#stepbro

[jamesdeanbby]

~♡ꜝꜞ  ❝ 𝓖enerous guy ❞ ────── · · stepbro! Dean Winchester x fem ! stepsis ! reader

a / n : THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FROM TIKTOK THAT LET ME KNOW THAT YALL WANTED ITTTTT HER EIT ISSS

character/s featured. dean winchester .ᐟ sam winchester .ᐟ rating: smut .ᐟ

TW : stepcest? ig? dark! winchester brothers sagaaa<33

🏷 ,, ( @reginaphalangelobster , @isaa3xvs , @paigelouise , @laywinchester , @nutcasefuckface , @whimsicalbunnys , @dandelionsn , @stilesobruges )

requesting rules. masterlist.

The motel room was small, cramped, and smelled faintly of stale cigarettes and cheap bleach. The kind of place the Winchesters had called home for as long as you could remember. The three of you had been on the road for six days straight, chasing a pack of werewolves through three states, and everyone was running on fumes.

Sam had volunteered to go grab food. He'd been practically asleep on his feet, but he'd insisted, mumbling something about needing to stretch his legs and get some air. Dean had just grunted, tossing him the car keys, and Sam had shuffled out the door, leaving you and Dean to haul the bags up to the room.

"Go get the key," Dean had said, shoving the duffel bag straps higher on his shoulder. "I'll grab the bags."

You'd nodded, already jogging toward the front office, not giving it a second thought. Dean was always handling the bags. He was strong, capable, and just controlling enough to insist on doing it himself.

But there was something you hadn't noticed.

Something Dean had noticed very, very carefully.

Hours passed. Sam came back with greasy burgers and fries, the three of you ate in comfortable silence, and then Sam was practically collapsing into one of the two beds, out cold within minutes. His breathing evened out into a steady, rhythmic pattern, his long body sprawled across the mattress in a way that looked deeply uncomfortable but somehow still peaceful.

You sat on the edge of the other bed, listening to music on your mp3, watching the time tick by. It was late. Almost midnight. And you were starting to feel grimy from the day's travel.

Finally, you sighed, tossing the small device onto the bed and standing up. You stretched, your joints popping, and padded over to where the bags were.

Except yours wasn't there.

You frowned, looking around the room. Maybe Dean had left it by the door? No. Maybe under the bed? You dropped to your knees, peering into the shadows beneath the bed frames, but there was nothing but dust bunnies and a long-forgotten candy wrapper.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" Dean's voice came from behind you, low and lazy. He was sitting on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, looking at a lore book with a look of practiced disinterest.

"I can't find my bag." you huffed out, your voice indignant.

Dean didn't look up. "What d’ya mean you can't find it?"

"I mean it's not here." You stood up, brushing off your knees. "It’s not with your bags and... oh."

"What?"

"I left it in the backseat of the car." You mumbled, the feelings of indignation being replaced by the shame of realizing the only to blame was yourself. "Since I was riding in the back, I put it under Sam’s seat and I just... I forgot to grab it. I left it there."

Dean finally looked up, and his expression was... complicated. There was a flash of something in his eyes, something dark and quick, that you couldn't quite read. Then it was gone, replaced by a theatrical sigh of exasperation.

"Jesus Christ, sweetheart. I told you to leave your bag in the trunk. I told you I'd grab it when we got here."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry-"

"I specifically said, 'Put your bag in the trunk.' And what did you go do?"

"I forgot." You huffed out.

"You forgot." He shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. "You forgot. So now your bag is in the car.”

"Okay, I get it. I'm an idiot. I'll just go grab it-"

"Ah-ah-ah, little miss i never listen to my step brother, You're not going anywhere."

You blinked. "What?"

"It's fucking freezing out there, sweetheart. And you're wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt. You'll get sick. And I'm not spending tomorrow taking care of you because you were too stubborn to stay inside."

"Dean, it's fine-"

“No, it isn’t, because it’s not just that. The parking lot is a 10 minute walk from the room we're at, it’s nearly 12, at this hour drunk creeps are roaming around and in this darkness you ain’t seeing my baby even if it was parked right infront of your blind ass.”

“Hey!”

"You’ve lost the rights to ‘hey’ me. Sit down." He pointed to the foot of the bed. "We'll figure this out."

You sat, feeling like a child being scolded. "So... what am I supposed to do?"

