#tw: pseudo incest

[archersartcorner]

Totally understand this isn’t everyone’s thing, but unfortunately for y’all I love fucked up family dynamics, SO

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡 - 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. The reader's father-in-law gets in the way of her making a cake for her cheating husband (wc: 2.4k)

𝐜𝐰 — daughter-in-law!afab! x father-in-law!Leon S. Kennedy. 18+ smut mdni, dead dove do not eat, pseudoincest (in laws), modern/no outbreak au, cheating (both the reader and her husband so toxic relationship), food play (eating frosting off tits), finger sucking, vaginal rubbing, nipple play, p in v, orgasms, and cum -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You cracked an egg into the mixing bowl, the bright orange sunset yolk breaking and swirling into the beige batter of sugar and butter. Your hands moved mechanically as you swirled around the wooden spoon you adored making, but your heart wasn’t in it this time. If anything, it added more stress than the usual therapeutic feeling that was usually provided. 

The kitchen smelt sweet, with the opened powdered sugar adding a gourmand scent to the atmosphere. Only this time, it wasn’t as delicious as usual; it was more suffocating as you glanced at your recipe card and made the same cake for the same ungrateful man every single year. 

It was your husband's birthday coming around the corner, and you were making his favourite cake that he would always ask for with bright puppy dog eyes that had a twinge of selfishness in the gleam. However, as the years passed, your love for making his favourites soon faded like snow on a hot day. As you watched the intricate swirling pattern of ingredients mix into the bowl, you wondered if she does things like this for him, if he makes her do different or even in the same favourites. She was the largest reason you lost love for your husband, the secretary he became obsessed with and naively thought he was doing a good job at hiding, even when he never deleted those texts and made that awful day of seeing his exchange of nudes with her happen. You remembered how your heart lurched and your stomach twisted when you saw her. The typical stereotype: pretty, bombshell even, and younger. You were aware cheating happens, but you thought—like every naive woman before you—that your husband would never tread those paths of infidelity. 

You remembered when you confided with your best friend, to which she rightfully asked why you wouldn’t leave. You felt stupid but also smart to stay with him; life was comfortable with him, and there wasn’t much option to have a life after him; you married him right out of high school, bright-eyed and clueless and thinking that love would be enough, but now you know better—even if it’s too late to accumulate that knowledge. 

Life with him was comfortable, and while he was neglectful emotionally, materially, there was nothing to complain about; however, a proper marriage can’t continue just with gifts, and it wasn’t like a proper marriage was going to continue when your heart irredeemably broke when you found those text messages and lipstick stains on his collar, with cheap perfume lingering on the cotton. He managed to get you everything you wanted—except real love—from handbags, perfumes, and any trinket of a hyper fixation. Without him, you’d have nothing: no house, no security; you were just a high school graduate with no real experience and no one else to support you, so you played the role of the good wife, perfect hostess, like it was a survival tool. 

You heard the kitchen door open as you reached for the vanilla extract. You froze for a moment as you wiped your hands on a teatowel and realised it was not your husband; it was too early for him; he’s usually out for hours after work with the secretary; no, who came to visit was a man that always made you smile, Leon Kennedy—your father in law. 

“Smells good in here,” he says with a smooth voice, like velvet with a smoked sharp edge of whiskey aftertaste in it. You watched as his eyes flicked over your form, almost lingering a bit too long, but you didn’t mind; in fact, whenever he looked at you, something always stirred inside of you. 

Leon would often visit; it started with him checking up on his son, but now it was more often to check on you, to which you didn’t mind. You loved your father-in-law. He always made you feel welcome and accepted. When he found out about the secretary's story, he managed to make sure to check up on you often, and you could tell there was something else lingering in these checkups whenever his wandering eyes would stray just a little longer when taking in the vision, that was you, into his peripheral. You weren’t going to act as you disliked it; it wasn’t exactly like Leon was unattractive; it was quite the opposite, actually, especially when you looked at those toned arms, sharp jawline and the way his straight hair framed the harsh chiselled features you couldn’t help but find the beauty in. 

