bigbrother!choso who would slowly start moving his way closer to touching you in ways he knew was wrong.

bigbrother choso's newfound favorite way to touch you was by holding you tightly on his lap, begging you to be quiet while he gently rubbed your clit.

your tears affected him deeply..he knew you'd like his touch if you just gave him a chance, but no opportunity after this would present itself, not if he let you go, not if he let you run away.

"I'm so sorry, I'm such a bad big brother I'm so sorry, you should be able to trust me and I'm using you I'm so sorry" was all he could whine out. this was for you and to help you understand that it is okay to see him how he sees you.

once he finally heard you let out your adorable moans, he knew that you finally started to accept his the truth, and started to move faster, a lot faster at that.

he could envision how tight you were around his fingers, but instead of taking his time and pacing himself to stop rubbing your sensitive clit, he just couldn't help but plunge his fingers in and out of your cunny at a pace no experienced person could take, let alone a virgin like yourself. ignoring your anxious whines about how you'd "pee" , that it hurts,nand that this was so wrong !

nonetheless, while holding tightly onto his free hand, you have your very first orgasm with the person you trust more than anyone in your life, and that makes him beyond happy. he hopes you'll start asking more about those guilty feelings down there and would let him show you how to make them go away.

hie sorry if this is bad um I haven't rly, been able to make anything good rn but I'm hhighkey ovulating and couldn't stop thinking about him raping me cwazy style

The first time you meet Sukuna is at a nice restaurant your parents made reservations for. Your mother is smiling at his father, Jin; both hoping that you will get along with each of his sons.

Yuji is sweet, bubbly and outgoing. Choso is kind but far more reserved and keeps to himself, except when Yuji urges him to join the conversation. And then there is Sukuna, quiet except to say comments that had the whole table falling into complete silence.

He's huge and has a menacing look across his face, eyeing you like he was measuring up how worthy you were of his time. As a third year collegiate rugby player he is a mountain of a man. tattoos streaming down his face and arms, and piercings accentuating the sharpness of his features.

Each move you make is strategic, not wanting to disappoint your mother in impressing her new beau. Everyone seems to be getting along with the exception of the broody oldest son. It doesn't help that the only chair available was seated at the end of the table, right next to Sukuna. 

Your mother prompts you to tell everyone what you’re studying in college and just as you speak up a rough, warm hand lands on the middle of your thigh. Not moving or inching any higher, just claiming its place on your lap. The look Sukuna gives you is a challenge, are you going to disrupt the peace and say something, or will you stay silent and keep everyone placated?

And you do just that. You keep the conversation going despite trying to subtly remove his hand from your leg. It doesn’t work anyway, the warm palm remains in place until he decides to move it.

After testing the waters during your first time meeting, Sukuna can’t help but lay it on heavier once your families merge and move in together after the wedding. ‘Just until you’ve graduated’ is all they asked of you all, your parents wanting to live as a real family for even just one year.

Your mother had always wanted a large family and after the incident with your father this was her one chance to live out her dream. Who were you to deny that happiness you thought. Sukuna on the other hand would have told his father to fuck off and continue living on campus but the idea of such a tempting juicy peach living under the same roof was too good to pass up.

The first day of living together and he’s already grinding against your ass as he passes by you in the crowded kitchen before heading off for practice. If you showered too late at night he was standing right outside the bathroom, catching an eyeful whenever he could. Rationalizing it as a coincidence only lasted so long before you realized he was just a massive pervert.

Then you try to avoid him, leaving an hour after he heads off to campus, showering and locking your door before he gets back home, even settling for eating in your room if you had to. Tonight you pray that he’s off at some frat party with his teammates where he can bother some other poor girl.

You’re tucked in bed, scrolling aimlessly through videos until you feel exhausted enough to sleep when you hear a single sharp knock on your door. Half asleep, you don't think twice about who was on the other side. Opening it carefully, just a sliver of light from the hallway illuminates your vision, and you see him. Sukuna towers over you and wedges himself between the door frame.

