#tw.pseudocest

How did anyone with ill intent even get past the front gates and far enough down the hall not to be noticed? In such a busy building, it’d be near impossible to slip in and out undetected. And then there’s the more important question. Why?

As far as the counts have been able to confirm, no one is missing, everyone’s vital instruments have been accounted for. None of the Givers or the Supporters seem to have lost any other items either, though that’s obviously harder to confirm. You don’t go to sleep counting every piece of clothing, paper document or souvenir in your possession. Among the worried fretting of well-meaning coworkers, you’re slumped on the couch with your hands pressed over your ears like you’re physically trying to drown out the noise.

Your head falls back against the couch. Zanka’s draped onto your side like he’s trying to use his body to shield you, one arm wrapped around your back to squeeze your shoulder, and the free hand petting your temple with soft swipes off his thumb. “How’re ya feelin’?”

You let out a long sigh, too long, before nudging your face into his throat. The warmth of him isn’t doing much to soothe your headache, but it’s helpful in other ways. “Tired,” you mumble, letting the fresh scent of his soap fill your senses. “I’m angry. And worried. And I don’t get any of it.”

His face brushes against your hair as he hums in agreement, pulls you a bit closer still. He doesn’t have to say it. By the way he sways you back and forth against him, it’s obvious he’s trying. Ignoring the steady peak of discomfort that’s kept goosebumps on your neck for the last hour. He nuzzles you to his heart’s content, and you don’t mind the display a second. “I agree with ‘ya, baby. I am too.” You want sleep. It’s early, and your head is starting to throb harder by the minute. You can feel the dark circles pull under your eyes.

“We’ve checked every room twice over,” Gris’ deep voice meets the pair of you as he walks up, squatting before you to give an empathetic, worried smile. “I know it’s not much, but at the very least, you don’t have to worry about anyone hiding out anywhere.” He pats a large hand on your knee, then squeezes it. “How is she?” He asks Zanka.

“Tired. Hm, baby?” You are.

You don’t even fight the way your head drops against Zanka’s chest when he shifts to give you more room, your eyes fluttering closed. You make a vague noise of agreement, and let him situate you until you’re in his lap. The ache shifts and instinctively, you brace yourself. On the back of your eyelids the image plays like a projection in your mind.

A crouched, heavy shape lingering above your face as you shot awake in the darkness of your room. Into consciousness, letting out a panicked scream as the person bolted down the hall.

You still feel the sweat on your waxy skin at the image, the sheer terror. Gris gets onto the couch with the both of you and makes you lean off kilter. “Some rooms have been turned upside down, but yours was definitely ravaged the worst.”

“This kinda stuff is why I asked ‘ta room with ‘er before this,” Zanka says in exasperation, talking through your hair at the people around. “It’s not safe.”

It’s with a soft pat on your head that the other mentor makes his presence known. He shifts the weight of his hand from your head to Zanka’s, where he ruffles the younger man’s hair too. Enjin lets out a noise of deep thought, before also shoving himself into the couch in between you and Gris. He leans past you to playfully poke a finger into his kouhai’s chest. “Zanka, you get that we can’t just let every couple room together. S’ Corvus’ rules, kiddo.” When the brunet sighs, Enjin leans back to give you some space. “This is a place of employment at the end of the day.”

Before you can even think about it, you absentmindedly frown, and tangle your fingers with Zanka’s. “We wouldn’t be doing anything with everyone else around…” Enjin makes an unbelieving face at your statement, but you can’t be bothered to rephrase it.

If Zanka was with you, you wouldn’t have been so scared. If he was in your bed with you, you know the intruder wouldn’t have felt so comfortable staring at you while you were sleeping for however long he did. Your hairs are still standing on end, you notice. From beside you, Zanka’s fingers dig a bit deeper into your skin and settle under the edge of your shirt to keep petting you- much like a stray cat.

After a few moments of needed silence, Enjin turns his whole body to face you. His fingers slip under your chin where he forces your face up into his view and your lashes flutter.

He scans your face, your bags, smudged eyeliner from the night before. Turns you here and there for his fretting, treating you like a toddler. If it were anyone else, you’d smack them off of you— but it’s Enjin. The Enjin who brought you here without any questions or strings attached. He saved your life from that rotting dump you used to call home; and would lay his own safety down for any of you. So you dutifully let him take his time studying you, even as your eyes wander past him to the room.

Zanka’s thumbing stops, but he doesn’t say anything either. When Enjin lets you go, he nods to himself. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“No.” You melt back into your boyfriend’s side and he wraps his other arm back around your waist to pull you in.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be, huh. Gris, Corvus, Bro and I are all here on watch.” He smiles wide, dimples showing as he pets your crown again. “You’ve got so many big, strong men here to watch out for you.” He nods. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“Tch.” Zanka can’t take it any more, and pushes his tattooed hand off to pull you fully on top of his body, basically flattening you to his chest. “That’s fine and all, but stop touching my girlfriend. An’ I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to ‘er.”

