#tw.manhandling

Back down the opposite way and to the blue lit 24h corner store you left mere minutes ago. The melody of the store chime is comforting, and you speed walk all the way down the aisle back to the register. The charming, delicate features of the young man across from you light up when he properly looks up, and he tilts his head much like a curious animal- one brow raising. “Babe? You’re back?”

“I’m waiting out your shift here,” you softly declare, sneaking back behind the counter where you usually dare steal a few kisses, and dragging out a shitty, plastic chair to rest your head to his hip as he blinks down at you in confusion. Eventually though, Haru just nods, his honey brown hair falling a little further over his brows when he leans down to brush his hand over your head.

“Okay. You alright?” You nod, and he doesn’t ask more— and eventually you two fall back into conversation, only stopping every so often to serve the scarce customer. When you two walk back home in the early hours of the morning, the people have gone, but the yellow tape still stings as you pass the quiet street.

+

The apartment smells of the cheapest of Chinese takeout when you drag yourself back inside late from work. Your boyfriend just barely peeks his head around the corner to come give you a kiss, gentle as he is, and slides back into his spot behind the stove. “Food’s here, and I’m just making some extra eggs for mine, because I gotta leave in half an hour.” The routine ramble is nice, you suppose, finding a smile on your face by the time you make it into the kitchen with him to wrap your arms around his back, and he hums. “Oh, one of your friends swung by, so I let him in a little bit ago- I left him on the couch.”

Haru’s hands are quick to pull you back when you let go, for just a second, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and one to your nose. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too. I’m gonna go see who needs me- real quick,” you smile, “and then we eat together?”

“Mhm, perfect.”

The door out of the small kitchen leads into the main room, and you look around as you swing your bag over one of the chairs- but find the space strangely vacant. Though a small pout comes to your lips, you just walk along, passing by the desk with stacks of books and lecture notes, to pull open the door to your bedroom. Your house simply isn’t big enough to lose anyone even if you wanted to. The bedroom lights are off, as you step inside, toes curling instinctively into the carpet; before finally clearing your voice. “Hello?”

At the very moment you turn, the tiny door to the bathroom swings open and a tall shape clad in all black steps out— and you jerk with a loud gasp, only to start laughing when your hands meet his chest and you glance up properly. Matsukawa’s dark eyebrows are furrowed in surprise as he finishes drying off his hands, before he gives you a ‘what gives’ sort of look. “You scared me,” you chuckle, as you lean in to give him a hug. “It’s been a while, how are you? And why’d you swing by?” The way he manages to move his arm over your head without having to change positions to throw the paper towel into the trash isn’t lost on you.

“Can’t a guy come see his favorite ethics tutor on a tuesday?” The familiar deep rumble of his voice fills the room, and you make room to trail back to the couch.

“Well, considering I dropped out,” your voice is a little softer when you take a seat in the squeaky chair, “I’d say that it’s probably a waste of your time. But I guess I’m pretty glad to see you again.”

Mattsun plops down on the couch facing you with a little sigh, before that same self assured smile you’ve always known him to have returns. “Don’t make me feel too special, teach.”

“I’m younger than you! It’s not my fault you took ethics again and needed my help.” The banter is nice, reminds you about the hours and hours spent in the library that always grew too rowdy for a study session. Mattsun’s a good friend. A better one than you are, maybe. His long legs stretch out to the coffee table, before he nods.

“This is a nice place. Cozy.” The compliment makes you feel all warm inside. Despite everything, despite the struggles you and Haru have to deal with, the money, the debt- it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it. Even if that someone is the most well accomplished out of your late friend group. “And the boyfriend seems pretty fucking smitten too.” His dark eyes find your face when you smile wider, lacing his hands together over his knee. “Nothing to add? Come on, I missed you so~ much. I haven’t even seen you properly for the last 4 months. Talk to me. You normally don’t hesitate to run your mouth.” He chuckles when you put on a faux-pout.

“Fine, fine, hang on!” you beam after a second of thinking, and roll your eyes. “Let me make a pot of coffee. You jerk.”

“You love it.”

+

You aren’t the most observant of people, but you swear… you’re losing more shit than normal. Some of the stuffies that were proudly displayed on the shelves are gone, and you can’t find some of your panties no matter how hard you look. And while the small closet in the bedroom is more mess than order, now you can’t even find most of your old photo albums, and some keepsakes from highschool and uni. But with your boyfriend catching his sleep when you leave for work, and you returning late- no one has time to go looking for clothing that’s grown legs, let alone do a thorough clean. So you brush it aside, and move on without your favorite pair of lacy baby blue panties.

It’s only when your boyfriend’s watching the news on his laptop one day, that it tickles something in the back of your brain. As you stuff another bite of pasta into your face, your hands still on top of the unfolded laundry.

A feminine voice flies over the topics at breakneck speed, as the honey brunet suddenly turns up the volume a little and stops eating. “Yesterday, another casualty in a devastating string of murders was found. Passerby’s found the body walking by an alley in Miyagi prefecture at around 9pm. The victim has now been identified to be Kawada Eiko, the 25 year old nurse that was reported missing a few days ago. Strangulation or suffocation are the two current debated causes of death, authorities say. She might have been the unfortunate victim of a lover’s spat, as she was found with blue panties constricting her airways. More about this at 6.”

“Turn that down,” you quickly breathe, and Haru turns over his shoulder with concern in his eyes.

“Oh, sorry. ‘S a bit grim for lunch…” He simply gives you an understanding look, before suddenly turning to knock his knees with yours. “How about you pick something to watch? Here.” His hands reach out to pull you a little closer, and cradle you against his chest. It’s sweet. He always is. And though you nuzzle into his touch, the story doesn’t want to leave your brain. There it is again. That faint flicker of mortality staring you in the face.

+

The stern face of the police officer- burly, heavy mustache and old- is exactly how you imagine it’d be, made very clear by the dead-like tone and eyes as he gives you an up and down. “This your house?”

“R-rented, yes,” you’re in the pajama-est of clothes from when you pulled open the door, “of me and my boyfriend.” The officer gives a tiny nod to the other two men behind him, and pulls out his badge to present it to you. It’s too early for your brain to function properly, but you still swallow at the sudden severity of the situation. “What’s- the issue, officer?” Your voice sounds even mousier when his eyes narrow in on the scene behind him, and your measly apartment feels even more inferior than usual.

“Sasaki Haru’s been arrested and is currently being questioned for multiple accounts of aggravated assault and first-degree murder. And we have to search the property, young lady.”

You stop breathing.

Murder.

Your head thumps, and you feel a flare of heat bite at your neck, clutching the door handle a little tighter.

Murder, he said. Haru… arrested for murder.

“We’ll have to take you in for questioning as well. Why don’t you walk towards the car and have my colleague escort you—” You focus as hard as you can on the words that are thrown at you, but really, nothing hits. There’s a blanket of static over everything in your vision. You might puke.

+

“Hey, breathe out. You’re turning blue,” Mattsun’s deep voice washes over you like a wave as you clamp the phone to your chest and try your best to relax a little, a warm, heavy hand softly stroking the area between your shoulders. It’d been a total coincidence that he’d called just as you were done with the hours of terrifying questioning, but as soon as you’d sniffled out that Haru had been arrested, he took time off to come over. Here you are now, hovering between sleep and frightened awareness in the painful, sticky seats of one of the dead waiting halls.

And though you’re glad someone’s here for you, because Haru’s parents haven’t even called yet— you’re also a little too wired up to appreciate the sarcasm and jokey attitude. After another few minutes of nervously fiddling with your phone and staring through the small window at the other doors, Mattsun clears his voice. “So… murder, huh.” His dark eyes are intense as they flutter over your face, eyebrows straightened. “Do you think he did it?”

You find yourself glaring, even though you can’t say why. “No, of course not. He’d never. He’s… he’s so gentle—”

“They’re saying there’s evidence, y’know.” You know that. It makes you want to rip out your hair and sob, because they showed you the proof. The dna, a kitchen knife out of your drawers, traces of the perfume you always, always wear— but you can’t shake the feeling that only if you could talk to Haru, if you could see him, ask… Your intuition tells you he didn’t do it. Couldn’t have. And they’re wrong, they have to be wrong. You would’ve known if you’d been living with a murderer. You would’ve. You just have to wait for an alibi to show it.

