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hoejosatoru · 3 months ago

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Roster Hopper - Blue Lock edition

Characters: fem!reader x isagi, chigiri, bachira, barou, rin, otoya, karasu, yukimiya, nagi, reo (all separate beside nagi and reo) characters are 21+, reader's hair color/texture and skin color not specified

Summary: College team AU, where y/n is a manager of the team and bets her friend she can hook up with all the members of the team - without them finding out. This can be read as one entire fic or if you want to jump around I have the name of each character bolded for their part.

Word count: 11.3k help this took forever

a/n: this is the blue lock version of the fic concept I've done with Haikyu teams. I prefer to write characters older but college au makes this easier to so just imagine whatever age you want. Also y/f/n= your friend's name bc I couldn't think of one

Warnings: semi public sex, car sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, threesome, face sitting, squirting, toy use, finger in ass, chigiri is a sub/calling him good boy, virginity loss for rin, girl there’s a lot we got 10 men to get through so buckle up, also not proof read sorry

"Ugh, I am not going to miss August practices," your friend groaned, fanning herself with a clipboard.

"Seriously," you sigh. Usually you loved being the manager of your college's soccer team. It was a fun position and an easy way to get involved with a sport you enjoyed. Not to mention, your best friend was your co-manager, which meant you always had someone to chat with during practices.

The only time being the manager sucked where days like this, when you had to stand out in the blazing sun. Ego, the coach, made the team come in a week before the semester starts to begin training, which meant long days in the heat.

"Well, it's not all bad," your friend smirked, gesturing to the scene ahead of you. All of the players were currently running around shirtless, sweat dripping down their toned, sun-tanned bodies. The position certainly came with perks.

"Not a bad view, eh?" you replied.

"Ego's really cruel with his no hook up rule," your friend grumbled. You laughed, remembering how awkward the first team meeting you intended when Ego lectured everyone about not having sex with each other because it was a distraction. The players being off the table was definitely a downside of the position.

"I know," you sighed, "How am I supposed to graduate without knowing who's good in bed?"

"Right, like Rin is good on the field, but do you think his skills transfer?" your friend mused.

"Maybe Chigiri likes getting his hair pulled?"

"Do you think Barou makes girls call him the king while fucking?" You both snickered, drawing the attention of Isagi.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing!" you both responded in unison. You both turned away, trying to stifle laughter. As you regained your compsure, a thought popped into your head. You'd gone the past 3 year without breaking Ego's rule, but headed into your final year, you were feeling more daring...

"I have an idea."

"Which is?" your friend asked.

"What if I hooked up with all of them so we could get answers to our question?"

Your friend stared at you, incredulous. "You can't be serious."

"I fear I am," you replied. "Breaking the rules is fun every now and again."

"You'd have to break the rules like 10 times," she countered.

You shrugged. "I've behaved the last few years, I think I'm owed it. Besides, Ego will never find out because I'll make sure they'll keep their mouths shut. They can't know I'm hooking up with the other guys on the team, it would mess with the data."

Your friend rolled her eyes. "I didn't know this was so scientific. I bet it isn't even possible."

"Wanna put some money on that bet?"

"You're on."

You two spend the rest of practice hashing out the details of the bet. You had to sleep with the top ten players on the team, so could figure out who was the best. You couldn't tell them about the bet, nor could you let any of them find out, as it might mess with how good their performance is. You wanted to see how good they are when they didn't know it was a test. But if the team finds out, game over. And if Ego find out... well that was an awkward conversation you were keen on avoiding. You both agreed you had until the end of the school year and winner owed the other $300.

Karasu gave you your first opening. He was trying to convince the guys to go to a frat party with him, but after a week of tough practices no one was interested.

"I'll come with you, Karasu," you said with an innocent smile. "I think some of my roommates wanna go too, we can all go together." You added for the players who may be in earshot. Going alone might raise some suspicions. Karasu jumped at your offer and said he could pick you guys up at 8. Little did he know...

"Sorry Karasu, all my friends bailed," you lied, feigning disappointment. "Hope you don't mind if it's just me." Karasu's eyes raked over your body as you climbed into his car. You wore a mini skirt and a little top, which the glint in Karasu's eyes told you he enjoyed.

Just because Ego had a no hook up rule, it didn't mean the guys didn't look - or flirt - from time to time. Karasu was definitely one of the players that liked to push that boundary.

"Fine by me," he grinned. "We'll still have a good time."

The party, unfortunately, left much to be desired. It was the first big frat party of the year and it was beyond packed. The one drink you had was warm and crappy. Not to mention the music they had blasting sucked. You were barely there an hour when Karasu motioned for the exit.

"I'm sorry I dragged you out for such a shitty party," he sighed when you returned to the car.

"S'okay," you shrugged. "Hey it's still early, why don't we drive around and find a spot to chill for a bit?"

Karasu nodded, his hand on the back of your seat as he threw the car in reverse. "I think I know a spot."

It was only a few minute drive until you pulled up to a private little park, far from the main road. You couldn't believe your luck. You and Karasu slipped into easy conversation for a bit. The longer you spoke with him, the more you realized just how cute he was. You sorta went immune to the team's good looks since you've been around them for so long, but staring only at Karasu for so long reminded you that he was fine.

"What're you thinking about?" you asked him when he went quiet, giving you a particular look that made your stomach flip.

"I'm thinking," he replied, licking his lips, "That you look really good and that I really hate Ego's stupid rules."

"I can keep a secret if you can," you replied, leaning into him.

He held up his pinkie. "I won't tell a soul." You wrapped our pinkie around his with a triumphant grin. "Back seat has more space."

You crawled over the center console, followed closely by Karasu. He could see up your skirt, your ass barely covered by a little lace panty. He could feel himself growing hard as he tried to commit the image to memory.

You let out a little yelp as he playfully smacked your ass. "Sorry, couldn't help it."

You maneuvered to be straddling Karasu's lap. His hands tangled in your hair as he pulled you into a deep kiss. He was shy at all, kissing you with a hunger. You let out a pleasant hum as he nipped at your lower lip.

Your hips stirred over his lap as you felt him growing hard beneath you. Your skirt had completely hiked up around you waist, leaving you covered only in lace. Karasu let a groan as looked down at your clothed cunt pressed against his hard on through his jeans.

"Like what you see?" you teased rolling you hips. The friction against your aching cunt was delicious.

"You're so sexy," he mused, bringing his hands down to squeeze your tits through your top. You mewled, nestling your cunt against his thigh to grind down harder on him. You returned to kissing him as you rocked your hips, the rush of doing something you knew you shouldn't heightened pleasure building.

Your breaths were shortening the more you rolled your hips. You had to break the kiss as you desperately tried to chase your high. "Fuck, you think you could cum just like this?" Karasu asked, an excited edge in his voice.

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to find your voice. Karasu pulled your top down, exposing your boobs. He was greedy, sucking at your nipple and squeezing the other to help you along.

Your head collapsed on his shoulder as your body tensed and relaxed deeply into your orgasm. The breathy moans in Karasu's ear nearly made him come his pants.

"Fuck that was hot," he grinned. "Can I fuck you?" He was already slipping himself out of his pants. His tip was flushed and leaking, looking as needy as he sounded.

"Please." You were just as eager for more, positioning yourself over him. You let out a content sigh as you sunk down on to him.

"Fuck, you're soaked," he groaned, "All that for me?" He let you roll your hips, adjusting to him, but he couldn't hold himself back for long. He placed his hands on the seat, giving him leverage to fuck up into you.

"Karasu!" you cried. The air was thick, windows fogged from your panting breaths. Your hand streaked across the condensation as you tried to stabilized yourself.

It wasn't long before another wave of pleasure surged through your body, squeezing Karasu tightly. He let out a delicious groan as his hips stuttered and released into you. You collapsed onto of him, both of you panting.

"So worth breaking the rules," Karasu grinned. You smiled back, though for more reasons that Karasu realized. 1 down.

****

It had been a couple of weeks since your tryst with Karasu and you'd been holding your breath for Ego to call you into your office, or another player to make some suggestive comment. But there was no indication Karasu let anything slip. Your success emboldened you to set your sights on the next man

Barou always used the team gym later at night, after the rest of team had filtered out. He hated working out with them, complaining that they were loud and obnoxious. You, however, he didn't mind.

You were intimidating by Barou when you first met him, but quickly learned he was all bark and no bite. Well, with women that is. Though he had that tough exterior and an imposing size, he was always respectful towards you.

Truthfully, it was Rin you were most nervous to tackle in this challenge. Though physically less intimidating, he was certainly colder. Though Barou was smart, you had a feeling he would fall into the same pit fall most men do: thinking with the wrong head, so to speak. Rin, however, was more calculated, more observant. You feared he see through your charade. But that was a problem for future you.

You were grateful that Barou let you use the team gym in evenings with him, as you could avoid the crowded campus gym and men that ogled at every woman that walked in. For the most part, you and Barou did your own thing. Sometimes you would spot each other, but really you were just sharing the space with minimal interactions. You knew. Barou liked to do his own thing while working out and didn't wanna push it. Tonight, though, you had other plans.

You donned your cutest workout gear: tiny bike shorts and sports bra in your favorite color. You went about your normal workout, though not going as hard as you normally did so you could keep an eye on Barou. He looked as he normally did during a gym session, shirt off, hair down, wearing only small athletic shorts. He was certainly not making it hard to want him.

Barou was currently at the bench trying to beat his personal record of an incline press. He always had an impressive amount of weight loaded on his bar, but today it looked impossibly heavy. Grunts of frustration echoed in the empty gym as he couldn't quite lift the weight high enough to count as a rep. He set the bar down on the rack with a metallic clang and huff of frustraion. Now was your time.

"You know," you wandered over casually, "I heard that more testosterone can help men lift more.

Barou's brow furrowed. "Does it look like I'm low on testosterone to you?"

