anyway i think katsuki gets jealous upon seeing the way your friendship with his guard and personal attendant kirishima unfolds. you're incredibly easy-going around him, in a way that you're not around katsuki. he begins to notice the little glances exchanged between the two of you, or worse, the way you chat idly and joke with each other when you do your errands together.
it makes sense that you'd be more comfortable around him. kirishima, despite his position of prestige as a soldier and close attendant, could be considered a peer of yours. kirishima is not a lord like katsuki is, but rather, of common birth. he could marry you, if he wanted, something katsuki could never be allowed to do. he grimaces at the thought of having to approve your marriage certificate.
it's not that you're uncomfortable around katsuki, but rather that you seem to tread with a caution that you don't have with kirishima. katsuki wants you that way too. he wants you unbridled and unafraid, to see the real side of you, to touch you in the casual way kirishima seems to, though maybe not exactly like that. his desires are more selfish, carnal. it's inappropriate. it's a greed katsuki is not permitted to have and because what he feels is forbidden, he's threatened by the idea that with kirishima and you, it's not.
of course, what he doesn't know is that there's no real tension with kirishima. there's no real reason for you to be on guard or cautious or nervous with him because, unlike katsuki, you don't leave kirishima's company with damp underwear and an itch you can't seem to scratch.
Warnings: Toxic behavior, traditionally masculine roles, power dynamics, violence, murder, jealousy, subpar spanish, cursing, mentions of sex, description of unsafe neighborhoods.
(AN: I know I said I was working on the part two for the fae fic, and a fashion designer piece, but the idea for this guy hit me like a train. Apologies for any Spanish mistakes, I'm coming along in my learning!)
The sound of raucous cheering rings out throughout the crowd of the 'Dog Pit' Den, Harlem's most prolific underground fighting spot. Fighters from all over the city come here to try and earn a living wage. Backbreaking, degrading work, boxing, kicking, and spitting in the no-rules ring. A crack, a cheer, and the sound of a collapsing body, before the announcer yells that Matias Lopez has taken yet another challenger down. A sweaty, tanned man hops back and forth on his feet, arms raised in the air as he celebrates his victory.
"Ladies and gentleman, Matias 'The Mayhem' has taken down yet another challenger! You know what that means! Make some noise!" The announcer yells, and the room shakes with boos and cheers, the stomping of feet making the ground tremble. "Matias Lopez has won the 500 dollar Rookie Fighters Championship prize!" Another round of yells, and Matias spits on the ground. He makes his way out of the cage, kissing the rosary his mother always makes him wear, even when he's cracking skulls in an illegal cage-fighting circuit. To be fair, she doesn't know. He sighs, tearing his fist-wrappings off and running a hand through his sweaty locks. He changes out of his outfit, switching into a casual gray hoodie, a pair of sweats, and some slides. After reapplying deodorant, he hears someone outside. One of the guys who runs the 'Dog Pit' has come to give him his check.
"Yo, Matias, my man!" He greets, slapping a hand on Matias's toned shoulder. "Me and some of the 'execs' as we've taken to calling ourselves are gonna hit the club', you in?" Mattias, clicks his tongue, and shakes his head. "Nah man, not tonight. I gotta get home n' see my girl. I was supposed to be home earlier." He glances down at the floor. "Shit, alright man, here's your check. I'll see you later." Mattias nods as the man heads out, stuffing the check into his duffle bag, before sliding out the alley exit.
Matias and you have been dating for a little over a year now. Both of you met in a pretty rough part of town, he was working a day-job at a gas station, and you were a cafe worker. He'd come in occasionally, claiming that the gas station coffee just wasn't up to his standards. He scared you, at first. Mattias has a very tough exterior, tattoos and muscles, but an even tougher interior. He was kind of stoic when you first met, and you couldn't quite get a read on him. He wasn't outwardly flirty or affectionate, which is why it took six weeks of him stopping by the coffee shop for him to pull you aside and ask what he was doing wrong, and why you weren't picking up on his advances. You had explained, and shortly after that you began dating. It was only a month or so into dating when you had learned of his cage-fighting career, but he assured you that he was tough, and no guy was gonna hurt him. You both needed the money on the side, so you reluctantly agree. That's what leads up to where you are now, passed out on your couch, waiting for him to come home.
He heads towards your shared apartment as quickly as he can, taking the subway about 8 blocks east, before running up the fire escape to the flat's balcony. He knows you deadbolted the door any time past 8:00, and doesn't blame you. It's kind of a dangerous neighborhood, and he feels bad enough leaving his girl home alone as much as he does.
"Pobre mami, espero que no me haya esperado." (Poor mami, hope she didn't wait up for me.) He pulls up the window, making sure to slip in quietly, in case you had already gone to sleep. As he places one foot on the floor, the wood barely creaks beneath him, when he hears a soft groan coming from the couch.
"Matty?" You mumble, sitting up from the plush couch and rubbing your eyes, trying to make out his large silhouette. He sighs, tossing his bag to the side as he stretches "Hey, hermosa, did I wake you up?" He asks, looking at you with his usual hooded gaze. "I guess, I don't think I was asleep that long..." You run a hand through your hair. "How'd it go?" He smiles softly, chuckling. "You know me, baby, I don't lose." He sits on the arm of the couch. "Gotchu' five hundred dollars, gonna' get you something real pretty with it." You sigh, and shake your head. "You've got me plenty of gifts, what we should be doing is saving up for somewhere else to live." You explain. He shrugs. "Yeah, you right, you right. That's my bad." He puts his hands up in surrender. "Well, if you aren't gonna let me get you somethin' pretty, you outta lemme' take ya to bed." Before you can react, he scoops you up in his arms, causing you to squeak.
"Don't scare me like that, God!" You smack his chest, but your hand only bounces off his firm pecs. e chuckles. "Gonna' have to hit harder than that, mami." He flicks off the living room light as he carries you to your shared bed. He lays you down, gently this time as opposed to the times he throws you on the bed, usually to pin you down and tickle you, saying things like '¿Qué pasa, bonita? Solo empújame, no es tan difícil...' (What's wrong, Pretty? Just push me off, it's not that hard...). Sometimes though, his manhandling isn't that innocent. As you snuggle down into the bed, Matias strips off his hoodie, and you blush at the way the light coming in through the blinds hits his chest. He lets out a soft groan, as the plush mattress and soft bed sheets soothe his sore body. Matias bites his lips as his eyes trace over your sleepy form, and he rolls over onto his side, tucking an arm around your waist.
"Mmm, no Matias... m' too tired tonight." You whisper, your face scrunching up. Matias was never a very soft guy. Playful and devilish, sure, but soft? No. His hands were calloused from years of bruising skin and bloodying faces, working and scrounging every penny he can get to get a better life for himself. Deep down, he couldn't imagine placing these damaged, dangerous hands on something as soft and sweet as you. He could snap you in half if he desired, and the thought terrifies him.
"What, no baby... I'm not tryna' smash at-" He looks over at the clock. "Shit, 1:00 am already? Jesus Christo..." He turns back to you. "Just wanna hold you, mami." He presses his long torso up against the curve of your back, pressing his face into your curls and inhaling your scent. "You feeling okay?" You ask. He knows he doesn't. He knows he should have been home for you sooner, and it didn't help that he had to make a stop on the way back home.
He feels a sense of dread in his stomach. You won't ever know about the stop he made, you were asleep. Besides, he comes home late all the time. What you will learn about is your bloodied new co-worker being found with his skull smashed in, just a few blocks from the cafe. Due to the graphic scene he left behind, it's sure to be on the morning news. Matias hadn't expected your new friend to be working the late shift, but he was still on an adrenaline high from the fight, and god... he couldn't stand the idea of that bitch getting to spend more time with you than him. He wants to be home for you more, he does, but he can't. Still, that doesn't mean he's going to let any other guy fill that void. Hell no.
