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#tw step cest
getodrools · 3 months
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𐙚 DIFFERENT POLES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!
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IN WHICH, step dad! toji was snooping around and found your personal items! and toji takes the chance to blackmail you for being a stripper – with shameful lap dances in return for keeping your little secret…
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! stripper! reader. dub con (coercion). step cest. blackmail mention. age gap (reader: early 20s, toji: late 40s). manipulation. lap dance turned to riding. slight praising + degrading. humiliation. dacryphilia. size difference. overstimulation. cervix/womb fucking. non con creampie. orgasm denial. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !
NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p
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“please… don't tell mom.”
was the first thing you could muster up through fat tears. the embarrassment was flamming at a rise in the pit of your tummy when your step-father found your secret stash — not asking why he was even going through your panty drawer in the first place, too caught up on the fact he was holding your intimate stripping items with his bare hands.
you remember how he heavily sighed too, the deep shame in his voice was guttural, “i’m so disappointed in you… but i won't,” you also remember thinking you were actually off the hook; hiccuping through slowing tears ‘till leafy eyes hooded into deep sets, “only if you show me what you do.” and even when toji sparked up a slimy smirk, you remember how he stuffed his back pocket with your panties as anew tears began.
“fuck, they must really love you.” his words only add to the stinging humiliation – just how the cracking swats laying firm against the globes of your ass ache. and you could only claw at the broad shoulders ahead of you as a safe haven.
“don't get all shy. show me that slutty face-- show me those pretty ‘fuck me eyes’ of yours.” toji was cruel, battering your ass into his vice; squeezing and groping the tender skin ‘till the jiggly flesh molded out from between his fingers, forcing your face to tighten and eyes to peel back.
“toji!—”
“what? scared i’ll destroy your money maker?” you never knew how slimy your stepfather could get, watching how that silvery scar rises with a filthy smirk.
“fuck me. i’m too hard just to get fucking rubbed on.” your saliva thickens in your throat, feeling a twist in your stomach at his harsh and crude, sudden words.
the fleeting idea of fucking a man you call ‘father’ was wrenching, but feeling the thick print throbbing beneath you and the scare of your mother finding out hanging above your head, you slid your panties over the fat of your folds.
“good girl. bet they pay you lots for this-- how many gross men paid my pretty daughter for her pussy, huh?” toji gruffs out with no shame while adjusting his pants ‘till the fat pole of his meat spurred out.
you try hard to ignore the vulgar, spitting comments he spews out with, but watching how the older man worked his length with a sharp twist and panted at your body hovering over his to saddle against, you couldn't help but feel the moistened walls of your cunt flutter in shame.
“well, that don't matter now. i got a family discount.”
where was the shame anyways?
the oozing pre-drooling from the fat tip of his cock reminded you there wasn't any as you sucked in a deep breath to behest his throbbing length.
lined sweat crossing your forehead glistens as you settle your folds against the crown of his cock; dropping yourself to sheath around his more than nth-inch bitch-breaker into your pussy, feeling your walls stretch in vigor – an almost pain crowded but itched a deep sense of pleasure.
toji was thick, and he knows it too, watching how breathless you got stuffing yourself like a rag doll.
yet, he couldn't care, still holding that scare above your head and laid further back, soaking in the snug warmth your cunt blankets around him with. he lets out a breathy groan and cranes his head back while you suck in your bottom lip to chew on at the invasive fill.
you ignore how your stepfather never lets go of you barring hips, almost forcing them to roll tenderly against his with fervor. impatient he was, he squeezes at soft flesh to lean you – a position to let his cock piston up into your spongy walls with battering shock.
you gasp.
eyes peeling back wide at the barreling fill of his cock punching deep into your core mercilessly.
toji’s fist-sized balls bump against your ass with muffled claps at each thrust and you could only lean into his chest as a safe haven; clinging to his broad shoulders as trembling legs buckle around his, letting the older man fasten the sweaty work into his own hands. his rhythm was found quickly – a pace that was unrelenting and sharp; an immediate start-up of frantic fucking.
toji had the feeling of stuffing you balls deep pass through him like a sixth sense — as if he knew prodding at your cervix would make you drool, and he kept at it.
keeping you close with his cock powering through you and adding a strong edge to every buckle and jab into your sweet tightness, he hits at your cervix with the strength of one. the fleshy taut barrier concaves around his cockhead each time, forcing your eyes to bubble up in tears; tears of rather intense pleasure comprising with the mix of delicious pain. and the fast pressure applied to your sensitive perk forces your insides to respond by roiling around his cock, but crocodile tears  wasn’t enough to slow toji – not at all, only making the man closer to cumming.
but feeling tight walls spasm around his working cock, he froths knowing that sensation of a women – the longing feel of a high about to spatter a filthy mess against him, and he slows his hips, rocking them ever so slightly ‘till you catch the sense of reality back.
you almost whimper at the, almost, complete stop.
“your pussy was squeezing me, ‘bout to cum, huh?” clenching your eyes at the dirty truth, you shamelessly nod in hopes he'd run the engines again.
“no cumming for you. bad girls don't get good things, so finish me off.” toji keeps his vice around you and watches dearly how your eyes drop from hoods to doey sets.
“get to it. your mother comes home in ten minutes or so.” your senses click back from his gruff words, and you hadn’t realized how you were about to cum all over your stepfather's cock in minutes.
the growing sense of being impatient was heading for you, and the sense of being caught was looming right above your head – a guilt growing to fuck yourself like a toy in excuse…
choking up a sob, you keep the throbbing cock poking deep into your cunt, practically feeling the capped-tip kiss at your womb as you sat firmly into his thick lap. your father finally frees his bruising grip and lays his hands to the side nonchalantly, now letting you take charge — in a sense.
your hips roll against his in pure ardor, driving the breath from your own lungs in a single rush for a rhythm as gravity went to work; breast bouncing and panted moans falling. fucking the sopping heat of your cunt with broad strokes and harsh jabs that make your pussy writhe, you can even feel the dark pricks of hairs tickling at your clit; softly rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“better at riding dick than your mom.” he adds to the filth with no warning. purely enjoying ridden flesh sinking into embarrassment as sopping folds go obscenely wide in acceptance of his cock.
with full-bodied strokes — putting your all into it; every line and inch of flesh tensing hard as you rail yourself out. almost making a mess above him as toji felt his balls swell and cock fill out from it's aching knot; pleasure rising, the heat in each of your loins building to unthinkable heights.
toji gave no warning, again.
face tightening as toji moaned wordlessly as the thick slab of heavy meat burbs out spurts of liquid warmth into the deep core of your womb. you feverishly moan out in disgust, feeling the ropes of rich baby-batter paint into your teaming depths, slathering against the entrance of your womb and globbing out as you jump up and crawl away in notion fear.
“did you just cum in me?!” you groan at the side as toji’s dick still spurt out dribbles of white goo, “you're sick! i’m your daughter!” with the whiplash of your head, you only lock gazes with lazy green eyes that look at you no different.
you swallow up your words.
“anyways. if you're so worried, then you better hurry up n’ get your ass washed. your mom just pulled into the driveway.” toji looks over from your bedroom window, seeing a black car rolling in and parking…
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<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>
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nyctophiliq · 1 year
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love, i am a disgusting human...but here's my request: stepsis samira fucking you because she's jealous of your new gf and proves she can do it better. 😳😳💓
love you gf, feel absolutely free to ignore it if it makes you uncomfy 😽
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✮ —YOU RIGHT, SAMMY ; samira
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minors dni. afab! reader, nsfw ! — lowercase writing intended, dub-con, manipulation, dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, finger riding, clothed sex, cheating (?), jealous samira
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wc. 1,8k
moss’ notes; are you kidding estella? step-cest is the best dead dove do not eat content ever !!! this got more of a 'love-making' thing rather than 'fucking' :/ love you too gf, hope you enjoy 💗😳
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“in a minute!” you answered after a few knocks disturbed the silence in your room. can’t a girl take underwear pictures for her girlfriend in peace? you had no privacy in this house, everyone always wanted you to do something and that was fine, until like seven pm, after that you wanted to have the same respected free time as everyone else.
you threw your pajama back on, tossed your phone on the bed, and hurried to the tall white door of your room. it was a mess on your floor after you flipped the whole place up on its head, trying to find the lingerie set that you bought for just the moment like this, to send your girlfriend.
“samira?” she stood at your door, anger and sadness riddling her face. “what happened, are you okay?” despite hating your stepmother you loved her daughter, your step-sister, samira. she was caring, she got you to stuff you only dreamed of getting because of how strict your father was. she took you out to eat whatever you wanted, drove you to school without having to ask, and always left some extra cash in your pocket if you wanted to buy something nice for yourself. samira wasn’t like all those step-sisters in the movies, she wasn’t mean or a bully, she cared for you deeply, and she wanted to keep you safe no matter if it got her in trouble.
“why did you replace me, like all the others? you don’t love me anymore, y/n?”
samira had her fair share of rejections and broken relationships even with how big her heart really was. you sat next to her as she talked about how bad it was, letting her hold you after spilling her guts out, letting her kiss your cheek because you just felt sorry for your older sister- the one that had so much love to give, so much love she gives to you. but when that happens other things happen too… you always convinced yourself it was alright for that to happen, it only happened a couple of times that she pulled you onto her lap, and kissed you sweetly on the lips before pushing you on your back and kissing you some more.
“sami- what are you, don’t…” you gasp, eyes still open in surprise at the sudden feeling of your step-sister’s lips against yours and she feels the way your fingers stiffen in her oversized shirt, unmoving while she kisses you, moving her mouth against yours all while you gawk and freeze in front of her.
but she’s heartbroken, right? she was rejected yet again and her step-sister wouldn’t hurt her feelings too, would you? so you let her even if there is a feeling in your stomach that’s telling you this is wrong, that you have a girlfriend and you are cheating her on, with your step-sister! but samira was always so sweet to you and you don’t want to upset her by being like all the rest.
“aren’t you gonna kiss me back, you love me, don’cha?” samira asks in earnest when she pulls away to frown at you, her voice slurred a bit as her hand grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling on it like a needy child. “i d-do, i do…” you find the strength to respond, and it truly warms you from the inside out when she smiles at you softly and gives you another peck on the lips before taking your hand, dragging you towards the bed while kicking your door shut with her leg.
samira sat down on the bed, her hands now resting on your waist, staring up at you before they slip under the shirt to caress your stomach and hips. her fingers play with the cloth before pushing it slightly upwards, revealing the underside of your lacy bra. her fingers ball into a fist, creasing your shirt with it before both of her hands caught your pajama top and pulled it off of you, exposing the rest of your lewd underwear.
“you are wearing this for her, don’t you? were you lying to me when you said you love me?“ her anger takes the better of her, forcefully grabbing you by your bra straps and pulling you onto her lap. your knees rest on either side of her thighs, hands holding you up by her shoulder as you shake your head. “i do love you, sammy, i-i promise- it’s for you…” 
“i’m sorry for hurting you,” she says, her eyes fixed on your chest before her lips connect with the reddened skin, moving the strap aside to give her better access, sliding it down your arm and her hand reaching behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra.
“we should stop... sammy, i have a g-girlfriend.” your voice is small and you feel just as small. how can you say that to her? you wanna please her because there is no way you want to hurt her feelings when she’s already so fragile.
“but i love you and you love me… this is what you do when you love someone, y/n.” she grunts, chest heaving against yours as she breathes heavily against your skin and it’s almost too quick the way you’re replying, feeling as your bra loosens around your chest and then samira helps you out of it, hastily tossing it to the side.
“yeah, you are right, i-i’m sorry sammy…” samira sighs as she watches your breasts hang free on your body. she wants to take them into her mouth, lick your nipples until they perk up, tug on them so they become nice and puffy, pinch them to hear you say her name so prettily.
taking shaky breaths as she tries to pull herself together. something dangerous turns inside of her when she looks up at your teary eyes and nods softly, biting nervously at the inside of your cheek. “it’s okay, i would never be angry at you, baby.” she slurs, stroking the top of your head, pushing the scattered strands of hair out of your face with an eager smile on her face. she leans in, slurring some kind of praise before kissing you again, prying your lips open with her own as she licks eagerly into your mouth, drinking up your moans while your fingers twist and pull in her hair, her clothed thigh rubbing against your panties.
“it’s alright, sammy’s gonna make ya feel good, princess. so just… listen to your big sister, hm?” she asks, voice whispering directly into your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine. it was less of a question and more of a command, one you melted into, nodding briefly as you bit your lip, too nervous to talk. your reaction amused samira and she smiled sweetly as she pressed a kiss against your collarbone eliciting a pleased exhale from you.
“does it feel good, hm?” samira had thought about this before, thought about her lips against your skin, marking you as hers, hearing you say how much you liked it. she wanted to hear you say that you liked her delicate fingers running over your skin, the way you make yourself wet as she touches you. “y-yes!”
“does it feel better than her, your girlfriend, right? she knows nothing about how to touch you, i do… your big sister sammy does.” she says as she rubs gentle circles into the plush of your thigh, slightly pinching it whenever inchings closer to your aching core. your mind is almost too foggy with lust to respond, all you can think about is her, feeling more, more of her. “she k-knows nothing… you do s-sammy.” you choke on your words, head falling on her shoulder when her fingers touch your clothed entrance, poking the delicate fabric of your panties, toying with it for a second before pushing it aside.
samira grins at your answer, her chest blooming with pride, her fingers slowly pushing inside of you and she chuckles when you let a strained moan out. poor you must have been waiting for this for a while, you wouldn’t touch yourself in the dead of night, right? your parents always bother you so late and you can never satisfy yourself, that’s why you tried to find a girlfriend because you were too scared to ask for sammy’s help. “you feel amazing sissy, nice and warm… squishy.”
“s’good sammy… feels s’good.” you moan mindlessly as she starts to pump her fingers inside. you can hear the faintest slick from your soaked cunt and you almost want to hide it, burying your face deeper into the crook of her neck. her two slim fingers slide smoothly in and out of you, your soft moans buzzing on her skin as she starts picking her pace up.
her eyes roll back as she feels something tickling the thin skin of her collarbones, your saliva trickling down until it hides in her shirt. she curls her finger up and your hips lift to meet the feeling, drive it deeper, pleasure flourishing through your body in waves. her other hand comes up to palm one of your breasts, squeezing them until the fat oozes out between her fingers, moving to flick your nipple with her thumb when you bite into her skin.
“yeah? you wanna cum on my fingers pretty?” samira asks as she presses hot kisses against your cool, sweat-slicked neck.
you nod dumbly, words falling out of your mouth incoherently as you near your high. the heel of her palm presses against your clit, shooting electricity through your nerves, curling your toes, forcing your hips to roll faster, and all you can really focus on is how good it feels when she kisses your neck, leaving the lingering feeling of her lips behind. before you know it you are coming undone, cunt squeezing down on her fingers as you cream on them. you reach for the arm that is inside your panties, nails digging into her flesh as you ride out your high.
“sissy, what do we say when somebody makes us cum?” she hummed while pulling out of you, kindly petting your entrance with her soaked fingers. you take a few short breaths, each of them cutting off as you begin to sob, your arms sliding around samira’s shoulder to pull her closer, digging into her muscles as the last of your orgasm twitches through your body.
“tha-thank you… thank you sammy.” you bawl as you try to pull her body closer to yours, trying to claim the warmth that she is emitting. it was so cold in the room now, without her fingers warming your insides… samira really did know best.