“He didn’t do it, Issei,” you softly end up repeating, and Mattsun’s eyes basically roll themselves as he looks away. “I’m telling you, I know him, and he didn’t do it.”

“Maybe- you just don’t know people as well as you think you do, teach,” the brunet places his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth as he leans in as glances over at you. “You’re wonderful, ‘n smart, and kind. But you’re also naïve, baby…” The last word falls deeper, and drags a cold shiver up your spine that only gets more intense when he doesn’t laugh it off, or look away. Luckily though, the door to the waiting room is pushed open that very moment, and a tired looking woman taps her clipboard.

“You can go home for now. Get some rest. And please stay available so that if we need you to return-”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you start, and wring your sweaty hands together a few times, “what about Haru?”

Her sharp eyes soften a little when finding your face. “He’ll have to stay until they’re done with the investigation. It might be another couple hours, or days. He can’t see anyone until then.” Your dejection must show, because she sighs. “Head home, child. Try to sleep some. You’ll be okay.” You barely manage to have enough energy to get out of the chair, letting Mattsun take your hand and rub a few comforting circles into it with his thumb. And then you’re walking home as he holds the umbrella high above your heads, and that cold only worsens. You don’t feel okay.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

“How about my place instead of yours?” Issei’s more reserved when he asks, laying an arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side a little. “Doubt you wanna hang out there now that the cops have gone through it all.” It doesn’t matter, really, so you nod- let him walk along the crosswalk and steer you down the familiar streets in silence for a while. It really doesn’t make any sense. Haru’s been at work all evenings that the murders happened, there’s security cameras to prove it. And killing someone in broad daylight, alley or not— it doesn’t line up.

Issei squeezes your hand in his when the silence continues, and you briefly look up at him to give him a little smile that doesn’t feel like it reaches. “Sorry I’m so quiet. I’m just…”

“Lost in thought, I get it.” He hums, before pointing at the long line of buildings. “It’s just along there, we’re almost inside. Then we can talk about it, or you can take a load off, or whatever.” The short chuckle is meant to disperse the tension, you know that, but even the tall brunet seems on edge. You’re still holding his hand, and you find yourself blinking at it in quiet confusion. But the thoughts are louder than logic right now. And if Haru didn’t do it, which you will yourself to believe with all your heart —you have no choice but to— how the hell did stuff out of your house get to the scene of the crime. You never lended anyone that knife, and definitely not the even more private stuff—

Issei leads you through the gates into the courtyard of the apartment, then to the door, into the dim staircase all the while softly humming. And you don’t know why your heart sinks as you climb the stairs with him in tow, because the building smells nice, and the walk to the door is clean and high-class. “Tch, you really are,” his low voice barely reaches, and you raise a brow. “Naïve that is.” The humming goes into a soft laugh when you turn to look at him, and the tall man smiles down at you. But though he’s smiling, the hairs on your neck go to stand on end, shoulders squaring. The vivid, unnatural sort of intensity in his eyes rolls your stomach.

And you go to pull your hand out of his, only for Issei to resist the pull harder. “Shh, calm down. I got you, don’t I? Don’t tell me I scare you.” He does, though. “Come on, princess, we’re friends. And friends are there for friends when they need each other. Now you're poor boyfriend's gone.” Your mouth corners turn down into a half pout, half open in confusion. And you don’t know why, you never felt unsafe with him before— but every fiber in your body is screaming at you to run. You want to. But your body refuses to budge, let alone turn your back on him. Issei’s always been a very tall guy. Tall, but wired with athletic muscles from the years of sports, and strong, and fast— and all of these things never scared you.

But they do now. The shivers that roll down your spine are almost painful as you stare up at him and that happy-go-lucky grin still stays on. The corners of your eyes sting when you try again to pull away, to no avail, and Issei’s long legs pull you towards the door of his fancy apartment anyway.

“Issei, let go.” Your voice breaks, and tears creep up in your eyes and your shaky whimper. “This isn’t funny, let me go.”

“Nah ah, I got something to show you.” His casual sing-song response almost makes you angry. But you can’t be when you’re too busy fighting off a full-body panic and planting your heels into the tiled floor. “I got something to show you,” he repeats, glancing over his shoulder again. “Y’see, because I really like you. You make me feel all- hm- good inside.” His curly hair bounces with each step towards the door, before he repositions his grip to hold around your wrist when your sweaty hand almost manages to slip out. “But then you went and got a boyfriend, and disappeared on me.”

He fiddles with the keys for a second as you use your other hand and try to pry your fingers into his painfully tight hold, and frowns. “And I- stop struggling- I don’t blame you. I mean- it’s not like I can even explain this little earworm I’ve got. About how you and I just fit together. I should know better, right?” He’s rambling so fast, and the door manages to be swung open, and you bite back a sob. You want to scream. You want to scream, call out for help, do something other than get pulled in further and further, but it doesn’t work. Your body refuses. Your head’s blank. “I know I should know better. Yet here we are.”

He pulls with his entire body to get you over the doorstep, and grabs your face between his hands to aim it up to his, squishing your cheeks until your lips are a puckered pout. And his deep voice goes low as he whispers. “You didn’t like my little stunt with the panties?”

It short circuits you. Before you get to think about it, you knee him right in the dick with all your might, and push at his face until he jerks back— turning and sprinting back towards the door. But his reach is longer, and he tackles your feet, sending you straight onto your belly with a loud, unforgiving thump as your head knocks against one of the book cases, and his large hands wrap around your ankles. He pulls you back a few feet across the floor, and though you try to kick at him, he’s quick to get above you and restrain you.

”Help!” you squeak, voice more air than actual sound. “Help me!” Issei grabs you by your neck and kicks the door closed with his long legs, before going to sit on top of your back and squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Awww, fuck, babe,” he groans for a long breath, before grabbing your head and pushing it down into the cold floor as if in punishment. The loud knock of your skull against the floor is enough to force your thoughts out of you. “That really hurts, fuck.” Then he shifts, one hard knee in the middle of your back. You can barely breathe, and the little bit of air you do get is obstructed by the tears blurring your vision. “Little kitty’s got claws, huh.”

“Issei,” you start to whimper through your hickuppy breaths when his palm slides down your neck and under the edge of your shirt, “please let me go. We’re friends. We’re friends, right? So let me go home, and I won’t tell anyone.I swear, I won’t- wo- please, please, ‘ssei.”

“Tch, don’t go begging on me yet, baby. I’ve hardly even started.” His large hands roam around your skin for a moment, before he rolls you over like you’re a ragdoll, and grabs your face again as he bends down until your noses are touching. Him, overtop of you, his free hand training down the surface of your thigh through your sweatpants.

His dark eyes glitter in the low light, animated and joyful despite the way you’re trying to calm your wheezes. Which doesn’t really help. The harder you try, the less air you manage to use— Mattsun’s heavy palm sliding to your throat to squeeze the tender skin there. “Hey, guess what.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, before he starts picking anxiously at the stretchy band of your pants, sliding two fingers under it. “you turn me on so much it makes me want to fuck you until you’re raw. But you might’ve guessed that already, right?” There’s a low chuckle, while you’re sniveling under him with wet cheeks and a hot face, before he starts tugging your pants down your thighs.

You cross your arms over your face, and Issei laughs a little harder. “Aww, don’t cry. I know what you’re thinking, all the murdering and stuff, the blood, the choking, cutting open— it’s a lot. But luckily for you… all of that isn’t going to happen to you. Look, here-” he mumbles, pulling your arms away from in front of your eyes to force your smaller hand back in his, linking pinkies, “promise. They weren’t you, so I had to get rid of them sooner rather than later.”

By the time he finishes talking, you’re shivering without your pants, on his cold floor and tears all over your face- and for a moment Issei looks like the guy you knew when he pouts down at you. But then he licks his lips, and the relief is gone. “And you get I can’t let you go after this. So it’ll be easier for both of us if you play along.”

