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winifred. '05 baby with a passion for penis mdni. dark content blog. dead dove dne

──── 🐁┆tidbits┆cheese factory┆

[oncam]

— ⋮ MADE FOR ME

ryomen sukuna x reader

— ⋮ in short, sending your dad a video of you getting fucked might not be the best idea :(

3.2k ⋮ — [ 18+ ] warnings : dad-daughter incest, daddy kink, situational & verbal degradation (slut, whore, etc.), blow job, anal, dubcon, cheating, age gap, slapping, breeding kink & non-consensual creampie, sadism & masochism, obsessive thoughts & behavior

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The apple didn't fall far from the tree when Sukuna had you. A girl version of the brooding man, you were equally as confident and attractive, though maybe even more fucked up. 

It was hard to know for sure.

Sukuna never tried to hide his lack of morals from anyone, wearing the trait instead as a badge of honor. He reveled in the way others would whisper about him as they watched him out of the corner of their eye, steering their daughters away from him because they knew what he was like. Everyone saw the way he looked at you, his own daughter—lidded eyes that stared for longer than they should, shamelessly ogling what he considered to be the best parts of you. 

When his friends would comment about how well you "filled out" after you grew up, he wouldn't chide them. He'd just laugh and agree. 

"She's mine, course she looks good." 

What people didn't see was how much you fed into his behavior. It was a secret piece of knowledge that Sukuna kept to himself, not wanting to risk it getting out to the wrong people… like your mother. 

You were the only good thing that came from his union with "that woman," as he called her. 

His perfect daughter that never wore pants around the house, opting instead for a pair of panties and a tank top. You were so sweet to him, bending over in the fridge to give him a nice show while he had his breakfast. Sleeping naked with the door opened so when jerked off he could get a view of your bare pussy, still slick from touching yourself—preferring his hand and the idea of his daughter over the body of his wife. 

But as perfect as you are, you sure as shit know how to piss your old man off. 

Veins are bulging in his hand from how hard he's gripping his phone, glaring down at the screen as he replays the video you sent him for the fifth time. Your high pitched moans are flowing from the speaker, all whiny and desperate, as whoever you're with points the camera right at the place where he's sliding inside you. The flash is on, giving Sukuna almost too good of a view of the way your virgin cunt is swallowing the boy's underwhelming length. 

Slut.

That was the first word that came to his mind when he'd opened your message—"my first time :)"

"Home. Now." He'd replied curtly. 

Your knees are aching from being pressed into the floorboards for so long, but they don't hurt nearly as much as your jaw which has been stretched wide for the same amount of time. Sukuna pushed you to his feet less than a minute after you walked through the door, slapping you once across the face with a single command to 'open up.' 

The gags coming from where you're choking on his dick between his legs are merely a distraction as he watches the pathetic way you're getting fucked on camera. 

"You could've just asked if ya wanted your daddy to fuck you like a whore," Sukuna's anger is evident in his tone and the way he presses his cock impossibly harder into the back of your throat. 

Your nose is buried in his untrimmed bush, his natural musk filling your nose as you struggle to breathe. Drool is already spilling from your lips and down to his heavy balls from how long you've been forced to cockwarm the man with your little mouth. 

Sukuna finally closes out of the video, opting to open his own camera now. He makes sure you're captured in the middle of the frame, the flash on as well so he can see the pretty tears in your eyes, the sweat on your skin, the way his dick is shoved between his bratty daughter's lips. "You look good like this, baby. On your knees, mouth filled with my cock," Sukuna muses. "Got you to shut up too. Might have to show Fushiguro."

Sukuna grins wickedly when he sees the way your eyes widen. You don't know what you'd do if a photo like that got out—the tell-tale tattoos around your father's thighs being particularly incriminating. 

"What? Now you don't like bein' in the spotlight?" he goads, pulling you off of him until just the tip rests on your tongue. You're coughing immediately, but the second you're about to take your first real breath of air, Sukuna is thrusting back down your throat.

"Yeah, get my dick nice and wet like that—gonna regret it if you don't. Means it'll hurt more when I fuck your ass." 

"Mmmfg!" is what your strangled attempt at protest sounds like. Even if you could get a word out, Sukuna wouldn't listen. You lost the right to him treating you nicely when you pulled your stupid stunt. 

"You wanna go 'round whoring yourself out on camera, then you'll get fucked the way you deserve," Sukuna all but snarls at you before finally yanking you off of him for good. With one last shove, he sends you tumbling into the ground at his feet.

You hit the floor hard, your palms stinging from attempting to catch yourself. The whole time, Sukuna just stands there. With his cock in his hand, he's pumping himself slowly as he gets off on the way your naked form is sprawled out before him, trying to recuperate. "Face down, ass up, and spread yourself open f'me." 

You scramble to do as he says, not daring to talk back with how stern his voice is. When you're finally presenting yourself to Sukuna how he asked, he wastes no time kneeling behind you, the head of his cock already kissing your entrance. 

"Wait, dad, condom." You remember when you feel the warmth of his tip rubbing along your slit, smearing his pre into the arousal that already gathered there from him using your mouth. 

"You really gonna tell your old man to wrap it up? Don't act like a fuckin' prude when I know you didn't use one with that kid." 

He's right. But it's not the same, because 'that kid' isn't Sukuna. He isn't your own flesh and blood like the man behind you, slamming into your sweet cunt with a single punishing motion. 

Your face rubs painfully against wood floor as you're sent forward with the force of his thrust. "Aah, fuck!" you wail, but Sukuna dismisses you immediately. The weak "Ow…" you let out after must have sounded too close to a moan for him to care. 

The way your pussy feels so good around his dick almost makes Sukuna want to go easy on you, remembering how much he cares about his daugther. 

Almost.

And then remembers that he's not the first person to know what your cunt feels like, and any hopes of being shown mercy from your dad melt away. He sets a pace so brutal that you're trying to crawl away from him, only for him to grab your hips tighter and pull you back. Judging by the footage of your only experience, Sukuna knows you can't handle it and that only makes him want to go harder. 

You're whimpering so cutely, cheeks wet from tears and your lips from the saliva that keeps spilling from them. Everything burns. The stretch from your dad's fat cock inside your tight pussy, your already sore knees now starting to bruise, your neck stiffening as your head is bent at an uncomfortable angle. There's no plush mattress, no cushiony pillows to make you feel better as Sukuna pounds you into the floor so hard you think it might splinter into your skin. 

Through it all, there's nothing you can do to prevent the lewd sounds that are slipping out of your mouth with a messy amount of drool that only makes you look even more like a pornstar. Deep down, you love this, he knows you do. You internalize all the insults that Sukuna throws your way because it makes the occasional praise he sings sound that much louder. Just as with the immense pain he's inflicting upon you, it only serves to make the pleasure that much better. 

Your orgasm is building too quick for your own brain to keep up, rapidly reducing you to a puddle of moans and cries for the man that's destroying you.

"Daddy! I—ohh fuck, I'm," you mewl, eyes rolling back as your cunt starts to throb around Sukuna's girth.

"Yeah, I know," Sukuna grunts. Your hazy mind can hardly comprehend what he's doing when you feel him shifting around you. He adjusts his position with his cock inside you until your face is being trapped against the hardwood, pinned underneath Sukuna's bare foot. 

The new angle is too much. No longer rutting forward into you, Sukuna is slamming down onto you, splitting you in half on his cock as he forces it unbelievably deeper inside you. 

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, I can't," you sob, chest heaving as you cry harder. "Too deep, dad, wait—" 

"Save it," he snaps at you. "This cunt is cryin' more than you, I know ya love getting used like the pretty slut you are. You're fucked in the head just like me." 

He's not wrong. Within moments you're cumming so hard that you think you might pass out, your legs shaking uncontrollably as Sukuna finally starts to slow down. 

"See? Makin' a god damn mess too." Sukuna sneers as he watches the way your pussy is starting to leak, creamy white slick coating his shaft as he slides out of you. "Your mom would be disappointed to know you turned out this way."

"Fuck off," you groan tiredly, not able to be bothered to care what your mother would think when you just had the best orgasm of your life. 

Sukuna chuckles as he steps off your head, moving instead to rub his hand between your folds, gathering your slick on two fingers. You wake up more when you feel him circling the rim of your asshole, prodding at the tight entrance with every couple swipes. 

"No, don't. I don't want to… not today," you try, having a feeling you wouldn't change Sukuna's mind.

He rolls his eyes, confirming your suspicions when he lazily pushes both fingers into your ass, ignoring the loud whine from you. "You say that but you don't mean it, look how well you're takin' these fingers. Can tell you want more." Sukuna slips his hand out of you before replacing them with the tip of his dick. "I know what my little girl needs." 

It's almost adorable the way your asshole clenches like that would stop him from fucking it. And the way you whimper another 'dad please, don't." Pathetic. 

When Sukuna presses his cock inside your tightest hole it's with an agonizing stretch. He didn't give you nearly enough prep to comfortably take someone of his size, and all of the cum and spit that's coating his monstrous length is doing nothing to ease the intrusion. 

A sound halfway between a scream and a croak escapes you as you crumble under Sukuna's weight, slumping into the hard floor beneath you for the second time tonight. 

"You need to loosen up, kid," he grunts, both hands spreading your cheeks apart to get a better view of his dick nudging inside your ass. The skin is taut and he can see the muscles tensing, trying to keep him out. It's causing him such difficulty that he wonders if it's even worth it as the friction starts to spread some of your pain to him. 

But it's the only part of you that hasn't been corrupted yet, and he'll be damned if another man gets to it first. 

"Fuck, it hurts," more tears pour from your eyes, dripping onto the ground below you. "Dad, I'm—am I bleeding?" You have to ask with the way it feels like you're being torn apart—you won't be surprised if the answer is yes.

"Nah, I'd fit inside a lot easier if you were though. Maybe you should," Sukuna muses, grinning when you writhe in his grip, trying to adjust to his size. "What, you don't want that?"

You're not even sure what you want. 

You want this all to be over. You want Sukuna to leave you alone and pretend you never started this whole thing. But you also want him to make you feel good in every way that he knows how, even when it hurts and you're not sure you can take it.

Because your knees are not only bruised but now scraped from sliding roughly against the wood with each thrust you had to endure. Your throat is sore from crying and shouting and gagging on your dad's cock. And still, your pussy is so soaked that it's leaking around nothing, producing more slick as Sukuna's hips inch to yours, until you're flush together once more.

"Never felt anything this tight," Sukuna groans, his entire length now buried inside your ass. It's so warm and squeezing him perfectly, he's not sure he'll ever want to fuck anything else again. With an experimental roll of his hips, his dick feels like it's pressing all the way into your stomach, making you whimper and squirm. 

The pressure is unparalleled. He's everywhere, overwhelming you from the inside out until all you can think of is him. 

All you can smell is his cologne and sweat. All you can hear are his grunts and groans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours when he pulls out half way before slamming back in. And all you can feel are his fingers digging into your flesh, his girth spreading you open so wide and deep that it's dizzying. 

"Play with yourself for me, baby." His voice is raspy, laced with exertion and strain from trying to hold himself together. Your body fits him much better than your mom's. "Told ya to loosen the fuck up," he lands a searing slap to your ass that makes you yelp. 

You have to lean onto your shoulder in order to snake a hand under you, reaching for your clit with a weak finger. Your neck is stiff, crooked at an awkward angle, and the poor thing feeling like it's going to snap when you try to look between your legs as your fumble around. Sukuna's moving faster now, reaching a steady rhythm that only serves to throw you off as you try to touch yourself. 

But eventually you find it—the right amount of pressure on that perfect spot which brings you just enough pleasure to forget all the ways in which your body feels like it's falling apart. Finally you relax just the slightest bit, allowing Sukuna to rut into you easier.

"Thaaat's it. See, feels good when you listen to your daddy." 

"Mmhng," you mewl, unable to find your words. You can't bring yourself to focus on anything more than trying to breathe through your punishment until you can get rewarded with another climax. 