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
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If you don’t care what two individuals do in their spare time then what’s stopping you from writing step father/daughter incest? Which is also gross. And illegal. I like your other works sis, I appreciate authors that put the warnings so I can stay away from the dark content. But I’m just saying that like of reasoning doesn’t make any sense.
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NOTHING IS STOPPING ME ‼️ I DO WHAT I WANT ‼️ UNFOLLOW ME ‼️
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toji-girl · 1 month
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Oh yes! It was that post!! I was trying to see if u write incest. Lol
I do yes 😫😫😫🫠🫠🫠 I don't talk about it much but something about big brothers who just want to sink their teeth into you and never let go...mhm...step-daddy too gets me all flustered lmaooo
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armysantiny · 5 months
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, step cest, none of reader's holes are safe
fem reader
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Thinking about step-daddy who only married your mom to get closer to you... who thinks an unruly brat like yourself needs his firm hands and teachings to set you on the right course.
You can't believe what’s happening – can’t believe his words.
Your mind is caught in a frenzied state of denial and panic as he forces you down on your bed after you'd told him to get the fuck out of your room when he walked in on you getting dressed to go out, standing there in only a dainty set of panties.
You brace your hands against his broad chest as he bears down on you – trying to create space for you to breathe but achieving little else than if you’d been trying to lift a mountain.
He’s too big and too heavy – too strong.
He doesn’t even bother restraining your fists – not even when you start banging them against him. It’s as if he doesn’t even recognize the assault – busy burying his face in your cute cleavage, nuzzling the soft mounds with sloppy kisses and his bearded chin.
“Stop it!” You hic through tears – sobbing now that the pursuing events dawn on you, coming crashing down, wreaking through your brittle head at the feeling of your panties being tugged down your thighs – flimsy lace splintering before getting ripped off.
He disrupts your cry with a firm hand, taking hold of your chin – and you fall still in wait. 
“You' gonna let Daddy eat your pretty pussy out if you know what's good for you…” His lips brush yours with the vile threat while his other hand cups your bare cunt – whispering ruggedly, “Or I might just have to put you over my knee.”
You’re frozen beneath him – eyes shimmering with gloss, staring up into his impossibly dark stare – feeling leveled under the burden of his threat.
“What’s it gonna be, sweetpea? Y’gonna behave for Daddy? Or am I gonna have to use my belt on you?”
You stay still, and he takes it as your answer – smiling at you before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. 
“That’s Daddy’s good girl~”
Leaning back, he wrings his shirt off over his shoulders, revealing his bulky chest of curls and worn skin before throwing the article aside and looking back down at you with drunken eyes that give you shivers. His old muscles are flecked with age but no less brutal to behold – all intimidating enough to make you swallow thickly.
“You can cry out all you like, pretty girl~” He grins as he takes your thighs in his hands – lifting them, spreading them, then pushing them flat down against your chest – tipping your cunt up to his mouth. "A good girl knows how to scream." His breath is ticklish on your exposed sex. “But the only words I wanna hear come out of your mouth is – yes please, daddy – more please, daddy – and pretty please, daddy, can I cum?”
You whine when he licks a stripe through your folds – dark eyes glinting at the sound, chuckling hotly under his breath.
“Walkin’ ‘round my house dressed up like a little slut – teasin’ me all day long.” He gruffs. “Tch – this pretty cunt’s gonna get what you’ve been beggin’ for, and you’re gonna take it with a smile – understand that, little lady?”
Your toes are immediately curled, gripping the air for purchase as he buries his face in your muff. And he’s messy with it – spitting, then slurping it up again – splitting the lips to suck your clit, then pressing a deep kiss into it – tongue flatly running over the pearl, lapping at it like a dog. All with a heated glare – hungry like a starved animal – eagerly set on your face.
You squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it, lip caught between teeth – trying to stifle all moans.
But the folded position he has you in presses you free of air – soon leaving you to pant out like a silly bitch in heat – thighs wanting to squeeze shut but kept pinned and trembling in the harsh grip he has on them.
“Oh~ look at yah~ my little slut~” He hums between licks, a grin still slickly plastered on his face – mustache glistening with drool and arousal. “Must feel good to make you tremble like that – does my little girl wanna cum?”
You whine, trying to shake your head in denial – but the pressure builds whether you want it to or not – squeezing tight like a fist in your gut, desperate to unknot.
“Better ask for Daddy’s permission, or I won't be happy.” He adds, giving your thighs a pinch – hard enough to make you yelp – sure to leave bruises.
“Ah – no.”
You don’t want it – you curl your head to the side with a grimace.
You feel gross – reeling as his tongue circles your hotspot, unable to deny the tickle in your gut – recognizing the blossoming, knowing you’d soon bloom.
“Mgh," You whine. "Yes, please! I need – can I please cum?!”
“Call me Daddy.” He demands, talking into your cunt while nuzzling his nose against your clit.
“Please, Daddy – please, can I cum!”
Another chuckle makes you shake – almost impatiently – before he purrs, “Sure, baby – go ahead – make a mess~” 
He gives your clit one last harsh suck before sticking his tongue inside you, deep with a grin, while feeling you tremor on it, tasting your sweet release like it was a victory.
You throw your head back and your chest up – whole body quaking – trembling at the thrill pulsing from your core, zipping along each limb – leaving you feeling cottony and numb from the pleasure.
You pant with softer moans when it dissipates – still feeling twitchy.
Hooded eyes with teary lashes fall from the ceiling to his face – then regret it.
The shame washes away all pleasure – making your sweat go cold.
But if he sees it, he doesn’t care. “That was beautiful, baby girl~” He moans instead, eyes still keenly set on you.
You cringe, chagrined as he kisses your slit once more – tonguing the slick opening and humming at the sweet taste.
He finishes you with a sharp kitten lick flicking off at your clit – then releases your thighs. Pulling you with him as he got up on his feet by the edge of your bed.
“C’mere – on your knees.” His fist wraps your hair – tugging your head back. “Open wide and tongue out fo’me. It's my turn.”
Your brows cinch, feeling your scalp sting from the grip, making you timidly obey.
He groans at the pretty sight – looking so cute with that dewy glow on your cheeks – plush lips wet and welcoming – pink tongue trembling in eager wait of him.
Sighing with a leer, “Such a pretty little thing~” His other hand zips down his fly, pinched free the button, and let the baggy slacks drop to the floor.
Thicker tears pool in your eyes – a horrid burn of humiliation making your tongue feel heavy, kneeling beneath him with your mouth gaping – knowing what was coming.
“This is what you wanted, right – why you've been acting like such a brat?” He pulls your face against the pudgy bulge in his boxer – warm and thick beneath the black fabric with a ripe smell of musk. “You wanna be Daddy’s big fat cock to satisfy all your greedy little holes, hm?”
You don’t close your mouth – the fist ripping your strands from their roots was warning enough to keep you pliant.
“Come on then, little slut~” He started cooing, nudging the sack against your tongue, dipping inside the warm opening. “Show me how much you want it – and don’t look away.” The smile on his face made your guts fold. “I wanna see those pretty eyes beg for it.”
He gives your hair a sharper tug, forcing out a whine from your throat. It spurs him on, making him chuckle – watching your eyes tremble up at him – struggling against his bulbous crotch, cuddling it so cutely, making him twitch.
Rasping out, “Such a needy little whore~” while his other hand dragged the band down.
Your mouth sealed closed on instinct – eyes too – shutting tightly once his cock sprung free. Whimpering when feeling it slug on your face – you tried to turn your head away – but was kept close by the hand fisting your hair.
“Bad girl, I told you to keep your mouth open and your eyes on me.” He sneered, pinching your cheeks open with the other hand – hard enough to make you wince.
You peeled your eyes open again – with tears slipping down your face as you dropped your jaw for him again.
“Playing games like a snotty brat.” He hissed, rubbing his leaky cockhead over your parted lips – smearing his pre on them like lipstick while you shuddered. “Look at you now, mmh~ such a good girl for Daddy~ taking it on your knees.”
He dabbed himself on your tongue, and you had to keep yourself from retching – tasting the bitter salt.
“Mmh~ begging for it like an eager little cum-junkie~” He groaned, lolling forward, cock sliding over the bed of your tongue and hitting the back of your throat in a soft kiss – only with half his veiny shaft in your mouth.
He licked his lips and threw his head back.
“I knew you just needed a firm grip – knew you’d make the most perfect little slut fo’me~”
You gagged when he started thrusting, hands positioning themselves on his sturdy thighs, fingers digging into the muscles as he stuffed your mouth full of his length – weighty balls clapping against your chin where spit started frothing.
He held your jaw in guidance – keeping you steady to receive him.
Throaty moans grated your ears as he abused the wet warmth – looking down at you and how you struggled, unable to take all of him. It didn’t bother him, though – the tight ring of your lips sucking along his veins was enough to make him go crazy.
It felt so right to be throat-fucking your pretty little face; he couldn't believe he hadn't done it sooner – creating such a cute mess all over you – looking so hot on your knees for him like this, with spit and pre cum slicking your face like a young prostitute in the making.
You obeyed as best you could – not used to the size or tempo. You'd given few blowjobs before and never been facefucked. But you figured the sooner you could make him cum, the sooner all this would be over.
He thought about it, too. He could cum down your throat like this, make you swallow – drink his seed like a good whore should.
But the idea is soon replaced by the thought of stuffing your sweet cunt instead – feed your womb his hot load – wear your tight pussy like it was tailored just for him.
He popped out of your mouth, and you coughed before heaving for air – panting – nearly barreling over if it hadn’t been for the grip he still had around your hair. 
Pulling you up by it – his other hand found your throat, and your mouth was taken by his – kissed hungrily with teeth pulling at your lip while tickled by his facial hair.
“Mh- c’mere,” He groaned into your mouth – plopping himself down on the mattress while pulling you along by the neck. “Up on my Daddy’s lap, baby.”
He continues kissing you, with both hands slipping down to squeeze each asscheek, rolling your hips back and forth on him, making your wet cunt grind against the stiff underside of his cock.
You can’t help but make a noise as it licks your sensitive clit, rubbing over it in wet warm strokes. You balance yourself against his chest – hands placed on his muscles – pushing yourself up from slacking against him.
You’re still breathless, left gasping – too weak to fight it when he leans after you, mouth on your tits, sucking your nipples into hardened little peaks.
Your hands go to the hair atop his head, gripping the locks to steady yourself.
He chuckles at the pull, looking up at you while rasping out a filthy “Is my little girl excited to get her little pussy stuffed by Daddy’s cock?” with a lazy grin carved on his face.
And before you can deny it, he’s already confirming the statement.
“You must be – your little cunt is so fucking wet for it.” He cheered. Hand slipping between you to slap his thickness against your slit – rubbing himself between the lips with a mocking pout on his lips. “This poor little pussy, cock-starved and empty~ I know, I know, you want to cum on Daddy’s cock, don’t you?”
He lifts your ass up so that you’re hovering over the tip – using the other hand to angle it against your entrance.
Purring, “Don’t worry, baby~ finally gonna stretch you out nice and tight~ fuck you into size like a proper cock-toy~ fill you up with my hot cum~”
You shake your head and squirm when he begins to nudge the head inside – but both hands place themselves back on your hips, gripping them firmly enough for it to find purchase.
“There we go, ease on down it, baby~ get comfortable~” He coos, even though you’re sinking your nails into the tough muscles of his chest – gasping at the ill sting of the stretch as he pushes you down despite the tight resistance. “Oh, fuuuck – so wet and snug on me~” He sucks his teeth, snapping his hips up to bottom out deeply. “Take all of me, now~ let Daddy bottom out~”
His head hangs back – Adam’s apple bobbing up with his mouth hung wide in a silent moan while you wince – desperately wanting to lift off. 
But he keeps you seated – tensely made to cock-warm him while slowly adjusting to the size – taunt walls rippling along his veins, sucking on it as it settles inside you, molding you to accept its shape.
He squares his jaw, then gives a breathy hum that makes his beard dance – lifting his head to look at where he’s got himself sheathed to the hilt – his eyes lost in it as he sets a slow pace – using both hands to steer your hips, rocking you back and forth with barely any lift to relieve you – keeping himself lodged just as deep – cozily kneading your cervix.
“That’s a good pussy right there – wet and tight and all mine.” He groans, lolling you on him sweetly. “Isn't that right, baby? This pretty pussy belongs to Daddy, doesn’t it?”
He watches your perky tits jiggle for him. Leaning forward, he gives it a suckling wet pop.
“Every inch of this slut’s body belongs to Daddy, isn’t that right, little one?” He demands a little harsher, threatening the nipple between his teeth.
“Ye-yes…” You whimper. 
It’s been a while since you’ve been stretched like that – it’s been a while since your insides have been given any attention at all. When you do it for yourself, you mostly just settle for playing with your clit – happy with one orgasm to take the edge off.
This is touching on more nerves – lighting other fires – different wells – tapping all sources – you’re leaking juices all over him, practically sopping, sucking him in – all but your head overly ecstatic for the attention.
“You wanna cum again – don’t you, my little slut?” He murmurs knowingly, giving your ass a harsh slap while pressing his forehead against yours.
He groans as he picks up the pace – dragging a moan out from your chest.
You want to deny it again like before – but the pleasure allows little else than to be appreciated with heavy shuddering breaths.
“Remember the rules, sweetie. Better beg permission, or you’ll be punished.” He warns.
You spot a grin forming on his lips – sharp like a knife – before uttering the next words.
“Better say, please let me cum on your big fat cock, Daddy~”
You scowl, trying to sneer, “Fuh-fuck you…” but your voice weakens to a whine.
Still, it’s unacceptable.
“That’s not how you speak to your Daddy. Bad slut.” A harder slap cracks across your ass – this time, making you yelp.
Your hair is pulled before you recover – and you’re thrown off his lap. Placed with your knees on the floor and your face in the warm and sweaty seat he’d just been sitting.
He stands above you – using a hand to pin your wrists to the small of your back while another hard smack is given to your already throbbing rear.
“If your pussy won’t follow the rules…” He licks his lips, looking down at the sight of you bent over beneath him, sobbing fat tears from the abuse. “Then this ass is next in line.”
You flinch with the words, eyes going wide. “What?” Already shuffling uneasily, gasping once his heavy hand came back to pet the welted cheek, branded with his handprint, giving it a firm squeeze that had you wince.
“It seems you don’t understand who’s in charge here…” He chided, with a coarse finger settling on the untouched rosebud slicked in pussy-juice, rubbing it slow and steady. “But I bet fucking your tight virgin ass is gonna make that crystal clear.”
“No – please no-” You plead, jostling weakly with your remaining strength – but the digit enters you anyway.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s too late to beg now – you gotta take your punishment,” He dismisses, digging knuckle-deep inside your butthole. “But to be honest with you… I was hoping you’d bite back like that.” He gruffs eerily at your ear. “I dream about putting your bratty ass in its proper place every night.” 
His finger twists and curls inside the hole, loosening it a little before skewering another two in. 
“Make you cry as I turn you into a good little butt-slut for me – get this sweet hole to gape for my cock to fill it up.”
He puts you in a headlock after pulling his three fingers out of your stretched opening – letting go of your wrists in favor of reaching under you to play with your pussy as he bullies his bulbous cockhead into the tight ring while you cry. With nails biting into your palms and your poor gushing cunt clenching around nothing.
