⠀ NOTES ꜜ I tried something different and darker for kinktober which is different from what I usually write… also I didn't use the tags (list) for this fic because I know not all people read fics with themes like this so please read responsibly.

You’d known Rafe Cameron for years before anything changed. At first, it was just irritation- the way he chewed on the end of his glass when he thought no one noticed and the way he filled a room without asking. He’d been in your life since… You don’t even know. He was married to your mom within months of moving into his house and you’d spent those first few years trying to keep your distance. It’s not because you don’t like him. He’s good, you think. He’s already settled in life and has work and whatever shit keeps him up at night. That’s the thing about being old, right? But one thing is for sure, you hate the smell of the whiskey he drinks and the sound of the ice and glass clinking whenever he pours the liquor there. Not that you can still witness that since time passed anyway. College took you away and suddenly years had stacked up without you noticing. You’d come back on breaks but something about this visit was different.

He looked different. The defined edge of his jaw hadn’t dulled but there were streaks of silver hidden in his dark hair now. It was just enough to catch your attention when the light hit. He wasn’t softer with age, not really. If anything his shoulders had thickened and his arms were heavier under rolled sleeves while his thighs still stretched wide across the couch when he sank into it at night. He wore his years like weight that settled deeper into himself. The drinking was the same. Some nights you’d hear the study door click shut after dinner and you knew exactly what he was doing in there. A bottle was pulled from the cabinet and the glass was filled halfway while the sound of him pacing came before the chair creaked under his weight. He never came out the same as he went in.

Hair mussed from raking his hand through it too many times and his shirt unbuttoned with eyes heavy-lidded but intense in ways you couldn’t stand to look at for too long. Other nights he stayed in the living room with the television filling the room with the sounds that are enough to be quiet and for him to hear while he’s sprawled across the couch. His long legs are spread out as the outline of his thighs pulls at the fabric of his pants. Never forget how his glass is always close to him and placed on the coffee table in front of the couch. It’s half empty while his fingers curled loosely around the armrest like he’s too tired to give a fuck if he looks messed up right now. He never looked your way when you passed through but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. The looseness of his tie and the way his shirt gaped open at his chest while the deep muscle groove showed when his forearm flexed as he lifted the glass again.

The first year it’s nothing. Just him always coming home the same way. The keys will be loud when he puts them down on the counter. The scrape of his shoes being kicked made a thud sound. Then don’t forget the chime of the ice when it’s put inside the glass along with the strong smell of the whiskey that drifts out whenever he is before he even settles down on the couch. Of course, at first it’s all just something that you learn to tolerate because well, maybe he’s like that because he’s tired and alcoholic. You learned to tune it out as something that happened after a late night when your mother didn’t pay attention to him.

You’d pass by and maybe catch him loosening his tie with that first sip. His eyes glazed not from being gone but from being half somewhere else already. You really tried to make it just noticing his behaviors until it wasn’t. By the third it’s routine. Every time you saw him like that- spread out and worn down with his mouth touching the rim of his glass and you’d also find yourself heading upstairs quicker than you meant to. The lock on your door clicked shut. Your clothes came off and your hand slipped under the waistband of your shorts before you could even think.

It was pathetic how fast your body responded to the thought of him and how wet you got just from replaying the image of his legs wide on the couch or the slope of his throat when he tipped his glass back. You couldn’t forget the first time you used your vibrator and masturbated to the thought of him. You told yourself that you just needed stress relief, but it didn’t stop there. Joke's on you for even thinking that that will be the only thing you’ll do. It became a pattern. One glimpse of him in the hall with his buttons undone and you were on your bed minutes later. The vibrator pressed against your clit while you moaned into your pillow so no one would hear. You hated yourself for it but that didn’t stop the way your hips bucked or the way your hand shook when you pushed your fingers inside. The shame almost made it worse. It made it hotter. It was wrong, so wrong, and still you couldn’t resist.

Sometimes you’d come down after with your hair messy and your body still trembling and you’d find him still in the living room. He’d glance your way with eyes heavy from liquor and say something casual like, “Grabbed something to eat?” as if he had no idea what you’d been doing upstairs because of him. You’d nod and maybe mutter, “Yeah,” before slipping into the kitchen with your heart racing like he could smell the slick still wet on your thighs. By the fifth year, it’s an obsession. You wait for him to come home. You wait for the sound of the bottle cap twisting off. Your thighs clench the second you hear ice crack in the glass. Sometimes you whisper into the pillow when you come. You muffle it so hard your lips go numb while “Fuck- fuck, please-” spills out as if he could hear and as if he’d know.

It goes on like that for years. It gets worse every time you come home for a vacation. The house feels smaller somehow but he looks bigger. His body got more muscle and broader and the way his tie looks when he just came from work? Oh, it’s loose like someone pulled them and honestly it looks like he just had sex if he comes home like that. The big difference is his hair now grows more salt and pepper which wasn’t even there way back many vacations before. It isn’t obvious unless you stare but you do. Your eyes always find their way towards him and it’s longer than it should be. You can remember the one time you’re curled up on the couch at night when he comes home later than usual. As expected, he already smells like whiskey before he even sits. He drops beside you with a grunt. The glass is in his hand again but he doesn’t notice how your eyes flick to his throat while you watch the bob of it as he swallows.

“You don’t usually stay up this late,” he mutters as he slumps back. You pretend to look at your phone when you shrug at his words and pretend that you couldn’t feel the heat building in your stomach. “Couldn’t sleep.” His laugh is rough and tired. “Wish I had that problem.” He tips the glass back and then sets it on the table with a clink. Something twists in your stomach. You remember nights spent biting into pillows and whispering for him under your breath all while he sat just below you in this same living room drinking the same bottle. You shift your thighs while pressing them together. He doesn’t look at you but his voice is quieter when he asks, “You alright?” Your throat feels tight. “Yeah. Just… hot in here.” He hums with his head tipping back against the couch and his eyes closed. The dim light makes the lines of his face look fine and older. His jaw has a shadow now not just from the stubble but from time. You can’t stop staring.

The silence continues while you wet your lips. Your words slip out before you can stop them, “Do you drink every night?” He immediately opens his eyes quickly after you finish your question and there’s a smirk forming in his mouth. “Not every night. Just… most nights.” You shift again trying not to look as restless as you feel. “Does it even help?” You ask like it matters. “Helps me forget the day,” he says with his voice low. Then he glances at you while studying your face like he’s only now realizing how grown you are. “Why? You worried about me or something?” Your chest tightens. A stupid little thrill runs through you. You laugh it off but it comes out breathier than you meant. “Well.” His head shakes while he chuckles, but you couldn’t read the way he looks at you and you couldn’t figure out what he’s thinking. Whatever he’s doing defines something in your stomach especially with the way you can feel it knot tighter.

Later when you finally go upstairs the door clicks shut behind you. The vibrator hums in your hand before you even hit the bed. Every flick of your wrist has his voice echoing in your head- “Wish I had that problem… You worried about me or something?” -burning hot and wrong yet so good you cannot stop. Your breath stutters out harsh and shaky while words tumble against the pillow. “Oh god, oh fuck- please-” You squeeze your eyes shut and your thighs tremble as you think the image of him sitting downstairs with a drink while you are up here falling apart over him. It’s always like that because after a few nights, he was out again. Just passed out on the couch with one arm hanging off the side. The bottle on the table still had some left and the glass was tilted like it might fall but it never did. His chest moved slowly in that kind of sleep people get when they’ve had too much to drink. You got used to it a long time ago. It’s always quiet and the room still smells like last night. The way he sometimes muttered half-words before drifting deeper.

It was almost routine at this point- taking the folded blanket from the armrest and tugging it over his shoulders while pretending you weren’t the one doing it. That it was your mom. That he did not know the difference. “Always leaving you like this,” you whispered under your breath, more to the room than to him. Fingers brushed his arm when you leaned closer. Warm skin. He was never cold no matter how long he had been out. Something about the heat of him made your pulse quicken though you told yourself it was nothing. You just wanted to check he was breathing steady. You just wanted to… feel. That night you let your hand linger. You pressed against the solid weight of his arm before gliding a little lower over his chest. The rise and fall was slow and rhythmic yet the shape of his body beneath your touch made you hesitate.

It was not supposed to be like this but your hand did not pull away. Your breath caught as you dragged your palm over the thin fabric of his shirt. His body was so still and the fact that he did not stir only made you braver. Before you knew it you were sliding lower. Past his stomach. Hovering there. “Just… just once,” you murmured as if that excused it. Your hand ghosted down until it cupped him through his pants. The heat was there but nothing else. Not even a twitch. You rubbed carefully, almost apologetically, while waiting for a shift or a sign. Nothing. His cock stayed soft against your hand, limp and unresponsive no matter how you moved your palm. A shaky little sound left your throat - half frustration and half relief.

You pulled back quickly like the moment might snap and catch you if you stayed too long. But it did not stop you. The second time was a week later and he was in the same spot again. His head was tipped back and his mouth hung open while he snored softly. The bottle was almost empty this time. You pulled the blanket over him again and tried to walk away but your chest went tight the way it always does. The temptation was right there. “Just checking,” you whispered, though the lie felt weaker now. Fingers slid down his stomach and under the hem of his shirt. Skin was hot and smooth while your breath quickened as you trailed lower. When your hand wrapped over his cock again it was still the same. Warm and soft yet not rising for you. You rubbed harder this time and gave him more friction while hoping maybe something would happen.

The shape of him moved under your grip but it never stiffened. “Why won’t you-” you muttered but stopped yourself as your voice came out too loud in the silence and all you heard was his heavy breathing while frustration prickled your skin as you pulled back. By the third time, it was not even about courage anymore. It was about the question eating you alive. Why did he never get hard? He was not old. He was not broken. You could not stop replaying it and you could not stop sneaking touches while he was out cold. But every time his cock stayed useless in your hand. That night you sat in your room with your phone glowing in the dark. You typed it out with shaky fingers. Why does someone drunk not get hard? Search results filled the screen and one term stuck out. Whiskey dick. You read every word while your heart hammered louder the further you scrolled. Drinking too much. Can’t stay hard. Can’t even get hard. You whispered it aloud to yourself and the words sound strange on your tongue. “Whiskey dick.”

It explained everything. The reason your quiet little touches never woke him. The reason he did not react no matter how long your hand lingered. The reason you could get away with it. And it made your stomach twist in a new dangerous way yet you tried distracting yourself after that. Like staying in your friend’s house or coming home late and it was one of those nights. You smell like salt water and cheap vodka when you get home and your hair’s still cold from the beach air. The slippers you’re wearing hit the floor loudly when you push the door open and it kinda echoes around the place like it’s mocking you or something. The light from the living room leaks into the hall and of course, he’s there again sitting on the couch with a drink like he never moved. The bottle’s half gone sitting on the table like always and you don’t even know why that still pisses you off when you knew it’d be like this. The light caught it just right so it looked gold for a second. He looked like he had not moved in hours. Work clothes still on but only the tie discarded while his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

He looks up slowly when you walk in and his eyes go straight to the bikini top still sticking to your skin. “Where the hell have you been?” His voice was rough as hell like the liquor still sitting in his throat. “Didn’t hear you come in earlier.” You shove your shorts off and try not to think about how he’s looking again. “Out with friends. Beach thing.” It comes out lazy like you couldn’t even bother to make it sound real. “Beach thing huh?” He leans back and the ice hits the glass when he moves it. “What does that even mean you're out there half naked like that all night?” Your neck starts burning and you drop your bag by the stairs pretending you’re looking for your phone even though it’s right there in your damn pocket. “It’s a beach. Everyone’s half-naked.” Sarcasm runs easily from your mouth like it’s a habit.

“Not the same,” he mutters as he tips his glass back until his throat moves with the swallow. “You don’t get it.” The couch groans when he shifts while stretching his legs out so they almost block your path. He doesn’t move them but he just looks up at you like he’s waiting for something. You try to step around yet he smirks. “You’re not even sunburned,” he says while his eyes drag slowly over your chest. “Don’t look like you went in the water at all. Just sat there lettin’ boys stare.” A playful laugh slips out of you. “Why are you so nosy tonight?” It’s making you annoyed because he’s pushing it like a nagging dog. “’Cause I know how guys think,” he shoots back while his tone stays rough but steady. “And I don’t like the thought of you lettin’ them look at what you shouldn’t even be showin’.” Your stomach tightens. He’s drunk maybe too drunk yet there’s a strange focus in his eyes. Like he’s fighting something inside himself and losing.

“You’re drunk.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah,” he admits without hesitation. He sets the glass down then leans forward now with his elbows on his knees. “Still seein’ straight though. Don’t need much to notice when you’re trying too hard to be grown.” The words sting but there’s something under them too something darker. Your pulse stutters. You tilt your head while meeting his stare without flinching. “So what if I am?” His jaw flexes. The silence stays for a while and it feels heavy between you. The fridge makes a low sound in the back and the couch creaks a bit when he finally moves. He drags a hand down his face while he lets out a breath through his nose. When he talks again his voice is lower now and it’s not really a command but it’s not a question either. “Come here a sec.”

