♡ chemically castrated cunt ♡ @kokocunt - Tumblr Blog

Mar 4, 2023

resident little sister touchers [reupload]

characters: various, female reader

contents: incest, noncon/dubcon elements, implied grooming, abusive dynamics, just gross shit lol

anon asked: top little sister touchers in ur opinion? i think the haitanis would make a good team considering how they fight. rindou holding you down, ran's hands all over you- oh god, they'd probably call it play fighting. they'd totally be into wrestling with you- "accidentally" giving you bruises, a busted lip, a broken arm. they play so unfairly- you'd beg them to stop and you'd get bitten. they're def ticklers too and when you wet yourself and start wailing they just roll their eyes and call you a baby. you wanted to follow them around like a big girl yet you can't handle a little bit of fighting? what do you think is gonna happen if they let you tag along? your big brothers are so nice, think about all the disgusting men who will want to fight you.

♡

so, the haitanis are great and all for this prompt, but how about the kawatas too? i mean, imagine sōya initially being too shy to do anything physical with his sweet little sister, but still being uncomfortably protective of you—always coddling and babying you to make sure you're okay, especially after nahoya has 'fun' with you. he loves his brother too, don't get him wrong, but he just thinks he can be a bit too mean to you. nahoya is also the "play fighting" that goes too far type, so sōya can't lie and say he doesn't get a little worried when he starts hearing you scream and cry, when you're alone with your oldest sibling.

though, he doesn't ever stop it from happening; no, if anything, he'll stand by the door and just listen, maybe watch if it's left open a crack. honestly, it's kind of relieving watching nahoya do all the things he thinks about doing with you for him instead—well, he doesn't want to hurt you like his twin does, but he wants to touch you so badly. even if he feels bad about it, he just wants to put his hands all over you and fold you in half, so he really can't control himself from fisting his cock, when he hears you beg nahoya to stop from inside the room. but y'know, nahoya's a good big brother to both of his baby siblings, so if he knows sōya is behind the door, he'll always invite him in to join you two.

—

but you know who the best big brother is? shinichiro! or well, that's what he'll make you believe, at least. from the moment you enter his life, he'll make you love him; always there to comfort you, always teaching you knew things, always making you feel loved. your first boyfriend (who he didn't approve of, but he can't stay mad at someone as cute as you) breaks your heart? don't worry, he'll hug you real tight while you cry into him, reassuring you that you don't need a boyfriend when you have your big bro. you're having really bad nightmares, even though your all grown up now? he doesn't judge! go ahead and sleep in his bed with him; he'll keep you safe and cuddle with you, lips against your earlobe as he whispers comforting words to you. your friends are making fun of you for being a virgin? he knows that sex is probably a little scary for you, so he's happy to be your first, if it means you'll be less embarrassed. i mean, sure, you feel kinda icky afterwards, but you know your big brother has your best interests in mind.

though, like i said, that's just what he wants you to think, and he glads it's working; to be honest, he just wants you to be his and his alone. girls don't exactly like him, so to have someone who loves him without thinking too much into how he treats them? he loves it—he loves you.

—

now, unlike the others, i don't think inui had any intentions with you, at first. honestly, it started off pretty innocent; he was just super overprotective of you, but, well, day after day of dragging you by his side to make sure you're safe, inui's thoughts about you just started getting more... corrupt. not necessarily towards you, at least—it was moreso that he just couldn't control the violent thoughts that got brought upon him everytime he saw you with another person, everytime you were without him; you could just be hanging out with your friends, and he'd still get irrationally jealous.

it didn't click with inui that his feelings for you were more than just that of a protective older brother, until he saw you kiss someone and his first thought was that it should've been him instead. needless to say, he started to become less protective and more possessive over you, after this realization—constantly hovering over you, never letting you leave the house without him, refusing to let you sleep in your own bed, not even letting you bathe by yourself. just the thought of you leaving his side made him angry, so still using the excuse that he's just overprotective, he'll slowly make you realize that the only person you'll ever need is your big brother seishu.

—

similarly, i'd imagine kazutora also being protective of his litte sister, even to the point of basically raising you. i mean, living in an abusive household, he'd be more that happy to anyways, especially with your unconditional love motivating him. you were his only solace in that house, so he really couldn't help but put in all his effort for you—you made him feel a special way. though, he didn't really understand what that feeling was, until you him and were both adults. at some point, he just couldn't see the baby sister he raised anymore; he saw a woman he loved, and he wanted to be disgusted with himself for that, but he couldn't think of a way to blame himself for loving you.

though, if there was anything, i guess he did kind of hate how he raised you. i mean, he really wasn't fit for the job, y'know? so he ended up just kinda sheltering you, and that lead to you being so naive—it would be unbelievably easy for some nasty people to take advantage of you, and he didn't think he was one of them. though, there could only be so many nights of jerking off to just the thought of you to the point his dick was rubbed raw before he had to do something about it, and you just... let him, like he expected, but he didn't feel as bad as he expected. sure, it hurt seeing you cry when he was getting a little rough with you, but after he finished and you two were about to go to sleep, you still kissed him on the cheek goodnight, like you always have; at that point, he just couldn't regret anything.