"I'm fine, Hermosa. Just sore from the fight, wanna' hold my baby." He whispers, placing a chapped kiss on the shell of your ear, making you flinch. "That tickles..." You giggle. He smiles, and squeezes you gently. "C'mon, stop being silly. Necesitas descansar, especialmente después de quedarte despierto para mí." (You need to sleep, especially after staying up for me.) He scolds. You roll over to face him, and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. "Love you, Matty." You sleepily coo, before drifting off in his arms. He freezes, his breath labored for a minute as he looks down at you. Even now, after dating for so long, he can't process the softness of you juxtaposed with the beatings he both takes and gives every other weeknight. It's a transition he sometimes struggles to handle. He feels a smile creep onto his face, and he curls your small form into him, practically cradling you against his broad chest. God, he'll take on an extra five challengers next time, all for you.
"Gonna get you a penthouse baby, real nice neighborhood too. Somewhere safe, somewhere that makes me feel better about leavin' you all alone..." He whispers, knowing you can't really hear him. "Better not have anyone but me over, no fucker's from work, aight'? I'll kick the shit out of any of em' just for you..."
tw. incest, dubcon, coercion, size kink, belly bulge, praise, hair pulling, a lot of emotional bs, jealousy, angst, love triangle
wordcount. 7k
part 01 part 02 part 03 fin.
a/n. it has come. the end has come, she's here, it's over and the witch is dead (i'm the witch, this killed me a little inside but i'm very glad to have it finished). as always i would love to hear your interpretations and thoughts about this chapter and story in general because i feel like there's a lot here thats,, up for interpretation and discussion and yea <33 and ty ty ty a million to @seijorhi and @darlingsanzu for beta-ing for me i am in your debt forever and ever
itoshi rin x fem!reader x itoshi sae
He imagines if it were anywhere else, the room would be covered in a thin layer of dust by now. But it isn’t, courtesy of a caring, fretful mother— the room remains in pristine, paled stasis. Instead every old textbook, every picture frame and the ancient soccer jerseys have been dutifully cleaned, and are splayed out in front of him like a near-perfect copy of his childhood. Sae runs his fingers along the length of the desk as he slowly drags himself around the room in a circle, before coming to a halt in front of the bookshelf.
His parents were as surprised as any to see him home, considering he should be ready to head back to Spain soon, with the upcoming season and all. And truthfully, he had been ready to call his bumbling excuse for a manager two days ago. Should’ve landed splayed out in yet another sterile hotel room in a place he doesn’t care to explore hours ago. So he blankly wishes he could play pretend at amazement too. It isn’t very surprising that in his time of uncertainty, he finds himself here- where he used to keep you locked in his arms under thick blankets. He hasn’t been back home in a while. And not unlike other times, there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head.
He picks apart the perfect little shrine of accomplishments of his childhood room by pulling the picture frame up to his face, can’t help but frown at the sight. There’s a younger him -years before he joined Real Madrid- sweaty, sore ankles and exhausted on a bench, and right beside the youthful reflection of his own maroon-haired head, sits a girl a couple years younger. Her cheeks chubby and raised as the beaming smile shines all the way though the flimsy picture paper- and your arms wrapped endlessly tight around his stomach as joyous tears glitter on your lashes.
He won that match, of course, but that uneventful match out of thousands before it wasn’t why the picture landed itself a spot in the middle of his most cherished valuables. You were. The memory of your heart beating into him like a drum, of how it felt to be adored by you. Adoration that had gotten stale years before you’d started giving your all to him— felt different when it came from someone with no deeper motives. When all he’d ever given you was an unending game of playing catch-up.
His hand twitches with the urge to toss the picture back down with the rest of his sentimental crap. He doesn’t bother to put it back in place, pushing it aside for the tiered trophy that looks much too big among his other old belongings. The gold layer gleams in the low light of his room as he takes it off of the shelf, and his frown digs deeper into his face.
But a soft clearing of a throat by the door makes him look up. His mother smiles as she appraises the room, and then him. “I’m making you a protein smoothie. I know you probably won’t stay the night but-”
“I’m driving up to the airport tonight,” he breathes out, trying his best to force the distaste off of his face. His mother nods again, and then steps inside almost cautiously, as if not to disturb the peace of the past. Ironic, Sae thinks, considering. He only came here to do exactly that. Nothing in the Itoshi house is sacred, hasn’t been for years. After a few seconds he plops the trophy onto the desk, and stares down at the woman before him with a deep sigh. “You came in here to say something, right? What’s up?”
You spend enough time with people over the years, you learn their tells. The reddish brunette starts picking at the pictures thumb-tacked above his desk before she speaks. “You stayed over at Rin’s for a few days… We haven't seen either of your siblings in a while.” A pointless starter, because they both know these facts. She’s stalling, tiptoeing around any point worth making.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathes. She could ask about his sudden visit. Or about Rin’s blatant dismissal of going anywhere that you won’t follow. Could ask about what Sae himself did to you. Maybe he’d finally be able to give a straight answer, if she dared. But she doesn’t, and Sae goes back to thumbing through the old photo album tucked away behind a mess of medals. His mother hums.
“You know we’ve tried to raise them to be respectful, and Rin’s shown promise. But your sister—”
Sae’s somewhat of a sadist, he thinks. To everyone around him, but also to himself. Coming here was a surefire way to land himself into shit, and yet... “They’re both in Tokyo and they get along well, mom. What’s the problem with living together?”
“Your father and I think your little sister should start letting you two live your own lives. I know she means well, but isn’t she a little too old to be so- well— you know how she is.” It once again is anything but a compliment. He knows how you are. Sure, folded in angles no brother should ever know his little sister, maybe. It makes a slight breath escape his nose like a laugh, but there’s nothing funny about it. “How else will she ever accomplish—”
“She’s fine! I’m fine, Rin’s fine— and it’s not like you ever cared, anyways. As long as we all hold up your precious standards, you don’t really bother to care, right?” The ticking of his internal alarm reaches zero, as he turns around to stare her down with thinly veiled impatience. “Your constant shit-stirring is what started this whole mess.” No wonder you grew into a codependent ball of emotion. What else could you do than let him kiss your mouth in the peace of night when he begged you to stay. What else could you do than let Rin sink all his problems into the warmth of you.
Your parents don't have the slightest idea of who any of them are, not really. It could hit them in the face and still somehow miss them. It’s almost amusing.
Her face goes red in the cheeks, sharp eyebrows starting to slant into the irritated grimace that he’s more used to. “What ‘whole mess’? What, what? I’m at fault for being concerned? I would expect you to know by now, Sae. Your little sister’s a needy, unstable girl with no further prospects like you two! And Rin-”
“She probably loves Rin more than you and dad combined ever could. She’s been to every match. Not you, her.” His voice is low and final as he meets the sea blue eyes aimed at him head-on. “And Lord knows no husband will ever look at her like Rin does. But of course you’re too enamored with your ‘perfect children’ bullshit to understand what goes on.” He breezes past the accosted breath of his mother clutching her collar, before walking with long steps towards the door, and letting out a sharp chuckle. “Don’t talk to me about my own little sister. I know who she is.”
+
The street is too bright and prim for his liking, as he walks up the porch toward the building— slowly dragging himself after you as you hesitate at the threshold. Even your absent-minded humming doesn’t make his nerves any less frayed, moving his jaw back and forth when you bury your face back into the papers as if you have any clue what you’re doing. Long enough for his foot to start tapping a rapid rhythm, before he finally nudges your chin up to look up his way. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. You don’t- I…” There’s a distance between you two that seems to grow with each passing second. “This is silly,” he ends on saying, unwilling to dampen the barely-there brightness in your eyes for the first time in days.
Your lower lip juts out as his hand brushes just briefly past your cheek to clear your face, and the wind ruffles the stapled stack of paper. “Daddy told me I should move out of your apartment.” There’s a guardedness that flicks over your face for a second, before you pull out of his reach to start gathering your hair up into a high bun and nod, “there’s two more on my list, you can go home if you don’t want to stay, nii nii.”
Rin’s blue eyes narrow, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back before you can walk away from this. “Hey, forget about what dad says. You don’t have to move out.” The mere idea of having you slip through his fingers presses on his chest, rattling his ribs a little with each breath. It gnaws and claws at the back of his brain hard enough to make him a little dizzy and— and he knows you don’t want this. You can’t possibly think that being alone would somehow be better than being with him. “I never asked you to move out.”
“Niichan,” your voice is small when you dare turn more his way, revealing the wobbly lip as you try to pull your arm out of his reach. He can’t be wrong about that.
