#stepbrother

You weren't sure what to think when your dad started dating Angela. He had seemed devastated when your mom left him, jetting off halfway across the globe with her new Italian toyboy, and leaving you, and your dad behind. Your dad had a few “girlfriends”, if you could even call them that. More like women that entertained him for a few weeks or months and then joined the others on his “been there done that” list. But he seemed to really like Angela.

You did too, she was nice, quiet but always welcoming, cooked a mean carbonara. But she treated you sweetly, like you were the daughter she never had.

Her son was annoying. Kurt was constantly glued to his phone like a teenager, refreshing his YouTube page to see if anyone new had followed him. Spoiler alert, they hadn't. And you weren't surprised. His channel consisted of videos of him reviewing water for Christ's sake. You'd watched his YouTube videos, mostly to find something that you could tease him about, his awkward stuttering in his room tour, the way his mom interrupted his review videos, the way he tried to promote his music as if it didn't sound like that one skeleton from Skyrim layered a hundred times.

The other problem with Kurt was that he was exactly your type. He was awkward, and shy, and had that floppy brown hair and hazel eyes combination that made your toes curl. He was the kind of guy that you would absolutely eat up if you met him in a bar or online. But now, his mom was dating your dad, and technically that made him your stepbrother, even if they weren't married, the line was there.

Sometimes, Kurt would stream while you were having your “bonding time”, enforced upon you by your parents. Kurt still lived at home with his mom. But you had your own apartment, you'd moved out when your parents split, because living with your dad was just too depressing. You'd have to go with your dad for “family” meals at Angela's house, and Kurt would be streaming in his bedroom while you sat on his bed, playing on your phone.

Sunday evening, you were barely paying attention to him as he read out messages from his stream, and answered them as he fidgeted with his rubix cube. Your ears caught the end of one of his sentences.

“..mom's boyfriend’s daughter.” He said, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched his screen, anticipating more messages. He was talking about you.

“What?” You said, startling him slightly as you threw down your phone and shuffled to the edge of his bed (floor mattress) and looked at the screen.

“They were just asking who you were.” He said, gesturing at the screen before turning back to read the messages that came through.

“No, don't be gross.” He said, wrinkling his nose as he read the message that flashed up. You leaned forward to read it.

User69: stepsis video on the OF would go crazy bro

“The OF?” You furrowed your eyebrows before you clocked on. “Onlyfans? Kurt, you have an Onlyfans?” You scoffed, your eyebrows shooting up as you smiled slightly, watching the flush creeping up his neck as he tried to delete the message.

“N-no. It was a joke. I don't-” he stuttered, clicking furiously as you laughed again.

“But you're a virgin aren't you? What is it just videos of you jerking off?” You said, your eyes flicking from the screen to his as he turned around to glare at you. His eyes locked onto yours and his jaw tensed.

“Don't.” He hissed before turning around to the new messages.

badgamer231: ooohhhhh! Stepsis taking your v card would go viral bro

“Stop it.” He said when you laughed again, his cursor moving to the button to end the stream before he turned in his chair to look down at you again.

“Why would you say that? It's not funny.” He said, refusing to meet your eyes and staring down at the floor.

“It is kinda funny.” You shrugged, picking up your phone again.

Kurt grumbled something unintelligible and turned back to his computer as you scrolled through your phone, laughing softly under your breath.

You watched him over dinner, the way he slumped onto one hand, his cheek squished against his palm, eyes fixed on his plate as he pushed potatoes around with his fork.

You were staring. You knew you were, watching the way his fingers held his fork, the way his fingers threaded through his hair behind his ear. You flicked your eyes away when he looked up, looking down at your own untouched plate.

When you risked a glance back up, he wasn't still looking at you, but his cheeks had turned a little pinker.

That was the first inappropriate thought you had about him, when you saw the flush on his cheeks, you imagined it in another context, his head thrown back, breathing heavily. You almost choked on your chicken and grabbed your water like you could wash the thought out.

Everyone looked at you as you coughed.

Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of you that night, lying in bed and drumming your fingers against the side of your phone. It wasn't… that wrong to be curious. He wasn't actually your step brother. Just the son of another woman your dad would get bored of in a few months. You found his Onlyfans linked in his YouTube profile. It wasn't an obvious link, you had to click through several until you found the right one. You huffed irritably when you had to sign up to the site, and half way through putting in a password, you almost stopped, almost registered what you were about to do.

Almost.

Kurt's page appeared once you'd signed up to the site. His profile picture was the same one he used everywhere, in that dark blue, camo print sweatshirt he always wore, holding up a peace sign. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply before your thumb scrolled down his page.

The first video you saw was the most recent post, made just two days ago. It started out with him setting up the camera in what you recognised as the bathroom at his mom's house. He didn't talk, which was the weirdest part of it, the Kurt you knew didn't shut up. Ever. You watched the video as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head, his back to the camera, showing his little moles that dotted his back like a constellation.

He turned and your eyebrows shot up when you saw the hair on his chest. That hadn't been something you expected. You'd expected him to be smooth, but the hair was dark, and thick. You blinked as your eyes moved over his frame on the screen, his soft stomach, the way his hair was flopping into his eyes. You watched his hands move to his sweatpants.

This was the point you should stop. You should turn off the video and never look again. This was a line you couldn't uncross.

You didn't.

Kurt's sweatpants fell down his legs and your mouth fell open with them. Another thick, dark patch of hair framed his cock as it sprung up, standing erect, flushed, pink. Thick. You swallowed as you watched him wrap his hand around the base of his cock. You knew how big Kurt's hands were, so to see still more than half of his cock visible meant that the thing was big.

You passed the point of no return when he moved his hand, stroking himself slowly, his eyes watching himself in the camera.

Your tongue ran over your bottom lip as you watched his head fall forwards, hair hanging in his eyes as he stroked himself. Then he moaned. A soft, pathetic noise. You felt the throb between your legs at the noise, and your thumb hovered over the pause button on the video. But you didn't press it.

You watched as he climbed into the shower, the water droplets beading down his shoulders, his chest, catching in the patch of hair. His head tilted back into the stream as his hand stayed wrapped around his cock, his pace increasing slightly. You didn't register the way you were gnawing on your bottom lip until you tasted blood.

His cock had grown harder, the tip had darkened, the vein underneath had swollen. He stroked himself faster, another moan falling from his throat that sent another throb between your legs, your thighs pressing together. He flipped his wet hair back, running his free hand through it as he leaned back against the tile wall.

His moans turned to whimpers, and your mind went blank, your hand slid underneath your pyjamas. Your fingers brushed your clit, swollen and sensitive, before moving down through your soaked folds.

On your phone, Kurt's head tilted backwards, soft gasps and whimpers fell from his lips. His hand moved faster, and you moved your fingers back up to your clit, your lips parting as you watched Kurt’s stomach tensing with each slick noise of his hand. You slid one finger inside yourself, curling upwards as your thumb circled your clit.

You watched as Kurt whimpered, his free hand curling into a fist by his side as his cock twitched, growing harder before he was cumming over the tiles, spilling over his own hand, with the most pathetic whimper you'd ever heard, and a soft, breathy “fuck”.