—

but you know who would hate himself over something like this? chifuyu. though, he's more of an honorable mention* because i don't think he could ever commit to doing this to his little sister; that's a little too personal, and he wouldn't be able to handle that guilt. however, what about a younger cousin that thinks of him as a big brother? someone who he doesn't see as often as say a sister, but still trusts and loves him the same? he'll still feel disgusted with himself, don't get him wrong, but he can at least make some excuses.

i mean, when was the last time he even saw you? he doesn't remember you looking that, well, mature, so he's sure you've changed a lot—you must have, considering the perfect little girl he used to know got kicked out of her parents' house. you're basically a different person now, right? yeah, so it isn't that weird that he's picturing what you look like under your clothes, right? fuck, even if he lies to himself like that, he knows he's wrong; that's exactly why he would wait until your asleep to do anything. he remembers you being a heavy sleeper from the few times you slept over at his house when you guys were younger, so he just prays to god you won't wake up when he slot his dick between your thighs. he'll go throw up and cry, whatever to get the disgust out of his system, afterwards, but the morning after, he'll tell you that you can stay with him for however long you need and then repeat the cycle all over again—maybe one day the guilt will get to him and he'll come clean to you, though.

#tw.incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tw dark content #tw abuse #tumblr pls don't take this down again :(

kokocunt

Feb 26, 2023

characters: hanma shūji, female reader (ft. kisaki tetta)

contents: mild dubcon, manipulation, past csa, trauma dumping, age gap (20+ years), vaginal sex, hurt/comfort vibe, probably ooc hanma but i do not care. not proof read lol

wc: 7.2k

"will you be fine on your own tonight?"

you shouldn't have said yes.

but, no—you wanted to be all mature and collected like, "dad, i'm nineteen now; i'll be fine by myself," when you're already sobbing into a pillow not even an hour after he left. your nails tear at the skin of your breasts so hard blood is drawn, screaming as if anyone could hear you from the top floor penthouse. fuck, if it wasn't for your empty stomach, you're sure you would have thrown up twice by now, instead of dry heaving so hard that you choke on air.

it's dramatic, it's grotesque; this is the worst it's been, but even then, it's just milder on other nights.

will this ever change?

i mean, it's been years and you don't even remember what exactly happened that night, but for some god forsaken reason, it still lingers. it's in the scent of your room, in the phantom hands groping your body, in the position you lay in, in the thoughts of intimacy you fear, in the arms of your loved ones—it's everywhere, and you can't escape, no matter what you do.

what can you even do?

with your dad's line of work, therapy isn't exactly an option, but even then, how are you supposed to talk to someone about how disgusting you feel when you don't know exactly what happened? you've tried it already and it doesn't seem to work, albeit kisaki tetta isn't exactly the best person to go to for anything emotional, but if not with your dad, what friends do you even have to go to? you haven't been able to let people into your life after what happened.

that fact makes tonight so much harder.

even if your father is emotionally unavailable, him simply being in the house with you is enough to keep your worst thoughts at bay. he sleeps with a loaded gun by his bed, so the possibility of someone breaking in and doing those things to you again is gone. he can't fix what happened, but your dad still makes you feel safe; that's been enough for you in these past few years.

but tonight is the first night he isn't here with you—well, when he had business to attend to during the night, he would at least wait around for you to fall asleep first, but this is the first time he's abandoned you so early; it's scary. the thoughts you've been able to ignore with him around now rear their ugly heads, and it's so scary. thoughts telling you to tear all your skin off so you don't have to feel the hands touching you, thoughts telling you to mutilate your vagina so you don't have to worry about someone forcing themself inside you ever again, thoughts telling you to nose dive off the balcony so you don't have to think about any of this anymore; god, they're terrifying.

you need an escape from them—no, you just want an escape; what you actually need is someone, anyone to be here with you to make you feel safe for tonight because you know there is no escape. because, at the end of the day, the only thing even close to an escape you have is what little bit of security someone can provide you. at the end of the day, there's nothing you can do to prevent you from losing it all.

at the end of the day, things never change.

so, you call up the only other contact on your phone other than your dad's, and pray he isn't working tonight

—

the buzz of the intercom scares you, even though you've been sitting in wait for the past hour for it to ring; you press on the button and tell the man on the ground floor to come on up, voice shaky. i mean, you can't be blamed for being nervous, right? sure, you know him, but you've never actually spent time with him alone—besides the fact that he's way older than you and hanging out with him by yourself would be weird, he just doesn't seem to care all that much about you.