+

Zanka’s not been able to keep his hands off of you since that morning, be it out of worry or a renewed need to prove he’s man enough to protect you on his own. It’s basically a miracle that he can drag himself off you for long enough to press a kiss to your forehead and walk up the stairs alone. Doesn’t mean you don’t miss it as soon as it goes, though. “It won’t take long, I’ll be back soon.”

“It’s okay, take your time.” 

“I love ya’,” he whispers before heading up the stairs to his old family home two at a time, waving as he disappears. Considering the relationship he has with his family already, it’s for the better that you aren’t dragged inside their pristine halls. Some past raider girl they picked off of the street. It would only subject you to mean glares that you’re not sure you have the fortitude to withstand right now.

When you stuff your hands deep in your pockets and turn back towards the jeep, Enjin -who offered himself up a willing victim to drive- waves you over. He’s leaning against the vehicle too casually, taking the cigarette he just lit from between his lips and holding it out to you instead. You accept. Can’t knock the habit… because of Enjin. He puts a new one for himself, and blows a perfect circle of smoke into the distance. “You should try to stop. ‘S a bad habit, kiddo.”

“You’re real funny, Enjin.”

He snorts. You aren’t really listening. Your eyes flick from the foreign scenery, to the slight remnants of snow still remaining on the sidewalks, the clean air and pristine streets of Kamutari. It’s been days, but the image haunts the spaces between conversations. But there’s nothing left to say, no resolution. You can only sit and suffer.

Though it does you no good, you convince yourself you saw more than you did. Recognized something in the shadow. The sense of familiarity eats at you more than the fear.

You didn’t know them. You don’t know anyone who’d do something like that. Zanka agrees.

“...Why did you bring me to the cleaners, back then?”

Enjin looks down his shoulder at you where you come to rest your butt against the cold metal too. The cigarette burns red hot at the tip as smoke fills your lungs, and you stare at the gravel under your shoes. “You could’ve gotten rid of me. Could’ve sent me back to the raiders, or gave me over to one of those men who pay for girls in the East Ward. It would’ve been a lot easier for you.”

He thinks for a moment, then chuckles. You’re not sure what he’s laughing at. You, the situation, or himself. “You’re thankful I didn’t, right? You got right on getting Zanka wrapped around your little finger as soon as you arrived. B’sides, I know you’re as crazy about him as he is you.” He chuckles again, blowing some of the ash from his fingers. “It’s my big saviour complex.”

Your lashes flutter against the cold wind. Enjin’s so good at setting you at ease by saying absolutely nothing. He has a stunning ability to twist the truth of a situation. Considering everything, the break in was most likely because of who you are. Which means you’re putting everyone in danger, which means Corvus should kick you out onto the street if he knows what’s good for him. 

“What’s going on with you?” He questions softer, letting waves of smoke slip through his lips. He’s probably right. What a bad habit. Your mentor stares at the side of your face for long enough to draw out goosebumps on your skin.

Because you don’t find the words you need to explain what you’re feeling, you simply push your hand deeper into your jacket pocket. Enjin clicks his tongue. “Fine, whole truths then… I took you with me ‘cause I wanted to keep you. That’s all. I would’ve done it even if we weren’t strapped for givers. Stuffed you under my mattress or something. That’s not what you wanna hear, right?”

He taps the ash out onto the side of the jeep, and leans into your space ‘til you’re nose to nose.

His breath tingles your cheeks, and long, dark lashes make his golden eyes even more striking. “I’m selfish like that. You needed protecting, and I needed someone to protect… I like ‘ya.” Without any warning, no second blink or twitch or reason — he leans down to slot his mouth over yours, hot, soft lips pressing into yours. He makes you crane your neck up as he wraps two arms around your waist and picks you up from the floor too easily, still kissing you deeper. The cig falls out of your fingers onto the floor, before he puts you back down onto wobbly legs.

Your eyes stay wide open, lightheaded.

Your mouth gapes like a dead fish as your head spins. What just happened. He pulls you into his side under his arm, and moves on with another drag of his own cigarette. “Get closer, you’re freezing. C’mere. Zanka better be hurrying up, huh? His precious little girlfriend’s waiting, freezing her ass off.” The scent of him fills your lungs through the smoke where you’re pressed to his ribs, shoulders up high, and try to shake yourself out of the shock.

Don’t freak.

Don’t make it weird, don’t say anything - your mind begs.

You can’t lose this. It was basically a peck. Enjin’s always treated you like family. He looks after you like you’re an overgrown toddler.

You won’t make it weird.

+

On the drive back, you worm your fingers between Zanka’s while he’s halfway lulled to sleep. His steady breathing halts as he cracks an eye open at you, just one, as you lay yourself against his chest. Feel the way his chest rises and falls against your cheek. He buries his nose into your hair. “Anxious to get back home? This was a really long trip, I’m sorry for draggin’ ya along.” He lets out a thoughtful noise when you don’t respond.

“Still cold?”

“Who said that, Enjin?” You ask. Same Enjin who’s yawning and flicking through radio stations in the front seat, attempting to watch the road.

“Mhm.”

“I’m cold, Zanka.” You’re not sure if it's the temperature as much as it is the icy shivers running down your spine though. It leads you to cling to him a bit harder, fist your free hand into his jacket, as you nuzzle closer. Pant hot breaths against his skin and feel how your boyfriend’s body tenses. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Hm?” Your lips settle over his pulse, and you lay a few kisses there for good measure. “I love you.”