Your body stills because every nerve is wired. The air feels heavier while the distance between you and him feels thinner than it should be. So you did. You sat down not too close and not too far with your legs pulled in tight. The whiskey hits first before you even drink it. It just climbs straight up your nose and burns a bit which gets you thinking this shit’s gonna kill you. He doesn’t even wait when he shoves the glass in your hand like he’s encouraging you to take it. “Drink,” is all he says and his voice is fucked up like he hasn’t slept in a week or smoking through his feelings or both who even knows at this point? The glass tilts in your hand while the dark liquid catches the light. You almost laugh at the absurdity of it but his eyes slide toward you then red at the rims but steady and watching to see what you’d do. You raise it just enough to wet your lips. The taste burns all the way down. “There you go,” he mutters while leaning back deeper into the couch.

“Not so bad.” Everything goes quiet for a bit like the room forgot how to breathe and the small clink from the bottle breaks that. He’s still staring though and he looks like he’s trying to read your whole life off your face before his lips form a smirk as if he just figured out something stupid. “Fuck,” he breathes out while his head tips lazily against the cushion. “Your tits got bigger.” Heat punches low in your stomach so fast it makes your thighs clench. You stiffen while your fingers squeeze the glass too tightly as you try to play it off like you didn’t hear. “What?” Your voice cracks on the word. His eyes drag down bold and slow until they stop right where the bikini top cuts across your chest. He let out a short laugh under his breath like he couldn’t help it. “Don’t act like you didn’t hear me.” His tongue ran over his bottom lip when he said, “They didn’t look like that last summer.”

You could feel your face getting hot under his stare and moving in your seat only made it worse because the hem of your shorts slid up higher on your thighs. You will yourself not to squirm or to move closer or to give him the satisfaction. Still, it’s impossible to ignore the way his knee brushes against yours when he shifts casually but heavy enough to linger. His hand lifts like he might reach yet he only rubs at his jaw while his thumb smears across the rough stubble. The glass still sweats in his hand when he says it half laughing in his throat the kind that makes you feel both exposed and challenged. “You trying not to sit in my lap?” His smile slants lazy and mocking. “’Cause you keep lookin’ like you wanna.” Your stomach twists hot and you hate how quickly your body leans toward him. Your tongue pushes forward instead of flinching away.

“I don’t wanna sit anywhere near you when you drink like that,” you murmur while your eyes flick to the half-empty bottle on the table. You add a little roll of your eyes just to keep his attention locked. “You always come home like this. Smells like a bar.” He lets out a rough sound that isn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah? And you still hang around don’t you?” His gaze drags down your bare legs slowly enough to make your pulse spike. “So what’s that say about you?” Your chest gets hot too fast, and you don’t even know if you feel shy or excited. You move on the couch like you try to relax, but move closer to his knee on purpose. “I’m not like those girls who run after you,” you say and you don’t know why your voice is not shaking.

“I don’t need some drunk dad type to notice me.” That actually makes him laugh and it’s a real one that comes from deep in his chest so it hits you harder than it should. His eyes catch the light and his mouth twitches while he lifts his glass for another sip. “You don’t need it huh but you’re sitting here talking like you want me to believe that.” Your heartbeat feels loud enough to fill the room. His knee bumps yours when he moves and you don’t pull away. You lean in just enough for your hair to brush his shoulder and your voice drops low. “Maybe I just like messing with you. You’re easier when you’re drinking. You talk too much.” The way his mouth twitches slowly and meanly tells you he isn’t missing what you’re doing. He sets the glass down hard while the sound hits louder against the table and his hand finally moves. His fingers graze the inside of your thigh like it’s an accident though the weight behind it says otherwise.

Your thighs buzz where his fingers graze. The touch is light but heavy enough to keep you from breathing right. The smirk still lingers on his mouth looks teasing now as if he’s testing you. “You trying not to sit in my lap?” he mutters again with his voice low and thick with liquor. “’Cause the way you keep squirming around… looks like you want to.” Heat crawls up your neck. Instead of answering you shift closer while letting your knee brush his. His brows lifted and that smirk got wider as you swung a leg over his thighs and sat down like you’d been waiting for it all night. He let out a sound that wasn’t really a laugh but not a curse either and it rumbled out of his chest anyway. “Jesus Christ.” His hands don’t shove you off though. They land on your hips while his rough palms anchor you there holding you steady against the spread of his thighs.

The smell of whiskey clung bitterly between you both and it burned your nose as you leaned in. The seat of your shorts pressed to his lap while the soft weight underneath gave you a thrill you shouldn’t have enjoyed. It wasn’t what you expected. Not firm or urgent yet that made it worse somehow. Sick and hot the idea of sitting there and getting off while he couldn’t do a thing about it. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” he said with his voice gruff in your ear. His thumbs rubbed absent circles into your sides like he didn’t know if he wanted to push you off or pull you down harder. A shaky little laugh left you when your hips rolled forward as you ground just enough to feel him shift beneath the thin layers of fabric. “Looks like I do.”

His grip tightened and the breath that pushed out of him was heavy and annoyed but his body didn’t move you away. “You’re fuckin’ insane. Sitting here like this… what the hell are you thinking?” Your lips drag on his jaw when you lean in really close and whisper right on his skin. “Thinking about how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He freezes for a moment and everything goes quiet so hard you can even hear the fridge making noise in the back. Then he swears again and it sounds rough like he’s about to lose it. His hands slid lower while cupping your ass through the denim as if to test how far you’d take it. “You don’t even care what happens if someone walks in?” His mouth was at your temple now, hot and rough. “What if your mom saw you like this?” The mention makes your pussy pulse so strongly and you can’t even sit still at this point so you moved again on his lap without even thinking. You press down on him because the heat won't stop and it just gets worse.

“Then you’d have to explain why you didn’t stop me.” His jaw was so hard you could feel it on your cheek. His hand slapped your thigh and the sound was loud while your body jumped from it. Not hard but enough to make your breath catch. “You’re out of your goddamn mind,” he said yet his grip dragged you closer while pressing your cunt more firmly over the soft bulge beneath. The friction made your head spin. His cock stayed unresponsive under you. It felt heavy but useless and that only made you want more. The control was in your hands not his and it twisted your stomach in the dirtiest way. You ground down again slow and teasing this time while chasing the slick heat pooling between your thighs. “Don’t care. Just wanna feel you.” Your voice broke when you said it. “Fuck,” he groaned with his forehead tipping into your shoulder as if he couldn’t look at you.

“You don’t get it… it’s not fuckin’ useless right now.” Your laugh was breathless with your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Doesn’t matter. Still feels good.” The words made him stiffen beneath you but his hips lifted with the smallest push up into your grind. His cock stayed soft yet the weight shifted against your clit while giving you just enough pressure to whimper into his neck. “Goddamn little perv,” he muttered as he squeezed your ass hard enough to make you gasp. His voice was ragged and jagged with frustration. “Riding me like this when I can’t even shit-” Your nails dug into his shoulders while you rocked forward again and your cunt throbbed against the friction. “Don’t care,” you whispered with your lips parting on a shaky moan. “Just let me. Please, just let me.”

The rough grip on your ass only made you bolder. Denim dug into your skin while you rocked forward again and dragged the seam of your shorts over the bulge trapped beneath his pants. The weight of it shifted uselessly against you, soft but heavy while the heat pouring off his body had you clenching around nothing. His fingers press harder into your hips and it actually hurts a little but he keeps you there like he doesn’t want you to move even an inch. Your body just freezes for a second because of how strong his grip is. “You’re not supposed to be doing this,” he muttered with his voice thick and his jaw brushing against your temple. “This is fucked.” Breath hitched in your chest yet instead of stopping your hips rolled harder while chasing the press of fabric against your clit. The rub of denim only made it rougher and wetter. “Doesn’t feel like you want me to stop,” your lips grazed the stubble at his jaw when you whispered. The groan he made vibrated on your skin like he couldn’t even help to make a reaction to what you just said.

He shifts his grip before he moves his hand up to grab the side of your tit over the thin bikini top you are wearing. He needs to feel more of you right now because he couldn’t stand how little of you he’s having. The fabric did nothing to hide how hard your nipple had already gone and his thumb dragged slowly across it until your whole body jolted. “Little brat,” he muttered with his voice rough in your ear. “Climbin’ on me half-naked and grinding on my cock like I asked for it. You think I don’t notice how wet you are already?” The taunt made your pussy pulse harder. Your breath spilled out in a shaky moan while you pressed down harder on him. Your shorts rode up your thighs until the rough edge of the seam rubbed directly over your clit. “nngh, f-fuck- don’t say that.” He squeezed your tit harder with his thumb and finger pinching until your back arched into him. His laugh was low and humorless yet warm against your ear. “Don’t say what? That you’re drenching through these tiny little shorts just from rubbing on me?”

His words go straight to your face and make you feel hot. You still grind on him despite how he makes you feel embarrassed. While the heat coming between your thighs only burns more until you can feel the effect of it: soaking the thin part of your shorts. And… It’s horrible because the fabric sticks to your pussy and it shows how wet you are. You wanted more. You wanted skin against him instead of just denim. Your hand moves like it has its own mind to just do shit. You open the button of your shorts quickly enough and the metal button pops open before you pull the zipper halfway open. He stiffened under you while his hand caught your wrist halfway. “The fuck are you doing?” You gave him a look breathless and messy but grinning despite it. “Making it better.” His eyes narrowed like he wanted to stop you yet the hand on your wrist loosened. Instead, his other hand cupped the back of your neck with his rough palm hot against your skin while he held you close enough to feel the burn of whiskey in his breath.

“You’re fucking sick,” he muttered. “Mm, yeah,” you whispered while dragging the shorts down your thighs enough to free yourself. The waistband caught at your knees but you didn’t care. You pressed back down over the lump in his pants with only your soaked panties between you. The slick heat spread instantly as your cunt ground into the coarse fabric until you gasped into his throat. “Ahh-hahh, ffuck- see? Better.” You slip a profanity out of his mouth like it’s some trophy even though it sounds low and rough. His hands grabbed your ass again so he could just squeeze it hard enough to make it hurt while he pulled you closer against his lap. “You’re out of control. Rubbin’ that sloppy little cunt on me like this-” His words broke with a grunt when your hips rolled harder while smearing wetness over the crease of his zipper.

Your moans came out shameless and pitched higher every time your clit caught the ridge of his cockhead through his pants. “hhnn, nghh, nn-feels so good-” He groaned with his teeth grazing your shoulder before dragging lower and letting his lips catch the edge of your bikini strap. “You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he muttered while pulling it down far enough to expose the swell of your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple without warning and he sucked hard until you cried out while clawing at his shoulders. “Ahh! nn, ffuck-hahh, don’t-oh god-” Your voice broke while your hips jerked faster as he latched on harder. Heat rolled through you so thick it made your thighs tremble. He pulled off with a wet sound and his spit slicked the hard peak before he dragged his teeth over it. “You wanted this huh? Wanted me to grab you and squeeze you like this?”

His hand kneaded roughly into your tit until you whimpered. “Climb on me and grind your pussy till you can’t breathe?” Your head tipped back with your mouth open while your hair stuck to your damp skin. The sight of him looking up at you with lips wet from your nipple and his hand squeezing your ass like he owned it sent another rush of slick flooding into your panties. The soft weight under you didn’t change yet the pressure against your clit was everything. “Y-yeah,” you stammered through broken moans while your nails dragged across his shoulders. “Wanted it- fuck, always wanted it- ahhnn-” His eyes darkened at the confession and he cursed again with his voice gravelly and almost pained. “Goddamn slut.” His hands yanked at the denim still hanging around your thighs until he shoved it lower so it barely clung to your knees.

“Sitting up here like this- fuckin’ dripping all over me when I can’t even-” The words cut off when you pressed harder while grinding down slow and filthy over the thick shape in his pants. Wetness smeared into the fabric and his groan came guttural with his chest rising heavy against yours. His hands squeezed and dragged you tighter like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Your hand drifted lower while you still rolled your hips in his lap. You were greedy especially with the way his body reacts every time you grind on him. It feels like something you want to possess about. His waistband feels stiff in your palm like it’s been a long time since somebody else has touched it besides him. You tug it like you are testing the waters to see if he will be okay with it and he doesn't stop you when you repeat the action. His jaw feels tight while his eyes are still looking at you and he’s just ignoring how you play with the button and zipper to open them. The quiet rasp of it made him grunt low in his throat. “Really,” he muttered with his voice edged rough from drinking, “you think that’s a good idea?”

You smiled while pressing your chest to his so he felt the thin stretch of your bikini top against him. Your fingers dipped inside while brushing the heat of his skin. “It’s not an idea,” you whispered as you grazed his lips. “It’s what I want.” The corner of his mouth twitched like he was gonna say no but he didn’t. He leaned back against the couch and watched you with half-lidded eyes while you tugged at his waistband and gave him a look to help. “Go on,” you breathed. “Pull them down.” His hand stayed there for a second before he pushed his pants low enough for his cock to slip free. It was heavy and soft against his thigh. The sight made your stomach flip while you dragged your panties against him right away with the damp fabric brushing across the slack shaft. The friction was messy yet filthy in the way it smeared your wetness onto him.