Dean leaned back again, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, you need to shower. You smell like road trip." He flashed you a teasing grin, just to soften the blow. "But you don't have any clothes."

"Obviously."

"So you're going to have to borrow some of mine."

You stared at him. "Yours?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, mine." He stood up, moving to his own duffel bag and unzipping it. "Unless you want to sleep in your dirty clothes and shower in the morning, but I don't recommend that."

He took the disgusted grimace that flashed through your face as enough of an answer and dived right into rummaging around in his bag. He then pulled out a faded Metallica shirt and a pair of black boxers. He tossed them at you without ceremony. You caught them, holding them up.

"But there isn’t..."

"What, did you think I was gonna have a bra in there? You think I'm a drag queen or something?"

You made a face at him. "No, I just—"

"Look, it's either this or you sleep in your dirty clothes. Your call." He crossed his arms, waiting.

You looked down at the clothes in your hands, then back up at him. There was something in his expression, something patient and predatory, like a cat watching a mouse. It made your stomach flip in a way you didn't want to examine too closely.

"Fine," you said, standing up. "But if Sam asks—"

"Sam's asleep. Trust me, he won't notice a thing."

You nodded, clutching the clothes to your chest, and headed for the bathroom.

The shower was hot, almost scalding, and it felt amazing. You stood under the spray for a long time, letting the water wash away the grime and tension of the day. Your mind wandered to the bed situation: were you going to have to share with Sam? With Dean? With neither? The motel only had two beds, and the three of you had never been in this exact configuration before. 

Before, there had always been a couch. Or a cot. Or someone had crashed in the car.

Now, though...

You shook the thought away, turning off the water and stepping out. You toweled off, your skin pink and warm, and then you reached for the clothes Dean had given you.

The shirt was soft, worn, and smelled like him. Like leather and gunpowder and that subtle cologne he always wore. You pulled it over your head, and it fell to your mid-thigh. The boxers were a close fit, so they worked for you. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. It was... a look. Definitely not what you'd usually wear, but it was comfortable. And warm. And it smelled like Dean.

Stop, you told yourself firmly. He's your brother.

Stepbrother, a voice whispered back. There's no blood between you.

You shut that voice down hard, opening the bathroom door and stepping out into the main room.

Dean was waiting for you.

He was still on his bed, having picked up the book again, but he looked up the moment the bathroom door opened. His gaze swept over you, and for a moment, his face went completely blank.

Then something flickered in his eyes. Something dark. Something hungry.

"Damn, sweetheart," he said, his voice low. "You look..."

"What?" You felt your cheeks flush. "Ridiculous?"

"Good," he said, his voice rougher than before. "You look good. Really good."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. There was something in the air now, something electric and charged. The space between you felt too small, too hot, too much.

Dean set the book aside and stood up. He walked toward you slowly, deliberately, like he was stalking prey. You backed up instinctively, and your back hit the wall.

"Dean..."

"You know," he said, his voice a low murmur, "I don't think I've ever seen you in my clothes before. Should've done this sooner."

"Dean, we shouldn't-"

"Shouldn't what, babygirl?" He stepped closer, his body almost pressed against yours. "Shouldn't admire how fucking good you look in my shirt?"

Your breath caught. "Sam's asleep..."

"I know." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "That's the point."

And then he was kissing you.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't tentative. It was hungry and demanding and possessive, his mouth claiming yours like he'd been waiting for this for years. Which, if you were being honest with yourself, he probably had.

You melted against him, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. He groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips, pulling you tight against him.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"Dean, we can't-"

"Shh." He pressed a finger to your lips. "We can. We can do whatever we want, sweetheart. Just gotta be quiet for me, okay? Don't wanna wake up Sammy."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding under the shirt you were wearing. His fingers were rough and calloused, and they left trails of fire on your skin. You gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed the sound.

"That's it," he murmured. "Good girl. Stay quiet for me."

He walked you backward toward the bed, and you didn't resist. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and you tumbled backward onto it, Dean following you down. He loomed over you, his body caging you in, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Look at you," he said, his voice rough. "Lying here in my shirt. My boxers. You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl. So fucking perfect."

He kissed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, trying not to make a sound that would wake Sam.

"De-" you whimpered.

"Shh." His hand slid up your thigh, pushing the boxers aside. "I know, sweetheart. I know. Just let me take care of you, okay? Let me make you feel good."