You appraised his broad form, thick with muscles, veins snaking down the length of his arms from the pump of his work out. A light layer of sweat made his body sheen. "Certainly not." You shrugged, not letting your true interest show. "Just thought it was an interesting theory. Probably bull shit."

Barou's eyes flickered between you and weight rack You could see the gears turning, the desire to conquer the a weight that would put him far above his teammates. "You'd be willing to try?"

"Sure, why not," you replied. "Could be a cool experiment."

"Alright, c'mere." You did as you were bid, your heart fluttering in your chest beneath his gaze. You slid on to him as casually as you could, your legs straddling his.

Barou was obviously bigger than Karasu, but you could feel the difference even just by being on his lap. His body was thick, forcing your legs open wider to accommodate his width. His muscles flexed beneath you as he shift on the bench to prepare for this lift. You bit down on your lip, hoping he wouldn't notice your blush.

Barou wrapped his hands around the bar, focus etched on his face as he lifted it off the rack. You weren't sure if you were surprised or not that it actually worked. It took some exertion on his end, muscles bulging, skin flushed, grunts that would sound very... suggestive out of context. But he was able to bench the weight for 3 reps, when he wasn't able to get a single one prior.

"Fuck, I can't believe that worked," he panted, setting the weight back down on the rack. When he sat up you were just inches apart.

"Knew you could do it," you said, innocently rolling your hips forward. "You're the strongest guy on the team by far." A little ego stroking never hurt.

"That why you were so eager to sit in my lap?" Barou replied shifting beneath you. You could swear you could feel his cock hardening beneath you. "Could feel you watching me all night." His eyes flickered down your body, taking in your barely covered body. "In this little outfit. Did you put this on for me?"

You batted your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Barou tsked. "If you asked for what you want, you might get it y/n." His hands, rough and warm, were resting on your outer thighs, leaving no question of what he was suggesting.

"And if I want you?"

His fingers dug into you. "Be careful what you wish for." He pulled you into him, you chest flush against his. His kiss was possessive, dominating. He kneaded your ass as your tongues slid over each other. His skin was hot against yours with only the thinnest layers of material between your aching cunt and his growingly hard cock.

You went to reach between the two of you, to squeeze his length, but Barou gripped your wrist. "I'm in charge here."

"Oh yeah?" you challenged.

In a flash Barou had man handled you into being bent over the bend. "Yeah." He ground his cock against your ass. "That what you want?" You mewled but that wasn't good enough for Barou. He brought his hand against your ass with a sharp slap, making you gasp. "Answer me when I ask you something."

"Yes Barou I want it! Please-" your voice broke off as he pressed his thumb against your clit.

"Good girl." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Gonna give you what you want." He pulled down your shorts, running his fingers through your wetness. "Soaked like a slut for me, huh?" He slid in two thick fingers inside you. "Gotta prep you for me."

Barou thrust his fingers hard and fast, but not unpleasantly. The pads of his fingers brushed against your gspot, making your cunt throb and spasm. Your ass wiggled back against him, wanting more, to feel him deeper. You were on precipice of an orgasm when Barou yanked his hand away.

You let out whine. "If you're gonna cum it's gonna be around my cock." You peaked back as you heard him shedding his shorts. His cock huge - long and thick, veins running up the sides. Your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

"Fuck." You couldn't contain yourself as his fat tip pressed into you. It ached, but in a sinfully pleasant way. Barou ran his hand down your spine, arching you for him while he gave a few shallow thrusts to adjust.

He quickly picked up his pace, the weight of him behind every thrust. It stole your breath, your cunt drooling.

"Making a fucking mess on me," Barou growled, watching the way you coating his length, dripping down on the bench. "Dirty girl." He gripped your hips, holding you just how he wanted. Your fingers dug into the bench, holding on for dear life as he fucked up.

"Barou I-" You choked out. You couldn't form a sentence with the way he took you.

"Go on and cum, y/n," Barou instructed. "Wanna feel you squeezing me." You wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer anyway at this pace. Pleasure exploded through your body, hot and heavy. Barou growled at your cunt throbbing around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, releasing only at the tail end of your high. The feeling of his hot cum shooting ropes into you prolonging you pleasure.

Barou slipped out of you with a grunt. "We need to clean up." Though he was amused by the mixture of yours releases coating his cock and spilled on the bench, his drive to clean was kicking in. He picked up the towel he brought with him while work out, gently wiping between your legs. It was oddly tender compared to his prior actions.

"Hey Barou, would you mind if we didn't tell anyone about this?" you asked. "I don't want to get in trouble with Ego. Plus, I can only imagine what the other guys would say."

Barou could feel a headache coming just by thinking of what stupid shit his teammates he would say. "I'm not telling them shit."

That was a good enough promise for you. 2 down.

****

The first few games of the season went well. Everyone was happy with the team's winning streak. Well, everyone but Isagi. He has yet to score a goal, which was bugging him incessantly.

"You just need to relax man," Bachira, who scored in today's game, told him. "You stress too much. It messes with your game." You eavesdropped on their conversation, pretending to take account of equipment as they packed their bags to head out.

"That's easy for you to say when you've already scored twice this season," Isagi grumbled.

"Just play better," Nagi yawned, not even bothering to look back at Isagi's disgruntled face.

"Or get laid, that ought to calm you down!" Reo snickered, jogging to catch up with Nagi. Not a bad idea Reo...

"Gee, thanks," Isagi snapped.

"Hey Isagi! Ego wants to talk to you," you called to him.

Isagi sighed. "I'll catch up with you later Bachira." He trudged over to you, looking defeated. "Am I about to get yelled at?"

"Well, I sorta lied." Isagi's brow quirked. "Ego didn't want to talk to you, I did."

"Oh? What's up?"

"Bachira's right," you replied, "I know I'm not a soccer expert, but I've learned a lot from watching. I can tell your game is off from the stress. You're playing stiff."

Isagi sighed. "I know, but the problem is I don't know how to not be. Everyone's scored this season except me. I don't wanna fall behind."

"Maybe Reo was right," you suggested.

Isagi let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure he is. But I don't exactly have any women who are willing to hook up for the sake of my game."

"I would, you know, for the sake of your game," you replied.

Isagi looked shocked. "Are you serious? But Ego's rules."

You shrugged. "He'd never find out, it's not like he’d be there during it." Isagi shuttered at the thought. "Look, as a friend and manager who wants to see the team do well, I'm offering to help. If we don't tell anybody else there's no way we'd get in trouble."

You could see the gears turning in Isagi's head. Best case scenario, he was thinking, he has sex with the hot manager and goes on a scoring streak. Worst case scenario, his play doesn't get any better, but he at least got to fuck the hot manager. He liked those odds.

"Okay, sure. If you really don't mind."

It was just too easy.

You agreed to meet at your place, as your roommate was spending the night at her boyfriend's. Isagi looked anxious as you led him to your room.

"This is supposed to be helping to relax," you commented with an amused smile. You laid on your bed, propped up on your elbows. Isagi eyed you hungrily, but his body was still tense.

"I'm still half expecting Ego to pop out and lecture me," Isagi replied.

You chuckled. "Gonna spend the whole night thinking about Ego or are you gonna come over here and let me take care of you?"

The latter sounded much more appealing, obviously so Isagi crawled on top of you on the bed. "If you change you min-"

"Shh," you pressed your finger to his lips. "Don't stress, just kiss me." You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him into you. His kiss was tentative at first, but quickly melted into comfortable rhythm.

Isagi palmed your tits, lightly grinding against you. He was hard already, making you smirk. You slid down between your bodies, squeezing him through his sweats. He gasped into the kiss.

"So sensitive,"you noted. "It's been a minute, huh?

"Too long," Isagi replied, pulling his shirt off. You followed suit, stripping yourself from the waist up. He eyed you hungrily, body already relaxing at the sight of you.

"Let's not keep you waiting any longer, yeah?" You hooked your finger into his sweats, tugging them down. His size was average, but he was flushed a pretty shade of pink. He teased your entrance with his tip, nudging at your clit. You let out a pleasant hum.

Isagi pressed in sigh you with a satisfied size. "God, you feel good." His head fell back as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. He felt like he had to warm up, afraid he would bust too soon after going so long without.

Eventually he picked up his pace. He cupped the back of one of your knees, pressing it up to your chest. The angle pressed him deeper inside you, hitting a spot that made you breathless. "Mmm, so good Isagi."

He cock twitched at his name on your tongue. It spurred him on, snapping his hips faster. The base of him brushed against your clit, building your pleasure with each thrust. You wrapped your arms around his muscular back, letting your nails rake down his skin. The sensation sent Isagi over the edge.

He let out a low curse as his hips stuttered and he spilled inside you. The sensation of warmth filling you, along with the throb of his cock set you over the edge. You sighed contently into his neck as he slowly rode out your highs.

"Thanks for that," Isagi said later as you both redressed.

"You can thank me once you start playing better," you teased.

Low and behold, Isagi scored twice the very next game. He shot a lopsided grin as the team celebrated the win, though no one knew how you were the key to the success. Another one crossed off the list.

****

A few weeks later, your next opportunity arose. The team was lamenting about upcoming midterms, which they have to pass in order to be eligible play on the team.

"I'm screwed for my economics test," Bachira groaned at the end of practice.

"Don't ask me for help, dude. I gotta focus on my stats test or I'm screwed," Karasu replied, leaving Bachira to groan in the grass.

"Are you taking economics with professor Johnson?" you asked.

Bachira perked up. "Yes, he's the worst."

You nodded sympathetically. "For real, I struggled in his class last semester. I could help you, if you want. I still have some old notes."

"Seriously? That would be awesome," Bachira replied.

You met up the following evening at the library. You found a quiet spot deep into the stacks so you and Bachira could focus. He was not kidding when he said he was bad, but slowly you got him up to speed.

