Hello Wanderer

You’ll never forget the first party your brother ever brought you to, a waisted frat boy spilled his drink down the front of your dress. “Oops,” was his apology, “guess you’ll have to take it off.” Yuji reacted so fast, the last of the drunken strangers words got clipped by the sound of his teeth chipping.

Your heart races at just the memory, the flash of unmistakable rage melting from your brother’s face almost immediately when his attention turned back to you. Shushing you, brushing hair from your face and doing a once over to ensure you hadn’t caught stray droplets of that poor fuckers blood.

It’s not that Yuji’s clueless, he knows that bringing a cute little freshman to the big-kid parties will garner some unfavorable attention. It all evens out, though, when he gets to watch the liquor as it flushes your face and pulls at the hem of your already-too-short dress.

You get so needy after just a few drinks- needy for attention, needy for a dancing partner, needy for another red cup of fruity liquor. And your brother is always there to help.

That’s what he’s made for, Yuji thinks, to be all the things you need. So when the parties start getting slow and you’ve about reached you limit of alcohol before things start getting fuzzy, Yuji’s right there to offer you a steady arm and one last drink.

“I think,” you hiccup, “I think I’m drunk. Like- really drunk.” You extend your vowels in a way that definitely proves you point as Yuji sits you in the passenger seat of his car. You don’t have to tell him, he knows. He’s the one that refills your cup as soon as it’s empty.

You don’t notice where Yuji’s sitting you down until you’re falling back into the mattress. You fist the comforter at your sides, you’re not in your dorm room, you’re in your brother’s apartment.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Your vision is bleary and unable to focus, but you can see the outline of your brother above you. Yuji busies himself with the straps of your heels, but isn’t holding his breath for you to respond.

His hands feel detached as they settle behind your knees, like the skin he’s touching isn’t your own. Your limbs are deadweight, but Yuji is inexplicably strong and pushes your legs up to your chest. The tight dress you wore tonight falls at the front and your tits spill into view.

Yuji takes a moment to enjoy the sight of you in his bed, dress scrunched around your waist and panties long gone. Wait- where did your panties go? You don’t remember taking them off.

“W-wait Yuji, what’s- what’s going on?” The liquor sloshes in your head when your cheek falls to one side, it’s taking too much energy to keep up.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to make you feel good. You trust your big brother right?” And you nod, because of course you do. In times where you can’t think straight, Yuji can do it for you.

A mess of pink hair tickles the inside of your thighs, and a wet-hot tongue is licking long stripes into your pussy. You squeal on contact, and a low groan rips from your brother’s throat.

“Such a sweet little girl.” He whispers into your lips, punctuating with an open-mouth kiss to you clit. He could lick at you like this forever, leave the strain in his jeans to drain all the blood in his head just so he doesn’t have to stop fucking his tongue into you.

“Want you, want you Yuji..” you’re words paw at him, pulling him up to meet your face. He’s got his weeping cock in his fist before you can say another word.

He’ll fuck you into his mattress all night, pump you full of cum, throw you through drunken, dizzy orgasms until your little body goes into tremors.

Because you get whatever you want when it comes to Yuji, because that’s what big brothers are for.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭

❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2023©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.

You were a real sick girl. 

At first, it was not truly your fault. Your parents had a hand in it. You were simply the last born, a "whoopsie" baby, and the only girl. Not exactly golden child material. By the time you were born, Tensei had long been paralyzed, and Tenya was in the early stages of his career as a hero. 

That meant you were often home alone with just your parents, and they had quite enough of the whole raising children thing. They had been through it twice, and going for a third wasn't exactly in the cards. They set you up with a governess, homeschooling curriculum, and prayed for the best, seeing as the family engines had skipped over you entirely and left you quirkless. Yet another reason to distance themselves from you—and to keep you from other children your age. 

Your eldest brother came by to visit you a few times in your childhood, mostly around birthdays and special holidays, but he had a family of his own now and could rarely spare time to see his belated sister who was hardly half his age. That was fine by you, anyways. Tensei was kind, but commonplace. 

Tenya was the real concern. 

He, from what you parents told you, as you never got a proper chance to meet him, was spectacular. Not in the obligatory way parents describe their successful children, but in a truly remarkable fashion. He was exceptional in every sense of the word. Disciplined, honorable, and constantly at the top of his class. And, yes, a U.A. graduate and active Pro-Hero. He was a proper statue of righteousness and skill, carved from ivory and oak. 

You ached to meet him, to know the God-amongst-men the media portrayed him to be. Lord knew he was too busy to meet you, though, no matter how often his parents begged him to return home. Hell, he was rarely ever in the country, constantly being flown out for high-stakes missions where his immaculate speed was an asset. 

So, you built him instead.

You pieced together a perfect image of him in your head, welding news clips and stiff, polished interviews together to weave your brother. You took mother and father's praise of him, Tensei's dramatized stories of their own childhood, public statements, and information from hero forums to build Tenya into something reachable, something malleable for your imagination to run away with. 

You memorized him.

The cadence of his voice, stark and overly measured. The straight line of his posture and the way he never once allowed himself to slouch. The way his eyes never wavered, but instead narrowed sharply at pushy reporters. 

You imagined what it would be like to stand in front of him. Could he be your own personal hero? The one to save you from your rigid parents and solitary life? Someone who would listen to you and actually care about what you had to say?

You were sure of it, convinced by the conjured image in your mind. You bought his posters and cheaply-made action figures from auction and toy stores, certain that they were made specifically for you. You watched his interviews each night, imagining he was sharing stories with you directly instead of with a stuffy reporter. It wasn't parasocial if it was family, you assured yourself. It was study. Preparation for the day you would finally meet him. Most importantly, it was love for your darling older brother. 

You treated every scrap of information about Tenya like scripture. You catalogued it along with every other memorized fact about him. When he corrected a reporter’s grammar mid-interview, you replayed it over and over just to hear the exact inflection of his voice, all sharp and confident. When he spoke about duty and honor, you wrote it down in neat, careful handwriting, filling entire notebooks with his words as if they were pieces of advice meant only for you.

Because they were, weren’t they? No one else listened the way you did. Nobody else could make use of his genius like you could. They wouldn't understand where to start, even.

You began to mirror him, at first unconsciously.  He would want you to follow his lead, wouldn't he? To model the perfection he strived for. You sat straighter, adjusted your tone, your vocabulary, your very mannerisms until you could almost hear his voice coming out of your own mouth.

It felt right. Comforting. Like you were getting closer, just a hair away from the man you craved most. 

Your parents noticed, of course. Not in the way you wanted them to, with pride or recognition, but with silent discomfort. Your mother would glance at you a little too long when you spoke, your father clearing his throat and changing the subject whenever you brought Tenya up. They told you, gently at first, to mind yourself"and to stop "obsessing."

Such an ugly word for something so pure.

They didn’t understand. They had him once, in the flesh. They didn't understand how lucky they were to have something to remember, something true. You only had fragments and had to build the rest yourself from scratch.

Sometimes, late at night, you would sit cross-legged on your bed with your laptop glowing in the dark, watching old footage of him over and over again. Interviews, candid clips, news segments, background appearances.

You would pause on a frame where his expression slipped and lean in close, studying it like a puzzle.

“What were you thinking?” you’d whisper to the screen.

You started answering yourself after a while.

At first, it was just guesses. Then educated guesses, quickly followed by absolute certainty. You knew what he would say, how he would say it. You could predict his reactions before they happened, finishing his sentences like the two of you were neurologically linked.

It felt less like comfort and more like practice for when you would finally meet him, and you would meet him. 

You had to. 

"Father," you said softly, trying to sound your most docile. That's how he liked you best.

He looked up from his newspaper, breakfast mostly untouched as he skimmed stock reports and market data. His eyes were clouded and bored behind his lenses. "Yes, dear?" he asked, speaking the nickname with a robotic, disingenuous inflection, not bothering to hold any true affection behind it. 

"My eighteenth birthday is coming up very soon."

You pushed your eggs around on your plate, wincing as your fork scratched against the ceramic. You eyed him for signs of agitation and found a small flicker, so you quickly put the utensil down.

"So it is. Are you thinking about gifts already?"

You wrung your hands together nervously before taking purchase of a section of your hair. You ran your fingers through it carefully to ground yourself, hoping to look natural.

"Actually, that is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about," you spoke, clearing your throat softly. "There is something I would like very much, if it isn't too much to ask."

He gave a quick hum to urge you on, not bothering to look up at you again. 

"Do you think—" you paused, trying to move the lump from your chest with slow breaths, "—maybe, if it wouldn't cause you any trouble—that maybe Tenya could come to the party?"

Your father flipped the page of the paper, wordless for a moment. 

"Tenya is a very busy hero, you know," he finally said.

"I know."

"With many responsibilities. Heroes are never off-duty. He runs himself ragged, working so much."

You tried not to cringe at how he went on, feeling quite stupid for requesting such a thing. "I know. Apologies, I should have realized—"

"—For his sister, though, I'm sure he could find some time."

If you did not think screaming in excitement would make your father change his mind, you would have. You nearly jumped out of your chair to hug him, wrapping your arms perhaps a bit too tightly around him. 

"Oh, thank you, father! This is such a treat, I've always wanted to meet brother, and I finally will! I love you, thank you! This will be the best birthday ever, I'm sure," you said, babbling thanks and joyous exclamations. 

Your father struggled to pull away from you, rolling up his paper and taking a stand, clearly discomforted. 

"Right, well," he said, trying to hide his thinly veiled annoyance, "anything for you, dear."

The days leading up to your birthday were excruciating. You walked through them like glass, afraid that one wrong step would shatter everything. Every morning, you woke with the same tight feeling in your chest, a flood of anxiety and excitement washing over you.

You had spent years constructing him, refining him, perfecting every imagined reaction, every hypothetical conversation. You knew how he would greet you. You could see the tilt of his head and hear the cadence of his voice when he said your name for the first time. You had rehearsed your own response in the mirror so many times it felt like second nature.

But what if—no, no. That would never happen, especially not after how well you learned him. 

Instead, you prepared. You refused to finish the thought. Instead, you focused your energy on preparing for his arrival.

You studied harder than ever before, searching  through recent footage to ensure your version of him was up to date. You noticed every subtle change. The slight deepening of his voice and curve between his brow, the sharpening edge of his posture, and the slight exhaustion beneath his eyes that pierced through.

You would stand in your room, back straight, hands clasped neatly behind you, and speak.

“Tenya, it is an honor to finally meet you. I'm your younger sister, as you know, and a big fan."

You paused, visualizing his response in your head. 