His fingers found your center, and you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. He chuckled darkly.

"So wet already. Just f’me. That's a good girl."

He worked you with his fingers, slow and deliberate, watching your face as you fell apart beneath him. Your hands fisted in the sheets, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You were trying so hard to be quiet, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

"Look at you," he said, his voice a low growl. "Trying so hard to be quiet. Trying so hard to be good. But we both know what you are, don't we?"

"Dean—"

"You're a dirty little thing." He pressed his thumb against your clit, and you jerked, a choked moan escaping your lips. "You're my dirty little thing, aren't you? My perfect, needy, desperate girl."

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Dean."

"Please what?"

"Please, I need-"

"Need what, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"I need you." The words came out broken, desperate. "Please, I need you inside me."

Dean's eyes darkened. "That's what I thought."

He pulled his hand away, and you whimpered at the loss. But then he was undoing his belt, his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself. He was hard, so hard, and you felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with fear.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice softening just a fraction. "I've got you. I'm gonna take care of you."

He positioned himself at your entrance, and then he was pushing inside you, slow and careful. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shh," he murmured. "I know, baby. I know. Just relax for me. You're doing so good."

He was big, stretching you in a way that felt almost overwhelming. But there was also something deeply satisfying about it, about the way he filled you completely, about the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel so good. So fucking tight. Like you were made for me."

He started to move, slow at first, then faster. His rhythm was punishing, each thrust driving you higher and higher. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, trying not to make a sound.

"That's it," he hissed. "Take it. Take all of it. You can handle it, can't you, sweetheart? You're such a good girl."

You nodded frantically, too far gone to form words. The pleasure was building, coiling in your belly like a spring. You were so close, so close-

"Come for me," Dean growled. "Come on, baby. I know you're close. Let go. Let me feel you."

And you did. Your body arched off the bed, a strangled cry escaping your lips. Dean's hand clapped over your mouth, muffling the sound.

"Shh," he whispered. "Shh, baby. I've got you. I've got you."

He followed moments later, pulling out at the last second and spilling across your stomach. The warmth was shocking, and you lay there, panting, unable to move.

"There," he said, his voice soft. "See? Didn't go inside. Aren't I such a gentleman?"

You couldn't even respond. You were too dazed, too fucked-out to form words.

Dean chuckled, pushing himself up. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom, cleaning you up with surprising gentleness. He fixed his boxers back on you, pulling them up your hips. He tugged the shirt down, covering you again.

"There," he said. "Good as new."

Then he scooped you up, carrying you to Sam's bed. He laid you down gently, and you immediately felt Sam stir beside you.

"What..." Sam mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Shh, Sammy," Dean said. "Just the kid. She needed a place to crash. Go back to sleep."

Sam's arm wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. He was warm and solid, and you instinctively curled into him.

"Love you." Sam murmured, already half-asleep.

"Love you too.." you whispered back.

Dean stood there for a moment, watching the two of you. His expression was dark and possessive, and there was a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Good night, babygirl," he said, his voice soft. "Sweet dreams."

He turned off the light, and you heard him settle into his own bed. But you could feel his eyes on you in the darkness, and you knew, with absolute certainty, that this wasn't over.

This was just the beginning.

The next morning, Sam woke up first.

He blinked, looking down at you, curled up against him like a kitten. "Hey," he said, his voice warm. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," you said, still half-asleep. "Fine."

Sam's arm tightened around you. "Good. I'm glad."

You looked over at Dean's bed, and found him already awake. He was watching you, that same dark smirk on his face.

"Morning, sweetheart." he said. "Sleep well?"

"You know I did." you said, your voice steady.

Dean's smirk widened. "Good. Real good."

Sam looked between the two of you, frowning. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's peachy." Dean said. "Aren't you feeling generous today, Sammy? Sharing your bed with our sweet little sister."

Sam flushed, his arm dropping from your waist. "It's not like that—"

"I know, Sammy. IIII knoooow." Dean's voice was dripping with false innocence. "You were just tired. Completely innocent."

You sat up, your cheeks burning. "I should, uh-"

"You should what?" Dean asked. "Get dressed?" He gestured to your outfit: his shirt, his boxers. "Oh, that's right. You don't have any clothes."

Sam looked at you, his frown deepening. "Why don't you have any clothes?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but Dean beat you to it.

