#not inc^st

[moechies]

ee a little thought about shidou nii-- so please leave if you're not abt that!! :3

cw inc3st, sisbro, anal, dubcon, noncon

shidou nii who merely shrugs in a disappointing demeanor when he finally gets to mount you, dedicated to fuckin' that pretty cunny. but you tell him that you want to stay abstinent for your lover with big bulbous tears if your eyes, shaky hands coming up to wipe away the tears with the little dignity in your chest.

you'd never want to dissapoint him, but you have to be truthful this time he lets you have it! although he's clad against your chest, body laid atop of yours and fingers running through your soft pink hair. he hates how you're flinching under his touch-- it's unusual to him.

"fine, whatever." he grumbles, a low pout on his face. but the slight glint that shows through his pink irises show that he isn't going to let you off this easily, especially without something in return first. even up til this moment, you knew that about shidou.

"y'r gonna let me fuck your pretty ass though, ain't'cha?" he giggles when your vision suddenly pans to him, a cold shudder down your back.

"shidou nii--" he's quick to pull you down, propping up his legs and butt high, your thighs laying against his and your calves pliant against his shoulders. "let me have this, since ya won't let me take yer cunt's virginity." you mewl under his touch, scrambling with a loud whine when he tugs off your shorts, but keeps your panties instilled.

it's not unusual for him to-- he's one to normally press his burly fingers down your panties and thumb at your clit, fingers deep in your cunt, as well as shoving his pretty face inbetween your supple thighs for a feast, or just for a nuzzling huff of your crotch. but you didn't think he'd intiatate more; perhaps you were a little out of it when you believed so. maybe it was because of the two fingers he had in your cunt while he nibbled at your swollen clit.

"nii-nii! stop it--" he groans when you whine, ignoring the incessant pushes at his head when he's clearly enjoying himself below, huffing at your sweet scent. "y'r so gross, stop it ryuseiiii!"

he palms himself through his black shorts, the chub of his cock obviously visible nonetheless of the relatively thick fabric. "not fair, don't ya love me most? i should be the one yer givin' it to. but it's cause you're my lil imouto-- i'll be nice this once, 'kay?" shidou grins, tugging your panties off in a swift move and setting his eyes on the puckered hole below your chubby, slicked-up, pussy.

"cute." he whistles, thumbs spreading at the glimmering hole. it's unusual for him to ignore the sight if your irresistable cunt, but it's all apart of the fun to him-- maybe if you've had enough, you'll ask him to fuck you there too.

"r--ryu," you cry, pushing away at his thick forearms. "s--so embarrasin,' please,"

"shush, sis." he grumbles, tugging his cock out of his shorts. it seems thicker this time, despite his size already. it's fat enough that his fingers almost don't touch while taking ahold of the shaft, and it's a tad darker than his arms skin-tone. his tip is a pretty blush of red, and his tip spills with pre-cum non-stop. the contrast of the pearlescent creme compared to the blushed tip is a gorgeous sight-- and you would've never guessed that he was embarrassed of it to some extent. "not gonna prep ya, just take it. it counts as a punishment, 'kay?"

"no!" you stutter, "please, ryu-- i need it, please, please p-prep it, i never had anythin' in there before nii-nii!" you stammer incessantly, in hopes that your sweet begs and big puppy eyes will enamor him enough to give you some mercy.

but he simply shrugs, pressing his wet tip against the puckered hole stretched by his thumbs,

"the tighter the better."

[theloveinc]

mating press is so objectively ugly ... embarrassing

[cosmiceres]

Daddy teaching big bro how to eat pussy by demonstrating on me. Daddy keeps my thighs spread nice and wide so big bro can see my needy, dripping cunnie <3

[barleyo]

Better Things.

Older Bro! Megumi X Little Sis! Reader (smut)

A/N: please read the tags and avoid this if anything mentioned in them discomforts you ^_^ i'm not responsible for your media consumption, so do not read this is if you do not like the sound of it. thanks!! :3

Tags: incest (brother-sister), some misogyny, 25-ish years old megumi, fingering, oral (f receiving), no penetration/dry humping

Wordcount: 2.8k

Megumi did not know whether or not to be angry with you or himself. Maybe a mixture of both— no. No, you. Your fault. 

Very rarely did he have time off from missions. Often, it was back to back assignments in far away places. It had been two or three years since he had seen you last. He went back to your apartment as soon as he came back from an especially lengthy mission, only to find it empty. No furniture, no clutter. No little sister in sight. 

He found your landlord. Some old sleaze, Megumi remembered him well from when he helped you with moving in. He was so angry that day, extra eyerolls and teeth gritting. He never wanted you to be anywhere that wasn't attached to his hip. You weren't meant to be on your own, you needed him to protect you, but you insisted on a little independence. 

"She hasn't lived here for a while, son" the landlord answered, leaning on the frame of his front door, arms crossed. "Said she was moving into college dorms."

College? What did you need college for? To get some degree? A worthless slip of paper to show the four years that you wasted? 

Megumi stomped away from the apartment complex with a look of pure betrayal. 

He'd been sending you money and clothes— anything he could use to keep you entertained while he was gone— over the years. Was that not enough? If you were that damn bored, you could have told him. Megumi would have done something, anything, to keep you stuck safely at home, but no. You weren't at home. 

Were you even alive, he wondered? He had heard stories of those college bastards eating freshman girls alive. Sororities hazing sweet things like you to no end, fuck boys slipping mystery pills into drinks of girls stupid enough not to watch them, and God knew you were just that stupid. What if you got knocked up by some awful frat guy while Megumi was gone? What if you were slutting around campus? Or worse:

What if you had gotten a boyfriend?

Classes here were much harder than you had anticipated. You knew college was a big deal. You hadn't done especially well in high school, either, but the social aspect of college spoke to you so loudly. The movies had hyped it up well. You wanted it all— a spot in a fancy sorority, maybe Chi Omega or Kappa Alpha Theta. You wanted a clique of close girlfriends to gossip with. You wanted to sit in the front row of every class and answer every professor's questions with precision and accuracy. You wanted to be a cheerleader, a book worm, a prodigy, and a notorious knock-out all rolled into one.

Well, year one of college and you were severely disappointed.

You went bidless with every sorority you tried to rush. Friends were hard to keep and come by— your roommate never even spared you a side glance. She was too busy bringing boys home to catch your name, you assumed. You sat in the flooded middle rows in your lecture halls, and the only question you had ever answered correctly was when your physics professor aimlessly asked what day of the week it was.

Your essays were consistently given static, mediocre grades. Your exam scores were less than stellar. The cafeteria's food was tasteless and bland. Your feet constantly hurt from walking around campus all day. Your schedule was awkward and poorly spaced out.

You didn't know why you even left home. Not your old apartment, but home. Home with 'Gumi. Sure, you didn't see him a lot, but if your brother was your only shot at a decent human connection, you'd take seeing him once or twice a month.

You were petty to move out in the first place. You wished you could smack your old self right across her stupid, stupid face! You wish you could shake her by the shoulders and say 'stay home! you aren't cut out for this!'

Who were you joking, thinking you could make it on your own? You weren't very smart, and as much as 'Gumi loved you, he made that very clear.

"You're a girl," he often told you when you were both small children. Some neighborhood boys picked on you, calling you creative names like 'stupid' and 'idiot,' articulated as children do. "Girls aren't supposed to be strong or smart. That's why they have brothers to protect them," he would reason, his logic going unchecked by anyone around him.

"You're a girl," he'd say when you both got a little older. Some boy had played with your hearts, stringing you on. "Guys like hurting girl's feelings. That's why you don't need one." He wanted badly to add, 'you just need me,' to that sentence.

"You don't need to work, you know," he told you after you finally finished high school. "Just stay with me. You don't need to do anything else."

God, you wish you had listened to him. Instead, you had your nose stuck up so high in the air that you would drown if it rained. You left home because you wanted more for yourself, but was this the universe's way of showing you that you had all you needed? You left because you thought you were big and bad, because you thought you were a woman. Well, life was certainly humbling you, because just like Megumi had always told you, you were just a girl. 

A girl sitting in a tiny, cramped dorm room with a dirty nightstand, awful grades, no friends, no place to belong, and no romance. The high hopes you had in the beginning of the semester had plummeted. All you wanted was your older brother. 

After high school, Megumi's overprotectiveness and thinly veiled old fashioned way of thinking was suffocating. You brushed off his words with pouts and huffs. He was right, though. He was always right. You did need him to protect you, to provide for you. 

You needed Megumi to save you from your own stupid choice, and quick.

Finding you was surprisingly easy. There were only a few local colleges. Megumi was certain you weren't anywhere across the country, or God forbid, international. After a little digging, who found that you were attending a community college only ten or so miles away from his house. High acceptance rates, low reputation, and zero tuition. Made sense. 

He scoffed at the idea. How could you go somewhere so lowbrow? He didn't want you enrolled back in school, point-blank, but if you had to go, he would've paid to get you into somewhere much better. He wanted the best for you. This place was not it. 

Hands crossed over his chest, shoulders slouched, Megumi stared at the brick walls of your dorm building. It was old and dilapidated. He was sure the admin board would refer to it as 'rustic' or 'charming,' but really, it was a dump. No place for his baby. Baby sister, he meant, not... not that way, right?

Megumi shook his head, trying to dispel the thought before it could settle. Of course, not that way. He was just protective. You were his sister, and this place was beneath you. It wasn’t about control, it was about making sure you were safe and comfortable. That’s what older brothers did—looked out for their family. He had every right to check on you.

He didn't want to control you. He just wanted you to do what he told you to and to follow his guidance.

Still, standing there in front of your dorm, something gnawed at him. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t doing this purely out of brotherly concern. He brushed it aside, pushing his hands into his pockets as he glanced up at the windows. One of those was yours, no doubt. He hadn't been able to find the exact dorm number, but the building wasn't very big. A perk, in this case, of the budget college you'd stuck yourself in. 

Megumi sighed, his frustration growing as he scanned the windows. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be in this kind of place. You had him, and took care of everything for you. Sure, maybe he wasn't physically around often. Maybe he couldn't give you his time, but he gave you everything else. Every card in his name was free for your use. Every cent in his account had your name written all over it, had you have wanted it.

Women are ungrateful, he reminded himself, shaking his head in frustration. It's just how they are.

He turned the corner, making his way toward the entrance, rehearsing what he might say. He wasn’t here to pick a fight. This was just a pick-up. A chance to remind you that you didn’t have to settle for something so mediocre. A chance to bring you back home, where you belonged. His chest tightened as he stepped inside the building. 

The hallway was humid and dimly lit, the faint hum of old fluorescent lights filling the silence. As he approached the stairwell, his footfalls echoed—louder than he appreciated in the still quietness. He didn’t know which room was yours, but he had a feeling he’d know it when he saw it.

Reaching the second floor, he paused in front of a row of doors. His hand hovered for a moment before he forced himself to knock on the one closest to him. He had no plan for what he’d say if this was the wrong room or worse, if you didn’t want to see him ever again. The uncertainty didn’t matter. He’d bring you with him no matter what. 

He wasn’t leaving until you understood that this—this place, this whole plan—wasn’t what was best for you. He’d make you see that you still needed him, even if it meant dragging you out by your wrist like a child. Shoving aside whatever was stirring in the pit of his stomach, an unsettling mix of guilt and something else, he watched the door creak open slightly.

Your puffy, flushed face peeked through the door. Damn it, crying already?

"You don't get to be mad at me," you sobbed angrily. 

This is why Megumi still saw you as a something to be protected. A weak, emotional woman. 

"You left me first! You left and I never knew when you would come back, 'Gumi—" you shook your head, burying your face back into the pillow under you as you corrected yourself, "—Megumi."

Perched behind you, pressing his clothed erection against your ass, Megumi huffed. His chest planted against your back to trap you against your thin, uncomfortable mattress. 

"That's different. I have to work."

You sniffled and felt more tears slip from your eyes. Small stains were starting to cover your pillow. Wet splotches giving away your cries of anger, sadness, and pleasure. 

Megumi’s sigh was heavy, his breath brushing against the back of your neck as he leaned in closer. “You know it’s not the same,” he said, his voice calm, almost patronizing. His arms caged you in, keeping you pinned beneath him, as if he could physically restrain your defiance. "I don’t have a choice. You do. You chose this." His words were measured, but there was a subtle edge to them, the weight of his snark pressing down as much as his body was.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to shift your weight, to pull away from the suffocating feeling of his presence. But he didn’t budge. He never did. "You say it like it’s so easy," you said, your voice cracking with every word. "But you don’t understand. You don't know what it's like to feel so lonely. 'S like you don't love me anymore, 'Gumi, like I'm not important."

Megumi's grip tightened slightly, his chest rising and falling against your back. His voice softened, but the meaning in it remained. "I’m making sure you’re taken care of. That you don’t end up in places likethis." He tipped his head back, gesturing to the disorganized dorm room, even though you couldn't see what he was doing. "Do you know what could happen to you out here? Here where anyone could take you? Hurt you?"

You felt his hands snatch you up by your hips. A more freeing position, sure, but more exposing too. Your ass perched in the air and your face was pushed further into your pillow. 

"I’m the one who's always been there for you, you know that. I always take care of you." 

Cool air whooshed over your bottom. Megumi's palms ran over your cheeks. You could've sworn you heard him groan at the sight before him. Your cunt sticky and spread, nearly as wet as your tears. 

"Don't ever say," he spoke between placing firm licks over your clit from behind, "that I don't love you."

He spat on the little nub, slicking you up. From broad strokes to pointed swirls against the tip of your clit, Megumi felt himself growing lost in you. He'd wanted this for so long, he just didn't know it. He didn't know why he wanted to so close to you, why he felt the primal need to protect you, but it all made sense now.

One protects their property, don't they? They get a guard dog to chain up at the edge of it. They keep watch, armed on their porch, ready to shoot anything that moves.

A foreign feeling entered you. A snaking tongue slurped at your hole, wriggling deep inside and toying with your tight walls. 

"'Gumi, no," you couldn't fight it. Embarrassed as you were, you wanted— needed, to cum.

Fingers replaced the intruding tongue. The angle was all too good. Too perfect. You felt drool prick the corner of your mouth and heat rise through your lower body. It was like a wire wrapped around your womb and cinched, tighter, tighter, tighter—

"Awh! No, no more," you cried out. "Can't take anymore!"

"No?" Megumi looked almost amused. "Still sensitive, huh? Guess no guys have broken you in yet."

You shook your head slowly.

"Good. We'll fix that, then. At home."

[megumiluvv]

❥ includes: big brother choso, f!reader, implied age/size diff, incest, pervy choso (>.<) (if u don’t like, don’t read!)

Big Brother!Choso who loves loves loves his little sister soooo much, he has to be around you all the time!

