’t matter, shiu. she’ll take what you give her. ain’t that right, honey?” toji smacks your ass for emphasis, forcing a whine from your filled throat. your eyes flutter shut to relish in both the pain stemming from your ass and the brief touch of toji’s hand on your body. they open again to meet shiu’s heated gaze. you nod the best you can with his dick in your mouth, placing a pretty hand at the base to pull him out with a soft pop!. “i can take it, uncle shiu.” you purr softly, pressing his cock against your face. “i’ll be good, i promise.” you bite down on your lip as you watch him through your lashes.

shiu’s never been the greatest man, but right now he wonders what he did to get blessed with this sight. his cock twitches against your face forcing pre-cum to smear across your cheek before dribbling down to your jaw. “then don’t cry to me when it’s too much, okay?” shiu’s lips split into a shit eating grin. the hand he’s kept in your hair grips at your strands impossibly tight. he guides your now-open mouth to his dick as he practically slams his dick inside of you waiting throat. you gurgle—loudly—but neither your uncle or daddy care. if anything, toji laughs while shiu groans.

shiu watches as your eyes roll back into your head the moment he starts to roll his hips up and into your throat. his grip on your hair tightens, and toji watches with a smirk. “so fuckin’ slutty.” he murmurs. toji slaps both of your ass cheeks one more time before he spreads them experimentally. your asshole clenches out of both instinct and anticipation whilst your cunt practically drools at him. toji licks his lips, trailing a finger through your sobbing pussy. “she’s so fucking wet, shiu. i’d let you see but this is all mine,” he pauses to stick his fingers in his mouth. “fuck. she’s so sweet.”

the couch shifts under you and shiu as toji moves so one knee is on the couch. he spreads your ass once more to get a good look at your holes. he spits into your ass, watching affectionately as it’s pushed back out at him. toji finds himself mesmerized at the way your pussy glistens under the lights of the living room. you’re so fucking desperate that it’s making his cock harder than it’s ever been in his life. toji slides his tongue through your folds in a slow teasing motion. he starts at your clit, licking upwards until he finds your asshole. his tongue lingers there, sliding into your tight hole that invites his tongue in greedily. toji feels more like your ass is eating him than the other way around.

your daddy’s tongue slides out of your ass with a wet pop! but it isn’t long before his mouth is attached to your cunt. his fingers keep you spread open for him whilst his tongue assaults your pretty pussy. you groan around shiu’s cock at the sudden pleasure, gripping his thighs to keep yourself grounded in some way. shiu ignores your sounds to chase the feeling of your tight throat around his cock. your mouth’s so fucking good and he truly cannot help himself. shiu watches your face carefully as he tries different rhythms opposed to ruthlessly fucking your throat. he rolls his hips a certain way, watching the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“fuck, toji, she’s a crier.” shiu’s voice leaves his lips airy from disbelief. there are tears sliding down your cheeks the further into your throat shiu fucks, and now that toji’s eating your cunt there’s snot beginning to dribble from your poor nose. “of course she is.” he hisses as he pulls his mouth away to shove a thick finger into your pussy. “she’s a desperate fucking slut, she’s gonna cry when she finally gets what she wants. it’s in her nature. isn’t it, slut?” toji curls his finger inside you for emphasis, and you howl around shiu’s cock. he groans, finally slipping his cock from your mouth. “how the fuck did you-shit! should’ve married this fucking mouth.”

your eyes widen at both shiu’s words and toji’s finger inside your pussy. your nails dig into shiu’s thighs to ground yourself from the pleasure thrumming through your body. you can barley see from the tears clouding your vision, you can only feel. feel toji sliding another fat finger into your pussy. feel shiu slapping his cock against your lips. feel yourself drench toji’s fingers. you’re practically blind in this interaction, but fuck is it worth it. your body feels so so good, this was better than what you were asking for with just toji. “she’s barely loosening up.” toji grunts. “just keep her throat busy, i’m not patient enough for this.”

your lips part to ask what he meant, but your question dies in your throat as toji’s tip slides into your cunt. you had an idea that toji was big but fuck does it hurt. your stomach burns at the sensation of his fat tip breaching your walls and your pussy clenches hungrily around him. “fuck, i can’t even get in her.” he hisses, spreading your cheeks to get a good look at your pussy swallowing his fat tip. “shiu, keep going. she needs to get wetter or i’m gonna rip this pretty pussy apart.” toji tuts, pressing a hand on the middle of your back to make you arch. “but, i think she wants that.”

as toji forces himself further in you, shiu stops toying with you and forces your jaw back open. he smears some of his cum across your lips. “you’re so pretty like this. i don’t know why he waited so fucking long.” you whimper softly at the compliments shiu shower you with, watery eyes darting from his face to his dick. shiu hums, sliding his dick back into your throat slowly. “should’ve been a good uncle and taken care of you and this throat, hm?” his words are strained, but you can still feel the meaning behind them. he’s been wanting to fuck you. this is just the beginning.

you can’t figure if it’s from impatience or feeling ignored, but toji shoves himself fully inside you in one harsh thrust. you lurch forward, choking on shiu’s dick as you scream the best as you can with your throat filled. shiu hisses from the vibration, pulling your head fully down on his cock to shush you. “shit, baby. you’ve been hiding this from me?” toji practically hisses his words at you. his fat cock’s splitting you open so fucking good.

your cunt squeezes hungrily around him to try and pull him in to keep him there. you can feel how wet you are, and even with that toji can barely pull back out of you. toji’s hand comes down on your ass. “not fuckin’ letting me go, huh? you this greedy? you got your uncles cock in your mouth and your daddy’s dick in this pussy but it’s not enough, is it?” his words are meant to hurt your feelings, but you clench. it’s nasty and absurd, but you like being used like this. you want them so badly it hurts. toji doesn’t give you a true chance to reply because he’s pounding your pussy as soon as he realizes you’ve heard him.

toji’s hips snap aggressively against yours, heavy balls slapping against your pussy from how hard he’s fucking into you. your fingers dig impossibly deeper into shiu’s thighs, eyes watering from how full your cunt and mouth are. shiu’s grip on your hair tightens—he ignores the choked sounds leaving your throat and the way his pre-cum’s sliding back down his cock along with your spit. you look so messy like this. there’s spit trailing down your face and neck, tears sliding down your cheeks and snot sliding from your nose. you look pathetic and it’s only turning him on more. your daddy’s grip on your hips is bruising. your hips hurt from the gee minutes he’s been fucking you, but somehow you don’t mind.

your cunt clenches at the thought of the bruises showing, that your mom will ask you what happened and you’ll have to come up with some stupid excuse. your step-daddy likes fucking you better, and you’ll be the only one to know. “she’s so sloppy, baby.” toji murmurs to no one in particular. he releases his grip on one side of your hips to rub harshly at your clit. you cry out, back bowing and eyes rolling further into your head. “i’m gonna cum.” shiu groans, shifting his grip from your hair to the back of your throat. he forces your head to stay in place, opting for jutting his hips into your throat like a dog in heat. your eyes flutter open just to see his face as he cums down your throat. you’d never describe shiu as pretty, but the way his face flushes, his lips part, and his eyes roll make you realize you want this to never end.

shiu’s cum is hot and salty as it fills your throat. you’re choking before you can think about it, sealing your lips around his dick the best you can. your tongue swirls around his tip to collect more cum the longer his orgasm lasts. you fight through the tears and the burning sensation filling your lungs and nose to take all of his cum, swallowing dutifully around him when his aimless thrusts into your pussy finally end. “fuck. toji you’re never keeping me from this fucking mouth.” he mumbled tiredly, pulling his softening cock from your mouth. “let me see, pretty girl.” you stick your tongue out for him, letting him see that you’ve swallowed it all.

“see, shiu? she’s a natural slut. born to be fucking bred.” toji chuckles, wrapping his big hand around t your throat to pull you against him. “c’mon, give me this cunt. need you to cum on daddy’s dick, can you do that, princess?” your throat hurts and so does your cunt. toji’s failed prep forced your pussy to stretch more than it had in years. you can only nod under his grip, eyes stuck on shiu as he watches through his lashes. toji pistons in and out of your cunt at a pace you hadn’t thought to be humanly possible. it feels like he’s in your stomach, his cock’s fat and long and it makes your stomach shift.

your poor pussy’s never handled anything so big before, toji almost feels bad. almost. scarred lips press against your neck hungrily. toji bites and sucks on your neck while his free hand wanders. he pinches your nipples to force a muted scream from you, back bowing from both pleasure and a need to escape. “can’t take it-oh! can’t take it anymore, ‘m gonna cum daddy.” you cry softly, voice nearly gone from the throat fucking you’d taken before. “don’t fucking tell me, just do it.” he pinches your clit for emphasis, laughing in your ear when your knees try to buckle. your cunt clenches and the knot in your stomach grows tighter with every thrust.

toji shifts his hips just slightly and it’s as if an explosion was set off in your body. your vision blurs as an unknown sense of euphoria flushes through your body. you don’t know if you cried out, if you screamed, or if you just fell limp against toji. your orgasms never been this strong in your life. you feel like you’ve been undone and put back together all in one moment. your eyes flutter open in time to see your pussy spray on the couch leaving various wet stains. shiu leans over to attach his lips to your clit, and you scream. “no! no more please!”

your stepfather and uncle ignore your cries, toji’s thrusts get harsher as he chases his orgasm. you can feel his fat cock shift in your stomach, you can feel him twitch as his orgasm nears with every thrust. another orgasm threatens your pussy with shiu’s lips still stuck on your pussy. your hands push at his head to no avail because he continues sucking. toji grunts, tightening his grip on your throat as his orgasm finally hits him. “fuck, i’m gonna get you pregnant baby.” he laughs breathily in your ear. “make sure this pussy can’t go anywhere, can’t take anyone else.” his eyes shift to shiu, who’s pulled away to kiss you again after swallowing down your second orgasm.

“i’m-‘m so full, daddy.” you whimper against your uncle’s lips though your words are aimed towards toji. shiu laughs, slapping your cheek affectionately. “if we had more time you’d be fuller than that, princess. be glad he’s the only one that came in that pussy today.” toji pulls out of you, hissing as he goes. you find yourself missing the warmth and fullness of his cock inside you. the same longing you felt for shiu’s cock in your throat. “maybe one day we’ll both get you pregnant. see who’s baby it is.” he presses one more kiss to your lips, a kiss of finality. he actually meant what he was saying. “can’t,” you trail off, “can’t do that! what if-” toji’s aggravated voice cuts you off. he shoves his fingers into your pussy to keep his cum from leaking out. “doesn’t matter if someone finds out, this is my pussy now sweetheart. your uncle shiu’s too, if i feel nice. ain’t that right?” you glance between the both of them, pursing your lips before nodding in defeat. “yes, daddy.”

[inkytoru]

KISS WITH A FIST ── .✦ ꒰ caleb y. ꒱

SYNOPSIS: You were tired of constantly being treated like a thing to protect by your older stepbrother, Caleb. Having reached your breaking point, you punch him. These are the consequences of your actions; the aftermath spelling out the beginning of the end.

PAIRING: caleb yizhou x f!reader WORD COUNT: 2.4k ⚠ CONTENT WARNINGS: dubcon, pseudo/stepcest, non-consensual spanking/impact play, humiliation, blood, violence, power dynamics/imbalance, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, vaginal fingering, manipulative aftercare

A/N: minors dni. this was supposed to be a short drabble idk what happened. anyways, angry caleb with a nosebleed anyone?

ao3 mirror.

“You always do this, gege!” you whine, and Caleb thinks you look breathtaking as always, but especially so with the way tears of frustration bead at your lashline and how that damned pout of yours makes his cock stir.

The restraint it took to not ravage you right then and there almost makes him want to groan.

Instead, a slight frown tugs at his lips as he looks down at you.

“He’s no good for you, pips. Why do you always go for the shitheads?” And why won’t you ever look at me the way you do at them?

You looked as if a scream was about to tear itself from your throat.

“Who are you to tell me who’s good for me or not?!” your voice was rising to a dangerous volume, and Caleb was glad grandma wasn’t home.

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

“You may not be,” Caleb grits through his teeth, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t look out for you.” The way a good boyfriend would do.

At this point, the tears that were welling up in your eyes now fell freely and slid down your cheeks. It broke Caleb’s heart that he was the one making you cry, and a flash of regret might’ve flickered across his face, but you were too busy wiping your sleeve against your eyes to notice.

“You need to understand that not every boy will have your best interests at heart,” Caleb goes on to say softly, but his disapproval still remains weaved within his words, “trust me on this.”

You slowly lower your arm from your face to glare at him from below your lashes as betrayal is written plainly on your features.

“Then why were you snooping through my phone, Caleb?”

His face pales.

“Pips, it’s not like—“

You cut him off with your quiet tone and unwavering gaze.

“You were the one who violated my trust in you, and you dare to tell me to trust you when you go so far as to look through my messages? Not only that, but you also deliberately found out my boyfriend’s address just so you could threaten him? What, did you really think I wouldn’t know? What’s wrong with you?”

Caleb’s eyes were downcast, his frown beginning to quirk up into an infuriating small smile.

“So, you’ve got me there,” he replies with a leveled voice, sunset eyes going on to peer at you as the most punchable expression you’ve ever seen him wear makes your insides boil and simmer with anger.

“Aren’t I pathetic?”

It was as if the fractured lines within you finally gave way as something snapped, and you reeled your clenched fist back before connecting it firmly against his nose. You didn’t even register that you did it until you spot the red seeping from his nostril.

Not expecting your violent retaliation, he had stumbled a step backwards, eyes widened in shock as he looked at your just as shocked face, to the now bloodied hand he had just used to touch his now broken nose, then back to your face.

You watch in abject terror as you see the surprise morph to hurt in his eyes, then to how it darkens like a storm cloud; the calm before the downpour of a quiet fury you’ve never seen him direct towards you now settled onto your frozen form.

With a vice grip like unyielding iron, Caleb drags you screeching by the wrist up the stairs.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to—! Gege, that hurts, stop—!“

Your frantic stammering does nothing to deter him from shoving you hard onto his bed as he closes the door behind him with a jarring softness.

“Do you know,” he begins lowly, “how many times I have let you off the hook?”

Words seemed to be lodged somewhere between fear and your throat. All you could muster in response was a tiny nod.

“How many times I have been nothing but a good brother to you?”

As he talks, he slowly approaches you, feet stopping right before the foot of his bed.

You crawl backwards out of fear until you reach his headboard.

“You’re not getting away scotch-free this time, no,” he barks out a laugh before he’s on the bed inching closer to you.

“You’re going to be punished, and you’re going to see just how mean gege can get.”

“Caleb, let me go! I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head. “It’s too late for sorries.”

With ease, he yanks you down by the ankles; then, in a flash he pins your wrists above your head.

The blood from his nose drips onto your face as his hovers above yours, its metallic taste meeting your tongue as it dribbles into your agape mouth.

It tasted like the beginning of the end, like a jigsaw puzzle falling apart, like the pieces of it will never be able to be connected the way they once were ever again.

Then, your eyes travel down his body to see the tented up fabric of his jeans. Your eyes widen— part trepidation, part incredulity.

“Are you seriously hard from—“

Before you could finish your sentence, his crimson-stained lips crashed against yours, the taste of his blood becoming ever more omnipresent to you.

He growls into the kiss as you squirm around beneath him. Your whimpers were muffled before being silenced by his tongue wrestling against yours.

Why was heat flaring up within your core? Were you… liking this as much as he was?

After a moment, he pulls back, a string of shared saliva stretching from his lips to yours. He looks at you with an indiscernible look in his eye before going to sit at the side of the bed.

Without the tenderness that usually accompanied his words, he sharply demands:

“Get up. Strip and lay across my lap.”

“Caleb, I don’t think we should be doing this.”

His steeled stare doesn’t budge from you. “That wasn’t a question.”

Biting at your lip, you do as you’re told; you shrug off your top, then slip out of your shorts and panties.

“No bra?” Caleb’s breath hitches in his throat. “You want to be ogled at by men, don’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for your reply before he impatiently jerks you towards him by the hand. You get the memo and sprawl yourself down onto his lap.

A large hand deceivingly trails up the back of your thigh to the flesh of your bare ass.

”Count.”

Without waiting for your reaction, that same large hand was mercilessly and swiftly raised in the air before striking you on the left asscheek. A loud yelp leaves you.