"She left her bag in the car." he said, sounding entirely too cheerful. "I lent her some of mine. It's fine, Sammy. I don't mind."

Sam's expression was complicated. "Riiight... Of course. That's really... generous of you."

"I know." Dean flashed that smirk again. "I'm a generous guy."

[kittysarchive]

cnc, breeding kink, and stepbro!heeseung please 🤗🤗

okkkkkkk

"You like that slut? Being fucked by your step brother?" He smirked in your hear, drowning out your moans as his fingers closed around your neck.

His tall frame stood behind you, hips smacking into his as he cum seeped through your whole. Having came minutes earlier, he wasn't done.

"T-to much" You cried out. Heeseung didn't listen, you had told him days ago to use you.....and he took your word.

Ignoring your cries, your pussy squelched as your own tight pussy failed to keep his cum in. Hands gripping your throat harder, his hips slammed onto yours.

"I'm gonna fill you up so well, you'll be dripping" Heeseung nipped your ear, sending chills down your spine. Feeling his own cum flood through your tired pussy, you ignored how wrong this wrong, how wrong it was for him to fuck you.

Catching your breath, you felt his warm seed stick to you. This strange feeling did indeed, make you feel full....

"Such a slut, aren't you? You liked being filled up by me?" Heeseung laughed, slowly pulling out, not wanting his seed to drip out of your pussy. Nodding you r head at his degrading words, he laughed again.

"Don't think this will be the only time" He lands a harsh slap on your ass. You pussy clenched around nothing, eager for the future,

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ naive — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : your stepbro shows you what guys want.

contents : readers a bit of a bimbo, manipulative rafe, stepcest, use of 'good girl', fingering; kissing. wc 2.1k.

it started off as small touches. brushes across the arm when walking through the kitchen or taps on the shoulder when rafe wanted your attention.

but it gradually grew to more, like caresses on the head, whenever rafe thought you did something well. or a hand on your thigh when you’d both sit.

you’d brushed it off as rafe just showing affection to his stepsister, but you soon grew to realise that rafe never showed affection. least of all to his family. so the special touches and words of praise started to confuse you. so, much so that you confronted him one time.

“can i ask you something, rafe?” you were in the doorway to his room, tapping on the door to alert him of your presence.

rafe looked up from some clothes he was packing or unpacking (or something), nodding for you to continue.

“why are you so…nice to me?” you didn’t know how else to put it.

rafe straightens, letting his gaze wander your body as he assumably thinks. “why do you ask?”

“well,” you begin, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. “you seem to pay more attention to me then the rest of the family.”

rafe then walks closer, tilting your chin up between his fingers, as it had fallen to gaze at your socks. you meet his gaze, innocent eyes awaiting his answer.

rafe stared at you, his gaze dragging across your features slowly. “do you not like that?”

“well—“ you cut yourself off stepping slightly back sighing. “i don’t know. i just find it strange. that’s all.”

rafe nods to himself. “what do specifically find strange?” he asks.

you lick your lips, swaying your head in thought. “your compliments.” you decide on.

“when i compliment you?” rafe re-asks. you nod. “can’t i compliment my stepsister?”

“well…yes.” you pause, thinking to yourself that you may have overreacted. “i guess you can.” you straighten, brushing your hair behind you. “no worries, forget i said anything.” you smile, beginning to head to your room. “night, rafe.”

“sleep well, y/n.” rafe watches you leave, gaze wandering down your thin tank top and loose shorts.

;;

you were laughing with some guy you had met at a party, a kook friend’s house filled with booze and flashing lights.

“how does that even make sense?” you laugh.

the guys smile had widened as he watched you, shaking his head. “that’s what I want to know.”

rafe watched from afar, sipping a beer bottle. your outfit choice was showing a little more skin then you’d usually, capturing the attention of the kook beside you. the guy had managed his hand onto your thigh as you giggled at a joke he uttered.

rafe tilted his head. he knew you knew practically nothing about what this guy wanted from you. rafe knew that your naivety would get you in trouble.

you weren’t ready for boys like the kook slowly drawing closer. rafe didn’t want your first experience to be a tipsy one with a quick-fuck walk-away. he couldn’t let that happen to his stepsister.

so, he pushed off the wall nearing you. you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. looking up you spotted rafe. he tilted his head to the side, silently telling you talk to him.