There was also something else between you two. Ever since the secretary's story was known, tension soon built between you two; you always found him attractive. It would be stupid not to see his beauty objectively, but mutual attraction soon makes the tension seem unyielding. The nights he would visit—when you were all alone—there would often be touch with little to no distance between you two. There were especially nights were touching soon swirled into lingering kisses that turned into pants and moans exchanged in each other’s mouths, and soon after these exchanges, you were as innocent as your cheating husband was, only it felt like you were doing so much worse; he was with a pretty secretary, and you were fucking his dad, but you had little sympathy for the man that started the petty streak within you.

“It’s just cake frosting and batter,” you replied while turning back to the bowl and trying to ignore the warmth that crept up on your neck from where he walked up behind and let you feel his hot breath dance along the back of your neck; his presence suffocating, but equally electrifying and arousing. 

“Just cake?” he teases in a lower octave. “Did you bake it with love?” he continues, a breath of amusement lingering at the end of his words.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, your pulse quickening when you felt his muscular arms start to snake around your waist, making your back hit his chest, and you felt how his heartbeat thumped in its chamber for you.

“No, can’t say I’m baking this one with love,” you muttered. 

“Well, he doesn’t deserve it anyway,” his hands smooth over your hips, giving them a slight squeeze that makes your breath hitch as he holds you in place while your heart jitters in rhythm. 

“You shouldn’t be touching me like this, you know,” you tease with a flirty smile.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he matched your teasing as he coaxed out suggestive giggles as his lips grazed on the curve of your neck, leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses that made you feel weak; something your husband never could make you feel once the connection and love was lost. “Come on, he doesn’t come home for another three hours… and he doesn’t deserve all this hard work.” 

“Yeah, and who does?” 

“Me, obviously. Haven’t I taken care of you, or does my girl need some more attention,” he made your heart and body jump when he squeezed the fat of your ass, griping it and slowly massaging it, using your soft and sensual moans as an invitation to keep going and more. 

With his free hand, he dipped his finger in the pink shimmery frosting and let a wet licking out as he tasted your hard work: “Oh, he definitely doesn’t deserve this; way too good for him… Here, try some.” He says in a suggestive tone as the leftover frosting drips down the length of his finger, making his pupils dilate and swallow the blue of his gaze as he watches you take his finger in and suck on the length of it slowly; just the sight of you looking up and making eye contact with him was enough to make his cock hard, making it press against the rough fabric of his jeans to make a tented peak that was begging to be released and nestle itself inside of you

You giggled slightly: “Hm yeah… way too good for him.”

Leon smirked at your reply as his hands went back to squeezing your waist: “Yeah… like you… you’re way too good for him, but I’m good enough for you,” he punctuated his words, which had a deep grovelled tone, with a few neck kisses; he left a soft wet trail with his lips grazing down the slop and curve of your neck, making pretty little whimpers escape your mouth. “Oh, you make the prettiest sounds,” he mumbled before his neck kisses started to deepen with the tips of his teeth starting to indent on your soft and fragile skin; you didn’t care about being subtle anymore; your husband would come back with the lipstick marks and reak of perfume, so why should you keep the courtesy of secrecy when he never even thought of giving you the manner?

“Mm,” you let out a mumble of arousal as you felt his hands start to snake and slither down between your thighs, hearing his amusement and ego start to heighten when he felt how wet you were already for him, how warm and ready you were between those doughy and plushy thighs that he adored to grab, squeeze, and kiss. 

You let out a sharp gasp, inhaling the cool air that surrounded the kitchen into your expanding lungs as you felt him lift your dress up and plunge his large hand into your lacy barrier, forming circle motions around your sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling how hard he was against your ass as he kept teasing that developed wet spot that darkened your underwear. 

“Such a pretty girl, the most beautiful girl,” he kept whispering his praises as he rubbed your clit, making your chest rise and fall at a quick pace as you wrapped your hand around and interlocked your fingers with his long strands of dusty blonde hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, who needs him when I’m around… Isn’t that right, darling?” 

“Y-yeah, who needs him? Aah,” your words were interrupted with an interlude of sensual moans that erupted from the base of your throat and past your glossy lips as his fingers moved quicker and rougher. 

He left a trail of kisses as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, letting it collect in a wrinkled pool by your feet as he used his free hand to grab at the swell of your breast. 

“Oh, no bra, aren’t I a lucky man?” he pinched slightly as your pebbled nipple. 