Then he gives you a once over like you’re a slab of meat, and hums, whispering under his breath. “I like when they play along.” It makes you cry harder, but barely any noise manages to come out, staring resolutely at the ceiling as soon as his hand lets your chin go to trail his fingertips along your tits. “So fucking pretty, baby.” The lilt of barely veiled excitement in his voice makes you want to sink into the floor, to just stop breathing altogether. You trusted him implicitly, and- though your skin is covered in goosebumps, it barely sets in that Issei was the one who— 

You remember the disemboweled girl on the stretcher, the yellow tape. And bile rises in your throat, so you have to put a hand over your mouth not to throw up. Oh god, you’re… You’re cold on the floor, your tits being gently squeezed by Mattsun’s large, rough hands through your shirt as you try to make your mind go anywhere else, to no avail. Suddenly he gets up on his knees to slide his arms under you, and you start struggling against him enough to make him glare down at you. “Don’t be a brat. If you want me to-”

“Let me go, Issei! Let go, let go!” You’re squished to his chest, but you manage to smack him across the face and get a little bit of wiggle room, and he lets out a low rumble of displeasure, before dragging you further into the house and tossing you down onto the bed. It’s even darker here, smelling faintly of spices and men’s shampoo- but that isn’t what frightens you. It’s the heavy duty cuffs dangling from the metal bedposts, and the way Mattsun grabs a fistful of your hair to yank your head back into the bed.

“Don’t move. Unless you want me to get mad.” The painful tug makes you whimper, but you find yourself trying to slide out the other side of the bed as he bends to search through one of the bedside tables. Your legs are going a bit numb, toes tingly as you dare brush your feet along the floor and make a run for it. Of course, you have to round the bed, and he doesn’t have much of a hard time grabbing the back of your shirt. With one stern move, he swings you over his shoulder, large hand palm landing so hard onto the soft skin of your ass it makes you gasp and tear up. The touch pulses and aches as he slaps the same spot again, and now you’re crying- this time from the stinging of your skin as he tosses you down and forces your hand into sharp, cold handcuff.

His slight frown and the stern look he gives you make your body freeze up, but then he leans in. “You’re a dumb little baby, hm? You don’t get it?” His eyes are wide, pupils dark and blown all the way out to take up almost his entire iris. His hand appears from behind his back with something that glimmers in the low light, and is sharp as he pushes it to your cheek. “Not gonna play along?” The knife’s cold edge next to your ear makes you entirely wooden, staring up at him with shallow breaths and your lips trembling. As he peeks out his tongue, the knife digs deeper and breaks skin on your cheekbone.

And it hurts, clenching your teeth hard as tears spill over, it really fucking hurts. Burns, instantly making the skin feel taut and pounding and irritated. You gasp again, grabbing at his arm with a pitiful cry. “No, no, stop. Stop, please. I’ll play along,” you plead, voice hoarse as you clamp your hand around his wrist. The hot, searing feeling on your cheek and the way you feel blood run along your face and ear takes away all other rational thought. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. You want it to stop. “Please. Please, ‘Ssei, please.” The knife’s edge tingles as it leaves your wound, but the pain doesn’t go away, and you can’t help but sob. “Mattsun~”

However pathetic you must look, Matsukawa clearly doesn’t care. Because he groans, before leaning in to press his tongue to your wound, and then kissing you. And the coppery taste makes him moan into your mouth, while you try to turn your head away instinctively. His tongue forces open your mouth and melts with yours, sloppily claiming your mouth with a soft hum, heavy, large body coming to cover yours. He’s everywhere, as he grinds his hips into your panty-clad center and licks your mixed spit off his lips when he pulls back, throwing his head back.

You’re feeling a bit lightheaded, one cheek pounding painfully as you stare at him, and your one arm slowly but surely going numb from the uncomfortable position. But as you’re looking at him, he quickly rids himself of his shirt, and scoots you up the bed a little to drape your legs over his thighs. Even in the half-dark room, you can see them. The scars on his shoulders, his chest, ugly lines that healed over sloppily— proof that someone dug some nails of a key so sharp into him. Fought, and lost. It only makes you take a deep breath that makes a pinched, little noise. And Mattsun grins, rubbing his one hand along the skin.

“They were never close enough to you, y’know? Always something missing.” His one hand goes back to your chest, playing with your pebbled nipples through the fabric, before the knife returns and he drags it across your chest this time, pressing hard enough to cut your shirt and also the thin skin of your breast bone. “Oops, sorry.” The thin line of dots of blood that beads up has him bending to run his tongue along the little wound again, before ripping the rest of your shirt apart and sucking your tits into his mouth too. The warm mouth paired with the painful stinging and aching of your body has your stomach flipping and your mind blank.

Your free hand runs along his head to grab his curls in support, and his moans before biting one of your nipples. Then he pulls back to slap your tits around a bit, and running his thumb over the wound. Seeing the red before he slips it into his mouth is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut, trying to block everything out. And Issei chuckles. “Aw, scaring my little baby, am I?” The sound of his zipper and the shuffling of fabric lasts for a few seconds. Your heartbeat is so fucking loud, and the stinging is loud, and his voice is loud, and everything is so fuzzy. You open your eyes again, only to find that same disturbing look in Issei’s eyes as he rubs his thumb over the slit of his cock, spreading all the precum around.

There’s a lot, you notice, and also that his heavy, flushed cock is big. Really big, too big, making your breathing even more rapid. It’ll hurt. It’ll hurt, it’ll hurt, it’ll hurt— your mind blanks when he starts peeling off your panties and manhandles your legs around however he wants, before the thick head of his cock is lined up to your too-dry pussy. There’s some wetness there, but not enough. You tear up more, because of the hurt, the pain, the fear, your lungs aching and everything else- and shiver when Issei talks again.

His voice is low enough to shake your bones. “You’ll have to fit me, okay? Okay?” His sing-song teasing has you nodding your head, and he puts on a cheshire-like grin again. “Because when they didn’t, I had to cut them open to make room-” he points the knife into your lower stomach then, point stinging as soon as it touches and digs into your soft belly, “-and I don’t want to cut up my favorite girl.” His thumb rubs lazy circles into the top of your slit, brushing your clit, before he spits on it.

Then he lines up, and starts pushing into your tight, clenched pussy without giving you a second to prepare, placing both hands next to your head and pushing himself into you while each inch fills you up more and more. It’s such a painfully tight fit your legs shake as he pushes you all the way full, and keeps pushing. “Aw, aw, aw, Issei- hurts, that hurts-”

“Uhuh,” he just nods, and kisses you again, smiling into the kiss and pulling back to watch you tear up. He moves one leg to push against your chest, and starts grinding his cock even deeper, pushing you open too much, and you cry— only to make him pull back and do it again, groaning. “Ah, fuck, princess. Fuck-ing- godly pussy, agh.” His huge dick pounds against your cervix every time he pulls back and bottoms out, bulging your stomach in a way that hurts even despite the pleasure. But his body slamming against your pussy each time does feel good, as much as you hate to admit it. It sends tingles down your spine that makes you forget about the hurt you’re feeling. “Tell me it feels good, hm?”

He leans into kiss you again, before turning your face to the side to rub his finger along the bloody mess on your cheek and make it hurt again. “Tell Mattsun senpai that his cock’s your favorite. And I’ll make you come so hard you go cross-eyed.” The pounding of the sticky, warm blood and the skin that aches, the way he fills you, makes you feel it all the way in your throat, how loud your heartbeat is in your head and how your lungs fill only with shallow half-breaths, has you crying out long and hard, squeezing your fingers into his bicep.

“Mattsun senpai~ cock-ahg- hick- my favorite.” You’re not sure you recognize the way your voice sounds as you say it, getting your mouth full of his tongue again as you choke on it and the way he forces his cock through your cervix. Hurts, hurts, feels so good it aches. You can’t tell up from down when his fingers return between your bodies, and he jackhammers his fat cock through you.

“I know, baby. I know. S’all for you now. All yours.”