“O-One,” you begin.

Your stepbrother wordlessly raises his hand again. The palm of it meets your skin once more, and another cry falls off your lips.

”Two!”

Deceptively, Caleb’s palm caresses your reddening behind. But what relief it provided was short-lived as it was struck against the meat of your ass again.

”Three,” you sob out with a hiccup, jolting slightly in his grasp. Your gaze remains on the carpeted floor as heat not only rises to your asscheeks, but also to the ones on your face. You were a tad curious what expression he was sporting right now, but knew better than to look.

”Four.” Tears of humiliation well up in your eyes this time.

”Keep moving around so much and we’ll start again from zero,” comes Caleb’s flat voice devoid of any joviality that you were so used to hearing from him.

You try to give him a small nod in acknowledgement amidst your breathy whimpers, but Caleb tuts in dissatisfaction while pinching the fat of your ass hard enough for you to shriek “yes gege!”

As the fifth spanking lands, your tears were now streaking down your flushed cheeks and your voice began to wobble while continuing to count.

”N-Nine…”

If only you were able to see the hardened yet pitying expression on his face.

But bad girls needed to be punished, and you were no exception to the rule.

Two fingertips dance along your slit, now coated in your slick— Caleb quirks a brow, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

”What’s this? Are you seriously wet from this, pipsqueak?”

Your ears burn red at him using your own words against you from earlier; your immediate reaction was to deny it, but he had already made it clear that he was onto you and the way you actually enjoyed this with your stepbrother of all people.

An impatient resounding slap echoes when it meets its mark and you hiss in pain. “I asked you a question,” he chides.

You bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

”Oh? So it’s like that, huh.”

Smack!

That last one hurt more than any of the others, evident through how you wail out his name.

”I didn’t tell you to stop counting either.” Caleb’s tone was resolute and pertinacious.

”Ten!” you cry out, “yes I am, sir!”

”Yes, you are what?”

A beat passes before you think twice about ignoring his questions again.

”I’m wet because of you, gege!”

“God, you’re soaked,” he muttered, almost reverently. You wanted so badly to deny it, but when you’re rewarded by his long digits dipping within your folds, the shameful slickness there told the truth for you. You couldn’t help the embarrassingly lewd mewl that escapes you at how the two of them easily slide in with the help of your natural lubrication.

”Now was that so, so hard?” Caleb rhetorically asks as you squirm around atop his lap. You can feel his neglected bulge poke your stomach with every motion you make.

His deft fingers curl upwards to repeatedly stroke your walls, eliciting another drawn out moan from you as they directly make contact with your g-spot. The obscene squelching noises resulting from it cause you to squeeze your eyes shut in burning shame.

”Look at me,” he orders.

You oblige by turning your head with a sniffle. By now the blood from his nosebleed had dried up, the fading red stripe from his nostril down to his shirt reminding you of your monumental mistake.

When your tear-stained face peers up at him, something in his stare softens, but only by a small margin. He hated to see you cry—always had ever since you would bruise your knees at the playground when you two were little—but he knew this was necessary to make amends for your misstep out of line.

Actions never fail to have consequences, as you would come to thoroughly learn.

”There’s my girl,” he says with a slight quirk of his lips, “y’know, I’ve always wondered how you would scream my name and come undone by my touch. Not like this, however.”

You stay silent, unsure of how to proceed with this conversation. You also did not want to incur more of his wrath by saying the wrong thing.

Much to your relief, he continues it for you by sighing and issuing another command.

”Sit up.”

Obediently, you straighten yourself up on his lap, wincing as the sore flesh of your ass chafed against the rough material of his jeans. You wrap your legs around his midsection before burying your face into his chest.

And then it was like the dam broke, the brunt of your mixed emotions surfacing and coalescing into more intense, body-wracking sobs. You unreservedly snivel into his shirt as you shed more and more tears.

His arms tighten around you when he notices your smaller form begin to quiver like a leaf in the wind. Only when he realizes you’re speaking does he relax his hold while leaning back to hear you more clearly.

”I’m s-sorry,” you babble, your words tumbling out one after another while being intermittently punctuated by hiccups, “it was spur of the moment, I’m sorry for hurting you Caleb, you didn’t deserve that…”

Your beloved gege cups your face in his large hands, the pads of his thumbs brushing sweetly against the wet skin underneath your eyes; the very same pair of eyes he swears will be his downfall one day.

He rocks you both with a gentle back-and-forth movement, shushing you in an attempt to soothe you as the hand splayed against your back rubs mollifying circles into the skin there.

Even as he cradles you, you can feel it— how he wasn’t comforting you to exactly make you feel safe. He comforts you to remind you: you belong to him.

“Gege’s here. You’re safe with me— safe from yourself, too. You just don’t know it yet.”

It felt safe. But only because he’d made everywhere else unsafe.

Caleb holds you without another word until you tire yourself out from your weeping. As you succumb to sleep within his arms, he carefully lays your head against his pillows before fetching a throw blanket nearby to drape over your peacefully slumbering frame.

For a long while, he sits and watches as your chest slowly rises up and down with every shallow breath you take. He tenderly moves the stray strands of hair away from your serene countenance.

Finally, he gets up to go to change shirts before going to the bathroom. He stares at his reflection with a hand raised to lightly trace the crusted trail of blood that extends from his nose, down to his chin.

Seeing the aftermath before him made it all so much more real to him— he also couldn’t help the small laugh he had to himself. He knew he had taught his little sister how to throw a good punch well, so naturally she got him so good he was sure his nose was definitely broken.

But, one little punch wasn’t enough to deter him from exterminating the latest pest in his and her life.

One day you’d understand. Of that, Caleb was certain of.

He fishes his phone out of his jean pocket to swipe it open. Then, he navigates to his notes app where your boyfriend’s address is laid in waiting for him.

459 Twilight Boulevard.

Quietly so as to not disturb you, Caleb gets up to pluck his gun from the drawer of his nightstand. He leans down to give you a light kiss against your forehead, to which you adorably crinkle your nose in your sleep.

He chuckles, the sound ominous amidst your innocent breathing.

”I’ll be right back, pipsqueak. Gege has some business to take care of.”

[wttcsms]

if you dare to reject caleb by rationalizing with him and using the good old "you're like a brother to me!" line, it only makes him more forceful with his affections. somehow, it ends up with his hands shoved down your panties, tracing his fingers against your wet slit, gathering up your slick. he's so mean about it, too. mockingly coos "you're getting this wet for your brother?" makes you cum right into the palm of his hands, and asks you why are you cumming because of your brother? you get off on your brother touching you? when he finally fucks you for real, he threatens (promises) to baby trap you; whispers in your ear that everything will be okay because once he gets you nice 'n pregnant, the two of you can start a new family, if that'll make you feel better. will he still be like a brother to you as your husband and baby daddy?

(now, you'll no longer have to grasp for an excuse as to why he's holding your hand in public.)

[buckysgrace]

Good Graces

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader (Gator is in his early 20s and reader is 19ish)

CW: Stepcest/Pseudocest, dry humping, unprotected p n v sex, degradation, cum eating, spanking, Gator’s a bit of a perv but who is really surprised

Your relationship with Gator is anything but pleasant. Your forced proximity drives you insane and he does nothing but pick on you to make it worse. You hate him. At least you think you do.

Gator was a pest. Well, for the most part. Sometimes he’d help you out with chores on the ranch, things that you weren’t used to doing. But most of the time he teased you to no end, constantly finding a way to crawl underneath your skin.

Underneath the dinner table he’d try and play footsie with you, grip your knee or rub at your thigh. No matter how harshly you shoved him away or squeezed his fingers he always came back. 

He was like a middle school boy when he was around you, always finding the need to tug on your bra straps or mess with your hair. Usually you’d just ignore him, but he seemed to really enjoy seeing how far he could push you until you snapped. Which seemed to be more often than not.

“Knock it off!” You snapped, shoving his large hand away as you fixed your tank top again. The warm summer sun was about to melt you, you didn’t need Gator’s irritating voice to add to that. You brushed your hand across your shoulder for good measure, trying to erase the feeling of his fingers against your skin. 

“They’re falling.” He stated as he leaned against the barn, cocking his eyebrows up towards his forehead as you struggled to balance the basket of vegetables against your hip. You slowly bent down for the eggs next, careful not to drop them this time around. 

“Because you won’t leave them alone.” You replied in annoyance, speaking the truth as you successfully held onto both baskets. His lips curled into a smirk, perfectly pink and smooth as he brought his vape up towards his lips. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t dress like a tramp then.” He stated as he shrugged his shoulders, mocking you as he pushed his lips out into a mocking pout. Asshole. He’d made a point of calling you that since he’d accidentally found a pair of your thongs. 

“Maybe you should mind your business,” You told him seriously, ignoring the way your tank top straps fell down your shoulders again, “Or you could help carry something.” You said seriously, feeling like all he wanted to do today was watch you. 

“Okay stepsis.” He smirked as he took the basket of eggs from your arm. His fingers lingered against your side for a second too long, spending sparks up the side of your body. You quickly shoved him off, like usual. He was grabby.

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled as you carried the vegetables back inside of the house. He wasn’t your brother and you weren’t his sister. You were just two strangers stuck underneath the same roof. Forced into close proximity. 

“What should I call you then?” He teased as he dropped his elbows onto the counter in front of you, resting his chin on his knuckles. You inhaled deeply, wondering how badly it would hurt if you whacked him with the carrot in your hands, “Sour puss?”

“No.” You ignored his gaze as you turned the water on, beginning to scrub the dirt away from the vegetables. He leaned across, purposely shutting the faucet off. 

“Okay, darlin’.” His lips curled into another annoying smirk, brown eyes flashing in mischief as he held his hand over the handle. Challenging you, he was definitely playing with you. You could feel your blood boiling as he swaggered his way towards you, standing behind you in a looming manner. 

“Stop it.” You demanded, huffing as you shook your head as his fingers fell against the curve of your neck. You didn’t want him to call you anything. And you really didn’t want him to touch you. You wanted to continue to pretend like he didn’t exist, like your whole life hadn’t been uprooted into this little hell. 

He leaned towards you, breath fruity as he hummed near your ear. Goosebumps spread down your neck, across your body as your fingers became frozen. Everything felt too warm suddenly. Too intense as you snapped your eyes towards his. 

“Sure thing, mama.” He grinned as he pulled away, sun rays dancing off of his eyes to create a golden hue as he slowly pulled away. His tone was deep, raspy even as he blew the words out towards you. Your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest, veins burning from the electricity that had suddenly swarmed through your bones.

It was odd, such a weird little name that for some reason left you tongue tied and your expression frozen into a state of shock. Your fingers dug so tightly into the carrot that you thought you might snap it in half.

His expression was cocky, far too full of himself as he turned on his heel. Your eyes lingered against the back of his head, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating up the stairs as you desperately tried to dig your way out of your frazzled state. 

-

Nights were harder for you. The lack of sun reminded you of your loneliness, of the hole growing in your chest as you listened to the rain pitter-patter against your window. 

Your room looked ancient, like the decor hadn’t changed since the house had first been built. All of the things that were a part of you had been left in your former house, cities away with your father. The one you were really missing right now. 

You weren’t sure what your mother saw in Roy, but it was enough for her to pack up the both of you and leave your life behind. All of your hopes and dreams. Now you were stuck here; in a crowded house surrounded by politics you didn’t want to discuss and strict rules you didn’t understand. 

You jumped, nearly jolting out of your bones at the flash of lightning striking right outside of your window. Thunder rumbled next, sounding like a freight train as strong winds shook the house. It was too dark to look outside, to really see the storm that was brewing. 

You gripped your blankets to your chest, not usually so affected by the dark and rageful storms. But tonight felt different. Perhaps it was because the weather mirrored your emotions, your anger. It was frightening. And you were lonely. The feeling was so intense that you were scared you might drown in it. Or from the rain. 

The power finally went out, just straight died as the fan in your room came to a sudden halt. The air quickly grew muggy, hot and overbearing as you kicked the blankets off of your legs. You could sleep without one.

But then when you turned on your side you pictured a horrible face, frightful and completely unnatural as you snapped your eyes open and then pulled your knees up to your chest. Just to be safe. You wouldn’t put it past Gator to hide in your room and grab your feet.

The rain did nothing to stifle your thoughts as you blindly walked towards the door, letting it creak open as you peeked outside. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness before you confirmed that no one else was moving. Just as usual. Everyone else was going on with their lives.

Candles. You needed candles. Or a flashlight. Some sort of light that wouldn’t leave you in the dark. Especially in this house that seemed to breathe and move on its own. So old that the floorboards had a voice of its own.

The crash of thunder and downpour of rain covered up the squeaky boards you stepped on, leaving you in a blanket of darkness as you blindly searched through the hallways. Downstairs was too risky, and you wouldn’t dare go into Roy’s room.

You searched for the bathroom handle, stumbling around until you were able to wrap your fingers around the doorknob. You blinked a few times, trying to give yourself some sort of sight in the pitch black hallway. No avail. You were still surrounded in it as you shoved the door open. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Gator’s voice rang into the room, making you jolt as the door slammed open against the wall. You winced, quickly grabbing it as you realized your mistake. You’d gone too far. 

“Do you have any candles?” You asked as you furrowed your eyebrows together, glad that he couldn’t see your frazzled state. You needed some sort of excuse for just barging in. You didn’t want to admit that the dark house had scared you. 

“No,” He huffed, bed creaking to signal that he must be sitting up, “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice gruff. You jolted as the door slammed shut behind you, leaving your heart pumping roughly inside of your chest. 

“It’s dark.” You stated as you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly remembering how thin your nightgown was. You never wore it outside of your room and owned it just to combat the heat of the house. 

“The power went out,” He stated, voice condescending as you rolled your eyes, “Sure you weren’t looking for something else?” He was mocking you, teasing you like you had crawled in here for some other reason. Pervert. 

“No.” You took a step back, holding your hand out behind you as you searched for the door once again. You didn’t enjoy being locked in here with him. Perhaps your loneliness would be better. 

“Shame.” He teased as a bright light fell onto your face. You squinted your features up, clenched your eyes shut as you quickly covered your face to keep from being blinded by the bright flashlight.

“You’re a dick,” You huffed, “Give me that.” You stepped forward, blinking your eyes slowly until your knees hit his mattress. At least with a flashlight you could read. That would distract you. 

“Not with that attitude.” He snorted as he turned the light off, giving you the brief glimpse of his shirtless form. It made you gulp, your insides tightening from the sight. You’d seen him in his wife beaters before, but never completely bare. 

“You said I could have it.” You argued as you held your hands against your hips, wondering why he had to be such a pest all the time. You had asked nicely. 

“I did not.” He argued in response, holding the flashlight on the other side of the bed as you reached for it. You grumbled, swatting for it again as you tumbled into the bed with him. His mattress creaked underneath the weight of the two of you, the headboard rattling off against his thin walls. 

“Stop it,” You whined, fully knowing you were being just as immature as he yanked the flashlight away from the tips of your fingers again. Your legs fell between his, twisting together as you continued to fight with him, “Gator, knock it off.” You huffed, jabbing your fingers between his ribs this time in hopes that he would release it.

He yelped, dropping the heavy flashlight with a thud as it rolled underneath the bed. You huffed, trying to untangle yourself from him and reach underneath the bed for it. Your muscles strained as he gripped your wrists, yanking you back and shoving you underneath him. 

You froze underneath him, fingers clenched into a fist as you met his warm eyes. You could almost make out the confusion, the want and need in them as your morals slipped away. His body was warm over yours, slid against yours perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. It was like you could feel the electricity spurring between the two of you.

Thunder drew you out of your thoughts, making you lurch as your body pressed fully against his this time. Making him moan. Oh God. He was too close to comfort, but you couldn’t find the will to push him away. You could feel something sparking deep inside of you. 

His body was heavy over yours, warm as his breath coated the crook of your neck. Your insides felt like they had melted away from the heat, slipped into the cracks of the floor as he rutted his hips down against yours.

A gasp left your lips as he crossed a dangerous territory, your clit throbbing in pleasure as his rough palms fell against the curve of your neck. You breathed in deeply, trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours as you rolled your hips forward to meet his.

Bad. This was very bad. But it felt really good. 

The dark room did nothing to shield the intense look in his eyes as his gaze met yours. You nearly shied away, overcome with a rush of lust as he pushed your legs further apart. No protests fell from your lips as you moved your body upwards towards his, grinding up against his covered bulge. 

