Untitled

the alcoholism to finding god pipeline was not exactly uncommon. it's happened a million times before and it happened to him. Leon S Kennedy. the same Leon who has open tabs in every alcohol serving place across the globe. in a way, it makes him feel whole. a semblance of a calm and picket fence like life that he'd dream up back before the whole thing in raccoon. and whatever he got dragged into after.

shit, he tried everything really. sleeping around with anyone who looks for a good face value fuck (he wasn't really the most silver tongued...at least when it came to words). getting hitched to some girl who sorta resembled a trauma bonded situationship he never fully got over.

hell he even had a kid! a whole daughter for fucks' sake. but nothing fucking worked. nothing at all. until he lost himself in the bottle. god that worked like a charm. the routine of sharp burns down his throat, the haze that took all the edge off, and the part where he forgets. brain and liver going through simultaneous cirrhosis.

but much like the shit that was his life, it's gotta flush out somehow. blocking out these...thoughts and memories made the anger stretch and taut the way a rubber band would. stretching and stretching each time his wife picked a fight about him missing appointments, missing milestones in his daughter's life, and just being missing most of the goddamn time. and then in a particularly escalated screaming match, he had slapped her.

the sharp sting in his palm feeling like a pail of ice had been poured down the back of his dso assigned t-shirt, fresh after a mission. the guilt made his own hazy unfocused eyes water and the sight of his young daughter by the door just standing there, watching with fat droplets of tears running down her cheeks, increased it tenfold.

so he stopped. went cold turkey and stopped even looking at those bottles. hell, he even threw away his favourite hip flask. and then he enrolled in a religious alcohol group therapy. not by choice. some pal of his told him that the group helped. he wasn't the biggest fan of god and his works. he's seen em all, really and they were anything but fluffy pink unicorns shitting rainbows out of their asses. it was...hell. not that he believed in that either.

but something about being around people again. the feeling of togetherness without anybody knowing the weight of the blood and lives he dredged around with him in every step. no judgement, no pity, nothing. he remembered his first day, stepping into church after last having stared into the cold pale stone eyes of christ just hanging in front of everyone and getting a nightmare when he was 10. he had thought to himself, has it really been 20 years?

he took a seat on one of the chairs in the circle. it was the cushioned kind. the ones that made the aches from one too many falls lighten just a little. he flicked his hair out of his eyes. a habit from making sure dust and whatever weird gunk didn't blind him on missions. he was too early. he felt a prickle of self consciousness. he looked too eager and damn it if it's not the most sissy thing to do.

and then the people started streaming in, all bright smiles with light in their eyes — he had to be in the wrong fucking meeting. he was supposed to attend alcoholics' recovery not some supposedly enlightening bible study group. but against the discomfort that began to settle in the lower pits of his stomach, he stayed.

fast forward to now and it has been 10 years. who knew Leon S Kennedy had it in him to attend church alcoholics' recovery and Sunday masses and even prayed on a regular basis now? it sure as hell wasn't him. sure nightmares still kept him up and the urge to just down a whole bottle and complete the process of cirrhosis to give a merciful death to his liver never weakened, but he was a better man now. the church says good men have to be righteous. avoid sin. ask god to forgive and have mercy on their souls. in due time, things would ease up. now Leon knew these words were just words of empty hope. none of it was true. he used to repeat that with conviction in his heart.

until he didn't.

maybe it was the way the leader spoke with unwavering conviction or the way it was more of a sermon instead of an anonymous confession or the words that all seemed to blur into a comforting haze of light after a while. he felt lighter. life had meaning again he'd begin to say, a smile on his lips as he chugged the rest of the cooler water that everyone was given a cup off. each time he goes to the church, all of his desires began to melt away. he was at peace. so much so that he began going to church as soon as he was off missions, sharing cups of cooler water with his peers and the leader who seemed to know just what to say to soothe the troubles in his mind. he never wanted to leave. and sometimes, be didn't.

except, his stupid ex-wife started calling again. saying how he was starting to be late on child support. that she couldn't manage to fund you all on her own with her current earnings. that college was becoming too expensive and that the least he could do was house you for abit to make up for lost time and so that you wouldn't be too lonely at home. at least until she sorted things out with her company and the 6 month long overseas exchange that would guarantee her salary increment.

god gives his most arduous trials to his best of men. Leon just mumbled out a quick sure and ended it. her babbling was going to make him late for church. he had to hand the suitcase full of cash to the leader as a sincere donation so that he can stay for all of their sermons and eventual programme to become one of the higher ranking members.

truth be told, for a second there, he damn near forgot he even had a daughter. church had become his entire life. his purpose. his...people. blood ties weren't enough to keep him going. only church was enough. he ignored the multiple other texts from work asking him where he was. they could find someone else to deal with humanity's work. he was a man of god now, blessed with the opportunity to spread the word of truth. to be back as they were in the olden days. where everything was perfect. where everybody had roles and purposes.

so he gritted his teeth and bared a grimace like smile when you came.

"hey kid. long time no see, huh?"

he says, hands in the pocket of his worn denim jeans. you were practically a stranger. more height than he remembered. when you met his gaze with those really really blank ones, he felt himself a little unnerved. it brought up an image of you crying when he first slapped his ex-wife. how long has it really been? well doesn't really matter. you were no longer a little girl anyway.

it was a long pause. a very awkward one. he shifted a little from one foot to the other as your eyes studied him. it has been a long time. his hair was a little longer, face a little scruffier, but that was your old man alright. the very same eyes you sometimes have nightmares about. the gunmetal blue, cold and filled with a bottomless rage. and you were...taller. softer in places and your hair's...different. he found himself feeling like he was looking at a stranger, unaware that both of you were frowning just like the other.

you were one of many regrets he had. but after church and his enlightenment, his only regret was not being able to put you in church school. maybe then you wouldn't be standing around as soon as you arrive and actually get to doing something around his house. women's roles were in the house. caretakers. while he went out to spread god's word. he stepped aside to let you walk inside, not missing the way your reaction to a dusty seemingly long unused house was a mere flicker of disdain that flitted as soon as it appeared.

"you can take the guest room. settle everything down and get ready. we're going to church."

he says, adjusting the cuffs of his button up as he sat on the couch. he tapped his loafered foot impatienly against the tiles, eyes constantly glancing at the time. 20 minutes passed and he was growing restless. his hair was beginning to fall all wrong from the amount of times he's ran his fingers through them. what was taking you so fucking long anyway? did you not understand the importance of church? how dare you a pathetic girl make god wait? make the leader wait on his important sincere donation? you were gonna regret it when he finally stands up and — the door of the guest room creaked open.

