♡ gender unspecified reader. jealousy, possessiveness (reader towards dexter). anger issues (reader). reader has repressed murder tendencies. manslaughter/murder cover-up (dexter and reader). depictions of gore. sibling kissing. reader is a lil freaky about dexter being bloodied.
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imagine you and your brother dexter getting adopted by the morgan family. you, who always clutched tightly to dexter. you're practically inseparable, though that's mostly on account of your clinginess.
but you're otherwise the perfect child - withdrawn, dutiful, getting along better with your foster mother than your other two new family members. always cleaning up, tidying up beds, getting lunches ready - always stuffing another granola bar in dexter's lunch because that specific flavour is the one he likes.
things with debra are horrible. you're always antagonizing each other, subtly underdoing each other's work, tattling to your mom and dad about every other thing.
only dexter can get you to behave, his brow setting and lips pressed together. "that's not how we're supposed to act."
the conflict with debra is really the only issue you have with your adopted family- that and how venemously protective you are of dexter. going somewhere? you need to sit beside him. he stole debra's food? you'll either own up to it and proclaim that he'd do no such thing. (you watched him eat it.)
but you don't display the same tendencies as your brother; so when harry takes you out, sitting you in a boat and asking if you ever felt urges... you say no. because you haven't. not in the same way that dexter does. but all the same, he knows something is off.
and when dexter comes home with bloodied shoes, you clean it off, scrubbing your fingertips raw. when someone is bothering you, picking on someone, you tell dexter first. ride home, call dexter. want to go to the theatre, call dexter. nightmare, crawling into dexter's bed.
harry is, understandably concerned at how close you are with dexter but doesn't act on it. yet.
but there's a yawning reach inside you, something that demands to snap, a temper short and fists fast. but dexter always takes you back, reminding you how to act. to behave. though he never reprimands you whenever you deck someone for calling your brother "weird".
when he goes to the dance, you sit at home, knuckles tight, breath hot as you think of some girl putting hands on your dexter. but when he comes home, tells you how boring it is, you exhale, breath shuddering in your chest. because he's still yours.
still yours even when he comes home with lipstick stains on his neck, yours when he comes into your room the second you make a distressed noise. he's yours when he catches you staring at your hand once when you cut your palm, watching the blood rain down your wrist (and it haunts like a memory). yours when his calloused hands, strange cuts on his own palms as he wraps your hand up.
he's yours, yours, yours.
and you'll hurt anyone who gets in your way.
but even then he's yours when he's teaching you to drive and he's talking about some girl harry wants him to see. about debra who grabbed his sweater without asking.
you see red, red, red, and hear a woman screaming as your foot hits the metal. only interrupted by dexter's calm "there's a person in the road" moments before you crunch right into them.
neither of you move, sitting their casually in the car, as if you didn't just run someone over. the windows are down, the evening air washing over your skin. you can hear moaning and crying outside your window. can see dexter's eyes watch you through the rearview mirror. he doesn't say anything.
but neither do you.
he doesn't say anything when you reserve the car and rev right back over them, feeling the car jolt beneath you both. you continue to smear guts and entrails over the pavement until the sounds stop.
"stay here." he says, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, jaw setting as he unclips his belt. you watch him through the rearview window as he opens the trunk, pulling out bags and some cleaning junk that he left inside.
when you climb out, he passes you a pair of gloves. something inside you squirms, hot and sticky, as you look at the gore pressed into the tires. seeing dexter work, muscles flexing under his shirt, mouth drawn into a thin line, pulling intestines from the undercarriage.
an itch started inside you, gnawing at your gut and bones, a presence that demands the harvest. as always, you listen to every word dexter says, every command as he helps you clean up the mess.
washing the asphalt is harder but gallons of water pours the mess down the gutters. cleaning out the front grill is harder but - dexter does it all. telling you quietly as he always does how to take care of things like this.
that yawning hunger doesn't relent. doesn't relent when you two hose down the car and wash off your hands.
"you need to calm down," he says quietly, finally as he sits in the driver's seat. your pulse is beating fast in your chest. he's noticed. he always notices.
reaching over, you brush your fingers over his cheek, smearing the blood over his cheekbone. his eyes dart to you then back towards the road.
when he continues speaking, beginning to talk about rules and guidelines, a code that you don't care to understand for, you unclip your seatbelt and reach over, pulling him towards you and kissing him like a part of you is trying to eat him.
"we're not supposed to do this." dexter says, brow furrowed. he always says things like that to you; like he's memorizing a guidebook. maybe you don't give a fuck.
