Chapter Text
After your mother’s messy divorce from your dad, you never thought you’d see the day she remarries. It happens when you least expect it, towards the end of your college freshman year. She marries a man you only met a week ago because she failed to mention she had a daughter from her previous marriage until you ran into them at a restaurant. Typical of her to sweep away the parts of her life she isn’t too proud of. Nanami doesn’t seem to mind, though. He took in the information in a stride and was extremely welcoming. Their wedding was quick but sweet and honestly, you didn’t process the events until you saw the ring on your mom’s finger. Nanami is officially your new stepfather and you’re not quite sure what you think of him. He seems very respectful and like the perfect gentleman – but it’s only a matter of time before he slips.
The first time you met him, not once did his eyes lower to your breasts, your legs, or your ass. It’s a little surprising, but you guess he has more self-control than most men. Meanwhile, the first thing you notice are his thick forearms and large hands. You’re not afraid to admit your mind wandered elsewhere. His thick long fingers would feel amazing pumping in and out of your pussy, coated in your slick. Nanami’s undeniably handsome and if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity of being in his bed. Older men love your youth and you love the validation they give you.
After your mother’s honeymoon with Nanami ends, you both move into his home. It’s a two-story house that doesn’t scream luxury but you know better than to make assumptions; the neighborhood is clean and people feel safe leaving their items outdoors. It’s obvious Nanami is well-off and you can at least commend your mother for choosing a decent guy; this time, at least. She wasn’t that selective when it came to your father.
While moving in, Nanami continues to impress you, carrying both your mother’s and your boxes into his home. You would be lying if you didn’t stare the entire time, watching his muscles flex with every move and memorizing the sound of his grunts. He’s the perfect gentleman; carrying all your stuff, prioritizing your comfort over his own, being so kind and gentle. He’s too good to be true and you’re certain of it. You’ve experienced and learned too much about men to believe this fairytale.
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You’ve been living with Nanami for a month or two and haven’t noticed a change in his behavior. Sometimes men like to play the long game and you’ve learned to accept that there’s no preventing it from happening. So you decide that if it’s going to happen, it might as well be on your terms, and your little game begins. The changes are subtle, at first. You stop wearing a bra around the house. Your tops get tighter and more low-cut. Your shorts get skimpier and shorter. And if your mother ever asks, what’s the big deal? It’s summer! It’s not your fault the weather is constantly making you hot.
Nanami doesn’t seem to notice, which frustrates you. Requited or unrequited, you always drown in male attention. Why won’t he give you his? You decide it’s time to step it up. You start leaving your panties in the bathroom every other day; not too often, or your mother will get suspicious. Unfortunately for you, they never disappear or return soiled. Every time you check, your underwear is right where you left it. Untouched.
After multiple failed attempts, you decide that if Nanami won’t understand your indirect suggestions, then it’s time to be more direct. A part of you feels a twinge of guilt for your mother; for being so shameless in your journey to get in her husband’s bed. But the other part of you remembers how she never shielded you from your father’s blows and how she ignored you the night you came home crying, bruises across your body; and your guilt dissipates. She may have birthed you, but that doesn’t mean she’s a good mother. If she doesn’t respect you, then you won’t respect her relationship.
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Although Nanami insisted he has more than enough to provide for your family, your mother decided to keep her job. You’re glad; if she had quit, then you wouldn’t be able to get Nanami alone in the house. After a week or two of living at his house, you’ve begun to decipher a pattern. Usually when your mother is at work, Nanami locks himself up in his office and only leaves to eat and make small talk. Knowing this, you decide to bring yourself to him. You wear a tight-fitting top with no bra and a pair of shorts that leave little to the imagination. No underwear in case your plan works. You don a pair of thigh-high socks that squeeze the fat of your thighs. Then, you take a cup of steaming coffee to his office. Your heart’s racing as you knock on the door and slowly open it.
“Hey, Nanami,” you say softly with a smile. He looks up from his paperwork and gives you a weary smile. He rubs the bridge of his nose and beckons you forward.
“Hello. What brings you here? Do you need anything?” Nanami’s instinct to help makes your thighs slightly squeeze together and you shake your head.
“No, I just decided to bring you a cup of coffee. I know your job must be super stressful and I thought you’d like some. It’s black, just how you like it.” You place it on the table and sit on his desk, next to him. You swing your legs and tilt your head to the side, waiting for his reaction. Nanami smiles appreciatively and grabs the mug.
