#tw.gaslighting

“Be good, love,” Malcolm murmured, voice low and smooth, velvet laced with iron. There was a sweetness in it. But also, a quiet command, like the smile that never quite reached his eyes.

“I will. I always am, darling,” you replied, automatic and soft. The words tasted familiar, worn from use, yet strange on your tongue. You loved him. At least… you believed you did. You had to. There was no reason not to. Not really.

He chuckled—a quiet, amused sound that always pulled a smile from you. You were trained to respond to it, like muscle memory. “I know. But still. Behave, alright?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. The silence that followed felt deeper than usual. The house swallowed him whole, leaving only you behind.

You wandered through the quiet halls, trying to shake the feeling that had started to gnaw at the back of your mind. You were often like this lately—adrift, grasping at something you couldn’t quite name. He told you it was nothing. That it was normal, considering the accident. That your memory would return in time.

Except… it hadn’t.

You couldn’t remember the day you married him. Or the way you’d met. Or why you sometimes woke up gasping in the dark, drenched in sweat, your throat raw like you’d screamed your voice away. You’d asked him once. He had smiled and kissed your forehead, whispering, “Some memories are best left buried.”

That day, the weight in your chest didn’t go away.

It was there again now, heavy and suffocating, like invisible fingers tightening around your lungs.

You wandered to the bedroom—your bedroom. Or so he said. You barely remembered how to navigate the house without thinking. But your body moved on its own. Habit. Routine. Familiarity programmed into your bones, even when your mind resisted.

The drawer in the corner of the room called to you. You didn’t mean to open it. Not at first. But your hands were already reaching for it before your thoughts caught up. The compulsion was too strong. Something inside you needed to know.

And when the drawer opened, you froze.

Photographs. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. All carefully arranged. All tucked neatly between delicate tissue paper, as if they were precious artifacts. At first, the faces didn’t register. Different hairstyles. Different expressions. Different clothes.

But the same eyes.

Your eyes.

They were all you.

Laughter frozen mid-breath. Smiles that never reached your eyes. Dresses you didn’t remember owning. Bruises you couldn’t place.

Some photos were newer. Others older. You recognized none of them, and yet they were undeniably you. A collage of versions—happy, scared, serene, desperate. But all of them shared one common trait: they were being watched. In each frame, subtly blurred in the background, a shadow lingered.

Him.

Sometimes only his hands were visible, placed possessively around your waist or brushing your hair. Other times, he was fully in frame—close, always too close—smiling with a calm, calculated gaze. The kind of smile that made your skin crawl now that you saw it from the outside.

A ribbon. A perfume bottle. A dried rose, still tied with a bow. A necklace—broken at the clasp. A fingernail. You didn’t know whether it was yours, and that uncertainty was the worst part.

And then, the flash drive. Sleek. Unmarked. Black as night.

Your hands moved like they weren’t your own. You crossed the room, plugged it in, and opened the file. A single video.

The screen flickered. Static.

And when it played, you saw a familiar face.

You.

You were strapped to a chair. No… a bed. Bare shoulders trembling, your mouth gagged, eyes wild with terror. You writhed against the restraints, muffled cries choking in your throat. You didn’t remember this. You didn’t remember this. But it was you.

Then came the voice. Soft. Steady.

His.

“You always try to leave, my love. But you never make it far.”

The camera panned slowly, almost lovingly, to reveal him sitting beside the frame. Calm. Smiling. Watching you.

“I’m not angry,” he continued. “You don’t need to remember. You don’t need to understand. You just need to stay.”

He leaned closer to the lens, his eyes dark and glinting with something sharp beneath the surface.

“I’ve loved every version of you. Every time you run, I find you. And I bring you home.”

Your blood ran cold.

“I know you don’t remember. That’s alright. I’ll remind you. Over and over, if I have to.”

The screen flickered again. Another scene. Another you. This time crying. Another version screaming. Another begging. Another… smiling.

Each version more twisted than the last. You watched as he carefully recreated scenarios—like a director obsessed with a single actress. A thousand variations of the same obsession. A thousand attempts to preserve the perfect you.

You yanked the flash drive from the port, heart hammering. Your stomach churned, bile rising in your throat. You stumbled backward—

Knock knock.

A soft, deliberate sound.

You froze.

Another knock. Louder. Measured.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You turned to close the laptop, to hide everything—but you were too slow. The door creaked open.

And there he stood.

Framed in the hallway light, still in his work clothes, tie loosened, his smile too pleasant to be real.

“Love?” he called gently. “What are you doing?”

You swallowed hard, pulse racing. “I-I was just… cleaning.”

He took a step in. Then another. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

“You never clean in here.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

He stopped behind you, his presence a wall of heat and silence. You felt his breath on your neck. Then his hand on your shoulder, light as a feather.

“You opened the drawer, didn’t you?”

You said nothing. But the tremble in your body gave you away.

He leaned in, lips grazing your ear.

“You always open the drawer eventually.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“How many times has it been, hmm?” he whispered. “Seven? Eight? I lose count. Each time you forget, and each time you find your way back. And I… I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

You whimpered, the sound dying in your throat. His hand stroked your hair with practiced gentleness.

“It’s okay,” he said sweetly. “We’ll start over. Again. Just like before. I’ll fix everything.”

You tried to move, but he tightened his grip. That same voice, that same gentle cadence, coiled around you like barbed wire.

“You’re mine, love. You’ve always been mine.”

And this time, you weren’t sure you’d ever escape.

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Megumi-nii, who cuddles you after a long mission and rubs his fingers over your entrance. Lazy movements, just barely there, but enough to have you sighing in his lap. He just wants to make you happy, isn’t that right? You were so worried for him.

Megumi-nii, who after each mission becomes bolder and bolder, until one finger enters you and thrusts in and out, the other hand cradling one of your breasts. He says it’s the way brothers show their caring side to their little sisters. And who are you to deny your intelligent nii-san?

In the dark of your room, or prison as you call it, you lay on the bed. Your body is sore, your throat hurts for how much you screamed a few hours prior, you couldn’t feel anything other than soreness and fatigue.

How many hours passed? Sincerely you don’t care anymore. Even if you try to guess the hour, nothing could change. you would still be there, in that damned room, alone and tired.

On your cheeks there are still traces of your tears, now dried and a symbol of your despair.

You look at the wall trying to receive some kind of comfort but in vain.

Closing your eyes, your mind makes you recall all the happy memories you experienced in all your life before them…

They took everything from you: your freedom, your autonomy, your dignity, your dreams and your hope.

Now you can only feel despair and nothing else. Still lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear the door opening and various footspes reaching the bed.

“Waka maybe it's best, if we don’t bother her. Her body hasn’t recovered yet.” protests Keizo worried about you.

“Oh, like I care about what she likes or not.” Wakasa remarks codly.

Shinichiro sits next to you on the bed, caressing your head, kissing gently your stained cheeks.

“Princess are you awake? Do you need something?” Shinichiro asks, shaking you a little.

“Oi (y/n) you ungrateful brat, you better respond if you don’t want to get hurt once again.” Takeomi interferes, threatening you.

Optining for not making them angry, you open your eyes and with the help of, oh-so-kind Shinichiro, you sit up.

“I’m awake, Omi-kun.” you quietly respond. You try your best to not cringe after calling him like that.

You loathe calling them by their nicknames, acting like you are in some kind of relationship.

One time you had the brilliant idea to lash out on them, saying that you five didn’t have and never will have a relationship. You screamed that you despise all of them and they will never be your lovers but only captors.

Bad idea

Takeomi and Wakasa didn’t take your little outburst really well, and that same night, they punished you badly. Really bad.

Keizo and Shinichiro stayed on the sidelines, they thought you acted like a fucking brat. They don’t understand what you want, you can have everything you want. Just a word and the entire world will be at your feet.

Maybe you just need more time, so you can fall in love with them and then you five will be happy forever.

Your body still has the bruises of that dreadful night.

“Me and Benkei cooked your favorite dish, aren’t you hungry princess?” Shinichiro questions smiling.

You nod quietly, while Benkei covers your body with his gang jacket.

“Now let’s eat before it becomes cold.” he smiles before leading to the dining room.

Takeomi and Wakasa watch every movement ready to attack at your first error. Like predators ready to pounce on their prey.

You gulp, feeling their harsh gazes on your back, and stay as near as possible to the other two.

You ate as quickly as possible, so you could be alone in your room, without feeling their eyes on your body. It disgusted you so much, you felt dirty and violated in your intimacy.

Today luckily you can sleep alone, because they have to do something with the gang. Not that you care but that means you can be free for a few hours.

As soon as they got out of the house, not after reminding you what will happen if you even dare to think of escaping, you bolted in your room.

Collapsing on the bed you begin to cry and let out all your emotions. You can’t do this anymore, you can’t live like this. Waking up every morning with the fear of upsetting them at every chance, it’s tiring and you are tired of fighting against them.

You are all alone in this world, your parents are probably dead, your friends either dead or missing or abandoned you.

You sit up on the bed and make contact with the mirror near your bed.

You…

You’re the former shell of your old self, you’re a mess both physically and mentally.

Your dull (e/c) look at your injured body. Cigarette burns, scars, purple bruises, hickies, bites decorate your body alongside your new "present" from your so-called "boyfriends".

They tattoed their fucking names and their fucking gang’s logo on your body.

Between your breasts there’s Shinichiro’s name. He chose that place because “it’s my favorite place in the whole world”. He loves marking your chest with hickeys and now that there’s his name, he feels even more proud of his mark on your body.