You scrolled to the next video as your finger moved, thumb circling faster, your core tightening. A closer up angle of his cock, thick and leaking. You watched a string of spit fall into frame, landing on the tip of his cock, and dripping down his length.

Your back arched as you came, you clenched tight around your finger, a soft moan spilling from your lips.

You lowered your phone to the bed, breathing heavily as you stared up at the dark ceiling, processing that you had just made yourself cum to your (kind of) step brother's jacking off videos. You rolled over, pressing your face into your pillow, the best case scenario here was that you suffocated. But you'd also take falling asleep so you didn't have to think about what you'd just done.

In the week that passed between when you found his videos and when you saw him again, you watched him every night. You watched every single one of his videos, jerking off in the shower, the car, his bedroom. The noise of his moans was ingrained into your brain. And you had made yourself cum every single night, listening to his moans, watching his throbbing cock, and his flushed cheeks.

You couldn't look at him the same. Every time your eyes met his, your mind supplied you with the image of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and lips parted around soft whimpers.

You flinched as his hand touched yours when you were helping clean the dishes, pulling away like his touch burned you, even though it was brief and barely there.

“Okay, I'm not contagious.” He huffed, grabbing the plate from your hand a little rougher than necessary.

“Might be.” You answered, scrubbing at an oven dish a little harder than you needed to. Unable to focus on the task, because all you could do is fixate on the way he was standing a little too close, the smell of his body spray, the way his hands curled around the drying cloth.

He shot you an unimpressed look, but you felt it linger. You felt the way his eyes traced your profile, dragged down the silhouette of your throat.

It was the first look you felt. But it wasn't the first time he'd appreciated you.

You started to notice it more then. The little glances, the way his eyes would linger on your mouth after you'd stopped talking. You noticed him watching you when you helped Angela with the dishes as the sun set outside the kitchen window, spilling golden light across your shoulders.

The summer had been the hottest on record for a long time, and you never thought to bring a sweatshirt or hoodie for when these evenings got colder. You sat on the steps of the house, finishing up your cigarette as you felt the chill of the evening settling over your skin. The door opened behind you, and Kurt stepped out of the house, letting the door close softly behind him.

He offered you one of his sweatshirts. He held it out towards you, unprompted. “S’getting cold.” he muttered.

You recognised the sweatshirt. It was the same dark blue camo one he wore often. You placed the butt of your cigarette between your lips as you took it from him, mumbling your thanks as you inhaled again, then flicked the cigarette away, and pulled the sweatshirt over your head.

“They're bad for you.” He said, nodding towards your extinguished cigarette lying in the dirt.

“Uh-huh.” You hummed, glancing up as he stepped down and then lowered himself to sit on the step with you.

“I have this.” He said, pulling out a chunky vape from his pocket. “You can put all different flavours in it.” He said, turning the vape over in his hand.

You looked at it and raised your eyebrows, not impressed, not by any means, even though that's what you could tell he was going for. “What flavour is it right now?”

“It's, um, cotton candy. I think.” He said, still looking down at the device in his hands before jokingly offering it to you. “Can try it if you want.” He scoffed.

You looked between him and the vape before lifting your hand and taking it from him. His eyes locked onto the way your lips wrapped around the mouthpiece, you hadn't wiped it first, just put your mouth where his had been.

The vapour filled your mouth as you inhaled, then exhaled through your nose, blowing out the cloud of sickly sweet smoke. “That tastes like shit.” You said, handing it back to him as you cleared your throat.

He took it gingerly, his fingers tapping against the side before he glanced at you. He caught your eyes as he lifted it to his own mouth, pressing his lips against where yours had just been. You didn't mean to drop your eyes to his mouth, but when you realised you were watching, you stood abruptly, and headed back inside without another word.

Kurt's Onlyfans account stayed open on a tab on your phone. You had watched every video, you watched the new ones as he uploaded them, and found yourself cumming along with him every time. Most of the time you didn't even remember your hand sliding between your thighs, only after, when you had to withdraw your two soaked fingers and turn off Kurt's whimpering, did you think about what you were doing.

But you didn't stop.

You found yourself fucking yourself with your dildo, imagining Kurt's cock instead. You wore his sweatshirt and rode the dildo, crying out his name as you came. You knew you were only making things worse for yourself when you inevitably had to see Kurt again.

Sunday rolled around again, and you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, avoiding Kurt's eyes at all costs. You almost choked on your food when his foot accidentally brushed yours. His cheeks flushed bright red when your fingers touched his as you passed him the pepper.

After dinner, when the dishes were drying on the rack, and the light was fading, turning the skies pink. Your dad announced that himself and Angela would be heading out to the bar. They said they wouldn't be long, that they'd only be staying for an hour or two, just to see some friends.

Leaving you and Kurt alone in the house.

It was a little awkward to say the least. Unlike any time that you and Kurt had been alone before. Usually he would take himself off to his bedroom and play video games, and you would stay in the sitting room. But he didn't leave this time. He sat next to you on the couch.

“Do you… um..” he said, shifting himself awkwardly, his knee bumping yours in the process. “Do you wanna watch a movie? Or.. something?” He asked, his head turned towards you but not quite looking at you.

“Sure.” You cleared your throat, sinking further onto the couch, crossing your arms over your stomach. He picked up the remote and opened Netflix, swallowing thickly as he looked away from you.

“What do you wanna-”

“Whatever.” You cut in, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you kept your eyes focused on the TV. You daren't look away, not when you knew what he was hiding under those sweatpants. Not when you knew the two of you were alone. He nodded slowly, flicking to whatever came up first that he hadn't seen already, it ended up being a horror movie.

You watched mostly in silence, both of you just staring at the screen. You could feel every time he looked over at you, his gaze heating your skin. His knee was only inches from yours, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, you could smell whatever he'd doused himself in before you arrived today. You could hear his breathing, soft and shallow, and the occasional movement of his tongue wetting his bottom lip.

“That guy's in something else.” You blurted out suddenly, so suddenly that it startled Kurt and his head snapped to you. You finally met his eyes, fumbling your hand on the arm of the couch to find your phone.

“Yeah, well.. h-he’s an actor, they tend to do that.” He said, smiling weakly at you as you glared at him.

“M’gonna Google it.” You hummed. Kurt's eyes dropped, watching your thumb unlock your phone. He watched you tap on the internet browser. And he froze.

He only saw it for a split second before you swiped it away, locking your phone and mumbling under your breath. Your heart thumped in your throat, panic and shame flaring in your chest.

You'd forgotten to close the tab with Kurt's Onlyfans open. And he'd definitely seen.

“What wa-”

“Nothing.” You interrupted him, staring at the TV as if you focused hard enough, it would swallow you in, and you could die a death less horrific than Kurt finding out you'd seen his videos.

You felt his eyes burning into the side of your head, and your heart kicked in your chest as you felt him shift on the couch, not away. But closer. When you finally turned your head to look at him, he dropped his eyes to your phone, then back up to your face. You swallowed thickly, your grip on your phone tightening. His eyes flicked down again, not to your phone this time. To your mouth.

