#bunny.fics

well yes!

rabbot x female reader, cw: fauxcest, spanking, overstim, dadbf!robby, dadbf!jack, robby is dad and jack is daddy, 3.3k words

you had bought the toy from a prepaid 150 dollar visa gift card that jack had given you for fun. he’d noticed how your eyes lit up when robby or him let you swipe their card at a register, and he thought it was sweet. of course, you had access to his and robby’s cards. it was on your apple pay. but they saw the bill for those. you knew that. in fact, robby had told you multiple times, “don’t even think of buying anything you don’t want us to see, kid. we both have the app on our phone. and we check it. often.”

but jack was out with the swat team for the next couple hours. and robby has his own 12 hour shift today. which left you with the perfect, three hour window to get in your car. you don’t have a job, of course. you tried once, because you wanted to have work experience, but robby shut that down immediately. said your only job was to get good grades in university and be their good girl. jack had just given a shrug and said “sorry, sweetheart. i agree with dad here.” you’d had sense enough not to pout or whine.

they did allow you your car, though, which jack pushed for, much to robby's reluctance. you could still remember the way robby said "she's just a kid, man. she'll wreck it and get hurt. or she'll wreck it, be completely fine, and then cry for a week." but jack pushed, "come on, brother. she already goes to online school. we're always working. don't want her to be cooped up inside all day. 's bad for her health. she could go to the bookstore or something. make some friends."

now, you find yourself at the cash register at spencer’s, shakily handing a pink vibrator to a cashier with dyed purple hair, your face hot. you swipe your visa gift card against the register. the cashier bags your vibrator and you hurry out of the store, behaving like you’ve just committed a crime against humanity. “have a nice day?” the cashier calls out. you don’t answer. you check the garage app. no one’s come in or out since you’ve left. good. good. this will be fine.

once at home, you hurry up the stairs and head straight to your room. then, realizing you don’t have anything to open the box with, you go to jack’s room and take out his swiss army knife. you grapple with the edge of it for a second, your fake nail not allowing it to open easily. the blade nicks you as it emerges. you don’t care. you slice the box open and press on the power button until it starts buzzing.

you close your door and briefly wish you had a lock. but dad and daddy made it very clear that that wasn’t happening. so a simple closed door will have to do. you remove your leggings, then sit down on your pink duvet and stare at the clit sucker for a moment. you check the time. 2 pm. jack shouldn’t be home till at least 4, robby till 8. you open your phone, set it to do not disturb, and close it. jack and robby never text at work anyway. well, they do, but it’s more reminding you to eat and with jack a few sappy messages about how much he loves you, but they don’t expect instant responses. you should be fine. you prop your ipad up in front of you, then open it to the private video album jack and robby update every night. all your sex tapes. some with just daddy. some with just dad. some with both, one at each end of you, splitting you open completely.

you slip your hand, clasped firm around the vibrator, under your cotton panties. you tilt your head to see the screen and press play on a thirty minute long video. both your dads touching you. you remember this one. it was after a hard day for both of them, a mass casualty, jack had to go in early, just a mess. you were whining as robby fucked into you roughly. jack was behind you, with one hand on your mouth and another rubbing your clit.

the vibrator suctions your already swollen clit. you know there are rules about this. you don’t touch yourself without supervision. dad had said that you’d end up hurting yourself without knowing it. daddy agreed. the only toys in the house are locked in jack’s gun safe, kept there until whenever they decided to tease you during play.

your pussy is completely slick with fluid. your panties are damp. you realize with horror that you cannot operate a washing machine, and therefore will not be able to clean them without your dads knowing. that’s okay. it’s okay. robby often says that vaginal discharge is normal. that it’s healthy. that it’s healthy to be aroused, just as long as you don’t do anything about it without telling them. you’d just say you were really turned on during the day. easy peasy.

you raise the volume on your ipad in an attempt to drown out your own thoughts. you can do this. you can cum like a normal girl who doesn’t need her dads to watch her every second of the day. you are an adult, damn it. you can do this!

you push your hips down onto the toy as you feel your orgasm starting to build. you squeeze your eyes shut, whining out a mix of dad and daddy. “please, please, please, lemme have it. please. please. ‘m a good girl.” you cum in an intense wave. panting, immediately working for your second orgasm.

unfortunately for you, because your phone is on do not disturb, you do not hear the garage app chime with jack’s arrival. because your ipad is on so loud, you do not hear jack’s boots against the hardwood floor. you do, however, hear your door open, the vibrator still pressed uselessly against you. jack clicks his tongue and lets out a disappointed sigh “oh, honey bunny…”

you scramble up, desperate to make it go away. you toss the vibrator to the floor, as if throwing it will make it so this never happened, will make it so you never disobeyed or deceived.

“pick it up.”

jack’s voice has gone strict in a way you’ve almost exclusively seen from robby. jack doesn’t get strict. jack lets robby be the mean parent. jack gets to be the fun daddy. the one who says yes to ice cream and getting a car and letting you go outside.

your eyes well up with tears. “please don’t tell dad.” jack cocks a brow. “not worried about me? just dad? think i’ll let you get away with this bullshit?” before you can protest, jack is calling robby. 4 rings later, he picks up. jack puts him on speakerphone. “hey, brother. we got a problem on our hands.”

robby sighs. “like the house is burning down or misbehavior?” you’re sniffling on the bed now, looking down guiltily at your hands. “somehow, bunny over here got her hands on a vibrator. caught her getting off to one of our videos.” you can practically feel robby’s glare through the phone. “kid. that true? daddy walked in on you acting fucking desperate?” you don’t respond. jack smacks your ass. “answer him!” you squeak out. “yes! ‘m sorry.”

robby takes in a deep breath. he exhales. “alright, then. jack. i’m not supposed to be off for another five hours. i’ll come home earlier if i can. deal with her till then. just make sure she’s conscious and not too fucked out by the time i get back.”

jack laughs. “oh don’t worry, man. she’s not gonna be blissed out like that any time soon. see you later.”