His one open eye becomes two, and he glances at Enjin through the rearview mirror quickly. “... Fu—ck, baby. You wan’ ta?” His hands detach from you to wrap around your thighs instead, as he hikes you higher up on his lap. “You wan’ me to let you sleep in my bed, hm? It’s been a while, y’sure?” So selfless. Always so thoughtful of what you need, first. Your hands go to his collar, one you unzip a bit to get more room to his throat, and put your mouth there as you nod. He lets out a deep breath, and nestles himself a bit further back into the car seat, letting his head drop back.

When your face is by his mouth, he leans in to kiss you. Softly, at first. Then his mouth presses harder, and he dips his tongue between your lips for a moment before gathering your hair into a ponytail in his fist, and humming. “Pretend to sleep by the time we get back,” his hips move under you to get a more comfortable angle, and his body length is pressed against you. It’s also not the only thing you can feel press against you. He softly groans, glances over your shoulder again at the driver, then pulls you in again to lay another needy kiss on your mouth. “I’ll carry you to the room, and… figure somethin’ out. Give ya whatever ya need, baby.”

+

The drive back is long enough for Zanka’s distracted petting and touching to actually put you to sleep when you close your eyes. Evidently, you only notice this when you’re awoken halfway to the room, carried bridal style through the empty halls of headquarters, and squeeze your eyes back closed. You snuggle into his ribs and hum into the touch, and he lets out a chuckle through his nose.

You feel him shift you to open the door, lets it fall closed behind him and then deposits you in the bed. When you land, you can’t help but giggle. Because of the situation of your co-housing, you don’t get nearly as much private time together as you’d like. You can’t help being all giddy now. Your cheeks feel hot, and your body’s tingling. He locks the door with a swift click. Your face is still pressed into his pillow as you splay out onto the soft bedding of Zanka’s mattress and roll onto your side in the dark. “I’m sorry I really fell asleep. It’s sexy when you carry me around, though.”

“Uhuh?”

Wait. Your eyes open—

—as large hands press your wrists to the bedding and an awfully heavy body pins you down to the bed by kneeling over your legs. Immediately, pain radiates up your limbs and your eyes pull open wide. Even though your eyes are still adjusting to the dark, the shape above you is much, much too built to be Zanka. Your heart starts rattling in your ribcage, and you open your mouth to scream, but Enjin shuts you up by kissing you.

Through the dark, you know the scent, and see his blonde lashes as they basically sweep along yours while his tongue invades your mouth. That slightly musky, woody scent, of ash and soap and coconut shampoo. You make noises and struggle hard against him, but it’s really no competition. He’s not even straining to keep you in place, only pulls back to lick his lips and pant into your face. “Shhh, shhhh, quiet. We don’t wanna wake people.”

“Get the hell off of me, Enjin- p-please, why are you here?! Zanka’s gonna come, and-” Your stressed whispering catches in your throat as tears overtake your breathing, and a pitiful squeak sounds from your throat though you don’t want it to. He squeezes your wrists tighter, but hums in agreement.

A mocking, patronizing soft hum that an exasperated parent gives their fussy child. You start worming and trying to kick just because of it, and strain against his strength to escape. Without result. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself. Aw, babygirl…” Something about the way he says it makes you so angry, thick tears start bubbling up and dropping into your boyfriend’s pillow the instant he opens his mouth again. “What are you so mad about? Ya don’t need to cry, it’s okay.”

“Let go, Enjin. You’re crossing the line.”

“Am I?” His look turns devious in the dark, staring you down with so much amusement it’s sickening. He shouldn’t be taking this much pleasure in toying with you. If this is his sick version of a joke, it’s not fucking funny. Your vision clears through the watery blinking. His big, tattooed body’s weight presses into you and forces you into the slats of the bed. He leans in close enough to be nose to nose, and his slight, lovestruck smile is creating a dimple in his cheek.

“You like being Zanka’s girl? You never wanna hurt him, right?” His mouth moves to your ear, and you can taste the smoke on his breath. “I really think you guys are too cute, y’know.”

You should scream, but the right words stick in your throat. When his warm lips slide along your cheek and wind down your throat to take more than he should, you shiver, and the grip around your wrists loosens. “S-stop messing around, Enjin. It’s not funny.”

“I want to hear you say it. Can you? Say, ‘I love my boyfriend’.” This can’t be- real. He’s your protector. The one who pulled you out of the mud and lifted you into his arms with so much confidence that you were certain nothing would ever happen to you again. That no one would ever take that spot of your shadow again. Oppressive and needy and always there. Dark and aching, but familiar. Oh.

The familiar feeling you felt — Your thoughts stop halfway through thinking it, as thick tears start rolling down your cheeks. You can’t. This can’t be happening for real. “I love, hck- love my boyfriend,” you parrot.