"You let that boy fuck you here?" He already knows the answer.

"N-no," you reply, your voice shaking.

"Good," Sukuna growls. "Stupid girl. Fuckin' pissed me off today," he emphasizes the sentiment with another harsh slap to your ass. He puts all his strength into it, watching as the skin immediately starts to well up. 

He knows he's broken you completely when you don't even cry out at the impact, instead your breath just catches in your throat, followed by a sniffle. 

Tears and snot stain your face. Spit keeps pooling in your mouth and it seems like you're never able to swallow it all down, leaving some saliva to constantly dribble out between your lips and onto your chin. 

"Need a picture of this next time, should see how well this ass is takin' my dick. Knew we'd be perfect together." Sukuna is rambling on now, lost in his own thoughts as you're lost in your second approaching orgasm. "Made these holes just for me. No one else." 

Sukuna can feel the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the rest of the room. He's teetering on the cusp of his orgasm, only holding on by a thread because he wants to bask in the feeling of you for as long as he can. 

But then you're cumming again. Shuddering and gasping on the floor as your arousal seeps onto your hand, sticky and warm. Your muscles tighten up so much it makes Sukuna hiss as you clamp down around his cock and he knows he's done for. 

"Should breed that pretty pussy, fill you up. You want that?" In a twisted sort of way, it's comical how quickly you panic, snapping out of your cockdrunk haze at his threat. 

"No! Please no, dad, you can't," you beg him, trying to appeal to the side of him that you know loves you as his favorite and only daughter. 

"You're lucky this hole feels so good," Sukuna grumbles, "fuck but you'd look so good pregnant with my kid—might even give me another girl. You don't wanna share your daddy with a sister?" 

You don't. You don't want to share him with anyone. That much is clear when you feel his hips still, his balls twitching once before he's spilling inside you. It's a weird but addictive feeling when warm spurts of cum begin to coat your insides, making it easy for Sukuna to finally slide out of you. 

The worst part of you wishes that your mom wasn't even in the picture. You would be fine with just Sukuna to take care of you, relying only on him and knowing that he only has you too. 

"Shit, look at that," Sukuna breathes, admiring the way your gaping hole is now leaking white spend. It's thick and slow as it slides down towards your cunt. 

He can't help himself when he reaches forward, gathering as much of his seed as he can onto his fingers and pushing them inside your pussy. Sukuna doesn't stop until he's reached the last knuckle, reaching as deep as he can. 

"What…" you cough, the fatigue finally catching up to you as your eyelids grow heavy. "What are you doing?"

"Just couldn't waste it," Sukuna murmurs, pumping his fingers languidly in and out of you. You look so spent, your skin bruised and red, your pussy lips all puffy and sore and smothered in slick. 

If you were all his, he'd make sure you looked like this everyday.

Come next morning when you wake up in your bed, your body shows the evidence of your night though red scratches and purple splotches. But you've been showered and tucked under the sheets, a testament to how gently Sukuna cleaned you up and brought you back to your room. It was confusing after he'd treated you so roughly. 

Maybe he felt bad.

But then you remember the way he pushed more and more of his release into your cunt despite your tired moans of protest. And when you try to tell yourself that it will be okay because it's different than if he'd really came inside you, you remember what he said when he laid you down for bed—about how he got your mom pregnant on their first night together.

© 2026 oncam ⋮ a/n thank you to the lovely coast for beta reading <3

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Cute

@imajesusfreak

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yes

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stalker!gojo x stripper!reader

cw: non-con, piss, stalking, baby trapping, surveilling, somno, dacryphilia 4.7k words

Satoru Gojo considers himself a victim of circumstance.

Geto was busy doing whatever it is he gets up to when he's not entertaining Gojo's whims, Shoko was out with Utahime and Nanami was… never too inclined to 'waste'—as he had put it— any of his free time with Gojo anyway. So what is a man to do when he feels like all of his friends are too busy for him?

Get sloppy drunk. Leave each of them no less than 10 voicemails that ranged from telling them he missed them to cursing them for not loving him. Then, ending up in front of the pink neon lights of Kittens Cabaret . What can he say? He's a dangerous combination of drunk, rich and lonely. The perfect cocktail to convince himself he isn't above paying for company, especially when it's coming from a pretty stranger. He'd do anything— pay anything to not feel so damn solitary for one more second, and who better to do it than a professional?

Through the sea of drunkards and fishnet he spots you, dancing to whatever overly sexualized pop song is most popular at the time. His eyes rake over you, greedy and lust driven. You glow under the lights, clad in a white fishnet dress with no panties on. You're tall in your pleasers, little fake fish in the clear platforms— he finds them amusing. You, even more so.

There's something magnetic about you, the way you smile lazily as you move and contort on the stage. He wants to devour you whole, like a lion taking possession over its prey.

It starts off small at first. Satoru watches you from the tall chairs surrounding the stage, picking the ones that'll cause the least interference with his vision— you know, blinding strobe lights and all. He watches you take men to the backrooms for private dances— all long legged and perfect with a man— who looks like his parents and his parents parents might've been related— following behind you.

He, of course, white knuckles the arms of the chairs the whole time. Feigns interest in the other dancers to remain unsuspicious and stays until you sneak your way back into your dressing room. He makes his way back out to his car, all long limbs and casual as he leans against it, beer bottle in hand.

He stays just teetering on tipsy, right before a warm hum starts tickling his cheeks and ears— still too sober to pass this off as a drunken interest. He watches you walk to your car, a nice little Mercedes bought with other men's money— your money— watching the tail lights as it drives off. He throws his beer bottle against the dumpster where the homeless man leaning against it snaps awake and curses at him. He gets in his car and goes home, falling asleep thinking about you— tying you up and all that super normal stuff.

The second week is when he starts getting… weird. He comes by 4 days out of 7, lets you tease him silently from across the club. Clenching and unclenching his fists as your spine bows and your legs spread. He grits his teeth as you bend over, your teeny tiny bikini puts your pretty pussy lips on display. He buys your company for the last 2 hours of your shift, half hard in his pants as you sit in his lap and purr in his ear.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here?" He watches your mouth as it moves, awe struck.

He gulps, "I could ask you the same."

Keeping his cool from across the club is one thing, touching your skin and pretending he isn't teetering on the edge of orgasm at the smell of your perfume is another.

"I've seen you eyeing me." You smile, your ankle coming to rest on his shoulder, "But this is only the second night you've booked me."

You feign something between hurt and intrigue. He's handsome, tall as all hell and clearly has money if he's able to come so often and book your last two hours. You were a hot commodity, priced out at $1,000 an hour and here he was the second night in a row. 4k in two days, plus the $500 he'd given you as a tip the previous night and the extra $200 for your outfit. He was sitting at a whopping $5,400 if tonight went the same, which you had no doubt it would. He's paid your rent for two months in two nights.

"What can I say, I wanted you to notice me a little." He chuckles, pearly whites glowing in the dark light.

He doesn't consider himself particularly partial to sex workers. No, he was partial to you. You could've been a barista or a librarian— hell you could've been a damn beggar on the street and he'd be dishing out cash your way. He buys your outfit again, another $200 dollars extra in your pocket but he tips you $600 tonight.

He has you reach inside his pants pocket, fishing out his wallet but not before feeling his hard on through the thin fabric. He prays you don't feel how sticky it is. You do.

You say your goodbyes, slinking out of the room butt naked but not before bending over and showing off the way your lower lips part. He bites his knuckles to hold back a moan before making a beeline for the exit.

He watches you walk to your car through his rear view mirror, spitting down onto his cock and pressing the bottoms part of your outfit to his nose. He takes a big breath in as he fists himself, imagining your fingers wrapped around him— better yet your wet little mouth that keeps his ear too occupied to think about the little beads of precum your movements often left in his boxers. He laps at the little bit your pussy sits in, sucks on the thin piece of fabric that rests against your asshole. His eyes roll back, hips bucking as he tastes the sweat and other bodily fluids from the long shift. He thinks he may be able to understand addicts a little better, he feels high off the euphoria of it all— the wrongness. His body tenses and writhes as he spits hot spurts of cum into your bottoms, savoring the way both of your scents mix together.

He deludes himself into thinking he's special, something more than a wallet to take advantage of. That you're young and naive enough to let a kind man feel like anything more than a cash cow. He is sorely mistaken, doesn't understand that you go home and scrub the nastiness of the night off and don't pay him a second thought until you count your money and hope he comes to offer more again soon. He was a transaction.

The line he's willing to cross goes further when he begins following you home, keeping a safe distance behind you with his headlights turned low. You live in a nice apartment in the middle of the city, on the top floor with a nice view, you know the ones seated behind a big gate with a security guard manning it. Gojo lies, telling the man he's a delivery driver and giving him your real name instead of your stage name. He doesn't want to think about how much he'd paid the private investigator to find that out.

Night after night, the security guard lets him pass. They make small talk as Gojo waits for the gate to open, never questioning why a delivery driver is sitting inside such an expensive car. Satoru lies about other deliveries he's been on, how much of a nightmare some customers are. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

He starts by just sitting in his car, keeping up his nightly ritual of jerking himself off with fishnet and spandex. That doesn't last long, he's fickle and covetous as most men are. He doesn't come in one night, just sits in the parking lot close to closing time in a less recognizable car. He follows you home once again, is let in beyond the gate and pulls a medical mask over his face. He's dressed in all black, a hat pulled on to cover his unruly and easily recognizable white hair and glasses pulled over his eyes. Suspiciously unsuspicious.

You don't think anything of it when he stands next to you in the elevator, there were plenty of people in your building who wanted to keep their anonymity. His cock strains against his pants when your perfume wafts around him, he likes you in your regular clothes even better— the way they let his imagination run wild.

He gets off on the same floor as you, pretends to go the opposite way down the hall. You don't see his phone in his back pocket and even if you did you wouldn't suspect a stranger of recording you walking into your apartment.

He watches the video back over and over once he's back in his car, zooming in to watch your tongue peek past your lips as you input your door code. He memorizes the door number, watches your fingers and maps out the door code.

He pacifies that guilty part of his conscious that tells him this is wrong by feeding the much larger part of him that believes he's doing a good thing. He tangles himself in a web of self-important delusions: he's just taking the necessary steps to make you fall for him, to be a good man to you and give you a beautiful life where you want for nothing.

Satoru begins paying closer attention to when you arrive at work instead of when you leave, putting one of those non-detectable trackers on your car before making his way to your apartment. He brings the security guy a case of beer under the guise of manly comradery. His eyes are glued to his screen, watching the little blue dot sit inside the club as he rides up the elevator.

He gets into your apartment on the first try, pushing his way in and familiarizing himself with the layout. No pets, a big white couch taking up a quarter of the living room, leading into the kitchen with all its pink utensils and pots and pans. These rooms are of no consequence so he passes through them quickly. He walks down the hall, with its warm motion sensor lighting leading the way to what is probably tantamount to the entrance to heaven.

He presses the door open, fingers itching at his sides as he decides where to look first. He takes a deep breath in, letting the air back out slowly as he fishes a hidden camera out of his back pocket. Your bed dips under his weight— he had been nice enough to take his shoes off before stepping on it— and places the device in the ceiling light above your bed.

The smart thing to do would be to turn tail and get the hell out of there, and as smart as Gojo is— he has impulse control. He needs something that smells like you, he'd fucked and came inside everything he'd already bought from you, though he still keeps them by his bedside. Little trophies that he saw as equal to love letters. Misguided in his way of thinking, as if you hadn't sold a hundreds of outfits both in person and online to whatever sick fucks offered the right price.

His fingers shake as he rifles through your laundry hamper, trying to decide whether he wanted to take your stage outfits or one of the less sexy pairs you probably slept in. He goes for the latter in the end, shoving them deep in his pocket, but not before giving them a hearty sniff.