you whine from your spot on the bed, hugging your stuffed bunny to your chest. “please don’t spank me… i said i’m sorry” jack laughs. “oh, baby. that’s dad’s job. daddy’s just gonna give you what you need. now drink some water. this is gonna be…” he smiles, as if this whole thing is some humorous incident “intense.”

jack takes the vibrator from the bed. clears his throat. puts his real knee against your comforter. “lay back.” you obey. “thought you could disobey us? fucking hell, look at ‘cha.”

you try to protest. “didn’t think it was disobeying…” jack barks out a laugh. “really, hon? didn’t think you were disobeying? christ, that’s what we’re going with? drove your pretty little ass to the store, picked it up, drove back, hid in your room, used it, and you didn’t think you were disobeying?”

you try to guilt trip him. “well, maybe if you were home to take care of me instead of working all the time….” a heavy palm cracks down on your face. “don’t you dare. you know me and dad work so you have everything you could possibly want. don’t be an ungrateful little girl. ‘s ugly on you. say sorry.”

“sorry!” you cry out. “so sorry, daddy” jack rubs his thumb over where he hit you. “good girl. just gotta correct your little notion about being allowed to disobey.”

he walks over to the ivory colored dresser and pulls out thick silk ropes. he turns on the vibrator. “spread your legs, honey bunny. there we go. attagirl.”

your legs are shaking as he ties the vibrator in between your thighs. “since you wanted to use it so much, we’re just gonna wait until the damn thing dies.” your eyes roll back and you grab his hand. “aw. poor girl. wanting daddy to make it feel better. shouldn’t have done all that then, should you have?” he pats your thigh.

your chest is heaving uncontrollably as he ties your hands above your head, connecting them to your headboard. “learned that knot way before you were born. back in the army. you remember your old man was in the army, right? that’ll hold.” you try to kick. “daddy please. love you so much. loveyouloveyouloveyou.” he pats your face. “love you too, kiddo. you know i do. but we’re your parents. gotta nip bad behavior in the bud, y’know? don’t want you doing anything dangerous because you got it in your pretty little head that you could just do whatever.”

he kisses your forehead, deceptively sweet. “now, i’m gonna take a shower. be good!” he gives you a faux stern look. “oh, you can handle it, i’m sure. such a big girl. went out and bought herself a sex toy.” the door clicks shut.

you struggle against the binds. it’s no use. you’re voice comes out garbled, thick with tears and exhaustion “daddy, come back!!” no please, you were spoiled that way by jack. dad insists on manners. “yes, please,” “no, thank you.” daddy doesn’t.

jack smiles from where he stands outside your door. good. it really pains him, having to do this to his kid. but, robby always says, kids need discipline.

you hear him walk away, the shower from his room turn on and start crying. you’re close again. you feel awful for disobeying. you want to hold your bunny. the cries get louder. he winces. this fucking hurts. but he reminds himself he needs to work on following through with consequences. that’s parenting.

you cum again fingers curling and uncurling. what you wouldn’t give for daddy to just stroke your hair right now. tell you you are doing so good. so, so good. the vibrator doesn’t let up. you try to escape, to rock, to pull, nothing stops it. you think you pass out, then wake up to another orgasm, scream, pass out again, over and over and over.

two hours later, the vibrator dies completely. the past 30 minutes were relatively low sensation. jack walks back in. he taps your cheek. “aw, pretty girl. you took that so well, didn’t you? stayed right where i left you.” he rubs his hand across your cheek. “so good. i think you deserve a reward.”

yes, god yes, you need a shower and pajamas and a cuddle. but jack doesn’t move to untie you. simply removes the vibrator from between your thighs, and, in its place, his face.

your voice is insanely hoarse as you shake your head. you can barely muster words. “no. please. please, no.” jack smiles and tilts his head. “but you always say that you just love when daddy gives you head. that i’m so much better than dad.” you try to shake your head again, but are cut off by jack’s tongue fucking into your cunt.” you try to grab at his curls, but are still tied. you cry, “wanna touch!” jack lifts his head and sucks in a breath, his face doing that stupid, infuriating expression. “sorry, hon. you’re not exactly in the position to be making demands.” his stubble rubs against your oversensitive, puffy pussy. you try to squirm away. he purposely drags his face down again. “what, you don’t like that? don’t like that? does it burn?”

you sob out. “please. daddy. ‘s too much.” he drags his nose between your folds. “this hurts me more than it hurts you, bunny.” you black out.

when you come to, jack is finally untying you. he hauls you across his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. “oh, sweetheart. you’re okay. did so well for daddy. come, let’s get food in you before dad comes home. and he is pissed.” your head goes to his shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. “no. nonononono! tell him ‘ve already been punished.” he runs his hand down your back. “you know how dad is. he’ll probably spank you. make you write some lines. but he won’t fuck you. daddy’ll make sure of it. you’ve had enough of that for the night, haven’t you?” you nod weakly. jack picks you up, and you blearily realize he put back on his prosthetic after his shower. you rub your face against his. endear yourself to him, and he just might save you.

jack sets you down on the couch and takes a photo of your tear streaked face. your skin must be angry and red. you try to cover it. he sends it to robby

attachment: 1 image

look who’s been punished

when jack brings the egg back, he ruffles your hair. “eat up, bunny. gotta get you refueled.” you collapse into his lap. “please, don’t let him punish me too bad.” jack gives you a stern look. “i’m not going to interfere with whatever consequence he gives you,” your face dims, and he quickly strokes your hair again “but i will stop him if he’s being unfair, okay? you’re not gonna pass out. daddy promises.”

the moment robby walks through the door, you bury your face in jack’s chest, your hand moves over his stomach, attempting to soothe yourself. “you’re okay, sweetheart. it’ll be fine. you’ll be all done and tucked into bed in two hours tops.” no matter what, your dads don’t let anything go past bedtime. no matter the punishment, you are always washed, brushed, kissed, and tucked in by ten pm.

robby doesn’t speak when he comes in. he gets into the shower. washes himself. changes into a pajama set. he comes back downstairs fifteen minutes later.