You gasped in a moan as you two looked at one another, both of you smirking at one another as he worked on your sensitive buds and admired all those gorgeous and sexy moans you were making for him until he pushed you and bent you over the counter. 

In the blur of motions, you gasped as the cold surface pressed against your already-hardened nipples, but now mixed with a room-temperature sensation; when Leon bent you down, you accidentally smacked your hand at the edge of the bowl, the pink frosting oozing everywhere on the counter and now pooling over to your tits, making a sticky brim collect on your plush skin. At the same time, Leon had pulled his jeans and boxers down—along with your underwear—as he pushed his sensitive, reddened tip along your wet folds, making you sing like an angel with every moan that protruded and danced along your lips. 

“Ah, Leon, s-stop teasing me,” you whimper out. 

“Mm, okay, guess my good girl deserves it now, doesn’t she,” he teased in that tantalising tone. Still, he turned you around, making you yelp as he lifted you up quickly and put you on the counter, watching his brows rise in intrigue with the image of the pink frosting oozing down the mounds on your chest. 

He grinds the tip of his dick along your puffy folds before slipping his hard and wet length inside of you, filling you up and making you gasp. 

“Oh, fuck, Leon.” 

“That’s it; use that pretty mouth for good, hunny.”

The room started to fill up with orgasmic exchanges as he pushed further inside your gummy walls, biting his lip as he felt your cunt suck him in further for his tip to bash against that spongy sweet spot he had found so easily, like his body was made to be connected to yours in an intimate exchange; far more compatible than you and your husband, or him and his ex-wife. 

Leon couldn’t hold it in anymore when he watched the pink frosting start to set on your soft skin, letting his face bend forward and lick the sweet mess off your tits.

“Fuck, you taste even more sweet now,” he whispered before his tongue proceeded to lap up every sweet bit of mess that had accumulated down to your sensitive buds, making you whimper and writhe underneath his touch as the stiff tip of his tongue circulated on your nipples and leaving the occasional nibble to make your heart jitter and your walls tighten and spasm around his thick length. 

“Oh, my god,” you moaned out. 

You felt like your body was on fire, with arousal pooling in your stomach, the sensation almost being too much for you to handle as your eyes rolled up until only the whites were visible and accompanied by your dazed and dream-like expression as you bit your lip in ecstasy. 

The push and pull of his cock was quick but steady, his tongue lapping around your sensitive buds, making you get so much closer to your high—which was never hard to find with Leon’s skill. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you moan out in an orgasmic and pornographic tone. 

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock like the good girl you are,” he punctuated his words with a harsh bite from the tips of his teeth around your nipple, making a catalyst for the clear gush that trickled and spurted down his length and onto the kitchen counter. “Oh, you’re so sexy, you messy girl,” he whispered as his gaze went down to watch his dick push in and out of that pretty little pussy of yours.

You heard him curse under his breath before groaning, followed by heat that pooled inside of you as he cummed and unloaded his white release inside your tight cunt; he had completely ravaged your body with bruises on your hips where he had held you, bite marks on his chest, now his cloudy release spurting out of your spent hole.

🏷️ taglist: @elfven-blog @porcelainseashore @angelstargel @localkiss -> check my pinned post if you wanted to be added to the taglist; if you want to be deleted from it just message me privately.

a/n: father in law returns! I haven't written this type but they did get kinda popular on here and they were my favourite things to write hehe. I kinda fell off Leon content and I was planning on making a in law series with him but I kinda fell off the love for him for a bit; I still adore him but I think it's been obvious that I've been more involved with my anime fandoms at the moment. This is a multifandom blog, it's no longer the solely Leon blog it was at the start, so I am sorry if people get disappointed with the lack of resident evil stuff. However, pookie is not forgotten, I do have TWO planned one shots for him to come out during later November and December so the RE girlies will be fed haha

[gladiatorcunt]

- DIRT IN CHAINS | X.

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

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

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

kinktober 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hangman’s Joke. God, you wish.

“Hey, peach, ya miss me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll always have it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunnyissweet]

IM BAAAAAAAACCCKKK <3333 hoping to gain my moots bacc

[sky-kiss]

Orin/GN!Durge: Pride (18+)

A/N: Look just. I dunno. There's that fun lil' solo-satisfaction challenge going around but this is NOT tagged for that because no one should be burdened with Orin lol. But like...I thought it'd be a fun character study? So... now this exists. I'm sorry.

