#tw.manipulation

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work. You didn’t mind the grease that clung to your skin, the clatter of dishes, or the sting in your legs after double shifts. What mattered was that you were earning your keep—paying your bills, fixing up the wreck of a farmhouse your mother left behind, and doing it all without help.

You weren’t here to be rescued.

“You sure you’re not overworking yourself, sweetheart?” Gracie asked as you refilled the sugar jars. She was a woman who wore her sarcasm and worry with the same ease as her eyeliner.

“I’m fine,” you said with a smile, rolling your sleeves up higher. “Gotta pay for a new water heater somehow. Thing practically screamed when I tried to shower this morning.”

“Thought your neighbor offered to help with all that?”

You stiffened.

You remembered him well. Isaiah. The farmer with shoulders like barn doors and calloused hands that looked like they could crush rock. He came to welcome you on your first day with a crate of eggs and a bashful smile. In return, you gave him a plate of spaghetti you made that night, more out of politeness than interest.

You hadn't realized the way his eyes lingered as you handed him that plate.

That in his mind, that gesture sealed a bond deeper than you’d ever intended.

“I told him I had it under control,” you said simply.

Gracie gave you a look. “I know you city girls are all about that independence. Just be careful. Some men ‘round here get ideas.”

You laughed softly. “I can take care of myself.”

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

Your shifts were long. The tips were modest. And the farmhouse was stubborn in its disrepair. But you were managing.

Until your truck died.

You were halfway down the lonely road toward your house after closing the diner when the engine sputtered and gave out. No signal. No cars. Nothing but the humming of bugs and the distant rustle of trees.

You grabbed your backpack and kicked the tire, muttering curses.

Then headlights pierced the dark.

Isaiah pulled up beside you, leaned out the window with a smile that looked just a bit too pleased.

“Well, now. Looks like you need a hand.”

You blinked. “Yeah… my truck just—stopped. No warning. Can I get a lift home?”

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Was just headin’ back from drinks with the boys.”

You got in.

The silence stretched as you talked. You were tired, but adrenaline kept you going. You talked about the renovations, your job at the diner, your plans to eventually turn the farmhouse into something self-sustaining. You didn’t notice the silence behind the wheel. Not really.

“I just think women shouldn’t have to rely on anyone,” you said, stretching. “It’s freeing, you know? To build something yourself.”

His hands clenched the steering wheel.

You didn't notice.

But he did.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

Three days later, the farmhouse was broken into.

You came home after your shift and found everything ransacked. Nothing stolen—just destruction. Dishes shattered. Curtains torn. Couch cushions ripped open like animals had clawed them apart. Your knees gave out. You screamed.

Isaiah arrived before the sheriff.

“Jesus,” he said, crouching beside you. “You alright? You’re shaking.”

“I—yeah—I think—” You gasped. “They didn’t take anything. Just trashed it.”

“No way you’re sleeping here tonight,” he said. “Door’s broken. You’re vulnerable.”

“I’ll go to a motel—”

“They’re all booked for the rodeo this week,” he interrupted gently. “Look, I’ve got a guest room. Just for a night or two.”

You didn’t want to. But your nerves were shot, and there was nowhere else to go.

“Just a night,” you agreed, voice hollow.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

Isaiah’s house was too perfect.

Pristine. Polished floors. Dishes stacked in neat rows. A faint floral scent lingered—lavender, maybe.

“Bathroom’s down the hall. Towels are clean. I’ll get the bed ready,” he said, walking away with your overnight bag like it already belonged there.

You spotted a mug on the counter with your name on it. Painted in soft pastel blue.

“You… had this?”

He smiled. “Felt right. Made it when I heard you took the old place.”

You tried to joke. “That’s… thoughtful.”

He smiled wider.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

You tried to offer him money the next morning, after breakfast. Scrambled eggs. Homemade biscuits. Too good.

“Don’t insult me,” he said quietly. “Just help out around the house, alright? You’re already doing so much.”

So you did. You swept. Cleaned. Cooked dinner once or twice. Anything to repay him for the roof over your head while you called contractors and scraped together the funds for repairs.

But the contractors never called back.

Your calls went unanswered.

The mechanic said your truck was totaled.

You didn’t realize someone else had made sure of that.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

It was a week later when you heard Isaiah on the phone.

The kettle had just started to scream when his voice reached you from down the hall, muffled but distinct. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop—not really—but something in his tone made your body freeze.

“…No, she hasn’t figured it out yet. Sweet thing still thinks this is charity.”

A low chuckle.

“I’ve been teaching her… slowly. She’s adjusting.”

A pause. His voice dropped lower.

“Not yet. But soon.”

You stood there for a second too long. Long enough for the kettle to whistle sharply, loud enough to cover the sound of the ceramic mug slipping from your hands and smashing against the floor.

The tea scalded your bare feet. You barely felt it.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his voice stopped mid-sentence. The sudden silence on his end was deafening.

You moved.

Bolted.

You didn’t think—just acted. Your legs carried you on instinct, slipping on the wet floor, catching yourself against the wall, fingers fumbling for balance. The hallway felt longer than usual. Your vision tunneled, the walls squeezing closer with every second.

You reached the back door.

Unlatched.

Unlocked.

Hope surged in your chest so violently it made you gasp.

You wrenched it open.

Cool air hit your face, the smell of soil and pine and freedom burning in your lungs. You were halfway out—one foot in the grass, fingers scraping the edge of the doorway—

And then a hand, large and brutal, slammed the door shut.

With you halfway through it.

You screamed.

The edge of the frame cracked against your ribs as Isaiah yanked you backward, one arm wrapping tight across your waist, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. You kicked, flailed, clawed at his skin, but he held you firm—an immovable wall of muscle and determination.

“I knew you’d run,” he muttered, breath hot against your ear. His voice had lost the syrupy sweetness he wore like a mask. Now it was raw, cracked, and furious. “Ungrateful little thing.”

He turned, carrying you effortlessly despite your thrashing.

“I’ve done everything for you. Gave you safety. Gave you warmth. A home.”

He slammed the door behind you both with his boot, the echo like a gunshot.

You fought harder.

“I was gonna ease you into it,” he snarled, dragging you past the kitchen. “Let you feel like you chose this. But you just had to snoop, didn’t you?”

He didn’t take you to the guest room.

He took you down the hall, past the door you’d never seen open. The one that was always locked.

He kicked it in.

And there it was.

The cradle. A handmade wooden crib, nestled in the center of a room painted in soft yellows and sage green. The mobile above it spun slowly, creaking on its hinges, casting distorted shadows across the walls.

Everything smelled like baby powder and lavender and something far too clean.

Your stomach turned.

“No—no, let me go—!”

“You’re mine,” Isaiah hissed, slamming the door shut behind you. He twisted the lock before pressing you against it, pinning you there with the full weight of his body. “You fed me that day. You smiled. You looked at me like I mattered. What the hell did you think that meant, huh?”

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “It was just dinner—it didn’t mean anything—”

“It meant everything,” he growled, gripping your chin so hard it ached. “It was a promise. A bond. You gave yourself to me when you fed me. You just didn’t know it yet.”

You whimpered as his hand dropped to your hip, then your wrist, guiding you toward the crib with terrifying tenderness.

“You’ll see. You don’t need that diner. You don’t need money or dreams or whatever garbage you believe in. You need me. You need this.”

He pressed your palm flat against the cradle’s wooden edge.

“You need to understand your place, wife.”

You sobbed, body trembling, but there was no more strength left to fight.

His voice dipped lower, reverent and sickeningly soft.

“…And maybe it’s time you give me what I’ve waited for.”

TBC.

noirscript © 2025

Noisy steps raining hell on aged basement stairs, acting as a siren, telling everyone 'I'm here' before they can even see you.

"Pervert." You're crying when you reach the bottom. Your lips moving on their own accord, fighting off your self-restraint with ease, "I know what yo-you're hiding you disgusting, filthy, pervert."

"I saw everything." You confronted the crowded room, hot tears rolling down your cheeks, your eyes frantically scanning for Mike, who was already staring at you. But he wasn't the only one.

They were all staring at you. Dustin, Lucas, Will.

Their faces twist with confusion and concern, and a layer of disgust they couldn't even pretend to hide. Or maybe they didn't want to, would rather you see it written on their face, the turmoil your presence brought. It's unwanted.

And Mike, who stood from his seat and laughed perfunctorily, the corner of his eyes crinkling as they met everyone rounded at the table.

Probably his way of diffusing tension, you can't tell. You can barely breathe.

"Let's get you some water." He walked towards you, smooth and unconcerned strides. And he placed his palm atop your back to guide you upstairs, "Go ahead and continue without me, guys." He reassured his group before disappearing with you.

The kitchen is where he saw your grief, your jagged breaths; your desperation.

The part of you that sought comfort in someone you're so sure you should be running from. It's a tether, but that didn't stop you from sobbing your heart out, only pushed the confessions to pour from your trembling mouth.

And he's not denying it.

He didn't outright say 'no', if not, talked circles around your accusations. Telling you not to believe everything you see, like you're being fooled by media.

"You're being ridiculous, do you hear yourself? I stole from you? I keep a collection of you?" He's telling you more than he's asking you anything, and he said it with genuine disbelief, bewilderment clouding his expression.

"I mean, what is this? Where is this coming from? I'm your brother." He scoffed, reminding you of his place in your life, like that means anything.

You know men who do worse for less, real brothers who hurt their real sisters.

Girls who are turned into statistics, who are horror stories for the Hawkin's news, who showed up on in your mothers warnings after your father remarried. And one of those warnings, the first person you look at for reassurance, the only person you believed wouldn't be depraved enough, existed quietly with you.

"I know what I saw." You defend yourself, even if weakly.

"What'd you see?" There's a vague urgency in his voice, but it's subtle enough to brush off.

He'd pin it on some bullshit concern if need be.

"Ph-photos of me in bed," your speech faltered, uneven in its inflection, your throat clicking as you swallowed dryly, "al-almost naked."

"And where's the proof for that?"

"I..." You paused, blinking as the realization settles, his words ringing in your head.

You didn't have any of it, any of what he asked for, of what you've so confidently accused him of, of what you dragged him out of his dungeon for.

"I don't have it on me." You admit curtly, the tremble in your voice slipping through, your knees threatening to give out from beneath you.

And his gaze softened immediately, responding to your vulnerability with a tenderness only he was capable of. That reeled you into his comforting arms, that held you soft and kissed you warm.

"You know what I think it is?," He's pressed his lips against your temple, sighing, "you're jealous, hm? Jealous I don't spend all my time with you anymore, right?"

You soaked in his words and shook your head. "N-no," you sniffled, crumbling into his embrace and giving in.

"Don't scare yourself into seeing these things," he whispered, "You'll just worry yourself sick."

What had you seen?

And how can you be so sure any of it was yours?

How are you so sure any of it was Mike's?

The second time it happens, you're in his bedroom, helping him look for a book for his new campaign.

You weren't meant to be in there for more than a minute--you knew you needed to be quick because everyone's waiting for you downstairs. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, and tonight, Mike's girlfriend.

Still, it calls your name as you pass by it on your way out.

A piece of notebook paper, crumpled to its smallest form, abandoned in a metal bin, asking to be left alone.

Ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is always bliss, you convince yourself.

A mantra you've recited day-in and day-out since then, like a prayer that's set to salvage scared bodies from further terrors.

But you reach for it anyways, prying open its furled body with curious hands. You make out a few things. Like the fact that it's only a fragment of a longer entry. Handwritten print of your name tacked alongside a mention of items.

Of your items.

Words about your hair after shampoo day, your sleeping body and every way it contorts when you're in a deep sleep, what time of night you're deadweight, a thin swipe of your current lipstick, a comment about the shade of your soft nipples, and the color of your thighs when stretched taut.

Your cycle. Your college schedule. How warm you'd like your coffee those Fall mornings.

There's an uneasy certainty etched into his writing- unequivocal observations that make your skin crawl, telling you to stop while you can, to stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Instead, it set you off. Sent you to his dresser, pulling open his drawers and the rest is blurry. Anxious hands diving wherever they can, groping blindly, begging for something to prove you right, or wrong, or anything to keep you grounded.

But it all comes up blank.

So you tripped into his closet, crawled into every nook and cranny. Tossing back pants and shirts that'd knock against the door behind you, that forced the door into the wall, a resounding thud with every throw, but you didn't care. You couldn't.

Your knees ached, pressed harsh into thin carpet that's certain to give you a burn, trembling fingers rummaging through everything it can find, until they land on a shoebox. On a lid that's thrown off within seconds, that sends reality crashing down you.

The room feels like it's spinning, tossing you every which way, and blood is rushing to your head. Bile sticking to your already dry throat, that just burns and crawls and digs into your chest, makes your heart quake.

Lingerie, undergarments, patterned and printed, socks, all ones you had emotionally grown out of after your last birthday. A few you mentioned wanting to throw out, because you were a different girl now. Because you were grown up and going to college and wanted to feel it, too.

"So weird, I was gonna toss out a bag of clothes but I can't remember where I put it..." You mentioned.

"Huh, that is weird," Mike followed, "but I guess if you were gonna toss them out anyways, doesn't matter where they went, right?"

And you agreed, stupidly.

It's all hitting you at once.

Tubes of spent gloss. The last of your signature roll-ons tucked into their own corner. He built a home out of you. A vault of your past and present, kept you hidden.

Was he going to do that you?

Keep you hidden?

Kept away from everything and everyone, just like everything in this box?

You kept looking, you don't know why, but you couldn't stop, finding yourself in front of a familiar stack.

Dirtied polaroid's bound together by a tan band that snaps open at your distress, pictures slipping from your head, broadcasting inscribed dates and descriptions and photos of you, your body, every angle possible.

And you can feel it crawling up your spine.

That night worming its way out of every dark corner in his room, closing in on you, enshrouding you icily, when your eyes land on the photo.

A photo that was meant to be a fairytale, something you had scared yourself into believing, something you hallucinated because he said so. Because he was spending time with his girlfriend and you were jealous, he said. That's what he said, and he promised. So why is it here? Why is it real and firm in your clammy fingers, why can you see it?

Your heart beats so loud in your ears you don't hear the shoes on carpet, or the weight shifting beneath your reddening knees.

"What are you doing?" His voice is what slams you back to the present.

Your heart skips a beat, a thick silence lingering between you.

"Mike..." You tremble, but you're refusing to look at him, staring into the galleria of your life instead.

He doesn't respond to you, though.

He reaches over to close the box, nudging it back in place, then he steps away, picking up after you. You hear it, the way he calmly folds tousled articles of clothing, placing them onto his bed.

"I saw-" You're cut off as soon as you speak.

"You don't know what you saw." He brushes off your concern, a cold edge to his voice, stripped of the affection he'd always meet you with.

Devoid of any patience he'd previously carried all those times you'd gotten too close.

When you'd run into his room, excited about some band, or some news, or something he'd set aside his day for. And he'd pretend like he wasn't just adding to his trophy of a shoebox, like that one night.