“i told you we made a mistake getting her that damn car, jack.”

jack rolls his eyes, stroking your back still. “i stand by the car. but we should take her keys for a week.” you whine. ‘spposed to be on my side.” jack kisses your hair. “baby, i am. i didn’t say shit about taking it away permanently, did i?”

robby rolls his eyes and pulls at the back of your tank top. “on your feet, kid.” you try to keep a grip on jack. robby glares at him. “a little help, man?” jack gently removes your hand from his shirt, kissing it. “less than 2 hours to bed, angel. daddy believes in you. my brave girl.” you sob. robby spins you around, grabbing your face. “haven’t even fucking done anything yet. relax.” you shake your head, your face covered in fresh tears now. “gonna spank me” he nods “yeah, i will.” you wail “gonna make me write lines!” he nods again. “yeah, kid, i will. you made some pretty awful choices today.”

your face crumples, and jack grimaces “ease up, brother. she knows she fucked up.” robby pushes you so that you’re bent over. “we’re gonna do thirty smacks with the belt. you don’t need to count tonight.” a small mercy, but a mercy all the same. jack working his magic. robby pulls down your panties, pinching your clit. “this little thing just controls you, doesn’t it? takes all the sense out of your goddamn head.”

you try to breathe over the couch. robby picks up a thick, leather belt. he turns to jack. “wanna grab yourself a beer? you’ve done a lot today.” jack shakes his head. “i’m good, man. we’ll have one after she goes to bed. i wanna be sober to put her to sleep.”

the taller man shrugs. “suit yourself.” he brings down the belt on your bottom. you scream. jack rubs your hand. “doing so well, baby. beyond proud of you.” robby scoffs, bringing it down again, “you always coddle her.” jack grins. “she’s a little girl, dude. our kid. she needs some coddling. and she just loves her daddy.” you sob out “love you both equally!” robby raises a brow, and your daddy laughs. “look at her, being so awfully sweet.” again the belt comes down. you clutch at the leather. jack does his best robby impression, looks down as if looking over glasses, points a finger at you. “this couch is expensive. don’t go tearing it up like a kitten.” robby brings the belt down harder. “i do not sound like that.” jack smiles. “whatever you say, brother.”

robby gives you the smallest amount of praise at the twentieth smack, if you could even call it that. “well, look who can follow directions.” it’s punctuated by another. you beg, “please just get the last few over with.” robby tilts his head. “oh, you think you can decide how your punishment goes? that’s how we do things in this house?” you try to shake your head, to explain that you didn’t mean it that way. it is no use.

the last ten are excruciatingly slow. “you disobeyed us,” smack “you broke an explicitly set rule,” smack “a rule we set for your own safety,” smack “you definitely emotionally blackmailed daddy, i can feel it,” smack “you acted as if you knew better than your parents,” smack “you behaved as if your parents don’t take good enough care of you,” smack. finally, he takes mercy on you. he does not comment on the fact that he stopped four smacks short. you collapse against the couch, sobbing uncontrollably, blinded by tears. “you understand what you did?” you nod. again, mercifully, he does not make you repeat it.

jack comes up behind you. “oh, there we go. our good girl again. so sweet. you’ll never misbehave again. daddy knows. dad got a little mean there, didn’t he.” he’s peppering your head in kisses, reaching in front to rub your tummy. “oh, i know, you poor girl. let’s get you cleaned up. sleep in daddy’s bed tonight, c’mon.” robby sucks air in through his teeth. “well… not yet.” jack glares at him. “you cannot possibly be serious.” the older man sighs. “rules are rules, jack. i said she’d be writing lines. she’s gonna be writing lines for thirty minutes.”

“dude. look at her. she can barely breathe. she can barely see. how in the ever loving fuck is she writing lines.”

“i’m not grading on handwriting. she’ll be okay.” robby goes to the basement, emerging with the dreaded stool. scratchy, with a bathmat attached to it. you buckle again. jack brings a cool cloth to your face. “it’s okay, baby, stay with me. you’ve been so brave. so good. you can write a few silly little lines. show dad what a good girl you are.” you tremble. robby picks you up anyway. jack sighs. “michael.” “no, jack, she’ll be okay.”

when robby sits you on the stool, you nearly collapse onto the bar counter. he pulls you back up, steadying you. “don’t be difficult, kid. listen to your old man. you’re going to write ‘i will not touch myself without either dad or daddy approving it.’” he takes a legal pad and writes out a sample sentence. “you’re going to write this as many times as you possibly can, until the timer runs out.”

jack puts a hand at the back of your neck. he lowers his head, whispers in your ear. “you got this. and you know, dad’s gonna feel so guilty after, i can tell. he’ll probably want to cuddle you all night too. won’t that be fun?” you whimper. the timer starts.

your entire body feels like it’s made of rocks. you are pushed on by jack’s constant and robby’s sporadic praise. robby whispers “knew you could do it” and your heart soars.

the timer goes off. you were only able to write ten sentences. robby doesn’t comment on it. you collapse like a house of cards. he catches you, picks you up, and brings you to the couch.

“that’s my girl. knew you could do so much better. you’re not gonna lie again, are you?” your head lolls against his neck, eyes already drooping. he pinches your thigh. “i asked you a question.” you’re immediately shocked back into yourself.

“n—no, dad”

jack tilts your face up, kissing your lips. “that’s our perfect little girl. best daughter we could ask for, right, robby?”