Orin/GN!Durge: Look, by Orin Standards this is Tame

Pride drives her to her bloodkin's bed. They are gone again, off to do the slave-lord's bidding. It tears at her. The memory of their last exchange haunts her, heavy like a touch, like lips tracking up her spine, a tongue pressing to the small of her back.

"Off again, is it? You fly from our pasture so often these days. Our sheep whisper, bloodkin." 

They smile, so pretty, so pale, teeth white, white, white—she likes them better flecked with blood, sank deep into the throat of their shared kills. "And what do Bhaal's sheep say?" 

Pride is why she touches herself. Bhaal's Chosen needs reminding. Orin slips beneath their sheets, leaving her scent on them. She winces, fingers dipping between her legs and finding herself dry. She rarely takes pleasure in something so banal, and the touch is such a little thing. Not sweet like a blade, barely anything at all. 

But she thinks, rotates the memory in her mind, and there. Better. 

"That you have made yourself the Tyrant's toy. Bane's Chosen, they say." 

And her bloodkin had laughed at her. Foolish Orin, fool child—always kept in the dark about their plans. Father’s plans. Orin bares her teeth, twisting. The sheets catch about her legs, silk-slippery, too soft, all of it. Hollow thing, empty thing—and the fingers are not enough, no, no. She thinks of the knife again (their knife, and Orin's stomach clenches, a sharp pang of arousal tearing through her), but cannot find the will to move.  The world narrows to a single point: their laugh. It echoes through her damned skull, slips its tendrils into her flesh, and so she slips a finger inside herself. 

Bhaal's Chosen crooks a finger, making her cross the space between them like one of their supplicants.  

Her heart thunders against its cage of bones, threatening to snap them, as her bloodkin's hand settles at the curve of her throat. They press—delicious pressure until the world's edges go black and curl inwards. "Sweet kin…you doubt our Dread Father?" They trace her cheek with their nose, voice like honey, syrupy-thick. Their left hand comes up, fingers curling against her clavicle, scratching, tapping, in time with her heart. 

She swallows, snarling. Tear it free, yes, tear the traitorous thing from her chest. It ought to have beat for Bhaal alone, but it hungered for her Bloodkin's touch. Weak-flesh, pathetic thing. She lifts her hips to press deeper. The moment she breaks from the memory, the pleasure washes back out to sea, and she cannot will it back. Orin thumps her fist against the mattress, turning her face into the pillow as if to suffocate herself with their scent. 

"The Lordling calls you away, and away you run. He bleats, and you turn your ear." 

Bhaal's Chosen ignores her. "Look at you." 

Her bloodkin hums, curling their fingers, breaking her skin. Orin chews the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. It aches to have them close—like her flesh is too tight. Like it should give way. Heretical thoughts flood her head—they are flawed things. Father made them incomplete. Orin's stomach twists. The answer is to tear them open, yes. Crawl inside, stitch their seams to hers—only then can they be truly whole. 

"Sweet Orin…my gift." 

Orin turns onto her belly, letting instinct wash over her as she sinks further into the memory. Her hand shifts, bones rearranging, stretching, setting until it's their hand. All its familiar calluses, nails sharper, threaten to tear at her insides. Good. Good...oh, it is written, decreed. It is Father Bhaal's will that they should tear one another apart.

"It will be you and I at the end of all things." 

They have whispered this same promise to each other over the years. They will drown the world in blood and carnage. They will build their citadels with its bleached bones and stand amidst the hollowed shells of its corpses. They will kill and kill and kill until it is only them. 

Pleasure swells, and she whimpers, dragging her nails up her belly to cup her breast. She clutches until the flesh gives way. She must imagine it's her bloodkin's nails, taking those few millimeters to press nearer to their heart. 