"i'm not going to church, dad. i'm still tired from the trip."

he found his jaw twitching at your brazen nature. walking around as if making the leader wait wasn't going to backfire in his face. but god says patience is virtue so he won't give you shit for it. he was a merciful man after all.

"you better not be saying that just to skip out on church, young lady."

he says with restrained annoyance, jaw tightening as he grabbed his briefcase and headed out. you don't remember dad being religious. but then again, you barely knew the man. most of your childhood was buried under lock and key in the back of your mind. but being around him made you uneasy. even more so now. but this was a temporary arrangement. maybe you should see to doing something more relaxing like giving yourself a breather since it was the summer holidays. maybe just rot away in this room until it was time to leave again.

he came home from church late into the night. gunmetal blue eyes hardening as he watched you eat late night cereal at the kitchen table. you looked up mid chew, meeting his gaze. he tched and walk away. you swore he mumbled something like lazy under his breath. your appetite began to fizzle. what was this man's deal anyway?

he was barely home and honestly the only complaint you had was the lack of any food around. so you decided to take matters into your own hand and headed out to get some. like a good responsible grown adult would. and when you got home he was sitting at the table, eyes narrowed as he scanned you up and down.

"where were you?"

it sounded so accusatory. as if he already had a preconceived notion of where you went. maybe it really didn't help that you went to the store in your usual ripped jeans and tanktop.

"i went to the store, dad. helping you restock the-"

he scoffed, leaning back in his chair and flicking his hair out of his eyes as he crossed his arms.

"dressed like that? like a slut? is this how your mom raised you?"

your grip on the grocery paperbag nearly loosened entirely. you found yourself staring at him with parted lips. a slut? seriously?

"i really should have taken custody of you and put you in church school. that way you wouldn't have grown up to be such a whore."

his words were dripping with venom as his eyes hardened even more.

"from now on until the day you leave, you're not allowed to leave this house. and you will pull your weight by performing your role as a grown woman."

you felt your skin prickle at his words. the way he said it. it all sounded so brazenly prejudiced...like he was reciting it straight off a conservative cultish script embedded in his mind. now you knew he was no saint. an ex alcoholic, an absent father, and the occasional wife beating on special occasions. but a misogynistic bastard? now that...that was something too new.

"you can't just lock me up like- like some hostage! i'm gonna be here for half a year!"

the speed at which he stood up with his hands raised just shy of your cheek made you sputter to a stop, flinching instantly. your eyes held a fear he recognised from that very night he had backhanded your mom. in hindsight, that woman deserved it. she forgot her place when talking to her husband. him. the breadwinner who worked tirelessly day after day to play his role as man of the house. the least she could have done after that was offer him a drink for being such a stupid useless bitch.

"stop backtalking me you ungrateful-"

you swore you heard his teeth crack from how hard he was clenching his teeth. his eyes were hollow and filled with such an intense rage that it made you cower away. oh he knew what a sheltered girl you were how your mom was a doting parent who cared about your wellbeing. so much so that she made you stay with him instead of living in a house all by yourself. no wonder you turned out this way. spoiled, ungrateful, and unreligious. a woman with no piety is no woman at all. that's what the leader had said.

and that was one week ago. you had been holed up in the house, the dim lighting and his constant disappearances to either work or the church was beginning to eat at your brain. him being at home wasn't much better. you had to cook for him, clean for him, iron his church clothes, and shine his shoes. in return all he did was criticise you. the food too salty, the shoes not shiny enough, the house still dusty, everything was never right.

you were beginning to see yourself from outside your body, throwing yourself into one task after another. his constant bullying was eroding your mind. and the fact that you weren't allowed to open the curtains, or watch tv in the living room, or had anybody to talk to really didn't help. and then you landed upon a gold mine. the lower left cupboard in his toilet that stored untouched bottles of liquour. just sitting and waiting. a trap of temptation he had been keeping in his house for god knew what.

as you sat on the toilet just holding the cold bottle, staring at it. you found yourself feeling an eerie sense of connection with your distant almost estranged father. you wondered how many nights he spent all by himself seated in the exact same way you were. just looking at the cold bottle of liquid sin in his hands.

you did what he stopped. broke that last barrier of restraint and spiralled down the way he just climbed up from. you uncorked the bottle and tipped it back, letting the liquid slosh down your throat and dribble down your chin. it burned. it burned so bad. you coughed and sputtered, eyes growing teary. it tasted like an internal chemical burn. a bitter tang that stung the insides of your throat. but the haze that settled over your mind after. the lightness that seemed to anchor your soul back into your body even for just a minute. you were instantly hooked.

like father, like daughter.

it was no wonder that old sod was hooked to this thing. it was liquid gold! i mean for the small price of a bad headache and the worst case of dry mouth the next day, you could just...melt into nothing. the world spins and you're in the middle just watching as everything blurs together into one meaningless nothing.

before you knew it, a week had passed with you passing out evrryday to make time go by quicker. the whiskey bottle was down to it's last dredges and you were laying on the cool tiled floors of the toilet again. shivering from the contrast of it against your liquor warmed skin. your eyes fluttered close and open and close and —

the loud sound of the front door slamming shut had you jolted to a sitting position. you'd recognise the dull thuds of his footsteps anywhere. except they were louder and way angrier than you had ever heard it. and then you stood on swaying legs, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. glassy red eyes, jaw slack with a little bit of drool and hair flat on the side where you had laid on the ground. your heart was beating so fast you could almost feel it on your tongue as panic washed over you. shit. shit.

you splashed cold water onto your face, rubbing it firmly to bring back a sense of sobriety. you swished the water aggressively in your mouth, narrowly avoiding choking on it. your drunken mind too panicked to realise that the smell of it was too deeply marinated in every crevice of your teeth and tongue.

your hands trembled as you plopped to the ground unceremoniously, grasping at the bottle to cap it and hide it back in the cupboard. your shaky fingers loosened and the cap was sent flying near the tub. fuck. he was going to hit you. you just knew it. just like he did mom. and like he does in your nightmares that leave you in cold sweat. please god, if you're real. please please please let him go to bed and never find out — clang

the clatter of the rhick glass bottle tipping over onto the ceramic tiles sent shockwaves of deafening echoes that made your ears ring in your tunnel visioned panic. you heard his footsteps freeze before they stormed towards where you were. you felt your breath hitch as you hurriedly pressed the bottle against your back and leaned against the side of the tub. as if it would just dissolve into your skin and never be found. the doorknob rattled as he pounded on the door.

"what the hell are you doing in there, kid?"

then as you stayed quiet like a rabbit frozen in fear, it became more insistent. more agitated.

"answer me or i'll break this damned door!"

you finally found your voice in a small squeak that escaped your throat.

