ok so bc im a nasty pervert freak i added a hint of fauxcest i hope thats okay honey <333

OH honey i feel sooo faint. its one of those days where you’re just so exhausted and you just need to turn your brain off. you’re inching over to carmy nd sitting on the floor between his legs, pressing your cheek against his thigh. your eyes are all big and shiny and carmen knows exactly where your head’s at. “what’s up, peach?” his voice is just slightly hoarse— probably from yelling all day. his hand finds it’s way to your hair; you try to push impossibly closer against his palm. “dunno. jus’ been kind of a long day.”

“yeah? ‘m sorry, baby,” carmy all but coos at you, watches you fight back a whine when his fingers scratch at your scalp. “you need somethin’ from me?”

“can we, um… can we play for a little bit?”

you can hardly even look at him while you say it.

“play how? gotta tell me more than that, sweetheart.” he’s so mean— that’s what’s going through your head right then. “just— wanna stay like this. ‘nd you keep petting me and calling me nice names. and i don’t have to think.” carmy nods slowly like he’s really thinking about your words. “sounds like you want puppy treatment, doll.” the hand in your hair slips down to your cheek once he sees how you start to shrink in on yourself.

“‘s okay if that’s what you need, nothin’ to be shy over. just wanna hear you say it.”

“dad—”

“it’s alright, baby, say it. say ‘dad, i wanna be your puppy.”

you repeat the words with a whiny tone, and carmen accepts it— for now. “there we go, pup, wasn’t so hard,” he murmurs in that soft tone you’re weak for, thick thumb pressing down on your bottom lip and pushing its way onto your tongue.

⚠︎ — 18+. minors do not interact. fem!reader. tw fauxcest, age play, sexual frustration.

when bunny!reader gets in a mood, it’s hard to shake. the worst part? it’s difficult to get you to even admit that you have a sour feeling. mikey has done everything he can to get you out of this weird funk. he thinks maybe it’s time for you to spend some time with your uncle and cousin, because that usually cheers you up. the walk up to uncle richie’s door turns you into a clinging mess, your overnight bag settled in michael’s hand. “dad! please don’t go! dad, please.” richie is flicking an eyebrow up and offering mikey an inquisitive look. since when did you become a stage five clinger?

“c’mon, kid,” richie grabs you by the shoulder, ushering you into the house before popping out on the patio to ask mikey what’s going on.

“she’s so tense,” michael caresses his scruffy chin, eyes glancing between the door and his truck. he can hear you whining behind the thin walls. in a hushed tone, “been clinging to me for the past two days. i think she needs a break.”

when richie finishes up the conversation with mikey, he slowly enters the house to see bunny playing with kitten. not whining, not climbing all over kitten like she was doing to michael, but passively playing with dolls richie can’t remember the name of.

“hey, why don’t you two go play in kitty’s room? dad’s gotta make some calls,” richie says nonchalantly, but the truth is that he just doesn’t want to hear you and kitten squealing right now.

“not my dad,” you remind him.

“no, maybe not, but i’m your uncle. when dad isn’t here, who is in charge of you?” richie’s serious but his tone is lighthearted, regardless of the fact he’s expecting an answer.

“you,” you offer up, rolling your eyes. richie throws a pointed look, a subtle way of telling you to correct your face without verbalizing it. it’s not often you have an attitude with richie. maybe you can cop one with dad because you feel safe bratting out around him, but you’re usually on your best behavior for richie.

“hey. hey—" richie grabs your attention with a snap. “stay out here with me for a second. let me talk to you before you go play.” with careful steps, you walk toward the couch as kitten disappears down the hall. you’re in trouble, huh? hasn’t even been ten minutes. the look on richie’s expression is pure disappointment, and you’re suddenly aware he knows you’ve been causing mikey problems for the last forty eight hours. the expression stirs your stomach in that humiliating way that’s been happening at home. your panties are damp. again.

he finds himself next to you on the couch, softening his demeanor in a way that feels approachable. why’s his niece being such a brat? “tell your uncle what’s going on.”

you whine, throwing your back against the armrest, spreading your legs just enough to give richie a good look at the soaked gusset of your underwear under your dress. you don’t even realize you’re so wet that the cotton has embedded itself into your folds but you know you’re horny, and the words are just too hard to say. “nothing is wrong!”

