
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4221717.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Meulin_Leijon/Kurloz_Makara
  Character:
      Meulin_Leijon, Kurloz_Makara, Grand_Highblood, Gamzee_Makara
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Blackmail, Emotional_Abuse, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be_Added
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-27 Chapters: 1/? Words: 1691
****** Cornered ******
by CwnAnnwn
Summary
     He’d admired his eldest son’s girlfriend from afar before. A small
     girl, she boasted inciting curves and had quickly filled out in all
     of the right places. Kurloz didn’t often have her over-or anyone,
     really-but when he did, Meulin was always smiling, laughing, and
     being a very affectionate person.
     Her concept of personal space was practically nonexistent, but Kurloz
     never complained. Of course he didn’t. Who’d complain about a girl
     like that getting so close?
Notes
     What the fuck. Why the fuck did I write this. This is fucked up.
See the end of the work for more notes
The first time, they’d come over to watch a late-night movie. There was a
little alcohol involved, and a few substances of questionable legality, and so
it was decided that nobody would be leaving that night; for everyone’s safety,
they would all be staying at the Makaras. Kurloz insisted that his dad wouldn’t
care.
He was wrong; Mr. Makara did care. But not quite in the way that everyone would
expect.
 
After the movie had ended and everyone else had gone to sleep, Meulin came
downstairs to get a glass of water. When Mr. Makara heard someone moving
around, he came to investigate, but upon seeing who it was, stopped and waited
in the shadows. Only when he knew that she had no idea he was there did he make
himself known.
He’d admired his eldest son’s girlfriend from afar before. A small girl, she
boasted inciting curves and had quickly filled out in all of the right places.
Kurloz didn’t often have her over-or anyone, really-but when he did, Meulin was
always smiling, laughing, and being a very affectionate person.
Her concept of personal space was practically nonexistent, but Kurloz never
complained. Of course he didn’t. Who’d complain about a girl like that getting
so close?
He coughed lightly. Meulin jumped.
“Oh!” she laughed softly, laying a hand on her chest-atop her generous chest-
when she realized who it was. “Mr. Makara, you startled me.”
He chuckled, reaching for the thermostat in the hallway so that this level of
the house would cool down. The TV room upstairs would be unaffected; nobody
would be woken up by a chill to interrupt what was about to happen. He then
walked into the kitchen.
“Here,” he said, taking the glass from her; it was still empty. He used his
incredibly tall and broad stature to herd her closer to the refrigerator, where
he reached around her to open the door. The cold air caused her to tense and
shiver; he grabbed the pitcher from the top shelf, but he cut his eyes down to
see how the light illuminated the front of her shirt. Her pajamas came with no
bra-her taut nipples could be seen.
He let the refrigerator shut and poured her water.
Then, he backed off. Just for a minute, just to let her get comfortable again.
“You know, Miss Leijon,” he said before she could excuse herself, “My son is
very lucky to have a girl as pretty as you for his girlfriend.”
Meulin giggled. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Makara,” she said.
“You two must be very happy together.”
“We are. Kurloz is so sweet! And, uh, handsome…” she bowed her head at the last
part, but a smile was easily detected on her face.
“You don’t have to tell me things about my son, Miss Leijon.”
“Ah, you can call me Meulin,” she said.
“Meulin. But he must have to pry the boys off of you when you go out, hm?”
“Oh, no!” Meulin laughed. Was it a nervous thing? “No, and besides, I… uh…”
“You only have eyes for him?” Mr. Makara supplied. Meulin nodded.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I seem to notice that he is very much into you.”
“O-oh. Really?” Meulin blushed, sipping her water. It hadn’t been a very big
glass to begin with, and since she had been taking sips in between almost
everything she said, she was nearly out. Mr. Makara recognized his window
growing smaller.
“Put that in the sink, would you?” he said, standing. The sink was on Meulin’s
other side, so he quickly stepped around behind her. She could sense him, but
couldn’t turn around because of his size.
“I have one more question for you, Miss Leijon. Meulin.”
Her breathing was louder, now. Her heart rate quickened. Despite the amount of
water she’d just had, her throat was dry, but she managed to say, “Yes?”
“Do you love my son? Really?”
She exhaled strongly. Words came a little easier to her. “Yes.” Maybe that
would be the end of it.
Mr. Makara let his hand stroke down her hair once before grabbing a handful and
yanking, clamping a large, muscular hand over her mouth as he did so. Her eyes
were wide now, wide and verdant. Panicked, they searched his face as he leaned
into her field of vision.
“Then you’re going to want to keep quiet for this next part,” he hissed.
“Understand?”