but, if that was the case, then why would he show up tonight? is it because your dad isn't here this time?

oh god. was he waiting to get you alone so he could rape you and not get in trouble with his boss? waiting for the perfect opportunity to threaten you into not saying a word about the way he's going to toy with your body? your bedrooms don't have security cameras, so he wouldn't get caught that way either.

oh no.

no. no. no. no. not again.

even if he got caught, he's been friends with your dad for so long; it would be so easy for him to find a way to convince him that having sex was your idea. i mean, you're the one who called him over in the first place.

this was a bad idea. this was a horrible idea.

should you grab a knife from the kitchen? no, that wouldn't work; he has so many years of experience on you, especially in fights. he'd just rip the knife out of your hands, and then bend you over the nearest surface, ignoring as you scream for him to stop. or he might just pull out a gun on you, if you try to attack him. he'll push the nozzle against your cranium and tell you to get on your knees, and then, while you're sobbing, you'll have to—

"hey, sorry i took so long," hanma yawns, as he walks through the doors of the elevator. his presence snaps you out of your paranoia immediately.

what were you even thinking? hanma wouldn't do something like that; he's always been nice to you whenever you saw him. just because he's a gang member, that doesn't automatically mean he doesn't care about anyone or that he only wants to hurt you—you're just letting your nerves get the better of you. hell, that's the reason you called him over tonight.

you need to calm down, especially evident when hanma asks, "you okay? you're shaking a bit there, kid."

breathe in for four, hold for seven, breathe out for eight, and then repeat.

deep breaths go in and out of your lungs for about a minute before you finally turn to face hanma, who leans over you with his arms folded utop the backrest of the couch. you didn't take him as the patient type, but you're more than grateful that he isn't forcing you to rush a reaction. "i'm… hanging in there," you answer him, forcing a smile. he rubs your shoulder in what seems like a poor attempt to comfort, before he hops over the couch to sit down next to you; his touch and closeness make you tense up, but you try to ignore it by talking to him. "u-um, thank you for coming over… you, uh, really didn't have to, b-but i appreciate it—like a lot."

he lets out a small laugh before rubbing your shoulder again—you really don't like it. "no problem, girlie; i mean, kisaki would probably off me if i didn't tend to his baby when she needed it," he comments, lifting his hand off you to grab the remote. another deep breath escapes your lungs the second his hand is off you, which grabs hanma's attention. you mumble an apology, but he only sets the remote back down and turns to face you. "but, y'know, i didn't just come over because of kisaki; you sounded pretty horrible over the phone—crying and stuff like that." hanma reaches for you again, but this time, he grabs your hand instead of your shoulder; it's better, but you still don't feel comfortable with him touching you exactly. "is there anything you want to talk about, sweetheart?" though, you're especially uncomfortable with the newfound nickname he has for you.

still though, you feel like you would have recognized any malicious intent he would have had by now, and you haven't; he genuinely just seems concerned for you. i mean, he didn't have to come over, nor did he have to ask about anything—you even told him on the phone that you didn't care if he just wanted to go to sleep the minute he got here, and that all you needed from him was to stay the night with you.

yet, here he is, offering you some place to vent. offering you something you haven't had a chance to really do.

offering something that you need.

maybe hanma is what you've wanted this whole time.

maybe he can make things change.

sure, it might be odd to pour out all your trauma onto your dad's friend of all people, but he's here. hanma is here and cares enough to listen, which is what you've needed. with no access to mental health care, no friends, and no way to explain this correctly to your dad, hanma is the first person you have the chance to talk to properly about this.

you may not be the closest with him, but you trust him enough. and above all else, you want something to finally change.

you need this.

"can… can i get personal with you, hanma? i-if you don't mind…" you mumble, heart beating out of your chest as you prepare yourself for this conversation.

his eyebrows raise in surprise, but then a lighthearted smirk follows it up soon after. "of course; whatever you need," he confirms, which relieves some of the weight on your chest. but, still, you're not comfortable enough to talk yet.

you swallow your breath before questioning, "would you mind if i lie down while i talk?" to which he laughs and tells you that you didn't need to ask, but you felt it appropriate, as you decided to rest your head on his lap. thankfully, he didn't seem to mind that, nor does he seem bothered by how you maneuver your hand around so that you're grabbing his hand back—it starts to become comforting when it's mutual, and even though this is all a bit intimate, laying on hanma's lap and holding his hand makes you feel like nothing bad is going to happen.

it feels safe; something that you didn't think you'd feel with another person ever again.

but as you try to find a place to start talking, fragmented memories push to the front of your mind, and they make you want to scream. they're all incomprehensible, blurry images, and yet you want to run away and hide. all you can make out of your memories are the pain you felt, the blurry image of someone on top of you, and how much you cried—god, you might actually vomit if you linger on this too long, but you need to push through it. you're the only one who can make this change.