You don’t know why. You want to grab him by his stupid head of hair and pull until he bleeds, for doing this to you. Ruining everything. But you can’t. Your useless limbs refuse to move, as if the fear has frozen them solid. “Enjin,” you sputter instead, through tears, “I love my boyfriend. Please.” As his touch takes over you, a knee shoved between your thighs, his wandering lips sliding down your chest and nipping at your skin, there’s a weirdly distant feeling that takes over.

“I know you do, poor thing. I know.” Enjin doesn’t stop praising you. “I knew you’d cry. Scared ‘ya, didn’t I.” One hand is enough to start fiddling with your shirt and pulling it down enough to expose you to the cold, cupping your tits through your bra— one too comfortable and too flimsy to stop you from feeling exactly how his fingers slide over your nipples before he slips hands under that too. “You’re so pretty, baby love. Talk to me.” Your chest rises and falls against his groping hands. They pinch and make you squirm despite yourself. Then your pants get pulled down along with your underwear, and Enjin shifts fully off the bed to admire his work. “Fucking shit, you’re so cute. Got such a pretty, little cunt— I mean, I knew you would, but still…” 

He kneels by your side to place his chin onto your thigh and press a few kisses there, before he runs those thick, hot fingers over your pussy and pushes into your slit. His fingers are thick enough that the intrusion aches the first time, and Enjin grins when you wince at the sting. “So damn cute. Zanka’s so lucky, ain’t he. Ain’t he?”

“I want- Zanka,” you sob to no one, like the universe will hear.

At least he’s kind enough to spit before sliding in a second finger, and moving your legs aside more to make room for his hand. “Mhm, I know.” His other one lifts your arms to his neck, where he moves to hang over you again. “I hear you, baby.” Those long lashes basically brush yours when he dips to kiss your nose, then your mouth again. Your lips crack open against his mouth because of the way he slides his fingers so deep, so much deeper than you’re used to— and it fucking hurts. Bad. 

But the heat that overtakes your body feels good too, and you pant and cry against him. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna hurt you too badly. It’s not like I hold a grudge or anything. But Zanka doesn’t know how to share, so he really leaves me no choice.” He slides his fingers in and out until you’re winding yourself up to a peak, and a wet clicking noise starts to ring out.

“No, no, no~ stop,” your tears flood your face with embarrassment, hot, pure mortification. “Please stop.”

Like he knows you won’t fight him, Enjin hums into your mouth before kissing you again. Deeply, sucking your tongue and mixing spit with yours. His three fingers slide in and out as his thumb presses your clit, and you have to squeeze your eyes closed to keep yourself from moaning. You don’t want it to, but it feels good. Better than you could ever admit to yourself. He tongues you until you’re left a whimpering mess below him, full of his fingers and spit— and Enjin can’t help but gleefully grin at the sight. “That feel good? Hm?”

You shake your head left and right as hard as you can, but your cheeks are glowing. Your body’s betraying you. You hate it. You want to say you hate him for doing this to you— so why can’t you? The blond must know you’re lying because he pulls his fingers from between your legs, and slips them into his mouth with a mean, loud smack. He sticks his tongue out to lick his lips too, making a show out of your shame. You manage to pull your legs closed when he leaves the space to stand beside the bed, but that’s all you can do.

That, and watch as he regards you with a glint in his eye. Walks over to the bathroom, and lifts his hand to the doorknob. “You’re such a sweet girlfriend, ain’t ‘ya.” Your heart falls all the way through your body to your toes. Stomach tied in a knot— as Enjin pushes open the door. And in the dim light, reveals another familiar figure. You haven’t stopped crying, but it starts with a renewed vigor as he pulls him by his collar and tosses your boyfriend onto the floor. His arms and legs bound with so many ropes it must be painful.

“Zanka!” You forget your nudity to tumble off of the bed and get beside him, and your lashes flutter a million times in an attempt to get a clear view of his face. You can’t keep eye contact with him, but start by pulling off the tape over his mouth. “I am— I-”

You’re unable to get the words out. You’re still exposed, your pussy wet and glistening, as you collapse against him where he’s propped up against the bed. And maybe it’s delusion, but you trick yourself into thinking that the wide-eyed, mortified look on his face isn’t pure disgust at you. “Zanka… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- I love you.” He shakes his head, and mumbles something back through the gag that sounds vaguely like a reply.

Before you get the change to finish unpacking him from his cage, Enjin’s back to finish you off entirely.

“You guys are so fucking sweet.” Enjin places his large hands under your shirt to slip it over your head, and pulls your body back into him where he kneels behind you. You’re not sure when his shirt got tossed, but your cold skin gets warmed by hot, tattooed touch. “You like my present for you? See, I’m not that bad, right?” He pulls you up by your thighs until you’re up in his lap, and hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Got a good view, Zanka?” 

It’s unfair, how he pulls your legs to your chest to expose you. How his spit and fingers left your pussy a drooling, sad mess and your face is already flushed and marred with too many tears to count. They’ve dried and run down your nose and chin, and they’re shimmering on your chest now. Enjin’s deep voice blows past your shoulder with a chuckle, as he worms one hand back between your wet lips to swipe the slick up to your clit. “Gonna borrow your girlfriend for a little while. That’s alright by you, isn’t it?” Though Zanka’s eyes are wild and unfocused as he starts angrily jerking around, you can’t help but notice that he’s flushed like you are. And— “I’ve seen how you look at us, Zanka-chan. No need to lie.”