“Haaah- nghh- look at that,” you moaned softly while grinding again with the gusset of your underwear dragging over his cockhead. His hand came up with his rough palm pressing into your hip to hold you closer. His fingers curled until they slipped under the strings of your bikini bottoms. He tugged just enough that the fabric pulled to the side so your cunt was bared with lips sticky and swollen right above him. “Fuckin’-” he groaned while staring between your thighs. His thumb stroked the edge of your slit with his knuckle brushing your clit before he pushed the fabric aside more. “You’re soaked,” he said as if it wasn’t obvious already. “Because of you,” you whined while rolling your hips harder. The soft slide of his cock against your folds made you gasp with slick dragging along the length. “nnh- mmphh- feels so nasty oh god-”

He grips your thigh with his thumb pressing into the tender inside of it while his other hand stays tangled with the strings of your bottoms. “Keep rubbin’ yourself on me like that and you’ll lose your fuckin’ mind before I even do anything.” You tilt your head against his shoulder with your mouth open as a shaky sound falls from your throat. The heat of his body and the musk of alcohol and the lazy way his cock lies under you but still makes every grind wetter and filthier all of it makes you dizzy. “Don’t stop,” you pant while your nails dig into his chest through his shirt. “I want you touching me while I do it-hnnghh, right there, don’t let go.” His breath shudders yet he smirks against your temple even though his jaw is tight. “You’re fuckin’ twisted,” he murmurs with his voice thick. His thumb presses against your slit as it slides between your folds while you keep grinding with your panties stretched to the side so your pussy drags bare over his cock.

The strings he tugged loose hang crooked on your hips while the fabric twists and catches between you. When you shift the thin panties rub against his thigh though they are already soaked through. He stares at the mess of it with his jaw working as he reaches down. “Lift up a little,” he mutters. His fingers hook the strings then pull them the rest of the way. He drags the fabric down your legs slowly until it slips free and ends up tossed on the couch beside you. His hand does not stop there. He works at the knot behind your back until the bikini bra loosens too while the straps slide off your shoulders. The cups fall forward and join the pile while your chest stays bare against him. You roll your hips again with your pussy pressing against the slack weight of his cock. It drags wetly over him as it makes both of you shudder.

“Rafe…” your voice breaks into a whimper, needy and breathless. “I wanna feel you… right here.” His lips twitched like he wanted to keep a straight face but couldn’t. “You’re already fuckin dripping all over me. What else do you need?” You guide your hand between your bodies while your fingers wrap around the soft heat of him. You lift his cock until the head nudges your slit. The squish of it sliding through your folds makes your breath catch. “Just the tip, okay? I don’t care if it’s soft. I want it inside me.” He stares at the way you press down on him if he cannot believe you are really doing it. “Jesus Christ.” His head tips back while his eyes close for a moment as if he is trying to block the sight. His hands still grip your thighs with his thumbs brushing along the sticky seam of your skin. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

You bite your lip while lining his cockhead up to your entrance. It does not push in smoothly like usual. The tip bends a little while squishing against your hole and the resistance makes your cunt throb even harder. You rub yourself there anyway while dragging him against the entrance until the blunt pressure has you whining. “Mmnnhh- fuck, please, Rafe. Feels so dirty like this.” He grunts while watching as you smear yourself along his tip. His hand drifts down with his rough fingers spreading your lips so his cockhead presses right against the pink swollen opening. “Look at you,” he mutters under his breath. “Tryna stuff yourself even when I’m not ready for you.” The words make your whole body pulse and you push again. This time harder. The head slips just a little while stretching your entrance before it slides back out because it will not stay. “Ahhnn- oh god, nghh- it went in a little- hnn- just a little.”

The sensation drags a high moan out of you. “Yeah, I fuckin’ saw,” he rasps with his thumb pressing against your clit as if he cannot stop himself. “You don’t quit, do you?” You grind down shamelessly while rubbing his tip back and forth over your hole as it keeps catching then slipping over and over. Each time it threatens to slide in your cunt clenches desperately around nothing. “Please- let me try again. Just wanna keep him inside me, I don’t care how.” Your voice cracks desperate and pervy while you rock your hips faster to prove it. Rafe’s breath grows heavier as his chest rises against yours. His cock twitches faintly under your grip. Not fully hard yet but reacting all the same. “You’re gonna ruin yourself on me before I even- fuckin’ hell.”

His words cut off into a groan when you angle yourself and push down again harder while forcing the tip to sink into your cunt for a second before it slips out with a wet pop. “Ahhnn! mmfhh- fuck, it’s so- so messy, nghh- I love it.” The more you rock on him the slicker it gets. Every grind spreads your mess down his shaft until it coats the soft length and glistens against your folds. It does not stay completely limp anymore. Half-hard now, heavy but with a slow firmness pushing back against your slit. Your body clenches around nothing desperate to keep him inside. When you shift forward the blunt head slides against your entrance again while catching and almost pushing through. “Ahhnn- Rafe, it’s going in easier now,” you pant while pressing harder with a needy whine. His grip on your hips tightens with his fingers digging into your skin. His jaw works like he wants to say something but does not. Only a rough exhale slips past his teeth.

You roll your hips again while dragging the swollen head along your slit. The stretch when it pokes in shallow makes your thighs tremble. You hold it there while shoving down until the tip stays lodged with your cunt fluttering around the thickness. “Oh fuck, nghh, it’s staying, it’s- ahh- it’s really staying in,” you babble with your nails scratching lightly down his chest as you ride the tip shallow. Rafe grunts while watching your slick drip down over him. His cock twitches harder. Half-hard now, thickening more with every grind. “You’re outta your fuckin’ mind. Look at you-” He groans when your pussy clenches down on the head again. “-stuffing yourself like that.” Your head tips back and your voice cracks as you moan. “Mmfhh, you don’t get it- I always wanted to do this. You’re always soft when you come home wasted.”

His eyes snap up at you quickly and his voice comes out rough. “The fuck you just say?” Heat crawls up your neck but you are too gone to stop yourself. “I-I touch you sometimes when you’re blacked out. Always so soft in my hand. I couldn’t help it, Rafe. I wanted it then, and I want it now.” The words land heavily. His hand shoots up to the back of your neck while dragging you close until his forehead presses to yours. His breath is harsh and full of disbelief yet his cock jerks harder under you while thickening more as you sink the tip inside again. “You’re fuckin’ sick,” he growls though his grip does not let go. “Messing with me when I’m out cold? You think that’s funny?” A shudder runs through you at his tone while your cunt tightens around the shallow stretch. “nnhh, not funny- hot. You don’t even know how much I thought about it.”

His chest heaves against yours with his cock swelling thicker between your folds now. Not fully hard but far from soft. He presses his hips up just enough so the head slips deeper for a heartbeat before sliding out again. “Goddamn it,” he groans. “You’re making me- fuck- hard off that shit.” Your pussy grinds down faster, greedy with wet sounds spilling from between you both. “Yesss- get hard for me, nghh- want it, want it so bad.” His cock keeps thickening though it never gets all the way. Heavy between your folds, fat but not stiff enough to hold itself. Only half-hard under the mess of your cunt grinding down. It twitches when you shift with the head dragging over your slit until it slips back inside for a second before sliding out again. A groan rumbles low from his chest, rough and annoyed yet threaded with heat.

His hand tightens at your hip holding you steady as you rock. “Christ,” he mutters with his jaw tight. “You’re makin’ me hard off that sick shit you just said.” The words make your stomach flip as you look down at where the blunt head presses against your folds glistening and swollen. Your hips roll forward and this time you do not stop. The tight squeeze makes you cry out while the half-hard cock pushes in stretching you inch by inch until you sink down and take all of him. “mmfh- Rafe-” Your thighs quake from how thick he feels even though soft around the edges. “I got it all in. Fuck I got it all the way in.” He tips his head back with a guttural groan and the sound scrapes out of his throat. His eyes snap open again as you grind down and for a moment he just stares at you while his jaw flexes.

“Look at you,” he growls with his voice rasping. “Stuffin’ yourself on a cock that can’t even get hard.” His palm slides up your side until it grabs your tit while rough fingers pinch your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. “You that desperate huh?” The sting forces your back to arch while your cunt clenches down tight around the half-stiff length. “Ahhnn- fuck- yesss. Bet it’s been so long since you had a pussy around your cock hasn’t it?” His eyes narrow while his lips curl into something between a snarl and a smirk. The grip on your nipple gets harder until your mouth falls open with a cry. “You really don’t know when to shut that filthy mouth,” he bites out but his hips jerk up from under you while grinding deeper into your soaked cunt.

Wet sounds fill the room as you rock against him while every push makes the swollen shaft slip deeper. Your nails drag down his chest and they leave faint scratches on his skin. His cock still is not hard enough to thrust the way it should but it fills you so heavily that every grind makes your head spin. You lean down with your forehead pressed to his while panting hard. “mmnn, nghh, you feel so thick like this. Even soft you’re stretching me out.” He breathes through his teeth as his nostrils flare. “Keep talkin’. See what else it makes me do.” His other hand grips your ass hard and drags you against him so your clit grinds over the base of his cock. “Fucking brat.” Your body jolts from the friction while a shiver runs down your spine.

“Aaahh- hahh- Rafe I’m gonna lose it- mm you don’t know how much I needed this.” The half-hard length twitches inside you again as it pulses against your walls while his grip tightens like he is trying to keep himself together. His eyes never leave yours as if he doesn’t want to miss any reaction you make while you ride him slowly and messily. Every word you say just makes him throb harder against the alcohol in his system. His palm clamps tighter around your right hip with his fingers digging deep into the soft skin. The grip makes it impossible to move the way you want so he forces your body to follow his rhythm. Every drag down is unbearably slow while every push up is controlled until his cockhead almost slips out before he presses you back down again. The half-hard length shifts inside you swollen and hot while rubbing your walls with a heavy drag. Your cunt grips greedily anyway as it takes everything even when he will not let you rush.

Rafe leans back against the couch with his chest rising slowly but heavily. His eyes lock on your face like he is watching every twitch. “You think I’m lettin’ you ride me sloppy?” His voice comes low with gravel dragging through his throat. “Nah. You move when I tell you to. You fuckin’ stay here.” His thumb strokes over your hipbone soft for a moment then he jerks you down an inch harder to prove his point. A muffled cry spills out of your lips while your nails curl into his shoulders. The stretch feels deeper this way as it splits you slowly on purpose. “mmhhn- Rafe-” You can barely breathe from how it feels. “Shut up.” His head tilts as his gaze hardens while his grip guides you into another agonizing grind. “You wanna make yourself useful? Open your mouth. Say the sick shit you think about.”

Your chest heaves as you try to steady your voice even while your body quivers from the deep drag of his cock inside. “I- mmhh-” The words stumble with a broken sound at the end. It makes you look so desperate when it gets out of your throat. “I think about- about this. You're coming home drunk and me just waiting to climb on your lap-” His eyes flash as he squeezes your hip until it stings. “Keep goin’.” The slow rise and fall make your cunt slick around him while obscene wet noises fill the room. Each time his cock shifts inside a shaky whimper escapes before you can stop it. You bite your lip but force the words out. “I imagine you’d sit here and let me do anything I want. Even when you’re soft I’d still put you in me.” Rafe grunts roughly and approves as his jaw flexes while he drags you down again.

“Yeah? You’d sit there and stuff my cock inside anyway? Say it clearly. Don’t fuckin’ whine.” Your nails scrape down his chest while your voice trembles as you try to speak steadily. “I’d sit on you soft or hard. Doesn’t matter. I’d take you every time you walk in the door just because I can.” The blunt pinch at your nipple comes suddenly and painfully so it makes you gasp. His lips twist in a smirk. “That’s better. That’s the way I want it.” His hips roll up once dragging his cock thick and sluggish through your soaked heat. His breath comes heavier while your walls squeeze down. You swallow a broken moan while your head drops to his shoulder. “Mmhhfhh- s-sorry I can’t stop the sounds-” Rafe’s laugh is low and rough in your ear. “Don’t. I like hearin’ how desperate you are. Keep spillin’ those dirty thoughts while I make you take me slow.”

His hand shifts from your hip to the curve of your ass as he pulls you down so your clit grinds hard against the base of his cock. “Say another one.” Your whole body jerks while sparks rush through your core. “Aaahhnn- hahh- s-sometimes I think about- fuck- I think about you bending me over the counter drunk with your cock half-soft just shoving it in until I cry for it.” His teeth grit as a curse slips out with his breath. “That’s fuckin’ sick,” he mutters though his eyes blaze darker while holding you there as your body writhes against him. His hand never loosens and he holds your hip steady so you cannot speed up no matter how badly you want to. Every push down is guided while every drag up is so slow it leaves your walls fluttering around him.

The half-hard thickness still fills you heavily as it stretches your cunt like he is forcing you to savor every inch. When his other hand slips between your thighs two fingers press down on your clit and rub in lazy circles. The drag is steady and not rushed so your whole body twitches. You shiver as you try to swallow the sound in your throat but a shaky moan breaks out anyway. “Quit hiding it,” Rafe mutters with his voice gravelly while his thumb tightens on your hipbone. “Say it. Say what’s in your head while I’m sittin’ inside you.” Your eyes squeeze shut while another roll of his fingers makes your stomach knot. “Nnhh- hahh- y-you’re… you’re big even when you’re soft,” you whisper as your words stutter around the needy little sounds that slip out. “Feels heavy. I can’t imagine how much- mmhh- how much bigger when you’re hard.”

The rough noise that leaves his throat sounds close to a growl. His fingers press harder against your clit while they drag a slow circle that makes your hips buck but his hold on your side forces you right back down on his cock. “Yeah? You think about my cock hard?” Your head tips forward against his chest while your breath comes hot and messy. “Mmfhh- hahh- sometimes I touch myself to it. When you come home from work and when you look so fucking ruined and go straight to your study to drink I lie in bed and finger myself until I can’t breathe.” His chest rumbles against your cheek as a curse spills out while his grip drags you down again. The shift makes your walls clutch tighter as they squeeze around the soft thick length buried in you. “Fuckin’- you’re serious? You sit there touchin’ yourself to me drunk?”