You weren't sure if you were reading into things because you had an ulterior motive, but you swore you felt tension. Perhaps it was the setting, the way you had to lean into to each other and speak in hushed voices. Your thighs brushed each others, fingertips brushing the other's hands as you pointed out facts on the page. The scent of him filling your nose, fresh and a little sweet.

"y/n," Bachira said softly, amusement clear in his voice. "You're staring."

You blushed, but used the moment to your advantage. "You're a little distracting."

"Oh yeah?" His hand brushed against your leg. "What should we do about that?"

You leaned in closer, allowing him to brush higher up your thigh. "You wanna take a little break, Bachira?" Your voice was a sweet hum in his ear.

"Was just thinking I need to thank you for the help," Bachira replied. He ghosted over your center, cat-like eyes flicking to yours for any signs of discomfort. When you should none, he applied a little pressure. "I've got some ideas, but might be better somewhere more... private."

"I like the sound of that," you murmured, already feeling yourself growing slick. "But we have to be careful, if someone sees we could get in trouble with Ego."

"Well, Isagi's visting his family tonight, so I have the place to myself," Bachira replied, lazily rubbing light circles over you. "As you for everyone else, it's late now and I doubt we'll see the guys on campus. Plus, I can keep a secret."

You smiled wickedly. "Let's do it."

You both scrambled to pack up your books. You weaved through the stacks, occupied by only a few devout studiers. It was later than you thought, night fully set in. You were grateful for the cover of darkness as you snuck to Bachira's car, both giggling.

Bachira drove with his hand on your thigh, teasing you lightly. Something about the gleam in his eye when he looked at you made you squirm, like you knew he had something good in store. Mercifully, the apartment he shared with Isagi was not far from campus.

You were on each other once the door closed behind you. Bachira kissed you as he led you back to his bedroom. Both your shirts were already off by the time you hit the bed. Bachira climbed on top of you, kissing you playfully as he continued to tease you through your leggings.

Bachira pulled away from the kiss, breathless and pupils wide. "Are you okay with toys?"

"Hmm?" you couldn't comprehend his question through the fog of lust.

Bachira dug through his nightstand, pulling out a little vibrator. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together at the thought of Bachira using that on you. "Can I?"

"Please."

Bachira grinned, sliding your leggings off and returning to you kissing you. He ran his hands up and down your body, giving extra attention to your tits and thighs. Eventually, he flicked on the vibrator, lazily dragging it from the valley of your chest down to the apex of your thighs. He stopped just above your throbbing clit before dragging it back up to the top.

He chuckled into the kiss as you squirmed when the vibrator ran across your nipples. He slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you damn near stupid as the little bullet went back down your body.

You let out a little sigh into his mouth as he lightly pressed the vibrator to your clothed clit. He teased you with it, giving just enough pressure for it to feel good, but not enough to do anything. Any time he suspected pleasure was building, he pulled it away. Your hips bucked, desperate for more.

"Bachira," he name a plea on your lips.

"I'm being mean huh? Teasing you like this?" he pressed the vibrator harder into you for emphasis, savoring your gasp. "I'm supposed to be thanking you."

Bachira slid your underwear off, licking his lips at the string of arousal. "Fuck, I think I might need a little taste." He settled between your legs, licking up your slit. Your back arched as he sucked at your clit, messy and eager. He flicked the vibrator back on, alternating between licking at your clit and letting the vibrator do the work.

It took only a few moments of Bachira between your legs to send a surge of pleasure through your body. You clawed at the sheets, gasping his name as the feeling consumed you.

"Tastes so sweet," Bachira mused, licking his lips. He wriggled out of his pants, cock heavy and leaking. "Ready for more?" You nodded, eagerly pulling him closer. Bachira ran his cock leisurely through your slick folds. He flicked the vibrator on, running in down the length of him. He let out a low moan as it brushed against his tip.

He slid the vibrator between the two of you. You jolted as the buzz hit your swollen clit. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he continued to rut himself through your slick. You could feel Bachira's cock twitching against you and all you wanted was to feel that inside.

"Need you, fuck-," you gasped. "Inside, please."

Bachira obliged with a grin. "Can't say no to that." He slid into you with ease, on account of how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of your wrapped around him.

Bachira snapped his hips, gradually picking up the pace. He loved the little sounds you made, proof of how desperate and sensitive you were. He wanted to push it further, flicking the vibrator on and pressing it against your throbbing clit.

You gasped, feeling over stimulated already. The feeling building in you was white hot. "Bachira I'm gonna-" you choked out a sob as gushed all over him, soaking his lower half.

"Fuck that was hot," Bachira replied, fucking you harder through it. He couldn't hold out longer, seeing you soaked and wriggling beneath him. You felt his cock throb as he filled you with a satisfied sigh.

"Sorry about your sheets," you said when you both caught your breath.

Bachira scoffed. "I'm not even slightly upset about that."

You ended up staying the night at his place, but went to practice the next day separately, as if nothing happened. A few days later, Bachira happily announced he passed his test to the team, throwing a sly wink your way. 4 down, 6 to go.

****

It had been a few weeks since the Bachira hook up and, honestly, you had half a mind to just forget the whole plan and go back for seconds. However, the competitive part of you couldn't give up a bet. Not to mention, you were interested in what the other contenders had to offer.

The semester was winding down and you found yourself at a party at the soccer house. Everyone was celebrating finals ending and a season that was successful so far. You wanted to get in one more before break started to put you in a good place to complete the challenge by next year.

As you were scanning the crowd for prospects, Reo caught your eye. He was chatting with Nagi, of course, and you got a weird feeling that they had been looking at you first. Talking about you. You gave Reo an inviting smile, who whispered soemthing to Nagi before jogging over to you.

"Hey, y/n," Reo greeted.

"Did I catch you staring, Reo?" you teased lightly.

He grinned, throwing his hands up. "You caught me. Nagi and I were talking about you, not going to lie."

"Oh? What about?" you asked.

Reo shifted on his feet, a nervous tell. His eyes flickered back to Nagi, who was watching with a flicker of interest across his normally bored expression.

"It's kinda weird."

You shrugged. "I like weird."

"Well," he began, "Nagi and I... we've always wanted to share a girl. You know, a bucket list sorta thing."

"Reo, are you asking me to have a threesome with you and Nagi?" you couldn't keep the smirk out of your voice.

Reo chuckled, "Well, yeah. I know it's random and kinda weird. Don't feel obligated to say yes obviously. We just... think you're hot and cool and were wondering if you'd be down."

What a gift you'd just been given. You didn't wanna look too eager though.

"I'm down, but..." you feigned concern, "Ego's rules... If people found out, it be a disaster."

"Nagi and I won't tell a soul, we promise," Reo assured you. "We're not trying to get you in trouble - or ourselves for that matter."

That easily, you found yourself in Reo and Nagi's shared place off campus. Most of the guys either rented little apartments or shared a house with 4 other guys, but Reo and Nagi a whole house to themselves. Unsurprising, given Reo's wealth. He could easily have the place to himself, but, again, unsurprisingly, he'd rather share with Nagi.

"Wow," you couldn't prevent the word from slipping out as you saw the massive bed Nagi was currently lounging on. He wore grey sweats and a t shirt and looked good enough to already get you excited.

"Glad I went for the king size now," Reo said, ushering you into the room.

"I'm glad you went for it too," Nagi replied, stretching his long limbs. His shirt lifted up, a sliver of skin above his boxers peaking out. Good lord.

"So, how do you wanna..." you trailed of as you sat down on the bed.

"Kiss Nagi," Reo instructed you, authority trickling into his voice.

"Yeah, c'mere," Nagi smiled lazily. Didn't have to tell you twice. You crawled over to the white haired man, who grabbed you when you were in reach. You let out a surprised giggle as he pulled you on top of him, before his lips found yours.

His mouth moved against yours with ease, tongue slipping to brush yours. His large hands settled on your ass, giving little squeezes every now and then. You wiggled your hips in approval, loving the feel of him beneath you. You could feel Reo's on the two of you, watching hungrily as his best friend slid his hands up your shirt.

You sat up, allowing him to pull it off you. You rolled your hips against him, getting him hard beneath you. "Hot," he said, running his hands up your sides before cupping you tits.

You glanced over at Reo, who was obviously hard at the sight of you and Nagi. The way he looked at you two made you cunt throb. "Don't keep us waiting, Reo," you beckoned to him.

The purpled haired man was happy to have an excuse to join. The bed dipped at he crawled over to you. You cupped his face and kissed him while Nagi toyed with you tits. You let out a little gasp as he squeezed your nipples.

"You're hoggin her," Nagi huffed, pulling you back to kiss him again. Reo laid down next to him and you went between kissing both men. Then, when you pulled back for some air, they turned and kissed each other. And fuck it was hot.

You couldn't resist joining in. The three of you kissed, a tangle of lips and tongues. Clothes were shed, hands across bodies, until everyone was breathless.

"Want you on my face," Nagi drawled.

"Think you could give me head during?" Reo asked. He'd been palming himself since you and Nagi started kissing and was desperate for some relief

You nodded eagerly and everyone shifted into a position that would allow everyone to be satisfied. Nagi licked a stripe up your cunt, making you gasp. He attached his lips to neglected clit, sucking. You tried to focus on Reo as you leaned over to kiss down his body. You swirled your tongue over his flushed, dripping tip. You licked up his length before taking him in your mouth.

Reo let out a content sigh as your cheeks hollowed around him. He ran his fingers through your hair, holding it out of your face as your bobbed your head on him. Meanwhile, Nagi continued to devour you, fucking you with his tongue. The moan the escaped you vibrated down Reo's cock, making him groan.

The sound of both of you being pleasured egged Nagi on, his tongue moving faster across your slit and your clit. It only took a few moments more for your to fall apart, cunt clenching around his wriggling tongue. The sensation of you cumming while sucking him off pushed Reo over the edge. His head feel back as he released on your tongue with a satisfied groan.