“I’m not- I’m not asking, okay? Listen, we’re going home-”
You shake, shoulders and head both. “Why are you making this so difficult? I know I’ve already overstayed my welcome, and you’re too nice to tell me ‘no’. That’s what this is.” No. He isn’t wrong. He knows you- and you couldn’t fake the kindness you give him when he fails the most basic family rules. If anyone imposes… it’s him. With every kiss along your shoulders in the bathroom, or when you let him pull you onto his lap to wind down whenever he damn pleases. His selfishness is the thing that overstayed— for long enough that he can’t even imagine his life without you.
His thoughts might not come out as well in words, but even you must know this much. You aren’t this self deprecating. Before he can find it in himself to care that you two are technically out in the open, he grabs your cheeks on both sides, and lowers himself to press his forehead to yours. He loves you. He loves you so much he could die. He hears, more than sees, how you fumble with the papers in your hands as he keeps you so close to him— opening up that shield for once. There is no world in which he allows it to end with you even further away.
“I want you to stay.” The whisper clearly deals more damage than he intends, because your eyes go glossy as soon as he says it. “Don’t make me beg you.” He pulls back from you just enough to take a breath, but his thumbs stay on your soft skin. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, before pulling up your nose and leaning the weight of your head into his one palm. It’s soft, and too gentle -makes him scared to snap you in two with a single move- he thinks it wouldn’t be past him. Sae delivered a serious blow, he knows that. If he wasn’t so green with envy, he’d be able to relate.
After a few more seconds, you faithfully reach to press your mouth to his like you’ve been conditioned to do. And hesitate, staring at the path under your feet. “Okay.” You wrap your arms around his waist— and only leave him aching for more.
Always more, barely getting his gluttonous fill started. Still, it makes his skin tingle with heat, buzzing along his lips. Your fingers lace themselves in his, and he’s only very vaguely aware of the old couple passing you two by with a disgruntled sigh. It makes him pull you protectively close. And a soft, almost fearful chuckle falls past his lips. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, okay?”
+
Rin doesn’t mind having a temper when it doesn’t play him parts. It is what made him the man he is today. When you’re not involved, he even likes it. But though he tries his very best to control himself, his jealousy inevitably ends up catching up to him. Patiently built up through the years— it barely makes it a whole week after Sae leaves before it bloats inside him and starts to rupture. Leaving a sour, sour taste deep in the crevices of his skull.
The apartment is all you when he walks in. It strikes him as you face him with big eyes, that warm at his presence. You’re wearing an oversized shirt that just about covers your ass, and are turning the food around in the pan as your face lights up; and any sane brother would act accordingly, but his brain insists. This is the sight he wants to be greeted with for the rest of his life. Having the one person who can harm you closest, or something. He always was an opportunist, but he thought Sae the selfish one.
It’s almost pitiful that you play your role so graciously. The tongs rattle against the cutting board when you perk up to kiss him, and for a second longer than usual, he keeps you. Ever since Sae, his guilt hasn’t been enough to keep the longing down. It’s karmic punishment, probably. Always stuck treading in the redhead’s footprints. He keeps his mouth against yours until you start getting hot in the face, and start fidgeting with his fingers.
Not that Rin cares. He simply wraps himself around your back and links his arms under your breasts, and knows you won’t protest. The colors of Sae’s barrage on your throat have yet to fade, deep purples and blues that tint yellow at the edges— and asks him to resist the urge to make his own. He truly, truly doesn’t mean to be this way. You’d probably have a breakdown, and he has yet to even touch that can of worms. In your presence, he almost forgets. If he wasn’t so often fucking reminded, maybe he’d be able to rid himself of the shackles he knows are clinking at his ankles.
The brief brush of his lips along your jaw makes you shiver, then you look back at him over your shoulder. “That tickles, nii nii. Stop it.”
“I’m just looking.” The cockettish curl that your lips take on when he raises a single brow is devilishly distracting, hips suddenly pressing much too close to yours— so he averts his eyes, but can’t make himself pull away from you. Instead he talks, trying not to nuzzle into your cheek. When you try to slip out, his hands chase, and trail fingertips along your skin just below the shirt. A shirt he recognizes as Sae’s when trying to hide away in your smell, only to be painfully reminded. After a long breath, he brushes a finger along your throat, resting his chin. “What’s all this?”
He’s sure you’re not naïve enough to miss the question. But you only raise your shoulders the slightest bit, and jut out your lip. “Hmm… I- don’t know.” It’s hardly a lie, convincing exactly no one. You don’t miss a beat though, and focus on the food. “How was the meeting?”
Rin can’t help but frown at the blatant dismissal, but tonight, he’s too tired to care. He’s so fucking sick of letting Sae in, even when he’s not even around. So he strokes your thigh harder, in an attempt to feel more of your heat. “Training this year will be in Germany and France.”
“Oh.” You seem to let out a silent sigh of gratitude as he lets you run, before the situation catches up with you. “Oh. For how long?”
“Three months.” The tone of your voice is distinctly soft, and has his eyes on the tiny drop of your mouth corners. It’s a non-issue, though. Even if he could physically stand it -which he’s not so sure he could, supporting his weight against your smaller body- he wouldn’t want to go. You’re coming, whether you like it or not. “What kind of hotel room do you want?” His instinct is to press another kiss to your cheek, trailing his mouth ever so slowly down to your throat and shoulder — and trying his fucking hardest not to let the whisper send his thoughts down the wrong path.
“Nii nii-”
Too late. It’s much too easy to envision you in the plush covers of his bed, moaning out his name like you did… Like he knows you can, dressed in his shirt instead. Your hips are pressed close to his, and you smell so fucking good, you have his eyes fluttering shut as he repositions his hands to your thighs. He only swallows hard, lets out a deep breath against the soft skin where your neck meets your shoulder, and forces himself to pull his mouth away.
There’s a low, rumbling sort of noise in his voice when he speaks next. “What? You’re coming along, right?” As he glances at the side of your face, he’s awfully aware of the jittery way you’re trying to continue dinner, blushy hot ears and cheeks, and lips puffy and glistening from biting them. It’s fucking unfair. His mind instinctively wanders, and heat pools in his cock and balls too quickly before he manages to take a few deep breaths. “I know you don’t wanna stay here all alone.”
“I don’t. If- If you want me to come, I will,” you nod, and also shiver when his hands softly squeeze in response. “You won’t mind sharing a room with me even in a hotel?”
God, he wants to bend you over and grab you by the collar for being so fucking dense. It’s cute though, too innocent to reason with- it stresses him out as much as it heats his entire body. How could he mind, after two years of sleeping in the same bed as you. “We’re used to it, ‘course I don’t.” You move out of his arms to turn off the stove, and smile, but it doesn’t really seem to reach your eyes. As your hands slide along your neck and shoulders, your posture stiffens, swaying softly on your feet— and Rin sucks his tongue. Those fucking blotchy marks come clear into view again, and they nag. They’re a sore sight, a few breaths away from nauseating.
He can’t help but think you wouldn’t ask the same question to the oldest.
To add insult to injury, you nuzzle into the soft edge of the shirt for comfort, in a way so awfully familiar it makes him feel ill. Why, why, why. His heart rate spikes as he stares at the floor instead. “You spent weeks in a hotel with Sae when he went to train.” It comes out a lot more accusatory than he had in mind, though he tries to hide the bitter tone in his voice. “Can’t be that different.”
“It is different.”
“-How is it any different? Because Sae will abuse your silence in a way that I don’t?” It’s so fucked. Rin knows full well that he isn’t innocent in this situation, not even close. But he hates the way you fist your hands into Sae’s shirt, how you cling to it like a lifeline— not even trying to cover the hickeys he seared into your neck the first second Rin wasn’t looking. Hates it so much that arguing rationally goes out the window. He wants you to love him as much as he loves you; because facing himself makes him sick. There’s nothing in the world more painful than knowing what he feels for you. So fully and deeply to his bone marrow, it squeezes his chest so tight the air barely reaches him.