“Well, that’s very kind of you. Thank you.” You nod and watch as his Adam's apple bobs in his throat while drinking the coffee. While he’s distracted, you scoot closer to him until your thighs are brushing against his seat. He doesn’t even spare your legs a glance and you fight the urge to groan in annoyance.
“So, what are you up to? What are you doing for work?” You make sure to keep your tone chipper and excited. Nanami huffs and places his glasses down.
“Just some paperwork. Boring stuff, I’m sure a young girl like you isn’t interested in hearing about it.” He waves his hand dismissively and you pout.
“Of course I do! Come on, tell me all about it,” you place a hand on his bicep and softly squeeze. “I’d love to hear about your work.”
His eyes drift to your hand, then to your thighs and how the fat of them is spilling out your thigh high socks, and you see him visibly swallow. You bite down a smile. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Alright then. I work as a financial manager, so what I basically do is…” You’re quick to zone out as he starts talking, nodding along and humming in understanding when he turns to look at you. You give him an encouraging smile every time he looks like he’s going to stop talking, and once he’s done, you nod one last time and smile.
“Wow, that’s impressive. I couldn’t ever do that,” you sigh and slowly raise your foot to his thigh. “You must be so stressed. Let me know if there’s anything I can ever do to help.” Your foot lands on his thigh and Nanami inhales sharply. “Anything, I promise.” Your foot goes higher and higher until you nearly touch his crotch. Your heart is basically in your throat but you force yourself to continue.
As soon as you’re about to reach his cock, Nanami clears his throat and abruptly stands up from his chair, fixing his tie as he walks towards the door. He doesn’t look at you at all. “Thank you for your kindness. Forgive me, but I have to make a phone call.” You frown as he closes the door behind him and your eyes return to his desk. He left his phone behind. You sigh as you hop off the desk. You were so sure you had him wrapped around your finger; basically giving yourself for the taking. Guess you were wrong.
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Before Nanami came into your life, you only came home to visit your mother once a month during the school year. Even though she’s been separated from your dad for several years, there’s something about your relationship with her that makes you feel like you’re eight years old again, crying and begging your dad to stop hurting you. So you only visited her the bare minimum amount that wouldn’t have her complaining. But now that Nanami’s your step dad and you live in his house, you started coming home every weekend. Then summer rolls around which helps your plan move forward. Your mom is none the wiser, glad that her beloved daughter is spending more time home. You strike again a week after your failed attempt. After a lot of begging and convincing, you manage to get Nanami out of his office and onto the living room couch, a sports match playing on the television. You’re not paying too much attention to it though. No, your attention is entirely focused on Nanami. For once, his posture is relaxed and his legs are spread open. They’re inviting. You want to crawl between them, have him hold your chin, and let him do anything to you. Maybe he’ll have you suck his fingers and if you’re good enough, give you his cock instead.
“I’m glad you listened to me, Nanami,” you rub his shoulder and grin. “You look tired and stressed all the time, you deserve a break.” You scoot closer to him and your t-shirt rides up, exposing more of your bare thighs. Today, you’re only wearing an oversized t-shirt, underwear, and some socks. As you’ve hoped, his gaze has begun to wander more and more since the incident. Your heart fills with giddiness.
Nanami shakes his head and gives you a smile that warms your insides. “Please, call me Kento. Nanami is too formal.” You giggle and nod.
“Okay, Kento,” his name feels funny on your tongue. His smile slightly deepens. “I’m glad you’re taking a break,” you look at the screen and back at him. “Do you like this sport or do you want me to change the channel? We could watch a movie.”
Nanami shrugs noncommittally. “We can watch whatever you’d like.” You smile and browse the television’s movies until you land on a horror one you’ve watched before.
“I hope you like horror movies,” you say in a teasing tone, and Nanami huffs. “What? They’re great!”
He shakes his head but his smile doesn’t fade. The movie begins and for a solid while, you’re actually paying attention. But then the jumpscares begin, and you yelp at the first one. It’s half staged, half genuine; but it gets you to scoot closer to Nanami, and that’s all that matters. At the next jumpscare, you bury your face in his arm. You feel him caress your hair, and you smile into his arm. This wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.