"j-just a stomach ache dad! i-i'll be out in a bit i promise!"

the banging stopped and it was so silent you could hear your heartbeat reverberate against the smooth white of the tub behind you. it was bullshit and if drunk you could smell it, so could your retired military agent dad.

"you lying bitch. do you think i'm stupid?"

you could practically hear the snarl in his voice and after a beat, hr said something. something that you should have listened to. something that to this day you wondered if it would have changed anything has you heeded his words.

"open this fucking door now or you're gonna regret it."

he yelled. and then it was quiet. so quiet. and then he kicked the door so loud you heard the hinges creak.

"oh you're going to be fucking sorry, kid."

he said in an eerily calm voice and then his footsteps faded as he yelled a loud 'fuck'. followed by the clatter of something being kicked to the ground. you pinched yourself. so hard you felt the sting shoot down your spine. this had to be a nightmare. you had to wake up. you had to get out.

before your panic and alcohol scrambled brain could figure out the next course of action the footsteps returned and in a blink of an eye the door was sent splintering to the floor, revealing a man with crazed bloodshot eyes and a heaving chest beneath his sweat stained button up. his sharp features that brought you praise for winning genetically was now shadowed by his overgrown hair. he held a bag of clinking bottles in one hand. bottles of...liquor.

one look at you and he knew. he could recognise that dazed look anywhere even beneath the thickest layers of fear. and that smell. the sharp sweet and sour of an impending drymouth after drinking alot. for a moment the humid silence in the bathroom was filled with nothing but heavy breaths. father and daughter looking at each other. two mirrors reflecting the very demons they feared.

"you disgust me."

his low raspy voice was pointed as he stepped closer, larger hands yanking your hair just shy of smacking the back against the edge of the tub. sounding like he was talking to the him that was trapped like a wet dog. one that was clinging onto the bottle like a solace teddy a child would have in their bed.

"you think you can lie to me? and commit this disgusting sin without me ever finding out, huh?!"

he grabbed one of the bottles from the plastic bag, unscrewing the lid with the same hand.

"now drink. drink as much. as. you. fucking. want."

he says through gritted teeth, squeezing your jaw open as he poured the liquid down your throat. your yelp turned into spluttering gasps as the liquid went everywhere. some even up your nose and stinging at your eyes. your fingers desperately push at him. wherever you could land on but he stood firm. years of training and muscle despite the recent years of slack and armed with a rage so deep held him rock steady.

one whole entire bottle. your vision began to fuzz as you choked and cough. your head was spinning, barely registering anything at all besides the blue of his eyes that seemed to float before you.

"da...ddy...cough...m'sorry...m'so sorry..."

you sputtered pathetically between coughs as your throat tried to scramble back to normalcy. and for a moment he saw the same you. the reason behind his journey to seek god. his heart clenched as you blinked up at him with red teary eyes and snot dribbling down to your upper lip.

and then he sees you. the current you. the one that had costed him his place in church. next to the leader. next to god's best man.

his mind replayed the events from earlier today. how the sermon moved him as always. talks of how women were made for men and how everyone has their place in front of god. how addiction was sin. how god forgives. and then again on how women are nurturing creatures with big hearts and that they should realise their place is at home. especially not with a bottle because it was way worse to be an alcoholic mother than to be a deadbeat alcoholic father.

the old Leon would have thought this to be crazy. that the words were nothing more than prejudiced nonsense lumped together and stamped with a label of 'from god.' but the Leon now? the one who craves the cooler water gatherings and a feeling of belonging and to do nothing more than pour his entire wages as means of baring his soul and sincerity before the leader, he was nodding almost feverishly. because if god said so. if the leader, said so. it has to be true. truer than anything and everything that has ever been true.

if it weren't, his ex-wife wouldn't have left. his life wouldn't have been so dark and awful and devoid of the enlightening he had now. his legs bounced almost impatiently as he thought about the cooler water and standing next to the leader. how the leader always knew what to say to make everything better. how cool and refreshing the water was. the slight bitter tang to it that seemed to haunt his every waking moment.

he had rushed to the leader's side as soon as everything was over, holding his briefcase full of donation cash with a smile equivalent of a dog with its tongue our. waiting to be petted for a job well done.

"ah, brother kennedy. this must be this month's donation to the cause."

the leader spoke. his beady eyes turning into slits as he grinned with his perfect white teeth. he was a broad man with thinning hair and a shorter stature than Leon. but his presence, it made it so clear why god had chosen him to lead. Leon's fingers tightened on the handle of the suitcase. waiting for the leader's blessing words and for the briefcase to be taken. freeing him from worldly sin and cleansing his soul with the money given. but his hopes were kept afloat in the oddly tense air.

"i heard from the churchgoers that your daughter is back in town. is that true?"

his words sent a chill down his spine. well, not really the words but rather how...it was said. as if he had done something wrong and the leader was baiting him into a confession. Leon swallowed his nerves.

"yes, leader. she's staying over for a while. is there something wrong?"

please say no. please say no. please —

"why have we not seen our new sister here?"

the leader asks in a way that sounded annoyed. impatient. Leon blinked.

"she's been taking care of the house."

she's not religious. she wouldn't get what we have here. too stupid and corrupted by modern day ideations to grasp true enlightenment. the leader smiles. a smile that felt hollow.

"our brothers and sisters here have seen her in clothing that was...inappropriate for brethren of the church."

Leon missed the way the leader's eyes glinted as he spoke. as if he knew more than he let on. and wanted more than he let on. the leader shifted where he stood, adjusting the crotch of his slacks.

"bring her here, will you? i'm sure spreading god's grace is in your best interest unless...of course...you don't think so. and that you want to return to the dark life you lead and turn that disgusting glass bottle into your place of belief?"

Leon felt his heart sink to his bowels. maybe even fall straight out of his ass onto the cold church floor from the way he froze. one of the other churchgoers was about to hand Leon a cup of the cooler water when the leader stopped him by simply holding up his stubby hand.

"no need, brother. brother Kennedy here will not be joining us for our social gathering."

the churchgoer bowed and scurried off like a rat caught in the daytime. Leon felt his heart pound in his chest. a sense of hurt and isolation that ate and prickled at his skin. he had fucked up. big time. and the leader was angry. god help him.

"i'll bring her over as soon as i can, leader. please...you don't have to do this-"

the leader's smile vanished and he stepped closer.

"you will bring her tomorrow."

he declared with a finality in his voice. Leon nodded fervently, desperate for his approval. for his forgiveness. the leader turned away and began to walk off. he paused and turned to face Leon with a barely stifled smirk.