You dug your fingertips into his shoulder blades, holding onto him tightly as you felt his hard cock slide against your clothed cunt. Sparks spread through your body, burning harshly as you fully grasped just how large he was. Your mouth was suddenly dry, throat raspy as your hole clenched around nothing. Desperate to be filled.

Your panties clung to your wet folds, sticking in an almost uncomfortably way as you felt your pussy leaking as he dragged the curve of his cock across your slick mess.

His lips were rough against your cheek, warm as soft moans left his lips. The sounds he created made your insides churn, twisting roughly at how whiny he grew. You gasped as you clung to him, hoping that the storm was loud enough to cover both of your messy gasps. 

Your mind felt fuzzy, overcome with white hot lust as you could no longer recall why something that felt so good could be so bad. Your relationship with him didn’t matter right now, not when you were imaging the feeling of his cock inside of your slick walls. You wanted to feel him stretching you apart, sinking into you deeply. 

You gasped, moans bouncing off of his bedroom walls as you rolled your hips up desperately to meet his frantic thrusts. Your clit was rubbing against his clothed cock in the right way, pleasure building deep inside of you as your fingers dug into his soft hips. 

His hair fell out of place, tickling the top of your forehead as he drifted his lips over yours. You lazily pressed your mouth up against his, just enough to feel the sensation of his mouth but not actually kissing him. 

“Gator,” You breathed out desperately, moaning against his warm lips as your cunt burned in anticipation, “Right there. Please.” The storm around you grew quiet as you focused on the sweet sounds that rolled off of his tongue. Never before had someone been so whiny, whimpery for you. 

His eyes were half lidded as he peered down at you, tongue peaking out against his bottom lip as his fingers fell to your hips. He gripped your flesh tightly, holding you tightly as he dragged his cock across your swollen clit. You gaped, furrowing your eyebrows together as the waves crashed over you.

Heat spread through your body, moans pouring off of your tongue as you rocked your body forward in just the right way. Just enough to push you over the edge and leave you a trembling mess. You pressed yourself up against him harder, whining as the pleasure burned through you.

Your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest, rocking against your bones and flesh as your orgasm rocked through you. Gator gripped you tighter, words of encouragement twisting on his tongue as he chased his own high. 

“Fuck,” He groaned as he rolled his hips forward once, then twice before he stalled on top of you, “Holy fuck.” He grunted, his tone slightly whiny as he pulled his hands away from you. He reached for the waistband of his pajama pants, leaving you in a haze as he released his hard cock from his restraints.

His dick fell heavy against your clothed cunt, resting uncomfortably against your swollen clit. You breathed out deeply, doing your best to keep from staring at his long length. You exhaled roughly, eyes briefly meeting his as he pushed your shaking fingers around his girth.

You could feel your insides twisting in pleasure again, your mind still foggy as you began to jerk your hand up and down the length of his cock. You craved the sounds that fell from his tongue, desperately wishing you could taste his sweet moans. It gave you a rush of pride, making you feel like you were doing something right as you moved your hand a little faster. Squeezed your fingers a little tighter.

“Oh God,” He whimpered, eyebrows furrowing tightly together as he messily dragged his hips forward with your quick motions. He haphazardly worked on the buttons of your nightgown, freeing the top two before he ripped the rest of it away. Buttons landed around you from his rough actions, leaving you gasping as his hands fell to your boobs, “You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, pinching at your nipples while you squirmed underneath him. 

You brushed your thumb over the tip of his cock, spreading his precum down his long length as you savored the image of his pleasure across his features. You thought it was annoying for him to look so good, so pretty.

His head fell back once again, his hair clinging to the front of his forehead as he desperately rutted his hips forward. The sound of his cock hitting your fist was obscene, dirty as precum continued to leak from his tip. You watched him, noting the lines on his features and how he was clearly trying to hold this out for as long as he could. You could push him away, leave him to finish on his own. But you didn’t. 

“Wanna fuck you,” He whined, pressing all of his weight into his thrusts with your hand. You blinked slowly, imagining how good it would feel to have his cock slinking into your neglected hole, “Please, please, please.” He begged you, eyes heavy with lust as his eyes burned into yours. 

You shook your head, still not that far gone as you rolled your wrist a little faster. Used your other hand to squeeze at his balls as his moans grew wider and wider. Your whole body flushed from the sounds that rolled from his tongue, definitely louder than you had ever been. 

He cried out as his orgasm crashed over him, rocking through him in strong waves. You clung to him, savoring the way his features wrinkled up into pleasure and how his body shook on top of yours. 

You gasped as thick ropes of cum fell onto your exposed ribs, your hardened nipples and onto your neck and chin. Messy. It was all too filthy, dirty as it laid heavily on your skin. Proof of your sin. Of his. 

But he didn’t seem to mind. Not at all as he dragged his fingers across his cum, swooping it up against his fingers before he smeared it across your lips. You stared in horror for just a brief second before you licked it away, admiring the taste of him on your tongue.

His hands drifted across your curves as you swallowed his spunk roughly. It was so wrong, but that did nothing to soothe the fire inside of you. You watched as his fingers landed at the band of your panties, tugging them down your legs slowly.

You did nothing to stop him, even lifted your hips up to help him. You felt like something else had taken over, some sort of monster as a choked gasp left your lips. He turned towards you in amusement, taking a slow lick from the material. You were embarrassed at the way your legs clamped together, a fresh rush of pleasure rushing through you. 

“Tramp,” He stated, eyebrows cocked together as he rolled off of you. His shoulders fell against yours, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of yours, “See you in the mornin’.” He exhaled roughly, leaving you to stare up at the ceiling as everything came crashing down around you. You listened as he fiddled with the dresser next to him, before you were hit with the smell of fruit. He’d found his vape in the dark. 

You didn’t know what to do. If it was best to stay and pretend to sleep, or to collect your regret and cling the torn material of your nightgown over your exposed body and leave. 

You turned, pulling his sheet up over your chest to hide your shame. The mistake settled over you heavily, nearly drowning you as you listened to how his breathing became deeper and slower. 

-

Avoiding Gator after that was hard. Not on your part, but certainly on his. You had given him just a little bit of what he desired and now he wouldn’t let up. He was touchier than usual, would lean in closer and whisper to you like he expected something to happen. 

And it really did affect you, but you had prayed for so long after the other night that your knees were bruised from the floorboards. You weren’t doing it again. You didn’t agree with your moms choices but you didn’t want her to be disappointed with you either.

You had just finished your hair routine, your pajamas hanging loosely on your body as you took one quick glimpse of yourself in the steamy mirror. Disappointment, shame, disgust. That was all you could recognize in your eyes. 

Your feet dragged across the old floorboards, making you wince as you hoped not to wake Roy again. He had been particularly rude to you the last time it had happened. But it wasn’t your fault his house was ancient.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, quickly shutting your door behind you as you took in Garor spread out across your bed. It was slightly funny. He tried so hard to look tough and yet here he was, lying comfortably across your girlish bed. 

“Does your mom know you read filth?” He asked as he flitted his eyes up towards you in amusement, holding one of your books between his fingers. You quickly crossed the room, anger brewing in your stomach as you yanked the book from his grip. 

“It can’t happen again.” You replied shrilly, feeling like you were losing your mind as you clutched the book to your chest. His white shirt hung tightly to his body, slightly drifting up over his exposed hips. You could make out a tuft of hair poking out from his sweats, but you didn’t let your eyes wander for too long there. 

“Why not?” He asked dryly as he pulled his vape up towards his lips, taking a deep exhale and then blowing it out into the air. You grimaced, sure that by the time you got him kicked out your whole room would reek of him. You didn’t need that remembrance, you could still feel his stains against his skin. 

“Because it’s wrong,” You stated, your face burning from humiliation, “And it wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re my brother.” You reminded him, cringing as the word rolled off of your tongue. You wondered if this was the right time to bring up the panties you’d been searching for as well. You knew he had them somewhere. 

“Step brother,” He corrected, “And it was just for fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, like it really was no big deal. You blinked, shaking your head at him. He just didn’t get it. You didn’t even want to think about what his dad would do if he found out. 

“Get out of my room,” You told him as you took a step to the side, avoiding his gaze as he watched you the whole time, “And shut the door.” You said quickly, not wanting to deal with anymore of his antics. You just hoped he got the hint.

And for a few days it seemed like he did. He didn’t touch you, tease you or even look at you. You should be happy. But something about his actions made you bitter. You felt even more alone, stuck on this huge ranch with no one to talk to. You craved his annoying banter. 

Your task for the day was cleaning the barn, but so was Gator’s. Only he had decided to do it as far away from you as possible. Which you should be glad about, but it irritated you more than anything. Perhaps that’s why you had whipped out your dress, hoping for some sort of attention from him. 

Your bracelet gave way against one of the little fences, falling into a fresh bed of hay. You sighed in annoyance, unable to free the rusted locks to push it open. You paused for just a second, pushing your head between two of the wooden pieces to reach down and grasp it.

Your mistake was quickly realized as you straightened up once again, the material of your dress catching on a piece of the fence. You felt your eyes widen, clearly unable to break free without ripping your clothes off. 

“Gator,” You breathed out in frustration, “I need help.” You gulped, feeling a little embarrassed as the wood dug into your ribs. You breathed in deeply, holding your breath as you tried to squeeze your way out again. No such luck. 

“I’m not doing your chores.” He grumbled from across the barn, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You quickly relaxed again, knowing you should be nice for just a moment. Even if it killed you. 

“No!” You sighed as you shifted again, trying to get the back of your dress freed, “I’m stuck.” You whined as your back dragged against the fence once again. You quickly stopped in fear of getting little blisters in your skin. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, the sound of his footsteps approaching as you tried to wiggle yourself out once again. How cruel. What a dumb situation you had gotten yourself into. 

“I can’t get out.” You whispered, feeling defeated as your hands went limp against the wood. You waited for him to parade your defeat around, to tease you for getting yourself into such a mess. Stupid, stupid. 

He laughed from behind you, clearly mocking you as his shadow formed over the floor in front of you. You fought the urge to huff, to roll your eyes and snap at him. You didn’t want to get left here. 

“What are you doing?” You squeaked out in worry, feeling his boot kick your feet apart. You swallowed harshly, feeling your heart pumping roughly against the crook of your neck as his hand fell over your shoulder. 

“Helping you.” He said simply, making you squeak as he pushed your shoulders further down. You gulped, chest digging into the wood below you as he fumbled with the zipper on your dress. You listened intensely, shivering underneath his touch.

“Did you get it?” You asked, pulse quickening at the feeling of his warmth against yours. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to ignore the excitement that was pooling through you as his hands moved further down your spine, resting at your hips. 

“Almost,” He mumbled, likely trying to hide his mischief as he flipped the hem of your dress up over your hips. You swallowed roughly, finding no protests as he began to rub his palms across the curve of your ass, “You’re really in there.”

You blinked slowly as you felt his rough palms across your bare skin, then back over your panties as he teasingly pulled the band of them and then released it roughly against your skin. You gasped, jolting as you wiggled your hips in response. 

“Uh huh,” You hummed along, nerves jolting around roughly as you felt his bulge against the back of your thigh. You fought the urge to stick your hips up higher in the air, wishing that you didn’t want him as badly as you did. Maybe God wasn’t watching, “Can you fix me?” You asked softly, hating that your view was of the hay covered ground and not of his handsome features. 

You shut your eyes as you listened to the sound of his belt coming undone, then the feeling of your panties sliding down your thighs. You pondered for just a quick second, trying to decide if you were really going to allow this to happen.

“Gator,” You squeaked out in surprise, eyes snapping open as you felt his fingers spread your folds apart. You chewed on your bottom lip, standing up on your tippy toes to bring yourself closer to him, “Oh my God.” You exhaled roughly, eyes widening as the head of his cock fell against your cunt. 

“You’ve got such a pretty tang,” He praised you, making you whimper as he continued to drag his tip in between your folds, “Wanna feel her so bad.” You moaned at his filthy words, wanting to feel him too. Morals be damned. 

“Please,” You desperately tried to turn to face him, only to be reminded of the wood in front of your face, “Need it so badly.” You moaned as his palm fell against the side of your ass, the sound echoing as prickles of pain spread across your skin.

He squeezed his fat cock through your hole, leaving you breathless as he slid inside of you slowly. Each inch made it harder to breathe, to think as the pleasure traveled deep through your body. It was so wrong, but felt so right. 

You whined as his cock filled you to the brim, making your eyes roll out at the delicious way your cunt stretched around his girth. Your fingertips dug into the wood, gripping onto anything for support as your legs threatened to give out.

You exhaled roughly, lips falling apart as spit fell to the corner of your lips. Every rough movement from him made you feel like he was sinking into you deeper, like he was meant to be buried deep inside of you. 

His hands were hot against your skin, exploring every inch and curve as he slowly dragged his cock out until only his tip remained. You couldn’t control the sound of your moans as he slammed back into you, the tip of his cock pressing roughly against your bundle of nerves each time.

“Gator,” You whined as you licked at your wet lips, drooling onto the floor as he rutted his dick deep inside of you. Your eyes felt hazy, heavy as he hit his palm roughly across your exposed ass cheek, “Oh Christ.”

You felt like you were burning as he continued to push his cock deep inside of you, making your toes curl in your boots. No thoughts of how wrong this was crossed your mind as he continued to drag your limp body back against his cock, your cunt leaking around his thick girth. 

“Yeah?” He grunted as he continued to squeeze at your flesh, sounding out of breath as the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoed in the barn, “You like your big brother’s cock?” He hummed the dirty words towards you, not at all leaving you in disgust.

You whined as you desperately grinded back against him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he reached around to rub at your swollen clit. He groaned from behind you, deep and whiny as he messily rocked his hips against your ass. There wasn’t much rhythm to his motions, but you were both so desperate that it worked. 

“Mhm, yes, yes,” You whined, unable to control your tongue as the pleasure burned deep inside of you. You were sure you’d never felt something so dirty and pleasurable at the same time, “Harder. Please, please.” You begged this time, putty in his hands as he snapped his hips harder inside of your leaking cunt.

Your pleasure felt like wildfire, untameable and intense as your walls clamped down across his thick girth. The sounds of your body meeting filled your ears in a sweet melody as everything else disappeared around you. All you cared about was how good he was making you feel. 

His powerful motions moved you onto the tips of your toes, almost knocking your head towards the floor as you held onto the fence tightly. It shook underneath the weight of you two, like it wasn’t built to keep either of you in place. But Gator didn’t seem to mind. And neither did you. 

“Oh God,” You breathed out, moans mingling with his whines as he desperately dug his fingertips into your flesh, sure to leave marks. The curve of his cock fit inside of you perfectly as he dragged you up and down his long length, leaving you desperate for more. You wanted to feel all of him, “More, more.”

“Fucking whore,” He huffed, just as out of breath as you were. But you could still make out the smirk on his tone. But you had no fight left as you whimpered in agreement, knowing without a doubt that this was the worst thing you’d ever done, “God, you feel so good.” He whined as spit fell down across your ass, gliding smoothly off of your skin.

The pleasure was too intense for you, too crushing as your shaky legs fell together. You whimpered, unable to find the words to speak as your muscles clamped from your bliss. You exhaled, moaning as your climax crashed over you roughly.

Gator cooed as he rocked you through it, his fingers rubbing at your bud between your legs as his thrusts became messier. Rougher. It all felt too good, too blissful.

“Gator,” You whined as you licked at your lips again, sighing as you felt his slick balls hit against your skin once again. You enjoyed the feeling of him buried deep inside of you, far more than you should, “Jesus.” You spit out, unable to say anything else as he moaned in response.

“Fuck, fuck,” He huffed, whimpering as his voice cracked from his own pleasure. He held onto you tightly, the tip of his cock pressing deeply against your spongy walls as his cock throbbed inside of you, “Feels so fucking good.” His tone was rough as he came inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

The deed settled roughly on top of you as you breathed in deeply, listening to his rough pants as he pulled his hands away from your sore clit. You whimpered as you felt him pull free a second later, leaving an empty feeling that spread through you. 

You could feel the mixture of the two of you dripping from your swollen hole, but he quickly collected the combination of your cum with his. He shoved it back inside of your cunt with his long fingers, making you gape from the sensation.