“W- I just-” your eyes desperately dart around the kitchen for anything to say, “I love niichan, and he- he loves-”
“No, I love you, imouto! I’m the one who cares! He came here to use you and leave, and you’re asking me to pretend like I’m fucking stupid, or blind! I’m not here for you to feel better about being Sae nii’s play thing,” he snaps, having your eyes wide at the outburst, wringing his hands together in shame. Shame at needing to beg to want him, to care. Shame at longing for his own fucking blood in ways he shouldn’t. Shame at how fucking lesser than he feels. It builds and builds until his face feels hot, and Sae’s stupid fucking smug grin flashes in front of his eyes. He wants to tear his own hair out at it, but it wouldn’t even solve anything.
He can’t escape it, as long as he doesn’t have you as a guarantee. You, little, sweet you— stand there so disarmed, seeming so much younger than you are— tear-filled eyes and crossed arms. It’s the same look you’d get when Sae would goad you into stupid fights that you’d inevitably lose, or any time Rin would pretend to hate you as a kid. You almost seem to topple over with the force of the words, and Rin falls quiet. Your pitiful look is all that’s left in Pandora's box. “Don’t… don’t cry.”
Your bottom lip wobbles until your shoulders pathetically start to drop, like a kitten picked up by her neck, and you scrunch your face in a way he’s never had to see before— it shatters any composure he has left. “I can’t not…” your voice sinks to a whisper, a sad little whimper. “I don’t know- wh-how. I’m sorry, I don’t get you two. I don’t get it— I just can’t- have you leave me too. Don’t leave, nii nii.”
Silvery tracks run all over your cheeks, your chin, down your neck before you finally dare look at him again, and beg. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, I just- Can’t handle it if you leave- hck- Please, Rin. Anything you want, I just- don’t make me go without you too.”
Your hand hovers halfway between grabbing for him and falling short, as you cry- for him. For him to stay, and ask him to, for maybe the first time, give his feelings a chance. Selfishly, so fucking selfishly, it blossoms inside him with a prideful glow. It dismantles him and rebuilds him from the ground up all at once, has his heart beating out of control against the same rib cage that shouldered his guilt, before he manages to peel his tongue from the bottom of his mouth.
“I’m not going anywhere…” his voice manages, almost cracking along with the tremble in his hands as he places them on your sides, sliding to your waist.
The physical, emotional turmoil instantly ebbing away when you crash yourself into his chest, is almost sickening. It doesn’t matter though, not to him, not when he lifts you up into his embrace and your legs wrap around his waist, letting him rest his face against your throat and allowing you to burrow yourself into his arms. “I’m sorry. Your big brothers love you, I promise. I love you. I’m never leaving.” The way you cling to him gets tighter, as if forcefully anchoring you to his chest— and he takes it as space enough to nudge his face up into your view and brush noses in the process. He should feel more guilty. He knows Sae, and he knows you- and despite what the other man might think, Rin has no illusions of being a saint.
Rin knows that Sae told you whatever string of lies that stuck best, asked you to lay down under him and come undone, and you did so without a second thought. And though he hates that thought, it isn’t born out of the goodness of his heart. He wants you to be his, and only his. The brush of his face along yours makes you shiver, and softly shake your head- but he can’t help it. He can’t do you one better than Sae did. His lips hover yours, lashes fluttering under low lids as the salty taste of your tears gets between you. His hand raises to your neck, letting you arms and legs support yourself against him as he pulls you in, and whispers. “Kiss me back.”
+
The small, rounded window reflects back his own face against the dark sky, tipping the dark liquid around the glass in disinterest. First class feels awfully plain now, he almost laughs, sliding the glass along the bar. A pretty, blonde flight attendant passes by, swinging her hips as she tops up the other man’s glass with a smile and deposits another bottle by their sides. Sae doesn’t bother to look up as he fiddles with the fine chain in his pocket.
“Come on, prodigy boy… we’ve got two more hours to kill.” Michael’s small smirk grows when he tosses another few ice cubes into his glass, and tops himself up even further. “Don’t tell me you’re already tuckered out.” The chain slips between his fingers a little as he pulls it out— and lets out a long, pinched breath. Long lashes brush his cheeks as his eyes narrow, and the gold-plated necklace lands in his palm. He pops the small square open.
Even printed so small, your taste is mirrored back onto his tongue, and sets the hairs on his neck on end.
Michael barely gives him a momentary glance, before taking a sip, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I’m not.” His thumb brushes ever so briefly over the face in the picture, before he snaps it closed again. And the white blond raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask, for once. Maybe he knows the answer won’t satisfy any of his curiosity. Doesn’t matter to Sae. The whites and oranges of the airplane make light spots in the layer of fog outside— and he raises the glass to his lips after all. He wants to groan and yell until he drowns out the noise. Maybe punch something too.
His life has been a string of unfortunate sacrifices… so why. Why is this one any different? The slightly sweet tone under the bourbon hits the back of his throat, and he rests his forehead on the cool bar in hopes of getting a clearer head. Instead of clearing anything, his thoughts start crawling to the forefront again. He thinks of the flow of your hair between his fingers, and the way you say his name. He doesn’t miss home. Doesn’t miss Japan. He just misses the warmth in his chest when he’s able to return to you. God, he hates his pitiful, sentimental crap.
He wonders if Rin’s finally made a move.
+
Your mouth is completely occupied as Rin crawls over you and slides a leg aside to fit his hips against yours— your hands sliding into his hair when you roll back your head with a soft squeak to catch your breath. “Rin, Rin- I don’t think we should- do this.”
Your clothes are discarded by his feet and your pliable body laid out before him as your legs brush his. He shivers as your breath brushes over his cheek, and makes him want to clench his eyes shut to escape it- but he can’t. Never could before, and it’s no different now. He’s entranced by the rise and fall of your chest even under your hands that keep the slightest sliver of modesty. Not like he hasn’t seen all of you before, right?
He allows for a few breaths before he needs to be back to your mouth, opening your lips with his and connecting tongues— and almost knocks teeth with yours in his excitement to get closer. Your tongue on his tastes so good, melting every warm, desperate feeling and slipping it down his throat. Now your palms go to grasp his waist instead, brushing over the exposed skin to squeeze. “Rin.” He’s barely clear headed enough to pull back to cast a glance at you, and he grunts out your name. His face moves to your tits instead, grabbing and licking at every inch of skin that he can, and you whimper. “St-Listen to me. I think- we can’t.”
He can’t listen. His mouth slots over your nipple to bite at it, and you go to grab a handful of his hair with desperate, flexing and unflexing hands. Your chest raises into his touch and the licking and sucking, and it sets everything in his head up in flames. You’re no longer the little sister he wanted to protect. Not when you’re withering in his lap and grinding yourself against him like a slut, begging with fluttering lashes for his cock to drive home. Fuck. “Rin nii~” you whine, your lips are puffy and glistening. “Hmph, listen~” Fuck fuck fuck, he wants to have you crying out his name until it’s carved into his brain.
“What?” he finally manages to breathe back, skipping his hand along your naked thigh. His heart is about to beat out of his chest with you under him, rocking the couch when he raises himself above you. But can you blame him? He’s never been so fucking hard in his life, unable to think of anything but the softness of your body under him, and the taste of you. He slides up to tilt you back more and lets his eyes fall to your naked body again. Maybe he should be used to it by now. Used to you. But everything about you makes his body feel like a balloon that’s about to pop— and he sucks his tongue, fighting the urge to drool over all of you. “What?” he repeats again, eyebrows raising.
Rin realizes a split second before you speak that he doesn’t want to know, sees it in the pitiful look of your half-lidded eyes. But you’re too honest for your own good. “I never told you- that niichan touched me. I’m sorry. I said that we couldn’t- but- but niichan didn’t listen to me. And now he doesn’t like me anymore.” Too fucking honest for your own good. His stupid, pretty little sister splayed out in his fucking lap. How naïve are you? Instead of any solid thoughts crossing his mind, his mouth simply falls open a sliver, and he stares. If he didn’t already believe you… he would probably laugh. “I know I did a bad thing. I’m sorry.” Your lip wobbles, and you pull his hand to your chest to cling onto him. His temperature reaches a boiling point, flushing his brain with red.
