Jersey Chaser O.aiku

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ jersey chaser⠀ 〳 ⠀ o.aiku ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) she's been a jersey chaser until she met him.

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, jersey chaser!reader, slight bratty!reader, mentions of reader being an influencer, reader in her lori harvey phase iykyk, mentions of reader being a daughter of a famous soccer player, mentions of slutshaming, mentions of pubes, mentions of oliver being uncut, dom!oliver, oral (m.receiving), he humbles reader immediately, slight sports player crossover and up to reader's interpretation on who the volleyball player is lol, sleazeball oliver, dirty talk, degradation kink, degrading pet names (slut), slight praise kink, doggystyle position, possessive!oliver, adding breeding kink in here for @lawscorazon, does he make reader wear his jersey while they're doing the nasty....yes, could this be turned into a mini series..maybe, word count: 3.8k

YOU WERE ONE OF THE BIGGEST INFLUENCERS IN THE WORLD. With a growing following of over half a million and thousands of likes on every social media post you post. You were the daughter of a legendary soccer player (now coach). You've accomplished everything you wanted, thanks to your father's funds. You've got your makeup business that's been booming since you were a teenager. Now that you were young and living your life, you couldn't help but dip your toes in the dating pool of sports players. Collecting jersey numbers like they were the bright infinity stones Thanos collected in the Marvel movies.

You were young, so why settle down so soon. Why was it such an issue that you kept your options open? You couldn't help that you gravitated towards the sports players. From the basketball players in the NBA to one of MSBY Black Jackals players. You've sat courtside during so many games that you have lost count. However, now that you've taken a break from the dating pool and decided to be single for a couple of months—you are interested in getting a taste of your next prey.

And it just had to be him. Oliver Aiku.

You thought you could use the same charm as him during your father's charity ball that brought many soccer players (both old and new) together to auction off legendary and expensive things to help fund little league soccer teams worldwide. You bat your eyelashes at him flirtatiously. You tried to impress him by being the highest bidder on an item you could care less for. The usual charms that would have had any other person eating from the palm of your hand were a complete fail.

Or so you thought.

You remembered the goosebumps that decorated your skin as you stood outside the luxury hotel where the charity event was being held. Mumbling to yourself how you were ready to go home—mop about being curved to your best friend and then do some retail therapy. That was until you heard his voice behind you.

"Leaving your own father's event so soon?" His head tilts slightly while he's shoving his hands in the pockets of his nicely tailored suit.

Even you could tell he was a bit uncomfortable in the attire he had to wear tonight. You rubbed your arms, hoping it would help warm you up as you waited for your driver to pull around with the car.

"I've done my duties as his daughter. I showed up." Your shoulders shrug before you go back to doing what you were doing.

It wasn't anything you could say to him after you made a fool of yourself by attempting to flirt with him just to be met with a very cold, harsh steel door. You could feel his presence next to you as if he wasn't going to leave until you eventually got in the car.

"I've heard about you." Oliver's voice trails off, alluding to the things you already knew about yourself.

You already had to read about it in gossip magazines, so hearing it from a guy you had your eyes set on—wasn't new. Your eyes glance over at him, and you don't even notice how intensely he stares at you. You watched as he let his tongue glide across his lips—drinking in your looks for the evening. Instantly, the once coldness you felt due to the crisp nightly air went away from your body, radiating heat just by the way Oliver looked at you. The ball was no longer yours to guide like usual, he had the upper hand, and he knew it.

"Hm, nothing new. I'm a slut, and my father needs better control over me. I've heard about me too." You sighed while opening your clutch.

You were searching for nothing. Just to avoid having to meet those green and purple eyes of his. Those heterochromia eyes could put any woman in a trance. Similar to a snake charmer trying to guide a rattlesnake.

"Yeah, something along those lines and that you are a jersey chaser." His chuckle was low enough for you to hear him. "That's fuckin' hilarious."

"Hahaha, laugh it up." Sarcasm oozes from your tongue, and you realize that he is getting a rise out of his.

"So what do you do? Steal their jerseys after breaking their precious little heart so severely that they can't focus on their game?"

You finally turned to look at him. Swapping the weight of your body from one red bottom to the other. Your arms crossed over your chest before rolling your eyes, "If you didn't curve me, you would have found out, Mr. Aiku." You had seen your personal driver pull up in front of the hotel.

Your driver, whose known you since you were little, would rush to open your car door, but he immediately stopped his actions due to Oliver stopping you from opening the door yourself. The door to the black Benz truck slapped shut, and you couldn't help but eye Oliver questioningly. You hated the fact that the ball was no longer yours—he had full control, and you couldn't entirely read him to gain the ball back.

He inches closer, abruptly closing the gap between you two. He's holding a hotel room card between his index and middle finger—waving it in your face as if it's your father's credit card. "Then show me."

Your eyebrow raises at him, wondering when he changed his mind. However, you had no time to wonder when this was the perfect opportunity to regain control of the ball. Beat him at his own game. You told your driver that he could go home for the evening, considering that you planned to spend the whole night with Oliver. Your plush lip gloss-covered lips curve into a harmless smile before you turn towards the hotel entrance, dragging Oliver swiftly by the black tie he had around his neck.

You didn't care about the people in the lobby seeing you with him. That's the thing, you never cared about being caught out with another person because it wasn't their business. Your manicured finger jabbed at the elevator button, and as soon as the doors slid open, you waltzed inside with your head held up. As soon as the elevator closed with the two of you inside, it was as if a switch had gone off between you. You instantly let your lips crush upon each other, grasping each other bodies. Your leg hooked up his waist as your back was leaned against the elevator wall. Before you could mumble about people walking on the elevator as it was going up, your lips gasped apart, feeling his hands reach between your thighs.

Oliver nibbled on your lip, teasing, letting his tongue glide across it afterward before he pulled away as soon as the elevator opened on the floor you two were going to. You watched completely breathless as he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off the elevator as if the two of you weren't so close to tearing each other clothes off right in the elevator. "Cocky bastard." You mumbled to yourself.

You followed behind eagerly, though just as he reached his hotel room. He unlocked the door, but before he opened it, he leaned against it and looked at you. "You know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

Your eyes roll at his words, "Of course, I'm not some timid little girl." You push your way into the hotel room.

You didn't waste time stripping from the elegant velvet gown you wore tonight. The hotel air sent a chill down your spine as you plopped down on the king-size bed. The warmth of the sheets hitting your bare skin caused you to close your eyes. You were completely basking in the scent of the hotel room. It smelled like Oliver if you focused hard enough. Just as you were about to complain about what was taking him so long, you could feel something getting thrown at you.

"Put this on." He mumbles as he walks around the hotel room, removing the attire he wore tonight.

You sat up, extending the clothing he had thrown at you. It was his jersey. "Why'd you want me to wear this?" You asked. You tugged the jersey over your head to put it on.

Oliver glances up from removing cufflinks that had his initials engraved in them. He looks you up and down from head to toe. From how your hair seemed to be in the perfect shape to how he could even get a peak of your ass with each movement you made with his jersey on. He understood why many sports players gravitated towards wanting to even get a date with you. You were stunning—absolutely breathtaking. However, Oliver wasn't like the others.

"You look good in it, don't you think? Better than wearing that volleyball play jersey." Oliver smirks as he closes the gap between you two.

Some buttons were undone on the crisp white button-down shirt he wore. His black slacks hung loosely around his waist, and his hair was now disheveled from his slender fingers combing through it.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, noticing that he was moving closer toward you. The ball still wasn't in your grasp. As soon as you willingly slide his jersey on your body to be entrapped by the scent of him from the piece of clothing, you no longer have the upper hand.

"Don't you think you'll be even prettier with my cock in your mouth?"