'The honor is mine,' he would say. 'I regret not visiting sooner.'

Then you would smile, soft but genuine, the way you knew he would appreciate. “I understand. Your duties come first.”

Again and again, practicing until it felt seamless.

Your mother insisted on a modest gathering.

“Nothing overwhelming,” she said, something repressed lingering in her eyes when she looked at you. “Just family. A few close acquaintances.”

You didn’t care about the party. You barely registered her drafting the party theme that you didn't ask for, or the cake that was set to be your least favorite flavor. That was all secondary. Background noise that guided you towards something bigger.

Tenya was coming and that was all that mattered.

The day arrived too quickly for your own good. 

You woke up far before dawn, your body buzzing with restless energy while still in the dark. You dressed and redressed yourself three times before settling on something simple, that he would approve of. You fashioned your hair until your hands cramped and you were sure it was perfect.

You checked your posture in the mirror. Straight. Proper. You practiced your smile. Measured. Polite. 

You whispered your greeting one last time, watching your rouged lips move in sync with your words.

Guests began to arrive in the late afternoon.

You greeted them politely, your responses automatic and hollow. Your eyes kept drifting to the door, looking for anything that might signal his arrival.

Every second sent your heartbeat on a different rhythm. Too slow, too fast, too loud, too quiet.

You began to lose hope, slowly becoming more impatient and sharp with the chatty guests you barely knew and definitely didn't care about, until finally it happened. The door opened.

He stood in the doorway, practically dwarfing the frame, dressed in crisp civilian attire that still somehow looked heroic. His posture was exactly as you imagined, just as his face. 

He was, for lack of a better word, immaculate. 

“Tensei,” he greeted first, bending slightly at the waist to clasp your eldest brother’s arm. His voice—God, his voice—was deeper in person. Maybe he was just more relaxed, not forced to perform for a camera. "Looking good, man."

Then his gaze shifted, landing on you. There was a brief pause. Short, yes, but you felt it poignantly. 

Your heart lurched violently, the carefully practiced composure you spent weeks perfectly threatening to split under the weight of his eyes. This was your moment. The moment you had imagined for years.

You wanted to speak, to move, hell, anything, but your body wouldn’t listen, because something was wrong. Very, very wrong. 

He was looking at you, but not the way you expected. Not with the immediate recognition you craved, or with warmth and comfort. Not with the deep understanding you had spent years imagining. 

He looked at you like you were a stranger, which you were, but not... not that way. 

“Oh,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “You must be..." he trailed off, trying not to be as polite as possible. 

No. Your throat tightened. No, this was not the way it was meant to be.

You forced yourself forward, far more awkward than you wanted to be.

“Your sister,” you said, your voice coming out just a touch too eager. You corrected quickly, softening it. You told him your name and widened your arms. “It is an honor to finally meet you. I'm a big fan."

There was another pause. His brows knitted together slightly, not the reaction you scripted.

“…Right,” he said after a moment, polite but uncertain. “It is… good to meet you as well.”

Something in your chest cracked, because that, too, was not right. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to know you, embrace you, take you in like he had known you your entire life, like a real brother. All those years of work, and he was looking at you like you were nothing more than an introduction he couldn't be spared from. An unskippable cutscene in a trashy video game.

You smiled anyway, because that was what you had practiced, and unfortunately, kept talking. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a very long time,” you said.

"Ah, yes. Well, happy birthday," Tenya said, trying to make his smile look genuine rather than forced and bored. 

As you looked at him, truly looked at him, you felt something change. The man in front of you was nothing like the man you sculpted. He bent in places yoy wanted him to straighten, and was flat where he needed to be round. He was stiff and disjointed and wrong. This was not what you wanted at all.

So, you would just have to fix it and have him your way.

The party had long ended, all extended relatives and family friends having gone home. Tenya, having taken a few days off, decided to stay the night. His childhood bedroom was left untouched for the most part, excluding the old clothes of his you had managed to steal over the years. Blankets left unruffled, pillows flattened from years of neglect, but it was somewhere to lay his head and part of him missed the simplistic comfort of it. 

He tried to sleep as much as he could, but there was an innate sense of discomfort that creeped into him. It was strange, because his house, his room, was always he sanctuary. He spent his entire childhood keeping it precise and comfortable for himself, and not it felt anything but. It was too quiet, too clean. Missing articles here and there made it a chore to fall asleep, so he lay silently on his side, letting his eyes blink, his unaided vision blurring and mixing with the darkness of the room. 

"You're not what I was expecting, big brother."

Tenya's eyes snapped open, squinting in the dark. "Eh?"

He rooted around his small nightstand, looking to flip the lamp on, but felt his wrist be snatched by a smaller, manicured hand. A chill ran down his spine, feeling the hand tighten. 

"Don't." You kept hold of his wrist and crawled your way onto his bed, a mattress far too small for his now adult frame. You hummed as he choked out your name and placed your free hand on his knee, thinly kept apart from his skin by the comforter.

"What are you doing?" He asked, voice still clouded by sleep. He tried to pull his hand away once more, again unsuccessful since  restrained himself. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"You're not what I was expecting," you repeated. Your fingers shifted from his wrist, tracing up along his forearm, feeling the muscle there, at least that was how you imagined. You gave it a squeeze.

Tenya went still beneath you.

There was a long pause before he spoke again, voice low and measured, sounding less confident and more cautious. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said slowly, "but this is neither the time nor the place for this."

“No,” you said, voice cutting sharp in the night. You tightened your grip around his bicep a bit, just enough for him to notice. “You don’t understand.”

“Again, this is completely inappropriate,” he said, firmer now, trying to sit up, only to feel you shift on top of him, your weight straddling him. “You’re overwhelmed. Today was a lot, I know—"

“You’re a mess.”

That made him stop and his eyebrows pinch together.

“What?"

“You’re sloppy,” you said, tilting your head as if visually breaking him down into parts. “Your posture is off. Not by much, but enough. Your shoulders slump forward—I’ve never seen that in the footage. And your face—” you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper as you watched the wrinkles near his eyes deepen, “—it's always so angry. So tired.”

Tenya’s breath hitched, just barely.

“And you didn’t recognize me.”

You felt it in the way his body tensed underneath you. The abs you had seen in so many clips of fights with villains were underneath you, but they too were not what you expected. They were covered in a layer of fat; time softened him in ways that you weren't prepared for.

“I—” he started, then stopped, unsure of what his life was becoming in this moment. “We've never met properly! I mean, when you were first born, yes, but I don't—we don't know each other."

Your frown twisted softly in the dark, unseen.

“That’s not true. I know you,” you said. “I know exactly how you speak and think. I know what you would’ve said to me if you were in your right mind. I know you would have recognized me, big brother."

Tenya finally pulled his arm back with more force this time, but couldn't seem to find a way to shift you off without causing harm. He sat up, the best he could, but that only made his situation more compromising. 

“You’ve built an idea of me,” he said,slipping into his hero cadence that was meant to soothe civilians and reason with villains. “One that isn’t real. That isn’t fair.”

You watched him in the dark, eyes adjusting, taking in the outline of him. You placed your hands on his cheeks, cupping them gently and moving his head each way, examining him closer. 

He was still wrong.

“But it can be,” you said.

You wanted to trust him, you really did, but Tenya was just too volatile to let up. So, you laid him flat on his tiny mattress and sat your weight down on his chest as you blew him. You ached to see his face, but if you took to the floor, he would surely push you away before it started to get good. 

You hollowed your cheeks out and took him into your mouth selfishly, savoring the taste of him. He filled your mouth well, prodding at the back of your throat without choking you too much. 

Your chest bloomed with warmth when the idea that your mouth was made specifically for him crossed your mind. Maybe time split you apart because the universe knew, in its omnipotent way, that a greedy girl like you would have taken advantage of sweet Tenya earlier if you could. If you were closer to his age, if he visited the house more, hell, even if you ran into him on the street, you'd probably end up this same way. His cock in your mouth, spit dribbling down your chin, and his shameful moans filling the room. 

"Stop, please," he begged through moans. His eyes were wet with tears and pleasured haze, half-lidded and heavy. He weakly pushed the back of your head, wanting to get you off of him and only pushing your head further down his length. "God, enough!"

You popped off, mouth feeling sadly empty. "Don't I make you feel good, big brother? S'my first time, but I'm trying so hard for you," you whined. "You ruined my birthday and my idea of you, gonna ruin my fun too?"

You shifted up, neglecting his cock for a moment as your situated yourself on his lap. 

"You're so sick," he mumbled, mostly to himself, as he watched intently while you discarded your top and let your tits free. "So, so, sick."

His personality may not have been exactly what you wanted, but Tenya's cock was utter perfection. Every vein along his cock slid against your walls like a bow against a violin's delicate strings, catching on each one to create a symphony of dulcet tones and wanton moans. 

You could almost ignore Tenya's mash up of angry cursing, sobbing, and groaning, but the way his nails dug crescents into your arms was unavoidable. 

"I can't believe you," he spat, eyes watering. He wanted to push you off so badly, so, so badly, but you were so snug around him. "Y—you disgusting girl."

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze. "Yes, Tenya, I'm so terrible, but," you held his hands above his head, knowing that he could break free from your grip any time he wanted, "you're worse. You're, f—fuck, taking your little sister's virginity, you know."

You lifted your hips up, just enough to tease him, before slamming them back down. 

"And you lie," you continued, words punching out of your chest while you rode him. "You aren't so strait laced, big brother. Y—you're nothing but a lying, cheating pervert." Yoy mumbled something else, vulgar and immature about how he ignored you for years and kept his cock from you too.

The sounds of your slick cunt were matched by Tenya's heavy breathing. He was getting too close for his own comfort. He wanted to last and keep some semblance of control, some meager drop of respect for himself so that, after this, he could get out of bed in the morning and not feel completely ashamed, but that wasn't quite in the cards. 

He came and he hated himself for it. Seed planted deep inside you, leaking out of your freshly grown cunt like a faucet. 

"Fuck—God, no," he gritted his teeth, hands ripping free from your hold to push you off of him. He didn't care about being rough anymore, about hurting you. If anything, you probably deserved a few bruises after what you made him do. "Don't touch me, never again."

You came to your knees, legs wobbling under your weight. "That's fine, I won't need to." You pressed your face near his, voice dropping. "When it takes, you'll have to be around. Unless you want the media to know about how you forced yourself into your poor sister. And on her birthday, too?" You clicked your tongue and shook your head.

"You're fucking crazy," he said, feeling his eyes twitch.