OH YES

rabbot x female reader, cw: fauxcest, spanking, degradation, dadbf!robby, dadbf!jack, robby is dad and jack is daddy, 1.8k words

jack had been invited to an emergency medicine conference in new york to present some research that he had helped one of the med students get published. he was very proud of it. you and robby and jack all went out for dinner before he left. daddy had even let you have a few sips of his scotch, which got you all buzzy and touchy. robby let jack have all the fun last night. poured himself a drink and sat on the bed reading a book while daddy took you apart, occasionally reaching over to pinch your thigh when he felt like you were enjoying yourself too much.

then the morning of comes around. you’re crying on the couch and jack is comforting you, holding you in his lap. “hon. it’s only gonna be for four days. you have dad. you’ll be okay.” your face crumples. you love dad. of course you love dad. but you also love daddy and he’s leaving and dad can be so mean. you try to interject “but,” as if reading your mind, jack bounces you. “hey, i already talked to dad about being gentler when i’m away. he knows you need that. he agreed.”

the first day goes without incident. robby comes home from work. he notices you’re feeling poorly. he teases you a little. a few kisses. he ruffles your hair. “oh, c’mon. you’re not really scared of your dad, are you? oh, i know, i can be strict. but it’s cause i care, kid. you know that.” you nod. of course it’s because he cares. he tells you all the time. “i know! not trying to make you feel bad… just really miss daddy.” robby coos. “poor thing. i know. you’re really close to him, he dotes on you. i know, baby. it’s real hard. but guess what? we’ll call him tonight after he’s finished presenting.”

he holds true to his word. you have dinner, and he makes you eat all your vegetables, even though jack only ever makes you eat half. “no can do, kiddo. eat it up. then you can have that strawberry milk you like.” you whine. strawberry milk doesn’t count as dessert. “but daddy lets me have ice cream after dinner!” robby exhales through his nose, as if fighting to keep his calm. “well, that’s daddy’s business. dad says no ice cream unless you’ve had a vaccine.”

after dinner, robby gets you upstairs. he takes you into the big steam shower in his bedroom. he even makes you cum in the shower! dad is being really nice! he’s still him, still firm and strict and “okay, time for bed, kid. we’ll call daddy now.” he facetimes jack, who picks up with a cheery “hey, brother. how’s our girl?” robby scoffs, but there’s no heat in it. “fought me about wanting ice cream after dinner, but other than that she’s been real good.”

robby hands off the phone to you. you squeal. “daddy!! how was presenting? how’s the hotel? do you miss me?” dad gives a little eye roll, but daddy replies, “of course i miss my perfect girl. presenting was fine,” robby lifts up your nightgown, spreading your legs, lowering his face to your cunt. your eyes flick down. “dad..?” he doesn’t respond, just immediately dives in to lap between your folds. “what’s dad doing, honey?” jack is already smiling. he knows. “he’s… eating me.” jack coos, “oh, yeah? he’s got that beard on your pretty little pussy, doesn’t he?”

you whimper as robby works you. jack smiles. “see, michael. knew you could be sweet with her.” robby grumbles and lifts his head up, “i am her dad, you know? ‘s not like i want to be a dick to her. just trying to keep her well behaved.”

jack nods sagely and hums. “i know. behave for dad, princess. you know he tries.” you nod, extremely close now, and throw your head back. “yes, daddy.” you tip over the edge when you feel robby’s tongue slide into your hole. “ah—” the phone tips onto your chest. “‘m gonna—” robby pinches your thigh. you are done for. you whine out “loveyouloveyouloveyou.” jack laughs. “oh, it’s happened.” you claw at the faded hebrew tattoo on robby’s shoulder. surprisingly, he doesn’t scold you, just pulls his head up, kisses your cheek, and mutters. “go to bed, now.”

the next day, robby goes to work early in the morning. he leaves oatmeal, an egg, and covered orange juice on your placemat. you decide not to do any class work today. you just miss daddy so much.

you spend most of the day texting daddy, who does not ask if you’ve done your work. you send him pictures of you in the shower, then a video of you spinning around in a new dress.

when robby comes home, he makes dinner. chow mein and spring rolls, because you wanted chinese food, and robby doesn’t trust restaurants to make healthy food. he puts in a lot of effort. you sit on his lap while you eat. he kisses the back of your head. “want your strawberry milk?” you grumble. “ice cream.” he cocks a brow. “you’re not getting ice cream right now. and you better fix your attitude, kid. i’m really not in the mood.” he’s never in the mood, you think bitterly.

you mumble, “fine. i’ll have the stupid milk.” robby swats your thigh. “absolutely not. we do not behave like brats in this house. wanna try it again?” you refuse. robby lets out a long suffering sigh. “fine. gimme your computer. gotta make sure you did your homework.”

your blood runs cold. this is not good. this is beyond not good. “um, my computer died after i finished the work. it’s dead now.” robby gives you a blank look over his glasses. “bring it here.” you fidget with your fingers. “i left it upstairs. don’t wanna walk up.” robby takes a breath in, trying to remain calm. “kiddo, is there something you want to tell me about the computer? is there anything you maybe didn’t do?” you shake your head vigorously. “no! god, dad. you always think i’m hiding something. shouldn’t think like that.” robby lets out a disbelieving huff. “oh, you definitely didn’t do your work. deflecting like that.” you try to protest, but his hand cracks against your face.

“tell me the truth. did you, or did you not, do your homework?” you clutch your cheek. “didn’t do it….” robby laughs. “okay. and instead of telling me, ‘dad, i mismanaged my time. i didn’t do my work.’ you lied and deflected and acted like i was being unfair to you. right?” you nod, tears gathering in your eyes. now would be the time that daddy jumps in, where he pulls you to his chest and says “ease off, man. she gets distracted easily,” but daddy is not here. dad is here. and dad is pissed.

robby holds out his hand. “give me your phone. let me see what you were doing when you were supposed to be working.” you hand it over. any resistance will be used against you. you know that. besides, maybe he’ll take pity on you when he sees you were just texting daddy.

he opens your phone. the messages app. literally your entire day has gone to texting jack. “of course he didn’t think to ask if you’ve done your work. of course. i always have to be the bad guy.” you whimper, “i don’t think you’re a bad guy.” he sneers “shut up. you knew you were already disobeying. and then you bratted at me about ice cream.”

he takes your wrist and drags you over to the couch. you try to squirm, but he’s tall and broad and holding you entirely in place. “wait, please.” robby clicks his tongue. “sorry, kid. you earned this.” you can hear the facetime ringing. jack picks up almost immediately. “hey—”