Orin thinks of the light leaving their eyes, burying her dagger in their heart. Perhaps she will pierce their lungs first, yes—swallow the last of their air…

The changeling shudders, fucking herself harder, gasping at the thought of her kin's knife finding its mark between her ribs. Yes, together. They'll go together, just as promised, just as…

Orin pulls taut, her cry short and clipped. The savageness of her orgasm and its suddenness catches her by surprise, her body clenching on nothing first and then gripping her fingers hard enough to hurt as they press back inside. The longing, the hunger, the emptiness…oh, all these wretched sensations remain…she is never enough to chase these things away. 

It will take more whispers in the dark, more blood, more promises…it will take their lips on her throat and the press of them between her legs as they bask in a fresh kill…

…it will take death, yes. Their blood and flesh mingled. And then Orin will be satisfied. 

[shockinglysubmissive]

The Video

Shigaraki needed some porn, and Dabi was willing to provide it, at a cost of course.

Warning: pseudo-incest (video of sibling), masturbation, degradation, unprotected sex, humiliation

Solo Shigaraki and Dabi x Karuna (OC)

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @dabislittlebeaniebaby @daniidil @dabislittlemouse

Being a villain means having to go deep into the shadows. That means, no internet for months at a time.

"Come on Dabi. You brag about all the sexy videos the mystery girl sends you. Share. I need something good to beat my cock to." Shigaraki practically whines, gloved hands reaching for Dabi's phone.

"Fine. But I'm warning you. You will regret this in the end." The devious smirk on Dabi's face doesn't deter the scrawny man. Scrolling through an album of photos and videos, he finally selects his favorite. It was the longest one in the collection. "I'll show it on one condition. You aren't allowed to cum until..." His finger drag across the screen, zooming through the video. "25 minutes 46 seconds."

"Whatever. Just give me it!" Shigaraki wets his lips with his tongue, hungrily waiting for the video.

"I'm not showing you until you swear. And trust me, I'll know of you lied to me." Dabi says firmly, holding the phone away from his boss.

"Fine fine. I promise. Now give me." He snatches the phone and runs off to his room. Moving so quickly, he didn't notice Dabi appearing amused, which would have given him his first clue to be concerned.

The preview of the video shows a stomach bulging out due to Dabi's cock buried deep inside them. Unable to wait any longer, he presses play, the video loading and suddenly spread legs fill the screen.

Black lace panties cling to a torturously wet pussy. "Go on. Told ya, bitch. You're not getting my cock today unless I get to film ya. Make it entertaining. You owe me for being a fucking brat." Dabi's voice growls from behind the camera. Eerily familiar manicured hands creep into the frame and slide the sticky panties off.

Shigaraki fights to take his belt and pants off with one hand, the other tightly gripping the phone, not wanting to miss a second of the twitching pussy showing on the screen. Growing frustrated with how long it is taking, he raises a gloved hand to his mouth, biting a finger to remove his hand from inside. With his lower clothing now nothing more than dust, he grips the base of his cock.

Turning his attention fully to the video, a grin spreads across his face as a dildo, too large for her tight hole, appears. Broken sobs, not even close to forming words fill his ears as inch by inch, the toy is sucked into her needy cunt. Only half of the toy was filling her, but babbles of "too much" and "gonna cum" are repeated over and over again.

"That thing is no bigger than me. Come on. You can take more." Shifting into frame slightly, a fully clothed Dabi leans over, gripping the suction cupped end of the toy, twisting and pumping it slowly. Heavenly whines, and desperate pleas to cum fall on Dabi's deaf ears. Ending his slow torture, he gives the toy one sharp thrust before burying it deep inside her. "Don't you dare fucking cum. I'll fucking cover your entire body with scorching hot cum if you even think about it. Now entertain me."

Shigaraki's eyes focus on the way her body tries to push the toy out, Dabi backing away to leave the frame again. Timing the jerk of his wrist with the shaky thrusts of the toy, he already feels himself nearing his release. Not wanting this to end, his fingers wrap tightly around his base. Feeling safe to release himself, he moves his hand down to roll his heavy balls.

His fingers massage his balls while the video plays, broken sobs ringing in his ears as she loses track of how long she's been fucking herself without release. Her legs started shaking minutes ago, and sweat glistened on her body before Dabi gave in.

"You want to cum bitch? Yeah, bet you do. But your only allowed to cum on my cock. So drop the toy." The sound of his belt being tossed aside is the only sound as her shaking hands toss the toy next to her on the bed, showing her puffy lips and clenching pussy. 