Her head twitched in what might’ve been a “yes”. He slowly let go of her hair,
moving his now free hand to her front so that he could fondle her breast. That
large, muscular hand was rough, squeezing and kneading at her, then getting to
her nipple, which he pinched, hard.
She tried to squirm away, but her small body was no match for his large frame
paired with his incredibly well-built physique. She was helpless.
He hissed again, “Walk,” which she did. He did not need to command her; if she
tried to get away, he would simply force her. Mr. Makara directed her down a
long, dark hallway. As far as the house went, the room where they were going
was as far away from the TV room as possible. He whispered in her ear the whole
time; “What would your friends think if they caught us? You, in a
verycompromising position with your boyfriend’s father? You’d better keep
quiet, or we’ll find out.”
By the time they got there, a dark bedroom with a dark bed, Meulin’s face was
well-soaked with tears. Mr. Makara pushed her onto her back on the bed. She
began begging.
“Please-” Her words were drowned out by her own sobs and gasps, “I never—saving
for—first time—saving-”
“You were saving yourself for my son? I’m surprised he hasn’t torn into you
already. Such a stupid boy, wasting… not taking advantage of this.” He ran his
hand up her leg to the waistband of her pajama shorts, hooking his fingers in
down beneath her panties, far enough that he could just brush up against her,
before yanking both shorts and panties down to her ankles. He slipped them off
of one leg. Then, he moved to her shirt, pushing it up past her chin so that
the neck would wrap around her mouth like a gag. It left her completely exposed
to him.
She shook, trembled, tears rolling onto the bedcovers. He unzipped his pants,
undid his belt, and pulled out his cock. Even with the poor lighting in the
room, she could tell he had length, but more frighteningly, he had incredible
girth. And from the way he was eyeing her, she knew he planned on putting every
inch inside of her.
The begging began anew, nonsense behind her gag. He scoffed.
“What did I tell you about keeping quiet?” But she kept up.
He pulled out a bottle of lube and put a small amount on his cock, lubing
himself up. “I won’t go in completely dry,” he said, “Don’t want to cause too
much damage.” He wiped the excess lube on her exposed stomach. She shirked
away. “What,” he said, leaning over her, “You wanna get me slick some other
way? Maybe suck me off?” He looked at her mouth, as if he just remembered her
gag, and sneered. “Next time, then.”
He stood a little straighter, lined himself up, and without any other preamble
save for firmly pressing his hand over her mouth, shoved as much as he could
fit inside of her in the first thrust.
She screamed. Behind his hand and her shirt, she shrieked.
He aimed to go deeper with every thrust, until he was completely inside of her.
As he rocked her, slammed into her, drawing out every pained noise she could
make, he talked.
“I can’t believe my stupid son never took what was right in front of him. It
was so easy, so incredibly easy to just take you. Just.” He rammed his hips to
her. “Like.” Another, stronger push. “This!”
That thrust put him over a threshold; he could feel himself getting close. As
he mercilessly drilled her, he really noticed the erratic, mesmerizing bounce
of her breasts, and took one in each hand. How he’d love to have more time, to
truly exploit her body, but not tonight. Instead, he continued to slam her, the
sound of flesh on wet flesh making slapand schlicknoises, and he felt the
pressure of her inner walls moving, pushing back with such a heat as she tried,
meekly now, to squirm away.
His last few thrusts were like pistons until she could feel his impossible
girth grow, twitching against her, inside of her, as the friction abused her
walls. Something hot seemed to fill her as he moaned, finally coming to a stop
and sliding out of her.
Quickly following his cock was a small, steady flow of his come. It oozed from
inside of her and made a puddle on the bed. He admired his handiwork for a
moment before turning to rummage through a drawer. He tossed a box of emergency
contraception pills at her.
Meulin was just now sitting up and pulling her shirt back down.
“You’re going to want to take those,” he said, “and keep the rest. You’ll need
them.”
Meulin had tears running down her cheeks; she had yet to cry herself out.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Mr. Makara said. “You remember; consider how your
friends would think of you if they knew that you just fucked your boyfriend’s
father? With them in the house? And if that’s not enough…” his eyes narrowed.
“Think of your little sister. She already spends enough time at home, alone,
waiting for you to come home from school every day. How would she be if you
never came back?”
By the time Meulin pulled her panties and shorts back on, Mr. Makara was
already in the shower. She took a dose of the emergency contraceptive, choking
it down and crying some more.
She’d been gone a while from the TV room, but she’d be gone a little longer
still.
End Notes
     That was fucked up. Writing that fucked me up.
     So why do I have more planned for this story?
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