But he wasn't angry, you could tell. He was never angry, not with you, at least. He was indifferent, uninterested in your tears, and for some reason that was worse.

For some reason- some disgusting reason- you wanted him to care, to make it feel better, to pull you into his arms and against his chest while you doze off to some track on his vinyl.

It makes you want to curl into yourself, so you can hide from him, from your feelings.

You thought that maybe if you hid underneath your hands and cowered, you'd be small enough to trigger a shell, one that'd take you in and protect you from his hostility. Replace his job as your brother.

"You can't be doing this t-to pe-people," you mustered up the courage, slurred speech and all, but you said it.

You can feel the warmth of his body radiating onto yours, hugging you, tempting you.

"Doing, what?" He's on his knees, draping himself over your frame as he speaks, his chest pressed into your back. "What am I doing?" He asks with soft lips, dragging them across your skin.

It makes you shudder.

"Normally," the palm of his hand rests on your arm, weighing on you and warming you, comforting you as his thumb rubs in lazy circles, "you shouldn't be making a mess in someone else's room."

His comments churn in your brain.

They push on all the right buttons--that was his thing, seeing people for who they were.

What made them weak or strong, what made them tick, what they want or don't want to hear. And him, always knowing when to reach what.

"You know," His words are a serrated knife; threatening to break the seal. "You worried everyone tonight." He punctured.

You forgot. Everyone was still here.

You made a scene, you know that. You gave him no choice.

Mike recalled what he told the group. That you were probably hurt, that this isn't anything new, and that you probably just need your big brother. Telling them you don't know how to be by yourself.

And he didn't say it, he just made you feel it. Expertly chipped away at your confidence.

You've spoiled their night because you needed your big brother to save you, needed him to watch you throw your tantrums, because you don't like it when he's with his girlfriend and without you.

It is your fault yet again. Had you kept to yourself, you would've never seen what you did. You wouldn't have ruined tonight, you would've been downstairs with everyone.

"You shouldn't be doing this to people," his words crept against your earlobe, hardly above a whisper.

You whimpered in response, the only thing you do, and it sounds pathetic. Like you were going to cry.

"I know, I'm being so mean," he crooned, gingerly coating your nape in wet kisses, as he cradled you with gentle hands--an emotional whiplash. But you couldn't help it, he knew you couldn't when you softened under his touch.

"Are you... am I..." You struggled to find the words, your breath picking up, "are you mad at me?"

He pressed another kiss to your temple before standing, "Just disappointed. You should've known better than to do this again, but I forgive you."

He doesn't tell you that he sent everyone home earlier, that he was never pulled away so selfishly, but ignorance is bliss.

Always.

Michael took you to bed that night.

He helped you up off the ground and dusted off your carpet-burned knees, then he walked you to your room, until your legs met the mattress and you were forced into its comfort.

Neither of you bothered with the lights on the way in, the moon illuminated enough bluey hues.

Words aren't exchanged when his fingers hooked onto the belt loop of your bottoms and he tugged them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles.

To get you ready for bed, he said at some point, you can't remember when.

When you blinked up, all you saw was Mike, peering into your teary eyes from where he stood. He bent towards you for a moment only, fingers brushing your hair back lovingly.

The heat soothed you and it was so tender you could sob into his hand.

It was demented that you knew how he felt.

That he tore down your privacy, never let you have it, saw you for who you were in every way. Yet deep down, you found yourself feeling self-conscious.

In a way you shouldn't.

In a way schoolgirls feel around their crushes, when she wonders if her hair looked nice, and the thought of looking a fool was agonizing and so she sheepishly pats down her flyaways, all to avoid being seen so imperfectly.

He made you want to pat down your flyaways.

You brought your legs up to rest on the mattress, an attempt to cover yourself but he stopped you, only kissed atop your knee. A wet kiss, the kinds you give to a girlfriend.

Has he? You ask yourself. Has he given these to his girlfriend?

You're not sure when this all began, you're not sure you want to know.

No, you know you don't want to.

You don't want to see what he saw. Or what he felt all those times you'd collapse in his arms after a bad day, a bad date, when he'd watch your eyes puff and swell with sadness. Or what he thought during those evenings your father would upset, when you'd stomp, stomp, stomp back to your room and slam the door.

You bottom lip quivered and he leaned in, snug between your legs, before you could cry. He caught your lips on his and brought you to a quiet.

He let out a sigh of relief that same second, and his hands briskly found themselves on your waist.

It all makes your stomach hurt. None of it takes away from who he is and what he's done.

"Stop," you sobbed into the kiss while melting into it--under him.

You don't know why you want him to stop either.

Is it because of his girlfriend? Or because he's your brother?

But his movements stilled, warm lips nestled above yours, "You want me to stop?" His whisper brushed against you, and you don't respond, only turned your face the other way, his lips on your cheek this time.

Your throat tightened as you swallowed.

"You can't do this to me. I'm..." you paused, wanting to collect your thoughts. "I am not your girlfriend." You whispered with an averted gaze, staring at your dimly lit window.

Not, 'I am family' or 'I am your childhood', but 'I am not your girlfriend.'

"Is that it?" He purred against you, kissed along your cheek to the side of your mouth, where he kept himself pressed, and his hand pushed underneath your chin. "You want to be my girlfriend?" He smiled, you knew because you could feel his lips stretch thin as he spoke.

But he didn't wait for an answer this time.

He used the hand under your chin to turn your face back to his. Then he dove back in without restraint, the kiss eliciting a moan you could tell he was holding back.

He kissed you fervently, like you were meant for him, and him you, and he let you sob under him. He let your hands weakly nudge at his biceps, let you make weak noises.

"Tell me to stop again," he breathed against your lips, "tell me."

He was testing you, what you really wanted, and like clockwork you never knew.

So he made the choice for you and left your swollen lips alone, pulling back and breaking strings of spit with him. Choosing, instead, to stamp your cheeks with wet kisses.

Then along your jaw and down your neck, like he was tasting you or savoring you, the way a devoted man would. And he kissed until he reached your bare navel.

Your mind drifted.

Each memory mingling with your emotions.

Did it start on the night of your sixteenth birthday?

The night he took you down to Benny's because all you talked about was a messy burger with a side of extra soggy fries, topped with the coldest pop, and he watched you eat with all your glory.

Or is that just when it started for you.

Your stomach fluttered in response. You watched through wet lashes as he reached your lower half, where he lightly rubbed his nose into your inner thigh and the ends of his hair tickled your skin.

He bit into the fat of your thighs like the sweetest nectar was promised, with gentle teeth and warmed lips, and he brushed down to your panty-clad mound.

His breath hot above your crotch, and your hand went flying, shoving itself between his mouth and you.

His eyes flicked to look up at you, an eyebrow raised, before he looked back down at your hand. He kissed your knuckles, each one, from thumb to pinky.

He kissed your nails, each one again, then he kissed the pudge of your wrists, nudged at it with his nose. A dog asking, no, fighting for it's treat. And you, the owner, caved by moving your hand.

Michael Wheeler, your childhood, your stepbrother, and what next? Your lover?

But you need advice, and your sister’s too busy any other time.

Someone bumps your chair, and the jerk spills your coffee over the side of the cup. You suck your tongue. “I’m thinking of moving out of Makochi. I got another job offer in Yokohama and the prices seem reasonable enough.”

“You’ve been saying you’ll move out for years,” Kotoha gives you a quick glance over her shoulder as she works on no less than seven cups of coffee at once.

“Meant it each time,” you sigh back. The older woman only makes a faint noise to let you know she’s still listening, before you rest your cheek onto the nice wooden bar. “I just think I should.”

When she’s done dusting the cocoa powder, she finally turns to you. A slight frown sits on her pretty face when looking down at you, debating whether or not to say anything. Most people aren’t listening, and even if they are, your distaste for their illustrious head isn’t exactly unknown. Kotoha seems to come to the same conclusion when she sighs into the brief silence. “Because of Umemiya?”

You crack your lips open so you don’t let them pull in distaste. You instead place your hands under your chin so you can look up at her. “Aniiki is … part of it.” You don’t say that everything starts and ends with him. You don’t want to give him that much credit. But it’s not untrue, and that makes you frown too. “I don’t like living here anymore. It’s suffocating.” Your sister’s face falls at that, just barely, but it’s enough to have you jerking up. “You’ve helped out as much as you can, I know that. I don’t blame you at all, not for any of it, Ko neechan.”

”If anything,” you continue, “the fact that I can’t be happy even though you’re supporting me like you are, makes me feel even more like I should. If I don’t, I’m just getting in your way.”

Ever since then, Kotoha’s been the one person in your life willing to drop everything to be by your side. She’s been your rock more than anyone else. More than Bofurin… that’s for sure. Protectors of what, exactly? Even though you know it isn’t fair, you find yourself increasingly desperate to be mad at them. Any of them calling themselves big brothers. Those who stand for those who are too weak to fight. Hiragi, Tsubakino, Mizuki, even Kaji— they’re all loud when spouting their protective nonsense.

You wanna shake their stupid collars until the truth falls out of them like a gacha machine. There’s a big difference between protecting the peace, and the silence.

The blonde part timer skips between you both to grab the coffees as Kotoha’s shoulders drop, has to wait a few seconds before she can reach over to hold your hand. “I know you and Umemiya nii don’t get along. I’m sure I can’t understand all the reasons why, even though I try.” Because you haven’t told her. Because you can’t.

“But I wanna help you. You don’t need to make up if you don’t want to. I just want you to feel like someone’s here for you.” The ding of the kitchen distracts you both, as she sighs. “I get worried too, you know. If you were to move out- I- I want us two to be together at least.” And you don’t want to be alone either.

That’s why it took so much thought, despite the constant struggle, right? More than anything, you want to be with the people you care about. Kotoha gives an apologetic look as she has to walk off towards the increasing noise of the kitchen, and you take a sip of your coffee as she goes to draw the omurice hearts.

Of course it’s then that the door slams open too loud, a familiar, sing-songy tone ringing out over all the noise. “Ko- to- ha!” He comes in hands already outstretched, and rushes towards the bar to watch her work, watch her shoulders jerk up the slightest bit. “Kotoha! Your omurice looks great as always! Might order some myself~” She lets out a deep sigh when he bangs his fists on the surface in excitement, but still turns to greet him.

“If you’re gonna eat, then sit down. Don’t make a ruckus.”

He smiles wider, sits down on one of the bar stools. Only two chairs away from yours. ”You’re cool as ever, Kotoha.” Hiragi and some of the Bofurin guys fill in after him, watching the interaction go down with a mild fondness. Then the blond turns to you, dark, stormy blue eyes finding your face. And the enthusiasm doesn’t slip one bit as he says your own name long and drawn out. Feels like he adds the chan~ to it as a mockery.

Time to escape upstairs, then.

”Kotoha nee, I’m going,” you start grabbing your things as you catch eyes with Hiragi, whose face casts over with concern. That, and frustration as he watches you go. He’s watched you go for a long time. They all have.

“Don’t be like that, there’s plenty of room,” Hajime nii quickly says, waving his hand to get you to stay in your seat. “I’ll stay right over here and won’t get any closer, so stay. I’ve come to see you too, you know! See, I’m seated nice and quiet. Stay, please?” Your blank stare instantly turns into a glare sharp enough to make him get goosebumps, and you feel your spine go rigid as distaste pulls at your mouth corners. It’s instinctive, like an animal caught in a corner. He must know exactly what reaction you get when you poke a stick at someone like that, because the glitter doesn’t vanish from his eyes for a moment.

If anything, you swear it amuses him to watch you lock up, and have Kotoha’s eyes drill into the side of your face in slight anticipation.

There was a time where you wondered if he did the same to Kotoha. If she knew what you did about the ugly truths of Umemiya Hajime and just like you, she couldn’t stand to watch him pretend. Pretend to be a nice guy, honest. Good. You couldn’t ask it out of shame when you were younger. Maybe you were afraid of the answer. Of the follow-up questions.

Maybe you were afraid back then Kotoha would abandon you.

You don’t have to wonder anymore, because Kotoha still adores him. He couldn’t have. It shows when she slaps his wrist in gentle, quiet chastisement, and lets out a breath through her nose.

Your voice doesn’t waver when you stare him right in his handsome face. And your older brother sits there with his stupid, smug smile, and has the nerve to pat the stool next to him as he watches you.

“I would rather drop dead.”

+

“Here, here, sit. Let’s eat before we head out.” Umemiya’s smile is wide when Kaji rolls his eyes, but pushes off the headphones to his shoulders so that the banging of the bass sounds out between them. Kaji likes to put on a big show when it comes to listening to him— but at the end of the day, he still does as he’s told. Umemiya sits down on the small ledge before the convenient store and the icy blond follows suit.

Frowns as he takes his sucker out of his mouth, but accepts the onigiri nevertheless. “Thank you.”

The two of them sit in silence for a while, until the younger suddenly speaks up. “Why does your sister not like you?” He doesn’t look up from peeling the plastic wrapper off, but his brows get that telltale thoughtful pinch. It scrunches his nose. “Or rather, she doesn’t seem to really like any of us— but it’s really you she has a problem with, right?” He waits to bite into the snack to turn to his superior with a studying glance. “None of us know anything- even Hiragi.”

Umemiya can’t help but let a smile pull at his lips, as he leans his head on his palm and elbow on his knee. When he doesn't get the reaction he’s after, Kaji grunts. “It doesn’t sit right with me that she doesn’t let anyone help her. Not when we don’t even know what the problem is.”

The older man blinks. “Who knows… She never told me.”

It makes him think of your pretty face, twisted in anger. Of the way you seem to make yourself as small as humanly possible whenever he comes into a room, and those eyes, big and accusatory, and hurt. It’s not like he doesn’t understand it. “We used to be real close when we were younger too, you know. When we were still in group homes she’d cling to my pant leg from morning until we had to go to bed.”

A fond chuckle makes it out of him, as he runs his long fingers through his hair and sighs. He can’t take it back. Doesn’t really want to. But you’ve gotten so skittish, that he can’t even get near you without setting you on a warpath. The onigiri sits in his hand without a bite. 

Kaji looks like he’s trying to solve a complicated puzzle, clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Would you say your imouto’s really the type to suddenly hate you for no reason? She wasn’t anything like that when we were still at Furin. If anything— you guys were basically inseparable. There must’ve been something.”

There sure was something. “I’m not sure,” Umemiya breathes, “and don’t go telling anyone I said this. But it might just be that she has a bit of a brother complex.” Kaji’s face sours.

“Be serious.”

“I am! We used to be close all the way up until I got a girlfriend and brought her around a few times.” He eats his onigiri in three big bites, chews too loudly. “I didn’t do it on purpose. But she suddenly started looking at me so betrayed— even though it didn’t even last that long. I think she must’ve had a little bit of a childhood crush on me, and when I got another girl involved, that really hurt her feelings.”

‘You kissed me!’