He enters slowly, giving it shallow thrusts to fuck it open before feeding it another fat inch. Rubbing your clit between gritty fingers as he sinks inside you – burying his shaft within the snug walls of your tight ass as your hole gives in to his size, swallowing him up until he’s kissing your stomach with his heavy balls squeezed flush against your cunt.
“There you go, my little anal slut~ That’s Daddy’s brat getting taught her place!” He gives your butt another firm slap as he starts dragging out and stuffing you right back up again. “Getting her naughty ass spanked and propped with cock like a little whore~”
The fat arm squeezing your neck and the fingers swirling your clit make your head cloudy – even as your ass screams from the pounding, your cunt begs for the attention – milking nothing as it weeps with slick, running down your thighs into a little pool where you kneel.
“Aah- Daddy…” You moan through a sob. “Please…” Whimpering while you throttle his cock with your taunt ass, all but fucking yourself back on his shaft as he keeps rubbing your clit in steady patterns that have your cunt kissing the air. “Daddy, please – please let me cum…”
His chuckle is lazy and grating, feeling your cute ass swallow his cock all on its own.
“Y’know, only a real whore cums from having her ass fucked, right?”
You can’t help but buck your hips, shaking your ass like a slut as his fingers pick up the pace and rub your bundle of nerves in quicker circles. Begging, “Please…” 
“Oh, what a filthy little girl~ bent over like a mindless animal, fucked in her tight ass.” He patronizes. “Okay, my sweet little slut~ I’ll let you cum – but only after I hear you Say, please, Daddy, can I cum on your big fat cock~”
You’re too close to refuse. Desperation lacing your cute moans, “Ah – Daddy, please – mh-please can I cum on your big- ah – fat cock, please, Daddy please~”
He shoves three fingers in your cunt at that, curling them into your soft spot each time he pumps them inside, finger-fucking the sloppy hole until it spurts, making you scream while you squirt, drooling on your sheets like a mind-broken mess as your thighs and ass shake from the release.
“Good whore~ Remember to say thank you.” He mocks.
“Th-thank you – thank you, Daddy~” You mewl out cutely before he sticks all three slick-glossed fingers inside your mouth – fucking the tired opening as you pant out dewy moans around them, sucking them clean of your mess.
He keeps a steady rhythm, continuing to ream your poor butt until it's his turn to cum.
“Such a good slut~” He slinks out of your pummeled ass and slaps his wet cock against your face where you rest against the bed, all sweaty and dumb from your orgasm. “Come’ere, cum-baby, tongue out as you look up at Daddy~”
He smiles, smothering you between his fat thighs while his balls cover your face, pulling back to tap the tip on your lips.
“Here it comes!”
White ropes lash your tongue, leaving a bitter taste – bejewelling your face with pretty pearls that melt down your smooth skin like drying paint on a canvas.
He groans as he tugs the last few spurts out of his balls, wiping the messy cockhead on your tongue.
“Aw, I gotta have a picture of that. Daddy’s little cum covered whore on her first day of training~”
He holds your chin, rough-handling your jaw between strong fingers as he angles your face to meet the flash of his phone.
Grinning as he sing-songs, “Say, all my holes belong to Daddy~”
Your expression is still dumb, softly blinking up at him with one eye weighed down with his cum, simply mouthing the words back to him. “All my holes belong to Daddy~”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa
JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji, Higuruma
HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Ukai
AOT – Erwin, Zeke
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xinfinitegalaxiesx · 1 year
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Rey Gets Stuck
Rey Gets Stuck Rated E | 1/1 (5,699 words) Ben's attempt to help Rey escape from the doggy-door becomes futile when he is suddenly faced with her very short, very pink tennis skirt.
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Gift moodie from tayloremrose
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NSFW art from crumbs
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sadomas0chist · 11 months
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brat in pink I
────── toji fushiguro
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⤷ mom’s bf!toji who can’t keep his eyes of you and your little slutty behavior at the small pool party you threw at your house.
tw: age gap (20s ; 40s) , toji is dating your mom (step cest??), corruption kink, daddy kink, starts as hcs, dun con, size kink, jealousy, filming (slightly), doggy, riding, squirting, breeding kink, spanking, slight dacryphilia, slapping, not proofread (wrote this at work lol), MDNI
part I - part II
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who grunts in annoyance when you beg your mom to let you throw a party in your house to celebrate your twenty first birthday. as much as he tries to look away, he can’t stop gazing at your pretty perky tits that are bouncing as you jump around following your mother.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who listens to the people you want to invite to your pool, his jaw clenching each time to mention a boy. especially when you mention gojo a light blush dusting your cheeks.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who is lowkey pissed that your mother finally agreed to your pleas, having to watch you dance around half naked in front of other men. he’s even angrier when he’s left all alone to supervise you since your mom will be away for a few days.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who balls his fist and glares at you when you start taking sexy picture in your small pink bikini, your ass and tits almost out as you pose sultry for the camera. he is pissed that you are taking more pleasure seeking the dumb young boys’ attention around you than focusing on having his. although you did.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who watches you closely as you dance against the white haired man, his hand dipping in your flesh as he sheepishly whispers in your ear. you catch him staring, a weird feeling rushing through your core as his eyes gaze at you, the goosebumps on your skin rising.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who makes up an excuse about how some chemicals got in the pool so all your invitees would leave. “i’m so sorry,” you repeated as they left, an understanding grin on their face. as gojo went to kiss you goodbye, toji stood next to you, pulling you closer to him. the young man took the hint as he stayed away, waving at you before leaving.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who silently watches you pick which picture looks better to post it on your feed. “you’re not clothed enough.” was his response when you went to him to have his opinion.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚mom’s bf!toji who wants to teach you a lesson about being a good girl instead of spreading half naked pictures of yourself for the world to see. he should only be the one to see them.
“daddy…” you whined as his hips rutted against your ass, his grip on your hip hardening at the nickname. toji threw his head back, watching you bury your flushed face between your plushies as he fucked you on your pink sheets. “daddy’s so mad at you for acting like a dirty brat, fhuck,” he grunted, pushing at your lower back to deepen your arch, your tiny cunt feeling tighter. “you’re gonna suffocate me, shit,”
toji was gripping your hands behind your back, pulling you up to play with your pretty nipples, occasionally pinching them to hear you yelp in pain, then bring you down again to keep thrusting hard. “‘m gonna ruin you for any other guy, especially that gojo,” hearing his words make you clench on him harder, the doubt and shame you had about fucking your mother’s boyfriend now gone. “you’re squeezing me baby, is it because i mentioned his name?” he harshly barks, spanking your plump ass. you whined and yelped, your lashes glossy as you try to push him away by wiggling your hips.
“nuh uh, no running from me,” he chuckled, his scar turning up with his lip as he grabbed your hair to pull your head up, your moans and tears turning him on even more. “i clenched because o-of you daddy,” you whimpered, your submissive self delighting him, his hips moving at a slower yet deeper pace. toji smirked before pulling out, a small whine leaving your lips as you were left to throb around nothing, you tiny hole clenching. it was adorably filthy. he was ruining you and he loved it. you heard him grab something before you saw a flash, realizing he was recording. “since you love looking like a whore,” he muttered, rubbing your ass before spanking it. “might as well get it on film.” he laughed, pulling you back on his swollen tip, his girth stretching you all at once.
“n-no, wait!!” you tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen. he pounded into faster, your body acting the opposite of your words as you found yourself throwing yourself back on him to meet him half thrust. “such a dirty brat,” he squeezed your ass, his hand going around your waist to rub your clit. “so good,” you lulled out your tongue, eyes half lidded. he pulled his sticky hair back before bringing your body up. his thumb pressed against your tongue, opening your mouth even more before taunting you: “who else can make you stick out your tongue like a filthy slut huh? who?” he bit your neck, your whines accentuating as he stimulated your clit, your orgasm close.
“just you, no one else b-but you daddy, i wanna cum,” you cried, your head heavy as you threw it back on his shoulder. you went limp. his hips pounded you faster before throwing you back on the bed, your legs spread out as you gushed on your bed, squirting and making a mess on your pink sheets, your pretty pussy quivering.
“cum for daddy that’s it, make a mess baby,” he stroked his cock as he watched you go dumb, slapping your pussy a few times just to watch you shake. he ended the recording, smiling at the video before throwing his phone away.
“we’re not done yet sweetheart, up.” you whined as he handled you, turning you around to kiss you lips, his tongue parting your lips to deepen the kiss. he sat on the bed next to you, pulling you to his hard cock, slamming you on top of him. you whimpered against his lips as he fucked up into you, his hands digging into your hips, hoping his fingerprints would replace gojo’s. “he’ll never be able to fuck you like this. hear me?” he slightly slapped your cheek then grabbed your jaw to make you look at him, your face fucked out. he was fucking dumb and you were becoming incoherent. the only thing that was coming out of your mouth were the whines and moans as he sucked on your tits the while he slammed your small pussy.
you were so small compared to him, so easy to hold, to fuck and to manipulate. you were so easy to corrupt and he was enjoying every second of it. “daddy, ‘s big, so big,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. toji held on your hands to guide it to your lower stomach, making your feel his depth. “daddy’s here baby,” the overstimulation made you moan, you legs bucking uncontrollably as your second orgasm hit you.
“know what, fucking hell, you feel so good baby, so fucking tight, my cock’s gonna stretch you so good,”
“gonna breed you, so no one else can touch you, huh? what’d you say,” he chuckled as he slammed a few more times inside you, emptying his heavy load inside you. your insides felt warm and good as his cum filled you up, your head too heavy to even react to what was going on.
you woke up the next day on new sheets and naked on your bed. you grabbed your phone to find an airdrop message. you gasped when you saw the video that toji took from you last night, your thighs squeezing as you recalled how his fat cock felt inside you. shamelessly, you airdropped him back a well taken picture of you spread out on your bed, biting your nails and pussy puffy. it didn’t take him a lot to come rushing through your bedroom door to ruin you again.
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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months
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BAD BLOOD pt 4
Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller
Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, dub con (for Tommy), big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, dark!reader, m/f!oral, mfm, unprotected piv (wrap it up), anal, rough sex, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (light), alcohol consumption, swearing, Tommy can pick up reader.
Summary: you finally get what you want.
Word count: 4.7k
A/n: this is filthy y’all! Enjoy💖 also in the next part it’s gonna go down so stay tuned! As always big thank you and also kisses and hugs to @milla-frenchy for the encouragement and valuable advice!😘❤️
Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST
*****
Tommy can’t believe that it’s happening. It feels like a dream. And he’s had so many about you. His sleeping mind was tortured by the images of you on your knees, your mouth open and ready to welcome his throbbing cock, or splayed on the dinner table, legs open and pussy waiting to be stuffed by him. He used to brush them off, feeling embarrassed and guilty the next morning when you’d say ‘hi’ to him in the kitchen. They subsided when you left for another year of college, only to return with a new force after you came back for the holidays.
He used to tell himself that he’d never do anything about it. He’d never do it to Jess, to you. Your youth should be carefree and not burdened by your middle aged stepfather wanting to fuck you.
But this summer it got so much worse. It seemed like you were testing him, his sanity, his loyalty to his wife, your mother. Everything you wore called for his hungry eyes, your every move, laugh, smile made his cock twitch in his pants. He took too many cold showers. It started to get ridiculous. So he decided to give himself a way out. He jerked off to the thought of you almost every day. He pumped his throbbing member in the bathroom after seeing you in a flowy summer dress. The image of you on the grass with your ass in the air, pussy glistening under the bright summer sun pushed him over the edge and after a few moments of ecstasy he felt sick. With himself, with his dick, with his life.
When Joel asked him ‘that’ question whatever wall he had built in his mind fell apart. The way you talked to him that night at the bar made it impossible to deny it. Impossible to stop it from happening. He needed to fuck you.
***
Tommy was mere minutes from his desire becoming reality. You’re on his lap, straddling him, your naked pussy pressed tightly to his bulge.
“Fuck, angel, you have a knock out ass,” Joel comments driving the three of you home through the dark streets and glancing from time to time at the way you’re grinding against your stepdad’s clothed cock.
“Thank you, uncle Joel,” you purr, parting from Tommy’s neck with a pop. A flash of a streetlight eliminates a darkening hickey on his skin that you’ve left for Jess to find.
Your bra and panties are long gone, stuffed into your purse. Tommy’s hands are kneading your ass cheeks and you pull your neckline down before pushing your naked breasts into his face. He immediately takes your nipple in his mouth and starts sucking and licking, his groans sending vibrations against your sensitive skin.
“Oh, daddy,” you whimper and he thrusts his hips into you making you jump on his crotch.
He lifts his face to you and you meet his gaze, so full of affection and need you wonder where and how he’s been hiding all that.
***
When Joel parks the car at the driveway you get off your stepdad and, after fixing your dress, jump out of the car trying not to flash the neighbors with your pussy. The night covers up his company but Tommy still tries to keep his distance out in the street. Yet as soon as you open the door and walk in he grabs you and spins you to face him. His mouth crashes on yours and he devours you like the tastiest fruit he’s ever had.
Joel enters and comes up to you two placing his big hand on your ass. You part from your stepdad and look at the men, your eyes shiny with excitement.
“Let’s go to the bedroom,” you offer while your head is spinning with possibilities of what they’re going to do to you.
Joel hums and pouts his lips seemingly chill about your invitation but his bulge is the biggest you’ve seen on him and you know that you’re the reason. You smirk and open your mouth, ready to diss him, but instead a gasp leaves your lips when Tommy bends down, presses his shoulder to your middle and lifts you off your feet. You clutch the shirt on his back scared of falling but he’s holding you tight so you start giggling.
“What the fuck? What are you doing?”
“The bed will wait”, he says and slaps your ass and pussy lips which are fully exposed in this position.
You tilt your head up gawking at Joel with wide eyes but he just chuckles following you two,
“Daddy knows best, angel.”
To your surprise Tommy takes you to the dining room. He carefully lowers you and sets you down on the dining table.
“Lie down for me, babygirl,” he mutters and manhandles you on your back along the surface and then stands between your legs, at the head of the table. You turn your head to the side and see Joel leaning against the wall with a smug smile on his face.
You lift yourself up on your elbows and look at Tommy with an eyebrow raised,
“I think a bed would be more comfortable, daddy.”
He places his big hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down making the ache in your core burn brighter. You open your thighs wider and he looks at your pussy exhaling a soft ‘yeah’.
Then he turns back, grabs a chair and sits down. You see his face between your thighs and feel your pussy clench and gush more.
Tommy pulls you closer to him and you place your feet on his thighs. He takes them in his hands and takes your shoes off one and then the other.
“Always wanted to eat your sweet pussy at this table instead of Jess’s dry turkey,” Tommy says as he puts your bare feet on the table, your knees bent and your pussy perfectly on display for him.
You moan, lowering your head back on the surface as your heart is booming in your ears.
“H-how long have you wanted me, Tommy?” you ask, trying to keep your cool but inwardly screaming with joy at his confession.
“Long enough to know exactly what I wanna do to you,” he mumbles and in the next moment you feel his warm lips on your cold wet pussy. You gasp and look up seeing him push his tongue between your folds and start making out with your cunt. You whimper and turn to Joel who’s still leaning against the wall watching your stepdad feast on your pussy nonchalantly like it’s some half decent cable porn. His eyes are dark and you know his cock wants to come out to play judging by his massive bulge but he waits, not wishing to interrupt you two. ‘Fuck,’ you think, ‘He really wants his brother back in Austin’.