Unlike her previous husbands, Yuuta is cool in an effortless way. He doesn’t scold you or attempt to parent you like the rest. However, he does fret sometimes when you’re actively suppressing your sickness. His care is that of a medical professional, which you appreciate. He always seems to know when you’re not feeling well and the best way to help you regain your health. Thankfully, he doesn’t treat you like an invalid, like past exes of your mother have.

That alone cements him as above all the rest.

…. So maybe the bar is low, but it’s not as if you’ve had much luck in this department, and that’s including your mother’s rather poor attitude regarding your condition. You think you’d probably let him become your primary doctor if it wasn’t a conflict of interest, because he seems to predict the days you’ll be better and the days you’ll feel worse, like today, when he noticed you were working up a light fever.

Stubbornly, you ignored his advice and now, in the late hours of the night, you’re searching for a fever reducer because you’ve gotten worse, just as he suspected you would. You wouldn’t be so hesitant to accept his instructions, but lately, taking fever relievers has left you with… strange dreams. However, you’re not so obstinate that you’ll allow yourself to get even worse just because of an odd symptom.

It’s as you go to open the bathroom that you notice a light coming from the bottom of its closed door.

Immediately, you know that it’s Yuuta. Your mother never wakes up during the night, but your stepfather keeps late hours. He likely just arrived home from work.

You sigh and knock quietly.

As expected, he opens the door, toothbrush in hand, with a hairband pushing his wet hair back from his face, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He must have just taken a shower because there are water droplets everywhere on him. Your eye is drawn to one in particular, trailing down his collarbone to the valley between his pecs. You avert your eyes quickly before he can catch you looking.

“Hey, what are you doing still up?” Your stepfather asks softly.

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “I think my fever’s gotten worse.”

He clucks his tongue. “I told you it would.”

“I know,” you reply. “I just thought that maybe if I kept hydrated and rested, it would go away.”

His disappointed demeanor softens, not with pity, though. He reaches out to press the back of his hand to your chest, and you try not to shiver at the change of temperature. He’s always colder than you, but he is especially so, right now.

“C’mon, then, let me fix something for you,” Yuuta says as he grabs the pill bottle from the cabinet.

You follow him as he makes his way to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

Quite frankly, you don’t think you’ll be capable of keeping anything down, so you shake your head.

“Will you be able to drink something?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you answer.

You watch as he pulls out a Pocari Sweat from the fridge and takes out two Ibuprofen before handing them out to you.

Distantly, you note that the drink has already been opened, but he must have twisted it open for you when he leaned down to grab it.

You pop the pills into your mouth and wash them down with the entire drink; Yuuta smiles at you once you do.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me, or try to go back to sleep?”

As nice as dissecting a movie with your stepfather sounds, you think you’d rather just rest. You tell him so, and he nods, kissing your forehead as he tells you goodnight. Your face flushes as he brushes past you to head to the bedroom he shares with your mother, silently. It’s not the first time he’s done so, but that he did it so mindlessly makes you feel… well, you’re not quite sure, but you did like it.

Maybe, just this once, you’ve found yourself a worthy replacement for a father.

It’s not long before sleep claims you, and like always, you begin to dream such strange things.

Someone has sat beside you, stripping the covers from you, as well as your bottoms. You can’t help but notice how delicate their touch is, as if you’re something precious, and how cold it is, too. They stroke your most intimate area, and you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes or lift a limb, or even speak to tell them to stop. Though you have a feeling that even if you conveyed such a sentiment, they wouldn’t, so you merely lie there and take what it is they give you.

The stranger is focused solely on your pleasure, using their hands and mouth to bring you to completion. Their mouth is latched onto your clit, swirling their tongue around it, as they plunge their fingers inside of you rhythmically, curling them further with each thrust.

Quietly, your stranger moans your name, and it’s enough to push you over the edge. You tremble in their grip as you ride the waves of pleasure.

It goes on like this for what seems like an eternity, until you’re aching and whining weakly for them to stop, gaining just enough lucidity to do so. It’s only then that your stranger stops, but not before kissing you thoroughly.

They slip away, and your dream ends.

When you wake, your panties are drenched, and your fever has abated.

You go about your morning as usual, even if you can’t shake how disquieted your dream has left you.

Yuuta is making coffee when you enter the kitchen. He greets you with a small wave as he hands you a cup of tea. “Feeling better?”

You nod hesitantly, unable to meet his gaze for some reason.

He closes the distance between you and checks your temperature once again. “It seems like it’s gone, but be sure to keep an eye on it, okay?”

He smiles, and it crinkles his eyes in a way that, somehow, makes him appear even more handsome. You can understand why your mother originally sought him out.

“Okay,” you agree absentmindedly, mouth suddenly dry and throat tight.

You may not have a fever anymore, but you can’t help but feel sick.

The stranger in your dreams is not one at all.

you whimper. you can feel his burning gaze on you, silently observing your reactions and how messed up he has you right now. overflowing tears and saliva soaking your blindfold and gag. “be quiet. mom and dad might hear us” his voice is serene and monotone yet he has a sharp tone. your parents room was only downstairs but luckily they’re both heavy snorers and sleepers. “at this point it’s best you give up, i can tell you really like me and i really like you too big sis.” well he’s sort of right though no point in hiding it, you’re feeling way too good right now sasuke’s made you came so many times on his tongue and face you lost count. you were being consumed by pleasure and couldn’t even think straight for two seconds. 

your body’s shivering in anticipation and sasuke rubbing his clothed cock on your wet cunt was only making your cock-cravings worse. "huh?” sasuke hummed with the most aloof tone and facial expression ever, you mumbled something but due to your gag it came out incoherent. sasuke simply removes your gag, “scream… i dare you.” his cold, pale fingers in your warm mouth playing with your tongue as he threatens you with his deadly yet lifeless glare, waiting for you to make a sound but you know better than to upset your sweet lil bro, you know how cruel he can be plus you don’t wanna break your family apart. so you stayed silent, sobbed and spoke softly,

“can i go back to my room now? p-please?” you pleaded and all sasuke did was scoffed and pulled his signature arrogant smirk on. 

“i don’t know how many times it’ll take for me to fuck you into complete submissionn but let’s find out tonight shall we?”

sasuke removed his shirt revealing his slim, athletic physique then got to his pants, removing his boxers next. stroking his long, veiny prick with precum at his pink tip. ignoring all your little pleads sasuke goes right in but not before giving himself a few pushes between your folds and spitting on it. you embrace yourself and close your tired 'n teary eyes. the stretch isn’t that bad but he's still quite a handful. sasuke watches as he disappears inside you for surely not the first time, feeling your walls clamp down on him already. right after that sasuke immediately starts moving in you, confessing some very vile things that no little bro should confess to his big sis while thrusting into you.

the bed creaks with every snap of his hips too and you wonder how long it’ll take for your parents or your elder bro itachi to awake. but itachi isn’t dumb, he’s far from it actually, itachi is a prodigy. he more than likely may be the first to find out (if he hasn't already) but hadn’t said anything about it which is strange. why would itachi help sasuke keep such a dirty little secret? you couldn’t think much about it since sasuke’s tip was reaching so far in you and hitting your g spot perfectly. at this stage since he's fucked you like a whore so many times your pussy is carved into the shape his cock and as much as you hated this you also loved it. you couldn’t keep your voice in at all like how wasn’t this all so obvious to anyone? they should all know by now! that’s odd. do they not care?

“mmm lil’ bro i-” 

“yeah?”

“s-!”

and right there and then you came on your little brother’s cock without warning. you're spasming and clenching down on him but he ignores the fact that you just came and is still fresh from orgasming which makes you really sensitive, he’s still pounding into your pussy. sasuke faintly grunts and groans out curse words feeling himself nearing with each upshot. pulling himself all the way out till the tip then slamming it all the way back into you. 

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

your back arch and toes curled as he’s about to come for the first time during your season yet you’ve came countless times already. reaching down to give you a sloppy open mouthed french kiss, sasuke finishes inside you, grinding his hips into yours and creampieing you. he doesn’t pull out immediately instead cradling you with his delicate sweat covered body and kissing you carelessly. but you know your lil bro oh-too-well and one round surely wasn’t gonna satisfy him, he’ll have you up all night till sunrise and if you pass out half way he’ll still have his way with you.

but just as sasuke was about to move you into another position, you heard someone coming up the stairs. their footsteps being slow and mild making your blood run cold immediately; oh shit, we’re fucked. “sasuke someone’s coming,” you looked at your younger brother only to see that he’s not bothered instead he moves you onto your side and positions himself by your entrance. you’re scared and sasuke doesn’t even bother to stop fucking you. you bite your lip so hard that it starts to bleed just a bit. you try to remain silent as tears start rolling down your cheeks. 

you're in so much trouble, you don’t even know what you’ll say to your parents. your family will forever be torn apart and it’ll be all yours and sasuke’s fault. just as these thoughts start passing through your mind sasuke starts. moving his hips again. it’s  hard to regain focus when, even though it’s all wrong and scary it’s still exciting somehow. it's a really sick and twisted situation. yet your younger and devilish brother only wanted to reach his high again. maybe he was stressing internally?  how could he be so calm when !?- the person's footsteps stop just in front sasuke’s locked door. it’s quiet. well.. quiet except for your whimpering and moaning muffled by a pillow (your praying to god no one’s  hearing you but that’s simply impossible unless that person is deaf) and sasuke’s pleasurable sighs which he does nothing to hide.

they knock once then twice. 

you feel yourself about to pass out, thinking things couldn’t get any worse but nonono! lil bro starts making a ruckus, putting and trapping you in a full nelson fucking his come in your abused pussy. at this point the whole neighborhood could hear the heavy metal music you’re blasting. you weren’t gonna lie, although it’s all wrong and immoral your really getting off on this and you couldn’t hold yourself in any longer. 

whoever's right outside the door tries opening it but unsuccessfully as the knob is locked and turned only halfway. but with a simple click- sound and just like you came again on your lil bro’s dick.

“be quiet” 

itachi’s gruff voice startled you and you were so fucking embarrrased you couldn’t even look him in the eye. those violent dull eyes of his stared nonchalantly at the crime scene as if it was ‘nothing here to see’ without asking any questions or being freaked out at all. regardless though sasuke slowed his pace a bit but didn’t halt entirely. all you could do is sob silently in your messy state and look away.

“the walls are literally sound proof, why’re you here?” sasuke retorted. they both were like two grumpy teens and it was lowkey fun to see. you peered up from your hazy half lidded eyes at itachi, he’s staring right at you and you immediately close your eyes to avoid confrontation. itachi shuts the door behind him, takes a seat at sasuke’s gaming desk, turns on the pc and goes about his business. 