Wakasa’s name is on your tummy right above your pussy, a reminder as Wakasa says “whose pussy is this”.

Takeomi loves seeing his little property uncomfortable, so he tattooed personally his name on your inner thigh, also a reminder of who fucks that sluttish cunt.

Keizo, oh sweet Keizo, he chose your hip so you could feel less hurted. He loves having his big hands on your smaller body and his name written on your hip is perfect.

If you close your eyes, you can still hear your screams when Keizo had to physically restrain you, while Shinichiro tried his best to calm you down. Takeomi and Wakasa prepared everything, and the bastards took great time listening to your screams and pleas to let you go.

If it wasn’t enough, they also inked their fucking gang’s logo on your back.

You are marked entirely as theirs and you can just despair.

Sobbing you plop down once again on your bed. Exhausted you fall asleep, hoping that when you will wake up you would be anywhere else but not there with them.

Haruchiyo let his head fall back again and let out a long, hoarse groan feeling his own pupils dilate more than they already were and his cock inside that heat twitching each time as he unloaded cum into the woman he hadn't talked to, seen, or even touched in months, over twelve.

And he felt nothing, not a shred of remorse or guilt, but pleasure and sheer euphoria as her red fingernails clawed hard at his back and her lipstick smeared on the collar of the dress shirt he hadn't even bothered to remove the moment he entered her bedroom.

His body collapsed on the bed below them both and his heavy breathing denoted how much energy he had put into this trivial, ordinary, almost meaningless fuck. And when Haruchiyo heard his own cell phone vibrate in the pocket of his forgotten pants on the bedroom floor and saw a message from Y/N through the notification bar asking if he was coming home yet and telling him dinner was ready, the first thing he did was stare at his ex-girlfriend's face for long minutes before he leaned over and planted a short, restrained kiss on her lips and started to get dressed, still breathing heavily.

— We won't be doing this again. — Haruchiyo commented, putting away his cell phone and looking for his car keys and cigarette and lighter packs in the other pockets of his pants before lighting a cigarette between his lips and walking to the door of the house of the girl who for a long time no longer held the title of his girlfriend.

— Are you still with her? — It was the last thing he heard before he opened the door and took a long drag on his cigarette.

— Do I look like a single guy? — He returned the question by taking off the ring worn by the two of you as a promise to date and putting it on his finger before he left that house where he had been many, many times before engaging in a serious relationship with Y/N.

He had a woman waiting for him at home. A perfect girlfriend design, almost a wife. Like a pin-up doll, you were the starry night over his Rhone. Sanzu Haruchiyo had someone to come home alive for after Bonten extermination missions, Sanzu Haruchiyo had someone he wanted to be alive for to wake up the next morning and get kisses all over his face, Sanzu Haruchiyo had someone who let him throw his dirty shoes into her washing machine heart. And yet he let himself betray her as if it was the perfect crime.

The only thing present in his mind during the entire slow drive home because of the heavy traffic of Tokyo's streets was the thought that "men have needs"; he had needs. Haruchiyo needed to feel the adrenaline rush of doing the kind of thing that was seemingly forbidden to him, it wasn't like he didn't love you, he loved you, yes, but he needed to do it to feel complete. That is the truth, there is nothing to mask, nothing to hide, nothing to romanticize, nothing to throw under the rug hoping that flowers will grow from someone who never had hanahaki.

— Y/N? — Sanzu asked as he entered the house and searched for you with his eyes after leaving the cigarette in the ashtray. — My love? — He heard a "Yes? I'm here!" coming from the kitchen and immediately walked that way to have you welcome him with a tight hug and a deep kiss.

And then you smelled something that was not his and that Haruchiyo had tried to mask with his cigarette. Your hands trembled around his shoulders and yet you gave him a friendly smile. Maybe it was the new perfume from some Bonten executive, although Sanzu had never been one to enjoy much physical contact in the workplace.

— You smell different today. — You said, moving a little away from his body and raising eyes to face him.

— Oh, pretty girl, you're just imagining things. — Sanzu answered, taking your face between his fingers and smiling innocently. — I smell exactly the same as I always do, the only difference is that I came home smoking today. — You watched him sit down at the table and ran your tongue over lips before placing hands on his shoulders in a gentle massage.

Yes, you were imagining things. Imagining Haruchiyo's fingers nervously drumming against the fork every time you stared at him during the entire dinner, imagining his eyes darting away from yours more than three times in a row, imagining and over-thinking the way your boyfriend took off his shirt quickly to slip into the bathroom to shower without giving you the chance to run your hands over his back like you liked, imagining the worst.

Did I do something wrong? That's what you were thinking.

Haruchiyo didn't even give you more than a small kiss of goodnight before turning over onto his side of the shared bed and sleeping peacefully. And you, on the other hand, stayed awake for a long time after he had already gone to sleep and occupied yourself with going after the shirt he had worn that was tucked among several other layers of dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

And was there a more concrete proof of a crime than a suspicious posture and lipstick staining the collar of that shirt?

You felt your heart sink into your chest before you squeezed that tarnished fabric between fingers and slid eyes around the room until you found the serene figure of Haruchiyo sleeping on the bed. He looked too serene for someone guilty, your heart seemed too beaten for something that was innocent. Your breathing was heavy for a few brief seconds and body, lethargic.

When you met Sanzu Haruchiyo you thought he was your complete savior and you didn't pay attention when, in the first fight of the two of you because he didn't want to return your feelings for fear of hurting you at some point, you asked: "How is it possible that you are more afraid of my heart than the weapons you use?" and he just looked away without giving you a concise answer.

And then you opened a small smile before you threw that shirt on the pile of dirty clothes that would be washed the next day, straightened your posture and walked toward the bed to climb into it and hug Haruchiyo's body tightly. It would be the last time you would be home to hug him like that and at that time of night.

You didn't feel hurt, resentful, sad. You felt empty, but determined to give back in kind. You didn't want excuses, didn't want scars from a love that would not heal on its own. No, you wanted to make Haruchiyo choke on his own poison and then have him crawl toward you begging for forgiveness.

So the next morning you behaved like you knew nothing and almost 100 times more adorable, perfect. It was almost as if on that day you were a doll ready to fulfill any request or demand from Sanzu, but in the successors? Oh, Haruchiyo didn't even recognize you anymore. There were no more welcome kisses, no more stroking his hair until he fell asleep, no more hugs when he came home from work at Bonten, you didn't even look at him.

In reality, there was just a Y/N coming home later and later with discreet but visible marks on body, a Y/N who became more and more distant and stuck to her cell phone, almost always with a smile and spontaneous giggles. Your cell phone didn't have the same password as before, and when Haruchiyo accused you weeks later of cheating on him, your only response was a debauched smile along with:

— You're just imagining things, Haruchiyo. — And it was his heart's turn to sink in his chest.

In the weeks that followed, Haruchiyo literally became the most loyal man on the face of the earth. It was as if he had become your personal obedient puppy ready to try to make you like him more with small gestures and words, Sanzu was really afraid for his life and soul that you would end up leaving him for your ex-girlfriend again. But more than afraid: he was angry, annoyed. Anger because she was a member of a rival gang that, despite discrepancies in business dealings with Bonten, still remained friendly to Manjiro's gang and therefore he couldn't hurt her without breaking almost every clause of an imaginary peace term instituted between the two criminal organizations.

You had been coldly calculating in choosing to resume your relationship with that particular ex-girlfriend, and there was not even an iota of shame within you for knowing this. In the end, he was the very one you learned to be like that from.

And while Haruchiyo was busy coming home from an especially tiring day of work at Bonten, you were busy lying on your ex-girlfriend's bed with one hand gripping her hair and forcing her face further against your wet and exposed pussy. Your legs were trembling on her shoulders, bust rising and falling rapidly and cell phone on the bedside vibrating with messages that you knew who they were from. Her mouth licking and sucking your folds and clit as if you were the tastiest meal she could have ever tasted in her entire life and hands holding your legs wide open.

You could tell how much she had missed you for long months without any news from you by the way she worked so hard to pleasure you and you had always loved the way her lips felt against your pussy. They were so soft and she looked so beautiful with them and her chin wet in your juices. And the way she moaned against your folds every time you forced your hips against her face and pulled her hair? Divine, so divine that it bordered on being too sinful to be real.

She slid three fingers inside you and left a trail of kisses down your abdomen and breasts before taking your lips to kiss and bite them. You couldn't help but moan her name every time those same digits rubbed against your G-spot and curved against your walls. It was so good, she was the only one except Haruchiyo who knew how to touch you right, how to make you cum fast with so little. Even after months of not seeing her, the effect that girl still had on you was intoxicating, almost as if she was the drug you needed to forget all your problems.

Your ex-girlfriend's other hand groped the mattress beneath both of you before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your cell phone to see who was the idiot that was texting you so many times. Your face sank into the curve of her neck leaving kisses and licks there while her fingers inside your pussy began to make faster and more precise back and forth movements.

A wicked smile appeared on the lips of the girl above you as she saw the nickname "My Sweetie" flash on the cell phone screen and seconds later, she was clicking on the cell phone camera app and recording you as she pushed you closer and closer to orgasm with her fingers widening and teasing your gummy walls. Filming you with those lewd and vulgar expressions was so satisfying, and it made it all the better knowing that it was she who was making you cum, not he.