Your face flashes through his mind on the day you found out, teary eyed and flustered, and how you said his name with so much pain that it felt like it was shattering his heart. He had to. You’ve never understood he did what he did for you. It was always for you.

“I don’t like the way she acts around me the most, believe me! I’d like to do things differently if I could.” When Kaji looks back out over the street, unconvinced, Umemiya dusts his hands off. He sighs. “But even I… can’t turn back time.”

The younger man just shakes his head at that, but rolls the tiny rocks of the car park around under his foot. “Brother complex or not… Would it really be something so trivial to make her stop loving her own flesh and blood?”

The silence sits thick.

Umemiya’s lips jerk up at the corners despite his attempt to keep them down— Stop loving him. Even now, that’s not the case. If you had truly stopped, you would’ve long told someone all about him, right?

+

It’s only because she’s drinking too much, too fast. Kotoha’s completely oblivious to the fact you and even her normally clueless boyfriend are on the same page on that, watching her sink deeper into the couch in the dark as the show playing is forgotten entirely.

Her voice is a little too slurred and loud and she watches Sakura go to the kitchen, pouting all the while. “Haruka~ bring me another one, pretty please?”

“You could stand to drink some water first,” he only breathes in the doorframe - like he doesn’t quite want her to hear. She does, and also flops her head in a petulant pout.

“Don’t be that way, geez~ you’re such a buzzkill sometimes. Don’t you think?” Her long lashes flutter your way, pounding her fist on her chest to get rid of some air.

“I’m pretty sure he’s right, neechan.”

She frowns. “What?”

Sakura comes back out with another strongly poured drink for you, a milder one for himself— and water for his girlfriend. Straw, bubbles, the works. He holds it in front of her face with a polite nod to you, and a look that’s meant to signify some sort of understanding. “Wh- see, you both are ganging up on me.”

You watch her go from pouty to thoughtful, snuggling up to Haruka when he sits back down by her side.

You don’t mind Sakura as much as the rest of them. You know he adores your big brother— it's no stretch to say they all do, but at least he doesn’t make it your problem by bringing it up at every turn like you’re just out of the loop. If you try a little harder, you’d get it too. He keeps his opinions locked in a tight little box. That’s the best case scenario where Bofurin is concerned, isn’t it.

That’s why you sort of appreciate his wide eyed look her way when Kotoha’s filter drops out of her mouth. You know she’s oblivious of her double tongue when it spills the truth too easily. That she doesn’t mean to. “I honestly thought Umemiya might’ve done somethin’ to you a couple years ago. At the start, y’know? I didn’t wanna think it but I did.”

You feel your eyes go wide before you can stop it.

‘Shhhh. You gotta whisper.’

Haruka doesn’t want to be here for this conversation. You wanna be here even less, feel the pressure start closing in on your throat. Your foster sister doesn’t even open her eyes as she sips her water and unintentionally puts her foot on your neck. “You just used to be such a bubbly teenager. You didn’t have an attitude. You didn’t slam doors or bark orders around. I thought we’d get into fights at that age, but we didn’t. And-”

‘Hajime nii— stop messing around! If you’re going to do it, then do it~ You’re such a weirdo.’ Your own voice -familiar yet so far away- echoes through your skull and aches as it slides down your spine. You want the ground to swallow you in one large bite.

‘You want me to kiss everything better?’

Kotoha’s voice feels too close. Your own cloudy head is suddenly torturously tight. You’re both too tipsy and not nearly drunk enough. 

The drink in your hands is too cold, the alcohol in it reeks. “Even uni. It was easy. And then one day, you were just different.” She says it with a crack in her voice. “Everything was different. You were so angry at Umemiya all the time— so I felt like maybe he did something awful to you to warrant that reaction, and I went a bit psycho on him.”

Sakura shifts uncomfortably to start taking her water out of her hands, and clears his voice. “Kotoha chan-”

“-I grabbed him by his stupid uniform- and I was really about to hit him over the head with something, if he had hurt you in some way.” She opens her eyes, teary as she looks at you — it takes everything in you not to snap in two. 

‘Heh, just come here. When did you get all shy on me? Come here, I gotta show you something.’

His voice echoes even louder, like it was spoken into your hair yesterday, pulled back into his side so close you could die. You’re pretty sure you would’ve died for him back then. ‘If you don’t have fun, I’ll apologize, alright?’

Even if you tried your very best, you wouldn’t be able to hide the furious, embarrassed heat that works over your face, or the way your hands shake. “And he swore to me that nothing happened. He swore it.”

You cling to the glass like it's a life vest now, hiding your heart from view with a couple ice blocks and a slice of lemon. Your sister swallows. “You know I would do anything for you, right? So if he was lying to me- if something did happen—”

“Kotoha,” your own voice surprises you more than it should. You speak as if it's through someone else, and you smile. You think you do, at least. You try to. “Let’s not talk about aniiki right now? We were having fun.” The living room feels so awfully, suffocatingly empty that speaking makes you hoarse. 

The man on the other end of the couch slides off to rub his sweaty hands over his pants, and glances at you like he wants to escape to the kitchen again. He looks like he’ll apologize. But you can’t handle that right now. Really.

“Sakura, take care of my sister for a bit, okay? I want to go take a shower, and use the bathroom.”

You push up from the furniture too to march into the tiled room just quick enough to stop yourself from hurling your guts out on your carpet— turning the shower onto the hardest spray as you heave over the drain. You’re sure you hear Kotoha nee talk in the other room, her voice distressed and angry and desperate. But you can’t make out a single word.

All your brain repeats over and over is the way Hajime nii used to call your name.

The way it bounced off of his bedroom walls.

+

He loves you. Of course he does.

Nothing could keep a big brother from loving his little sister a bit too much, and spoiling her rotten. Is that really so bad? Is he the weird one?

“There he goes again, babysitting.” One of his friends laughs, wrapping his arm around his shoulder to ruffle his hair every which way. Umemiya’s quiet as he studies your chubbier face, the way your backpack looks too heavy for your small body. Is it really babysitting when he wants to do it? When it makes him feel important.

The other middle schooler waves off the silence with a laugh. “Can’t your brother go to the arcade with us today, little lady? You’ve got other brothers and sisters to walk you home, right?”

You can just about hide your pout, look up through thick lashes when you hesitate. It rounds your face in that adorable way he can’t get enough of. After a bit of silence, you nod. “Kotoha nee.”

“That’s right! Ask Kotoha-chan.” The brunet squeezes him under his arm a little tighter. “Right, Umemiya?”

It’s not hard to read the way your face falls, and how defenseless you look balling your fists into your skirt. You look at him like you’re expecting the most. He wants to do that for you. He wants… “Don’t decide that stuff for me,” he sighs out before slipping out of the hug, instead taking your hand in his warmer one with a smile. “My precious little sister’s asking me for help, of course I’m going.”

You basically press yourself to his side from the second he does, and stare at his friends like a skittish stray- even after all this time. Can’t help it when his presence is the only safe one you’ve had for so long. “It’s okay,” he nods, and the line between your brows smooths out.

But the three of them can’t help it. Though they’ve grown taller and their voices no longer crack, it’s obvious in times like these. They’re still only children. The tallest brunet lets his shoulders drop as he scans the situation. “Umemiya-san~ Hang out with your friends for once instead. You’d rather be with your little sister than with us? I’m not telling you to let her go alone! There’s other people who can do it.”

The black haired boy who’d been quiet up to this point shakes his head, and smiles. “Forget it, Taka. It’s no use. When it comes to his imouto, Umemiya’s totally defenseless.” Then he whispers under his breath. “He’s a siscon, siscon.”

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, pull it for attention. It doesn’t exactly feel good to be read so easily— but he does love you. He’d drop anything to be by your side. What’s wrong with that? They’re his age too, but they don’t get it yet. Family’s like that. “Can we go, oniichan?”

He nods, and pets your head while waving the other boys goodbye. “Sure. See you guys tomorrow.”

“See? He’s a real siscon in the flesh! Really.”

His shoulders hike up to his ears at the word. That’s not… He just loves you. They don’t know what you two have been through together. He loves you. Instead of responding to their childish banter, he helps your backpack off of your back to swing it over his shoulder, painting on a perfectly practiced smile. “Let’s go. Niichan’s friends are a bit weird today, right?”

Under the teasing of the other teens, he turns over his shoulder. “We can hang out when you guys get over yourselves.”

One of the boys pulls a face. “Yeah, yeah. See you later, oniichan.” It’ll be forgotten by tomorrow.

The accusation will slip off of him like water and oil. It will.

Your face is still indescribable as you walk home, and it puts a strange pit in his stomach.

Crossing the threshold with you in toe only makes him sit with your earlier silence all the way back. “We’re home.” He speaks into the hall, ushers you ahead, and kicks his shoes off to stride into the living room. The house is quiet, his foster mom isn’t back yet. “Kotoha-chan, can you help her with her bath?”

The younger girl looks up from her homework, to you, then back up at him. “Huh? Really?! You don’t want to do it?”

He grimaces, before collapsing into the couch. “Not tonight. I’m tired.” No one gets the situation he’s in. His foster sister is all too happy to jump up and rush over to you, with an excited giggle that only makes him roll his head to the side to look at you.

“Yeeyy! Us girls get to have bath time for once! I’ll put a treatment on your hair, make it all soft and shiny.” Your expression brightens a little, but only until you catch his eyes again, and the oldest Umemiya can’t help but frown. A frown you mirror too easily, being whisked down the hall. “Let’s go.”

It’s not like that.

+

Time goes by. And things don’t stay so easy.

He’s twisted and sick, panting your name into the silence of his room. Squeezing his fingers tighter, and throwing his head back as sweat sits on his brow.

Why is it like this?

Why is he…

He loves you. He loves you, loves you, loves you.

His team can love you, but they’ll never do it like he does. You’re his little sister.

It’s sick. But simple.

+

It’s too easy. You’re too sweet to him.

The words come out whether he wants them to or not. “Give me a kiss to make it better?” Your face drops further, before you push the gauze down harder onto the bloody scrape down his forehead, brow, the swollen eye. “Ouch.”

“I wouldn’t have to kiss it better if you didn’t get hurt! You always do this.” You snap in response, and your eyes find his. His entire body is wired too tight, and nervous tension mixes with that delicious after fight glow that has his head spinning. He blinks and you draw closer. The cloudy feeling in his brain makes you look even softer than normal.

Your pajamas are too big, a shirt of his and threading, linen shorts that sit too low— as you pull both feet onto the chair and against your body, and after a few seconds of silent protest you move. “Just- tell me where to kiss it, niichan. I wanna go back to bed.”

He pulls at your shirt until you shift and get onto the bed with him, and he drops himself back into the pillows. You follow, so you can watch him better. He can’t help but see it in the way your lashes flutter at him, and your hair falls around your delicate features.

You’re so pretty. So pretty he could die.

You don’t even blink when he hums. “You’re sweet. I really wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help me out. Kiss it here?” He points to his forehead, and you move over his body to place a little peck right between his brows. Gentle and obedient, just like you are. The adrenaline from the fight is still coursing through his limbs, and makes everything tingly.

It gives him more courage to do what he does. It isn’t the first time, but he treads carefully. “And here.” His fingertip pats his lips a few times, as you bristle. You turn your nose up at him and pout, and the look makes him pull at your shirt. “Please kiss it here? Got hit on my cheek too, my mouth’s all bloody.” He opens his mouth to show you. You look away when he pushes the sore area with his tongue.

“I believe you, don’t be weird!” Your cheeks get pushed out when you bite your lip. “Do I have to?”

“You have to. Kiss me here, and quick. I’m bleeding out.” You whine a soft ‘nii nii~’ before he goes on. “You know you need to kiss it better to heal well.”

“I know that!” You dip down to lay your lips over his with a noise, barely a second before you draw back. “There.” The heat of your mouth on his leaves him wanting to wrap his hand around your head and pull— something he just barely resists to instead brush his fingers through the hair behind your ear.

“What kind of pitiful little baby kiss was that? Do it properly.” You get hot from the tips of your ears as you stare him down, gunmetal eyes boring into yours. He knows you don’t know better. He knows that. He can’t stop himself from using that to his advantage. “Use your tongue and kiss it better properly. Then niichan will let you go back to bed. Promise.”

It’s an addicting sort of rush to watch you catch your tongue between your lips in thought, and giving in too easily. He bites his bottom lip, as the bed squeaks when you shift. Your own heart beats in your throat. His breaths brush over your lips, right before you lean down again and kiss him— let him kiss you back. Lips become touching tongues, warm and wet as he places a hand on your face to draw you in, keep you locked around him.

You taste soft and good and Hajime nii groans pornographically into your mouth, too loud into the night air. It’s just… you actually let your tongue be tasted by him, let him lick into your mouth and suck on the soft muscle. Mouths opening to mix spit in a way that has him pulling you by your hips onto him. If you taste the blood that was in his mouth not a half hour ago, you don’t say anything about it. Just lick the way he’s showing you, as your chest moves up and down against his.

The heat travels down your nose, cheeks, slides down your throat as he pulls back, and your hands come to hold yourself up on his shoulders. “There. That’s fine, isn’t it? N-niichan. I think we should- …go back to bed.” There’s no more gap between your bodies, your hesitant mimicking touches driving him on.

“No, not yet. It’s starting to feel better but it’s not done yet. I can’t ask anyone else. And it feels good, right?” Your pout is so cute. “It’s okay if you like it.” You let him pull you in, and moan when he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

If you knew any better, maybe you’d blame him a little more. You’d be grossed out by the tent in his boxers that’s been there since he snuck you into his room— since he made you help him peel his shirt off. It’s obvious he’s bringing you to a breaking point, when you pant, and tears sit unspilled on your lashes. “I don- Haji niichan~ I feel weird. We gotta stop.” You beg again. You instinctively shift your hips down on top of him to get some friction when his hands grab at your hips, and roll them.

“Just stay for a little bit. I feel so much better when you’re here.” 

Before you can escape he bucks and lays you down onto your back, lifting his much bigger, broader shape over top of you. He drops his weight into you on purpose, squishing you into the mattress, and lets his hips press you into the bed with a grinding motion that makes your brows pinch together. “Mh- Am I… helping you?”

“Yeah. Promise.” Hajime hums, and those pretty stormy blues find your face. The way he looks at you— it’s innocent in a way that only you two can get when he’s alone with you like this. It feels good. And your body is so warm. “My little sister tastes so sweet.” You push back into the next kiss and feel his lips lead yours, opening for him. His tongue is soft, tastes good.

It’s distinctly Hajime. He brushes your tongue until you feel all tingly inside. Niichan’s face just looks so focused and determined, tinting slightly pink over his cheeks. You’re not sure why, but you don’t want to stop. There’s a kiss to your temple, before his hands start sneaking under your shorts and underwear to pull it down your thighs. “N-no, not there! It’s embarrassing.” You fluster, but he smiles. “Niichan!”