“Let me see.” He said, his voice was barely above a whisper, a low hum in the back of his throat. You shook your head as his eyes flicked back up to yours. His mouth opened, but he didn't speak, and was he?… he was. He was leaning forward. Your eyes rapidly moved around his face before you tentatively leaned forward too. You could feel his breath on your lips, his eyes locked on your mouth, his nose brushed against yours. His lips softly grazed yours-

“We're back!”

You jumped apart like you'd both been electrocuted, your heart raced in your chest, his own heaving with laboured breaths as his hands tightened on his knees, bunching the fabric of his sweatpants in his hands.

You stood from the couch, grabbing your things quickly. “I'm r- I want to go home.” you said as you passed your dad, bolting to the front door, and slamming it behind you as your head spun while trying to process what had almost happened.

Your dad looked at the door bewilderedly, and then back to Kurt and scoffed. “What'd you do to her, son?” He laughed softly.

Kurt bolted too, “N-nothing, I didn't do anything, why would I do anything? That's ridiculous.” He rambled all the way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Your dad looked at Angela and shrugged.

You refused to go with your dad the next week, you lied and told him you were feeling unwell. He sighed, but accepted it, and went without you anyway. You hadn't spoken to anyone about what had happened with Kurt, not even your best friend. You let it twist and churn in your stomach all week, guilt, shame. And regret. As much as you hated yourself for it, you wished your dad and Angela had stayed out longer. Because now you couldn't get that soft, barely there graze of his lips against yours out of your head.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced down.

You exhaled slowly, opening the message and reading it over again. Your eyes focused on each word as you pulled up the keyboard to respond. Your thumbs hovered uselessly before you locked your phone and threw it down onto the bed, burying your head between your knees. It would be easier to withdraw completely, to let him believe it was his fault, accept his apology and move on.

But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. And you weren't sure if it was because you didn't want to hurt his feelings, or because you weren't sorry about what happened. Or, almost happened.

He didn't text you again during the week. You hadn't looked at the tab that stayed open on your phone. Even if your fingers twitched towards it every night before you went to bed. You knew it was wrong, but there was something about its inappropriateness that had you pressing your thighs tighter together every time you thought about it.

By Friday, you lost the willpower when the tab refreshed, and you saw he had uploaded a new video. You shouldn't have clicked it, you knew that. But it was too late, you were already watching him sit back in his gaming chair, his big hand wrapped around his cock, increasing the pace as he whined.

Your thighs pressed together as the familiar throb between your legs worsened. You watched his head fall back, his mouth open around whimpers as the tip of his cock grew darker, something you'd come to know meant he was close. Your fingers were dancing across the waistband of your pyjamas when you froze. Because you definitely hadn't heard that right.

You watched his mouth as he whined it again, a noise that sounded suspiciously close to your name. Your breathing picked up, as he moaned it again. It was definitely your name. He was moaning your name as he came, his release spilling over his hand as he whimpered through his orgasm, his tummy flexing with each spurt from his cock.

The video ended when he grabbed the phone, his flushed cheeks filled the frame, his hazel eyes locked onto the camera for a split second before the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you in the black mirror that your phone had become. You blinked and slowly lowered the phone to the bed as you felt your heart thudding in your throat.

The next day, your phone rang. You saw Angela's name flash up on the screen, and you panicked, what if she knew? But you shook your head, there was nothing to know. Nothing had happened. You answered the call and brought it to your ear.

“Hi.” You answered, your fingers drumming against your chin anxiously.

“Hi honey, I'm sorry to ask but we're away this weekend and Kurt is working, would you be able to pop by and feed Luna and Dozier? And let them into the yard for a little while?” Her voice was faint through the phone, and you could hear the rumbling of the car she must be calling through.

“Kurt's working?” You asked, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Yeah, until one or two in the morning, would you mind hon?” She asked, the blinker clicking and you dad laughing at something in the background.

“No. That's fine.” You sighed as you agreed, you hadn't had any plans or anything, but you'd still been avoiding the Kunkle house like the plague, the thought of even seeing Kurt sending shivers down your spine that you couldn't determine were good or bad.

“Thanks hon, see you soon.” She said, hanging up before you could respond.

It was already growing dark when you pulled up to the house, finding the spare key under the mat, you let yourself in. Dozier jumped up, his big paws landing against your stomach, winding you as you pat him on the head. Luna barely lifted her head from the couch.

“Yeah, hi buddy.” You said, pushing him down gently and heading to dish out their food. Once they were noisy wolfing down their dinner, you scanned the house. You'd never been alone here before, and that alone sent a thrill down your spine.

Kurt's door was ajar.

It squeaked slightly as you pushed it open. You'd been in his room before, it was nothing special. A mattress on the floor, a rack of sneakers you never saw him wearing, dirty clothes on the floor, posters on the wall. His gaming set up was tucked into the corner of his room, the monitor lit up as you wiggled the mouse. But it was locked, and you grimaced as you made eye contact with the creepy little kurtsworld logo he used as his screensaver.

You didn't hear the door open. Or his footsteps as he approached his bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” His voice made you flinch, and you whirled around to look at him, your heart racing.

“Jesus Kurt- scared..” you swallowed, shaking your head. “Your mom asked me to feed the dogs.” You gestured to the kitchen. “Said… you were working.”

He nodded, slowly putting his keys down on the desk with a quiet clink. “Yeah, I just came back to feed them.. but-” he gestured at you and then dropped his hands back into the pockets of his jeans.

Awkward silence filled the space between you. Neither of you looked directly at the other, your fingers twisted in your palm.

“You're in my room.” He mumbled, his eyes focused somewhere between your middle and the floor.

“Yeah, I…” you trailed off as you realised you didn't have an explanation. Not one beyond just wanting to look around, just feeling an unexplainable pull towards the room, and him if you were being honest.

Kurt finally lifted his eyes to your face, and you felt it, the weight of his gaze, the way your skin prickled at the back of your neck. You met his eyes as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing nervously.

“Did-” he cleared his throat. “Did you see the video?”

Your eyes widened, and your breath stuck in your throat, making you cough slightly. “W-what video?” You asked once you'd recovered.

Kurt's eyes flicked to his computer monitor, then back to you. “You know what video.” He said, his cheeks flushing, his eyes dropped again, like he was already embarrassed to bring it up. It reminded you of how he'd looked in the video, head tilted back, chest rising and falling as he whimpered your name.

“Yeah.” Your voice cracked around the word, and his eyes flicked back up to yours. Even though the video was concrete proof that he'd been thinking the same thing about you, your chest still flashed with panic as you stepped closer to him.

He instinctively straightened, his fingers flexing at his sides as his breathing picked up, keeping his eyes on yours as you stopped in front of him. “What- um…” he trailed off as his eyes dropped to your mouth when your tongue wet your bottom lip.

“This is a bad idea.” You said, but your hand moved up, your palm flattened against his chest, feeling the wild thumping of his heart underneath. He inhaled sharply at the warmth of your hand through his t-shirt, his eyes dropping to your hand, and then slowly dragged back up to your face.