Big Brother!Choso who insisted on being your first time so “you know how boys are supposed to treat you”, and he treated you well. Better than any other guy, he thinks.

Big Brother!Choso who knows it’s wrong, but you don’t know any better when he insists on showering with you at your big age.

Big Brother!Choso who can’t help but stare at your body when his hands wash it. Can you blame him when your body is just that cute?

Big Brother!Choso whose hands trail a little too far down (on accident, of course!!) to your cute little cunny, dick jumping at the gasp that escapes your lips.

Big Brother!Choso who can’t help but love your whines when his big cock pushes into your weeping cunt. How could he resist when his cute sister is pleading for him to touch her?

Big Brother!Choso who bends you over in the shower, water cascading down your soft skin as you grip the wall and cry to him that he’s just too big :(((

Big Brother!Choso who reluctantly forces himself to pull out before he can cum, even though he loves the thought of you pregnant :(

Big Brother!Choso who misses you when you’re away during the day, so he grabs your dirty panties and jerks off to the smell of you, sometimes cumming into the panties so he can feel closer to you. He makes sure he does your laundry afterwards so you don’t have a clue!

Big Brother!Choso who hates when you cook for him, he should be taking care of you! But you make up for it with the cute little smile you have and the way your body looks when you reach up for a certain spice you need.

Big Brother!Choso who happily helps you reach the item, free hand on your hip and pressing into you, totally not on purpose!

Big Brother!Choso who laughs a little at your flustered expression as you continue to cook and pretend to not have felt his hard-on.

Big Brother!Choso who lets you sit on his lap and watch movies with him. He finds it adorable how you react to the sex scenes, squirming in his lap and just rousing his dick more…

Big Brother!Choso who pounds you into the couch, movie now forgotten while he shows you his brotherly love. Back arching, tears streaming down your cheeks as he bullies your poor cunny. And he just gets so deep while you cry that it’s too much, but he knows what’s good for you, so he just doesn’t listen :(((

Big Brother!Choso who really is a good brother, taking care of you so so well after he’s finished breaking you. Nice bath, cuddles in his bed, his big shirt just swallows you whole while he rubs your back and soothes you to sleep.

Masterlist

[sunnyissweet]

hey guys, so excited to post for maxvid week! ive finished everything up for that, so now i'll start posting more variety! for example, here's some dipper and mabel bc i love them <3 hope you enjoy!

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uncle Leon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Later, babydoll.”

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

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

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙷𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙺𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 - 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft Konoha 13 boys; Ft teacher/student|age gap, ft Sex ed; Demonstration, cunnilingus, Daddy kink, belly bulge, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 2,428

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: includes father/daughter incest, underage(16)(though it’s only implied), No use of Y/n, 2nd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“You ready, baby?” Your father asked you, staring straight into your eyes from his position between your thighs. You nodded, your toes already curling in anticipation. “You gotta use your words, baby, okay?”

“Y-yes, Daddy..” You breathed, not knowing what to really expect. He smiled up at you before dipping his tongue into your folds. The sensation made you clench your hands, white-knuckling the edge of your father’s desk, and fighting the urge to clamp your legs shut.

“See that, boys? You wanna make sure your partner’s feeling good.” He leaned back in a pressed a kiss directly to your clit, sucking on it slightly. Your hands snapped into your father’s hair and your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders as you hunched forward slightly, your hands not knowing whether to push his face forward or pull him away. You felt a chuckle against your sensitive bud and the feeling only made your thighs clamp further around his head. With one last lick combined with a bit of suction to your clit, he pulled back and untangled himself from your limbs, lightly coaxing your hands out of his hair and instead intertwining your fingers with his.

“What was that?!” Naruto asked, wonder and fascination clear in his voice.

“That’s the effect of stimulating her clit,” seeing the blonde’s confusion, your father sighed, “Does anyone know what a clit is?” You could almost hear the desperation in his voice to not have to start from scratch with these boys, making you hold back a giggle.

“The clitoris, a bundle of nerves on the vulva that can cause extreme amounts of pleasure.” Sasuke recited as if reading from a script. He tried to look and sound indifferent but the tent in his pants and the pink dusting his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

“Oh thank Kami..” Your dad whispered against your clit and sent a shiver through your whole body, “Yes. Now, everyone gather behind me and make sure you can see.” He instructed, the boys doing so like trained soldiers. “Everyone can see?” He asked for confirmation and got half-assed mumbled responses that generally amassed to a ‘yes’ which was good enough for him since he just wanted to get on with the lesson.

“The clit is not always in the same spot so you can’t just use one reference and take it as universal fact. But on our gorgeous young model here,” your dad looked up and smiled when your eyes met, a smirk evident when he saw how your cheeks reddened from the praise, even teasing more by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh directly next to your wet folds, “her clit is right here.” He announced as he slid his left index and middle fingers into your wetness and spread it to show off your swollen bud. “Can everyone see what I’m talking about?” He asked, not bothering to look behind him. You did, though, look up at the boys, and seeing them all nod, you conveyed that to the teacher.

“Good. Now. See what happens when I rub it a little.” Your eyes widened before he shifted his hands to use his left hand to spread you open and wrapped his right around your thigh to lower his right middle finger to gently rub loose circles over it. Your back arched and your feet flexed down with toes curling, letting out a long moan.

“Holy crap…” You heard Shikamaru’s voice mutter, seemingly in awe.

“That’s right. It’s certainly a beautiful sight,” The older man said, sending a cheeky smirk up to you when you looked down at him still between your legs, “Stimulating the clit is a surefire way to get her to cum, yea?” He explained as he never stopped his ministrations. “But don’t rely on it, that’s just plain lazy. You gotta make her feel good in other ways too.” You felt his breath hot on your wet lower lips and a tremor wracked up your spine at the feeling.

He looked back up at you as he sped up his fingers, rubbing and rubbing at your sensitive bud and when your moans got even louder he dipped his head back in and lapped at your entrance again. The dual sensations sent you over the edge and your hands shot right back to his silver hair but managed to somehow keep your legs open as you spilled into his mouth.

You heard the noises of wonder from all the boys surrounding you as they watched your hips twitch and your cunny gush around your father’s tongue. His fingers didn’t stop as you twitched from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You whined and tried to shuffle away from the overstimulation but he planted his hand on your hip to keep you trapped in place.

“Ah, hold still babygirl, we still gotta teach these boys how to properly fuck such a pretty pussy.” The silver-haired man breathed against the puffy lips of your pussy. As you panted to try and refill your lungs with the oxygen they needed, you dazedly nodded and did your best to stop your squirming for him. With a fond smile, your dad pressed a kiss to your swollen clit and stood up, soothingly stroking your hip in response to your jolt.

“Daddy…” You whined into the room otherwise quiet apart from small groaning breaths and murmured observation from the boys watching your father stand between your thighs with his pants tugged down below his achingly hard cock and full, heavy balls.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you.” He spoke lowly, specifically talking to you, “Are you ready for me, baby?” Your father raised his tone enough that he made sure all the boys heard him. He wanted to set a good example of specifically asking for consent. When he first gave you The Talk, he put extra emphasis on the phrase ‘Consent is not only sexy, but mandatory.’

You nodded enthusiastically and chirped out a verbal confirmation before he had a chance to prompt it. He looked down at you with a fond, proud smile, still coated and dripping with lust. Your cunny fluttered around nothing at the sight it only increased when you felt your daddy’s hot, rock-hard rod rest against your slit.

“Can everyone see well enough? If you can’t, get into a position where you can.” Your dad called out, once again without looking at his students. More nonverbal nods and quiet shuffling from the boys that you relayed to their Sensei with a lazy nod. He smiled at you in silent thanks before it turned more predatory and sensual and he started rocking his hips against you. His shaft slid through your pussy lips and he coated himself in your dripping arousal. His cock head slid all the way to the bottom of your cunt and then all the way back up to your swollen clitty and collected your juices. Each time he rocked his hips back and forth against you, his tip caught on your twitching hole before it slid back onto its path, teasing you torturously each time it didn’t go in.

You whined at the almost cruel teasing and tried to subtly roll your hips enough to force your father’s tip inside your cunt but he was quick to stop you with a tightening grip on your hips. The wordless pleas grew more desperate the more he relented. Your noises caught the attention of some of the boys and their gazes flicked to your face. They saw your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your brows bunched together, and desire and desperation and a deep want gleaming in your eyes. If they weren’t painfully hard before, they sure as hell were then.

Finally, your daddy decided it was enough teasing and slid his tip to the bottom of your cunny and slowly slid back up where his head caught on your hole once more. But instead of simply shifting his hips to just move past it, he angled his hips just right and finally started to sink his cock into you. Your mouth dropped open and a silent moan escaped your lips in a quivering breath.

“That’s it, baby. That’s a good girl.” The silver-haired man praised, rocking his hips forward in small intervals to push in inch by inch. The stretch of your little pussy over his thick cock was delectable, the burn mixing with blinding pleasure. Your father slid his thumb back and forth soothingly over your hip bone as he continued to push in. The boys where were at an ideal position— right beside your father and your hips— were tantalized by the sight of your cunt stretched so wide over the thick cock.

“If you’re like me with a partner so much smaller than you, make sure that you’re extra careful. Always go slow and be careful at first, but if she’s so much smaller than you like my good little girl, then you need to be extra careful. Don’t hurt her. Isn’t that right, baby?” Your father spoke, only slowing his movements when he got nearly 3/4 the way in. You were so focussed on your breathing and the feeling of your daddy’s cock that you couldn’t muster up words so you settled for an eager nod and a whined affirmation.

“That’s it. Good girl. My good girl.” He cooed and slowly slid the rest of himself inside you until his hips were flush with yours. With his size, especially compared to yours, his cock made a bulge in your tummy, not painful at all but noticeable. You released a full breath and took the moment’s reprieve to prepare yourself. Your father quietly cooed praises at you and relented on his strong grip on your hips to lightly ghost his fingers over your skin. Your walls beginning to flutter around him was cue enough for him to regain his hold on you, adjusting his grip to prepare for the harsh thrusts to come.

“Ready, Daddy.” You breathed, lust-filled gaze meeting his. He nodded and slowly pulled out until just his tip was left before he jolted his hips forward to bury himself inside you once more. The movement punched a moan out of you and made you instinctively arch your back, though his hands on your waist held you down. “Fuck-! Daddy!” You cried out as he pulled back again, this time with the intention to set a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for Daddy.” He spoke calmly even with his hips hammering into you with a steady pace. “Make sure you pay attention to her reactions. How good she feels.” The sensei spoke to his students, his voice still impossibly even. Some of the boys, who you identified as Kiba, Shikamaru, Neji, and Sasuke in your hazy state, followed his instruction and aimed their gazes at your face, and flicked to the movements you made.

“Fuck!” You squealed and gripped the edge of the desk as your expression contorted with pleasure when your dad hit your internal bundle of nerves dead on. He started aiming his thrusts for that spot, pumping his cock inside your gummy walls. Your moans reached even higher in pitch when he masterfully steeled his grip with one hand to keep you in place with his rough thrusts and moved his other hand over your belly. His left hand smoothed over your tummy before his fingers covered the bump that formed each time he buried his dick inside you again. He pressed down with just enough pressure to not be painful and send pleasure shooting to every last nerve ending.

Your chest thrusted up as your back arched, as much as his grip and pressure on your lower body allowed, and your head was thrown back with your mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Your legs trembled around your father’s form and your toes curled almost painfully and your breath got caught in your throat as your cunny spasmed violently around his cock, still roughly fucking into you. Your creamy pussy left a nearly dripping ring of white at the base of his length and your fluids gushed out and soaked both your thighs and his.

“Ohh, that’s a good girl. Such a good babygirl.” You could hardly hear his voice over the ringing in your ears from your most intense orgasm yet. The aftershocks still rang through your body and sensitivity made your puffy pussy lips ache with the continued stretch of your father’s member pushing in and out of your walls without pause. Your cunt continued to pulse around him for several more thrusts until his pace finally faltered. It was a single stutter but it was enough to know that he was close.

Your father let out small grunts as he got closer to his end and his thrusts became sloppier and had random bouts of more force that promised to leave you with bruises. It was hardly painful, though, it had you letting out yelped moans and unintelligible rambles of Yes and pleas for more and how good your daddy was making you feel. The silver-haired man’s hips finally halted as he planted himself as deep inside as he could reach and emptied his balls inside your quivering cunny. The hand that had been on your belly was now planted beside your body to keep himself up as he hunched over his pretty little daughter’s heaving body.

You both knew that you would have a dark bruise on your hip from his hard grip and on your hips from his forceful thrusts. You also knew that you would wear them proudly, no matter how long it took to sit down normally afterwards. With the view of your tummy unobstructed, you could see how the bulge seemed to inflate more with all of his cum filling you up. The boys around you stood in a tense silence, both because they didn’t quite know what to do or say, and because they all felt too stiff with the painful boners straining against their pants.

“You did so good, baby.” Your father cooed breathlessly and set a gentle kiss on your lips. Slowly, he moved to stand straighter, the movement consequently making his cock inside you shift and had you both flinching from oversensitivity. The sensei sent a cheeky glance around at all his students’ faces and saw the poorly veiled excitement on all their faces as he spoke,

“I hope you all saw that. Because if you didn’t you’ll have to wait for another demonstration on another day.”

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[moechies]

big brudder shidou is such a guard dog.. never letting u have a boyfie but basically having been your boyfie since forever <3

nonnie ur so right :( ryu nii is wayyy too possessive and every single aspect and bit of him feels a violent yearn to always be with u , be the only one on ur mind . yeaaahh he’s da best ♡ tw cest

"i hate you!" you whine — having thrown your tantrum the minute your brother stole you away from the seat of your secret date night, to the moment he shut the door behind him to your shared home.

you toss your white clutch onto the ground, stomping incessantly towards your bedroom before slamming the door shut. he hears your muffled groans of frustration, soft hiccups barely audible as you whine into your pillow. "stupid, stupid, stupid nii-nii." you mumble, and he merely chuckles at your attempt to hide your fustrations at him.

your date didn't even last a whole thirty minutes before you felt a familiar clasp of a big warm hand on your bare shoulder. it's evident by the way your date's eye's peer up at the unfamiliar face that hovers behind you, stuttering as he poorly excuses himself to the washroom. shidou almost laughs as he watches your excuse of a date stumble across the marble grounds, nearly slipping as he gets one last glance at your brother, not you, before making a run for it.