— Wanna cum, princess? — She asked you with a smug smile while still fucking you with her fingers, and you moaned pornographically in response as soon as those tips hit the most sensitive spot inside your pussy again. — You're so gorgeous to me, you know that, don't you? — Her thumb rubbed your clit and you, nodding in agreement, closed eyes tightly knowing that you were about to cum. — Cum for me, pretty, hard and nice like I know you like it.

Your head dropped back and you grinned widely before moaning her name as you heard her say the very phrase she knew you liked to hear. Hard and nice like I know you like it. She does. And you did as she told you, cumming exactly that way with eyes rolling up and body shaking in its entirety.

And seconds later she was sending that videotape of you two having sex to Haruchiyo with the caption "I might be second choice, but at least she chose me”.

At your house, Sanzu was depressed with his cell phone pressed to his chest and thinking of a thousand and one ways to make you forgive him.

Until the video was received.

And Haruchiyo just sat there on the edge of the couch staring at that glowing cell phone screen dredged up in a frenzy of thoughts, jealousy, anger and a bitter taste in his mouth that he was reaping what he planted. You seemed to be enjoying the situation so much and that was what made him so angry, that made him boil with hatred.

But when you got home with legs still wobbly from overstimulation and throat a little hoarse from too much moaning and whining, the only thing you found was Sanzu Haruchiyo sitting on the edge of the shared bed playing that lewd video for almost the hundredth time.

— What the fuck is this? — He spat in your direction with his cell phone raised and almost shoved it in your face and you just pushed his hand away without looking at the smartphone screen.

— I’m enjoying my life just as you were enjoying yours. — You answered by looking at him with disinterest and Haruchiyo felt some of his patience that wasn't so high disappearing yet.

— Your life? — He cracked a sarcastic smile before tossing his phone on the bed. — Who d'you think you are, Y/N? Who do you think you are, hm? You were from a... — Your raspy voice interrupted him, who did Haruchiyo think he was to demand anything of you?

— Oh, really, Haruchiyo, get over it. — Your voice dripped venom at him as your arms crossed over chest. — I did the same shit you did, what's the difference between you and me? At least I didn't try to hide it, I wasn't the first to cheat on you, I wasn't the person who ended a relationship. — His breath caught in his throat at seeing you use those words and a mocking laugh escaped your lips as your feet walked toward Sanzu and your finger brushed against his chest accusingly. — And, well, we're even now, aren't we? I'm moving on with my girl and you should do the same. At least she doesn't gaslight me and... — A loud laugh escaped Haruchiyo before he hooked his hand around your neck and pulled you forward, your faces dangerously close together, his pupil dilated and that's when your firm stance faltered with a look of apprehension that made his cock twitch in his underwear.

— Oh, gaslighting? — Sanzu asked with slightly raised eyebrows. — That's a pretty big word, sweetie, who taught you that, hm?

And seconds later he was throwing you on the bed and pressing you against the mattress with one hand still on your neck and the other going to aggressively remove your clothes. Your hands desperately tried to push him away, but it was so easy for Haruchiyo to subdue you. He knew you better than anyone after months of relationship and it was only a matter of time before he managed to get two fingers on your clit to slowly rub it and make you arch your body unable to breathe properly because of the sudden wave of pleasure sweeping over you and making you forget how pissed off you were.

— Fuck, see this pussy? — He spoke up, slapping your exposed pussy lightly and making you gasp with your hands clenched around his wrist that was around your neck making you breathless. — It belongs to me. Only me, the only person who is allowed to touch it is me, understand? — You gasped as you felt him tease your entrance with three fingers and tried to close your legs, only to have Haruchiyo tighten his grip on your neck. — I asked if you understood, bimbo. If you don't answer I may have to fuck an answer out of you, is that what you want?

— F-Fuck, Haruchiyo, yes... yes! I did-mhm! — Your voice faltered as Sanzu invaded your cunt at the same time that his thumb pressed against your clit with a pressure that made you wonder if your body wasn't about to cum.

— Now look how this slutty pussy of yours swallows my fingers without even thinking twice. — He made scissor movements inside you and you let your head fall back in shame at the lewdly true words of the man above you. — You hardly think twice about opening your legs for anyone, do you? Whore, that’s what you’re, but at least you're my whore. — Your legs tried weakly to kick against Sanzu's chest and he couldn't help but think you were cute for trying to push him away while his fingers were sunk deep inside your greedy pussy.

The more you tried to free yourself from his grip around your neck and his body subduing yours, the faster his fingers moved against your velvety walls and the harder it became for you to be able to fight off your own orgasm. And Haruchiyo was so skilled with his fingers, hitting against all the right spots, forcing you to accept the one position you should never have left: his little doll, ready to be fucked whenever he wanted.

And then suddenly the knot at the bottom of your belly tightened even more and in the blink of an eye you were coming apart in an orgasm that left you completely breathless beneath Sanzu, who was now watching you completely wet his palm and part of his arm.

— That's how you look the most beautiful, bunny. All fucked up beneath me, in the end only I can fuck you like that, right? Hard and nice like I know you like it.

You choked on your own saliva and Haruchiyo gave you a wicked smile before slapping your pussy and laying you face down on the bed with your back to him before removing his clothes.

— I totally caught you, didn't I? Never gonna let you run back into the arms of another woman, another man, any other asshole.

He brushed lips against your ear before biting the lobe and forcing your legs open to slip his cock between your wet folds with one hand flattened on your belly and the other reaching back for the neck.

— What d'you think about me breeding you, hm? I bet you'd love that since I've trained you to accept whatever I give you, right? — Sanzu held you still as his cock slowly worked its way into your gummy insides and a grunt of pleasure from him reached your ears sending electric waves straight to your pussy and making your walls clench around him. — Oh, you love that idea, don'tchu? The idea of me stuffing you full of babies, keeping your pretty pussy all puffy and numb from fucking my cum into you. — You moaned lasciviously at the idea with eyes rolling upwards.

It didn't take long for Haruchiyo to start pounding inside you with almost bestial force, his hands groping every inch of your skin they could reach and your head not knowing if it could focus on anything other than his dick sliding in and out of your cunt over and over again.

He was treating you like a fuck doll and you loved this position to the point that you moaned his name almost as if it was a religious mantra.

Sanzu whispered in your ear that he wanted to see you dripping with his cock, see you all stuffed full and you whined in response like you were in heat as moved hips against his just to get more of his cock stretching your walls almost to the limit.

Seconds before you ended up cumming for the second time for Haruchiyo, your eyes filled with tears from the overstimulation and he opened a smirk as he saw you wetting the sheets below you both with water droplets.

— Aww, my poor lil' thing. — He whispered in a sweet tone that didn't match the brutal way he was fucking you. — Don't cry, bunny, I'm gonna ruin your pussy completely so that you can no longer whore yourself out to other girls, 'kay? You'll love it, just- fuck, wait, you'll love getting cockdrunk. — And that was the last sentence you needed to hear before you ended up reaching orgasm again and turned into a complete slobbering mess.

A few erratic thrusts later, Haruchiyo finished using your wet hole and sank inside you painting your walls completely white, breeding you until you felt that maybe there was going to be a bulge in the bottom of your belly when he came out of your heat

— Quite pathetic. — Haruchiyo whispered breathlessly in your ear before pressing your body to the bed and pulling out of your cunt to watch a stream of white liquid begin to leak out of your entrance. — When I fuck you dumb, that's what you become, isn't it? A very pathetic dumb girl. — His hands massaged your back before turning you to face him and pulling you into a tight embrace. — But I love you anyway, you know that, don'tchu? — And then you gasped and nodded as Sanzu took out his cell phone to take a picture of your pretty, fucked-up face.

𝟏. 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞.

From childhood, you were brought up to always respect the authority of the Archons, who watched over the Inazuma region and gifted your people with a wonderful and luscious experience, always properly observing the holidays and celebrations, and making sure to punctually present your offerings in the times of worship. 

Having been born a female, you knew you could not bear the blessing of a vision with your frail and sinful will and duly followed your father’s teachings to learn the ways of the housewife so as not to disappoint the will of the gods. Whilst your brothers trained relentlessly in their adolescence, you were to stay at home and assist your mother in the kitchen, perfecting her recipes, following in her steps patching up their training clothes whenever they got tarnished during missions and learning how to keep a perfect household running steady. 

The only escape you were granted was dreaming of the moment your parents would present you with your future husband, the faceless figure you were indoctrinated to long for since old enough to comprehend your life wasn’t just yours, your existence was part of the bigger design drawn out by the Archon themselves, and to reject it would be to repute not only your entire being, but so the faith your family and clan were built upon, and such disgrace could simply not be an option, as the dishonour and disgrace you would curse yourself and your people would be immeasurable, so you chose to keep your head low and be keen, always keeping sweet, yearning for the day your prince would finally come to sweep you off your feet and take you away to make you his wife.

That day finally came a couple of years after your coming of age, during the spring celebrations, your clan had decided to host that year’s festival, lavishly decorating the entire compound to live up to the past festivities, full of colourful lanterns, lavish food stands littering the streets, wonderful activities for the guests at every corner and most important of all, the entire complex’s flora in full bloom. Amongst the falling petals of magnolia is where your father presented you to your future betrothed, a tall light blue haired man named Ayato Kamisato, his presence akin to a demigod, standing tall amongst the numerous personnel members accompanying him, he bowed in such a regal manner and held your hand with such gentleness before he whisked you away to accompany you through the festival, you couldn’t be more thankful for your father’s choice. 