“I thought you liked horror movies.” You nod and lean back with a frown. “I do! But they’re still scary…” you whine and cling to his arm, pressing your chest against it. If he notices, he doesn’t show it. Nanami simply snorts and keeps his eyes on the television. You bite down a frown and turn your attention towards the movie. You’ll have to keep trying harder.
As the movie progresses, so do your touches. You go from holding his arm to practically hugging him. He doesn’t seem to mind, but he doesn’t make any effort to reciprocate it. At the most, Nanami wraps an arm around your shoulders but doesn’t pull you closer. You can feel the warmth radiating off his chest and hear his breathing. When the movie gets particularly quiet and tense, preparing for a jumpscare, you lower your hand to his thigh. He doesn’t have time to react, as the jumpscare makes both of you flinch and you squeak in surprise. Your hand hovers above his crotch and Nanami audibly swallows but doesn’t dare to look away from the movie. Then, when the next jumpscare happens, your hand lands on his crotch. You watch his reaction from the corner of your eyes; his eyes slightly widen before they relax, and he rolls his neck. For a few seconds, you do nothing. You feel the warmth of his cock beneath you and when you start to move your hand, it throbs. Refusing to make eye contact, you keep watching the movie as you fondle Nanami through his pants. He exhales shakily when you gently squeeze his crotch but does nothing to move you. Biting your lip to hide a grin, you start to reach for his zipper. Then, as if synchronized, Nanami stands up as a scream from the movie makes you flinch.
You look up at him with an oblivious and confused expression as he stares down at you, chest heaving. “What’s wrong, Kento? Did something happen?” He clenches his jaw and snatches the TV remote from the couch, turning it off. Your heart drops.
“I should have put a stop to this the moment it happened, and I deeply apologize for not doing so. In case it wasn’t clear, you are my step-daughter,” his tone becomes colder and your heart drops. “You should not touch me in such an inappropriate manner and I should not have allowed you to do so. Please, I don’t want to have this conversation again. This must come to an end.”
Furrowing your brows, you stand up and meet his gaze. Even when standing, he towers over you and you dig your nails into your palms. No man has ever turned you down before. Something ugly and unknown slithers into your chest and makes your heart twist and your head spin. Why doesn’t he want you? Shouldn’t he want you?
“Do you want me to stop because I’m your stepdaughter or because you don’t want me?” You glare at him. Nanami’s breath hitches and he clears his throat. He narrows his eyes.
“I’m not having this conversation. Please, go to your room. I hope we will never have to discuss this again.” He starts to walk towards the staircase, but you follow him and grab his arm before he can make another move. Nanami stops but doesn’t turn around, shoulders heaving. He spits out your name as a warning and you shrink on yourself but keep your grip on his arm firm.
“Answer my fucking question and I’ll let you go.” Nanami turns around and you stagger backward as he stares you down.
“I don’t know what false impression I caused you to have, but I deeply apologize for it. By no circumstance would I ever desire you; not only is it highly inappropriate because I’m your stepfather, it is wrong. You are a young girl – you’re barely an adult. To pursue you would be to take advantage of your youth. I do not understand why you are attempting to seduce me. Although we are not related by blood, it would be disgusting of me to even look at you in such a manner. You are eighteen. I am twenty-eight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like us to never have this conversation again.” As he storms away, you’re left speechless on the staircase. When the door of his office slams shut, you sink to your knees and bring them to your chest. You stare at the living room and try to fight the tears that burn in your eyes.
The sound of Nanami's grandfather clock makes you jump. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sitting on the staircase. Nanami has yet to step out of his office. Your mother’s on the night shift, so she won’t be home until tomorrow morning. Your phone buzzes and snaps you out of your trance. Nobara invited you to a party tonight with a bunch of your classmates. You stare at the screen a little too long until you blink and type a response. With a scowl and a new mindset, you rise from the floor and head to your bedroom. Nanami doesn’t want you? Fine. Whatever. If he doesn’t want you, someone else will.
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It takes you an hour to get ready and you’re satisfied with the results you see in the mirror. A nice top that pushes your tits on display and a skirt that barely covers your ass. Makeup that isn’t too extravagant but enough to draw attention to your glossy lips and long lashes. As you’re grabbing your bag and phone, your heart stops at the sound of Nanami’s office door opening. Fuck. You were going to leave through the main door, certain that he wouldn’t come out for the rest of the night.