You return your eyes to your stepdad whose curly hair is tickling the insides of your thighs now as his tongue circles around your clit and then slides down finding your dripping hole before he starts fucking his hot muscle into you.
You moan loudly with every thrust, your legs trembling and stomach heaving with an upcoming orgasm. You run your fingers through his hair and he growls against your flesh. The vibrations make you arch your back with pleasure as you tilt your head back whimpering,
“Fuck… daddy.”
Suddenly you hear Joel’s voice, gruff and calm, as he walks to the wet bar,
“Want some whiskey with your pussy, Tommy?”
Tommy smiles against your folds and parts from them for a second to reply, “Nah, she’s fucking juicy. Might need a napkin.”
He looks up at you and winks as you smile back at him biting your lip. Then he dives back and starts gently sucking on your clit. You’re about to unravel when you see Joel coming up to the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his cock in the other. You curse through your whimpers seeing his huge member pulsating and throbbing, his dark pink head glistening with smeared pre cum. You know you did it to him and pride blooms in your heart.
“Mind if I play with her mouth, ‘daddy’?” Joel asks, making his voice higher to parody you when he says the last word.
Tommy seems to be lost in the process of eating you out and just hums. Joel takes it as a ‘yes’ and after grabbing your shoulders pulls you closer to the end of the table and to his cock.
“Open wide, tongue out,” he commands after taking a sip of the liquor and placing the glass on the table above your head. You watch his cock bob over your face and your mouth waters.
You do what he’s told you - open your mouth and stick your tongue out.
“Good girl,” Joel praises you while Tommy is making out with your cunt. You buck your hips into his mouth looking for an increase of pace but he’s meticulous and slow in pleasuring you.
Suddenly Joel slaps your cheek with his cock leaving a wet precum spot on your skin.
“Focus, angel,” he says as he rubs the tip against your lips. You chase it with your tongue and reach up but he takes your cheeks between his fingers and squeezes with a groan,
“Suck on my balls first, then I’ll see if you deserve my cock, little slut.”
You glare up at him but your anger subsides when Tommy’s fingers enter your wet hole. You feel the ache of a stretch so it must be two or three digits.
“Give some love to your uncle, babygirl,” Tommy says as he’s watching your cunt suck in his thick fingers.
“Yes, daddy,” you mewl and both men sneer at your obedience.
Joel manhandles your head under his cock and after cupping his sack places it in your open mouth. You lick and suck on his balls which are smooth and warm while Joel is stroking himself lazily. With a free hand he tugs down your neckline and starts playing with your breasts, twisting your nipples, kneading your flesh which adds to your pleasure.
You focus on one of his balls, suck and roll it gently with your tongue. You moan and hear Joel’s voice join you. The sound makes your pussy flutter around Tommy’s fingers and when you switch your attention to the other ball, your stepdad pushes on your soft spot a couple of times and ecstasy overtakes every cell of your body. Your cries are muffled by Joel’s balls lying heavy on your tongue.
“Fuck yeah, sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out as you’re clenching his fingers hard and then lowers his face to lick off your cum.
Joel takes his balls away and leans down watching your face twist with ecstasy.
“Just like that, angel. Good little slut.”
Your eyes lock before he leans lower and kisses you plunging his tongue into your mouth. The taste of whiskey and Joel invades all your senses and you answer his kiss hungrily grasping his shoulders.
You part from your step uncle when you hear Tommy’s voice and see him standing next to Joel now.
“Daddy’s turn, babygirl.”
Joel steps away grabbing his glass and emptying it in one go, his cock hard in his hand.
Tommy helps you to sit up on the edge of the table and lifts you up. You kiss him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He smells and tastes like you.
“Let’s take the slut to bed, Tommy,” Joel rasps and you feel his hand engulf the back of your head.
Tommy’s lips leave you and he looks into your eyes,
“Where do you want us to fuck you, sweetheart?”
“Your bedroom, please,” you purr with an innocent smile. You mean their bedroom on their marital bed and when he hears it, his upper lip twitches. For a second fear grips your heart when you think he’s disgusted with you, reminded of his brutal betrayal of his wife.
But in a flash his lips are caressing yours with vigor. His mouth slides to your neck and he harshly sucks in your skin there making you cry out.
“Fuckin’ dirty girl. Wanna be fucked in your mama’s bed, on her favourite sheets,” he growls into your neck and then heads to the stairs holding you in his arms.
***
When you three get into the master bedroom their hands are immediately all over you and you feel too hazy and drunk on endorphins to know who’s taking off your dress, whose lips are sucking hickies into your neck. Soon Tommy and you are sitting naked on the foot of the bed as you’re straddling him. The nightstand lamps are illuminating your bodies with dim and soft light. He’s kissing you gently as his cock nests between your bodies and you’re slowly grinding your soaked pussy against it.
Suddenly you feel a big hand wrap around the base of your throat and move up to your jaw applying pressure and tilting your head up. You don’t fight it and look up seeing Joel’s face hovering over yours.
“Are you gonna be good for us, baby?” He asks, staring into your eyes.
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but takes your chin between his fingers and opens your mouth. You widen your eyes in confusion until he leans down and spits in your mouth. You moan as the warm liquid slides down your tongue and into your throat and you swallow it. Joel hums approvingly and bends down to kiss you. It’s more gentle than the first time. Joel’s lips muffle your whimper when Tommy takes your breast in his mouth and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You cry out when he nips at the bud and part from Joel.
“Don’t be jealous, daddy,” you whine looking at your stepdad whose fingers are digging into your hips.
Joel sits on the bed next to Tommy, also naked and your eyes dart between the brothers.
They’re both gorgeous - wide shoulders, broad chests, golden skin. Tommy is thinner than Joel and his cock is not as big but their members are longer than anything you’ve taken so far. A little part of you is worried but you’ve wanted it for so long and you’re fully ready to be ruined by them.
“Daddy, uncle, please fuck me,” you plead pouting your lips.
“Her pussy is mine,” Tommy says as his fiery eyes land on Joel and then you.
“I can fuck her ass, no problem. For me. But it can be a big one for her,” he smirks and slaps your ass cheek. “Is your ass ready for uncle Joel’s visit?”
You can’t wait to be fucked so you silently get off Tommy’s lap, kneel on the bed between the men and lay down between them, sticking your ass up in the air.
“I’m not sure. Can you check?” You purr wiggling your butt and you hear Joel groan while Tommy curses.
You rest your cheek on your hand bringing the other to your ass and pull on the flesh showing off your holes to the men.
“Good little whore,” Joel praises you rubbing your ass cheek, “Do you think she’s ever taken it up her ass?”
“For her own good I hope she has, or you’ll rip her apart,” Tommy replies and the brothers laugh as your core tightens from hearing them talk about you as if you’re not in the room.
“Aw, angel, look at your pussy winking at us. Fear turns you on, huh? Good to know…dirty slut.”
You feel him spit on your tight hole and then he pushes the tip of his finger into you. You clench around it with a mewl and he slaps your ass not too hard but enough to leave a mark, “Relax, baby, need to get this ass ready.”
He tries again and inserts his digit up to the top knuckle.
While Joel is opening your asshole up like a Christmas present, Tommy climbs up the bed and rests his back against the headboard. He positions you so you’re between his legs. His cock is in his hand right in front of your face and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself on your elbows and lick a wet stripe along the underside of his length. His soft salty skin makes you salivate and you take his tip in your drooling mouth sucking on it and licking the slit. You moan swallowing his precum while Joel pushes his finger to the last knuckle and begins stretching you for his cock.
“Love the taste, sweetheart?” Tommy mumbles, closing his eyes for a second and bucking his hips up to get deeper into your hot mouth.
You start bobbing your head up and down while your hand is jerking your stepdad’s shaft as your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. Tommy's cock in your mouth feels like it belongs there and you give all of yourself blowing him until he holds your head between his hands stopping you.
“Hey, hey, babygirl, you’ll make me come like that… wanna fill up your pussy.”
You take his cock out of your mouth begrudgingly and rest your head on his inner thigh still gripping his cock.
“If you don’t fuck me soon, daddy, I’ll lick your balls and make you come all over your stomach,” you purr with a naughty smile but cold eyes, getting impatient. Tommy looks up at the ceiling, mumbling curses under his breath.
“Is she ready?” He asks Joel with a shaky voice and you hear his older brother hum as his finger leaves your asshole. You feel looser and miss Joel stuffing your tight ring.
“Get on the side, you two. I ain’t kneeling,” he roars.
Tommy manhandles you on his lap and scoots up to the edge of the bed holding you close. Joel stands behind your back.
“Maybe we can get you a cuck chair, old man?” You giggle getting comfortable straddling Tommy when suddenly Joel grabs your throat and pulls you up on your knees, your back pressed tightly to his chest.
His lips brush the shell of your ear as he hisses leaning down, “I’m about to fuck your ass, stupid slut, getting on my nerves ain’t the best idea.”
“Joel,” Tommy's voice is worried, “she’s kidding.”
To reassure your stepdad you moan and snake your hand around Joel’s neck grabbing his hair and pulling him closer.
“Don’t worry, daddy, uncle Joel and I are just playing.”
Joel growls and pushes you on Tommy’s chest.
“Plug her sloppy hole, brother, then I’ll wreck her ass. Got lube?”
Tommy nods his head at the nightstand.
You hear Joel shuffle stuff around in the drawer and then he jiggles a lube bottle in front of your face.
“Half empty, angel, your mom’s either as dry as her turkey or she loves it up her butt,” he chuckles.
“I fucking hate you,” you grunt through gritted teeth as jealousy burns your insides.
Tommy kisses the corner of your mouth trying to calm you down and then grabs your hip with one hand to guide you while the other holds his weeping cock at your wet hole.
You immediately pierce yourself on his member in one swift move moaning together with him. You feel full to the brim as your folds part for his girth and your walls snugly envelope his hardness.
“Holy fuck, babygirl, you’re tight”, he breathes out.
“My pussy is just for you, Tommy,” you whisper in his ear, tilting your hips and pushing your ass out hoping Joel will get the hint.
The older brother accepts your invitation right away and drops a generous amount of lube on the spot just above your asshole. You flinch feeling the cold liquid slide down to your tight ring and then your pussy stretched around Tommy’s cock.
Joel’s hand grips your shoulder for leverage while his fat lubed up tip presses to your asshole. The nerves churn in your stomach and your nails dig into your stepdad’s shoulders as you breathe deeply trying to calm down and relax your muscles.
Joel pushes the head into you making you half gasp-half moan as he stretches you. It aches just a bit as you’ve been wearing a butt plug in preparation for the night but you furrow your brows and open your mouth acting like an anal virgin for your unaware stepdad. ‘You’re his innocent stepdaughter’ after all.
“Daddy, he’s so big,” you whine, biting your lip and looking into his eyes.
“‘s right, angel,” Joel smirks behind you.
“Wanna stop?” Tommy asks, his voice concerned but you shake your head. No way you want to stop this!
“No, just hold me, please,” you plead and Tommy hugs you tightly, his arms over yours as you nuzzle the crease of his neck.
In this position, resting on your stepdad’s chest, your ass is sticking out perfectly for Joel who pushes his slicked hardness into you slowly while Tommy is rubbing your back whispering ‘good girl’s into your hair.
You mewl when Joel bottoms out with a growl hitting your pussy with his heavy balls.
Being completely full with the brothers’ cocks you whimper loudly when you sit up a little and feel them move inside you.
“Oh fuck, you’re both so big.”
“Move babygirl, you’ll get used to it.”
You hear Tommy’s words and grind your hips back and forth and all three of you moan in unison.
“Fuck, angel. Unclench your ass, you gonna make me cum too soon.” Joel groans and you take a deep breath trying to subside your excitement.
“Please move,” you mewl breathing deeply and they start slowly fucking you.
You’d never tell him but you’re grateful to Joel for going at it at a slow pace as your plug had nothing on the man’s girth and you feel the dull pain of the stretch as he’s pushing his cock in and out.
Tommy notices your pained expression and cups your cheek before giving you a passionate kiss. His cock twitches inside you as he’s thrusting up into your pussy with deep and slow strokes.
“You’re doing so good for us, babygirl,” he whispers as your lips brush. His hand kneads your breast, thumb and forefinger twitch your nipple as the other slithers down to your mound. He finds your hardened clit and starts rubbing it with two fingers.
Joel is panting and huffing behind you fucking your tight ass. He takes a hold of your throat and squeezes getting your attention.
“Imma fuck you hard now, slut. Ready or not.”
Tommy starts objecting but you want nothing more right now than to be ruined by their cocks.
“Yes, uncle Joel…Fuck me... Daddy please… my holes are yours.”
Joel immediately increases the pace at which his hips slap against your ass pushing his member into your asshole.
Tommy whines at your words and braces his hand on the bed before he starts power fucking your dripping cunt.
Your brain completely shuts down as your holes are being wrecked by your step uncle and stepdad. Your nails scratch Tommy’s shoulders as your core tightens, pussy and asshole clench around their fat cocks and your eyes roll back as your orgasm approaches fast.
“I told you this slut wanted it, huh?! Her holes were made for our dicks, brother. Look at her cock dumb face!” You hear Joel’s triumphant speech and see him slap Tommy’s shoulder. “Proud of you brother. You took what you wanted!”
Your stepdad smiles and looks at you with dark eyes. Joel leans over your shoulder, grabs your chin and turns your head to face him.
“You’re our fuck toy now, got it, angel? We gonna fill you up so good your belly will bloat. And we’ll do it again cos it’s all you’re good for… being fucked and suck our dicks and balls,” he growls as they’re pushing their cocks in and out. “Say it, “I’m your fuck toy, uncle�� he commands shaking your head.
“I’m your fuck toy, uncle,” you repeat obediently as your eyes well up with tears. You’re moved by the immense pleasure coursing through your veins and your climax hits as you cry and moan squeezing their cocks. Tommy grabs a hold of your shaking body as you squirt and drown his member. Squelching sounds fill the room and the extra wetness sends Tommy over the edge as he shoots his cum deep into your womb.
Joel is still holding your jaw, then he curses and crashes his mouth on yours. His kiss is brutal, dominant and overwhelming, plush lips abusing yours, tongue licking into your mouth.
It takes a few strokes before he begins filling your ass with his warm seed. He parts from you moaning and your heart sings hearing them both omitting the sounds of pleasure because of you.
When they stop moving inside your body, you fall on Tommy’s chest and he holds you through the aftershocks, still buried deep inside your pussy.
Joel pulls his cock out and slaps your ass before plopping across the bed next to Tommy and you.
Tommy kisses your cheek panting and falls on his back next to Joel.
They’re looking up at you, eyes roaming your body, glistening with sweat, and smiling, Tommy with affection and Joel with his usual wolfish grin.
You must look spent and fucked out and your stepdad tells you to lay down. You get on the bed placing your head on the pillow and Tommy goes to the bathroom for a wet towel.
Joel turns on his side bracing his head on his hand, semi hard cock resting on his thigh, and watches you for a few moments before speaking,
“Show me.”
“What?”
“How good we filled your holes”.
You smirk at him and bend your legs pressing the knees to your chest. Joel scoots up closer to you and glides his middle finger against your asshole and up to your entrance and then clit making you flinch at the overstimulation.
“Squeeze it out,” he commands, opening your thighs wider.