you shift your gaze back to the guy, who had grown disappointed at the fact that you were clearly leaving. “sorry.” you spoke before standing up, pulling down your skirt.

rafe ushered you into the dark hallway, free from any drunk people. you halted, as rafe partly leaned against the wall, gazing down at you. “are you alright?” you ask sweetly.

rafe just bit the inside of his cheek as the moonlight streaked across your chest, your shirt tight enough that he could see your nipples peaking through. “you chose not to wear a bra?”

you look down, taking in your bra less state. “they were all in the wash.” you shrugged.

so naive—rafe thought to himself. “you should have asked to borrow one, from sarah or somgthing. it’s not good to walk around like that.” rafe hovered one thumb over your nipple, as he held your gaze.

your brows furrow. “is it not?”

rafe shakes his head. “no.” he says, licking his bottom lip. rafe shifts his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

you knew nothing about what the many boys on this island wanted to do to you. and rafe felt bad that you knew so little. his fingers had drifted to stroke your cheek a fraction. “this outfit too…is a little much.”

your brows again furrow, thinking the skirt and top was a nice combo. rafe catches your partially sad expression. “i’m only saying this because i want to take care of my stepsis.” rafe softly spoke.

rafe grabbed your chin again. “you know that right?”

rafe paused for a moment, just breathing. “let’s go home.”

you slightly frowned. “it’s okay. i’ll see you there later.”

but rafe shook his head. “i can’t leave you alone here.” and he doesn’t elaborate further, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the party.

;;

when you both got home, shutting the front door noiselessly, rafe’s thoughts had been running wild.

he hated the thought that if he wasn’t there that guy could have taken advantage of you. touched you when you weren’t ready to be.

he had paused on that thought though, as he walks behind you up the stairs. you’d need to know what to do in those situations at some point. those sexual situations, where you’d need to know what you liked and disliked.

you’d both reached the hallway when rafe grabbed your hand again, pulling you into his room.

rafe wanted your first time to be good and comfortable. and no better person than the one your the most comfortable with.

“rafe?” you questioned as he shut the door.

“shh.” rafe whispered, as he stepped closer to you.

you slightly shuffled back at how swift the action had been, your legs hitting against his bed. rafe was then pressing himself against you, brushing the hair away from your face. your pretty big eyes stared back, as he smiled.

“did you know what that guy was wanting from you?” rafe asked.

“um. he just wanted to give me a drink and talk. he had this funny story—“ rafe cuts you off chuckling.

“no, of course you didn’t.”

rafe began to slowly push you onto his bed, his body staying close. he found a position where his knees were either side of you, your head hitting the duvet. “what are you doing?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“i want to help you.” rafe answers, staring down at you.

“with what?”

“you want to be good at many things, don’t you?”

you scoff. “everyone wants to be good at many things.”

rafe smiles. “i want to help you be good at something.”

“something in your room?”

“something in my room.” rafe confirms, his breath hitting your face. “something that guy wanted to do.”

your brows furrowed. “what did he want to do?”

“can i show you?” rafe asked, to which you nodded, your curiosity getting the better of you.

rafe then leant down, his breath hitting your mouth. he grinned before wrapping his lips around your bottom lip. you gasped, not expecting this. rafe takes the opportunity of your open mouth to dive his tongue in, lapping at your own.

you had slowly began to kiss back, making rafe groan in approval. his hands now rested by your head, caging you in. for breath, and only for breath did Rafe break away. you’re panting. “w-what was that for?” you gulp.

“that was lesson one. you did very good.”

your thighs had begun to press together at his compliment. rafe immediately noticed, his chest picking up a pace.

but then you shake your head. “wait. but step-siblings don’t…kiss.”

“they don’t?” rafe asks, beginning to place kisses along your jaw.

“isn’t it…wrong?” your mouth has begun to open in pleasure as rafe sucked on your neck, his hand slipping to your hair, for a better grip, and to tilt your head how he wanted.

“i think it is.” you mutter, as your hand had lifted to grip his hair.

with your tight grip rafe moaned into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “no.” rafe leant back, grabbing the hem of your shirt and letting it rest up by your neck.

the cold air hit your already peaked nipples making your squirm. rafe dragged his thumb over nipple making your body shiver. he then began to massage your tit, his breathing stuttering. "this isn't wrong. does it feel wrong?"

your mouth stayed hung open as rafe pinched your nipple when you didn't respond. "it feels..." you drift off as rafe leans down.

he darts his tongue out to lick your nipple making your gasp. his finger circles the other as he looks up to meet your eyes. "good." rafe finishes for you. he then grabs your chin as your head had lolled to the side.