“W- you shouldn't…” he said, his voice was strained, his jaw stuttering as your hand slowly moved up towards his shoulder, he leaned down instantly.

“You want me to go?” You whispered as his face paused, inches from yours, his eyes wide as they flicked between yours. He shook his head gently, and you closed the distance.

He gasped as your lips touched his, his eyes widening with panic before closing as he hesitantly pushed his lips back against your own. Your hand moved up around the back of his neck as your lips slotted between his, sighing softly. His hands twitched again before he slowly brought one up. His palm was warm against your face as he cupped it, his fingers threading through your hair behind your ear.

It was as if something inside him clicked, or snapped, as he brought the other hand up to the other side of your head and kissed you back desperately. His nose pressed into your cheek as he tilted his head, stepping closer until his body was flush against yours. The heat of him seeped through your t-shirt, his hands holding your mouth against his as if he was terrified you wouldn't come back if he let you go.

Your hands moved down first, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his t-shirt, down his stomach and towards his jeans. He pulled back when he realised what you were doing, not far, just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown, his hair mussed from where your hands had slid through the strands, his chest heaving with laboured breaths.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice was broken, it cracked around the word, his eyes locked onto yours.

You nodded and he dove right back in with all hesitation gone. He tugged your t-shirt up over your head and threw it behind him, his hands splayed over your skin as he pulled you against him, walking you back to the mattress. You fell down, pulling him with you, he hovered over you on his knees as he pulled his own t-shirt off and then leaned back down.

His chest hair tickled your nipples as he settled between your thighs, his mouth back on yours as his hand moved to cup one of your breasts. He squeezed softly, kneading the flesh with his fingers as he moaned against your mouth. Your hands moved up over his shoulders, holding his body against yours as he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, desperate for the friction.

You felt the hard line of his cock press against you, even through his jeans and your shorts. You sighed as his lips moved down your neck, alternatively kissing and sucking your skin. His tongue darted out as he reached your nipple, his eyes flicking up to watch the way your eyes closed as you moaned quietly when he licked over it. He sucked your nipple into his mouth, keeping his eyes open, watching your every expression. He moved to your other breast, licking and sucking at your nipple until you arched beneath him.

His mouth pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your stomach as he made his way down, his fingers fumbling with the button on your shorts, his hands hadn't stopped shaking since he saw you in his room. You lifted your hips to help him pull the shorts down your legs. He inhaled shakily as your thighs fell apart and he saw your already damp underwear. He swallowed thickly, eyes focused as he leaned down, pressing kisses around the edge of the fabric.

“Kurt-” you sighed, your fingers threading into his hair, grasping tighter when he kissed over your now wet underwear before lifting a hand to pull your underwear off to the side before leaning in to devour you. It was clear he didn't have much, if any, experience as his tongue licked messily through your folds. But what he lacked in experience, he sure made up for in enthusiasm. Luckily, he seemed to respond to you maneuvering his head by his hair, pulling his head upwards until his tongue was on your clit.

“Fuck.. right there-” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your clit, his finger came up to tease at your entrance. However it was less like he was teasing, and more like he was asking for permission, even now. You lifted your head to look down between your thighs, his eyes met yours, wide, pupils blown out, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You moaned at just the sight, but then his finger finally moved inside you, and your head fell back, your fingers tightened in his hair again.

Kurt lapped at everything you gave him like a man starved. He moaned against your pussy, his finger working into you as he flicked his tongue over your clit. He loved the way your thighs kept tightening around his head, and your grip on his hair hardened, it was almost painful. But he liked it. The noises that were spilling from your lips spurred him on, working you open as he added another finger, feeling you clench around him as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

“You t- fuck- you taste good.” He moaned against you as you soaked his chin, his fingers kept their pace as you tugged on his hair, burying his face in your pussy as you rolled your hips, his tongue flattened over your clit as you grinded against it.

You pulled his hair to pull him back up to your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as you kissed him. He pulled his fingers out of you and clumsily pulled off his own jeans, groaning against your mouth as you wasted no time. Your hand dove into his boxers, wrapping around his thick cock, giving a few gentle strokes to have him whining into your mouth as he bucks up into your hand.

He pulls off his boxers and you let go to look at his cock, it's even bigger than it looked on screen, thick and veiny, the head flushed and swollen. You swallow thickly before lifting your eyes to his. There's a split second where you think he's going to back out, that he's going to tell you that he doesn't want to do this. But then he's leaning back over you, and his mouth is on yours again.

The head of his cock drags through your soaked folds as he positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly pushed forward. You gasped against his mouth as his cock stretched you, your nails pressing into his shoulders. His head dropped as he pushed fully inside, he didn't move at first, he took a shaky breath in before lifting his head back up to look down at you. Then, with a slow movement, he pulled his hips back, his eyes staying on your face to watch your lips part, and the sharp inhale of breath you took when he pushed forward again.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, and your back arched, pressing your chest against his as he set a slow and steady rhythm. He whimpered your name, just how he had in the video, his face pressed against the side of your neck. His tongue darted out to trace your collarbone, before his teeth grazed your skin, making you gasp.

The rolls of his hips picked up their pace, smacking against your thighs with every thrust. He moaned into your shoulder as your nails scraped down his back, only spurring him on as he thrust into you faster, his pace growing more desperate. His mouth moved up to yours again, as if he intended to kiss you but was interrupted by a moan as your pussy squeezed around his cock. His lips hovered just above yours, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck-” he whined, his hips faltering before picking back up, lowering himself onto his forearm. “Been- fuck- been thinking about this since I met you.” He whispered against your mouth, like the act of being inside you had his head spinning so out of control that he would tell you anything you wanted him to.

“Yeah?” You sighed, your hand sliding up into his hair, and he finally opened his eyes to look down at you, your hair fanned out across his pillow, your eyes heavy and looking up at his own. His cheeks flushed, his lips red and swollen from biting them.

“Mhm.” He whimpered, nodding like he was embarrassed, his hips stuttering again. The veins on his neck swelled, and you could tell he was straining, struggling to stay composed. It sent a thrill through your core, and made you want to break through the front he was clearly trying to put on.

“Roll over.” You said, his eyes widened, but he obliged, as if he was scared you'd stop if he didn't. He pulled out and lay down on his back, his chest heaving as you swung your leg over his hips, and sank back down onto his cock. His teeth but down on his bottom lip as you took him back in.

His hands moved up to your thighs as you balanced yours on his chest, and started rolling your hips against him.

“Oh f-fuck-” he stuttered, his eyes rolling back, his stomach tensed. You smiled as you looked down at him, and felt his fingers dig into your thighs. His mind had fogged as soon as you sank down onto him, warm, wet and tight around his cock as you rocked your hips over his.

“You like that?” You cooed, your hand sliding up to grab his chin, forcing him to look up at you. He nodded as he opened his eyes, glossed over and focused on you. He opened his mouth, pulling your thumb into his mouth, sucking on it as his tongue flattened against the pad of your thumb. Your breath rushed out of you through your parted lips, watching him suck on your thumb as you leaned forward.