And whilst he stepped away from you to gather some food to eat while you finally got to know each other since, in his words — a proper lady should not take part in such trivial matters like money —  you looked up at the night sky thanking the Archons for they had truly blessed you with such a godly husband.

𝟐. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐭.

The wedding preparations had been such a stressful endeavour for you, especially after discovering you were not marrying just a man, you were set to marry the head of the renowned Kamisato clan, this single information had been enough to send you spiralling into an endless pit of overthinking, questioning if you even were worthy enough to look upon such glorious and decorated man, doubting yourself if you were to ever be capable to fill the empty place at his side so many others, who you thought to be worthier than you, desperately longed for. 

Now, not only did you have to fulfil your destiny to become a godly wife, but you also had to uphold the honour of your clan as a chosen representative in front of the notorious family, not a single step nor word was to go unplanned so as not to fall in disappointment to the Kamisato clan’s members scrutiny.

The weeks prior to the ceremony had both your body and mind as tight as a string, ready to whine out in frustration at any inconvenience or problem you were presented with, from the dress not fitting properly and having to perform the proper wedding ritual perfectly replicating even the position of your toes, to the choice of which flowers and decorations to use as the banquet’s centrepieces. But as thin as you were stretched you never snapped nor wavered, always upkeeping your soft spoken and gentle facade you were taught was proper, in a weird way almost reflecting the one of your future husbands, already unconsciously stepping up to the role of a proper consort with each day that passed. 

The most worrisome inquiry though, remained the first night together, having been brought up on the notion you were to save yourself and remain pure for your future husband, as he was the one the gods assigned to educate you and guide you in your marriage, you had to remain so ignorant of the subject as not to taint your mind. Funnily enough, you weren’t even aware of the anatomical differences men and women were born with, even though you were brought up around your numerous brothers.

So much so that that night, when Ayato bared himself to you, after having thoroughly enjoyed unclothing you of the pure white cloth you were dressed with earlier in the morning, and having explored and marked your body with his mouth as to claim it as his for eternity to come, you were shocked to see his virility in all its glory. 

You were left so speechless and devoid of any thought he took it upon himself to guide you, opening you up with his slender fingers, closely examining every change of expression you would go through, your thanks and pleas for more of this foreign feeling only helping in arousing him more. 

But his gaze held darker thoughts behind the apparently enamoured facade.

Such a pure little thing, so beautiful, graceful, and most important of all, untouched. So sheltered and primed for him to corrupt and take apart, only for him to put back together with the way he ought to be more suitable to his tastes. He couldn’t wait much longer as he watched you writhe underneath his ministration, he knew he should have prepared your virgin cunt with better care so as to not make it hurt, but he was also sure you wouldn't have cared either way or better you couldn’t. So ignorant of sex and its mechanism he could manhandle you as he pleased, mistreat you and trick you into following his lead because your husband knew best, and you were to trust him and his every word, as that was the faith you were indoctrinated with.

Ayato had obtained many things in his life, his swordsmanship, his honour, the leadership of his clan and even the control of the Shuumatsuban, but all paled in comparison to claiming you, his cock sitting snugly inside you, slamming against your cervix with how brutally he was fucking you, your thighs clamped around his sharp hips, and one of his hands was free to roam and trace the bruises and teeth imprints he left with his mouth, whilst the other slowly wrapped around your throat, holding you right against the mattress perfectly still so he could watch your eyes roll back into your head as he finally let himself succumb to pleasure before passing out.

𝟑. 𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

Every morning you would wake up in the Kamisato estate, you would thank the archons for looking down upon you and securing you with such a prosperous opportunity, before getting out of bed and allowing the maids to take over to aid you in getting ready for the long day ahead of you. The first thing on your list was to cook a fulfilling breakfast for your husband, even though his staff was plenty equipped to do so on their own, you couldn’t let your talents go to waste and so you settled for overseeing the cooking staff and guiding them into following your husband’s wishes for the day’s meals he communicated to you the night before.  

After helping him dress and get ready for the day you would bid him goodbye at the door like a proper wife would as he’d leave the household to tend to his duties as clan leader, leaving you to arrange the homely duties, such as staff shifts, organising events for the fellow clan’s members, basically just busying yourself with all possible tasks related to the household or social norms whilst waiting for your beloved to come home.

It was not uncommon or out of place to talk about children as a married couple, especially if you considered it was part of Ayato’s duty as the clan leader to conceive a male heir, to continue the bloodline, but after the first night as a married couple your husband had started to demand for you to let him breed you regularly as to ensure an offspring as soon as possible, which you didn’t quite understand the purpose of, considering you thought that only one time would have been enough according to your threadbare knowledge of basic biology, but he’s your husband, after all, he knows best. 

You’d be a bad wife if you questioned him.

So you always happily obliged, flipping up your skirts and bending over the dresser every morning to let him cum inside you, always making sure to thank him for gifting you his seed to impregnate you, before picking up your discarded underwear and making sure it fit snug enough around your entrance as not to waste any of your husband’s precious gift. 

You had learned that if you managed not to spill any down your thighs during the day he would reward you by giving you a subsequent second round of breeding, many times have you ride him right at the dinner table as a form of personalised dessert as he liked to call it, uncaring of the many eyes observing you from the walls of the grand dining room, all the while praising you for being such a good subservient wife for him, his precious blessing gifted to him by the Archons.

However, if you didn’t, he would ensure to remind you that wasting such a precious thing like the Kamisato’s seed had consequences, making sure to have you personally clean any spillage by licking it up yourself from the floor under his supervision, and with each misspent drop, you could be sure to anticipate at least five strikes of his trusted bamboo stick he liked to keep in his office, sitting right before the outer edge of his desk, always ready for him to be put to use as he saw fit, to keep all of the people the gods had put below him in check.

𝟒. 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐬. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

Your parents and elders had indoctrinated you with the belief that your husband was to be considered as holy as the god themselves, anything he chose for you was for your own good as he knew better since he was born a man, made in the image of the gods themselves, and so above you. Everything he did was for the greater good, he knew how to decipher the design the gods had in plan for both of you and nothing would stray him from fulfilling the glory you two were destined to obtain.

Hence why, when you awoke for the first time from a foreign pulsing sensation, somewhat panicking at the unusual weight you were feeling constrained under, only to realise your husband had decided, unbeknownst to you, to use your sleeping body to satisfy his burning desire, you simply let him. 

You didn’t object nor even so moved a single finger, happy to lay there and let him use you as he saw fit, after all that’s what you were taught. Always be a good wife, lenient and pliant for your husband, you are just a tool for him to reach his true godly glory in the eternal life, after all, you are there to aid him into leaving a legacy for the future to witness and as such you should always be ready for him, conscient or not.

And as you laid there, balancing on the edge between sleep and awake, you listened to him talking down onto you, how you laying there oh so peacefully had tempted him, that your body being sprawled in such provoking position had caused him to have sinful thoughts and because of them he needed to punish you by using you and could cleanse himself of his sin if and only he managed to finish inside of you. All the while battering your insides, uncaring of any discomfort you might have to face in the following morning, his gaze zeroed in on your soft features, never stopping the venom spilling from his mouth.

But like any good and righteous wife would, you apologised to him, apologised for your sins with half asleep mumbles you barely managed to conjure up from your slumber plagued throat, croaking feeble asks for his forgiveness, to please not hate how his wife could not restrain her sinful temperament as it was your original sin and cross to bear in existence when the gods created you to be born as a woman, that you would do anything and everything to help him cleanse his being, starting from letting him use your body to expel this deplorable affliction, with each and any hole he decided to use to rid himself of his disgraceful lust.

𝟓. 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

There were many things you still didn’t quite understand about your marriage, considering the only example of a relationship you ever witnessed up close was the one between your parents, but you thought each clan had to have their own traditions, or at least that’s what you would tell yourself every time your faith even threatened to waver in front of your husband’s actions. 

You wondered if your mother had to go through the same treatments as you as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror tracing the marks Ayato would leave behind on your innocent body early in the morning, in those brief moments before he woke up, the only window of time you had to think of yourself before quickly hiding the bruises underneath layers of eccentric fabrics, along with those shameful thoughts, and scurrying off to the kitchen to see if his breakfast was ready to be served.

You pondered on why exactly your beloved husband would feel the need to punish you so cruelly before the bout of doubtful thoughts got shattered by the sharp impact of the bamboo against the flesh of your ass, quickly washing away any considerations and substituting them with meek and genuine apologies for the inexcusable behaviour you were guilty of, knowing it was your place to submit and obey to your husband, and the consequences of not adhering to said conditions were to be felt and earned on your bare skin.

You constantly asked yourself was truly what the gods meant for you, every time he would choose to bend you over and empty his balls inside you, at the most random moments of the day, in any setting private enough for him to do so, uncaring if the mansion’s servants were present or not, if this was truly your greatest calling, if because of how you were born you couldn't have had any higher inspiration in life than to bear your husband’s descendants, if being used akin to a breeding cattle was your one and only purpose.

But you never voiced these complaints, always remembering the mantra that had been ingrained into your brain since you were born, you were to keep sweet and so you did. Always remaining perfectly pliant, bending and jumping over backwards to carry out each of your husband’s requests, and making sure you would deliver in the most godful way.

After all, you were born into this world just a mere woman, your private doubts were of course the seed of sin that had been planted in you by the evil polluting this world, tainting your form and impeding you from achieving the greater good and that’s what made you unworthy of being above your husband. The meddlesome hesitancy that underlined your very being was to be ignored and shoved down like a bitter pill to swallow, you were born a sinful being in your essence, tainted at birth by this cruel world, unlike your husband, who was born godly and blessed.