Tommy comes back just in time to see your pussy contract and push out his cum and his cock twitches. It slides down to your asshole as Joel’s spend trickles out as well. Joel mixes the liquids with his thumb and then sits up to feed them to you. Tommy gets on the bed and watches you lick Joel’s finger clean off their warm cum.
When you’re done Tommy gently cleans you up with the wet towel while Joel gets up to light a cigarette and then lies down next to you smoking.
Tommy throws the towel away and joins you two. He turns your head and you make out for some time while Joel’s filling the room with smoke. You know Jess is going to be livid and smile internally.
Tommy parts from you and looks into your eyes, “delete the recording, babygirl, you don’t need it. This pussy is mine now”, he whispers against your lips as his hand cups your heated center. “We’ll make it work.”
You swallow loudly and look at Joel who’s watching you two like a hawk. His eyes are cold and intent. He shifts his jaw, then takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke in your face.
You turn away feeling your eyes sting and look up at the ceiling.
What the fuck are you going to do now?
*****
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seijorhi · 16 days
Text
Oleander
Oikawa Tooru x female reader x Iwaizumi Hajime w.c 8.6k tw: yandere, mentions of child abuse and neglect, references to underage kissing, murder, horror themes, pseudo-cest (foster siblings), blanket dub/non-con vibes for a good portion of this
The patisserie smells of sugar, vanilla and freshly baked croissants. In a word; delicious. 
For several minutes now, your brother’s been standing bent at the waist, studying the display case stacked full of cakes and desserts with an intense kind of focus. Considering. Deliberating. Inadvertently placing himself, and by extension you, as an obstacle for other people trying to do the same. 
“Alright, the crepe cake or the fancy looking chocolate one, the…” Heisuke squints at the display case, trying to decipher the label, “gateaux? Or should we go for the red one with the strawberry mousse thing?”
Bingo. You hold back a smile. 
“Go the strawberry one.” Nobody loves strawberries like your mom loves strawberries. 
“Ok, great. We’ll grab that, a bottle of nice wine, hit the florist and I think that should do it.” He nods to himself, satisfied. “She’ll be over the moon.”
He’s not wrong. The woman you’ve called a mother for the past ten years would fall over herself for something as simple as a birthday card, regardless of the fact that your dad insists on going all out every year. 
“She’s already over the moon; you’re home for the week.” The admission’s soft, hesitant – poking a little too close to an open wound for you to feel entirely comfortable voicing it. Hei gives you an odd look, but it mellows into something more genuine when he realises you’re not taking a stab at him. 
Baby steps. 
Finally, Heisuke steps up to the counter to order. Within minutes the cake’s boxed up, with little ice-packs slipped in to keep it cool, and paid for, and the two of you head out, you holding the door open for Hei to carefully maneuver his way out without jostling the precious, expensive cargo. 
“You’re good at this stuff, y’know,” he says as the two of you fall into step together. 
“At… picking cakes?”
He snorts, “No. I meant the whole… I don’t know. You’re good at remembering stuff, the cakes mom likes, dad’s weird habits. You probably already know what flowers we’re going to pick for her, don’t you?”
This time you don’t bother hiding your smile – peonies, pink ones. 
You go to tell him as much when a loud voice calls out your name. On instinct, you both spin to the source, and when you meet those piercing, olive green eyes, bearing down at you from the other side of the street, your heart leaps into your throat.
A ghost.
You can’t breathe. For a moment you can’t even think. Your hand stretches out, blindly seeking Heisuke, an anchor, anything–
Before your fingers can brush his sleeve, a hard, lean body collides with yours, sweeping you up into a crushing hug. Not Iwaizumi, though. 
Oikawa, taller, broader than the last time you saw him, smelling of citrus, summer and salt lets out a breathy noise, halfway between amazement and disbelief. 
“There you are,” he beams, setting you back on unsteady legs. 
Found you, the glint in his eyes seems to say. 
Rather than let you go, step back and give you some much needed space to breathe, his palm instead slides to rest on your hip, taking your chin between the index finger and thumb of his other hand in order to look at you properly, dark eyes poring over you for signs of anything amiss – bruises, tear-tracks, red eyes, swollen, split lips. 
Your mouth goes dry. 
On one side, there’s your brother, bewildered, arm half outstretched as if he can’t make his mind up whether he should be intervening or not. Iwa’s already jogging across the street, snarling at a driver who lays on his horn. 
The weight of Oikawa’s appraisal is as familiar to you as it is oppressive, and while his touch is delicate, featherlight, it burns to the marrow. Suddenly you’re fourteen again, trying to duck past him before he can notice the state of you.  
‘It’s nothing, Tooru, don’t worry about it!’ 
And just like back then, there’s a knot in your chest that doesn’t loosen until satisfaction melts the too sharp edge to his grin – right as Iwa joins you two. Three, you suppose, because while Heisuke remains in stunned silence, eyes darting between you and Oikawa, he’s still party to this, still a witness, and the thought makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. 
(You shove down the fleeting rush of warmth at the relief you find there, the voice in your head that coos that he still cares enough to check. You don’t want him to care.)
“Holy fuck,” Iwa laughs, and Oikawa’s shoved aside, both of you ignoring the indignant grumbling as your rigid body’s pulled into his chest, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. He breathes in slow. Deep.
He still smells the same, earthy and masculine, the faintest tinge of his last cigarette still clinging to his jacket. Back then, he used to steal them from your foster father. You imagine that now, he probably has the money to go off and buy his own. 
“I’m sorry, who are you? What– can you let her go, please?” 
If it wasn’t them, the sheer absurdity of the moment might’ve made you giggle. Heisuke’s ears are bright red, a flush that extends down his neck. He doesn’t look angry per se, uncomfortable, absolutely, but from the pinched expression on his face, it’s clear he’s fighting the urge to bite out something far less polite. 
None of this, least of all the way they’re tugging you between them like a rag-doll, feels very polite to begin with.
As it is, Heisuke’s interruption has the intended effect. The fingers wound in your hair twitch, the cage of his arms drawing you closer. You almost expect the baring of teeth, a possessive snarl, yet it’s a small, almost imperceptible thing. He retreats – reluctantly – turning to glance at your brother, Oikawa by his side.
Judging from the stony, almost bored expression he levels at Hei, he’s not impressed.
“Friend of yours, imouto?” Oikawa’s purr skitters down your spine like ice. Unlike Iwa, there’s nothing less than friendly curiosity on the surface. He’s even smiling. 
Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you find your voice. 
“Hei, this is Iwaizumi and Oikawa,” you say, gesturing at each respectively. “We were in the same foster home for a while.” Sparing the two of them half a glance, you continue, “We’re actually right in the middle of something, if you’ll excuse us.”
The explicit dismissal’s bolder than you feel, but you’re proud that your voice doesn’t waver. You can’t say the same for your hand when you reach for Heisuke’s spare one, uttering the words that’ll only damn you further, “C’mon, nii-san. Mom and dad are waiting.”
Heisuke doesn’t blink. His hand slips into yours, the two of you sidestepping the pair and walking off towards the car without a backwards glance. 
Neither one of you speaks until you’re buckled into the passenger seat, Heisuke adjusting the rear-view mirror, the cake safely stashed away in the back. Until you’re pulling out onto the main road and there’s distance between you and them.
If only the gnawing, unsettling feeling in your stomach would go with it.
“Sorry,” you mumble, blankly staring out the window at the passing scenery. At the clouds hanging overhead, dark and threatening. Funny, that. Fitting. The skies were clear when you left home this morning. “About the nii-san thing, and grabbing your hand,” you clarify, because whether it was rude or not, you’ll be damned before you apologise for brushing them off. 
That’s not your relationship with Hei. It’s never been that. 
He eyes you for a beat. “You know, I never understood why mom wanted to adopt so bad. Dad too, but mom was always the one pushing for it. We were happy, the three of us. I wasn’t a screw up, their marriage was solid. I couldn’t understand the need to bring someone else in. Our family was fine, perfect the way it was.”
His thumb taps against the steering wheel, his shoulders loose and relaxed. You can’t quite pin the mood he’s in, where he’s going with this. 
“Oh,” you say, mostly because it feels like he’s waiting for you to acknowledge it. 
None of what he’s saying is news to you. None of it’s anything you haven’t wondered yourself a thousand times over. It’s just that Heisuke… you’ve never talked about this. Your adoption, your relationship with him, none of it. This sort of honesty is brand new territory for you both. 
You’re not so sure you’re loving the development. 
“When they committed to it, I thought they’d bring home a baby, a kid, not some weird, skittish fourteen year old who wanted nothing to do with me.” 
Ah.
Your cheeks heat, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here. If Heisuke notices how you shift in your seat, the small tightening of your expression, he plows on regardless.
“You wouldn’t look at me, would barely talk to me. Hell, you acted like I had the plague most of the time. You didn’t hate me, I don’t think, you just… didn’t want to be anywhere near me, and it bugged the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out; who wouldn’t want an older brother to look out for them?” His next words hit you like a sledgehammer, cracking at something vital in your chest. It hurts before he opens his mouth.
“It was them, wasn’t it? The reason you steered clear ‘til I moved out of home.”
“Heis–”
He cuts you off with a look. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he demands. 
“Can we just– it doesn’t matter, alright? Can we move on?”
From the unhappy set of his jaw – the first true sign of discontent he’s expressed since getting in the car with you – it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. You can’t blame him for that, curiosity’s only human. 
But you’re still too raw. It’s too soon.
You’ve spent too long burying those secrets deep to rip yourself apart to bring them to light. 
“Please, Hei. Let’s focus on mom’s birthday.” You force a smile, tiny and wrong, “The florist is next, yeah?” 
You get a grunt of acknowledgement and not much more than that, your brother’s attention pulling back to the drive. The silence that settles in the car should bring some relief. It’s what you wanted, and yet, amongst the churning feeling in your guts, the prickling at the back of your neck that hasn’t left you since you first spotted Iwa across the road, there’s a sense of discomfort that has nothing to do with crossing paths with your past life. 
Like a slap in the face, it hits you that you’re floundering for something to say, something – anything – to bridge the sudden, stark divide between you. Something that won’t sound hollow and meaningless. 
This thing you have with Heisuke. It took years, and maybe it’s skin deep and miles from what it should be, but the thought of losing it leaves you feeling oddly panicked.
It’ll… hurt.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, because it’s about all you can give him right now, a tried and true method of soothing egos and hurt. 
Heisuke doesn’t say anything for the remainder of the drive, and you resign yourself to the very real possibility that in the course of a single conversation, you’ve managed to fracture this fragile thing between you two. 
Until you go for the door, and a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hey. I’m glad they did.”
When you startle awake a little after midnight, it’s because he’s yelling again. 
Mr. Furukawa had been in fine form at dinner, already three beers deep. You can only begin to imagine what’s set him off now, hours after lights out. His wife, probably. Although it’s equally possible he’s caught the oldest sneaking back in from seeing his girlfriend, or the twins trying to break into the pantry for a midnight snack. Or he tripped and stubbed his toe, or thought someone stole the rest of his beer when in reality he’d already swallowed it down. 
The reasons don’t really matter when he’s been drinking like that, in the same way that the initial target of his ire doesn’t matter. Once his voice reaches that slurred, furious pitch, anyone’s fair game.
There’s a pair of headphones in the top drawer, you have every intention of yanking them out and putting on one of your sleep playlists, drowning out the noise of your foster father’s drunken raging until he wears himself out or you fall back to sleep when you hear the thumping of his feet on the staircase.
“Where’s that fucking bitch?”
Eyes wide in the darkness, clutching at the comforter, your pulse jumps.
Again, it’s possible he’s talking about Mrs. Furukawa, or one of your foster sisters – the older one hunched over in the bed opposite yours, watching you shrewdly.
“Well go on then,” she sneers. “Run to your big brothers.”
You don’t bother to respond, any hesitation you might’ve had over leaving her to fend for herself shrivelling up under the mocking bitterness she’s sending your way. Fine, whatever. You don’t care what she thinks, scrambling from the warmth of your bed and hurrying for the door.
He’s halfway up the staircase when you reach their room. You’d knock – it’s the polite thing to do – except you definitely don’t want to be out in plain view when your foster father hits the landing. 
“Hajime?” you whisper into the darkness, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you, “Tooru?”
“Shit, c’mere.” At Hajime’s voice, the calloused, rough hands that guide you onto his mattress, the vice around your chest loosens. He won’t come in here, not after Hajime socked him in the face after catching sight of the raised, discoloured flesh of your cheek from your last run in. You’ve gotten better at using make-up to conceal the marks since then, but there’s also been less of a need for it.
“Can I stay for a bit?” you ask. Until he calms down and passes out. Until the sun rises and you can sneak back into your room. Until you feel safe again. It’s kind of a pointless question, considering how many times you’ve done this before and how many times they’ve let you. You ask it anyway.
The scoff that sounds moments before the mattress dips on your other side is answer enough. “You should probably just move in at this point. We’ll kick Iwa out, he can go sleep in bitch-face’s room.”
Although you know you shouldn’t, a not-so-nice grin tugs at your lips, nestling into Tooru’s side under the arm he offers, “She’d drive him homicidal in a week.”
“Doesn’t she already?” Hajime mutters. “And fuck off, if anyone’s moving out it’s you.” 
“You’d miss me too much.”
Absentmindedly, he rubs at your arm like it’s second nature. “In your dreams, Shitty-kawa.”
You can still hear Mr. Furukawa stomping around outside, snarling and snapping at no-one and nothing. Your pulse skitters, an inbuilt panic response. But the lights are off, you’re not being too noisy, and he’s wary of the other two.
He won’t come in here. 
“Relax, we’ve got you,” Tooru breathes, his nose nudging at your temple. “Where were you this afternoon?” His voice is so soft, a soothing rumble that it takes you a second to register what he’s said. 
“This afternoon?”
“Mm. You didn’t come home when you were supposed to. We were worried.”
He’s pouting, you can tell. Which– he can’t be genuinely bothered by it, it was only a few hours, and the Furukawas don’t care where you are or what you do so long as you’re back before curfew. You were. 
A distraction then?
“I went out with some friends. We hung out at the arcade for a bit,” your expression brightens, thinking of the lights and the laughter, your feet blurring as you hit the sensors on Dance Dance Revolution… poorly. “It was actually pretty fun!”
Tooru hums again, “Which friends?” at the same time that Hajime says, “You didn’t tell us you were going out.”
“I didn’t realise I had to check in.” And because the slightly bitter and very defensive edge to your tone catches even you by surprise, you sigh, softening. “I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I? A social life?”
You’ve been in this home for a few months now, and this is the first time any of your classmates have invited you anywhere. 
This time it’s Tooru who sighs. He coaxes your face upwards with a hand on your cheek, peering through the dim light at you, “I’m not saying this to be cruel or hurt you, but… I need you to be more careful, okay?”
You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His thumb glides across your cheek bone, hesitating on whatever it is he wants to say– at least until Hajime huffs and mutters, “Just tell her, dude. You’re the one that brought it up.”
“Tell me what?”
“You’re a foster kid,” he reminds you, as if this is vital information that’s somehow slipped your mind. “That’s all they see when they look at us, all they’ll ever see. No money, no family, nothing worth wasting their time on. We’re charity cases at best, at worst…” he trails off, the sentence dangling in the air. 
He thinks it’s a trick, you realise. He thinks they’re setting you up in an elaborate joke where you’re the punchline. 
Bright blue eyes and a crooked grin flash in your head. Cheeks dusted pink and the warmth of his hand in yours. 