“Got something to check. It’s okay, it’s just me. Show big brother real quick.” He pants into the silence as you obey so well, and big eyes flick all around his face with the utmost trust. He does feel bad. But it’s just once. 

+

It’s hot.

Not just warm in your hands, and mouth, but hot.

His cock’s so hot and hard that you’ll get a fever if you keep your head down here and watch through your lashes. His large hand comes to your crown to half-support, half-keep you in place, as his cheeks and ears have a peachy, blood-rushed color. And he pants your name so sweetly. “Ah, that’s it. So good, baby. I can’t believe you’re letting niichan see you like this- Again. Use- you. You like playing with me?” He pulls back to rub the flushed tip against your sloppy mouth and cheek.

“You asked me to!” You pout. It only takes a slight push back into your lips for you to hollow your cheeks around the hot head of his cock and suck as your tongue laps up the fluid leaking from it. You look like you’re enjoying the taste. “Just like helping- onii- o’n-chan-” His thighs flex under your fingertips, while he groans from above you. In the quiet of the house, it feels like it echoes too much. Feels like he wouldn’t mind being caught. But you don’t stop, because the weight of him in your mouth just feels so good.

Even when the pressure increases into the back of your mouth, watch him push into the sloppy, wet heat of your tongue. “Just means- you like sucking your big brother’s cock, right? F- hg-fuck-It feels nice, right?”

“…Yeah. It feels- ‘n tastes -weird but- gud.” You agree as it twitches in your mouth, and you work your way back down towards the dark hairs that go down from his navel to his cock. His hand gets a better grip to push your head back a little, making you unlatch from him with a deep breath. The cock stands so hard right before your face it’s hard not to take it right back between your swollen lips, but you still look up. “What? I said it… It’s embarrassing when you look at me like that.”

“You’re not letting Kento nii touch you? He’s not making moves on you?” His flushed face doesn’t match the way his eyebrows furrow.

The oldest of your foster siblings. He’s always been nice to you, but he hasn’t once made any kind of move like that. Niichan studies you like you’re confessing to a crime. “No,” you say. It’s the truth. Kento nii is nothing like your blood brother, who licks up and down your body in places you don’t show to other people. “Really, nii nii.”

When you shake your head, you embarrassingly almost brush your mouth against his cock in the process again, feel the heat of it on your face. Hajime nii waits a few seconds longer, and you reach up to grab his shaft with two soft hands, brushing your thumbs up to the head until another drop of precum drops out onto your naked thigh. You place it back onto your bottom lip, and lick over the slit like you’re trying to make up for something. “Oniichan’s the only one I do this with.”

”Good,” he unthaws only to push his cock back into your mouth, rubbing it onto your tongue with his face finally relaxing— getting that beautiful look of absolute pleasure back as he draws you closer. “Guess- ah, I’m pretty possessive. I don’t want my little sister to be touched by anyone else. Fu—ck, we need to stop.” The tug on your hair only makes your pussy more slick, dripping onto the floor below with embarrassing need.

You want niichan’s hand on you again, like when he sneaks into your bed at night. “Mhm, niichan. Niichan- Hajime nii!”

You want him to rub on you ‘til you see stars. Can you ask for that? Would he say yes? “Shit, that’s it. You’re so pretty. You’ve gotten so good at sucking cock. I’ve made you so good- such a good, little throat. You like it?” He bullies more of his cock into your mouth until you can barely see straight, and a choking strain sits on your lungs. “Or is it me, you like?” Both. Your poor center’s feeling like a fire out of control.

“Fuck. I’m- we need to stop doing this. You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” He holds your head like he wants you to stay though, pumps himself into you with losing patience.

“Ah- baby. You’re so special to me. Nothing compares to a big brother and his imouto, okay? Nothing. Don’t go playing with other men.” It’s hot when it enters the back of your mouth and burns to stretch you out, and tears well over as you’re looking at niichan with reverent eyes. “Come up here, baby, c’mere. Sit on niichan’s lap.” You’re dragged off the floor with an easy sigh and into his strong arms as they wind around you. “I know you won’t play with anyone else. You’re a good- little- sister.”

+

The giggle shoots like an arrow through your lungs.

“… G-girlfriend?”

Your eyes stay wide, and tears wind up filling them somehow.

“You have… a girlfriend.”

The stares of people passing by don’t sting nearly as much as watching them stand side by side. You’re not sure if it would hurt more, or less, if there weren’t two dozen prying eyes around. You’ve never felt this way before. Never felt so shitty.

Your bottom lip wobbles when you look at him. Watch his broad, infinitely bigger form crowd your vision as he takes a step closer, holding out his hands like you’re an animal caught in a trap. The comparison isn't far off, you guess, given that your voice shakes when you speak. “You said what we have is important to you- to only trust you. I trusted- y-you.”

“Trust me. We’re family. I have your best interest at heart-”

“You- the things we do are special— you shouldn’t do them with anyone else. You said that!” It hurts. “You kissed me!” You snap.

Pushing his hand away from you doesn’t stop your world from breaking down. 

After a few seconds, he takes a breath. His eyes flick around the courtyard with a baffled look.

“…On the cheek, imouto.” Liar. What a great fucking liar. Hajime’s blushing around his collar at the way people are staring, but you’re far worse off. The hiccuping spasm of your lungs makes it impossible to stop tearing up. There’s a deep shame that pours into your lungs and pools at your feet, and a thousand pieces of glass have been lodged into your throat. You can’t believe him— like you’re the crazy one.

Your tears spill over when you turn on your heel, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. “Imouto. Imouto~” As if your walk of shame back isn’t bad enough, he has the nerve to call your name. “I love you.” You refuse to look back.

You can hear the practiced way he puts his perfect smile back on, waving everything off with a well-practiced chuckle. “Sorry, don’t mind all that! Because we grew up in foster care, she’s a bit more possessive than most siblings. I swear she’s normally not like that.”

Her syrupy voice lets out a giggle. “I think it’s sweet!”

+

Ignore it, stuff it down, that feeling of being used for his base urges and being shoved aside after. Pretend it never happened.

Pretend it would stop stinging so bad if you gave it enough time. You’re still waiting on the part where you get rewarded for your commitment. You push the keys into lock and slide the door open with a sigh, drop your bags, only to freeze halfway to. A familiar white-blond turns over his shoulder to look at you as he rights himself on your couch, and you stop midway through kicking your shoes off to think.

Recognising the option that you might run, he explains first, then chuckles. “Don’t bolt out. Kotoha asked me to be here. I’ll be gone soon.”

It’s not the big win for you he seems to think it is. Any moment by his side is a bit too much for you, either way. When he turns back to the tv playing at low volume, you click your tongue, and resume taking off the rest of your outside gear to push through to the kitchen. “Kotoha nee’s not the only one living here. You should probably ask me too if I’m okay with you even being in here.”

“Don’t we both already know the answer?” He chuckles, makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Do you have to wonder why?” You bite back- you don’t mean to let him get under your skin, it just happens. Your throat is tight when you swallow, and that anxious feeling gets back onto your chest like it always does now when he’s around. “I wasn’t prepared to see your face tonight. I’ve had a long day, if you’re thinking of making it worse.”

Instead of responding to your jab, he only turns the sound down more. Sits in the dark room and lets his eyes follow you when you turn the light on to search through some of the cupboards. He smiles when he catches your eyes, however weary your gaze, and it softens his features too fondly. “This is the most I’ve heard you say to me in the last three years.”

“—Don’t expect it to become a habit.” You grab the bag of cornflakes with the intention of escaping to your room, but maybe because he knows you, Hajime stands from the couch to walk up. Too close, you bang yourself back against the counter with a hiss. “Get away from me.” He’s only matured since the days you used to be by his side, and maybe it’s being away from him so long, but everything about him feels big. He’s a heavyweight compared to you. “Hajime, I’m serious.”

He stops a few feet short of you to place his hand on the top row of cupboards, and the orangey kitchen light reflects in his dark eyes like a fire. “Do you feel better being this mean to me?”

“Huh?”

“If it makes you feel better, then I’m all for it. But it doesn’t seem to.” It rattles your chest, that feeling he’s giving you. It’s infuriating that it has goosebumps appearing on your skin. The familiar scent of him has nostalgia threatening to overtake you. “I miss you.” His deep voice is too soft. Too gentle for someone getting up in your face like he is, staring you down. Threatening the little island of peace you’ve worked years to build. “I’ve missed everything about you, even if you hate me for a while. I wish—”

“You of all people don’t get to say that to me. Are you out of your mind, you sister-fucking freak?” Hajime’s hand recoils on his way to touch you like he’s been slapped, and an unreadable expression comes to his face. It’s mean, but are you wrong?

Your eyes dart past him into the hallway. Kotoha should’ve told you he’d be here. Heat finds its way onto your face. “I’m not going to sit here listening to you act like you never did anything wrong.”

His smile sours, as he bends before you. So that you’re eye to eye, his hands on his knees. He licks his lips. 

It’s quiet, until the ground rumbles and seems to fall beneath you. “You know, I was always curious. Are you really mad we did what we did, or that I tried to stop?” The words cut through your shield like a serrated knife, ripping it open with too much ease. That’s not fair. It’s not like that. He’s no longer smiling as he studies your face too closely, as tears well up in your eyes and you can’t swallow them away.

It’s nothing you haven’t thought to yourself before.

That traitorous aching sits in your stomach again now, almost makes you collapse through your knees. “You only got upset after, didn’t you? Tell me, imouto. Was it really just me?”

You need him to stop. “Don’t say that.”

“You’ve got a lot of things to say, for someone who wouldn’t take baths or sleep without me. Someone who would beg to come along to parties so you could sit in my lap. But you hate me because I love you?” Hajime’s eyes burn with a fire you’re powerless against. 

“I didn’t do that knowing what it meant to you! You were getting off on it!”

“And so were you! On my tongue, many, many times!”

Your throat aches, and you swallow thick tears down with a cry. “I didn’t know all that before! I didn’t know! You knew I didn’t know.” Your cheeks hurt from crying like this, from staring him in his face like this. You wipe a hand over your eyes, and bite your bottom lip to keep the wobbling down. Who are you mad at, really? What is it that made you feel this way?

Despite not knowing an answer, words still make their way out of you like they radiate from your blood and bones. “I hate you! I hate you for taking advantage of me.”

That’s what he did. He left you. He’s the one who left you first. He looks at you so intently, like he’s ready to jump into your eyes and pull you out of the swallowing sea. Always so ready for self sacrifice. You always disliked that about him.

“And … I hate myself for being upset that you tried to replace me. I can’t stand you.”

You clench your eyes shut against the hot tears welling up— it’s an infuriating blow to your ego. Hajime’s hand reaches up to your face, connecting before you get the chance to pull away. He leans in, forces you back against the furniture too easily. Until you’re only a few breaths away from him, his voice lowering. “Shhh, shhh, shhh. My little baby sister. My only baby sister.” When you open your eyes, he’s nose to nose with you, wiping away streaking tears from your cheeks.

Thumbing your cheeks, before pulling you into his arms again. “Don’t cry. Shh, shhh, shh.” He grabs your wrists when you’re trying to pull away, and nuzzles into your neck. His smell’s overwhelmingly familiar— the way his shape fits against yours. The feeling of his breathing on your neck. It’s all too much for you. Your body slumps and you fall into his hold, right against his heartbeat— it feels so nice. Like you’re landing on your bed after years of being separated from it. Hajime nii presses a kiss to your jaw, then pulls you in deeper.

No, you won’t do it. You refuse.

“You’re still my favorite girl.”

His lashes tickle against your skin on the way up, and a pressure pounds between your ears as tears keep on slipping out. It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking traitorous that your heart beats faster when he says it. When his hands cup your face so he can whisper it against your lips. “You’ll always be my favorite girl.”

Your mouth’s dry and empty, and your heart pounds like a drum when a tiny peck is brushed over your lips, leaving too soon. “Forgive me? Hm?”

One hand goes to slide under your ass to grab hold of your thigh, and with one fell swoop he lifts you against his body and off the ground, and your arms wrap around his head to keep yourself upright. Through your tears, you can just barely make out his face, and the flushed way he’s staring at you with reverence. His voice falters when he says your name, and his mouth searches for an opening. “Can you please forgive me for loving you so much?”

Fuck.

you cannot quell the panic that fills you.

"hey, calm down." it is soothing, draken always knows what you need.

"breathe." you take deep breaths as he guides you, clutching your chest and nodding though he is not here to see. "now, tell me what happened. i'll come."

somehow, you feel lighter, "my mom's in the hospital... can you take me?"

"give me five. don't worry, okay?" you hum shakily as you slump on a bench and bury your face in your hands.

you sit there, cold and tired. you wish you could let yourself be consumed by sleep and this would be a bad dream.

that in the morning you would not have this guilt weighing on your shoulders.

the words 'five minutes' spiral in your thoughts because it certainly felt like hours. you fidget before messaging him. one after the next, asking where he is, if he is coming, why he lied.

though, it is left unanswered. he does not reply much less open it. your lips tremble, squeezing your fists so tightly you almost break skin.

you do not want to cry but it is all getting to you. as much as you fight it, you break.

loudly sobbing, roughly drying your face but it is coated with fresh tears a second after.

you keep telling yourself that he will come. you conjure up some stupid excuse for him because he never does it himself. it is times like this where you wonder if anything he said was genuine.

you need him here and he let you down. you should have expected it, he did it before. for someone who was more important that you, who would always be more important than you.

"yn?" you are sure you look horrible with blood shot eyes and messy hair. you are not able to move, simply staring as mitsuya parks his bike.

he is so kind, you do not deserve it. he hurriedly steps towards you, his eyes softening when a fresh stream of tears slip down your face.

"are you okay?" he tugs off his jacket, wrapping it around you before he kneels down and grips your hands. he immediately rubs them with his.

he tries to make you warm but all you feel is cold.

you should not ask, you are hurt enough but it is on the tip of your tongue.

it slips.

"where's ken?" you mumble when he guides you to stand. your eyes staring up at him, wide and tear filled.

"draken? he's with emma," it hits you like a freight train and it hurts more because you knew. you got the answer you were expecting but your chest still aches.

mitsuya's large palms cup your cheeks, swiping at the tears. his face coated in worry, "why are you crying?"

"my mom's in the hospital. can you take me? please." you are cut off when he tugs you against him. gentle as he strokes your hair and tries to ease your pain.

you sob into his chest, every part of you feels broken. your fists tangling in the fabric of his t-shirt and you press against him more. it should be draken.

you hate how desperately you wish he was holding you instead.

"i will, don't cry." he mutters into your hair, squeezing you before he lets you go. his fingers lace with yours as he guides you to his bike.

your head is filled with tumultuous excuses, anything to make you believe ken has a good reason.

he does not, he never did. not a word leaves you as mitsuya drives. even though your hands grip his clothes, desperately searching for something to keep yourself afloat.

when you are at the hospital, you feel like you are out of your body.