Who were you to go against his teachings and beliefs but a mere flawed being. 

And so you didn’t. You made sure to be soft-spoken and kind mannered and kept sweet, always prim and proper for Ayato to use as he pleased, keeping your head down and never making a peep unless authorised to do so. Submitting fully to his, and by the default, the Archons’ higher design.

"Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything." - Ephesians 5:22-24

He’s proud of being the older, more accomplished one, and he put in a lot of hard work to earn that title. He deserves it. But sometimes you do wish he wouldn’t bite down on the fact that you admire him so much, rubbing it in at every turn.

The door clicks as he enters, and your heart already warms at the sound. “Niisan!” You race into the hall to wrap your arms around his big, muscular body, squeezing a bit tighter when he tries to shake you off. A huff falls from him at your affection, kicking off his shoes. You pay it no mind.

You know how he thinks of you, calls you his stupid, clingy little sister to Kenma sometimes. But you have no other choice when you’ve had to miss him the entire extended weekend. “Finally you’re home, you were gone so long.”

He jams two fingers into his necktie to loosen it and shakes you off with the other arm, as you gently drop your arms from him. “Move.” His voice is low, eyes narrowing when you back up a few steps, your heart still beating fast. Any little sister would be excited, wouldn’t they? You can’t help but linger, blinking as you take in the small frown digging between his eyebrows. “I’m serious, give me some space,” he grunts out, and this time you listen.

Lately you’ve been getting on Tetsu nii’s nerves a lot. You haven’t been doing anything different, but every touch you give him, as small as the little pecks on his cheek you’ve been giving him for years and years bother him now. You’d stop, you would, if you weren’t so painfully touch-starved.

Even if he shoves your head off his shoulder or pulls your hair when walking past sometimes, you know that Tetsuro nii doesn’t hate you. Or he never would’ve offered you to live with him, right?

+

It’s late when the knock comes to the door of your room, but you’re still quick to slide out of bed. You step aside, looking up at him and softly following behind when he tosses himself onto your bed, then sit too. Your thin, frilly shorts ride up a little, but you’re preoccupied. “Niichan, can we cuddle?” You can’t help the pout or the whimper when he remains unmoving, so you crawl a bit closer. “Tetsu nii, please? I really missed you.”

Your sentence is interrupted by a pout, as you snuggle into his side ever so carefully. You don’t want to make him get up again. “No.” Tetsuro cracks open one eye when you rest your face on his pecs and slump into his side like a blanket anyway, and groans. “You’re such a crybaby,” he mumbles, exposing his teeth with a grimace when he pushes you off by your face and you cling on tighter. He pushes two fingers against your forehead again, but you shrug them off and wrap your legs around his thigh, whining.

“‘M not, just wanna stay with you, niichan!”

“But I don’t want you to.” His grin only grows wider the longer you hold on. He rolls you over to push your head back into the blankets with one hand and your tummy with the other, before getting on top of you. “You’re so obsessed with me.” You grab at his shirt and cling on as his grin falters, wetness tickling your lash line at how mean he’s being. “What? Gonna cry? Aw, is the little puppy going to cry because she can’t get what she wants?”

Another small whimper comes from you when his hand moves from your head to your throat instead. Instinctively you let go of his shirt, shifting when the fingers tighten on the sides of your neck. His grin grows wider when you still, breathing shallow when he leans his much larger body onto you to press you down into the plush, his face now hovering closer. You’ve wrestled Tetsu nii before, but this, this is new. The way his lips part and he licks them, putting his knees either side of your body, that’s different.

Grip hard and tight around your throat, and the glimmer in his eyes sharp enough to stall your breathing even more. “Tetsu nii,” you whisper, eyes wide when he ghosts his lips over yours and makes a small noise of contentment when you shrink under him. The curl to his lips vindictive, he presses them to the corner of your mouth.

“Not so noisy now, are you, my little pup? What’s wrong, hm?” His other hand trails up your ribcage, lifting your shirt inch by inch as you clench your eyes shut, his bright irisses too blown out, hungry. His voice drops as he whispers words against your lips that you can barely pay attention to. “Scared of what your bad big brother might do to you?”

“Niichan,” you move to press a hand to his shoulder, “stop. We can’t.”

His hand loosens on your throat, but only to grab a fistful of hair at the base of your skull instead, his hips now against yours and the soft rolls of his waist to yours painfully distracting. “Why? So you can play with me whenever you want to but now I want to you’re telling me ‘no’?” His breath mingles with yours, lips still almost pressed against yours, brushing them each time you shift. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s no big deal. You don’t know what you want.”

The sharpness of his voice makes your lashes flutter, and you look back up at him. “Tetsu nii, I just—” a gasp breaks through your words when the weight of his body on you is shifted, now fully pressing his hard cock to your pussy through your clothes.

Each brush, each push into you makes your tummy tighten, you can’t help it. Even if you know this is weird, wrong even, it feels good. So warm and close, this is probably the closest he’s ever been to you when you’ve asked to cuddle. It messes with your brain, gives you tingles. He knows just as well as you do that this isn’t supposed to happen between siblings, right?

Not the kissing, no holding of hips- not this needily, possessively- and no hungry fingertips playing up your stomach into your bra. But he doesn’t care. “We can’t do this,” you try again, ignoring how he pinches a nipple, rolling the bud. Small touches that make your entire skin feel like it’s glowing. “It’s wrong.” Your voice gives out before you even get to finish, going soft and desperate. He ignores you.

“Everyone thinks you’re a terrible sister, you know that, right?” he mouths, as his lips drag down your face along your jaw, then kissing down your neck. You don’t have to believe him. You don’t have to agree. But your stomach sinks anyway, tears welling up more as his pinched hold squeezes tighter. Your mouth drops open because of it, soft noises coming from you, from him, each time his hips rub right up to your sensitive pussy. “But I always tell them you’re not.”

The words come through slowly, making your eyes flutter back open to watch him. It’s true that Tetsuro was always everyone’s favorite, but— what did you do to make them think that way? It must be true, Tetsuro never lied to you before. He’s a good person, even though you bother him so often. The wetness in your eyes beads up at the corners, before running down your temples.

“I’m sorry, niichan.” Your voice is barely audible over the rubbing of the fabric or the soft noises he makes. There’s a hum, but he doesn’t pull away from you just yet. Open mouth kisses littering your throat, where he licks and bites down while you squirm. Sucking so hard, like he’s trying to give you a hickey. Your arms fall limply next to your body as he works. Niichan angles his hips until your voice comes out and you moan at the feeling, then pulls away from you.

“It’s the least you can do, and besides, you asked for this. I’m just giving you what you want.” His hand tightens in your hair until you wince. “You said you wanted it.”

But— you didn’t. You wouldn’t have, it’s wrong. No matter how much you love your big brother, you never said anything like that. Right? You shake your head, as Tetsuro’s expression turns icy. “No?” Your mouth is dry, heavy breathing suddenly stopping in your throat. His lips are flushed and swollen, cheeks a little rosier than normal, but his angular eyes are too dark and sharp. He looks like an animal ready to jump for your neck, his mouth corners quirking back up almost as quickly as they fell.

He clicks his tongue. “You did. Are you gonna tell me I imagined all of that, yeah? Why are you lying to me?” The sentences come quick, almost too quick for you to follow, as he glares down. His wide, muscular chest rises and falls rapidly under the black dress shirt, and he moves his jaw back and forth as he thinks. “Don’t you love your niichan?”

“Of course I love you,” your bottom lip wobbles pathetically as you try to wrap your arm around his neck. You don’t want him to leave, it’s all just a big misunderstanding. “I love you so much, Tetsu nii.” His eyebrows only get more furrowed at your touch, your tears. His hand pulls away from your body too quickly, before he pushes your arm off too. His warmth leaves you so soon, bringing goosebumps to your wet, exposed skin.

“Should’ve known you couldn’t do it, I don’t know why I even tried. You don’t love me at all.” As he crawls off the bed, you panic, struggling up and wrapping your arms around him as tight as you can.

“I do, I swear,” you press your forehead between his shoulder blades and wait, but he doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry, niichan. Please don’t be mad at me.” The longer the silence continues, the more pressing the desperation gets, and you squeeze your eyes shut. “Stay, Tetsu—”

“I’ll ask my assistant instead, how about that? Since you can’t do it for me,” he mumbles, and then everything is quiet for a few seconds. The air around you feels thick. Your belly is still burning up from the inside and it’s Tetsuro who made you feel this way. He got you this needy with ease, without blinking, which must count for something. You don’t want him to ask someone else. You bite your lip, before sitting back on your butt and wringing your hands together.

“I’ll do it.”

You’re not sure why it falls out of your mouth as easily as it does, but when he glances over his shoulder and lifts a brow, you’re already laying back. You push your shorts down, kicking them off. “Please, don’t leave. I can do it, I swear.” Tetsuro watches you for just a moment, before he bites his lip.

He shouldn’t want this, he knows it too. It’s about the farthest from a sane thought, but he’s always wanted to own you. His perfect little sister, the one his friends ogled when you weren’t paying attention. You never cared about any of them though, always stared up at him like he was the world’s most important person, the only one for you.