“It is bad.” He nudges your face up to his with a soft sigh, and then presses several kisses along your lips. “If you’re gonna do this with anyone, shouldn’t it be me?” He could say that he will regret the way you look up at him with a thousand stars in your eyes. But that would be a lie. He’s out of guilt. His spine tingles with longing, face hot, his cock and balls thumping. It’s impossible to think of anything else. He kisses you again, letting your moans and whimpers drown out anything else, and moves to sit onto the couch. Then he pulls back only to pat his lap, and raises a brow at you as you search his face with your eyes. “Sit here, on your big brother’s lap. Hurry.”
You only hesitate for a few seconds, before he asks a little more sternly, and has you moving. “Do you have any clue how badly I’ve wanted you? Every time I look at you, you look so fucking good. So soft and sexy.”
“Don’t say that stuff,” you squeak, but you don’t fight him.
“I always want you,” Rin simply continues, as you lay your legs on his strong thighs with a pout, “you get my cock so fucking hard, see?” You do see, licking your lips as you take a deep breath and your hips roll against him instinctively. Your hands thread together behind his head, and Rin’s gotta focus so fucking hard not to start fucking the plush of your thighs. “Open your mouth.” He grunts when sliding his long fingers over your tongue, collecting enough spit to coat his fingers.
While his cock bops impatiently against your stomach, he’s transfixed on the embarrassed look in your eyes, and your whimpers as he pulls back. Truly, he’d like to spend hours exploring. And another couple hours giving you back the pure torture you put him through for the last two years. But he can’t, not when his cock is brushing its flushed head all along the belly and smearing pre-cum all over you. “Normally I’d ask you to put your mouth on it,” he grunts, free hand sliding along your cheek and taking a handful of hair, “but you’d have to keep a mouth full of cum.”
“Niichan, don’t-” you whine again, humming when the tug on your hair lingers between painful and pleasurable, “don’t say that~”
He can’t help but grin, licking a long stripe up your chest to your neck, and placing sloppy kisses on the skin. “You don’t like knowing that your big brothers want to fuck you? That you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger?” You mewl when he leaves a bite on your soft skin, before moving his hands to your ass and sliding one down between your legs. Your pussy’s already dripping despite your protest, has him slipping two fingertips inside and curling his hand up into you. He can’t fucking resist. It eats him up from the inside, mouth corners again twitching up. “I think you do like it. I think your pussy’s all-” His fingers fuck up into the soft walls of you, “-fucking-” again and again, leaving you panting, “-mine.” He probably shouldn’t find so much glee in it.
“Mhph,” your fingers dig into his shoulders, and your bottom lip is squeezed between your teeth, before you lean down to kiss him. Soft, almost sweet kisses, if not for the way your body grinds back into his palm and you whine softly like an animal in heat. It’s so fucking cute. It has his cock pulsing as he takes a breath, and looks at the sloppy way you leave his hand.
“Move up,” he quickly mumbles, kissing you back once before your thighs rise and he wipes his fingers on your slicked up mound, then slotting them into his mouth. He can’t even resist moaning out a rumbly, gravelly call of your name before he grabs two hands of your ass and helps you up. “Fuck, you’re so-” everything. If anyone had ever told him he’d be this weak over another person, he would’ve laughed. “Gonna fill you up, finally, f-finally gonna feel your little cunt squeeze around me.” His forehead rests on your chest for a second, placing a few lazy kisses on your tits, before he looks up. And though you look awfully flushed, embarrassed and heated- with teary eyes and puffy, bitten lips- you still run a hand through his hair and along his neck.
Then he lines up and moves you down onto him, and the first touch is all he needs to start feeling cotton fill up his brain. Your pussy takes him so well, sliding inch by excruciating inch onto his cock, and whimpering every second of it— you look spent well before he slides you down the last bit and your walls clench around him hard enough to knock the air out of him. He never thought you that small, but the way you struggle to take him, shaking on your legs and letting out every mewled thought, is so fucking hot. He loves you. Rin’s a sister fucker, and he’s never felt so fucking good in his life.
“Oh, fuck. You’re so tight- t-tiny little pussy… Holy-fuck, ugh—” You’re so warm, and soft, and he can’t help himself. He’s pushing you over onto your back before he can think of it, and places both hands besides you. Wide shoulders cover your view until you’re forced to hang on as he pulls back and fucks back in hard.
The slaps that fill the house as he pumps his thick, heavy cock into you are a melodic dream, making you whine and moan and dig your fingers and nails into his back. “Rin niichan, ah, ah, ahhh- I love you- I love you— ah, l-love you~” He fucks into you without abandon, letting his cock fuck right into the soft, spongey part of your walls and filling you right up. The rhythm he sets is hard and deep, and shakes the couch around enough to hear it groan. But he’s lost in the way your body curls, and you lift your chest to his, head thrown back— and almost choke on your teary whimpers. “F-feels- so gud- ah, I- I’m sorry. Mom, dad, I’m sorry. I love my— big brother!”
It’s like a beast that his balls clap against your ass and his one hand finds purchase between you two to toy with your nipples as he pants. His balls ache, with every wet gush of slick that collects between your two bodies it drives him further into you, fucking the head of his cock deeper and more precicely into you. He can see his cock slide in and out through your belly. It’s vile- in a way that makes everything feel blank, pleasurable and tingling down his spine. “Can you rub your clit for me,” he breathes, and kisses you, sucking on your tongue when you oblige with shaky hands. “Uhuh, such a good little sister. The best- b-best fucking hole, ugh-fuck.”
“Nii nii, I’m close.”
He’s burning through you, losing himself in the pleasure of filling you up all the way as your fingers flit over your puffy clit like he knows you like. He could do it for you if he wasn’t so desperately trying to keep himself from blowing his load, feeling the muscles in his legs, back and shoulders flex as he chases that peak. “Gonna cum? You gonna cum?” Your rapid nodding, paired with the grinding of your hips and your back curling off the couch is enough to have him kissing your pouty lips again, and keeping that same exact punishing rhythm even as your pussy squeezes him tight enough to keep him in you— grunting. You’d be able to kill him here and he’d go happy. “Oh, fuck— so good, so fucking good-”
He can feel you fall over the edge before he sees it, and despite the best of efforts, cums together with you as you cling so hard to his shoulders you’ll leave marks. You cum on his cock as hot ropes of white fill up your clenching pussy, dripping a mess out of your shared orgasms as he shudders on top of you and only stills completely when your moaning goes into a pitched little whine, and then a deep breath of his name. “Rin nii~” you pout, rubbing your palms along his sides a few times. It looks like you want to say something, but can’t find the words, and it warms him from the inside out. But he pulls back a little, cock still awfully hard inside you, and his hand cups your cheek.
“Can you go again? I wanna go again.” Then his lips land on yours, pressing loving kisses all over your face, cheeks, your nose, and you let out a little giggle. “And again, and again, and again.” For the first time in a while, Rin finds himself completely, utterly happy. And not a single thought is out of place.
+
Sae’s staring up at the ceiling of his fancy apartment as he starfishes the bed, and the slow rings have him rolling onto his side. The phone beeps, before going into voicemail again. And he frowns. Your name blinks back at him as he pulls back, and the soft tone of your message rings through the device.
“Hey, I- you don’t normally miss calls… Must be pretty busy over there, huh? This is the third voicemail I’m leaving within two days.” He rights himself to stare out the window of his pristine Barcelona apartment, and runs a hand through his bangs with a click of his tongue. “I uh- I shouldn’t have left without a word. I was- well, I don’t know. I miss- you, I guess.” His air gets a little stuck in his throat, and needs a cough to get going. “Anyways, call me back when you hear this. Niichan’s gonna be playing in the World cup. Tell Rin to get his ass into the lineup already.”
And then, after a long breath, “tell him he kinda owes me.”
FIN
Thank you so much for reading my series to the end, i have so much love for these three and i will miss it and them :'>>
Ayato is a family man! That's the fact. So, he thinks that the greatest demonstration of love he could give you is to fuck a child into your womb, and the best part for him is that this possibility converges with the kind of obsessive love he has for you, but in case you ended up refusing to be the mother of his children, he would be so crazy with jealousy, already thinking you had another guy in your life, already thinking that you didn't love him enough even though seconds later he would feel bad for doubting your love, after all, you were the perfect girl for him and there was no plausible sense for him to live if it wasn't to be by your side, with his hands groping and caressing your tits, shoulders, thighs, cheeks, hair and waist – especially your waist, which would be squeezed in a death grip while you were face down, ass up on the spacious bed in his bedroom.