He grinds his cock against you from behind as your pussy clenches around nothing, clit tingling until it hurts to even be touches by the dry air; and Enjin clicks his tongue. “Your boyfriend’s a pervert. He likes seeing another man play with you.” Your eyes widen, as the blond lifts you and places you gentle as ever into Zanka’s covered lap instead, letting you feel the coarse fabric of his Cleaner’s uniform. Zanka’s muffled voice comes out, and you try to shift against him. But you can’t ignore the feeling. He’s hard. Zanka’s cock presses against you as he gets red in the face and squeezes his eyes closed, and you can feel just how hard he is through the layer of protection.

His head is back against the mattress as silvery tears start pooling at the corners of his eyes. You can’t help it, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your mouth over where his mouth would be if he wasn’t gagged. Your voice catches in your throat, but you force it out, however tiny and squeezed it comes. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I love you the way- you are.” When you hug your poor boyfriend tighter, Enjin takes the moment to yank your ass back until you’re in line with his hips, and he pushes the already ruined boxers down to let his cock push up against you.

Against your stupid fucking pussy that flutters too eagerly at the touch. “See, we all have a nasty little secret. Zanka likes seeing his girlfriend get used, you like getting forced down onto someone else’s cock—” He presses his chest against your back to press his lips over your ear. His fingers force the spongy head of his cock into your cunt, making it squeeze and flutter against him as your cheek brushes Zanka’s. And the blond lets out a deep sigh. “And I’ve been wanting to rape your little cunt since I got ‘ya.”

"dad! dad, daddy!"

with no time to hesitate, toji rushes inside your room (which you conveniently forgot to lock) and is blinded by your naked body.

he thought you were in danger :(

because the music was playing loudly, you didn't even notice he came into your room :( you still had your blindfold on and your dildo perfectly sliding in and out of you while you rubbed your clit with your other hand.

"yes, daddy harder!" your thumb hit a button to make your dildo vibrate even faster inside you.

toji should've left. the second he saw you naked and weren't actually calling for him, he should have bolted. but the sight of you, all naked and pretty, pussy slick and wet (for him?) was beautiful. he instantly got hard.

the right and moral thing to do would be to leave, go back to ANY other room and forget this ever happened.

but toji isn't a moral man. he literally kills people for money for a living. what's the matter with jerking off to his pretty little stepdaughter?

with that debate settled, toji pulls out his hardening length out of his pants. he hovers at the edge of your bed, loving this show you're putting on for him.

"more daddy! more, more, more," you softly moaned to yourself, picking up the pace thrusting your dildo inside you.

toji spit in his hand and gripped his cock, matching your pace. you steadily went faster and faster, continuing to voice the cutest moans toji has ever heard.

it wasn't until you both started to get close that you said something that surprised you both.

"t-toji!" you shouted. your stepdad groaned at the sound of his name on your lips. at first he thought your 'daddy' nickname could've been fantasizing anyone, now he was certain you were thinking about him.

it didn't take much longer for you both to reach your peaks.

your legs tremble, imagining the monster that would be your step dad's cock inside of you instead of your toy. you turn up the dildo's vibration even more and not even ten seconds later, you're cumming all over it. :( "toojiiiiii!"

much to your surprise, the sight of you cumming is just what toji needed to finish. toji throws his head back when you moan his name again, fisting his cock rapidly at the sight of you. with a few violent pumps, he gets his euphoric release, sending his cum straight towards you! "fffuck," he groans.

it happened all so fast — like one of his assassin missions. one moment, your masterbating with your music blasting and your blindfold on, the next your chest is being sprayed with scalding hot cum.

it was like a fucking shower. rope after rope of hot cum suddenly sprayed you like a rogue out of control garden hose.

you tore your blindfold off and came face to dick with your stepdad.

your mouth was so dry from your earlier singing and moans that you couldn't scream. you just sit there horrified in shock, staring at your stepdad.

"don't act like you didn't want this," toji casually shrugs. "i heard you calling my name babygirl." you want to pull the covers over you to die from embarrassment. "next time you need your car fixed, i think you know how you can repay me."

with that, toji pulls his pants and boxers back on and heads toward the shower.

you're still sitting on your bed, in utter disbelief at what just happened. maybe you should leave your door unlocked more often?

masterlist

a/n: uhh sorry this was late. im trying to write more when i get motivation but it's been hard lately :(

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck it.”

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

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

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

“ride me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“c-caleb, plea—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There you were: straddling the big leopard plush he’d given you, his spoiled little darling. Your white nightie was tossed somewhere on the sheets, hair mussed and cheeks blotchy from crying. Even from the grainy lens hidden behind Little Xia’s glossy plastic eyes—so smooth they almost passed for glass, but really just clever little cameras—he could see the tears clinging to your lashes, the way you mouthed something small and broken into the plushie’s fur.

Caleb’s breath caught in his chest.

“Oh, sweet girl…” he whispered to no one, voice thick, pupils blown wide.