It’s not like he didn’t try to push you away, either. But your touches, the way your hands cling to him before he leaves, your smile as you make his lunch and fix his tie. How you press a loving kiss to his mouth like you’re still little kids and don’t even seem to hesitate, it’s torture. He doesn’t want to push away from you anymore.

If you’re naive enough to believe him, he’ll be as mean as he needs to be. You’ll understand, won’t you? You’ll forgive him for the sins he commits. Tetsuro drops his large hands to your ankles, before slowly crawling back up the length of you. Squeezing your thighs going up, pinching the sensitive skin harshly until you squirm and whimper. So fucking cute. Hands settling at the crotch of your panties, his lips twitch when he feels the wet patch there. He slides his finger under the fabric ever so slowly.

“You’ll do anything I say?” The low tremble of his voice is enough to set you alight, bobbing your head. Of course you will. His long fingers are quick to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in just his pants, as you lay equally undressed before him. He’s muscular, all sharp lines and angles. And though you’ve seen him undressed plenty, it was never like this, never for you. Your hands come to his pecs as he leans down, grabbing your chin and angling it up. “Promise?”

You nod. That’s enough for his brilliant grin to slip back on, one hand pulling down your panties as the other keeps you in place under those golden eyes, taking you apart for all you’re worth.

His fingers slide into the wetness leaking out of your slit, collecting it and swirling it back over your sensitive folds and your clit, and your thighs clench. He kisses you, breathing deep and pushing his tongue into your mouth much quicker than you expect, leaving your brain struggling to catch up. Niichan’s kissing you, he’s really kissing you and shoving his fingers inside you without hesitation.

His tongue laves at the sensitive spot at your neck, before he groans out your name. “Fuck, I knew you’d be a good puppy for me. Always so cute and needy for Tetsu nii.” He shoves the top down under your breasts, and leans down to take them into his mouth one by one, sucking hard. You mewl under him as his fingers curl deeper, scissoring you open. His hums against your skin so distracting, wet as he pulls back. “Should’ve just done this much sooner, look at you.” He groans, then throws his head back. “So fucking pretty.”

He flicks his thumbs over the pebbled buds a few times, then sits over you on his knees, and your hands fall to his waist. “Take out my cock, quickly.” His suggestion is gentle enough, but he still grabs your hand and puts it right over the hardness, lifting a brow. You don’t even think, don’t get to when he shoves a finger inside your mouth, hooking it on your cheek and pulling back so you can’t close your mouth entirely. It’s messy and it stings, and Tetsuro looks entirely too happy with himself.

But you oblige, unzipping the slacks until he kicks them off, revealing his boxers. Or rather the tent in them, a patch of precum sticking the fabric to the head and down the shaft. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, and he chuckles. “Looks like it belongs inside you, hm?” He jerks and curls his fingers hard, making your insides tingle. Then he pulls them out, shoving his boxers down his thick thighs to reveal the entirety of him.

Thick, flushed a deep, pinky red at the tip, his cock twitches. He’s so big, just like everything else about Tetsuro. “Niichan, don’t know if I can fit it,” you mumble around his finger, choking a little when he prevents you from swallowing.

“You’re the best little sister, it’ll fit.” He doesn’t even allow you to lift your own legs, instead hauling them both up and pressing them to your chest, and you squeak at the motion when he uses it as an opportunity to grab your cunt, rubbing his thumb over your clit and his fingers back inside. “You’ll take it all inside your wet, sloppy pussy, won’t you? Make niichan feel good?”

“‘M gonna try,” you slur, breathing hitching when he pushes up against your slit. “Wait, Tetsu nii,” you suddenly remember, snapping out of your haze enough to look up. His eyes glazed and focussed on your pussy as he pushes in more, and you try to put your leg down. “Condom, niichan!” He shoves it back in place by your ankle, and pushes in inch by inch anyway, making you take his length more with every breath.

“No, no, wait-hm— you -hng- put —a condom!” The last few inches are shoved in all at once, making you feel so full it turns you lightheaded. You crack your mouth open to talk again, but the strong grip on your throat makes it’s way back, and only a soft wail comes out when he pulls back. The deep breath is only a second of reprieve, before he pushes back in all the way and lewd squelches sound out.

If you had been told you would be the manager for Japan’s National Team when you were 15, you’d have laughed at the notion. Befriending Hinata was a random occurrence, taking on the roll of manager alongside Yachi in Kiyoko’s last year. You’d have never thought Hinata would fly so high he’s reach the top charts, and you even lost contact with him when he journeyed to Brazil. When he joined the MSBY team, he reached out to you for another manager position. Originally declining, you ended up picking up the job when you found out how much money you’d get just for washing jerseys and filling water bottles.

Division 1 teams don’t usually have managers, so you were a rare sight to see, especially on a team of testosterone filled men playing volleyball. Often you’d hear Hinata bickering with Kageyama during practice matches because you were on MSBY and not the Adlers. It was an easy job, if you could handle the constant harassment from the members. Sakusa and Hinata were nice, even Meian was sweet, but Bokuto and Atsumu did not do well with personal space. Hugs, cheek kisses, high fives, bear hugs that had you spinning around, they did them all. That.. wasn’t so bad, but they loved touching you so much they often didn’t let you go until you asked them to. They were also the ones who would ask what you were doing, who you were seeing, were you interested in them, and more. Without Hinata, it got worse because you didn’t have that comfort and support from a friend.

When they were recruited to the National Team, you were so excited for them. Less time with them, and Hinata would be back in Japan for training. This time, when Hinata asked if you would be a manager for the JNT, you declined. Content with your decision to stay, you were not only pressured by the members of MSBY also on JNT, but the rest of the MSBY team. When the National Coach came to you in person to ask, with Kuroo Tetsurō and Iwaizumi Hajime in tow, you had a feeling he wasn’t taking no for an answer anymore. You reluctantly agreed, but dearly wished you hadn’t.

An entire team of men who do nothing but exercise and play volleyball all day. If they’re off their game, it affects the entire team. When that happens, you’re supposed to help them calm down and maybe help them work through it. Sometimes, Iwaizumi checks them over while you talk to them. But sometimes, all they need is to relieve a bit of stress and your presence on the team gives the coach an easy suggestion. You can say you don’t want to, you could have said no, but he wouldn’t take it. You soon realized the coach wasn’t as great as many thought him to be.

“You wouldn’t want to be the reason we lose, would you? Carrying that guilt on your shoulders, it must be exhausting for someone so young. I can’t change your mind, but I know it would mean a lot to your friends should you decide to help them out.”

You did feel bad. That was the problem. Not only did the guys know you were declining the option to sleep with them, but they also knew that you knew it’d benefit them. The only ones who didn’t make you feel bad about it really were Hinata and Aran. Everyone else practically ignored you, trying to make you feel even guiltier. Hinata cheered you up, telling you over the phone or late at night that he didn’t like the coach for what he was trying to pull, but never did anything about it. Aran outwardly protected you, especially if Atsumu brought up how stressed he was and how there such a “simple way to fix it” and Aran was there to smack him and tell him to drop it. He also didn’t go against the coach, though, knowing that a word against the coach could be the death sentence for their time on the team.

When you finally cracked, you ended up going to Iwaizumi. You just couldn’t bring it up to Hinata, especially since you’ve known him for so long, finding it embarrassing. You explained to Iwaizumi why you declined, and that reason being you were a virgin in almost all aspects of sex. You had given a handjob to an ex-boyfriend years ago, but he was rude, so you broke up with him before you two could go any further. When Iwaizumi understood your reluctance, he gave you a new option. From you, the coach wouldn’t take it, but from Iwaizumi he would agree to it.

With guidance and help from Iwaizumi, you felt a bit more confident when the coach announced to the team members you’d be willing to have some one-on-one time with them after practice. But, he honored yours and Iwaizumi’s wish to keep your virginity, telling them they could only use your mouth and hands as they saw fit. With no surprise, Atsumu was immediately on board with it. Not even waiting until the practice was over, he took a break and brought you into the restroom with him. It was humiliating to get down on your knees in front of him, feeling as though you’d lost, but it was worse when everyone was looking at you two when you returned. Atsumu’s smug grin told them everything.

That was the day things began to change. Hinata and Aran were hesitant, but even they came around, asking for some individual help. But Atsumu ate the shit up, asking for a blowjob once a day if not twice. Sometimes you’d only give him a handjob, but he was good at guilt tripping you, encouraging you to do a little more or give him a little more love. If you weren’t worried of rumors or scandals, you’d have just quit when the option was brought up.

“Another good practice! Your serves are improving Tobio-kun,” Atsumu smiles at the end of his sentence, seemingly genuine in his compliment. Kageyama gives him a look.

“Says the one who will be benched,” he retorts back, starting up a fight. You and Komori sigh, as he sits on the bench next to you. Sakusa, who’s also next to you, crinkles his nose up as his mask moves.

“They’re idiots, the lot of them,” he groans, rolling his eyes. You let out a chuckle, but just shrug.

“Of course they are. Both blockheads with hardly anything but volleyball on their mind,” you reply, standing up from the bench. Another swapping of practice teams, another switching of positions, another refill on water bottles. Any job to get you out of the gym is fine, you’ve decided. Thoughts to yourself can be a bit more free.

Coming back to the gym, you stop outside when you hear Bokuto and Atsumu bickering. “I’m just sayin’, she sure shows me lots of love. Bokkun, she hardly spends time with you!”

“You’re always hoggin’ her!” Bokuto shouts back, then a ball being slammed against the floor is heard.