“Y-yes,” you breathe out with your voice breaking while your clit throbs under his slow rubbing. “You don’t even know… I watch you sometimes. You’re still in your work clothes with your tie loose and your eyes look tired and I think about- mmhhnn- crawling under your desk and sucking your cock till you can’t even hold the glass.” Rafe groans as his head falls back against the couch while his hand spreads across your ass to shove you deeper onto his cock. “You’re fuckin’ sick. You know that?” A shaky laugh escapes you mixed with a needy gasp as your clit throbs against his circling fingers. “nnhh- I don’t care. I think about you more when you’re messy… like tonight… like you’re mine to use.”

His lips curl into a dark grin and he pinches your clit between two fingers just to hear your broken whimper. “Keep talkin’, baby. I wanna hear every filthy little thought while I keep you right here on my cock.” His thumb drags slowly and steadily across your clit and he never gives you more than what he wants. Each roll of your hips grinds his half-hard cock deeper inside and the weight of him fills you just enough to leave you trembling for more. He does not speed up and he does not let you ride the way your body aches for. It is all his rhythm and you are forced to take it. “Keep talkin’,” he says with his voice thick and rough in your ear. His hand squeezes the curve of your waist like a warning. “Don’t stop now. I know you got more filth sittin’ in that pretty head.” Your breath stutters as another pulse of pleasure sparks under his fingers.

The words slip out shaky yet honest. “I-I even buy things sometimes. Bras panties little sets. Lingerie. Like… like I’m married to you.” The low sound he makes vibrates against your back. It is half a laugh and half a groan. “Married to me huh? You’re sittin’ here on my cock thinkin’ like a fuckin’ wife.” His hand pushes you down harder so your walls hug his cockhead. “Tell me what you do with that shit once you buy it.” Heat crawls up your neck while shame and thrill mix until it is impossible to pull them apart. “I take pictures,” you whisper then gasp when his fingers rub harder at your clit. “I put them on. Pose in front of the mirror. Sometimes I send them.” Rafe’s head tips forward while his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Send them? To whom?” Your thighs shake as the question lands heavy. It takes a second to answer while your hips roll helplessly under his control.

“Older guys. Online.” The words tremble as you force them out. “They… they tell me things. That I look like a doll. That they’d ruin me if they had the chance.” The hand at your hip tightens until you feel the press of his fingers deep in your skin. His cock twitches softly inside you as it is a heavy pulse against your walls. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You’re sittin’ in some old man’s inbox showin’ him my girl in lace?” You nod quickly even though your voice breaks around a moan when his thumb circles your clit again. “Mmfhh- hahh- I just wanted attention. They say the things I wanted you to say. I thought if you saw me that way- nnhhnn- that you’d never look at me.” Rafe grinds you down slowly so you feel every drag of his cockhead inside. His lips brush your jaw while hot breath spills across your skin. “You’re tellin’ me you get wet lettin’ strangers see what’s mine? That’s how fuckin’ desperate you are for me to notice?”

Your head landed heavily on his shoulder and your eyes flutter shut while your pussy squeezes around him. “Y-yes,” your whimper sounds broken and breathless. “I just wanted you to see me.” His cock slips out of you slowly and wet and heavy. Your walls flutter around nothing. You almost whine at the emptiness yet before you can his arms hook under your thighs and back. The sudden lift makes you gasp while your legs curl against him as he carries you across the room with ease. “You think I don’t know what’s goin’ on with my dick?” he mutters against your cheek. His breath is warm and his chest rises hard from the effort. “Doesn’t matter if I can’t keep it up. I’m still gonna fuckin’ eat you till you’re screamin’.” The couch cushions dip when he lowers you down. Your back sinks into the fabric as he pushes your knees apart spreading you wide before dropping to his knees on the floor.

His big hands slide up your thighs as his thumbs press into the soft flesh while he stares at your pussy glistening under the low light. “Look at this mess,” he says while dragging one thumb through your slit to spread it over your folds. “Leakin’ all over me like you don’t care who sees. You’d let me put you on your back anywhere wouldn’t you? Living room, kitchen, fuckin’ driveway if I wanted.” Heat floods your chest as your hands grip the cushions tight. “I’d let you,” you admit with your voice trembling. “Anywhere you want.” His mouth curves against your skin before it even touches you. The faint brush of his breath makes your hips twitch. “Knew you would. That’s why you sit there runnin’ your mouth about other men. You want me to drag it outta you.” His tongue finally slides up your slit slowly and wet until it flicks your clit. A desperate cry breaks free from your throat while your legs jerk against his shoulders. “nnhh- ahhnn- oh god yes.”

He groans low with his tongue circling your clit before pressing harder so his lips close around the bud to suck. “Fuck you taste better than anything I’ve had in my life. Can’t believe you've been keepin’ this from me.” Your fingers push into his hair and you tug without thought as your back arches. Every lap of his tongue drags your cunt wetter so slick noises mix with your breathless moans. “Rafe- hahh, mmffh- I wasn’t- hhnnghh-trying to keep it from you.” His grip on your thighs tightens so you cannot wriggle away. “You fuckin’ were. That’s why you went runnin’ to those old bastards online. Wanted to hear shit from them instead of me.” His mouth seals back around your clit while his tongue flicks fast and mercilessly.

You cry out while your thighs squeeze against his head yet his arms force them open again. “Mffhh- no- no I just- ahhnn- I wanted you.” He lifts his head just enough to growl against your swollen pussy. His stubble is rough against your folds. “Say that again,” he said close to your pussy. “I wanted you,” you repeat with eyes glassy and chest heaving. “Always you.” His tongue dives back in as it laps at your slit before curling inside while he eats you like he is starved. Every sound spilling from your mouth only makes him growl harder while his mouth locks on you like he is proving a point. Your wetness drips down the curve of your ass and wets the couch beneath you while his mouth works you over. Every drag of his tongue makes you twitch. When he slides two fingers through your slick folds the stretch has your thighs clenching tight around his head.

“ffuck- Rafe- ahhnn- oh god-” Your voice cracks when his knuckle pushes past and the thickness of his finger fills you deeper than you expected. Your walls flutter and spasm around him so greedily that it makes him laugh against your clit. “Jesus Christ you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groans while pushing his finger all the way inside before pulling it back slowly. “Can feel you squeezin’ like you don’t ever wanna let me go.” His tongue circles your clit while his finger thrusts in again and it curls until your back arches off the cushions. “nnghh- hahh ahh- don’t stop-” Your nails dig into his hair so you drag his face closer to your pussy.

He adds a second finger stretching you wider and his grin is filthy when you cry out. “mm listen to that. So wet you’re makin’ a mess all over my hand.” His fingers pump steadily while his mouth sucks at your clit until your legs shake. “Bet no one’s ever touched you like this. Bet nobody’s ever had this cunt gushin’ like I do.” Your eyes flutter while your chest rises quickly as you try to answer yet all that comes out are broken moans. “Ahhnn- mmffhh- nnhh ohh-” His voice drops lower and rough and taunting. “Taste better than any pussy I ever had. Better than hers too. You know that? Your sweet little cunt beats every woman I’ve been with.” His teeth scrape lightly over your clit and he chuckles when your whole body jerks. “God I like this. Young pussy so fuckin’ fresh it makes me drunker than the whiskey.” Your walls clamp down around his fingers at the words. Your body betrays you while shame burns hot in your stomach.

“mmphh oh god don’t- hahh- say that-” His words make your cheeks heated so you grow shy at the same time. “Why not?” he growls while dragging his fingers out just to slam them back in harder this time. “It’s the truth. You’re sittin’ here gushin’ all over my face moanin’ like a little slut for me. You fuckin’ love it. Love when I tell you how good you taste.” His thumb presses against your clit while his fingers piston into you. “Y-yes- I love it- I love when you- hnngghh- talk like that-” Your head falls back against the cushion while your hair sticks to your damp skin as you writhe. He keeps going until you can’t take it anymore. Everything shakes and your head feels light. It hits fast and it burns right through you. You can hear yourself moaning but it sounds distant like it’s not even you.

He breathes against you slow and rough and you know he’s smiling because he got what he wanted. You’re falling apart right there and he’s watching every second of it. “Fuckin’ knew it.” His tongue licks messily over your folds so he smears your slick across his mouth before sucking at your clit again. “Just sit there because I’m going to keep you spread out on this couch all night just so I can eat this pussy whenever I want.” He proves it by not stopping even when you’re shaking like he’s making a point. You can feel it in the way he moves. It’s not just about getting you off. You can tell he’s not stopping until he’s sure you’ll remember this. Until you can’t think about anything else but him.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀ twenty-twenty-five © addie / musingsofheaven.

⠀⠀

Kaiser’s lips linger a beat too long over your ear, his warmth an unwelcome addition to your already-hot skin. You sigh. “I wasn’t told about this very early, so I didn’t have time to look for something more appropriate.” You turn just enough to catch the way he grins, teeth gleaming a bit like a hunting animal, before he smoothes the expression down into barely convincing pleasantry. “And move your hand, Michael. You don’t want another girlfriend to dump you over some stupid flirtation.”

“Ouch. Straight for the juggular as always.”

He is unbothered as he scans the room, doesn’t move his hand. Of course. You take the initiative to shake him off and go to stand on the opposite end of the small event table instead, and true to form, he’s all too happy at setting you off by leaning onto it and staring down at you. Being annoying’s a skill he’s had ever since you met him. The reunion is overflowing with familiar faces, all pro athletes. The Japan Soccer association has gone through copious amounts of money to uphold their superior reputation since Blue Lock. The events, and you being here as a plus-one, come with the territory.

However, as you scan the room, you don’t see the two faces you came here for either. You know the question is coming before it’s even uttered, and Michael takes a large gulp to finish what can’t be his first glass. “Where’s the other Itoshi’s?” Sae is to be expected. He likes to assure his world status by being fashionably late more than not… but Rin— Kaiser clicks his tongue. “You’re my favourite of the three little Itoshi’s, of course, but I did hope to see the other ones tonight as well.”

“Sae’s on his way, I assume. You know he doesn’t care about these kinds of… appointments,” you respond, flick your eyes about the place. 

Kaiser hums. “He should learn to enjoy it some more. These ‘appointments’ are the only time many of us get to see you three, after all.” The smile that curls on his lips is wide, his voice a teasing, annoying lilt that grates on your nerves when he speaks. “Always guarded real well, aren’t cha?” His fluttering, blond lashes are aimed your way like daggers. What would you even call him? A frenemy? You don’t really want to give him that much sway. But the truth is, he gets to you. When he speaks next, he is almost pouting down at you with big, knowing eyes that read you too easily.

He leans in, close enough that you get your lungs full of his musky, dark cologne. “Do me a favour? Convince Sae-chan to bring you around some more, hm? It’ll be so soon that I won’t be allowed to enjoy looking at you anymore.”

You can’t make yourself meet his gaze, instead focusing yourself on tracing the rim of your glass with your eyes, and the marks your lips made on the crystalline surface. “You know an awful lot for someone claiming never to see us…”

“You know me,” he muses back, “I love gossip.” You know he’s letting you, when you escape from under his chin and push him back by the chest. He could fight it very easily if he wanted to.

“Well then. Do you know the answer to your own question? Where is my brother?” Some of the former Japan U20 athletes give you polite nods when you meet gazes in their corner, and you return their smiles in kind. The youngest of you three is nowhere to be seen. “I haven’t seen him yet, I just got here earlier.” He’s the one that invited you… But even Rin wouldn't be so uncourteous to be a no-show. You hope.

It’s been a few busy months since you’ve seen him though, and in all honestly, you hadn’t parted on the best terms. It’s been longer still since all three of you were in the same room. It’s a thought that stings more than you want to let it. And you had once been so close… While you’re thinking, Michael’s smile becomes a more calculated stare, as he waves over a waiter and picks off two more glasses to put between you two. “You don’t say… I hope that wasn’t Rin-chan sniffling like that in the men’s bathroom then?”

Your breathing pauses for longer than normal. Your worry spikes like it always does when he gets brought up. It makes goose bumps break out despite the warmth of the event, and has your stomach in a knot. You look around the room to the door, and then past his strong, slender body to the hall that leads to the bathrooms. 

Michael sips his bubbles, and looks down at you while he does it. You wouldn’t put it past him to be baiting you.

You can’t help it. You start to move. The blond before you manages to loop fingers around your arm as you walk past, and dips his face to your ear just enough to make yet another troubling statement. “You’re not wearing it. I guess you haven’t told them your little secret yet?”

“It wasn’t the right time,” you snap back a bit too curt; pulling your arm from his grip to walk past. But the statement sticks a pointed splinter into your side anyway, and your fingers start to feel uncomfortably tight. You can basically feel Michael’s eyes on you as you walk through some of the socialising groups to disappear around the corner. You turn at the perfect time to run straight into a chest, the familiar presence reaching out to catch you in your tumble back. It feels appropriate that this is the type of timing you two end up having.