You quickly turn off your lights and climb into your bed, pulling a blanket over your frame. His footsteps get louder and closer and your heart climbs to your throat. The door opens and you can hear Nanami sigh, realizing you’re asleep, and close the door. Once you hear his footsteps fade, you exhale and jump out of your bed. You can’t leave through the main door anymore, that’s for sure. So you grab your bag and your phone and head over to your window, unlocking it as quietly as possible. Thank god you chose your bedroom to be on the first floor. With a speed and stealth even you’re impressed by, you slip out your window and jog to the house’s entrance, where Nobara’s waiting in her car. You wave at her and she waves back with a wide grin. You slip into the car and buckle in your seatbelt, thanking her as she passes you a lit cigarette.
“Oh my god, your stepdad is fucking loaded. A gated community? I got ID’d when I drove into your neighborhood.” You laugh and nod, taking a puff of the cigarette and passing it back to her.
“Yeah, he is. Let’s go now, he’s a fucking stickler for rules and I’m dead if he catches me out.” Without hesitation, Nobara nods and drives off. It isn’t long until you pull onto the driveway of a house you’ve never seen before, your brows furrowing. As the both of you get out of the car, you can hear music so loud it nearly makes the ground vibrate.
“Nobara, whose place is this? I’ve never been here before.” She grins.
“It’s Toge’s. He’s finally hosting a party instead of being trashed at one, so it better be good.” You huff and follow Nobara inside the house. You’re immediately hit with the strong smell of booze, cigarettes, and weed. You scrunch your nose up and Nobara leads you into the kitchen. She passes you a red cup and you’re quick to take a swing, ignoring its awful taste and the burn it leaves in your throat. Laughing at your eagerness, Nobara follows suit.
“Someone’s ready to black out tonight. What’s the rush?” She smiles and sits on the kitchen countertop. You sit next to her, a long sigh leaving your lips. You take another sip before placing it down next to you and shrugging.
“My stepdad. He’s such a pain in the ass.” You mutter, absentmindedly swinging your legs back and forth. Nobara nods in understanding.
“Parents, I get it. Is he mean to you?” You shake your head with a sigh.
“No, actually. He’s very kind and respectful,” You roll your eyes and Nobara raises a brow. “Whatever, I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Nobara nods and without question, she leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room, swarmed with a crowd of dancing teenagers. The room is hot from all the people cooped up in it, college kids grinding on each other and mouths clashing messily. Nobara and you are quick to start dancing, laughing, and taking sips of your drink. You lose count of how many cups you drink. The alcohol washes away your stiff posture and you can feel your limbs relax, hips swaying and all worries leaving your mind. While dancing with Nobara, you scan the room for anyone who looks good enough to distract you for tonight. Your eyes zero on a tall guy with pink hair and tattoos covering every inch of exposed skin. He seems to feel your gaze as he makes eye contact with you, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. You smile back.
You lean down and whisper into Nobara’s ear that you’ve found your distraction for the night and bid her goodbye before walking towards the tattooed man. Your feet are almost wobbly from all the alcohol, but you try to pretend you’re not drunk. He looks a little too old to be at this party, but you’d be the last person to complain about that. He splits away from the group of guys he was talking to and he meets you halfway, one arm immediately slithering around your waist. It makes you smile.
He leans down to whisper into your ear. “What’s your name? I’m Sukuna.”
You say your name and then pause, pretending to be confused. “Aren’t you a little too old to be here?” Your words are slightly slurred and you giggle as you shift your weight on your feet and his grind widens. He pulls you flush against his chest, his hands lowering to cup your ass. You smile and hook your arms around his neck, beckoning him forward as he lowers his lips to yours. But before he kisses you, he raises a brow and huffs.
“Does it bother you?” You’re quick to shake your head and lean forward, lips brushing against his. You wonder if he can smell the alcohol on you.
“Not at all.” The moment you finish your sentence, Sukuna pulls you in tight for a kiss. You let him take control, a soft moan leaving your lips when he grabs a handful of your ass and smacks it. He’s quick to use his tongue, kissing you so sloppily it makes your thighs clench. He pulls away and you can tell by the look in his eyes he wants more.
“Wanna take this somewhere more private?” You nod in agreement and let him lead you to the house’s staircase, passing by multiple closed doors. Once or twice, you think you hear faint moaning. When he finally finds an open bedroom, he leads you inside and locks the door behind him. You know what he’s here for and you know what you’re here for, so you’re quick to start undressing and he seems to get the message, doing the same. Once you’re bare enough, you meet him in a sloppy kiss, letting him push you onto the bed. He’s quick to crawl on top of you, meeting your lips as his hands wander elsewhere. You let him do anything he wants, as long as he makes you forget, even if it’s just for a bit.