The camera moves, showing her full body, minus the fucked out face Shigaraki was desperate to see. Heavy breast bounce with each panting breath as Dabi settles himself between her legs. To his slight disbelief, Dabi hadn't been lying when he said the toy was about the same size as him. The biggest difference between the two were the lines of metal balls on each side of his shaft where his piercings were. 

The manicured hands trail gently over her chest, swirling mesmerizingly around the pert nipples. Shigaraki's mouth waters as he imaged how soft the skin would feel between his teeth, how pretty her pale skin would look with his teeth marks scattered around it. 

On the lower part of the video, the head of Dabi's cock disappears, a groan leaving his lips at what Shigaraki could only imagine was the softest walls pulling him deeper. A scarred hand grips one of her plush thighs as he bullies himself deeper, until every inch is nestled deep inside her. Judging by the way she squirms, the tip was pushing painfully against her cervix. 

"This must be where the thumbnail of the video came from…" Shigaraki thinks out loud, seeing the familiar stomach bulging once again. 

"I can feel you spasming. Don't fucking cum. You only cum when my seed is in your womb." Dabi growls, the hand previously on her thigh now gently smacking her clit. He gives no time for a response before fucking her the way her messy hole deserves. 

Covering the part of the video where Dabi was visible, Shigaraki fisted his cock in time with the wet slaps of skin, imagining he was the one causing the girl to fall apart and beg. He wanted to be the one who she was begging to fill with cum, not the burnt villain currently in that spot. He was getting dangerously close to the edge again, checking the time. 25 minutes 2 seconds. Just a bit longer and he will be able to cum. 

Dabi's thrusts became sloppy and rushed, the perfect cunt below him too irresistible to not breed. Smoke rises from his fingers, which had found their way back to her thighs. Shigaraki ignores the deep grunts as Dabi cums, choosing to focus on the soft whimpers as the girl realizes she's going to be allowed to cum now. 

The smoking fingers press against her clit, slowly teasing it just enough to push her over the edge. 25 minutes 43 seconds. Shigaraki pumps his cock faster hearing her riding out her high, coating his hand with his own cum. The camera pans up to the fucked out face of Karuna. Her black and blue hair fanned out on the pillow behind her head. 

A disgusted wail leaves his lips as he throws the phone to the foot of his bed. From behind the door, a deep laugh can be heard. Dabi walks in an grabs his phone from the bottom of the bed. 

"Thanks for that boss. Been needing a good laugh for a while. Now, I'm gonna go show this to your sister while I make her beg for my cock again." Waving the phone, Shigaraki finally notices the small red light indicating he had been filming himself the entire time. 

"Have any videos of her sucking dick? With all the shit she talks, bet you've fucked her face a few times. She look good covered in your cum?" Shigaraki asks. 

"You're a real pervert, boss. I'll send you the pictures later." Dabi winks before leaving the room to make Karuna deal with the throbbing erection he's been sporting since Shigaraki took his phone. 

[echoes-lighthouse]

Watching s6 of ricky and morty because I erased all but one episode from my brain by accident- can’t believe rick proposed to morty in front of tony hawk. lovely beachfront wedding. good work everyone.

[bachibabe]

pairing: bachira meguru x fem! reader

wc: 300

warnings: pseudo-incest, fem! reader, obsessive tendencies, just filth I’m thinking about right now 😞

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

I can’t stop thinking about sister fucker bachi and it’s causing me physical pain at this point

He’d be such a good big brother. He takes care of you, treats you so sweet. Makes sure to cook you dinner every nights and draw you hot baths. Ah, he loves the baths every night. Even though he promises to leave alone, every night he finds himself slipping in behind you. Gently washing you, cleaning your hair.

He can’t get enough of you. Your pretty skin, your gentle touch. All of it is perfect.

He’s so obsessed with you. He’s so obvious with it too. Clings to you every second he gets, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while you try to talk to your friends. Making you cling onto his arm, tits pressed so tight against him. He kisses all over her face. You always pull away when he tries to peck your lips in public, too embarrassed to let other people see. But every once and awhile he can steal one when you’re not paying attention.