“Such a slutty girl,” He teased, leaving you breathless as he curled his cum deep inside of you, “My favorite little sister.” 

[mangostarjam]

KARMAAAA BABEYYYYYY

caleb stretching you out bit by bit; caleb cooing at you even when you wince at the sting; caleb shushing you and kissing away your tears, groaning thick in his throat bc he's not even all the way in yet and he can already see the bulge in ur tummy; caleb hissing that you were made for him of course it'll fit --

i would like to sue for damages and also what the hell this was evil i love you

king sized — caleb x f!reader, 1.6k words, shameless smut, creampie, size kink, reader is called pipsqueak and girl, pseudocest, caleb is called nii-chan a few times, reader is not mc, unedited and written on my phone in a fit of i don't even know lmao

it was an accident, the way your gaze slipped to his shorts — but it's really his fault, because of course it is — what kind of grown man wears shorts that short to the gym?

you're not one to victim blame, but you're the real victim here, anyway. after all, caleb noticed.

(of course he did. caleb notices everything about you.)

"caleb, let me try," you huff, reaching for him. he raises an eyebrow. "will you relax — it isn't even that big. i can handle it."

caleb nearly drops the entire toolbox. there's a hum as his evol activates, saving you both from cleaning up a huge mess, and he clears his throat casually as he settles beside you like nothing happened. "right, right, you're a tough girl now, huh?"

"the toughest," you nod, holding out your hand. "screwdriver?"

caleb twirls the screwdriver in his hand, holding it just out of reach. "i kinda miss when my lil pipsqueak would let me build all her furniture."

"well, we're all grown up now," you say, snatching at his arm. he holds the screwdriver further away, chuckling as you try to drag his hand closer to you. you're practically climbing on top of him, nearly in his lap, but he fends you off with ease. "things have changed, nii-chan!"

"i guess so," caleb muses. you huff. stupid perfectly sculpted muscles. "i'm still bigger than you, though, so let me take care of you."

"i don't care how big you are," you grumble, "i could take you."

both of you freeze. the words drop into the air like stones, and you try with all your might not to glance — down. at his crotch. that you're hovering over.

you clear your throat as heat washes over you. caleb's grip on your wrist tightens just slightly, just enough for you to meet his gaze, which has gone storm dark.

"do you think so?"

it comes out low, like he didn't mean to say it out loud. you blink, and then — you look down.

it was an accident at the gym, but now you're looking on purpose, and… well. caleb is… big.

"y'know, if you keep looking at me like that, i don't think i'm gonna be able to hold back," caleb says conversationally. "so why don't you let me build your bookcase and i'll buy new gym shorts?"

you drag your eyes up slowly, taking in every inch of his perfect form. thick, strong thighs, a trim waist, shoulders so broad you reach for them subconsciously. caleb will always protect you — even when you dig your nails into his shoulders and tilt your head to pout at him.

"i want to try," you say, tugging at his dog tag necklace. "i bet i can take you."

caleb's breath comes out rough, like it's been punched out of him. he watches you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to reach down to his lap. locked into a staring contest with those eyes you've known your entire life, you trail a finger along the thick bulge in his pants and swallow hard.

"fuck."

you're tossed onto the couch before you can even gasp, and caleb's there — kissing you.

softly, carefully, like he's still trying to protect you as his fingers scrabble at the button of your pants. you kiss him back, threading your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly just to hear him groan into your lips as he finally gets your pants loose and yanks them haphazardly down your hips along with your panties.

"caleb, your — shirt," you gasp, spine arching into his as he drags a large hand up your shirt. you feel like you're on fire. he shoves his thighs between your legs, forcing you to spread for him now that your bottom is bare.

"fuck," he mutters again, tearing himself away from your lips to press hot, open mouthed kisses to the bared line of your throat. you squirm at the attention, gasping again as he shoves your bra up to brush his thumb against one peaked nipple.

"shirt," you repeat, tugging desperately at his clothes. caleb relents, leaning up and quickly pulling off his shirt. as soon as he's bare, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, smoothing down the muscles of his back.

caleb returns to your neck, licking and sucking at the fluttering pulse point as you screw your eyes shut. he's overwhelming — he's everywhere. he grips your hip in one hand, pinning you in place and leaving him free to dip his other hand lower, sliding between your thighs and — oh.

"you're so wet," he breathes, lifting his head to stare at you in awe. "for me?"

your cheeks flush. "shut up."

caleb dips one finger in shallowly, a tease. you huff. "even if you're this wet, it's going to be a tight fit."

he says it steadily, like he's talking about the weather. his fingers slip through your folds, gentle and maddening. "i don't want to hurt you, y'know, pipsqueak? but i'll probably reach —" your eyes widen as he brings his fingers coated in your juices up along your stomach. slick cools on your skin as he pauses near your belly button. "around here, i think?"

"caleb," you breathe, thighs aching. you clench around nothing as your core throbs. "please, please —"

caleb's brows furrow and he kisses you again, sweet and deep, his tongue licking at your teeth as he groans. one finger slides in deep, to the knuckle, before he adds another seconds later. you gasp into the kiss as he immediately starts stretching you out, his fingers prodding at your insides in search of something.

your back bows off the couch when he finds it, legs clamping around his hips as you soak his fingers. caleb mutters a curse and presses his face into the cushion behind you, his breaths hot in your ear as he adds another finger.

"caleb —"

"so sweet," he murmurs. the air is filled with your gasps and the wet squelch of his fingers moving in and out of your tight cunt. "so perfect, so good for me, aren't you? just so good, my little distraction. who's gonna build your bookcase now, hm? fuck — just — cum for me first, okay?"

his hand on your hip is trembling. you're overwhelmed, overcome — he's everywhere, he's all you can smell and see and feel — and when he begins rubbing tight little circles around your clit, he's the only thing on your mind as your vision whites out.

you sob as the wave crests, crashing through you, your ankles locking behind his waist as pleasure sparkles up your nerve endings. for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own harsh breathing, and then sensation returns abruptly as caleb presses the tip of his cock to your entrance.

"o-oh—"

"you can take it, right?" caleb huffs, jaw tense as he fucks himself slowly into your tight heat. "aw, don't — don't cry, pipsqueak, here —"

you barely even register the tears leaking out as he pushes another inch in. caleb swipes your tears away carefully, but his gaze is burning. "you're t-too big," you gasp.

caleb chuckles and sinks in another inch. "you say that, but your pretty pussy keeps sucking me in," he murmurs. you can't help but whine as he draws back only to bully his way further in. white hot pleasure dances up your body, wipes out your fears. caleb always takes care of you.

he isn't even halfway in when you cum again. "ah, ah," he groans, fucking into you a little deeper. you're clenching around him, pulsing and dripping all down his cock. it's a miracle he hasn't busted himself yet, but caleb is well known for his iron control.

"caleb," you whine, and you're so pretty like this, breathless and fucked out, eyes teary. caleb presses in deeper, feels your walls cling to him as he stretches you out. "i'm gonna — ah."

he bottoms out as you cum again, his hips finally meeting yours as you gasp through your orgasm. "knew it," caleb murmurs, pressing down on your belly.

your eyes widen as you take in the position of his hand. "oh my god."

"knew i'd fit, knew you could take me, you silly girl," caleb hisses, grabbing your legs and hoisting them up over his shoulders. your eyes widen further at the change in angle, your hands scrabbling for something to hold onto as he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains.

"wait, wait —"

caleb laces his fingers with yours and pins them by your head. you're bent in half, unable to move away, forced to take it as he groans and finally begins fucking you properly.

"you're perfect," he grunts, dog tags swinging wildly above your face as he fucks you. "so — perfect, so good for me, shit."

"caleb, nii-chan, please I'm gonna — again — "

caleb's eyes widen above you and then he groans, hips stuttering, cock kicking as thick ropes of cum shoot off inside you. he manages a few short thrusts, riding out his high, hissing between his teeth as you squeeze his cock with your own orgasm.

"you're dangerous," he breathes, turning his head slightly to kiss your ankle dangling off his shoulder. the gesture makes your heart flutter.

"told you i could take you," you pant breathlessly.

"i didn't doubt you for a minute," caleb promises. he nudges your legs carefully off his shoulders and hisses under his breath when you lock your ankles behind his waist. "are you trapping me?"

"yeah," you say, "this is revenge for wearing those shorts to the gym."

caleb rolls his eyes playfully. "hope you're ready for another round, then."

no way. "you're still hard?" you squeak.

"i finally get to be with the girl of my dreams," caleb says, amusement lacing his tone. "i can carry you to the bed, if you want, but we won't be leaving it for a while."

your eyes widen. "i'll die."

"nah," caleb grins. "you can take it."

[sophiria]

A Family Affair

clanhead!Gojo Satoru x stepmother!Reader

cw: stepcest/pseudocest, stepmother-son relationship, reader is occasionally addressed as mother, family/clan dynamics, motherhood, discussion and appearance of children, implied past infidelity (not between gojo and reader) words: around 800

The birds chirped as they perched on the trees, and the flowers of the estate's luscious garden were in full bloom.

As you basked in the pleasant weather, a wave of powerful energy rippled through the air, and footsteps neared your position. 

"I didn't expect you to stop by this early," you mused, turning around to face your stepson. "Hello, Satoru."

His features softened. "Hello, mother." Satoru materialized not far away from your figure. "I had some time off."

You tilted your head to one side. "Come here." Your voice was mellow as you opened your arms, inviting Satoru into your embrace. "I missed you."

Satoru closed the distance between your bodies, and you stood on your tiptoes before taking him into your arms and wrapping them around his shoulders. 

"How are you doing, Satoru?" You held him to yourself, your hands caressing the back of his head. "Rumor has it that curses have doubled lately."

He splayed his hands on your back and buried his face into your neck. "These past few weeks have been exhausting, but you know I recover faster than anyone else."

You leaned back and placed one of your hands under his chin, tilting it up. "And your eyes?"

He hooked a finger into his blindfold, and it slipped at the end of his neck. His sky-blue eyes glowed, yet they were uncharacteristically bloodshot. "The strain was bad, but nothing that can't be fixed."

You studied his features before cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb under his eyes. "You'll need to fight with your blindfold on for a while, Satoru."

He circled your wrist with his hand, holding it gently. "Are you worried about me, mother?" His tone was deep and humorous. "You know I'm the strongest."

You held his gaze. "I know you are." A soft smile surfaced on your lips, and your cheeks made him think of ripe peaches. "You can't blame me for worrying, though."

Satoru pressed his lips against your wrist. "You've been doting on me ever since you married my father," he murmured as his lips grazed your skin. "To think I'm actually older than you."

You leaned forward and nuzzled his snowy-white hair. "Do you mind it, Satoru?"

His lips left your wrists, and he took your face between his hands. "No, I don't mind it." Satoru rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you."

You looked up at him through your lashes. "And how do you feel about me?"

A little chuckle left his lips. "I think you know." He wrapped his arms around your upper body, enveloping you fully. "You've known ever since the first night of your marriage to my now deceased father."

His lips found yours, and Satoru took you in an open-mouthed kiss, languidly swirling his tongue around yours as you reciprocated, noses bumping against one another.

Someone neared you both, clearing their throat before bowing. "Clan-head Gojo-sama," they called out reverently, addressing him first and then you. "Gojo-san."

Your lips separated, and you both tilted your head towards the source of the voice. Then, you spoke up. "What is it?"

The servant kept their head slightly bowed. "Your scion has finished their studies for today, Gojo-san. Shall I bring them in?"

You and Satoru exchanged a look. "Of course," you replied. "You can tell my child they can join his mom and big brother."

A third type of cursed energy wafted through the air, and your child approached the both of you. The servant bid their goodbyes, leaving the three of you alone.

Satoru grinned. "Hey there, kid." He placed a hand on your little one's head, ruffling their hair. "How did today's training go?"

Your little one huffed. "Too hard!" They rummaged through a tiny bag and pulled out some sweets. "Now I need to eat sugar or my head will keep hurting."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "'Too hard'? What?! Kid..." he let out a dramatic sigh, ruffling your child's hair once more. "You're strong—you know you can do it."

You smiled in amusement as you looked at your child. "Remember to brush your teeth after it," you warned them gently. "And leave a little space in that belly for dinner."

Your child rolled their eyes and then popped some candies into their mouth. "By the way..." they eyed Satoru. "How do I call you now that we're alone?"

He smirked softly and swiftly scooped them up in the air, which had your child squealing before laughing. 

"You're my child," Satoru told your little one as he stole one of their candies. "You can call me dad, of course." He narrowed his eyes briefly. "And once the higher-ups retire..." he paused, smirking at his own choice of words. "...you'll be free to call me dad in public too."

[inkykeiji]

purge me, purgatory

character: caleb warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudo-cest, noncon that turns into dubcon, a hint of dacryphilia, toxic masculinity, reader is a bit of a brat, size difference, manipulation, praise, caleb can get a little mean, nightmares, toxic relationship, power dynamics, pet names words: 5.3k

notes: i started working on this piece before caleb had even been released and i am SO glad i finally finished editing it. this also wasn’t supposed to be nearly as long as it became but alas, such is my curse (◞‸◟；) please heed the warnings above and stay safe!

You know Caleb has nightmares. You’ve seen the toll they take on him: exhaustion hanging heavy over hunched shoulders, staining sunken eyes with rings of purple, face twisted into a grimace as he collapses in the chair across the table from you, an untouched bowl of apple oatmeal steaming in front of him.

“Another one?” you’d always say, voice so kind and cautious, so wan and worried, bottom lip caught between your teeth muddling the question. 

“Yeah,” he’d always respond, dragging a hand down his face as if he’s trying to scrub the fatigue from his features. “But don’t worry about me, pipsqueak. I’m okay.” 

You know Caleb has nightmares—but they’ve never been as bad as this one. 

Because tonight, it wakes you from your slumber, roused gently from sleep’s embrace by the rough whimpers seeping through the thin drywall separating your bedroom from his. 

They sound painful, terrified little noises that keep catching on the uneven hitches of his breath or splintering sharply in his throat, unintelligible pleads sprinkled throughout, too muffled for you to make out the content and chopped up by hiccups.

A dull, dense pang sears through your heart at his yelped out No!, emotion growing thick in your throat and stinging your eyes. Fingers curling in linen, you hug your blanket to your chest, a feeble attempt to quell the ache.

There’s nothing worse than hearing your big brother—your one and only protector, always—in such intense agony. 

And it isn’t stopping. 

It’s too much to bear, your nose beginning to twitch with the threat of tears, and you kick your legs free from your duvet, bare feet hitting cold hardwood a moment later. 

“C-Caleb?” your timid voice soaks into the wood of his bedroom door, followed by a soft rap of knuckles. “Caleb, are you alright?” 

You’re met with a deafening silence, so thick you swear you can feel it weighing down on your chest, lungs crushed beneath the force, ears ringing with it.

“Caleb?” you press your ear flush to the door, eyes squeezed shut in concentration—the ruffling of sheets, the quiet groan of a bedspring, and then, a sniffle. 

Something cracks in your chest, splits itself open so big and so wide it has you hunching over in pain, shoulders curling inward as if your body is trying to keep from tearing apart, one hand flattened over your sternum, the other gripping the brass doorknob.

Another sniffle and the knob is turning, the door falling open, your body stumbling through the threshold. 

Your breathing is laboured, ragged and unevenly shoved from your lungs by a rapidly palpitating heart, a choked version of his name mangling itself in your throat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, but his voice is thin, weak, fragile, fingertips thumbing aggressively at his eyes, flesh mopping up remnants of teardrops.

It’s a tone of voice that you’ve never heard before, a tone that turns your blood to shards of ice in your veins, a tone that has unease blooming at the base of your spine, crawling up the notches one by one. 

Because Caleb has never been afraid before; you’ve never seen Caleb afraid before. Out of the two of you, he’s always been the strong one, the brave one, the ‘I-can-and-I-will-take-on-anything’ one. He’s always been your guardian angel, your watchdog, your shield from all the bad and scary things in the world. 

You thought he always would be—it is what he promised, after all. 

But right now he looks so small surrounded by a crumpled sea of cotton, tufts of hair clinging to his sweat-drenched temples, muscles tense and rigid, like a predator ready to pounce at the slightest hint of danger.

It has you rushing towards him, falling into his waiting arms—trembling, but safe—and clutching at the collar of his worn t-shirt. Instinctively, your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, cedar and peppermint streaming down your throat to fill your lungs with him. Your chest swells with his essence, held deep within your core, a natural sedative, your heart beginning to slow.