“What do you want?” you ask, disappointed that it was him at your door. You should have kept it shut. You attempt to close it but his foot blocks the motion.

“Need your help.” Is all he says before pushing the door wider and walking inside your room. He turns on your desk lamp, offering the room a small amount of light.

“With wha-“ you couldn’t finish your question due to him completely removing the tight t-shirt that covered him. You just stared, stunning and unsure of what to do.

You checked your phone, it was midnight and you knew everyone else was already asleep. “What the fuck are you doing?” mustering just enough courage to whisper angrily at him.

“I have a muscle strain. You don’t want it to turn into a full injury do you?” Sukuna asks before laying across your bed, taking up nearly the whole expanse as he lays on his stomach.

You feel sick, unsure of how you’re going to get him to leave, yet not wanting to wake up your mother when you know she has work in the morning.

“So why are you here? Go to your room.”

“I want my new baby sister to help me out. Use those pretty little hands to ease my pain.”

“I'm not touching you. Get out!” you keep your voice as steady as you can manage with the lump forming in your throat.

“Come on, be the good sister your mommy wants you to be and help me out,” he waves the arm he wants attention on, “lower left shoulder. I fucked it up during a tackle.”

He has you stuck between two impossible decisions; start a rift in the harmony your mom has been wishing for, or give in to the brute on your bed.

He lets out a satisfactory chuckle as you approach the bed and stare down at his back. There is a large bruise there, it looks painful so you’re careful as your hands ghost along the tanned skin. Your eyes trace the markings of his tattoos, hypnotized by the way they curve along his developed muscles.

“What am I supposed to do?” you ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Just massage it until the swelling goes down. If you're good, I'll return the favor.”

You let out a disgusted scoff, not trusting your speech to give him a more suitable response.

You work your fingers around the edges of his injury, listening intently for any sound of discomfort. Your back strains as you hunch over the bed to reach his left side but you don’t make any fuss, not wanting his attention brought back to you.

“You’re pretty good at this. I might have to keep you around when the season actually starts up.”

“This wasn’t even from a match?” You question before thinking better. Do not engage in conversation with him, you chide yourself.

“Hell no. This is from practice.” Sukuna turns himself over onto his back and looks at you clearly. “I’d probably have a broken tooth or a fucked up leg if this was a real match.”

You can't stop your eyes from roaming over the expanse of his chest in the low light of your bedroom, scars and bruises litter the front of him as well. “Why do it then?” you ask.

“Full tuition, room and board paid for by the college. Plus I get to break the noses of a few dickheads every week. What’s not to like?”

Just when you let your guard down and think you can have a normal conversation with him, Sukuna proves you wrong. He sits up and grabs your arm, dragging you over him onto the mattress. Within seconds you go from carefully standing away from him to completely straddling his lap.

You try to pull yourself away from him but his broad hands keep your hips in place on his lap. Each buck of your hips only serves to make him crazier. You freeze once you realize that your movements were causing a smile to break across his face.

“My clavicle hurts too. Get to work.” He punctuated with a playful but sharp smack on your ass.

You ask yourself why you’re still doing this but the way he looks at you has you pinned to the spot. His body is a work of art you regretfully notice, maybe you can just pretend it’s someone else as you get to massaging. Your hands move towards his shoulders as both a way to balance yourself and to work on the tense muscles.

You regret all of this now, wanting to go back in time and keep your door locked, wishing you had the guts to just tell your mother or Jin that you couldn’t stay in the house with his son any longer. Sukuna shamelessly stared at your tits through the v-cut camisole you wore tonight, his cock stirring underneath you.

And you bit your tongue, staying silent about the way you could feel his length pressing between your legs. The silk sleep shorts you had on did little to stop you from sensing the heavy prod of his bulge through his sweatpants.