There's a vibration on his phone signaling the camera and his phone were now synced, a toothy grin pulling his cheeks up unnaturally. His footsteps reverberate around your apartment as he takes his leave, checking his phone again to make sure you're still at work like a good girl.

That night when he's all curled up in bed mindlessly scrolling his phone vibrates again. Movement detected! His overexcited fingers struggle to click on the notification, heart thrumming behind his ribcage. Frustration licks at his already fried nerves as the app loads before giving way to your room. He watches as you undress, your tits and pussy freed from the confines of your clothes and the micro-bikini hidden underneath.

He finds that he enjoys the way you look with no makeup on, gets off on the fact that only he gets to see you like this. So much so that he pulls his half hard dick out, letting it slap against the pale skin on his stomach and brush against the little patch of white just above his pubic bone. His fingers tremble as he watches you lay on your bed, stroking himself slowly as your large t-shirt is pulled just under your breasts.

Your fingers dip between your legs, your phone held in your hand as soft moans part your lips. Something akin to butterflies dance in his stomach as he matches your pace.

To Gojo, it's almost like your fucking. That overactive imagination of his creating the delusion that it's your hand and not his own pulling at his skin, thumb grazing over his frenulum.

He can hear your cunt squelching around those pretty little fingers and pulls the panties he'd stolen earlier from his bedside drawer, stuffing them in his own mouth and moaning around the fabric. Your eyebrows knit together, knees open to the point of almost laying flat against your pink sheets.

Even from here, he can tell how close you are. Your fingers are getting sloppy as they move in and out of you, his own stomach is tightening as he focuses on his tip. He mewls out your name, the crotch of your panties soaked with his drool as he picks up his pace. His balls pull tight, cock pulsating underneath his grip as he watches you cry out and spasm. His screen is painted white not too long after and he uses your underwear to clean himself and his cellular device.

That night and for the next few nights after, he falls asleep watching you do the same.

Everything comes to a head when the club starts implementing "Topless Tuesday"—not that you or your coworkers typically wore a top anyway— and of course Gojo's there. He's sitting in his usual chair, a particularly pink drink in hand as he awaits your arrival onto your usual stage.

His mouth runs dry when he sees you, all dolled up and glistening, music thrumming through every cell. You smile at him, naked as the day you were born with nothing more on than pink pleasers that glow under the black lights.

You follow your usual song and dance, though he buys out your time a lot earlier than usual. He watches your tits bounce with every step closer to his favorite dark room in the back, the one that smells the least like dried cum and years old spilled alcohol. You can feel the irritation buzzing off him and it makes you uneasy, seeing a man usually so easy going with a poorly concealed tick in his jaw.

"Something bothering you, handsome?" You melt into his lap like a lazy kitten, your delicate fingers on your right hand stroking the side of his face while the ones on the left run through his soft hair. His expression snaps into one of calm, quiet. The sudden change makes something in your stomach twist, the inside of your cheek pulled between your molars. You continue coddling him like a child.

"Just a long day at work." He smiles, leaning into your touch. A lie, of course, he had spent the early hours of the morning watching you, fell asleep and woke up just in time to watch you get ready for the day. He hadn't noticed how little you'd thrown in your bag that afternoon, too enthralled by you to care. He feeds you that facade of comfort until you relax, he needed you to relax if he was gonna move up his plan.

So, he compliments you and creates a web of lies about his ever-so-hard day; he pays you more than he had the time before and smiles at you as if he hadn't just handed you enough money to pay off another two months of your rent. He stays within the boundaries of normalcy whilst puppy dog eyeing you about how disappointed he is he can't buy the piece of string pressed against your asshole— though he words it much more beautifully. He is the picture of perfection as that ugly, jealous feeling gnaws at him just under the surface.

You're especially kind, chalking him up as nothing more than a lonely stranger. You take the little black straw from his cup, pushing it past your lips to suck the liquid left behind off while maintaining eye contact. He gulps down a breath, too aware of how far you're leaning into him and the way your perked up nipples rub against his shirt.

"You're always so good to me," your breath fans against his ear as your purr, sending goosebumps down his whole body, "so let me be good to you. Just this once, 'kay?"

He nods, the tips of his ears tinged pink as he watches your legs spread, heels resting on either side of his knees. His heart hammers against your back, watching as you swirl the straw through your pussy lips, collecting your sticky slick wherever it touches. You lean further into him, head lolling back against his shoulder so you can look him in the eye when you dip it just past your entrance. He's so hard underneath you that the fabric of his pants feel like an illusion and he wishes as much when he hears the low, wet sounds emanating from between your legs. You play it up like an Oscar-winning actress, your hand coming up to play with one of your breasts as you pump the slender object in and out with an exaggerated moan or two.

You don't know that he's all too aware of what you really sound like when you're enjoying yourself, that you aren't satisfied with something so small between your thighs. Regardless, his whole body stiffens underneath you to keep him from creaming his jeans. You smile, all pink cheeked and unaware as you dip the straws back into his cup. He scrambles to his feet, closing time only ten minutes away. He needed to fade into the cover of night so he could linger behind you on your way home. You wave and tell him how you hope to see him again soon, pretending that you care as you tell him to take care of himself.

He stuffs the straw in his pocket, leaving in a hurry and sucks on it the whole time he follows you to your place.

The wait is akin to torture. Dramatic as it may be, the sentiment is true to Satoru Gojo. He sits in his car, tucked into a dark corner as he watches you lay in your bed doom scrolling. His fingers fidget with impatience, wishing to himself that there was a way he could've slipped you a sedative. Next time. Next time he'd find a way.

Ironically, it's almost 4 a.m. when your soft snores grace his ears. He waits another 20 minutes just to be safe, so logical in his depravity. The sky is blooming into the pinks and purples of morning which makes it all the more exhilarating. He's alive with euphoric delight as he pushes through the lobby, practically floating his way to the elevator. He feels the same way you do before you go on a big trip, all full of restless energy and excitement. He pulls himself together, footsteps quiet and slow as he approaches your front door. His fingers twitch as he inputs your code and lets himself inside, closing the door softly, like he was performing open heart surgery.

He knows the layout like the back of his hand at this point, he even had a map all scrawled out in panicked chicken scratch tacked to his wall at home. When he opens your bedroom door he almost stops breathing, he'd figured out you're quite restless in your sleep after many nights of surveying you. You're laying on your side, scrunched up in the fetal position. If he was a godly man, he would've thanked god for creating such a beautiful opportunity for him.

His steps are slow and soft as he inches toward you, stopping just in front of your face. He unzips his pants with careful fingers, eyes watching you harder than the camera he'd installed. His cock is heavy and weepy in his hand as he gives a few tugs. Your mouth is inviting, all hung open and wet with drool. He presses his tip to where its leaking, using your saliva to lubricate himself as he keeps stroking. Out of reflex, your tongue darts out and touches his frenulum, his eyes roll back and he bites his bottom lip to muffle and whine.

He fights against whatever rationality is left and pushes the very tip of his dick past your lips, instinct making you suckle a bit. Soft hums fall past your lips as his precum beads onto your tongue and it's a fight for him to keep from cumming. He stays like that for a while, letting you nurse his cock totally unaware. But he's greedy, detrimentally so. Especially when he pushes a bit further, his thickness making your mouth open wider and your body stir uncomfortably.

His heart stops when your lashes flutter, though his cock gets impossibly harder when your blinking up at him— trying to discern whether you were still frolicking through dreamland or not. It's a harsh reality when you realize it's the latter, shooting straight up in bed with your mouth agape and no sound coming out. You scramble to the opposite side, hitting your knee on your nightstand as you plant your unsure feet on the ground. You try to make it to the door, heavy breaths puffing in and out. But he's on you, overpowering you in every way as he wrestles you to the floor.

"Where do you think you're flying off to little bird?" He coos, broad chest pressed to your back. It's apparent he doesn't really want an answer when his hand cups over your mouth, despite that you manage to let out a couple muffled sounds as you try to bite his hand.

It had been the wrong night to sleep nude, but the sweltering heat of the day was still trapped in your apartment. His unoccupied hand pulls your legs apart, resting his cock right where your back dimples. "It's okay baby, 's just me."

You're terrified, limbs flailing before he uses one hand to pin your wrists behind your back, sliding his cock between your ass cheeks. You don't realize it you're pissing yourself until a soft trickling sound floods your eardrums, followed by a guttural moan from behind you. "Do it again, pretty. This time when I'm inside you okay?"

He uses it to lubricate himself, disgusting enough to dip his fingers in the little puddle you've made and bring it to his lips. He gives you what he thinks is a compliment, telling you how even your piss tastes good as he pushes his reddened tip past your entrance. You recoil at the stretch, he's much too large and much too rough. He's leaning forward to nip at your shoulder, biting too deeply as he thrusts the rest of his length in. Tears prick at your eyes and that only goads him on further, covetous free hand coming to dig half moons into your hip.

"Gonna take my hand off your mouth, okay?" His tongue laves over the bite mark as you nod too quickly. "And you're gonna be a good girl and be quiet, yeah?"

You nod, not sure if you even mean it. You realize you do when his hand comes of your mouth and you're silent as a mouse. His hips continue their assault on your ass as he moves forward and back, the slapping sounds reverberating— you can't decide if the echo is in your head or bouncing off the walls. His biceps comes to wrap around your throat to pull you up, practically kneeling on his cock as he brutalizes you from behind.

"Why are you doing this?" You croak, fingernails clawing at his forearm. He laughs, it's cold and unfeeling, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind in its wake.

"Well because I love you, of course." He says it like it's a very obvious conclusion to have come to, you think you might throw up. You don't. "You became my companion, think of this as us sealing our contract."

The tears really have begun to fall now, all hot and wet against your cheeks. He gasps with delight when he sees them making paths on your face, licking up their saltiness with a satisfied hum. You think you feel his cock twitch when you wince at his saliva covering your face like a dog.

"This isn't right." You choke out. He sticks his long fingers in your mouth to shut you up, playing at the back of your throat to make you gag. It makes you squeeze around him and he gasps into your ear.

"Oh? But this pretty little cunt is drooling all over me." It's smug as he drills you deeper, harder. "Don't worry baby, it won't be much longer. You're making me feel so fucking good."

You hate the betrayal from your body, the way your pussy milks him as he drags his tip from just outside your cervix to that little ring of muscle at your entrance; the way your lips part to let out little pants that do anything but dissuade him. You can't deny him even if you try.

"Gonna cum in you so everyone knows you belong to me." He's aggressive, losing his mind as he delves deeper and deeper into insanity. He thinks this is what heaven feels like, all warm and wet and you. You oppose him, convincing yourself that you have descended into hell or at the very least were stuck in a very convincing nightmare. "You don't have to go back to work though. I'm prepared to take care of you forever."

"You're out of your ever loving mind if you think I'm gonna have your baby." You spit. His sentiment would be heartwarming in any other circumstance. You're struggling to regulate your breathing as an unwelcome pressure builds just below your belly button. He's pistoning so hard inside you that drops of sweat are dripping down your shoulder, seeping into your pores as if solidifying his wants.

"Hmm, maybe we'll wait then? Yeah we'll wait. I want us to have time as a couple before we become a family." He's dipping his nose into the space between your shoulder and neck, huffing you like a drug. His bicep gets tighter and tighter around your throat, his balls pulling close so they no longer slap at your clit.

Your vision starts to blur at the edges as his grunts become more frequent, his movements more sloppy. He whispers little stomach twisting praises in your ear but they sound like they're coming from a different room. He whines and cries out as he fills you up, paying no attention to the way you claw at his arm as he uses you as a means to and end. Your vision blacks and your body goes limp, yet he keeps fucking himself through as you piss on him, your cunt spasming with your orgasm.

When you wake up the next morning you're tucked between your sheets, the only evidence of the night before being a bite mark on your shoulder and a dull ache between your thighs. You almost believe it was just your overactive imagination, you were always prone to vivid nightmares. You probably could've kept deluding yourself if Satoru hadn't come to see you two nights later to repeat his little ritual.