Home; your big brother will always smell like home. 

You allow yourself another moment to steep in his scent before you finally pull back to look at him, hands clasped tightly around his neck, fingers toying with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck—a nervous habit for you, a calming sensation for him.

“What happened?” 

“Nightmare,” he chuckles, but the word is shaky. “Pretty standard stuff. Nothin’ to be concerned about, pipsqueak.” 

And his facade of nonchalant is good, but it isn’t good enough to fool you.

Frenetic eyes search his face, noting the sheen of cold sweat glazing his skin, the salt that has dried his lashes in thick spikes, the panic swimming in violet irises, concern weighting the corners of your lips. 

“Caleb,” you begin slowly, “you woke me up.” 

His brow furrows, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I…Did? Has that ever happened before?” 

And that’s all it takes, really, to have Caleb switching into his Big Brother Mode, stern and straight to business, the need to know if he’s disrupted your precious sleep before much more important than the terror he was experiencing mere moments ago, as if your comfort matters more than his own. 

“No,” your fingers push into his hair and his head dips, a hum vibrating in his chest. “This one was bad. I can tell.” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, his neck curving more, his forehead nearly bumping against your collarbone.

“I’m worried it’ll come back the moment you close your eyes,” you admit, nails raking along his scalp, a shiver coursing through his body, following your ministrations. 

“How many times do I gotta tell you? You don’t need to worry about me.” 

And although it’s supposed to be a reprimand, it comes out soft, no heat to his voice as his head follows your touch, tilting to the side and allowing your fingers more room to move.

He has told you, many times before in many different tones, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever actually listen. 

It isn’t your fault; you can’t help how much you care for him.

“Just because I don’t have to, doesn’t mean I won’t,” you huff out, a bite to your voice. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it; it isn’t going to stop me from caring about you, so you might as well—”

He looks up suddenly, brows knitted and eyes hard. 

“Who’s the big brother here, huh?” violet scours your face, his gaze bright and sharp, searching for an answer. “Who’s job is it to take care of who?”

“It is our job to take care of each other,” you say, palms flattening to the sides of his head and inhibiting him from looking away. “It’s a joint effort, Caleb.” 

The hinges of his jaw flex beneath your touch, a forceful sigh flaring his nostrils, his shoulders deflating a little in your stark stubbornness. An argument is nipping at the tip of his tongue, desperate to pry past his lips and reassert authority, but his teeth clench, molars grinding together. 

“Why don’t I stay with you tonight?” you continue, thumb smoothing out that thick vein in his forehead. “Might make you feel better if you’re not alone—kind of like the way we used to make blanket forts in the living room during really bad thunderstorms.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—” 

“Come on,” you whisper, brushing a strand of damp hair back from his temple. “Let your little sister take care of you for once, yeah?” 

“I’m fine—I’ll be fine—”

“You always say I make everything better, so…” you shrug, eyes searching his. “Let me make this better. Please.” 

The sincerity straining your voice is potent, so much so that he swears he can feel it surrounding him in a suffocating embrace, soaking into his skin and permeating his muscles with something dense and heavy. It weighs him down, roots him to your aura, immobilizing him physically and mentally, the sweetest poison.

Swallowing, he looks away from your piercing eyes.

“It’s not—”

“Caleb,” you whine out, petulant, his name dripping out stringy and thick through a pout. “What is with this reluctance to allow me to take care of you every once in a while? It’s not fair.” 

You sound like a fucking child, and for a moment Caleb is transported back to your shared youth, that telltale pout a lethal weapon he has encountered many times before, that telltale pout a lethal weapon he has yet to find a defence from, an antidote for.

And you, well, you know this—he knows you know this, your infamous brattiness finally making an appearance, usually a foolproof way to get what you want from him, even it if comes with a hefty dose of reprimand. 

Your gaze, glassy and hard, is framed by furrowed brows, nose scrunched up in typical distaste.

His stare searches your own, and you hold your expression open for him—so willing, so wanting—his own eyes darkening with something you can’t quite place. A shiver skitters up your spine, but you swallow against the unease, continuing. 

“I want to help,” you say. “Please.” 

It isn’t right—he doesn’t need your help, shouldn’t need your help, fated to the role of big brother and, by extension, Man of the House; if anything, it should always be him comforting you. 

Well, that, and the undeniable fact that having you in such close proximity—so intimate, sharing a bed after a nightmare—is tantalizing, and that makes it dangerous. 

But he doesn’t know how to say any of that, how to thread those thoughts into sentences and push them from his disinclined tongue.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter, because in the end you get your way, just like you always do—just like he always lets you. 

“Alright,” he finally says, the word nothing more than a defeated huff of breath. “Alright.”

Disappointment sinks hard and heavy in his chest, and Caleb bites his cheek, disgusted with himself. It’s stupid to feel such dismay; he should be used to this by now. Maybe he had hoped that this time, he would be strong enough to deny you. How utterly silly of him to believe he was capable of such a feat.

“Gosh,” you roll your eyes, playfully nudging his nose with your own. “Don’t sound so excited.”

But your amusement is not contagious, Caleb’s expression steadfastly dismal, your smile fading as your brow crinkles in confusion.

“Hush, now,” he says, but his voice is gentle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You need rest.” 

The numbers glowing on his nightstand indicate that yes, you do need rest, you both need rest, and you nod, allowing Caleb to manhandle the two of you beneath his blankets.

The delicate scent of warm toffee and fresh orchid engulf him, one of Caleb’s strong arms curled around your waist, slotting your back up against his chest.

“Sleep,” he instructs, the order rumbling his ribs, his voice low and gruff. “My little protector.” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, but your eyes slip shut. “You’ll be thanking me in the morning.”

But Caleb’s not so sure. 

Because despite your presence being warm and comforting and full of home, Caleb can’t fucking sleep. 

Because you are too fucking close. Abnormally close; inappropriately close, and it’s driving him up the Goddamn wall. 

He’s tried everything—first shuffling away a little, just to put a couple inches of space between your bodies; close enough for you to still feel his presence, and for him to still feel yours, but not too close to be considered indecorous. 

When that didn’t work, when your body sensed the loss and instinctually sought out his own, Caleb shoved himself so his back was pressed flush to the drywall—as far as he could possibly get without physically removing himself from the bed entirely—but that didn’t help, either. 

Because you’re like a little magnet, attracted to his body heat, burrowing through wrinkled sheets to glue yourself to his form as if it is natural, normal, entirely intuitive. 

Even in sleep, you’re greedy. 

Caleb supposes he’s even worse. 

Caleb could, realistically, turn away from you—present you with his sculpted back and protect his front from your unconscious attacks; or leave the bed entirely, opting to sleep on the too-small, too-scratchy sofa in the living room downstairs so he doesn’t have to worry about hands with minds of their owns—hands desperate to touch and grope and mark, hands that can’t keep to themselves. Caleb could wake you up and firmly insist that you go back to your own bed, exercising his Big Brother Authority and overruling any and all of your rebuttals and arguments—but he doesn’t, because he can’t. 

Because he’s fucking weak, weak to his own wicked whims, a slave to his sins, drowning in his own desire. It’s too good of an opportunity to give up, his deepest, darkest indulgences presented to him on a platinum platter, crafted by the devil himself. And Caleb isn’t strong enough to resist it’s enticing allure, ironclad willpower melted to sticky silver in the heat of your body, seeping from your flesh into his, poisoning his blood and his brain.

That’s what you do to him; you eat up his logic and spit it back out, mangled and gross, you consume his highly prized self respect and military-grade discipline and reduce him to something desperate and degenerate. 

And eventually, finally, his worst nightmare comes true. 

It’s stifling in his bed, the fabric of his t-shirt damp with sweat—yours, his, does it matter?—and plastered to his body. His tongue has turned to sand in his mouth, dry and grating and heavy. Swallowing does nothing to alleviate the discomfort, the action rough and sticky, the gummy walls of his throat sticking together with the motion.

Water would be nice, but there’s no way for Caleb to slip from your embrace—a thigh thrown over his hip, a palm pressed to his sternum—without ruining your peaceful slumber. 

And you do look oh-so-peaceful; so serene, so ethereal, so fucking breathtaking that it’d be a crime to spoil such a sight.

Moonbeams stream through the window, painting you in strokes of translucent silver. It catches on the beads of sweat adorning your neck, dewdrops that glitter with the steady throb of your jugular, and Caleb feels saliva begin to flood the underside of his tongue, thick and slimy. 

Sweat has water in it, doesn’t it? 

It happens before he even has a chance to think it through, a primal desire his body knew needed to be met, tongue unfurling from its cavern slow and sick to trace along that jagged pulse.

Your neck arches into his taste, offering him more—such a good little sister, you are—and he takes, a slave to temptation, tongue flattening against your flesh and licking one long, wide stripe from the notch of your collarbone to the hinge of your jaw.

It’s delicious, better than anything he could’ve ever imagined, and Caleb laps at you again, harder this time, rougher this time. 

Your essence, salty sweat and bitter perfume, explodes on his tastebuds, and something rattles, roars to life, deep within his chest. It ignites a hunger within him that cannot be sated— dark, desirous, depraved as it claws at his sternum, no matter how much he takes, it always wants more, his desperate attempt to feed it only working to make it more voracious.

It awakens the monster rooted at the core of his soul, a sordid creature borne of something illicit and sinister and wrong many years ago. It sparks the ever-simmering addiction kindling in his rotten, charred heart—a craving that flares higher, burns brighter with every passing second, leaving him intoxicated and stupid, drunk on your aura.

If he doesn’t cut it out he’s going to lick your skin raw—how many licks to get to your sugary sweet center?—your saccharine sweat staining his tongue. 

His mouth latches over your collarbone and sucks, tongue swirling around the knob as his teeth scrape, nipping superficially. Tiny tangles of capillaries snap beneath the force, violet flooding the tissues beneath the thin barrier of skin—and oh, how sweet your blood must taste, how shameful to have it trapped beneath your flesh. 

A soft moan vibrates in your throat as Caleb seals the mark with another heavy lave, pressing a singular kiss to the rapidly developing bruise. Pulling back slightly, violet eyes sweep across the mess he’s made of your flesh, fleeting marks that will fade much too quickly for his liking.

A callused thumb ghosts over the bloom, an involuntary whimper catching in his throat. 

“So pretty,” he breathes to himself, caressing the mark again. 

A delicate shiver quivers through your flesh, procured by his airy words, and Caleb coos, tongue washing over your skin again in a crude caress, his hot breath cool against the glaze of saliva he’s painted in its wake. 

“Y’like that?” he whispers, the question barely more than a wisp wafting over your soaked skin. “Y’want me to do it again?” 

You answer with the softest mewl and a groan rumbles his ribcage, his hips snuggling between your spread thighs, a dainty wheeze pressed from your chest as his weight bears down on you. 

His tongue lolls out from between his teeth, thick strings of drool dripping off the tip to drizzle along your neck, sopped up a mere moment later as the slick muscle rolls along your flesh, following the scrape of his front teeth. 

Another gentle tremble ripples through your form—such precious responses to your big brother’s mouth!—and he runs his teeth along the curve of your throat again, revelling in how such simple actions can pull such gorgeous reactions from you, entirely subconscious. 

That must mean you like it, right? Such responses clearly connote your enjoyment, don’t they? You ought to know, on some subconscious level, that it is your big brother doing this—that it is Caleb’s lips and Caleb’s tongue and Caleb’s spit, that it is Caleb that you are reacting to.

It’s impossible to quell the slow gyrating of his hips as he feasts on your flesh, aching cock grinding against your thigh in messy little circles, fully hard and tenting flannel. He can feel the small pool of pre-cum steadily garnishing the slit, leaking through his PJ pants to leave shimmering smears of his perverted pleasure along the silky skin of your inner thigh.

He’s getting greedy—he knows he is, but he just can’t seem to restrain himself, your essence too alluring to resist; a compulsion, uncontrollable and unquenchable.

He should stop before you wake to your big brother gnawing at your neck and humping your thigh; really, that’s what any good, decent big brother would do. Your rest is important, after all. 

He should do a lot of things.

But he doesn’t, because he can’t. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to. 

The sensations are overwhelming; something he’s spent several years denying himself, something he’s spent several years dreaming about—it doesn’t count if it’s just in his head, right?—and he finds himself drowning in it, embraced in the ecstasy.

“God, fuck,” he whimpers, curse cracking in his throat. “You feel so—so good.”

Forehead pressed into the crown of your head, his breath is sweltering and damp along your hairline, rough little moans spilling from his lips with each rut of his pelvis. 

“Y’so perfect for me, letting me use you like this,” he manages to gasp out, eyes squeezed shut, imagining how stunning you must look in the throes of pleasure; dazed eyes glazed with lust and rolling back in your skull, lips licked raw and mouth dropped open as the sweetest symphony plays on your tongue, spine bowing off his mattress as pure rapture climbs the notched vertebrae.

Oh, what he’d give to see such a sight, just once.

He wishes he could trick himself into thinking that a singular instance of experiencing such beauty would be enough to keep him from committing such a heinous act of indecency ever again, but he knows that isn’t true. 

Because already he wants more, gluttonous for your body, yearning to be buried in the warmth of your sweet little cunt; and he’s barely taken anything at all yet. Caleb can’t imagine what sort of creature this monster would evolve into under such circumstances. Too much is never enough. 

Caleb sure as hell can’t trick himself into believing such nonsense, but he sure as hell can trick you. 

He doesn’t realize you’ve awoken until he hears your tiny voice, muffled by his chest, fingers pressing into his tensing abs. 

“Cae—Caleb?” his hips stutter at the sudden sound—so quiet, so scared—his cock twitching against your leg. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” he hushes you, body sliding down yours so he can search your face, so you can see the sincerity, the desperation, shining in his gaze, his cock pressed hot and hard against your core. “Just—” his hips roll once, a groan catching in his throat as his shaft is enveloped by your swollen lips, so easy to feel through the flimsy fabric of your pyjama shorts. “—Enjoy it.” 

“Wh-What?”

“Come on, just this once.” 

“Caleb,” you begin, and the fear in your voice, tinged with a sick sort of curiosity, has another moan clawing at the back of his tongue, hips rolling into yours slow and purposeful. “This isn’t right…” 

“No one has to know,” he slurs out, nuzzling his cheek against your temple in a crude form of comfort. “We keep so many secrets—what’s one more?”

“No, Caleb—” your hands furl into fists, pushing into lean muscle, and a dark, decadent sound of amusement drips from Caleb’s lips. Oh, how pathetically precious the you think you could ever shove him off. 

But your squirming is beginning to annoy him, that telltale aggression building in his chest—an anger only you seem to evoke, especially when you’re being uncooperative—and he snarls, pulling back a little to fix you with an unimpressed look, his hips pinning you to his bed. 

“Tell me it doesn’t feel good,” he glares at you, his words a cross between a growl and a whine, and it’s hard to tell if it’s a demand or a plead. “Go on, fucking tell me. Say ‘it doesn’t feel good, Caleb. Your cock doesn’t feel good, Caleb’. Come on.” 

Your lids clamp shut in the face of his intense, invasive stare, tears blossoming along the seam of your lashes, a pitiful squeak catching in your throat as your head shakes.

“No? Why not?” A hand wreathes itself around your jaw, blunt nails biting into your cheeks, the pain causing your eyes to spring open. “Is it because you can’t?” 

The question has that same taunting tone he’s used since you were kids—that infuriatingly blasé I’m-better-than-you cadence, the one that proclaims that you’re stupid and he’s superior, that he always wins—and a fierce flame of determination ignites within your ribs, eyes hardened and teeth barred. 

“It—It doesn’t feel—Oh, oh, Cae—”

And you’re trying, trying so desperately to force those words from your tongue, to spit them from your lips and devour the smugness glinting in his eyes, but then he’s moving again, the slick head of his cock rubbing over your clit in precise movements—back and forth, back and forth. 

That isn’t fair, but when has Caleb ever played fair, really?

He’s got you completely trapped beneath his body now, his knees digging into the mattress as he shifts his weight, forcing your thighs open wider.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.” 

“I—It’s not—It doesn’t—” A mewl of frustration slices your sentence, chased by a groan of defeat. 

“C’mon, angel, spit it out already if it doesn’t feel good.” 