"i'll wait for you outside," mitsuya says, releasing your shoulders, having taken you to the room. the sight of your mother laying in bed unconscious, countless tubes and machines connected to her.

you fall to your knees, begging, pleading for her to get up. she is all you have left and you hardly see her.

you grasp her hand, you were seldom given that opportunity before. she is as cold as it is outside, maybe the weather was preparing you to feel her skin.

she is as cold as she acted to you your whole life and yet you cry for her to wake up. scream that she would at least open her eyes and tell you to stop your whining. she does not.

your heart breaks for the second time that night.

---

ken <3: come over

yn: not in the mood rn

ken <3: i just want you here

you thought he would at least apologise but when has draken ever?

he does not acknowledge it, he moves on like you mean nothing. like your feelings are none of his concern.

you were friends before this.

all this arrangement showed was how little he valued you. you know he loves emma and you know he is just fucking you. he would never feel more. not when it comes to you

you always see the hearts in his eyes whenever emma comes around, sometimes you wish he would look at you that way. others, you wish you never got involved with him in the first place.

it is so easy to be swayed when it comes to him. it is almost embarrassing how easily he can get you to give in.

you tell yourself you will leave the sorrow for the morning and you find yourself at his apartment.

you hate the way he smiles when he opens the door for you.

you hate how good he looks in that stupid tank top that is fitted to his body like a second skin.

you hate how he wraps you in his arms and presses a kiss to your cheek like he did not break your heart just last week.

you shrug him off, pulling the thin jacket from your shoulders and sitting on the couch.

"why'd you cook so much?" you mutter, watching him huff as he drops down next to you. you wish you could move away because he is too close.

he is in your space. his thigh is against yours. when it comes to draken, you are too weak and you have long known it would be your downfall.

"i know you haven't been eating." he scoops some of the rice and lifts the spoon to your mouth. you wish your heart did not flutter, that he was not able to break you down and build you up with such little fanfare.

you let him feed you, silently hurting at his smile. how it reveals his sharp k9s and that stupid chip in his front tooth that he got when you were kids play fighting.

you reach for the bowl and draken's expression falters. he swallows before running a hand through his dark hair. all he does is watch you eat, he tries to make conversation but your answers are brief. you wish he tried harder, that he tried when you needed him.

there is no excuse to give when you are finished eating. you are about to stand when draken stops you.

your body still responds to his touch, jitters wash over your skin. he always has some effect on you.

"you've been avoiding me. you know i don't like that," he is annoyed, it is eerie how calm he is physically when his voice sounds so threatening.

he does not have any right to be mad at you. your face sets in a scowl, "well, i don't like being lied to." you should not provoke him and from the way his jaw clenches, you can tell you are treading on dangerous territory.

"what?" his head tilts. you did not want to fight with him, you never fought with him for years.

there are so many things you let him get away with but it was never this deep. it never hurt you this badly. you have gone too far to stop now.

"you lied to me," you should have been done with him from that night on but when have you ever been able to leave draken alone? you are upset yet you are here, in his apartment looking him dead in his eyes and for the first time he looks angry with you.

"it's been a week, why are you still mad?" he has never looked at you with such an expression before. not with such narrow eyes or such a piercing glare.

"because you told me you'd come! you said you'd be there." your body feels hot with anger as you stand. "you said not to worry. well guess what, my mom isn't here anymore. you were right, one less thing to worry about."

your blood is boiling. for the first time his presence does not calm your nerves. instead, the longer you stare at him, the more infuriated you feel.

"don't blame me, you never got along with her when she was around. i didn't cause that." his lips pull back, he roughly grips your arm as he leans down to level your gaze.

"it's my fault because i waited for you. you always disappoint me but i waited for you." your finger presses into his chest. it is accusatory because the one behind your broken heart is at the end of your nail.

"you're being dramatic." he scoffs, tongue in his cheek while he looks away from you.

"am i? you're the one who said you'd come for me but what happened?" you shove at his shoulder when he rolls his eyes and remains silent. "what happened, draken?" the glare he sends you is deadly.

"did emma call? did you forget all about me the second she called your name? did you run to her when i'm the one that needed you?"

he breathes hard, you swear you see steam coming from him. he grips your upper arms and roughly shakes you.

"yes, you fucking know that so why do you keep asking?" he says it despite all the years you have known each other, regardless of any moment you have together. like all of it is insignificant.

it stuns you for a minute. you knew, yet it still makes your heart ache to hear him say it. you lose your composure entirely for that minute.

he loves emma and you are just a girl he fucks on the side. draken does not care for you any more than he needs to, emma is always going to be his priority.

you did not hold a candle to her flame. no matter how much you dream about it, you do not think you ever would. you grit your teeth, pushing his arms away and stumbling back.

"don't look at me like that," he sighs. his hands swipe over his face before they settle in his hair and he grips at the roots. he is incredibly conflicted, it is typical for him to draw you into his arms when that expression is on your face. though he has never been the reason behind it before.

your ears feel like they are ringing, you are struggling to hold back the tears that fill your eyes. you hate him, you wish you did. hating him is momentary, it is fleeting. your hate never lasts.

"you're a fucking asshole and i hate you." all you both want from this moment is to hurt each other.

"yeah right. say that the next time you're sucking my dick." he sneers. your eyes flicker, face contorting in disgust.

you feel sick. you wonder why you are still here. you truly do not want to throw away all those years you spent by his side. but what good is there fighting for something that can never be?

you hurriedly gather your things with one fleeting glance over his living room.

you swear this is the last time you will be here.

maybe one last grace is what you need to get over him.

draken breathes heavily, holding your wrist as he tries to bring you into his arms. for the first time you fight it, that is all it would take to break your resolve.

"fuck off!" he stares at you in shock. those pretty eyes are blow wide, you never shout at him. "God knows what was going through my mind when i agree to fuck someone like you."

you shove at his chest but it does not move him in the slightest. all it does is relight his anger.

he nears you despite how many times you try to distance yourself. "i don't need you. you think it would make a difference if you left?" cause at the end of it, you know emma is the only one that matters to him.

every word is clear, he enunciates it all because he wants you to be in pain, he wants you to go home and cry over him like you always do.

your whole body tenses, teeth grinding together because you can practically feel the ache in your chest grow more intense. you can feel your heart tear apart. why do you always get hurt in the end?

"fuck you, draken." that is the last thing you say, maybe it is synonymous for 'it's over' but you have never truly been done with him.

you push past him and it is only so easy because he lets you. he lets you leave, you wish he would stop you. you are stupidly hoping he will pull you back to him and tell you he is sorry.

unbeknownst to him the tears are already falling down your cheeks as you storm out of his apartment and slam the door. it feels like you are suffocating, like a second longer in that hell hole would asphyxiate you to death.

you cannot stand the thought of being around him right now yet you know if he apologises you will fall back into his arms.

you feel like throwing up all the food you ate. you feel like he ripped your heart from your chest and tore it to pieces. you flinch at the sound of him cussing, broken glass and stomping emanate from behind the door.

the closer it gets, the more your heart aches. you do not want to see him, you do not think you can handle being near him right now.

your breath shakes as you turn on your heel and run towards the staircase. you desperately needed to be anywhere but here.

--

you stare at the door while your heart is in your throat.

"baby, open up." he bangs on it and you sit curled up on the couch wondering if seeing him is worth the pain that will follow.

tears stream down your face when you shut your eyes. "are you seriously not going to let me in?" he raises his voice, roughly twisting the knob and sucking his teeth. he huffs in exasperation.

"i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry, just open the fucking door." draken speaks lowly. he does not want to alert the people in your apartment complex.

you are stupid.

for him at least because you do as he says.

you barely turn the lock and he forces it open. you see him and all you remember are the things he said last night.

"fuck, how much did you cry?" his thumb strokes beneath your swollen eyes.

you shove his hand away, "why are you here?"

"c'mon, baby, don't be like that." he always ruins you like this. when you try to get away all he does is bring you back.

and you go.

you go because draken fills your heart and no one compares to him. you have known him for far too long to ever let go.

his large palm cups your waist to guide you a few steps back and he shuts the door. he tugs his jacket off, placing it on the hook like that is his designated place.

like he belongs here.

"i wanted to see you." he draws closer. "i needed to see my girl." the tears come again. perhaps they never ceased. you are not his girl. not when he already has one.

"you've seen me, you can get out now." you should know better.

but you do not know when to leave and draken does not know when to let go. he tugs you in.

you hate to be near him as much as you love it. he holds you flush against him, tilting your head back to keep you looking at him. he is horrible. "you get so mad over nothing." you wish you could hate him.

despite you struggling against him, he is unmoved. just like he always is.

"you're so pretty." his plush lips spread in a heart quickening smile. your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, hoping and wishing him away although you are unable to push him back.

"stop imagining emma." he looks almost irritated when you say it.

"don't be stupid." he has to bend down to press his lips to yours. they are soft, like cotton candy fluff. it takes everything in you to not reciprocate as he kisses you without relent. though you are not responsive he sucks down on your bottom lip, nipping the flesh as he pulls away.

"you don't want to kiss me anymore?"

you shake your head and hurt crosses his face. his jaw clenches but desperation is written in his eyes.

"i want you to leave, draken." he flinches, a scowl on his face but he lets you go and you stumble back.

"i make you a little mad and suddenly i'm draken to you?"

"you don't get it, this is done. whatever this was."

he comes closer, at least he tries to. when you back away he seems stunned. "no it's not." you wish he did not know it so well that you are a fool for him.

"baby, what do you want to hear?" he grips your wrists to pull you in again.

"draken, it's done. i'm done, okay? i'm tired." you sob. you want to press your face to his chest and weep your pain away but he is the cause. he is the reason for it all but he is the only one you want comfort from.

"if you're tired, let's sleep. we're not done." he brings you to his chest, presses wet kisses to your cheek like he is not breaking you. "you want me to say sorry? i'm sorry. see, it's better now."

"it's not. just leave. gosh, just get out, draken." you shove at his chest but you swear a part of you dies when he lets you go.

"you want me to get out? fine. when you're done throwing this stupid tantrum and you come running back, i won't listen." his face is covered with anger.

he turns his back, the further he walks away, the more suffocated you feel.

he hears you crying.

it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

it is gut wrenching and heart shattering.

whether you see it or not, draken is crying too.

---

if draken does not hurt someone, he surely is going to break something. he can feel the glass straining under his fingers. he grips it tighter the longer he sees you with mitsuya.

you are here, looking like the prettiest doll in the world and you are not with him.

you are in blue, the dress clings to your perfect body and a ribbon is laced around your ponytail.

you are wearing blue and so is he.

truthfully, you and draken can never get rid of each other.

he sees you sipping on some fruity cocktail because that is all you ever drink. he loves looking at you, he always looks at you but he can see mitsuya too.

he can see how he leans closer to you, how his smile only grows wider when you laugh at something he says. he can see mitsuya draping his arm around your seat and being so attentive when draken knows he is the only one that should be around you.

why are you letting mitsuya so close to you? you were with draken for a long time, he was the only one right?

he only fumes more when mikey, emma and just about everyone around him agrees that you and mitsuya would make a good couple.

he sees red.

your eyes flicker to draken despite your attempts to ignore him. his hair is draped to a little below his shoulders, his shirt is fitted and from here you can see the rings on his fingers.

you see all those things, you see ripped jeans and black boots. you see emma practically sitting on his lap. you do not care.

you do.

you came to the conclusion that he is not willing to put her in danger.

but he is willing to be a danger to you and your heart.

"is it okay if i touch you?" mitsuya's hand hovers over your waist. you nod while sipping your drink. "you can say no." he quickly follows.

"i don't mind."

he sends you a smile and his hand softly caresses your waist.

"are you doing better? if you need to talk, i'm here for you." he is sweet, he has always been. mitsuya has never been a bad friend to you.

"thanks." you down the rest of your drink before turning to face him. "i'll be fine someday." your head screams at you for lying. draken is here and he is not with you. he is with someone else.

he has always been with someone else.

"i know things have been hard since." he pauses, his hand grasps yours. "since everything but i'd still like to see you. you can still come around like you used to."

his palms are so soft, draken's are not. draken's hands have callouses, they are rough and for some reason they feel like they were meant to touch you.

you consider mitsuya, he is your friend. your eyes glimpse over his features. his thumb strokes your hand and you have just begun to appreciate the feeling of someone other than draken when it is ripped away.

the one holding your wrist feels right even though it hurts.

draken towers above you, he sends mitsuya a stony look before he pulls you up and his hand squeezes your waist.

like he wants to overwrite any other person. like he needs to reclaim the places that are only meant for him and not for another man to touch.

you melt. you thaw like ice and turn into liquid. draken pulls you alongside him and you follow.

you have to take quick steps because his are much larger than yours.

once you are outside of the club, the silence is a stark contrast to the loud music. draken breathes heavily, brushing his hair back.

"were you fucking him?" you flinch when the words come out. that was the last thing you expect him to say.

"i'm not dealing with this, draken." you shake your head but he grips your waist. he holds your body and gathers you in his arms like he always does.

"stop treating me like a stranger." his voice strains. "tell me if you were fucking him on the side."

"you're terrible." tears prick your eyes. he has the audacity to accuse you when he has never been yours. he never gave himself to you.

"you did? was he your back up if i ever stepped out?" his fingers squeeze hard enough to bruise. "i never stepped out on you, not once."

"no, draken. i'm not like you." he is destroying you. whether he knows it or not. you are sure he knows it though because draken knows you better than anyone else.

"then why were you with him, why did you let him touch you?" you try to push him away, you really do. all you want is to lay in his arms and all he does is argue with you.

"who are you to ask me that? we're done, remember?" he grits his teeth, burying his head into your neck. draken breathes in your scent and lets it intoxicate him. you intoxicate him.

"we're never going to be over, baby. not you and me." he kisses at your exposed skin. it makes you want to cry more than you already are.

"you have emma." your voice trembles. you tremble. you feel like you are a tower of cards and you are about to collapse entirely.

draken leans back to meet your eyes, his gaze trails over the tears in your pretty eyes and the pout on your lips. his nose nudges yours and then he kisses you.

he kisses you and you feel him everywhere, all at once. you feel him in his palms gliding down your body. you feel him where his tongue claims your mouth all over again. in the spit that is messily exchanged as he sloppily kisses you.

you feel your blood growing hot enough to warm you completely. he pulls away to repeatedly peck your cheek.

"let me go." you brokenly whisper.

"we're going home, okay? i'm taking you home cause you're my girl."

---

when draken gets you into his apartment, he pulls you flush against him. his hands coax over every curve of your body. "i missed you," his nose nuzzles your cheek and you tense under his touch.

it is difficult to be mad at him and being this close is only breaking your resolve further. you push at his chest but all he does is tighten his hold until you can feel the hard, defined muscle of his abdomen.

he is too tempting.

he laughs though it is not very amused. his large palms, grip your waist before they drift to the hem of your dress and slip beneath it. "you're all dressed up and it isn't for me."