"oh and kennedy? don't bother coming if she's not with you."

don't bother coming...fuck. fuck. what was that supposed to mean? after everything he's done for the church? all the money he's given? all the times he helped stand in front of the leader's door to guard it and make sure the incident of a church sister running out crying wold for help and rejecting the leader's blessing ever happened again. all of it was for nothing. his blood ran cold. even colder at the thought of never socialising with the others again. never tasting that bitter tang of the cooler water that always seemed to make his nightmares go away when he slept.

he was distraught.

he came home slamming the front door behind him. he ran his fingers through his hair, flicking it out of his eyes as he panted. cold swsat began to soak through the front and back of his shirt as the reality of it began to sink in. no more god. no more church. no more leader. no more cooler water. oh no. no no no. this cannot be happening. not when he had been doing so good.

he marched straight to his room without another word, shoes and coat flung haphazardly for you to clean up after. his throat felt dry and for the first time in a while, the urge to drink was no longer a lingering temptation at the back of his mind. his whole brain was set off like an alarm bell telling him to just give in. get a bottle and drink himself stupid. and then he heard it. the familiar clang of a glass bottle against the toilet floor. one he had heard years back when he was drinking himself to death in the very same place after a mission went sideways. and then he remembered you. and everything fell into place.

you bitch. you were drinking, weren't you?

and now he stared into the face of his key to the church. the key to his redemption and acceptance back by the leader. a face so pathetic and sticky with tears and drying cheap alcohol. god he was so made he wanted to just bash your fucking head into the side of the tub. stupid fucking bitch. stupid like your mother. how dare you sit here like a bum, drinking and sinning while he was out there fighting to be enlightened? to be a man of god? he found his fingers curling around the column of your throat, hissing as your nails dug into the skin of his scarred hands as you tried to breathe. the stench of liquour and your existence covered everything in a red haze.

you are out of control. a wild thing that needs to be disciplined before you could join as brethren of the church. and who else better to discipline you than your own enlightened churchgoing father?

"you shouldn't be apologising to me. you should be apologising to god. start praying or i'll make you regret each drop of that damned thing you so stupidly poured down your fucking throat."

he spat, hauling you up and bending you over the side of the tub. the cold hard edge dug into the flesh of your stomach, making the nausea worse. and prayed you did, hands clasped together with your voice trembling and barely coherent. slurring out prayers for for forgiveness. your tears and drool dripped and splattered in unsynchronised rhythms into the inner surface of the tub, your auditory field tunneled so much to the point of missing the metal clink of a buckle being undone.

"i'm sorry god. please i'm so sorry. i swear i'll never drink again. i- ack-!"

your voice splintered into a choked gasp as a sharp sting hit the curve of your ass. you unclasped your hands instinctively trying to defend your sore skin when your hair was yanked back firmly.

"did i say you could stop?"

he whispered, breath hot against your ears. you hurriedly scrambled to keep praying, jolting each time the leather hit. you could barely breathe. breaths coming in short gasps as the pain and dizziness and crying began to overwhelm you. your vision began to darken around the edges.

and then it stopped. not your prayers but the beatings. your heart was pounding so hard you thought you were going to die. hiccupping and gasping for breath as you tried to pray through it all. your desperate and hoarse voice mixed with his panting were the only sounds in that bathroom. the silence made you tremble even more, clasping your hands tighter as you prayed feverishly like a woman possessed.

Leon stared at you. his drunk beat up daughter who's skin was beginning to welt. he was panting, calloused fingers raised to trace the ones visible and gliding over the ones beneath your clothes. the power of beating you into submission. cleansing you of sin. it was...a high. one comparable to drinking or feeling that cooler water slide down his throat and left his brain at peace. as if he was walking on clouds. your curves wiggled and swayed as you prayed desperately. begging for salvation. begging for god to save you from the monster he had become.

but god had enlightened him. and that gave him every right to fix you. make you ready for the leader to bless. his jaw ticked and his finger trembled. a withdrawal of some kind. this was what being away from church did to him. he needed to be called brother kennedy again. needed the approval from the leader. he needed whatever was in that cooler water.

he needed...you.

so he finds himself lifting you, bending you in half as your body clipped the side of the tub's edge. he bunched up the hem of your dress. an old one your mom had given you. one that she had worn before. your marred skin was soft beneath his touch, you whimpered and squirmed. you really did take after your mother. maybe you could be a fillial daughter and play the role of wife too. it's the least you could do to atone for everything you've done.

the rough fabric of his slacks against your bare ass, stung. you could feel the stiffness of his cock as he rubbed it awkwardly against your panties. your legs were split like a foal learning to walk for the first time.

"do you feel that, kid? feel what sin does to an enlightened man like your dad?"

you were too tired to care. too focused on taking your next breath without feeling like a million nerves were combusting beneath your skin. he held you down, edge of the tub digging much deeper, you could've sworn it made your ribcage creak.

"promise...i won't tell anyone...please dad...just stop..."

you slurred weakly (or at least you thought you did because all Leon heard was a bunch of groans and the word dad) eyelashes fluttering as your face smushed into the cold tub floor. bent in half as you were trying to breathe was the worst experience you ever had. you tried to push yourself up. to push against him and stumble free. but even as your knuckles whitened with effort, he was too strong. his palms pressed your head into the ceramic as his other tugged at his slacks. all you did was keep pressing the tub's edge harder against

"don't worry. i'll make sure you're ready for church, hm? perfect vessel to receive the leader's blessings. you'll learn to thank me."

he muttered under his breath as he struggled to shimmy down his boxers.

"huh would you look at that? you pissed yourself, kid."

the tub's edge had been pressing against your womb from the way he was holding you down with his sweat soaked front on your back, squishing it so firmly you were sure it would go concave. the numbing cold and firmness made your pussy drip. it was pressing on everything tender. your liquour filled bladder had surrendered to fear in your fevered repenting, a pool of warm acrid smelling liquid seeping into the soles of your feet. he laughed humourlessly at his deadpan, pressing his fingers into your sopping wet hole.

he tugged your soaked panties down, stroking the soft of your bruised cheeks before kneading them. fingers squeezing and pushing at the welts. the painful numbness made you groan. he began spreading it, spitting on his fingers before he harshly prodded at your slick hole.

"well makes this easier for the both of us, hm?"

he gave his cock a few strokes, eyebrows knitted as he rubbed the underside against the ridge of your ass. the warmth and slickness of your piss was making his head spin, soft schlick schlick sounds filling the humid bathroom. your head was beginning to hurt from being pushed down into the tub, hair pricking at your eyes. you let out more groans and whimpers. sounding even more urgent despite battling your consciousness.