You were whispering to Little Xia, his gift, his stand-in. Maybe scolding it. Maybe begging it to tell you when Gege would come home. God, that made his cock twitch painfully against his zipper. You looked so soft like this, so needy, so fucking precious even when you were falling apart. Especially then.

The guilt only made it sweeter. The messy swirl of shame and desire was painted across your trembling body.

Poor little thing. Couldn’t help yourself, even though Gege hadn’t given you permission. Even though he never told you when he’d be back, because you didn’t need to know. You only needed to wait.

Then you pushed your frilly shorts down, revealing damp cotton clinging to your slick cunt, and Caleb’s mouth went dry. You started rocking against the plushie, slow and clumsy, tears spilling hot and silent down your flushed cheeks.

Fuck. Look at you, sweetheart.

He undid his belt with one hand, the other tightening on the edge of the desk until his knuckles whitened. His cock was already leaking, painfully hard in his palm as he watched his precious girl rut helplessly, smearing wetness all over Little Xia’s soft belly.

Then you whimpered, frustration clouding your pretty face when it wasn’t enough.

Good girl, don’t give up.

He whispered it to the screen, even though you couldn’t hear. Even though you didn’t know Gege was watching, because Gege always watched. That was the point of Little Xia, wasn’t it? To keep you company and to keep you his.

And then you did it: cupped those soft tits, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples, desperate little pants catching in your throat. Still not enough. Caleb’s pulse hammered in his ears as you reached for the pink vibrator, propped it against the plushie, and pressed it to your needy clit.

He nearly groaned out loud.

That’s it, baby. Show Gege how badly you need it.

His hand worked his cock, hard and slow, precum spilling warm over his knuckles. Every shaky breath you took, every clench of your thighs, every tear trailing down your flushed cheeks—it all fed the twisted heat coiling in his gut. Even sobbing, lashes wet and clumped from crying, you kept moving, chasing it because you couldn’t stop. Because even after Gege left, you still needed him.

Your bitten lip, the muffled whimper of “Gege…” against the plush fur—it nearly undid him.

“Such a good girl,” he rasped under his breath, voice hoarse and low. “Gege’s so fucking proud of you…”

And when your legs finally trembled, back arching as you came—still crying, still clutching Little Xia like it was the only thing keeping you from breaking—Caleb’s vision went white at the edges. His orgasm ripped through him, spilling hot and messy into his hand, pulse pounding like thunder in his skull.

It was the hardest he’d come in weeks.

God, he’d treat you so well when he gets home. 

—

Ran’s arm is slung over her waist as he lies on his stomach, blanket resting half way down both of their chests. Rindou isn’t on either side of them. If he’s gone, it’s her best chance to leave this situation. She tries not to think about the fact that first person she’s ever had sex with isn’t one…but two criminals who are brothers. Virginity is a concept but it’s still a strange realization to have.

Her parents would be so disappointed.

The thought is enough to make her move. Reika slides out from under Ran’s arm slowly. He groans, reaching for the loss of warmth, but he settles back quickly. It takes longer than she likes to get up, to search across the room for her clothes. Her shirt isn’t to be found. Her underwear is ripped. She’s forced to use one of their shirts and go commando.

She walks out of the bedroom slowly. The room is dark, the black out curtains live up to their name and she stumbles more than a few times before she gets out into the hallway. The light is nearly blinding.

Reika still doesn’t know where her bag or phone are, but it’s fine. She’s already prepared to walk without her things as long as she gets out of here. She can get a new phone, a new bag, a new everything to go with everything else she lost in her room.

She makes it to the the washroom which was a growing necessity before finding her way to the same living room where it all started. It looks like a disaster. She can see her shirt crumpled on the floor from where it was thrown. The remnants of a night that started unwanted and yet coerced into…

“Thought you’d sleep longer.”

Reika nearly jumps out of her skin at the voice breaking the silence. “You’re here.”

Rindou looks up at her, unimpressed from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and not much else aside from the glasses that look as if they’re about to slide down his nose. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

“Tch,” he pushes himself off of the counter and moves towards her. Reika steps back towards the door. “You forget? You are home.”

“I don’t live here.”

He shrugs as he looks around. “You will. We’ll make room.”

“I have a house.”

He gives her a look, over the glasses he’s wearing. “You want us living there?”

“I don’t even want you visiting,” Reika snaps, wincing slightly at the sound. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, baby, you’re just stubborn. Don’t make me wake up Ran. He’s a fucking menace without enough sleep.”

“I need to go home.”

“Then I’ll go with you. Wait right fucking there.” He points at her where she’s standing. “You move and you won’t like the consequences.”

“Where’s my phone?” she asks before he gets to the hall towards the bedroom.

“With your shit by the door.”

Reika moves without thinking, looking and finding her bag that she had dropped on the floor after finding the mess of her room. It takes a few moments before she manages to find her phone in the chaos of everything that’s in it. It has about ten percent of battery left and her screen is filled with notifications of messages and missed calls.

She messages Kikyo first.

A quick note telling her that she’s with the brothers, they’re not letting her go alone but she’s going to head home. That her sister did something unforgivable but that she’ll contact her later. That she’s okay.