"what are you doing—!" before shidou lets you you finish your sentence, he’s tugging you by the soft of your bicep, cusping and trapping you against his side. "let's go home, sis."

you fuss and whine, attempting to convince shidou to call the stupid, unworthy man back, but he wastes no breath wanting to entertain you, and simply sits you down on the leather seats, buckling your seat belt, and slamming the car door shut. he's whilstling the entire time with no care in the world, as if another casual night of taming his little sister.

shidou shrugs his jacket off, making his way towards your room with a sluggish drag. he shoves your door open with no shame, watching and chuckling at your sulking self hidden under all your fluffy blankets and pillows. you only ever go into your room when you're sulking or upset at shidou, (which is common) but you're often sleeping against the brute in the comfort of his silk sheets and master bedroom. he claims that the bed gets too cold at night, and needs you by his side.

"now now," shidou grins, situating himself on the edge of your bed, "don't be like that. yer acting like a damned brat."

"fuck off, ryu." you hiccup foot pressing against the mans glute to distance him from you. he only catches the limb with a swift grab, halting any movement from your left leg from now on.

"is that really how you're going to thank your big bro for saving you from that piece-of-shit excuse of a man? hm? look at mee." shidou drags out, his free burly hand coming to reach at your face. he turns your jaw, cheeks squeezed tight in his hold, forcing your eyes on him. he enamours the sight before him, your quivering lips and watery eyes — how conniving you are. he knows you don’t care for the man, but you want to be pitied and coddled by your eldest brother. he knows you all too well. you’re a brat. "he wasn't that ba—!"

"he's nothing compared to me."

"that's—“

"yeah? are you going to tell me that's not true? say it." shidou growls. "tell nii-nii that useless slag is better than me, sis. speak up. don’t get shy on me now.”

he lets go of your foot, bringing his face close to yours. his forehead presses against yours intimately enough, blearing rosy orbs glaring into yours. you whine, hand coming up to loosen his fingers with a strong grip on your sore cheeks. "n—n'more, nii-nii, h—hurts." you cry, sniffling when he lets go.

"tell me he's a better man."

"not, he—he's not. not—not a better man." you mumble, hiccuping softly.

shidou hums in content, his once engraving glare shifting back into his dim, pinky ones. ‘course he’s not.’

"are you still angry? angry nii-nii fucked up your date?" shidou smiles, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder. "you are, hm? do you want nii-nii to make it up to you?" you whine, a soft blush growing on the apple of your cheeks. "tell me."

you find yourself mute, but you nod your head shakily. "speak up, or i won't." shidou threatens, a malicious grin that spreads across his face. "wait ! wan' you to make it up to me, nii-nii, f'being so mean."

"nii-nii's sorry." shidou moves close, fingers playing and finding their way under your thick sheets. "really, really sorry." shidou whispers against the shell of your ear, and you whine helplessly under him when you feel timid finger drag lightly across your thigh. "will you forgive nii-nii?"

"i—i dunno."

"really? so mean." shidou chuckles, eyes widening when you willingly part your legs subtly. as if he wouldn't notice. "makin' it easy for me, huh? how nice of you."

"stopp.." you whine, embarrassed.

he strokes his middle finger under the crotch of your cotton panty, whistling softly when he discovers your soddened cunt, seemingly having been crying for him all this time. "look at you." you whine, shaking your head softly with your eyes shut tight.

"'mouto's so desperate for me. she’s so cuteeee." he teases, giggling when you gasp out a soft stop. you flinch hard when he presses his middle finger into your soft pussy with no warning, feeling the rest of his hand against the outside of your cunt. "nii-nii!"

"mmm, right here." he mumbles, pressing a tender kiss against your slicked up lips. "look so damn pretty t'night. y’don’t even dress up like this f’me. hm?" the brute admits, curling his finger upwards and making you yelp. "nii-nii!"

"you deserve this for making me jealous, okay? take it like i know you can."

you moan of a sweet melody, hand grasping at his free one when he slips his ring finger besides his middle finger, the overwhelming stretch of his burly fingers making you cry out. "ryuuu," you cry against his lips, moans hitching softly at his constant pummels of his fingers against your walls. "ha—hah—!"

“are my fingers helping you, baby?” shidou giggles, a sick grin that plasters his face when he hears your breath hitch and your lower lip wobble at a particularly mean thrust. “oh baby, don’t cry.” he coos condescendingly, on par to his normal act around you.

“nii-nii, make me c—cum! want to, now!”

“there, there,” shidou coos, “yer wish is my command, righ?’”

and he does — mean fingers molding your pliant pussy to his fingers, drooling and creaming cunt messing up the sheets below you. don’t worry, nii-nii will take care of it all. because that’s just how great of a man shidou ryusei is . ♡

[shyentsmissingink]

.TOUGH LOVE (part 1?)

By rena | Shyent

-Big brother Scara <3

-Non-con

-incest

-spanking

-degradation

-a tiny bit of fluff sprinkled in

Note: Don't like, don't read.

Scaramouche shoves you against your desk and without allowing you a moment to fight back, forces apart your thighs and presses his crotch against yours. You groan and attempt to kick him off of you, However, he thrusts his hip hard against yours, eliciting a shriek from you.

“What kind of punishment will it be this time, huh–?”

You barely had the chance to finish your sentence when he flips your skirt over your ass, kneading his fingers into the supple flesh.

“Wait, what are you-”

You didn't register your brother's hand pulling back, but what you did immediately recognise was the searing sting on your rear and the sound of his palm smacking against your ass cheek. You yell, fear and contempt present in your glare to which Scaramouche returned with a scornful one of his own, his lips curled into an ugly scowl.

You felt so bare, and you didn't realise how cold the temperature within your room was until he bent you over and flipped over your skirt. Or perhaps, it was the self-consciousness that overcame you at the fact that you could feel the zipper of your brother's shorts pressed up against your underwear. Regardless, it was cold and embarrassing.

It wasn't the exposure. You never minded being naked around your brother regardless of how broken your relationship was with him even after puberty because, at the very least, you were comfortable with being in your own body around him.

However, the sensation of him pressed up against you like this?

You open your mouth to reprimand him, but that's when Scaramouche grabbed you by the roots of your hair and pulled back before slamming your head against the desk, leaving you disoriented. In all honesty, it wasn't even the force of the slam but rather your mind trying to grapple with what he was doing.

It wasn't the slamming of your head that was out of the ordinary for you, no. You'd already come to accept Scaramouche's more violent tendencies as your new normal in the years following him having to take the initiative to take care of you and the growing intensity of your altercations…at least, you think you did.

Regardless, aside from the hitting, this is just…not normal, right? It wasn't normal, no, the way he threw you against the table and bent you over. It wasn't normal, you don't think, the way he situated his hips between your thighs. It wasn't normal, you know, the way he wasn't yelling at you yet. It was gross, wrong, not right. Not right.

Did he…what is my brother going to do to me?

“You think that you can get away with disrespecting me?” Scaramouche growls, pulling your head back up, rolling your neck harshly in his grip.

Scaramouche sounded incredulous as if what you told him was so ludicrous. As if YOU were in the wrong for reacting to his provocations, his jealousy, his possessiveness, his intrusiveness. He continues, leaning in to mutter spitefully into your ear,

“You think that you can insult me, spit in the face of my goodwill and treat me like I'm stupid and useless while you're dressed like a fucking, ungrateful whore and…get away with it?”

He lets go of your hair in a swift motion—your head dropping on the table—before his fingers wrap around your neck. His grip was tight yet forgiving as you were allowed the mercy of being able to breathe through the pressure, however strained. Scaramouche’s tone was scathing, and you imagined his expression to be just as condescending.

“Well, I guess that's my fault, isn't it? I was too nice, wasn't I? I suppose it's your big brother's fault for letting you off the hook for so long, so easily, wasn't it?”

He slaps your rear again.

Scaramouche coos, squeezing the fat of your ass. “Well, I ought to apologise for that, yeah, baby sis? I'll take responsibility and teach you a lesson. You'd love that, wouldn't you? For your brother to punish you for being such a bad girl?”

He permits you to speak, loosening his grip on your neck. When he did, you gasped for air while trying to hold back a sob in an attempt to sound firm when you spoke, denying to yourself that he heard when your voice shook, "What the fuck are you doing, you fucking pervert?"

Perhaps the disgust expressed in your tone and on your face would make him falter. Yet…

He doesn't even dignify you with a sign of defensiveness; he had you just where he wanted you, the need to take offence was lost to him, and that scared you. “That's all you have to say for yourself? Don't want to mend your way out of this?”

“I have nothing to apologise for, you petulant, narcissistic baby.”

“If you say so…y'know, I almost felt bad for punishing you, but it seems to me that you're practically begging for it, aren't you?” He snickers, his eyes narrowing as he gazed down at his crotch pressed down against your pussy. Almost lovingly, he was caressing your cheek with his right hand, pinching you hard, causing you to whine before it left your body.“Well, if that's how you'll have it…but just so you know,”

Scaramouche grabs a thick, pink wooden ruler from your desk's surface and double taps your ass with it, causing you to twitch and stiffen, “From here on out, it's big brother to you, okay?”

“Sick pervert-” He taps harder.

“Okay, my whorish, adorable little sister?”

“...okay," all you had to do was to let him get his guard down, right?

He hums, “That'll work for now,” he taps your ass with the ruler with a bit more pressure, “move for me.”

You try to turn your head to look at him, but he presses down on your neck, effectively holding you in place.

“That's not what I want, puppy. I said move.”

“Move? You're in the way!”

“Move in a way I know you’re familiar with, aside from trying to escape your punishment. I'm sure you've done it with your little guy friends, haven't you? Sway those hips for me, pet—you have 4 seconds.”

Your mind went blank, but before you managed to process his command to at least express your utter disgust at what your brother was demanding of you,

“Four seconds…how many hits do you think you deserve?”

“None-”

He wacks you and you flinch, hard.

“Wrong, try again.”

“...four?”

“We'll add two more for the second offence, okay?”

"But I-"

"Ten."

"…What the fuck, Scara-"

"Like I said, you're practically begging for it, I don't have to remind you of how you should refer to me…stop trying to fight back."

Scaramouche brushes your right cheek with the ruler, once, twice. And without another moment to spare, he swats your ass, and you didn't think that it could get any worse than the ones prior, and yet…your body jerks forward against the desk and you wiggle against him.

"Stop it! Why-" he pulls his arm back and lays another one of the same, unforgiving speed and ache. A whine escapes you and your eyes prick with tears.

"Beg, apologise, whine or cry. Otherwise, I'll interpret your words as a plea for more."

And thus, began his assault. He hits you again and again and again without a moment to recuperate, to recover a bit, to get used to it. No, he wanted it to hurt. Your gasps and groans grew louder and louder each time as he swatted one after the other on your increasingly sensitive ass, and all it did was egg him on.

Left, right, left, right.

"Normally when you cry, I find it annoying, y'know?"

You tried to articulate a response of your own but you couldn't find yourself getting used to the buzzing excruciating throb on your bum, you felt as if each swat was throwing your mind off its balance. Scaramouche's laughter did not cease to piss you off, and fucking terrify you. You always banked on the pity and guilt to palliate his punishment, but this time, why did it seem like he was enjoying it? You weren't counting, but you were sure that this was way past ten.

"But like this…you're fucking adorable. You fight back against me so viciously and talk with such a potty mouth, I thought that my adorable little sister from years ago was lost to me…I didn't realise that all it took was to bend you over."

He sighs blissfully, your legs kicking behind you as you try to push back. He didn't reprimand you, he knew that it was only natural.

"Next time you act up, I'll set up a camera, okay?"

"Wha-eek!"

"Just like that, you sound so fucking cute. I love the way you're shrieking and crying, kicking and wiggling under me like that…it takes me back, thought 'punishments' were more innocent back then."

Your cries and snivelling was music to his ears. Scaramouche watched as your rear got redder, more sore, and bruised under his dominance, at some point, he focused more on the right side as he dug his nails into your left, twisting your ass-cheek for the sake of hearing your choke on your sobs. He'd been so focused on your vocal reactions, that it was only a few moments later did he notice the dampness in your underwear. His eyes widen and he ceases his swatting, his brain buzzing.

You sniffle and open your eyes, was it finally over? The thought was thrown out the window when he grinds more rhythmically, intentionally against your clothed pussy, the ruler caressing your ass with an occasional tap.

Before you knew it, he'd pull your panties aside to expose your throbbing pussy, running his fingers along your clit before hovering over your hole. You didn't think that your face could get any hotter and you've never felt so fucking mortified. This was your own brother touching your pussy. You tried to perish the mere thought of you being aroused by this whole ordeal, but the clenching of your walls around nothing and your wetness made it impossible to ignore. He wouldn't ignore it, you will not forget it.

“...you sick fuck.” He laughs, pressing his thumb against your hole that you knew was getting increasingly wetter by the moment. “I knew that I was fucked up in the head but who woulda thought that you would finish just from a little bit of spanking? You enjoyed it?”

“N-no I-”

“Shh, don't lie to me, feel this?” Scaramouche slips a digit into your hole and curls it, and he didn't think that he could get harder before you tightened around him.

“You're so fucking wet, did you feel how easy it was to slip it in?" he inserted a second finger followed by a third, pumping them into you. "It's like you're begging to be filled up, aren't you? You'd like that? Do you want your big brother's cock inside of that cute little hole of yours?”

“No…please—hic—Scara I-”

“I'd like you to shut up and think about what I told you; it's big brother.”

Scaramouche undoes his pants and pulls down his boxers before tapping his aching cock between your raw, sore cheeks.

“Feel that? Tell me, how does it feel?”

“...Heavy, you're so—hic—heavy and hard and—please don't do it, it's-” wrong.

“What, it's immoral? Don't feign innocence here, your pussy is weeping for my cock, isn't it? I'm not even holding you down anymore, now am I? And we both know you've never missed an opportunity to run away from something you didn't like…you want this," he mocks, rutting against you.

“But it'll hurt…”

“I don't want to hear excuses from a cute little slut like you…I wonder how many guys you allowed to use you like this. Do they know how much of a masochist you are?” He aligns the tip at your entrance. “Did they even know how much you enjoyed being played with and treated roughly like a sex toy?"

A moan rumbles in your chest as he pushes his head into you, making circles.

"Oh! Now would you look at that? Did you feel how easily I slipped into you? How does that feel, little sis? How does your brother's cock feel?"

You moan a muffled apology and he lets it slide, reaching his free hand to pinch your puffy clit. Your hips reflexively jerk back in response in a futile attempt to pull away from his touch, and in response he lets go of his dick, smacking your raw ass.

Don't move, he didn't say.

“Did those inexperienced fuckers even know how to pleasure you? Did you fake your orgasms? Or did you come through just fine when they buried their little dicks into you? Did it hurt, love? Did you like it?”

He groans shamelessly, slowly pushing in his dick, mercifully giving you time to adjust as he admired the way your legs quaked and stiffened as he filled you with his length with ease. In his mind, as his balls met your ass as his glans met your cervix, he thought that the two of you were a perfect fit.

You truly were made for him.

He slaps your raw cheek with his palm and whine, "I didn't hear an answer."