Squinting in the face of his mocking stare, you steel yourself, throat rippling with a thick swallow of resolve. 

“We shouldn’t—” The sentence splinters with a whine, your words pulled taught between virtue and desire. 

Tears cloud your eyes, rendering Caleb nothing more than a shimmering blur, and you blink rapidly in an attempt to clear them, tiny droplets caught by your lashes. 

“You’re a terrible liar, y’know that?” he breathes, the question damp on the shell of your ear. “I can feel how turned on you are, silly little girl.” 

His hips rock forward once in accentuation, the movement slow and purposeful, as if to prove a point. His clothed cock glides over your drenched cunt with ease and the head strokes your swollen clit again, another torrent of heat rushing to the apex of your thighs. 

“And you know what this tells me?” his voice drops to a whisper. “It tells me you like it.”

Pins of humiliation erupt across your cheeks, tingling heat flooding your face. A soft sob stutters your chest, head shaking in weak denial—a denial that you like it, or simply a denial that this isn’t moral, neither of you can be sure.

“Besides, don’t you wanna take my mind off that stupid nightmare?” His voice drops an octave, deep and devious, chills skittering across your skin. “This—” he rolls his hips once in emphasis, “this will help.” 

“Cae…” 

And he can hear it; can hear the internal struggle reflected in your voice, a tug-of-war between the need to please and the obligation to do what’s right.

“Come on, be a good little sister for me—you said you wanted to make me feel better, right? This will make me feel better. This will make me forget all about it.” 

This will bring him to the crest of bliss, the closest to Heaven he’s sure he’ll ever get. 

“I…I don’t—” 

“Why can’t you just enjoy it with me, huh?” Caleb murmurs, dragging the words along your jaw then planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Give in to it. Just this once.”

It doesn’t take much coaxing before you’re nodding into his neck, body gone slack beneath his own; you’ve always been so easy for him, so eager to obey even with venom in your mouth and fire in your eyes. Caleb supposes that’s just a big brother’s influence. 

Because no matter how much you retaliate, how much you taunt and tease him, you have always wanted to be his good little girl. Praise from Caleb is sacred, precious, and rarely doled out. It must be savoured, protected, cherished. 

And so you allow your big brother to find comfort in you, in the warmth of your body, in the melody of your moans, praying that this short-lived ecstasy will be enough to cleanse his mind of its nightmares.

“There’s my good girl,” he hums, pleasant and triumphant, the reverence sealed with a chaste kiss to the edge of your hairline. 

Then he’s pulling away and sitting back on his heels, an arrogant little smirk materializing on his lips at the discontented whine that sounds at the back of your throat. Violet stares down at you with such passion it nearly burns, his callused palms pushing your knees open wider, following the V of your thighs until finally, finally, he reaches the apex. 

“Fucking Christ.”

Drenched silk outlines the contours of your cunt—No undies, huh? How naughty—and Caleb reaches out, tracing the shape, pointer finger ghosting over every bump and dip and curve. 

“Gorgeous,” he breathes to himself, gaze hungry and unblinking, enchanted by your body—enraptured by your arousal, captivated by your reactions; the way every graze of his fingertip sends a delicate wave of pleasure tremoring through your flesh; the way his touch makes your lashes dither, unsure if they want to stay open or snap shut. “Let me see it.”

Potent lust leaves his voice husky, and while his sentence is a statement, it comes out as a plead—desperate, desirous. 

Vying fingers pull your sleep shorts aside to reveal your glistening cunt, a whine vibrating deep in the back of his throat. Chest heaving with yearning, his trance stays unbroken, his mouth parted and his tongue pulsing with each of his heavy breaths. 

For a moment everything is still, silent, Caleb revelling in the radiance of your body.

Then something snaps, the final thread of thin resistance broken, and he’s surging forward, teeth catching on your upper lip as his mouth collides with yours, procuring the prettiest little yelp to crack in your chest. He swallows it down greedily, tongue breaking through the barriers of lips and teeth to lavish your mouth in his spit. 

His hips are moving again, shoved snug between your spread thighs, sharp hipbones carving bruises into supple flesh. Each forceful roll of his pelvis has his cockhead catching on your hole—so close, so close—a vicious shudder coursing through his form.

And he can feel it, he can feel your cunt through the thin flannel of his pyjamas—teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, each gentle contraction begging for him to stuff it full—another groan rattling from his mouth into yours. 

It’s all simultaneously too much and not enough, the soft breaths of his name exhaled hot and heavy onto his waiting tongue and the eager fluttering of your cunt desperate to suck him in and the nails scrabbling at the back his neck and—and Caleb feels like he’s going to burst out of his fucking skin, flesh starting to split at the seams, if he doesn’t get more, now. 

He’s hardly aware of what he’s doing, moving on pure instinct as a hand snakes between your bodies and paws at the waistband of his pants, the heel of his palm pushing it down just enough to free his aching cock.

A faint Caleb, no, wait! tugs at the back of his consciousness, blotted out by sheer lust as his palm wraps around the base of his cock, head bumping purposefully against your hole. 

The cry that shatters in your throat as he shoves himself into your cunt is nothing short of gorgeous, his own responding whine straining his throat. One quick, hard thrust to bury himself to the hilt is all it takes before his cock is throbbing, filling you with copious amounts of cum—so much, too much, and Christ, when has he ever cum like this?

It’s so intense that it has his whole body tensing, pleasure whiting his vision and wiping his mind and all he can smell, feel, taste is you, you, you—toffee and orchid shooting straight to his brain, your body knotted with his, hips rocking up in desperate little movements as you try to fuck yourself on his spent cock, your sounds of pleasure sweet on his tongue and he licks into your mouth, starved for more. 

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!” 

“M’here, baby,” he slurs against your mouth, rubbing his lips into yours. “M’here, come on, make a mess for me.” 

He isn’t even sure you cum—something he’ll berate himself for in the morning—but in the moment it doesn’t even matter, his brain so poisoned by the pleasure that it’s turned to a pulsating mush, intoxication flooding his veins as he submerges himself in you. His hips stutter as his cock twitches with those last few ribbons of cream, almost as if he’s trying to fuck his seed deeper into you, before his trembling muscles finally give out, Caleb collapsing on top of you. 

“God,” he gasps out, lips moving against the crown of your head. “Th-Thank you.” 

The gratitude is punctuated by a kiss to your hair, his breath hot and erratic on your scalp. 

“Thank you,” he says again, a singular arm twined around your waist as he manhandles you both onto your sides, your body cradled close to his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Caleb falls into a peaceful sleep. 

[zorosdimples]

obey me brothers x reader⌇ tw: yandere elements, pseudocest, dubcon/noncon (it isn’t clear), tiny mention of monsterfucking. reader is initially gn but forced into a female role.

You’re mysteriously whisked away to the Devildom and forced to live with the seven avatars of sin; however, you aren’t there under the guise of an exchange student program, and you certainly aren’t enrolled in classes at RAD. Instead, you take up the role of the brothers’ departed and beloved sibling: Lilith.

Through Diavolo, Lucifer discovered that you are one of Lilith’s descendants. To appease his twisted desire for a “complete” family, he convinced the demon price to allow you to take up permanent residence in the House of Lamentation. And though none of the brothers actually share flesh and blood—nor you with them—they insist that they feel a kinship with you.

Lilith’s perfectly preserved bedroom is yours. They call you by her name and throw away all of your possessions so that you have to dress as she once did. In a home full of demons, you look like an angel, her pearly robes the only bright spot amidst the foreboding interior, the gauzy garments much too revealing for your taste. But you look just like her, Asmo croons. Beel licks your cheek (you taste just like her, too).

But perhaps even stranger than the brothers forcing you to fill the role of their dead sister—forcing you to walk like her and talk like her and act like her—is your mandated “bonding time” with the brothers.

Every day, they each get an entire hour with you to do whatever it is that they please. It often goes like this: Lucifer chats with you in his study over coffee and classical music; Mammon shops with you online or turns on a movie; Levi ropes you into two player games; Satan reads books to you; Asmo gives you makeovers; Beel drags you either to the kitchen or to the home gym; Belphie naps in your lap as you tell him bedtime stories.

But things look different when the brothers are feeling pent up. And for some reason—biological or calculated you have no idea—their sexual frustration always seems to always coincide. Then, you have seven hours of uninterrupted “playtime,” the duration of which you’ve never remained fully conscious.

Because each demon intends to use his entire allotted hour down to the millisecond, pushing your delicate human body to the limit. Whether it’s on a tongue that resembles a tentacle, clawlike fingers, or a cock bigger than your forearm, you will come so many times that all you can remember—all you can dream of—is how they call you...

Lilith. Sweet, sweet Lilith.

[vampyr-ss]

family outing | t. fushiguro

authors note: happy holidays freaks.

summary: toji decides to take his pretty little stepdaughter out for a picnic

pairing: toji fushiguro x stepdaughter!reader

wc: 4k

warnings: smut under the cut + dark content (stepcest) + public sex + spitting + pussy/ass eating + mating press + breeding kink + comparison + dumbification + dacryphilia + ‘daddy’ + creampie + overstimulation + infidelity + praise + degrading + squirting + age gap (15 years) + slut shaming + lmk if i missed anything mwah

others: inspired by these videos: 1 2, unedited

toji never really cared for your mother. she was decent, had a good job and held his attention for long enough. it didn’t take a genius to know you hated her, though. you were hostile whenever you were home and spent most of your time far away from her in the mansion you called home.

you were home for your brief holiday before you began grad school, and toji had failed to keep his eyes off of you from the beginning. when he came home to were laying on a pool chair wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he’s ever seen. you’d barely looked over your sunglasses to greet him. that was the first time he wanted to bend you over, though excitedly not the last.

you barely spoke to anyone while you were home despite your mother pestering you about getting to know toji. they got married while you were out of the country, not that you’d bothered making an effort to see her or him anyway. however, toji was enjoying watching you shift in false discomfort when your mom suggested you two go off and do something together while she works. he watches the way your legs cross and your eyes light up albeit subtly. that’s why he takes the perfect opportunity to smile evenly at your mother.

“we could go out for a picnic. it’ll be an easy way to get along. everyone likes food.” toji’s lips quirk up into something more sinister, but no one seemed to notice but you. you arch an eyebrow at him and glance down at your phone briefly for the time. “it’s almost 4, a little later for lunch don’t you think? plus, it’s getting dark soon.” excuses. toji clicks his tongue in false approval, knowing damn well you’re trying your best not to be alone with him. and you are. because you have no idea what you’ll do if you’re left with him.

“you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?” he snarks easily at you, jutting his chin slightly. you puff air from your nose, rolling your eyes irritatedly at him. oh, how he wished to make them roll differently. “no. i'm worried about the people wandering parks at night.” oh? toji smiles but decides against voicing the nasty thought that ran through his head. “listen, we’ll head out to the park and you can go ahead on to work. don’t worry about us, honey. we’ll get along just fine.” toji’s eyes cut to you briefly as he speaks but most of his words are focused on your mom.

oblivious to the rising tension between you two, she smiles and claps her hands excitedly. “good! good! okay, i really have to go but i love you two. send me pictures and be safe!” she kisses the side of your head (much to your dismay) before kissing toji. she’s out of the door faster then you can blink and you slowly realize exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into. toji watches you carefully before he decides whether he wants to make his next move now or later. your legs are tensing, he can see that because of those tiny fucking shorts you have on. you’re biting down on your lip and scrolling aimlessly on your phone.

he steps closer to the couch and hesitates, looking down at you before resting his hands on your shoulders. “i think you should go get ready,” he purrs, letting his hands slide forward just slightly. you jolt but pretend that you hadn’t, swallowing thickly. “don’t need to stay out late, you know. we don’t know who might be wandering the park at night.” suddenly you hate yourself for speaking earlier but also thank yourself because the chills running down your spine are unimaginable.

"you're right." you murmur in response. "maybe we shouldn't go at all, would be much easier." you side-eye him out of the corner of your eye. toji ignores how you're glaring at him, settling for leaning down to whisper in your ear. "i'm going to put some finger food in one of those cooling bags your mom has. by the time i'm done, you better be down here. understood?" his voice is light, but there's a certain edge to it that makes you sit up straight.

you swallow and turn to face him fully. you've given up on distracting yourself with your phone, your heart is fluttering and your pussy clenching at his tone. "whatever." your voice shakes but you ignore it for the sake of your sanity. toji's jaw clenches but he doesn't work to say much. you finally stand to push past him on the other side of the couch, glancing up at him briefly as you go.

toji felt irritated, but he decided it was all in due time. he'd have his way with you one way or another. and this stupid little date would be perfect. perfect for him to fill your cunt.

that's exactly how you found yourself on your stomach, clawing at the blanket toji had oh-so gently sat down earlier. his strong hands grip the fat of your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can spit on your asshole. you clench subconsciously, whining softly at the foreign feeling. "shut up." toji hisses as he watches the glob of spit slide from your asshole and down your already wet folds.

"you're already showing me this fucking hole in public, you wanna get caught too? fucking slut." his words go straight to your pussy as it clenches around nothing. his tongue slides around the skin near your asshole. he teases you with long slow licks nearing closer and closer to your puckered hole. he wants to ease his fingers inside your ass and threaten to fuck the tight hole, but he needs to know how your cunt feels. he needs to know how tight the pussy you've been teasing him with is.

you dig your face impossibly deeper into the soft blanket underneath you. your fingers are already clenching the blanket and if you moan any louder someone will know exactly what's going on in your little secluded section of the park. toji's ministrations don't cease at your whines. instead, he slips his tongue in your ass while his fingers dig into your ass cheeks to pull them apart further.

"pretty fucking ass." he mumbles, pulling away briefly to admire the slick forming. "you've never had this ass eaten before? tell me, baby." you tilt your head back briefly to attempt to make eye contact with him, but this notion fails when he places harsh smacks on both of your ass cheeks. your back bends as you moan with a shaky hand covering your mouth.

he watches your ass and pussy clench around nothing, begging to be filled. toji traces his fingers along your pussy lips, laughing darkly when your cunt twitches in anticipation. "don't be a slut, baby. wait patiently and i'll give you what you want." the words are ironic coming from him because if it was up to him, he'd have fucked you into the ground by now. however, you looked so fucking good and you deserved to be ruined. so he'd ruin you.

his fingers slowly slide into your cunt, eliciting a loud squish! as they enter you. somehow there's already cum sliding down his fingers and he lets out the harshest scoff. "how long has it been? barely started eating this-" he emphasizes his point by thumbing at your asshole. "fucking hole and the other one 's wet? slutty, slutty baby. should've fucked you sooner."

if you weren't already feeling the effects of toji on you you'd have refuted his claim. he shouldn't have thought of fucking you at all...but you liked it. you wanted your stepdad to take time out of his day, out of his work week to fuck you. you wanted to feel bad and be scared to get caught as he filled you the exact way you needed to be filled. you wanted to sob an cry while his cock stretched you beyond what you’re used to.

toji’s tongue returns to your ass while his fingers slowly begin to pump in and out of you. his tongue ignores the resistance of your hole, pushing through to lick sloppily at the inside. every time his tongue slips inside it comes back out with a soft pop!, and the sound mixes with the loud wet noises coming from your poor cunt. toji’s fingers start to pick up the deeper he begins to get in your ass.

toji shifts slightly from behind you, adjusting to he can use his free hand to put his thumb in your ass. he laughs at the way you clench around his fingers. you’re so fucking needy. your pussy sucks his fingers in deeper every time he pulls out to thrust back in. “you always this fucking tight? or you just been waiting for this?” you whine, freeing your hand from your mouth to grip his wrist.