The next was a text to Kanae that simply says “I failed.”

“If we’re going out, we’re getting breakfast.”

Reika turns, looking back to see Ran yawning and running a hand through his hair as he scratches his stomach. “You’re awake.”

He smiles, slow and soft as if he’s not one of the people keeping her here because of the threats they’ve made, explicit and otherwise. “Earlier than I like to be up, sweetheart. You sure I can’t get you back to bed?”

Reika takes another step back towards the door.

Ran sighs before yawning again. “Let me get ready. You should wash up too.”

“I’ll shower at home.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s going to say the exact thing that Rindou did.

“Already told her.” Rindou says as he steps out of the bedroom. “You coming with us?”

“Yeah, go get breakfast. I’ll be ready by the time you get back.” He looks at Reika again. “You sure you don’t wanna get cleaned up with me? Rin will bring food.”

“I’d rather go home now.” Ran’s expression darkens at her response.

“Come on, baby,” Rindou moves towards her and wraps an arm around her waist. “Let’s get coffee. Nii-chan will be in a better mood when we get back and he’s less sleep deprived.”

“I don’t want coffee. I want to go home!”

Rindou’s grip tightens on her waist before he suddenly turns and grips her jaw, fingers digging into her cheeks. Her heart hammers in her chest as her eyes widen in fear. She keeps forgetting.

“We’re giving you a lot of grace, baby. Stop fucking around or that’s gonna stop. You want it to stop?”

Tears build up in her eyes and Reika tries to shake her head. “N-no.”

“Thought so. So stop being an ungrateful bitch and play nice.”

“Rin,” Ran’s voice cuts through the moment, his tone like steel.

Rindou lets go of her with just enough force to make her stumble back. “She needs to learn.”

“She will.” Ran runs a hand through his hair, looking less than impressed and suddenly more tired than he did before. “Our sweetheart, our darling fucking imouto is going to accept her place with us. One way or another.”

🎨

She’s made to sit in the back of the car with Ran after everything is said and done. Rindou got breakfast and Reika was forced into the shower with Ran. He treated it as if he was spoiling her, washing her hair and leading her through his skin care regime, acting like he wasn’t holding her hostage with his threats.

She’s dressed in their clothes, ignoring how Ran is already looking up designer clothes and commenting on what he thinks will look good on her. Instead, she focuses on responding to Kikyo and Kanae in a group chat that she starts in order to tell them everything that’s happening.

It takes both Kanae and Reika to convince Kikyo not to show up at Reika’s home. She won’t have anything happen to her best friend.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Ran murmurs to her as the car comes to a stop. His hand slowly retreats from her thigh. “We’re here.”

Reika follows slowly, not taking the offered hand as she slips out of the car behind him. She hears Ran chuckle to himself before he wraps an arm over her shoulder and tug her closer to him. She doesn’t try to pull away.

Rindou soon covers her other side and the two of them lead her towards her house. “Nervous?” he teases softly.

“Yes,” Reika admits because she has no reason to lie. She hopes Seira isn’t here. Even after everything, Reika doesn’t want her sister to get hurt by these men. Even if this is all her fault.

“Don’t be. I told you, we’re gonna take care of you and deal with this shit. Your ours now.”

“I don’t want to be.”

“We didn’t ask,” Rindou ends the growing tension. They move just enough so she can open the door. Rindou walks in first, then Reika and Ran who closes the door behind them.

“Stay quiet for a minute,” Ran murmurs in her ear before he moves, blocking her from the rest of the house. He calls out. “Seira?”

Rindou grins as he shifts to prevent Reika from being seen by anyone who might be home.

“Seira?” Ran calls out again. “Your door was unlocked.”

There’s a thunderous sound of footsteps coming down the stairs until Reika can hear her sister trying not to pant as she slides in to the foyer. “Ran!” She sounds upbeat and not at all concerned about where Reika’s been. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you.”

Reika is about to argue, to tell Seira to run, but Rindou squeezes her hand in warning. She knows it’s a threat. She hates the way she falls silent, clenching her eyes shut as she silently prays that they get out of this alive.

“Really?” the hope in Seira’s voice makes Reika’s throat tighten. She tries to move, to tug her hand free so she can warn her sister. Rindou lets go, but reaches around her and covers her mouth with his hand, still keeping her hidden behind Ran. He almost makes the move look effortless and tears build in Reika’s eyes as she’s unable to make a sound. How does Seira not see her?

“When’d you cut your hair?”

“The other day,” she hears Seira say. “I liked how it looked on Reika and if she can pull it off, I can do it better.”

Ran laughs. It sounds cold. “Better than our Rei?”

“Your Rei?” Seira asks. Reika’s not sure if the incredulousness in her tone is the disbelief that they’re claiming her when she’s her twin, or because they’re not claiming Seira.

“Your attempts at creating a subpar imitation of her might be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. What do you think Rin?”

“She could only dream of nearing our girl’s quality. That why you trashed her shit? Can’t stand the jealousy?”

“Excu—” Seira cuts herself off. “You know what? This isn’t worth it. Get the fuck out of my house!”