“guess who didn’t do her homework.”

jack winces. “angel, this true?” you open your mouth, but robby cuts you off. “yes, it is. she was too busy texting you. and you didn’t even ask if she’d done her work.” you whine miserably “was just missing daddy.” you can feel jack’s sympathy through the screen. “oh, honey. i know. i know you miss me so much. daddy misses you too. but you can’t be shirking your schoolwork like that.” tears well up again, and this time they actually fall. “i know…” jack sighs “come on, man. she’s learned her lesson. she feels awful. lay off.” robby snaps. “no. this is exactly why she keeps misbehaving. you coo and coddle and make all the consequences of her actions go away.” jack raises an eyebrow. “first of all, calm your tits. second of all, i’m her parent too. i’m allowed to not punish her.”

robby rubs the crease between his brows. “well, you’re not here now. guess i’m gonna have to teach her a lesson she won’t forget.” jack’s voice goes thick with alarm. “robby? come on, man. let’s not.” robby laughs. “nope. we’re doing this. hold the phone if you want daddy, kid.”

he pulls up your nightgown and pushes you over the arm of the couch. you clutch the phone, desperate. “daddy, make him stop!” a thick leather belt meets your ass, and you scream. jack grimaces. “oh, my sweet girl. daddy’s here. daddy’s here.” robby scoffs. “no, he isn’t. dad’s here. and dad’s not letting this fly any longer.”

you sob into the couch, smacking robby’s phone against the leather at one point. he smacks you again. “we do not disrespect dad’s belongings, do we?” you scream. “no, daddy!”

the entire time, jack is pacing the hotel room. “oh, baby. you can do this. show dad that you’re so brave, he doesn’t even get to you.” snot and tears cover your face. robby takes the phone and tilts it so jack can see properly. “i don’t know, brother. looks like i’m getting to her.”

jack slams his hand against the wall. “robby. come on.” the taller man taunts him. “come on, you said she’s so brave, remember? she can handle ten more.”

the last ten are almost merciful in their quickness, but evil in their strength. robby puts his entire bad back into it. you scream against the couch. “can’t!!! stop, please!” robby smacks you again. “will you do your homework.” you struggle, trying to catch your breath. another smack. “yes! i’ll do my homework!”

when robby finally stops, you are crying uncontrollably. jack is cooing at you over the phone. “poor baby. sweet little girl. daddy’s sorry this happened.” robby rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah. think she just needed some of dad’s special touch, didn’t she?” you don’t answer immediately. he smacks the back of your head. “didn’t she?” you sob. “yes! needed— needed dad’s special touch.”

being titus’s kidnapped little girl 💕

titus danforth x female reader, hardcore gaslighting, feminine reader, cw: fauxcest, cw: kidnapping, titus very obviously has no issues hitting women, cw: violence, miiiiiiiiiiindbreak, dead dove, ursula is dead and titus holds the seat of power

well, you weren’t kidnapped, per se, as titus so often likes to tell himself. au contraire, you walked into the danforth resort of your own free will and volition. titus loves to muse that if your biological “father” was any father at all, he would’ve kept you locked in the house. you don’t do well with freedom, he says.

it was shortly after your birthday. freshly legal! you and your friend decided to take a short trip. you were drinking at the hotel bar when titus came upon you. sitting in that little pink and white lace dress, clearly not of legal age to drink. titus wanted to wring the neck of the bartender serving you. in truth, he wanted to wring your neck as well. silly little girl, inebriating herself. it was there that he’d overheard you and your friend making plans for the night. you’d go to sleep at around 10, tired from the flight in. at about the same time, your friend would head out to explore the nightlife. she told you she’d be back at around 3 am.

he knew what he had to do. ursula probably would’ve told him that this was a patently idiotic idea. she probably would’ve called him a pathetic loser, can’t find a woman he likes with all the money in the world at his disposal, has to capture a barely legal teenager out of her bed at night. but ursula is… gone for that very reason. she thought she could control titus. he had to show her he wasn’t a man who could be controlled. you’d get that soon enough.

so, he stole into your room at 11 pm. as he loomed over your bed, you stirred. he’ll always remember how your eyes widened in terror as he stared down at you. you tried to scream, tried to bite, but he had a cloth pressed firmly over your mouth. making you sleepier, and sleepier, and sleepier. “shhh, baby,” he said long after you had stopped struggling.

he carried you like that, down the hall, down the elevator. placed you on the golf cart and drove you to the lodge. he didn’t much care for discretion these days. with mr. le bail smiling down on him, there’s not much titus couldn’t get away with. in fact, there’s nothing that titus couldn’t get away with.

none of the staff, certainly not pernilla, commented on your arrival. they had no interest in disappearing. pernilla seems to enjoy these things. you would grow to actively dislike pernilla.

he laid you down in the bed in one of the many rooms in the lodge. he made you hot chocolate. he set a syringe of ativan on the nightstand, anticipating a struggle. he didn’t want to puncture you much. your skin was so unmarked, it would look out of place.

by 1:30 am, you started to stir. titus snuffed out his cigar and approached the bed. you shot straight up and he petted your hair. you immediately started crying. “where am i..?” he just shushed you. “please, let me go, i swear i won’t tell the cops.” oh, you sweet summer child, the police wouldn’t do anything.