but even if it's all up to you, you're not alone; you're reminded of this when hanma squeezes your hand to comfort you, your struggle with racking your memories together visible to him. you look up to him, where he gives you a smile, and it helps you calm back down. you squeeze his hand back, take in a deep breath, and then close your eyes.

he's not a therapist, he's not your dad; you don't need to give an accurate account of what happened for him to believe you. just say what you think happened as it comes to mind.

don't think about it too much.

the deep breath you had just taken escapes through your nose before you start with, "i-i… think it happened when i was twelve…" you could've been thirteen too, though. did your birthday pass yet? you're not sure; all you remember is that you were in your first year of middle school. "dad had… some sort of party that night, i-i'm pretty sure…" you continue, but you think you might be making that part up. you know for sure that it happened at your house, but no clue about what was going on that day; though, it just makes sense that there were other people over, so a party will have to be the scene. "and… u-um… i was… i was in my bed…" that you remember the clearest; it's why you sleep on the couch most nights.

though, to hanma, it was clear you remembered that in particular because of the tears you didn't know were threatening to stream down your face. his thumb smooths over your knuckles to calm you down, as he tells you, "hey, i get what you're talking about now; you don't have to continue."

but you don't process his words—you can't; hanma's reassurance won't cut through the incomplete memories filling up your mind, even though you wish it would. "i-i just… i don't… i-i don't know w-who… how do i-i not know who d-did it…" you pry your hand away from hanma's so you can wrap your arms around your knees, curling yourself up into a fetal position; it's not as comforting as you wish it was—there never is comfort. "it-it… was… it hurt, s-so much… a-and… th-there was so much b-blood on my sheets the next morning, a-and i don't think i could even s-stand up either… b-but i—"

as your sobs start to make your rambling even harder to listen to, hanma sits you up to pull you into a hug, and while you want to peel all of your skin off at the feeling of another person touching you intimately, you grip onto him like a vice. his body pressed up against yours, encasing you—it does honestly make you feel sick, but you're too scared to let go at this point because, "d-dad didn't believe me, s-so i… i haven't told anyone else… a-and i've been s-s-so scared and alone…"

hanma seems to freeze for a second before pulling back, seemingly to say something, but you don't even consider that; you pull him back towards you hastily, face buried in his abdomen. "please! p-please don't go… i-i don't want to b-be… alone…" your panic quickly starts delving into desperation with each sob, leaving hanma left to pet your head like an animal to comfort you. "i-i just… i want it to stop… i want things t-to change… i'm so… s-so sick and tired of being sc-scared and… and mi-miserable over something i-i don't remember… i want it to s-stop… p-please make it stop…" even though you know hanma can't do anything other than listen, you still beg with him incoherently until your tears start to dry up.

…which then leads to embarrassment once you come to your senses.

and god, now that you can think a bit clearly, what have you been doing? convincing yourself that hanma could help you, trauma dumping onto your dad's friend, forcing him to comfort you, pleading with him to do something—who does that? you know it was a spur of the moment thing, but seriously, it's ridiculous. you feel ridiculous. i mean, you're supposed to be an adult for fucks sake, yet here you are, trying to make someone to take responsibilty over your unresolved problems like a child.

you'd probably break down again at the realization that you've never been able to actually mature since that day, if not for hanma's patient reassurance keeping you grounded—"are you feeling a bit better now after letting it all out, sweetheart?"

you nod your head and pull back from him, a shiver running up your spine when you're no longer touching; it's relieving, but at the same time, it leaves you feeling worse than before. though, you ignore it because, above all else, you really need to apologize to hanma. your hands come up to rub your eyes and wipe away all the snot and tears, while you tell the man, "i-i'm so, so sorry that you had to deal with that… i know you can't do anything, a-and i shouldn't have made you comfort me…" however, he dismisses your apology, telling you that you have nothing to be sorry for and that he would've already abandoned you if it was too much for him to handle. which does admittedly make you feel a bit better, if not a little surprised by his bluntness, but you still can't shake the awkwardness of the situation.

so, you mutter, "...um, w-well, thank you f-for putting up with me anyways…" after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. "y-you don't have to stay any longer, if you don't w-want to…" you offer him, even though you're really unsure if you can be left alone with your thoughts right now; though, you'd feel bad if you made him do anything else for you.

he's already done enough.

and yet—"well, i wouldn't feel too great leaving right after you had a breakdown"—he's still so generous to you.

but in all honesty, you feel… kind of weird, at this point.

i mean, of course you appreciate him being here, but you don't know what he's getting out of this; you're not sure why he would practically babysit his boss' daughter without some kind of incentive. sure, it could be out of the kindness of his heart, but things feel off, now that you're no longer blinded by your meltdown.