“ hope you don’t mind me borrowing your computer for a bit.” 

ah and sasuke’s back at it again, well? nothing much, just siblings having a late night together.

There were a few other incidents like these that, honestly, the both of you have somehow gotten used to it. And you’re not talking about learning each other’s schedule to avoid each other, or remembering to lock the door. 

No. 

Between the two of you, the toilet door remains unlocked since neither of you ever remember, considering how Suguru lived alone for years and you had no one to share the bathroom with for the past few years he was gone. So you often get him entering the bathroom to pee while you’re showering, sometimes even making small talk while he is at it. 

Suguru has stopped pleading with you to wear pants when you’re both home before your parents are, since you always strutted around the house in your panties and a top when it was just you alone at home. It’s not like it hurt anyone anyway. 

Instead of asking you if you needed help or if you could stop looking for your shit like this, Suguru walks past you kneeling on the ground with your ass stuck in the air as you reach for your fallen item, giving your behind a light slap with the back of his foot as a little greeting when he passes by. 

It is never serious until you realise that Suguru has been getting bolder with his actions. 

Like opening the door to the shower stall while you’re in there, just to grab his shaver as if he couldn’t wait a few more minutes. You don’t say anything or question him, even. That is until he decides he needs the toilet too despite knowing that you’re obviously in there doing something important, considering how you take a longer time in the bathroom. 

“Seriously?!” you growl, glaring daggers up at him while sitting on the toilet bowl with your legs spread wide, in the midst of shaving.

His eyes glance down to your chest, then your exposed womanhood for a split second before turning around to face the mirror. “I need to brush my teeth so I can go to sleep. I have an early start tomorrow,” he mumbles as he presses a dot of toothpaste on the bristles of his toothbrush. 

“Suguru,” you mutter, deadpan. You’re sat up properly now, although you’re still entirely too naked. You hold his gaze in the mirror as he brushes his teeth, an eye obscured by a fallen piece of hair. “Stop barging into the toilet every time I’m using it!” He makes a face and rolls his eyes as if you’re just an annoying, whiny kid. You groan loudly. “Seriously! You never see me using the toilet when you use it.”

He spits the foam in his mouth and speaks to your reflection in the mirror, his hand holding his toothbrush resting on the edge of the sink. “Yes, you have,” he says slowly. 

Your cheeks turn red. “Y-Yeah, but that was when I was drunk!” 

You had forgotten about that one time you drunkenly insisted you needed to shower now even though your elder brother was taking his bath after a client meeting that ended late. You had even made him wash your hair for you while you leaned against his cut body, swaying like a flower in the wind.  

Now that you think about it in earnest, that might have been the turning point for the way Suguru has been acting lately. 

Your brother is still staring at you stoically in the mirror, not really caring about whatever you’re complaining about. You let out a cross between a huff and a sigh. 

“It’s embarrassing, Sugu…” you murmur softly. 

That breaks him from his mean act. He washes off the toothpaste around his mouth. “Why should it be embarrassing?” 

Your shoulders bob in a shrug, dropping your gaze to the floor. The absence of your answer stretches into silence between the two of you until he moves and you notice his feet in your line of sight. Your ears pick up on the sound of his shorts shifting as he bends to his knee. His wet but gentle fingers touch your chin and lift your head so your gaze meets his. He is looking at you softly, affectionately. 

“We’re siblings,” he reminds you quietly. “You’re my pretty baby sister. You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.”

You swallow. “But still…” You glance down at your hand fiddling with your shaver but Suguru’s hold on your chin tightens, warning you to keep your eyes on him. “It’s weird.”

His shaped eyebrow ticks upward. “Not really,” he counters. He strokes your chin lightly before letting go. “I could even shave for you, Princess. Look.”

You watch his slender fingers grip the plush of your inner thighs and separate your legs. He removes the shaver from your hand as he situates himself between your legs, both knees now on the ground before you. His dark eyes stare hungrily at your puffy lips and it is only when he lifts his head to look at you, that you snap out of it. 

Panicking, you start to stand as you gasp, “Suguru! What the fuck?!”

But your brother is strong, and his reflexes are fast. He pulls you back down and gives you an innocent look. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You don’t have to be embarrassed around your big brother.”

You’re speechless in shock as you simply watch your brother’s lithe fingers brush down your minge. Licking his lips, he starts work as he cleans up the rough job you did on your crotch. You only realise that your breathing is shallow when he looks up at you. You completely stop taking in any oxygen. 

“Lean back, Princess,” Suguru murmurs. His gaze glances down to your usually rambling mouth to see that you’ve shut it tight. The twinkle in his eyes dances. “And relax… it’s just me. I would never hurt you,” he coos. Letting out a ragged breath, you swallow and do as he says, though awkwardly and unsurely. He gives you an encouraging smile. “That’s it,” he praises. You watch him shave the little stubble before his fingers tug on your inner thigh to expose your bikini line. He glances up at you. “Lift your legs.”

You do after a second of hesitation and he slides his big palms under your thighs to push them up further. Your heart is hammering in your chest at your vulnerable state, watching your brother stare at your pussy. His breathing is shaky when he lets out an exhale. 

“Hold onto your legs,” he whispers. 

Before even waiting for you to follow his instructions, he brings his hands down to your womanhood, warm fingers covering the fat of your pussy to pull it aside as he shaves your bikini line. He does the same to the other side before finally getting to where it matters. You bite on your bottom lip when he licks his fingers and brings them down to your slit, his dark gaze flickering up to meet yours as he gives your sensitive lips a stroke. Your body twitches in surprise, and his lips tilt into a ghost of a smirk. 

His movements are careful and deliberate as he parts your outer lip to the side. Your hips twitch at his finger casually stroking your smooth labia. Suguru is gentle as he shaves you clean, making sure he leaves no cuts or any rogue strand in his wake. 

You hold your breath the entire time, your fingers digging into your thighs. When he is done, you think he is leaning in to inspect his work, only to gasp and jerk in surprise when you feel a wet slob on your pussy. He glances up at you with a grin. 

“Just clearing the hair,” he states, watching you intently as his fingers spread his saliva on your pussy, his eyes twinkling at the way you bite your lip and furrow your brows, especially when he reaches your clit. You let out a hiss when he pats on the hooded nub with a finger. He lines his digit down your clean shaven flaps now and you purse your lips when he circles your puckered asshole lightly. “Want me to shave here too?”

You don’t even feel yourself nodding, entranced by your brother’s hot gaze and his searing touch. His grin widens. Eyes still locked on yours, you watch a dribble of spit release from his mouth. You feel your tight hole tighten at the warmth coating its entrance. Suguru bites down on his smirk as he massages the tight rim of your asshole, his eyes pinned on your bodily reactions.

The way your chest rises and falls noticeably as you pant, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. The way your lids get heavier with every touch until you’re watching him with half-hooded eyes. The way your fingers are turning white as you dig them into the back of your thighs. 

Suguru regrettably pulls his eyes away from you to focus on his task at hand. He scans your clean pussy, noticing a slight sheen trickling between your lips. A low grunt rumbles through his chest. But he pretends he doesn’t notice it as he starts shaving the last part of your nether region. 

He is attentive and slow, almost as if he doesn’t want to finish up, but there is only so much time he can stall before he sighs inaudibly and leans back. 

Suguru lifts his head and stares at you. “All done,” he murmurs with a soft smile. 

You swallow and nod, though you still don’t move to let go of your legs or even look away from him. It is only due to the sharp buzz of your phone on the bathroom counter that the tension snaps like a taut string and the moment is broken. 

Your brother clears his throat and stands quickly, turning his back to you but not before you notice the huge tent in his boxers. As he washes his hands and the shaver, you awkwardly move to sit properly on the toilet, no longer leaning back. 

Before he leaves, he places the shaver on the side of the sink and turns to give you his usual warm, brotherly smile. 

“Good night, baby sis.”

You look up from scrolling on your phone when your door opens and Suguru peeks his head in, brows furrowed, a few strands of hair already slipping from his tied bun. 

“Where’s mom and dad?” 

You lock your phone and put it aside. “They went out for dinner with Auntie and Uncle Kamo.” He nods his head once, but doesn’t leave. “Just ended work?”

He nods again, and you notice just how tired he looks. 

Eyes raking over your lounging form, he narrows them on you. “You eaten yet?” You shake your head sheepishly. “Shall I order something?” When he sees you brightening up, he smiles, though he still looks exhausted. Widening the door, he tilts his head to the side as an invitation, “Come to my room. We’ll order on my phone.”

As you throw the blanket off you to follow him, you ask teasingly, “Your treat?” 

He doesn’t even turn back when he scoffs and mutters, “When have I ever asked you to pay?”

That is true. Even when you had started working, he’s never made you pay for anything whether it’s a family dinner with your parents or just the two of you. 

You enter his room, and immediately settle comfortably on his bed. You watch your brother drop his bag on his desk chair before coming over to sit on the edge of his mattress as he unlocks his phone. He goes to the food delivery app and holds the device out to you, his eyes emotionless. 

“You can pick.”

You take it slowly, still eyeing him carefully. But Suguru simply goes to unbutton his shirt and pull up the sleeves to his forearms. You quickly turn back to his phone and scroll through the options. 

Settling for some Chinese food, you pick a few dishes you know your brother likes, and some of your favourites. Finally, you return his phone to him. 

“I picked some stuff for us to share.”

“What did you get?”

“Chinese food. I added rice for you,” you tell him. 

He hums as he looks through the order list. Finding it sufficient, he sends the order through and locks his phone, throwing it haphazardly on the bed. You frown at his posture, the way his back hunches, his head slightly hanging. 

“Is everything okay?” you finally ask, voice quiet and worried. 

He doesn’t look at you. “Work stuff,” he mutters offhandedly. 

You shift to rest your cheek on your hand, letting it prop your head up as you stare at him. “Want a massage?” you offer, more teasing than serious. 

He rolls his eyes and turns to glare at you, only to have his gaze drop to your hip where your shirt has ridden up to expose your panty-clad ass. You fidget under his scrutiny, especially when he traces the fabric to the swell of your hips with his gaze. He licks his lips and flickers his eyes up to meet yours.

“Let’s cuddle until food comes,” he says, not a suggestion or a question. A statement. 

Your brows furrow and you lift your head off your palm. “And that will help with your work stress?” you scoff. 

He is already moving as he answers, “Yup.”

You watch him crawl over you, your body already turning on its back. His hands are on either side of your body, his body towering over yours. He holds your gaze for a moment before he exhales with a groan and almost deflates on top of you, his head on your chest. 