"Ride me?" Nagi asked when you caught your breath. It wasn't lost on you that Nagi found away to be involved in this without physically exerting himself much, but with what he could do with his tongue, you weren't mad.

Reo slid his hand down your body, wanting a taste of you. He lazily fingered your cunt open. "Fuck, you got her soaked Nagi," he breathed. "Bet she's gonna feel amazing." He sucked your release off his fingers with a pleasant hum.

You were straddling Nagi's hips, holding the base of his cock to line him up to you. He had his hands behind his head, watch you with a lazi grin as you slid down on him. You breathed through your teeth as you stretched around the size of him. He was easily one of the biggest so far.

"Mmm, just like that," Nagi drawled as you rolled your hips. Reo slid behind you, wraps his arms around to play with your tits. He tweaked your nipples, making you yelp. "Oh she liked that, Reo. Can feel her squeezing me."

Reo chuckled against your skin, continuing to palm your breast while your rode his best friend. Nagi cock twitched at the side of Reo kissing and touching you. "I think she'll really like this," nearly purred. His hand slid down your body, finding your aching clit.

"Fuck," you cried as he rubbed quick circles over the bud. Your hips stuttered as you tried to keep pace despite the bubble of pleasure growing in your tummy. Nagi finally decided to help you out, gripping your hips to fuck up into you. The sensation of him deep inside you as Reo toyed with your clit burst that bubble, euphoria flooding your veins.

Nagi fucked you through the orgasm, chasing his own high. You were totally spent, but that didn't stop of the boys from playing with you. A familiar sensation built up, but you didn't even have the voice to warn them before gushing all over.

"Fucking hell," Nagi groaned at the sight of you squirting on his cock. His release hit him immediately, pressing deeply into you one last time to fill you.

"God that was hot," Reo said. He helped you off Nagi, as your legs were like jelly. He ran to get a towel, helping you both clean up.

"So, did that live up to your bucket list expectations?" you asked.

Both men grinned. "Definitely."

Little did they know, they helped you with a list of your own.

****

You let out a sigh as you checked your phone. Isagi lost his wallet. Again. Practice had ended about an hour ago, but he knew you'd be around organizing all the equipment, which is why you got a text begging you to check the locker room. Of course you would, but not without telling him he's an idiot in desperate need of some air tags.

Typically you didn't go in the locker rooms, since that is where the guys changed, but with practice long over, you felt it was safe. You swept through the few rows of lockers, spying no wallet. You were texting Isagi as much when someone stepped out from the shower area.

"Y/n?" Otoya questioned. He was clad in nothing but a towel, which was hanging dangerously low on his hips. His hair was wet and messy, water droplets were rolling down his toned body. You fought the urge to lick your lips.

"Shit, I'm sorry Otoya," you said, "I thought everyone left. Isagi asked for me to look for something."

He chuckled, seemingly unbothered he was practically naked in front of you. "Let me guess, he lost his wallet."

You nodded. "You'd be right. I'm really sorry, though, I didn't mean to intrude."

He shrugged. "No worries, it doesn't bother me. Hell, I may have asked you to join me if I knew you were here." He tossed it out like a joke, but you could sense a current of truth.

You knew Otoya was a bit of a flirt, so you felt like it was worth the risk to be bold back. "That's too bad, I would have absolutely taken you up on that."

Otoya's eyes widened, clearly surprised his stupid flirting was actually getting him somewhere. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," you nodded, "I mean, look at you. I can't say no to that."

"I mean... I'm thinking I actually need another shower," Otoya replied, "If you care to join."

"Only if you think we won't get caught... you know how Ego is," you replied. This would definitely be risky, even though everyone should be long gone. It was a thrilling thought, pushing the boundary of what you could get away with.

"I'm the last guy here," Otoya assured you, "And I won't tell. I don't Ego on my ass more than he already is."

"Guess I won't be needing these, then." You slipped out of your leggings. "Or this." You pulled off your shirt, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Shit, I think I might be dream." Otoya eyed you hungrily. You giggled as he took your hand, pulling you to the showers. Luckily, Ego put a lot of money into the team's facilities, so the showers were actually quite nice - nothing like the typical grimy locker room showers.

Otoya stepped inside the stall, turning the shower on to a nice, warm temperature. He turned to you, beckoning for you to join him. You closed the curtain behind you, pulling him into the small dry are for a kiss. Otoya happily wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his body. His muscles were warm and firm against you and you could already feel him growing hard through the towel.

He pulled away from you, dropping the towel with a confident grin. You could see why - he was well endowed. He stepped under the water, reaching out his hand to you. "C'mon, I wanna get you wet," he said with a teasing smirk.

You laughed coyly as you shed your bra and panties, Otoya's eyes on you the whole time. The warmth of the water pulled a sigh from you as you returned to kissing him. He pulled away, grinning wickedly as an idea hit him. He lathered up some soap in his hands, rubbing it across your tits.

"You look good like this," he mused at the bubbles coating your skin. The soap allowed his hands to guide over you easily, making it more fun to play with your tits as he kissing you.

He pressed you against the stall wall, his thigh sliding between your legs. You mewled at the feeling of his strong muscle against your needy cunt. He slipped his free hand between you two, toying with your clit. You hummed pleasantly when he slid tow fingers inside, working you open for him.

"God, you're soaked," he said, voice strained. "Can't wait any longer."

"Don't keep me waiting then." You nipped at his lips as he pumped his length, before pressing into you. You gripped his shoulders as he split you open. He gave long, slow strokes as you adjusted to the feel of each other. His pupils flared open as he watched himself slide in and out of out.

Before you knew it, he cupped his hand under your knee, holding it up so he could get deeper inside you. You moaned in satisfaction at the feeling. You knew you should be quiet - you were still in the team locker room even if they should be gone, but you couldn't help yourself.

Otoya loved it, pumping into you harder to pull more noises out of you. His eyes flickered to the detachable shower head, a wicked gleam shining in them. He took it from the wall, aiming the gush of water at your clit.

"Shit," you cried out at the sudden surge of stimulation. "S-so good." You were breathless as your nails dug into him, desperate to hold on.

"Don't hold back," he panted. "Wanna hear you cumming my name." Your leg wrapped around him in response, pulling him closer as you tipped over the edge. Your orgasm hit you hard, the added stimulation of the shower head making it intense. If it wasn't for Otoya holding you up, your knees would have given out.

The sound of his name on your lips as your squeezed him broke his stamina. Otoya slowed as he milked his orgasm, filling you with all he had.

You were both flushed and giddy as you cleaned each other up in the shower. Otoya tossed you a towel after, grinning. "Any time you need a shower buddy, give me a call."

"Will do," you smiled. 3 more to go.

****

The second semester was progressing and while you only had 3 men left to get through, you felt the pressure to get this bet completed. You were still concerned about Rin, and decided you would tackle him last. You were keeping your eyes and ears open for opportunities for the other two, which Yukimiya thankfully gave you.

You shared a favorite band, who were dropping a new album. Yukimiya invited you over to his place to listen to it. He had record player and a great set of speakers, making the music sound heavenly. You both sat on his bed, letting the songs wash over you.

"I think this is their best album yet," Yukimiya commented as it came to an end. You nodded in agreement as you both launched into a discussion about the music. All the while, you drifted closer to each other, thighs and hands brushing each other. Even if it wasn't for the bet you were working on, you would feel drawn Yukimiya. He was handsome, sweet, and fun to talk with.

"What?" you asked when you noticed him staring at you.

"Nothing," he said with a sheepish grin, "You're just pretty."

You didn't have to fake the blush or the smile that crept across your face. "Thanks, for what it's worth, you're cute."

"Cute enough to break some rules?" Yukimiya suggested playfully.

You feigned offense. "Did you invite me here just for that?"

"Not just for that," Yukimiya teased back, "But I would be lying if I didn't it's something I wanted."

"And I said I wanted it too?" you dropped your voice to a slightly more sultry tone. Yukimiya shifted closer to you at the sound.

"I would say if no one finds out, it doesn't matter if a rule is broken."

"Mmm, I like the way you think." He cupped your face a pulled you in for a kiss. He was slightly more reserved than the other men you'd kissed, but still confident and purposeful. Like he wanted to enjoy himself, but not rush through it. There was something about the slowness that drove you mad, desperate for more.

"Someone's eager," Yukimiya mused as your ground against him. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, swollen from kissing. "Guess I should get you out of these." He took your shirt in his hand, pulling it off, before peeling off your pants.

"This what you wanted?" He asked as he rubbed light circles over your clothed cunt. A bemused smile played at his lips as he felt your underwear growing damp.

"Want more," you breathed, kissing at his neck as he toyed with you.

"Look at yourself," Yukimiya said, turning your so your back was flush his front. You were facing the mirror across from his bed. Your skin was flushed, the wet spot on your panties glaringly obvious. Yukimiya was peering at you from over your shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "So pretty when you're needy."

He pulled your underwear to the side, sliding his fingers through your wetness. He let out a pleased sigh as he slide two digits in, lazily stroking. Once they were coated in your slick, pulled them out to toy with your clit.

"You're good at that," you huffed breathlessly as he worked you up with his fingers. Going back and forth between fingering your cunt and stimulating your clit. The slow, steady increase in his pace had your cunt drooling and desperate for release.

"Fuck you're soaked," Yukimiya groaned, his eyes were glued to the mirror, watching his fingers slide in and out of you. "Gonna cum for me? Make a mess?"

"P-please, want it Yuki," you babbled, so close to the high you wanted. Yukimiya guided you there easily, cursing as your cunt clenched around his fingers and your body shuddered. He licked his lips watching you drip on to his lap.

He was already shifting beneath you, slipping himself out of his pants and boxers. Now he was feeling desperate, wanting to know what it felt like to be buried inside you. "Not done with you yet."

"Good, because neither am I," you replied. You leaned forward and arched your back, making it easier for him to slide inside you. You both mewled with pleasure. You rocked your hips, feeling his cock slide through your walls. You throbbed at the sight of you fucking yourself on him in the mirror.