and as if to validate this weird feeling you have, hanma drops on you, "by the way, now that you've calmed down, i actually think i know how to help you move past this trauma of yours a bit."

this revelation of his makes you tense up. yeah, you've wanted help for so long, but there's something in the calmness of his voice and the smile on his face that makes you think it isn't the help you want. hell, you're already gotten what you wanted: someone to listen to you.

then, it finally dawns upon you that it isn't that hanma has done enough; it's that you don't want him to do anymore.

yet—"i think you would benefit from having sex; y'know, where you actually have control this time"—he's still trying to help.

and now the source of your unease is viscerally clear.

you know what you just heard him say; the idea itself makes you want to vomit, but knowing that he's suggesting you have sex with him, is something completely different.

something worse.

but you don't want to come off rude, after what he's done for you. "u-um… i-i-i don't know about t-that…" you mumble, scooching away from him ever so slightly, only for hanma to grab your hand. you jump at the contact and debate running upstairs into your dad's room to hide, but instead, you try to calm down, telling hanma, "i-i know you… you, uh… m-mean well… but i don't think i'm, um… ready for t-that yet. i-i mean, this is the first time i-i've even talked to someone ab-about this! it would be weird to—"

"haven't you been waiting years for things to get better?" hanma interrupts, his words cutting through you like a knife and stabbing you in the heart of the issue. i mean, of course you want to get better, but what he's getting at is that you don't know how to get better because of how long you suffered for—and he would be right.

in retrospect, you imagined your recovery to be something instantaneous; you get this dwelling pain off your chest to someone, and then you'll miracuously get better. but here you are after telling someone what happened, knowing that if he left right now that you'd be at your worst. you know opening up about this was just the first step, and you know you have to be willing to step out of your comfort zone of suffering to get better.

you know hanma's proposal is the only option on the table right now.

but you also know that you're not okay with this.

however, your hand still in his grasp, hanma stands and drags you up with him. "listen, i know this is all probably scary to you, but trust me, i only want to help," he starts, as he leads you to the stairs. your feet are moving on their own to follow him, but your heart is beating out of your chest; you were worried about him coming over just to violate you, and that's really about to happen isn't it?

but as if he could read your thoughts, hanma reassures you, "i mean, i don't exactly want to sleep with someone under half my age, let alone my boss' daughter, either, but like i said, you'd benefit from having consensual sex." and even though you're still uncomfortable, his comment does relieve your initial fear—that this is something he wanted to do to you. and to cement that relief, he confirms with you, "and i'd prefer you have sex with someone you know and trust. you do trust me, right?"

that's all there is to it.

you really need to stop thinking the worst of a situation

"yes, i do…" you mumble an answer, noticing he had stopped in his ascent up the stairs to hear from you. hanma gives you a smile in response, before pausing once again once he reaches the top of the steps; he asks you which room you want to use. instinctively, you were going to say your dad's room, but that's… weird. and besides that, you have to face this—all of it. "um… m-my room is the one at the end of the hall…" you say while pointing at the door, to which hanma responds accordingly.

this is okay.

you'll be okay.

when you walk into your room, you feel fine. i mean, you spend most of your time here—you just have trouble sleeping in your bed; that's all the issue is, so it's great that you're going to get past that too, after…

after you're all tired out from…

"go ahead and get comfy," hanma tells you, to which you oblige as if you were on autopilot. you hesitantly lie down face up, as you try to relax yourself.

you don't remember the last time you've laid in your bed; realistically, it couldn't have been that long, right? but then again, all you really do is sit at your desk all day, so maybe it has been a while. hell, you remember laying on your floor more than your bed; so, maybe that's why the feeling of your comforter engulfing you in warmth is so foreign. and, now that you think about it, the softness of your pillows feels like something you forgotten as well—

the shifting of weight on the bed snaps you out of your head.

now's not the time to get distracted.

even though your skin is crawling at the sight of hanma sitting at the foot of your bed, you can't retreat into your own head; it would probably be worse for you anyway.

i mean, it always starts with the little things—like your bed. but then, you start thinking about how you used to lay on your stomach when you were younger, and how you couldn't sleep without cuddling a pillow. then, there's a gap in your memories that always leads to you thinking about the pain you felt. the blood you bled. the tears you cried. the cum that was inside—

hanma's hands rest on top of your knees, and for the first time since you laid down, you're aware of your existence. you didn't even realize that you were sitting up, legs locked together, arms wrapped around yourself.

god, you need to stop thinking so much.

you need to focus.

but that's so hard of a task to do when—"do you want me to take off your clothes for you? it's up to you."—you don't want to be here right now.

you just need to remind yourself that this will help. this is for your betterment.