You swapped out rolling your hips for bouncing them instead, feeling him squirm beneath you as his eyebrows furrowed, his blunt nails scratching at your thighs. You pulled your thumb from his mouth to push his hair back off his forehead, glistening with sweat as you leaned down further, your lips moving back to his. He whimpered against your mouth as you bounced your hips, the head of his cock burying deep within you with every movement.

“I c- I can't, it's too good.. please.” He whined, his hips twitching upwards to try to meet your thrusts.

“You can.” You hummed, pulling back to look down at his blissed out expression, his flushed cheeks. “You wanna make me feel good, don't you?” You tilted your head.

He nodded eagerly, “yeah, yeah I do- t- tell me what you want.. please-” he whimpered, watching as you sat back up, and moved his hand to where you were joined. He understood immediately and his fingers rubbed at your swollen clit. You moaned softly as you leaned backwards, resting your hands on his thighs as you rolled your hips. The new angle had his cock hitting your g-spot with every roll, his fingers circled your clit as his body vibrated with tension, desperate to make you feel good.

“Kurt… right there-” you moaned, your head tipping back. He watched with wide eyes, as if he was experiencing a miracle, your hips rolling, his cock disappearing inside you repeatedly, your tits bouncing slightly as you moved, the line of your throat, your hair falling down your back. He felt you clench around his cock, and his brain melted. His hands grabbed your hips, and he rutted his cock up into you, thrusting fast and sharp, your ass smacking his thighs.

“Kurt!” You cried out at the sudden movement, your nails digging into his thighs.

“I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so hard, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He whimpered, slamming his hips up against yours as his cock pulsed inside you, sending you over the edge with him, the room was loud with your combined cries as his body shuddered with his release. Your thighs shook, your stomach tensing as your pussy milked him dry, leaving both your chests heaving, and your skin sticky and glistening with sweat.

His grip on your hips loosened as you lifted your head, opening your eyes and locking them onto his as the dawning realisation of what you'd done began to settle between you. You swallowed thickly as you caught your breath, he stared up at you, eyes wide and his hands curled into fists like he was terrified to touch you again, as if he might startle you like a wild animal.

You pulled yourself off him and kneeled on the mattress, feeling more exposed now than when you were on top of him and moaning his name. You slowly reached for your shirt as he sat up hesitantly, pulling the blanket over his lap.

You dressed in silence. He didn't watch, he stared at his feet under the blanket, chewing on his thumbnail. Once you were dressed, you glanced at him, taking in his embarrassed posture, his anxious twitching.

“We don't have to talk about it.” You said quietly, and he nodded without looking at you. “Ever.” You added, grabbing your phone and shooting him one last look before you walked out without another word, the shame and guilt twisting in your stomach. Kurt sank further into his bed, staring up at the ceiling, the image of you rolling your hips on top of him burned into his eyes every time he closed them.

Two weeks later, your phone buzzed.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen, your heart racing in your ears.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who swapped out your vibrator for a hacked one he controls—so now your orgasms don’t belong to you, they belong to him.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who programmed your vibrator to sync with your webcam activity—so the moment he can enjoy with you.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who has an encrypted file labeled “every time she came” — full of timestamps from every night you touched yourself.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who tracks your cycle and only texts you during ovulation with messages like: “Would you let me breed you if I asked nicely? Or do I need to ruin you for anyone else first?."

hacker!stepbro heeseung who doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t need to. Not when you keep your curtains cracked, and your thighs parted, and your breathing shallow at 1:22 a.m.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who lets you date other guys—but only so he can hack them, stalk them, and wait until they slip up. Then he sends you the evidence like a love letter. “See? I protect what’s mine.”

hacker!stepbro heeseung who watches you masturbate and types “slower” into your open Notes app. And almost cum when you actually listen.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who learned the way your breathing changes before you come and trained his own body to sync to it—until you finish together, apart, every single time.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who knows you touched yourself wearing his hoodie and rewatches the footage every night—hand wrapped tight on his dick, whispering “you filthy little sister.”

hacker!stepbro heeseung who buys you lingerie and mails it anonymously to the house—no card, just your size, your taste… and the scent of his cologne already soaked in.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who fucks girls mean when he’s mad at you—gripping too tight, biting too hard, fucking too deep.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who lets a girl ride him—face blank, screen lit—while your live shower feed plays like his personal porno.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who you tried to escape—so he pinned you to the bed, forcing you to watch your crush hacked laptop when he's gaming, as he fucked you hard, growling, "Let him hear how good you sound when you’re mine."

hacker!stepbro heeseung who you called a creep—yet now you sit with legs parted in front of your screen, waiting, aching, praying the webcam light will flicker.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who you told to stop—yet you started dressing for him. Walking slower in front of his door. Leaving your webcam uncovered. Secretly hoping he couldn’t stop.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who corrupted you so gently, so thoroughly, that now when he types "Be good. Leave the door unlocked tonight," you obey. Without question. Without panties.

hacker!stepbro heeseung who you tried to forget—but he replaced your lock screen with a photo of you on your knees, mouth open, eyes glazed—and captioned it: "My good little stepwhore."

hacker!stepbro heeseung who forced you to admit it—fingers buried inside you, voice low and dangerous: "Say it. Say you want to be my dirty little stepsister. Say you like it when I ruin you."

hacker!stepbro heeseung who finally snapped—after weeks of playing nice—dragged you to his room, stripped you down in front of your own hacked camera, and fucked you, whispering, "You belong to me. I’ve owned you since the first time you came here."

Will be out on sunday 15.06 I just know you’re gonna love it... almost as much as you’ll be slightly terrified by it. Because, well, the topic is a teensy bit... let’s say... intrusive.

Reblog, comment, scream into the void—give this post the attention it craves! Be bold. Be nosy. I dare you. 😘

He is despondent during dinner. Head down, elbows tucked into his sides, and only answers questions when asked.

William attributes the silence to his son’s disdain for him. Your mother thinks he’s simply overworked from his job, and keeps fussing over him the way mothers do. Her actions inescapable and always laced with guilt, like refusing her attention is an unforgivable mistake.

It’s probably both of those things. At least, you hope it is.

You aren’t sure which is more delusional: thinking he’s forgotten about what happened between the two of you, or thinking he is completely, mind numbingly affected by it.

You want to ask. You don't want anything to do with him. You want to mount him the same way you did the last time he was here, but this time without the clothes to separate. You mostly stay away from him, too. He seems miserable enough as it is.

After dinner, your mom tells you to talk to him and bond a little, you guys are around the same age. You don't have the heart to tell her you've already bonded, just not in the way she probably wants.

But you nod, ever the dutiful daughter, promising to speak with him later that day.

What you weren’t expecting is the sounds coming from the guest bedroom as you approach. Soft, muffled. You press your ear to the door, brows knit in worry. He sounds like he’s in pain.

Your hand lifts, poised to knock, as the sounds continue. You’re about to yell for William, who’s downstairs with your mother, already half into a bottle of red, when you hear a soft whimper.

A word. Syllables tripping over each other, wrapped in desperation and desire.