You make a sound at the back of your throat when his weight falls on your body, something akin to a struggling groan. 

It is quiet for a while, your body stiff, his breathing paused. Even the sound of you swallowing is loud in his room. As you let out a slow exhale, you bring your hand down to gently rest it on his head. You feel Suguru’s body loosening up. He moves to get comfortable, nuzzling his cheek into your bosom, body shifting so he’s lying between your legs. 

But then he lifts his head and frowns down at your shirt. When he looks at you, his narrowed eyes are laced with accusation. “Is this mine?”

You look up, feigning ignorance. “No idea.”

You can feel his glare on your face but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scoffs under his breath before going back to lay his head on your chest. 

A comfortable quiet settles over the both of you as he rubs the cotton material of your shirt between his fingers while you start playing with the loose strands of hair that’s fallen out of his bun. Suguru lets out another large exhale and you feel more of his weight as he melts into you. 

His hand unsuspectingly moves to cup the side of your chest, his thumb swiping back and forth idly on your mound. He hums when he feels your heart rate picking up against his cheek. 

“Relax,” he murmurs. “‘S just me.”

You don’t say anything as you nod, but you don’t relax. Actually, you’re slightly wound up now, your five senses heightened. 

Your brother smells faintly of the cologne he always uses. The sound of blood pumping in your veins is loud in your ears. Your eyes are trained on that particular grey spot on his ceiling, the one you used to wonder how it even got there in the first place. Your tongue is pressing hard against the roof of your mouth, tasting like cotton. Your nipple perks under the fabric of your shirt, your body suddenly too sensitive and aware of how intimate cuddling with your brother feels. 

You pause in twirling his hair around your finger, breath caught in your airpipe, when Suguru slides his hand up fully cup your mound, his thumb now caressing the stiff peak against your shirt. In the quiet, you somehow feel exposed, awkward. So you break the silence. 

“Suguru,” you breathe shakily. 

“Hm?” Your brother hums, still playing with your nipple over your shirt. 

You don’t say anything else, so he stops, only to bring his hand up to find yours, still frozen with a tendril of his hair around your finger. 

“Keep playing with my hair. It feels nice.”

You do.

And he goes back to doing what he was doing. Except this time, he slips long fingers under the hem of your shirt, the callouses on his hand rough against your skin as he glides them up your stomach, then to your breast. He is in full contact with your tit now, cradling it in his big hand, feeling its weight, testing out its softness. 

You hold your breath. 

Suguru slides his index finger to your nipple now, letting the side of it flick over your peaked bud. He does it over and over before shifting his hold so that he can press down on your nipple, like it is a button on a gaming console. The pad of his finger circles the bud, toying with it lazily. 

You try not to squirm but he still feels your thigh twitch against him. You had hoped he didn’t notice, but of course he does. 

Suguru lifts his head off your chest and looks at you, eyes searching yours, though his are dark and unreadable. You’re not sure what he sees in your features, but he takes it as a sign to remove his hand from your chest, only to pull the hem of your shirt up, not once breaking eye contact. You notice a glint in his dark orbs when he catches you shifting, like you’re helping him make it easier to lift your shirt. 

When the fabric bunches up above your chest, Suguru finally drops his gaze to your exposed tit, assessing it, savouring the sight of it. And without warning, he lowers his head, wrapping his lips around your stiff nipple, his eyes once again darting up to meet yours, like he wants to judge your reactions. 

A quiet gasp leaves your lips at the wetness coating your breast, the sensation warm and lewd. Your hand drops to his nape now, fingers on his scalp, pressing, almost coaxing him to do more. 

Your brother laps at your nipple experimentally, the corners of his lips tilting upwards slightly. Suguru hums and, like he’s found a comfortable position, he tilts his head and rests it on the center of your chest now, his hand cupping more of your breast, bringing your flesh closer to his face as he continues suckling on your tit. 

You stay like this for the longest time, with Suguru kissing, licking, nipping, playing with your breast, sometimes even jiggling the fat in his hand, while you massage his scalp, occasionally tugging on his hair slightly when you feel teeth grazing your sensitive bud, letting slip soft moans and whimpers. He even gives attention to your other side, always so fair with his treatment. 

It must have been a while in this silence, the air charged with tension and your mind clouded with a haze of comfortable pleasure, because the door bell rings and the both of you freeze, startled from the daze this lazy cuddle session has put the both of you in. 

With a pop, Suguru releases your tit from his mouth and glances up at you under his lashes. You’re breathing just slightly shallowly, lips parted as you pant, eyes hooded as you return his gaze. You watch him lean down to press a kiss on the flesh of your boob and your heart jumps against your ribcage. 

“I’ll go get the food,” he mumbles before getting up. 

You watch him leave the room as he smooths his shirt down and undo his bun to redo it neatly. 

You don’t move while you listen to the mundane interaction happening at your front door. It is only when Suguru comes back to lean against the door frame of his room, his dark eyes on you and your exposed body, shirt still bunched up at your collarbones, that you finally lift yourself up on your elbows. 

“Let’s eat together?” 

You nod, getting off the bed carefully, letting the shirt fall back over your body. As you follow your brother out to the dining table, you ask softly, “Do you feel better, Suguru?”

“Hm?” He cocks his head to the side slightly, just enough for you to see his lips tilted in a smile. “Yeah. We should do this more often. Cuddle.”

You do. 

It happens every night. 

Sometimes in the evening when Suguru’s back from work, while your mother is getting dinner ready. Sometimes late at night when your parents are sleeping. 

He’s gotten bolder, even. Often, you find yourself staring in the mirror, clicking your tongue when you spot a bruise on the side of your boob. You scold him for it, and he apologises. But it doesn’t mean that he stops. 

In fact, things take a turn late one night, when he enters your room, stopping in his tracks when he realises that you’re waiting for him in just your underwear, no longer coy and pretending to wear a shirt. 

You see his throat bobbing as he swallows and shuts the door behind him quietly with a click of your lock. He pads over to your bed, but instead of climbing over you like he normally does, he nudges your shoulder with the back of his hand, lightly pushing you to the side. You frown up at him. 

“Move,” he mutters. “I wanna lie down.”

You bristle at his rudeness, but do as he says. When he has settled in next to you, the both of you just lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, the most absurd thing comes out of his mouth. 

“Wanna masturbate together?” 

You sputter, sitting up immediately so he can see the severity of your glare. “What?”

He side-eyes you, gaze flicking down to your exposed chest before his hand follows, his delicate fingers pinching your nipple that he’s gotten so familiar with. You whine in protest. 

“I mean,” he starts, slowly like he is still trying to believe his words too. “It’s not like it’s going to be worse than what we’ve been doing.”

You know that what you’ve been doing is wrong. 

It started with the little things that had began happening since he moved back in. Then it became more obvious, the wrongness of it all. The fact that your brother shaves your pussy for you, and the fact that you let him suckle on your tits like he needs them for survival. 

But this feels like too far. Crossing the line. No matter how blurred it has become. 

Seeing you balk, he caresses your nipple with the side of his index finger and murmurs softly, “You don’t have to do anything. I can touch you. Make you feel good.”

Your eyes fly to his crotch where he is already palming his cock over his pants. You gulp. 

“Just kneel here,” he pats the empty space where your back had been before you sat up. “Face me.”

He lets you think about it, patient as he plays with your breast, palm still stroking his growing tent. Licking your lips and biting down on the bottom one, you eventually move, following his instructions, though slowly, still unsure. 

“There you go, pretty girl,” Suguru coos. 

He tugs on the waistband of his shorts and briefs, releasing his erection and displaying his hard cock for the first time for you to see. 

Your breath hitches in your chest as you take in his pink, curved dick, swollen and leaking with precum already. It is big. Girthy. Long. Pretty. 

Your brother moves his hand to cup the inside of your thigh, gently caressing your sensitive skin, easing you into the idea of being touched by your brother as you let out a trembling exhale. 

“Spread your legs a little more.” You do, and he hums. “Good girl.”

With a hand wrapped around his cock, his other one slides his hand up your inner thigh, close to your crotch so that he can rub the knuckle of his thumb on your clothed pussy. A low groan of appreciation starts from his chest when he feels the warm, slowly dampening cotton of your panties. His hand lazily strokes his cock that is still growing in his palm, getting bigger, longer, prettier. 

“You can use my hand if you want,” Suguru tells you. “You can guide me. Or just let me keep touching you however I like.”

Somehow, that only makes your pussy throb under his hand and you know he feels it, because he lifts an eyebrow up at you, amused by your bodily reaction to his words. 

You don’t say anything. 

Suguru continues touching you, continues stroking himself. Soon, you’ve created a wet patch beneath his thumb and he slides the pad of his finger along your slit. 

“Pull your panties to the side. Yes, just like that.”

You watch your brother collect some spit on his fingers and bring them to your cunt, stroking and sliding along your folds, spreading his saliva all over your lips. Your teeth catch your bottom lip and you bring your free hand up to cover your mouth when a moan escapes you, your brother’s finger slipping between your labia to tease your seeping hole. 

Slowly, carefully, he enters your warmth with his middle finger. He moans. “She’s tight, huh?” 

Again, you stay quiet. Suguru bottoms out his digit, his finger reaching further than yours ever can. He strokes your gummy wall, making you moan and sit down further on his finger. 

“Feels good?” This time, you respond with a breathless nod. “Want another finger?” Again, you bob your head. 

He pulls his middle finger out of you and upon entering this time, you find his ring finger has also breached your hole, easing into you almost gently. You tighten around his fingers and he stops touching himself to caress the outside of your thigh. 

“Relax, Princess.”

You huff. “You’re always telling me to relax,” you realise, but try to breathe and loosen up anyway. 

Suguru chuckles. With one last stroke of your thigh, he goes back to pumping his shaft. “Because you’re always so nervous around me. Like I would ever hurt you.”

You drop your hand from your mouth to stroke the inside of his forearm that’s touching you. You feel his muscles flexing, like he enjoys your caress. “I know you won’t,” you whisper. “It’s just… weird.”

He hums, still slowly entering you with his two long digits, feeling your walls flutter around them as you adjust to the stretch of his fingers. “It’s not weird. Maybe wrong. But I don’t think it’s weird.”

You shoot him a weak glare but he only grins up at you. Still trying to relax your body while controlling your breathing, Suguru finally buries his fingers fully inside you. He gives you some time to adjust to his fingers until finally, you let out a long exhale and he knows you’re ready. 

You moan and sink further down on his hand when he curls his digits, his nails just lightly scratching your spongy walls. 