You feel the hands on your hips tighten, fingers digging into flesh as Sukuna slides your back and forth on his lap. Each attempt to lift yourself off of him only made the movements that much more intense.

“Stop it, Sukuna.” You try to warn him despite knowing it will fall on deaf ears.

“Fuck, say my name again, baby.” He groans under his breath, eyes focused on the way your chest begins to rise and fall with each increasing breath.

“Don’t call me that,” you manage to gasp out just before one of his hands yanks your flimsy shorts and underwear to the side and makes your bare cunt grind against his hard-on.

Tears form in your eyes; a mixture of frustration, embarrassment, and the disgust at how quickly you were being affected by the bucking of his hips. He lifts a hand to wipe at your tears with his thumb before taking the digit into his mouth and savoring the salty stream running down your face.

“Baby, don’t cry. Your big brother will fix everything, just be a good girl for me, okay?”

Sukuna uses that same saliva coated thumb to press circles over your clit. You nod and throw your head back, able to do nothing except take the pleasure he’s offering, at least that’s what you have to tell yourself to stay sane.

As you get lost in the feeling of your building climax, he slips his cock out of the confines of his sweats, pulling you forward to grind on his length. You moan at the feeling of your slick meeting warm skin, taking a moment to realize what he’s just done.

Hands push on his chest for leverage, once again fighting him, but his own strong arms shift to grab the back of your thighs, keeping you trapped right where he wants you. You beg him to stop but he doesn’t listen.

“Call me big brother and I promise I won’t put my dick inside you yet.”

“No! Just stop!”

Now you have him running out of patience. Little did you know, this was Sukuna on his best behavior. You brought out something in him that he couldn’t control.

“Do it or I’ll knock on the wall until our parents walk in the room. And trust me, I’ll hold you right here,” he ruts his cock even faster against your slit, your whole body jolting with the force of his arms moving you, “and let everyone in this house get a good look at how fucked out you look on top of me right now.”

“Hnnnn-” You cry out as you clench around nothing, aching for more contact and yet wanting it to all end. “Big brother, please. I just wanna cum!”

Sukuna pulls you closer to him and his mouth sucks on your nipple through the silk of your camisole. The new angle has your clit rubbing directly along his shaft causing electric-like pulses to flow through your body.

Each nip and tug of his teeth mixed with the twitching of his cock has your head swimming. You can’t hold back the moans that slip out between your clenched jaw.

“Fuck…” Sukuna takes a moment to look down as your thighs begin to tense and shake, “you’re soaking my cock, you little slut.”

There’s no more holding back, your clit cannot take anymore of the slick friction it’s receiving. You clamp a hand over your mouth as you cry out a slew of names and insults at him while riding out your climax.

Once your hips still on their own Sukuna has you flipped onto your back, him now straddling your hips. He dips two fingers between your folds, gathering a pool of your slick to lube the rest of his cock with.

You did not get the chance to see it very well before but your eyes widen at how large and girthy his cock was. The thickness alone makes you want to run and hide. It also causes the most disgusting impulsive images of him fucking you with that big dick to run through your mind.

Sukuna positions himself between your legs, as if he was going to fuck you in missionary. One arm pressed into the mattress by your head and the other stroking his cock, all while staring into your eyes intensely.

You feel more naked under his glare now than you did on top of him with his mouth and hands roaming your body. Despite how badly you want to, you can’t look away, like you’re being frozen in place by his ruby eyes.

His face tenses, jaw ticked and brows furrowed. He grunts your name once and then you feel splatter after splatter of his cum hitting your stomach and bare pussy. The silk shorts you’re wearing are completely ruined by the stains setting in.

Your high is gone, everything turning stone cold sober. With a raised hand you unleash your anger onto his cheek. The slap was louder than you intended but not harsh enough to wipe the satisfaction off his face. He grabbed you by the back of your head, pulling your faces closer before claiming your lips. His tongue invades your mouth as you try to kick and push him away.