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When you wake up, it’s two in the morning and you’re lying next to Sukuna, who’s passed out. Fuck. Your mom gets home by six, and you have no idea how you’re going to get home. Probably should’ve thought of that before hooking up with Sukuna… As quietly as you can, you pick up your clothes from the bedroom floor while simultaneously trying not to fall on your face. You can still feel the alcohol in your system and you can barely think straight. You remember that Sukuna and you drank some more after fucking and you bite down a groan of annoyance. He doesn’t even budge from his sleep despite the noise you’re making, and you’re glad.
Once you’re dressed and look somewhat presentable, you slip out of the bedroom and walk downstairs. Surprisingly, some kids are still up but most of them are passed out on the couch and floors. You spot Nobara, laughing and chatting with Maki and some other kids you don’t recognize. Trying not to trip while walking, you reach Nobara and the group. She turns around at the sound of your footsteps, looking surprised that you’re conscious.
“Woah there. Someone had a fun time,” she grins and you roll your eyes. “I honestly thought you’d stay up there all morning with your boytoy. Want me to drive you home?”
You nod and after Nobara says goodbye to the group of people, you both walk towards her car. You almost trip twice and she cackles but helps you stand upright and get into her car.
“You’re shitfaced, dude,” she says once she starts driving. “I’ve never seen you this drunk.”
You groan in response and shake your head, even though she’s right. “Just wanna have fun.” You whine and lean your head back, closing your eyes. Nobara snorts. “Well, you definitely had fun. You know Sukuna’s like, old, right? He graduated at least a few years ago.” That makes you laugh.
“So? I like older guys.” Nobara laughs but shakes her head in disapproval. “Well, I hope he was at least good.” You simply laugh and leave out the part that you don’t really remember what happened.
Once she pulls up to Nanami’s house’s driveway, you feel a vague sense of panic at the sight of the lights in the living room being on. But you’re not really present, not really in your own mind, so it doesn’t make you worry like it should. Instead, you thank Nobara and wave goodbye as you leave the car and walk towards the front door. You hold onto the house’s support beam as you walk, holding back giggles and thoughts that shouldn’t be funny but are. In your drunkenness, you’re not as quiet as you should be when opening and closing the door behind you. You don’t even notice you walk past Nanami sitting in the living room until he says your name. You freeze. The reality of the situation sobers you up, even if it’s just for a second, and you slowly turn around as your heart races. You clear your throat, standing up straight as you try not to look drunk out of your mind.
“Yes, Nanami?” You hold your hands behind your back, twisting them. He looks furious and you’re trying not to shit your pants.
“Where the hell have you been? I thought you were asleep. But no, to my surprise, when I went to check in on you, your bed was empty and your window was left open.” Fuck.
You shrug casually. “I just went out. ‘S not a big deal.” You turn around, hoping to leave it at that. Silently praying in your head, you start walking towards your bedroom but Nanami grabs your arm so fast it makes you spin around.
“It’s not a big deal?” A vein pops on his forehead. “It’s three in the morning. You reek of alcohol and…” he falters and furrows his brows, eyes widening in disbelief. “Do not tell me that’s a hickey on your neck.”
His serious tone is so silly to you and you laugh as you shake your head, trying to look as innocent as possible. “It’s not a hickey.” Even you don’t believe your own lie. Nanami nearly growls as he drags you to the living room and you try not to trip over your feet.
“Hey! What are you doing?!” Your mind is struggling to keep up with everything and it feels like the room is spinning.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? What were you thinking, going out in the middle of the night without telling either of us!? You’re going to sit on this couch until your mother gets home and then you’re going to tell her exactly what you did.” The mention of your mother has you standing up from the couch and storming away but Nanami’s quick to follow you. He already knows you’ll try to lock yourself in your room, so instead you march towards the bathroom and try to walk as fast as you can without falling over.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going to tell this to my mother. Go fuck yourself!” You shout without turning around. You’re so close to freedom when your hand wraps around the bathroom’s door knob, but Nanami grabs you by your arm and drags you away like a ragdoll.