You let him in, the door clicking softly behind him.

[queasier]

cw incest + non consensual somno

Sometimes when your brother Yuji gets a little needy in the dead of night, jerking off just doesn’t do it. He needs the touch of another — and you, his pretty sister, are just down the hall.

You never wake up when he slips into your room. He’s gotten good at being quiet, so focused-in on your sleeping body that he can hardly even take a breath.

He tells himself it isn’t wrong if you aren’t awake to say no (he’s sure you would, you slap his hand away when he pokes and teases you at the breakfast table). And if he only uses your hand, it certainly isn’t… incest.

But your hand is so soft, not like the rough and manic strokes he gives himself. When he guides your hand to his cock and wraps his own hand around yours to guide it, he can close his eyes and pretend you’re moving by your own whim.

Sometimes he wonders what you’d do if you woke up, laid out on your back, to see Yujis cock in your face. Would you scream? Cry? Part your lips and let him feed it to you?

The idea has him smearing his tip against your lips, glossing them with his pre. It’s such a risk, he’s never gone this far before, but you’re just so pretty and warm and god, he loves you. He wants to fill you up, make himself a part of you. share your body in the same way you two used to share baths as kids — like there’s nothing to mind.

On reflex, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you’re met with the salty taste of your brother. The feel of your tongue against his tip has Yuji folding over in a premature orgasm. Globs of cum drool from his dick, landing in a gross mess across your lips and into your mouth. You swallow, as you would your spit, and Yuji thinks he might die there and then.

He tucks himself back in his pants, lets your hand fall back against the bed and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

You’re gonna have a weird taste in your mouth come morning.

[oncam]

cw incest : older brother sukuna who makes you sit on his lap while he shows you video after video of all kinds of porn.

he likes watching the way you twist your face up in disgust at the particularly gross videos—the kinds with girls tied up in the most uncomfortable positions, getting used until they’re a ruined mess covered in spit, sweat, and cum. sometimes piss.

then he always leans in closer and tells you how much prettier you’d look if you let him turn you into a girl like that.

if you ask him to stop or say he’s being weird then he’ll be sure to pull up an incest video next, making you watch some guy pound his “sister” into the mattress.

see, it’s not weird! everyone does it, so why don’t you let him?

[redsel]

[pervile]

CW - FATHER-DAUGHTER INCEST. MASTURBATION. NUDES + INTOXICATED SEX VIDEOS.

went on a hike today! miss you, dad

nanami reads the little text bubble on his phone and a small smile pulls at his mouth. a compilation of photos is above—he swipes through to see his pretty daughter in hiking gear and dripping with sweat.

to you, this is nothing more than sending your father updates, just like he asked when you left for university. promised you'd tell him about every fun activity and party you went to, send him photos of your outfit to make sure he'd approve. he misses you dearly, tells you that every time you talk on the phone—you think your updates are keeping his worried, parental-wired mind at ease.

your father could never tell anyone what he does with those photos. guilt eats at his insides every time his sweet little girl sends him pictures, but the stirring of his cock beneath his trousers overpowers his conscious. seeing you in little shorts and a tight spaghetti-strap top does it for him this time.

nanami scrolls up in the text thread.

on my way to a party. love you daddy!

captioned to a string of photos you took in the bathroom mirror of your flat—tight dress hugging all the right places. some of the pictures have your friends in them, but you are the shining star in your dad's eyes.

he unbuckles his belt with one hand, palming himself while he stares at the pictures. honestly, the dress you wore that night was obscene—too short on the bottom and too low up top. but you are his sweet girl, can do no wrong in his eyes. nanami won't tell you to change because of how fucking hard it gets him.

nanami zooms in on one photo, his favorite from that night. you're bent over the sink, pouting at the mirror, tits on full display to your dad. it wasn't on purpose, just part of the multitude of photos you sent, but it gets him so bothered he has to shove his pants down and free his cock.

got rained on omw to class. i'm soaked :(

another photo of you pouting in the mirror, skin damp and shiny from the weather that day. you're disheveled and obviously upset, but your dad pays no mind to your expression in that picture—because he can see your nipples clear as day through the white fabric of your top. rock solid too, winter rains are no joke.

he smears his pre over the head of his cock, slowly stroking himself as he zooms in on that photo, too. accidentally screenshots just your tits, but doesn't bother to delete it—it's the best part of the picture.

the "innocent" photos almost get him harder than anything pornographic, like the dirty secret of him jacking off to you turns him on more than if he were to just see you naked. sometimes he wishes things stayed that way—but he scrolls up further in your texts and forgets all about it.

i'm so wet, daddy, i miss you.

a text that captions yet another photo, only one this time. you're in the dark, only illuminated by the front-flash of your phone, soft curves of your body barely made out on his screen. he knows you had to take that in the same room as your roommate—hidden under the blankets along with a secret you can't tell anyone else.

nanami fists his cock quicker now, reading through the nasty messages sent to and from you after that. he said 'show me, sweetheart.' and you quickly replied with but my roommate is right here and sent a mouth-watering picture of your wet cunt anyway.

you always listen to him so well—except for when you have a few drinks. your dad scrolls up to the last time you got drunk at a party, stroking himself faster at the evidence.

got really fucked at that party last night. sorry daddy, love you

nanami presses the play button to the first of three videos, the thumbnail blurry and unfocused as it loads. when it finally loads, your father has to physically stop himself from cumming on the spot. you're on your knees, flash from the phone illuminating your entire face, all the way down to your mouth with some guy's dick shoved down to the hilt.

you look like a fucking whore. nothing like the smart, diligent, pure daughter nanami raised—but a shell of her, stripped down to your filthiest, sluttiest form.

nanami can tell from the way your eyes are glossed over and lidded you're plastered. the guy behind the camera is fucking your throat, forcing your head to knock back with each thrust, muttering something like fuck yeah, baby, take that shit. strings of saliva practically pour from your mouth, falling down to your tits, and the cameraman makes a good show of reaching down and groping you—and the video ends there.

the second video shows you in someone's bed that isn't yours—hopefully that same guy—with your back arched and ass spread. you're fucking holding yourself open for him, allowing his cock to smack into you at a brutal pace. the alcohol is making you loud, artificial moans and whimpers playing through nanami's phone speaker. he can tell it's all fake, though. your daddy makes real noises come out of you, and those are nothing like what he hears in the video.

the last video is his favorite from that night. nanami tightens his grip around his cock before he even presses play, speeding his fist up in anticipation. you're in a position akin to missionary, but worse—on your back, party dress tucked under your tits and shoved up your waist. thighs obscenely spread, cunt on full display to the camera, ruining every thought your father had about you being a respectable young woman.

you take this guy like a fucking champ, letting him use your whorish body for his own pleasure—and your father's, for that matter. strings of daddy, daddy, daddy fall from your lips, but nanami knows you weren't calling out to the guy who was fucking you. you were calling out for your daddy, the one who sits behind his phone screen, hunched over his desk, jerking his cock to his daughter's filthy videos.

nanami catches up to the speed of which you're being fucked, tugging at his length so quickly and harsh his toes curl inside his shoes. he can't stop watching you getting pounded, getting demolished by some guy you admitted you met a few hours earlier. and you recorded most of your encounter, all for your daddy.

he throws his head back at that, body convulsing as he shoots his load at the same time as the guy in the video. the cameraman's spend shoots everywhere, staining the skin of your thighs and the fabric of your dress—your father's cum lands on the wooden edge of his desk. he grips his phone tight, watching as you let yourself be physically degraded, thinking of remaking these clips when you come home for break.

thank you to miss margot for beta reading 💕 our nanami birthday fics will go platinum

[wordfather]

t shirt that says THEY TURNED ME INTO A RAT BUT I GOT BETTER #TAKEMEBACK

[filmit]

@ratbudding

[ratbudding]

haute couture

[oncam]

nanami kento as your perverted supervisor (and stalker)

2.7k cw : noncon, stalking, slapping, creampie. based on this request <3

nanami knows he is a relatively unassuming man, someone who people acknowledge for his attractiveness or work ethic, but easily dismiss because of his polite and reserved nature. even with his scars and the eyepatch he wears sometimes, people never seem to view him as someone to keep tabs on. in his mind, this is his best quality.

and it’s precisely because of it that you never noticed him as anyone more than your boss.

you never noticed him following you out to the parking garage after work on the days that you drove, his large form still managing to call little attention as he watched you get into your car.

and when you took the bus home from work instead, you never saw how he happened to be on the same line. though who would suspect that when he said he lived across town? he’d sit in the back, a book in his hand but his brown eye zeroed in on you, waiting to confirm which stop you got off at.

even when he’d follow you halfway home, snapping some photos of you to add to his collection—your stocking-clad legs, your ass in those little pencil skirts you wear—you never realized he was behind you.

even if the hair stood up on the back of your neck or your stomach twisted with intuition, you would never suspect him anyways. because why would you be suspicious of your charming supervisor who has been nothing but kind to you?

the same one who has your schedule memorized along with your address. after all, that information is stored right in his office.

maybe if he was a little creepier, came off a little weirder, you would have kept an eye on him. maybe you would have been more aware of your surroundings when leaving the office on those nights where you worked overtime, when it was only you, nanami, and the janitor left in the building.

those nights like tonight.

half the lights have been turned off and the office is silent except for the hum of electricity and the faint sound of a mop down the hall. you rub the sleep from your eyes as you pack up another draining work day. it’s times like these where you find yourself wondering if all the extra hours are worth it.

but then nanami steps out of his office in a crisp pair of slacks and polished shoes, his hair perfectly neat. he’s shrugging his coat on when he flashes you a small smile.

“another long day?” he asks.

you nod, grabbing your work bag and pushing in your chair. “yeah, it’s alright though.”

nanami hums like he understands what you really want to say. “the extra hours are a pain in the ass, but you’re doing a great job.”

you can’t help but smile back at him, a sense of pride budding in your chest at his recognition of your hard work. “thank you, sir.”

nanami swallows thickly and it takes everything in him to quell the shudder that moves through his body. sir. if only you knew what that did to him, you’d probably quit on the spot. he can feel his dick twitch in his pants every time you say it, every time you remind him that you know he’s above you.

“have a good night,” he dips his chin at you, opting to take the stairs while you step into the elevator.

for a split second he thinks that maybe he should just get in there with you now. pull the emergency stop button and press you up against the wall, his hands dipping beneath your skirt. no one would know, he could be fast. it wouldn’t be difficult to erase the footage after if he had to, the janitor has a set of keys to the security office.

but no, his patience will pay off. he’s already waited long enough, he can hold on a little longer.

“you too, sir. see you next week.”

next week. you really were fucking oblivious.

the sun has set by the time you’re stepping off the bus at your stop. footsteps clamor behind you as the other passengers exit, everyone eager to finally get home.

your house is silent when you arrive, toeing off your shoes by the door and shutting it behind you. you toss your keys onto the holder and head straight to your room to get ready for bed. 

it’s while you’re rummaging through your drawer for some pajamas that you hear something for the first time. a soft creak followed by an even softer click. you freeze halfway through undressing, standing perfectly still to try and pick up on any other sounds. but when you hear nothing else, you try to brush it off. but goosebumps still pepper your skin as you throw on a tank top and a comfortable pair of cotton panties for bed.

and then it’s while you’re brushing your teeth, staring at your tired reflection in the mirror, that you hear what sounds like that old floorboard in the hallway—the one that groans each time you walk over it. the worn wood seems hardly able to sustain weight anymore.

that was unmistakeable, you’re sure of it.

well, you think you’re sure.

gingerly, you tiptoe until you’re able to peek out of the doorway and into the hall, but it’s empty.

you inhale a shaky breath, telling yourself that it’s nothing. there’s no way someone could have broken into your home without causing a scene because they’d have to shatter a window or find another way in with the front door locked.

was the front door locked?

a wave of nausea washes over you and forms a pit in your stomach. you can’t remember if you locked the door. you always do, but lately you’ve just been so tired and overworked.

and now, your first thought is that you need your phone. you remember leaving it plugged in by your bed and you’re moving before you can think any further. you rush back to your bedroom but in there you find nothing but the charging cable on your nightstand.

the bedroom door is slammed shut while you’re distracted and you gasp, spinning around so fast you feel dizzy.

it’s unmistakably him standing before the door in the same outfit you’d seen him wearing just an hour ago. nanami doesn’t speak, he just slides your phone into the pocket of his slacks before loosening his tie with a sigh.