“Oh, Neechan.” Your little brother, not so little anymore in height, puts you back far enough away from himself, then looks past you as if he’s worried someone will see. Which is silly. You’re siblings. You’re supposed to be seen together. You can’t help but study his face a bit too closely as you stare up at him, tracing his long lashes and slightly rosy undereyes. It might be your imagination though, an illusion Kaiser planted in your mind. After another uncomfortable beat, he looks back down at you to give you a sheepish half-hug. “Oh… Long time no see…”

“Yeah,” you agree, “I wasn’t expecting you to invite me. I’m glad you did, though.” You keep him from escaping by placing a hand on his bicep.

Rin’s mouth is a tight line like it usually is, and it’s slow and sluggish to move. Almost like gravity itself is fighting him as he speaks. “Yeah. You haven’t seen Sae in a while, right? I figured you’d want to be here to see him.”

“I’m happy to see you as well, Rin.” It disarms him, his eyes go just a fraction wider to make you believe it’s true. There’s a lot more under the surface you can’t talk about right now though, so you simply wrap your arms around his chest for a few seconds, and rest your face against his beating heart. “It’s good to see you. Really.”

He lets out a dry, unamused chuckle… pulling away too soon. “Don’t know why you are. I’m not the Champions League winner.”

“You know I never really cared about all of that.” You swallow, put your arms back by your body. It’s awkward… and you eventually let out a laugh. “Let’s get a drink together? I was just here for all of 5 minutes before Michael Kaiser thought it a good idea to slide up to me. Pitied me for being here all alone.” Rin’s eyes narrow, and his nose crinkles in a way he can’t hide. “Don’t leave me alone with him, please?”

Almost unnoticeably, his expression gets a bit more comfortable when you slide up beside him and wrap yourself around his arm. It’s the pride of being asked for help, of you gravitating to him for such a task— Rin’s long steps get easier when you pull him along with you. It’s not a competition— but if it has to be, you know he hates watching Sae’s uninterrupted winning streak. All you want to do is level the playing field a little.

It doesn’t escape you when you start picking out something to drink for him from the buffet table, that his hand drops to your side. He wraps his larger hand around yours, and intertwines his fingers with yours until your palms are kissing.

And squeezes tight.

You can’t make yourself say something. Even though you know you should.

+

In so many ways, he’s still that hurt little boy that just wanted to play together. It’s written all over his face, undeniable.

Everyone else erupts in cheers, deafening noises of disbelief and disapproval in equal measure— the players, the commentators, the entire crowd in the stands. Both the sides of supporter and opposition have dissolved into an uproar you haven’t witnessed in a while; but you’re quiet where you stand.

They won. They actually won. You’re not sure what to think.

There’s nothing you can do to stop it, watching him get metaphorically smacked in the face with enough force to dismantle his entire purpose. Your feelings mirror his, like cold water’s been poured down your back. And you’re being pulled wet socks and all into a pit of helplessness. Hands wrapped around the guard rail as you look on in blank surprise, it strikes you just how hollow it feels. Like you’re staring down at yourself from a far distance away.

It feels even worse because you had prepared yourself fully to comfort him if he lost. Rin won. He won, and that should have been enough. Shouldn’t it have? It will never be enough, a voice in the back of your head chants. Rin’s blank, devastated stare morphs into a bubbling anger as he pushes himself up from the grass; as his teammates embrace in all their sweaty glory, ecstatic just as this side of the crowd is. You have to watch as he shoves one of the young men who tries to get him to participate, equal measures furious and despondent.

You can’t really explain it, but while every parent, sibling or lover cheers in pride on this side, you want to cry.

Across the way, standing unbothered in his own huddle, Sae sips his sponsored water bottle like this is water off his back. To him it probably is. Like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up at you from his comfortable spot and waves a hand, then gestures at you to come down from the stands. Some of his maroon hair sticks to his forehead with sweat, but aside from that you would never guess he’d just played an exhausting 90 minutes; that he lost. His future was guaranteed long before this.

He didn’t need the win, and the other young man so desperately did. But Rin did win.

On this side of the field, families are ecstatic. Everyone but you, and him. You guess that makes it your own mistake that you hadn’t prepared to comfort him if he won. Rin’s in the process of telling his coach to fuck off in barely contained fury judging by their body languages, when you turn on your heel to start booking it to the dressing rooms. One of the moms who had cheerfully introduced herself as the sole parent of one of the BLLK11 players calls after you as you blot out of the cheer arena.

The tension is thick enough to cut, when Rin tosses the medal to the floor and it clatters loud against the benches of the now-empty room. It lands somewhere by the lockers. You try to pull at the back of his shirt, gently, but he’s upset enough to immediately yank himself free. “Rin! Don’t go, I’ll drive you home. Rin!”

His next words are a snarl, like an animal backed far into a corner. “Leave me alone!” Then he slams the door behind him, hard enough to make the frame rattle. Sae doesn’t react more than just lifting an eyebrow, and clicks his tongue.

“What a drama queen.”

You bend before the medal to just stare at it for a while. There’s a thousand people out there who’d do just about anything for this piece of metal. Have its glittering emblem hung up on their wall like a rightful proof of achievement. Not Sae. Not Rin. That would just be too fucking easy, wouldn’t it.

You pick it up off the floor, now with one chip in the perfect edge. “You didn’t have to say all that to him.”

“All that— The truth?” Sae responds, squaring his shoulders. “Why do I have to coddle him when that’s really how I feel? Isagi did play a better, more interesting game than Rin did. Shidou’s a freak but he interested me more with his plays, too.” When you were younger people would laugh at the way you three were attached at the hip. Rin to Sae, and Sae to you; and you would never go anywhere where your brothers couldn’t follow. It used to be fun to be their sister, when they weren’t constantly at each other’s throats for something so stupid. “Rin’s plateaued.”

You let out a breath, and blink back the tears that suddenly threaten to make their way up, and stare at him. “Why do you have to be this way? To him and to yourself. All I want is for us to go back to normal, Sae. Be a family again. It doesn’t have to be this endless competition. Is it still not enough that you’re one of the best?”

Sae stands up, and gets right up before you. “Don’t-” There’s a darkness in his eyes that zeroes in on your face, going from your lips to your eyes, back to your lips. You know he wouldn’t hurt you. But those ice cold, oceany eyes still scare you. He takes your wrist to pull your hand, medal and all to his chest. “Not one of. I’m the best defender in this fucking country. I’m the best.” 

You try to fight your hand out from his grip, to pull it away from where his heart is beating so hard against you. But you can’t. You push at his shoulder instead, until you two almost topple over onto one of the benches. “What happened to you in Spain?! Why won’t you ever talk to me about it? What’s so important that it would drive you away from your own siblings, huh?” Your eyes spill over into thick, pathetic tears that he would probably laugh over any other time.

But here, in the echo of the desolate dressing room, Sae raises his voice for what feels like a first time in years. “You and Rin happened, neesan!” His voice gets sharper and more biting with each word, leaning closer and closer until you’re basically nose to nose. Okay, now you’re scared. His eyes dart around your face wildly like he can’t find what to look at, before finally he stares at your mouth like he’s expecting an answer. You breathe in the same air, as he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just ‘cus you don’t want to see it doesn’t mean I can’t.”

He grabs you by the back of the head to force your head forward until your nose is in the crook of his neck, and his mouth comes to press against the shell of your ear. Too close, too warm, too— He basically hisses against you like a snake. “I know what Rin is thinking every time I leave for Spain. And I know you’re letting him.”

+

It’s been years since that afternoon now, but the thought of it still plays in your mind from time to time. You flutter between helping Sae clear the table and hovering as Rin awkwardly stalks around your apartment. Every so often he picks up a knick-knack from your dresser, stares at it too intently, then puts it down without question. “Scoot,” Sae mumbles, slides past you to fill the wine glasses as his woody, honeyed smell hits you in the face. He raises his eyebrows at you, as he nods his face to the food. Most of it is take-out. “Are we doing all this because I’m here?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice, but it’s not the mean kind.

It’ll be okay, they’re older now.

Flashes of the past play before your eyes when you close them, of Sae and Rin bickering over who’d play the dad to your mom. Sae wrestling you over the right to tell you what to do, and to sleep in your room with you. Of Rin crafting a ring for you out of paper when he didn’t yet understand the purpose of them.

You’re not sure why you’re dreading their reactions so much. 

“Don’t you know? Me and neechan always have a family dinner once a week. We just don’t invite you because we don’t like you,” Rin says back in the same flat tone, and you’re not sure whether to laugh or smack him in the back of the head- until Sae lets out a chuckle of his own.

“Oh good. At least you have this, since you have no friends…”

“-Alright,” you come between them to pick your own glass from the bunch before Sae can fill it up any more, and sit. “Let’s not start again.” Luckily for you, it’s enough to get them both to shut up. Soon Sae’s going back to his fancy apartment in Spain, and Rin’s soccer season will start again soon too. And you’ve run out of time to tell them in person. It has to be now.

Rin’s message, the one he sent while drunk and neither of you ended up talking about, comes to mind— the way you had paced around your apartment without a clue of what to do. The ‘love you’ that wasn’t supposed to be said aloud. 

Sae panting in your ear on more than one occasion, nights he’d call you from Spain too breathy and preoccupied.

You just want to keep everything the way it is. But there’s no good chance of that now, is there. After seconds of silence, you find the words trickling out of your mouth. Unwillingly. “I guess I don’t know how to introduce the topic… so I’ll just say it. I… got engaged the other day. That’s why I invited you both for dinner.” You swallow the tight feeling in your throat, don’t manage to pull your eyes away from your glass until it’s too late. You lift the hand that you’ve been hiding in your pocket out into the open, to show off the glistening stone for just a brief second. “Surprise. And I want you both at the wedding, so you guys can’t fight until then. You can do that, can’t you?”

“You got engaged?” You hear Rin parrot, letting the words sit in his mouth like some medicine he doesn’t wanna swallow.

Then Sae continues it, by boring holes into the side of your face as he watches you. “And you said ‘yes’?”

“Of course I said yes,” you lift your eyes to meet theirs, “I have no reason not to.”

Sae’s frown grows deeper. “You have plenty. You’ve been dating for a year. I’ve met him twice. I thought you two broke up because you stopped bringing him up.” He leans forward onto the table, any prior interest in the drinks forgotten in favour of staring you down. Maybe it’s the way both of their eyes look like a creek frozen over in winter - light blue and volatile - or how Sae’s looking at you like you’ve just stolen his prey out from under him, you start to fidget. 

With a loud scraping of the chair, Rin stands in one motion, and towers over you with a mix of anger, and an emotion you can’t fully place. It sits right in the frown between his brows, mocking you. “You can’t be fucking serious, neechan.” He pokes his tongue from between his teeth, then licks his lips. “You’re joking. Right?” When his eyes get covered by the dark blanket of long lashes, his mouth corners curl up just a tiny bit. Not the genuine kind, though. The ‘are you fucking kidding me’ kind. He walks off to the guest room before you can try to convince him of anything— and Sae stares.

He knows you’ll follow after. There’s no use denying your role in the family. He doesn’t even have to call you out on it when you get up from your seat and tread down the hall, knocking just once before you slip in. Before you can say a word though, Rin’s cornered you against the door, his hand over your mouth. Your head aches because of the way it’s knocked into the solid wood door, back matted to the door. “Poor neechan, you really still don’t get it, do you? Don’t talk.” He pins you up between his body and grabs a wrist to keep you in place.

“Mh-Rin?” You try to speak against his palm anyway, and a frown gets cemented on his face.

“Don’t talk. You really manage to piss me off when you say stupid shit like that.” Rin’s gotten so much bigger in the last couple years. He’s no longer the spindly little boy that would pull your sleeve to keep you close. He presses his tall, wiry body all up against you and leans in until your lashes are almost touching. And nerves start to tingle all over you, as he stares like he could eat you whole. “You’re not actually gonna pretend not to know, right?” Know what? Seriously, what’s going on? The way his breaths dust over your sensitive neck makes you shiver, and try again to pull yourself free from him.

He moves his hand to your jaw instead, and keeps your face still while you’re taking a deep breath in. “Ri-” You’re shut up because he invades your space more, and his mouth lands fully on yours. Your eyes shut instinctively, as he pushes his lips against yours, and then the warmth of his tongue pushes past your stunned mouth to brush against your own— and your fingers tangle into the front of his shirt. You try to push, really, but he’s so much stronger. And he licks into your mouth until you go softer under him and you’re pulled closer into his body, back arching. The noises he makes as he disconnects from your face for just a second makes everything feel too real, the shivers going down your back, the way your body clenches. “W-wh”

It seems more like you’re keeping him in place, not that Rin needs the prompting. He kisses you again, deeper this time, letting the puffs of satisfied breath dust over your face as his tongue tangles with yours again and again and makes your mouth jut open full of spit. You swear you don’t mean to, but your tongue is squirming against his anyway, and it misses his when he pulls back. Slightly rosy cheeked and with an impish grin, he presses kisses all along your jaw and ear. It tickles, and it feels good. A shaky breath escapes you, with his name. “You knew all along this is what I wanted, liar. You just thought you could use it to make us get along, right?” His baby blues stare into your soul as he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, and bites his own.

It’s not your fault, that the static between you two makes you completely wound tight. Your legs feel like giving out, and your mouth drops open, only to lead him into another kiss. Open mouth and messy, taking what he wants from the heat of you, and sucking your tongue so sweetly into his. Oh no, you’re sick. Your stomach flips and your panties rub uncomfortably between your legs, and you pull back in embarrassment at the feeling. Rin’s all too eager to jump on it, and breathes your name out into the too-tight space between you as you roll your body to his. “See? You’re a bad sister. You wanna be my girl, hm? Your body’s betraying you.”