"i-i can do it myself, but um… do i have to t-take off all of it?" you ask confused, being that this is your first time doing this. much to your relief though, hanma assures you that you can do whatever you want; you call the shots tonight. which… does make you feel more confident in this, but—"well, y-you know, um… i don't really know what i'm doing, so-so, uh… maybe you… y-you should just…"

hanma lifts his hands off your knees and pushes you back down against the mattress as gently as possible, explaining to you, "just tell me to stop whenever you need." you're glad he understood what you were getting at, but the embarrassment of it all is the least of your concerns now that his hands are on your hips.

it takes all your willpower not to kick him as his thumbs finger the waistband of both your shorts and your underwear, but you still end up doing it; thankfully, it was more so just a shove than a full blown kick, and hanma seems fine with it, as he respectfully backs away in response. "l-like i said, i-i can do it… s-sorry, should have, um, been m-more clear…" you apologize, to which hanma only nods his head unfazed. thank god he's patient with you.

though, how much is his patience even helping? your hands tremble as they reach down to replace hanma's to nervously tug off your bottom wear, and it's still uncomfortable. the way hanma diligently watches you strip is uncomfortable. the cool air hitting your naked pussy is uncomfortable. telling hanma, "y-you can… uh… go ahead… i-i guess…" is uncomfortable.

no matter how good hanma is to you, you're still so uncomfortable.

and it doesn't help that he has to forcefully pry your legs apart to get access to your cunt, even though that's more so your fault. but once he does, you can only stare up at the ceiling and take deep, methodical breaths—don't freak out. if you can't get past the discomfort, then the least you can do right now is not panic, even though you already feel like screaming at just the touch of hanma fingers.

you cement your feet into your mattress and clench your jaw shut to the point it hurts, as he spreads your lips apart with his index and ring fingers. his middle runs up and down your folds, with you getting more nauseous every time he makes contact with your clit, but then he suddenly dips the whole finger inside of you without warning, causing you to let out an almost grotesque squeal; you immediately apologize, even though you didn't even do anything—even though you're actually kind of pissed that he did that.

it was his fault, and hanma knows that, especially telling by his laugh as he pulls his finger out of you. to your surprise, his finger is covered in slick; i guess being at war with your body for so many years has made you unaware of how it reacts because he didn't really do anything that turned you on. in fact, you are still pretty sick at just the idea of doing this, let alone actually going through with it.

or so you thought, until hanma's tongue lapped up all your juices left on his finger and what little that started sliding down his "sin" hand.

i mean, you always thought he was an attractive man, but him doing something so… erotic makes you feel so many emotions. another layer of nausea gets added on at the fact that he's so unfazed about tasting you, maybe even into it, but you're not any better—you can feel heat rising in your cheeks, and you can't even take your eyes off him, until he opens his mouth.

"sorry, sorry; i know i shouldn't be too playful with you," he apologizes, which makes you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding on. his apology relieves you of a bit of tension, and it results in a smile from hanma. "i just wanted to make sure you wouldn't freak out when i actually went down on you, and i mean—you didn't panic all that much when i shoved my fingers in you, so guess i'm in the clear," he explains, before he finds his place back in between your legs.

you don't understand his methods, nor do you really want to; he seems like he knows what he's doing, so you'll just go along with it. besides, you figured he has plenty of experience just by looking at him, so who are you to say anything to begin with? i mean, regardless of what his intentions were doing… all of that, hanma managed to pull your attention away from what's going on, and that helps you calm down for a bit. hell, you don't even react when his tongue glides up your slit

well, not immediately, at least.

your breath hitches when the tip of his tongue reaches your clit, and it all suddenly comes crashing back down. the vision of an attractive man between your legs was what was keeping your mind elsewhere, but an actual touch whiplashes you back into sobriety.

back into the reality of what's happening.

and the nausea settles back tenfold.

albeit, there's also a churning in your lower abdomen as he sucks on your clit which could very well be the brunt of how sick you suddenly feel, but regardless, you think you might actually vomit the more you stay in your head. just grappling with the fact that this is happening—that your dad's friend is going to fuck you—is hard enough, let alone actually being touched like this after so long of fearing it. it's just… too much to handle, especially when hanma's fingers find their way back inside of you.

you need to tell him to stop; he said he would if you did.

but when you open your mouth to say something, his long, slender fingers reach a sensitive spot inside you that you didn't even know existed, and all that comes out is a whiny moan.

it's supposed to feel good, but the closer he pushes you to finishing, your body starts remembering how it felt the first time you came.

when you were forced to.

when you were so young that it happened maybe weeks after you just started puberty.

when your body didn't know how to respond to what was happening.

your body still doesn't know how to responds

your legs are over hanma's shoulders, so you end up slamming your foot down onto his back to make him stop. you don't even realize you did that until he removes himself from you. he looks pissed with you, and you are too.

you're so pathetic.

but, as always, hanma reassures you, "alright, alright—i'm sorry. we can stop now, if that's what you want," even if his tone sounds a bit annoyed. he wipes his mouth and chin of your slick, before attempting to get up.

but you wrap your arms around him before he can get off the bed. "n-no…" you plead, and he looks back at you confused.

you're going to tough it out. you're going to change.

even if you're scared. even if your body won't like it. even if you think it's weird to do this with hanma.

even if you don't want to.