“relax, sweetheart. did you have a bad dream again? what’s going on, honey?”

he looked genuinely concerned. so familiar with you. to the point where you thought that maybe you were dosed at the bar and are having some strange trip. he petted your hair again. “honey, you’re scaring dad. let’s get you bathed…”

your eyes widened again. dad? no, you have a dad, distant as he may be. and this man isn’t him.

titus clicked his tongue. “oh, sweetheart, my bunny, you’re all out of sorts, aren’t you? ‘s been happening on and off since you were in that dreadful accident. you do remember that, don’t you?”

you weren’t tied up. why wouldn’t a kidnapper tie you up? you jerked, kicking titus in the chest. in the balls. in the face. wherever your feet could reach. they were pinned down immediately. he looked at you with so much sympathy. “my poor girl. shhhhh. daddy’s gonna give you your anxiety medicine. it’s been really hard for you, i know.” he picked up the syringe, tapped the needle, and pressed it into your upper arm. you screamed. he mumbled “close your eyes, kid. i know. you never like this part. this’ll take care of those yucky feelings.”

when you woke up again, around eight hours later, the room you were in was either completely redecorated or a different room all together. your vision swam. you pushed yourself up and saw that it was decorated entirely in lace, a few stuffed bunnies around you, mocking your plight. your voice came out garbled, but as loud as you could muster. “help! somebody help me!”

titus came back into the room. he looked exasperated. and when you got the courage to scream “where am i?” he looked pained. he forced tears to well in his eyes. he thought of ursula, always treating him like a child. well, fuck ursula. you’re his now. and you’re going to obey him. and he’d treat you like a child, not the other way around.

he rubbed a hand over his greying, stubbled jaw. you were so confused. so frightened. “can you tell me what you remember, hon?” he looked like he genuinely cared, though you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. he was actively steeling himself against laughing. not that you knew that. “i— i was sleeping in my bed. in the hotel—” he cut in “baby, what hotel. you know i’d never let my sweet girl stay in a hotel by herself.” you glared at him “and then you were standing over me. and i screamed. and i woke up here. and you injected me with some— some fucking thing. and i woke up here.”

there was a sharp crack against your thigh. tears welled immediately in your eyes. “i’m sorry, baby. you know how dad feels about you swearing. oh, i know, you’ve had such a hard night, but we do gotta keep some manners. ‘s just so fucking crass. but i know you’ve been having a hard time lately. that’s why i’m going easy on you.”

you tried to bite him. “you’re not my fucking father.” he laughed. just laughed. “‘m sorry, honey. i know you’ve been all out of sorts but— god. of course you’re my daughter. raised you by myself, since your mommy died in childbirth. don’t you remember all the pony rides? the parks? any of it? the fucking diapers i changed? the way you cried on the first day of school every year?”

he produced 10 printed photos. all clearly of you as a child. thank mr. le bail for the satanic little favors he bestowed upon titus. you were addled from the after effects of both the chloroform and ativan. you mumbled. “what happened? why can’t i remember any of these?” titus sighed and kissed your forehead. “you hit your head while driving a year ago. it’s why i don’t let you drive anymore. the doctors said the accident severely diminished your capacity for independence—” your eyes started to well again. was this really your father? he had all these photos. and you looked so happy in all of them. “no, don’t cry, baby. dad loves taking care of you. you know that.”

he pulled up an old video of what appeared to be him and you on your fifteenth birthday. you were sitting on his lap, hugging him, the biggest grin on your face. the you that you did not remember said “thank you, daddy!”

thoroughly broken, you whimpered “but i feel really strange… like something awful happened to me.” titus nodded and gave a pout. “i bet you do, angel. i bet dad’s sweet girl feels so bad. but you’ve always had anxiety. that’s why i give you your medicine every morning. but you’ve had a fever for the past two days and i’ve been so focused on getting cold medicine in you that i forgot your other medication.” he gripped your face, smushing your cheeks together. “but that’s dad’s fault. not yours. you get that? i’m the one who was supposed to take care of that. don’t even think of blaming yourself.”

titus picked you up. you tried to bite him again, but it was weak with the confusion of the situation. he was clearly your dad, right?

he positioned you on his lap and pushed your legs apart. you were in a thin cotton nightgown now, with no panties in sight. he inched his hand up your thigh. you curled into him “‘m sorry, dad.” he shushed you. “nothing to be sorry for. we’re just gonna get you taken care of.” a thick finger circled your clit, it did not push in, nor did it attempt to bring you to completion, it simply toyed with you. titus pressed a kiss to your cheek. “‘s okay if you lost all your memory. daddy’ll make you remember, won’t he?”

okay we’re gonna get a bit fucked up with this…… choose your adventure mentally, realcest or fauxcest

uncle!jack abbot x female reader, jack is a perv 💕, 1.6k words

jack had tried. he really had. he had tried not to look at you that way. since the moment you turned sixteen, he’d made an effort not to be alone with you too long, to keep conversations brief. he mentally hit himself whenever he caught himself staring at your legs at barbecues and family gatherings.

“do not picture her bent over. do not picture her naked. do not picture her in the bath or the pool or near any body of water. do not picture her lips around your cock. do not picture— you asshole, she’s your niece.” the mantra he kept repeating to himself. over and over till the information felt like it was seeping out of his skull and onto the floor. you’d felt it, the great shift. no more uncle jack ruffling your hair or picking you up or calling you baby.

but now, your parents are hosting a pool party to celebrate your eighteenth birthday. you’re in an outrageous gingham bikini. seriously, if you were his daughter, he’d never allow this. he knows how men are. how they’d look at you. how he looks at you.

he brought a gift, of course. it’d be rude not to. he went to sephora and picked up a few glosses. then he kicked himself because he started picturing you applying it, which led to him picturing you kissing him, which led to— “uncle jackie!” you call out “get in the pool!”

he laughs, trying to cover up the fact that he absolutely could not go in the pool with you. not without getting arrested, that is. he waves a hand. “i’m good where i am, kiddo. trust me, you don’t wanna see this old man without his shirt.” fuck. he made it weird. why did he have to make it weird?

you frown and lift yourself up on the ledge of the pool, breaking into a sprint to hug him. he glances down. do not look at her tits, you dirty old man. do not do it. he does anyways. he couldn’t help. the sheen from the pool and sun making you all the more inviting, what it would be like to bury his face in….

you slam into him, desperate for the easy affection he used to provide you with. he wraps an arm around you, kissing your head. “eighteen, huh? i remember when you were just born, all tiny and pink. now you’re an adult. jesus. i’m getting old.” he taps your cheeks. “remember you when you were still potty training. you had this guilty little look whenever you told anyone you had an accident. just the cutest.” you wrinkle your nose. “can we not talk about” you whisper “potty training.” he raises his hands. “sorry, kiddo. just remembering how full my sister’s hands were with you.”