"you lost the fight against the devil's evil temptations. but dad'll fix this. if he can fix his life, he can fix this. make you pure again so god will love you- mmf-"

he groaned as his leaky tip began to push into you. you barely put up a fight, just crying against the pool of your own tears that had gathered beneath your cheeks. he was going to fix you. fix this. fix everything like he had fixed his life up to this point. he gritted his teeth as he sank in deeper, the cool of your sweat glistened back against the buttoned front of his shirt. the plastic buttons dug into your skin, tugging it as he pushed in deeper. you had never felt so full and numbed at the same time.

he yanked your head up, licking the tears from your cheeks as he plowed into your piss slick hole. the wet thwapping noises seemed to make everything in your brain go blank. your body was sore, broken, and sensitive.

he grunted against your ear, stubble reddening your skin. he was breathing shakily as he buried himself deep. his dirty little girl needed his guidance. his help. his...blessing. it made his cock twitch at the thought of purifying the source of lust within you. your bare womb. filling it up to keep you from sinning again. fulfilling your purpose as a woman placed on earth by god. making you a sweet docile mommy wwith nurturing tendencies. just like god intended.

"you feel that, kid? your womb is begging to be filled. beging to fulfill god's written purpose for you."

he says as he yanked your head up with one hand while the other splsyed across your lower tummy. pushing you back onto his twitching dick in a relentless rhythm. you let out a pained grunt, hands scrambling to hold onto something for balance as he began to thrust faster.

his balls slapped against your sore ass with each thrust and all you could remember was slipping into a deep dark haze. your ears rung and everything around you faded. Leon tried tapping your face as your head hung limply from the hair clenched in his fingers but to no avail. he licked a stripe down the side of your neck and buried his teeth between your neck and shoulder as he came with a loud groan. his warm cum shot deep into you, swirling with your piss as he held you against his cock. he let go once he was done, watching as you fell to the ground and splashing up the piss from the puddle as you landed.

well...repenting was a messy business but now you were perfect. his perfect, church ready daughter. he ran his fingers through his hair to push back the strands stuck to his forehead from his sweat as a grin tugged at his lips. the front of his shirt was soaked in both your sweat and his heart was racing in his chest. you were ready.

—

"and leader, meet my daughter. she looks forward to receivinh your blessing. i made sure to prepare her myself."

his arm around your waist a tinge too tight, eyes eager for approval of a job well done. he searched the leader's beady eyes, watching as he studied you like fresh meat. the leader shifted his pants a little and licked his lips before acknowledging Leon again. barely.

"welcome back, brother kennedy."

the leader says, eyes glinting. Leon felt a wave of relief hit him full force, fingers trembling as he took the cup of cooler water from one of the brothers and chugged it down like a man parched in the desert seeing an oasis for the first time.

in his car, his phone dinged with a notification. one from the ame friend who recommended the alcoholic group therapy from all those years ago. a frantic jumble of words followed by a clipping of a document with the leader's face on it.

Toji was a good man and he loved your mother with all of his heart. So when she was taken from him, the loss affected him harder than anyone else. He struggled constantly to cope without turning to some new destructive habit. He’d be gone from home for days at a time, spend all the money on gambling, and at times you’d even find stains of blood on his clothes when you would do laundry.

Your mother loved him, he’s not your real dad but he’s all you know and now all you have. Megumi left the house and his eldest girl tsumiki has yet to wake from her coma.

Nights he went to the bar were nights he made you most uncomfortable.

You remember the first night he touched you..he reeked of cheap sake. He called you by your mother's name

Before you felt his hands wrap around your waist from behind and felt the firm press of his groin to your behind. He traced kisses up your neck saying how plump your ass is and how much better it was compared to your moms

You were frozen in place but you fought through the fear and murmured “Daddy…daddy pleases stop you’re making me uncomfortable”

And just like that it seemed he came to his senses. He removed his hands from you and stepped back silently.

“Goodnight” is all he said before he scurried off somewhere that night.

You try to recall how you got to the point you’re at now with your step-father.

He started off small, walking around the house in sweatpants, his dickprint very much visible and very much erect.

You tried your best to ignore it not making the situation awkward but with how big he was it was impossible to not notice.

Next, there were the days he made dinner.

His meals were always heavy with lots of meat and carbs they always made you so sleepy. You even fell asleep at the table once but when you woke up you found yourself in his bed with his arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his large chest pressed against your back, feeling it rise and lower slowly with each breath he takes. He sounds like he’s snoring but you don’t feel confident he’s sleeping. You do feel something pocking you. You feel something hard and warm poking between your thighs slightly teasing your core.

Eventually, you’d wake up from a tight grip squeezing together your thighs and to the feeling of him thrusting his cock between your legs. Your panties stick to your soaked folds as the head of his cock grazes between your pussy lips over and over again. you fight to steady your breathing so he doesn’t know you’re awake but it’s hard as you start to feel something build and tighten in your stomach.

His hips speed up and his thrust becomes sloppy, the tip occasionally pushing your panties deeper between your folds and teasing your neglected hole. Before the knot in your stomach can come undone you’ll feel a sharp thrust but this time his cock wouldn’t go between your legs but get caught between your pussy lips as his deep thrust shoves part of your panties and his tip into your hole as you feel his member pulsate and shoot spurts of warm thick fluids almost inside you. Only for him to pull your shorts back up and roll over as though nothing happened. Able to fall back asleep quickly after soiling your panties and getting his fix.

Unbeknownst to you this wasn’t the first or only time he had his ways with you in your sleep. The first time was during the summer, when you snuck out and went drinking when your friends. By the time you got home, you were out cold, drool staining your pillow, and low snores echoing from your room.

That evening he found you lying on your stomach, with your head turned to the side while you were fast asleep on your pillow.

He called your name a few times and you didn’t move at all. He grabbed your shoulder and shook you and you were still out cold.

He stared at your resting face and your plump lips. So many vile thoughts filled his mind. That night he decided to play with your lips. First by touching them with his fingers then by shoving two fingers into your mouth. As he did this you instinctively sucked on his digits. Feeling your lips wrap around his finger made him painfully hard and he knew what he had to do to help himself.

Using his hand that was previously groping his hard-on through his pants, he pulled his cock out and then slid his fingers out your mouth. He pressed his tip to your lips, letting you give it a light kiss before he moved forward to push himself in. He moved in shallow thrust fucking his dick deeper into you until he felt himself hit the back of your throat. With his cock only halfway in he couldn’t stop there but the excitement he got from seeing how deep he was made a good amount of precum gush out. Your sleeping body, unaware of its predicament tried to fight the intrusion. It sucked air into your lungs unaware that it was making things worse for itself.