His favourite was when he pecked your lips right in front of your crush. He kept his eyes locked with his, smiling into the kiss as he holds your chin in place. Not letting you pull away. That guy never talked to you again

He doesn’t care about what everybody else thinks. He wants everyone to know how much he loves you, wants everyone to see how he looks at you. How good he fucks you. Who you come begging to in the middle of the night. Who you belong to.

You’ve been together since you were little, and you’re gonna be together until they’re both dead and buried <33. He loves his baby sister so much and he wants everyone to know. He would never hide his love for someone he cares for so deeply. Someone who he’ll be with until the end.

He’s truly the ideal sister fucker, I think. <33

[quietwingsinthesky]

im NOT gonna be a freak on someone else’s post im not but. but. I See That Line One Sentence Above The One You’re Referencing, Prev. The One Where He Calls Them Like Siblings. 👀👀👀 I Can See It.

[fandomsoda]

Just found out a long-time follower of mine has a fucking alt where they post about basically every Dreamtale-related incest ship you can think of and fucking sh0t4c0n shit (word censored to avoid it being found in search). What the fuck.

So, very unfriendly reminder that THIS BLOG IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR ANYONE WHO MAKES OR ENJOYS ANY OF THAT SHIT. NO FUCKING PRO/SHIP BULLSHIT OR HORRENDOUS NONSENSE LIKE THAT. NOT EVEN ON AN ALT. IF YOU ARE EVEN VAGUELY OK WITH THAT, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

[andimlonely]

I am thinking about siscon Mickbell..

TW: incest ofc, possessiveness, size difference, unhealthy attachments/codependency, a tiny bit yandere?

////spoilers for Mickbell's backstory, fem reader

considering how attached he is to Kuro, who is basically his only family, I can only imagine how protective and clingy Mickbell would be if he had a pretty girl for a companion. So instead of finding Kuro alone, you're already by his side when Kuro joins your small- now a little less small- family.

Although he canonically has a sister, I kind of like the idea of found family tall-man! reader who is a little younger than Mick and also was left to fend for herself as a child. He probably meets you in a similarly dire situation to how he found Kuro, and though he got by on the principle of 'every man for himself' up until then, he's swayed by your endless stream of tears, the way you tug desperately at his shirt and plead him to help you, the way your position mirrored his own.

Since you're not a half-foot, you end up far outgrowing Mickbell, but he still takes to his role as your big brother, never letting you out of his or Kuro's sight, eating less when necessary to make sure you have plenty of food, snatching pretty things he thinks you'll like, fussing over you, discouraging your naturally trusting nature and reminding you the only one you can really count on is him (and Kuro, but him first). On the battlefield, Mick lacks the ability to properly protect you, but he makes sure to always at least hide where he can always see you, and orders Kuro to prioritize your safety. You, in turn, remain vigilant over the other two, and since you're proficient with a bow, you take it upon yourself to compensate for your brother's lack of self defense.

I like to think that growing up with you by his side has made him a little more considerate and courageous, but he's largely still stubborn and petulant, and in some ways less mature than you despite the age difference. That said, he's still more street smart than you are, and insists you stay close at all times. You trust Mickbell more than anyone, so you always do as you're told - mostly.

You know that you can't just trust anyone, but you also don't want to believe that everyone is out to get you either. You know that your brother is only looking out for you, but you think he's being overdramatic by insisting you don't get close to anyone else, and you want to show him that it's okay to rely on others too. And while his reluctance to trust anyone else is a major reason he dissuades you being friendly with others, it's not the only one. In reality, he's just as anxious about the possibility of you taking a liking to someone else and leaving him to join them instead.

Though he doesn't admit it to you, Mickbell is hyperaware of how ill-equipped he is to protect you, how you would be better off with someone of a different race. He's especially paranoid that you'd prefer a tall-man for a companion, and is especially insecure around any competent and good looking tall-man your party encounters. It doesn't help that other people make snide comments about the two of you, about how for a "big" brother, Mickbell is far less mature and dependable than you are (and yes, smaller than you). You always wave off their comments, reminding everyone that he saved you, and Kuro, and that even if you aren't actually related, he's a great brother, and an important member of the team. Your defenses always have Mickbell grinning smugly or sticking his tongue out at his detractors. Likewise, if anyone ever has a problem with you or even suggests anything negative about you, he'll defend you really fervently - even if the criticism was valid and put gently.