“You’re gonna be a good baby sister right? I’m not gonna have to show your mom that stash of weed you have in your drawers, will I?” Sukuna coos at you despite the severe threat laying underneath the sweet voice he used for you.

He’s been in your room? Of course he has. It’s no wonder the lock on your door sticks and sometimes doesn’t work at all. Sukuna had probably been picking the lock since you first moved in together. But the last thing you needed was her to hear about the weed you have. The first time she caught you smoking she nearly called the cops on you.

“What’s your problem? Why me? Why are you doing this to me?” You plead.

Sukuna gathers a stream of his cum between his fingers, smearing his spend between your folds, amused by the tempestuous expression you gave as he mixed your releases together

“Because I can. Because I want to. Because I want something that’s only mine.” He says all of this so flippantly, as if his harassment against you was destined fate. “You’re my type, you know that? Pretty eyes, cute face, smart as hell, secretly kinky.”

Your brows crease in confusion, “you know nothing about me. You’re fucking delusional.”

Sukuna finally removes himself from on top of you, putting his softened but still too large of a cock back inside his underwear. He’s half way across the threshold of your room, ready to finally leave you alone before he turns back casually.

“You know, baby sister,” he enjoys the way you cringe at that name, “your laptop and phone sync your history and logins. The shit you’ve been watching on there makes me look like a saint.”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Maybe that’s what we’ll do later. I’ll show you my collection and you show me just what makes that pretty pussy of yours so wet. Maybe your big brother will let you try some of it out with him.”

He’s taunting you and it’s working. You hate how your cheeks flush and your eyes gloss over as his deep voice hits you in ways that make you want to die.

“That’s no amateur shit you're watching. Cages, rope, anal, fucking piss and spitting. Yeah, you’re my dream girl.”

The hallway is quiet- bathed in a low light from the bathroom night light. You’re halfway to your room when the heat of him brushed your spine- his presence always felt like a weight, even when he says nothing.

You stop, but you don’t turn around,

“Leave me alone,” you say.

You mean it. You really, really do.

But your voice is too soft. It’s not a command- it’s a plea.

Sanemi doesn’t answer. Just steps closer.

You hear the faint creek of floorboards behind you, then stillness. The space between you is barely a breath now. You heart beats faster- but not from fear.

From memory.

His voice breaks the silence, low and amused, but laced with something dangerous.

“He called me uncle again. So polite. So sweet. He even has my scowl, did you notice that?”

You jaw tightens, “He’s Genya’s son.”

“Is he?”

That gets you to turn.

He’s so close your breath catches. His pale eyes glow, and the smirk on his mouth makes your stomach twist.

“You think no one sees it,” he murmurs, “but I do. He smiles like I do, laughs like I do. He looks up at me like he knows.”

“Stop.”

“He’s mine.”

Your throat tightens. Your chest rises and falls too fast.

“He’s Genya’s,” you whisper. “He’s always been Genya’s.”

Sanemi’s hand brushes your hip- so casually, like it doesn’t burn, like it doesn’t make you tense.

“Didn’t realize you could still shake like that around me,” he says.

“I’m not shaking.”

“You are.” He steps forward and your body reacts before your mind. Your hand rises to his chest- pushing gently.

He stops, but doesn’t take a step back. The heat of his body radiates through his clothes. Clean linen, faint sweat, and the memory of a hundred nights you never talk about.

“This is over,” you whisper, pressing your palm harder against him. “You and me- we ended that years ago.”

He leans down, his breath hot. “You mean you ended it.” His voice is bitter. Wounded.

You shut your eyes. Don’t shake, don’t react. “Because it was a mistake,” you say.

“Bullshit.”

You flinch. His voice is rough- not angry. Not yet anyway.

“You had my kid. And you think I’m just going to keep playing pretend while he runs around calling me uncle?” You force your eyes to meet his.