Ran’s hand snaps forward, backhanding Seira across the face. Reika’s heart feels like it stops as she hears her sister fall. She grabs the back of Ran’s shirt, trying to keep him in place, keep him from hurting Seira anymore.

“Your house?” Ran kneels, pulling his shirt from her grasp and revealing her. Rindou still has his hand over her mouth and Seira’s eyes go wide at the sight of her. “Your in our sister’s house. It’s in her name, isn’t it? Did you try to steal that from her too?”

“What?”

“Don’t play coy,” Rindou glares down at her. “You tried to take her money. You destroyed our girl’s shit. Our shit. What’s hers is ours.”

Reika moves, trying to pull Rindou’s hand away from her mouth but his grip tightens until it feels like it’s going to leave bruises on her cheeks. “Stop!” she tries to say but it’s muffled.

Rindou moves, pulling her back into his chest. He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Shhh, baby. Let us do this.” He presses his lips against her neck. “It’ll be over soon. Unless you want us to…make her pay.”

Reika shakes her head. She doesn’t want that. Not for Seira, not for anyone.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do,” Ran says, reaching out to tilt Seira’s face up to look at him. “The next moment you step foot in one of our clubs, you loose a tooth, then a finger, than a hand…”

Seira starts crying and Reika knows that her sister has finally clued into exactly what type of men these Haitanis are. “Yo-you don’t mean that! You—Rei!”

“Don’t fucking look at her,” Ran yanks Seira by the hair, forcing her gaze back.

“She’s my sister!” Seira has always been possessive of her things, but usually that didn’t include Reika. Not like this.

“She’s ours now.”

Ran casts a glance back and grins at Rindou before he turns back to Seira. “You try to take anything of hers again and I’ll give you to a friend of mine. You think I’m being cruel? You haven’t seen anything like what he’s capable of.” He pushes himself up to his feet, letting go of her. “The only reason we don’t kick you into the street is because we know it’ll break our Reika’s heart, so you can live here and Rin’s gonna check in. Make sure all of her stuff is here. In one piece.”

Rindou finally lets go of her and Reika gasps for air, trying not to cry. “Go get your stuff, baby.” He pushes her towards the stairs.

She stumbles, catching herself before moving quickly as Ran moves after her. Rindou stays by the door, by her sister that she tries to move towards but Ran directs her forward.

It feels like a fever dream as she’s led upstairs. Her mind is focused on what could be happening with Seira downstairs, alone with Rindou. She can barely hear Ran looking over her toiletries as they stop by the bathroom.

“We’ll buy you better. This shit is cheap. I think I smelt something similar in the brand I like. I’ll show you.”

She walks away as he keeps talking, barely pausing as she enters her room. The stuff is still broken. It cracks under her feet and her breath hitches as she moves. Ran’s voice gets louder as he follows her and she moves without thinking.

Reika picks up a ribbon, trying to swallow back a broken sob as she picks her favourite sweater from the end of her bed. There’s paint on it. She doesn’t know if she can get it out but she’ll try. She has to try.

Ran falls silent as he watches her collect scraps from the floor and her closet. She shifts the desk forward, reaching behind it to pull out a couple of canvases. Another move and she pulls out a pallet and case from a drawer. When her arms are finally full, she faces him. Tears streak down her cheeks as she looks at him.

“Are you ever gonna let me come back?”

“Outside of the house, you won’t have any need to come back. We’ll give you everything you want.”

“I want to stay here, in my home.”

Ran gives her a look, tilting his head slightly. His gaze darkens. “Repeat that.”

It’s a threat. Another warning.

Reika’s chest shakes as she tries to breathe and not sob. She takes a deep breath. Then another. And another. It feels like the world is collapsing around her.

“Shhh,” Ran curls an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. “Just listen, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to her hair. “Just be good for us and we’ll be good to you, okay? Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

She doesn’t want to cry into his chest, but every breath she takes buries her further into his scent and he’s holding her firmly. It somehow calms her and she hates it. She hates that every time she’s near the destruction of her room, of herself, it’s Ran who’s comforting her.

“Come on,” he presses another kiss into her hair and wraps his arm around her waist. “Let’s go home.”

🎨

Seira is still on the ground when they get back to the front door. Rindou is smirking, staring down at her as he kneels in front of her before he looks up as they enter. It’s obvious he said something to her because Reika is no longer the only one in the room who is crying. Twins in every way except where it matters.

Ran barely stops as he leads her to the front door, past her sister without saying goodbye. Reika digs in her heels, turning towards her sister even as Rindou moves to step in place behind her.

Seira meets her eyes.

It takes a single moment for them to synchronize, to read each other so clearly that they’re almost one again. Reika sees in her sister the apology she’s been desperately waiting for, but it’s too late. Neither of them will ever be the same because of a choice Seira made. The ripple effects of a desire have turned into a tsunami that is leaving them both drowning.

Her twin faces that now and Reika can see the realization, the fear and the utter defeat she feels in Seira’s eyes. There are regrets there so strong it nearly chokes them both.

It’s too late.

Rindou moves, breaking their eye contact as he steps between them. Ran pulls her out the door. There is no going back.

These brothers will never let her.

🎨

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