Your brain never got so stuck on a question. Primarily when you were known to dodge red-carpet report gossip questions. Your fingers toyed with the ends of the jersey, not sure what to say.

"I think you would look prettier. Mouth full of cock, drool dripping down, staining my jersey..." Oliver's voice trails off like a broken poem spoken during open mic night.

Your panties grew damp with each syllable that rolled off his tongue to the point where you were mentally cursing yourself for folding so quickly.

So much for attempting to gain control?

Before Oliver could say anything else, you're dropping to your knees without another word. Your eyes met with his as you're thirstily tugging the black slacks down his ankles. Your hand teasingly brushed against his bulge through his boxers. "What you waiting for, for me to shove it in your mouth?" His tone comes off as significantly condensing—as if he is growing impatient.

"Didn't know you were in a rush." You commented as you leaned forward on your knees, fingers grasping at the band of his black-colored Calvin Klein's.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Oliver's lips parted to spit out a sarcastic comment, but before he could give you the pleasure of that—you're pushing yourself closer on your knees to take him in your mouth. Instantly your hand grasped at the shaft of his cock that couldn't fit into his mouth, slowly stroking it teasingly as you pucker your lips to kiss the tip of his cock. Your lips began to stain with the taste of his precum that leaked through the slit of his tip, and you seemed to moan at the feeling of your mouth being stuffed. Your eyes shifted close to relinquish the sense of pleasuring Oliver.

With your teasing kitten licks, Oliver took it upon himself to buck his hips to feel more of your mouth. With each thrust forward, the tip of his cock tapped at the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Your drool begins to pool out your mouth messily, and Oliver's eyes glistened in amusement at the sight. His fingers toy with your curls before he pulls you off his cock with a seductive pop.

Your tear-filled eyes stared up at Oliver, completely breathless as you were attempting to enjoy being able to breathe once again. Oliver's lips curve into a devious smirk as he leans down to grab hold of your face, his callous hands squishing your cheeks together for your lips to pucker. He's leaning in as if he wants to kiss you, but he pulls away.

"If you ball your left hand in a fist, maybe, just maybe, you'll handle my cock in your mouth better." He teased before he tried again.

His cock once again took comfort in your mouth, and you're taking note of his tip this time. Your fist balled up while you inched forward. Slowly his cock disappears in your mouth bit by bit.

Your drool stained the jersey on your body with each brash thrust forward. Your eyeliner smudged down your heated cheeks as you looked up at Oliver through your teary eyes. Even though his thick cock was taking your breath bit by bit—your eyes still twinkled in admiration for the soccer player, and your panties grew damper.

"Give me one good suck; remember what I told you. 'kay?" His fingers grasp at your coils as if he was your hair stylist—ushering you forward some more to deepthroat him.

In just a quick second, you're willing to shove Oliver's cock back in your mouth until the tip of your nose is met with the coarseness of his pubic hair. His hand instantly pressed on the back of your head, entrapping you from escaping of the fiery feeling of your throat being used recklessly. As he told you, you breathed through your nose while your hand grasped his toned thighs. Your manicured nails dug into his flesh, but you knew he could care less about some nail marks on him when his cock was in your pretty mouth. Your eyes closed just in time for a single tear to drag down your cheeks before he let your head snap back so you could catch your breath. Similar to drinking your first cup of alcohol, your throat burns. The string of saliva connected between your plush bottom lip and his cock was quite a sight if you two were filming a porno.

Your knees ached from the carpet below your body as you watched Oliver finally kick his feet from the slacks around his ankles. He palmed his cock effortlessly to coat the remainder of your saliva on him.

"Get on the bed on all fours." He urges with proficiency in his tone.

"You want to be a jersey chaser, but you must earn the jersey first, princess."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You did what you were told too quickly; you wanted to question yourself if he had some spell cast on you. You not spitting out some snarky comment during comments weren't your thing. Perhaps his cock bruising the back of your throat put you in your place, but it was too soon to judge when his cock hadn't driven its way inside you.

With your butt up in the air, you quivered, feeling his callous fingertips trace alongside the curve of your spine. His thick cock resting in between your cheeks. Your hips bucked back just to feel some friction—your pussy twitching in anticipation of feeling Oliver's cock.

"Don't be so impatient. My dick isn't going anywhere." His fingertips teasingly trace his name on your spine.

You felt the pad of Oliver's thumb brushing against your pussy lips through your soaked panties. Your teeth nibbled on your lower lip before you spoke, "Could you stop the teasing?"

Oliver ignored your question as he tugged the lace fabric down your thighs. As if you're a fragile doll, he's helping you out of your panties. "Now I see why you're so impatient," Oliver mumbles as he grabs hold of his cock, guiding it towards you.

The relaxed sigh that came from Oliver when his cock felt how wet you were was like music to your ears. Your body felt so hot, feeling him shove his cock inside you little by little. Not because he wanted you to get used to his size but to push you further to the edge to beg for more.

"Please." You whimpered out as your fingers intertwined with the sheets.

"That's what I wanted to hear." He leans over, placing the sloppiest kisses down your spine.

You felt so strange because, during your other hookups, you never felt like this. Your body never felt like it was going through a continuous fever by just a subtle task like pasting kisses on your spine covered with his jersey. Your pussy never fluttered around a man's cock in anticipation. Simply curious about how exactly the Oliver Aiku strokes were.

They started off slowly; perhaps he was getting used to your drooling cunt gripping around him like a tight glove. Then the pace quickened, and the grip on your waist tightened. He now had a pace that was pleasurable for both of you. It left you creaming and fluttering around his cock, making you feel like you were on top of the world. It made Oliver feel so pussy drunk that he saw stars. The adrenaline going through his veins at the moment felt similar to when he was doing what he does best on the field. His multi-colored hair began sticking to his forehead due to the sweat droplets dribbling down his forehead. His hands grasped at his jersey that you wore so perfectly—using the jersey to yank back on his cock like a toy yo-yo.

The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other could be heard in the hotel room. You were sure Oliver didn't care for the guests residing in the neighboring hotel rooms. With each buck of his hip, it seems to have more aggression to it. Each thrust felt like he was attempting to express something.

Your whimpers and his hushed whines continued to intertwine with each other like a sultry tune. In such a pornographic position with your hip gripped so tightly that you were sure it was getting bruised—you adored hearing Oliver's moans. They were brash yet whiny. He was enjoying this just as much as you.

"Where does my pretty little slut want my cum, hm?" Oliver asked.

With each word that came out, he pushed his hips forward harshly to meet the plumpness of your handprint-stained ass cheeks. Your tears stained the sheets below your body as you let out muffled moans at Oliver's question—completely ignoring his question because you were so close to crumbling down yourself.

"Your back." His grip on your waist tightens as he bottoms down inside of you. Shoving his full weight upon you, completely entrapping you from running away from his harsh thrusts.

"Or maybe inside this pretty pussy of yours, hm? So many choices." He grunts out.

It became too inaudible for you to answer his question when the only feeling you could feel was the sensational feeling that sat at the pit of your stomach. Your thighs shook violently, feeling Oliver's pace only quicken. In a matter of seconds, you saw stars in your tear-filled eyes, and the only form of language you knew was Oliver's name while your cunt fluttered around his thick cock—just in time for him to finally decide where to cum at.

Despite the two of you hitting a high of pleasure—that didn't stop Oliver from filling you up with his cum. His hips sloppily push forward to ensure no droplets of his cum escape. Oliver released his grasp on your waist as he hesitantly pulled out, his cock coated with a ring of his cum.

When exhaustion finally hit you, your body felt like a fresh bowl of Jell-O. Your limbs felt like you did the same training your dad would put guys in his training camp through. Instantly, you're sitting up to grasp your gown on the ground—but Oliver stops you.