“Yes. Because if you ever loved your brother- if you ever respected me- you’ll leave it alone.”

He looks at you like that word- respected- offended him more than anything else you’ve said.

“I do respect you,” he says. “I respect you so much I stayed quiet. I didn’t tell Genya. I didn’t tell him. I didn’t even try to take you back.” He leans in closer. “But you keep coming back, wearing my kid on your hip like I’m supposed to forget where he came from?”

“Stop it.”

He doesn’t.

“You’re trying for another,” he murmurs. “You think I can’t tell? You’ve been glowing lately. Eating healthier. Clinging to him. You’re ovulating, aren’t ya?”

Your eyes widen.

He smirks, eyes flickering over your face, hungry. “See? I recognize things that he doesn’t. I see you.” His fingers brush the side of your waist- light and testing.

You twist, but he grabs your wrist, rough enough to still you. “Let me help,” he says again, softer now. Almost gentle. “Let me give you another.”

You shake your head, but the world feels warped, like the floor isn’t beneath you anymore.

“I’ve imagined it.” He breathes. “The way you look carrying my child again- knowing it, owning it. I’d treat you so well. You wouldn’t have to lie about who made you swell.”

Your knees threatened to buckle. His voice is too close to your skin. You hate how your heart stumbles in your chest. You hate how he knows it.

“We both know you’re not gonna walk away,” he says, like it’s a fact. And then his fingers reach for the hem of your shirt, lips hovering yours.

Your breath hitches. But you don’t stop it.

His fingers hook under your shirt, tugging it up slowly, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. You feel the cool air of the hallway on your flesh, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from Sanemi’s body as he presses closer. His lips brush yours- not a full kiss, just a tease.

Your breath catches again, sharper this time, and your hands fist in his open shirt, pulling him in even as your mind screams to push him away.

“Sanemi,” you murmur against his mouth, but it comes out weak, needy. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his free hand sliding up your side, thumb grazing the underside of your breast through your bra. “Say my name like you mean it. Like you need this.”

You shake your head, but your body arches into his touch. He lifts your shirt higher, bunching it just below your chest, and his mouth lowers- not to your lips, but to your neck. He inhales deeply, before his teeth scrap over a certain fading mark. You gasp as his tongue flicks out, tracing one of the purple bruises.

“These,” he growls, nipping harder, “from him? Trying to fuck you like he can?” His voice drips with possession, anger simmering beneath the words. “Pathetic.”

“They’re from last night,” you say, voice trembling, but you don’t pull away. Your fingers dig into his shoulder instead, holding him there. “We are… we are trying." You confirm his earlier claim.

Sanemi’s eyes flash as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand cupping your jaw roughly. "Trying. Right. With his useless cock that can't even get you pregnant." He yanks your shirt up further, exposing your bra, and shoves the cup down, freeing one breast to the dim light. His mouth latches, sucking hard over another hidden mark lower on your chest.

You whimper, the pull sending sparks straight to your core.

"I'm covering these," he mutters against your skin, teeth grazing as he bites down, marking you once more. The fresh hickey blooms, overlapping the old one, his way of erasing Genya's claim without a word. "Making them mine again. So when you go back out there, glowing with my cum inside you, he'll see my work and not even know."

You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks- and lower. "Stop talking like that," you breathed out, but your hips shift forward, seeking friction against his thigh that's wedged between your legs. The hallway feels too exposed, the distant laughter form the garden a constant reminder that anyone could wander in, but the thrill only makes your pussy clench with anticipation.

He smirks and releases your breast with a wet pop, the skin now red and throbbing. "You love it. Dirty little secret- letting your brother-in-law fuck a baby into you while your husband's out there playing daddy to my son." His hand dips lower, fingers working the button of your shorts open with practiced ease.

He shoves them down your hips, along with your panties, letting them pool at your ankles. The cool air hits your bare skin, but Sanemi's palm is there immediately, cupping your pussy possessively.