The room is soon filled with the wet slicking sound of Suguru pumping his fingers inside of your soaked pussy, aided by you fucking into his hand. The little mewls you make only lead to the groans that slip out of your brother’s lips without reservations. 

As his hand on his cock pumps faster, his fingers fuck you in tandem, making you rock your hips and grind down on his digits. Your hands grab at his wrist, sliding them along his veiny forearm, sometimes pulling to bring him closer. 

“You’re close?” Suguru breathes, beady eyes locked on your panting form, your hips gyrating against his hand, your body moving in waves. You nod your head, lids hooded with pleasure. “Touch your clit,” he suddenly says. 

You pause. But when your brother nods encouragingly at you, you don’t doubt him. 

Suguru observes you licking your fingers and reaching down to that sensitive pearl, his eyes intense and scorching hot. You bite down hard on your bottom lip to bar any sound that you may make, your face crumpling in pleasure. 

Just watching you touch yourself while he pumps in and out of your squelching pussy, the scene before him so obscene yet beautiful, Suguru’s hips start to move along to the strokes of his hand, fucking his hand almost desperately. 

The both of you reach your climaxes at the same time. 

Your fingers on your clit move down to grab hold of his wrist, both hands gripping tight on his carpus as you put your entire weight down on his fingers, burying them between your pulsating walls. Your trembling body falls forward to snuff out your moans on his chest, mind blank and overridden with flashes of pleasure. 

“Shit. Fuck!” Suguru curses, his fist tightening around his cock, hips spasming as ropes of white liquid spurt all over his hand. 

It takes you a while as the both of you come down from your highs, both panting to catch your breaths, mind still reeling from your orgasms. 

Eventually, you let out a hard exhale and twist your neck so your cheek is resting on Suguru’s chest, head turned to face him. Your hands loosen their grip on his wrist as you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. 

He tilts his head to gaze down at you and his chest inflates before letting out a long exhale. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You nod your head wordlessly, only to roll your eyes up to the back of your head and let out a moan when he slides his fingers slowly out of your soaked pussy. 

When your eyes refocus on him again, you realise that Suguru is sucking on his fingers. The ones that had been between your legs. 

Your heart rate picks up. 

“Mm,” he hums. “Must be those damn desserts you always have after your meals.”

Immediately, the fog in your brain clears. You sit up indignantly as you snap at him. 

“What do you mean?!” 

His lips stretch into a grin, though his tongue is still flicking over his digits. His eyes are teasing but provoking, like he’s challenging you to quip back at him again when he answers, “I mean you taste just like them. So damn sweet.” 

You flush red and Suguru laughs. 

“Get me some tissues, Princess.”

Glad for the task, you climb over him to reach for the tissue box on your night stand, pulling out a few pieces before sitting back on your heels. You stare at him, waiting for him to stop licking his fingers and give them to you, but he only holds them up like he’s brandishing a trophy he is proud of. 

“All clean,” he announces. “My other hand, babe.”

Your gaze flies down to his palm that he’s holding up now, coated in translucent white liquid. 

You feel your face burning up even as you clean his hand, wiping his cum off for him. You even polish off the droplets on his hips as you try your best not to look at his half-hard dick. 

When you’re done, you climb over him again to bin the used plies. Suguru’s warm hand circles around your bicep when you lean back again, making you gasp when he pulls you to fall against his chest. 

“Suguru!” you scold as you flop onto his body. 

He merely laughs, his other hand that had been tucking himself back into his shorts now moving to embrace you, shifting you into a comfortable position as you lay half atop of him. 

“You liked that, huh?” 

You don’t say anything, embarrassed and ashamed at the answer you have to his question. But your older brother doesn’t need to hear your response to know what you’re thinking. 

“We should do this again.” 

Despite yourself, you feel yourself wiggle until you’re lying next to his body, cuddling into his chest, head on his shoulder. “What? Masturbate together?” you ask in a disbelieving laugh. 

Suguru only hums, his fingers running along your arm idly. There is a long beat of silence and hesitation, and then you finally, truly, relax in his presence. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

You’re no longer embarrassed around your older brother anymore. 

Not when he’s seen you naked. 

Not when he’s heard you make sounds so filthy and lewd. 

Not when he’s touched you in places only an intimate lover would. 

And it only escalates. 

From just him touching you, it has become the both of you jerking each other off, him finger fucking you while you lean over to pump his cock in your fist, the both of you just watching each other with half-lidded eyes.  

Then, that mutual masturbation has turned to you getting on your knees before him, giving him a blowjob in the bathroom; in the living room when no one else is around; in his room on his bed or under his desk. And him, wrapping his arms around your thighs with his face between them, eating you out on the edge of the toilet sink; on the kitchen table after breakfast when your parents have left to play golf with their friends; on your bed with your hands in his long hair while you try to keep it down at night.

And now here you are, staring up at Suguru with dilated, trembling pupils when he forces your head away from his cock by tugging on your locks, and nearly throws you onto his bed where he towers over you, panting with desire. 

“Ever tried dry humping?” he wonders breathlessly, gentle hands already lifting your thighs and widening them. 

When he gazes down at your crotch, he laughs, just bordering on condescending and amused. 

“Or wet humping. Considering how soaked you are from just sucking your brother off.”

A shy whine had been escaping your lips when you feel Suguru’s hard length resting heavily on your clothed pussy, and it turns into a choked moan. 

His big hands on the creases of your inner thighs, Suguru presses his cock down with his thumbs. His hips start to move, sliding his meat along the saturated patch of your cotton panties. You let out a relieved moan at the friction he gives you, yet he is unsatisfied when he stops, only to move almost hurriedly to his bedside table. 

You watch him with panted breaths as he pulls on a drawer and fishes out a tube of lubricant. He finds his place between your legs again and the lid cracks open. 

Cool, wet ropes drip onto the material of your panties, soaking them through so that they cling onto the fat of your pussy, creasing between your folds. 

Suguru lets out a breathy sigh at the sight of it, his hand unthinkingly reaching down to caress your clothed cunt. 

“Suguru,” you breathe. 

Eyes flickering up to your begging face, your brother stops stalling. His hefty weight is back on your pussy, hips moving again to glide along your womanhood. 

The room is filled with your quiet mewls and Suguru’s low moans every time he moves his hips, so dirty and charged with lust. 

It always feels good doing whatever you’ve been doing with your brother, but to have your sexes finally touch, even through a piece of wet fabric, this feels like another level of bliss. Especially when he puts more weight down on your thighs and speeds up his thrusts. Hair falls from his bun. 

“Mm, Princess,” Suguru moans, lifting his gaze from where his cock is sliding on your panties to your face, his eyelids heavy. “Y’like this?” 

You bite your bottom lip as you bob your head. “Feels good, Sugu…” 

“Yeah?” he breathes. 

Your brother leans back and you watch him line the hem of your underwear before pulling the crotch aside, exposing the mess that is your womanhood. Raising his gaze again to meet yours, he takes in the way your eyes roll and your lips part to let out purrs and moans every time he slides his cock along your wet lips, no barrier between you this time. 

“Oh, fuuuck,” Suguru groans, eyes shutting with pleasure. 

This feels like a whole new level of wrong, but your mind is numb with sex-filled contentment, your body completely pliant as you let your older brother do what he wants with you. You weakly tell yourself that it’s at least not penetrative sex. 

Suguru opens the tube of lube again, adding more to your connected parts. His hands go back to your hips, thumbs pressing down his member to fit his girthy length between your folds again. You let out a whine when his cockhead catches on your clit at one long stroke of his hips, yet you cannot help your hips from moving in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your brother’s hooded eyes are unwavering as he watches you slowly crumble beneath him, eyes watery with pleasure, bottom lip almost white from being bitten down on. 

He knows you’re close. 

He’s touched you enough and witnessed too many times the face you make right before and during your orgasms. It is the most beautiful face he’s ever seen on anyone. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Suguru coos, his hand on your hip moving to cover your clit with his thumb. 

His cock twitches angrily against your wet folds at your answering mewl, too dazed to actually give a reply. Your brother quickens his pace, putting more pressure on his cock to rub along your lips, his thumb pad circling your red pearl. 

You nearly combust as a white hot flash shoots up from your core, spreading to the rest of your body. Your ears are momentarily blocked, eyes unfocused, your jaw slack with pleasure. 

Suguru never lasts long after you. 

In a few more thrusts, your brother moans your name, eyes rolled to the back of his head as he cums all over your glistening pussy, adding to the mix of lubricant and the juices of your arousal.  

The both of you take a few moments to calm down. When you do, you notice Suguru’s face getting closer as he leans toward you. A small gasp arises from your mouth just as his lips press against yours. 

Your entire body stiffens. 

Despite all the things you’ve done together, kissing is not one of them. It just feels…not right. Well, more wrong than all the touching that happens every night without fail, under an almost fever dream-like state. As if having your lips touch would mean making this whole thing real. 

Suguru’s lips part from yours slightly as he tilts his head. He comes in for another kiss, this time nipping on your bottom lip gently, tongue flicking out to give you kitten lick at intervals. You feel his cock twitching against your pussy despite his release, ready to go again. You realise belatedly that you’re staring at the long lashes resting on your brother’s cheeks, his eyes closed. 

With a hand on the bed supporting his weight, his other hand slides along your waist, gently tracing your side. Slowly, your body relaxes and your eyelids flutter shut. 

It is a small movement, but when your lips close around his upper one, Suguru moans. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue along your parted lips before entering your wet cavern. 

Your lips lock for what feels like a long time, the both of you lost in the taste of each other. It is only until you choke on your breath and a whine slips out, that Suguru finally breaks the kiss, pulling away slowly, carefully. 

You flutter your eyes open to him already staring at you, a faint smile on his lips. 

“Love you, baby sis.”

Suguru and you are lounging on the couch with him sitting up at one end of it and you sprawling across the length of it, legs propped up on his thighs, his calloused hands skimming along your shin and ankles in a light caress. 

The both of you turn when you hear your mother coming to stand behind the couch, inquisitive eyes on the both of you. 

“Not going out?” she wonders. 

Suguru shakes his head and goes back to watching the romcom movie you picked out on TV. You reply, “Nope.”

“It’s a Friday night,” is all she says. 

“So?” 

“You guys aren’t usually home on Fridays. And Saturdays,” she notes. You just shrug at her. “You two used to go out so much.”

You scoff. “When we did, you always nagged at us that we were staying out too much. Now that we’re staying home, you’re asking us to leave?”

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. “It was just an observation. I like that you guys are staying home more.” 