"I don't stay the night when this.." Your hand motions between the two of you. "Happens." You add.

"Now you do; you're too exhausted to even move."

"No, I'm not."

"Well, want to go another round?" Oliver grins down at you, and you glimpse up at him before letting your body drop back on the mattress below your body.

"You're insane, I'm going to sleep."

As you got comfortable on the king-size mattress, you heard Oliver chuckle and disappear into the bathroom. Before uttering any other snarky comment, you drifted off to sleep with Oliver on your mind.

The following morning, you woke up to the sun kissing your soft skin and the constant dinging of your cell phone. Your eyes fluttered open, and you stretched like an exhausted black cat before reaching for your phone on the nightstand. You pushed yourself up and grasped at the hotel sheets. The previous night was a vivid blur until you noticed the spot where Oliver was laying was empty. You woke up alone with the scent of Oliver engraving your skin and breakfast on the table in the corner. Your hand went to rub the sleep out of your eyes while scrolling through your countless social media notifications. You would have thought that you had flashed a stranger with the way your phone had been going off.

Your plan of silencing your phone and returning to continue your beauty rest was halted when you finally saw the post that had everyone in a frenzy. Oliver had tagged you in a picture wearing his jersey. You assumed he took the picture after you had dozed off after the amazing sex the two of you engaged in. The caption had your eye twitching in annoyance—but it reminded you that with Oliver, he'll always have the upper hand.

According to Oliver, you were no longer collecting jerseys.

— tags: @lawscorazon @eiflawriting @maydayaisha @sailewhoremoon @simpliheavenli @whore4mikey @gg-trini @saaturno @sirenh4ll @wh0reforlevi @m00nchildthings @foxthroats @cherrypussprincess @anahryal @orchid3a @hellshedevil @21-06-1996 @iluvgiveon99 @la-musaa @fairylibra @black-yn @smileyy-cakee @shamelesshoefairy @bubble4u @mimi321us @atesumu @kristvns @b-achiras @diorlov3er @dior-fawn @stunnababyyabyyy @sookisaurus @aizensballsweat @jellymantra33 @http-twyla @euixnaa @cactusmghao

the more, the merrier

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤthe itoshi brothers x reader smutㅤㅤ

— f!reader, smut (obviously), stepcest, 17+ minors dni!! 

ㅤㅤmy first ever post, hello! rushed, so it’s sadly only 2K words </3 enjoy!

how exactly did you end up in this position?

you invited rin into your room to study. that's what you told him. to study. so he asked, what did this have to do with sae? to put it truthfully, they've been at each other's throats since you've met them. years ago. at first, you didn't say anything. you were just some little stepsister that came with the package of their father marrying your mother. you only knew of sae from the time your parents made you sit together, and rin because he attended the same school as you. and just like that, you all knew together. of course you did, you were all siblings now. step siblings, to be precise. but that didn't mean you all liked each other, let alone got along. or rather, that didn't mean that they liked each other. sharp glances when the other wasn't looking. quick jabs punctuated with a cold, fake smile. quiet competitiveness that never seemed to end. it was always like that every time you faced them, rin was throwing sae a certain look. or sae had something smart to say about rin. it was always something, always. never a calm day. 

one of your biggest mistakes was inviting them both to your room to study while your parents went out to celebrate their anniversary. the moment you hushed one of them, the other had to throw some snarky remark. to prove they were better, to simply ‘one up’ the other brother. you felt like a toy shared by immature, spoiled siblings. couldn’t they just calm down, and study for once? midterms were coming up, and you were trying really hard not to fail. the moment you walked into their house for the first time and witnessed their glares at each other, you could tell that they would never work together towards something. 

and the same thing continued. even after sae graduated, soon followed by rin. it was something you grew to accept as time flew by. but if that were the case, 

then how did you end up here?

“stand in front of her, idiot.” there’s a hiss from behind you, coming from sae. you didn’t expect it from him, considering how he tried his hardest not to talk to his brother. but then again, this same sae that is pressing your chest into your desk with two fingers pumping in and out of your pussy and a hand wrapped around his cock. 

a cold, smooth voice comes flooding from above you. “shut it, my dear brother.” sarcasm oozed from him, glaring at his older sibling. you’re at eye level at his crotch — in fact, you’re at eye level with both of their crotches, even though sae is standing behind you. a hand tangles itself in your hair, petting you softly. it’s a direct opposite of the way sae is treating you right now. “he should learn how to be quiet more often, right pretty girl?” he cooed, moving a strand of hair from your face.

all you could answer with was moans and babbles. Unintelligent and needy, a high pitched moan slips out instead of a legitimate answer to rin’s question. you were too focused on too many things to try again. The faint smell of a freshly brewed pot of coffee, now going untouched due to your current activities. sae’s soft grunts as he strokes his dick behind you. the  wet, wet noise your pussy makes as it sucks his fingers up greedily. the way rin hums at you, so disarmingly sweet. the way his hands reach into his shorts and untucks his dick.

his cock springs free; half hard and growing harder. almost immediately, rin wraps a hand around his dick and guides it towards your mouth. your plump pink lips part readily, tongue falling out to get a taste of the streak of precum that was just starting to leak from the tip.

“there we go,” your mind vaguely registers rin’s murmured words of encouragement. instead, you’re going cross-eyed at the pleasure you’re receiving from sae as the redhead just discovered the perfect way to angle his thumb as he rubs your clit. there’s an ever-growing pit forming in your stomach that’s making you feel dumb, an orgasm that finds itself as almost there but not quite. still, rin takes advantage of your docile state and takes the opportunity to coax you into covering his dick in thousands of little kitten licks and kisses before sucking on the head. “that’s it, just like that.”

“how does she feel?” sae asks from behind you. his voice sounds rushed, and his tone sounds desperate. if it weren’t for what he’s doing to you- how deep his finds reach inside of you and manage to find all the right places- then you would more than gladly turned around and told him it was okay for him to put it in. you were more than ready for it anyways.

but you couldn’t turn around. you couldn’t even look up to see rin’s face as he answered. so you did the only thing you could do.

you sucked harder.

the pleasure blew rin’s mind, so he groan as he manages to slide his dick further down your throat was satisfying. It was low and deep and exactly what you wanted to hear from him. to prove that you could be as good to him as sae was being to you. “ oh fuck, her mouth is perfect.”

you hum around his dick, the praise making butterflies flutter in your stomach. apparently, that was the right thing to do because the hand in your hair immediately tightens its grip and tugs. You grunt at the sudden roughness, the sound adding the vibration rin was desperately craving. this time, you were ready for a response and were luckily prepared for when he decided to buck into your mouth.

you choke, but only slightly. rin was quick to loosen his grip on your hair after he realized what he had done. whispering soft words of praise, he fucked your mouth lazily- letting you swirl your tongue around and explore all that the black-haired boy had to offer.