Despite seeing your struggling body something came over him. When you started choking on his member he couldn’t hold back anymore. He fucked himself into your throat with no worries of waking you up. You wouldn’t be able to escape his grip while he abused your soft warm mouth. Your head would rock every time he thrust forward and hit the back of your throat, with your brows furrowed and your nose scrunching from the pain and discomfort. growing impatient the greedy man gripped your face and held your head still as he started rapidly fucking up into hit. Sounds of gagging could be heard by anyone awake at the house. Maybe even the neighbors in the apartment next door. He felt his orgasm shoot through him and came down your throat. And of course, like a good girl, your unconscious form instinctively swallowed as much of his load as it could handle. He pulled out and some more cum gushed from his tip and dripped down your cheek mixing himself with the earlier drool that had escaped your mouth.

Somewhere in him, he knew what he was doing was wrong but each day it was getting harder and harder to care. His desire to have all of you only grew more by the day.

————————————————————————————-

The reverence Yuuji treats you with starkly contrasts the way his muscular body presses against your softness, his bare cock dribbling pre onto the plush of your thigh. It’s something of a punishment that Choso doled out—not being able to indulge in you fully—upset with your twin for being secretive and possessive of you. But as far as Yuuji is concerned, to be anywhere in the halo of your presence is a heavenly gift. To merely witness your divinity, to press his lowly, sweaty skin flush to yours—it’s more than he deserves. 

“Don’t be too rough with them,” Yuuji fusses when Choso abruptly presses your knees to your chest, leveling his face with your spread cunt. “W-wait—I wanna taste, too.” 

After Yuuji shuffles over to join Choso, two sets of broad shoulders hunch over to marvel at your beauty. Yuuji fully expects to be chewed out again—perhaps even shoved off the bed or thrown out of the room; he swallows his pride and formulates a half-hearted apology, prepared to grovel for a chance to revel in you.

Instead, he grunts in surprise when he’s pulled into a kiss.

Chapped, chilly lips slip against his own, urging Yuuji’s mouth open, wet muscles intertwining. A shiver skitters across his limbs when he discovers the little silver ball that pierces Choso’s tongue—now bumping along the expanse of his palate, tracing the velvet of his gums. It’s a sloppy exchange of spit and teeth and tongue, too frenzied to be mistaken as purely passionate. Choso reaches over to swipe a thumb across Yuuji’s fat, leaking cock head. Yuuji keens into his brother’s mouth before ripping himself away, swollen lips parted, blooming rose from the tips of his ears down to his heaving chest.

“Let’s taste her together,” Choso rasps.

Not waiting for a reply, he pecks the fat of your hip before dipping down to lap at the arousal leaking from your hole; Yuuji watches heatedly, letting saliva pool on his tongue and drip onto your clit. He then cleans his mess with noisy sucks, occasionally tugging at your folds. Too preoccupied with coaxing your unconscious body to orgasm, the brothers don’t realize how you begin to stir, fingers and toes flexing and relaxing. They savor your eventual high, admiring your glistening release.

“I’ll have her first,” Choso announces thickly, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. He’s practically vibrating—pale skin dewy with desire—having fantasized about this exact scenario more times than he can count. “You should prop her up.”

Yuuji leans against the headboard and pulls you between his strong legs, your head resting on his chest. Choso angles your hips and pumps his throbbing length a few times before nudging your entrance. Your breathing shallows and you yawn; Yuuji’s heart catches in his throat.

“Fuck—how much did you give them? Clearly not enough,” he hisses, arms tightening around your waist. “I think they’re about to wake up.”

For the first time all evening, Choso smiles at Yuuji. It’s an unsettling sight: his knife-sharp inscisors gleam in the dusk, irises black as bruised plums. “Relax,” he soothes. “She’s going to enjoy this, too. It will become a treasured memory for us all.”

Before Yuuji can respond, your eyelids flutter open. “Ch-Choso…Yuuji…” you murmur, words slow and slurred as molasses, “what are you—”

The air is promptly punched from your lungs, a strangled yelp interrupting your train of thought as Choso enters you in a single thrust—cock so deep you swear you can taste it. One of Yuuji’s rough palms rests on your belly and meanly presses down with the movement; you throw your head back and warble a moan.

“Call me ‘onii-chan,’” Choso grits out, refusing to succumb to the squeeze of your cunt so soon.

“W-what?” you sniffle. Your brain is foggy from whatever concoction they gave you, incapable of piecing together your predicament.

He grasps your chin firmly, forcing your glazed stare to focus on him. “Onii-chan,” he repeats with a harsh snap of his hips.

You squirm, trying to turn to Yuuji for help, unaware of the tears carving hot rivulets down your cheeks. But Choso won’t let you go. His heavy frame eclipses yours, trapping you in place. “We’re family,” he huffs, fucking you steadily, umber strands falling to curtain his face.

“Everything we do, we do together. You have both been—nnghhh—selfish. It’s time to make it up to onii-chan.” 

WARNINGS: NSFW🔞, brocest, !ncest, somnophilia, dub con, non con, breeding, exhibitionism (im envisioning satoru in his mid to late twenties and reader in her early twenties but they can be any adult age you choose) ~ just a drabble~

nerdy big brother satoru is invisible to everyone but his little sister who loves him just a bit too much.

satoru’s kind of smelly, like sweat and must, because he only showers once a month since ‘showering once a day is a scam created by shampoo companies.’ his nose is always runny, and he simply wipes it on his shirt whenever it gets annoying, adding to the collection of food and snot stains on his sleeve. his glasses are pushed up as high as they can go on his face, hiding his features, he never did get his acne under control, and he’s blunt and borderline rude without even realizing it. his hair is a mess, but not in the charming, careless way. he pairs socks with crocs that are a horrendous vomit color because, apparently, ‘comfort’ equals efficiency. when he’s not writing some paper for his physics class, he spends his free time glued to some dumb video game with his online friends that are just as nasty and weird as he is. the only reason his clothes get washed is because he lives at home and his mother does it, picking up his dirty clothes off of the floor for him. the only time satoru interacts with girls is when they make dating him an insult to eachother.

but then there’s you. his little sister who idolizes him, who hangs out in his room because you seem to love his ‘scent.’ you watch him for hours, engrossed in some obscure game or reading up on a random topic with an intensity that makes everything else fade into the background.

he always uses the money he’s earned from being one of the top players in his game to walk you to the ice cream shop, buying you whatever you want. as you enjoy your ice cream, you listen to him passionately ramble about physics or his game, though it can be hard to keep up, since he talks faster than the speed of light when he’s excited. he’s so intelligent that your entire family jokes that he might have been switched at birth.