"this is what that guy wanted to do." rafe says, continuing to circle your nipple. "why you shouldn't walk around without a bra."

rafe leans down again, to lick and bite at your nipple. your back had begun to arch into him, a pressure forming between your legs. "you won't do that again, right?" rafe asks gently.

you partially nod, as pleasure runs through your veins. "good girl." rafe praises, making the heat between your legs much more prominant. "you're always good for me, aren't you?"

your bottom lip began to hurt with how hard you were biting it. "such a good little stepsis." he whispered, before sucking on your nipple.

"oh—god, i—" you try, some sense of you feeling shame. he was your stepbrother. step-siblings don't act like this. you begin to try and push away, to which rafe just grabs your hands in a tight lock, continuing to lick and kiss your tit. "you know what else he wanted to do?" rafe asked, leaning back to meet your gaze.

your cheeks are flushed. "i don't think I want to know." you whisper. "because we shouldn't..." you gulp. "we shouldn't be this close."

"my dad gets to choose a favourite, why can't i?" rafe asks, pushing your skirt up. rafe hums in approval at seeing the wet patch that had formed on your panties. you go to shut your legs, growing embarrassed, but rafe intercepts, spreading your legs wider.

"no, no. keep them wide for me." rafe says, looming over you again. his hand dipped down, two fingers beginning to rub your clothed pussy. your mouth opened in a mix of shock and pleasure. rafe leaned down to your ear, whispering. "this is what he wanted to do."

you gulped, the feeling spreading through your entire body. "b-but he can, he's allowed."

"is he?"

"well..." you begin as rafe bypasses your panties, spreading your wetness around, making a noise slip from your lips. "it's fine if he t-touched me like this." you gulp.

"so, just because i'm your stepbrother, you think that me touching you is wrong?" rafe asks, circling over your clit.

you shakily nod. rafe chuckles, inserting one finger. you clench your fists, your hands still stuck in rafe's hold. "but it feels...good. doesn't it?" rafe asked, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss.

he leans slightly back, just hovering. "doesn't it?" he had begun to pump his finger in and out of you. he bites your lip making you squirm as your chest heaves.

"i know it does." rafe says. a look of shame had covered your features, because it did feel nice.

rafe pecks your lips, catching your expression. "it’s okay. i'm just helping you. your older stepbro should teach you things, right?"

"yeah." he answers himself almost absentmindely, pushing a second finger in. your walls were clenched around him, pleasure now clouding majority of your shame.

rafe had quickened his pace, your whimpers filling his ears. "you have to tell me if you like this." rafe breathes. "in bed you have to tell them what you want—what you like."

"so, tell me," rafe began, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. "how does this feel?"

"good..." you mutter out, your brows pinched in pleasure. "so good...so good."

rafe grinned, running his thumb over your clit. "rafe. i’m gonna—"

rafe kisses you, hard, as he keeps the pace. when the pleasure hits, you're jolting beneath him, open mouth against his. "christ." you whisper as your high slowly dissapates.

rafe smiled against your lips, finally drawing his fingers out. “let me help you." he whispered partly to you and partly to himself. “let me help you learn.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[killadelphia]

my stepbrother is a really talented animator. he animated for some shows I have watched and loved ie: king of the hill, family guy, bob’s burgers, American dad, futurama, big mouth

but I just looked up his IMDb and he’s also done stuff I haven’t watched or even heard about: HouseBroken, Duncanville, Trolls: The Beat Goes On!, Pig Goat Banana Cricket, Dawn of the Croods, Clarence, Turbo Fast, Eloise in Hollywood, Me Eloise, and Catch of the Day 2: You Die at Dawn!

just curious if any of you have seen the ones I haven’t watched yet. I’ve been meaning to watch more bob’s burgers and American dad and big mouth, but had no idea he’s worked on so much. We are sort of estranged (me and him are ok but there’s some family drama unfortunately and he lives in California).

Any feedback would be cool.