It takes a moment, but you realize he’s saying your name.

No, not saying. Moaning.

Your hand tries the doorknob. The sounds from the room halt, comically quick, followed by shuffling. You wiggle the handle again, and then say, “I know what you’re doing.”

Minutes pass. Or it doesn’t. You can’t tell. Spencer is quiet for a long while, no denial, no fluster, just silence that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“Open the door.” you call out, gentle as a morning mist, like you’re trying to keep an animal from getting spooked. “Spencer, it’s fine.”

It takes three more breaths before you hear movement. The door opens to his face, all wobbling lips, eyes glassy with tears. Of what? Guilt? Pleasure? Both? The rest of him is rumpled, sweater askew, a very clear bulge straining against his jeans. His left hand is clamped around something tightly, knuckles white, red lace peeking through the slits of his fingers.

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Now you’re sorry?”

“I am. I was sorry then, too.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

You huff, eyes narrowing. “Then why are you still jerking off to me like this?”

“Keep your voice d–”

“I don’t think you get to tell me that when you’re right there, holding one of my goddamned panties like a pervert.”

He shrinks like a tower collapsing in on itself. Panicked brown eyes flicker past you, and look down the hallway, like he’s waiting for one of your parents to come walking by.

"They won't be coming up, Saturday nights, they like to indulge and pass out on the couch." You mumble, frowning.

"Why are you even up here?" he tries to deflect, but you're having none of it. Not now, when he's clearly been doing something deeply perverse. Something you had been thinking of, during sleepless nights alone.

"I was headed to the bathroom when I heard you." you lie, "Didn't even have the decency to keep it down, huh?" You watch, triumphant, as his cheeks turn bright red.

"I'm so—"

"God, stop apologizing." you push past him and let yourself into his room. The door closes with a click and you glare up at him, challenging and, beneath that, wanting. "I want to watch."

"What?"

"I want to watch. I think it's fair—you steal my underwear, I watch what you do with it."

He stares at you, dumbfounded to silence, looking like he's waiting for the ball to drop. But you're completely serious. It's not like you haven't crossed a line before. Who cares what happens now, right? You press your back to the door, locking it without looking.

He gulps, realizing there's no way out of this, and stumbles back to his bed. Slumps like he's been defeated.. Spencer glances at you questioningly, like he's waiting for a change. You only raise your brows at him, as if to say what are you waiting for?

He fumbles with his zipper again, avoiding your eyes as he pushes those pants low enough to free his length.

You haven’t actually seen him before. Wasn’t expecting a shaft as long as that, flushed red and slim like the rest of him. You wonder how he’d feel inside you, and immediately, guilt churns fresh in your chest. You swallow it down, and keep your eyes on him.

“You can start.” you murmur. A plea. An order.

Spencer moves like he’s made to obey. Maybe he is. Soft croaks spill from his lips, embarrassed, turned on, desperate to show off. He wraps a large hand around himself, white knuckled and pathetic, face tilted down like he’s trying to hide from you.

Up, down, slow, jerky strokes, his hand too large to properly tighten around the slenderness of his cock. Strands of hair fall over his forehead as his rhythm becomes steadier. With shaking hands, he brings your underwear to his nose and sniffs deeply.

“Spencer,” you say, transfixed. “Look at me.”

He whines.

“Look at me, please.”

His falters for a moment, large hand pausing midstroke, as if he’s calculating what the price you’d make him pay if he remains obstinately looking down.

There’s none, really, but you thread your voice with authority like you’d make him regret disobeying. “Look at me.”

Molten gold. His eyes look like molten gold, black pupils dilated and melting into clear brown irises. He lets out a choked moan, strokes growing faster, sloppier. Even from the distance, you can see the tip glistening with precum, and it’s that sight that makes your body move, quick strides to cross the distance between you.

He gasps, mouth going slack when you sink to your knees in front of him.

“What–what’re you–”

“Let me help.” you whisper, wrapping your palm around the base and easing his hand off. You squeeze as you stroke up, twist your wrist slightly, and something like a choked cough falls past his lips.

“God,” he doesn’t bother with pretense anymore. Doesn’t bother with the song and dance of coyness and deflection. Instead, Spencer’s hips buck up into your hand, eager for more, finally yielding to his baser desires. Lust winning over decency. He keeps your panties to his nose and moans. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” your voice lowers, soaking in patronizing concern. “How long has it been since someone took care of you, huh?”

“T-too long.”

“Poor baby. Nobody since me? Is that why you’re so wound up?”

He blinks, then looks away like he’s guilty, whining, brows knit in distress. His hands fall beside him, limp. An ugly feeling curls in your chest, tight and burning with something you refuse to name right now. With your free hand, you cup his jaw and force him to meet your gaze again.

There, shining in those brown eyes, clear as day. Contrition. Shame.

“There was someone.” You try to make it sound less like an accusation, but it still lands that way.

He jerks, face twisting in pain. Your hand tightens around his cock, nails digging lightly into the sensitive skin.

“What’s her name?”

"Ow."

"What's her name?"

“Lila.” he folds like dirty linen and spits the name out as if it poisons, lower lip quivering. “It was Lila, please, it didn’t mean anything–”

“And this does?”

His eyes close and his body tips over, bending forward until you’re afraid he’ll collapse. But he only moves to press into you, forehead to forehead, nose to nose. He’s warm. Burning with guilt and desire and desperation, and you thrive off of all of it.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, god, after everything. I don’t know what this is. It’s all so scary. The job, all the fieldwork, it wasn't what I thought—” His face shifts, lips brushing against yours clumsily, like he’s trying it out for the first time. “She was so pretty and she kissed me first and I–”

You cut him off with a kiss, soothing and slow. He returns it hungrily, tongue pushing past your lips and licking into you like he wants to fill your mouth. Your hand leaves his length, both palms pressing into his thighs for balance as he kisses you with everything he’s got.

“And you what,” you mumble between kisses, lips muffled and slippery with saliva, “You liked it? Liked making out with her?”

You’re not sure why you’re doing this. It seems like torture, to even ask. Why you so desperately want the answer to be no.

“I did,” he admits, pulling away breathlessly. That burning in your chest grows white hot, threatening to erupt out of you like lava, “I did. But only because…”

“Because?” it comes clipped and impatient, and Spencer flinches like he’s been struck.

“It reminded me of you.”

You pull away from him in surprise. You hadn't even realized you were bracing for rejection, until his confession eases the weight off your shoulders. You're still for several beats, staring into him, waiting—praying—for an ounce of guilt to flood through your body. A hint of disgust at his words. Anything to pull you away from him.

The relief simply stays. Settles like a boat being anchored, and you know you're both ruined.

You kiss him again, because it feels good. Because he tastes like mint and sin. Because he kisses back just as fervently, like he misses your mouth, like he wants to remember what it's like forever so he'll never have to settle for the cheap approximation of it from other women.

"Tell me what else she did." you mumble, trailing kisses down his jaw. You nip at the skin right at the juncture of his jaw and neck, just to hear him whine. "Did she touch you like this too?"