your eyes dart hungrily to the sephora bag. “that for me?” he furrows his brows, scratches his head in deep concentration. “damn… i thought i bought lip glosses for myself.” you giggle. uncle jack is so funny! you press into him again and stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “thank you, uncle jackie.” he takes a deep breath in. do not get hard. do not get hard. do not get hard because the girl you’ve known since before she was born kissed your cheek, you fucking pervert! you are a physician, a veteran, goddamnit. you can keep your cool.

you grab the bag out of his hand, and whip your head around. your mom calls. “shower and put on your dress, hon. we’ll take pictures and cut the cake when you’re out.” you pout, but know better than to pick a fight with your mom, on your birthday, no less. you run off, kiss your mom on the cheek, and head into the house.

jack sits at a table with your mother. she pulls out her phone, scrolling to a picture from exactly eighteen years ago today. jack holding you as a newborn. she tears up. “can you believe it, jack? my baby girl? a woman?” oh, he can believe it. he believes it so hard that if his sister knew how much he believes it, she’d have his head on a spike, rightfully so. he shakes his head, throat growing dry. “she’s still a little girl,” he says, trying to convince himself “’s not like eighteen changes anything.” she dabs at her eyes, then checks the time. “thirty minutes… jack, go up to her room and try to rush her out, i’ll take out the cake.”

he does not groan. that would look weird, right? he’s not about to look weird. he’s been in your room countless times. he raps on the door. the water is still running. he should leave. should tell his sister that you’re still in the shower and that he’ll check again in ten minutes. he does not. he sits on your loveshackfancy bedspread. he remembers your mom decorating this room years ago. god. his niece.

the water shuts off five minutes later. he should announce himself. should call out that he’s here. should say “get yourself decent, kid.” he does not.

you exit your bathroom, fully bare, save for the towel on your head. he expects you to scream, to freak out, to hit him. instead, you just tilt your head. fuck. he’s hard. “uncle jackie? why… are you in my room?” he rubs his greying facial hair, looking down. “your mom wanted me to get you for cake.”

you shift from side to side. “why aren’t you looking at me, jackie?” his voice goes rough. “uncle jackie.” he corrects. his brow raises as you make no effort to cover up. “i should go—” your hand darts out, grabbing his wrist. “stay. i’ve missed you.” you frown. he chuckles. “kid, there’s better ways to catch up that don’t involve you being naked in front of your uncle. you’re not a little girl anymore, don’t know if you realize, but it’s a little inappropriate.”

you pout. “you never hang out with me anymore… did i do something bad?” he stares at the floor intently, desperate for you not to notice the hard on in his shorts. “nah, kid. nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. i’ve just been busy.”

jack tries not to look as you bend and take the towel off of your head, water dripping down onto the hardwood floor. you sit on his lap. he sucks in a breath. “jesus, baby. this is so not okay.”

you wriggle over his erection. jack throws his head back. “honey. i’m your uncle. you can’t be doing this.” you press your face into his neck. “just want you to like me again…” he barks out a laugh. “you’re gonna make me more than like you if you keep that up.” your face lights up like a child, which, to be fair, you were less than 24 hours ago. you wriggle around even more. he sucks in a breath. “christ. where’d you learn how to do that?” your face brightens. “my friend told me this is how you make guys like you.” his jaw tightens. “never tried it before?” you curl into him further, rocking your hips over his clothes. “nope!” you pop the p “just you, uncle jackie.”

it is at that point that jack throws the last remaining shred of his morals to the wind. his hands comes down on your ass. “you know what’s even better at making guys like you?” you shake your head. “let uncle jackie show you. but it’s just for us, mkay? just uncle jackie and his sweet girl’s secret.”

you grin as he pushes you back on your bed. he curses internally. who knows how long you two have before your mom gets fed up and comes searching herself. “you’ll like me so much after this?” jack sighs, unbuckling his pants. “i’ll like you the most, princess.” he crawls over you on duvet. he hasn’t taken off his shirt, polo still fully on. he presses his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in roughly. “that’s how grown ups kiss. and you’re a grown up now, aren’t you?” you whimper. it feels strange. but uncle jackie promised to like you the most after this!

jack presses a kiss to your forehead. “now,” he strokes your cheek, “this may pinch a bit. i’m gonna cover your mouth so no one finds out we’re having so much fun without them.” you nod. that makes sense. besides, uncle jackie is a doctor. he wouldn’t do anything that would damage you. his hand clasps firmly over your mouth as he slides into you, all the way to the hilt. he does not stop as you whine and cry into his hand. his voice lowers. “i know, i know, bunny. that was a biiiig stretch, huh? but you’re so brave, yes you are. uncle jackie’s got you.”

you cling onto him, trying to kiss him as he pummels your cunt. you whine softly into his palm. he silences you with a kiss to your forehead. “so good, baby. making uncle jackie like you so much. you’re the best girl ever.” you wriggle under his grasp. “even better than your wife?” his hips stutter. his dead wife. and here he is, fucking his barely legal niece. the guilt barely lasts a second. “much better. you just wanna make me happy, right?” you nod fervently, close, though you do not know it yet. you squeeze around him, causing his head to fall over. he thrusts, over and over and over again, until you are dripping and full with his cum. he starts to soften inside you, pressing another kiss to your head.