“w-what,” you start, breathing heavily. he cocks an eyebrow at you, like he’s curious as to what you’re trying to say. “what are you…”

nanami cracks his neck, letting out a groan at the release of tension. “what am i doing in your home?” he finishes the question for you after you trailed off.

all you can do is nod and step backwards until you bump into the nightstand, rattling the lamp on top of it.

“careful,” nanami cautions, striding closer to you. “are you also going to ask me how i got in? i think we’d save a lot of time if we didn’t ask questions we already know the answers to.”

your throat feels tight, it’s dry when you swallow down the bile threatening to come up.

“get on the bed," nanami's tone leaves no room for protest and yet you try.

“n-no, no. get out.” 

your head is whipped to the side before you even hear the loud crack that rings out, before you even feel the impact of nanami’s palm colliding with your cheek. then pain begins to bloom from the spot, your skin searing as you touch the area gently with your fingers, stunned.

“on the bed. now.”

you realize you’re crying as you climb onto the mattress. steady streams of tears as your breath shudders and you try to catch your breath. how could you be in this situation right now?

“hands behind your back,” nanami is unamused by your emotional reaction, though he’s pleased when you listen this time.

the soft satin of nanami’s tie wraps around your wrists, binding them together. he gives it a sharp tug to make sure the knot won’t come loose, and when he’s satisfied he pushes you onto the mattress.

you scramble pathetically to try and pedal away from him but he grabs your ankle and tugs you back to the edge of the bed in one swift motion.

“enough,” he snaps, irritated by your sudden fight after you’d just been so pliant.

a choked sob escapes you when he wrangles your legs apart, but you resist less which earns you a gentle stroke of his hand up your thigh. it’s supposed to be soothing in a sickening way, but it just makes your stomach ache even more.

nanami hooks a finger into the elastic of your cotton panties, pulling on it before letting it snap back against your skin. “if you weren’t so clueless, i’d think you dressed this way just for me.” 

he thinks that this pair will be a nice start to his collection as he slides them down your legs. holding them up to his nose, nanami inhales deeply, committing the scent to memory before tucking the fabric into his pocket.

you squeeze your eyes shut when you see him finally unbuckling his belt, turning your head away from his as more tears spill from your waterline. nanami hates that you don’t want to look at him. you should feel lucky. it could be any gross man here in his position, but it’s not.

it’s him.

someone smart, successful, handsome. and you’re still fucking upset, acting like this is the worst thing to happen to you.

“god damn brat,” he hisses, gripping your chin to make you face him again. his free hand is yanking down his pants and his briefs, trying to free his aching cock.

he’s been hard just thinking about fucking you since the minute you walked into the office this morning. and now that he’s about to, it’s torturous. his pretty pink tip is already leaking, a translucent bead of precum sitting atop the slit.

“please,” you choke out one last attempt to persuade your intruder to let you go. “i promise i won’t tell anyone, i-i swear. just don’t hurt me.”

nanami scoffs, pumping himself slowly. “if it hurts it’s your fault. don’t blame me for that.”

your shoulders ache already, your hands starting to tingle as they’re stuck behind your back, between you and the mattress. you’re trembling, jerking away from nanami’s touch when his hand leaves your face to hold your hip but one sharp glance from him causes you to still.

you can’t help but notice how different he seems now. in the dim light of your room, the scars on his face seem more rugged, his eye appears darker, almost black. his hair is tousled from your struggling and his chest is heaving as he lines himself up at your entrance.

he rolls his hips, pushing his cock forward so it glides between your folds and his eyebrows raise when you let out the tiniest whine. he does it again. you squirm in his hold and the embarrassment on your face is evident.

when he chuckles you want to scream at him that you can’t help it. that just because your body reacts to the stimulation when his shaft drags across your clit doesn’t mean that you like it. and yet all you do is bite back a moan and try to prevent more tears from falling when you feel your pussy starting to get wet.

saliva pools in nanami’s mouth at the sight of you. he pulls himself back until the head of his cock is just poking at your hole and he lets a fat glob of spit land on your cunt. it slides down slowly until it gets pushed inside you when he starts to fuck you with shallow thrusts.

nanami dips the first couple inches of his length in and out of you, groaning at how tight you are. the little bit of slick that had gathered at your entrance does nothing to aid him when he finally forces himself in all the way.

and your pussy feels like everything he could have imagined and more.

so warm and tight, squeezing his cock like a vice as your back arches and you let out a weak cry. you feel so good like this with no prep, your cunt pulsing around him every time you writhe beneath him because it’s trying to push him back out. 

“been waiting so long to do this,” nanami groans, pulling out all the way before slamming back in.

you scream. you wish you could claw at him, scratch him until he bleeds, until he hurts as much as you do but you can’t.

you can do nothing but let your boss use you, violate you.

and the worst part is, when he presses your knees into your chest and lays his full weight on top of you, it makes you see stars. he’s hitting the exact right spot inside you with such precision that you wonder if he somehow knew where it was. maybe it was listed in your file next to your home address.

the sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder as he fucks you harder and faster until you can also hear the lewd sounds your pussy is making. the slick squelch each time nanami re-enters your cunt is a humiliating reminder of the fact that you can feel an orgasm building against your will.

“see? it doesn’t have to hurt,” nanami speaks down to you, condescending as you avoid his gaze. “you can admit that you like this.”

“n-no,” you whimper, “stop, nanami—”

the second slap across your face is harder than the first. “it’s ‘sir’ when speaking to me.”

“sorry!” you sob when he rams his hips into yours with a particularly rough thrust. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry, what?” he rasps.

you wince, prepared for another hit as you squeak out an acceptable apology, “i’m sorry, sir!”

“such a fast learner,” he praises dryly and unfortunately it makes you feel better. you're thankful for the fact that at least you’ve done one thing right in his mind, and maybe he’ll be easier on you for it.

how naive.

he’s relentless as he fucks himself into you. the pace he’s set is impossible for you to keep up with, and within minutes you’re nothing but a puddle of moans and tears on your bed.

that’s just how nanami wants you. soon you’ll see this is a good thing for you and him.

you’re clamping down around him so hard that he knows you’re about to cum no matter how hard you try to stop it. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bud and you start to quiver.

“no wait, i don’t want, oh god,” you mewl, “fuck!”

“dirty whore, look at you cumming around my cock from this,” nanami goads, “say ‘thank you, sir’.”

“…thank you, sir.” you want to throw up the minute the words leave your mouth, reminded of all the times you’d said it to him at work.

the humiliation is written all over your face and it’s beautiful. nanami knows that you couldn’t help it when you came but that makes it even better. you’ll be so ridden with guilt, finally vulnerable enough for him to start weaseling his way into your thoughts.

it’s only a matter of time before you’re thinking that maybe you did like it. maybe it only hurt at first because you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you wanted this. is it really as bad as you think if you came so hard for him?

maybe you'll even find yourself seeking him out first after this, and just the thought of that alone is enough for nanami to reach his climax.

“not inside!” you whine, but you’re too late. not that he’d listen.

he’s already plugging you up one last time and spilling inside you, warm cum flooding your abused cunt. it’s then that you finally relax, giving up. every muscle in your body goes limp as you slump into the mattress feeling utterly defeated.

when nanami finally pulls out, he continues to hold your legs up against you, admiring the way his spend starts to get pushed out, dribbling down to your asshole.

he should fuck you there next.

a/n everyone say “thank you, marlowe” because she was sweet and beta read for me. and hbd nanami

[queasier]

cw: incest + somnophilia + (forced) anal + minor mention of piss and drugging

this was a request! ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ part one here

It's been a few weeks since you unknowingly gave your virginity to your uncle Sukuna, and you've kept sleeping with him ever since.

You didn't know it was him the first time (or so you tell yourself) but now you have no grounds for doubt. You've spent enough of the time he's been on top of you mapping out the structure of his face to start seeing the similarities between you and him. The genetic tie that makes this oh so wrong.

And you feel disgusting doing it, crawling back to the man who deceived and deflowered you, but you've quickly learnt to crave the way he treats you — like he's familiar with you already. He's mean and dominant, but when he folds your body into impossible positions to take him deeper, it feels parental. Like how your father would adjust your grip when he tried to teach you how to golf.

Would he disown you for what you're doing? Laying down for his brother — your uncle — and learning to like the nausea that pits in your stomach when he cums inside? The risk, however miniscule with the pill he forces down your throat in his shitty attempt at aftercare, is still there. You're sure he'd just keel over if his baby girl came home knocked up with her felon uncle in tow.

Sukuna likes the thought. What's yours is mine, he'd always told his brother. And what isn't, will be.

Your dad has been texting more now that you're on break for the Summer. Usually you'd be at home on his couch by now, reminding your poor father that he'll always have an extra mouth to feed as long as you have a key, but you haven't been home yet. And of course that worries him; he's your dad, and there are some scary people out there.

Scary like Sukuna, who likes to make a game out of your discomfort when it comes to this... relationship of yours.

He'll tease you, threaten to get in touch with your dad and let him know he's out of prison and found a pretty girl to keep him in line. Maybe he'll pretend to repent for the lives he's taken, shoulder his brother's moral dues for forgiveness and weave his way back into family dinners. Maybe he'll come over, greet you as your estranged uncle, and then sneak up to your childhood bedroom at night to fuck you on top of the sheets you'd hide under when you had nightmares about your fabled uncle as a kid.

"He's spent my whole life telling me you're a bad man," you tell him one evening, hiked up onto his cold kitchen counter as he stands between your legs. "He'd never let you near me."

He just rolls his eyes. Perhaps his protections worked when you were a kid and skinned your knee, or a teenager made to chew up the cigarette he caught you smoking, but you're an adult now. Daddy can't protect you forever.

"If you were mine," he says, taking your chin between his fingers and lifting your gaze to his. "I'd lock you up, chain you to the radiator and spank your ass raw for even thinking about leaving."

If you were his. You blink, suddenly wet, and force down the nonplussed look on your face. "And if I did? Escape, I mean."

Your uncle leans down, presses an uncharacteristically soft kiss to your still lips, and then traces the flat of his tongue up your cheek to your ear like a dog. "Then I'd break your ankles, make you stand on them while I fuck your ass."

Something instinctive tells you he's not joking. If he had the means, the whim, he would. "Well you're not my dad," you exhale.

He pulls back, his eyes dead serious as one hand trails down and slips beneath the waistband of your shorts. He finds you hot and wet at his fingertips, and leans forward to ghost his lips against yours again.

"I can be, if you ask nicely."

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

That night, you learn the difference between calling a man 'daddy' in bed, and calling him 'dad'. Sukuna learns he might be jealous of that bitch of a brother he has, and how he's taken you and your sweet lips for granted for so long.

When he's done, and you're bruised and fucked-full, Sukuna doesn't let you up from the bed. By now you'd be dressed, watching your uncle with needy eyes as he lights a cigarette and tells you to come back when you want a good fuck again. But he keeps you, wraps his strong arms around your waist and scoffs at how fast you fall asleep. You weren't feeling too hot anyway.

This is becoming more than just sex.

Too bad he has to go and ruin it. You wake up hours later, laid out on your back with your legs spread wide and your uncle slotted between them. He's slapping your cheek lightly, waking you up to greet him in the early hours.

You notice a few things. First, he has your phone in hand, and he's calling someone. Your eyes are still blurred with sleep, and you blink them desperately to see who he's calling, but a second sensation stalls your mind.