"Wh…what?"

Smack!

"Weren't paying attention, were you?"

“Please…”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Please please please,” he mocks. “Do you know how pathetic you sound? Can't you say anything more intelligent than that or is all you know how to do is beg and moan?”

“...B—hic—big brother…”

“Now that's a start, what is it?”

“...please get it over with.”

“Now that sounds better…but I'm sure that there's another way to phrase it, yeah?”

“P-please,” he was about to slap you before he heard you. “Fuck me big brother…please punish me.”

Oh, fuck.

“...now would you look at that," Scaramouche muses. "I didn't know that you can be so…fuck."

He grabs you by the hips and pulls out until only the tip remains and without warning, he slams into you.

“Archons, you're so. Fucking. Wet.” He accentuates each word with a hard thrust before trying to find his rhythm.

“You're loving this…you wanted your brother's cock to be buried into your pussy, right? You wanted me to use you and I know that you wanted me to punish you…that's why you're always provoking me, huh? Always talking to boys and walking home with a new one every week. You wanted to piss me off—haah."

“You were begging for this…I'm sorry, I was dense, wasn't I? I should have–oh, gods–punished you like this sooner. Right, little sis?”

All you could do was mewl and hic, standing on your toes as if you were offering yourself to him. As he rocked you back and forth against your desk, degrading you and fucking up your insides as your needy pussy drooled all over his cock and formed a small puddle on the floor.

He buries his fingers into your hair once more and pulls your head back. Your tears, sweat and saliva streamed down your face, a pool of it where your face lay. Not only were your cries and gasps more coherent, no longer compromised by your face being buried into arms, but you grew whinier, eyes half-lidded as your dribbling tongue lolled past your lips. You were a fucked up, pretty sight for sore eyes and he felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“Now, who does–mmph…oh fuck, haha—this pussy belong to, huh?"

Impatient, he smacks you another three, "Huh, huh, huh?"

You did not know whether or not it was intentional, but the line between pain and pleasure never felt so close and entwined.

“To my big brother! It’s yours!”, you babble.

“What a smart little girl.”

Eventually, Scaramouche abandons the pace he'd set. After all, wasn't this your punishment to begin with? If you came again, he'd get to make fun of you further. If you didn't, then that is for you to settle on your own, no?

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I- ah~ fuck please please please, it's so good I'm gonna cum I'm gonna–” your eyes roll back and your hips buckle against him, white-hot pleasure exploding behind your eyes as you came all over his dick.

And that sight was enough to send him over the edge, he pulled your head back to an unnatural and painful degree, and with one last spank and a final thrust, he buried himself down to the hilt, shooting loads of hot cum into your pussy.

You both were a unit of sloppy messes, panting and sticky with sweat and shared essence, rutting against each other and he bent over, gently letting down your head as he rested his chest against your back, his head over your shoulder.

He pants and moans against your forehead as he plants a kiss on your temple, to which you breathily hum. Your eyes were closed, but you had yet to fall asleep, you intended to move to bed if he let you but at the moment, you were just trying to recuperate, your body still twitching and spasming.

He didn't remove himself from inside of you, perhaps it was the orgasm, but Scaramouche felt the need to express his affection for his little sister a bit more differently. He barely removed his lips from your forehead when he tilted his head, his breath tickling you.

"…You know I love you, right?"

You sniffle, your eyes fluttering open, "I do."

"And that I only did this because I care for you and I missed you, right?"

"Yes…"

You both fell silent, and you didn't know how to describe the absence of noise itself, comfortable? Static? His hand wanders down to your sensitive backside caressing it despite your flinching before sliding down to rub slow, gentle circles into your inner thigh.

"Sca…big brother?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He snorts, "I love you too, little sis."

Author's note: Honestly, a teensy tiny weeny bit unsatisfied, but like, I needed to use the bathroom since 5 years ago right now but I sat here and did this for you😣💓

Hope it was okay, I greatly accept praise. If there are any errors, please point them out to me.

I mean it! Critique and advice is very much welcomed into my asks.

I'm also looking over and editing and screaming and dying rn

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: king!aegon ii targaryen x afab rhaenyra’s child!reader

cw: CANON TYPICAL incest/targcest, boot worship, free use, public, voyeurism/exhibitionism (non con on the guards part 💀), hints of reader being just as much of a weirdo i’m sorry (rhaenyra can’t blame them tho), used a valyrian translator so if there’s any mistakes no there’s not <3, fucking on the iron throne as a celebratory end of work day thing, everything is 100% consensual on reader’s part, one use of “whore”, aegon’s pet names are all food related 🥴 (deadass almost had him call reader beer for the joke)

wc: 888 (🎱✨)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

last hotd fic for a bit bc i’m out of ideas

kinktober masterlist

“Ry paktot, ilagon ao jikagon, jorrāelagon (all right, down you go love).”

You and your uncle Aegon have the strangest end of day ritual. It always starts with you being shoved on your knees, his hands cradling your shoulders to protect you from the sharp iron throne.

All others are sent away from the room, save for a few guards that had been eyeing your body far too much for his liking. You were yet to be married but numerous whispers of your sexual exploits ran through the castle like wildfire. Aegon II Targaryen, was a king that one could not even sneeze in front of for fear of setting him off. So he is careful to keep those shrews' musings away from you, it was a feat of strength to coerce you into being as bold as you are now.

“Come now, elilla (honey). Clean my shoes so i can give your cunt the fucking it deserves.” He orders you, and you are all too eager, especially with the eyes of the uncomfortable guards on you.

You pray to the Gods that Aegon does not catch them looking with their peripheral vision, pausing your fun to murder more of the staff would really rain on your parade.

The shoes of your king are cleaned before you put your tongue to them, something that you’re almost disappointed by at this point. You are tempted to ask him to turn away the shoe shiner for next time.

His crown has the same red haze surrounding it that lives deep within Aegon, and it commands your attention all the same. You let your eyes softly fall shut as you run your wet tongue along the edge of his boot. The metallic tang has become an old friend, as well as any paltry specs of blood you find. You fear that you could possibly develop a craving for it.

You prostrate yourself before your betrothed as if you were a humming bird that had come face to face with Balerion himself. A house kitten mewling for the attention of a tiger. It is not unlike performing a blow job. Your lashes become the sheer curtains you look out of and your mouth fulfills its purpose.

You flatten your tongue and begin to dip into the crevices, getting every inch of his shoes slick with your spit. Aegon has his weeping cock in the firm hold of both of his hands, and he times his strokes to every flick of your tongue.

Your “services” last for what feels like an eternity. Your uncle’s eyes wander to keep the forcibly voyeuristic guards in check. You can hear their feet shuffling on the ground as they squirm behind you, and Aegon is so pleased by this that he returns his attention to his beloved pet.

“Prūbres (apple), that is quite enough. Come back up, darling.” He says while gingerly rubbing the heel of his boot into your cheek.

“Yes, qȳbor (uncle).”

You clamor into his lap, taking the initiative by lifting your previously stretched hole over his cock. One of his hands claws into the flesh of your hip to steady you, and the other positions his cock upright. Once you get past the pink tip, your walls are snugly wrapped around his entire length in seconds. You both groan as he bottoms out. Aegon wastes no time and digs his nails into your other hip, lifting you off of his cock until the tip catches against your entrance and swiftly dropping you back down.

“My whore, a jewel worth more than any found in my crown.” The word comes out between gritted teeth, but the thumb drawing loose circles on your pearl is kinder. “Not one of those filthy dogs will ever know the pleasure of a cunny as sweet as the one made for me.”

“They will not.” You whined, relishing in the red marks his nails were no doubt leaving on your jiggling ass as you bounced on his girthy cock. “Only you, qȳbor (uncle), only my king. They could hang for all I care.”

You have an awful habit for letting words flow from your mouth with no thought of their consequences. It’s not your fault though, you muse as Aegon scratches at your moving globes of flesh, your cunt takes priority more often than not. You ignore the spark that ignites in his soul at the foolish declaration.

His thumb stops teasing your clit and rubs it harshly up and down until your rapid bouncing ceases in favor of chasing that high. He only has to spank you a single time for you to shatter around his cock with an angelic and blissfully soft moan. You let your torso fall to his and you bury your face in his neck as his other hand travels to grope your other ass cheek.

Aegon spills into you with an embarrassingly long and loud groan, licking at the pulse point of your neck as he fucks himself into overstimulation. This is the only time he will allow the guards to drink your sex in, so they can gawk at the pure amount of spend that leaks out of your ravaged cunny. He pretends not to notice or enjoy the stares, spreading your fat cheeks to give them a better view.

“Leave us be.”

[barleyo]

678-999-8212.

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: part two for my last fic!! ermmmm once again ily if you know the title's reference :3 this is a short addition too but idk i don't think part one required a super long part two! please read the tags, leon is mean in this one :c

Part One: here

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (21-50s), degradation, choking, hate-sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, non-con, striking/smacking of the face, alcohol mention

Wordcount: 1k

Leon had never driven this fast before. To hell with every red light in his way, he needed to get home. Foot sat firmly on the gas pedal, inching further and faster the more he thought about the series of events that led him here. 

His daughter was an absolute slut. How many men had you 'entertained' like that before? How many filthy calls had you made to men who were possibly even older than himself? More than that— how had he fallen into your trap? 

He made a silent promise to himself to put the bottle down, seeing as it left him in that situation. A promise that was an empty one, but it offered him solace in the moment as he pulled into his driveway. 

Leon's feet struggled against the pavement. He was still unbearably drunk and dizzy, now with added anger and unfounded horniness. He felt gross, disgusted by the erection popping in his slacks, but he couldn't help it. He was fathering a damn siren, and god did you know what you were doing. Your sickening voice, overly sweet moans, and your slick and noisy cunt that cried for him over the phone. It was all too much.

"You fucking slut!"

Leon had never been a rough dad. He wasn't a yeller, not one for heavy discipline. After his unfortunate discovery about you, though? He was quick to slam the front door shut and run up the stairs, feet clashing against each step with a violent speed. 

Whatever you had been watching on your television was quickly shut off when you heard his tone. You scampered under your blankets and feigned sleep. You had zero clue what he was on about, but you knew it would turn ugly just by the sheer anger in his voice. He couldn't yell at a sleeping beauty like you, could he? 

Yes, obviously he could and would. Stubborn old man.

"I know you aren't asleep," Leon spat, ripping the covers off of you. You stayed still, breath pausing in your chest. "Don't act innocent, brat."

Fine, so there was no escaping this. Damn it, what was this all about?

You begrudgingly relented and opened your eyes. Arms crossed defensively over your chest, an equal mix of fear and discomfort on your face as you scanned over your dad. 

You took in everything about him. His eyebrows were drawn together. His jaw was clenched tight enough that you thought it could pop at any minute. Fists balled up at his sides. Eyes dark. Dick hard— oh. Oh?

"You wanna tell me what you were doing earlier? Any specific calls y'made?" 

"Say it."

You had never heard your father speak so roughly, and anything close to the tone he used was never directed towards you. You were his sweet girl, daddy's baby forever. Now, though, each slam of his hips into yours made you feel like a cheap whore. 

"It's not true," you said. "I'm not a slut! I'm not, I promise."

You felt his large hand's grip over your neck tighten. Tears were threatening to spill, to run down your red, stinging cheek where the mark of his hand was freshly placed. You held it in. Daddy told you not to cry, that you had no right to. 

"Was just a mistake. I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, real convincing." Leon sneered down at you. It stung more than the unrelenting thrusts, more than the way his palm met your cheek. He never looked at you like that, like you were nothing. You wanted it to stop. "I didn't raise you to be a whore. You think you're fuckin' grown, huh? Showing off for whoever rings you up like some call-center bitch?"

You wanted to kick and cry, but the words stopped in your chest. Shameful wails sprouted from you. It was all true, every word he said.

"I just wanted attention," you were finally able to make out, despite the ever firmness of his hand around your throat. "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Promise."

Deep down, Leon felt awful for treating you like this. He tried to reason with himself. You needed to learn. How could you learn from a 'mistake,' as you called it, without a proper punishment? He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it. He couldn't have a whore-daughter, at least not such a shameless one. 

"Yeah? How's it feel now? You're getting all the attention you want now. Not enough for you, greedy bitch?"

Thankfully for you, he released you from the chokehold he had you in. He internally winced at the already forming bruise he left. His hands found your lower stomach and he pushed down. Hard. 

"There you go. Feel every bit of my cock."

God, he was so mean. His head knocked into your cervix roughly, no regard for your pleasure. It hurt, but the friction of his girthy cock dragging against your abused walls helped a little. 

Small flutters of pleasure peaked through the rough treatment, making it semi-worth it. Maybe if you came, if you focused real hard on getting over the edge, then maybe you could forget his awful words.

He wasn't nearly that nice, though. He kept grumbling under his breath, spitting out vile insults about you. Even as his voice cracked, he couldn't help but let his hips stutter forwards into you, whispering the harshest things. 

With a final, especially rough thrust, he came. He didn't bother to pull out, he didn't even try. Rather, he burrowed further into your sore walls and marked you with his seed, claiming you like the territory you were. 

As you tried to pull away, feeling utterly used and unsatisfied, you felt his strong arms yank you back. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

His face softened a little. Good, at least he wasn't scowling at you any more. 

"We aren't done...?"

"Not even close." He pushed your legs back, resting them over his shoulders. "Whores don't get breaks. We aren't done until I'm good and fucking satisfied."

He leaned down, dipping his head so he could spit. He watched the dribble of saliva coat your hole. 

"If you aren't gonna be my good girl anymore, the least you could do is put out."

[cosmiceres]

Big brother dressing me up as his pretty little doll, keeping me nice and pretty for him to use whenever he wants <3 don’t need to think because big brother says pretty little dolly’s have no reason to hnggggggffg

Dress me up and make me cockwarm you, big bro

[v1nth3chaotick1d]

I'm sorry- wtf-

This is concerning like-

Really

REALLY

Concerning-

If any of my followers or moots follow/support ANY of this, Get off my blog and NEVER come back, Ew.

[incidentallysunny]

I Was Never There.

Death Island Leon x Reader

Real!Dad Leon

Dead dove warning.

13k word count. Proof read 3 times until I got to around 11k then I stopped worrying and just skimmed. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

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

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

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, mentions of oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, any probably some other irrelevant shit I’m forgetting my b.

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

The drive from your college town to where your home had been all your life was as expected. Nostalgia and homesickness being mixed in your gut like a can of paint in one of those weird machines at the hardware store that your dad would take you to. Speaking of dad, you hardly remember him. He was present for a short while, your mom always excusing his absence with work this and work that. He really did get busy, though. Almost dying several times. You still remember your moms panicked phone calls, her countless prescription drugs for the same problems you now suffer from, and her late-night bathroom breakdowns. Apparently he couldn’t get out of this job though. Some real fucked up government shit he was tied to, your mom explained. All you know about him is that he saved the president’s daughter. Whatever.