The phone rang once. Twice. Thrice. Your hand reached for the bedside table the first time, his hand pulled yours away from it, he wanted your full attention on him. The second time, you tried to catch the breath and do the same action as before, your boyfriend grunted in response, holding you still, almost pinned by the waist, against the soft mattress of the bed in his house. The third and final time, a gasping "Please" came from yours lips, he leaned over to pick up the phone and stare at the glowing screen before opening a cocky smile and rolling his eyes before speaking: 

"It's your mom, Mama's lil' girl," his voice remained calm as the phone was delivered into your hands and his other fingers, deep inside you, increased the speed just so Ran could see you get teary eyed as your tried to control your own reactions. 

You already knew what the subject matter was in that call, especially since, when you left home warning that you might be spending the night at Ran's house, the first thing your mother did was try to come up with excuses and obstacles to make you stay home as if she was protecting you from a world you already knew, liked, enjoyed and desired. 

It was obvious that she and your father were not the biggest fans of Haitani Ran, and deep down he understood very well why that was that way and agreed that your parents were just trying to make you not waste a part of your life that you might regret later — although, Ran didn't consider himself a waste of time or a mistake for you. The main problem was the age issue, he was older and gave you a sense of security and warmth that even the most mature guy your age couldn't get in a million years, and you were willing to pick as many fights as necessary with your parents to stay by his side, being his cute little girlfriend that he always presented with a wide smile and a proud hand showing off the pair of rings he bought in the first months of official dating. 

Ran understood where yours parents' concern was coming from, he understood even too well, but they needed to face it: Haitani Ran is not that bad. Not now, not after going through his entire youth being a delinquent for Tenjiku and Kantou Manji and Rokuhara. In fact, he had even stopped actively engaging in some other personal works with Rindou as soon as he started dating you just to try to fit into his father's "perfect, starched guy" box. 

"Yes? Hello? Mom?", you asked irritably trying to balance the cell phone between your sweaty fingers as Ran left wet kisses all over your back and tried not to make the bed sheets rustle too much, "Huh? I'm at–," his fingers curved inside your pussy and you bit the bottom lip, only speaking again when you were sure you weren't going to moan into the sound pickup of the phone, "At Ran's place, his house, yes, now, I'm with him!" 

Ran leaned in to rest the chest against your back and rest his face against your other shoulder, his breath beating over your neck and causing a shiver to run down your back and your walls to clench even tighter around his fingers, the adrenaline beginning to dilate his veins the same way it did when he and Rindou were in the middle of a gang war.  

"Tell her your boyfriend is treating you so well," you heard him whisper anda at the same time, felt his fingers increase the rhythm, the wet noises between your legs inevitably becoming more present and your head getting more and more dizzy, "How I am stretching you out so nice, she should know you are in good hands."  

You whispered a "Stop" to him and your mom thought it was up to her and you mentally cursed. The situation was thin ice and your boyfriend would rather get in the way than help.

"W-What? With... him? With Ran?", you looked at him and he understood that your mother wanted to talk to him.

However, your phone was not picked up by him until he took fingers out of your pussy, sucked them calmly watching you almost despair with the call still active and manhandled your body to leave you lying facing him, with legs pressed against your breasts in a typical mating press and his dick rubbing between your wet, sensitive folds and a deep breath coming out of you as soon as he took control of the situation and placed the phone against his ear.  

"Yeah, Miss? Ran talking here right now, you need anything?", he looked at you with a sideways smile playing on his lips and, with his other hand holding your waist, directed his cock to be flush with your entrance, ready to slide inside, "Yes, I am with her right now, she's kinda busy, but ‘m not, 'course we can talk, Miss." 

On the other end of the line, your mother was complaining to Ran that she wanted you home by 10:00 at night. He looked at the wall clock; it was already 11:30, almost midnight. And, truth be told, Rindou's older brother only heard the beginning of her complaint, the seconds later he was busy biting his lip hard and pounding deep inside you, his long cock kissing your soft cervix and making your walls stretch almost to their limit to take him. 

For you, it was the last straw, Ran had been edging you all night, always taking you to the edge of cumming, and it was exactly what you needed to cum with eyes rolling up and fingers digging into the bed sheets desperately, your pussy clenching around him and squirting completely over his shaft and making the mess of bodies in his bedroom even bigger. 

You didn't see it, but there was a smug, proud smile on his lips and he had to press the phone against his ear to concentrate back on the woman on the other end of the line. 

"10PM, you say? Oh, it's already so late, I don't think I could–", he thrusted hard into you, the headboard slamming against the wall and one hand forcing your legs to remain propped against your bust, "Sorry, y'know how loud my neighboors are with those parties, right? And, Miss, I don't think I could let your pretty daughter go back to your home at this time, it's so late, isn't it? Besides this–", Ran began slowly slamming inside you, "She's in such good hands, trust me, I even have some clothes of hers here, in my house, so we may have no problems ‘n–" 

This time, your mom gave the cell phone to your dad and Ran rolled his eyes ready to listen to him ranting that he wanted you two to break up, after all, where have you ever seen a guy as old as Rindou's brother fall in love with a girl as straight, as young as you? Unacceptable! 

But, the call didn't last. Your boyfriend hung up and threw the phone down on the armchair next to the bed before he put both hands on your thighs and really began to move fast and hard inside you; your moans finally being able to be released and the sound of skin hitting skin reverberating throughout the room. 

Now it wasn't just casual sex, just sex as you normally did. Ran was now in charge of fucking the worries out of you, it was his job to make you relaxed and not let your pretty little head worry – and he was great at it. 

"Can you feel me throbbing inside you, princess?", he asked rhetorically, and you tried to groan out a positive response that made him open a little smile sideways; in the end, you were always going to be his favorite drooling, murmuring mess, "'Course you can, you can feel everything just like always, right? You're always so sensitive." 

Ran, after stroking a little more, realized how close he himself was, the veins around his cock foreshadowing an ever closer climax. 

"I wonder if you're goin’ to be more sensitive when I fuck a baby into you, are you goin' to, princess?", you couldn't answer anymore, anything that came out of your mouth was just a mess of words and whimpers, "We can't know if I don't breed you, can we? So sad, I think I'll need to fill you up real good, wasting no drop, so we can find it out, huh?" 

If your parents were already pissed that you were dating an older guy, Haitani Ran could give them a good reason to be. 

Dress shoes pattering from the front door had your left brow rising. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as a form of a salute at the familiar sound steadily growing louder enough to be heard from where you are sitting in your bedroom just ten feet away. Be called crazy or maybe even paranoid, but from the countless times Haitani Ran comes and goes as he pleased into your quaint tiny home he gifted you, memorizing his footsteps wasn’t the oddest ability you have honed since he was welcomed into your life. No, scratch that, he wasn’t exactly welcomed by you. It was your mother’s idea before she decided to leave the earth after a not-so-coincidental household accident months back.

Nothing can always be a coincidence when a Haitani lives under your roof.

Knowing the song and dance like the back of your hand, the bright red nail polish you were about to open and apply to your nails was left open on the desk the moment you stood up. A bowl of frozen strawberries you were snacking on is left to thaw next to it. Feet silently clambering away from your room and to whatever place that seemed a great hiding spot. The beat of your heart was like a drum that has lost all reason, hammering against your ear as you searched high and low. Terrified at the chance of getting caught for the hundredth time, the initial plan to head for the back door was foiled at the sight of the knob twisting only to fail miserably since you haven’t forgotten to lock it. By the wise words of Ran, you have to lock all doors when you were home alone. But in this case, you and Ran weren’t alone—never have been since the death of your mother.

Shit. All known curses raced through your mind akin to a bullet train as you head upstairs to where Ran’s room was. The last time you were trapped in the bathroom by the kitchen, that didn’t end well for you. A hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your breathing, you hid behind his closet. And now, you waited. While hiding in his closet seemed to be asking for it, you knew the last place he’ll be checking is his room. That would give you ample time to think and plot where to hide next. Although, this would prove to be a bit more challenging because someone else was around to play your usual games. One who was eagerly looking forward to this occurrence, unable to mask his excitement when his brother approved.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?”