“hngh,” Your eyes flicker back as sae lets out a soft hum himself. again, you find yourself upset that you aren’t able to see anything from this angle. though that initial displeasure turns into a sharp bout of anger as he draws his fingers back with an audible “pop.”

although, even that emotion bleeds away as fast as it bubbled up. because you found him spit on his hand and lining his dick up with your entrance as quickly as he took his fingers away from it.

sae breathed a heavy sigh as he eased his dick inside of you, sinking slowly- inch by inch. thankfully, rin had stopped moving in order to let you focus on the slow feeling of being filled to the brim with the older boy’s throbbing cock. your jaw falls slack as your eyes flutter shut. around rin’s dick, you can’t help but start to drool.

if felt good being stuffed at both ends. sae’s hands on your hips made you feel grounded and lusted after. rin’s hand on your hair made you feel loved and cared for. it was good. more than good actually. in fact, it was almost way too good. you didn’t know anything else could top this.

that is, that’s what you thought before they moved.

a loud moan rips through your throat as sae snaps his hips into yours suddenly. and again. and again. and again. and again until suddenly, he’s slamming into you at a rapid pace. It’s quicker than you expected of him, yet he seemed all types of impatient when it came to you today. always making you rush around- to hurry up and bend over your desk. to hurry up and drop your panties. though you can’t say this is something that you’re too mad about.

especially now that he has deep and easy access to the spot inside of you that always seems to make you see stars.

the ravenette’s treatment of your mouth is just a little less rough, but it’s still not what you expected. It’s like he coordinates the way he fucks your mouth in time with his brother’s strokes. he’s quick with taking what he wants from you this time. he wants it perfect. and he knows he can get that with you. he knows he can get that only with you. and if it means working with his rival to have the best opportunity to get in your pants, then so be it.

besides, it’s more fun watching you get dick drunk off of two cocks instead of one.

“good girl, what a good little sister.”  sae’s whispered praise was barely heard of the slapping of skin against skin, yet you relished in his compliments anyways. It causes you to whine- to shift and wiggle your hips as he angled himself perfectly to glide in and out of you. It would be an easy trip due to how long he had spent stretching you out with his long, long fingers if it weren’t for how tightly you were squeezing around his dick. “take it, take it like the whore you are.”

it slightly stung, the way he quickly could switch from such a passionate person to a cold hearted one - but it didn’t matter. not if he was making you feel  this good. but of course, that wasn’t exactly the case with the boy standing in front of you.

“that’s not very 'golden’ of you, nii-san. you should cherish her, you know? ”  rin tuts from above you, using the name you’ve always affectionately called him. he has a hand on your jaw, coaxing you gently to open your mouth wider for him. you give in to his command, easily and he strokes your skin as a reward. you’ve always been eager to please. “She’s only letting you fuck her because she’s a good girl for her brothers. isn’t that right, pretty girl?”

you can only hum out, only half paying attention to the conversation being held above you. it’s not what you care about right now, anyways. If only they knew how long you’ve been dreaming about them. about both of them. at the same time.

“haha. go to hell, rin.” sae’s dry laughter is accented with his hands finding your hips and squeezing hard. he guides your body into bouncing back on his dick in time with his thrusts. it’s a more effective method forcing your growing orgasm to come quicker and quicker. and it’s even more effective for rin to just stand back and allow you to swallow around his dick. it’s a win-win situation for everyone. “let’s see if she even wants you after I’m finished with her, rinrin.” 

well...almost a win-win situation.

a particularly large thrust send’s rin’s cock further down your throat. your hands shoot out, bracing themselves against his shorts as the desk digs into your skin chest uncomfortably. rin barely spares you a second thought as he resorts back to the older hitting it from the back. “it’s not as cute as when she says it. try again.”

“is that so?” a growl tears through the air behind you, and suddenly there’s a hand being wrapped around your neck. the tone is ferocious and feral, and the movement is quick. he pulls your body upwards- arching your back off of the desk the two of them are spit roasting you on. rin’s dick falls from your mouth clumsily as sae leans his body forward and molds his chest with your back. the grip is tight but not tight enough to choke you. it serves as a warning. to you. to him. “my sincerest apologizes, little brother.”

sae’s words are clipped with anger and competitiveness- the same competitiveness that you used to hate over all these years- as he takes over complete control of the situation. from this angle, you’re almost at eye level with rin- only able to look at him through your lashes as sae’s grip on your neck forces you to move exactly in time with him while limiting your mobility.

you can practically feel the dark smile against your skin as he renders your body completely useless. your voice grows louder and louder by the second. it easily bounces off of your room’s walls and echoes in your own ears. you sound like a whore. a needy, desperate whore for her step brothers.

and you love it.

rin meets your half-lidded eyes with a wink. your brain moves so, so slowly compared to the fast thrusts burying a cock deep inside your cunt but you’re able to read the look on his face in just a second. the possessive hand around your neck tries to claim you, but it does little else but poses as a challenge to conquer for rin.

and yet, he’s instigating. he knows just how to rile up his brother to the point that he’s about to snap. all so he can get what he wants, just this once. 

because sae is challenging him too.

“you know…” rin’s tone is as lazy as the way he strokes his dick in front of you. you miss having it in your mouth. you miss holding it for him, keeping it warm, and tasting him. and you know he misses it too. but there’s more to enjoy from you. more than you want him to enjoy from you. “i’d be more inclined to forgive you if you let me have a turn with that cute cunt of hers. So that being said…”

both brothers have always been able to work together. they just needed something that was truly worth working towards.

And somehow, that ended up being about fucking you.

“pass to me, will you?”

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝

ft. 𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 / mentions of sae itoshi

*.✧ rin isn't at all surprised to see sae has brought you along to the family event. what startles him instead is how hard it is to contain his urges.

*.✧ wc: 6k. cw: nsfw/suggestive, fem reader, pining, angst, mentions of mental health issues & therapy, mentions of injuries, foul language. all characters are in their mid 20's. the itoshis are pro players. reader has a backstory. // notes: FINALLY the 1st part to my mini series after dark !! biggest thank you to my beloved river for beta reading, it wouldn’t of have gotten out without you 🤍 check out the official playlist for best experience :) enjoy!

There’s something odd hanging heavy in the air – humid and thick as Rin steps out from the airport terminal, suitcase clattering loudly on the sidewalk. 

Maybe it’s still the annoyance that’s pooling deep in his gut, caused by the encounter that took place barely minutes ago – a group of fans recognizing him and the few other players in line to border control.

He’s thankful, he really is, but not in moments like these.

Not when the discoloration under his eyes could be seen from miles away, and yet, it must seem like he’s less of a human as people just keep on yapping. Talking, grabbing – asking if it’s okay to take a picture. Commenting on a recent goal, congratulating. It was only this annoying because there was Shidou and a few other players right beside him, and yet, everyone seemed desperate only for a smidge of his attention, toppling him over with inquiries and requests and appreciative words.

It's only natural he's always the one in the spotlight – the team captain with an aloof aura to contradict his status. But there is something even more alluring to him, and it's probably the way he still manages to crack a slight smile at one of Ryusei's comments as they move down the line; a small action that's gotten recorded anyway, he's noticed, and he's sure it'll be all over Twitter within an hour or two, considering it's still a rare occasion to see him loosen up.

It's puzzling to some still – the complexity of Paris X Gen's highest grossing player. It's confusing but intriguing, how his presence is dangerous enough to keep him marked by the other team at all times, and yet, they seem absolutely petrified at the thought of going one-on-one with him. It's a wonder how he appears to be just as intimidating outside the field, eyes sharp and stance tall, but on his good days, he can give a young fan the softest smile possible. It's a whiplash – but he never called himself easy to be around. No one ever really did.

That's what brought him to the very top.

A heavy sigh slips past his lips, fingers tugging the corduroy jacket to cover more of his tee clad chest, and puts a hand up as his designated driver slows down by the entrance. As the vehicle stops and the man gets out to open the trunk, Rin holds back a sigh to see it's not the usual driver that meets him during most of his flights. (It's not because he's pretentious. He just really, really doesn't want to talk tonight anymore. And he knows the usual would've picked up on that. Now, he's not sure.)

He hands his suitcase over to get it into the trunk, then moves to the backseat of the car, hoping for a quiet ride.

It’s nearing midnight, the flight having been postponed due to some issues that he just couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to, and it seems like it’s enough of a reason to keep the driver silent. That, and probably the exhaustion written all over his face, teal eyes zoning out the window and teeth nibbling on chapped lips.