"it's not like that." you cannot protest much because draken grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the angle he tilts your head at is incredibly uncomfortable.

"it is, you got this pretty for him." your eyes roll, an annoyed noise leaving you. it did not make sense to dispute it, not when he already came to some conclusion in his head.

his hands cup your face, the thick of his thumb swiping over your lips, smearing the lipstick. "your makeup looks so pretty." his tone of his voice is indecipherable. you cannot seem to understand him these days. you barely have the will to try.

draken cannot stand the idea of you thinking about another man. it does not sit right with him that you got this pretty and went out with someone else.

draken does not need you to do all this for his eyes to be on you. he leans closer and you do not resist, you cannot.

not when his hooded eyes meet yours and your lips brush together. you need affection, his affection. you can not deny that no matter how hard you try to.

his tongue slips out to wet his lips before he tilts his head and kisses you. it is rough, it is desperate, it does not make sense. why does he kiss you like this when he does not love you at all?

he hums into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to brush over everywhere he has already been. places he always comes back to.

your hands bunch his shirt, eyes squeezing shut because you regret it but you still kiss him with the same burning need.

you pull away breathless, turning from him because it is obvious you are not done like you said you were.

"fuck," draken rasps, leaning in again to suck at your bottom lip. his cock pulses at the way you whine. he wipes at the saliva with his thumb before pressing it against your tongue.

"wanna fuck your mouth." you swallow hard, eyes fluttering. you should not, you know you should not but just this? you just need this much and you will leave.

"gonna be a good baby and let me?" the depth of his voice makes a shiver travel down your spine. how can you refuse when he talks like that?

draken never needs much to sway you, regardless of how stubborn you act. you grip his wrist, pushing it away and he is about to grab you right back when your smaller palms trail down his chest.

the corners of his mouth pull up, "there's my girl." it is drawn out and all too smug. his tongue swipes over his teeth like he finally got what he was waiting for.

your fingers dip into the rivets of his chest and abs. he is all hard muscle where you are soft. you slowly situate yourself on your knees, your hands resting on his thighs.

you are eye level with his erection that was straining in his pants since the moment he laid his eyes on you. he is still smiling, he missed the sight of you between his legs.

each and every time he got to see you look up at him like this, it plagued his mind. you keep watching as his dexterous fingers flex, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zip.

"fuck," his hands fidget, his whole body seems to be vibrating. he tugs his shirt up, his deep v-line framed by the waistband of his boxers is revealed to you.

"did you miss it?" he stares at you the second he pushes down his pants enough to let his cock out. it looks painfully hard. it is slightly curved, just the sight of it makes your insides ache.

he is too big.

draken is bordering on perfect. maybe that is why he is such an asshole. your finger swipes over his slit, pre oozing in thick droplets. your eyes trail from the swollen brownish head to the veins that trailed along the underside.

"i did." your confession comes out breathy, thighs clenching together almost on instinct. he hums, holding his length at the base, breath hitching at the sudden contact.

he presses the tip to your lips, the glossy finish of his pre looks better on you than that stupid lipstick. "open," he sighs quietly, focused on the sticky strands of your spit and the way your tongue squirms under the weight of his cock.

"fuck." his lip pulls back in a grin, he is pretty, especially when he has that expression on his face. your mouth encloses the bulbous part, your slick muscle laves around his slit and a low moan reverberates through ken's chest.

your mouth is too warm, too wet. it feels too good around him. the silky walls of your cheeks and the way your tongue always seems to be heated. how could you expect him to not be addicted?

you pull off, saliva dripping down his length and staining your face. you always got so messy, draken's jaw slackens when you run your tongue along his length before taking him back into the wet haven of your mouth.

you sink down on him and tears prick at your eyes because it is so much. your hand grips what you cannot fit before removing your mouth with a sniffle.

he is in awe at how little your hand always looks when it is grasping him. how much softer it is than his, how it struggles to wrap around him properly.

you jerk up and down his length, swallowing hard. there is an excessive amount of saliva in your mouth. you look up at him and he cups your face. your lips come around his cock, gradually hollowing your cheeks to take him more. the salty taste of his pre is in your mouth, somehow you missed it.

half of his cock is within the confines of your mouth and it seems draken was waiting until you could not retort.

"i hope you can still take me... or maybe you got used to less." his jaw locks, the thought of mitsuya getting his claws into you makes ken sick. your eyes flick up to his, streams of tears down your face. your lipstick all smeared.

ken wants it stained around the base of his cock if he is honest.

maybe then you would know it is only for him. his hand tangles into your hair, gripping the roots as a deep groan escapes him. he watches his length disappear past your lips, the walls of your throat fluttering around him, pulsing.

all the muscles squeezing his length make his hips stutter. perspiration coats his skin and his adam's apple bobs with each of his gasps as he sinks more of his cock past your lips.

it takes a while before your cute nose is pressed to his abdomen, nuzzling the short hair. he sighs, the silky walls of your tight throat are wrapped around him like it is only his to claim.

he lets you get used to it, holding you to his base whilst your tongue wriggles beneath his cock and the heat of your mouth covers him entirely. your hands tightly grip the fabric at his thighs, eyes fluttering continuously before they finally stare up at him.

almost like you are waiting for him to use you. he thinks your eyes should not look that wide nor that innocent.

maybe it is because they never changed even as you have grown. as long as draken has known you, you have never had anyone. he wants to be your someone.

his free hand wraps around your neck, there is a prominent bulge from his member and the feel of it beneath his fingers makes him shiver.

"bet you like having me in your throat like this." he practically whines. "fuck, m'agine you're choking on my dick like a slut." he anchors his hand in your hair before he slowly thrusts. he thinks the way your shoulders tense is too cute.

low moans leave him, he grows louder as his speed increases. he cannot leave you alone, not even if he wanted to.

he does not want to.

his head tilts back, he can feel your muscles moving along him, he can feel your tongue trembling at the underside.

your mouth is so slick with him it is easy to glide his length in and out of you. his abs strain, the veins on his abdomen appearing more. there is an impeding feeling inside him.

wet sounds fill the room as he fucks your mouth, the way he dreamed of during those days without you. he wants this back so badly.

he wants you.

tears freely coat your dewy skin. his thumb rubs at your neck, the bulge forming with each thrust pulses under his digit.

"does it hurt, baby? oh, fuck, getting your pretty throat rawed like this." you feel so, so good. the way you feel on him is inconceivable and indescribable. ken wants this forever.

his grip on your hair tightens as more pre cum is spewed into the back of your throat. he humps at your mouth, he cannot do without this, he cannot do without you.

draken's teeth grind, his breathing stuttering, the evident rise of his chest growing laboured all because he is using you. your lips look like they are straining, he can feel your breaths on him. the weight of your fist tugging his pants and pressing against him. he can definitely feel the need to cum approaching quicker than usual.

he is sure it will help with the soreness of your throat right now. ken wants to give you his cum and claim your mouth again.

"only thing you're swallowing is my dick and my cum" he hates the thought of it being anyone else. his head leans back, jaw dropped to moan.

he feels like he is losing his senses, he feels you all over him. his cock throbs in your mouth, slipping in and out of the perimeter of your slicked lips. "such a good fucking girl, feel so good." he bites down on his lip before hot air puffs from his mouth, his chest and shoulders tense.

draken's deep voice is cut by groans. he is there, he is so close. the warm wetness of your mouth, the drool leaking down your jaw, the tight grip of your throat stroking his length. he cannot take it much more.

he shoves himself completely into you, gripping your hair and caressing your face. he feels the muscles squeezing down on him because he is not supposed to be there.

he wipes the tears on your cheeks but it does not make a difference when everything is so messy. draken's hips stutter, his balls coated in saliva are leaning on your jaw.

you are too good. you are perfect.

his cock throbs, he is breathless and panting as his back tenses and an onslaught of cum is poured into your eager throat. there is so much it spews out of your mouth as you try your hardest to swallow it all.

"you're so good to me, baby." you take him so well, you always do.

he feels you swallowing the salty semen, he stills for a moment. the way your throat clenches on him is otherworldly. a tandem of curses leave him before he pulls you back by your hair and his cock slips from your tight throat.

it is obscene, how the mixture of cum and spit drips from your mouth and the sticky strands remain webbed to his cock. "holy fuck." he leans your head back, admiring the dazed look in your eyes.

he is panting, barely maintaining his composure. "you're so nasty, such a pretty cock slut, huh?" his lip tilts up as he says it. you only get like this for him.

his large palms reach down to lace his fingers with yours as he lifts you. his eyes glaze over your swollen lips and the tear streaks staining your cheeks.

he is quick to press his body onto yours and kiss you. it is way too sweet, especially since his taste is still tainting your mouth. he moans, tightly wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you harder.

his teeth hit yours and ken is pushing more into you. a deep hum reverberates through him as his tongue glides along yours. it has more wetness coating between your thighs. you wondered why he fit so perfectly with you when he was not made for you.

"don't show anyone else this pretty face, it's only for me." he huffs barely an inch away. he will not let you get on your knees for another man. not as long as he is alive.

his frivolous fingers grope your ass, tugging the fabric of your dress up. the roughness of his finger tips press against the wetness your pussy has leaked into your panties. his greedy touches are accompanied by wet kisses to your cheeks.

you wish you could resist him and you try, you really do. "draken, enough." your voice is weak and distant, you hold his wrists but you do not do anything to stop him. you want to distance yourself from him. you want to end this, right?

a scowl pulls over kens features, "don't call me that like you weren't just sucking my dick." nothing you do can get you away from him. draken is truly unshakeable even as you push at his built chest.

"i want to go home," you huff, shoving at him harder but all it does is make him grip you until you are hissing in pain. "no." you brows furrow at his refusal.

draken wants you to understand that you are home. he has been dropping signs for you to stay here for years. how dense are you? when will you understand that it is you and him against the world.

"we're either fucking or this is the last time you see me," you stare at him in faux disgust. like the thought of him repulses you because you desperately try to convince yourself of it.

you swallow hard. "i already told you, we're done."

he does not falter, not even a little.

instead he reels you in closer. his harsh touches are gentler now, tracing your cheek and dusting over your lips. his eyes are so intense as he glimpses over your features. he is not holding you to him, not anymore.

you can pull away, you can leave so why don't you? something about draken enamours you until you lose cognisance.

"you don't really want that. you don't want me to go away." his voice is like temptation incarnate. he strokes at your hair, brushing the stray strands back.

perhaps, you are too far gone when it comes to him. he is all you have ever known, how can you leave him now?

he sees your bottom lip tremble at the thought and he is pulling you into his embrace. he tucks you under his chin, right against his heart. "it's okay." you cannot think much when all you can smell and feel is him. when you can still taste him on your tongue. "sleep with me and your ken won't ever leave."

he does not need a verbal response because the empty look in your eyes tells all. you are like a ditzy slut but you are his so he is okay with it.

draken scoops you up into his arms. something he usually does. your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt whilst he carries you.

everything about you is doll like, from your features to how easily he can do with you as he pleases. you are engulfed by his scent more, if that is even possible. he situates you on his sheets, where you have spent too many nights to count.

you stare at him with wide glassy eyes. what is it that you wanted to say? no? you wanted to say no.

you wanted to be done and you wanted him to leave you alone but the thought makes you nauseous. it makes your heart ache and your ears ring. you cannot fathom being without him.

when his large frame leans down to kiss you gently. when he is cupping your face and tilting your head to deepen it. you cannot say no, not when he is doing all the things you dreamed of.

he is so much bigger than you, in every way. his palms are large and he is covered in muscle. he is tall and intimidating.

he could hurt you. instead his touch coaxes over your waist before he laces his fingers with yours.

"you're so fucking gorgeous." he muses. draken straightens up, looking down at you nestled in his sheets. it is where you belong.

he thinks you look like an angel, one that is fresh out of heaven. your eyes do not leave him as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and swiftly tugs it over his head.

he flashes you a grin, his body flexing beneath your heavy gaze. you are admiring the scars on his skin, the sharpness of his abs and the definition of his biceps. why is he so perfect? why does he always look so stunning?

"like it?" you nod your head as he slips his thumbs into the rivets of his v line and tugs his jeans and boxers down.

he is bare when his knee digs into the mattress and he leans over you. "yeah? you like me?" his hand pets your hair, like you are a dumb puppy begging for praise. your cunts leaking from everything he does, you can feel the liquid dripping from your slit to your ass. "you love me. you do" draken groans.

you nod so eagerly, your throat feels constricted, you are so overwhelmed. everything he says is true. everything he does makes you want him more, love him more.

his strong arms wrap around you, the touch of his fingers on your spine makes you arch up. he is finally unzipping your dress after craving to do it for so long. he kisses your mouth softly, trailing down your neck and continuing over every inch of skin that is revealed as he tugs the fabric down.

draken settles on his knees, his hot breath hitting your breasts and wet, open mouthed kisses are left down your stomach. he huffs, his nose digging into your flesh as his hot tongue slips out. it presses into your abdomen, just above your cunt.

you grip the sheets, the sharpness of his dark eyes meet yours as the length of his tongue trails over your tummy.

there is so much tension in the air it is almost suffocating, you find yourself wishing his tongue was inside you already.

he leans back, thumbs hooking into your panties and stripping you bare of all your clothes. the slick between your legs is sticky to your panties, so soaked they are peeled away.

you swallow hard as draken's hands cup the back of your knees and spread you open for him.

"you have the prettiest cunt, i swear." he whistles. his eyes grow darker the longer he stares. he is entranced by how easy you are to wind up. "all you did was suck some cock and you're dripping." there is a hum deep in his chest.

you are left staring up at him dumbly as he admires you. you cannot formulate a coherent thought aside from him. he is the only thing in your head. your ken.

your body feels unbelievably warm, inside and out with all his fleeting touches. he leans down, your thighs propped on his shoulders as he gets closer to your slick cunt.

you feel like you are intoxicated somehow. maybe it is the alcohol but you only feel this high when he is the one touching you.

his middle and ring finger glide over your sopping entrance. a whine escapes you, fingers tightening in his sheets as he slips one of the lengthy digits inside you. he does not stop, not at all. it is relentlessly pressed all the way to his knuckle.

even as you whimper, even though your walls pulse around him. his eyes do not leave yours when the length of his tongue slips out. a thick glob of saliva slipping from the tip to your already messy cunt.

the pinkness of his lips enclose around your stiff clit. his tongue gliding along it as he sucks and the other coated finger is forcing its way inside.

he needs to stretch you out and fast. he needs you ready to take him. "ken!" it is high pitched, bordering on a whine. you grip his hair. you are already panting, already wanting more.

draken's free hand glides from your hip to grip your waist. he moans into your pussy, the vibration travelling through your entire being. his fingers pump into you with messy sounds. it is like you are sucking them in, as if you do not want to let him go.

wet squelches echo through the room, slick leaks from you and stains his digits.