His cock, rock hard and as imposing as ever, is pressed against your ass. The tip notches against your hole in threat, and as you panic and try to shift up the bed, he presses down nice and hard on your stomach. You've never... he's never tried it before. And he's Sukuna — of course you expected him to push for anal one of these days, but you thought you'd have a moment to prepare.

It doesn't help your plight that you're soaking wet, your cunt drools down onto his cock in want. There's a heated soreness inside that makes you wonder if he's already fucked you full — but you'd wake up if he did that, right?

Must be left over from last night.

You take a moment to breathe, and he grants you that, but then jerks his chin to the still-ringing phone. "It's your dad."

What? You jerk up to grab the phone, but with his hand pressing down on your stomach, you have no chance. "Give it to me."

"Shut the fuck up," he exhales, pushing his hips forward a little to press the head of his cock a fraction further against your ass. "I was texting him earlier from your phone. Don't think I sound much like you. Kept asking if you were drunk. He's strict."

"Yeah, he is," you sigh. "Please hang up."

"Didn't get told 'no' enough growing up, did you?" He rolls his eyes, moving his hand from your stomach to your wrists to hold them together as he rests your phone on your chest. "He'll be sleeping. You're going to leave a voicemail and tell him why you haven't been home — if you don't, I fuck your ass."

You wish you weren't so conflicted. You don't want it, obviously — which is what makes it a good threat — but there's a small part of you that's curious how he'd feel. You've heard it hurts, and your uncle doesn't know what gentle means.

The phone stops calling, and on clicks your father's voice. It's a plain voicemail, leave a message and I'll get back to you, but listening to his voice whilst his brother notches his cock at your asshole is... sickening.

You feel like throwing up, and almost do when you hear the message tone and Sukuna pushes forward a little. He's not inside, but you can feel him there — it wouldn't be hard for him to push past your muscle's resistance.

"Hey dad," you panic, staring your uncle in the eyes as you speak. It's almost like you're addressing him — you know he likes the name on your tongue. "I know it's late, but I..."

You trail off. Why would you be calling him at god-knows how late just to tell him you're spoken for? Maybe you're still asleep, and your dreams are just getting weird because your life is as well.

But when you hesitate, Sukuna's hips push forward. It's agonisingly slow, his entrance, which you think might be worse than if he were to just... fuck himself into you. You gasp as he pushes just the tip in, your ass burning at even that stretch and clenching around him in rejection.

Or need. You aren't sure.

'Keep going', he mouths, motioning with his hips in threat of more. You must look stupid, folded beneath him and on the verge of tears as you leave your real dad a voice message.

"I wanted to say sorry for not being in touch," you babble, a little mindless now. "I've just been so busy and — and um..."

A little deeper. Your lungs empty of their own volition, forcing you to splutter for breath. "AndImetsomeone," you blurt, panicked. "I met someone. He's... nice."

Sukuna snorts loud enough to be heard, his eyes sharp. He looks offended by your lie, so much so that he decides to show you just how wrong you are. With a sadistic tilt of his head, your uncle pushes himself forward and forces his weighty cock completely inside of you.

Well, he never said he wouldn't fuck your ass if you did as he asked.

Your vision floods white. The pain is there, of course — you feel like you're made completely of sewn partitions all threatening to rip at the seams — but it isn't as world-ending as you thought it'd be. The tears in your eyes say otherwise, but there's a sick part of you that likes just how much of your body has now been explored by the pink-haired, tattooed man on top of you.

So you start singing his praises, make him seethe with your kindness.

"He's sweet," you manage your words, though they're shaky and unsure. "Takes me on dates, buys me flowers, holds the door open. He's..." you choke a little, "... a gentleman."

Sukuna's shoulders are shaking, but with rage or laughter you aren't sure. He's smiling, but his eyes are murderous. He pulls almost completely out of you, which feels weirder than it feels painful, and then snaps inside again.

Holy fuck. You have to bite down on your tongue to stifle the sounds you want to make. Tears stream down your face as you sniffle, trying to mask all tones of pain and pleasure from your voice as you go on.

"I really like him."

Sukuna slows the roll of his hips a little, leans down, and licks at your lips. He doesn't kiss you often, he's got more of a penchant for licking you like a dog would — marking his territory, or whatever. He's so animalistic in his ways that you aren't sure you'd be surprised if he pissed inside of you one of these days to seal the deal.

And you find yourself grinding your hips up to meet his at the thought. You're going to hell one day, you're sure of it, but at least you'll have some sickening regrets to justify such an end-destination.

And he'll be right there with you.

"I just wanted you to know," you speak to your phone. "I, um, wanna stay here a bit longer. Spend... spend time with him. I'll come visit before the Summer is up, though. I miss you, and I love you a lot... okay, bye."

With a snarling grin, your uncle finally releases his bruising grip on your wrists, watching hungrily as you scramble to grab the phone on your chest and press the red 'end call' button.

"I love you a lot," Sukuna taunts you, quickening his pace inside of you. You thank the gods that you were wet enough to soak his cock first, otherwise his movements might not be so easy. "You love him more than me?"

"I..." god, your head is spinning. You feel like you've been fucked stupid. "I don't love you. I hardly know you."

Another mean thrust inside, and Sukuna is folding over on top of you to press his chest against yours. His face is so close that you can feel each exhalation through his nose as he growls, "that's no way to talk to your uncle, brat. 'Course you know me — we've got the same blood."

You don't need to be reminded. You see it every time you look at him now, and you hate yourself for not hating it. He's more you than anyone else ever will be. You aren't sure you could fuck another person knowing they aren't a part of you like Sukuna is.

Still, you don't know him. Not really — you don't even know why he was in prison your entire life.

"Have you killed people?" You blurt, for some deranged reason beyond your own comprehension.

"Don't ask stupid questions," is his answer. He doesn't seem affected — if anything, he was more offended that you called him nice. "You take my cock well here. Maybe I should just use this hole."

You grimace. He feels good like this, you're quickly forgetting about the pulling pressure of his cock in your ass, but you're also becoming increasingly aware of just how empty your cunt feels now. You've gotten spoilt, used to the way he fills you up.

"Thought you'd make it hurt more," you admit. "I... god, I could come like this."

"You don't deserve to come like this," he replies, snapping his hips forward as he chases his own release, racing you to the end. He wins, of course, and with a shuddering exhale, pumps rope after rope of his hot cum inside of your ass. "You came twice already while I stretched you out on my fingers. I'll make it hurt when you really piss me off."

Your eyes widen. How long had he been playing with you before he woke you up? Was he texting your dad and prepping you at the same time?

His hips still inside of you, denying you any more friction to accompany your building orgasm. You frown as it fades away, but your uncle delivers a few sharp smacks to your aching pussy in warning not to beg or argue.

When he pulls out, globs of his cum follow. The sheets beneath you will need to be changed, but knowing your uncle; he'll make you sleep in the mess you've made first. It's the little acts of degradation that add up, make you remember just what you are when you're beneath him.

You're sore. So sore, in fact, that you're not loving the prospect of doing this again. You aren't sure the pleasure is worth the searing pain in your ass.

You sniffle, wipe at your burning nose. "Did I really come twice?"

Like clockwork, your uncle grabs his pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the floor beside the mattress and lights up. He takes a long, deep drag of his cig, and then shakes his head on the exhale, blowing his smoke right at you. Your hair is going to stink come morning.

"Told you not to ask stupid questions," he chides, speaking through the side of his mouth. "You cried like a baby, tried to kick me off even in your sleep. Was surprised you didn't wake up, guess the pills I slipped you in that beer did their job."

[oncam]

your dad, satoru “you cryin?” gojo, making you feel better after a bad day based on this request <3

cw : father-daughter incest, cunnilingus, overstim, creampie, daddy kink sorry but come on, slight dumbification

satoru was the best dad. at least you thought so.

but you learned very early on that your relationship with him was different than other peoples' relationships with their fathers. that much was obvious after a couple conversations with your friends.

for example, when they wanted something from the store, their dads said maybe they could get it when it was their birthday. satoru would just hand you his card with a smile, telling you to go grab it before it sells out.

when your friends wanted to go out, their dads would scrutinize their outfit choices, urging them to opt for something more conservative. satoru would tell you how hot you looked, making you give his hungry gaze a spin before suggesting that maybe you should just stay in with him.

and when your friends got a bad grade, or had a particularly rough day at school, their dads would tell them "that's life." satoru couldn't imagine being so nonchalant toward his darling daughter, essentially telling you to just get over it.

no, satoru always takes it upon himself to make you feel better when you have days like that—like today.

when you get home, you're buzzing with irritation. your teacher had given you a C minus on your paper. a C minus! even after you'd spent so much time on it, researching and writing until the early hours of the morning.

you can’t believe it.

you swing open the front door and drop your backpack on the floor, the loud thump causing your dad to come investigate what's going on.

"oh sweets, what happened?" he coos, scooping you into his arms when he notices the frown on your face and hears the frustrated huff you let out.

"my dumb professor gave me a bad grade on my paper," you mutter, hooking your arms around his neck.

"the one you spent so much time on?" satoru's incredulous tone tells you he's just as upset as you are—if not more.

he can't have this. and as your dad, satoru knows exactly what you need to feel better.

you need to be spread out atop his bed, your heels digging into his back and your thighs squeezing his head tight as he buries his face into your dripping pussy.

he's been lapping at you for what feels like hours.

and your dad is always so messy when he's eating you out. practically making out with your cunt, his tongue sliding between your folds before his lips latch onto your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a lewd slurp. you can hear his haggard breathing between each suck, desperation oozing off of the man in waves as his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your ass.

"dad s-stop, too much," you mewl, pushing at his head.

slick has started to drip down to your asshole and onto the mattress, a consequence of orgasm after orgasm being forcefully ripped from you. no matter how much you tug on satoru's hair or try to shove him away, he's too strong. you're completely at his mercy until he's decided that he’s had his fill of you.

he pulls back for a moment, crazed blue eyes looking up at you before spitting right onto your cunt. you squirm at the feeling of the wet glob rolling down over your slit.

"you can handle it, baby," satoru runs two fingers along your pussy lips, smearing the spit around before pushing them slowly into your tight hole. "you're doing so well. A+ from me," he smirks, finding himself funny.

"oh god, haah, w-wait," your legs are shaking and you feel tears pricking your eyes.

"hmm?" satoru hums, watching you closely as he starts to pump both fingers in and out of you. he knows it's a lot, he knows his baby is so sensitive, and he knows you think it's too much—but it's not.

it's not too much until you're so fucked out that you can't think.

but it hurts. your clit all puffy from being rubbed and slapped, then pulled between satoru's lips. and your poor hole has been stretched open over and over by your dad's long fingers.

finally, when you can't take it anymore and those shiny tears start to pour down your cheeks as you clench down around satoru's fingers and cum for the umpteenth time, he knows you've forgotten about that silly grade.

"aww…" he tuts with mock sympathy, fingering you through your climax as you shake and moan. "you cryin'?"

all you can do is sniffle and weakly groan, the daunting task of forming a complete sentence to reply being too much for your poor brain at the moment.

satoru laughs against your twitching cunt, his nose nudging at your clit while he pampers your sopping folds with kitten licks. swipe after swipe of his tongue working to clean you up.

a sigh of relief escapes you when he finally pulls away but not without leaving your pussy all red and sore. satoru has to take a moment to admire you sprawled out before him, your eyelids fluttering shut, heavy with sleep, and a sheen of sweat on your forehead. his hands caress your waist then slide down to your knees so he can gently spread your legs further apart, allowing him to shuffle in between them.

satoru is so uncharacteristically quiet that you hardly think anything of the way he's positioning himself until you feel the heat of his cock nestled between your folds. a slow roll of his hips drags his length along your slit and he shudders from the feeling. so warm, so wet.

gripping the base of his cock, satoru taps the underside against your clit—quick little hits that make you stir, your attention being pulled back to him. both of you are entranced by the view where your bodies meet. webs of translucent slick cling to satoru's dick as he teases you, making your cheeks sear with heat.