Ran drawling out your name caused a chill to run down your spine, back straight against his neatly folded clothes that exuded the comforting scent of the fabric softener that did little to no help. The tiny space slowly suffocating had you regretting choosing the closet as a hiding spot at the lack of legroom and provided low visibility of the room outside. However, it was too late to go out and find another alternative now. Not when your stepfather was actively seeking you out, calling your name in that sickly sweet tone that often spelled trouble.The exact tone he used to lure you into the guest room when your mother was out shopping for groceries, having your legs spread out for him so he could wet his dick because she isn’t the one he loves. Molding your pussy with the shape of his cock while his wife was out shopping for ingredients for dinner on a Saturday night. And you let him do so willingly. To have him bend you to his will and never have you feel the onslaught or an ounce of guilt that should still be present even after her death. That’s what he’s good at, after all.

Ran was good at making you feel the ecstatic emotion of never giving a shit to a point you figured it was alright to sleep with him. Your mother is just in the other room across yours. Shame, shame, shame. You should’ve felt ashamed. It should make you feel like a sicko, not as if you’ve opened the golden gates of heaven and tasting ambrosia directly from his lips whenever you are with him.

What a bad daughter you are for enjoying his games.

“Are you here?”

The door to his bedroom swung open, creaking under the weight of his hand, alerting you of his presence. Holding your breath, your lungs slightly burned at how long you stayed there, barely letting anything out—to keep this game going. It was far too early for him to catch you. Ran loves his little games after all. Without a challenge, his mood was sure to plummet faster than the vase left shattered on the ground the day your mother’s body was found by the couch. Cold and lifeless eyes staring back at you, all so he could keep you by his side at night. The empty side of his bed was warmer with you in it than the oozing crimson tainting the carpet that took so much effort to clean and dispose of. Who would’ve known your stepfather was good at finding the stuff he broke from the shattered porcelain to the carpet online to replace the dirty one?

“Where are you hidin’, pretty thing?” A ghost of a smirk was on his lips, violets searching high and low for any sign of you. Utter silence swept through the area save for your heartbeat banging louder than anything in your ear. But you shouldn’t really underestimate him. Haven’t you learned from the best? Ran was never one you could easily fool, those limpid lavender irises that looked at you with love now staring down at your crouching form with maliciousness. “Found ‘ya, darling.” Pupils darker than the closet you hid from. A squeak escaped your lips at the way he harshly grabbed you by your wrist, ass stinging as it skids on the floor before you stood up with wobbly legs like a newborn fawn about to be devoured by the lions taking refuge in your home.

“N-no, lemme go—”

A cry out of pain shoots up your nerves from the slap he gave your left ass cheek. Lips in a downturn as he dragged you downstairs, cooing whenever you tried to break free from his grip. Eyes widened a fracture at the sight of his younger brother chilling on the couch like he was expecting this. Haitani Rindou, tired from his paperwork, instantly perked up at the sight of you in merely panties and a silk camisole. A grin quick to spread across his handsome face enough to make a woman’s pussy go damp. Those muscles flexed underneath the white shirt he wore, sleeves rolled back exposing those protruding veins running up his hands. The sound of your meek and pathetic cry for Ran to set you free went straight to the two men’s dicks that twitched underneath their slacks. Your cheek pressed hard against Rindou’s bulge, his legs wide open while he grinned at your feeble position. Both of your hands were rendered useless as Ran had them pinned to your back. The tip of his dress shoe nudging your ass up in the air. Whimpering at how it brushed against your clothed damp sex.

“Such a pretty girl, isn’t she, Rin?”

“Yeah, I can see why you kept this a secret for too long,” Rindou grunted, fingers wrapped around your hair to pull your head up to see fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “So cute. Afraid I’ll take her away from ‘ya?”

“Don’t be stupid, Rin,” Ran scoffed, running his palm up to your ass before squeezing the fat there. “You know I didn’t want that hag to find out I was fucking better pussy.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I used her mouth, right? Fuck, why am I even asking when I’ll be tasting more than just this mouth,” Rindou sneered, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slapping the red angry tip of his cock against your lips. Seeing your defiance, he huffed and pulled at your hair again, eliciting a cry. “Open that mouth, slut. If you know what’s good for ‘ya.”

“N-no—”

“I said, open up. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Being denied didn’t suit them well, you know this for far too long. And even if you memorized the script down to the dot, the brothers’ intentions were always a surprise. Gurgling around the girthy length of Rindou’s cock, your cum filled gummy walls were occupied with Ran’s long one that never fails to hit that delicious spot. Tits bouncing at the harsh pistoning of his hips, pussy folds stinging at every stretch his cock did on your unprepared hole. Sobbing at the tip bullying your uvula, a throaty groan followed by a whine bubbled out of your throat at the sudden intrusion in your other hole. Ass cheeks parted, Ran hissed as he sunk his cock into your puckered hole slowly. Egged on by your desperate pleas muffled by Rindou fucking into your throat. Clit throbbing despite your pussy being empty now. The evidence of Ran fucking and stretching it was the ache and his cum that remained.

“Such a good whore, huh?” Pride swelling in his chest, Ran grinned at the idea of you reducing not only him but his brother too, to such an animalistic state. “Told ‘ya my darlin’ is good. Why do you think I always rush home afterward, huh?”

“F-fuck, she sucks dick so good too—ah…”

“S-shtop, plewse!”

Popping out of your mouth, drool and pre-cum connected your tongue to Rindou’s dick. Lips sore and chin glistening with your spit. Furiously rubbing his cock, Rindou hissed as he spurted his creamy cum onto your surprised face, dripping down your lashes down to your parted lips and chin. A salacious smile on his face caused your heart to skip a beat. Scooping up his semen with his index finger, your stepuncle was quick to shove it down your mouth. The taste is salty and a bit bitter. Even now, they manhandled you to their every whim, back now pressed against Rindou’s inked chest while your ankles dug into Ran’s shoulders, both of their cocks were still pounding into your abused holes. Your juices combined with both of their cum splattered around your cunt, thighs, and ass cheeks. The brothers’ pelvis and the base of their cocks weren’t safe from the sticky substance. Nor was the couch.

High-pitched moans and sobs mingled with the grunts that filled the living room. Loud enough to alert anyone nearby who isn't wise enough to know to leave and mind their own business. It is, after all, a quaint neighborhood that never snooped into the houses’ occupants. And this served Haitani Ran and you well, being able to continue such a taboo relationship even though the bonds have been broken since your mother died. Freely exercising the debauchery of it all.

But what had the blood leaving your cheeks and pushing against your stepfather’s chest was the suggestion he threw into the hazy atmosphere that instantly cleared your mind for a second.

“Think this pretty cunt of hers can take us both, Rin?”

Catching wind of what his older brother is about to do, Rindou fought back the urge to laugh at your appalling reaction before nodding. “Wouldn’t doubt it for a second. Such a filthy slutty pussy she has.” To prove his point, his hand went straight to lightly slap on your clit which had you keening instantly. Gushing around Ran’s length, you swore your vision was starting to double when he tapped on your cheek. Violets staring right into your eyes, hoping you could still understand him. A moment to catch your breaths as Rindou sat up, getting ready himself as his older brother checked on you.

“Remember our safeword, yeah, sweetheart?”

Head slightly dizzy, you blinked a few times. Nodding, you hummed in added response and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. Despite the taste of Rindou’s salty cum on your lips, Ran swore you tasted like strawberries—sweet and tangy. Humming into the kiss, he unwillingly pulled away to which you pouted at the loss of contact. Immediately resuming his role, Ran squished your cheeks together harshly, puckering your lips as he grinned at how vulnerable you are.

“Good.” Pushing you back to lay against Rindou once more, Ran lined up his cock with his brother’s up to your cunt’s entrance. “Now, be an obedient whore and take us in nice and easy for daddy, ‘kay?” The moment that statement left his lips, Ran slid into your pussy once more, lips parting. Hissing at the abrupt penetration, you mewled into the air. “Fuck, still so tight. How's this pussy still squeezing me?”