Your hand returns to where it had been previously wrapped around him, making quick, insistent pumps, so good he can't answer for a good minute. Just soft rattles of breath and hips trying to buck up into your touch.

"Spencer?"

"No," he hisses finally, "No, it was just—ah—just kisses."

"Good." you say, feeling slightly better from his admission. You kiss him again, slow and sweet this time, taking the lead and forcing him to follow, your tongue moving in tandem with your hand. When you part, he follows, glassy eyed and slick-lipped, moaning when you push him away.

"What—"

"Shh. Keep your voice down." you whisper, adjusting your stance before him, lips licking teasingly over his bony thighs, before pressing a sloppy kiss to the tip of his cock.

He bucks. Cries out.

"Fuck's sake, Spencer, quiet down!" you repeat.

He nods, teeth clamping on his lower lip. You resume your movements, alternating between licks and gentle, open mouthed kisses, all lavished at his oversensitive tip, while your hand takes care of the rest of him. Slow, measured glides that have him twisting on his bed, thighs quivering like he's fighting against every instinct to close his legs around your head and curl up.

"So, nobody else besides this Lila?" you ask between every kiss, looking up at him through your lashes, deceptively, devastatingly innocent.

"N-no. I didn't kiss anyone else." he mumbles, "God, can I touch you?"

You nod, satisfied, humming when his fingers card through your hair, long digits tangling with the strands. He contents himself with just holding you there, occasionally brushing loose tendrils back to keep you free from distractions.

You reward him by taking him into your mouth, lips stretching around the bulbous tip, jaw relaxed as you slide him deeper, slowly guiding him with your hand.

Spencer lets out a sound that would sound pained if you didn't know what was happening. Your head bobs gently, retreating to the tip and sucking hard. He brings his free fist to his mouth and bites until you're sure he'll draw blood.

You hum around the weight of him, pushing back to take more of him into your mouth. Your hand takes care of what you can't fit, squeezing up gently while you suck. He's throbbing atop your tongue, and with once twist of your wrist, something warm and salty explodes and coats your senses.

He curses, hands gripping your hair in surprise, before immediately loosening.

"Shit! Oh no, oh no, I—ah!" he tries to push you away, apologetic and sweet as sin, but you stay put stubbornly, swallowing around every pulse, letting him finish inside your mouth. You stay on your knees, even as he sobs tearlessly, stay until he softens. Only then do you pull off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"I'm so—"

"Told you to stop apologizing." you mumble, settling now at his feet.

He frowns, easing from the bed to join you on the floor. "I know. I was—I came too soon."

"Seems like a recurring thing." you tease, smiling when it earns you a chuckle. A pause settles, heavy and loaded. "What did you mean, when you said it wasn't like you thought?"

He's quiet. Traces the carpet with a spindly finger as he thinks. "It just isn't. I don't know. It's all I've ever studied for, but nothing really prepares you for… for all of it. The stench of the bodies. The tiring interrogations. Taking a life."

"You've…" your voice trails off, suddenly understanding. Assuming his moodiness was all due to you had been a little presumptuous, if he's grappling with something as serious as this. "I'm sorry. I was making fun of you for being wound up."

"You didn't know." he smiles, even though it doesn't reach his eyes. "So there's no need to apologize."

"That's my line." you say weakly.

He laughs, brighter this time. The silence that hovers after is gentle, filled with awkwardness and hope. No guilt. No more. Not after this. Not when you both know there'll be more to come.

When your dad married a new woman, you didn’t quite know what to think. You were surprised that he had moved on so quickly, but more surprised that someone would ever marry him. You had already questioned your mother’s sanity over it, this was just absurd.

Your father wasn’t abusive, or violent, or even manipulative. He was simply just…a total loser. Not even the good kind, the nerdy and quirky kind. He was a complete and utter loser. He never kept a job, he never went out on dates, he only ever did the bare minimum, just enough to keep a woman.

You were adamant on breaking the two up, that was…until the woman introduced you to her son. Your new step brother. Your step brother who was so hot you wanted to scream and cry and throw up. You were mentally gnawing at the bars of your cage, an animal begging to be let out so you could ravage him and tear his clothes off.

You shockingly kept your hands to yourself, kept your thoughts to yourself. You figured it wouldn’t be too hard…until you had to move in with him. Your mother got a new boyfriend out of pure pettiness and jealousy, then insisted you live with your father so they could be alone together. The real reason was because you reminded her too much of your father, the same eyes and nose, the same fierce attitude. She couldn’t be around you anymore.

That’s how you ended up here standing outside of Dustin’s bedroom…more or less. There were a couple things that led you to this exact moment.

Dustin and you had grown close, like best friends. You read the same books together in the living room, you watched the same shows, you played the same games, you even joined him for a few D&D sessions. You loved each other’s company, you reveled in it, basked in it.

You got so close that Dustin started losing some self control. He told himself he wouldn’t lay a single finger on you, not for any reason but comfort or general guidance. You were too pure, too sweet, untouched…untainted. This fact kept him away for so long, until it started feeling more enticing. It became a way to get closer instead of stay away.

You had confided in him one night. Told him you were a virgin…but not just a virgin, a giant virgin. You hadn’t had many partners, the ones you had never got very close. There was only one who kissed you and gave you a few hickies…but that was it. You’d never been touched below your neck, not in that way anyway.

This fact should have solidified Dustin’s distance with you, but instead it managed to break it. He couldn’t tear himself away from you, it’s like he was glued to your side. He started noticing things he wouldn’t let himself before. Your thick thighs that double in size whenever you sit down or cross them, your hair that frames your face perfectly…deliciously. Your eyes that somehow always lock on his, always wander over his frame. Your underwear that you left sitting on the floor by your hamper…

Your underwear. Underwear that you had just worn, the pretty pink pair he saw underneath your skirt yesterday. The pair that made him fuck his fist for half the night. It was just sitting there, calling his name.

You had left to grab a drink, said you wanted some ‘bubbles in your stomach.’ You loved drinking the sodas his mom bought. This left him all alone in your room, staring at that godforsaken pair of pale pink panties.

Dustin heard your footsteps leaving the kitchen and he bolted. He acted before he could even think, darting across the room and snatching up the pair of underwear. He shoved it in the pocket of his jeans and sat back on the edge of your bed. You had no idea he had taken them…until he left to get ready for bed.

You knew you had thrown them on the floor in a hurry, missing the hamper and insisting you’d ’toss them in later.’ Now was later, so as you tidied your room you reached for the underwear only to come up empty handed. Your brows furrowed as you peered around the floor then inside your basket. No sign of them anywhere. You paused for a moment as a thought entered your mind.

‘Could Dusty have taken them?’

You shove the thought away before it can even fully form, too afraid of hoping. You convince yourself you just threw them in and they got buried. You didn’t dig through the laundry to make sure.

Later that night, as you’re struggling to fall asleep, you hear a noise. It sounded wounded, in pain. Like an animal who’d just escaped the jaws of a predator. You sat up in bed, eyes widening when you hear it again. You stand up and walk over to the window, pulling the curtain back to glance outside. You search for any sign of an animal, one that sounds so close.