So yeah- a perfect life with a perfect set of parents. One being mentally driven through the dirt and the other that you haven’t seen in 8 years or maybe more. You can’t seem to remember if the last few times you saw your dad were daisied dreams or reality. Bastard has never FaceTimed or video called you, either. Dunno if he even had a phone capable of that. Either way, it must be for the better, because your grades had been sufficient without stressors on your mind. And we all know a low-effort dad would definitely be one. But perhaps he’d rather just be there in person. Older people are like that.

You grunted, trying to drag your over-packed suitcase up the steep suburban driveway before sighing and standing in place. Sure, you didn’t need to bring so much shit home, but would you really want to risk some bitch at college stealing anything from your quad-dorm?

Before you could think and figure out how you’d even get the plastic luggage up the pristine, hand-painted porch steps and inside (without scratching them up and having your parents on your ass about their perfect house having a flaw) a voice called out to you. Unrecognized and not ringing any of the bells in your head. (If there were any left)

“Hey there, sweetheart. It’s been a while, huh?”

You turned to see a middle-aged man, similar to the last memory of your dad that had been printing-pressed into your mind for safe keeping. He was just emerging from the front door, broad chest accentuated by a well-fitted T-shirt. You immediately felt angry that his tits were bigger than yours. Would probably look better with a bra, too.

You didn’t answer.

Fuck- nerves were getting the better of you. Your palms were slick with sweat and you didn’t know if it was from the building summer humidity or anxiety. Was this normal? No the fuck it wasn’t.

“Uhh.. dad?” You queried- almost certain the gorgeous man at the door was just a hotter, older version of your dad and not actually him. The fuck is wrong with you? You’re getting this worked up over your father? Did college drinking really rewire your brain to be this fucked or is it all of the anxiety meds? Maybe both. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because you rarely saw him and have zero attachment.

“Yeah, it’s me. Your old man. Missed you, kiddo.” There’s a pause for a moment- because you’re not sure why he’s talking so casually as if you see each other every weekend- like it hasn’t been years and years since you’ve seen him.

“Don’t remember me,huh?” He laughs satirically- like you’re supposed to be so sure. It makes you slightly furious and the feeling of anger bubbles up again- replacing any strange thoughts you were having moments ago.

No, my apologies dearest dad. I totally recognize you despite having met you enough times to count on almost two hands.

But the better part of you that managed to exist underneath the scores of problems you had just replied in jest- like someone without said scores of problems. It was best to keep the peace for now.

“You look a little different… sorry.” Is that all you can manage? It’s pitiful the state that your sullied mind is in.

He chuckles, though, like he knows your’re right. The sound is more pleasant and striking when it’s genuine. Makes you feel damp in other areas than just your armpits (thank you, heatwave).

“I suppose there’s truth to that. But It’s alright, sweetheart. I know it’s been a long time. People change, right?” His eyes scan you in an undecided way.

“But you, shit. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. College treating you well?” His words sound a little huffed then, he’s clearly beating around the bigger issue with a stick. But him calling you beautiful and being all fucking sappy makes your face feel hot and sticky like it’ll melt off. Got you wanting to rip the hair from your scalp to hear him say it again.

“Please?” You called out gently- gesturing to the suitcase and ignoring any other question. You were very much overstimulated- having overexerted muscles in your arms by being a weak bitch about a crammed carry-on. Just get your ass out here and help your daughter, thanks.

He shook his head- again laughing hotly while looking down as he stepped off the porch- his brown bangs were peppered with greys and they brushed his face on one side, his hair somehow pornographic on its own. Christ. He looked like one of those men you saw on Viagra commercials that obviously didn’t actually need it. Even the sight of your perfectly trimmed lawn and faux-looking home completed the scene. Where was the camera?

He walked over to you- there was a slight stiff in his stride; like he had a bad back or something. Maybe he did. Almost dying was the likely cause for that. Serves him right for leaving you with issues on top of issues. Maybe you should stop being mean, you’re the one getting hot over your own father. Again- because of him. Circle back to square one.

Leon towered over your frame as he hinged at the hips, picking up the suitcase with ease- the muscles in his arm flexed with each small movement. His face was a tinge of smug with a mix of something else…satisfaction? Maybe he was just pleased he was able to lift it without rupturing a hernia. Jesus Christ, his veins. You wonder if he has them anywhere else. No- maybe you should be wondering about taking your ass to an inpatient facility immediately. A few screws are loose and you don’t exactly have the tools to tighten them.

“I guess college did treat you well. You’re here in one piece.” He says- cutting you thickly from your thoughts and answering his own question from earlier. His blue eyes are sweet and gently lined with signs of aging. Which only makes him hotter- just like the fiery pits of hell that await you.

You scoff.

“Well, it’s not like I went to war or something.”

“Still. It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.” The word rolls off his tongue again. Your insides are trapezing around in their own miniature, fleshy circus- you’re wishing you could stab yourself in the stomach to stop the swarm of butterflies that don’t even feel metaphorical anymore. You’re sure they’re real now.

He continues, though.

“I know I haven’t been around much in your life- this fucking job and-“ You stare up at him- glossy doe-eyes and stupid look on your face. An apology- or even an explanation from your daddy might be part of what your scrambled brain needs.

“Work kept me away, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you every day. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. Shit… What I mean to say, is- things will be different. I’ve retired. Your mother wanted me to tell you over dinner later but I figured you’d be happy to know. I’m not the best at keeping secrets.” He jokes at the end, but how is that true in the slightest? He’s kept his job a secret for your entire life, so he clearly can’t be that horrible at it.

“Oh.” Leaves your lips quietly, ghosting over Leon and leaving him wondering if he said something wrong. But then he realizes it’s probably just overwhelming for you. The worst part of him thinks you hate him. A feeling overcomes you though, and you rush in to wrap your arms around his waist- hugging him tightly. You now wonder why he didn’t hug you to begin with. Maybe he wasn’t an affectionate guy.

He says nothing at first- he’s even more awkward than you are if it’s possible. But he’s trying. He sets down your suitcase before returning your hold. One arm comes around the back of you and the other is overlapped on top- a hand nestling on the back of your head. Seems he’s getting a bit emotional, too. The attention from him is nice, though.

When you make a small grunt as to wanting to end the hug, his hands linger on your shoulders and he smiles at you. You actually return to, not feeling anything horrid become of your thoughts right now. Whether it be anger or incestual lust.

—

Your dad pushes the front door open with one of his large hands encased on the knob. Hands you immediately find attractive, wondering if they’d feel nice scissoring your cunt open. You now begin to understand why your mom was getting suicidal over him possibly not returning home. You’d kill yourself over him too. But that’s too morbid- especially after the moment you just shared.

That’s already lost to you.

He shut the door firmly, sighing, then gestures to the stairs.

You went up first, self conscious about your backside being right in front of his view but he was your dad. Wouldn’t be looking at you that way. You’re just brain-rotted and have an ill opinion of men.

Your old bedroom still looked the same, basically. Just emptier and more hollow without your things. But the walls were still painted a babydoll-pink and lined with the few girlish decorations you left on the wall. No way you would have been caught dead with those in your dorm. Not unless you wanted to endure torment and bullying that’d lead you to jumping off the dormitory roof.

He sets your luggage down and takes a seat on your bed. A groan escapes him as he puts a hand on his lower back for a moment.

“I see this room hasn’t changed much, has it?” he muses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Your mom and I had a blast putting it together for you when she was pregnant.”

Yikes. You almost feel guilt for both the incestuous thoughts and the fact you may have ruined your parents' marriage. Maybe that’s not true. It was his work- not you. After all, he’s insinuating how happy they were to have you brought into this world. Plus- they were fine. Never argued or anything.

“I’m sorry. I dont- I don’t know what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, throwing your hands slightly up by your side.

His face doesn’t drop, though. It seems he understands perfectly fine.

“It’s okay. We can start from scratch. Not talk about… your room or childhood stuff. I know it’s a sore spot for you, sweetheart.”

Wrong. It’s more like a festering wound with the rusted knife still wedged in it. The knife being Leon and the wound your daddy issues, by the way. And having no attachment to him as a father figure makes the attraction worse. Notably when he calls you any term of endearment. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

What the fuck. Was he sculpted by Satan himself as some kind of hell-on-earth punishment? Is this purgatory? Everything he did now was driving you up the wall like a roach- every movement and small flex showing a vein or bulge of muscle. And his arm hair didn’t help. Fucking Christ- shave it off or something. You don’t know how you’ll be able to stand it.

“Okay…. How does that work?” You cocked your head to the side a little, shifting your weight onto one leg. A nervous habit.

“Well- what do most parents do with their kids? We could go out for dinner, catch a movie, just… hang out. I’d like to spend time with my daughter, you know.”

Okay, so maybe he did care. That’s a start.

“Uh… all three?” You questioned, an eyebrow lifting along with the infliction of your voice towards the end of your sentence. You’re indecisive like your mom.

He smiled, lines and the corners of his mouth pressed. Happy. Something you heard wasn’t common for him, anyways.

“Of course. We can go out tomorrow, honey. Your mom just wants us to all have dinner together when she gets home. She missed you- not as much as I did, I bet.” He does that stupid fucking wink again. It makes you switch emotions and want to throw something at his head. Maybe your lamp. You feel bad, It’s not his fault you’re acting like a mental freak about him. You don’t even bother to fixate on the fact you’ll have to have dinner with your cunt of a mom. Okay, maybe that’s harsh.

“Okay.” You breathe out, looking around your room. Leon takes that as a cue to stand up from your old bed- the thing creaking from his weight and leaving an indent on your comforter.

“It’s a date, then. I’m going to start dinner. As much as I love your mother, she can be…scary.” He says, still rocking that pressed-in-cheek smile and cracking your door closed behind him. By the way, what he really meant was probably ‘bitchy’- not scary. But dad seems too kind to say that. He loves your mom.

You can breathe again without his presence. It was smothering, like you had to overperform. You find yourself rushing to your dresser mirror to check how you looked. Hair looks great, face too- though a little tired from college over-studying and then driving 4 hours home with no break.

You might as well write ‘whore’ on your mirror with lipstick. Or a marker- since that’s a more permanent reminder with the way you’re acting. But part of you wanted to know what he thought of you- how he perceived you. For now though, it doesn’t matter. Had barely been 15 minutes since you arrived. You turn your attention to your suitcase and push it over flat, unzipping it before the teeth give out and some of your things spill from inside.

You had less than a sufficient amount of energy to care about it being broken now- so you just put your things away quickly before plopping onto the bed and indulging your senses with the smell of the floral detergent your mom always used on your sheets.

—

It’s some time later when you’re abruptly awoken by your moms manicured hand shaking you awake by the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping when you could be spending time with your father. He was excited for you to be home.”

‘Way to wake me up.’ You thought. She was always having a stick up her ass about this kind of thing. Or anything, really..

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Besides, we’re going out tomorrow to do a bunch of stuff.” You argue sleepily, sitting up as your back aches with your vision still adjusting. She cuts on the lamp, sizzling your retinas.

Her face perks up but is pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, okay..” silence.

“I’m sorry, honey. It was just a long day at work and I’m just over-the-moon for you two to finally have some daddy-daughter time.”

You wrinkle your face in disgust, but not fully disgust since you were just fawning over your hot dad earlier. Maybe daddy doesn’t sound so bad.

“Ew- mom. He’s just my dad. I’m not five.” She laughs, waving her hand off at you.

“Well anyhow- come down for dinner, will you? He put in a lot of effort to cook something for us.”

You cursed under your breath and straighten out your shirt- hoping she wouldn’t bitch about it being slightly wrinkled from you sleeping in it. You seat yourself at the table- adjacent from your mother sitting at the end. She’s already changed out of her office clothes and sure enough, here comes your daddy dad from the kitchen with utensils.

“Sorry ladies- almost forgot these.” He laughs, placing down everyone’s set before seating himself next to you. Fuck.

“You know- your father has only been home a few months and he’s already shown the extent of his memory loss.” She jokes, giving him a loving yet teasing look that makes you want to vomit. And yet jealousy curls up like a cat in your lap, wanting to be lavished with attention from you. The metaphorical jealousy pounces off your lap as you’re met with your dad’s hand on your denim-clad thigh. It’s an innocent gesture but you want to his hand to go further than just sitting politely.

“She’s right, but I can be useful otherwise.” He’s bantering back with her- and you realize he’s making an innuendo when you look over at his face. But it’s weird that he’s saying it while his digits cradle your thigh so gently.

“Gross.” You take a bite of your food- momentarily shocked that a dad of any sort could make such a pleasant meal, especially when he’s spent such little time doing domestic duties.

“Oh honey- you’re grown. We’re just teasing each other.” Your mom nods to Leon, taking a bite off of her fork. His hand slides off of your thigh and he grabs his whiskey glass to take a proper sip.

Jeez, he drinks that shit like its water. No grimacing. No face was made when he swallowed it. Just a guy thing you suppose.

Dinner drags on- the both of them forcing you to talk about your less-than-thrilling college experience. No mom, no boyfriend. No dad, I’m not failing. No you two, I’m not having unprotected sex- fuck off.

After that eventful meal and conversation where your parents basically eye-fucked each other over dinner, you’re left to clean up the mess while your mom gets ready for bed. She has to leave for work early in the morning- as usual. Guess she’s going to take your dad’s spot for the absent parent now that you’re grown and traumatized full and proper.

-

Sleep came and went- leaving you to trudge out of bed and do your morning routine. It felt out of place trying to do it back at home- but it was also a sentimental feeling to be doing just that.

Leon is already in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking. Seems impractical, but holy fuck. You’d gorilla glue your eyelids open just to not miss a single second of what you’re seeing. Maybe that wasn’t needed- because you've been staring long enough that your eyes prick with tears. You remind yourself to blink and you seat yourself at the high-top, the stool swiveling slightly when your bottom meets the material.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He asks, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His traps are distracting you. You want to chew your fingernails past the nail bed- bite a finger off too. You can’t stand it. For a moment- the way he talks to you- you’re pretending you’re not his daughter. And then a moment later, you’re not being delusional anymore.

“Mhm.” You mumble sleepily- wishing you’d have stayed in bed longer. But piercing morning light, lack of blackout curtains, and the chirping of birds outside made that idea inconceivable. Leon chuckled to himself- turned away from you.

You decide to scroll through your phone for a moment’s time before he slides a plate to you from across the island.

“Breakfast a la Leon.” He says- clearly being silly. Corny as fuck, anyways.

“You’re old.” You snort, setting aside your phone and grabbing a fork to pick at your food until he turns away again. You didn’t enjoy the idea of having a hot, shirtless man watching you eat.