“Let go of me!” He ignores your protests and keeps dragging you back to the living room. “Are you deaf? I said let go of me – DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” You muster all your strength and push him away. You cry out and try to walk away but you fall onto the ground, tears already flowing down your face. Nanami tries to approach you but you flinch as you curl into a ball.
“Please, please don’t touch me,” you sob. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again. Please don’t hit me. Don’t touch me. I don’t want it.”
You don’t know how long you spend there, curled into a ball and repeating the same sentences. You don’t notice that Nanami sits a few feet away from you the whole time. His hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your spiraling and you look up at him, blinking away tears. He looks pained and you sniffle. Nanami doesn’t get a word in before you launch yourself into his open arms, another sob ripping from your throat. He holds you as you cry your heart out, tears staining his dress shirt. Your head is spinning and your throat feels raw. Once you feel like you’ve cried as much as you can, you bury your face into his chest. He’s warm and smells nice; he always smells nice. Like aftershave and an expensive cologne. It’s a comforting smell.
“I don’t know what you’ve been through,” his voice is soft and gentle. “But it wasn’t your fault. I promise. A good man would never seek out a young girl. You don’t have to seek me out because you think I will. You’re just a kid. I’m an adult and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe. I’m sorry. ”
His hug tightens as your cries grow louder.
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The next morning you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the faint sound of pans and dishes clattering. Standing by the kitchen’s doorway, you lean against the frame as you fidget with your hands. You watch Nanami flip pancakes on a pan. Though he doesn’t turn when he hears your footsteps, he greets you regardless. “Good morning.” His voice has a hint of grogginess to it that almost makes you smile.
“Good morning.” Your voice is still raw from crying last night and you clear your throat. Nanami turns and you’re scared there’s going to be nothing but disgust and irritation on his face when he looks at you. You find neither of those. Instead, you only notice the furrow of his brows as he moves expertly across the kitchen and fetches you a cup of water. You can only murmur a thanks as you take the cup from him and chug the water your throat desperately needs. Nanami turns back to the pancakes and you set the cup down.
“How did you sleep?” He turns off the stove and begins stacking the pancakes on plates. “I don’t know if you prefer pancakes or waffles, so I made both. Let me know what you prefer for future reference.”
“I slept okay, thanks,” you force a weak smile. “I appreciate it.” The tension in the room is thick and suffocating. You try to pretend like everything’s fine when you sit down at the dinner table across from him, idly poking your food with a fork.
“Listen, about last night…” you start. “I–” Nanami cuts you off with a raise of his hand.
“I understand our relationship started very tumultuously. I can assure you I stand by what I said last night and you have no reason to be worried. I am an adult and it is my responsibility to ensure you preserve your youth. If you want to talk about it, we can. If you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”
His words are a soothing balm to your wounds. You swallow down the lump forming in your throat and smile with a nod before returning your attention to your food. It’s the first time in years that you feel safe around a man.
Throughout the next few weeks, your relationship with Kento grows slowly but steady, a delicate plant that requires constant attention and watering. The summer days go by slowly as well, as they always do since you don’t have school. The prospect of going back to college makes your heart lurch but luckily, Kento is at your beck and call.
He drives you to buy items for your dorm, even agreeing to your requests for a sweet treat at the end of each trip. It makes you smile, the new shift in the dynamic. Now that your brain has ensured he is safe, you would’ve expected the innate desire to lay with him to dissipate. But it doesn’t, much to your dismay.
Sure, he’s attractive and that wasn’t going to go away — but you thought your feelings would. Instead, they only fester and worsen. You look at how his arms bulge when he’s lifting boxes after boxes of items you’ve bought, you clench your thighs when a groan slips past his lips. Fuck, you can’t stop thinking about him. But you know it’s wrong, especially when you know he doesn’t see you that way. You can feel disgust build up in your throat whenever you catch yourself staring at him for too long. For once, you’re not being unwillingly pursued by an older man and instead of being grateful, your stupid heart (and cunt) are protesting. Thank god they don’t control you at least, and you can think rationally with your head.
You’re not gonna actively make your life more difficult for yourself, so you take all your feelings and sinful thoughts about Kento and bury them deep so they never see the light of day.