he always makes sure you have more food on your plate than he does when your mom makes dinner, even though you never finish the huge portion he gives you—he ends up eating it anyway. you sleep in his bed every other night, and he never complains. he just groggily pulls back the blanket and silently invites you in when you stand at his door. you don’t even have to ask him to wrap his arms around you anymore. you feel lucky to be one of the few who gets to see him without his glasses at the end of the day, showcasing his beautiful blue eyes, delicate white lashes, and perfectly coordinated features.

when your big brother complains to you that he’ll die alone and never find a girlfriend after having one particularly rough game match, you can’t help but feel bad for him. he accidentally gets carried away and blurts out that he’s tired of using his own hand to jerk off and he apologizes immediately, pleading with you not to tell your parents. your poor big brother doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong or how he could possibly understand why girls avoid him.

you’ve seen how your friend who recently entered a relationship spends all her time with her boyfriend, constantly talking about him, and even having him move out of his parents house to move in with her.

you never imagined a world without your big brother. he promised to always be in your life and you can’t fathom otherwise, so when you ask to sleep in his bed again, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and holding your pillow close, he doesn’t hesitate to make room and let you crawl in. you cuddle into him a little closer than usual but doesn’t mind; in fact, he finds it endearing, the way you push into him, your leg resting over his hip, and your breath warm against his neck. growing up, you were always by his side, hiding behind him, latched to his side. he’s glad you haven’t outgrown that closeness, and he holds you a little tighter too. even when you sniff at his neck and chest like you’re an animal trying to get a scent profile. he just lets out a relaxed breath and nudges his head against yours until you fall asleep.

when his loud, open-mouthed snores let you know he’s fallen asleep, you quietly wiggle out of his big arms and slip beneath the blanket. you pull down his sweatpants and pokémon underwear in one go and you poke at his dick, speaking little words of encouragement to it until it grows and lengthens. it gets so long that it taps your face, right under your eye!

it doesn’t bother you when his body convulses and he busts into your mouth as soon as you latched onto his lanky, thick tipped cock. although it was slightly difficult for you to swallow due to the sour taste, you’re just pleased to be sure that you can please your big brother the way he yearns for.

though, maybe you got carried away because when you get him hard enough to suck him back into your mouth, he wakes up with a hiss. he peers down to see a large tent in his blanket where your head is and feels a wet suction on his cock. he feels around the bed and his nightstand for his glasses frantically.

when he finally manages to put his glasses on, crookedly, and lifts the blanket to reveal you where his dick should be, his jaw drops in shock.

you stifle a giggle as you push him deeper into your throat, each movement eliciting gasps of disbelief from him. he stutters that he must be dreaming repeatedly, lost in sheer ecstasy. his body tenses comically; legs straight out, muscles rigid, back hunched slightly, ass clenched, and his hands form playful stalling gestures as if caught in a delightful seizure.

he busts for the second time, but it’s the first time he’s awake to witness it. his whimpers are so loud, you’re afraid your parents will wake up.

but then you just keep suckling, not even bobbing anymore but instead keeping him warm while swallowing and sucking on it. you think it’s cute as he repeatedly questions, “why??” confused and unsure of how he’s supposed to feel seeing his little sister’s eyes roll back as he ejaculates into her throat for the third time.

satoru starts whining that it hurts when you try to keep going so you pull back and try to catch your breath as his sensitive, utterly wet cock slaps onto his lower abdomen.

he questions you, asking all sorts of things in a shaky voice, as you slowly crawl up his body to straddle his hips, causing him to cringe in the middle of his question about why you did what you just did.

“do you do this while i sleep, often? where did you learn about ‘fellatio’? don’t you know this is wrong?” your responses to his questions are simple—either that you love him, a shrug, or just that you wanted to.

things took a turn when he told you to go back to your bed. you even started crying, and he had to reassure you, telling you as he takes your hand that, of course he still loves you, how could you think otherwise? he’s just really confused.

he nervously says that dad would kill him if he found out and without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips firmly against his. his eyes widen in shock, completely still, as you begin to softly peck him. his hands instinctively shoot up to push you away, but they pause midair. then, you gently slide your tongue across his lips, and then against his teeth and gums, slowly deepening the kiss. his hands gradually lower away from your shoulders, no longer resisting.

satoru doesn’t know how to kiss. unsure of what to do, he just follows his instincts, letting you take the lead. he doesn’t fully register what’s happening until your tongue pushed past his lips and then, without thinking, he just opens them slightly. he gasps, eyes wide, as you eagerly explore his mouth, your tongue licking into every part of his mouth cavity, like a cat grooming its kitten.

you’re whining and whimpering into his mouth like you’re in pain, even saying that your tummy is so full of his cum while you bring one of his hands to it, and he whines into your mouth with guilt, wishing you didn’t just say that. but fuck, he can’t deny how harmoniously blissful it feels when your tongue rubs against his. the second you feel his poor attempt at copying your sloppy kiss, you reach down and force his cock into you to the hilt until his tip kisses your womb.

after the initial, synchronized, blood-curdling gasp shared between you, satoru’s first words are, “we can’t have sexual intercourse as siblings!” but then you’re taunting him with a breathy “why?” over and over. you start to grind down on him, making his cock smear into every crevice in every wall of your insides in a circular motion.

he’s stuttering and whining, “b-because-!” but you just won’t let him finish his sentence or a coherent thought for that matter because you lift and slam your hips down every time he tries, send8!) a jolt of godlike bliss into him.

his single bed with dragon ball sheets creaks and groans with every desperate buck. his eyes are wide with confusion, yet every now and then, they roll in sheer pleasure. as the mix of moans, sticky squelching, skin slapping, and the creaking of his bed grows louder, he whimpers, “mom and dad!”

you know him so well that he doesn’t even need to explain — you instantly understand what he’s trying to say. you reassure him that they won’t wake up, they’re all the way across the house and dad snores so loud, it never wakes mom up, remember? it’s fine! satoru truly hopes so, because his door is unlocked.

as you began to babble about how much you love him, he stutters that he loves you too at first, but soon his little ‘i lo-love you t-too!’s gave way to slurs and desperate whines. he’s trying to focus on enduring the brunt of your movements, bracing himself as if taking a punch, twitching and spasming with every impact and that tight clench of your walls around him, hoping to survive this overwhelming onslaught.

satoru kept his hands to himself for a while now, hesitant to touch you, despite his length disappearing deep into your gushy insides. but when you begin to , slowly and thoroughly lick his neck repeatedly, while you sloppily humped him, his hands shot to your hips, gripping the skin tightly. it’s as though he’s trying to stop you in the name of morals, but the way he digs his fingers into your hips betrays him—he isn’t using nearly enough force to actually halt you.