“Now, now, you both need to calm down,” you hear Aran say. Always the mediator, especially when it comes to Atsumu. “Neither of you have been doing so well today. Maybe resting is in order?”

“No, just tell Tsum-Tsum to leave some for the rest of us. Can’t relieve stress when you’re dragging her into bathrooms and ‘talking’ to her late at night,” Bokuto pouts. Had the conversation been on something else, you’d have giggled at his antics. Instead, you felt sick in the pit of your stomach.

“Bokuto, how about you take an early break?” Coach Hibarida said. A grumble of confirmation was said and you decided to enter the gym, moving back a few steps as you acted like you hadn’t heard anything. With your eyes widening as you saw Bokuto angrily walking in your direction, you went to go ask if he was okay, but was shut down before you could make a peep. “By yourself, Bokuto,” Hibarida continued, making Bokuto’s eyes lose a bit of shine and take on a grumpy expression. Deciding it was best to ignore it, you continued into the gym with the waters in tow.

Usually if any member of the team was alone, then you’d be dragged along with them. This time, Bokuto was completely alone and he’d be stuck like that until practice ended in the evening. With the sun not even close to setting, he was definitely going to go to bed early if he couldn’t practice. Going into the locker room was the first stop, deciding on a quick shower to maybe ease the tension from his muscles. Whenever he’d go into the locker room, though, he’d just get flashbacks of the first time you got on your knees for him.

Then he got pissed again. Remembering how Atsumu seemed so smug about the thing, telling everyone they’d better back off because he was planning on taking the top spot of your favorites.

“She spends most of her time with me, I bet it won’t be long until she’s asking me to touch her a bit more,” Atsumu had boasted.

The look on his face had Bokuto getting riled up again, deciding a hot shower was in order. But once he was under the stream and surrounded by steam, he was fine. The hot water soothed his muscles and the boiling blood in his veins, but it also proved to replace the thoughts in his mind with something better. Instead of thinking about what made him so angry, he thought back to the first time he got you on your knees. It was so wonderful to feel your hands finally around his cock, even if you seemed reluctant and couldn’t stand looking at it for long, turning your gaze up to him.

Remembering the way you looked up at him innocently reminded him of just how innocent you really were. Leaning his back against the cold tiles, he trailed his hand down his body as the water slid down with it. When he wrapped his hand around his cock, he adjusted his fingers to how your mouth felt, how it was so tight around him the first time. You seemed so scared of it, he couldn’t help but recall the memory with fondness. When you finally took most of it in your mouth, you looked up at him through those lashes, wondering if he was enjoying it. With the way you took care of him, giving him one of the best orgasms of his life, he could only wish for more.

As his hand pumped harder, he tightened his fist a bit more, thinking about how hot and wet your cunt would actually feel, wrapping around him. He knew that if he could just get a taste of you, he’d definitely feel better. He’d love to slurp and dive his tongue into your messy cunt, but he finds himself tipping over the edge when he thinks of how you’d look, teary-eyed as he gave you the best orgasm of your life. Coming down from his high, he looks down to see his seed coating his hand, dripping off and down into the drain with the rest of the water.

The water’s gotten colder.

Cutting his shower time there, he dries himself up and decides to go back to his room, filled with fantasies of you and how sweet you’d taste. With those thoughts completely taking over his mind, he’s soon sleeping soundly on the bed.

Given that the entirety of the team doesn’t live nearby, the practice gym is in a large building that has a dining hall, a nurse’s office (recovery station, it’s where Iwaizumi spends most of his day), as well as rooms for the men to dorm in. The rooms themselves are suited for only sleeping and bathing, including a bed and the bathroom with a toilet. Showers were located in the locker room, so usually everyone would wash up when practice was over or after dinner. There were some rooms that had a much nicer bathroom, including a small kitchen area, and those were given to the staff members. That included the coach, Iwaizumi, and you. Kuroo lived nearby and only visited occasionally, so he didn’t room in the building. However, your room was between Iwaizumi’s and Hinata’s, making it one of the safest places to be situated.

After dinner, Coach Hibarida asked if you’d be willing to check on Bokuto and take him his dinner. Fully expecting him to ask you to do so, you agreed and took the still warm food in a takeout container to the room Bokuto was staying in. It was about three rooms down from you, seeing as Sakusa was beside Hinata’s room. Gently knocking on the door, you waited for a response before calling out. Hearing nothing, you decided to test the doorknob and saw it was unlocked. Pushing open the door, you saw Bokuto asleep in the bed. Smiling at the unconscious wing spiker, you move into the room and set the food down on a nearby table.

“Bokuto, can you hear me? Can you wake up for a minute?” To your surprise, he moves, turning towards you and blinking open his eyes. The room was dark, but you turning on the light was probably burning his eyes. “Sorry, I wanted to tell you your dinner was ready, but if you want to sleep I can—”

“No, no! I’m hungry, I’ll eat,” he groggily says, but practically bolts up from the sheets anyways. Clad in nothing but some boxers, you look away as he looks at the food, eating away on his bed. “‘S good!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s gross,” you chuckle, shaking your head. You turn over the possibility of asking if he’s feeling better, if he wants to talk about earlier, but a part of you doesn’t want to because you’re afraid of how things will go. Bokuto is, well, bigger than average. Ushijima and Sakusa are nothing to sneer at either, as are most of the men who stand over 6 feet, but you still get scared whenever you’re alone with one of them. It won’t take much for them to decide they want more from you.

“Hey, did you hear me?” You suddenly heard, your head snapping up to see not only has Bokuto tossed the empty tray into the trash, but he is now looking at you intensely. “I asked if you were alright,”

“Yeah! Just spacing out, nothing new, you know,” you laugh it off, waving your hands in front of you. Bokuto seems skeptical, but says nothing more. “I was thinking of when you left the gym,” ignoring the bit you overheard, “you seemed so upset, I was wondering if you felt better now,”

“Uh, not really to be completely honest,” he says, rubbing the side of his neck. That sinking feeling in your stomach comes back, eating at your insides. “I took a shower to ease my anger, so now I guess I just feel.. sad? A bit lonely, even?”

“Lo- Lonely?” You parrot back, confused.

“Yeah, well, it might be a bit embarrassing for you, but Atsumu was telling everyone how you’ll probably end up giving your.. innocence to him, since you show him so much favoritism. It just made me feel a bit bad since I don’t really spend much time with you. If you’re not with Atsumu, you’re with someone else,” he practically mumbles, but each bit is loud enough for you to hear it. Bokuto usually uses nicknames for people he’s fond of, so it’s a bit of a shock to hear him say Atsumu’s name fully. A blush covers his cheeks, making the atmosphere seem almost sweet, like he’s confessing to you.

Almost.

“Bokuto, I don’t plan on giving anything to anyone except what I already do. That’s final. I don’t show Atsumu favoritism, it’s more so he’s showing favoritism over me. I can’t say no without feeling guilty, even if I know it’s just because he’s gotten addicted to it,” you explain, looking away from Bokuto as you talk. Fiddling with a loose string in his comforter, you continue on. “If you want to spend more time with me, all you have to do is ask. I’d much prefer spending time with you than Atsumu.” Or anyone else for that matter, but you don’t say those words. You’re here to cheer up Bokuto, even if you know what he’ll ask from you. They always do.

“Then, can you spend some time with me? Right now?” He asks, leaning in closer. He’s so close to your lips, you can feel his breath on your cheeks. Even though you’re not usually kissing the members, it’s not something you’re inexperienced in either. When Bokuto presses his lips to yours, hand behind your head, you don’t pull away. You don’t really do anything, but the main thing is you don’t pull away.

When Bokuto moves his hand from your head, you slide off the bed. Answering his question with that simple action has him hard in his boxers, the sheer size of him easily noticed through the fabric. His hand traces along your chin before letting you go, pulling down his boxers as his cock pops out. You immediately purse your lips as he goes to shimmy his boxers off the rest of the way, a soft thump as they landed on the hardwood floor. Looking up at Bokuto, waiting for his permission, you sat on your knees. When his hand came to rest on the back of your head, his beaming smile directed your way, you knew what came next.

Lying was never your forte, even when it came to yourself. The way you felt sick to your stomach never left you, but you couldn’t deny the arousal building in your core as you licked up Bokuto’s cock, hearing him groan in pleasure above you. A quick glance showed his head was thrown back as he kept one hand on your head, the other fisting the sheets beneath him. Looking away, you kissed the tip as he hissed, sucking on the tip before taking it all in your mouth. Well, what would fit. Your hands had to take care of the rest, rubbing and massaging the skin as your lips wrapped around what they could, tongue licking up the sides. Bobbing your head, you tried to ignore the obscene noises from your mouth, wet and sloppy as you moaned, adding to his own pleasure.

You knew that he was close when both hands came to your head, pushing you down even more until you’re pushed past the limit. Gagging around him, you feel the drool pool around your lips, dripping down his balls as you moves your had to his own pace. When he stops, shoving you down quite far, you screw your eyes shut when salty fluid erupts in your mouth, coating every surface. Attempting to swallow it, you let some beads of cum dribble out of the corner of your lips.

“Do you feel better?” You ask, the sick feeling in your stomach not going away. After a few pants, Bokuto’s hands still haven’t left your head. “Bokuto, are you-” you begin, but look up to see him just staring at you. Words get stuck in your throat as you try to decipher what he’s trying to say.

“I need more, please. I’m still a bit stressed,” he finally gets out, your face completely dropping as he says so. You’ve told them the boundary before and nobody has asked for more, you’ve always thought you wouldn’t have to worry with them.