Another sound comes but it isn’t pained anymore. This one sounds like the predator…a low and dangerous sound. A sound that makes your skin prickle, makes the hairs on your arm stand up. It’s a sound that makes your thighs clench involuntarily. You know it isn’t from an animal now.

You slowly walk over to the wall you share with Dustin. You press your ear against it, hoping to hear the sound again. Just as you suspected, Dustin lets out a grunted moan. You can hear his bed frame creak as he moves. Your feet move before you can question it.

And that’s how you really ended up here. Outside of Dustin’s bedroom door. It’s open just a crack, you can see a sliver of warm light pouring out. You can hear him much better from out here, can hear the sound of his hand hitting his pelvis on the downstrokes.

You swallow the lump in your throat. You thank any gods listening that your dad and his mom are such sound sleepers. They wouldn’t wake up for anything, which is why you assume he felt comfortable enough to leave his door open just a smidge. Another thought flutters into your brain, its wings flapping obnoxiously.

‘Did he leave the door open hoping I’d hear him? Does he want me to find him like this?’

You don’t stop the thought this time, you don’t shove it away. You pull it closer and wrap your arms around it tightly, keeping it against your chest. You peer through the crack of his door, legs shaking as you try to avoid any creaky floorboards.

You see him finally, lying on his bed. All his clothes are discarded, lying on the floor in a heap. The lamp on his bedside table is on, covering him in a shield of golden light. His eyes are squeezed shut, mouth hung open as he throws his head back. He looks like he’s glowing, like he’s a god…a deity sent up from the Underworld specifically to torture you. You finally move your gaze down, finding his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. Your underwear stands as a barrier between the two. The pale pink rests between his cock and his palm as he strokes himself.

You rest a hand over your mouth, holding back the depraved sound you almost make. Dustin’s eyes flutter open as he glances down, watching his hand move up and down. He moves his other hand down to toy with the lace of your panties. He groans at this alone.

“Shit.” He breaths. He sounds so whiny, so desperate for you. You wonder if he’d want you to take control…or if he’d control you without a second thought, like that’s what he’s born to do. “So fucking good.” Dustin mumbles.

Your breath quickens at his sweet moans, your thighs clenching as your legs wobble.

“Want you so bad…I tried.” He gasps, head thrown back against his pillow. “Tried not to, tried t-to stay away. Fuck!” His voice raises and his hips buck up into his hand, you can tell he’s getting close. “I can’t…I need you, need you y/n.” He babbles.

You push forward without thinking, nudging the door while simultaneously stepping on a creaky board. The squeak rings out like a fire alarm, loud and sudden. Your head jerks in Dustin’s direction, your feet standing right in his doorway. The door had swung open slowly after you bumped it.

His eyes locked on yours. You expected him to startle, to jump up and cover himself, to apologize…something like that. Instead, as if he can read every thought you have from your face alone, he sits up and motions for you to come closer. You step forward tentatively, ignoring the creaking protests of the wood floor.

“I tried too.” You whisper into the dimly lit room. You step just at the edge of his bed. His hands reach forward gently, resting on your hips. He gives you the chance to pull away. “Tried to stay away. I told myself it was wrong.” Dustin’s grip falters at that. “You’re my step brother…but that only made me want you more.”

Dustin digs his fingers into the skin of your hips, helping you on the bed as you swing your leg over his. He helps you straddle him, resting just above his still hard cock.

“It just…makes the whole thing hotter, harder to resist. I thought you were so pretty from the moment I met you. You being my step brother just made you even more irresistible.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I told myself to stay away, that you were too good. Too good for me to ruin with my perverted thoughts. Then you…you told me you were a virgin and I just snapped. I couldn’t stay away, I knew I had to have you. Somehow, I knew I had to get you here, right in my lap and in my hands.” He squeezes your hips to solidify his words.

“Will you…Will you make me feel good, Dusty?” You ask shyly, avoiding his dark gaze.

“Is that what you want?”

“More than anything. I think of you, of your hands when I touch myself. I can’t get off without thinking of you, not anymore.” Dustin huffs out a low growl at your words.

“You have no idea how fucking crazy you make me.” He whispers, helping you to lay on your back. He hovers over you, arms caging you in.

“I could say the same thing.” You reply, already out of breath.

“Let me eat you out…please.” Dustin mumbles, pressing gentle kisses over your neck.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s all I’ve thought about since I stole those fucking panties off your floor. I want to taste you.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, waiting for your approval.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.” You correct yourself, giving him the clear consent he needs. He smirks and pecks your lips.

“Good girl.” You clench around nothing at his praise. Dustin pulls your shorts and underwear down at once, throwing them on top of his own pile of clothes. He pulls your thighs apart, reassuring you when he senses your hesitation. The second his eyes land on your pussy, he’s gone. His pupils blow wide, swallowing the bright blue of his eyes. His breath hitches and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs.

“Fuck.” He chokes out, leaning forward. He doesn’t waste any time, not when he finally has you here. All there’s been is time and waiting, he doesn’t want any more of it. He pulls your legs up and rests them on his shoulders, praising you when you follow his lead. You whimper at his words and Dustin melts.

He buries his face in your cunt, breathing you in like you’re a line of fucking cocaine. His tongue finally pokes out to flick over your clit. You yelp in surprise, hips bucking up into his face. He groans against you, his own hips grinding down against his mattress. Dustin licks a long stripe up your cunt, gathering your arousal on his tongue. He lets it coat his tongue and mouth, drowns in the taste of you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweet girl.” He mumbles against you, never pulling away from your intoxicating scent. Dustin stops teasing you and wraps his lips around your clit suddenly. You cry out at the sudden pleasure, head thrown back and hitting the pillow. Dustin smirks against you, swirling circles over your bud with the tip of his tongue.

“D-Dusty!” You squeal, hands burying into his hair and pulling at his curls. He moans at the pleasurable pain, his hips grinding harder against the bed. “I-I’m already…” You let out a shaky sigh. “C-close, please.” You look down at him, coming undone at the sight alone. Your thighs clench around his head, trapping him against your pussy. His groan vibrates against your skin. He lets out a particularly loud moan before you finally pull your thighs apart.

Dustin pulls away from you with one final kiss to your puffy clit. He licks his lips and crawls up your body, his face inches from yours. You connect your lips before you second guess yourself, tasting your climax on his tongue. He licks into your mouth with a pathetic little whine. You pull away to meet his eyes.

“Do you want me to help you now?” You ask, biting your lower lip.

“No…uh-“ He breathes out a nervous laugh. “I already…” Your eyes widen in realization. You quickly glance down and see the small stain on his sheets.

“You…just from eating me out?” Your eyes are wide and your lips are turned up into a giddy smile.

“Don’t make fun of me.” Dustin groans, rolling over to lay beside you.

“I’m not! I think…it’s really hot.” Dustin quickly looks over at you, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” You laugh, resting your head on his chest. “I think anything and everything you do is hot.” You admit quietly.

“I think the same.” You nod as your eyes slowly flutter closed.

“I love you.” You whisper, but this time it holds so much more meaning.