He shakes his head, sitting down next to you at the island.

Christ. Fucking go away. It’s actually enraging now.

You want to scream at him- it’s irrational and crazy- but you do. Screaming at him and being sent away to a ward sounds more appealing than the anxiety crawling up your spine like a horde of fire ants. Potentially- just like the butterflies- they’re real too.

He seems undisturbed as he settles- taking a bite. You do the same- trying to ignore the fact he's so close you can nearly feel his arm hair touching you every second or so. He breaks the silence after a moment.

“So- after this, I’ve got a whole day planned out. Mall, movies, and dinner. Sound good?” You nod, a soft ‘mhm’ reverberating on the roof of your mouth.

He finishes before you and makes his way upstairs- the occasional pain in his back unmistakeable every few steps. And yet he wants to take you to the mall to walk around? You didn’t even know how to feel about a day with your dad. What’s a dad? What’s daddy-daughter bonding? That’s lost to you- well- more like it was never even discovered. Not even Columbus could have ventured out and conquered it.

Since he’s no longer in the room, you hastily eat the rest of your breakfast before you discard the plate and fork into the way-too-elaborate dishwasher your mom had installed (you totally didn’t spend 10 minutes trying to turn it on).

Back in your room, you settle on a simple, totally not underlyingly slutty outfit. Shorts and a crop top. Can never go wrong with that. It’s just soft/core prom enough for an outing with your dad. When you leave your room- Leon is just headed down the stairs. He turns to look at you, his smile is as jovial as it has been since you’ve seen him. For a moment though, you think you catch his eyes landing on your exposed legs- but you know you’re just crazy. You’re the one lusting after him, not the other way around. Your dad isn’t abnormal like you. His head is on correctly- even if it’s been battered and spun on his shoulders throughout the years.

“Ready?” He asks, stopping in place to wait for you. You nod stupidly, breaking from your trance to follow him in a descent down the stairs.

He’s dressed similar to how he was yesterday- jeans and a t-shirt that should be considered indecent. If you were your mom, you’d beg him to wear something that doesn’t highlight every curve and dip of his chest. Hell, if you were your mom, you’d never let him go outside. Too risky. But you’re not your mom. You’re just unusual.

As a perfect man does, he opens the door for you. Then opens the SUV door, allowing you in before shutting it behind. You’re sure you've never met a guy that does that in real life, but maybe it was a ‘you’ problem and not the guy. Who knows.

When he gets in, he cranks the vehicle only for rock music to start playing from the radio- making the corners of his mouth dimple with a pleased look. Really are the simple things for him. As for you, you’re suffocated in a Hellish torment by both his presence and the expensive scent of cologne and leather seats combo.

The ride isn’t long, nor bad. Albeit you two only talk here and there so he can focus on the road- and so you can focus on not dying (he’s not a perfect driver, but not terrible either). Just enough to keep your nerves teetering between a light anxiety attack and full blown panic.

You’re relieved to get there alive. Maybe not. Your thoughts have you thinking suicide may be your only option for now disgusting they are. And it only gets worse when he helps you down from the step up of the SUV- a hand on your exposed waist and the other on your shoulder. It’s harmless. Just a dad being gentlemanly. He was shaped and carved out in that perfect, chivalrous image with only a mallet and hammer. No reason to make it weird.

Inside the mall is a tad busy- the perfect amount to be comforting. You feel a bit more at ease in a public setting since you can now focus on anything but your dad’s chest. As long as he doesn’t require eye contact or talk to you, that is.

He looks around, arms crossed. It’s almost whorish. He has to know his arms look good. Or that his everything looks good. The fuck.

“So…” He cranes his head to the side, bangs brushing over his nose for a moment. The way he looks around makes his Adam’s apple and neck muscles a little more prominent. A perfect, stubbled spot to attack with your lips.

“What do you feel like doing first, kiddo?”

You. Is what you want to say.

He looks back to you, smiling down amused. He seems genuinely happy to be able to take you out. But really- his face is making you nauseous. Obviously not because it’s bad. But because it’s good-bad. Too good it’s bad.

“Uhh… “ you look away from him, scanning the entrance area and looking at any signs. Almost like an escape.

“How about new clothes maybe? Seems like something got ahold to the other half of your pants anyways.” He nudges you with an elbow, gesturing to your shorts with his head.

So he probably did look at your legs earlier. Maybe not in the way you think, though.

You glare at him.

“Seriously?”

Leon puts his hands up in defense. He’s always on the defense in life anyways.

“Joking, joking. You’re…grown.” His forehead lines crease when he raises his brows. You did get rather annoyed at his comment, however.

“I could always buy some even shorter.” You spit sarcastically.

“Yes- because every father wants to walk around with their daughter who has her ass out.” He’s quick to remark, this time he seems grumpier when he talks. Sorta like he’s uncomfortable with the conversation. Or that he’s mad.

“Sorry my legs make you so uncomfortable. I guess I should’ve left them at home.” The back and forth here could go on forever between you two but he catches you off guard.

“Shit- no. It’s not that- ‘s just you’ve got nice legs. Can’t have these…shitheads eying down my little girl. I may be old, but I can fight when I need to.”

You know he meant his words innocently enough, but the fact that he said nice legs has you giddy inside. Same feeling when your crush calls you pretty. Yeah- that sorta feeling. And his little girl. It has a ring to it. Could even legally change your name to it so that he can call you by it more often. Maybe he’ll even let you jump on his dick right away.

Your face is pure rose-shaded. A perfect, neutral shade to make your embarrassment pop on your skin. You’re sure it’s visible to him, too. Your mom always teased you about how blotchy it would get when you were humiliated. Particularly when she would tell awkward stories about you at family dinners. Bitch.

“What’s wrong? Don’t be pissed at me, sweetheart. I was just teasin-“

“It’s not that.” You interrupt- heart thumping into your rib cage. If it doesn’t stop, or you don’t stop your word-vomit, it might crack a rib or four. Probably more. Better have hospital bill and therapy money ready, dad.

“Then what’s the matter? I just want us to have a good time together. I’m not trying to upset y-“

“You said I have nice legs.” You’re quick to cut him off again.

“And…?” He trails off, cocking his head to the side like he’s confused. Because he is confused. You stare off to the side- eyes glued to the fountain. Maybe you could go drown yourself in the penny-flavored water that you guarantee hasn’t been changed out since you were still the unlucky sperm in your dad’s ball-sack.

“I like that. You saying that.” You speak a little lower now- afraid someone will hear. Or because the tinnitus is so loud in your ears. What you’re getting at is almost clear now. Or at least clear enough.

Leon’s expression is taken aback but still confused to an extent because he’s not even certain what you’re saying. Though, he has an idea.

“Oh- uh. Okay. Sweethea-“

“Holy fuck- stop calling me that. You’re not making this easy. Wanting to fuck you. I know- I sound mental.” You spill it out, guts on the floor and the sword still in hand. Holy shit. Just told your dad you want to fuck him. You could have backtracked- fucking dumbass. You won’t be shocked if he packs his bags and leaves off again tomorrow.

He’s silent for a moment.

“Okay- clearly I wasn’t around enough. I get that. But I mean- fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking around. Probably thinking the same thing about the fountain that you did. Still- he looked hot while having a crisis and contemplating immediate suicide. He paces while your nerves are being electrocuted in your body. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Just- sweetheart, no. None of that’s.. I can’t.” He starts, turning back to you. It seems he can look you in the eyes now. So maybe he’s not entirely disgusted by you. His face isn’t contorted with disgust, so there’s a chance. Yeah, you’re off your rocker now. You know.

“Look- let’s not talk about this. C’mon. Let’s go catch a movie like I promised.” He starts walking- leaving you standing in a puddle of shame and embarrassment for a moment before stopping to let you catch up.

Luckily- the theater is joined to the mall. It’ll be a short walk.

—

Leon is lax on the couch until he hears the crunchy sound of tires on concrete. You’re home. Despite his shitty back, he's huffing as he gets up fast and is already opening the door. The air is hot as it greets his skin and he watches you struggle with your suitcase through the heat-haze that spans over the distance.

He calls out to you- making your head snap in his direction. Your face is that of awe and confusion. You don’t seem to immediately recognize him- okay. He gets it. It’s been a while. Nevertheless, you’re beautiful. He’d seen pictures of you from your mother, but he’s in awe just as you are. Though, he doesn’t think that highly of himself so he often wonders if you’re even his kid. Couldn’t have made something that perfect, in his mind. He helps you with your bag and follows you to your room. But your demeanor around him is noticeably mousey. At first, it doesn't seem like much. You’re just getting used to him.

Plus, Leon knows he can come off intimidating. Sometimes. But for him, he’s got a good eye and his job has led him to being able to read even the tiniest bits of body language. Doesn���t take him long to see how you’re worming around shyly- subconsciously smoothing your hair down and biting at your lip. Same way your mom acted around him before they started dating. But again- maybe it’s just in his head. Leon’s been wrong a time or two.

A better man would have left it alone. Leon gets that. But an innocent thigh squeeze at dinner can help him test his theory. A thigh squeeze that’s under the guise of friendly, fatherly touch. You tense- he can hear your small, sucked in breaths as long as his hand is there, along with heat radiating off your body like a wildfire. If wildfires could be horny college-aged daughters with daddy issues, that is.

The idea disgusts him. Because he should feel disgusted and just kill himself. Where did these thoughts come from? He even has the urge to let his hand wander other places. Bets that you have a cute pussy. No matter what it does or doesn’t look like, it’s yours and he knows it's cute. He’d give you two thick digits in your hole (three if you allow him) and have his tongue kitten-lick your clit.

“There we go. Good girl.” Is what he envisions saying before diving back in for a mouth full of you. Girls like you love being praised. Especially by their estranged father-figure or a middle aged man. It’s all the same. He’d pry the daddy issues right out of you with his dick. It’s long and fat enough, and solves all of his matters properly. Your mom is in a bad mood? His dick will fix that. He can’t sleep? His dick will fix that. His daughter is a horny freak and begging for it? His dick will fix that, too- obviously.

It’s only when your mom makes some stupid fucking joke about his memory loss that he snaps back into reality and he loses the momentum he had going for an erection. Which is good. Maybe thinking about fucking your mom will make him normal again. So he drops a quip right back- something about… being useful. Yeah. Again, his cock is useful. Your mom bites at his words, but you’re annoyed and disgusted with his comment- especially with his hand on you while he says it.

Trust me, baby. Much rather be splitting you open than having performative, mandatory spousal sex. It’s like a switch flipped. He’s not interested in your mom. Should’ve had that realization years ago, even. Technically he did. He’s just now saying it in his head finally. Mostly he was exhausted because she had nothing to do with Leon even when he was home (unless it was for dick). Too bad he was a golden retriever following after her every step like a good doggy. Marriage did that to a guy. He just did what he was supposed to. Kept the lights on, blew out her back occasionally, listened to her complain, and took care of the lawn when he could. Easy enough. That’s what men do, right? He doesn’t really know what being a man is, honestly. Thanks, Major Krauser. Anyhow- he chokes down his food with a smile. The need to upchuck after everything he just thought up is a given.

He takes the liberty to fuck your mom later that night as promised per (faux) flirting over dinner. He has her face down-ass up, though. For… imagination’s sake. At least fucking a pussy and imagining you is better than his hand and imagining you. Or so he tells himself. Call it killing two birds with one stone, satisfying your mom and quelling his own desires. And it’s not hard to imagine any of it, because you look so much like your mother. He lies awake for a short while after- contemplating his existence and fucked up thoughts. He’s still holding back vomit and the urge to grab his gun from the nightstand and off himself all over the wallpaper, while in the process, traumatizing your mom. After an hour of this- he figures it’s fine, men think of perverted or weird shit sometimes. Jerk off to weird shit too. He hasn’t technically done anything morally wrong… sort of. It’s denial. At least he’s good at playing the part of a genuine, loving father. Because he is! He loves his family. Always has!

Spending time with you would make you happy, him happy, your mom happy. He loves you dearly. All is great. He’s swearing that his brain won’t be smoothied in his skull by tomorrow. It’ll be normal and function rationally.

But Leon wakes up with the thoughts being real as ever while he stretches an arm out to feel around for your mother- bed empty since she leaves at the ass crack of dawn. Leon had just missed her leave, he’s still getting used to sleeping in ever since he retired.

He gets up and heads downstairs- immediately starting breakfast to take his mind off his…mind. Breakfast is his favorite meal of the day, it makes him feel better to indulge in it right now. Though, he doesn’t bother putting a shirt on at any point- just rocking those generic, green and blue tartan patterned pajama pants. Cooking shirtless is weird- but he’s hungry and part of him wonders if he’ll get to see your priceless face when you walk into the kitchen. He shakes his head- telling himself that he just had this talk with himself last night. None of that shit.

He was right about one thing. God, he could make a killing in betting. He sees your reflection behind him in the small window above the counter but you didn’t know that. Just stood, gawking. It’s okay. He’s observative, you’re not. You’re his dumb little girl. Dumb in the way you shift in your stool next to him when he sits down, dumb how you hold your breath when he’s near, dumb how you can’t even eat next to him, and dumb how your thighs seem to wriggle when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushes yours. Oh, he’s definitely not wrong.

Still- he knows when to back off. He hounds down his food, before you even make a dent in your plate, and heads upstairs to shower. He’s analyzing every detail of himself, contemplating how he can get under your skin the most- his knuckles gripping the sink with distaste for himself. Because it’s wrong. He’s acting like a teenager. This is a date with his daughter, not his highschool girlfriend.

Leon skips over shaving his face. Likes to keep it a little grown out but not too much so. Just in case he gets the chance to eat (your) pussy or kiss (your) a neck. Then comes the Dior ‘Sauvage’ body wash he never failed to keep with him. He takes pride in smelling good if anything. And this particularly expensive wash, plus the cologne, was his lifeline for that. When he traveled for work- the D.S.O. better have god damned had some sent to his room as courtesy. Ever since Raccoon City- he’s adamant about not smelling less than great. He swears he can still smell the sewer on himself sometimes, even if it’s not really there.

His hair routine was even more extensive and involved a weekly hair mask. Hey- it wasn’t wrong for a guy to have nice hair. It paid off.

Heat protectant, blow dry, hot-comb to get any cow licks or fly-aways he might have- though it’s unlikely- and a little spritz of biotin spray to keep it healthy and shiny. All of that in reasonable time, too. And no- it's not weird for him to spend longer on his hair than your mom does.