“i haven’t-! no! i’m not like that!” you cry desperately. toji snorts, pulling his thick fingers out of you to watch your reaction. your hips stutter, pausing briefly before shaking back against him to search for that fullness you’d lost. “‘not like that’? this pussy’s hungry for me and i ain’ even fed her properly. do you dream about this?” you shake your head again, parting your lips to argue with him when he shoves his fingers back into you.

you cry out again, softer this time despite your lack of secrecy the second he slipped his fingers into your cunt. toji laughs, kissing up your neck and across your jaw before landing at the corner of your lips. “shhh, baby girl.” he coos, kissing your lips as his fingers begin to piston in and out of you. your moans are swallowed my his hungry lips as they move against yours, sloppy and uncoordinated kisses being exchanged between the two of you. toji’s tongue slides against your lips before finding its way inside your mouth, wrapping around your tongue sloppily. you groan louder when his fingers find that spot deep inside of you, roughly pressing at the soft spot.

your hips twitch erratically at the newfound pleasure of having your g-spot abused. toji pulls away from your mouth, watching the fucked expression on your face as he dug his fingers further in you. he watches the way your eyes water and your lips pout before parting into a ‘o’ shape. you’re so fucking pretty, he really just cannot help himself. “behave and i’ll let you cum the first time.” he purrs sweetly, pressing a kiss to your parted lips.

toji doesn’t give you a real chance to reply. by the time you’ve barely come to your senses to reply, you feel his hot tongue nudging its way back into you. his fingers pump into you in quick, short pumps as his tongue assaults your asshole. he pulls away to spit harshly onto your open hole, chuckling lowly to himself as it winks back at him. you’re overwhelmed. you’ve never had someone pay so much attention to your ass, let alone lick at it like you’re some kind of dessert. you push your ass further into his face, desperate for the feeling to continue.

you start to feel that burning feeling in your tummy, your heart’s pounding and you temporarily forget you’re outside. you’ve forgotten toji’s words about being quiet but you still find yourself covering your mouth. this feels wrong, but it feels so so good. you sob loudly as a third finger slides into your pussy, glancing back at toji who only meets your gaze. you can see the smugness in his face and it does little to nothing to deter your orgasm. your face pinches, thighs tensing as the burning sensation overcomes you. “‘m gonna- oh fuck!”

the noise that leaves your throat is inhuman. you rock forward at the strength of your orgasm as your cunt flutters around toji’s fingers. you thought he’d stop but you can still feel his fingers pumping in and out of you still. toji’s tongue somehow finds itself deeper into your ass as you cum. the sensation renders you speechless, your voice escaping you. “don’t worry baby we’re not done.” toji shifts behind you, sliding his fingers from your drooling cunt. he presses a wet kiss to your asshole before pulling away completely. he spreads his fingers to watch your slick nearly keep them together, thick strings of cum spreading between each finger.

“don’t spent too much time coming down. i still have to fuck this pretty pussy.” he slaps your pussy for emphasis, laughing when you find your voice again to whine at the pain. "no toji. can't" you mumble into the blanket. your chest moves rapidly as you try to gather yourself. despite your protests, your pussy clenches as the cold air hits you with toji moving out of the way. your hips jut much to your annoyance, hips shifting forward and away from imaginary fingers.

"shh, sweet girl. daddy's gonna give ya what ya need." he murmurs, laughing to himself when your asshole clenched. toji teases your pussy, sliding his fat tip up and down your pretty, drenched pussy. he watches as his tip starts to glisten from your slick, the way his cock slides easily against you from how wet you are. he slaps his cock against you one more time before he decides to pull away, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

he slaps your ass with a sense of finality, gripping your hips. "turn over, baby girl. c'mon. don't make me wait." you push up on shaky arms to turn yourself over. somehow, the top of your sundress had stayed up and you were hoping he'd allow you that sense of conservation. knowing toji, though, he wouldn't. and he didn't. the second you turned over his hand was on the top of your dress, pulling it down to free your tits.

toji palms your tits roughly, pulling at your nipples as he ground his cock against you. his eyes flicker over you, the way your lips are parted and drool escapes them. he watches your lashes flutter as you blink in a futile attempt to become more aware. your dress is a little damp from both of your fluids, and your pussy looks so so pretty in this position. he's won the jackpot, he thinks. if only he married this pussy.

"enough. you ready for this, pretty girl?" you grunt harshly under him, glancing up at him to nod. toji slaps his cock against you one more time before beginning to slide into you. his fat tip begins to press into you, forcing a soft sob from your throat. it's an uncomfortable feeling because he's so big. you've been fucked before—plenty of times—but toji's cock is stretching you wide enough for you to be nervous. he'd had you on your stomach so long you hadn't gotten a chance to see how big he was. clearly, he was big enough to split you in half.

"toji..” you pause to frown up at him. “‘s not gonna fit.” he's nearly as thick as a soda can and long enough for you to be concerned. still, you peek at him through your lashes to beg him to stop or slow down. toji only rolls his eyes. "we're gonna make it fit, pretty baby. can you do that f'me? hmmm?" he settles his hands on either side of you, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. your eyes shift over his face, flickering up to his eyes before slowly making their way down to his lips.

if you hadn't gulped already toji would be convinced you were joking. you were questioning the fit but the way you were squeezing him--the way you gushed, toji knew you weren't scared. his hips shift as he pushes further into you. he smashes his lips against yours before you can cry out, quieting your moans and loud pleas. he knows you can take it because you're his good girl. you'd just have to prove it. "tight fucking cunt." he hisses against your mouth, shifting his hips forward once more. "not even halfway and she's tryna bully me out. why 's that, hm? she too shy? can't take this fucking dick?"

you whine against his lips, sniffling softly as tears begin to spill. "no, no! you're too big, toji. i can't- can't take it! please!" your cries fall on deaf ears as toji presses down on your hips to slide further into you. he watches you squirm with a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. your body is warm and the tears that slip from your eyes are scorching. he watches in pure satisfaction as your cunt clenches tightly around him the further he digs into you. "bet this pussy wasn't shy when you were in college." he tuts at you, releasing one side of your hip to spank your clit.

he relishes the way your hips twitch and your back arches. you're so fucking responsive. "remember your mom said you're a sorority girl. how many times were you gettin' fucked in the bathroom? now you wanna tell me 's too big? you're my little slut, baby. you can take it." you're not gonna tell him when you can take it and, frankly, toji doesn't care. his eyebrows twitch in annoyance at your escalating whines. you've come to your senses because you're pushing at his stomach. your eyes are closed in both discomfort and pleasure, and tears are starting to accumulate on the blanket.

"fucked those college boys with no problem but the second a real man tries to take this pussy you wanna cry." he rolls his eyes in pure irritation, gripping your hips tightly so he can finally slam you down on his cock. he groans in relief as your warmth surrounds him fully. his cock twitches inside of you and he already knows he's fucked. you're so fucking wet, so fucking tight. he can't take it. he moves his hands to slide underneath your thighs, pushing them up so that he has more room.

"move...toji please." your voice is so soft he would've missed it if the wind was blowing. your stepdad tuts at you, spreading your legs further to settle between them. "please what? what's my name?" he watches the conflict in your eyes. you're contemplating if you want to give in (as if you hadn't already). your eyes flutter shut before opening again. "please," you pause, a disgusted frown pulling at your lips. "daddy please? fuck me! i need it- need you so bad."

a warm feeling starts to brew in his chest after your little declaration. toji hadn't given a fuck when your mother mentioned she had an adult daughter but now? god was he grateful he met her. he would've never found this pretty pussy on his own. "since you asked so nicely, princess. gonna take it realll good f'me, huh? slutty fucking pussy." he practically purrs his words to you. toji doesn't bother starting slow, immediately starting with pounding in and out of your cunt.

your cunt makes the nastiest, wettest noise as toji's cock slides in and out of you. he's not going nearly as fast as he wants, but your pussy gushes around him nonetheless. your back arches off the ground as his tip kisses your cervix. he keeps hitting deep inside you every time he pulls out halfway just to fuck right back into you. "oh my god.." you murmur. you shift your hips in an attempt to fuck yourself forward as he continues to pound into you.

"oh my fuck- daddy please! harder! need it!" you're practically sobbing for him to fuck you harder. your fingers press weakly against his stomach and you find yourself unable to decide if you really want him to go harder. your pussy feels so full--you feel so fucking full and you feel like you're going to explode. "whatever you say, baby. been so fucking good." toji leans over, pressing your legs back further. his lips attach to yours in the neediest kiss you've ever taken part of. it's sloppy and desperate and it's so fucking good.

your tongue slides against his in near perfection, one of your hands reaching up to grasp at his hair. you pull him closer to you, jutting your hips against his. toji's pounding is incessant, and your cry against his lips. "let go of my legs, toji. i want you to cum in me." you whine against his lips. toji releases your legs reluctantly, letting you wrap them around his waist. he grunts as you push him impossibly deeper inside of you. "fuck i should've met you sooner." his hisses, pressing down on your stomach. "should've married this fucking cunt. could be inside you for days, keep cumming inside of you, get you pregn- oh fuck!"

you press toji inside of you to keep him there. your fingers grasp his hair tightly, forcing his lips to remain against yours. he's groaning despite your attempts to keep the both of you quiet, his hips beginning to stutter and your fingers beginning to twitch. "then fucking do it. fill me up daddy, please." he laughs against you, pulling back to slam back into you. "yeah, baby. knew this fucking pussy would want me. i knew you'd fucking love this." you nod dumbly, muttering incoherently about how you need him.

toji grips your neck as his hips begin to stutter. your pussy tightens around him and flutters as he nudges your g-spot. every time he pulls back he hits it with perfection only to push forward and kiss your cervix. you need him to cum inside you. you need it the same way you need oxygen. you just want to feel the same warmth you've craved since you met him a week ago. he's right, he should've married you. you'd give him what he wants and more. "is this pretty pussy gonna cum for me?" he's whispering so close to you that you can feel the warmth against your wet lips.

you nod hard and fast, squeezing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach tightens. you move your hips to no real avail. he's fucked you so stupid you can barely match his rhythm. your pussy almost hurts from the stretch and the overstimulation from your first lingering orgasm. you can feel your asshole flutter whilst your pussy attempts to shut around toji's dick. "ohhh i'm gonna- fuckfuckfuck." you sob your words out, nails clawing angrily at toji's back. he doesn't let up, continuing to fuck harshly into your pussy even as he feels spurts hit the bottom of his stomach. he ignores the fact that you've squirted on his dick, fucking you like he needs it.

"this is what i needed from you. knew you weren't a brat. jus' needed to be fucked." he chuckles, though the joke is lost on you. he watches the way your eyes have rolled. your pretty lips are parted, but no sound leaves them. you're done for and he's about to cum so deep in you that he knows it'll take. toji slams his hips forward, his balls slapping against your ass as he finally cums. he glances down to see the white ring of your cream at the base of his dick, now watching his own cum drip down. he can see your pussy twitch and he presses meanly on your clit just to watch you practically howl.

"too much." you murmur, eyes opening just slightly to see his face. toji presses a kiss to your lips, licking at them to let himself in. he gives you one more sloppy kiss, relishing in the after of the harsh orgasms the two of you had. "you did so good." he coos, pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks. "good fucking girl. c'mon, we'll go home so you can take a bath." you grunt, blinking your eyes completely open to watch his face. he was looking at you differently. softer. maybe you'd like having a stepdaddy after all.

[gladiatorcunt]

- DIRT IN CHAINS | X.

i can’t wait for the nights with you, i imagine the things we’ll do

cw: kinktober prompt (feet), semi crack treated seriously (he just comes back and says footjob. now.), pseudo incest (step brother & step sister), no shelly or chris 💀, set in the 90’s with brandon lee’s eric, small-ish age gap (reader’s in her early 20’s), fem ballerina!reader, random kurt cobain crush mention, implied inappropriate behavior when reader was 18 and after (nothing explicit but it could be seen as done with certain intent), attempted non con mention (not involving eric or reader)

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

Body of my body, flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.

If you serve a chunk of still bleeding meat to a gruesome stray dog, then that is love. If you toss a coin to a crow with a glint in its beady eyes, that too is love. Even when you scoff and grumble at the perceived inconvenience and continue your jaunt down the muddy alleyway. You are assuring an animal that you believe it deserves to have its hunger sated and tended to like a toothache. don’t be surprised when gangrene sets in around your ankles and wrists, bracelets made of red jade. They bite for the same reason that you sharpen their teeth and beaks with roadkill and gemstones. It is life’s greatest gift to ever be well fed, such neglect can open a void from which there is no escape. If only your heart could plug up the hole.

The most painful sentences in existence are hypotheticals that start with if. That's why this will be nothing of the sort, hunting season will be successful.

Your step brother Eric was shot about a month ago the night before halloween, and you’re coping by robotically moving through life as if it couldn’t happen to you too. It’s all too easy to succumb to the panic and the grief but you’ve never been wired that way, it’s safer for you to retreat into a cocoon of numbness.

You don’t want to think about where the woman he saved from being raped is, as happy as you are that she’s okay. Knowing any of that would only remind you of the knife Eric got thrown into his back before he was thrown from her apartment window. He lived in the same building and like the good guy your step brother was at heart, burst in the room with the best intentions.

His good deed got him killed, and all you’ve done is play his music on repeat as you rot in your bed. He’d want you to continue your ballet career, hell, he showed up to your recitals and performances more than your own mother. You always ignored how his presence made you feel simultaneously relaxed and confident but also so stressed you’d be worried about pissing yourself on the stage.

Wide smiles and long dark hair that glistened in the theater’s warm lightning, he would always be the one to stand up and whistle first.

Eric’s favorite ballet was your ballet company’s Swan Lake. He kept a picture of you as Odette in one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

Your parents had only been married 4 years, but you’ve changed a lot from the starry eyed 18 year old that mooned over your older step brother and tripped over your pointe shoes.

Your dad started teaching you how to play guitar before he left, when you were 5 and your chubby hands plucked at the wrong strings. Eric wouldn’t leave you alone when you told him the story, and spent an entire weekend getting you caught up on your missed lessons until you both had a swarm of blisters on your fingers.

Now you’ll never see him again, never get caught in the rain when you’ve begged him to drive you home and wish you could tuck a strand of his wet hair behind ear, never hump your pillow and muffle your sounds into your balled up fists because he’s staying in the next room and you have to be quiet.

You’ll never see him with his band again, caught in that weird space between a groupie and a supportive family member. He liked to embarrass you, make big shows out of looking directly at you and coming to the edge of the stage to poke your cheek. He’d ruffle your hair and your cheeks would be so hot, one wrong burst of electricity from the wires attached to their instruments and you’d go up in flames.

You never told your mom but you always wanted a brother, you should’ve known you weren’t gonna have him for very long.

Hangman’s Joke. God, you wish.

“Hey, peach, ya miss me?”

Hand on your heart you think you’re dreaming at first, but you’ve never really had any dreams where Eric was front and center. He haunts all your other ones, regular strange ones where you’re running around department stores and fucking Kurt Cobain but someintes he turns into your step brother, sometimes you fuck them both.

You shoot up in bed, the straps of your lavender silk nightie slip down your shoulders so you pull them back. It’s the middle of the night, and your vision is blurry, but when your eyes focus properly you see him standing in front of your bed.

It’s Eric, your brother, you don’t even care if there was a gas leak overnight that’s got you fucked up or if this reslly is a dream. You can’t pretend to be fine anymore if he’s right here in front of you, suddenly there’s an umbrella over your head in the pouring rain again.

“Eric, oh my god, what the fuck! How are you even- I mean- How the fuck are you alive?”

He sighs, tonguing his cheek and shaking his head. “I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise, ‘m tired, peach. Missed my girl, didn’t she miss me?”

It’s a little cruel because of course you have, but the dulcet tones lull you into nodding. You don’t want to cry, and you’re scared to reach out to touch him because of the chance that he might disappear. Eric’s haunted eyes soften, and he intertwines his bizarrely muddy fingers with yours. There’s warmth, and maybe it’s just your hummingbird heart but you feel a soft rhythmic thumping under his skin.

It’s different, slow as molasses, more like the chiming of a grandfather clock. But Jesus fucking Christ he’s real.

Your sham of a facade shatters as you bring your joined hands down to your breasts, forcing his knuckles to press into your sternum.

Eric pushes you back down on the bed, his knees dig into the mattress on either side of your hips. His stare is intense, dark and enticing as he reaches down to curl his hand around your calves.

“I used to be obsessed with uh, vampires, ain’t that a bitch?” He chuckles, massaging your ankles and staring off into space. “All that mysticism and unimaginable power and all I could focus on was the way they talked about their cravings. How they get hunger pangs like a normal fuckin’ and it’s bearable until it’s not, it consumes them like they’re boilin’ from the inside out.”

You suck in a breath, Eric’s eyes flick over to you immediately.

“Then I look at you and i’m right back in rehab, toes curlin’ at the thought of getting high again. I think I know how those bloodsuckers feel.”

“Eric- Don’t say that.” Your heart seizes up, but you keep yourself from falling off the ledge.