“That’s not true,” you defend, though the words sound weak even to your ears. 
Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the gentle, pitying expression on his face twists at your insides like a knife. You hardly notice Hajime scooching closer, shifting the blankets so they cover you both, too busy staring at your foster brother with wide eyes and parted lips, a thick lump of emotion lodging itself in your throat. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you blink them back.
You won’t cry in front of them over this. You refuse.
“No? You’ve been here for months now. If they wanted to be your friend, truly, genuinely wanted that, why haven’t they made an effort before now? I’m not trying to be a dick,” he murmurs when your breathing hitches, “The kids in this town, they’re assholes. I just can’t bear the thought of someone hurting you.”
Hajime nods. “We only wanna protect you, imouto.”
But you don’t need to be protected. Omori isn’t like that. His friends aren’t either. 
When the last bell rings for the day, you walk down to the gates to find Hajime there, leaning against the brickwork with a pilfered cigarette dangling between his fingers. 
That in and of itself isn’t a surprise. Lately they’ve taken up the habit of ditching their last period to make the half mile trek to your school in order to walk back home with you. Most days, you don’t mind. Today, however–
“I sent you a message at lunch, you didn’t need to come all the way down here, I’m going to a friend’s place to study. Sorry, I thought you would’ve seen it before you left.”
He drops the cherry red remnants of his cigarette to the ground and grinds the butt under his heel, eyeing you slowly from head to toe. “Which friend?”
“When did you become so nosey?” you laugh, a touch uneasily. “It’s only for an hour or so, I’ll be back before dinner, promise. I’m all yours after that.” The last part’s meant to lighten the mood a little, yet something flashes in his eyes, a twitch in his jaw, and you get the sense that he doesn’t find it all that funny. 
“Which friend? That slimy piece of shit you were hanging out with last weekend?”
Omori? How does he–
You frown, “We went to the movies, Hajime, it’s not illegal. And he’s not slimy or a little shit, he’s my friend.” A friend who sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes you weak at the knees, but Hajime doesn’t need to know that. 
“Oh, I’m sure he wants to be your friend,” he mutters darkly. 
Your cheeks burn hotly, “Why are you being like this? He’s a nice guy. Besides, it’s not him. I’m going to Masako’s to work on a group presentation we’ve got due in a few days. I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal out of it!”
“Your mistake,” he says, as if you’re the one being unreasonable here, and before you can spit out a retort, his hand is curled around your bicep, tugging you down the road. “C’mon, we’re going home. Tell your little friend you can work on your project tomorrow at lunch.” 
“Ha-Hajime!” His too tight grip on you doesn’t relent, his stride doesn’t falter. Nervously, you dart a glance around, half hoping that someone will intercede, all the while praying that no one’s actually noticed him dragging you off like a misbehaving toddler.
As always, you’re not that lucky. The sight of your classmates pointing your way, giggling behind their hands sends a hot pulse of shame flooding through you. 
“You know you’re not my actual brother, I don’t need your permission!” 
That does stop him, turning back around to throw a scowl at you, “No? Because I don’t see anyone else lining up to stop you from spreading your legs for the first asshole who comes sniffing around. Jesus Christ, weren’t you listening the other day?”
“I’m fourteen!” you shriek, ripping your arm away from him. “Stop being gross and leave me alone, I already told you I’m going to Masako’s. We have a project. For school!”
In an instant, he closes the gap between you. Hajime isn’t as tall as Tooru, but at two years older, he still towers over you, all broad shouldered and intense, and while he’s always cut an intimidating figure, it strikes you that this is the first time you’ve ever looked at him and felt afraid.
A split second later, and he exhales with a mumbled curse, the tension deflating from his body like a pin’s been pulled. In a quieter voice, hooking an arm over your neck to press a fleeting kiss to your hair, he says, “Sometimes it feels like I’m losing my damn mind trying to keep us all safe and sane and fucking together.”
It’s not exactly an apology. Still…you shift on your feet, nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for snapping,” you mumble – an olive branch, even if you’re not feeling particularly charitable right now. The problem is, you do understand where he’s coming from. In two years, they’ll both age out, free to go and do whatever the hell they want. There’s a not insignificant part of you that’s terrified that when that time comes, they’re not gonna hang around another two years waiting for you. 
You’re not sure you can hold them to that promise. 
And that’s if nothing happens before then. Foster kids in group homes get shuffled all the time, there’s no guarantee all three of you will still be with the Furukawas come their 18th birthdays. 
Of course he’s over-protective. Of course he’s being a little nuts about it. 
Hajime nods, pats you on the head and gives you a rare smile, “Good. Now get your ass moving, we gotta get home.”
“Wait, but I thought–” you’d apologised, he’d admitted he was overreacting… sort of. Isn’t that enough?
“Social worker’s coming by this afternoon. Furukawa wants us to play happy families ‘til they’re gone. Your friend’s gonna have to wait.”
And that’s that. 
Dejection washes over you, trudging back home with Hajime – trying not to be childish and petty and hold it against him.
The social worker never shows, but there’s a message waiting on your phone when you finally manage to pry yourself away from Hajime and Tooru.
Your brother’s a dick. Raincheck? ;)
Butterflies erupt. 
You’ve been biting your lip again.
The raw, chapped evidence stares back at you in the mirror. 
A few days ago, they were a little swollen, rough and reddened. The sight of it sent a giddy sort of thrill through you, a physical – if not sore – reminder of your afternoon spent kissing a cute boy with very pretty blue eyes. 
Now, the state of your lips is the least of your worries. You’ll bite your lips, gnaw on your fingernails right down to the quick, pace and think and pace and think, fingers tap, tap tapping at your side.
“You look tired.” 
The arms that loop around your shoulders, dragging you back into a loose hug don’t bring the sense of comfort they usually do. Things have been weird between you. Off.
Ever since Tooru caught sight of your face that day, saw the messages on your phone. 
‘I never took you for a liar, imouto.’
The resultant argument left you choking on sobs, heart-broken and beaten down in a way that you haven’t felt since you found out your parents died. 
It’s a strange, alienating thing to be cut so viciously by the only people who give a damn about you.
At first, you had Omori there to help pick up the pieces. He wasn’t allowed over, of course, and even if he were, you doubt it’d do anything but throw a whole gallon of kerosene on the fire. Still, being able to message and vent to him felt like a lifeline. 
And then he simply… stopped replying. Your last message sitting there for two days on read.
You tried not to feel hurt. Maybe this whole thing was too intense, too quick. My god, you weren’t even dating officially, he was just, you were–
It was fine. Not everyone’s tied to their phone, and he doesn’t owe you anything. Maybe something came up, maybe his phone died.
But then, come Monday, he wasn’t in school.
On Tuesday morning, sitting in first period maths, a grim-faced man in a dull suit informs your class that Omori’s been missing since Saturday morning. You’re passed a business card with the detective’s name and phone number printed in crisp, black font and encouraged to contact him if there’s anything you can think of that might help them.
Uneasy looks are shared. No one says a word.
Which brings you to today, to the hug Tooru’s drawn you into and his voice murmuring at your ear. 
“Aren’t you still mad at me?”
His laugh rumbles at your back, “Maybe I miss you too much.”
You should tell him to shove it. Whether you’re in the right or the wrong, it’s not fair of him to play hot and cold with you like this. Being at odds with your brothers is painful enough on its own, dealing with that on top of everything with Omori – it’s too much. You’ll drown under the weight of it.
And so you turn, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying yourself against him. “I don’t wanna fight anymore. I’m sorry.”
While he doesn’t say anything back, he does squeeze you that little bit tighter. You’re content with that, soaking up the affection and comfort you’ve sorely been without. It’s an apology, yes. It’s also forgiveness. 
“Where’s Hajime?” you ask after a little while. They aren’t inseparable by any means, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this afternoon at all. 
Rather than answering you, the brunet pulls back enough to meet your gaze, a twinkle in his eyes, “We’re going out tonight.”
The words bring you up short. “But–”
“Furukawa won’t know a thing. It’ll be fun, pinky promise.” He holds out said pinky, the grin on his face infectious enough that you offer a tiny one of your own, locking your finger around his.
He winks. 
“Sweetheart, shall we open the wine?”
She hasn’t stopped beaming all afternoon, delighted at the flowers and the gifts, your dad humming away in the kitchen, cooking enough to feed a small army.  
Heisuke’s already plucking a bottle from the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. He lifts a questioning brow in your direction and you nod with as much of a smile as you can muster. Nothing sounds more appealing to you right now than a drink.
Several of them, actually. You’ll start with one.
“Thanks,” you murmur when he passes it to you. 
Quietly enough that your parents won’t hear, he asks, “You good?”
“I’m good,” you reassure him, lying through your teeth. His knuckles knock against yours, and when you glance up, there’s a wordless promise that the two of you aren’t done with this. 
He’s been watching you ever since you got home. Not in the predatory, possessive way they used to, just… you very reluctantly gave him crumbs – not even that much – yet he’s staring at you like you’re a piece of a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you don’t know how to deal with it. 
It makes you nervous.
“Did something happen between you two?” The quiet voice at your side startles you – perhaps you’re more on edge than you’d like to admit, because your whole body flinches, the wine in your glass sloshing up over the rim, just barely avoiding your dress and the edge of the couch. 
You hadn’t even noticed your mom had sat down.
Cursing under your breath, you jump up before she can, snatching some paper towels from the kitchen, paying no mind the slight, disapproving tilt to your father’s mein (the one which, to his credit, he does try to hide) to mop up the mess on the floor.
“Sorry,” you throw out, both for the spill and for swearing, because that too is something neither of your parents are fond of, but your mom’s quick to wave it away.
“Nonsense. You’re fine, sweet girl. Come, sit!” She pats the seat you’ve vacated. “Relax.”
Your dad’s in the kitchen, laughing with Hei. Your mom’s still happy – it’s slowly leaching from her eyes the longer she looks at you, the more she sees. Relax. 
Today’s supposed to be a happy day.
Relax. 
You can’t.
They know some of your past. Bits and pieces. 
In ten years, you’ve never uttered a single word about them. Not to anyone. 
The more you shove it down, the more it fights back, bubbling away inside of you like the tempest of a storm. You can feel yourself cracking, unshed tears burning at your eyes. 
You can’t.
“… Mom–”
A knock cuts through the rising tide of emotion battering through you, and all four of you start. 
Your dad moves first, drying his hands and striding on over to answer it. On his way, he glances to where you and your mom are sitting – instinctively. Unthinkingly. He glances her way a thousand times a day – to check in, to see what she’s doing, to catch those little expressions she makes, only this time he isn’t met with the picture of a happy wife and daughter. You see it when it hits him, the tension, your wrought expression, the hand your mom’s slipped you in the seconds since, holding you tight and keeping you tethered.
You see it when he does a double take, sharp surprise quickly overtaken by alarm. 
Another knock at the door. Louder. 
His head snaps back towards the door, glaring at it like it’s personally wronged him. “One sec,” he mutters to no one in particular, and your mom squeezes your hand as he yanks it open with a touch more force than necessary.
“Yes?”
The air punches out of your lungs.
From where you’re sitting, the door cracked ajar, your dad’s frame blocking the gap, you can’t see who’s there. Not until he peeks over your dad’s shoulder, his charming grin widening into something shark-like and predatory when he spots you, delighted. 
An elevator careening out of control, your stomach plummets.
Ignoring your dad – your family as a whole – entirely, Oikawa addresses you. “You dropped this this morning. Clumsy girl.” 
Iwa passes him something, your wallet, you realise when he holds it out to you, waving it like a dog treat. 
Your wallet with your ID, this address, tucked away inside. 
The wallet you absolutely, in no way dropped. 
Primarily on instinct, shaking like a newborn foal, you start to rise, to stumble forward and take it from him, only it’s Heisuke who moves first. Angrier than you think you’ve ever seen him, he plants himself between you, one arm outstretched as if to keep you back, his withering gaze fixed on the duo.
“Thank you for returning it,” he bites out. “You can leave now.”
For your parents, already on edge, suspicious by their familiarity and your reaction to it, it’s enough to set their hackles up. Gone is any semblance of politeness when your father snatches your wallet from Oikawa’s fingers, “Go.”
Up until now, Oikawa’s paid them all the attention one would a gnat, an annoyance maybe, but one hardly worth acknowledging. That changes as his head tilts, dark eyes appraising your father. 
“What’s the rush?” he asks, reaching behind him. You can’t see it, what with your dad and now Heisuke standing between you, but there’s movement, your dad lets out a sudden, choked off gurgle, lurching back inside. 
Your eyes widen, a bone chilling horror taking hold of you as you spy the sleek black handle of a knife sticking out his gut, a slow stain of red seeping out around it. 
“We’ve still got so much catching up to do.”
You’ve never been this far into the woods before.
Stars glitter overhead, condensation from your breath puffing out with every exhale. It’s cold out. The path you’re walking isn’t one of the trails they lay for hikers and tourists, and you’ve been walking for a while. 
Still, Tooru’s hand is warm entwined with yours, and there’s that wicked thrill in your belly that comes from breaking the rules, doing secret, exciting things in the dead of night.
“Is Hajime waiting for us?” you ask, when you can hold the question back no longer.
“Always Hajime with you, isn’t it,” he teases. “Y’know, a guy could develop a complex with all this favouritism being thrown around.”
You’re pulled closer into his side even as he says it, and you go happily. You’ve got your brothers back – tonight you’re only thinking good thoughts. 
Tonight he promised you fun.
A giddy bounce in your step, you follow where your big brother leads until you spot a glow in the trees ahead, smell the smoke on the mid-autumn breeze.
Tooru grins in the dark, “Have you ever been to a bonfire?”
You shake your head. 
It takes another few minutes before you can see the fire in all its grandeur, Hajime standing off to the side, warming his hands against the flames. They dance through the clearing, bright and high and hot, hot enough that you briefly consider shedding the jacket Tooru swaddled you up in before you left.
A bonfire? 
They built this for you?
You look incredulously to Tooru, “This is where he’s been all day?”
“More or less.”
“Do you like it, pretty girl?” Hajime calls out when you’re closer. Your hand slips from Tooru’s as you leap forward, allowing him to catch you in his arms and tug you against him, and like earlier with Tooru, it eases some of the hurt weighing you down. He’s here, he’s not angry anymore, you can fight and argue like siblings but they aren’t going anywhere. 
He presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your hair. “It’s pretty cool,” you tell him with a decisive nod, making him chuckle. 
“Maybe we should add more accelerant,” Tooru says, eyeing the flames with a considering look. “I don’t know if it’s hot enough.”
Hajime scoffs, “We don’t need any more accelerant.”
“But–”
“It’s fine, dumbass. Leave it.”
Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Tooru takes the space on your other side. In the Western movies you’ve seen, these bonfire things usually have more of a party-like vibe. There’s music and dancing. Drinking. This is something wholly different.
You don’t mind the quiet, though, sitting between your brothers on the fallen log they dragged over. Listening to the crackle of the fire. Watching red embers spark and fly off into the night. 
You’ve missed this. Them. 
In the hypnosis of the fire, the heat that covers you like a blanket – burning strongly enough, despite what Tooru thinks, that down to a tee-shirt, leaning into Hajime’s side, Tooru playing with your fingers, you feel you could so easily drift off to sleep, sated and content.
“You love us, don’t you?” Tooru says it so quietly, so off-handedly, that for a moment you don’t hear the stinging accusation beneath the words. 
