I Couldn't Get Over Their Almost-kiss, So They're Now My Official Ship For This Show 🎉✨

good shit

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

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i love incest and im going to continue to love incest until the day i die

“REJOICE, BOYS”

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSHARING IS CARINGㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Dick Grayson x Wayne Reader x Yandere Jason Todd

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : They aren't really good at sharing things. But one thing that they both can agree on is that they like fucking you.

☆⁠ WARNING : MINOR DNI, straight up smut, threesome, stepcest.

☆⁠ NOTES : Reader is female as usual. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

The Batcave smells like sweat, blood, and sex—raw and dirty, the kind of stench that clings to the walls and stains the mats beneath you. You’re fucked-out already, sprawled ass-up on the grimy training floor, caught between Dick and Jason like some twisted prize they’ve been clawing at for hours.

Dick’s got you pinned, his moral bullshit long gone, just a snarling, sweat-drenched man with his cock buried balls-deep in your cunt. His hands are bruising your hips, fingers digging in so hard you’ll feel the marks for days, and he’s growling against your neck, all that golden-boy charm fucked into oblivion. “Jason, you’re fucking her too hard,” he snaps, voice ragged, his thrusts sloppy as he tries to keep some shred of control. But he’s lying—he’s just as brutal, slamming into you like he’s trying to carve his name into your goddamn soul.

Behind you, Jason’s massive hands gripping your waist like a vice as he rams into you from the other end, his dick stretching your ass so wide it burns in the best fucking way. “She’s a big girl, Dickie,” he snarls, voice dripping with venom and lust, his breath hot and damp against your ear. “She can take my cock—look at her, fuckin’ drooling for it.” He yanks your hair back, forcing your face up from the mats, and you whimper, spit trailing down your chin, your body shaking under the onslaught.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna break her,” Dick grits out, but his hips don’t stop, pounding into your dripping pussy with wet, obscene slaps that echo through the cave. He’s a mess—hair plastered to his forehead, sweat rolling down his chest, eyes wild as he watches where he’s splitting you open. His fingers slip, slick with your juices, and he smears it across your thigh like he’s marking you.

“Then don’t be a pussy,” Jason fires back, his thrusts brutal, unrelenting, his balls slapping your skin with every filthy shove. “She’s begging for it. Ain’t that right, princess?” He slaps your ass, hard, the sting making you yelp, and you feel a fresh gush of wetness spill out of you, soaking Dick’s cock even more.

“I’m—I’m fine,” you choke out, voice wrecked, barely audible over the sound of flesh smacking flesh. “Please, Dick, fuck me harder—please.” It’s a desperate, slutty whine, and Jason laughs, dark and mean, his hand sliding down to rub at your clit, rough and careless.

“Listen to her, Grayson,” Jason taunts, his fingers slipping in your slick, making you scream as he presses down hard. “She’s a fuckin’ Wayne—she’s built for this shit. Give her that pretty-boy dick like you mean it.”

Dick’s eyes flare, lust and fury crashing together, and he snaps. “Fuck it,” he snarls, and then he’s gone—fucking feral—his hips slamming into you so hard your tits bounce, your whole body jolting forward into Jason’s punishing rhythm. “You want it? Take it, then,” he growls, voice low and dangerous, his cock driving so deep you feel it in your throat. Your cunt’s a sopping mess, cum and slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the mats in a filthy puddle.

Jason’s not letting up either—his thrusts are savage, splitting your ass open, and he’s grunting like an animal. “Goddamn, you’re tight,” he rasps, his voice cracking with raw need. “Takin’ me like a fuckin’ champ—shit, you’re a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Dick spits, but it’s half a moan, his grip on your hips bruising as he drills into you. “She’s not yours—she’s mine.” You feel Dick twitch inside you, close to blowing his load.

“Keep dreamin’, asshole,” Jason shoots back. He leans down, spits on where his cock’s stretching you, and the wet slide of it makes you scream, your body bucking between them. “She’s creamin’ all over me—fuck, look at that.”

They’re both losing it, and you’re the center of their storm—fucked-out, dripping, your cunt and ass clenching around them as they take you apart. “You’re a goddamn mess,” Dick groans, his voice breaking as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your face is tear-streaked, lips swollen, and he smirks. “So fuckin’ beautiful like this.”

“Move,” Jason snaps, shoving Dick’s hand away, and then he’s yanking you up by the hair again, his lips crashing into yours in a messy, bruising kiss—teeth and tongue and pure desperation. Dick growls, jealous, and his next thrust is so hard you see stars, your moan swallowed by Jason’s mouth.

“Gonna cum,” Dick pants, his rhythm faltering, and Jason’s right there with him, his grunts turning into low, guttural curses. “Fuck—me too,” he mutters, and they’re both gone—Dick spilling hot and thick into your pussy, Jason unloading in your ass, their cum mixing with yours as you clench around them, shattering again.

You’re a wreck—screaming, shaking, cum oozing out of you as they keep thrusting through it, milking every last drop. Dick collapses first, pulling you down with him, his chest heaving as he buries his face in your neck, muttering your name like a prayer. Jason’s slower to let go, his cock still twitching as he pulls out, cum dripping down your thighs in a sticky, filthy mess.