Besides, you seem to appreciate the way he looks when you come out of your bedroom- watching him descend the stairs. Leon looks back at you- eyes on your legs momentarily then coming back up. He knows it was a quick look- quick enough to make you question it. You do. Very much. Still, taking you out in public wearing those shorts is less than ideal for him, but he’s the one who needs to be watched closely. Aforementioned, Leon’s great at pretending. Pretending to be normal. Pretending to not have ulterior motives. Pretending to not want your legs on his shoulders as he-

“All ready?” He interrupts himself here. Can’t let his thoughts keep going too far. Even if he does want to rest a hand on your leg while he drives. Or veer off the road and into a tree so that he can’t continue to be disgusting. He’d die with the image of being a good, wholesome dad in everyone’s mind. And if you did or didn’t die too, at least you would have died not having been fucked silly by your old man. He manages to not kill you both, though. He wasn’t planning to- his driving is just ass. He knows whiskey with his breakfast isn’t ideal but when you’re a recovering alcoholic plus post traumatic stressed failure of a father, it helps.

Can’t complain though since he gets to put his hands on you while helping you out of the vehicle.

Now you’re both in the mall- Leon questioning what exactly he’s supposed to do now. He hasn’t been to one since… he doesn’t have enough fingers for that. But you’re seemingly calm. Until he makes a stupid joke about your shorts. Sure. As much as he’s thinking about ripping a hole in the crotch to fuck you cause he’s impatient and stupid- he said it out of genuine concern.

He still has fatherly instinct. Some sick bastard could get a glimpse of your exposed legs and go jerk off to it or take a photo. Ironic coming from him right now. The call is coming from inside the house but the dad is too busy fiending after his own daughter to answer.

You’re royally pissed. He knows it. Women don’t like having it insinuated that they’re dressed like a whore. Big whoop, though. Someone has to say it. Then you blindside him. Big, needy eyes and saying you like it when he tells you your legs are nice. Then something about how you want to fuck him. Christ. What the fuck. He’s not sure if this is some kind of screwy set-up or you’re actually just so slutty that the only dick you’ll accept is your dad’s. He’s rocking a semi now. Would be a full hard-on if he weren’t in public but his head spins cause all the blood went to his loins too fast.

Leon doesn’t accept the advances yet. Not now, anyways. He’s mortified. He really thought he had himself going in delusion about how you were behaving- but he was actually right. And now being confronted with it… he’s fucking scared - that’s for sure. Hmm. Be a morally acceptable human or fuck your needy, whore daughter silly? He shakes his head and lets out an exhale.

That question needs some thought. No, it doesn’t. He knows better than to do any of that shit, right? He takes a moment to start walking while you follow along shamefully- the two of you headed to the theater. A movie is perfect. Don’t have to talk or anything. No interacting, really. But how the fuck is he just going to forget what you said? Sure, he’s been having questionable thoughts but they’re just thoughts. Your words, however, spoke it into existence. Like a fucked up, frankenstein’s monster of father-daughter reality.

Don’t mind us, everyone. Daughter’s got it real bad for me but I’m just going to take her to the movies and pretend it’s normal. Reality was distorted for him ever since the existence of zombies and BOWs anyway.

He lets you pick the movie- telling the attendant that he needs two tickets. It’s a horror movie. Of course. Something to trigger his PTSD, maybe. Then he could say anything he did after that was just accidental. A mental slip. He goes to fork over the $60 for tickets and popcorn- god, when did shit get so expensive? As he’s pulling out the cash, he sees you give him a look like you want to say something. His mind is racing looking at you- it makes him nervous.

“Uh.. what about candy?” You ask, looking away from him and at the display.

“What? Sour worms?” He questions you, laughing. Not in a mean way- but because it’s your favorite. So insignificant but he remembers. You were still a kid when he and your mom took you to see some milked out children’s movie that was a part of an entirely too long series. He bought you two boxes of sour worms then. You were a weird kid, though. The worms were split into two colors, and you’d always bite them down the middle and make him eat the side you didn’t like. But he’d do it. Gladly.

You nod, a little befuddled that he’d remember something like that. Cute. Too bad your weird ass just told him you wanted to fuck him about 15 minutes ago. So not entirely a cute moment.

“Oh- and two boxes of Sour Worms, please.” He adds, now pulling out a little more cash.

You both respectively grab your own drinks- Leon with popcorn in tow and you, your worms and cherry soda. His hands are full but he manages to flash the movie ticket between his index and middle finger to the usher, who then ripped it in half and pointed to the left end of the hallway.

You both don’t say anything, but you immediately race to the very top row like a child once inside the screening. Leon swears under his breath as he follows you like a geriatric snail. If a snail could have lumbar issues. He’s able to make it up the stairs to you quite some time after and takes the seat next to you that’s closest to the aisle. Safety and all that jazz.

Previews are already playing so it gives him peace of mind to not address the awkwardness between the two of you. Your soda is in the cup holder that’s separating you both, but you lean over to take a sip, cheeks hollowed out while you drink. Of course Leon looks over, fuck.

Pretty little lips wrapped around the straw until you pull off of it with a satisfied sigh. Cause you were thirsty from anxiety- like someone shoved gauze and cotton into your mouth.

He shifts in his seat and looks back at the screen. He doesn’t even know if you’re doing it on purpose. You’re not, however. He’s just a perverted dickhead.

Time passes and not a single soul has come into this screening. It’s Monday at 11am, after all. Who the hell would come watch a horror movie at this time? No one except two fucking weirdos. It’s making Leon’s nails dig into the armrest with the other set scratching at his jeans.

The movie doesn’t start off bad, to Leon’s shock. He’s actually enjoying it and you seem just as entranced, pulling open the box of Sour Worms without looking down. You do wind up looking down, however, to bite one in half because it just so happened to be a blue and orange combo, and you hated the orange side.

“Here.” Leon turns to look at you- your eyes coming up to meet his blue ones that are oddly blue enough to the point that any light from the screen makes them pop. Pretty.

“The orange half. I know you don’t like them.” His voice is husky and low since the speakers are blaring some generic string-quartet horror piece. He nods down to the half chewed candy in your palm.

You pinch it between your fingers, bringing it to his mouth as your cunt throbs. He was expecting you to hand it to him, but the way you confidentially yet instinctively brought it to his lips isn’t entirely unwelcome. The emptiness of the theater makes it that way. Allows room for incest of whatever. He opens his mouth for you, and you go to place the sour treat on his tongue. His lips gently close around it, before he grabs your wrist to hold your arm in place. A hold gentle enough to tell you that if you want to snatch your hand away- feel free to do so. But you don’t. And you won’t. He knows.

Candy in cheek, he brings your fingers to his lips and nurses your knuckles with a kiss before puppeteering your hand with his larger one, working each digit so that he can equally suck each one clean. You’re amazed, aroused, and alarmed all at the same time. Amazed because he looks so gorgeous sucking on your fingers. Aroused for the obvious reason. Alarmed because duh, he’s your father and things can only go further from here.

Leon places your hand back onto the arm rest between you, chewing the halved sour worm now. As if he didn’t just give you the most visually appealing form of sexual affection in the history of womankind. The dryness of your mouth returns and you take another sip of your Cherry soda. Maybe you can drown yourself in it. No, stupid. That’s what the public bathroom toilets are for.

Right before you set the plastic cup into the cupholder again, Leon speaks.

“Ah, ah. Put it over there.” You don’t even hesitate to listen. Record timing for you doing anything. You don’t even know why you followed his instructions so quick.

“Good girl.” His words send lightning of excitement down your nerves and straight to your clit as he pushes the armrest between you upwards and out of the way. Because that’s a thing, for some reason. It’s like theaters want people to fuck, give head, and spread their diseases everywhere. And why does he know they move? You don’t even want to question it. Maybe he’s just a knowledgeable guy.

“Come here, honey. Let daddy kiss that pretty mouth.” Fucking Christ. This can’t be real. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause again, there’s zero hesitation on your part. Leon likes that. A woman that can follow orders. He’s so used to taking them, not giving them. And your mom isn’t one to listen to other people. Either way, if this goes south, Leon can always just off himself. He wasn’t around much so what difference would it make if he was permanently gone? The reassurance of being able to log out forever gives him courage here. It’s rational.

You scoot over since you’re free from any barriers or restrictions, and he puts an arm over you. You swear you almost hear your skin sizzle from the contact. You’re not a witch- and as far as you know, he’s not water. Even if he gets you wet. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and swipe a thumb over your bottom lip- teasing you.

“D-dad.” You stutter a protest- cringing that you sounded the way you did just now. Maybe you shouldn’t be embarrassed ‘cause he’s your dad- but you are embarrassed ‘cause he’s hot. You can’t even figure out why you wanna back out suddenly. Probably because the idea was better than betraying your mom and knowing yourself as someone who fucks their dad. Anywho- didn’t he say something about kissing you? Cause he’s not even doing as promised.

Your dad leans in, his free hand is now on your neck and angling it just to show you how easy he can manhandle your body. He plants a kiss on your earlobe before saying anything.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t go giving daddy blue-balls now. It’s not polite to start things you don’t wanna finish.”

Leon’s words simultaneously gross you out and turn you on in a self-deprecating, disgusting kind of way. Not to mention he’s literally contradicting himself since he would gladly eat the half of the sour worms you didn’t want to finish- therefore entirely enabling you to start things you couldn’t finish. Hm. That must explain a large portion of your life, then. And besides all do that, doesn’t the know blue-balls is some kinda stupid myth or whatever?

His thumb falls down your lip and traces your jawline with intentional slowness while his eyes look over your face appreciatively- but it also seems as if he’s looking for or at something specific.

You get the courage to speak, air sucked fully into your lungs.

“Sorry, daddy.” The fuck is wrong with you? You could have said anything but that. It’ll only spur him on. But you want that, obviously.

He smirks, lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth do that same, pitted thing they do that you like so much. Must go hand in hand with how his chin is also dimpled. It’s sexy. But little do you know, it’s one of the reasons he keeps his stubble. Doesn’t feel like having his butt chin on display to the world- even if every woman that’s ever laid eye on him sees it and wants it buried in their cunt.

“That’s my girl. Didn’t even have to be around much to teach you that, did I?” Leon queries, grabbing your chin to crane your head just so that he can plant his lips onto your neck. His other hand is on your knee, unmoving. You want it to move, though. God- you’re sure whatever higher power is in the great sky is throwing up right now, moments away from pressing the reset button. The same higher power will make a new rule on humanity.

No free will and absolutely no incest. Yeah. Probably should have written that into the books ages ago, one fears.

You fidget as he kisses your neck, stubble scratching your epidermis yet tickling all the same.

“Not gonna answer me, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your throat, the neck kiss he gives it uses a bit of tongue- making your body jolt. “I know your mother taught you manners.”’

You mumble something pathetically apologetic, hands gripping the fabric over his shoulders. Hopefully your mom won’t notice his shirt being stretched out there- cause she notices everything.

“N-no, daddy. I knew it on my own.” You huff, that hand you wanted him to move is slowly doing so- fingers dragging along your inner thigh as if everything he’s doing to you is purposefully meant to be some kind of forewarning. But for what, exactly?

“Such a smart girl. Get that from daddy, you know it?” Ok, cocky…

Leon kisses his way back up your neck, jawbone, and then your cheek. It’s sweet- if being lavished with saccharine, sexual and inappropriate attention from your dad could be sweet.

You nod, feeling his grip loosen from your chin and now sliding up the back of your neck to tangle in your hair, threading it. He’s slow and deliberate- part of you wishes he’d not give you time to think about your actions. Not that you can really think anyways. Your heartbeat is muddled in your ears and the movie is still rumbling through the speakers while someone gets murdered on screen. Lucky them.

The hand on your thigh presses firmer into the skin just below the edge of your shorts, a silent telling for you to keep your attention on him.

“Sorry baby, daddy got distracted. Just so pretty.” He must be able to tell you’re impatient because he kisses your cheek (with an oddly dark undertone to it) before slimming the distance between your lips. He pauses right when they touch and you’re breathing in the taste-turned-scent of the sour worm you fed him earlier. Sugar and that weird orange flavor that is only specific to orange candy. You’re obviously not a fan, but it suits him.

You don’t get any time left to process before it’s a full on kiss- well, make out, actually. It’s slow. You can’t recall being kissed like this, ever. Normally it’s straight to tongue with guys, and not in, like, the good way. The ‘having an eel invading your oral cavity’ kind of way. Eugh.

But your dad’s tongue does brush yours, tastefully. You can actually feel the texture and it’s easy to tell there’s an erection fueling his actions- but not so much so that it takes over the whole kiss.

He uses your hair to pull you closer, teeth clashing momentarily. Not exactly the best feeling but everything else envelops your senses to the point that it’s only a flash of a moment. Your thigh is neglected by his touch, hand moving up and around onto your backside. He gives a squeeze to the fat of your ass and groans against your mouth before pulling you into his lap- legs folded on either side of his thighs.

You break the kiss, looking over your shoulder and to where the entrance is- the exit sign casting a nearby glow that gives you anxiety..

“Can’t- we’ll get caught.” You pant, that weird feeling that’s the grotesque love child of nervousness and excitement is swimming in your gut like a parasite before settling. The severity and realness of the situation sinks in.

Leon laughs low and mean, retracting his hand from your hair and moving to run it through the top of your scalp to push it back. He juts his hips upwards to prod his denimed erection into the cunt of your shorts. You mewl quietly, or maybe it was loud. The movie is just too deafening to distinguish which.

“Suppose you’re right, baby.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, leaning in to give you a light peck on the lips. “Told you you’re a smart girl, didn’t I? Can’t let me go around thinking with my dick, huh?”

His hand pats your thigh as if to tell you to get off.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Up.” He commands you with a huffed voice- not because he’s annoyed but because he’s a middle-aged man. Moving is hard. You ignominiously climb off of his lap, putting your bottom back onto the seat next to him. He’s looking at you, meandering a hand back onto your thigh just to rest in place.

You stare at the screen- but you can’t even register it because you’re too disassociated from what just happened. You almost want to beg him to fuck you right here- plead for forgiveness that you suggested stopping in the first place. And you can still taste that damned orange sour worm in your mouth.

Leon behaves, though. He’s good about that. Respectful. In the way of consent- not in the way of not tongue fucking his daughter in a public space. When the movie ends, he gestures for you to stand and you walk past him, carrying your empty cup and boxes of sour worms while the uncomfortable feeling of your slick clinging the gusset of your panties to your cunt. You look back at your father, the sight of him in the palely lit theater is a bit intimidating. He’s adjusting his pants for obvious reasons. You look away quickly and keep walking- a giddy feeling of satisfaction overcoming you. Shortly enough, you’re both back in the main area of the mall. You brush your shirt out and fix your hair- the thought occurs to you that maybe you look a little mussed and should have straightened up sooner.

But the daylight beaming through the sky roof brings you back to your senses.

“Hmm. What does my sweet girl want to get up to now?” Leon asks, intersecting his arms as he looks over you.

You think, mind fizzling as it short circuits. You almost smell smoke emanating from your head, too. How can you look him in the face right now?