"we're not supposed to run over a guy, not call the cops and cover it up either," you say. "I think we're past the point of what's allowed."
"oh," he says, as if he hadn't thought of that. and this time, he doesn't stop you when you kiss him again, when you lick the blood spatters off his face, when you all but shove your tongue down his throat and crawl into his lap.
dexter doesn't tell harry about you. but he doesn't go out with girls (or boys) anymore, even though harry sighs and tries to coax him. tries to coax you too.
and if you're a little less angry, a little less ferocious, and that's something.
(later, when the family goes hunting minus doris, harry catches you just watching a fox struggle in a bear trap, doing nothing to put it out of its misery or looking away. and as his heart sinks, he realizes that maybe he should have paid attention to you too.
but when he brings you up to dexter, your poor, sweet brother just shakes his head and says, "no, they're not like me". because as much as you protect him, he protects you, too.)
when harry finally passes, dexter is the one who takes your hand and leads you away. debra laments about how siblings shouldn't share apartments but it doesn't matter. none of it matters when you know, feel it in your bones, that dexter won't leave you.
Hii, I don't know if you do requests but could we get Jimmy x sibling reader who, as teenagers/young adults do, decide to sexually experiment... but with each other? Preferably not full on non-con but as dubious or wild as you want. 🙏 Danke.
eeep i love this req... this is the quickest ive ever written a fic because i usually procrastinate so much 😭 brother jimmy just does smth to me.. i hope this is decent :p
—
older brother!Jimmy Zare x younger sibling!reader
gender neutral reader, genitals aren't clearly defined
genre: smut, dark fic
word count: 1.8k
warnings/content: dead dove, yours and jimmy's ages aren't explicitly specified but youre referred to as teenagers, incest, creampie, mention of parental abuse, codependency, you lose your virginity to each other, (how sweet ^_^) jimmy's a perv and an asshole ofc
Jimmy was annoying, as older brothers tend to be. You two would always bicker about things that didn't even matter in the long run. Ever since you were kids, he'd pick on you, stick gum in your hair, wrestle you to the ground and punch you in the back of the head; Normal sibling behavior.
Well, at least to you two, it was just how family treated each other. You shared the same abusive shithead of a father, after all. That's the one thing you had in common always brought you together in the end.
When Jimmy and your dad got in a fight and he'd stomp his way into his room, slamming the door behind him so hard you feared the hinges would break clean off, you'd always come and check on him. See if there were any fresh wounds you needed to tend to. He was still your brother after all, no matter how much he could infuriate you.
He'd rather eat dirt and glass mixed together and wash it down with a glass of gasoline than admit that he needed you. Needed your late night talks, bitching to eachother about life. Needed those moments where you'd pass a cigarette back and forth on the front porch at sunset, listening to the neighbors old dog yap at a squirrel across the chain link fence that caged him in his yard.
He needed you to keep him in check whenever he would slip into a depressive episode. Give him the whole, "Yeah, life sucks, but you don't need to kill yourself about it" pep talk.
In fact, the only reason you've stuck around is for Jimmy. If he wasn't born, you would've stolen your dad's truck, wallet, and drove seven states away. But the universe gave you an unstable older brother, and you'd rather not come home to see him dead. You kept him alive, and he was your responsibility.
Codependency combined with teenage hormones isn't a good mix, because that means you'll do anything for him, even at the expense of your dignity. You aren't stupid, you know he's bullshitting you when he walks into your room while you're half naked, claiming it was accidental, and that he was just looking for something which wasn't in your room to begin with. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your body when you're wearing a tight fitting shirt, and then promptly excuses himself to his room. The walls between your room and his are thin, so you don't miss the sound of his groans and heavy breathing either.
What kind of little sibling would you be if you didn't help him out a little? Gotta give him some sort of practice for the future, don't you? Your poor big brother, all pent up and aching, puberty not helping to alleviate his constant horniness. And in all honesty, you haven't been able to get yourself off properly in a good while.
So one night, you go into his room without a word, his hand already reaching for his bedside drawer, which you already know contains porno mags he shoplifted from the gas station down the street. With an eye roll and that all too familiar glare of annoyance, he speaks, "Don't you ever fuckin' knock? Jesus..."
You pay no mind to his attitude. You're not here to pick a fight. In fact, he'll be grateful for your presence soon enough. "Am I not allowed to hang out with my brother?" You can't hold back your grin at your own teasing, which aggravates him further. "Not if you don't need anything. Get out."