"there's my girl, keep saying ken." his tongue prods your stilted bundle of nerves, sucking on it like he has done before.

he knows your body like the back of his hand. knows that every curl of his fingers within your dripping cunt has your hips stuttering and your back arching up.

he knows that his mouth on your clit makes your eyes water and your jaw hang open. knows that those moans are because he is hitting so deep inside, you cannot control yourself.

you are breathless when his fingers slip out and his mouth encloses your dripping slit. his tongue is pushed in entirely. you are squealing at the wet muscle that wriggles along your walls.

draken's eyes roll back at the taste of your cunt and he moans. he went without it, without you for too long. he does not think he can do it again.

he will not let himself be without you for that long ever again.

you cry his name, fingers gripping his hair for some semblance of self control. the tighter you hold, the harder he sucks on you.

draken feels like he could spend forever between your legs. like he could die happy if the last thing he tasted was you. his mouth has you drooling and cross eyed. it has your thighs trembling and you bite your lips so much they are raw.

ken is the only one who gets you like this, he is the only one who will ever get the opportunity. "feels good. so good. s'deep." you babble on and on and ken thinks it is the cutest.

he is lapping at your cunt like a man who is deprived of water. honestly, he is and he is upset with you. of course he is.

who did you think you were staying away from him?

he pulls back, slick coating his lips and covering his tongue. "wanna cum." you mewl and his brows raise. his fingers slip right back inside you, all at once. he does not miss a beat as he fucks them into you. "think you deserve it? you haven't been nice, babe." he presses his face to your plush thigh.

gazing up at your expression, you already look like you are fucked dumb. "m'sorry, sorry, ken. i'm sorry." you whimper, dainty fingers reaching for his hand to hold it.

you are such a baby.

what did you get by acting like this aside from making him obsessed with you?

it is such an adorable apology but you spent days away from him. he could hardly function, why did you think it was okay to do that to him? he is catching tears in your eyes, like crystals that are priceless. he sees your snotty nose and pouted lips.

he truly cannot let go of you.

his fingers quicken and your head hits the sheets, leaning back as your hips rock. "close, baby?" your head bobs quickly, "so closeee." your voice is all drawled and heavy with desire.

his mouth covers your cunt again, still fucking into you as your entire body heats up. your stomach feels like there are a million knots within it.

you are crying out his name so adorably, ken cannot help but grin a bit while he is making out with your pussy. your hand squeezes his, nails nicking his skin as you rock your hips against his face. the burning in your abdomen intensifies, only growing greater.

your thighs shift closer together but he is there to stop them, your back arches completely off the mattress when you reach that high. your mind feels white hot, vision going blurry because he does not stop even as you cum.

your tongue is practically lolling out as he laps at your cunt and your body vibrates from the feeling. high pitched moans fill the room all breathy and desperate.

your chest heaves, gripping ken's hand as you try to find your bearings. you can feel his breath hit your entrance, he does not make a move from where he is.

"those days you were ignorin' me." he pauses, his fingers dig into your thigh. you can feel him squeezing your hand tightly, it is not as gentle as it started.

"did you let him see you like this?" your eyes flutter, trying your hardest to steady your breathing. "i didn't sleep with him." you mumble, leaning into the softness of the pillows. your body feels exhausted already.

ken roughly pulls away from you, the sudden jolt shocks you but he is over you in a second. his hand grips your jaw, gaze narrowed. "don't lie." his voice is low in warning. it is hard to keep a straight face when cum is covering his lips and dripping down his face. it makes you flustered completely. his eyes stare into yours as though he is attempting to read your soul.

"m'not lying to you, ken." you shove at his chest but all draken does is grip both your wrists to tug your body down the bed.

he has your legs on either side of his waist and his cock's resting on your stomach. he can see where he will reach once he is inside. his hands caress your thighs, trailing to your hips that he grips lightly.

he leans down to claim your lips, your slick rubbing onto you and resting on your tongue. your body feels weak but your arms wrap around his neck and bring him closer. fingers wound in his hair as you kiss him more desperately, more lovingly. you wish he would believe you, when have you ever betrayed him?

his palm slips between your spread legs, prodding your entrance and you pull away from his mouth with a hiss. you are pushing at his forearm but ken does not approve at all, it is evident in his expression.

"ken, wait for a bit..." you are still unbearably sensitive. he does not see it that way, instead his head tilts, eyes so dark they seem black.

"did mitsuya loosen you up for me?" his tone is covered with anger, he feels sick to his stomach. he is being tortured by images of you and him. ken cannot take it, not at all.

your eyes widen at his words, stilling for a moment. "don't talk to me like i'm some slut." there is a frown tugging ken's lips down. you were doing so well, everything was going so well and now he is upset about things that never happened.

"you are, you were fucking him too." he grits out, jaw clenching tightly. the thought makes him want to throw up. it makes him want to hurt mitsuya for ever putting his hands on you.

"i didn't do that, ken. when did you stop trusting me?" your chest heaves, brows furrowed in dismay.

"since you started being a whore." your lip trembles, eyes filling with tears that burn. your throat feels like if you speak you will break down into tears.

you turn your head away from him, sniffles leaving you as you desperately fight tears. they still coat your cheeks like an endless waterfall.

you did not want to break down in front of him, you did not want him to see how easily he makes you cry. it is too late when you are in his room, on his bed with your heart ripped out of your chest and given to him. your body shakes with sobs, squeezing your lids shut.

"why do you always do this to me?" your voice is broken. the second his fingers stroke your face, you wonder why you always give him this power.

why do you let him him make you cry and break you down without consequence? "because i want you here." he breathes, his large palms encasing your breasts and rubbing at your nipples.

he kisses you even as you cry, even as you sob into his mouth but it is okay because you let him slip his tongue inside.

you are still okay with him biting on your bottom lip and kissing you like this. his touch trails down your stomach to your hips.

a sigh leaves him as he reaches for his hard erection, so much pre cum leaking from his swollen tip. he guides the head between your spread folds.

an excessive amount of slick coating him while he drags it along your opening. your pussy seems to miss him as much as you did because your treacherous body is growing hotter.

you both looking at where he breaches you, your breath catches at the thickness of his head is forced into your gummy walls. "real fuckin tight." ken whistles, his abs tenses because he is seconds away from fucking the entire thing into you.

your cunt is like nirvana, your insides squeeze down on him although he barely put the tip in.

"i missed you." he huffs, his fingers dig into the thick flesh of your thighs, his hips slowly surging forward and making you cry. "c'mon open up, relax for me." he thrusts again, your back arches up.

you whimper his name, ken loves the way you say it. his thumb swipes over the barely there lipstick on your mouth before he is pressing it inside.

your spit filled mouth encloses around the digit and ken grins. his eye brows knit together at the slick sound that comes from your pussy gripping him.

your silky walls are pulsing around him uncontrollably. ken wishes he could be inside you forever. he rolls your clit, your cunt gushing over his cock and he only fucks more of himself into you with each thrust.

your hand presses against ken's abdomen but he is so much stronger. he clicks his tongue. "don't try to run from it. y'know you can take it." his voice is so deep it's almost gravelly. your resistance is trembling.

"i can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me, i know you want more" his thumb slips further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you gag. "i know you want to be stuffed full, you missed it, didn't you?" you nod dumbly.

he thinks you look pretty like this, swollen lips and messy hair. filled with cock and sucking on his thumb like you are made for it. you are, you are made for him.

it takes one particularly hard thrust before he is completely inside of you. his entire cock throbs alongs your pulsing walls, your body tenses because you feel so unbearably full.

you whine, you swear he is nudging your cervix. you can feel him in your stomach, you can see where the head of his cock has it bulging. you moan his name and all it does is make ken smile.

his girth stretches you out so much that it burns. you are left with your chest heaving as he pulls your leg onto his shoulder and he holds the other open.

he can see your cunt spread open around him, your pelvis is flush to his, your insides are holding him so tightly he feels like he can barely move.

his hips slam into you, your body jolts and your legs shake. he leans over, lifting you until your ass is off the bed and fucks you the way he was dying to in all the days you were not with him. "baby, baby, you're perfect" he pants. "got the sweetest cunt."

the lengthy locks of ivory hang on either side of his face, he looks too pretty. you are a whimpering, drooling mess beneath his large frame.

you press on the spot that distends your tummy with each pump of his hips. you both sigh at the feeling. ken is looking at where you are taking him between your legs, where his cock slips in and out completely doused in your juices.

you are met with the chain you got him. it hangs in your face and the anklet he got you is right next to his ear. in mockery, in proof, you are not quite sure.

when draken fucks you like this he wonders why it was so difficult for you to accept that you are his.

your fists find the soaked sheets, your body feels hot and sweat coats your skin. you feel like there is cotton in your head. tears stream down your cheeks and traces of saliva are on your lips. you are always so easily lost in him.

your eyes squeeze shut, he is pounding you into the sheets like you are a sex doll. ken is all you can feel, all you can think about. you sigh in contentment. you are hardly coherent.

"ken, you're so big." you mewl, his fingers dig into your skin, his nails pressing against the flesh.

"yeah? you missed me fucking you? missed having my cock deep in this pussy? pretty girl, all you think about is my dick." you whine and his voice is filled with amusement.

growing breathy the longer he is wrapped in your vice walls and covered in your viscous liquid.

he slams his hips to yours, each dragging you along his length. you can feel his skin sticky everywhere you are touching him.

your cream forms a white ring along the base of his cock and leaks down his balls. "messy." he clicks his tongue. your little body looks so precious under him.

you are taking a cock that is way too big for you but you take it so well.

you always do.

you can hardly think when he is shoving so deep inside that you swear he is bruising your cervix. a light clink and the coldness of metal on your forehead has your eyes opening in confusion.

"ken?" he does not stop moving. your body shakes and you writhe from his brutal ministrations. "you scared, baby?" he grins, his hand comes down to rest on your sternum and he leans over you more.

you are not scared, it should worry you that you are not scared in the slightest.

you trust him with your life.

even as he holds a gun to your head you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid of him.

it should worry you even more that the only thing that generates a reaction from you is him pressing the same gun to his temple.

you jerk.

"stop!" you cannot even reach for his hand when he is holding you down like this. you are so insanely confused.

a new influx of tears streaming from your eyes as your pleas fall on deaf ears. you wish he would stop being reckless.

"isn't that cute? now you care." he pauses his hips, your nails dig into his forearm but draken does not flinch.

he accuses you when he is the only thing you care about, the only thing you ever think of.

"i want to you to know, this is what will happen if you leave me again." your lips part in shock, his eyes are dark. so dark.

there is an overwhelming feeling of worry washing over you.

"ken, this is crazy." your voice cracks as you cry.

"is it?" you are painfully away that his cock is throbbing inside you. "it's crazy that you were running around with some other guy."

"i wasn't, i swear i wasn't."

"are you going to leave me, baby? that's all i need to know." his hand leaves your sternum to stroke your cheek. it is so gentle.

your heart feels like it has taken too much pain to work. "you don't want me." it hurts. it hurts but you know it is true.

drakens lips pulled back in a scowl. his expression is unreadable, he is unreadable. you never understand him.

he applies pressure to the trigger and nausea fills your senses. your scream bloody murder because you have to look at him hold a gun to his head but you cannot do anything. he does not allow you.

"promise you won't leave." he says and you cry, pleading endlessly. you cannot handle losing him in any capacity. you cannot lose him at all.

"m'sorry, please don't" your throat feels so tight, it hurts to speak. "i won't leave so please stop!" you hiccup, holding his hand and praying he can see the desperation in your eyes.

"say it again" his eyes grow hooded, like those words falling off your tongue are music to his ears. you only sob harder.

"i won't ever leave you. i promise i won't." you voice is hoarse and wavering. your eyes do not move from the metal barrel aimed at his head.

you are fretting in worry but ken looks glad. he looks delighted even. the flash of his teeth makes you swallow.

"and you love me?" his head tilts. "i do." you whisper. you have never told him that before.

how could you protect your heart if you were professing your love for him? right now it does not seem to matter.

"i love you, ken. always did." your voice is barely audible, you swear the pounding of your heart is louder than it.

"close your eyes." you shake your head, completely confused. you are terrified.

"do it if you love me." tears leak from your eyes because now you do not have a choice. you shake with sobs as you close your eyes.

"good girl, such a good girl. you're always so perfect for me." draken's body covers yours, his nose nuzzling your face and you cry harder when he kisses your skin.

"please, ken, please, please." your arms wrap around him, fingers finding purchase in his skin because you cannot see him.

"are you scared?" you nod your head with a broken whimper.

"please, ken, i love you. i need you." you cannot see the grin that crosses his face but draken is all too pleased.

his mouth meets your ear "i need you too." you feel an ounce of relief and then the shrill of a gun unloading makes you scream.

it is so loud you instantly feel sick. your entire body trembles, your scream aches your throat and shakes everything in the apartment.

your heart feels like it jumped out of your chest and you are expecting blood or a body but instead you hear draken's low laugh and your eyes open.

"don't leave again or it'll be a bullet." it seems he is finally satisfied. he drops the gun to the sheets and you shove it further away.

his palm cups your cheek and brings your attention back to him. he wipes at your tears, cooing at your miserable expression.

"you only have me to love. remember that." you cannot process his words. your chest is heavy, breathing stuttered by panic. still racked with sobs but you are reaching for him.

his large frame is tugged down over you, practically covering you completely. your leg is pressed closer to your chest. he is so warm, you can feel his skin and remind yourself that he is here.

he causes all your troubles yet he is the only person capable of comforting you. "relax." he coos but it only makes you cry harder.

your body trembles against him but all ken has to do is wrap his arms around you and your worries lessen. "please, never again." because you swear your heart will stop beating if he put a gun to his head for a second time.

he pacifies you with sweet caresses along your hair before he pulls back. he smiles when you whimper, drying your cheeks but they are freshly coated with new tears. you are touching at his skin frantically, anything to remind yourself that he is really with you.

"gonna let me fuck you like you deserve? since you were such a good girl." his eyes do not leave yours, he nods his head and you find yourself nodding along with him despite how far gone your mind is.

draken hums, leaning over you as your legs wrap around his toned waist. he smiles, swiping at your tears, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips before he trails down your neck.

your eyes flutter, breathing finally slowing but a gasp escapes your lips as his mouth encloses your nipple. you swallow hard, thighs tensing around him.

his eyes flick up to yours, face all too smug when his hips begin to rock. his teeth scrape the skin of your nipple, tongue flicking over it as he pulls away.

"like when i play with these cute tits of yours?" you are too flustered, way too dazed and dumb. your head leans away, why does he make you feel like this? his deep voice has your cunt leaking and your heart beating out of your chest.

"don't act shy, your pussy's squeezing me so hard, i know you like it." you do not have a chance to deal with the way his words have settled heat into your bones because his mouth encloses over your throat to leave more marks.

his thrusts are growing faster, rougher and you find yourself melting into a puddle, like dough you become whatever he wants.

you are only capable of moaning his name so prettily that draken's insides grow fuzzy. you are so good, too good. your hand slips into the lengthy strands of his hair.