“Bokuto, I’m not comfortable with that. Please understand. If there’s nothing else-”

“Please! Just a taste! I won’t even enter you I just— I want to feel like you like me, even for a bit,”

“Bokuto, please let me go,” you feel like crying, seeing as Bokuto has a tight grip on your wrist. You’d be unable to rip from his grasp no matter what, you’re completely at his mercy. He doesn’t respond to you, but he doesn’t let you go. You just stare at him, hoping he’ll choose to let you go. A fleeting thought, that is, which is destroyed when you’re forcefully pulled onto the bed. Easily maneuvered under him, Bokuto holds you still as you thrash and try to get him off of you. When you open your mouth to scream, he’s quicker to cover your mouth, shushing you and muffling any words.

“Just a taste, please, I won’t go any further. I just want—” what does he want? He knows what he wants, but he doesn’t want to scare you any more than he already has. If you so much as scream for help, someone is bound to come check on you. He’s aware you’re not treated like you should be, which he can’t say he’s tried to do, but he’s sure you’d warrant attention and help should your mouth scream for it. “It’s not like anybody would come for you. I’m just gonna treat you good and let you go. Just sit back and take it, alright?” He feels bad, especially when your eyes get all glossy, but he’s hit a nerve and you acquiesce, limbs falling limp as you continue to look at him.

He’s gentle, he knows he has to be. Unlike some of the other guys, he actually wanted to treat you right when he had time with you. Gently prying off your pants, he finds his cock twitching when he notices the baby blue panties covering your more sensitive area. He sharply inhales when he notices the wet patch where you pretty cunt is hidden, meaning you enjoyed giving him a blowjob. You look completely disheveled and innocent under him, a look he’s only been able to fantasize about. Once the pants are off, he’s using one finger to hook in the bottom of your panties, pulling the damp fabric away from your skin as you shiver, arms covering your chest as you try to decide where to have your eyes. They flicker to and fro, landing on his face before they leave again, going towards the door and then to the wall. You’re so cute, he can hardly hold himself back.

Getting the panties off of you, he momentarily holds his breath as you’re completely bare before him. Well, the sensitive area of you is bare before him. He could give you one of the best orgasms of your life with his fingers, his tongue, or his cock with it in front of him. He does end up prying your legs apart a bit, seeing as your immediate reaction is to close them. He keeps eye contact with you as he lowers his head, until you’re covering your face and biting on your lip, probably to keep yourself quiet. A part of him regrets telling you to be quiet, especially when he hears the cutest squeak from you when he presses a soft kiss to your folds.

Seeing as you always give his cock a kiss before going down on him, he only felt it was right. When he does a slow lick against you, he finds your body jerking under him. So sensitive, so sweet, he can’t hold himself back from diving into your cunt, wrapping his lips around your little bud and sucking on it. His tongue flicks against the wet skin, gathering bits of your essence on it as he dives it into your little hole. Diving his whole face between your legs, he moves his mouth up and down as he continues to assault your dripping pussy, lapping every bit of it he can as he brings your towards an orgasm.

When he feels your hands thread through his hair, tightening as your mewls are more noticeable, he speeds up the speed of his tongue and lets it flick against your clit while his grip on your thighs tighten. When your back arches and you grip him even more, pulling him closer to you, he gives your cunt one more hard suck before you let out a strangled moan, your own cum filling up his mouth as he eagerly sucks and laps it all up. Even if it was the only liquid he could have for the rest of his life, he’d never complain with how good it tastes to him. It’s not as sweet as sugar, but it’s sweet enough for him to lick any inch of skin he could, hoping to get it all up.

“Are you— Are you satisfied, Bokuto?” You heave out, chest moving with each deep breath you take. Your eyes are completely glossed over and your entire body is hot, flushed from the recent orgasm. Bokuto doesn’t say anything, just licking his lips as he massages your thighs. He continues to look at your pussy, seemingly thinking. “I have to go, now, Bokuto,”

“You’re not in love with Tsum-Tsum, right? You’d much prefer me, right?” He suddenly asks. You’re stunned for a second, but decide to just tell him the truth.

“I’d prefer lots of people over Atsumu. He’s a pervert who I’m not a fan of. I’m not in love with anyone, not even you, Bokuto-san,” you add the honorific, going to show how serious you are. However, it seems he’s taken it differently.

“Does that mean you don’t want anything to do with me? Being so formal, right now? You’re attracted to me, it’s not hard to fall in love, is it?” He starts saying, his body completely locking you in against him and the bed. His hands push up your shirt, finding a bra underneath that seems to annoy him. He pushes it up though, large hands covering your breasts as your own hands grip his arms, acting as though they could push him off. They don’t even distract him, his fingers rolling your nipples between them before he’s letting them go. “I just need a bit more,”

“Bokuto, no, you promised—!” You say, only to get three thick fingers in your mouth. They effectively muffle any protests you have, rubbing against your tongue, while his other hand moves your legs over his, his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. With the small brush, you start thrashing against, hoping he’ll loosen up so you can get away, but instead he just lowers his body on top of yours, his weight keeping you pinned down enough while he lines himself up with your entrance. “Bokuto, please,” you plea, although you can barely understand your own words with him muffling it.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. I promise I’ll be gentle,” he swears, pushing into you. Automatically you arch your back, legs tightening around him as he pushes in. He also replaces his fingers with his tongue, swallowing any screams or moans you release as he pushes into you. His arms cage you in as he kisses you, hips moving into you slowly. He break the kiss, muttering a “so fucking tight,” before groaning in your ear. “You’re so wet but you’re so tight, fuck,” he curses, giving a few thrusts as he tries to push in even farther.

“It- It hurt, Bokuto, please—”

“It’ll pass, shh,” he hushes, pressing kisses to your lips once more, then trailing his lips down your jaw. “It’ll pass, just bear with it,” he whispers, continuing to press kisses to your skin. “Relax, baby, calm down,” he continues speaking, even as he rocks his cock into your walls. When he seems content with how far he is inside of you, he looks down to see where the two of your are connected and lets out a low moan, rocking his hips a bit. You give him a pleased moan, low and quiet, head turning away from him, making him smile as he pats your thigh.

When you feel him leaning back down, one of your legs bent in the crook of his elbow as he buries his face in your neck, you also feel the breath knocked out of your lungs when he gives a harsh thrust. A gasp escapes you, hands coming to his back as your nails dig into the muscles. When you end up arching your back as he fucks into you, your nails scratch down as he lets out a groan, his teeth pricking your skin as you do. Sloppy, wet noises come from where the two of you are connected, filling the room along with your short moans and his low ones, mixed with groans as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each thrust buries himself even deeper inside of you, wet balls slapping against your ass as you screw your eyes shut once more, feeling a building orgasm coming on.

Before you can let the orgasm go, he stops and you whine, nails trailing up his back until they’re at his neck, him moving his torso up until he’s looking down at you, getting a good look at your face. When his thrusts start up again, he’s smiling down at you, eyes full of fondness and love, making you feel sick as you look down, watching as his cock disappears inside of you with each pump. It’s covered in your juices, translucent strands connecting the two of your together with each time he pulls away from you, making the sloppy noises whenever he pushes back in. Your orgasm washes over you as you watch him fuck into you, his thrusts slowing as your eyes shut, back arching as your body stretches out, toes curling from the force of the orgasm. He picks it up once you’re done, but he’s then moving and adjusting position once more.

With your legs pushed up to your shoulders, your nails are scratching at his neck as strangled moans leave your throat, even though you bite your lip to hold them back. Bokuto fucks into you relentlessly, his orgasm coming closer and closer with each pulse of your pussy wrapped around him. With the change in position, he’s rubbing you in all the right ways that has you seeing stars, eyes rolling in the back of your head when his thumb comes to rub your clit. Aiding in bringing you to a third orgasm, your cunt gushes around him, clear fluid splashing against his abdomen as he lets out a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt in you as you silently scream, his lips covering yours. His hot cum fills your insides, painting them white as he sucks on your tongue, lazily thrusting into you while he gets the rest of your watery orgasm out of you and finishes his own, cock finally going soft as he pulls out of you. The weight of what you’ve done, what he’s done, hits you and you begin tearing up, salty tears beading down your cheeks. Bokuto feels them and licks them up, shushing you as he whispers sweet nothing and gentle words.

With you silently crying on his bed, he decides to take a towel from his bathroom, wetting it and wiping away any of his seed that oozes out of you. Even though he pushes some back into you, a part of him wanting to sink his cock back in, he holds himself back. He knows he’s gone too far, you’ll need time to really process everything, so he just wipes you down and helps you put on your clothes. Even though he really wants to keep your panties for his next fantasy, he slides them up your legs while pressing kisses to the sweaty skin. You don’t say anything, just wiping away tears and snot with your shirt. Once your pants are on, he puts on a pair of sweats laying nearby and picks you up, situating yourself in his arms so he can open the door.

He takes you back to your room, the door already unlocked. With nobody in there, he shuts the door and locks it, setting you down on the bed. You turn away from him, hoping to just sleep but he doesn’t want to leave you quite yet. “Thank you, manager. I love you,” he whispers, giving you a kiss on your head before getting up and leaving. The shutting of the door spurs you into moving, although your movement is slow. Your hips ache, your legs and back are sore, your whole body feels numb, but you manage to get to the door, locking it before sliding down the wooden surface. Curling into a ball, you just stay there and cry.