You were so overwhelmed, moaning and whimpering various "Ayato" and "Please" and "Harder" all together, so together that sometimes even he didn't know what exactly you needed to babble, but to him it wasn't necessary for you to rack your brains over words — he could do that for you, your pussy was doing it for you, clenching massively around his cock ready to milk every last drop of his cum even though you had said you weren't ready to have kids or be a mommy the last time Ayato brought it up on a lazy day when you were getting ready for bed.
He could teach it. How to be a mom, he could teach it for you the same way he made you learn to reciprocate his insane, obsessive love; and you, even when Ayato was balls deep inside you, forcing his hips harder and harder against yours, should have distrusted him from the moment he said he "missed when you let him fuck you with no condom", but why bother at the moment?
Kamisato Ayato is so kind, so loving, he would even buy you some morning-after pills if he wasn't intent on fucking a baby into you today.
"Can you feel it, honey? How deep I am?" he would ask with one hand flat on your belly, just above your groin, already imagining you with a round belly and breasts full of milk that he would definitely want to suck off with the excuse of helping you to relieve the pain, "You can, right? You can even feel already how deep 'm going to cum inside of you, can't you? So deep that your tiny, pretty pussy barely will can let it leak."
"Aya—ngh! You said you— ahn, pull out, you said you would—"
Ayato pressed you against the mattress harder, until your face was partially smothered in the soft pillows, and in one hard thrust, finished carrying out his silent plan with the head falling back, face contorted in an expression of pure bliss and chest rising and falling rapidly as his cum was poured deep inside your tiny pussy, filling you to the brim and impregnating you without even a second thought.
"I love you so fuckin' much, doll," he whispered in your ear before he slowly pulled out of you, not wanting to lose the warmth of your pussy around his dick, "This is a proof of my love, don't you like it?", one of his hands would pull away from your folds so that it was possible to see your entrance leaking with his cream and then two of his fingers would push it back inside.
You knew that Ayato was hopelessly obsessed with you, knew it so well that you even used it to your advantage when some disgusting man got too close, after all, Ayaka's older brother was always there ready to put an arm around your arms and pull your body close to his while giving a glare to whoever was trying to get your attention. His jealousy spoke louder most of the time, but sometimes there was still a little bit of lucidity in the bottom of your twisted-minded boyfriend.
The truth was that he didn't want children so soon, although he knew that in a few years he wouldn't be against it, Ayato wants to start a family with you! He really does, but not now, not so soon, however, you knew that if you had a child with him, practically anyone would treat you like a princess or a queen or even a goddess because of the amount of the influence the father of the child has and this idea made your heart melt even more than the sweet words of love and his fingers knuckles-deep inside your pussy did. And so, with that in mind you slowly began to map out your personal plan, first walking around the house wearing only too small lingerie but not letting your boyfriend touch you and then throwing away your pills and checking when would be the most likely time to try to get pregnant and as soon as the time came, there you were:
With your hands resting on Ayato's broad chest, pushing his body against the mattress and soft sheets, riding him and taking him deeper and deeper; while his cheeks were flushed and eyes rolling up and head falling back, making his light hair look even more beautiful messy. He looked like an angel, you knew you were acting like the devil. Just imagining him fucking a baby into you made your pussy tighten even more around him and your orgasm came dangerously close just as his did as you moved up and down on his long fat cock.
"You're– fuck! Throbbing so much, so fucking tight," he whispered in a hoarse voice, also forcing his hips against yours to try to go deeper, but then, as soon as his eyes opened and he could see your pussy letting his dick appear and disappear again and again, he remembered that there wasn't even a condom protecting him from impregnating you and immediately tried to put his hands on your waist to change the position to one in which he could pull out in time.
"N-No, Ayato, don't wanna you pulling out," you muttered pushing him by his chest against the bed again and riding him faster, too fucked up to think about anything other than him being so deep inside you, "Wanna feel your cum deep, so deep inside me, wanna have—," his veins twitched against your walls and a loud moan escaped from deep in his throat, his hand on your waist unsure if he wanted you to take him deeper or to be able to get out of the trouble of impregnating you, "Wanna have your fuckin' babies, Ayato."
Before you could even finish speaking, he was already desperately cumming with eyes rolling up again and your body on top of his as your pussy finished milking every last drop of his thick cum and you surrendered to an intense orgasm that clouded your mind and vision for long seconds. Kamisato Ayato was caught in a baby trap and didn't even realize it properly.
insane izuku does something to my blood. the way he’s so obsessed with you, the way he has the urge to literally become part of you if he could.
just imagine the look in his eyes, obsessive and adoring and fucking scary. the way his greedy scarred hands would feel across your body, how he’d touch and lick every part of you he could.
izuku’s inlaid jealousy. his insecurities all put towards you, doting and devoted and unbelievably possessive. it’s almost frightening. almost.
Summary: Jealousy is common in your boyfriend whenever you’re around rowdy and handsy men, so it’s no surprise when a flirtatious one brings it out. You tell him you’re there to stay, but maybe words aren’t enough.
Warnings: female genitalia, asphyxiation, possessiveness, slightly toxic relationship, bruising, desk sex, jealousy, mentions of locking up, alcohol, bit of dubcon [due to alcohol], small fight, insecure Kaeya
The tavern was always rowdy, a place where many went to drink away the stress the day had brought. For many like Kaeya, it was also the place to drink good wine with close friends. Venti was attempting to convince some drunkards into paying for his next bottle of wine, while others like Rosaria chatted with friends. For you, though, it was a normal night that was you filling in for Charles, working alone behind the counter. You could handle it of course, it was just a whole different world behind the counter.
“Hey, cute bartender, mind giving me another pint for free?” A familiar smooth voice calls. Looking up from the glass you’re cleaning, you see Kaeya smirking at you. You’d say he was winking, but since he has an eyepatch you can’t say for sure. However, it’d suit his charming persona he puts on when asking for free drinks.
“No,” you bluntly retort, getting a snicker from Rosaria as Kaeya’s face falls. “I think Master Diluc would fire me for that. In fact, he’d probably prefer you pay double,”
“Now you’re just poking fun at me,” he pouts, but slides over some mora that’s enough for a pint. “If I have to pay double at Angel’s Share, I’ll find a good tavern to spend my money,”
“And miss out on flirting with the bartender, who is currently dating you?” Rosaria asks, a disgusted look on her face. “One could only hope you’ll save us from the display of public affection,”
“It’s not that bad—”
“Yeah it is,” you cut him off, grinning when he holds up a finger to his lips. Rosaria rolls her eyes, putting some mora of her own on the counter as she slides her mug towards you. Taking it, you pour her a fresh pint of wine as you go back into the rhythm of pouring, cleaning, and watching.
With drunkards abound, you had to keep an eye out for any rowdy ones. That’s also the reason Kaeya was here, to protect you from violent drunks when you gotta kick them out. Charles has no problem with them, neither does Diluc, but you’re less knowledgeable in how to deal with them. After all, if Kaeya wasn’t here, Diluc would have to be skirting his nightly duties.
When one of the guys throws his friend on the ground, Kaeya gets to the fray before you can say anything. Pulling him out the door with little to no effort, you go to clean up the broken glass on the floor, as well as check to see if the guy’s friend is alright. Despite being drunk, he’s got enough balance to be fine, getting up with hardly any problem. Too bad he isn’t sober enough to keep his flirtatious attitude away. “I must’ve been saved by an angel. A blessing from Barbatos himself,” he practically swoons. Grabbing your arm, he continues. “Drink with me, angel!”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not interested,” you try to squirm away as he seems too drunk to hear you, but in the end you’re also pulled away by Kaeya. His body between yours and the guy’s is all it takes to get him and his buddies a bit more sober, understanding the violent glare sent their way.
“I think it’s time to close, don’t you think so, bartender?” He asks, though it isn’t really directed at you. Everyone else gets the hint, Rosaria leaving in the chaos as Venti chaperones a few friendly drunks away. Nimrod and his buddies seem to scurry away, scared of Kaeya but not quite ready to stop drinking. Once Kaeya has successfully scared off and pushed away all the customers, shutting the tavern door, you can’t help but confront him.