OH WELL YES

titus danforth x female reader, cw: stepcest, cw: noncon heavy, 1.4k words

your mother’s family was much beloved of mr. le bail. even when they broke the rules, no one from your line had ever exploded. this was extremely valuable to the high council.

when titus took the high seat, he decided that he wanted bloodline immunity for himself. he sent your mother a proposal through mr. le bail’s lawyer, and she accepted instantly. the wedding happened in the satanic temple under danforth lodge the next night. you were still away at university. you found out over the phone. your mother presented it to you as the most wonderful thing possible. “oh, honey. he has the high seat. he’s the most powerful person in the world. that makes us the most powerful people in the world.”

for a month, titus conducted his marital duty with reluctance. your mother did not make a lot of noise. he flipped her over, fucked her, and then collapsed. night in, night out.

when you arrive at the danforth lodge the summer following your freshman year at college, your mom rushes to greet you. “oh, my baby. you haven’t changed a bit. come. meet your new dad.” she leads you through the lodge. oakwood and mounted heads of various exotic animals. you grimace at the sight of a stuffed tiger.

you are having tea with her in the dining room when titus walks in. he raises a brow and takes the seat next to you, not your mother. “well, if it isn’t our lovely daughter.

you shift, uncomfortable under his predatory gaze. your father had died less than a year ago. still, your mother kicks your shin under the table. “say thank you.” heat rises to your cheeks. “thank you.” “dad” your mother fills in. you grimace, looking as if you’ve tasted something sour. “thank you, dad.”

she turns back to titus, giving him her most charming manners. “she has absolutely zero manners sometimes.” he smiles back. it’s cold. “nothing a little discipline can’t fix, i’m sure.”

the entire night at dinner, titus openly touches you. a hand at your back when you stand to go the bathroom. a hand at your lip where a spot of food has appeared. your mother notices, of course she does, you look to her a dozen times. she says nothing, just gives a pursed smile.

you are led to your room upstairs by pernilla. she is a large and imposing woman. you try to make small talk. she doesn’t respond. at first glance, the room is spacious, but sparse, not that you ever kept much decor. a few mementos, here and there. you strip off your clothes, ready to take a scalding hot shower. titus enters without knocking. you cover yourself instinctively. “get out!”

he laughs, and your blood runs cold. “relax, honey. i’m your dad now. dads see their little girls naked all the time. though, we do have some lost years to catch up on.” you shake your head fervently. “i’ll tell my mom!” he gives you a faux pout. “oh, i’m sure you will. and she’ll kiss your hair and tell you to be nice to your new dad, won’t she?”

the awful, terrible thing about that, is that he’s right. he’s so right. your mother would say exactly those words. he takes your face in one hand, smushing your cheeks together. “don’t worry, sweetheart. daddy’s gonna keep you safe from now on.”

he leaves without fucking you that night. just lets his gaze pass over your naked body, assessing. he smiles, a twinkle of amusement visible. “have a good night, princess. sweet dreams.”

you have to get out of here.

the next morning, you wake up early. you repack your suitcase. you tell yourself you will leave this house and titus and your godforsaken mother behind. you drag the suitcase down the stairs, wincing at the noise. you make it to the door when you hear a throat clear behind you. “sneaking out, are we? that’s not good behavior, is it?”

you smile, fake and polite and everything your mother has trained you to be. “it was so lovely meeting you, but my friend has had an emergency. i need to go be with her.” he shakes his head “absolutely not. you’ll stay here. what use could you possibly be in an emergency?” you try to laugh, but it comes out thin. “she needs me. you know how it is.” he tilts his head. “i’m afraid i don’t ‘know how it is,’ what i do know is that my daughter came sneaking down the stairs with her suitcase, about to disappear into the night. clearly, no one has ever taught you the first thing about safety.”

you square your shoulders, attempting to look bigger than you truly are. “i’m an adult. and i’m your wife’s daughter. not yours.” he clicks his tongue. “see. this is what i mean. you think because you’re an ‘adult’ you can just go endanger yourself. not in this house. in this house, little girls are safe and respectful.”

you try to push past him. “you can’t force me to stay.” he grabs you, rough around your wrist. “on the contrary, yes i can.” he drags you upstairs. you scream. writhe. nearly fall to the ground. he throws you over his shoulder and carries you the rest of the way up. he slams you down on your bed. “now. you’re going to stay here and think about how daddy is only trying to keep you safe. i have some issues to sort out with your mother.”

you scream, “you’re insane!” as he locks the door from the outside. you cry, curse, slam your fist against the heavy door. it won’t give. nearly half an hour later, you hear voices outside your door. your mother’s. and titus’s.

“i’ll put this plainly. i think we need to live separately. i’ll keep our daughter. you’ll retain all the benefits of being married to me, i’ll retain all the benefits of being married to you.” there’s barely a pause, your mother’s voice coming instantly “whatever i want, whenever i want it. swear on mr. le bail, and she’s yours.” your heart sinks. no. no. no. do not leave me with this madman. “i swear on mr. le bail, that you may have whatever you want, whenever you want it, if i get to keep the girl.”

the door unlocks, and your mother walks through, a smile plastered on your face. “honey, i’m gonna be away for a bit. i want to travel. dad will take care of you! love you lots!” you scream. “you cannot give me to him!” she pets your hair. “oh relax, sweetie. he likes you. he won’t hurt you.”

your mother leaves soon after that. she gives titus a kiss on the cheek. he says, extremely politely, “i’ll get your things mailed.” anything to get you alone as soon as possible.

the moment the door closes, he stalks back up to your room. he unlocks the door. “you’ll understand why i have to keep you in here soon. you’re just too pretty. you don’t know what men will want to do to you. i do. you just gotta stay here, with me.”

you’re frozen with fear. your one hope at safety, your mother, just left with her trunks packed, not a care in the world. he presses your legs apart, pushing you back on the bed. “spread your legs wide, there we go, just like that.” you try not to look as he undoes his pants, hard cock springing free from dark trousers. he pushes the head of it against your hole. “now, this is going to feel a little funny, okay? stay with me.” you do not say that you’ve had sex before. that would likely anger him. you close your eyes, tight. he groans into your ear. “such a sweet girl. you’re going to learn how to be so good for your dad, won’t you? you just haven’t had a proper parent yet.”

his thumb circles your clit in tight circles, unwilling though you are, your peak approaches. you let out an involuntary whimper. he smiles, pleased. “that’s it. just give in to daddy. i’ll make you feel so good. you won’t ever need anyone else.”