Once Rindou started squeezing into your stuffed cunt, tears formed and rolled down your eyes at how unpleasant it was the first time. Taking in two cocks wasn't a walk in the park after all, especially when both of them started thrusting at once. Groaning in unison at the way your warm walls hugged their cocks, milking them again for what seemed like the nth time for today. Nails digging into your stepfather’s forearms, a soft whine was what you elicited when their hips started picking up pace. Ecstasy was close to swallowing you up whole in the process at the way they fucked into you like feral bunnies in heat. It wasn’t until Rindou pinched your puffy clit that had your bones rattled, keening, and gushing around both of their cocks. Lungs gasping for air after the draining yet welcomed activity, a stupid smile graced your fucked out face. Beyond satisfied yet ready for more. The flavor of strawberry tingled the brothers’ taste buds as you kissed them both for a job well done.

“Another round, princess?”

Oh, how could you refuse?

“Yes, daddy. Would like that very much.”

As usual, Tsukishima takes pleasure in getting on your nerves, despite you constantly minding your own business. Ever since your brother's volleyball team beats his own, he seems to have a personal vendetta against you. You bite your lip, fighting back the urge to snap at him, well aware that it is exactly what he wants — a reason to torment you further. 

Huffing through your nose in irksome, you merely shrug in an act of nonchalance before closing your laptop with a snap. 

"Mind your own business. I like what I'm wearing, thank you very much," muttering dryly, you shove your belongings into your worn-out backpack, the laptop nearly slipping out of your grasp in a rush. 

Through the haste, you could feel his laser-sharp gaze burning into the back of your skull. 

"Haru! I'm heading to psychology class first, okay?" you holler at your brunette friend sitting across the room with her boyfriend, arms winded around his wide shoulders. The urge to grimace has a strong hold on you due to their overtly passionate kiss, tongues clashing obsencely, practically giving the remainder people in the room a free pornography. 

After receiving a thumbs up, you leave the break room, relieved to find the hallway deserted save for a few college students that only came for attendance, on their way to the exit, perhaps to revel in the solitude of their home or dorm. 

Oh, how you desperately wished you had done that instead for the next occurrence has upended a bucket of rocks over your head, shifting your mood 180°. The psychology professor had refused to let you in class, despite having trudged from one end of the school yard to the other in the sweltering heat, claiming that your name isn't on the list of attendees.

The universe certainly has something against you as you grumble profanities under your breath, heading for the administration room to resolve the issue regarding your new class arrangement; yet once the door swings open, the last person you wanted to see is sitting on the muddy brown sofa. 

"What are you doing here?" you furrow your eyebrows just as the crinkling sound of plastic fills the strangely humid air of the waiting room.

"Look who's in who's business now," Tsukishima sneers, throwing the cherry red candy wrapper into the bin before popping the lollipop in his mouth.

Rolling your eyes, you march past him to knock gently on the administration door, tapping your foot impatiently.

"Don't you know how to read a sign?" 

You do a double take at his words, scanning the mahogany door idly and spot a piece of paper that you hadn't noticed before attached above your head.

[On lunch break, be back by 2pm] 

"Must be tough being so short, can't even read an obvious sign," he chuckles condescendingly, the red lollipop in his hand shaking along with his chest, catching a glint of the fluorescent lighting in the room. 

It's a full-time job trying to tune out his patronizing, especially when you're in a particularly bad mood, but at the end of the day, you're only human.

"Fucking hell! Can't you ever shut up!?" 

Your fists are clenched so tight that it is a wonder the skin of your palm hasn't ripped from the force of your nails alone, though that is the least of your concern as you stomp past him, needing a moment away from his negative energy.

But just as you pull the door agape, a large hand slams it back to its original place. 

"What the he-"

The words die in your throat when you whip around and catch his eyes, darkening significantly despite the glasses in the way, while staring you down like a chest piece on a checkerboard nearing its doom. 

"Not so tough now, huh? weird. You were so feisty before?" Tsukishima mocks thinking, tilting his head to the side.

You wanted to point out that his inhumanly tall physique isn't making it any easier on you but undoubtedly that would only enlarge his ego and fuel his taunts. So you did what you do best – avoid his gaze.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" 

Resolutely turning away, you roughly push at his chest only for him to impassively lean closer, caging you between his arms. He grabs your jaw, digging his long fingers into your cheeks as a way to force your face to him like a kid demanding for attention. The smirk dancing on his lips aggravates a muscle in your jaw, igniting a desire to bite his fingers off.

"You got guts talking back to me like that. Maybe there's something wrong with your tongue. let's check… shall we?" he muses, popping the red lollipop back in his mouth.

You didn't have time to ask what he meant when a squeeze on your ass propels a gasp out of you. Snatching that opportunity, the index finger and thumb on each side of your cheeks dig deeper, forcibly unhinging your jaw. Leaving his thumb where it is, he shoves two fingers between your teeth, pressing down on your tongue, paying no mind to your gags as you shake your head and scratch at his arms in futile. The more you struggle, the deeper his fingers slither into the cavern of your mouth. 

Through the whiplash of events, you dazedly feel a bulge nudging against your stomach. Much to your disappointment, you have an inkling of what the foreign object is without having to look down.

A low groan reverberates in your throat once his fingers start pinching and needling the flexible muscle, pulling it taut then massaging it in sensual circles like a precisely practiced move. Tsukishima's other hand engulfs your right thigh, rugged callouses caressing the exposed skin, inducing an exciting rush of shiver down your spine.

"You think wearing these flimsy shorts to class is a good idea, hm?" he whispers tauntingly, warm breath tickling your ear. 

"Whas wong withs it? urgh-" teeth grazing his skin, you try to communicate properly, only for him to slide his long fingers even deeper, hitting the back of your throat, activating your gag reflex.  

A flicker of unease simmers in the pit of your stomach when his lips gradually lift into a grin as though by product of a marionette string. Dropping his voice an octave, he coos patronizingly, "do you want everyone to fuck you in these? Is that right? Little baby wants to be fucked in these flimsy shorts? That's why you're revealing your ass to the world? Yeah?"

You gurgle incomprehensible words, shaking your head vigorously, digging your heels into the ground when he plays with the pink muscle again.

"Hmm, we'll get back to that later," the blonde hums as though it is a regular occurrence on a monday afternoon, "your tongue seems fine, but let's test it further."

"Hmph. No-" you choke from the overwhelming amount of drool sloshing in your mouth.

Tsukishima slowly retrieves his fingers from your mouth, watching with a complacent sneer as a string of saliva drips down your bottom lip, still connecting to his fingertips; all the while, making an extravagant scene of sucking on his candy stick before pulling it out with a smack.

The humiliating act is apparently not enough for the irritating blonde; thus, he brazenly inserts the lollipop into your open mouth whilst you are breathing heavily, gripping the doorknob for leverage considering his demeaning ministrations have physically weakened your knees. 

"Don't-" your voice comes out muffled, attempting to wrestle out of his iron grip for the umpteenth time. As a last resort, you decide to aim for his shin and steadfastly kick with all your might, inducing harsh profanities and hisses to fill your ears. The consequences of your action can easily be neglected when you feel an immense satisfaction knowing that the pretentious middle blocker's resolve is crumbling. 

You couldn't have been more wrong.

With a murderous glare, Tsukishima slaps your ass so hard that the sound echoes loudly through the empty room. Skin burning, you can only look at him in shock. He hauls you into his arms, both palms supporting your searing bottom, your back pressed snugly against the door, leaving almost no room to breathe.

Closing his hand around the lollipop between your lips, he pulls it out and proceeds to glide his tongue around the sphere, wetting it thoroughly in his saliva while you're still adjusting to the pain. Then, he did the unthinkable — spit on the candy. 

"Now suck," the blonde demands like the tyrant that he is, raising the devil-red candy to your lips, dripping in his saliva. Brows furrowing, your entire face heats up, astounded by his audacity. 

The fingers shoved in your mouth was degrading as it is, but to swallow his saliva – you can't wish for the administrator to come back soon enough. 