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One thing you’ve come to learn since you’ve begun living with Kento; he’s really rich. You had a vague idea of his wealth since you moved in, but given that you grew up poor, you never realized how wealth seeps into subtle parts of your everyday life. The kitchen is overwhelmingly stocked with ingredients that it’s intimidating! All you want to do is bake some brownies but there’s so many products you have to dig through to reach the ingredients you need…
“Need a hand?” His gravel voice makes you jump in your own skin and you whip your head around.
“Yeah! Sorry, you spooked me.” You laugh nervously and he smiles apologetically.
“My apologies. What are you looking for?” He steps forward and holds steady eye contact. You hate how it makes your face grow warm.
“I’m trying to make brownies. I only need a few ingredients, but there’s so many I don’t know where to find the ones I need…” You pause, an idea lighting in your head. “Would you care to help me bake brownies, Kento?” For once, the smile you give him has no ill intentions behind it. He nods.
“Sure. Your mother’s not going to be home for a few hours and I could use a break from work.” You ignore how the mention of your mother leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and instead focus on directing Kento to find the ingredients you need. After a few pointers and directions, he’s managed to gather everything, and the two of you begin baking.
The two of you fall into a calm, steady, and comfortable rhythm. You prepare the dry ingredients while he prepares the wet ones. You begin mixing them as Kento organizes the mess you two made in the process.
“Oh wow, it smells so good,” you slightly lean forward, catching a whiff of the brownie batter. You grab a tiny bit on a spoon and bring it to Kento. “Here, smell it!” He leans in and you miscalculate the distance, accidentally smudging the spoon on his nose.
“Oh!” You can’t fight the laugh that escapes your lips. “Sorry about that. Here, let me clean it up.” You grab a napkin and begin dabbing at the smudge. Kento snorts.
“Yes, it does smell good. Though I don’t think smudging it on my nose makes it smell better.” You snicker at his teasing and look up to meet his gaze. He’s already looking at you and your words die on your tongue.
You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you are. You can smell his cologne and how his frame dwarfs yours. You don’t say anything, unsure whether you’ll step away or not. You should, but you don’t want to. Your eyes briefly lower to Kento’s lips before quickly returning his eyes. You audibly swallow. The look in his eyes makes your knees feel weak.
A car honk snaps you out of it and the two of you jump back as if you’ve been electrocuted. You lower your gaze to the floor as Kento awkwardly coughs.
“Right. Your mother is home. I’ll go help bring her stuff in.” You nod and return to the brownie batter, face burning with shame. You focus on pouring the batter into a pan, humming to regulate yourself when your mother’s voice cuts through the silence and you grimace to yourself.
“Yes! It was such a successful business trip, but I’m just glad to be home again.” Even with your back turned to them, you hear the soft noise of Kento kissing your mother and it makes your chest tighten. “I’m glad you’re back. Don’t forget, we’re having the barbeque and pool party with my colleagues in a week.” The mention of a party makes you perk up and you turn towards Kento and your mother.
“A party? What’s going on?” You raise a brow and your mother is quick to respond.
“Oh yes!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Sorry, I forgot to mention it before I left! Some of Kento’s colleagues are coming over since it’s his turn to host. We’ll be making Japanese food on a grill and enjoying the pool. It’ll be perfect since the weather has been so nice! You should be here to meet Kento’s colleagues, dear.” You nod as you take in the information, a small smile forming on your lips. It slowly drops when you see your mother’s arm wrapped around Kento’s but you respond nonetheless.
“Sounds great. I’ll be here.”
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It’s a few days before the party and you hate how the ache between your legs has only grown worse. It’s gotten to the point that you have to take care of yourself with your fingers late at night, late enough that both Kento and your mother should be asleep. Your bedroom is next to theirs so noise bleeds through easily. In spite of that, sometimes you can’t help but let Kento’s name slip between moans and a part of you wishes he’ll hear it.
If he does, he makes no indication of it as he continues to act normal as usual. Which is good but it only fills you with more shame. You smile and talk with him as if you weren’t fingering yourself last night to the thought of him splitting you open on his cock. But in spite of all the mental turmoil, everything seems to be going fine. You’re getting closer to Kento, learning all sorts of things about him, and vice versa.
You start to accept the fact that you can’t have him, even if it makes your chest hurt. You’ll take him in any way possible, even if he’ll only ever view you as someone he has to take care of. You look away whenever your mother kisses him or grabs his hand. But your self-discipline can only go so far and it’s tested one night when you hear soft moans coming from their bedroom. You freeze and your heart drops. Are they having sex? God, why couldn’t they have waited until you went off to college? This is torture.
