Status: Coming Soon.

Polyamorous.

A Touch Too Much.

It's dark in my room and it's scary. The door's shut tight and the bed across from mine is empty, reminding me how alone I really am these days. You'd think that at fourteen, I would no longer be afraid of the dark. And it's really not the dark that scares me, but the monster that lurks in it.

The minute my door creaks open, I cower under the covers, hoping to disappear into nothing so he doesn't know that I'm here. But of course, God must have it out for me because he finds me. He pulls back the covers and smirks at my trembling form and I just know that he's laughing at my fear.

"There's my little flower," my father coos as his large hand reaches to cup my cheek. I choose to stay completely silent, frozen stiff in his wake. "Not so talkative tonight, huh? That's okay. Daddy'll get you talking."

The thought alone is enough to make me want to vomit, but of course I don't. I've learned that the less problems I cause for myself, the better off I'll be. So when he makes his move and strips me down, I'm nothing but silent and compliant. I let him touch me where he wants and how he wants and I don't complain at all. Because that's what makes Daddy happy; he likes when I'm quiet and subordinate.

"Anaias, you're daddy's pretty, little flower, aren't you? Tell me; I want to hear you say it," He coos, hands lifting my small hips into the air.

"D-Daddy, n-n-no. I-I.." I choke, feeling him press into me and the pain is absolutely unbearable but only a stuttering whimper leaves my lips.

He grunts and groans as he breaks me, entering where he's not wanted. When he hovers over me, I have to look the other way, hoping that I'll block this all out at some point. "Tell me, Anaias. Tell me that you're mine."

"I don't want this," I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks. But that doesn't seem to stop him. He still moves in and out of me, taking his own pleasure in spite of my pain.

He still urges me to tell him that I'm his, his pretty little flower, but I can't force myself to lie. I don't belong to him; I'm his son. I might have been a pretty, little flower at one point, but I'm not now. I'm broken, so broken that not even my own brother can stand to be around me. Daddy's little play-toy is more like what I am, what I probably will always be.

"What? What're you crying for?" he groans, sick smirk mocking me. One large hand wraps itself around my neck and squeezes. "I asked you a question, you little shit," he squeezes harder.

He's never choked me before and I panic, small hands clutching at his arm. I can't breathe, can't talk. Even if I had wanted to answer his question, I couldn't. I feel myself fading into black as I struggle more and more against his grip. That proves to work against me though, only allowing him to tighten the iron grip on my neck. And then, it finally all goes black.


I jolt up from my bed, heart thudding rapidly in my chest. It's been a while since I've had a nightmare, being that just a week ago, I was living them rather than dreaming them. My hands are shaking so bad that it's hard for me to get a grip on the covers so I'm able to pull them back, but in the end I manage to pull them off just enough for me to slip out of bed.

My legs are wobbly as they carry me out and down the hall towards the only other bedroom in the house. My mind's blurry but the sudden need to be held and comforted is the thing; it's so overwhelming that it's the driving force behind my progressing movement in the direction of Cal and Quenton's room. When I finally come within view of their room though, of course, my eyes get more of a view than they bargained for.

My body is thrown for a shock, watching the two older boys move together. They're obviously having sex and this is definitely something I shouldn't be looking in on, but I can't help it. The two of them look so beautiful in the act, like something straight out of a high quality erotica.

I can feel my body reacting to what I'm seeing; it's warm all of a sudden and my body feels as if it's burning from the inside out. I don't feel any remorse as I watch their climaxes come, only the fiery urge to be included in something so lovely. It scares me, and I actually thing I might combust into flames.

I'm not paying attention any longer and it's only when I hear my name, that I snap out of the trance. My eyes meet my brother's wide browns and briefly catch a glimpse of Quenton's blue ones before I'm doing the only thing I know how to do: bolting out of sight and back into my own room, shutting the door and falling onto my bed.

Try as I might, shaking the image from my head is nearly fucking impossible. I pull at the strands of my hair, quickly shaking my head back and forth. I want to forget what I just saw and pretend that it never happened, but I can't. I really can't. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is them in the throes of passion. My body's natural reaction only grows stronger until I'm practically burning alive. There's a knock on my door and I'm completely silent, cowering up against the headboard of my bed. I don't want to know who it is out there, don't want to know at all.

"Anaias, can I come in?" My brother asks. I don't answer, but he comes in anyway. He sits on the very opposite end of my bed, watching me warily and I'm grateful for the space, but I still don't look at him. "Baby boy, we gotta talk about this."

My brain totally doesn't register anything except the term of endearment that he used and it makes the heat in my veins flare up again. "Nothing to talk about," I lie.

"Anaias, I know you saw. I don't know how much, but I know you something. I want to know how you feel. I need to know if you're okay," he whispers as he scoots closer.

"Hot," I blurt without thinking and scoot myself away from his reach, worried that if he touches me, the burn will flare more.

"What was that? Stop scooting away from me, please. Just stay still for once. You know I won't hurt you," he says, managing to somehow wrap his arm around me and I freak. "Ani, please. Stop."

I desperately try to move away, not wanting him to feel the changes my body has made. But that proves futile when I feel his hand come in contact with my crotch, causing me to stiffen and the flames inside me flare to an all time high. I'm completely still after that; desperately seeking his touch again, but at the same time not. He gasps in my ear, head looking over my shoulder from the position we're in. I hear him swallow thickly and the sound stirs fear in my tummy.

"Ani, is that...?" He trails off.

I don't even know what to tell him because my mind is suddenly filled with too many images of things that I'd rather not say. And besides, how do you tell your brother that seeing him and his boyfriend in action makes you harder than a steel rod? I knew I was bound to fuck up sometime folks, and here it is. What the hell is wrong with me?
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Yep. That totally just happened. So, don't hate me. And the next chapter could go one of two ways and I'm not sure which idea I'm going to go with yet, so bear with me on that one But, do enjoy this somewhat shitty chapter.

Rec, Com, Sub <3

Love you alll!