"Already soaked," he says, voice rough with hunger as he slides two fingers through your folds, coating them with in your slick. "This pussy knows who it belongs to. Not his. Mine. Dripping for the man who can actually fill it up."

"Shut up," you hiss, but your thighs part wider, giving him better access. He circles your clit with his palm, slow and teasing, while his fingers press at your entrance, not pushing in yet. You rock against his hand, chasing the pressure, your breath coming in short pants.

Sanemi's other hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck. He sucks another hickey there, harder this time, his teeth marking the skin as his fingers finally thrust inside you. You cry out softly, but he clamps his hand over your mouth, muffling the sound.

"Quiet" he orders, eyes locked on yours. "Don't want Genya hearing how good I make you feel. How you cream on my fingers while he's clueless." He pumps his fingers deep, curling them to stroke that spot inside that makes stars appear behind your eyelids. Your walls flutter around him, arousal dripping down his hand as he works you.

You nod against his palm, eyes watering with the intensity, but you grind down harder, fucking yourself on his fingers. The shame burns hot in your blood- but it only heightens the pleasure, making your clit throb under the heel of his hand.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, adding a third finger, stretching you wider. "taking it so well. Imagine this with my cock- splitting you open while I pump you full. You'd look so pretty, belly round with my baby again."

His shameless words spark your orgasm fast, coiling tight in your core. You moan into his hand as your pussy clamps down on his fingers. He doesn't stop. He’s thrusting them faster, rubbing your clit in tight circles until you shatter. Your juices soak his palm, legs trembling as you ride it out.

He pulls his fingers free slowly and brings them to your lips. "Taste yourself." he says, pushing them past your teeth. You suck obediently, tasting the tangy flavor of your release with a moan.

His eyes darken further, and without a word, he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider despite your shorts tangling at your ankles, and lifts one of your knees to bury his face between your legs.

His hot breath teases you before his tongue laps at your folds to collect every drop of your cum. You gasp, tugging on his hair as he laps at your pussy slowly at first, savoring the taste, his eyes locked upward to watch every twitch and gasp that escaped you. You couldn’t help it- tugging his hair closer as your hips bucked, grinding down against his mouth in desperation.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, vibrating against you as he watched you lose control, your face flushed and eyes half-lidded in pleasure. He sucks your clit into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you buck. "Fffuck…" he groans against you. "Tastes just like I remember. Sweet and filthy, all for me."

He devours you, tongue thrusting inside, fucking you with it while his thumb presses pressure on your swollen clit. He’s watching you wither, The wet sounds fill the hallway, it’s too risky, but he doesn't stop- he’s sucking, licking, nipping until your knees buckle and another climax rips through you. You bite on your own fist to stay quiet, body convulsing as you flood his mouth, and he drinks it down, humming in satisfaction.

He rises, your arousal glistening his lips and chin. He frees his cock with one hand, veined and leaking pre-cum. He spins you around, pressing your chest to the wall, your ass out toward him. He kicks your feet wider, your shorts limiting your movement but not stopping him. His cock nudges your entrance.

"Say it," he growls, rubbing the head through your wet folds, "Tell me you want me to breed you. Right here, where anyone could catch us."

"Sanemi…" you whisper, but you push back, trying to take him in. "I can't…"

He thrusts forward anyway, burying his length in one go. You gasp, the stretch burning so good, and he slaps a hand over your mouth again. "Liar," he pants, pulling out and slamming back in. His balls slap against your clit, and the overstimulation makes your eyes roll back. "This cunt is begging for it. Squeezing me like it never wants me to leave."

He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against your ass, the wet sounds of him fucking you echoing in the hallway. Each thrust hits deep, the head kissing your cervix, and he angles to grind against that spot inside. His free hand roams your body- squeeezing your breast, pinching your nipple, then sliding down to grip the plush on your stomach.