You check your alarm clock and sigh at the sight of 12 AM. They’re probably barely getting started too. So you go on your phone and text Nobara and Maki.
YOU: can’t sleep. are u guys awake? wanna meet up? i’ll bring the goods
You put your phone down after sending the message, not expecting them to actually answer. They might be asleep or busy for all you know. Two buzzes prove you otherwise and you quickly grab your phone.
NOBARA: perfect timing! pull up to mine, my parent’s are out of town tonight. i’ll invite some other people and we can make it a party?
MAKI: sounds good. i’m picking you up in fifteen, [NAME], so be ready by then.
You grin and respond before springing up from your bed. You navigate your bedroom in the darkness to not make Kento or your mother suspicious, only using your phone as a flashlight. Since it’s not an official party, you decide to go a bit more casual, wearing ripped mini shorts and a cropped top. You’re too tired to do much makeup so you only do some mascara and lip gloss. Then you slowly stash three bottles of liquor into a backpack and sling it across your shoulders before walking toward your window.
Your mother’s moans haven’t stopped at all; and if anything, they’ve grown louder. You roll your eyes. God, your mom doesn’t even try to be quiet about it. But to be fair, neither do you. At least her moans hides the clinking of the glass bottles.
You slip out of your bedroom window and reach the front of the house, where you already find Maki waiting. You slide into her car and without further ado, you head towards Nobara’s house.
By the time you arrive, you can hear the muffled noise of music blasting through speakers and some animated chatter. Maki and you step into her home like if it’s yours — because it kinda is, to a certain degree. You’ve been here countless times throughout the years. You navigate the house until you reach the kitchen, where you find Nobara and a few other college kids. You acknowledge them with a nod before slinging your backpack off and setting it on the kitchen countertop. Nobara’s attention is quick to divert to your backpack when she hears the clinking of glass bottles.
“Hey!What’d you bring?” You smile at her enthusiasm and bring the bottles out.
“We’ve got some vodka, sake of course, and some mixed drinks.” Nobara nods as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the label.
“I invited Inumaki, he said he’ll bring some blunts and maybe some coke, if he has any left.” You raise a brow. You try to act calm and collected, ignoring how the mention of the white powder made your heart drop to your stomach.
“Coke? Didn’t know we were doing that. Isn’t it super expensive to get?” The first and only time you ever dabbled in it was years ago, on the lap of an older man. It was extremely traumatic. You’ve never told anyone.
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m going to, but I thought that it’d be better to have some just in case, you know? Toge’s kinda loaded so the price doesn’t matter.” You purse your lips and nod, avoiding making eye contact with your friend.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Before you know it, an hour or two have passed by as you’re laying down on a couch, staring at the ceiling as the world spins. Shit, you should probably text Kento. You did promise you would let him know next time you went out.
Sluggishly, you reach for your phone, typing out a quick message before dropping your phone god knows where. Fuck, you really shouldn’t have smoked so much weed. You lost count of how many shots you took and then you accepted a blunt from Inumaki, only worsening things for yourself. You’re pretty sure you’re crossfaded and it’s been so long you forgot how unpleasant it is. There’s no feeling of exhilaration though, so you’re pretty sure you didn’t do coke. You hope. You briefly blacked out if you’re being honest.
The world won’t stop spinning, even when you close your eyes. Everyone’s voices are too loud even though they’re not. It feels like fire’s licking at your limbs and you’re burning alive.
You try to ignore the physical sensations and instead focus on something else. Kento. His soft hair and serious face. His broad frame and his muscles. The way he would feel inside you.
You lightly smack yourself as you groan. You came here to distract yourself from him and instead, you’re just thinking about him even more.
Shame curls tightly around your heart and squeezes it tightly. You should be ashamed of yourself. Disgusted, even. How are you still pining over your step-father when he made it clear he won’t take advantage of you? Why do things have to be so complicated? You can’t tell anyone, you know how they’ll react. People don’t like it when you’re not a perfect victim, they don’t like it when you acknowledge that your trauma has fucked you so much that it’s changed your brain chemistry and your desires.
You shut your eyes tightly, hoping to shake away any remaining thoughts about Kento and the shame that follows these thoughts. You just need to sleep. You need to sleep and maybe when you wake up, you’ll stop thinking about being fucked by your stepdad. (You won’t.)