"ken." you tug him closer, you wonder how much closer he can get than being deep enough to hit your cervix. you want him closer than his lips brushing against yours every time he fucks his hips into yours. you want him closer than the way your nipples are grazing his hard chest.

you want to crawl into his skin and make it your home.

you want him.

you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your tongue slipping into his mouth when you pull him down. you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, he is bruising your waist and hips.

spit coats your mouths like gloss. "ken, i love you, i love you." you never said it to him, regardless of the countless times you thought it when you looked at him.

hearing those words roll off your tongue almost makes draken cum instantly. you are finally able to say it and you want to take advantage of it.

"fuck. you're mine. not mitsuya's, not anyone else's." his cheeks are reddened, the sharpness of his thrusts makes your back arch off the sheets. his chest heaves, the brown of his eyes stare into yours "you're mine."

you nod because it is all you ever wanted. you say yes, you sign yourself over to him entirely. you would do it in this lifetime and every single one that came after.

you cannot think at all, your jaw hanging open, your nails digging into his skin. you can feel the sting against your thighs with every thrust. something about the way he crowds over you, so much bigger, covered in muscle makes your insides hotter.

it makes you burn with want and need. your legs wrap around his waist tighter. feeling ken's hand grip your throat. you want him in every way.

you want him to fuck you like this and kiss you sweetly later. you want draken more than you have ever wanted anything else. and draken wants you like that too.

"you're my girl, my slut," he huffs into your face and the whine that leaves you is atrocious. the feeling he stirs up inside you with just those words is insane.

"maybe if i knocked your pretty ass up, you'd stop acting so stupid" he slams his hips into yours, he thrust so hard that he opens up the inside of your gummy walls every time and hits so deep you lose yourself a little bit more.

all draken can think about is pouring load after load into your leaking hole and giving you his baby. all he wants is to pound inside of you until there is no doubt that you will be swollen with his seed.

"huh? if i gave you a baby to take care of, you wouldn't have time to get mad at me" you mewl, your nails dig into his skin. he leans down to messily kiss you. his spit feels sticky in your mouth, he kisses harder, his cock being fucked into you so roughly your head blanks.

"pussy feels so good inside. you're going to take it right? all for me? going to take my cum and keep it in this cute cunt?" you cry when he pounds particularly hard and you can feel every inch of him.

you bob your head in agreement although you have no clue what he says.

"ken i love you so much." you babble, tears leak down your face.

"yeah? i should give you something then, since you're so good. should stuff this tight little hole with so much cum. you want it, pretty baby?" draken flashes you a grin when you nod. your eyes flutter, he pounds his hips harder and harder.

his movements grow uneven, he groans into your face. pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. he loses himself in the feeling of your vice walls squeezing him.

"you'll make such a pretty mommy." his forehead meets yours, you whimper so adorably when you clamp down and your pretty cunt creams all over him.

even then draken does not give you a moment's rest.

he curses lowly, his hips press flush to yours, only pulling out partially before slamming roughly into you. your body writhes with oversensitivity. you claw at his flesh, crying softly.

when he cums you swear it burns. it paints every inch of your walls and the sticky strands of cum seem never ending. it pools in your cunt and seeps around the perimeter of his thick cock.

he is panting over you, his face buried in your neck and your fingers slip into his hair. you stroke it even as he remains inside you. even as ken wraps his arms tighter around you and he presses kisses to your throat. "don't leave." he whispers so softly into your skin that you would have missed it.

"i won't." you mumble back and he huffs a heavy sigh like the reassurance is everything he needs and more. his strong arms squeeze you, fingers taunt on your skin as he coddles you against him. your legs tighten around his waist and you really think that this is what bliss truly is.

he does not want to let you go, he does not want to leave you.

his mouth presses into yours, gently kissing you, he peppers kisses to your face before he leans back. a whine escapes you when he slips his cock from your pussy.

you can feel the cum he kept plugged inside you gushing out and your body tenses. it finally dawns on you what he did. draken's eyes trail from your messy cunt to your expression and he is bothered by the unsureness contorting your features.

he presses a deep kiss to your mouth, almost like he wants to remind you it is him, that it is okay because it's him, that you were going to be with him one way or another. he caresses your face and you pursue your lips as he stands from the bed and goes to the bathroom.

you are stuck in your thoughts, your eyes on him when he reenters the room and he starts wiping you off. you are sore and tired yet you cannot seem to sleep because what does this mean for you and him?

once he is done he climbs into the bed with you, he tucks himself along your side, his bicep your pillow and his nose nuzzling your cheek. you are both still completely bare, his arm wraps around your waist and it is silent for a moment before his deep voice flitters through the air.

"do you think it took?" your brows raise, eyes slightly alarmed. what does he mean by that? you know what he means. you swear it was all in the heat of the moment.

your eyes meet his, "what?" you are exasperated but draken is unphased.

"my seed." it makes a shiver run down your spine. you furrow your brows, you are not sure what you should say.

"i don't know... i don't think so," you cannot picture yourself pregnant, not right now. you never thought he would want that, not with you.

you are surprised by how disheartened he seems.

"we can keep trying." his hand trails along your waist until it sits low on your stomach. you are stunned, you are entirely in disbelief. he gently strokes the flesh while your thoughts are a jumbled mess.

when his gaze meets yours, he smiles. it is too dangerous.

"i hope our baby has your eyes."

You don’t know if you’ll get a job, if you’ll ever regret your career path, if you’ll move out or stay with your parents. 

In short terms, you don’t know anything. The future is completely and purely uncertain.

But one thing is crystal clear though: you’re gonna be Tom’s wife, there isn’t a single doubt about that. 

Although technically you’re already his, Tom has a strange obsession with binding you in the most sacred relation there is, despite having no actual respect for it. 

The last year at Hogwarts is…enlightening, to say the least. Tom never fully discloses his plans, you already knew that, but he did share small but frightening pieces of information.

During all the years that you’ve known Tom, he’s been power hungry, his brilliant mind preparing for when he finally leaves school and you know it’s not peace-seeking type of plans. 

Rather the opposite.

And it scares you to death. You don’t want to be a part of it, of any of his deranged plans to conquer immortality and power. While he was a teenager, it was easy to ignore his delusions but now?

Soon Tom will be able to do whatever he wants and it’s clear that he fully intends on making his plans come true with a steel determination. 

It made you uncomfortable and uneasy, straining the already poor relationship you had with Tom. But none of your attempts to distance yourself from him were successful. Tom would never let you out of your leash, would he?

Willingly or unwillingly, you’ll always have to come back to him. 

As soon as you graduate from Hogwarts, Tom won’t waste any time marrying you. It would be a very private ceremony as you and Tom hold hands, dressed in black attires.

None of your family was invited, Tom didn’t even dignify informing them about the wedding. You're surrounded by his fellow Death Eaters, who serve as witnesses for the promises of Unbreakable Vow that Tom has you doing. 

Obedience. Submission. Devotion. 

You’re less of a wife and more like a slave when the ceremony finally ends.

Committed to a man that you fear.

Bound in a way that only death can put an end to it. 

And that’s what you pray for. 

Rin Itoshi

After his brother left he started to act coldly to everyone else- including you.

As he would dedicate his entire life to football, it meant sometimes ignoring your needs,

Whether intentionally or unintentionally he would brush you off, leaving you to deal with things alone

Rin would be insensitive towards your feelings- saying things that would hurt you unknowingly

“You know… You didn’t need to say that…” You looked down at the ground as Rin just stared at you coldly, as if you were nothing. “Say what? That you aren’t important enough for me to care about? I talk to you almost everyday, isn’t that enough?” He said, his voice laced with venom. It hurt you, to say the least. Was it the way he said it so indifferently? Or was it the way he looked at you as if you were a nobody, someone who he just saw as a stepping stone to his goal. “Rin ! Can’t you just understand that you can’t just say that to me and expect me not to feel hurt from it?! Why do you treat me as just a ‘someone’ to you!? I’m your fucking girlfriend for god’s sake— can’t you understand that I need you to at least talk to me and act like you love me?!…”

Sae Itoshi

Similar to rin, he would act cold to you, but unlike rin he does it intentionally

Sae could ghost you for days and respond with a simple “k”

He doesn’t really realize that what he’s doing is a bad thing, and he refuses to accept his faults

Doesn’t trust you AT ALL but he himself lies or keeps things from you intentionally

“Sae… We need to talk” You looked at your boyfriend as he was laying on your bed, he turns to look at you with a bothered look. “What is it this time Y/n…” Sae groaned as he got his phone to do something. “Sae- listen, I know it’s kind of selfish for me to ask but… can you try to make time for me… You never really talk to me that much anymore…” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Sae to hear you. “Am I not good enough for you?” He asked rhetorically with an annoyed look on his face. “No- That’s not what I meant-“ You shrieked as Sae suddenly stood up and walked up to you and grabs your wrist. “Then stop being selfish. I’m here aren’t I? I took a trip away from Spain to see you, can’t you just be thankful that I’m spending my time with someone as worthless as you?”

Michael Kaiser

Michael is a really complex character to say the least,

He can manipulate you into doing things that would benefit him under the guise of “making him happy”

Forces you to be more dependent on him so you feel more obligated to do what he wants

Sae 2.0 but worse

Puts himself above you, seeing you as just a emotional support when he’s upset

Expects you to be there for him whenever he’s angry or distressed, but doesn’t do the same for you because he thinks he’s more important than you.

Has MAJOR attachment issues and even if things got extremely toxic you couldn’t leave. He either guilts you into staying or you just come back to him.

You walked up to Kaiser after one of his matches, “Michael… I don’t know if it’s the right time, but can we talk?” Kaiser looked at your serious face with his usual playful look. “What is it, mein liebling? I don’t have all day” He said with a playful yet degrading tone. “I… I wanna break up, this isn’t working out. I just feel exhausted—“ You were cut off as Kaiser grabbed your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. “If you think you can leave me just like that, then you're fucking stupid” He pushed you down on the ground as he moved his hand to grab your hair, “I'm the only who would ever love your pathetic ass; you're worthless without me, so don't even try to leave me. Understood?”

Alexis Ness

Ness gets jealous easily. Seeing how he acts around kaiser, it’s not too far fetched to think he would act the same around his partner.

He doesn’t let you go out alone because he’s afraid that you would leave him for someone else.

Overprotective in a bad way

He gets picky over what you wear because it will attract attention and someone might ‘steal’ you from him

Will get into fights with you over kaiser

Guilt tripper pt. 2

“No. You will not go out tonight.” Ness said as he stared at you from the hallway, “Why not? I'm just gonna go out with my friend, and it's a mall ‘Lexis, It's not like I'm gonna leave you…” You explained but he ignored you and walked to the door, effectively stopping you from leaving. “Y/n… Why can’t you just listen to me!? You’re always picking someone over me, do you even love me anymore!?” Ness started crying, in shock you instinctively hugged him, as an attempt to comfort. “No wait— That’s not what I meant ‘Lexis, of course I love you. Please… don’t cry over me… I won’t leave anymore, I’ll stay.” You said as you tried to comfort Ness, you failed to notice the smirk he held.

the first time he slapped your ass you let out a noise he had no idea you could make. he started seeing the faces you would make when he would slap your ass, he just loved how you would slightly jump up and shreak.

bully!beomgyu who would brush his hand against your upper thighs during classes as you would have to slap it away when the teacher asks what’s going on! he'll call you pet names behind your ear..

bully!beomgyu who teases you by taking away something you were just randomly holding, he would put it over your head watching you jump and down, and reached to grab it.

the height difference between you two causing beomgyu quite a bit of trouble. eveytime this happened, youll take youre belonging away from him, he would eye your breasts bounce, feeling his own pants suddenly tighten.

bully!beomgyu who would drag you to any empty classroom and lift your uniform skirt up and pull your undies down, slapping your ass as it turns dark shades of red by the minute. beomgyu would have you laid down and on his lap, rubbing his thumb on your clit, just so he could feel you squirm under him as you try and get off.

bully!beomgyu who blackmails you with clips of you having him deep in your mouth, the next clip showing you bouncing on his cock on the teachers chair. he has a whole album of you two and just for personal reasons. you stare back at him with doe eyes, tears slipping out of you as you beg him not to realse those videos.

bully!beomgyu who gaslights you, “i don’t want to have to show the teacher this but if you report me, i'll have to..” he grunts while holding on your hips as you sit on his lap as he rocks your hips making you rub against his bulge as you cry into his shoulder. you just nod, hugging him tight by his torso while sobbing silently.

bully!beomgyu who likes to have you in missionary most of the time because he loved watching you lose your breath as he would ram himself inside you, ignoring your pleads. beomgyu who really likes you swallow all his cum after you suck him off, he shoves his cock back in your mouth and ramming your head back and fourth as mascara runs down your face, cause he is never done.

bully!beomgyu who eventually realizes how much you loved getting treated like a rag doll. pulling him into the staff bathroom going into a stall and lifting up your skirt, hinting him to put his cock inside you.

His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.

Bummer. 

According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun. 

His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.

“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.” 

“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty. 

Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting. 

“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.” 

There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?

“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.

With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.

“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today. 

“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.” 

“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head. 

He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him. 

“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.

“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.” 

Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves. 

“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it. 

“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”

“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.” 

The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash. 

“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.” 

You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once. 

“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?” 

“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight. 

“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers. 

The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day. 

Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word. 

Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order. 

“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking. 

“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?” 

“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?” 

You nod and head to the back of house energetically.

Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand. 

Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans. 

“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.” 

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?” 

Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side. 

He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay. 

“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence. 

“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–” 

“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?” 

Denki snorts out a laugh. 

“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage. 

“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?” 

You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face. 

The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight. 

When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you. 

And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car. 

“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off. 

“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up. 

“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on. 

Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are. 

“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.” 

And there you go — giving him another opportunity. 

“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke. 

“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?” 

Score.

“Sounds perfect.”

He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki. 

Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.

“Cute place.” 

“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.” 

Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you? 

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.” 

As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer. 

“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts. 

“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked. 

“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap. 

“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up. 

“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known. 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire. 

“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers. 

Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying. 

His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his. 

Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him. 

“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you. 

You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control. 

He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours. 

“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray. 

Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.

“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.” 

His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—

Ding dong!

The pizza has arrived. 

“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table. 

“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?” 

“I was hoping for a different meal.” 

His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more. 

Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple. 

“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off. 

There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.

You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.

“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.” 

Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole. 

Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth. 

You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes. 

“F-fuuck… Denki, please...” 

Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him. 

At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs. 

Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit. 

It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down. 

One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first. 

Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face. 

You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him. 

Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs. 

Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds. 

You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind. 

“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes. 

You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock. 

Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp. 

“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look. 

Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure. 

God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.

“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.” 

Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.

Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.  

Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.” 

After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions. 

“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?” 

Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down. 

“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…” 

He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?” 

“See you then.” 

Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath. 

Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”. 

“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.” 

“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?” 

“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.