“What was that? I do have a job, you know,” a huff as you clean up dishes. Your job isn’t over and Kaeya doesn’t seem to hear you, leaning against the door as you go about picking up glasses and mugs. “If Diluc finds out-”
“It’s always other men with you, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry?”
He rolls his eyes at that, kicking off the door. “I find you curled up with another guy, I find you always chatting up with Diluc, it’s always someone else,”
“Oh my- Kaeya, I’m not leaving you for someone else, especially not a drunk customer. Secondly, Diluc is my boss, of course I talk to him. I get you tend to worry a bit too much, but it’s fine. I’m not going anywhere,” you have to hold back from rolling your eyes as you talk, tired of his antics. This wasn’t the first time Kaeya’s been jealous, so you often find yourself using the same spiel.
Not many people knew, but Kaeya was an insecure man who covered up his insecurities with snarky remarks and a smooth smile that would derive any suspicions. The only ones who really knew he could be insecure were you and Diluc, the two people who knew him from when he was younger. Diluc was always a sore topic for Kaeya, since you had originally been promised to Diluc when you both were children. That never happened, of course, so it was you and Kaeya for quite some time. With Diluc being back and seeming to have good chemistry with you, Kaeya got jealous more often than not, worried you’d leave him.
Before you can say something else to him, he’s stalking off towards you and tugging you up the stairs. “Hey, where are you going?”
“The spare room,” is all he says, so you know what he’s talking about. It’s an extra room where Diluc will sometimes rest if he’s too tired to go back, so it’s actually free most of the time. You used to take naps in it until you ended oversleeping one too many times.
Getting to the room, he shuts and locks the door before turning to you. Jealousy is never a good look on people, but Kaeya is one of the few who have it work in their favor, hands slipping into your pants while his mouth mingles with yours, pressing you further back into the room until you’re hitting something hard. Breaking from the kiss to look behind you, he takes the opportunity to drop to his knees, taking your pants and underwear down with him. Fingers slide over the wood behind you, noticing you’re back up against the desk next to the bed instead. “Shouldn’t we move to the bed?”
“Why should we?” Is his only response, pressing kisses to your bare leg as he rises to his full height again. Pushing you against the desk even move, caging you in, he locks his one eye with yours. “You don’t seem to mind the desk in my office, why should this one be any different?”
“W-Well, this is Diluc’s de—” you try to say, but you’re cut off when Kaeya presses his lips to yours once more, hands picking you up from under your thighs and placing you on the wood. “What about splinters?” You manage to get out, pushing him away long enough to.
“You’re not going to get splinters. If you do, you can slap me,” he doesn’t press his lips back to yours when he’s done, rather kissing your neck as his hands get to work on your shirt. It’s a simple unbutton, which is enough to satisfy him as he hums in satisfaction, running his lips over your exposed chest. A soft sigh from you as he does, hands running through his hair as his own hands work to undo his pants. They’re tight, having to be tugged down, but he doesn’t seem to mind as long as his cock is free.
Spreading your legs, removing his lips from your body, he smirks as he looks over you. Disheveled, with your hair a mess and lips puffy from his rough kissing, legs spread to show how dripping wet you are, a sheen coating your folds. Just how he likes you, knowing he’s the only one who gets to see you this way. Giving a few pumps to his cock, he ends up rubbing it against your folds, coating it in your slick. He can easily slide into you, his arm keeping you from leaning too far back as he does. “So good for me, aren’t you?” He whispers, letting his tongue run over your earlobe. “A perfect fit, all for me,”
“I’m all for you,” you agree with him, running your fingers through his hair and around the back of his neck. “Only for you,”
“Fuck-!” He grunts, immediately starting to drill himself into you with your sensual proclamation. You’re clinging to him with everything you can, legs tightening around his waist as you try to keep him close to you. Steadying himself on the desk, he digs his teeth in your collarbone as he sucks on the skin afterwards. The desk rocks with each thrust of his, creaking and hitting the wall. You’re glad nobody’s in the tavern or else they’d have a very good idea of what was happening. “Sometimes I wish I could lock you up,” he groans, your mewling muffled as you bite down on your hand. Listening to him, he continues. “Or buy you a necklace with my initials, so everyone knows you’re mine. Everyone knows you’re taken and that I know you’re mine,”
“Then do it,” you moan out, breathless after it. Instead of saying anything, you slide your hand under one of his, bringing it to your neck as you look him in the eye. “Mark me as yours,”
Something snaps in him when you mumble those words, fiery passion in your eyes as you do. He squeezes down on your throat as you request, a strangled mewl from you as you clench around him, legs twitching. It’s such a pleasant response, he continuously lets go and squeezes down on your neck again, getting the feeling of you pulsing around him and squeezing each time he does. Another curse drops from his lips as you scream, the sound cut off by his hand. He doesn’t let go, however.
Taking his other hand, he uses his thumb to rub your clit as your eyes roll back, nails scraping any skin it can reach, one hand coming to his arm. His eye widens as he thinks it’s too much, so he releases pressure, but you manage to look at him as your hand squeezes his wrist. Going back to keeping your throat locked in his grip, he keeps fucking into you as you squirm and twitch, scratching and clawing at him while drool spills from your lips. A few well placed rubs has you letting out a strangled scream, almost silent, as you gush around him. He keeps your throat in his grip as he chases his own orgasm.
Despite your thrashing, both hands on his arm, he keeps his hand around your throat as he momentarily squeezes more. It’s not too long until he’s bringing his lips to yours, filling you up as your body starts to go limp, cunt still clenching around him. Taking his lips off of yours, continuing to rub your clit, you have to gulp in air as your chest heaves. A dark mark is around your throat, much too high for any shirt you own to completely cover the bruise.
Pulling out of you, letting his cum ooze out of you, he gives you one more kiss as you catch your breath. “This a much better necklace,” adding to his point, his fingers run over the skin, hearing your breath hitch as he does. It may not be as permanent, but it’s a favorite of his, now.
Rin has too much to thank his older brother for. His love of football, his stubbornness, his drive; and the one thing he ever really wanted more than anything— you.
contains itoshi rin & itoshi sae
This is dark content. This story will contain incest, jealousy, angst, and more in the future chapters
previous / next
“Rin. Rin.” The room is still dark except for the blaring light you’re holding up to your face, making him grunt, roll over, and close his eyes again. You don’t say anything for a while which only makes him sigh, because he’s been around you long enough to know that it isn’t an admission of defeat on your part. “Rin,” you whisper again, and this time he cracks one eye open long enough to glare at you and the way your pretty face is lit in harsh angles by your phone screen. “Sae nii is back.”
“Great,” he grumbles, taking his pillow from below his cheek to instead plop it over his head, wrapping it over his skull. The room is hot, clammy, which makes the covers sticking to his skin even more uncomfortable. You call again, muffled now, but before you can repeat yourself fully, he blows a sharp breath through his nose and lifts one end of the pillow to glare at you again, more narrowed. If it wasn’t so dark, you’d probably comment on him getting permanent wrinkles like that, would probably press your thumb between his brows to smooth out the harsh line there with an understanding smile. “It’s the middle of the night, what the hell do you want?” he still snaps, unable to keep the venom out of his voice.
“Niichan’s back home,” you mumble. He can’t tell if it’s excitement or pity left on your face when the light of your phone goes out, only able to make out the slow movement of your lashes, and the way you grip the blankets a bit closer to your body. Your one shoulder has slipped out from the thin fabric you always wear to bed, seeming to wink at him from the distance between you both. You bring a hand up to run it along your neck and shoulder, smoothing out some ache you’ve complained about for a few days now, before he closes his eyes again in a last attempt to fall asleep. ‘Why should I care,’ he bites back under his breath, and you ignore it in favor of prodding his side with nimble fingers. “The drive is long. Come with me, Rin nii?”
“He’s got enough money, tell him to take a taxi.” You lob the other pillow against his head without hesitation this time, making him let out a soft ‘uph’, before suddenly sitting up on the mattress and towering you from his seated position. “What’s your problem?” It’s an empty question, he already knows the answer. You look pretty like this, gentle and open as you watch him get his bearings. There’s a bit of hair sticking to your bottom lip when he is able to make out your face in the dark, long lashes splayed around sleepy, perfect eyes, and his hand twitches in his lap with the urge to brush it away from your face entirely. Weak idiot.