Ignoring him once again, you approach him and sit right beside him on the bed. "Chill. I just wanted to ask you something." His eyes drift down your body, like they've done so many times before. You're intentionally wearing the shirt he likes. The one that gets him hot and bothered. Secretly, you're thrilled he noticed.
Jimmy stays silent, awaiting the question that's so imperative that you postponed his jerk off session.
"Have you ever fucked anyone before?"
You can hardly believe the words coming from your own mouth, and neither can he, his eyes widening with an indescribable emotion. Disgust? Discomfort? Bafflement? All three?
"What the fuck?" He scoffs, scooting away from you, but you don't allow him to escape that easily. You immediately get right back to your original distance.
"Have you?" You ask again, persistent as ever. He groans, covering his face in embarrassment.
"You're fucked up, you know that? Why the hell do you wanna know?"
"Because I'm tired of hearing you jerk off all the time. You obviously don't have anyone to fuck, or you wouldn't need those magazines to get off." You call him out, and it's clear your words ring truth, because he becomes increasingly flustered.
"Okay, what's your fuckin' point? You come in here to call me a virgin loser or somethin'?" He huffs, nudging you away as you draw yourself in closer. You grab his wrist to stop him from putting any sort of space between the two of you.
"Not this time, no. I actually wanna help you out." Your offer hangs in the air for a moment. He's speechless for the first time in his life.
"I've seen how you look at me. Don't try to deny anything. You're a teenage boy, I get it. It's fine." You break the tense silence between you by rambling. You actually feel a bit nervous now. What if he kicks you out of his room? What if you permanently made everything weird between the two of you?
"...And how are you gonna 'help' me, huh?" He still has that irritated edge to his tone, yet he's clearly intrigued. You decide to ease him up a bit. Test the waters, so to speak. Your hand finds it's way to his inner thigh, the outline of his cock already visible through his sweatpants.
"How do you want me to help you?"
—
And that's how you found yourself with his cock in your mouth, giving him his first blowjob. He's bigger than you expected, but as a devoted sibling, you force yourself to take it. You've gotta get some practice too, learn how to suppress your gag reflex. What better way to do that than suck your big brother off?
"Fuck— shit, you fuckin'... You're such a fucking whore. You like choking on your brother's dick, huh? You're a sick little bitch, you know that?" He grunts, degrading you for your actions like he didn't beat his dick fantasizing about this exact scenario several times. You simply hum in response. It's all you can do with your mouth full. You wouldn't consider yourself sick; just a thoughtful younger sibling.
It doesn't take long for Jimmy to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your mouth off his cock, breathing stuttering as he attempts to calm himself down. He was getting close already. That alone makes you feel an immense sense of pride.
Jimmy grabs you and flips you over to your stomach with surprising ease, eliciting a yelp from you at his sudden manhandling. Greedy hands pull your shorts down to reveal your ass, a husky groan leaving his throat at the sight. "Jesus, ain't I a lucky bastard... havin' a little slut for a sibling. A slut with the hottest body I've ever fuckin' seen, no less."
He really has won the sibling lottery hasn't he?
You wince as he slips the head of his cock into your hole, losing your virginity along with him. You never expected your first time to be like this, not that you were expecting something all that special, either. Actually, you anticipated mediocre sex with some acceptably attractive guy named Kyle or Liam. This is marginally better, because at least Jimmy has a big dick.
And he's cute, but you wouldn't tell him that.
Jimmy lets out a deep, gutteral noise as he stretches your virgin hole around him, the feeling of your warm, gummy insides even better than he imagined. "Sh– Shit, you're tight. Gonna cut off my fuckin' circulation." He says with a strained groan, gripping your hips for support as he hovers over your body. He eventually inches his way in, balls deep inside of you, and god, can you feel it. All of him, all the way to your stomach. Sibling bonding has never felt this good.
"Ghh– fuck, you're big, Jim." You cover your mouth to suppress your own noises out of the fear that your father would hear you two. Although, it's probably a futile effort. Jimmy's bedframe is the squeakiest thing on the Earth after a lifetime of sleeping on it. All you can do is pray your dear ol' dad is passed out drunk on the couch again.
"Mhm." He agrees with your statement, his cockiness making you want to take it back, but before you can think of a retort, he thrusts, slow and experimental, causing you to lose your train of thought. A moan involuntarily leaves your lips. Jesus, how is he getting his cock to rub you in all the right places?