Yukimiya couldn't tear his eyes away either, though he was looking down directly at where he slid inside you. He wanted more, to make you cum harder on him. You heard him spit before you felt it drop on your ass, warm and wet. He gripped your ass with one hand, while a finger of the other circled the tight hole.

"Oh fuck-" you gasped as he pressed his finger in your ass. That addition alone sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making each grind of your hips more intense. Yuki was transfixed at the sight of him filling you, loving the sounds you made.

You didn't last long after that, his name spilling from your lips as you practically collapsed from the intensity of the climax that hit you. It was light and heavy at the same time, making your head swim.

"Shit y/n," Yukimiya groaned, his cock twitching inside you. "You're like heaven." His head feel back with a groan as he spilled inside you, a beautiful sight for you to watch in the mirror.

Yukimiya helped clean you up before you parted ways with promises to discuss the album more when you weren't so... distracted. A surge of excitement hit you when you realized how close you were to winning.

****

The Blue Lock team made the playoffs, so, naturally, a party was in order. The house rented by some of the team members was filled with players and their friends, yourself included. Everyone was a bit drunker than normal, celebrating a successful season and boasting about all the goals they would score in the championship game.

You chuckled as you observed the scene, practically tasting the testosterone from all the posturing. Normally, you would have thought the team house was way too risky, given all the other guys around that could be potential witnesses. But tonight, there was enough of a crowd - and more than enough alcohol - that you were certain, given the right circumstance, you could pull it off. Your body tingled with excitement as you considered your options.

"Hey, y/n," Karasu grinned. He loved to be a little flirty with you, even though it's been months since you hooked up with him. "Were playing spin the bottle in the basement. Wanna come?"

Well, that was certainly an opening. "Sure."

You followed him down to the basement, where a sizable circle was formed on the floor. Some of the faces your recognized, some you didn't. Your eyes flickered Chigiri, who smiled shyly at you. You gave him a coy smile as you settled into a spot.

It took awhile for the bottle to work its way around to you. It was an endless cycle of spinning glass, teasing and giggling as the match made their way to the closet, where they spent 5 minutes kissing. Though, with the flush and panting of a few that left you wondered if they were using their time for a bit more.

When it was your turn, you had to hold in the cheer you wanted to let out as the bottle settled on exactly who you wanted. "Guess it's my lucky day," Chigiri flirted. You grinned; if only he knew how true that was for you.

You both made for the closet, sliding into a heated darkness as the door shut behind you. You felt Chigiri's hands on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His lips were soft and almost sweet. You wouldn't be surprised if he was wearing some sort of cherry chapstick.

Chigiri was a little shy and tentative as he kissed you, which somehow spurred you on more. You stepped forward, pressing him against the wall. He moaned into your mouth as your body rubbed against his. The sound of it - practically a whimper - unlocked something in you.

You pulled away, just barely able to see the needy look Chigiri gave you through the darkness. "Are you hard, Chigiri?" you purred, ghosting your hand across his jeans.

"S-shit, I'm sorry." he mumbled.

"No need to apologize." You traced circles over the bulge in his pants. "Makes me wish we had more time. I could take care of that for you."

"Really?" he perked up.

"Of course," you replied. You nuzzled against his neck, kissing him. "Wanna make you feel good." You could feel him gulp at your words.

"Maybe...maybe we could go to my room after?" he was struggled to keep his voice even with how your lips brushed against his skin.

"We'd have to be sneaky," you replied, "Don't want us getting in trouble, you know?" Chigiri, unsurprisingly, was on board with whatever you wanted. You a made to go back to the circle, where Chigiri would go back to his room after a round. You would wait 3 more rounds before joining him, as to not arouse suspicion.

That plan led you to Chigiri's room about 10 minutes later, where you found him waiting on the bed for you. You practically pounced on him, not holding back how deeply you wanted to kiss him. Chigiri settled on the bed beneath you, letting you take control.

You stripped him down to his boxers, peppering kissing along his exposed skin. You sat back, admiring how Chigiri looked: skin flushed, hair haloed around him, and a needy gleam in his eye.

"You're so pretty, Chigiri," you hummed, running your finger down his chest. You toyed with the waistband of his boxers, watching him squirm.

He blushed at your compliment. He's not used to being called pretty as a guy, but he liked how it sounded coming from you. He liked even more that you were dipping your hand into his boxers, running your finger down his hard length.

"Bet you'd look even prettier cumming for me," you mused, pulling his boxers off. His tip was flushed a pretty shade of pink and already leaking. "Would you like that?"

"Please," he urged, voice strained with anticipation. You obliged, spitting into your hand and pumping him. You paid extra attention to his tip, swirling your finger over the tip and spreading his pre. You leaned down to press a kiss to it, making him whimper. The sound, the desperation caused your own arousal to pool between your legs.

"So sensitive," you hummed. You pumped his faster, giving an extra squeeze to work him up. You pushed to the point of the edge, just to slow down and hear him whine. You could keep it up for hours, but the desperate way he looked at you wore through your patience.

"F-fuck y/n, 'm-m close," Chigiri stumbled over his words.

"Cum for me, Chigiri," you purred. You watched as his tummy dipped from the effort of his release. He whimpered loudly as he came all over you hand and his tummy. "Good boy."

Chigiri let out a little whine at your words. He already getting hard again as he watched you lick up his release. You made your way back to his lips. You finally started to remove your clothes, letting Chigiri catch his breath and feel your body. By the time you were bare, he was rock hard again.

****

The energy in practice was tense, despite the team having won the semi finals and punched their ticket to the championships the night prior. The game, however, had been way too close, entering over time. Blue Lock got won by the skin of their teeth, thanks to the tie breaking goal by Rin.

"You idiots better not play like that in the finals," Rin snapped at the end of practice.

Barou bristled. "I could win the whole damn championship myself."

"Oh yeah? We only won yesterday because of my two goals," Rin fired back. "If it wasn't for me you'd be watching the championship from the stands."

"We all contributed, Rin," Isagi intervened. "You acting like a pompous ass isn't going to win us the championship."

"Nobody asked you, Isagi," Rin practically spot.

"Don't waste your breath, Isagi," Karasu butted in, a mean glint in his eyes. "Rin's just miserable because the only place he can score is on the field."

The group snickered as Rin's scowl deepened. You were surprised at the insinuation - was Rin a virgin? It was somewhat hard to believe given his good looks as status as one of the best athletes in campus but that look on his face...

"Whatever," Rin grumbled, heading away from the group. "When you all have to watch me score a hat trick in the finals, you'll wish you trained more instead of acting like fools."

Everyone dispersed after that and you waited a few minutes before following Rin to where you knew he was heading - the yoga room. He was the only one on the team who used it, so you knew you'd find him alone. You joined him on occasion, which he tolerated because you were pretty good at it and didn't bother him.

You knew this was your only shot and, frankly, the only time you felt nervous in this whole ordeal. If anyone was going to say no to you and blow this whole thing it would be Rin. But it was now or never.

"Hey Rin," you greeted. He was already seated on a mat. He gave you a grunt in reply. "Sorry those guys were such assholes to you."

Rin shrugged. "They're idiots. I don't care." Something in his voice told you he might care despite his cool exterior, so you continued.

"They are," you nodded, "But if you wanted those idiots to be wrong, I could help."

His eyes slid to you. "What do you mean?"

"The whole not scoring off the field thing," you replied. "Maybe I'm overstepping, but if what they said it true and you don't want it to be, I would be down."

"Are you offering to sleep with me?" Rin asked. "I don't need pity, you know."

Shit. You had to stay calm. "It's not pity, you're a good looking guy and the best on the team. Why wouldn't I?" You could see the slightest shift in his eyes, so you continued. "Besides, these guys think they're so smart. It would make them look stupid if they were dogging you for something that wasn't even true."

Rin was silent, mulling your offer over. His gaze was intense, but you knew you couldn't look away, couldn't show weakness. Rin was a perfectionist, if he thought you weren't up to his level, he would certainly say no.

"Okay," he said finally. You bit back a cheer. "But I don't want them knowing it was you. I don't need them thinking I got pity sex."

You could have kissed him for making it so easy. "That's fine with me." You made arrangements to meet at his place later that night. He was not one for wasting any time, apparently. His apartment was just how you expected: neat and orderly.

He sat on his bed, looking up at you with a look in his eye you'd never seen before.

"Are you nervous, Rin?" you asked, incredulous.

His brow furrowed. "No." But he couldn't stop the tint from from rising in his cheek.

"We don't have to you, know you," you said. Sure, it would suck to lose, but you wouldn't want it at the cost of making him uncomfortable.

"I'm not nervous," Rin reiterated. "Let's just get it going, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, but sat on the bed next to him. "So romantic."

The kiss was a bit tentative and stiff at first, but Rin slowly warmed to your rhythm. You spent some time like that, just letting him get used to you and not forcing anything too soon. Eventually, Rin's hands ventured to your body, feeling you up. You took it as permission to put your hands on him, climbing into his lap.

This kiss became progressively heated as you explored each other. You ground against him lightly, pulling stifled groans from Rin. He grunted impatiently, pulling at your clothing. You obliged his silent demand, getting your top off. You leaned over him, forcing him to lay back on the bed. He kept his eyes cool and almost bored, but you didn't miss the bob in his throat as he took in the sight of your tits.

"How far have you gone?" you asked, sliding your hand up under his shirt.

"I've fingered a girl," he told you.

"Oh? So is the soccer guy good with his hands?" you teased.

"I guess you'll find out," he replied, pulling you into him. He was growing my sure of himself now, sliding his hand between your legs. He teased you through your leggings as your tongues tangled. Eventually, he found his way inside your pants.

He didn't disappoint by jamming his fingers into you, as you'd fear a virgin would. He took the time to work you wet, before slipping two fingers inside. He pumped them confidently, finding the spot that made your breath hitch.