Nervously glancing at his grim face through your eyelashes, you virtually beg for him to spare your dignity, "I-I can't, Tsukishima, please, that's gross…"

"I said. Suck. It." he grits his teeth, abruptly thrusting his clothed crotch against yours, eliciting a small yelp out of you.

With his vividly golden eyes staring into your tainted soul, crouching like a predator anticipating another outburst, you reluctantly begin hollowing out your mouth, closing your trembling lips around the plastic stick before sucking on the disgustingly moist candy. Keeping your gaze firmly on his knuckles, you ignore his piercing stare, silently wishing for the earth to crack open and swallow you up.

Fortunately, the strawberry taste distracts you from the other taste that makes you want your tongue scorched in hellfire. 

"There you go. Wasn't so hard, was it?" he coos degradingly, lightly brushing strands of hair out of your face. If it wasn't for his debasing speech, you would've mistaken it for something intimate, "the baby can take orders after all."

"Open," he taps your chin, raising a blonde brow expectantly.

You don't need to be told twice, letting your jaw hang open for his eyes to feast on the view of the lollipop sitting heavily on your tongue. 

"Now swirl your tongue around it." 

Once you comply with a bated breath, a guttural grunt vibrates in his chest, "look how good you are for me. My little pet."

You gasp at the sudden name-calling, affronted by the choice of word that no one has ever dared to address you; and yet, your lower belly churns like hot lava with a pleasurable sensation that leaves a bitter aftertaste. This harassment has gone on long enough, but why you are letting it continue is beyond you. 

Nonetheless, when your gaze shifts to his face, every intrusive thought becomes of unimportance. The pure animalistic lust in his eyes calls out to you like a songbird, and strangely enough, you’re willing to step into the trap just to feel more. 

His large, veiny hand trails from your ass to your supple thighs, leisurely drawing shapes on the skin with a surprisingly gentle touch. You almost stop breathing when his fingertips graze the inside of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your private part. 

"You want me to touch you?" He teases maliciously, hovering a hand over your pelvic area, "are you gonna beg for it?"

"No. S-shut up."

He hums, now trailing both hands up and down your thighs, refusing to go beyond despite your squirming. The wiser part of you realizes the opportunity to escape, but the desperation for a sensuous release has a stronger hold on you.

When you thought there is some self-control left, your hips begin grinding on his crotch with a mind of its own, in a purchase of satiating the immeasurable hunger, evoking a sound that’s caught between a growl and a moan to stumble from his lips. 

"Getting bold, aren't we?" He hisses, balling up his fists around your hips, scrunching the thin material of your shirt, "you like being degraded after all," he matches the pace of your grinding with more precision, choosing to surrender his teasing.

"You like being called a pet, like being talked down to, like drooling all over yourself, hm? You like humping on me like a bitch in heat, is that right?" 

Too caught up in the pleasure, his words don't fully register into your foggy brain, only dazedly nodding along, biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moans.

"Show me what you got." 

That is all the cue you need to start hastily and forcefully grinding down on his bulge, sliding one hand to the base of his skull and tugging on his blond hair, mesmerized by the sound of his sensual groans. Picking up the pace, the front of your shorts rub against his crotch so fast that you feel your back slipping down the door from the amount of sweat you produced, too lost in the pleasure to care anymore. 

The delicious friction created between his khaki trousers and your shorts has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, underwear soaked in your juices, creating a wet patch on the polyester material. 

"Yeah? You like that?" He lowers into the crook of your neck, licking your sweet spot wantonly like a man starved.

"Yesh, Tsukki, more-" you whimper pathetically through your left hand, the lollipop that you've long forgotten digs into your gums painfully and for a split second, your taste buds drown in the strawberry taste. 

The vigorous sucking on the base of your neck persists, you jump when his teeth grazes a certain sensitive spot, no doubt leaving purple marks later like a reminder of ownership. Once you start squirming, he pulls away, forehead glistening with sweat, blood rushing to his cheeks as his grunts increase in volume. 

"More more," you squeeze your eyes shut, pinching his shirt that is damp in sweat, willing for his hips to thrust faster.

"Look at me." He growls ominously, shooting a zap of electric currents through your veins as he hooks an elbow under your left knee for a different angle that immensely heightens the bliss. Driving his groin harder into you as you both heave, drunk in the pleasure of clothed sex like a couple of horny teens. You steady the eye contact despite the continuous jolts that harshly slam you against the door.

The knot in your stomach tightens like a catapult ready to spring to action, heavy pants echoing against the walls that are seemingly closing in on you two. His spicy cologne mixed with the pungent smell of sweat swirls into your nose, puncturing your lungs, yet you find yourself inhaling for more.  

You fail to notice his hand crawling beneath your shirt until a light caress on your nipple tips you over the edge and you come crashing through the gates, legs twitching, toes curling, mouth open in a silent scream. The crown of your head is pulled higher through a string of euphoria that rush through your bloodstream like hot iron, feeling nothing but the heat scorching your insides.

Through your orgasm, his hips keep thrusting at a breakneck speed as though possessed, hurriedly chasing his high with curses flying out of his lips, and then he stills before violently trembling, "s-shit shit shit."

Your entire body wracking in shivers, you drag him by the back of his neck into your chest, still breathing heavily, vision hazy as you comb his hair through the ecstasy. For a moment, everything is silent save for your lethargic breaths mingling, the sticky warmth provides a sense of comfort and perhaps, you don't ever want to leave.

Distantly, you feel the soaking wet fabric of his pants rubbing against your own once he leans back, emitting longer exhales. His pale skin glistens, cheeks tinted red, glasses fogged up, hindering your view of his gaze which drives your temptation to take it off his face but you resist.

"That was something," you conclude after a brief moment of stunned silence with your arms still wrapped around his neck. You close your eyes, letting the waves of tingles cool down before you digest the situation. You were both so caught up in the pleasure, every logical thought had long disintegrated to ashes. 

"Yeah…" his voice comes out hoarse, "and you still have the lollipop in your mouth? Good job." He whispers gruffly before leaving a chaste kiss on a spot below your ear. 

“I thought you were a good girl, but here you are getting wet in this church.” You could feel the disappointment in his words, a small smirk blossoms on your face, knowing exactly how it will end.

“I’m sorry daddy, I’ve been a bad girl” You playfully remark, as his rough fingers pad the wet patch on your tong.

Taiju’s golden eyes frown at your overly playfully look, he sighs before shaking his head, disappointed.

“For the last time, it’s Forgive me Father for I have sinned.”

You almost laugh, between all the things he could have said, he decided to be picky about that? It’s hilarious, how he focused on the sentence, rather how wet you are thanks to him.

“So daddy… Will you punish me?” You innocently murmur, batting your eyelashes and placing a wet kiss over his neck.

Taiju’s look became unreadable for a few seconds, before he sighs once again and grabs your wrist, manhandling you on his lap. Face down and ass up, the fabric covering your skin slowly is risen up, letting Taiju see your ass.

Before you can even say a word, he lands a slap across your ass, making you gasp.

“I need to purify your soul first, poor lost lamb. Father will guide you.” His tone seems paternalistic, but you can sense pure and raw lust, the uncontrollable desire to sin, and you succeed in breaking his moral compass.

You feel his hands hovering your skin, but instead of slapping your skin, he swiftly removes your tong, now dangling on your ankle.

Two digits start pumping in and out, while his thumb is paying attention to your throbbing clit. The only things that could be heard in the room, are your moans and wet sounds of your pussy, but if you pay attention closely, you could hear some soft grunts leaving Taiju’s lips.

Something hard pokes your stomach, and judging how hard Taiju is trying to not getting hard, it seems he failed. You won, before you could chant victory and reach your orgasm, he throws you on the ground.

“D-Daddy!? Why?! I want my orgasm!” You whine, but he shakes his head and grabs your hair, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

“You aren’t purified enough, lost lamb… Maybe I should purify your mouth.”

It smells like blood and fear inside the room. What did he do to her ?

It smells like blood and fear inside the room. What did he do to her ?

It smells like blood and fear inside the room. What did he do to her ?