[spearmintsmut]

My Own Mudblood 2

CW: stepbro! Draco, somnophilia, noncon/dubcon, innocence/corruption, Inappropriate use of Legilimency, implied smut

Draco’s words played over and over in your mind as you sat in your new bed. Was he threatening you or was it a challenge? You knew dinner would likely be served soon, but seeing him again before you had gathered your thoughts made you more anxious than you cared to admit. Instead, you lay your head down on the lavish pillow and slowly drifted off.

As dinner approached, Narcissa ordered Draco to fetch you to eat, which he begrudgingly obeyed. Storming up the stairs and pushing the door open without even a knock, he opened his mouth to order you down to eat, but stopped dead in his tracks. There you lay, showering in light from the setting sun streaming through the bay window. Your hair sprawled around your head like a halo and skirt bunched up at the top of your thighs. He wanted to wake you up with a rude remark, or leave you there without dinner but he couldn’t move. For a long moment, knowing no one would see his guard down, he took in your beauty - though he wouldn’t dare admit it to himself. He couldn’t help but to stare, wondering what you were dreaming about. Then his eyes trailed down your chest, softly rising and falling, to your naked thighs, and he felt a familiar throbbing against his tight dress pants. Without thinking, he stepped in, closing the door behind him and softly palming himself through his pants. He battled himself internally, trying to justify him touching himself to a mudblood, but his thoughts quickly fogged with pleasure.

Before he was able to talk himself out of it, he inched closer to you, groaning softly as he continued to palm himself. His eyes squeezed closed and he tried to slow his shaky breath, as to not wake you. He stood up against the edge of your bed and kept palming himself, letting himself het carried away, against his better judgement, but as he let out another quiet groan, you were suddenly pulled out of sleep. You let out a squeal, which came out as more of a tired squeak when you saw the tall boy standing beside your bed. He threw his hand over your mouth to quieten you, and you started to panic.

“Shhh. Don’t..Don’t yell.” he paused, trying to gather himself and pull his shirt over the bulge that had grown in his pants. “It’s dinner,” he continued, still breathing heavily. “Eat or don’t. I don’t care but it’s ready.”

You looked up at him dazed, his last words earlier coming back to you quickly. Remembering the way he warned you about your clothing, you became very aware of your skirt ridden up and pulled it back down to cover some of your thighs.

“I’ll, I’ll eat,” you stammered, wondering how long he had stood there before you woke up, and what,,,what was the noise that woke you? You tried to brush it off, sliding down the oversized bed away from him, and to your feet. He towered over you, and you couldn’t help feeling dwarfed by him. You could tell he was thinking about something as he stared at you, possibly holding something back, but his cool demeanour and stern face never gave anything away.

As you entered the large dining room of the manor, it took you a moment to take it all in. The table was large enough for 20 people, though it would only be the four of you eating. It felt strange, and rather lonely, after eating at a small table in your apartment with just your mother for so long. The house elf, who still had no name, floated large silver plates of food to the table, lit candles floating above it. Though it was all very beautiful, you still felt resentment toward your new “family” for their wealth, and for the values that Draco had made you all too aware of.

Narcissa urged you to sit, and to your disappointment, Draco sat directly across from you. You tapped your foot under the table, avoiding eye contact with him. As the four of you started to eat, Narcissa began trying to get to know you better than your father had told her about, only frustrating you more. You still didn’t trust that she had fully divorced her ideas of blood purity after the war, and entertaining the conversation now living with her made you all the more nervous.

“What do you know about the wizarding world, dear? Didn’t you ever get a letter from hogwarts?” she pressed. You balled your fists under the table, digging your nails into your palms as you thought of a calm answer.

“Well,” you breathed another shaky breath “Father had told me when I was young that I was special, when…things would happen without my meaning to, but my mother never allowed me to go to Hogwarts for her own reasons. I guess she was worried about me. I never really learned how to use my magic.” you finally looked up at her to gauge her reaction. Her mouth was pressed together into an awkward smile and you could tell what she was thinking is not what she would say. You felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the years and memories at Hogwarts you missed out on, and what your life would look like if you had been allowed to go.

“Father gave me some books when he decided to bring me..here,” you continued, “But I haven’t had a chance to read much of them yet.”

“Well dear, you certainly have missed out on quite a lot,” She replied after what felt like an eternity of silence. “Draco,” she started, looking over at him but he cut her off instantly.

“No. No don’t even try an-” he started..