"Sounds like the soccer guy is good with his hands," Rin mused. You didn't protest as you let him work you up to an orgasm. He rubbed your clit in circles as pleasure rushed your body, making you cry out.

"You know, I'm surprised you are virgin," you commented as you caught your breath. He was good at that.

Rin shrugged. "I was focused on soccer."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, which made Rin scowl. However, he didnt' seem to care anymore as your stripped both of you of the rest of your clothes. "I'm gonna need you to focus on me now," you flirted. "At least for a few minutes."

Rin scoffed. "I'll last more than a few minutes."

You grinned. "Well see about that."

You couldn't lie, it felt good to see the Rin Itoshi falter beneath you as you pressed him inside you. The warmth and wetness was like nothing he had ever felt before. As you moved your hips, there was a flare of panic in him that he would, in fact, spill in you immediately. However, he refused to give you the satisfaction, nor hurt his own pride.

"You feel good Rin," you moaned, putting a little extra emphasis on it just to tease him. Despite your teasing, Rin was holding together better than you expected. He quickly learned your rhythm, finding a way to match your thrusts and press deeper inside you. It shouldn't surprise you, given how Rin approaches soccer. He was never passive about anything, needing to be the best at any new skill he learned.

"Fuck," he huffed, a crack in his calm facade. The feeling of you squeezing him was quickly wearing down his restraint. You were egged on by this show of weakness, bouncing on him even faster. Rin, not to be bested, found your clit once against and circled the sensitive bud.

When your second release hit you, it broke Roin too. The feel of your already tight cunt clamping down on his aching length was too much. He cursed again, fingers digging into your skin as he spilled inside you.

"Honestly, I thought people were over hyping sex," Rin commented as you both redressed, "But now I kind of get why those guys are such idiots about it."

You snorted. "I'm just happy I could help." But even more happy that you just won yourself a bet.

****

"I have to know, who is the best!" Your friend demanded.

"I got a top five for you," you smiled wickedly, excited to share your findings.

In 5th place was Chigiri. You never thought you'd enjoy being the more dominant one, but you thoroughly enjoyed taking charge of Chigiri.

"Of course that pretty boy liked that," your friend grinned.

In 4th place Barou. A bit rough, but he knew how to make it good. Plus, he was by far the biggest on the team.

"Barou having the biggest dick is shocking to no one," you friend commented.

3rd place was a tie between Nagi and Reo. Because you had them together, it was too hard to place them individually. Despite how much you enjoyed yourself, it also felt unfair to rank them higher since they had partner. But fairness be damned they earned a spot on the list.

Your friend sighed wistfully, wishing that she too could find herself between Nagi and Reo.

2nd place went to Yukimiya, which did not shock your friend at all.

"He's so fine, I could have told he'd be up there. But, then who's number one?"

"The winner is..." you made a little drum roll. "Bachira." You had not been able to stop thinking about how he so easily he toyed your body. How easily he pulled out the best orgasm out of you.

"Damn, who knew he had it in him?" you friend commented. "Guess I'm not that surprised he's a freak, though."

"Definitely not surprising, but very appreciated." You smiled, not just because you were a couple hundred dollars richer from winning this bet, but because you were already plotting how you could get some seconds.

1K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 months ago

Text

purge me, purgatory

character: caleb warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudo-cest, noncon that turns into dubcon, a hint of dacryphilia, toxic masculinity, reader is a bit of a brat, size difference, manipulation, praise, caleb can get a little mean, nightmares, toxic relationship, power dynamics, pet names words: 5.3k

notes: i started working on this piece before caleb had even been released and i am SO glad i finally finished editing it. this also wasn’t supposed to be nearly as long as it became but alas, such is my curse (◞‸◟；) please heed the warnings above and stay safe!

You know Caleb has nightmares. You’ve seen the toll they take on him: exhaustion hanging heavy over hunched shoulders, staining sunken eyes with rings of purple, face twisted into a grimace as he collapses in the chair across the table from you, an untouched bowl of apple oatmeal steaming in front of him.

“Another one?” you’d always say, voice so kind and cautious, so wan and worried, bottom lip caught between your teeth muddling the question.

“Yeah,” he’d always respond, dragging a hand down his face as if he’s trying to scrub the fatigue from his features. “But don’t worry about me, pipsqueak. I’m okay.”

You know Caleb has nightmares—but they’ve never been as bad as this one.

Because tonight, it wakes you from your slumber, roused gently from sleep’s embrace by the rough whimpers seeping through the thin drywall separating your bedroom from his.

They sound painful, terrified little noises that keep catching on the uneven hitches of his breath or splintering sharply in his throat, unintelligible pleads sprinkled throughout, too muffled for you to make out the content and chopped up by hiccups.

A dull, dense pang sears through your heart at his yelped out No!, emotion growing thick in your throat and stinging your eyes. Fingers curling in linen, you hug your blanket to your chest, a feeble attempt to quell the ache.

There’s nothing worse than hearing your big brother—your one and only protector, always—in such intense agony.

And it isn’t stopping.

It’s too much to bear, your nose beginning to twitch with the threat of tears, and you kick your legs free from your duvet, bare feet hitting cold hardwood a moment later.

“C-Caleb?” your timid voice soaks into the wood of his bedroom door, followed by a soft rap of knuckles. “Caleb, are you alright?”

You’re met with a deafening silence, so thick you swear you can feel it weighing down on your chest, lungs crushed beneath the force, ears ringing with it.

“Caleb?” you press your ear flush to the door, eyes squeezed shut in concentration—the ruffling of sheets, the quiet groan of a bedspring, and then, a sniffle.

Something cracks in your chest, splits itself open so big and so wide it has you hunching over in pain, shoulders curling inward as if your body is trying to keep from tearing apart, one hand flattened over your sternum, the other gripping the brass doorknob.

Another sniffle and the knob is turning, the door falling open, your body stumbling through the threshold.

Your breathing is laboured, ragged and unevenly shoved from your lungs by a rapidly palpitating heart, a choked version of his name mangling itself in your throat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, but his voice is thin, weak, fragile, fingertips thumbing aggressively at his eyes, flesh mopping up remnants of teardrops.

It’s a tone of voice that you’ve never heard before, a tone that turns your blood to shards of ice in your veins, a tone that has unease blooming at the base of your spine, crawling up the notches one by one.

Because Caleb has never been afraid before; you’ve never seen Caleb afraid before. Out of the two of you, he’s always been the strong one, the brave one, the ‘I-can-and-I-will-take-on-anything’ one. He’s always been your guardian angel, your watchdog, your shield from all the bad and scary things in the world.

You thought he always would be—it is what he promised, after all.

But right now he looks so small surrounded by a crumpled sea of cotton, tufts of hair clinging to his sweat-drenched temples, muscles tense and rigid, like a predator ready to pounce at the slightest hint of danger.

It has you rushing towards him, falling into his waiting arms—trembling, but safe—and clutching at the collar of his worn t-shirt. Instinctively, your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck, cedar and peppermint streaming down your throat to fill your lungs with him. Your chest swells with his essence, held deep within your core, a natural sedative, your heart beginning to slow.

Home; your big brother will always smell like home.

You allow yourself another moment to steep in his scent before you finally pull back to look at him, hands clasped tightly around his neck, fingers toying with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck—a nervous habit for you, a calming sensation for him.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare,” he chuckles, but the word is shaky. “Pretty standard stuff. Nothin’ to be concerned about, pipsqueak.”

And his facade of nonchalant is good, but it isn’t good enough to fool you.

Frenetic eyes search his face, noting the sheen of cold sweat glazing his skin, the salt that has dried his lashes in thick spikes, the panic swimming in violet irises, concern weighting the corners of your lips.

“Caleb,” you begin slowly, “you woke me up.”

His brow furrows, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I…Did? Has that ever happened before?”

And that’s all it takes, really, to have Caleb switching into his Big Brother Mode, stern and straight to business, the need to know if he’s disrupted your precious sleep before much more important than the terror he was experiencing mere moments ago, as if your comfort matters more than his own.

“No,” your fingers push into his hair and his head dips, a hum vibrating in his chest. “This one was bad. I can tell.”

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, his neck curving more, his forehead nearly bumping against your collarbone.

“I’m worried it’ll come back the moment you close your eyes,” you admit, nails raking along his scalp, a shiver coursing through his body, following your ministrations.

“How many times do I gotta tell you? You don’t need to worry about me.”

And although it’s supposed to be a reprimand, it comes out soft, no heat to his voice as his head follows your touch, tilting to the side and allowing your fingers more room to move.

He has told you, many times before in many different tones, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever actually listen.

It isn’t your fault; you can’t help how much you care for him.

“Just because I don’t have to, doesn’t mean I won’t,” you huff out, a bite to your voice. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it; it isn’t going to stop me from caring about you, so you might as well—”

He looks up suddenly, brows knitted and eyes hard.

“Who’s the big brother here, huh?” violet scours your face, his gaze bright and sharp, searching for an answer. “Who’s job is it to take care of who?”

“It is our job to take care of each other,” you say, palms flattening to the sides of his head and inhibiting him from looking away. “It’s a joint effort, Caleb.”

The hinges of his jaw flex beneath your touch, a forceful sigh flaring his nostrils, his shoulders deflating a little in your stark stubbornness. An argument is nipping at the tip of his tongue, desperate to pry past his lips and reassert authority, but his teeth clench, molars grinding together.

“Why don’t I stay with you tonight?” you continue, thumb smoothing out that thick vein in his forehead. “Might make you feel better if you’re not alone—kind of like the way we used to make blanket forts in the living room during really bad thunderstorms.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that—”

“Come on,” you whisper, brushing a strand of damp hair back from his temple. “Let your little sister take care of you for once, yeah?”

“I’m fine—I’ll be fine—”

“You always say I make everything better, so…” you shrug, eyes searching his. “Let me make this better. Please.”