"no, i-i'm sorry, hanma… i should've just said something…" you apologize, your voice sounding choked up as you fight off the urge to cry. he turns around to you and reaches to give you a hug, but you grab his hands and look him in the eyes. "l-look, i just… i-i don't think i can handle, um… too much… so, c-can we just, like… uh…"

you're not really an adult; saying what you want outright embarrasses you, and you can't deal with anything sexual without feeling bashful. you're a nineteen year old child who needs an adult to walk you through this, and hanma knows that. "you wanna skip the foreplay, right?" he confirms with you, to which you shyly nod your head. he chuckles in response, "that's fine by me; i just wanted to make sure i didn't go in dry—it's your real first time, y'know?" before crawling over you to lay down on the bed.

you turn around to face him, confused as to why he's the one laying down, but he answers your question before you can even ask it. "listen, i know you said you wanted me to do all the work, but you don't tell me anything—and, to be honest, i don't wanna get kicked again," he explains with a bit of lingering annoyance in his tone, as he reaches for something in his pocket. you want to apologize for that again, but he interrupts you by tossing a condom onto your lap, then continuing, "so, instead, how about you be on top and go at your own pace, sweetheart?"

it's not a suggestion; he's already tugging his sweats down his thighs so he can pull out his dick, and you're suddenly way more nervous than you were before. i mean, you don't know what you were expecting, but he's big—way too big for you, at least.

you really didn't want this time to hurt too.

but before you have the chance to retreat back into your mind, hanma points at your hands, and you remember that you're holding a condom. "oh! u-um… uh…" why would he hand this to the inexperienced one here? "m-my hands… they're, uh, s-sweaty, so could you, like, d-do it?"

hanma rolls his eyes—you think it's in jest, or at least, you hope he isn't actually anymore annoyed—and snatches the condom out of your hands; he opens it and rolls it down onto his length faster than you can even prepare yourself for this. "it's your turn now, for real," he comments, carelessly tossing the opened wrapper somewhere into the darkness of your room.

despite what you had hoped, you can tell his patience is running thin—it's most noticeably in his deadpan expression. there's no sight of that reassuring smile he has been giving you all night when he orders you to do your part, and not to mention his mannerisms are slowly getting more aggressive. and as if to prove his growing impatience, he grabs your fidgeting hands and pulls you towards him, placing them flat onto his chest.

if you weren't reluctant before, then you sure as hell are now. maybe even scared a little.

but you said you were going to tough this out, didn't you?

so, you follow hanma's lead and toss one of your legs over him, balancing yourself on his chest; this results in a soft smile from him, and a weight feels like it's been lifted off your shoulders at the sight of it. your hesitation was annoying him, but he isn't actually mad, even adding a proud "attagirl" with his grin—guess that's one thing out of the way.

the real daunting issue at hand, however, presents itself as hanma helping position his tip at your entrance, where you're supposed to lower yourself down now. just the thought is making your heart race and a cold chill go up your spine, and it doesn't help that you can feel what you think is precum sticking onto your folds now mixed with the cool air; it all just feels… so uncomfortable. so wrong.

just a little more left, though. you're so close—you can't bail out now.

you take the deepest breath you can muster and screw your eyelids shut, before slowly lowering your hips, and for the first few centimeters, you had thought you were overthinking things—but then, just one centimeter deeper, you felt a certain sting you had forgotten.

and with it, you heard a little girl cry.

your heart stops for a moment, your eyes shoot open. you don't think you can breathe. the pain was only fleeting, the pain wasn't even an issue, but you feel like you're dying.

no.

that little girl is the one who feels like she's dying right now—not you. her pain is never ending, and she always drags you into her suffering; it's why you've been in this hell for years.

every night, you're forced to hear her cry, and it makes you sick. baring that little girl's agony with her tears you apart; it's been ruining you

and right now is no different, except for the fact that you're trying to ignore her.

you grit your teeth and squint your eyes tight to the point you think you're going to hurt yourself, while forcing your hips down until the full length is inside of you. however, your efforts of drowning out the little girl's sobs are in vain because she starts to scream at the feeling of you getting stretched out. you only thought it was a bit uncomfortable, but she's making you feel so much worse.

and, "you're doing great, sweetheart," hanma isn't making anything better either. honestly, you forgot he was even here; you only took notice of him talking because his hands have found a place on your hips, and it's making her scream more. you don't even take the time to move them off, though—you just want to get through this.