“Sit” He says without looking at you. His feather his scratching the parchment and you already know you don’t like him. He’s everything you despise.

“Sit” He says without looking at you. His feather his scratching the parchment and you already know you don’t like him. He’s everything you despise.

The kind of man close minded, bigot, rude, ruthless. He may be a priest but he looks nothing like one. It’s just the almighty’s armed arm in front of you. A warrior that never really left the battlefield. You can tell he’s still at war in his mind. And you, his next opponent. Justice will be served with eyes wide open. You know that. You are well aware.

“Name ?” He ask, still not looking at you. You answer begrudgingly and he stops writting.

His eyes are searching for you before he even lift his head and you know it’s your first mistake. Indeed, he’s not the kind of man to tolerate such tone.

He take a deep breath and you know he’s already annoyed. Whatever.

“Are you baptized ?” You have almost time to answer, he’s already asking another question. And another one. And another one.

« Do you pray ? »

« I d- »

« Do you love God ? »

You frown but answer again « With all my heart »

« Have you ever done anything wrong ? »

« No ! »

« Why ? » he says without taking any break.

« Excuse m- »

« Why do you live alone ? Why aren’t you married? »

« Because I don’t need a man to take care of myself. »

Taiju gives you the cold shoulder. He doesn’t like what you said.

« This is not for you to decide. You should get married, obey your husband and produce children to honor our God as he commands you to. God as plan for the weakest sex... for everyone of us. »

« Then why aren’t you married ? »

You see him curl his fists really tight and grit his teeth. Oh, now he’s really pissed…

« I was fighting God’s enemies in the holy crusade.”

« Enemies ? Didn’t he created the humans to his own image ? Then do you really think he’s happy to see you killing his children ? »

A vein of anger dawn on his forehead, he opens his mouth and answer with a calm tone despite his murdurous stare.

« This is not for you to ask questions. And I do not expect for a woman to understand God’s will. »

You smirk and give him back the very same look. You hate him so much.

It’s a battle you are not going to let him win.

When he leaves his chair you straighten up a bit and think about that smell of steel in his office. Is it your blood he’s coming for now ?

He comes before you and leans on his desk, crossing his arms and you can see another vein running under the skin of his muscular forearm.

You didn’t realize he was so tall. So beefy. If you stand up, you can barely meet his torso. Most of men out there are not that tall.

And you can see why he is one famous holy knight. He matches every stereotypes the Church his looking for its army.

But in no way you’re going to play coy with him. You will not let him intimidate you. You’re a fierce and independant woman. And at that time, you still think no one can bring you down.

“Do you have anything to say, woman ?”

“Like what ?”

He squint and you can tell he is slowly losing patience.

“Witches have marks or stains on their body. Do you ? “

You try not to laugh at his face. This is ridiculous. “No I do not ! Of course no.”

But he catches your tone again and sight before going back to his seat. After a moment he speaks up “You do know lying is a sin don’t you ? And it is even worst when you do it in God’s house.” He looks at you and straighten up in his chair. “God may forgive you for your sins, but I won’t.”

And this is more than you can handle. You know your next move will not be the smartest considering he has the power to kill you on the spot but you can’t stop yourself.

You stand up and come closer to him. At the same time he push back his chair, always facing the enemy but he is not prepared for that.

“Then, should you inspect my body to make sure I am not lying ?”

You put your foot on the chair, between his legs and grab the hem of your skirt  you lift to show your bare leg.

He keeps looking at your face, inhaling sharply at your outrageous behavior but he doesn’t show you any other feeling. As a man of God, he knows he can’t bring himself to look at your body.

“See father ? There is nothing more than the promise land for a real man. Nothing else.”

And he knows that if he looks, it might be a sin but if he doesn’t, it means you are right and he is not a real man.

And he can’t let that happen. Ever.

His pride take over while he supports your gaze and then Taiju slowly lower his eyes to your legs.

« Are you trying to tempt me devil worshiper ? » He doesn’t wait for an answer and grabs your calf in his big hand. You didn’t expected a cold man to have such warm palms and it makes you shiver.

He pulls it forward so you unfold your leg and your mouth opens a little. Maybe this was not a good idea. You can’t fool him.

He looks at you without smiling and put his hand on yours so he can make you lift your skirt a little highter. Your thigh is now on sight for him to take a closer look at your skin.

His stare hover over you, looking closely for any marks. His hands are roaming and you feel your heart beat fast. No one has ever touched you like this. No one has ever seen your legs like this.

You decide it’s enought and try to lower your skirt, but the look he gives you tells you otherwise. And you know, you know surely, that if you do this, he will think you have something to hide and you’ll be done.

Instead, you look away, enable to support his gaze.

« I-I do not worship the devil. » and again, he’s fast to reply. « But you don’t fear the Almighty either ».

You chuckle ironically « I do fear God. But I don’t fear you...” His hand tighten unnecessarily on the smooth skin of your thigh and you breath hard, adding “unless you want to be God ?”

You gasp when his hands spread your tighs to look at the thin skin inbetween and you can’t stop yourself being upfront « Or do you want me to worship you like Him? »

The moment it past your lips, you know you’ve gone too far. You should’ve never said that.

Taiju is quick to react. He pushes you from him and grabs your throat, squeezing hard.

You let your skirt fall down in place and put your tiny hands over his big warm palm.

«  Let me go ! »

He push you furiously until your back hit the edge of his desk and gets so close to your lips you can feel his breath when he whispers.

« Blasphemy ! I am not going to let a filthy whore speaks the Lord’s name in vain in his own house ! I have put people at the stake for less than that ! ”

« I am not a whore ! » you say trying to breath but he’s so strong you can’t do anything.

« Yes you are ! If you were not, you would not have talked to me like that  woman, or let me see your legs. You should have reacted like the others. You are supposed to deny me the view, and stay a virgin until God finds you a good religious husband or you take holy orders ! »

He continue to call you names and witch, not letting you go. The more you try to fight back, the more he applies pressure on your throat and when he leans on you, you start to feel his hard on.

He will never admit it, but you did something to him. And the strange feeling you had when he was caressing your legs had his own call at the other end.

And he’s furious, because for the first time he can’t control his body. He can’t control the effect you, a witch, had on him.

You put your hands on his chest and you try to push him away, but he’s so strong compared to you. The crusader doesn’t move and you start to see black and white dots.

You let one of your hand run down his chest to his crotch in a desperate attempt and he feels your hand on his shaft.

Utterly shoked by the feeling that rush under his skin, he let go of you and back up.

You push him away when he comes back to you like a raging bull. « I am not a witch, I am not a whore and I am still a virgin ! I did nothing wrong to offense our God ! But look at you ! Lusting after me ! »

When he opens his mouth you shut him up, using the same warnings as him. « Don’t you dare lying in God’s house priest ! It is a sin you cannot forgive, remember ? »

This time, Taiju is left without anything to say. He feels remorse and something else when he looks at your face he can’t put up with.

You know something is out of place for you too. You hate him but what you felt everytime his hands were merging with your skin, even for the worst part had made your blood rush.

You decide not to stay any longer and take your leave, running out of the church but his soldiers are blocking the way out.

He comes after you and stops when he sees his men’s back because he can’t let them see him in such an embarrassing state.

He grabs your elbow and pull you back behind one of the large gothic column. Your back is pressed against his torso and your cheeks start to burn when you feel him. His breath his hot on your neck and you feel every nerves inside you tingling when he whispers to your ear « This is not over. »

He let you go but stay hidden to shout his orders out to his men. « Let her go. »

He’s big and he’s strong, we all know this, but as an Alpha? He oozes strength and dominance, this is nothing. He manhandles your poor body all the time, maneuvering you any which way so he can fuck you senseless.

However, you don’t know that he knows, but he’s completely aware of the fact you tend to smell so much sweeter when he forces you into a specific position. Unable to move, barely able to breathe, he just forces your head into the pillows as your arms become absolutely useless except to grab the pillows and his wrists. You’re no match for him, instead your nails feel like wind against his skin, not worth his full attention and barely noticeable, as he ruts himself into you while all you can do is take it.