He kisses your ankle, his black lipstick leaving a stain as he leaves a trail of carnage up to your toes. His lips split wide on a fox’s smile, slipping his tongue in the crease between your toes and sucking each one clean, almost like he’s trying to eat your flesh off the bone. He nuzzles his nose into the sole and inhales deeply, taking in the dirt you didn’t wash off in the shower, the plastic hospital smell from your bath mat, your cherry almond scented body wash.

“Yes, all i fuckin’ need, right here.” He whispers, staring at you dead in your eyes.

He flicks his tongue out to taste the high arch of your foot as his hand caresses your still bruised toes. But they’re faded, you quit ballet a long time ago.

“You have pretty feet, y’know that? Always liked helping you lace up your slippers.” Eric laughs “You’d get so fussy about me doin’ them properly but you’d kiss my cheek after, all sweet on me.”

He lavishes every inch of both your feet with his tongue in broad strokes, making out with your toes because he can’t resist sucking them into his mouth one more time.

You moan, fisting your hands in your nightie, your step brother’s back from the afterlife apparently and the first thing he wants to do is get a footjob from his step sister.

Eric tucks his hair behind his ears so he doesn’t have to bother with it for right now, you can tell that this is like one of those moments on stage, he wants your full attention.

He’ll always have it.

You’re the one that pulls your feet out of his grip to slide them down to his crotch. You keep eye contact as you massage his clothed bulge with your toes, rubbing your heel into his balls and applying light pressure here and there.

You blink up at him, too innocent and too worn down by life already all at the same time, “Like that, big brother? Does that feel good?”

Eric grunts, wrapping his hands back around your ankles and pushing your feet further onto his cock.

“Yeah, peach, feels so fuckin’ good, holy shit. Just like that, keep doin’ me like that, baby.”

You bite your lip, nearly tearing through the skin in your efforts to make your newly risen step brother jizz in his ripped jeans. You wish you had psychic powers and had the foresight to know he was coming over, you would’ve put on those socks with the frilly edges and a red rose stitched on the white fabric.

But he’s so worked up from this already, he’s breathing heavily and rocking his hips forward to hump your feet. He’s grinding his teeth together, already so close to unraveling from how much of a little tease you’re being.

You hum and turn your right foot to ghost the edge of your toenail around the tip of his cock. He groans as he twitches and a bead of pre seeps through his clothes, you can trace the outline of his length so clearly you know he’s not wearing any underwear.

The look in his crazed eyes reminds you of all the times he’d take you to the attic of his loft, making up scary stories and playing guitar with you. When you turned 21 he surprised you with a cheesy golden heart shaped locket, with a picture of you two at your parent’s wedding, joking about how awkward you look with each other there. Eric’s penguin style suit and your agitated face that’s partially covered by gaudy turquoise puffy cap sleeves.

He chuckled and said that every time you look at it, you’ll feel nothing but happiness for what those two losers are about to experience.

Part of that experience is you curling your feet around his clothed cock while giving him just enough of a view of your hairy pussy, you forgot to put a pad on so there’s some blood trickling out of you that Eric is just so utterly enraptured by.

His groans are death rattles now, long and pain stricken, at some point he stops humping your feet and lets you worship him like this. Eric kneeling above you, drooling deep in the back of his throat at the sight of his baby sister caressing his painfully hard dick with her cute dancer’s feet.

Your mind is filled with all the pretty shoes you can put on and do this again, you just got a new camera as an early birthday present too.

“You can come if you promise not to leave again, Eric, I'll hunt you down and kill you myself this time.” You promise, digging the ball of your feet into his perineum.

“I crawled out of the earth back to you, didn’t I? Couldn’t let my sweet peach perform alone, she gets stage fright.”

He comes in his pants and you continue to gingerly move your feet along his length, soaking up the cum that wets your toes like a sunflower does sunlight at golden hour.

[lemurianeggs]

Genderbend Caleb x Meimei HC

You know whats the best about Caleb?

Even as his genderbend version, Jiejie would still happily fuck her little Meimei

TW: Pseudoincest - Siscon - Piss mentioned

Young MC cuddling with jiejie and nuzzling her face against Jiejies plump breasts.

"So soft.... I hope I'll have big boobs like you when I'm older too, jiejie" she pouts and jiejie makes it a daily good night ritual to massage and squeeze her tiny mounds telling her that it's the best way to make them grow. MC might complain that it's ticklish or weird when her nipples get stiff, but jiejie just reassures her that it's just the feeling of them growing. "Wait let me help you. I know a way how they won't hurt anymore, meimei" she purrs, as she kisses her tiny nips and sucks softly on them, enjoying every single whimper of her meimei. And when meimei complains that she has to pee or that she feels like she did, jiejie gets so proud about making her little sister wet without touching her soft lips. "Don't worry, meimei. Let me help you get clean" - kissing downwards to lick up all her slick, enjoying every single drop of it.

MC is also soooo jealous of her big sisters breasts and jiejie loves egging her on about it.

"What Pip-squeak? You want to be grown up so badly already? Come here.... Maybe your big sister can show you something grown ups like to do a lot. Your tiny tits might juuuust grow from it too" and she just devours her, fingerbanging her while sucking on her mouthful of tiny breasts.

MC is so overwhelmed by it, but loves it and often demands it from her big sis because she firmly believes her breast did grow a bit from it before!!

Jiejie also doesn't care what warm liquid sprays out against her hand and face as she fucks her through her orgasms. She cleans her up diligently afterwards, even if meimei complains that she shouldn't do it cause pee is icky!

This builds up the curiosity of meimei to try it on jiejie too... But her hands are too small to reach anything inside of jiejie so she gets all pouty and sad but jiejie tells her to just lick against that hooded nub instead and that it will make jiejie feel real good. But since meimei likes suckling on her big sis tits way more than sucking on this nub, she gets tired fast and pouty and jiejie cannot say no to her... So she just lets her have her tits again, rubbing against meimeis thigh instead to get off.

Also something about jiejie putting a strapon on meimei and fucking herself on it while lil sis just lays down under her, still happily playing with her breasts.

Jiejie keeps praising her, that she is such a good girl. Completely breathless as she fucks herself over the edge on her and the way her sister looks up at her curiously as she plays so innocently with her breasts just short circuits her.

MC also really wants to try getting fucked with the strapon by her big sis but her sister is very adamant about not doing it until she is loose enough for it to fit. She might even catch her trying to push it in, reminding her, that she is not ready yet:

"Pips! I told you to wait with this.... How many of my fingers can you take so far? Right. Only the pinky and my ring finger.... So how many until you can take the big girl toy? Right. Still two more to go! Now come here and let me cuddle you, my sneaky little menace"

She never scolds her for that tho. She is just worried that she will hurt herself with it and tells her that she just should come to her if she feels tingly down there.

Cause Jiejie makes it go away in a safe way, pinky promise.

[buckysgrace]

Impression

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Part two to Chemistry, but you don't technically have to read it to follow along :)

CW: Pseudocest/stepcest, unprotected sex, slight degradation, mentions of sex pollen

Steve deals with the aftermath of what he did, as well as realizes that he can't just let you go.

He was pacing.

Back and forth in front of his bed, his steps messy and rough as he tried to erase the previous night from his mind. It had nothing to do with the monsters or the beat down that he had faced, no, nothing like that.

It had everything to do with you. What he had done was wrong, sinister even. He didn't know why he had done it, only that he was sure that he would die if he hadn't touched you. He had never wanted someone so badly before. Not even Nancy.

And you were worse than any drug he had ever encountered. So needy and willingly underneath him, just as desperate and lustful. It was hard to feel like it was wrong in the moment, not when it felt so right.

But now he was left with a sickening feeling in his gut, his guilt eating away at him. He didn't even like you, he shouldn't really care. But it bothered him for some reason, but maybe it was because he hadn't really felt like he had been in control. Like part of his body had been acting without his consent, but then sometimes it didn't feel like that either.

His dad was going to kill him if he found out.

"It can't happen again." He told you the next morning, after he had forced himself away from you that night and scrubbed himself down in the shower until his skin was raw.

He didn't really like to look at you, not because you were ugly or unattractive. But because he was constantly reminded of what he couldn't have. He thought every piece of you was stunning, beautiful. And sometimes it was easier to push you away than to try and pretend to be nice.

"What?" You grumbled, still looking like you were half asleep as you held a glass of juice in between your hands. He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You know what." He responded as he waited for you to say something, to bring up what happened last night or to worry about the marks on his face. For a moment he couldn't decide what he would rather have you do.

But you were silent as you downed the rest of your juice, liquid falling from the corner of your lips before you wiped it away. You sighed as you set it down, not looking at all bothered. Or at least wearing a convincing mask.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You replied as you shrugged your shoulders, eyebrows furrowing together as you walked away from him. He froze for a moment, briefly feeling lost. Leaving him with just enough time to wonder if he had imagined part of this.

No, it had been real. He was sure of it. He didn't want you to blab about it, but he wasn't sure he was happy with you ignoring it completely either. He wasn't sure what he wanted.

But you continued on like that, acting like nothing had happened. And it infuriated him. You had always been a brat, but you were even worse now. And he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

It was wrong. Really wrong. He kept trying to remind himself that, but he had a hard time believing it. Not when his eyes searched for you, when his fingertips burned to feel your skin against his again. He could feel the desperation leaking from him, needy to feel you again.

So he'd try again.

"What are you playing at?" He asked as he forced himself into your room the next night, shuttingt he door swiftly behind him. You looked up, eyebrows raised for a moment before you turned away again.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You repeated dryly, legs crossed as you placed your bookmark neatly between the pages you were on. He breathed in deeply, trying to do his best to keep from staring at your exposed skin.

"Why won't you talk about what happened?" He muttered at last, feeling more desperate than anything else. He had a sudden urge to fall to his knees, to feel your fingers tangled within his hair as he did whatever you wanted.

"Do you want me to?" You questioned as you tilted your head, eyes looking right through him. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to figure out the answer to your question. The truth was that he didn't know. He had no idea at all.

He huffed as he slowly sat down on your floorboards, wishing there was a way to explain what had happened. Or maybe he was wanting to apologize. He wasn't sure. All of it had happened so fast.

"What are you thinking about?" You questioned as you crept closer to him, making his pulse raise against the side of his neck. You were in an oversized shirt, one that just barely covered you. He had a hard time looking away.

"I feel like I'm crazy," he replied, skin burning as you slowly crawled over to him. This didn't feel like before. It was different, but nice. Real, "do you feel that way?" he asked, eyes lingering against your bare thighs.

"No," you said at last, tilting your head as you straddled him fully. He bit back a groan, trying not to buck his hips up against your warm flesh, "you made me feel alive." You added softly, making him feel like he might melt into the floorboards.

You slowly rocked your hips across him, leaving him gripping the floor for support. He felt greedily, desperaetly needing to touch you as he reached down to open the buttons to his jeans. Then his zipper.

He stared at the way you slowly sat up, how you delicately let your panites down down the length of your legs. He watched in fascination, sure that he had never felt this way before. He reached forward, pressing a few kisses against your knee before you settled over him again.

"Are you going to be nice to me, Stevie?" You asked as you fluttered your eyelashes at him, your fingers brushing across his hardened dick. He whined at the feeling, grinding his hips up into until you pushed him back down. You shook your head, giving him a warning.

"Mhm." He hummed in agreement, eyelids feeling heavy as he hungrily watched your movements. He felt greedy suddenly, desperately needing to feel you.

"You're going to be a good boy?" You cooed as you tilted your head, a small smirk pulling on your lips. He felt faint at the feeling of your palm pressing down rougher against his bulge, his dick aching from the feeling. It was more intense than the other night. Real.

"I promise," he whined as he wiggled underneath you, lips still covered with your slick, "please." He pleaded as he pulled himself onto his elbows, watching the slow way that you tugged his briefs down his hairy thighs.

He sighed in relief at the feeling of his cock popping free, bouncing against his skin as a gleeful giggle left your lips. His pulse raced against the crook of his neck, his mind spinning as he drifted his eyes back towards you.

Your fingers wrapped around his thick girth delicately, your teeth shining brightly from the wide smile you sent him as he crooned in response. He was pulsing against your touch, cock throbbing as you gave him a little squeeze.

"I'll take care of you," you promised as you drifted your free hand across his slender torso, eyes slowly dancing across each mole that decorated his skin. He was covered in the little marks, and sometimes found himself hating them. But not right now, not with the way you were looking at him, "just relax."

He did as you demanded, his fingertips relaxing against your hips as you slowly lifted yourself up over him. His cock ached against his skin as the feeling of you hovering over him spread warmth through his body.

The feeling of his tip against your slick walls made his head spin, his heart hammering roughly inside his chest as he watched the way his cock slid inside of your soaked cunt. Your moans were whiny and rough, making his ears sing from the heavenly sound.

"You're such a slut for your little sister," you coeed as you stalled your movements for a second, adjusting to the feeling of his dick pulsing inside of you, "but you like that, don't you?" You teased, making him quickly nod his head in agreement. He'd do whatever you said, whatever you asked.

A low whimper left his lips as you fully lowered yourself along the curve of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as he resisted the urge to fuck up into your smooth cunt. His fingers twitched against your flesh, trying to keep himself patient so he could savor the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his thick girth.

"God," he whined as he clawed at your hips, lungs stalling from the rough breaths he was taking, "you feel so good around me, honey." He complimented, mind feeling hazy as you slowly began to rock your hips up and down the length of his cock.

Pleasure raced up his spine, the muscles in his stomach twisting in pleasure as he savored the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock. The feeling of your slick coating his skin left him gasping, his lungs swelling in awe each time your cunt squelched around him.

"Fuck," you breathed out, eyebrows furrowing together as pleasure spread across your features. You whined, a heavenly sound that filled his ears as he buried his fingertips into your flesh again. He groaned as he began to thrust upwards, his balls hitting against your skin, "right there, Stevie. Feels incredible."

He sighed in bliss, staring at the way your cunt stretched around him as you continued to drag yourself along the curve of his cock. He reached down to play with your clit, making you squirm atop of him as he savored the image of your pussy stuffed full of his cock. Something inside of him snapped, like you were made to be wrapped around him.

Your hands were warm against his skin, pressing into him as loud moans began to fall from your tongue. The sounds made his toes curl, bliss spreading deep inside of him. He didn't want you to ever stop. No, he wanted to feel himself buried inside of you for a very long time.

"Jesus," he groaned as he began to thrust up into you deeply, his cock brushing against the deepest parts of you as your nails began to dig into his shirt. Your thighs squeezed around his body, tugging him closer, "feels good. feels so good, honey. Fuck, fuck." The words rolled off of his tongue easily as a blush crept onto his skin, hot and sticky from the sweat that had formed against the base of his neck.

It was hard to think, hard to feel anything but the intense pleasure with the way you turned your gaze down towards him. He was sure that he had never seen someone so beautiful before, so stunning as the pleasure etched deeply across your features.

It was hard to feel shame when everything felt this good, but even now, he hated how desperately he wanted to kiss you. How badly he wanted to drift his hands across your curves and feel your warm skin against his own. He thought of how badly he wanted to explore every inch of you, to drag his lips across your skin and to never forget the sweet sounds that fell from your lips.

"Oh God," he whined wantonly as he began to drag his hips up roughly into your soaked cunt, the sound of your bodies meeting bouncing off of the walls, "M'sorry, fuck, fuck!" He cursed as he pressed himself up against you, balls slick against your skin as his cock pulsed against your walls.

A loud moan left his lips as he came deep inside of you, his cum painting your walls white. He moved his hand down between your legs, roughly rubbing at your swollen clit as your body twitched in pleasure.

"Oh God, Steve!" He sat up further, mind foggy in awe at the way your cunt clamped down tightly around his cock. He breathed in deeply, listening to the way you moaned and crooned as you came around his cock. You rocked down against him slowly, licking your bottom lip.

He couldn't hear anything but your moans, his heart hammering roughly inside his chest as he continued to press down against your sensitive bud. He couldn't feel anything but you, his pleasure pulsing deep inside his veins as he stared up at you in disbelief. In awe.

You looked down at him, features twisted into a mixture of satisfaction and smugness. He couldn't care though, not one bit as you traced your fingers across your chest softly.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" you giggled as you pressed down along his hips, eyes twinkling in mischief, "cat got your tongue?" He exhaled roughly as he nodded numbly, feel his cock twitching inside of you once again.

Yeah, you could say that.