“Jesus fuck,” Jason breathes, slumping beside you, his hand resting on your ass like he’s not ready to stop touching you. Dick’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close, and for a moment, it’s just the three of you—panting, wrecked, tangled in the aftermath.

“You’re did well,” Dick murmurs, his voice soft, lips brushing your skin.

“Damn right, good girl.” Jason adds, his fingers tracing the bruises they’ve left.

And as you lie there, fucked-out and sweaty, between their body.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

Want the kind of sibling relationship where me and my sister could be hanging out all normal and platonically, then one of us gets turned on randomly, and we just casually fuck each others brains out then go back to hanging out like nothing happened. You felt a tingle in your cunt sis? Here let big brother scratch that itch for you real quick, then back to building the base in our shared Minecraft world.

The need to pet a pretty little boy's head and coo about how handsome and cute he is while he turns redder and redder ♡♡

Windmills at Haaldersbroek, Zaandam by Claude Monet (1840 - 1926)

Claude Monet

Feeling lonely one day, you decide to make an account on a hookup app. You scroll through accounts, mildly amused at the pickings, until you stumble across one. The woman's profile doesn't feature her face, but the picture shows a woman wearing a dress — and a necklace — that you recognize immediately. Even the style of photo is familiar. It's not mystique the photographer was going for — she literally doesn't know how to keep her face in frame. It's your mother, wearing a dress she only wears when going on a date, and a necklace you bought her for Christmas.

You think about your mother having a hookup account for days. You think back and forth to yourself, should you message it and see what she says? Should you... try to meet up with her? Wouldn't it be funny? You imagine the look on her face and her flustered voice when she shows up to hook up with someone and it's you. One night, after partying with some friends, and getting cross faded enough to make some bad decisions, you do it. You match with her and send her a quick "Hey~ heard you're looking for a young girl to have fun with."

She answers a few hours later, just as sleep is about to take you. "Hi... you're into older women?" She replies. "Oh yeah. I can't get enough of cougars." You respond. You two have a bit of a friendly back and forth for a while, playfully flirting among some small talk to break the ice. Without giving away too much information, you talk about yourself. Everything she tells you, however, is something you already know.

When the time comes for her to ask for a photo of you, you quickly pull down your shirt and squeeze your tits together, taking a low angle shot with your plump lips the only part of your face shown, parted in an attempt to look sexy despite barely being able to see straight.

"You're so cute. I almost feel bad for what i want to do to you" she says. "When can we meet up?" Nerves are not an issue. Courage is not an issue. Self control is and right now it isn't in the room with you. "Is tonight too late?" There's a pause, with the *is typing* message on the screen. Finally, it reads "Unfortunately, yes. But... can we meet tomorrow? I want you."

You decide to borrow one of your friend's clothes, since you figure she knows your outfits and tastes by now. Well, most of your tastes anyway. If you dress like your friend, she might not catch on until it's too late. You do your makeup differently, going through efforts you normally wouldn't. You tie your hair differently. Capping it off with a face mask, you head to the meeting spot.

She approaches you, double checking it's you from the hookup app. You push your voice lower than normal to obfuscate, easily done since your throat is dry from last night. After the meet up is confirmed, you head to a hotel with her. The moment you two get into the room reserved for the night, she all but tears off your face mask and grabs your face in her hands before making out with you aggressively, sliding her tongue down your throat and trying to pull off your clothes. You go along with it, surprised at how strong she is compared to what you know of her at home.

She pushes you onto the bed and all but tears your pants off of your legs, your panties almost becoming a casualty of her hunger as she gets to work eating you out. It's rough and inelegant, she clearly doesn't have that much experience muff diving. That's okay; you put your hands in her hair and guide her head until her nose is rubbing against your clit, her tongue thrashing eagerly in and out of your dripping wet hole. When she comes up for air she puts two slim, smooth fingers inside, fingerfucking you so well you can't help but moan for her. What she lacks in oral skill she more than makes up for in her dexterity — her fingers reach deeper, more turn-on spots inside you than your own do and your body becomes a quaking less for her.

As you come, you drop your guard and say "Fuck...! Yes, Mommy!" At the top of your lungs, only for her to answer not with the name you gave her in the text conversation, but with your own, actual name. You stare at her in shock as she straddles your thigh, pressing your clits together and scissoring with you. "When did you...?" You moan and throw your head back, barely able to finish your sentence.

"You think I wouldn't recognize my own daughter's tits? The ones I made?" She laughs, a laugh more mean than you're used to but fuck if it doesn't make you almost come again right then and there. "The same tits I've been fucking myself thinking about for years? I've held back for so long around you, and you just offer yourself to me. Of course I'm gonna eat you right up. You asked for it." That pushes you over, and you cum, shuddering and shaking as you do.

The rest of the day is a blur of being used by your mother, hazy recollections of you moaning and mewling for her to make you cum again and again and again. She doesn't let you rest for a moment, and watching her cum only makes you want to do more to please her. To be a good girl and earn her cum and to be able to taste more of the sweet nectar from her pussy. She makes you taste your own, sometimes mixing the two. She makes you call her Mommy like you're a child all over again. It's only when it's time to check out that she reluctantly puts her clothes back on, or at least the minimum to be considered decent.

"We're continuing this when we get home, little girl." She says with a wink, dragging you out of the hotel room.