after you milked him three times with your throat, he’s thankfully lasting longer than he would have inside of a pussy otherwise. still, having only experienced the sensation of his own hand before tonight, he’s already on the brink of cumming after just ten minutes.

he starts frantically begging you to get off, pleading with you to stop and please please get off but instead, you sink your teeth into his shoulder. with one final, forceful plunge down, you stop moving entirely, locking your hips against his, cock so deep that your outer lips press into the skin where his pubes meet.

it’s like you’re using your hole as a suction tube that’s built with the intention to stimulate a humans cock in all the right ways as to collect semen efficiently. he feels like he’s tied down by metaphorical ropes and forced to cum into the tube with no way of fighting it.

his warnings urge you to reach between your bodies and circle your clit frantically. it doesn’t even take thirty seconds for you to cum because just the thought of him releasing his purest form of love into your heart shaped womb is too precious.

his breathing is erratic, almost alarming, while his eyes flicker and twitch. his toes curl, and his hips jerk up involuntarily one last time as he pleads ‘noo!’ one last time. his mouth hangs open in a way that almost looks comical as his cock jolts, breeding you. if you could somehow see inside your body with an x ray of sorts, you’d witness the way his cock twitches in tandem to the cum traveling through it, only to be drawn in and milked by your pulsing walls, perfectly made to collect it. you feel absolute bliss, as his dna pools within you, bringing you as close as physically possible.

you collapse onto his body, both of you gasping for air. with a shaky hand, he adjusts his crooked glasses, carefully straightening them.

despite everything, satoru softly asks if you’re okay, his tone full of the brotherly concern you love so much. you hum happily in response, your body reacting as your pussy clenches, making him let out a guttural wheeze, as though he’d been punched in the stomach. you both stay like that for a long time, and when you ask him to, satoru gently rubs your back, just like he does when you can’t sleep, while you rest against him, his cock still warm inside your body.

he listens carefully, straining to hear any sign that your parents are awake as you lie together in the afterglow. thankfully, he hears nothing. when you start showering sweet kisses along his neck and up to his jaw, he feels a flutter in his stomach, and his cock jerks. but he pulls his head away slightly and gently grabs your shoulders to pull you away, looking you in the eye. you break free from his grasp and continue kissing him all over his face, even as he tells you this is wrong and it can never happen again.

but satoru can tell himself whatever he wants because twenty minutes and an energy drink from his mini fridge later, he’s pounding you into his bed like his life depends on it. you cry out, eyes permanently rolled to the back of your skull as he’s forcing you to stay deep down in a mating press. he’s pushing you down with more force than he realizes, the stretch painful as he’s unaware of how much weight he’s placing on you. you can barely breathe, but you don’t mind. you know it’s because he’s inexperienced, too lost in the ecstasy between your legs to pay attention to anything else.

satoru even starts crying pathetically in utter guilt as he ruts into you sloppily and erratically hard because he’s not used to this hip motion or exercise in general. he’s whining drawn out and pathetic that he’s so sorry, over and over again, babbles that he’s just not used to this and can’t stop. to comfort him, you grip his tear-streaked cheeks and pull him close, encouraging him to drop his full weight onto you into a deep hug, above and below. you kiss him deeply, exchanging breaths and saliva, offering reassurance in the midst of his turmoil that it’s okay i love you.

many positions and rounds later, pillows and blankets are everywhere but the bed and he’s basically just sloshing his own cum back into you. the only evidence of cum around the room is between your legs because big brother satoru can’t possibly find the willpower to pull out now after you showed him how intimate a creampie is.

by the end of the night, you’re both so exhausted that you end up sleeping through the entire next day. your parents find it endearing how close you two still are, thinking it’s cute that you spent all night playing video games together, especially since satoru has no friends. however, when they make a comment about you guys being too loud, satoru nearly breaks down crying, about to confess everything. thankfully, under the table, you manage to grab his cock through his pants just in time, freezing him in place as you quickly make an excuse to your parents and apologize for the noise.

satoru likes to insist it was just a one-time thing whenever the topic comes up in conversation, especially when you tease him about it. but no matter how much he tells himself that, it just keeps happening—again and again.

the second time it happens, you rub him through his sweatpants at dinner without even looking at him while you tell your parents about an upcoming project for one of your lectures. he tried to make you stop but he busts in his pants. he even got mad at you for a few hours after, ignoring you with a hard expression until you surprised him with his favorite mochi and said you’re sorry. (you’re not.)

the third time, you claim that you want to take a bath with him like old times and your parents just love how much closer you guys are lately! satoru even believed your innocent act as you sat with your back to his chest in the water, until you lodged your brother into your pussy. when he started reprimanding you, you explained to him that cock warming isn’t fucking and sat there for thirty minutes. satoru ended up being the one to grow impatient. he wrapped one arm around your chest and shoulders, one around your lower hips, and humped up into you like a rabbit, making a watery mess on the floor. he doesn’t much care for cock warming.

the fourth time, satoru gets a job to buy a car just so he can drive you two out to an anime convention on a little siblings trip. you ended up fucking through the whole weekend without ever even leaving the hotel room. nerdy satoru even initiated some of it: telling you not to sleep in the extra bed, giving a little peck goodnight with the claim that a small peck is healthy between family (not like your other kisses at all), cuddling you into him like you’re his own personal stuffed animal, telling you how much he enjoys spending time with you, rubbing his hands up and down your back affectionately. it’s not long until his hands venture down to your ass and then before you know it, he’s thrusting into you as he holds your head so it doesn’t bang into the head board.

the fifth time, you sneak under his desk as he wrote a physics paper and you drank milk until you grew sleepy and passed out on his thigh as his cock twitched and kissed your cheek in appreciation. he wrote the word ‘the’ in the span of an hour.

the sixth time, you were doing a family movie night, and someone had to make popcorn so you and satoru hopped up to make it, since that’s a two man job, according to you. stovetop popcorn is just so much better than the easy microwave one your parents urged you to do. the second you turn on the stove, you called out that you couldn’t even hear the movie and grabbed the remote from the counter to turn it all the way up as satoru kissed your neck. your mouths crashed together the second you put the remote down and it doesn’t take long for him push you to lean over the counter and slowly, slowly slide in and out of you as to not make a lot of noise while your parents were mere feet away, happily unaware while the popcorn is popping. just in time, the popcorn timer went off as you came.

the seventh time, you were at some college party and you fed whispers into his ear in the corner of the room as you -not so subtly- pawed at his growing bulge. detailed coos of how you wanted him to fuck and lick and finger you as his eyes swirled in a spiral. he nervously fingered you, terribly with inexperience, in the bathroom before you got frustrated and shoved his face into your slit. it was so nice to make out and grope him in public where no one knows you’re related<3