“Uhh..” You really don’t know what to say. What can you focus on doing after everything that’s happened today?

“How about this? We can go home a little early and I’ll cook something up for lunch. The drive will give us time to work up an appetite.” He says, nonchalant. Right back to his same fatherly tone from earlier today instead of the ‘I want to split you open with my dick’ tone he had moments ago. Maybe he’s just being sweet and you’re overthinking.

You’re befuddled that he’s not saying anything else about… that. How can he so easily go from publicly groping you to acting cheery and normal? It’s frustrating. Disturbing even. Leon can see the disappointment on your face- but you don’t know that. You assume it’s well hidden, just like the fact you kissed your own father. He thinks it’s cute though. You’re just cock dumb for him. On the other hand, this whole situation is something he has to deal with.

“Got it.” You manage to say, walking a little faster than he does. This is the second time you’ve walked off from your dad, and it does irritate him because he can’t keep up like he used to. Displaced disc in his spine or whatever. Plus, he thinks you’re pissed. Which is worrying. Should have known better than to mess around with his own daughter, he supposes.

The drive back is silent and less terrifying than the previous, part of you thankful. Maybe he was only a bad driver in the morning. Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe it was the fact that he drank whiskey with his breakfast. Hm. ‘Responsible’ in hindsight.

It’s still early in the afternoon when you arrive back home. The concrete is sizzling from the heat and the sun beats down way too uncomfortably for even a walk from the driveway to the front door.

Leon side-steps you to unlock the house before he urges you in. He may be morally reprehensible but he still didn’t want to let any cool air out- AC’s expensive. You plop down on the couch and he locks the door, walking past you and straight to the kitchen.

The tension is thick for you- but for Leon- not at all. You watch him disappear through the doorway as he goes to prep food. Why is it so hard to read his emotions? He’s like a fucking light switch. You’re annoyed- leaning back on the couch, until he calls for you. You’re quick to get up, scrambling into the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart. Mind giving me a hand?”

“Yeah. What is it?” You faintly cock your head to the side.

Leon looks to the side- directly at you. You’re cute when you’re confused. He can tell that all you’re thinking about is continuing where you two left off earlier. Shit, you’re no better than your mother. ‘S just that you’re not crabby and sour all the time like she is.

“Can you grab the saucepan from the bottom cabinet. Your old dad can’t exactly bend over too well.” He laughs- shaking his head. Yes, dad. I get it. I know you have a bad back.

You walk over to the cabinet where he’s leaned onto one hand which is rested on the marbled countertop. You feel a bit apprehensive to be close to him again. Mostly because you don’t trust yourself to not jump his bones, but Leon’s already ahead of you. As soon as you bend over, he pulls you back by the hips so that your ass is flush with his groin.

You’re taken aback but definitely not surprised. He’s a dirty old man, as you’ve learned.

“Gonna let daddy fuck this pussy now, or are you getting flaky on me?” He coos against your ear while he runs his hands up your sides and down again- creeping his hands to your front and over the buttons of your shorts- unhooking them through the slits.

“Yes.. want it.” You breathe in quick- the word coming out on its own. If god could hear you right now, he’d set your house ablaze with lightning.

“Need you to loosen up if I’m going to. You’re way too stiff.” Your shorts are the opposite of you, loose and unfastened fully so they fall to your ankles, and Leon nudges your feet apart with his boot. You realize he’s got a point as you feel his calloused hand glide down your hip and yank you in place. The other hand is spreading your pussy lips apart before finding that fleshy bud between them. A moan rumbles in your throat as your legs almost give out below you. He mutters a curse under his breath, and you realize his cock is now out while he rubs up against your ass- getting off on not only playing with your pussy but from dry humping you.

“Fucking christ. Got the prettiest ass, baby. Think daddy needs to see it bouncing on his cock.” You can practically feel that stupid, smug look as he grabs his dick- slapping it on your ass. It makes you cringe a little, but maybe you should be cringing at the fact your dad is the one doing it. You figure it’s just something he saw in porn, so it doesn’t leave your expectations high at the moment. Great. Leon adjusted himself back into his pants, for now.

His finger continues circling that bundle of nerves, your legs shaky as you’re being pressed into the counter, a hand is on your lower back to keep you down so he can do what he wants. You sound stupid- tears welling in your eyes as you babble nonsensically about wanting to cum. He moves his hand off of your back and sinks to his knees to be face level with you (even if it makes his back hurt a little), sliding his fingers up your inner thigh until there’s a digit prodding your hole, slowly pushing in.

He watches your cunt swallow his finger, barely able to fit it inside.

“Fucking shit, baby. Gonna have to stretch this pussy out if I want my cock in you, huh? Think you can let daddy do that?” He asks, breathy and sounding like he’s trying not to bust all over himself.

You eagerly shake your head.

“Yes, daddy. Need you to get me loose.” The words spill like a hot cup of tea from your lips, scalding Leon with desire.

“God damned. Such a polite fucking girl I’ve got. Might have to eat your mother out later to thank her for making you so respectful.”

You scrunch your face in disgust.

“That’s fucking gross.” You moan, Leon slipping a second finger into you, which should technically feel like four with how worn and big his hands are.

He tuts, planting a kiss to your asscheek.

“Now, didn’t daddy just compliment you? Could be a bit more grateful since he’s trying to make you cum” He grits, sounding a bit (terrifyingly) stern.

You apologize again.

“Sorry, daddy. Just don’t wanna hear about you and mom. Makes me jealous.” You admit, briefly thinking about their dinner conversation last night. Then about how fucking weird you are. You’re really hoping you get the courage to bash your head on the marble countertop and get amnesia.

Leon laughs, but in a way that makes you think he’s amused more than actually laughing.

“God. Want me to stop fucking my own wife just ‘cause you’ve got a needy pussy?” A third finger slips in, making an almost unbearable stretch as you feel a slight ache, but the previous two fingers already did enough work that it’s not completely unbearable.

“Maybe you’re not that grateful. Giving you three fingers here and she’s still too tight.” He twists his hand, letting the inside of you feel every inch of his knuckles and calluses. Your knuckles, however, are ghost-white as you grip at nothing.

“Maybe your fingers are just too small.” You say- mostly from built up tension and annoyance that you didn’t get to let out yet. But you regret the words.

He’s silent- which scares you. He pulls his fingers out of you- the stark contrast in emptiness is clear and the cool air stings you.

Leon groans as he stands up, kicking off his boots before yanking you by the arms to stand straight. He leans into your ear.

“C’mon. You’re gonna come sit on daddy’s dick, since you’re too fucking picky.” Goosebumps form all over you as he leads you to the couch. Leon leaves you standing there so he can get comfortable and discard his clothing, lying back with his hands behind his head. You make a mental note of how his biceps look with his arms bent in this position, even if you kinda feel like it’s lazy. But holy fuck, his toned stomach is perfect- sprinkled with a happy trail that will definitely lead you somewhere that will make you happy. Speaking of, his dick is nice. Fat. Not sure how big it is since you have not much to compare to, but you’d imagine taking it would be a bit of a proper challenge.

You step a little closer- crawling awkwardly over his lap- ass faced towards him so that you settle on his waist. It’s hard not to feel self conscious about your backside in this position, even considering the fact that he was just fingering you from the back moments ago. You’re mostly just upset you can’t gawk at his tits or stomach.

You grab him by the base, shifting yourself to hover directly over him, letting the tip graze your wet hole before slowly sinking down- a drawn out moan escaping you.

“Fuckkk. That’s it. Sit down on it. Take all of daddy.” You glance over your shoulder as you bottom him out; his eyes are half-lidded. Well, at least he’s got a pretty face while you’re fucking him. You almost failed to realize his hands moved from behind his head to your ass- gliding up your back and down again.

You take a moment to adjust, breathing shakily ‘cause his dick is so fat you think you might die. Or maybe you’re having a heart attack at your ripe age.

“Didn’t tell you to take any breaks, did I baby?” You’re annoyed at his pushiness, but you did have a bit of a sour attitude earlier. So you can only blame yourself.

You’re not sure how to entirely do this, but you move yourself up and down. Not at a fast pace, yet. Just that savoring your dad’s dick seems like a reasonable ordeal.

He doesn’t shut up, though. You’re learning just how much he likes to talk- as if he just wants to hear himself. Is he even getting off on you or the sound of his own voice? It makes you roll your eyes even if you do like hearing him say dirty shit.

"That’s my girl. So fucking good. Ride it nice and slow... Work that sweet pussy on daddy's cock.” You just might fall over dead hearing him say any of it- it’s disgusting but sweet Jesus are you eating it up. He must know it too because of how you clench around him involuntarily when he talks like that.

“You like when daddy praises you? Yeah, you love me telling you how good you are.” His words are husky and yet pleased with the previous tidbit of information.

“See how nice I am? Letting you sit on my cock after you made me wait earlier. Wasn’t very nice of you, now was it, baby?” His words have an underlyingly mocking tone, but you’d do anything to make him change it.

“No, daddy. Was really mean of me.” You whine pitifully, bouncing yourself on his dick like it’s your major in college and you’re trying to pass with flying colors.

“I know, baby. But daddy forgives you.” He murmurs, sitting up with you still on top of him. He’s flush against your back now- reaching in front of you to make those same tight circles on your clit. You both exchange your pitchy moans and his grunting and groaning- working up to a good point in both of your impending orgasms.

“Gonna cum in this pussy, got it? Daddy doesn’t like to pull out.”

You scramble a bit, squirming on his lap.

“Fuck, dad! You can’t do that!” You whine as his other arm holds you onto him- wrapped around your stomach. Your nails dig into his forearms, hopefully not leaving noticeable scratches.

“I think I can, baby. You’re squeezing me at the idea- I’m not fucking stupid.” He’s quick to be mean again, but you’d be a liar to say you’d don’t want him to cum in you. And you’re not a liar, that’s just deplorable- coming from someone who is literally fucking their dad with enough energy to power a small village for a month. And yet, you don’t stop riding him.

And your silence tells it all.

“Yeah- my baby wants a nice creampie.” He sounds more strained now, letting go of his hold on your stomach and using his hand to now guide you to roll your hips on him.

Sweat beads down Leon’s forehead, bangs sticking to his face as he watches your ass grinding against his lap.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that. I’m gonna cream this tight fucking pussy. Want that, don’t you? ‘Cause daddy’s gonna give it to you whether you want it or not.”

You should be a little more upset or concerned in any regard right now, but the last two days have made you into a proper whore to the point that you don’t even give a shit. Self respect crawled itself into a space shuttle and launched off of the planet, probably to never be seen again. Stuck in orbit, if you will.

You’re sucked out of the motions when Leon speaks again.

“Stop, stop.” He pats your bottom.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna see your face. Wanna kiss those lips while you’re on my dick.” Your stomach flutters with nervousness and a sickly sweet feeling. You lifted yourself from him with a trail of arousal to follow and maneuvered to turn around- this time he was holding his cock ready for you. Moments went by of you staring, getting a proper look of him since everything had been a quick blur so far.

“Come on, baby. Need you to mount daddy’s cock again. Told you I wanted to kiss you, didn’t I?” He exhaled, sounding a bit pent up. Jeez- seconds without pussy and he’s getting upset. Maybe he needs a therapist and anger management, not his college-aged daughter spearing herself on him.

You replied, yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you wait, daddy.

You dropped yourself down onto him once more- only this time it was easier since you were able to get accustomed to his dick.

“Start moving sweetheart, make daddy cum.” He instructed, leaning in to take you in a kiss. It was more dirty than the last kiss, somehow. His tongue slipped between your lips- Leon lifted you with his hands on your waist before jutting his hips up to slam his cock snugly into your heat, groaning against your mouth delightfully.

His teeth nipped your lower lip- giving you a little further taste of just what kind of lover he is. Or maybe this is just the version you get. Either way, you can’t complain in any area. You feel lucky to receive even a sliver of it.

The familiar roughness of his thumb returns to your already throbbing bud- circling at the same pace he’s now moving at. Despite his age, he seems awfully enthusiastic to do strenuous work involving his hips. Bad back, my ass. Or maybe he’s able to put that on the back burner to please you. Probably worried if he doesn’t give you good dick then you’ll go tattle on him.

Leon didn’t break the kiss whatsoever while he pounded into you ruthlessly, he swallowed up every moan and noise you made like it was alcohol. ‘Cause that was his favorite, obviously.

When he pulled his mouth off of yours, a trail of saliva lingered- stretching out while you giggled on top of him. Something about you laughing almost made him nut immediately, but he held out just to prolong this and let it engrain into his mind for certain.

“Got the prettiest baby- look so good on my cock like this. Want daddy to bust in that pretty pussy?” He asked, looking for your approval.

“Uh-huh. Need daddy to knock me up.” The words came from god knows where, making even your eyes look bewildered for a second.

Leon laughed darkly at you.

“God, baby. Daddy’s so fucking close.” He muttered stupidly, almost like he was drunk. At least this could be an ego boost for you- but the fact it was your dad canceled that out. Dick only counts if it’s from someone that’s not related to you. His eyes did that half-lidded thing from earlier that you found so hot, and he pulled you down onto his cock one last time, spilling thick ropes into your blood-related hole. His dick pulsed as he let out a muted grunt, head lolling back and his adam's apple on full, stubbly display. You could bite it, just like a real apple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned. Jeez. He was a whore, honestly. The way he made noises and didn’t shut the fuck up was honestly… a case that should be studied. Maybe he had been turned out a time or two himself.

His cock didn’t soften though, nor did he not forget about you cumming. He lifted his head back up, looking down at where his thumb was. It was almost like he read your thoughts, not saying a word as he concentrated on making you cum. ‘Cause earlier he had been too eager to get in you and you were too eager to get on him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders (hopefully your mom wouldn’t notice any marks on him when she gets home from work later) and he gently fucked into you while you received proper attention on your aching clit. The combination of his dick keeping you full and the sensation of his digit sent you throbbing through your orgasm around him- low curses and other disgusting things coming out of both your mouths.

‘Cause you’re both disgusting.

[harcove]

Hey guys can you NOT post your disgusting fucking father x child fanfiction about Leon here? LIKE ACTUALLY YOU ARE FUCKING SICK. You're actually fucking vile. I'm not even gonna call it a fetish because you're just fucking sick for this shit. You FANTASIZE about being in a relationship with Leon but he's YOUR DAD? Holy fuck. Holy fuck. GET HELP- there's no fucking defending yourself to from this like "it's just fiction," bitch that doesn't change the fact you want to imagine getting fucked by Leon but specially with him as your FATHER. You want to be fucked by your dad.

There's a general problem with Leon fanfiction here and it's always sexual and just keeps getting darker and slowly more illegal. You can't go five seconds without smut being thrown in your face. And now, you're writing incest for him? Bye 💀