The sincerity straining your voice is potent, so much so that he swears he can feel it surrounding him in a suffocating embrace, soaking into his skin and permeating his muscles with something dense and heavy. It weighs him down, roots him to your aura, immobilizing him physically and mentally, the sweetest poison.

Swallowing, he looks away from your piercing eyes.

“It’s not—”

“Caleb,” you whine out, petulant, his name dripping out stringy and thick through a pout. “What is with this reluctance to allow me to take care of you every once in a while? It’s not fair.”

You sound like a fucking child, and for a moment Caleb is transported back to your shared youth, that telltale pout a lethal weapon he has encountered many times before, that telltale pout a lethal weapon he has yet to find a defence from, an antidote for.

And you, well, you know this—he knows you know this, your infamous brattiness finally making an appearance, usually a foolproof way to get what you want from him, even it if comes with a hefty dose of reprimand.

Your gaze, glassy and hard, is framed by furrowed brows, nose scrunched up in typical distaste.

His stare searches your own, and you hold your expression open for him—so willing, so wanting—his own eyes darkening with something you can’t quite place. A shiver skitters up your spine, but you swallow against the unease, continuing.

“I want to help,” you say. “Please.”

It isn’t right—he doesn’t need your help, shouldn’t need your help, fated to the role of big brother and, by extension, Man of the House; if anything, it should always be him comforting you.

Well, that, and the undeniable fact that having you in such close proximity—so intimate, sharing a bed after a nightmare—is tantalizing, and that makes it dangerous.

But he doesn’t know how to say any of that, how to thread those thoughts into sentences and push them from his disinclined tongue.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, because in the end you get your way, just like you always do—just like he always lets you.

“Alright,” he finally says, the word nothing more than a defeated huff of breath. “Alright.”

Disappointment sinks hard and heavy in his chest, and Caleb bites his cheek, disgusted with himself. It’s stupid to feel such dismay; he should be used to this by now. Maybe he had hoped that this time, he would be strong enough to deny you. How utterly silly of him to believe he was capable of such a feat.

“Gosh,” you roll your eyes, playfully nudging his nose with your own. “Don’t sound so excited.”

But your amusement is not contagious, Caleb’s expression steadfastly dismal, your smile fading as your brow crinkles in confusion.

“Hush, now,” he says, but his voice is gentle, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You need rest.”

The numbers glowing on his nightstand indicate that yes, you do need rest, you both need rest, and you nod, allowing Caleb to manhandle the two of you beneath his blankets.

The delicate scent of warm toffee and fresh orchid engulf him, one of Caleb’s strong arms curled around your waist, slotting your back up against his chest.

“Sleep,” he instructs, the order rumbling his ribs, his voice low and gruff. “My little protector.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, but your eyes slip shut. “You’ll be thanking me in the morning.”

But Caleb’s not so sure.

Because despite your presence being warm and comforting and full of home, Caleb can’t fucking sleep.

Because you are too fucking close. Abnormally close; inappropriately close, and it’s driving him up the Goddamn wall.

He’s tried everything—first shuffling away a little, just to put a couple inches of space between your bodies; close enough for you to still feel his presence, and for him to still feel yours, but not too close to be considered indecorous.

When that didn’t work, when your body sensed the loss and instinctually sought out his own, Caleb shoved himself so his back was pressed flush to the drywall—as far as he could possibly get without physically removing himself from the bed entirely—but that didn’t help, either.

Because you’re like a little magnet, attracted to his body heat, burrowing through wrinkled sheets to glue yourself to his form as if it is natural, normal, entirely intuitive.

Even in sleep, you’re greedy.

Caleb supposes he’s even worse.

Caleb could, realistically, turn away from you—present you with his sculpted back and protect his front from your unconscious attacks; or leave the bed entirely, opting to sleep on the too-small, too-scratchy sofa in the living room downstairs so he doesn’t have to worry about hands with minds of their owns—hands desperate to touch and grope and mark, hands that can’t keep to themselves. Caleb could wake you up and firmly insist that you go back to your own bed, exercising his Big Brother Authority and overruling any and all of your rebuttals and arguments—but he doesn’t, because he can’t.

Because he’s fucking weak, weak to his own wicked whims, a slave to his sins, drowning in his own desire. It’s too good of an opportunity to give up, his deepest, darkest indulgences presented to him on a platinum platter, crafted by the devil himself. And Caleb isn’t strong enough to resist it’s enticing allure, ironclad willpower melted to sticky silver in the heat of your body, seeping from your flesh into his, poisoning his blood and his brain.

That’s what you do to him; you eat up his logic and spit it back out, mangled and gross, you consume his highly prized self respect and military-grade discipline and reduce him to something desperate and degenerate.

And eventually, finally, his worst nightmare comes true.

It’s stifling in his bed, the fabric of his t-shirt damp with sweat—yours, his, does it matter?—and plastered to his body. His tongue has turned to sand in his mouth, dry and grating and heavy. Swallowing does nothing to alleviate the discomfort, the action rough and sticky, the gummy walls of his throat sticking together with the motion.

Water would be nice, but there’s no way for Caleb to slip from your embrace—a thigh thrown over his hip, a palm pressed to his sternum—without ruining your peaceful slumber.

And you do look oh-so-peaceful; so serene, so ethereal, so fucking breathtaking that it’d be a crime to spoil such a sight.

Moonbeams stream through the window, painting you in strokes of translucent silver. It catches on the beads of sweat adorning your neck, dewdrops that glitter with the steady throb of your jugular, and Caleb feels saliva begin to flood the underside of his tongue, thick and slimy.

Sweat has water in it, doesn’t it?

It happens before he even has a chance to think it through, a primal desire his body knew needed to be met, tongue unfurling from its cavern slow and sick to trace along that jagged pulse.

Your neck arches into his taste, offering him more—such a good little sister, you are—and he takes, a slave to temptation, tongue flattening against your flesh and licking one long, wide stripe from the notch of your collarbone to the hinge of your jaw.

It’s delicious, better than anything he could’ve ever imagined, and Caleb laps at you again, harder this time, rougher this time.

Your essence, salty sweat and bitter perfume, explodes on his tastebuds, and something rattles, roars to life, deep within his chest. It ignites a hunger within him that cannot be sated— dark, desirous, depraved as it claws at his sternum, no matter how much he takes, it always wants more, his desperate attempt to feed it only working to make it more voracious.

It awakens the monster rooted at the core of his soul, a sordid creature borne of something illicit and sinister and wrong many years ago. It sparks the ever-simmering addiction kindling in his rotten, charred heart—a craving that flares higher, burns brighter with every passing second, leaving him intoxicated and stupid, drunk on your aura.

If he doesn’t cut it out he’s going to lick your skin raw—how many licks to get to your sugary sweet center?—your saccharine sweat staining his tongue.

His mouth latches over your collarbone and sucks, tongue swirling around the knob as his teeth scrape, nipping superficially. Tiny tangles of capillaries snap beneath the force, violet flooding the tissues beneath the thin barrier of skin—and oh, how sweet your blood must taste, how shameful to have it trapped beneath your flesh.

A soft moan vibrates in your throat as Caleb seals the mark with another heavy lave, pressing a singular kiss to the rapidly developing bruise. Pulling back slightly, violet eyes sweep across the mess he’s made of your flesh, fleeting marks that will fade much too quickly for his liking.

A callused thumb ghosts over the bloom, an involuntary whimper catching in his throat.

“So pretty,” he breathes to himself, caressing the mark again.

A delicate shiver quivers through your flesh, procured by his airy words, and Caleb coos, tongue washing over your skin again in a crude caress, his hot breath cool against the glaze of saliva he’s painted in its wake.

“Y’like that?” he whispers, the question barely more than a wisp wafting over your soaked skin. “Y’want me to do it again?”

You answer with the softest mewl and a groan rumbles his ribcage, his hips snuggling between your spread thighs, a dainty wheeze pressed from your chest as his weight bears down on you.

His tongue lolls out from between his teeth, thick strings of drool dripping off the tip to drizzle along your neck, sopped up a mere moment later as the slick muscle rolls along your flesh, following the scrape of his front teeth.

Another gentle tremble ripples through your form—such precious responses to your big brother’s mouth!—and he runs his teeth along the curve of your throat again, revelling in how such simple actions can pull such gorgeous reactions from you, entirely subconscious.

That must mean you like it, right? Such responses clearly connote your enjoyment, don’t they? You ought to know, on some subconscious level, that it is your big brother doing this—that it is Caleb’s lips and Caleb’s tongue and Caleb’s spit, that it is Caleb that you are reacting to.

It’s impossible to quell the slow gyrating of his hips as he feasts on your flesh, aching cock grinding against your thigh in messy little circles, fully hard and tenting flannel. He can feel the small pool of pre-cum steadily garnishing the slit, leaking through his PJ pants to leave shimmering smears of his perverted pleasure along the silky skin of your inner thigh.

He’s getting greedy—he knows he is, but he just can’t seem to restrain himself, your essence too alluring to resist; a compulsion, uncontrollable and unquenchable.

He should stop before you wake to your big brother gnawing at your neck and humping your thigh; really, that’s what any good, decent big brother would do. Your rest is important, after all.

He should do a lot of things.

But he doesn’t, because he can’t.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

The sensations are overwhelming; something he’s spent several years denying himself, something he’s spent several years dreaming about—it doesn’t count if it’s just in his head, right?—and he finds himself drowning in it, embraced in the ecstasy.

“God, fuck,” he whimpers, curse cracking in his throat. “You feel so—so good.”

Forehead pressed into the crown of your head, his breath is sweltering and damp along your hairline, rough little moans spilling from his lips with each rut of his pelvis.

“Y’so perfect for me, letting me use you like this,” he manages to gasp out, eyes squeezed shut, imagining how stunning you must look in the throes of pleasure; dazed eyes glazed with lust and rolling back in your skull, lips licked raw and mouth dropped open as the sweetest symphony plays on your tongue, spine bowing off his mattress as pure rapture climbs the notched vertebrae.