When you first joined Kabru's party, it was a bit of an adjustment for both of you. You weren't used to being around anyone but Mick and Kuro regularly, so you were a little nervous about making a good impression. Thankfully, everyone gets along well and before long, you could even say you're friends with everyone, growing particularly close to Daya and Holm. You're relieved that Mickbell also transitions into the party pretty easily. Still, the decrease in time with only each other is difficult at first, and means you have to find any opportunity to spend time together. Any time you aren't in battle, you're always at each other's side, your hand in his when you walk. Whenever you're sitting around the campfire, one of you is usually wrapped around the other - Mickbell's favorite is when he sits on something that elevates him enough so that when you're sitting on the floor in front of him, he can drape his arms around your shoulders while your party converses.

It's something your party has taken note of. Your closeness was of course expected, but sometimes it surpasses what most people would expect from siblings. Technically, they reason, it's not really that strange since you aren't actually related, but it still has your party members exchanging fleeting glances or avoiding eye contact at times.

Eventually Mickbell realizes it would be easier if he just didn't refer to you as his sister. Maybe if he called you his childhood friend or just a companion, no one would think twice when they saw you sharing a bed roll. But to call you anything less than his family would just feel.. insufficient. More than that, it wouldn't change the way you feel about each other when you're alone. You're everything to him, it's only ever been you and him. You're each other's first companions, first protectors, first kiss. And while you two are mindful to not be too affectionate around the others, when it's just you two, he reminds you just how much he adores you. Just how much it doesn't matter if you're taller or bigger than him, how much you've grown - he's still your big brother and he still knows how to take care of you best. And of course, he needs to make sure he's still your favorite.

[diejager]

Hmmmmmm Makarov with his daughter on her wedding day... she's ovulating but she powers through it and after drugging her husband to sleep Makarov claims 'their' wedding night

All the hard work and time your would-be-husband put into your wedding wasted when he wakes up confused and disoriented, deluded into thinking that you had consummated your wedding and spent your honeymoon somewhere that’s blurry in his mind.

And he’s honestly confused about your hesitation to see and visit your father, Makarov came out as such a caring father and a generous man that he’s proud and happy to call his step-father! It’s simply a perk that he’s so rich and powerful. He asks, but you seem to… shrug his worries off, to turn the conversation around when he tries to bring your awkwardness and discomfort around your Makarov up.

[eddywoww]

Look I don’t wanna push you and obviously it is up to you but I’m 1000000% down for them being “brothers”

Honestly yeah it fits the scenarios I have in mind. Very nearly taboo, co dependency and worship fullness

[fujoushi]

source: platinum blood

[secretspiritmoodboards]

Positivity for Dr. Starline, Kitsunami, and Surge (Sonic comics:Imposter Syndrome) For an anon!

So, Reading a bit up on these guys, I fully agree with you! There's so much good potential for them, and so many incredible dark topics that can be brought about with them.

Firstly, as you put in your ask, the pseudo-incest of it all. Starline did create them, and gave them his own type of life. That's enough for it to be something a bit taboo, and having seen them, inside and out, could have given him some sort of idea of what he'd want to do with them. Where he could've taken their cybernetic enhancements.

Alongside that, Surge and Kit knowing nothing but each other and Starline would mean they would turn to each other, and, if he's inserting himself, Starline himself.

Also, reading up on the hypnosis aspect is very interesting. Doing unspeakable things to someone because you can just make them forget and calm down is something I never knew I needed until right now. Even without the darker aspect, it's almost sweet, in a messed up way, to be able to calm someone down at the drop of a hat.

I also think that any time a villain's henchmen plan to overthrow them, there's always the perfect chance for both angst and comfort. Will they do so and turn their back on someone they consider their dad? Will they fall into line and obey him? Only time will tell.

There's lots of potential here, and I'm not huge into Sonic, but it's horrible I haven't heard of this ship until now! -Spirit

(Note: Sorry my mind has been going major dark recently, if anyone is ever uncomfortable with something I mention, please tell me and I'll eliminate that!)

[proship-pokespe]

123 123 123

Pryce x Silver (BitterLoveShipping) from Pokemon Special, requested by anon, with themes of possessive/abusiveness.