“Please come with me?” Even before you reach for his arm to cuddle it to your chest, even before you jut out your bottom lip, he’s already shifting his weight for you. Weak fucking idiot. He takes a breath, gives you a push against your forehead and moves over you to reach for the shirt at the end of the bed.
“Go get the stinkin’ car keys and put on some clothes.” You’re up with a small chuckle, sliding off the edge to smile back at him, before moving back to the hall. Rin’s eyes follow you as you leave, tracking along the curve of your spine, exposed thighs, printing the way you dart out of the room into his brain before falling back in bed. He takes a deep breath, feels his heart beating against his ribcage like a ticking time bomb. His large hands glide over his cheeks a few times, rubbing his eyes, before he bites his bottom lip. “Fuck. Moron.”
+
You take his car, talking much too excitedly about being up at 4am, something he can’t help but snap at you for when you laugh at his annoyance. But with the roads so quiet, like the entire world has stopped and made room for the two of you— just you and him, it’s easier to place that feeling sewn between his lungs and his heart, pressing on his stomach a little any time you look his way, or smile, or rest your head against his shoulder. And even though he’s become a master at ignoring the mulling thoughts tucked far back in his head, there’s a part of him that hopes the drive doesn’t end too soon.
He drops his hand to the gearbox and shifts, trying to keep his eyes strictly on the road ahead as you drag your hand through the air out the window, creating a draft that blows his hair every which way. He grunts. It’s impossible to ignore your humming, or the way the orange street lights flick over you like blaring warning signs. “Close it,” he mumbles, and of course you don’t. Your smaller hand just keeps going. It bobs up and down like a dolphin a million times, only stopping when your fingers get too cold and you stuff them between your thighs with a laugh. He can’t help but bite his lip again, before closing the window from the obnoxious rattling of the wind.
The music you put on earlier is long forgotten, as you drive through a tunnel and soft static fills the car. He clears his throat, before glancing at you again through the corner of his eye. There’s such an innocent type of relief on your face, face relaxed and open and vulnerable. He can’t stand it. He knows the world better than you do, knows Sae better than you do too, and there’s nothing both want more than to snuff out that last bit of goodness to make it their own. Rin just focuses on the end of the tunnel, tapping his finger against the wheel impatiently. “Sae might not be as excited to see you as you hope he’ll be, y’know.”
The car leaves the tunnel, exposing the night sky and all it’s stars again, and you pout. “Niichan never seems truly excited though.” You raise your shoulders to your ears, before stretching your arms out before you, shifting up the shirt you tossed on over your shorts. Boxers, his. He holds the immediate response of telling you off for it to watch how it falls around your thighs, just visible from under the zip-up sweatshirt. “I’m just happy we’re all together again, s’all, Rin nii,” you mumble, before reaching over the console again to rest your head against his shoulder for the little bit of intimacy you can get like this, “you don’t have to be.”
Instead of driving the last part like you promised you’d do, you fall asleep on him, snuggling closer into his neck and making driving unintentionally difficult, but he doesn’t wake up. Doesn’t say a damn thing when glancing to the side as your song plays in the background, as you mouth the words sloppily into his skin. He can only obey your wish as he parks and stares up at the front of Tokyo International Airport, gently nudging you back into the land of the conscious. He pretends pretty well that his skin doesn’t feel like popping like a balloon when you lean in and kiss him full on the mouth in thanks, wrapping your arms around his neck for a few seconds.
Not long enough too soothe him when you pull out your phone right after, but plenty long to make his lips tingle, the warmth of your embrace and the smell of you to linger on his collar. Rin barely looks up from his hands when you pick up and he can hear his brother’s voice on the other end, going along in your rambling of something about the gate, his car— he doesn’t really care to listen. You look happy, truly, fully happy, when you toss open the car door and run to meet the dark clad figure walking up halfway in a tackling hug. He frowns, clicks the car keys out, and watches how you gush something at the oldest, let him lean in and press a kiss to your forehead, to your cheek, and finally your mouth.
The mouth you so eagerly, innocently pressed against him just seconds earlier. Of course, it’s not like that— it’s never been like that to you; your morality a pretty strict black and white between what is familial affection, and what is more. Rin knows that as well as Sae does, and that’s exactly why he knows that Sae is anything but fair when he squeezes you to his chest and whispers into your ear. He looks over when you point at the car, seeming to meet his eyes with pinpoint accuracy even in the dark. You drag him over to the car behind you, and motion Rin to get out. He doesn’t, trying to ignore the way your mouth corners fall.
Just a few seconds longer he wishes to pretend that it’s just you and Rin in this car, just you and Rin in this life. Just a bit longer to imagine that he doesn’t have to fight his older brother on every single thing he cares about. Sae opens the door for him, leaning his head inside with a small smile. “Hey, little brother, d’ya miss me?”
“Not one bit,” Rin breathes back, smiling along when Sae laughs at that. He can read it in his eyes though, that testy attitude hasn’t changed one bit. The oldest Itoshi will always be the fan to his flames, no matter how much older he gets. A fact of life you’re blind to, sadly.
“I’m sure you didn’t. If I also had our little sister to keep me company, I’d be the luckiest guy in the world. You should come along some time,” he gives your pretty smile a quick glance, before opening the car door wider, letting in more cold air, “the team would adore her.” He squeezes your hand in his before he brings it up to his mouth, holding his brother’s eyes, before he finishes. “Maybe even marry one of them.”
“I’m probably not getting married to anyone from your team,” you giggle from the side, clinging to the oldest brother’s side like it pains you to let go of him just yet. “Besides, I have to stay here to support Rin, y’know?” You lick your lips before you glance back at Rin, completely missing the knowing, smug grin that Sae slips on, nodding along with your words.
“Hmm, guess you’re right, little sister. Rin’s lucky to have you too.” There’s a tightness that keeps pushing down on Rin’s heart more the longer he watches the interaction, keeping his expression as neutral as he can before running a hand under his eye, scratching it once in an attempt to distract himself. This is his type of game, Rin can only think, his brother has gotten the provocation down to a science. But he doesn’t say anything else, and Sae taps his long, slender fingers on the window a few times, before nodding at him. “Well, hop out, you drove here.”
“It’s fine-” Rin starts, only to get the weight of his brother’s hand on his shoulder.
“You get into the back seat with her and let me drive, okay? I appreciate it.” There’s a barely visible motion of Sae’s head to indicate Rin to move, which he does with a deep sigh.
You peel yourself from the oldest’ side to make way and happily get into the back seat though, basically dragging Rin along after you. “Us two in the back seat, niinii? It’s almost like when we were kids, I missed this.” He doesn’t move when you practically drape yourself over him, both much too used to getting all the physical affection in the world from him before, and too deprived of it to keep to yourself now. You’re already falling asleep again when Rin carefully lays his arm around your back and pulls you a little closer, barely enough energy to watch Sae load in his luggage or pull out of the parking spot. You mumble a soft “missed you s’much, Sae nii,” before soft snores fill the car, and Sae turns off the radio entirely.
But when Rin meets his brother’s eyes through the rearview mirror, he only blinks once, then pulls his lips into a tight line. “You could stand to thank me more for leaving, Rin. After all, that’s the only reason you still have a shot, right?” And the tight ring around his heart pulls even tighter when he pulls you a bit closer yet again, dropping his mouth to your crown. Your limp hand sprawled out across his lap is easy to link his fingers between, and it’s almost easy to pretend like you liked him this much all along.
Jealous ennoshita. Railed. Face in mattress and ass up jealous sex and...spanking - pregnant anon
warnings: smut, spanking, jealous sex, rough sex
TRUEEEEEEE WAYMENT- THX PREGNANT ANON
a hand massages the soft flesh of your ass before the other comes down to lay another blow. your face is buried into the mattress, hands gripping the sheets as he drives his cock into your hole with sharp thrusts.
his pace is relentless and he fills you up to the brim every time. another slap leaves a painful sting on your already red skin, a whine spilling from your lips. “you think suga can fuck you this? hm?”
your voice quivers as you gather up the energy to respond, “n-no. only you, chikara.”
“good girl.”
he grips onto your hips, slamming his cock into you over and over again.