No. No, no, no, you can’t. Your eyes, full of wetness and unspilled excuses, can’t do anything but helplessly blink up his way. You wanna get along with them. You want them to get along with you. You never wanted anything like this to happen. “Jump,” Rin grunts, and you do— get picked up against his solid stomach and dropped down without much fanfare into the doughy covers. He’s back on your mouth before you have the chance to say anything, and large hands start to move from your legs up to your waist, slipping under your shirt with a pant.

It’s only when those long fingertips start to snake under your bra and nudge at your heart that your hairs start to stand upright, and you feel the alarm bells overtake your brain. “W-wait, Rin. You can’t, Sae’s out there. I-”

“Don’t care, be quiet,” Rin just says, and shuts you up again. He’s kissing you so good and so deep that you can’t find it in yourself to push him away, no matter how much you know you should. If Sae finds you two, you’ll be so fucked. There’s no better way to explain this than exactly what it is. You’re seriously making out with your brother and your pussy’s slicking under his touches, panting his name into his ear. You’re pretty sure that if he tried to pull back now, you wouldn’t let him. Hands push your bra up over your tits for his access, grabbing and kneading the skin, flicking your nipples and gliding his mouth down to your throat.

Your body’s making sounds you don’t want it to, where he sucks and bites at your sensitive throat with a purpose. One you don’t get until you feel a bruise start blooming on the side of your neck. Your whimpering is distracting enough that you put a knuckle between your teeth, and you stare up at the ceiling instead of him. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it somewhere in the room, and starts work on pulling your pants down just as fast. “I thought you’d cry and fight more,” Rin chuckles against your skin as he starts pressing kisses down to your belly button, then straightens to see his work. As he strands up, you can see the way his pants tent over his cock before he grabs himself through them, and licks his lips. “Fu-ck, neechan. Fuck.”

“You’ve made me so fucking hard, feel.” He lays himself on top of you to grind his covered cock against your pussy, and rubs your slicked panties against you with the motion. The friction is enough to have you biting down harder, and digging your nails into his shoulder. Rin kisses you over and over, and pants words in between them. Your entire body’s tingling like crazy, waist angling to get that good friction. “I wanna fuck you. You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You always let me.”

It’s enough to make you forget for just a moment to be quiet, and you throw your head back to moan out a stuttered, “R-Rin~” that makes your brother laugh, as he crawls over top of you to look at you below him.

Your lips drop open and your tongue out, and Rin takes it as an invitation to hook his thumb into your mouth and spit onto your tongue with a filthy noise. “Getting married, my ass. Look at you right now.”

It’s this way that Sae finds you two when he opens the door, light streams in onto both your bodies, and he just clicks his tongue.

“Sae! I- It’s not- what it…” you shut yourself up when you realise how truly useless it is to deny anything. Your younger brother’s on top of you and you’ve got your tits out, as Rin’s grinding his hard cock against your slicking pussy.

He walks in, shuts the door behind him, and gives Rin a look of thinly veiled irritation before he drops himself onto the bed on his side. “You work quick. Run out of patience, have you?”

“Shut up,” the youngest grunts, and kisses you again despite your eyes flicking to Sae— but he only stares back at you.

The redhead pulls your head to the side to disconnect your faces, and then slides in closer to get nose to nose with you. “That feel good? Yeah?” He plays with your lips, before pushing in himself. You can’t believe it when he also kisses you, more demanding, more forceful than Rin. Sae kisses like you’ve kept yourself from him for years and he wants to make up for lost time. Sucking on your lips and tongue and sharing spit, he smiles into the kiss as he makes you moan. When he pulls back, a string of spit connects your two mouths, and he licks it off of your face when it snaps. “You look so fucking stupid right now, all spaced out. Pay attention, neesan.”

Rin’s pulled your pants down your legs as well as his own, and is now playing with the bow on your panties. His chest is flushed a slight pink, and his heart is beating so loud you can hear it where you’re laying. Or maybe that’s your own, your body pitifully, obviously squirming under them. But this is all wrong. Sae’s shirt goes over his head too, as you shake your head side to side. No, no, no. This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. “We can’t… we’re, we’re siblings.” The ‘let’s stop’ you mean to say sits on your tongue as Rin’s fingers rub down your panties and push just the right friction into your pussy to make it get so, so wet.

Sae chuckles at that, and his thick lashes brush your cheek when he sucks the underside of your jaw. “Who’s gonna stop us? You? I don’t think so. There’s two of us, and just one of you.” He’s stroking himself through his sweats as he says it, promises it against your skin. The way he pops the head of his cock in and out of the ring of his fingers as he watches you, he licks his lips before going for yours again. You never cared that much about kissing before this. But it's them, your own blood, and it just feels so erotic. Sae’s quick to push his hand into his pants to take himself out, as his other hand plays with one of your tits. “And I don’t think you’re gonna do anything at all. Just like always.”

Rin’s taken off his underwear too, now standing in front of you in all his naked glory as his hard cock bobs a few times, and he yanks your panties down your thighs to demand attention. He pulls your ass a few inches closer to the edge of the mattress, managing to piss the other off in the process, and then rubs his leaking cock head against your winking pussy. “Sae’s right. You’re full of shit, neechan. How are you gonna get married to someone if you’re getting this wet from this little.” Slick drips down your pussy and ass every time he pushes the head of his cock into you an inch, before he pulls it back out. “When you’re this much of a slut for your own brothers?”

“Don’t you know-” The noiret pushes his fat cock right into that needy pussy without even asking, and bottoms out in two forceful strokes that knock the air out of you, “-there’s rumors over who will get to fuck you in the club. Guess they didn’t expect it to be us.” His cock is just right, just curved enough to get into the perfect spot, and long and thick enough to fill you up just over your limit. Sae gets above your face to pat his wet, flushed cock against your mouth as well, and doesn’t wait to push the head of it into you either. 

“Suck.” His precum’s a bit salty and a bit musky, but you can’t focus on that when he grabs your head and starts fucking your cheek like that, opening his eyes every few seconds to stare down at you with that pitying, satisfied look. “I could convince my team you’re my girlfriend. When you- suck-hng, suck my cock that way.”

“-No, she’s mine,” Rin snaps back, punctuating it with a hard thrust that makes your pussy spasm, and your legs wrap around his waist. “You’re my girl, neechan. All mine, my perfect little pussy to fuck. My hole to fill.” You have no choice but to moan like crazy, as both of them use your body like you’re made for nothing else. As Sae starts making you take his cock all the way into the back of your throat, through tears, and your fingers dig into his meaty thighs for reprieve. He looks at you like he wants to make you suffer, only letting you up to talk some more.

“Such a filthy sister slut. Letting your little brothers fuck you, yeah? Is this what you got so fucking mad about back then?” He pulls your hair as he fucks into your mouth again, balls to your chin as your tears run down your cheeks— it’s all so much. Rin’s fucking a leisurely but precise pace that shakes your body up and down the mattress, and bounches your tits in rhythm. Your moans get stolen by Sae when he forces his tongue back into your mouth and takes your breath that way too— and it all feels so good. The heat of your body under theirs, the way he’s staring at you as he watches you suck in desperate breaths as spit runs down your face, it mixes into a mess of noise and fluids and the loud squelching of your pussy that RIn’s fucking just right. “You just wanted a dick to shut you up.”

“Gh-,” you cough up, spit as you’re let up again, and look at him through desperate, wet lashes that glitter, “that’s not true. I wanted-, I didn’t want you to do this.” He squeezes your cheeks together, and more hot, thick tears run down your temples as your lip starts to wobble. You’re not sure why you’re so overwhelmed. It really is true, that you just wanted them to get along. You just wanted what was best. It’s not your fault. “It’s- not-” You’re crying. Nose runny and desperate, your sniffles only get interrupted when Rin hits that spot again, and you’re crying through your moans, squeezing your eyes shut hard. “Oh-god, god, I’m sorry. It’s not my fault. You two are so m-mean- ugh, fuck. Fuck.”

“You made her cry, niisan.”

“She’s pretty when she cries.” Sae laughs in your face as he rubs his cock against your thigh, and clicks his fingers in front of your face. “Get your little hands on it, c’mon. You can do it.” His slicked cock is rubbing your skin raw, his eyes narrowed. “Poor baby. You’re so fucking pathetic. Your siblings are so mean, aren’t they. Aren’t they? Hm? You just wanna get your pussy fucked and it took this long to get to it, hm? Hold my dick so I can fuck your hand.”

You do as you’re told, and Sae groans out your name as he fucks into you, plays with your tits and pinches your nipples, and Rin takes his distracted focus to rub your clit back and forth until you’re seeing double. It feels so good. Good enough to make your back curl off the bed and cry, arch your chest into Sae’s hands. Slick pools under your ass and squelches out with each thrust. “Ah, fuck. Rin, Sae. I’m- I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too,” Rin grunts, letting his fingers flick over the wet, pulsing nub like crazy. The pounding of your g-spot is making you see stars, and though you can’t control your tears, you pull Sae closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Rin’s pace picks up against the way you’re clenching, the way your stomach is pulling together into a tight ball that’s about to spring.

“Ow, ow, Rin. Too much.” He keeps toying with that poor, little button until your body sucks him in further, and your moans build ‘til you’re bursting. “Ah, agh, stop, it hurts. It hurts, agh!” Your orgasm floods over you with enough force to keep Rin inside as he moans, and his dick spurts hot cum all inside you. Coating your insides, he pounds against you until he can’t hold it any longer, and pulls his cock out.

“Fuck, fuck, holy shit, neechan. You want me to get you pregnant or something?” He thumbs the cum spilling out of you up and leans over to slip that thumb into your mouth, and chuckles. But Sae isn’t done yet, and barely as soon as you have caught your breath, he pushes Rin out of the way between your legs to pat his still hard cock on your overstimulated pussy.

“Be nice and let me use your pussy like that too.” He pats your clit a few times to watch your legs jump at the feeling, and then pouts. “If it hurts, don’t blame me, alright? It’s not my fault that you always let Rin use you first.” It does hurt. Your poor clit’s already aching the second he rubs his thumping, red cock over it a few times, before he pushes his thumb hard onto it. He slides his cock inside your leaking pussy with a satisfied moan, and stares down at you through thick lashes. “This is the payback you deserve, neechan.”

brat!reader who knew caleb was a farspace colonel quite a while before mc did. did caleb tell you on his own will? no. did you call him and beg want to meet up while he was on duty? yes.

did you tell mc? no. why would you? whatever she didn’t know about him that you did made you feel . . useful. to this day she doesn’t know that you knew before her. 

brat!reader who is ecstatic when she gets a call from mc, voice shaky, as she vents about the argument with caleb she just walked out from. something about him offering to build her a house and how she won’t have to see anyone ever again. 

well . . all that extra info goes in through one ear and out the other as you’re already sliding on a miniskirt and tossing her a lame excuse, followed by you hanging up on her before even giving her the time to reply.

and just like, you have a reason to dilly-dally your way to his apartment!

the slate door, that mc fortunately hadn’t locked when she left, flings open under your arrival. you’re greeted by caleb’s eyes already faltering at the sight of you — hope dying as he realizes you aren’t who he was waiting for.

“whaaat, not happy to see me?” you slightly shake the bottle of red wine you bought with you, the pair of shot glasses clinking in the plastic bag hung on your pinky. “mc told me what happened. jus’ wanted to see how indirect rejection was treating you.” you croon, voice too sweet for a jab that just made his unmoving glare deeper as he watches you cross the room and step into his kitchen to uncap the wine.

as you walk to the couch, a few feet away from him, he finally says something. “if mc was the one who told you,” he grumbled, shooting you a sideways look. “then why’d you come to me?”

you pour the red liquid evenly into the two shot glasses. “because she’s crying about a cage she doesn’t understand.” just as you were about to push one glass towards him, his upper body pulls back.

“now’s not the best time for a drink.”

your brows furrow, choosing to push past his refusal and nudge the cup closer to him again. “and you’re here pretending you’re not hurt she ran away from it.”

“i don’t want a drink, for fucks’ sake!”

the sudden outrage made you flinch, grip tightening on his glass you were still holding. you exhale, letting go of his cup. “okay, okay.” you take your shot instead, letting the liquid burn a trail down your throat. 

“caleb, look . . i know you’d tear apart an entire galaxy or whatever for her. but she looks at you like—” you hesitate, your nose scrunching at the thought. “. . a brother.” 

he seems quiet. with the assumption that he’s warming up, you scoot a bit closer to him, eyes on your small, empty cup. “she doesn’t get it, caleb. she doesn’t get you. not anymore atleast. but, i think i . .”

your voice was oozing with certainty, like someone was finally hearing you out. until you looked up and met his gaze, already on you, sharp enough to cut. he was glaring daggers that you could feel cutting in. “don’t get ahead of yourself. and don’t talk about her like that.” 

and there it is. it’s always been second nature for him to defend her. no matter what. no matter the context, no matter who was talking. it’s burned you to your core for years. the hurt flashes across your face before you can stamp it down, and a nasty, desperate part of you takes over.