When it does, whatever fleeting contentment you’d managed to wrap yourself up in is ripped away, leaving you cold and exposed. 
A slap in the face might’ve stung less.
You gape at him. At the both of them. “How can you ask me that?”
Tooru shrugs, casual and cruel, “I dunno. You lied to us. Multiple times.”
“Snuck around behind our backs,” Hajime adds.
“Kept things from us. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the new lock on your phone, imouto. Doesn’t sound like love to me.”
“I– I’ve already apologised.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but with every word that pours out of you, the faster your heart beats and the more distress leaks into your tone. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I went behind your backs, I’m sorry I kissed him! I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know how to fix this!” 
Hot tears spring to your eyes, stinging as you ferociously blink them back. 
If you start crying now, they’ll probably just mock you. That, or they’ll claim that you’re trying to manipulate them into feeling bad with crocodile tears and hiccuping sniffles. 
In a tiny voice, you say, “I didn’t do any of it to hurt you. Please,” you beg helplessly. “You can’t keep holding it over my head and punishing me for it.”
“You think we’re punishing you?” Tooru asks, still in that cold, flat tone that makes you want to sob.
Aren’t they? Sure feels like it.
Hajime lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and staring up at the night sky. “You still don’t fucking get it.” 
Hands slip under your armpits and without warning you find yourself hoisted onto Tooru’s lap. It’s whiplash, especially when he curls around you, those lithe arms caging you in, and presses a kiss to your burning cheek. “Iwa, brute that he is, is right. You’re not listening to us. This isn’t punishment. You can pretend to hate us, cry, yell, fight. You can try to shut us out if that’s what you feel you need, but this,” his chin juts out at the bonfire crackling merrily a few feet away, “this is love.” He shivers as he says it, voice like honey. “We did it for you, and I’d do so much more.”
Your head’s still spinning, reeling from being yanked from one extreme to another. Hot and cold. Spiteful to affectionate. You stare at the fire, but you don’t understand. 
“Yeah, like you didn’t enjoy the hell out of it,” Hajime snorts, which makes even less sense.
“…You mean the– the bonfire?”
Tooru laughs. His nose skims along the shell of your ear, earning him a shiver of your own. “Hm, almost.”
So you peer at the fire like it’s supposed to give you the answers you need. There’s nothing. It’s a fire, there’s nothing special about…
Oh.
You learn forward – as much as the cage of his embrace will allow, at any rate – squinting a little. Nestled beneath the stacked logs and kindling, there’s an oddly shaped lump, black and gnarled, with ridges and a scooped out hollow that kinda looks like–
Your blood runs cold. 
“What’s the matter, baby?” he croons. “You’ve been so sad all week, wondering where your friend up and disappeared to. Aren’t you glad to see him again?”
“No.” Whisper soft, the noise lost to the crackling of the fire. You shake your head, “This– you’re being cruel. Stop it, it’s not funny.” 
But the tears you’ve so valiantly held back are falling, your breath coming in short, panicky gasps. The skull in the fire doesn’t look fake, and if this is a prank, it’s gone beyond too far.
Your head grows light and all too heavy at the same time, “That isn’t– you didn’t– you… you– you wouldn’t–”
“No?” the voice at your ear questions, low and dangerous. “You think I wouldn’t stab the little fuck after you kissed him?”
“Stop it,” you tearfully beg, squeezing your eyes shut. The skull’s still there, burned into the back of your eyelids. 
No, no, no. Omori isn’t dead. 
Omori isn’t dead.
Your heart slams against your ribs, a violent chorus to the swell of sick dread and fear you’re desperately trying to tamp down. Omori isn’t dead!
“STOP IT!” 
They wouldn’t kill him. 
The crunch of footsteps sounds, and you don’t need your vision to know that Hajime’s now crouching in front of you. When rough fingers seize your jaw, holding you in place, and he leans in close, almost nose to nose, they fly open regardless. 
“You ever try that shit again, and next time we’ll drag you by the fucking hair and do it in front of you,” he promises, calm despite the fury that rages in his eyes. 
Caged between them, Hajime appraises you, taking in your hysteria, the tears dripping down your face, your bottom lip quivering – as though he’s committing the sight to memory. His eyes dart to Tooru’s for a brief second, the latter squeezing your side, before he speaks. “If you’d listened to us in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t make us into monsters, sweetheart.”
Your fault is what you hear. 
There’s a loud pop from the fire, and you lose it entirely. 
You explode. Elbows flying, kicking, clawing. A wild, terrified, desperate thing, and it takes them by surprise – enough to catch Tooru in the gut, loosening his grip. Enough to knock Hajime back onto his ass. A gap, however small, for you to scramble to your knees, violently kicking back when a hand snatches at your ankle, and flee through the woods in the dark, away from the furious shouts, the raging footsteps chasing after you. 
You run and your lungs burn, heaving for every breath. 
The light of the bonfire disappears behind you, plunging the forest into an inky black, and the shouts and yells turn into calls of your name, then coaxing pleas, almost sounding worried. Eventually, those grow distant too, and fade away altogether. 
You keep running, uncertain of where you’re going. No, blind to it entirely. All that matters is keeping out of their reach. You’ll run to the ends of the earth if you have to. 
And so you push until your legs scream for a reprieve, until you taste iron on your tongue and when your body can keep the pace no longer, you stumble through the underbrush, tripping over roots and branches instead, pausing every once in a while to lean against a tree and catch your breath. 
As your adrenaline fades and the sweat dampening your clothes cools, the cold night air bites like needles at your skin, you start to shiver, rubbing at your exposed arms in an effort to generate a little warmth. Bitterly, you remember that the jacket that you’d brought, the one Tooru had all but forced on you before you’d left, is back at the bonfire, slung over a nearby log. Useless to you now. 
But the shivers that wrack your body aren’t solely from the dropping temperature.
Every snapping branch, hoot of an owl, rustle of leaves sends a fresh wave of terror spiking through you. You think of Tooru’s cruel smirk and Hajime’s bruising grip, of Omori’s skull staring back at you from the fire, flesh melted to the bone, black and twisted, and a ragged, distraught sob brings you to your knees.
Hopelessly lost, cold, frightened and alone, you curl into the dirt and cry. 
Hikers find you at dawn. 
Emergency services are called – an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital to be poked and prodded, police to question why a fourteen year old girl was wandering the woods alone at night.
They treat you for dehydration and mild hypothermia, a few small cuts and scrapes, and when a soft spoken nurse pulls the curtain around your bed and gently asks if you’d like them to perform a rape kit, you blanch and shake your head. Eventually, they allow the detective into the room. In his late forties, bespectacled, a smattering of grey dusted throughout his close cropped black hair, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and patiently asks how you’re feeling.
If you were a better person, you’d tell him everything. The Furukawas’ abuse, your foster brothers’ increasingly overprotective behaviour, sneaking behind their back to see Omori and the fight that followed that nearly ripped you apart. 
The bonfire.
Your fault, your fault, your fault.
Omori deserves that much. His parents should know what happened to their son.
Your jacket lying forgotten by his bones. 
“Please don’t take me back there,” you mumble, tears shining in your eyes. 
Back to the woods, or the Furukawas. Back to the boys you’d loved who’d murdered for you.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter that that’s all they can get out of you. A traumatised teenager found miles from home without a single soul raising the alarm would be one thing. When that traumatised teenager’s a girl supposedly under the care of government approved guardians, it raises red flags not even they can ignore.
By lunch, they’ve arranged for you to be placed back in an all-girl orphanage until a more suitable, long term solution can be found.
Some nights you dream that you’re back there, in their bedroom at the Furukawas’. It’s dark and cozy, there’s an arm slung over your waist and you find yourself drifting off to the steady beat of the heart behind you, soft snores by your ear.
They’re nice dreams. You feel safe, loved. 
Tucked away in your subconscious, nothing exists but the sanctuary of them, and when you inevitably feel that tug of awareness coaxing you awake, you sink your fingers in and cling to it for dear life. 
Just another minute. Another few seconds. Please.
Right now, you’d give anything to wake up and have this be nothing more than a nightmare you can banish. 
But there’s no escaping this one. Your dad’s on the living room floor by the couch, hunkered over, pale and sweaty, pressing what was once a clean dish towel to the wound in his stomach. The coffee table’s been pushed to the side, Heisuke and your mom sat on the chairs Oikawa dragged into its place, ankles zip-tied to the legs, wrists bound, duct tape slapped across both of their mouths. Between the knife Oikawa idly toys with, still wet with blood, the handgun held loosely in Iwa’s palm and your dad slowly bleeding out on the floor, they’ve been compliant. 
Much like you have, although you’re neither bound nor gagged, sitting in the armchair Iwa ushered you to, arms looped around your knees with the man himself perched against the backrest.
The only one of you making any kind of noise at all is your dad, his voice a slurring mumble, words near intelligible. He’s begging, you can tell that much. Pleading through gritted teeth for them to let you go, not to hurt you, your mom, Hei. 
You desperately wanna tell him to save his breath, but you can’t even look at him – at any of them – without wanting to throw up.
“Do you still love us, imouto?”
Your eyes track Oikawa as he leans over the two chairs, the edge of his knife carelessly poised above Heisuke’s shoulder. From your periphery you see him flinch and stiffen, the sharp uptick of his breath smothered by duct tape, but you don’t dare shift your attention from the brunet smiling genially back at you.
Your heart squeezes, clenched by an invisible fist. Buried deep beneath the guilt and the paralysing dread, a slightly hysterical part of you almost wants to laugh. 
“Do you think I could ever stop?” 
Surprise flashes in his eyes and his grin widens. “You ran,” he accuses.
“You ran again this morning,” Iwa adds, sounding far less amused.
“I was scared.”
“Of us?” Iwa slides off the back of the couch, straightening up. In an instant, his hand’s wrapped around your throat, the broad pad of his thumb forcing your jaw upwards. “You think we’d ever fucking hurt you?” he growls, looking genuinely angry. 
Distantly you register the sound of Heisuke’s muffled indignation, another gasping wheeze from your dad, but all that fades to the background as Iwa’s mouth crashes against yours.
He doesn’t kiss you sweetly. It’s invasive, rough. His hand flexes around your throat, forcing a gasp to drive his tongue between your lips, and you can feel every ounce of possession, of pent up need and frustration as he drags it on despite the awkward angle. 
When he does break away, eyes darkened and simmering, he holds your gaze, ignoring the pointed throat clearing from the other side of the room. “Never,” he swears, waiting for you to nod before finally relaxing his grip. “Good girl.” To Oikawa, watching you both with a barely constrained hunger, he says, “Enough screwing around. Do it and let’s go.”
Oikawa huffs, rolling his eyes, “Fine. Should’ve known you’d get all impatient after you had a taste.”
“Like you’re not?”
There’s not enough air in the room, your heart’s doing somersaults in your chest, your pulse hammering through your veins. Oikawa stares at you, head tilted, the corner of his lip slowly curling up as you start to tremble, shaking your head, tears beading at your lashes, “I guess we could hurry it along.”
“No, please–” 
“Shh, sweet girl. It’s okay.” You try to stand up, but Iwa takes a hold of your shoulder and forces you back down. “Me and Iwa, we were gonna give you a choice. Let you pick. If you could kill one of them, we’d let the other two go.”
A strangled sob rips its way free, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re not gonna make you do that,” he comforts, side-stepping your now thrashing brother to make his way over towards you. “Cause the thing is, they kept you from us. Lied to you. Manipulated you. Whether they meant to or not, they hurt you. I don’t think they deserve that kind of mercy, do you?”
“No, no, no, please! Please don’t, please don’t hurt them–”
Abandoning his knife, he drops to a crouch in front of you, “We’re gonna make it right, and then we’ll go home, okay? We’ll take care of it.”
“Please, Tooru! I’ll do anything!”
There’s a kiss pressed to the crown of your head, the cushion behind your back being tugged free. “You don’t need to do anything,” Iwa says, the cold cocking of his gun echoing like a death knell.
 “We love you. This one’s on us.”
490 notes · View notes
getodrools · 3 months
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𐙚 BETTER THAN HIM: MEGUMI FUSHIGURO!
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IN WHICH, step son! megumi looks too much like his father the longer he trains, and it seems like he does have a type after all…
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ milf! reader. step cest. aged-up characters. age gap: reader; 30s + meg; mid 20s. mommy kink-ish. creampie. infediality. quickie. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !
NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p
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fuck.
YOUR WEDDED HUSBAND SURE did have some nice genes… watching closely how your stepson walked around the house so mellow; head sulking but chest exposed and puffed out, stacked muscles relaxed but yet, so toned of quiet determination — of a growing man willing and able to put in daily effort to achieve such a hefty and big…
big goal.
and you couldn't help yourself either, the obvious liking to the fushiguro blood was clear. megumi just gave off that same gruff and manly feel your husband does, especially the longer he stayed at jujutsu tech.
it's been almost a decade. and you can most certainly tell it took its toll on him – all that hard work and scars of stories running along barred skin was catching. it reminded how you'd kiss at toji’s... megumi, just got more… raunchy the last time you've seen him is all.
yet, megumi just had something more to him.
he's a younger version of your husband — almost identically now, but of course, more fit and kept up with, more endurance, more stamina…
but not any less experienced.
and it seemed like megumi had a good taste in women just like his father too. always catching sneaky eyes wondering down your blouse whenever you were cleaning – catching how he would hug you a lot tighter when you wore little dresses — mainly to impress your husband but that tight squeeze at your sides and bright smile before muttering out how lucky his father is makes you feel…
special.
that special feeling sparked up once again soon as your husband went to go get more booze and lottery tickets; megumi was beginning to help around more often – lifting heavier things that needed to be moved for spring cleaning. you'd catch yourself imagining how much of a hard time your husband would have given you about that… but megumi made sure you didn't need to overstep yourself with simple things. wanting to be more of a help for you, his mother idle, an older fine woman — how sweet he was.
“my father doesn't deserve you.” words that finally pinned your feelings together, and it quickly lead to bumping and a few vases to fall.
“mom–my..!” tepid lips almost quivering in sync with the shake of his timbre voice dropping an octave.
his cock curves just like his father's – slightly to the right with a pretty flushed tip, heavy balls too, feeling them hit right against your puffy clit at each rough thrust. and at each barreling plunge of his cock stuffing you full, he forces a low rumble of swears on your tongue to echo in your bedroom; even clammy hands to twist harder into the sheets your husband was just sulking on.
your needy cunt squeezed down hard around the base of his jamming cock, feeling how eager he was to fill you up the second his tip kissed your sopping entrance, never leaving your needy hole.
“oh! gumii! like that-- yes!”
there was one big difference between the two men. megumi had the stamina and understanding to make you feel beyond pleasure; he knows when to go faster or harder with deeper strokes, or how he understands when your hands would reach for mercy only to keep pounding that one soft spot, knowing you're only chasing that needed high.
not toji though, toji fucked you silly. he fucked you on his cock ‘till he came. no actual tender care, only a pounding until his problems felt an inch better. of course, toji made your tummy rise, no doubt, but you've always desired more than just to be filled up and left for some booze.
megumi knows what you've been wanting, what you've been craving for.
the feeling of being young again. that feeling of being fucked like some groupie at a frat house, and it makes him smile even harder watching how desperate you were about it; watching those pretty hips roll back with every grind – wordless heavy breaths in his ear of how good he was making you feel.
of how much you love his cock.
the long strides made you speak tongue. babbling on how much he makes you feel, and your wet tongue that hangs out twists. panting out how much he wasn't like his father ‘till he popped a messy knot of spunk in you.
the front door swings open, and heavy feet trail off somewhere in another room.