but when you finally start to move, she starts begging you to stop, and you can only respond by bouncing your hips faster than you can handle.

it's awful.

you hate everything about this.

the crying, the discomfort of something inside you, the screaming, the thumping against your cervix, the pleading, the tightness building in your lower abdomen.

why did you agree to this?

a hand comes up to your face to wipe the tears that you didn't even realize were coming from your eyes. "hey, i told you we can stop whenever; you don't need to force yourself."

everytime hanma tries to reassure you that you don't have to do this, the guilt you feel for disappointing yourself is unmatched. you keep telling yourself you're going to tough it out, but everytime, you start to crack when your mind wanders—and you hate it the most out of anything happening right now.

you agreed to this because you wanted something, anything to change, and change isn't supposed to be easy.

change is supposed to hurt.

you slap hanma's hand away from your face, letting your tears flow freely, and start to grind your hips against him again, while the little girl wails 'stop' or 'it hurts' in your head. you really just can't ignore her, no matter how much you want to.

no, instead, you have to hurt her more—put her through so much pain that she dies.

and so, you'll do just that; raising your hips, forcing them back down, while your face becomes disgusting with tears and snot. the gross sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room of your quiet penthouse, along with your moan-like sobs and the occasional grunt from under you, and an all too familiar pressure being pounded closer and closer until release.

it all makes her scream and beg louder, cry harder, with each passing second, until your body jolts—a shiver runs up your spine, your lips tremble. there's a white noise ringing in your ears, muting the little girl.

you feel like you've been engulfed in static. even though the hands that are on your hips continue to move you, riding out your orgasm, you don't feel much. you feel fuzzy, but you can't even tell if it feels good or not.

before you know it, you're laying back down on your bed. your pussy throbs, hole clenching around nothing, and your heart is beating so fast that it feels like it's going to stop any second. your sight is blurry with tears, but you don't know if you're still crying; though, your eyes still dart around aimlessly, catching a glimpse of a used condom being tied and then thrown somewhere.

there's weight shifting around your bed, you think someone's talking to you while it happens, but you can't hear them. a warm comforter is brought over you, and the weight now rests besides you.

your mind goes blank, the sight of the little girl completely lost.

—

you wake up more refreshed than usual, but there's an ache between your thighs and a pounding in your head, on top of feeling as gross as any other day. though, you're not plagued by discomfort while laying in your bed, so you shut your eyes again, ready to sleep away your headache; unfortunately, indistinguishable yelling from downstairs denies you of your rest.

guess you should go see what the commotion is.

though, the first step out of your bed and you almost collapse. i mean, you're well aware that you had sex, but you don't exactly remember the last bits too well; once your younger self left, you did too. maybe you pushed yourself a little too hard, but if that meant being able to lay in your bed without having nightmares for at least one night, you were fine with it.

but nevertheless, you have to face the day too, to see if things have actually changed.

you drag yourself over to your dresser to put on clean underwear, before pulling your comforter off the bed. you wrap the warmth around yourself, and head out of your room, trying not to trip over yourself.

"you slept with my daughter." looking over the railing to the floor below, you see your dad holding up hanma against the wall with a gun. right… he's probably enraged about that, for good reason. "give me one fucking reason i shouldn't lodge a bullet into your skull, hanma shūji."

though, hanma looks relaxed, delighted even about a gun being pointed at him, as if this isn't a big deal at all. "well, kisaki, i don't think you want your daughter to witness a murder, right?" he answers, gesturing over to you upstairs. your dad looks up at you in shock, before hanma adds on, "i especially don't think she'd like to see the last guy she fucked shot right in front of her, yeah?"

your dad snaps back to hanma, ready to shoot him point blank for that comment, but he resists the urge because of you. he socks the man in his gut, before turning back to you. "sweetheart, please go back to your room," he asks through gritted teeth, tucking the gun into the holster under his arm. he's trying not to scare you, but you're still concerned about hanma. "i said, go back to your—"

"please don't be mad at hanma!" you plead, resulting in a surprised look from your father.

"yeah… exactly…" hanma mutters, holding his stomach where he was punched. "like i said, i was trying to help her out… you know, help her recover from what you did."

what?

you stare at hanma with bewilderment, and your dad looks at him just as confused… you think, at least.

hanma gives you an all too knowing look, before turning back to the man in front of him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? i mean, you're the one who raped your daughter in the first place."

you heart drops.

and when you hear the little girl, back from nowhere, cry 'dad, you're hurting me,' your body drops to the floor too.

you were right; there's no escape to all of this.

#tw dubcon #tw past trauma #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuuji x reader #tw dark content #tw age gap #this was written in the span of 6 months #so its probably not my best work #but its nice to post again

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