Oh, what he’d give to see such a sight, just once.

He wishes he could trick himself into thinking that a singular instance of experiencing such beauty would be enough to keep him from committing such a heinous act of indecency ever again, but he knows that isn’t true.

Because already he wants more, gluttonous for your body, yearning to be buried in the warmth of your sweet little cunt; and he’s barely taken anything at all yet. Caleb can’t imagine what sort of creature this monster would evolve into under such circumstances. Too much is never enough.

Caleb sure as hell can’t trick himself into believing such nonsense, but he sure as hell can trick you.

He doesn’t realize you’ve awoken until he hears your tiny voice, muffled by his chest, fingers pressing into his tensing abs.

“Cae—Caleb?” his hips stutter at the sudden sound—so quiet, so scared—his cock twitching against your leg. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” he hushes you, body sliding down yours so he can search your face, so you can see the sincerity, the desperation, shining in his gaze, his cock pressed hot and hard against your core. “Just—” his hips roll once, a groan catching in his throat as his shaft is enveloped by your swollen lips, so easy to feel through the flimsy fabric of your pyjama shorts. “—Enjoy it.”

“Wh-What?”

“Come on, just this once.”

“Caleb,” you begin, and the fear in your voice, tinged with a sick sort of curiosity, has another moan clawing at the back of his tongue, hips rolling into yours slow and purposeful. “This isn’t right…”

“No one has to know,” he slurs out, nuzzling his cheek against your temple in a crude form of comfort. “We keep so many secrets—what’s one more?”

“No, Caleb—” your hands furl into fists, pushing into lean muscle, and a dark, decadent sound of amusement drips from Caleb’s lips. Oh, how pathetically precious the you think you could ever shove him off.

But your squirming is beginning to annoy him, that telltale aggression building in his chest—an anger only you seem to evoke, especially when you’re being uncooperative—and he snarls, pulling back a little to fix you with an unimpressed look, his hips pinning you to his bed.

“Tell me it doesn’t feel good,” he glares at you, his words a cross between a growl and a whine, and it’s hard to tell if it’s a demand or a plead. “Go on, fucking tell me. Say ‘it doesn’t feel good, Caleb. Your cock doesn’t feel good, Caleb’. Come on.”

Your lids clamp shut in the face of his intense, invasive stare, tears blossoming along the seam of your lashes, a pitiful squeak catching in your throat as your head shakes.

“No? Why not?” A hand wreathes itself around your jaw, blunt nails biting into your cheeks, the pain causing your eyes to spring open. “Is it because you can’t?”

The question has that same taunting tone he’s used since you were kids—that infuriatingly blasé I’m-better-than-you cadence, the one that proclaims that you’re stupid and he’s superior, that he always wins—and a fierce flame of determination ignites within your ribs, eyes hardened and teeth barred.

“It—It doesn’t feel—Oh, oh, Cae—”

And you’re trying, trying so desperately to force those words from your tongue, to spit them from your lips and devour the smugness glinting in his eyes, but then he’s moving again, the slick head of his cock rubbing over your clit in precise movements—back and forth, back and forth.

That isn’t fair, but when has Caleb ever played fair, really?

He’s got you completely trapped beneath his body now, his knees digging into the mattress as he shifts his weight, forcing your thighs open wider.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“I—It’s not—It doesn’t—” A mewl of frustration slices your sentence, chased by a groan of defeat.

“C’mon, angel, spit it out already if it doesn’t feel good.”

Squinting in the face of his mocking stare, you steel yourself, throat rippling with a thick swallow of resolve.

“We shouldn’t—” The sentence splinters with a whine, your words pulled taught between virtue and desire.

Tears cloud your eyes, rendering Caleb nothing more than a shimmering blur, and you blink rapidly in an attempt to clear them, tiny droplets caught by your lashes.

“You’re a terrible liar, y’know that?” he breathes, the question damp on the shell of your ear. “I can feel how turned on you are, silly little girl.”

His hips rock forward once in accentuation, the movement slow and purposeful, as if to prove a point. His clothed cock glides over your drenched cunt with ease and the head strokes your swollen clit again, another torrent of heat rushing to the apex of your thighs.

“And you know what this tells me?” his voice drops to a whisper. “It tells me you like it.”

Pins of humiliation erupt across your cheeks, tingling heat flooding your face. A soft sob stutters your chest, head shaking in weak denial—a denial that you like it, or simply a denial that this isn’t moral, neither of you can be sure.

“Besides, don’t you wanna take my mind off that stupid nightmare?” His voice drops an octave, deep and devious, chills skittering across your skin. “This—” he rolls his hips once in emphasis, “this will help.”

“Cae…”

And he can hear it; can hear the internal struggle reflected in your voice, a tug-of-war between the need to please and the obligation to do what’s right.

“Come on, be a good little sister for me—you said you wanted to make me feel better, right? This will make me feel better. This will make me forget all about it.”

This will bring him to the crest of bliss, the closest to Heaven he’s sure he’ll ever get.

“I…I don’t—”

“Why can’t you just enjoy it with me, huh?” Caleb murmurs, dragging the words along your jaw then planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Give in to it. Just this once.”

It doesn’t take much coaxing before you’re nodding into his neck, body gone slack beneath his own; you’ve always been so easy for him, so eager to obey even with venom in your mouth and fire in your eyes. Caleb supposes that’s just a big brother’s influence.

Because no matter how much you retaliate, how much you taunt and tease him, you have always wanted to be his good little girl. Praise from Caleb is sacred, precious, and rarely doled out. It must be savoured, protected, cherished.

And so you allow your big brother to find comfort in you, in the warmth of your body, in the melody of your moans, praying that this short-lived ecstasy will be enough to cleanse his mind of its nightmares.

“There’s my good girl,” he hums, pleasant and triumphant, the reverence sealed with a chaste kiss to the edge of your hairline.

Then he’s pulling away and sitting back on his heels, an arrogant little smirk materializing on his lips at the discontented whine that sounds at the back of your throat. Violet stares down at you with such passion it nearly burns, his callused palms pushing your knees open wider, following the V of your thighs until finally, finally, he reaches the apex.

“Fucking Christ.”

Drenched silk outlines the contours of your cunt—No undies, huh? How naughty—and Caleb reaches out, tracing the shape, pointer finger ghosting over every bump and dip and curve.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes to himself, gaze hungry and unblinking, enchanted by your body—enraptured by your arousal, captivated by your reactions; the way every graze of his fingertip sends a delicate wave of pleasure tremoring through your flesh; the way his touch makes your lashes dither, unsure if they want to stay open or snap shut. “Let me see it.”

Potent lust leaves his voice husky, and while his sentence is a statement, it comes out as a plead—desperate, desirous.

Vying fingers pull your sleep shorts aside to reveal your glistening cunt, a whine vibrating deep in the back of his throat. Chest heaving with yearning, his trance stays unbroken, his mouth parted and his tongue pulsing with each of his heavy breaths.

For a moment everything is still, silent, Caleb revelling in the radiance of your body.

Then something snaps, the final thread of thin resistance broken, and he’s surging forward, teeth catching on your upper lip as his mouth collides with yours, procuring the prettiest little yelp to crack in your chest. He swallows it down greedily, tongue breaking through the barriers of lips and teeth to lavish your mouth in his spit.

His hips are moving again, shoved snug between your spread thighs, sharp hipbones carving bruises into supple flesh. Each forceful roll of his pelvis has his cockhead catching on your hole—so close, so close—a vicious shudder coursing through his form.

And he can feel it, he can feel your cunt through the thin flannel of his pyjamas—teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, each gentle contraction begging for him to stuff it full—another groan rattling from his mouth into yours.

It’s all simultaneously too much and not enough, the soft breaths of his name exhaled hot and heavy onto his waiting tongue and the eager fluttering of your cunt desperate to suck him in and the nails scrabbling at the back his neck and—and Caleb feels like he’s going to burst out of his fucking skin, flesh starting to split at the seams, if he doesn’t get more, now.

He’s hardly aware of what he’s doing, moving on pure instinct as a hand snakes between your bodies and paws at the waistband of his pants, the heel of his palm pushing it down just enough to free his aching cock.

A faint Caleb, no, wait! tugs at the back of his consciousness, blotted out by sheer lust as his palm wraps around the base of his cock, head bumping purposefully against your hole.

The cry that shatters in your throat as he shoves himself into your cunt is nothing short of gorgeous, his own responding whine straining his throat. One quick, hard thrust to bury himself to the hilt is all it takes before his cock is throbbing, filling you with copious amounts of cum—so much, too much, and Christ, when has he ever cum like this?

It’s so intense that it has his whole body tensing, pleasure whiting his vision and wiping his mind and all he can smell, feel, taste is you, you, you—toffee and orchid shooting straight to his brain, your body knotted with his, hips rocking up in desperate little movements as you try to fuck yourself on his spent cock, your sounds of pleasure sweet on his tongue and he licks into your mouth, starved for more.

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!”

“M’here, baby,” he slurs against your mouth, rubbing his lips into yours. “M’here, come on, make a mess for me.”

He isn’t even sure you cum—something he’ll berate himself for in the morning—but in the moment it doesn’t even matter, his brain so poisoned by the pleasure that it’s turned to a pulsating mush, intoxication flooding his veins as he submerges himself in you. His hips stutter as his cock twitches with those last few ribbons of cream, almost as if he’s trying to fuck his seed deeper into you, before his trembling muscles finally give out, Caleb collapsing on top of you.

“God,” he gasps out, lips moving against the crown of your head. “Th-Thank you.”

The gratitude is punctuated by a kiss to your hair, his breath hot and erratic on your scalp.

“Thank you,” he says again, a singular arm twined around your waist as he manhandles you both onto your sides, your body cradled close to his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Caleb falls into a peaceful sleep.

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