He’s back home now, a thoughtful gift for his parents sitting in his suitcase, but there’s no place for nostalgia or relief in his heart. Instead, it fills with dread at the thought of seeing a mess of auburn hair and a pair of turquoise eyes, mirroring his own – no matter how much he resents it. 

If it was all up to him, he’d pretend Sae was never part of their family – act like they had never met, like the elder had never broken his dreams and stained his teenage heart with dread. It’s been what – eight years? Almost a decade, it seems, and a few therapy attempts ago, but even though Rin has found his own self, his very own objective and a goal that isn’t dictated by Sae anymore, the thought of his brother still makes him uneasy at best. 

He wishes he didn’t see the longing in his mother’s eyes, how she cannot stand to see her sons treat each other as if they were air. There wasn’t much either of their parents could do to bring the brothers back on the right track and it seemed like they knew – could see it in the way the younger tensed up, seeing a suitcase by the front door and an additional pair of shoes on the mat. 

There was no way to save them, not back then, and not now.

A screech of the driver slamming the brakes brings Rin back from the train of thoughts, safety belt digging into his chest as he jolts forward a bit. He looks through the windscreen, watches as the car that cut in front of them maneuvers sloppily, and the driver shakes his head.

“People really are going crazy this time of the year,” he mumbles, and their eyes momentarily meet through the rear view mirror. 

It’s a bit awkward, the way silence falls over the vehicle quickly after, but honestly Rin doesn’t mind that much. He knows he comes off aloof, too proud to engage in small talk. It’s a bit of a lifesaver now, when it’s getting hard to keep his eyes open anymore.

He hums in agreement and shifts in his seat, long legs spreading out and forward. Carefully, he rolls his ankle, the strain making his brows furrow as a breath hitches deep in his chest. He rests the heel of his foot back down and closes his eyes. It hurts, but he can’t tell whether it’s still the sprained joint or his pride.

The driver seems to catch up on the striker’s discomfort and quickly leans over, pulling the passenger seat forward to make more space. “There, Itoshi-san. It’ll be a bit of a long drive, so make yourself comfy.” He smiles, a little uneasy still, but as Rin stretches his legs out and gives a small mumble of thank you, he takes it as an incentive. 

“That last goal was out of this world, honestly– I hope you don’t mind.” 

The man sounds sincere, taps his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously. Rin keeps his eyes forward, on the car in front of them. 

“Some say this was the season’s best goal, and I agree.” 

A tight smile pulls on the athlete’s lips. Yeah, he’s heard it, too. Heard all the praise, accompanied by pitiful and worried looks as he limped off the field – hoping, praying the camera doesn’t pick up on the seething look in his eyes.

This could’ve happened to anyone, and honestly, it wasn’t even that big of a deal if you looked at it objectively. It’s a light injury, and he might even consider himself lucky it happened on the last match before Christmas break. He’ll have his time off, spend it with family and friends, and go to his physio appointments without any disturbance. (And get his ear talked off, probably. Because as breathtaking this goal was, he had to push the throbbing pain in his joint aside, force his foot into the awkward angle and feel, hear the crunch of the bone as he sent the ball into the net. It was everything that their physio team told them to refrain from.)

By the time the season restarts, he’ll be as good as new.

But if there’s one thing Sae engraved into his mind, is that he hates pity and resents vulnerability. He wants to smack the medical team away as they work on his ankle, swollen and reddening within seconds as they tighten the bandage around it, pressing ice bags to the aching joint. 

This can happen to anybody – anyone but him, it is.

To react to it so passionately isn't anything unordinary – but it's everything that's unlike him.

“Thank you,” Rin simply says and settles on that being his final reply. He doesn’t want to dig deeper into any of it, to continue with the topic that he’s pretty sure everyone already knows is a minefield.

The man behind the steering wheel seems to catch up on the subtle sign and just gives a slight smile. 

Rin shudders at the way pity floods the vehicle, taunts him and makes the tight loop around his heart pull. He hates this, but there’s not much that’s left to do about it besides biting back on his tongue and leaning back into the seat.

It’s peaceful for the rest of the hour-long drive. Starry skies invite him to look out the window, gaze growing unfocused with exhaustion and thoughts that race through his mind with the speed of light.

He wishes there was a way to silence that, tune out the whispers and taunting like the driver did to the radio upon noticing the striker’s tired look. 

His therapist said it’ll take some time – long hours spent dwelling over his notepad, trying to reach inside to grasp his ego and the issues that burn at it the most, only to scribble them down on the paper and try to voice them out in the office a few days later. He’s never been good with communication or speaking his mind, at least not in the conventional way that won’t leave the recipient in tears or shock; but, hey, his therapist did say that he’s seen worse. Rin wonders if he was being honest about it, but then finds himself realizing that this is exactly the same route of thought that he’s supposed to watch out for. He knew these words would seep into every crevice of his mind, sit heavy on his heart, and that's why the therapy was abruptly cut short – cause he couldn't, didn't want to hear any of it anymore.

Not everyone has ill intentions, Rin. As long as you’re hung up on what he did to you, you’ll have a hard time trusting others. And I know you don't want to admit it – but you need it.

The car comes to a stop right by the curb. Warm, yellowish light seeps through the familiar windows and hits the sidewalk.

Rin blinks once, pulled from his thoughts.

“There you go.”  The driver glances at him over his shoulder and unbuckles himself, about to help him with his suitcase but is stopped by a wave of Rin’s hand.

“S’okay. Thank you.”

He hums and fishes for his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a bill and places it in the man’s hand, undoing his seat belt and opening the door, ignoring the small sound of protest – probably caused by the tip he’s just left.

Rin gets out of the vehicle, careful as he shifts his weight to the wounded ankle, and takes his suitcase out from the trunk. There’s a harsh thud as the wheels hit the ground and a complimenting soft puff, heavy scent of smoke filling his lungs. He glances up at the elderly man, who now stands by the driver’s door and takes a drag of his cigarette. 

No matter what he does, how much he tries, he’ll always be watched – a pair of eyes trained on him at all times, whether it’s at the field or on the streets.

He holds the eye contact, waits for the man to speak. It comes with an exhale, a cloud of white reaching him from across the car –

“Good night, Itoshi-san.”

– a pause.

And then, Rin feels his eye twitch, has to hold back a snarl.

“Get well soon.”

Cold breeze seeps under his jacket, bites at the cotton-clad skin and sends shivers down his back, aching and slightly hunched. It’s a contrast to the bubbling, stinging bitterness that spills over his insides. 

He bites his tongue and tastes iron.

Then, he gives a small nod before turning on his heel and stepping away, heading towards where he can faintly make out his mother's voice from the other side of the mahogany door.

Oh, how he craves to believe it – the warm smiles sent his way, earnest wishes spoken with nothing but pure intentions – but he doesn’t know how.

And won't anytime soon.

By the time Rin's suitcase is put down by the bed in his old bedroom and he's clad in a set of hoodie and sweatpants, sat down at the dining table and slurping up the last sips of miso soup, the uneasy feeling is nowhere to be found anymore.

(Or at least, he's succeeded in pushing it to the very back of his mind, until it's barely a hushed hum.)

His mum insists on hearing about everything that took place throughout the last few months he's spent back in Paris – but to be fair, there's not much to tell her, Rin realizes. He's signed a couple new brand deals, yeah, and got a proposition from another prestige club – this time over in England, but it wasn't anywhere near the salary that he had his eye on. But that's about it, and there's not much gossip he could indulge his mother in – even though he knows she wishes there was. (She's always been playful with him – both of his parents were, actually. They know it riles their second-born up, but know it's sportive – and that he doesn't really mind. Not if it's them, that is.)

"I thought you'd surprise us with something, Rin." His mum quips, taking the bowl from his hands to wash up.