“at least i wouldn’t run!” you snap, slamming the glass on the coffee table. “at least i’m not—not scared of you!”

his eyes widen, a flash of festering animosity cutting through. for a second you think he’s gonna give in and just take the shot still waiting on the table. instead his hand shoots out, grabbing your upper arm in a grip that makes you wince before he shoves you away from him. “get out.” he snaps. “get the fuck out of my apartment.” your gaze follows his finger as it points firmly towards the door.

you jolt up from the couch instantly, left hand squeezing the throbbing spot where he grabbed you. yeah, you’re mortified, but a sick thrill runs through you. you got to him. you cracked the colonel's facade. you turn and stalk towards the door, your hand on the handle, but you pause. there’s silence behind you.

there’s gears moving and turning in his head. moving in directions he doesn’t want to. your sickly words—”she doesn’t get you”— replaying over and over. you might be annoying but you’re not stupid, and you see the crack forming where your little attack lands.

“fuck it.”

his voice is rough, ragged. you turn your head slowly, brows already inching upward in triumph. 

“since i’m so hurt by mc . . let’s see if you can make me feel any better, yeah?” he taunts, a challenge and a surrender all in one. the sudden shift of mood ironically makes you feel a tinge of uneasy.

your bravado falters for a second, a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes before you mask it with a sly smile. “. . mhm? and how exactly could I do that? I'm not a mind reader, you know.”

“ride me.”

the command sits in the air, stark and heavy. you hesitate just long enough before he frees himself from his trousers, pulling the waistband below his shaft. he’s big, and watching it grow felt stupidly exciting. gosh, you’ve never rode a dick before, let alone seen one this girthy. 

yet you push your panties aside and climb onto him anyway.

the first inch makes it hard to breathe. the second makes your hands curl uselessly at his shoulders. by the time you’re halfway down, already a grunt-fest, caleb’s looking down where you two are connected, hands crossed over his chest, waiting for you to at least start moving.

once you’ve finally sheathed him completely, you awkwardly sit there trying to move. your hips stutter instead of rolling. it’s impossible to ride this thing. a frustrated whine escapes you before you can swallow it. he lets you struggle.

“what’s that?” he murmurs, almost curious. “that’s you riding me?”

heat floods your face. “i just . . need time picking up pace, wait!”  as another pathetic grind is given to him.

caleb snorts, calloused hands suddenly coming forward to grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. he guides you to slide up and down slowly. too slow. once again you’re rendered useless.

he drags every inch out on purpose. “you’re the one who’s supposed to be helping me right now,” he mutters near your ear, unimpressed. “try again.”

you’re silent. you know better than to embarrass yourself again. “i  . . can’t.” 

it’s just a smidge above a whisper but caleb acts like he can’t hear it anyway. “you what?” he asks, acting all confused.

“ugh, i can’t!” soon after your plea he’s manhandling you over as your back hits the leather couch, spot warm where he was sat previously. 

he’s still agitated, but his mind’s somewhere else now. it’s not mc. it’s on you, and it’s on how to make you stop being so fucking annoying. “you’re a useless brat, y’know?” he taunts, kneading your sensitive nipple just enough to make you squirm in your spot. “bitchy little baby sister.”

your poor pussy’s spasming around nothing as caleb keeps slightly brushing his tip on your entrance. it infuriates you how his words alone make slick pool down your folds, and how caleb can see literally all of it. 

“c-caleb, plea—”

“please what?” he cuts you off and finally stops teasing you, only to lean his face closer to yours, his warm breath against your ear. “please what, meimei? please finally put you out of your misery and fuck you? is that what a useless thing like you needs.” the thick head of his dick grinds against your soaking cunt. not pushing in, just applying pressure. a choked sob’s pulled out from you.

before you can form a response, his hand leaves your breast, and his his knees back away. the cold air slaps your cunny half a second before caleb’s hand does. your body jolts at the unexpected slap, desperately trying to grab onto his forearm. 

“you liked that, didn’t you?” he does it again, another wet smack to your swollen, sensitive flesh. “you think i ignored you that much? like i didn’t see you sulk when me and mc—”

“please,” you interrupt. “. . don’t think about her while you’re with me.”

for a split second, you think you said too much, again. but, to your luck, you see a grin forming on caleb’s face. he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him as his dick lays above your stomach, tip just below your belly button.

“you’re right.” he agrees. “she wouldn’t like this, any of this. but you will, won’t you, baby?”

“Excuses, excuses,” he tuts, bicep flexing as he catches your wrist in an attempt to scratch his cheek, “you like when I play dirty, little whore.”

One step away from a tense family dinner had him cornering you in some tucked away office with your dress bunched around your hips on the floor.

Satoru thought fucking you would depredate you, make you take on the burden of his sins. Instead it’s only wrecked him further. Now he tastes you in the back of his cheeks whenever he looks in the mirror.

God he hates you. Because you make him sick, make him do sick, nasty things and you barely try to fight back. 

“It’s like you want to get fucked by your brother, hm?” he thinks aloud before pressing his mouth against yours. He cups your neck, pulls you closer, pays attention to how you grunt and tug at his shirt. Your nails catch buttons, scratch into skin. 

He shouldn’t kiss you here, where any roaming maid or distant cousin could catch a glimpse of what the Gojos do when no one is looking. 

But he’s at a point where he wants people to look, wants people to see just how fucked up you both are.

“Toru,” you hiss, “stop, get off—”

“Oh shut the fuck up. We don’t have time for the but ~Satoru~ we shouldn’t song and dance. You always let me have you, so be quiet and take it.” 

Still, you fight, like you always do. Your toned muscles push and shove, one leg nearly smashing air from his lungs. He catches your calf in time, insatiably mean fingers digging into your soft flesh and forcing your thighs apart. He can tell you bite back a whine of pain, too prideful to let him know when he hurts you.

“You cannot do this here in the fucking floor of—” 

“Really? Would you rather me take you to your old bedroom so you can cuddle your stuffies while big brother fucks you stupid? Hm? Is that what you want?” 

“What I want,” you try to pull his hair like a child, “is for you to find someone else to be obsessed with. What about Sugu? Oh, that’s right you—”

Just the sound of that name makes him want to rip you apart, smash you to such small pieces that he’ll never have to think of you again. Satoru clamps his hand over your babbling mouth, squeezing until his knuckles turn white and you actually whimper.

He’s going to fuck you into the floor, into oblivion, until all you can think about is him. It’s only fair. 

Satoru keeps the pressure on your mouth, forcing his free hand between your spread thighs so he can shove two long fingers into your cunt. Your panties are soaked around the edges of his knuckles, pussy drooling and squishy as he thrusts and scissors in the way he knows will make your eyes roll. 

“You sure are wet for someone who doesn’t want this.” 

He knows you do. You don’t have to tell him—you probably never will say the exact words aloud. He won’t either. 

You roll your hips back as he fingers you, the dress around your hips falling open like wilting petals against your skin. 

The palm of his hand eats your moans, still small and breathy, desperate to feel more than just the squelching spread of his fingers. 

He wants to punish you, wants to bruise your pussy with his knuckles and make you scream. But he doesn’t have that kind of patience. His cock is smothered in his pants, straining and thumping against the floor. Pre is already leaking into threads; he feels another drop bead against his cockhead as your cunt squeezes when he curls his fingers into a spongy spot that makes you buck.

It’s so wrong and fucked up that he knows that soft spot within you, knows that if he rubs it a few more times it might actually make you cum in his hand.

“God, is your slutty cunt this messy for other guys? Such a fucking pain in the ass—you’re gonna stain the rug.”

Only he loves how easy access your slick makes you. Just a few movements—glossy hand down his pants, shoving the waistband down over his ass, plugging his tip into your hole—and he can thrust his cock all the way to the back of your pussy. 

You manage to bite into the side of his palm, canines pressing into sinew as you weep for him.

Fuck you feel so good, too good, tight and full with the most familiar, decadent squeeze around his thick shaft.

“Pull your tits out,” white lashes flutter as he pushes in, out, “lemme see ‘em.” 

Like always, your fight is gone the moment he’s buried in your cunt. Your hands scramble to obey him, nearly ripping the delicate straps of your dress so you can pull it down, breasts falling on display. Satoru keeps his eyes on the bouncing fat, biting his tongue when your nipples harden into the most delicious looking buds.

You muffle a cry at a particular cruel thrust, legs starting to burn and shake from the weight of his hips between them. Your lips are swelling behind his hand, sloppy with drool. 

Satoru shifts back, getting on his knees so he can curl your leg against your bare chest and worm his way to the very depths of your pussy. The sound is lewd, all wet and gushing, each push of skin on skin making him prickle.

His keen senses perk—footsteps in the hallway, voices through the wall. Dinner guests shuffling about in the absence of the prodigal siblings. 

Your eyes flash toward the cracked door, yet the little ah, ah, ah~ behind his palm won’t quit.

“Yeah? You want someone to find us? Want them to see how your big brother pounds into your guts because he can? Because you’re a little fucking slut who lets me?”

The annoyance that flares to life as your gaze returns to him has his balls tightening. You hate that he gets the best of you. This is the one way he can, by making you weak and wet and willing for his cock.

Satoru presses his hand to your belly, presses in deep and hard until the heel of his hand meets the outline of his dick. 

“Feel that? Feel how fucking full you are with my cock?” 

He uses strength he couldn’t on anyone else, barreling his hips until you’re moving back on the floor, rug scrunching beneath your bodies as he pounds into you so recklessly. 

You whine, actively try to bite his hand, to suck his skin, to hurt him. 

“Oh please, you can take it. You’re a Gojo.”

That reminder makes you both groan, your cunt sucking as his cock swells. 

He wonders for a split moment what really draws you together. Lust? Failed parenting? Some mutual sense of rebellion? All of it, probably, and some other sick, twisted shit laced in between. 

Your little fingers start prying at his over your mouth, clawing and plucking his knuckles. 

He shows a little mercy and releases his hold on you, only to clamp both hands down on your hips so he can fix your pace and build a faster rhythm. 

You suck in a deep breath, “Kiss me.” 

A pale brow quirks at your request, smirk tugging at his cheek. 

“Really? And why should I? Thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Oh my, ah, god, Toru, I ask for one nice thing. Just,” you reach for him, gripping onto his flexing biceps and pulling him down, “just do it, for me.”

He was always going to oblige you. He hates admitting it, but he’d kiss you all the time, if you’d let him. 

Satoru’s lips meet yours with a bruising fervor. 

Your hand tugs in his snowy hair, drags him closer. Your mouth moves against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, neither of you really know. All he does know is that you still taste the same, like home, and he wants your breath in his lungs.

He is a snake, wrapping around you, suffocating, crushing until you can’t breathe anything but the poison he spits.

Your mouth slants for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as your stomach starts to get tight, tell-tell pulls and sucks like you’re begging him to keep stroking the flames.

“You’re so spoiled, aren’t you,” he groans into your mouth, lips messy with spit, “you gonna cum just from my cock? Do I fuck you that good?”

“God, sh-shove that fat cock deep and cum inside me—”

Your demand makes his blood run hot. 

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, maniacal and oh so satisfied. “You’re spoiled fucking rotten. That’s what mommy and daddy did to you, spoiled you so fucking much you think you deserve everything. Even me.”

Because you started this, didn’t you? When you got old enough to be so fucking tempting in your twenties, started flirting with his friends and batting your pretty eyes at all the higher-ups. When you got strong enough to match him, to take up space in his light.

“Fuck you,” you purr like you’re trying to mean it, like you’re trying to deny him. “Hate you so fucking, ah, god–shit—” he’s got your clit pinched between his fingers now, pressing until he knows it hurts, “make me cum and let me go.”

White hair spreads into the sweat of your skin as he buries his face in your neck. He’s so close to losing it, to being done with this.

“I’ll do one of those things. Let you figure out which one.”

Satoru grinds his cock into your gummy walls, cock strangled in your suction. His pelvis is rolling against your clit, coarse curls making your legs twitch. 

The moment he gets his thumb over your clit, it’s like dropping a match into gasoline. You both burn so hot, melting into one another as he explodes and you convulse. No matter how many times he feels you cum, hears you whisper his name and choke on the three little words you never say, he will never get used to it. 

So familiar and foreign and fucked up, the kind of drug that scratches at his brain and begs from more. 

He empties his balls into you, creaming into a cunt he should never touch let alone fill to the brim. 

You’ve never told him he can’t, that he shouldn’t. You both know it’s abhorrent, disgusting, but maybe that’s why you keep letting him do it. 

He’ll still watch you take your morning pill, though, just to make sure.

Your bodies lie panting in a forgotten corner of the home you both hate, the scent of sex rolling in the air like smoke.

“Get off me and go.” 

Shame is wavering in your voice, it always does. He can understand why you feel it—he does too, he just morphs it into some kind of wicked hatred so he can still sleep at night. 

“One last ~kiss~?” He mocks your voice and revels in how you claw your way out from under him, trying to pull yourself back together and catch the cum dribbling down your thigh. 

“Fuck you. Fuck this. It won’t happen again.” 

And it shouldn’t. But it does. It always happens again. 

Because he wants to hurt you, shame you, make you feel weak in his arms when you shatter and cum. Because he hates how much he loves you. So he wants to crush you, wrap around you like a viper and pop you out of existence. 

His life would be so much easier if he didn’t have a spoiled brat of a sister. 

You make him want to eat his fist when you swipe his cum from between your legs and put your fingers in your mouth, smiling because you know he’ll return to dinner with a tent in his pants. 