"Feel that?" he grunts. "I'm gonna flood you, make sure it takes. Another kid- mine - growing in you while he raises it."

You shake your head against his hand, but your body betrays you, clenching around him, another orgasm building already. The possessiveness in his time, the anger at the marks, the dirty secret of it all- it pushes you higher. He bites down on your shoulder, claiming every inch he can without being too obvious.

"Cum for me," he demands, fingers flying over your clit. "Milk my cock, take what you need."

You do, shattering around him with a muffled scream into his palm. Your pussy spasms, gushing around his thrusts, and he groans, feeling you pull him deeper. He pounds through your climax, chasing his own.

"Fuck- here it comes," he rasps, burying himself to the hilt. His cock pulsed, hot cum erupting inside you. He holds you flush against him, grinding to push it deeper, ensuring it coats your womb. Pulse after pulse, he fills you, his cum starting to overflow as it leaks down your thighs.

He pulls out slowly, his cum dripping from your hole, and rubs the head through the mess, mixing it back in. "Not enough," he mutters, "Gotta make sure it sticks." He thrusts back in, the slick making it easier this time. The second round slower- long drags that make you whine into his hand, overstimulated but craving more.

He works your clit up again, mouth on your neck adding another layer of dull marks. "Look at you," he whispers harshly. "Covered in my bites, stuffed with my cum. You're mine. He can fuck you all he wants; but he'll never give you this.”

The words sting, but ignite you. You cum again, harder this time, vision blurring as tears stream down your face in pleasure. Your legs nearly give out but Sanemi holds you up, thrusting through it until he follows, mixing his second load deep inside.

He stays buried for a moment, breathing ragged against your ear. "You'll let him touch you again after this, won't you?" You look back at him, eyes hazy, lips parted. You don't answer. You can't. He doesn't need you to. "Good," he says, voice slick with something awful.

"You're already pregnant. I know it. But you'll let him believe it's his. Just like last time."

He pulls out with a groan. Then, gently- almost admiringly - he turns you to face him, one leg over his hip, he’s keeping you open. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting it up as his mouth crashes on yours- tongues tangled wildly while his fingers push the escaping cum back into you, plugging you briefly.

A muffled moan escaped you as he bit your lower lip hard enough to sting, drawing a gasp. He sucked on it soothingly before delving back in, gently this time before letting go.

You slump against the wall, body humming, marked and filled. He helps you pull up your shorts, tucking himself away, but his eyes promise this isn't over. “Go back to the party,” he says low. “Smile for him. But remember who you really belong to.”

Your legs wobble as you straighten your shirt, the fresh hickies throbbing under the fabric, his cum warm and sticky inside you. The hallway feels smaller now, suffocated with your secret, as you slip back toward the laughter outside. Each step sends a jolt through your core, the fullness a constant reminder of what just happened—of Sanemi's possession. Guilt twists in your gut like a knife.

How could you do this again?

To Genya, who loves you so purely, who holds your hand and dreams of a bigger family without a clue that his brother has already stolen that from him once. Your son—their son, in the eyes of the world—laughs in the garden, innocent and oblivious, and the thought of betraying that trust makes your chest ache. But beneath the shame, there's a dark thrill, a twisted satisfaction in the way Sanemi knows your body better than anyone, in the promise of his child growing inside you once more.

You hate yourself for it, for the way your pussy still clenches at the memory of his tongue, his cock, his bites.

-

As you step into the warm light, you spot Genya by the gazebo talking with Tanjiro and one of the old slayers. The moment he sees you, his smile softens.

He breaks away.

“Hey- hey, are you okay?” He asks, voice gentle as his hand fines the small of your back. His brows knit with concern as he studies your face. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

You try to answer, but your voice sticks in your throat.

So you smile. It’s weak.

“I’m alright,” you say, wrapping your arms around him. You hold him like you can borrow his steadiness for a few more seconds. “I’ll tell you later.”