“dad, please,” you beg, grinding your hips. “please, i need you.”

it's embarassing how messy your cunt is now after all the times your dad made you cum in his mouth. your juices and his spit mix together with the pre that's leaking from his flushed tip when he glides his cock back and forth along your cunt.

satoru laughs again, finding it humorous how just a couple minutes ago you were complaining about it being “too much.” all it took was the feeling of his cock rutting between your folds for you to get greedy again.

“i know, i know. you’re gonna be so full baby, i promise.”

"just—" you hesistate, your hand gripping his wrist while he aligns himself at your entrance.

"just?" satoru shifts, moving to balance himself above you on his free hand. the change pushes him forward slightly so the head of his cock nestles itself inside you, just past that ring of resistance. you whine at the intrustion while he groans at how tight you feel.

"ah—s-sensitive," you hold onto him tighter, "be gentle, please?"

satoru nods fervently, white locks clinging to his forehead already while he watches the way your body is sucking him in. truth be told, he didn't really hear what you said, he was too focused on the way you feel to listen. which is why instead of pushing himself in nice and slow, he snaps his hips forward in one fast motion making you cry out.

"f-fuck! s'too big, wait—”

"no, no it's not too big," satoru gasps, leaning his full weight into you until he's sure every last bit of him is buried deep inside your pussy. you're writhing beneath him, the sudden fullness being too much too fast after his prior treatment. "it's perfect, you're perfect—this is what you wanted, remember? my sweet girl, love you so so much."

that's what he says, but the way he fucks you is like he hates you. his thrusts are cruel, his hips slamming against your pelvis with a force that nearly knocks the air from your lungs. satoru's cradling your head into his chest with one hand and squeezing your hips with a bruising grip in the other.

"shit, so tight. h-how? made you cum so much, fucking squeezing me," satoru's rambling on between grunts as he continues to plow you into the mattress.

and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and take it.

you endure every ruthless, animalistic thrust as your dad bullies his cock into your abused cunt until the painful stretch and overstimulation morphs into something palatable. and then you drink up every inch of pleasure that satoru gives you until again, you're cumming for him.

you moan helplessly as your nails dig into his pale skin and your trembling legs lock around his hips that continue to fuck you through your climax.

"oh my god, oh my—dad!" the words escape you with a broken sob and the sound alone is enough for satoru to shatter.

hearing his daughter's honeyed voice calling out for her daddy while she creams on his cock is maybe the most obscene and romantic thing in satoru's twisted mind.

"daddy's here, daddy's got you," he croons with a final push of himself into you. "gonna cum, ah fuck.”

you squeeze your legs even tighter, keeping him deep inside your spasming cunt while you milk him for everything he's worth.

it feels so good to be able to turn your brain off while you get filled up, your daddy's cock still twitching inside your pussy while his cum starts to seep out.

"feeling better, sweetheart?" satoru breathes, peppering kisses along your collarbone and shoulder.

you are.

[luckieangel]

non consensual somno because he knows what you need — you’re pathetically rubbing yourself against the pillow, brow furrowed, lips parted. you’d just feel so much better with his cock buried in your pussy. shushes you when you wake up, your wrists pinned above your head — “it’s okay, baby, i’m here for you.”

[ratbudding]

──── 🐁 cw stepcest-adjacent, cheating, dubcon

lazy ass bum toji worms his way into your life by way of your widowed mother. your father, having left behind generous savings and a lavishly furnished house worth enough to call your abode “comfortable” to guests, couldn’t have foreseen your mother moving on mere months after his death. and neither did you.

perhaps that’s why you’re such a bitch about it. you come home for the holidays just to snap at him, pushing his buttons in front of your mom to see if he’ll crack. if he’ll show her enough of his money-grubbing ego to have her disillusioned.

naturally, he’ll get booted out. and then, you reason, things will go back to normal.

but, weirdly enough, your behavior doesn’t deter him. if anything, the more irritable you get, the bigger his god-awful simper spreads.

what you’ve failed to account for is that toji loves a challenge. even more so if it means getting a one-up on stuck-up brats like you—pretty ones that lounge around in cute cotton camisoles and sleep shorts so tight he swears he can see everything, brows furrowed as they pout up at him.

he fantasizes about bending you over the knee and slapping your pussy for every time you’ve called him a broke old man. hooking his fingers—two, and he’s sure you’d already be crying out his name—inside your cunt and spreading you open, scissoring, targeting your most sensitive areas. calloused thumb working at your clit until your toes curled and your eyes rolled back with a gasp.

no, no… he’d start slow, first. he’d pull down that wretched camisole and give your pretty tits some love, swirling his tongue just shy of your nipple before closing his lips and sucking. and because he’s a generous man, he’d fondle your other breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two fingers. so neither one is lonely.

maybe he’ll do it in your sleep, someday, so you can wake up and whine his name like you do when you complain. he wonders what expression you’d make.

on the days you’re particularly bratty, he dreams of harsher things. taking you from the back, sinking into you so you feel his dick like a weight pinning you to the bed. thrusting in and out slow, painstakingly so, broad hand just below the nape of your neck to press you into the mattress. he knows you’d be sopping wet. your glares can’t hide the way your thighs shift at the rumble of his voice.

if you asked him to pull out, he’d comply with a snort—slipping out slow and pressing his tip flush against your clit. your hips would jolt into the mattress, trying to escape from the pleasure, and he'd sneer. you've always been flighty.

then, to deny you the grace of getting away, he'd spread your slick up and down your folds with his length, before notching right back at your entrance. sinking in slow to feel the way your walls milk him in, cunt fluttering as you struggled to take his length. he'd fuck you so thoroughly you’d be ruined for anyone else—and sure, you’d take some stretching out... but you’re a strong girl. you could take it.

when he’s in the living room and you’re down for breakfast, he seriously considers coming up behind you and reaching for a glass, just to slot his thigh between your parted legs. he’d be mean about it, too—raising just high enough that you’d have to rest your weight on him. he’d run his warm hands down your sides, to your hips, sliding you up his thigh and grinding your twitchy clit against hard muscle until you got your sleep shorts niiice and soaked.

what would you do, then? bite your lip and glare? moan? the idea is so enticing he nearly follows through.

alas, toji would rather not go back to living paycheck-to-paycheck, and feeling up his benefactor’s daughter is a surefire way to get dumped. so he resigns himself to watching from afar. and perhaps snatching the occasional lingerie here and there, for purposes he surmises are glaringly obvious.

[ratbudding]

can i please have a look at your extensive dick cheese collection? i have some rat friends coming over and i really wanna impress them.

ah cheese. the currency of miniature dreams

[oncam]

big brother yuji and uncle sukuna use your throat before dinner

2.9k cw : incest, cheating, degradation, praise, blowjobs & face fucking, cum shots, cum swallowing, humiliation, some misogyny, butt stuff if you squint, very dubcon. based on this request <3

You and Yuji never had a normal sibling relationship, you two were always closer than that. When other parents would complaining about their siblings bullying one another and fighting constantly, your parents would boast about how well their kids got along.

You're not sure your parents ever used a word other than "sweet" when talking about you and your brother, but they'd probably keel over and die if they knew about even a fraction of what you two do to one another.

The cuddling, the kisses on your cheeks and forehead, those could maybe be overlooked. But eventually those turned into makeout sessions and dry humping until you both came in your pajamas, and neither of you could restrain yourselves anymore after that. What you were doing had already crossed the line so you might as well go all the way.

Yuji would join you in the shower, fuck you up against the glass and wash your hair after. He would drive you to see your friends, but you would just wind up riding him in the backseat before heading home right after to have sex one more time.

You two tried to be at least somewhat discreet, but eventually you started to get a bit too comfortable. And that's how you're here now. Home for the holidays and in Yuji’s old bedroom where you’re straddling his face, your own just an inch away from his pelvis, all while your family is preparing dinner down the hall.

You're trying to make him feel as good as you, you really are. Your lips are sealed around his cock as you bob your head up and down, tongue gliding along his shaft. But it's so hard to keep up whenever his tongue dips into your cunt, lapping at your dripping hole and flicking at your clit.

Yuji's eating you out with a desperation you've never felt from him before because he knows you have limited time. The loud voices and laughter coming from the kitchen tell you that your parents are still drinking and chatting with your aunt and uncle, but eventually someone will come knocking to let you know the food is ready.

And all that Yuji wants before he sits down for dinner is to feel you gushing onto his tongue, swallowing whatever he can of your cum to whet his appetite.

He's practically slurping up your arousal as two hands grip your ass, kneading the fat and spreading you open to get better access to your cunt. Yuji can tell by the way your legs are shaking and you're spending more time moaning around his cock than sucking it that you're getting close.

In the back of your mind, there's a budding feeling of guilt surrounding your inability to pleasure your brother at the moment. Yuji hasn't paid it any mind though because he knows it's not your fault—it's his.

He makes you feel so good.

Your toes curl as your hands grip the bedsheets when he slides a hand inward, circling his thumb around your asshole. The pressure is foreign and makes you squirm and not a minute later you're cumming. You'd worry that Yuji's nearly drowning with the way your pussy is soaking his face, but he won't let you go.

Strong hands move to your thighs and hold you in place as he keeps licking at your twitching hole, gently cleaning you up. You whimper softly around Yuji's stiff cock when your hips jerk on instinct to pull away, the sensitivity making your head spin.

"Tastes so good baby," Yuji's out of breath, swiping his tongue lazily against your clit once more. He chuckles against you when you whine at the feeling. "God I can't get enough of you, wish I could do this for hours."

"Fuckin' knew I'd find you two in here."

It's almost comical the way you and Yuji move in sync, both of you peeling yourselves away from one another in record time and spinning around to see none other than your uncle Sukuna. He's shutting the bedroom door behind him with a soft click when he meets your eye, a dangerous glint shining in his.

"It's uh, it's not what it looks like," Yuji throws out the same tired excuse everyone tries.

As if you aren't both naked and sweaty, hair touseled and chests heaving as you sit atop opposite ends of Yuji's bed.

Sukuna lets out a sharp laugh, his arms coming to cross in front of his broad chest as he looks down his nose at the two of you. "You mean you two weren't just 69ing like a couple of amateurs?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest as a sweat breaks out across your forehead. You two are so screwed. One look at Yuji tells you enough to know that the idiot boy is still going to try and talk his way out of this but it's a lost cause. You're not even sure how long your uncle had been standing there because you never even heard the door open!

"Please, uncle Sukuna," your voice wavers in a way that you hate, "don't tell them. Y-you can't."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't." Sukuna spits the pet name at you so rudely it makes your stomach turn with disappointment remembering all the times your father used it as a term of endearment. "But what do i get for keepin' my mouth shut?"

You're at a loss for words. You think he can't possibly be serious right now but everything about his demeanor tells you that he is. Sukuna steps toward you, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you shiver and his mouth splits into a wide smile.

"Your brother make you feel good?" Sukuna coos, "looked like he made you cum pretty hard."

Yuji's eyes are darting between you and Sukuna, just as dumbfounded as you are. The difference is that you still look scared, it's obvious by the look on your face and the way you're curling in on yourself. But Yuji is over that initial sense of panic, and watching the way his uncle's large hand easily wraps around your neck is making his cock twitch back to life.

Your breath hitches. You should be able to breathe just fine, Sukuna's hand is only resting around your throat, not squeezing. And yet it feels like you're not getting enough air.

"Need to find out for myself what's got this kid so whipped," Sukuna mutters before pulling you by your neck. He guides you off the bed and towards the ground until you're kneeling at his feet.

Yuji is enamored by the scene in front of him. It has never been like this between you two—such an obvious difference in power. It wasn't even something he'd considered because it's you, his darling sister. But now, he'll never be able to forget it.