“and that’s how they simulated the woman getting impaled on screen!” your normally taciturn boyfriend zandik rambles with growing enthusiasm as you awkwardly squirm in his lap. date nights with your boyfriend are few and far between— most hours of the day are occupied with him working himself into a frenzy in his lab, while the rest of his time is allocated to his secretive duties as a ‘harbinger’ in an organization he refuses to elaborate upon— leaving little time for him to dedicate to you. so, when the opportunity arose to spend a night in with zandik, you jumped at his unexpected proposition for a movie marathon, even foolishly trusting him with the choice of movies for the night.

what you hadn’t expected was his particular selection of films. classic slasher flicks, grindhouse films, and obscure horror movies of dubious origin that made you question where zandik even acquired such a thing.

‘why did i let him choose the movies?’ you berate to yourself mentally. in hindsight you should’ve expected something like this from your boyfriend, for his tastes and personality were less conventional than most to put it lightly. an unsettling fascination with medicine, a love for the macabre, and a flippant disregard for whatever fails to draw his attention led your admittedly sadistic boyfriend to become somewhat of a horror aficionado in lieu of other less ethical alternatives.

‘okay, it could’ve been cute and romantic like in all those rom-coms where the scared one cuddles into the other,’ you try reason to yourself, but your thoughts are interrupted by the bloodcurdling scream emanating from the tv.

you flinch and bury your head into your boyfriend’s shoulder to hide from the gory sight in front of you, but you’re met with a laugh as calloused fingers tilt your head back to face the screen in all of its stomach-churning glory. clearly your apprehension is amusing to zandik who appears to be enjoying the way your eyes turn glassy and widen while witnessing the escalating violence on screen. the masked killer stalking and chasing the innocent lamb who is no match for him, only to be pinned to the wall with a knife separating the two.

the power dynamic is eerie and dark, with an undercurrent of sexual energy that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat as your mind begins to wander back to you and your boyfriend. it should repulse you— leave you on edge and afraid of what’s to come for the ingenue— except you wonder what it would be like if you were being chased like that by your boyfriend. to feel so small and helpless, at the mercy of a much larger man with the nastiest of intentions for you, the thought of that made you clench involuntarily, followed by shame and realization settling instead, causing you to hide your burning face in the cushions once again.

“no hiding, my dear.” your boyfriend teases with a patronizing lilt to his voice, pulling you tighter against his broad chest to effectively stop you from wriggling away from his grasp. he won’t admit it outright but the sick thrill of watching the events on screen unfold, coupled with your wide-eyed reaction is making his cock twitch in his pants. all the while, your frightened squirming only added fuel to the fire in zandik's mind as his attention turned from the film to the filthy thoughts flitting through his head and his rapidly hardening cock. 

“stop it, it’s gross! i don’t want to see it...’ you sniffle petulantly, once again adjusting yourself in zandik's lap while remaining oblivious to the way you’ve been unintentionally grinding on him for the past half hour. while it’s amusing to zandik seeing how clueless you are that you’re unintentionally being a tease to him, the throbbing of his cock tells him it’s time to move things along.

the hands holding you in place in his grip circle around your waist to adjust your seat on his lap, something so innocuous that it doesn’t register in your mind until you feel something distinctly hard press up against your ass. 

“z-zandik? why are you h-hard right now?” you try your best to hide the shock and embarrassment in your voice to no avail. ‘this can’t be happening right now...’ you scream internally, trying to pay attention to the screen instead of your increasingly wet panties or your boyfriends ministrations. the feeling of soft lips leaving a wet kiss on your neck makes you cringe, not from the act itself but the realization that your boyfriend might be onto your newly discovered kink. you try to compose yourself the best you can without squirming anymore and continue watching the movie, but it doesn’t seem to stop the wandering hands which have started to travel to your chest.

“what? can’t i enjoy this night alone with my darling?” zandik sounds almost offended by your line of questioning, as if it was perfectly normal to be fondling you underneath the blanket while watching the serial killer on screen trap his next victim.

“you’re so sick for getting off to this, you know?” you retort with no real venom in your voice, half-heartedly turning away to avoid seeing the manic grin spreading across your boyfriend face. for what you lacked in outward excitement over being groped by your boyfriend to the sight of stylized violence, he made up for in earnest.

“mhm, and you’re not? don’t deny it dear, i know you’re wet, too. it’s okay, i’m not one to judge…” a large hand splays itself over the expanse of your soft stomach, traveling down to reach the hem of your panties, “i think it’s only fair for you to be a good little doll and take me, then we can enjoy the rest of our movie, shall we?” the smirk on zandik's face grows as he presses his lips along the tender skin of your shoulder. you know it’s a lie, it’s never that simple; but you couldn’t ignore the dull ache in your core that seems to be intensifying with every passing moment. 

you silently acknowledge your defeat with a nod, kicking away your shorts and blanket, and the last of your dignity as you spread your legs for your boyfriend. zandik makes quick work of freeing his hard cock from his pants, the fat head smearing precum onto his stomach as he pumps himself lazily to the inviting sight of your body waiting to be fucked. a strong arm yanks you backwards, your back flush against the broad expanse of zandik's chest. for a humble scientist, you would have never expected zandik to be so strong, but you've eaten your words plenty of times regarding him.

a strangled moan escapes your mouth when you feel your boyfriend’s calloused roughly tug your panties to the side, his fingers eagerly dipping into your inviting heat. 

“see? look at you, i’ve barely touched you and you’re already such a mess. and what was that about me being the sick one?” your boyfriend teases, rubbing the head of his cock around your clenching hole to further humiliate you as your brain scrambles to bite back at his words to no avail. carnal desires override all other thoughts in your brain, and the burning need to have your cunt stretched by your boyfriends cock has you grinding lewdly against him in hopes of getting the message across.

zandik only smiles at the pitiful display in front of him, your brows furrowed in concentration as you buck your hips erratically in hopes that your clit catches on his cock. ‘this little game is too cute to end so soon,’ zandik thinks. 

“don’t you think you should apologize for being so rude? if you apologize to me then i’ll sink my thick cock into you,” the sight of your watery eyes turning around and the humiliated look of betrayal written across your face makes his heart skip a beat, you’re just too adorable for your own good!

a sad mewl escapes your throat as you futilely gather the remains of your composure, but even that is thrown out the window as zandik resumes teasing your slit in earnest while he awaits his apology.

“don’t keep me waiting little one, you know what happens when you keep me waiting.” memories of past punishments with your boyfriend play out in your head— from the merciless spankings delivered to your ass until it was numb, to the torturous edging sessions that had you sobbing for release, something that zandik was all too willing to give in excess. 

“i-i’m sorry for calling you g-gross, okay? zandik, please just f-fuck me already, please!” you plead, you’re not sure how much more teasing you can take from him, but you know not to disobey his unspoken rules and relieve the ache yourself, lest you be subjected to your boyfriend’s sadistic plots.  

you feel the lips on your neck curl into a smile, zansik pulling away from you to assess the fresh marks he has left in its wake.

“ah, apology accepted little one. you know you didn’t have to beg so prettily as well, right? not that i’m complaining,” zandik laughs airily, basking in your frustration while languidly rubbing the head of his leaking cock against your clit once more. “poor thing has been practically dying to be stuffed, i suppose i’ll give it to you nice and deep since you begged so nicely,” you nod your head earnestly at his suggestion, spreading your legs further around his thighs as need and lust cloud the last of your judgement.

your body stiffens from the intrusion when zandik's cock finally slides itself into your warm, wet cunt. despite the wetness teased from you from zandik's earlier ministrations, it’s still a stretch for you to take him. your boyfriend pays it no mind however, continuing to push himself further inside you all the while your body tenses in front of him. 

“aww, you wanted it so bad, huh? look, your tight little cunt stuffed so full of my cock...” zandik's voice trails off as he brings a hand to press against the faint bulge in your stomach. the high-pitched squeal that leaves your mouth is borderline sinful as zandik hoists your body upright against his chest, effectively impaling you on the full length of his cock. pitiful whimpers and moans fill the air as you struggle to keep your composure, earning an annoyed grunt from your boyfriend.

“ah ah ah, my dear. don’t you want to be good for me?” zandik chides in his characteristic, condescending voice. you nod desperately, not wanting to potentially earn yourself a punishment from him, should you disobey him. “in that case... pay. attention,” zandik's voice darkens, the warmth of his breath on your ear leaves you trembling in his grasp. he drives home his point further with two harsh thrusts which nearly have you keening over.

you shakily find your balance and seat yourself on top of your boyfriend once again. you direct your gaze back to the television and cringe at the sight of another gratuitous death scene play out, much to the amusement of zandik. despite the gore on screen, you find comfort in focusing on the film, rather than the warmth between your legs.

seconds stretch to minutes, and you've acclimated yourself as much as you can to the fullness between your legs. it isn't long afterwards that you find yourself growing bored of the carnage, instead letting your thoughts retreat to your indulgent fantasies of being chased and used without a care. your pussy flutters around zandik's cock as you subconsiously begin grinding on him for more stimulation, completely lost in your lust-filled thoughts. 

although thoroughly amused by your antics, zandik much preferred your attention to be focused in the present moment, rather than stuck in your silly fantasies. a devious plot plays out in zandik's mind as idle hands from behind you rest upon your thighs. your body tenses immediately as lithe fingers inch towards your clit, rubbing teasing circles around the sensitive nub. you gnaw at your bottom lip desperately to stifle a moan, but to no avail.

“is something the matter? you’re so tense, darling. what, are you scared?” zandik scoffs, enjoying the conflicted look on your face as you contemplate whether to continue this charade or not. 

“i- um, i-it’s nothing,” you stammer out. you briefly lock eyes with your boyfriend before cowering away from his intense gaze, as if he could see through your pathetic attempts at controlling your desires. 

“well then, what’s got you so worked up, hm? while watching something like this no less, heh...” zandik's voice trails off as his wandering fingers begin to pick up speed, drawing more essence from your puffy folds. “how filthy,” a deep groan is heard from behind you as you clench at his degrading words. you know you’re fighting a losing battle trying not to fuck yourself stupid on your boyfriend’s cock, but you fruitlessly try to prolong the inevitable.

“it’s just... um- i’m...” you stumble on your words as you debate whether or not to come clean about your newfound fantasy to your boyfriend. despite how cute you look tripping on your own words and avoiding eye contact with your boyfriend, he’s long grown tired of the act. if he can’t coax it out of you, he’ll just have to fuck it out.

“i-i think i’d like it i-if we tried- ah!” your confession is cut short by a sudden force pushing you forwards, bending you over the coffee table in the process. before you could mewl from the sudden loss of stimulation from zandik's cock, he effortlessly bottoms out into your slick folds to begin an unrelenting pace. 

“honestly, although it’s adorable seeing you try and fail to listen to my orders, you’re just a needy little slut in the end, aren’t you? don’t deny it,” he laughs mirthfully, his sharp teeth gleaming in the low light. “lucky for you, i’m feeling generous today...” a harsh thrust emphasizes his point, emptying any thoughts hoping to form in your head.

zandik's pace is fast and brutal, your lover finally unleashing the lust and need that’s been pent up for the last few hours. his condescending praises and cruel teasing are replaced with animalistic grunts and shameless moans as he thrusts deeper inside your plush walls. 

you, on the other hand, aren’t faring much better. the way your boyfriend grabs your hips to fuck you on his cock leaves you unable to form words, aside from some incoherent babbling. your senses are both heightened and muted in the moment, barely able to register the faint screams from the television but whimpering from the slightest change in pace. 

“naughty thing, do you want me to be rougher, huh? want me to dress like those scary men in the movies, chase you around for a bit?” his voice is dark and playful, but you don’t miss the manic glee beneath his words. “i know you’d like that, darling. you like the idea of letting the big bad killer have his way with you, don't you?"

your mind is in a flurry envisioning scenes of breathless chases and empty threats. unable to respond to your boyfriend, you enthusiastically fuck yourself on his cock to make up for your lack of words.

"my, my, i didn't know you were such a slut for fear," zandik teased, delighted by the way you clenched at his degrading words. although amused by the way you’re debauching yourself for him, zandik still wants to remind you who’s in charge. large hands grab a hold of your waist, slamming you on his cock with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs momentarily. your boyfriend resumes rubbing fast circles around your clit while you try to keep up with the onslaught of pleasure. you could feel yourself coming closer to the edge, and by the frenzied pace of your boyfriend, he doesn’t seem to be far behind.

“i know you’re close. cum. cum for me. cum for me, slut.”

white spots fill your vision as you cum around your boyfriend’s cock with a strangled moan of his name, your walls clenching even tighter around zandik's cock as you ride out your high. zandik cums with a groan and one final thrust, pulling your weak body close to his while he pumps you full of his creamy seed. 

the sound of laboured breaths and incessant chatter from the tv fills the room while you and zandik catch your breaths. too weak to move, your chest remains slumped over the table as you passively take in whatever is playing on the screen. it looks like the final girl has triumphed, and the killer has been defeated. 'how trite,' you imagine zandik saying.

with no warning, strong arms pick up your body bridal style and begin carrying you away to your shared bedroom. you lock eyes with zandik momentarily before he averts his gaze, not wanting to make the moment awkward.

zandik is always quiet in the immediate aftermath of your trysts, choosing to comfort you through actions rather than soothing words. a wave of sleepiness washes over you as your boyfriend wordlessly fusses over your fucked out form.