“y/n! there's glass on the floor! clean it up.”
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<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE MEGUMI –>
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stepbro!luke thoughts // tw: nsfw, step-cest
He knows he should feel bad about jacking off with his sweet step-sisters panties but he can’t bring himself to care, not as he watches you trying to bring yourself to your peak through a crack in your bedroom door. It’s become sort of a trend for him, using your panties to get off as he sees you attempt to pleasure yourself. He has not getting caught down to a science but now…? He wants to get caught, or rather wants to catch you.
“Struggling with something?” He asks, leaning against the door frame.
“L-Luke! I um…” You stutter as you cover yourself. “You didn’t knock.”
“Maybe I sensed you were doing something naughty.” You blush bright red.
“And here I find you, playing with your little pussy.” He smirks.
“I wasn’t!” You try to protest, not wanting him to think badly of you.
“Well at least not successfully.” He murmurs as he approaches you. “If you wanted to know how to please yourself, then you could’ve asked your big brother to help.”
“But wouldn’t that be wrong?” You ask in a soft voice, looking at him with nervous eyes.
“Not if it makes you feel good.” He leans down onto your bed, his hands slipping under the covers and up your thigh.
“Let me teach you.”
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gojosprettyprincess · 3 months
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TW step-cest, please do not come into my inbox telling me how weird I am to be posting stuff like this, just ignore it if you don't like it, thank you
Thinking about...
Stepbrother Megumi and stepdad Toji taking turns stuffing your cunt with cum each night, it's like a competition between father and son on who ruins your cunt and fucks you dumb and stupid the most, whenever it's Megumi's turn the night after Toji, he's so rough and aggressive with you, gripping onto a fistful of your hair harshly as he slamming his thick cock into you from behind, Pounding your smart little brains out while cursing to himself and saying a bunch of shit on how his dad can never fuck you and ruin your poor little cunny as good as he does.
He pounds you with so much passion, ramming his cock into you so hard and harsh like he's trying to break you or something.
"Nobody can wreck this sloppy little pussy like I can princess, not even my fucking father, got that?, its alright if you don't, I'll just drill it into ya dumb little brain instead" His tone harsh and serious as he lands a hard slap on your ass cheek that's for sure gonna leave his hand print mark on your ass for days so Toji can see.
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khrtzu · 4 months
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‘STEPDAD CHAN HEADCANONS’
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PAIRING — stepdad!chan x fem!reader
GENRE — smut
SYNOPSIS — step daddy bang chan thoughts hehe
TW — step-cest, chans a perv, daddy kink (duh), and feetsies cause i couldnt help myself :)
NOTE — i hate this but stepdad chan gives me life ><
nav :3
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— STEPDAD BANG CHAN WHO adores you the absolute most. youre just his sweet baby always trailing behind him everywhere he goes. sitting at the kitchen island while he cooks breakfast in the morning. laying on his studio couch while he works, a smile creeps up on his face when you eventually fall asleep little snores falling from your plumped lips.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO tucks you into bed after you fall asleep in his studio. sending you to bed with a light kiss to your forehead and a whisper of “goodnight babygirl.”
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO has too sneak to the bathroom after tucking you in because the visual of your innocent sleeping figure gets him so hard. his tee shirt is stuffed between his teeth as he strokes his angry cock to the thought you.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO gives you foot messages when you come to him all stressed from work and uni. handling you so gently, his thumbs pressing deep into the souls of your sore feet soothing the ache that lives there. all while thinking about your cute painted toes and what they would feel like stroking his cock. suddenly feeling his pants tighten drastically and excusing himself with a cough and a “i should get back to work”.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO when you bring guy friends to the house gets so so jealous. constantly sending them a glare when youre not looking in his direction. asking to talk to you when they leave saying “he seems like bad news.” and shushs you when you try and argue with him “i dont want him at the house again.” getting up from the couch in the living room leaving you with no room to say anything back. he should be the only man in your life anyways.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO finally gives in and steals a pair of your underwear. walking into the laundry room and seeing your basket full with dirty clothes ready to be washed. on top of the pile a pretty pair of pink panties with a small bow in the front lays and he just cant help himself, its to tempting. quickly swiping them and putting them in his pants pocket and rushing to his room locking the door behind him.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO as soon as that door locks hes taking your panties to his nose and taking a deep breath of your essence, letting out a groan at the scent. his hand flying to his cock palming himself over his sweats before pulling them down just enough to get his hardened cock out. spitting on his palm before stroking his cock, squeezing tightly when he gets to the tip making himself whine, smelling your panties as he jerks himself off. cumming with a loud whimper his load all over the floor and his own hand. he swears hes never cum faster. he tucks ur panties deep in his boxer drawer.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO starts wearing tank tops around the house to see if you notice. flexing his muscles while doing the most mundane tasks. grabbing you a glass of water, washing the dishes, literally just sitting on the couch flexing his biceps trying not to make it obvious. a smirk growing on his face when he catches you looking at his arms and chest.
— STEPDAD CHAN WHO is trying to stay calm while you tell him about the weird tingling feeling between your legs that same night in his studio. “daddy?” the sound of your voice snapping him out of his thoughts. youre sitting on his lap currently looking at him with big round eyes and brows furrowed in confusion. “uh well does it hurt babygirl?” maybe its not what he thinks it is… maybe theres something wrong. “no..” you mutter quietly, but he hears you.
“just feels weird.” you continue. ‘your mom is working a late shift tonight…’ he thinks to himself. “let me have a look.” he says going to pull your mini skirt up so he can ‘have a look’. stopping when your fingers wrap around his wrist looking at him with wide eyes. “wait my… down there?” you say shyly your cheeks burning a hot shade of pink. so cute. “well i have to make sure everythings okay.” he says tone as gentle as ever. your hand loosens from his wrist and you give him a small nod. he flips up your skirt immediately being met by your soaked panties.
“babygirl, what were you thinking about that made you like this.” god he hopes its him. “i like that shirt your wearing today. it looks so good on you.” he has to hold back a moan at that. “let me help you baby.” his voice coated with pure lust. his eyes lifting from your core to meet your eyes as you nod at him.
his thumb reaching up and gently pressing against your clothed clit earning a tiny gasp from you. his eyes not leaving your own as he starts rubbing slow tight circles on your clit captivated by the way your back arches and hips buck into his hand trying to get more friction. “is this helping baby?” he asks, playing innocent. “yes feels good daddy” youre words morphing together slightly.
he speeds up his movements softly letting out a groan at the sight of your panties getting wetter and wetter by the minute. “more..” you whimper, hips bucking into him.
he pulls your panties over and off your hips pulling your legs apart a little more and god he thinks he might pass out at the sight of your slick pussy and puffy clit. “come here baby.” he coos out to you. you sit up and he moves your legs to either side of him your dripping cunt right over his solid cock. the bulge very clear in his grey sweats.
his hands come in contact with your hips lowering you slowly so your sitting on his cock. “there you go babygirl.” his words making you dizzy. but nothing would prepare you for the feeling when his hands guide your hips to grind over his bulge, letting out a loud whimper at the feeling of it. he continues to guide your hips with his hands so slowly and gently as to not overwhelm you, but its not long before youre wanting more taking control and moving your hips on your own setting your own pace.
“mm yeah good girl.” chan cant help but moan out. his praises doing nothing but pushing you on, moans slipping past your lips as your pussy moves against the hard length of chan at a quickening pace. chan looks down at the place where your bodies meet the dark patch from your wetness only growing bigger, and he cant help but grind up meeting your hips as his head falls back with a deep groan.
“uunnhh daddy” your needy voice makes his head snap up to you again and hes met with a mess of you, your eyes crossing before rolling to the back of your head. “daddy.” you moan out a little louder this time and he knows whats coming.
“thats it baby just let go for daddy okay?” his voice is gentle and encouraging pushing you over the edge and making you see stars. gripping his shoulders tightly as you cum. the sight of it pushing chan over the edge and making him finish in his pants.
your heavy breathing fills the room as you both come down from your highs. chans hand on your cheek bringing you back to him as you open your eyes just to close them again as his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. “always come to daddy when you feel like that okay babygirl? im the only one who can make that feeling go away.” he mutters as he pulls away from your lips resting his forehead against yours. “okay daddy.”
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hoshieeyewrinkles · 3 months
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Guilty pleasure [2]
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Part 1 | Part 2
Tw warning: step-cest, public sex, car sex, they fuck infront of the church, slight choking, reader gets called slut once, corruption kink.
You guys wanted part 2 so here I am, even though I don't like the part 1 😭
"Anyone can see us right now," his raspy voice lingers in your ear as you struggle to hold back your moans while slowly bouncing on his cock. His dark gaze admires your flushed cheeks, the sweat causing your hair to stick to your forehead, and your mouth slightly apart. His hand, holding your puffy black dress up while admiring your wet cunt, effortlessly taking his cock. The tinted car windows were raised, hiding you both from outside view.
"You really have no shame, right? Doing this in front of a church, knowing that our parents will be back any moment." He lightly spanks your ass while watching you bounce faster. "C-can't help it hyuckie, I needed you..." You whined in his ear, moving closer to kiss him. He groaned and eagerly kissed you back, his hands caressing your hair.
Everything was so sinful, including bouncing on your stepbrother's cock in the car in front of a church while your parents are inside praying and you both are inside the car fucking under the guise of you being sick and Haechan taking care of you.
Your two moans blend together, his hands caressing your hips and guiding you to bounce faster. The force causing the car to shake as well. "Mhm...hyukiee," you kept moaning his name desperately trying to reach your high. "Fuck. Look at what I have turned you into, an uncontrollable slut." His hand wrapped around your throat, lightly choking you. You move his hand away from your throat, bringing it closer to your lips and kissing it. His heart melted at your actions for a moment before he began thrusting his hips back in.
His lips latching onto your nipples through your dress, making you squirm from the sensation, both of you desperately caressing each other, trying to ride out your high together. You came on his cock as he watched himself release himself in you, his cum dripping down your cunt looking the creamiest ever. If only he could eat you out right now.
A knock on the car made you both panic as you immediately wore your underwear back and haechan pulled back his pants. Lowering the windows, he was greeted by your mom's face.
"Y/n, honey, are you doing okay-?" She gasped halfway through when she saw your sweaty state. Haechan beside you, a lazy cocky smirk plastered on his face, manspreading while you sat there timidly scared to be caught. "Oh my goodness, what happened to you sweetie?" She questioned, and Haechan began to caress your hair as you rested your head on his chest. "Don't worry, she was just feeling nauseous." He said, and your mother gave a brief nod, her gaze darting between the close proximity you two shared and your face. "I see, let me go back and bring your dad honey, we will go to the pharmacy." She said before leaving hesitantly, missing the smooch you two shared.
"The car smelled strange....maybe I am being paranoid." She reassured herself. While you and Haechan continued to make out, he smirked between your open mouthed kisses, reflecting on how he transformed you into his perfect little angel. He would never claim you as his guilty pleasure, whether in front of your mother or God, because like always he was never guilty of ruining you.
Read part 1 here
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iwaasfairy · 5 months
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congratulations on your 15k milestone fairy!!!! i’m such a fan of every single one of ur fics, I’ve been here ever since u started publishing mirror and indelible and it’s been such an amazing ride!!! ur the best fairy, hope u reach 150k now ♡´・ᴗ・`♡
for the event maybe could u make megumi + stepcest? make it as dark as u wish haha <3~
:<<< I have a very sad kitty image that I wanna put in here but I can’t buT iMMMM Big emOtional yOUre so swEEETTTT
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tw (step)cest, jealousy, manipulation
Megumi knows he has you wrapped around his finger. It’s not particularly hard to see in the first place, watching you ‘hmm’ and gawk each time you do as he asks. He doesn’t think that you’re stupid, but you are naive, and just like the lot of them - you didn’t get enough attention from daddy. Ever since Tsumiki moved out, you’ve become even more clingy, sticky and pushy with your affection.
“You know that’s not going to stop me, right?” He asks, and watches how your big eyes flutter up at him like you’re trying to take a shutter the sight and print it into your brain. It takes a few seconds for your pout to appear, and heat to start prickling on the tip of your nose and ears.
“‘M not trying to stop you,” the hands you had wrapped around your tits to protect your modesty drop, as you glance down and step out of your panties too. “It’s cold in here, niichan~”
Megumi clicks his tongue, before putting the toothbrush back into the glass. He can do that later. “Then get into the bath already, shitty sister. I don’t know why you’re twirling around here in the first place.” He can’t help the snappy tone when it comes to you, truly, he does try. But the meaner he is, the softer you become. And how’s a man supposed to ignore your glittering puppy-dog eyes? He truly can’t.
“Are you getting in too?” you patiently ask, sliding into the hot water with slightly wobbly legs, like you’re a baby fawn taking its first steps. Megumi never really felt called to be a protector… but you are something else entirely.
His answer comes before the thought. “Of course I am. Move over.” You do, and he strips down and gets in like he says - but instead of any of this calming his hard-on, he’s only getting harder when your skin slides up against his and you sway the water when you get comfortable against his chest, dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “Gotta clean you up. Move your arms.” And his hands follow, kneading the soft skin of your tits with slightly rough touches.
“Nii nii?” He responds with only a hum, and runs his hands down your body a few times to slide your legs apart so he can fit a hand in between and trail his fingers over your pussy, putting more pressure on your covered clit until you start to melt against him a little. After a few soft gasps, you turn your face to hide against his throat. “Did you use to take baths with Tsumiki neechan too?” Your voice is too soft to make out any true undertone, but he still feels a slight smile tug at his mouth corners.
“Hah?” Of course he didn’t. While he appreciates both your older sister, he’s pretty sure she would have killed him if he had tried. She might still kill him if she finds out what dirty thoughts he’s put into your head now, too. Only you could be doe-eyed and obedient enough to let your big brother trick you into playing with your tits and pussy after hours. He pinches your clit between thumb and pointer until you squeak, and it sends you slipping down and out of his touch with a frown.
“‘Gumi niichan~ That hurts!” Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at him, and more heat starts collecting on your cheeks until you look all flushed and drowsy and a little bit too distracted.
“That’s what you get for asking stupid questions.” He keeps your eyes for a second, before you finally look away in embarrassment and run a hand over your eyes. But when you try to get up, he pulls you back down into him and sloshing the water around more. “Hey, what- are you jealous?”
“No, ‘m not jealous!” You’re convincing exactly no one. And his grip on your wrist stays even though you try to wrong loose, before you eventually give up and you blink away tears. “God, let go, niichan. I don’t like you.” He takes hold of your head and pulls you closer until you’re nose to nose and he’s unable to keep the slight smile from showing up on his face.
“Gimme one kiss, c’mon.” You give him the saddest, most pitiful peck - before he leans in more and squeezes your face. “A proper kiss.” Those long lashes almost brush his when you look up at him and suck your bottom lip. But be it wanting to be done quicker, or actual want, you go back in and let him capture your mouth with his until he can push his tongue between your lips and force them open. Until you’re relaxing against his hold on you and your tits get pressed to his chest - slumped against the naked body of your own big brother.
After a bit of letting you kiss him back, he taps your cheek. “Get onto your knees, we gotta clean me too. You do it so well with that pretty mouth, right?’
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