Yuji will forever replay in his mind the silence as you obediently let Sukuna lead, and that flicker of reverence in your eyes that are otherwise swimming with unease.

"Open up, tongue out," Sukuna lightly slaps your cheek until you do as he says, letting your jaw fall slack. "Good girl."

He makes you wait like that, tongue lolled out of your mouth that's open wide while he undoes his pants and pulls them down. You feel like a damn dog, sitting at your owner's feet and awaiting your next command.

Sukuna sighs with relief when his hand grips his hard cock, pumping it a few times. He taps it against your tongue and your cheek before he pushes just the tip past your lips. Your mouth closes around him immediately, giving him a soft suck before he rewards you with more of his length.

Yuji hasn't been able to tear his eyes away from you two until Sukuna addresses him directly, snapping him out of his trance. "Gotta show you how to use her right. You've been too easy on her, I can tell."

Your worried gaze darts to your brother, seeking some help since you can't talk with your uncle's dick in your mouth. But he won't look at you now. His cheeks are tinted pink and he's keeping his lips sealed, refusing to stick his neck out for you.

"Yeah," Sukuna groans, rolling his hips into you. "She wasn’t even tryin' to get you off even after you made her cum."

A large hand grips the back of your head, holding you still. The hard floor is making your knees ache but you don't dare try to move. Spit is pooling in your mouth and you swallow it down with a struggle, the tiny movement snapping Sukuna's attention back to you. The wolfish grin on his face does nothing to placate your nerves.

"Your big brother's spoiled you, huh?" You were never meant to reply to Sukuna's question, but it's like he wanted to make sure you couldn't even try with the way he thrusts hard and fast into your mouth until you gag.

The head of your uncle's cock is pressed up against the back of your throat, making your eyes well up instantly. You're coughing around his length, lips sputtering as your body tries hopelessly to expel what's lodged in your throat. Of course all that does is make you constrict around Sukuna, eliciting another low groan from the man.

"Tightest fuckin' throat, I knew it." And with that he's got both hands on the sides of your head, gripping you like a vice as he starts rutting into your mouth. The thrusts start off shallow and fast, but he quickly gets tired of that. It's not getting enough of a reaction from you.

He's not deep enough.

He needs to be burying himself so far into your hot mouth that your nose is brushing against his pubes and his balls are slapping against your chin.

The tears that were resting in your waterline start to fall, forming pretty rivulets down your face that turn black as they drag your mascara with them. The spit in your mouth is starting to trickle out the corners, what doesn't escape just makes you cough harder each time you forget to breathe through your nose which is now running too. Within seconds your uncle has reduced you to little more than a sloppy toy for his pleasure.

Yuji's own breathing has become labored, his chest heaving and cock aching as he pumps it wildly. He loves his little sister, and he almost feels bad for finding this so hot, but you just look absolutely ruined. So pretty that you could be the star in one of his favorite pornos with the way you're crying and moaning while Sukuna fucks your face.

The best part is that through it all you just… let him.

Your hands are wrapped around his thighs, but you're not scratching or pushing, they're just there to ground yourself while you choke on his girth.

And the sounds. God, they're fucking obscene. Gagging and retching on Sukuna's cock, your lips slurping around him whenever you try to stop more drool from spilling out.

Sukuna's lost in it all too, his orgasm approaching rapidly. But right when you feel his dick starting to throb, pulsing against your tongue, he yanks you off of him.

"Fuck, almost came down that little throat. Feels so much better than the wife's," Sukuna grunts, addressing Yuji. You're hardly listening while gasping for air, taking whatever chance you get to try and wipe some of the mess off your face. "She takes it like a champ though, you got a nice slut for a sister huh?"

Yuji stutters, his hand slowing to stroke himself lazily, "y-yeah I do." It feels wrong to talk about you like that, especially with you kneeling there in front of them, but he's also so god damn horny.

"So start treating her like one," Sukuna snaps, giving your head a quick shove until you're falling into Yuji's legs. His free hand comes to stabilize you gently, and you look up at him with big pleading eyes. He knows that you're begging him silently—the only way you can with your throat bruised and sore—to not listen to your uncle.

"C'mon sis, I'll be fast. I promise," Yuji strokes your head softly and you let out a tiny whine. But of course you listen. You open your mouth for him, sticking your tongue out and sitting still just like you did for your uncle as your brother now slides his shaft down your throat. "Fuuuck, that feels good," Yuji groans loudly, earning him a glare from Sukuna.

"So damn loud. You want your aunt to hear us in here?"

Yuji's mouth shuts and he shakes his head quickly before letting it fall back with his eyes closed. He's trying to focus all his energy on his climax now, not wanting to waste any more time.

"Always thought you were more like me than your dad," Sukuna comments, earning a confused look from Yuji. "You're fucked up too. An asshole, even though you've got that nice guy act all figured out."

Sukuna's rough palm glides along his length, his fingers wrapped tight as he fists his cock. Yuji shakes his head again, "'m not fucked u-up. Not like you."

Sukuna barks out that deep laugh of his, seemingly forgetting already about your aunt that he was so concerned about just a minute ago. "You sure about that?"

"Mhmn, I'm—haah, fuck," Yuji's whining while he tries to protest in his defense.

"Then how come you're fuckin' your sisters face so hard she looks like she's about to pass out?"

Yuji's head whips forward like he's not sure what the hell Sukuna's talking about, but it's true. Your eyes are rolling back, face red and wet with snot, spit and tears. That's when he realizes that your nose is just as stuffed up as your throat from all the crying. You're tapping weakly against his thigh and moaning around him.

"Shit," Yuji curses under his breath. "I'm so close baby, m'sorry," his voice cracks as the pitch raises, and he sounds so needy it's hard not to feel bad for him. "Just a little longer, I swear. You can do that for me right?"

You really want to be able to. Yuji does so much for you and you want to reciprocate but you're worried that you may actually faint. Your hand is now slapping at Yuji's leg desperately but he ignores you. When you whine loudly in a panic he finally stops, but only because the vibrations feel so good he has to bury himself to the hilt inside your throat so he can feel them when he finishes.

"Cumming, 'm cumming—fuck!" He holds you there while the bitter taste of his cum floods your mouth. Black specks start to apppear in the corners of your vision as you anxiously try to swallow everything Yuji's giving you, your cloudy mind determined to not waste a drop.

"There you go. Swallow it all like a good girl." Sukuna's so close too. Enthralled by the vision of your throat bobbing desperately, your fucked-out face all red and puffy, and Yuji's long cock sliding out from between your glossy lips.

Sukuna knows he would be completely and utterly fucked if his wife came looking for him right now. Especially because he's not sure he'd stop even if she burst through the door screaming at him.

You, on the other hand, can't even spare an ounce of energy to think about the rest of your family in this moment because you can breathe again. Your eyes are blinking rapidly, trying to clear your blurry vision but before you know it you're being grabbed again.

"Come here," Sukuna rasps, "shit, I'm gonna—lemme cum in your mouth too, yeah?"

Hesitantly, you stick your tongue out for Sukuna, but he's never had the best aim. Your eyes squeeze shut just in time and you wince when you feel spurt after spurt of your uncles hot release landing all over your face. "Ah fuck, I'm sorry kid," he apologizes without a hint of remorse, "I tried."

Yuji is now certain that he really isn't as good of a person as he thought, since the feeling he's experiencing most in this moment is pure adoration. Not guilt, not sympathy as you start to sniffle, fresh tears forming in your eyes from the humiliation. No, all your brother can think about is how perfect you look as a complete mess for him and his uncle.

He squats beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and letting you slump into his chest. Petting your head gently, he gives you soft praises about how well you did for him and Sukuna, how good you made them feel. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and it's enough for you to nearly forget about everything they just put you through.

In fact, you almost forgot that Sukuna was even in the room until he's grumbling at you two while tucking himself back into his pants. "Clean up. I'm supposed to make sure you kids are ready when the food is, I don't need the wife bitchin' at me cause you aren't."

Oh yeah, family dinner. The reason you're all back at your parents house in the first place.

a/n this one got away from me!! so it turned out a bit longer and it was so fun to write :3 i hope you all enjoyed

[oncam]

cw : father-daughter incest, cheating, degradation, humiliation, daddy kink, creampie. based on this request <3

"oh god, fuck!" is all you can manage to say when toji's hips slam against your ass, sheathing his cock inside your tight cunt with one brutal thrust.

he ruts into you with a precision that's just mean. punishing you with slow, forceful movements that are intended to make you feel every inch of him stretching out your poor pussy.

you squirm beneath his body as he leans over you, one hand pinning both your wrists behind your back while the other presses your face into the pillow.

your mother's pillow. the cover of which is now dirtied with spit and tears because your dad loves you so much that he won't go easy on you when he fucks you stupid. toji raised you, he knows you can handle it—such a big girl.

"dad, it hurts," your voice is all whiny in a way that makes toji's dick twitch inside your heat.

of course you're complaining to him about that even though it's your fault. your pussy is so god damn wet, a creamy white ring pooling around the base of his cock, and you're still strangling it. toji can't even remember the last time he was inside someone this tight.

"you fuckin' hear yourself?" he’s teasing you, his lips brushing up against your ear. the closer he leans into you the more he forces your back to arch, only shoving his cock even deeper in your stomach. "cryin’ for your daddy cause you can't take his dick.”

he's never spoken to you this way. so condescending it makes you feel even smaller than you already did with his body caging you in against the mattress.

all you can do is whimper and try to breathe through the stretch as he splits you in half, but you must be doing something right since that earns you some rare praise. "atta girl, keep breathin' just like that." your heart flutters at the sincerity, making your body finally relax into him.

the change is immediate. the pain between your thighs dissipates nearly entirely as a wave of pleasure overwhelms you instead. there's a sharp inhale above you, "fuck, that got you close already?"

you stutter, struggling to form a proper sentence, “i-i think—“

"spit it out, kid," toji grunts low and loud beside your head. "you gonna cum for me?"

you hiccup and a fresh stream of tears dribbles down your cheeks as you choke out a high pitched, "mmhmn!"

cute. "go on," he goads, "do it. soak my cock like a good little slut, yeah? make your dad proud."

he's shameless. and how could he not be? you’re drenched, slick enough that he's sliding along your walls so easy. if you weren't as fucking tight as you are, his dick would've slipped out of your cunt a million times already.

his breath is hot and his lips soft as he presses a quick kiss behind your ear—another a gesture more gentle than you thought possible from him in this moment. "daddy's gonna take care of ya. i'll make sure you're leakin' all over your mom's side of the bed."

that should have snapped you out of your cockdrunk haze. your poor mother. away on a business trip, completely oblivious to the way her husband is fucking their precious daughter back at home on the bed they share every night.

and you. you just beg for toji to keep going with a desperation you’ve never heard from yourself before. "please! don't s-stop—need you, dad please.”

the deep laugh that erupts from toji makes your eyebrows furrow with confusion because your dizzy mind can't figure out why he finds you so funny. “daaad please!" his voice jumps up an octave, mocking you with another laugh before returning to normal. "if only you could see yourself right now, princess. it's pathetic."

you suppose you can't even disagree with that because those words and a particularly hard thrust are all it takes for you to fall apart completely. eyes screwed shut and moaning into the pillow, you cum harder than you ever have before.

for a brief second while you’re shaking beneath him, toji thinks that maybe he should at least pull out for your sake. and then he thinks that he must really love his daughter because he's never had that sliver of consideration for anyone else.

but that's all it is—a sliver of consideration, a thought. it's not enough to stop him from ramming his cock into you one last time, plugging you up as his balls twitch and he unloads rope after rope of his seed into you.

when toji finally leans back and releases your head, that allows you to crane your aching neck to glance between your legs. all you find is a mess of you and your dad's cum, thick and white, dripping slowly onto your parents sheets from where your bodies are still connected.

a/n i did dad toji for this one because i felt like the way i wrote it fit him better, but dad suguru is on my mind now…