Finally, she leans down and pat your head, then moves to kiss the top of Suguru’s. 

“I’m going to bed. Your dad and I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Golf?” 

Your mom hums. “With the Itadori’s. Sure you guys don’t wanna come?” 

You grin at her. “Nope!” 

She rolls her eyes and turns away as she greets, “Good night. Remember to turn the fan off when you’re done.”

Suguru and you stay in the living room to finish the movie. When it ends, Suguru turns everything off while you stand and stretch, yawning. He slips an arm around your waist and drops his head to kiss your temple. Your head naturally tilts in his direction. 

“Wanna go to sleep together?” he murmurs against your skin. 

You have never slept over in each other’s bed despite what you’ve been doing. It feels all too intimate. To you, at least. But now that your brother is the one who initiated it, you hesitate. 

“Is that… okay?” you muse. 

He noses your cheek as he drops another kiss below your cheekbone, his fingers already finding their way under your top to touch skin. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? We can cuddle and go to sleep together.”

You think about it. Maybe it isn’t that bad. After all, what you do together is already considered intimate. Beyond intimate. This can’t be worse than what you’ve done with him. 

“‘Kay,” you murmur. “My room though, because yours is uncomfortable.”

You yelp when Suguru pinches your waist as he pulls away. He gives your ass a smack. “Your room is uncomfortable.”

Even as the both of you walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth, you grumble, “Mine is perfect! And it smells nice.”

The both of you continue bickering even in the toilet, toothpaste foam almost spitting at each other. In the end, you still end up in your room, because Suguru, though he can be a bit of a bully sometimes, will always give in to his little sister. 

That night, you cuddle with your brother in the most innocent sense of the word, for the first time in a long time neither of you touching each other appropriately. And even though it is your first time cuddling to sleep, it feels so natural, so comfortable, so domestic, that you fall asleep almost immediately. 

The next morning, you’re awoken by your own moans. Too late, you realise that your legs are spread wide open, panty crotch pulled aside, your brother situated in between your thighs. 

At once, you let out a long moan and your hand flies down to entangle your fingers in his locks. Suguru’s eyes fly open, though heavy-lidded, like he’d also just woken up from his slumber. 

“Mom and dad…” Your voice is breathless and rough from sleep. 

Suguru parts from your cunt and you notice how wet the lower half of his face is. 

How long has he been awake, eating you out? 

“Already left,” he reassures in a quiet gravelling murmur. 

Sliding your panties back into place, he gets up, quickly doffing his boxers before he reaches for your bedside drawer where he’s bought another tube of lubricant to be stashed in your room. 

You move to tug on the waistband of your underwear, but you’re quickly stopped. “Keep it on,” Suguru breathes. 

You don’t say anything back because he is between your legs again, his throbbing erection already leaning on your clothed pussy. He douses lube all over the both of you, drenching the thin material of your cotton panties completely. 

“I want to feel you, Sugu,” you whine, pulling on your panties once more. 

But your brother catches your wrist, his hold tight. “Oh, you’ll feel me, Princess,” is all he says, a certain glint in his eyes. 

You’re not sure if that’s a reassuring statement, or a threat. Either way, you let him lead. 

So you lay there, mewling at the feeling of Suguru rubbing his cock along the crotch of your panties. As he holds the base of his member and puts more pressure on it against your pussy, he pulls aside the crotch of your undies, allowing himself to slide his cock between your pink lips. 

Your breathing becomes ragged, eyes shutting in bliss as you bite down on your lip. Suguru slips his cock under the crotch of your panties, letting the elastic trap his length against your folds, freeing his hands to support himself when he leans down to kiss you. 

You can feel almost every vein on his dick, your own hips twitching every time your clit catches the edge of his bulbous tip. 

You’re a moaning mess, yet your brother is willingly swallowing up the sounds you make. If anything, he seems to enjoy hearing them, especially when he continuously rubs his cockhead against your sensitive pearl, just to hear more of your mewls. 

With a hand on his firm chest, you let out a whine as you turn your face away, breaking the kiss. “Suguru,” you pant, though sounding more like you’re begging, just not sure for what. 

Your brother hums and leans in to plant a kiss on the corner of your parted lips. He finally stands up tall again and stares down at his thick member grinding all over your slobbering pussy. 

“This the pair I bought for you, baby?” your brother wonders, a finger lining under your panties, the back of his digit brushing the fat of your cunt, adding to the sensation of his cock rubbing against your wet slit. 

You nod wordlessly. Suguru slips out from under the cotton fabric, letting it cling onto your pussy again, hugging every curve of your fat lips and digging into the crevices between your folds. He hums. 

“Mm… It’s so thin I can see your pussy. So pretty and puffy for me.”

With a hand circled around the base of his cock, he presses his tip on your clothed clit, drawing a line down the crease between your legs. 

When he reaches your hidden hole, you gasp and grasp at your bedsheets in surprise as he pushes his cockhead between your lips, the mushroom tip resisting the wet material of your panties and poking just slightly at your entrance. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans.

“Suguru…” you moan shakily, dilated pupils trembling as you gaze up at him. 

He pulls away, but very quickly regrets it. 

He wants to feel your thighs clench around him again like you’re not sure if you want to keep him there or to stop him from going further. 

So he makes another thrust, and you swear you feel the globular head of his cock violate your entrance, the only thing stopping your sexes from physically touching being your cotton panties that are so thin and wet that Suguru can practically feel your heat wrapping around the head of his member. 

“Sugu…” you try to call out firmly, but it only comes out in a purr. You place a palm on his pec, the tips of your fingers pressing down on his muscled chest. “S-stop. This is wrong…”

Your brother’s hand circles your wrist lightly and strokes his hand down your forearm in a loving caress. When he brings it up to your wrist again, he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, the entire time his eyes on yours. 

“It’s alright, Princess. It’s not so bad. You’re still wearing your panties, see?” 

And to prove his point, he bucks his hips again, penetrating your entrance as much as he can before the both of you feel the strain on your panties. You let out a pornographic moan, your fingers curling to dig your nails into his chest. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

You can only nod as he keeps up with fucking against the barrier of your panties. 

It does feel so good. After doing all kinds of foreplay and touching, this feels a hundred times more pleasurable. 

“Ha…” Suguru moans when he feels your walls fluttering around his cockhead. 

He lets go of your wrist and leans down to hover over you, making sure he watches the expressions on your face while he goes on to do what he does. 

And is he glad he did. 

With his tip still inside of you, he makes short thrusts of his hips. 

Your jaw falls open as you let out mewls and whimpers that put pornstars to shame. Suguru makes a mental note to record your beautiful sounds the next time. Even your eyes are glossy as you look at him, dazed and completely fucked out. 

He decides he would film you instead, because he has to enshrine everything about you in this moment when you’re being pleasured by your older brother. 

Suguru keeps pumping the tip of his cock into your pussy, enjoying your thrumming heat, savouring your moans of pleasure. 

“Ah… Suguru… yeah…” you breathe, spurring your brother on to pick up his speed. 

This only causes the cotton material of your panties to stretch more and you let out a long groan, so sure that he’s getting deeper with every thrust. 

“Fuck, Princess,” Suguru curses, quickly pulling out completely of your pulsing walls. “You’re going to make me cum.” 

Wrapping his hand around his member, he presses his cockhead on your clit. He starts fucking his fist, at the same time rubbing against your hypersensitive bud. 

You’re a moaning mess now and Suguru knows you’re close. And now that he’s felt the heat of your tight hole, he’s going to need to feel you unravel around him. 

So your brother quickly plunges back between your folds, making you arch your back and cry out in response. He has a thumb circling on your clit as he keeps fucking his tip into you, prolonging your orgasm.

His eyes are trained on the way your body trembles, the fat of your breasts jiggling at your impending orgasm; the way your eyes roll to the back of your head; the way your lips part and drool is starting to dribble down the side of your mouth. 

You look so beautiful as you come undone before your big brother. 

And his little sister will always be Suguru’s downfall. 

He pulls out of you and replaces his thumb with his red tip as he continues fucking his hand, at the same time rubbing your clit with his cockhead. 

“Sugu… feels so good, ah…” 

Your purring moan is what tips him over the edge. In the next thrust, Suguru groans out your name and cums all over your panties, soaking them even more, his breathing loud and irregular. 

You’re whining, hips bucking as he grips your waist tightly with his other hand, keeping you there. Suguru releases his hot seed relentlessly, always so much for you in spite of the daily orgasms you give each other. 

Finally, when the height of your pleasure has waned and the room is charged with your familiar pants, Suguru sighs. He presses a kiss between your brows and rolls to flop onto the mattress next to you, spent. 

“Is this really okay, Suguru…?” 

Your brother turns his head to face you looking up at him apprehensively. He licks his lips and swallows.

Reaching out to cradle your cheek, he coos, “Of course, baby sis. It’s not really sex. We’re not really fucking.” He swipes his thumb under your eye tenderly. “It’s alright, Princess.”

You nod your head, letting go of your worries and wholly allowing yourself to trust your brother. A grin slides on his face when he sees you relax. Leaning in, he gives you a loving kiss to your lips. 

After all, big brother Suguru has never been wrong. 

You’re not sure how many times, and in how many positions you’ve done this pseudo-fucking with your brother. 

It happens in the afternoon sometimes when your father is taking his nap and your mother is out getting groceries. It happens in the evening every so often when your parents have retired for the night and you’re trying to finish a movie you’ve missed out the ending on, twice, because this keeps happening. It happens in the middle of the night occasionally when you’re asleep and he comes home late after a night of drinking with his friends. 

Though sometimes, you go back to basics: the sweet finger fucking, the messy oral sex, the intimate wet humping. 

And every now and then, Suguru records these sessions. Mostly just you, but sometimes he props his phone up somewhere to document the both of you. 

You had obviously said no at first. But he coaxed you into allowing it when he swears it’s only for his own keepsake. That if he could bottle up the sounds and faces you make, he would. Instead, he has to resort to filming. 

Just like today. 

Your parents are gone on a weekend cruise and you’ve just gotten back from a dinner “date” with your brother, as he dubbed it. 

You’re lying on the bed, legs spread wide with him standing between them, his hard cock lubed up against the g-string he bought you. Suguru has set up his phone on a holder on your bedside table, filming the both of you. 

“You looked so beautiful today, baby,” your brother sighs as he stares down at you, his dark orbs holding so much love and affection. 

Pulling up the expensive cloth of your lingerie, you whine when you feel the sliver of fabric slip between your lips, providing pleasurable friction against your pussy that has you arching your back slightly. 