From his seat across the table, his dad breathes out a laugh.

"There's been enough surprises this year already, though, don't you think?"

Ah.

Teal eyes follow his father's, to where he gives his wife a look. The woman turns around, a cloth in hand as she dries off a cutting board, and there's a bit of confusion before her whole face lights up–

"Now that will be hard to top!" Another laugh, leaving him the only unamused one in the room. "Oh, god. I still cannot believe it." She sounds excited, very much so that it leaves a bitter taste on Rin's tongue, enough to sour his mood and brew the uneasy feeling deep in his stomach all over again.

He knew, fuck of course he knew there was no escaping it – and yet, he was still gullible enough to hope that the holidays would pass without him hearing any of it.

"I can't wait until Sae comes and tells us all about it. You know how he is through the phone, couldn't get a proper word out of him, but I need to know everything."

He really tries to fight back the furrow of his brows, for his mother's sake. It's only natural she's excited, a spark in his eyes that he remembers seeing only on the most special occasions. Him getting into Blue Lock, then being selected for the U-20 national team. Him having to move overseas, signing a contract that stuck millions to his name.

(He vaguely recalls the same look plastered on her face when she received the call from Sae's manager, back when they were kids – the call that would be the beginning of their downfall. Of course he remembers. But, since there's discomfort already eating away at his chest, he decides to ignore the memory instead.)

It's self-explanatory that she has the same, bright grin spread over her features, when she speaks about her oldest son's engagement.

Sae is engaged – soon to be married.

Sae, the last person he'd ever think is capable of love.

Sae, who's so harsh and focused on himself, who he's seen disregard every little speck of affection thrown his way for years.

And fuck does it sound unbelievable – until there's a certain face flashing in the front of his mind, a pair of bright eyes and a pretty sweet smile that's enough to make his palms clammy. Until he remembers about the only person that could melt anyone's heart – even his brother's.

Even his o–

He only ever realizes he'd zoned out again when an engine roars softly outside the house, then cuts off promptly. There's a sequence of car doors shutting, quiet talking, a trunk being opened.

"Oh! They're here!"

Rin's eyes follow his mother as she glances out the kitchen window and tosses the rag down on the counter, jogging over to the front door as the voices grow closer. His dad gets up from his seat as well, much less energetic, but there's a smile on his lips that mirrors his wife's and in that moment, he feels out of place. It doesn't fit, the uneasy jitter in his chest that's such a harsh contrast to the warmth that his parents are about to engulf you and Sae in.

The difference to what he's feeling compared to them is like nails on chalkboard, he thinks – and the second he sees the agonizingly familiar head of red hair enter his vision, he shudders as if the sharp sound really resonates through the room.

He might not be hearing it, but he's seeing a contrast even worse. Sae, in his black sweatpants and a Real Madrid hoodie, with a look at his face that's so well rested, it's unlike anything he's seen on him lately; and standing right by his side is you. Rin notices you're too engrossed in tugging your suitcase inside and welcoming his parents, and so, he uses the moment to roll his eyes up your body - the Ugg slippers, beige leggings, a white zip up fitness jacket and finally, your face.

It's a divergence that makes him uneasy. The devil himself, looking far too comfortable with an angel right by his side, with a parallel smile.

There's not even one reason for you not to be this joyful, but Rin selfishly wishes there was. He wishes that you didn't have to look this happy, standing next to the very same person behind everything miserable in his life. He wishes he understood and that he could cut through the dissonance that sits heavy in his head – but it's been years, and he still hasn't found a way to do it.

He only ever realizes he's still stuck in his seat when his father's eyes meet his own from a few feet away. It's not judging per se, more so urging him on to at least pretend, for his mother's sake. He reads right through it.

Rin exhales shortly, pushes his chair back with a sound that brings your conversation to a halt. He feels like the martyr when he steps closer to where everyone is standing, feels four pairs of eyes watching him and it makes him want to roll his eyes.

Sae's the first to force a smile and only give a jerk of his head. Rin wouldn't expect any more of him.

"Hey, Rin." He hums, rubbing the back of his neck. "S'been a while."

A small nod, then a shrug as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his sweatpants.

"It has." He cranes his neck slightly, an involuntary mirror to his brother's own attempt at soothing the strain.

He ignores the way their mum winces at the tension that resonates between the two, how it's thick enough to suffocate everyone and make them shudder with unease. But no matter how earnest his attempts are, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot bewitch the reality, and the realization comes in a soft hum, warm and sticky-sweet as it resonates.

You're here too, after all. A savior of sorts.

"A while too long," The smile you offer him makes Rin want to scream. His chest swells unconsciously and his gaze softens, almost instinctively when his eyes drink up your mellow expression. "It's been a year for sure."

It must be a joke, Rin thinks, how someone that could make any chaos subside with just a couple words and a gentle smile stays glued by the hip with a person that only needs a single look to make the world crumble all over again.

(A joke, or perhaps, a perfectly complete puzzle that keeps the universe intact. But he doesn't want it to be that way.)

Just when his father gives a slight chuckle, reaches a hand to pat your back and gives a reassuring rub to your shoulder, Sae clears his throat. With one hand reaching for the suitcase's handle, he maneuvers it down, as if in thought.

"Yep. Even longer than that, maybe." He wonders, "And– oh, look at that. Will you ever see each other when in full health?" It's patronizing, it's demeaning, it's anything but just a playful quip of one brother to another, and it makes Rin's eye twitch.

He opens his mouth to speak, "Will you shu–"

But before he can finish, you inhale sharply and cut in.

"Oi, oi," you roll your eyes, giving Sae's arm a light smack. "You're being mean. Stop." There's a glint of something in your eyes when you give your fiance a look and Rin's not entirely sure what it is, but he watches in astonishment when it shuts the elder up. You turn your head his way again.

You offer him a smile, a bit meek and unsure considering the jab Sae's made seconds earlier. "It's healing well, I hope?" You ask, sincere and sweet just like always, and spare his ankle just a short glance before you open your arms for a welcome embrace. "Hi, Rin."

It's hard for him to wrap his mind around how you're so sympathetic, so understanding and warm while seemingly not even trying. He wonders if it's why you chose this career path over any other, and knows for sure that it's why you're the best at it. You never insist, never push, never inquire - not unless you need to, with the referee's whistle ringing in your ears and a handful of sweaty, loud men standing right over your head as you work your magic.

It's no wonder every club wants you as their physio.

Rin's gotten a chance to feel your hand expertly move along his own limbs before. He remembers it clearly as a day, even though he's gone down on the field a hundred times already and it was seemingly just yet another one. But this time, this game, it was different. It was bizarre and unlike anything that's happened to him before.

First of all, his adrenaline has never spiked as high as when it was Real Madrid that Paris X Gen had to go against. It only ever took so much of him to ease his nerves and quiet down the screaming in his head when it was Sae that he had to try and steal the ball from. It was the one and only game that everybody knew was worthwhile – a guaranteed showcase of talent and hard work, a fiend between two brothers, both equally gifted.The pressure would be enough to knock anyone off their feet, but he could withstand it. He had no other choice.

Secondly, Rin's never seen a situation so absurd and unfortunate. Throughout his years as a professional, he was an eye witness to many fouls and injuries, some more gruesome and fatal than others. But to have three players go down at the same time, two of them from the same team, didn’t happen all too often. It was his teammate’s fault and Rin knew, but wouldn’t dare to scold him – not when he’s laying on the turf and gripping his knee tight, the joint stuck at an angle that has Rin wincing and shuddering. It’s bad, so, so bad, it’s insane, he thinks, watching as the other player struggles to get up with his teammates’ help. It’s chaotic, paramedics jogging over to them and putting down all of their necessities and there’s so much of it, there’s barely any space between him and the other player anymore. Both teams grow loud and erratic, shouting and reproaching wild and belligerent. Rin’s eyes follow the ref as he works on subsiding the uproar. It’s a hard job to do and he knows it, but doesn’t want to spare any more thoughts – not when he has a worry of his own, a sharp pain in his ankle that makes him nauseous. 