He nods, misreading your silence for emotion.

His hand rubs your back. A warm, reassuring gesture.

“Maybe you’ll feel better when Sanemi comes back,” he says softly.

Your heart drops.

“…What?”

“He left a while ago. He’s grabbing more sake, he knew a place that’s still open.”

Your breath hitches.

Your lips part, ready to object. Ready to say that it isn’t possible, that he couldn’t have-

But then the front gate opens behind you.

And he’s there.

Sanemi steps inside like he’s been gone for half an hour instead of five minutes. He’s carrying a box of sake in each hand, bottles slick with condensation. He looks perfectly casual.

“Hope I didn’t miss anything,” he says grinning as he walks in. “This place had the good stuff. Figured you’d want to share.”

He tosses one of the bottles toward Genya, underhand, smooth and sure.

Genya catches it with a laugh, eyes lighting up.

“Perfect timing,” he say. He cracks the lid, then turns to you with a smile. “Here.”

He holds it out… and you take it.

Your fingers curl around the cold glass a little too tightly. Your lips tremble as you raise it to your mouth, but you drink anyway. Because anything else would’ve been weird. Because you don’t know what else to do.

Your mind races, trying to make sense of how he got there so fast. How he looks untouched. Unbothered. As if he wasn’t just fucking you hard enough to make you wobble in the hallway not even five minutes ago.

You know the truth before the question finishes forming.

He planned this.

The bottles were ready. Iced. Stashed in a trunk or under a bench. He timed everything. He always does.

Insane.

Your son breaks through the legs of the guests and runs toward him, laughing.

“Uncle!”

Sanemi kneels, scooping him up with ease.

“There’s my favorite kid,” he says, loud enough for you to hear. Then in a softer voice, he jokingly holds up his sake bottle as if offering it to the kid, “You want a sip when you’re older? Just don’t let mom find out.”

The others laugh, even Genya chuckles beside you.

Only you can hear the edge in Sanemi’s voice. The dare.

Only you feel the way your body reacts, even now.

And without meaning to, your hand lightly settles over your stomach.

The gesture was simple, almost nothing.

But his eyes catch it.

And he smiles.

Not sweet. Not smug.

Triumphant.

He stays chatting with the others, still holding your son, still joining the fun, pretending like all of this is perfectly ordinary.

But he never looks away from you.

Because in this moment- his drink on your lips, your child in his arms, and another one maybe already growing inside you-

he keeps winning.

-

Bonus:

The party ended on a blissful note, the garden lights flickering out one by one as laughter faded into quiet goodbyes.

You and Genya worked together to tidy up the house- stacking sake cups, folding blankets, the simple things to anchor the storm inside you. Your body still hummed with the echoes of the hallway, Sanemi’s touch on your skin, his seed a heavy secret between your thighs.

But you shoved it away.

By the time you’re both ready for bed, the house was still. Your son already asleep in his room, his little chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths. You pause there, just a moment- watching him. He’s the only thing in your life that grounds you. The only thing in your life you still feel worthy of.

You kneel beside him. You smooth his hair back with trembling hands.

He looks like Genya.

But he doesn’t.

You swallow hard and press a kiss to his forehead. Try not to cry. You’re not allowed to cry. Not tonight.

When you return, Genya is already sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, hair a mess from rubbing it with a towel. His eyes are soft when he looks at you.

Gentle.

Loving.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Was everything okay? You were gone a while at the party.”

You force a smile. It’s weak.

“I just needed air…”

You have to say more, find an explanation.

“Tengen mentioned how Hina’s expecting… I just got a little emotional is all.” Not a complete lie- the pang of the announcement had stirred something raw in you earlier.

He stands and crosses the room to you. His hands touch your shoulder, then your waist. You stiffen before you can stop yourself.

He notices.

“You’re tense,” he says. “Want me to help?”

You nod. Because you have to.