His gentle pace doesn't last very long, because soon enough, he's rutting into you in a way you can only describe as animalistic, the sound of his balls slapping against you filling the room, along with the string of grunts, growls, and curse words muttered under his breath. You bite down on his blanket, the material thick enough to keep you quiet as whimpering moans escape your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hole clenching around him whenever he hits a particularly pleasurable spot.
"God, if you keep squeezing me like that..." He trails off, sentence devolving into uneven breaths.
"Mmh– Yeah? I feel that good, huh?" You grin, eyes half lidded and already drunk off his dick, proud of yourself for making your big brother almost cum so quickly. Twice. Jimmy scoffs, rolling his eyes at your arrogance.
"Don't let it get to your head." He mutters. You still manage to annoy him when he's fucking you senseless.
You absolutely do let it get to your head when he cums, and an uncharacteristic whimper rips from deep inside his chest as he spills a massive, thick load inside your hole. You feel every ounce of the warm fluid filling you to the brim. Your own orgasm hits you, the hot wave of pleasure that washes over you like nothing you've ever experienced.
Jimmy collapses on top of you, sweaty chest pressed against your back. He's pretty lanky, so thankfully it's not enough weight to crush your lungs. After a minute of catching his breath, he sits up, and you follow suit. While he's slipping his boxers and old tank top with several ugly holes in the fabric back on, he says, "I'm gonna go smoke. You comin' with me?"
You would laugh at the absurdity of his offer if he didn't just exhaust you by pounding your guts. So after you clean yourself up and get dressed you follow him outside, where the sun is setting and the neighbors dog is just as irritating as ever.
Coming off anon (this was my request) and ourghhhh this is so brilliant. The sibling casually manipulating Jimmy/initiating is so good. And it feels so domestic too, just bonding over the dad and shared hostile environment. Urgghh. I'm ravenous for your writing.
♡ suggestive content. ♡ incest (step or bio idc) ♡ a little possessive ♡
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brother!armin who has tried so hard to repress his feelings for his sibling,
whose breath catches when you're both in marley, renting a hotel room and the clerk goes "arlert? ah, the honeymoonsuite for the newly weds, hm?" and neither of you blink because,
once you both shared a bed (a lot of times actually) as children, and it's not uncommon for both of you to climb onto each other's mattress during training when the trauma became too much
brother!armin who feels his heart jump into his throat during trost, when he thinks he's lost you too, alongside everything else
brother!armin who holds you tight when he makes it out of shiganshina, terror in his veins thinking 'thank god it wasn't you'
brother!armin whose expression furrowed when jean - levi - sasha - even mikasa talked to you and his heart leapt into his throat
who looks into the mirror, frustrated and aggravated because as a kid he was taunted about being the ''spare'', for not looking enough like you
who now thinks maybe it was a good thing, as you sit across from each other
brother!armin who feels relief for an innate second because in a world that shuns eldians, he wouldn't have to hide his status from his own sibling,
and he realizes with a drop in his stomach what a horrible thing that is to fester in his mind
brother!armin who spends so much time with annie's crystal because she's not you and it's appropriate and understandable for him to ''like her''
armin who holds you close when you're terrified and alone, grieving his condition. and he thinks (if he only has thirteen years left, he's glad he can spend it with you, that maybe he can have the life he wants) a thousand things that he knows he shouldn't tell you
whose eyes catch on your form as you undress, breath unmoving in his chest. (and his heart wants)
brother!armin who whispers that no one else will understand him like you do
who sleeps across the room from you, wide awake until daylight streams in, keeping his hands to himself because he's afraid of what he'll do if he holds you (because what if it doesn't stop there?)
and he wants that pure, loving feeling. wants to love you as a good brother should. (but-)
-but he keeps thinking of pressing you deep into the mattress, kissing you as lovers do, as the clerk thinks you do, hands touching what is his, by blood and sinew
-but his heart skips a beat when the clerk asks with a fond tone "and how did you sleep?" and you smile, pressing a kiss just shy of his mouth, giving him electric shocks, "just fine"
brother!armin who throws himself in front of you during battle, who screams and cries over every injury, who will literally fight eren tooth and nail
brother!armin who hears of your crush on someone else and he festers, trying so hard not to (think about undermining them, making him feel like the superior option, the better one) feel the way he does
brother!armin who shoves little secret notes into your satchel, penned unrecognizable by his left hand, words of encouragement and admiration. writing down what his heart wants
the very same brother whose heart skips a beat when the next time you two go incognito and you introduce yourselves to the waiter as a couple,
who stands with you behind a building, away from prying, public eyes, hands trembling on your waist. leaning in, wanting, starting to ask- and you say yes