“Are you okay?” 

He hears a familiar voice, a soft tune that brings him back afloat. His heart hammers in his chest, adrenaline high and hot in his veins as he props himself up, hand tight on his sprained joint. He looks up and meets your eyes, wide but focused as your line of sight reaches his ankle. 

“I–” Rin hesitates, eyes slightly bewildered as they follow your movements. You crouch down right next to him, pull out a few necessary items from the med kit. An ice pack, he recognizes, a bandage, a stabilizer– “I’m not sure, it might just be a stamp.”

You hum, teeth sunk in your bottom lip as you carefully peel the sock down to reveal the bruised flesh. “Pain? On a scale of one to ten?” You spare him a quick look, delicate fingers gently pressing along the swollen skin. 

Rin grunts, fights back the urge to pull his leg away. “Six.”

With a nod, you work on untying his shoe, pulling it down along with the sock, “Sprained.” You simply point out, and his eyes widen. Your judgment’s quick, scarily so, and he’d hope that maybe you’re wrong - but the certainty in your eyes tells him enough. He’s never seen you this serious, gaze sharp and movements swift, but then again, it’s the very first time he sees you at work. So far, he’s only ever seen you hanging on Sae’s arm, all smiles and laughter as you attend a family event together.

To have Sae’s girl tend to him like that almost feels like a blow. 

“Wait, shit–” Rin’s brows furrow as he shifts, and you give him an attentive look. “Hold on. Aren’t you supposed to–”

“Your team’s busy.” You interrupt, eliciting a hiss from the striker as you work the bandage around the sole of his feet, and then stabilize it around his ankle. “He’s got a concussion and misses a tooth or two. All on top of his kneecap popping out.” Rin stiffens, eyes involuntarily searching for his teammate. He sees him being handled onto the stretcher, holding his hands over his head, groans and cries reaching his ears and it makes his heart drop. 

You plop the icepack on top of his ankle and bring his focus back to you. “I don’t care who I’m with. I’m here to help.” You offer a small smile, heartening even though you’re pretty sure it won’t give much reassurance. You know your boyfriend’s brother, heard all about him and encountered him numerous times before. Most of all, you’ve seen the burning passion behind his eyes as he steps onto the turf. He’s not backing down. “I’m sorry, Rin, but you’re off.”

Rin vaguely remembers the protest that rose deep within his chest, making his blood boil as you helped him up. He knew better than to stand his ground and try to pretend that it’s not a big deal, knew all the possible consequences far too well to act so childish and stubborn. He remembers the worried expression flashing across your features as your eyes met upon him plopping down on the bench. He saw it all, the compassion with pity yet to be seen. But it never came. 

You only left him with a heartfelt look, warm and kind, and confusion blossoming in his chest, growing on top of the inquiry and anger. 

You’re always like this, Rin realizes. Always so collected and warmhearted, only ever welcoming him with hospitality and genuine worry, and never with pity. You’ve never given him any sort of look that he’s known to despise. 

He wishes you could be this way with him only, so attentive and sweet. But he knows you’re not and never will be. He knows the only reason you ever rushed over to him, despite being the rival team’s assigned physiotherapist, was because how awfully big your heart is, aching to help and bring comfort.

It’s got nothing to do with him, and he cannot force it.

The memory vaguely plays out in his mind as he inhales your scent, the irritation subsiding and making  way for the annoyingly fuzzy feeling. It’s been a year or even more. Long months since he’s last seen you and since you became engraved deep into his mind, his source of all kinds of thrills.

Throughout the years you’ve been with Sae, he never even thought to spare you a second glance. But ever since you treated him so kindly, looked at him with such warmth, he selfishly wishes he was the one giving you the Itoshi name instead. 

He wraps his arms around your frame and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, (Y/N)."

It's only good decorum to greet you properly like this, and he knows it shouldn't be anything more than that, but as he gets an inhale of your perfume, he knows it's all but a convention.

Your hand rests on his back, fingers flexing on the sturdy muscle a bit, before pulling away entirely. You beam up at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as your head tilts with a smile. For a second, Rin thinks you might want to say something else, tell him more - but you opt not to, and instead, turn to face his brother again. "I'll put these away," You say, reaching for his suitcase. "And hop in the shower. I stink like the airport."

The way you scrunch your nose makes Rin's mouth twitch with a ghost of a smile.

"Sure," Sae shrugs a bit and hands you off the luggage, but only after he leans in to give your lips a quick peck. "I'll grab you a snack later. 'Kay?"

"M'kay," you give a breathy giggle at the action, and Rin realizes he might be far behind in being familiar with the ridiculous ways you've changed his brother.

Because this look, lovesick and full of adoration even despite the sleep throwing a heavy daze over his turquoise eyes, is one that he's never seen on his older brother before.

His mom offers to remind you as to where Sae's old room as well as the bathroom are, ushers you off with a few gentle touches and laughter that disappears down the corridor. His dad leaves to boil the kettle to make some tea, and for barely a few beats of silence, it's just the two of them standing there, in front of each other, one craning his head slightly upwards, the other glaring down.

Rin hates it, hates the way he has to swallow thick and tear his gaze away. Taking the higher ground, he only makes a slight face, then turns on his heel to leave to his room instead.

When his dad returns to the conjoined area, balancing three mugs in one hand and holding up the full pot in the other, he doesn't seem all that surprised to see just Sae standing there, pulling his hoodie off and throwing it over the chair silently.

The man sighs anyways, setting down the dishes, and only looks up when Sae breathes out a laugh.

"Just like the old times."

Rin is not sure how long he's been scrolling down his phone, or how much time has passed since he first plopped down on the king sized bed in his old bedroom. But sleep is starting to weigh down on his lids, leaving him with a cottonmouth and he tears a slight grunt from his throat upon realizing that the whole water bottle he's drank is now pressing against his bladder uncomfortably.

Tossing the phone away and propping himself up, Rin feels the tired muscles in his arm strain as he digs the palm of his other hand into his eyes, rubbing the exhaustion away. It works just enough to ease the slight sting, feet planted onto the ground as he gets up and strides across the dark room.

It must've been an hour, two tops, he wonders, reaching for the handle. The voices on the other side of the door have grown softer, quieter so as to not wake up the others that he figures must've fallen asleep by this point. He vaguely makes out the voices to be Sae's and his father's, probably still talking over yet another round of tea. His mom was always an early sleeper, and you looked quite worn out despite the gentle gleam in your eyes back in the living room, so it's not all that weird if you're both asleep by now. you've probably dozed right off as soon as you hit the bed, all warm and comfortable from your shower.

That's what he thinks. And that's exactly why he almost jolts in his step when he opens the door to see you, standing there, using the same momentum to push it open; hand pushing down on the other side of the handle. It wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, just another encounter to laugh off by tomorrow morning's cup of coffee.

But the way you peer up at him – doe eyes wide and startled, a single rivulet of water streaming down your flushed cheeks as damp hair sticks to your forehead – knocks the breath out of his lungs.

You clutch the fluffy white towel closer to your heated skin, a meek sound of surprise hitching in your throat. Rin has to bite back a groan as the sharp movement only makes your tits press against each other even tighter. "Hah– o-oh, huh, I'm sorry– thought Sae's room was–"

Rin cuts off the jumble of words, "It's right across." He corrects, voice a gravelly tune that has your knees knock together in a sheepish buckle. Your cheeks scorch, blood rushing to the soft flesh as you gnaw at your bottom lip, "Excuse me."