“oh bunny… nothing to be embarrassed about. you want some help?” richie’s big hands rest on top of your knees, spreading your legs further to get a good look at your glistening cunt, nearly eating your cotton panties. if you get any wetter, they might disintegrate. “were you too nervous to tell dad what you needed?”

“uh huh,” you whine, bucking your hips up, trying to find any sort of friction.

“you’re so shy because you got a big ole crush on your daddy, hm?”

“can you help me, uncle richie? please?” you can’t take the teasing right now, you’re already too sensitive.

that’s all he needs to hear. your sweet tone, a gentle ‘please’ that sounds like your usual self, and your uncle folds immediately. he positions himself in between your legs, not bothering to strip your panties off, merely moving them to the side so he can get right to the point.

scruff tickles the inside of your thighs as your uncle gets to work, running his tongue along your slit and peppering rough kisses to your clit. the tip of his tongue is satisfying, your sexual frustration finally dissolving as he works you out. with shaking legs, you can’t help the throaty moans that escape from your mouth. he just feels so good down there— his fingers circling your clit, his tongue burying itself in your hole… you can’t even find it in you to warn him before you’re coating his tongue with your orgasm.

“okay, baby,” richie’s mouth shines from your arousal, using his tongue to lick up the residue of your cum from the corner of his mouth, “we can go again later if you need to, yeah?”

his fingers hook into your panties, pulling them off your hips and shimmying them down your legs before bunching them up and shoving them in his pocket. he’ll discard them later or rub one out on them. he hasn’t really decided yet. either way, they’re not hygienic enough to go back on your body. “let’s get you fresh panties on. these fuckers are ruined.”

“m’sorry, uncle richie,” you whine.

⚠︎ — 18+. fem!reader. reader is close to a meltdown (overstimulated by environment), oral (m receiving), slight dacryphilia

The lights are too bright, the noise is too chaotic, and the constant breach of your personal space is sending you into a downward spiral. Pots and pans echo, and fire from the burners makes you feel like you’re suffocating in your button up. Sweaty hands clench near your hips as you glance around the kitchen, and it takes Carmen all of one glance to realize you’re about to shrink to the floor. It’s too busy for a meltdown right now, so his only option is to intervene in the beginning stage of your escalating crisis.

“C’mon,” he’s ushering you into the small office, the click of the door behind you acting as a signal that you can drop to your knees. Everything feels like too much— the walls are closing in, papers skewed across the desk makes the space look cluttered, and the glistening sweat building on your brow bone makes you feel sticky. It’s a sensory nightmare. Carm reaches for his belt, dropping his pants in a fast manner. He’s gotta get you situated quickly if he wants to get back on the floor soon. The orders just keep coming in, and Tina is going to start yelling if he doesn’t come out soon. “Here, sweetheart, here.”

Carm discovered that putting something in your mouth calms you down by accident. In the middle of blubbering over a rude customer, he picked a piece of ice out of his drink cup and popped it in your mouth to regulate you. Ice turned to fingers, fingers turned to his cock… It was never supposed to get that far, but here you were, in your knees waiting for Carm’s cock to act as a soothing pacifier. Rumors of what you two get into circulate the restaurant, but the two of you have never confirmed this dynamic. He knows how you feel about this. The shame of it all. And he knows he shouldn’t be indulging you like this.

He rubs the soft tip against your lips, his soft cock acting as a comforting object turning moments of overstimulation. With an open jaw, you take Carmy into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his shaft like his cock is a popsicle. Having a popsicle would probably be more appropriate in the workplace, but Carmen knows this tactic is reliable. It works, and why fix what’s not broken? “Look at me.”

You peer up at him through wet lashes, the tears pooling at your waterline as you try to focus on Carmen inside of your mouth. It’s pitiful the way you look, teary and a mouth full of his dick. Your wet eyes are his kryptonite. Fuck, he’d love to see the full blown meltdown, to rub one out to the thought of it later, but he has a business to run, and he doesn’t want everyone else to see you lose control like that. That’s for his eyes only. The feel of your wet mouth stimulates his nerves, his shaft hardening against your tongue, and your breathing begins to slow as his cock grows in your mouth. With your nose nearly pressed into his pubes, you back up on the growing length and focus on holding the first two inches against your tongue.