“Son I don’t want to hear it,” She looked back at you, ignoring his look of protest. “I’ll have Draco start to tutor you. Try and get you…up to speed,” she said, without leaving any option to protest. Your Father, choosing this moment to finally acknowledge you, perked up.

“That sounds perfect! Be polite and thank them,” he pushed.

You gritted your teeth. Though you definitely could use the help, being tutored by the one person who seemed to hate you most felt like a trap. “Thank you Narcissa,” you said, half meaning it. She nodded toward her son beside her, and you finally looked up and him. His grey eyes pierced through yours and you felt like he was seeing straight through you.

“Th..Thank you, I guess,” you mumbled shyly. Though he angered you to near violence, you couldn’t help but feel meek, looking at him. He begrudgingly nodded, rolling his eyes, before they landed back on yours, holding for a moment longer than you expected.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” his velvet voice breaking the moment’s silence surprised you. Your mind raced, thinking about being taught, one on one by Draco Malfoy, and what that might involve. You knew he was a death eater in the recent past - and a very prolific one at that, and though it made you nervous, you weren’t scared. You were almost excited. You imagined him using his wand to cast spells you were yet to learn - his large, ring clad hand wrapping around his wand…then your own hand, or your throat. You caught yourself daydreaming and internally scolded yourself. What were you doing?

That’s Draco fucking Malfoy you yelled at yourself mentally. And he’s your goddamn step-brother! You shifted in your seat, both in embarrassment and arousal. You stole a quick glance up at him, and to your shock, for the first time since you had met him, he wasn’t brooding. His mouth was curled up on one side into an amused grin. You dropped your gaze back down to your plate. Could he know? You wondered. That’s ridiculous. How could he know?, you reasoned with yourself. You tried to focus on something; anything but the images your mind had flashed before you but you kept finding yourself back in those thoughts.

You had never slept with anyone, and for lack of better words, you knew you were quite inexperienced in that regard. Innocent even - But the thought of his long fingers in your mouth, or in your increasingly heating core made you squirm in your seat. The conversation your father and Narcissa were having sounded like a muffled blur in the background of your thoughts. You wondered what he would look like under his tailored black shirt - If he would have scars from the war, or if somehow, he had healed them away. Your cheeks burned at the thought, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your pleated skirt. Finally, dinner came to an end and you were able to excuse yourself. You rushed upstairs, still feeling an ache between your legs. You decided to unpack your trunk to distract yourself from the perverted thoughts. You pulled your clothes out one by one, putting them on hangers when you heard a low, raspy chuckle at the door. You swung around to find Draco leaning on the door frame with a smug look on his face.

“What?!” you snapped at him and he shook his head, still laughing

“You mudbloods make things so bloody difficult,” he chuckled before waving his wand casting a silent spell, and each item of clothing flew into the closet on hangers. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“I didn’t need your help, asshole,” you scowled, embarrassed more than you were angry.

“Fucking brat you are,” he stepped closer to you without wiping the smug look off his face. “I know you want my help. You need my help. You made that more than obvious at dinner,” he snickered. Though you didn’t want to believe he somehow read your mind earlier, the blood drained from your face and you stepped back.

“Don’t worry, mudblood - I’ll teach you about that too in our little lessons.” He was now inches from you, leaning down to your height, demeaningly. He smelled of peppermint and some sort of whiskey, and it was almost impossible to remain angry when you could feel his breath on your neck and his heady scent filled you. You did everything you could to fight the unwanted thoughts of your new step-brother from your mind, and though you didn’t want him to leave, you shoved his hard chest away tried to order him out. You pushed and pushed on his hard chest, but he didn’t move an inch. Your cheeks heated up, not wanting to give in to the thoughts creeping back at the touch.

“Poor weak thing. Use your manners and I’ll leave,” he cooed, condescendingly.

You gritted your teeth, not wanting to obey, but knowing it was the only way.

“Fine,” you huffed. “Please Draco, will you get out of my room,” you flashed a sarcastically sweet smile.

“Good girl,” he rumbled and walked out, leaving his intoxicating scent lingering in the room behind him.

[aiaithebrat]

wondering what you call self insert fanfics that arent fandom related but just talk about a fantast. id love an imaginary stepbro/afab insert fic on here that isnt tied to anything specific. i need to indulge x_x maybe i should just post about my personal experiences >:P

[weeblmaodotcom]

Stepbro? , Meme by Weeblmao.com

[swiggysky]

It's laundry day, stepbro.