You're not entirely too sure why Rin's attitude towards you took a whole 180 spin – but the way he pushes past you, tough muscle bumping against your finer frame, has you yelp slightly. You jerk a little upon the thud of the bathroom door slamming shut and turn to look behind you, a soft furrow to your brows, and ultimately decide to get back to the right room this time – before the sheer embarrassment eats you alive.

On the other side of the door, Rin grabs at the sink with one hand, keeping balance as he peels his sweatpants off. He tugs his boxers down along with them, then stands back on two feet and tugs off his sweatshirt, grip tight on the fabric as his mind reels.

It's a joke, all of it, he thinks as he steps into the shower yet again tonight. The water is instantly warm as soon as he turns it on, a remnant of your bath, he supposes, but the spray isn't meant to bring him any comfort this time. It works very little to soothe his strained and taut muscles as his back flexes when he reaches his hand down, fingers wrapping around the throbbing girth.

It has to be a joke, he's sure of it, as he shuts his eyes with a groan stuck somewhere deep inside of his chest, where he can swallow it down and keep it untraceable. All of it has to be some sort of get back, a play at his will power and conscience for all the fucked up shit he's done so far in life.

It would all be so much easier if he could just push all of the blame to a twist of fate, a kismet so preposterous it'd make anyone laugh. But he can't, and he's the only one to bear the weight of his thoughts, alone, gasping for air as he nearly doubles over in the steamy shower.

He's the only one at fault when he spills all over the tiles, a moan of your name mixing in with the steam, as all sense of morality goes down the drain.

I heard about a whirlwind that’s coming round / it’s gonna carry off all that isn’t bound, and / when it happens, when it happens, I won’t be holding on

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

Okay seriously. Reblog if you're OLDER than 11.

who should i write for next?? send in reqs pls & ty!! ^_^

I think you know enough hq characters at this point so, who do you think in haikyuu would fuck their step-sis and why is it tsukishima (also ushijima but hes more lowkey)?? - 💔

🥲 if u were to crack my silly little head open and take a look inside. this would be the only thing u see. just pure hell pure chaos nothin else. NONNIE.. do u really want me dead :(

cw stepcest, dubcon, timeskip tsukki n ushi

sob sniffle sister fucker tsukishima. i am literally going to lose my mind thinking about him. he’s so mean, shrugs all your tears and whining off whenever the sibling banter pushes a few too many buttons. it’s just how he is and you’ve grown used to it — his snarky comments and how he could spark all sorts of deepest insecurities w just a few teasing, light hearted comments. but kei nii doesn’t rly mean that, and you know it. it’s just how he is, with the kindest heart buried somewhere deep under the cocky demeanor — that’s what you think, until you come home from uni for holiday break and go out one night.

you take a few shots too many, those airhead friends of yours that kei never really liked busying themselves w some random guys, and you end up calling him to pick you up. there’s some creep at the club that just doesn’t let up, you’re a little scared, and your phone is almost dead. he’s the only person you really know that’d actually pick up at this late hour and come get you — he’s your brother after all. and yet, you regret ever calling him in the first place as soon as you get in the car, listen to him calling you even dumber than he’d thought of you, jaw slack and eyes firm yet tired behind his glasses as he drives. you hold back tears on the way home, and for the very first time in your life, you feel like kei nii might actually hate you :( and that he meant every single jab he’s gave you throughout all these years. he tugs you inside the house, unaware of your silence, and grumbles something about u being lucky that mums not home to see you this fucked up. you sit at the edge of your bed, shaky fingers struggling to undo the straps of your heels, and kei lets out an exasperated sigh as he crouches down in front of you. he slaps your hands away, works on unclasping the straps and tells you you’re hopeless. you’re just so annoying with how reckless you’re being, he’s got practice tomorrow morning and yet its 3 am and he has to deal with you — careless as always. he sets your shoes aside and is about to get up and leave when he hears the choked little sound. a tear or two falls on his hand and he looks up — breath hitching in his throat upon his step sister crying. he’s seen it so many times before, being the very cause for your tears more often than not, and yet this time, he’s confused. you wipe at your eyes, a poor attempt to hide the heartbreak, and swallow back little muffled cries. you tell him you’re sorry, that you never wanted him to hate you. you’re sorry that you’re annoying, sorry that you’re being a bother as always. kei watches in sheer astonishment as your bottom lip wobbles, still glimmering with your gloss. just don’t hate me, nii chan. he almost feels bad, for the first time in forever, as you sit there in your tiny black dress, with those pretty long falsies on, and cry your heart out — for him. its the exhaustion, he thinks, it has to be as he reaches a hand up and rests it on the back of your neck. he calls you silly, wipes a thumb below your eyes and furrows his brows a bit — he could never hate you, why’d you even think that? you really are a dumb thing. he’s just tired and not thinking straight, kei’s sure, as he leans up to press his lips to yours and taste you. your tongue is heavy with intoxication and shock, and he makes out the faint vanilla of your lip gloss and remnants of liquor as he kisses you, languid and sloppy, something to slow down the haywire in your mind. he could never hate you, he repeats, easing you down on the bed and hiking your dress over your hips — groaning when you give him the prettiest wide eyes, glossy with tears still but oh, so hopeful. kei nii is a good brother, despite his sharp tongue and teasing nature — and makes sure you never, ever doubt his love for you again :(

ushijima though,, he’s a whole another story you’re so right. i’m p sure he doesn’t even give you any remotely dirty thought — anything that would be immoral considering your relation. you’re his little step sister, and there’s nothing more to it. sure, he’s never been too close with you — always solely focused on his career — but he does appreciate you. you’re nice, sweet and caring with the way you always pick him up from the airport or fly over to some of his games. (you always cheer for him the loudest, and grin wide as you tell the couple sittin next to you that the ushiwaka is your older brother.) you always welcome him with the warmest hug, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, and laugh as he squeezes you — welcome back, nii chan, i missed you lots. he’s no fool and sees how you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, too. he’s aware of all the looks you get when you two walk down the street and how it’s hard to keep count of all the boyfriends you’ve mentioned before. for some reason, none of them lasted, though, and yet you’d always brush it off and give him a small smile when he asked if you were okay. wakatoshi doesn’t know a lot about girls in the first place, but you’re a whole another enigma. like i said, i think he wouldn’t even dare think of you in any other way than purely platonic — and so, you render his entire giant frame putty when you first crawl into his lap with that pretty little glint in your eyes. barely a minute earlier you were just scrolling down your phone, w your legs in his lap as he goes through his calendar — next thing he knows, his little step sister is grinding down on him, breath minty on his lips as you moan. large palms rest on your hips and it takes all your willpower to stand your ground, considering he wouldn’t even have to put any work into pushing you off. he fixes you a confused look, eyebrows knit together and voice low when he asks what are you doing, why are you— you cup his handsome face in your hands, a manicured thumb pressing to his lips and it shuts him up ridiculously quick n effectively. s’alright, nii chan, it’s nothin’. you need him bad, you tell him, and prove your point by the sinful roll of your hips against his hardening cock. you see he wishes he could deny you, that he could tell you that it’s wrong and fucked up and that you can’t be doing this — cause you’re siblings, blood bound or not — but his silence gives him away. always so blunt and straightforward, your nii san now sits completely quiet, and you know that the cogs in his mind must be struggling, but if he had any second thoughts abt all of this — he would’ve already told you. but he doesn’t tell you anything, doesn’t speak at all before he exhales and pulls you flush against him, lips finding yours with way too much ease. toshi nii doesn’t have to speak at all — his actions do it for him, as he has you all spread out n making the prettiest noises for hours on end that day </3