Suguru is pumping his member as he watches you intensely, like you could be his favourite video to watch if he was jerking off. 

Still tugging on your g-string, your brother places his girthy meat on your puffy lips and starts sliding his tip between them, letting your arousal coat his meat. You mewl when he taps his cockhead on your pussy, your sticky slick making it sound almost like he is slapping his weight on your flesh. 

“So wet, sweet girl,” he coos and clicks his tongue, as if in reprimand. “Did wearing slutty panties for your big brother turn you on?”

Your cheeks are burning, but you’re not embarrassed to reach down to stroke the smooth tip of your brother’s cock, letting him know wordlessly that he’s right. 

Suguru’s chuckle is breathy as he watches you rut your hips against the line of your g-string and his member, your hooded eyes on him though not really seeing, your chest rising and falling with the pants you let out. 

Then, he drags his cockhead down your lips, positioning himself at your entrance he has come to know so well, except this time without the expansive barrier of your cotton panties. You don’t notice him loosening his grip of your g-string. 

“Oh, Suguru!” you drawl in a lewd moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

He’s pushed his head between your lips, against the thin line of your g-string that barely covers anything. 

You’re so wet. So warm. So tight. 

“Fuck,” your brother curses. 

Your entrance is pulsing around his tip, trying to get used to his size, to get used to his heat, the raw feeling of his cock against your walls. 

You’re still trying to relax your muscles from clamping down on him when he breaches your hole deeper, scraping the bump of his cockhead and the fabric of your g-string on your gummy walls. You almost scream out in pleasure. 

“Oh, fuuuck, baby,” Suguru groans, eyes shut in bliss and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Suguru,” you breathe, voice trembling. 

Only when he opens his eyes again and lands his gaze on you, does he realise that tears are slipping down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Yet the expression you wear is not that of pain or sadness or anger at him for doing what he did without your permission. 

No. 

You’re on a high — body flushed, heart swelling and pounding against your ribcage, skin prickling with heat, eyes glassy with tears of pleasure. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Suguru growls. 

“W-why?” you whine, your hand messily reaching down to grasp at his wrist still pulling on your g-string. “You’re s-so big.”

Just as you say that last word, Suguru pushes another inch into you as he finally releases the fabric of your lingerie so it has more give to push against. You arch your back, pushing your hips out, your walls fluttering around his thick meat. 

Without the material of your panties in the way, you can actually feel how veiny he is despite that thin strip of your g-string in the way of you reaching complete pleasure. 

And fuck, did he feel good. 

“I can’t stop myself if you look at me like that,” Suguru admits, his voice almost squeaky as he endures another squeeze of your gummy walls. 

All sane thoughts leave you. Those morals that you loosely gripped onto the past few months of getting involved with your brother slip through cracks of pleasure. 

“Then don’t,” you breathe, begging. “Give me more, Sugu… please.”

Suguru feels like he could nut right there and then. 

He’s been playing the long game. Been conditioning you, been prepping you. He’s been so patient. And now you're right where he wants you to be. 

But he wants to hear it. 

He wants to hear you beg. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he grunts, breathless. 

His pupils are so blown out, but of course you couldn’t see that. Not with the pleasure clouding your senses. 

Your hips tremble when he drags his cock out slowly, only a little, just enough for you to tighten your hold on his wrist, not wanting him to leave you empty. 

“Please!” you cry up at your brother. “I want you to fuck me, Sugu… without my panties.” More tears fall from your waterline. “Without my panties,” you repeat louder, firmer. 

“But this definitely isn’t okay,” he coos in mock sadness, like he is concerned. 

You shake your head. “Please, Suguru,” you plead. “I want to…” You let out a loud moan when he pulls out again, taking his time. “I need you, Sugu. Don’t you want to fuck me?” 

That is what does it for him. 

He slips out of you in a second, followed by ripping out your g-string. Suguru breaks your hold of his wrist as he bends over to take your lips in his, his tongue already messily playing with yours. 

His other hand that’s not supporting him on the mattress reaches down to pull your g-string aside as he aligns his tip at your entrance again, this time with no obstruction at all. 

Your head tips back the moment he splits you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth parted in a silent scream. 

Suguru moans into your mouth. Fuck, did you feel like heaven. 

Grunting at how tight you’re squeezing him, he continues entering deeper into your pulsating cunt, his mind already blanking the moment his cockhead kissed your cervix, deaf to your gurgled cries at him stretching you out. 

He’s never been so deep. 

And your wet heat is making his dick throb. 

A whimper escapes your lips at the sensation of his thick meat twitching inside you, raw against the velvety walls of your intoxicating pussy. 

Suguru is immediately brought back to the present, staring down at you with your lips still parted. 

“Tongue out for me, Princess,” he breathes. 

The way your body reacts to his pet names for you only makes him smirk. The tight squeeze of your walls around him just makes him want to whisper all the sweet names he knows in your ear all day. 

Completely buried inside you still, Suguru lets you get used to his size for the first time while he laps at your exposed appendage. No lip locking, just pure spit swapping and licking tongues. 

It’s filthy. So messy. And so sensual. 

His ears pick up the sound of your cunt squelching around him, getting wetter and tighter at this sloppy tongue dance. 

He speaks around your tongue, some words muffled, “Y’like this, huh?”

You flutter your eyes to stare up at him to make it known that you’re serious when you nod your head. Suguru scoffs out a chuckle. Pulling away, he grips your chin with a tight hand, making sure your mouth stays open. 

And you watch in real time as your brother churns his saliva in his mouth for a few seconds and finally spits the slobber right down your tongue, the warm liquid sliding down to the back of your throat. A string of drool is still hanging from Suguru’s bottom lip when he lets go of your face to wipe it off with the back of his hand. 

“Swallow it, bunny. Oh, shit…” A curse rips out from the back of his throat when your walls clamp down on him again. 

You really do like your brother calling you all kinds of pet names.

Suguru keeps his eyes on you. The moment he sees comprehension behind your dazed look, he flickers his eyes down to your mouth where your tongue is curling around the remaining glob of his saliva, keeping it, cherishing it. 

And the moment you swallow it, a low growl cuts through Suguru's chest and he starts pounding your pussy like it belongs to him. Like your entire body belongs to him. 

Because you have no control over the wanton moans you make, nor the way your thighs are widening to give him more access, nor the scratches you give him on his chest with your nails. 

Everything feels so good; the wet stickiness of his hips slapping against your ass, his thick cock fucking your tight pussy, the way your body recoils with every thrust. 

Everything sounds so good; the mix of your pants and moans, the slight creaking of the bedframe with every pounding your brother gives you, the loud squelching of your pussy being impaled by your brother’s cock. 

Everything looks so good; the way Suguru is hovering over you with a tendril of hair falling from his half-bun over his forehead, the flexing of his muscles with every motion he makes, the sight of the pink, thick cock disappearing in your cunt with every thrust when you look down. 

Your back arches into a bow against the mattress and Suguru takes this opportunity to loop his arm around your waist, pulling you up against him. 

You’re just a limp doll in his arms as he supports you fully with his strength, fucking himself into you like you’re his own personal flashlight. 

You cling onto him, nails digging into his shoulders. You’re a drooling mess, eyes at the back of your head. Suguru’s dick twitches at the sight of his baby sister getting fucked dumb. He's close. 

He knows that right now, he could say anything to you, and you would probably listen. So he embraces you closer with a hand at the back of your head and buries his face in your neck, nose in your ear. You moan loudly when he takes a deep breath through his nose and speeds up his thrust. 

“Gonna cum for your big brother, baby?” he coos in your ear. He feels the change in your pulsating walls as you whimper in response. “Yeah? Want Sugu to go faster?” 

You can’t even whine at the way he mocks your childhood nickname for him. And Suguru doesn’t need you to say yes. Because he knows by the way your thighs are already tightening around his waist. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Suguru murmurs hotly against your ear. “Oh, yes, just like that, my love. Cum all over your big brother’s cock just like that. Such a good girl.”

You’re a crying mess as you unravel around him, your pussy clenching unrelentlessly on his member, thighs tight around his waist, nails embedded in his back, body jerking in his hold. 

Suguru doesn’t stop fucking you. In fact, he speeds up his thrusts. 

“Squeeze tight for me now, baby,” he coos. “Yes, good girl. Gonna cum in you, yeah, Princess? Fill you up real good?”

You don’t even realise you’re nodding your head. In a few pumps, Suguru drags out a groan in your ear as he shoots his load into you. 

On his last thrust, he bottoms out inside your cunt and presses his face in the crook of your neck as he hugs you to him, his cock twitching erratically in your orifice, pouring more seed into your womb. 

He moans your name several times but you are so out of it that you can’t hear anything but your own mewls and moans, nor feel anything but the numbing pleasure that has taken over your body. 

It is only until Suguru has completely offloaded in your warm pussy and he lifts his head to take in your flushed face, his broad hand brushing your hair away from your face gently, that you finally wake up from your pleasure-induced unconsciousness. 

You blink up at your older brother, disoriented. He smiles and drops a kiss on your furrowed eyebrow. 

“Alright, my pretty doll?” 

You let out a quiet whimper when your walls make one last clench around him, thighs tightening around his waist again. Suguru grins. He knows your weakness now. 

“So cute, angel.”

Another squeeze. 

“Trying to make me hard again, Princess?”

You shake your head in embarrassment but your walls constrict around him once more. He chuckles and you whine at him with a slap to his shoulder. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s just sit, okay?” 

Not trusting yourself to speak yet, you nod your head. Your brother turns to sit on the edge of your bed, the both of you still connected. His hands slide down to your thighs as he strokes your skin. Suguru drops his head to press a kiss to your shoulder. 

“You really alright?” You bob your head wordlessly but his brows furrow as he looks up at you, worried. “So quiet, baby. Not gonna ask me if what we just did is really okay?” 

Blood rushes up to your cheeks. You nibble on your bottom lip and look away before shaking your head. “I know it’s not okay,” you whisper. 

Silence stretches between the both of you for a long moment but Suguru doesn’t stop caressing you. 

Finally, you dart your eyes back to meet his and say quietly, “This is not right, Sugu.” 

Your brother doesn’t even know he has stopped breathing or has halted in touching you. Until you continue,

“But I want it. Wanna keep doing things together.”

Suguru finally breathes, his body relaxing again and his palms go back to rubbing along your thighs. He feels his heart expand with love and relief. 

“Yeah?”

You nod with a shy smile. He cups your cheek and leans in, kissing the tip of your nose, then your lips. 

“Of course, my love. You know your brother will always want to make you happy.”

And Suguru keeps this video of your first time together in his Favourites.

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