im mostly a fujoshi, this account is nsfw n im an adult with fucked up kinks and paraphilias. that being said DNI if ur a minor or condone real life harm, im into cnc and a bunch of other stuff but thats not so much a choice and rather a horrible result of trauma.
TW: sibcest, fictional scenario, cunnilingus, older brother x little sister, hurt and comfort, abuse.
(This started out as a quick imagine then it became very long and detailed, hope you’ll like!)
Big brother who protects you from your dad who hits and verbally abuses you. One night dad is particularly cruel and begins slapping you just for your big brother to come in and shield you from the next hit. Unfortunately dad starts going in on your brother but as always your big brother is very tough, and takes a few of them then grabs your hand and runs with you to his room where he locks the door. Dad is banging on the door and your big brother grabs his phone and screams through the door to leave you the fuck alone or he’s gonna call the cops again. Dad punches the door and rattles the hinges so bad that you squeal. Your big brother has a nose bleed which neither of you noticed till now but he just grabs you by your shoulders and sits you down.
“Is daddy going away again?” You ask through tears. He swipes your tears away while his jaw works through the tension, not giving you an answer. You’re old enough to know that this means he probably will. But you don’t want to be separated from your big brother, that’s the only thing you care about, you don’t care if dad is taken away you just don’t want to have to be split up. Your big brother sits down beside you and stares blankly ahead, you ask him if he’s okay and cautiously swipe a finger through the blood. He flinches then blinks at you, his eyes searching yours before he asks if you love him.
You’re confused now, you nod quickly, finger still glistening with his blood. His Adam Apple bobs with a swallow and then he’s on you, suddenly bracketing your hips with his knees while his lips move against yours. He’s done this before but he’s always pulled away quickly. Tonight he’s not pulling away, his bloody lips taste strange and make you feel fuzzy. You try and pull away to breathe but he grows more insistent, that strange hardness pressing against your little belly as he gnashes his lips into yours. You’re both pressed flat against the mattress as his sweat soaked clothes press into yours, the smell a dizzying mix of his deodorant that’s barely covering up the musk of his sweat and the blood that’s now flowing freely down both of your faces.
“I—i love you,” he stammers when he pulls back just far enough to look at you, his eyes teary. You don’t like seeing him sad, you rarely see him cry, and it makes you want to cry. You pepper small kisses up and down his jaw and neck, telling him you love him in small little whispers. His eyes squeeze shut and he nods, his hardness throbbing in time with his hot shuddering breaths scattering across your face. Then, he smiles through gritted teeth groaning “I love you more.”
His hands slide down your waist and he watches your lips part in a tiny gasp, the long fingers warm as they slide up the fabric of your shirt, enveloping your flat chest entirely. The blood on his face has dried now and you’re beginning to feel funny again. He’s looking at you in a way you’ve seen before, usually when he sleeps with you and he’s touching that thing between his legs, his voice breaking when he tells you to just go back to sleep. This time you’re both fully awake, and his fingers test and pinch your tiny nipples. You squeak, he puts one hand over your lips, brows furrowing, “Shh. Don’t make a sound. We can’t let anyone hear us okay?” His voice dips on the last word as his hands move to peel your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.
You’re cold so you try and cross your arms, he insistently pins them up above your head, firmly but not painfully. His eyes track down your bare chest then down to your belly button where he dips his head and swipes his tongue across it. Your ribs flare and your hips jut, to which his response is to warningly squeeze your wrists as they’re pinned above your head, a confused trembling whine coming out of you as he swirls his tongue inside it. The deeper it prods the more you whine and bite your tongue, you’ve learned very early on to bite your tongue when something makes you uncomfortable. You want to cry, you want to let out sounds you’re not even familiar with, you want to let something out anything out.
His tongue slides down to the waistband of your shorts, then one hand frees to slide them down with jerky movement, the fabric catching on your hips as you sway in confusion. He glares up at you, his hair a mess now, stammering again with a rasp to his voice, “please—please just let me—do this,” both of his hands now jerking them past your knees then over your ankles quick like he’s removing one of your bandaids for you when you were too scared to do it yourself. It’s in this moment you’re made painfully aware of everything sensory, your own sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, the blood on your face and belly drying and making your skin feel weird.
He’s breathing heavy now, up on his haunches while you shiver beneath him, so cold, shy because you know it’s wrong to be exposed like this. But he’s family isn’t he? When mom or dad undress you it’s not wrong, so surely it can’t be wrong when your big brother who you love more than anyone else does it… his lower lip trembles as he palms himself through his black sweatpants, taking in the look of your tiny hips and thighs covered only by those strawberry print panties he’s only caught glimpses of till now. You squeeze them together on instinct and his hands land on the inner thighs peeling them apart. Your legs are shaking by the time he’s got them stretched apart and raised in the air in a way you’re not used to.
“Are you wet?” He whispers, he can’t believe it himself. He swipes a finger down your panty lining gathering moisture through the fabric. It makes you hiccup on a breath you were holding in, thighs trying to snap shut again. “No no no no,” his eyes seem to smile though his lips are pursed, the index finger rubbing more insistently now in a line then up again where it circles over the bud of your clit. “You’re wet for me.” He’s mumbling, eyes flickering back and forth between your soaked panties that he’s rubbing and your exasperated expression.
“Wait—“ your words are cut off when the feeling of him rubbing you is cut off by the last layer of fabric between you and him is removed, faster, stinging when it catches on your ankle and he carelessly tugs instead of slowing and tosses it again. “What are you—“ his hands anticipate those little thighs trying to squeeze shut again so he’s already prying them apart, the cool air now frozen cold against the wetness on your private part.
You’ve got goosebumps, then you’re letting out a cry of confusion and sudden shock when his warm finger slides up the puffiness of your lips down there. He doesn’t even seem to care about your noise now, his eyes are wide and he’s shaking. With a tiny gasp of his own, he holds the finger up to the light and gazes upon the slickness with a sort of reverence. Then he brings it to his lips and sucks. The way his eyes shut and the way he groans makes your belly feel tight, a weird tickling sensation growing between your legs.
He presses the finger back down to your clit, circling, dragging experimentally up and down your lips before settling on the clit with a finality. You’re shivering, you’re so cold, so confused. You wish he would just— “I love you.” He’s leaning down again, head dipping like before but this time his face disappears between your thighs and suddenly you feel warmth. Warm breath. Warm whispers against your pelvic bone—“more than anything.”—then something so hot it scorches you.
“Oh no!” Your thighs trap his head, back arching off the mattress as your hips uselessly thrust back and then forward, making the heat worse, making the sensation of his tongue feel more intense. His hands come up to squeeze your thighs and ass, shifting you so you’re almost lifting up into his mouth as his tongue laps at your clit. “Fuck! Stop-“ you didn’t mean to curse, you’re not even sure why you’re asking him to stop.
“Shut up,” he groans into your sensitive flesh, the vibrations making your vision blur. The sounds make you feel weirder than the actual act, the sound of wet flesh, slurping, both of you breathing fast. “My little sister tastes so good.” Are his final words, lips pressing the words against your pussy before he returns with more vigor. You’re crying out weakly, hips continuing to buck helplessly like you’ve been caught in a trap. He uses the motion of your hips bucking as leverage, each buck back encouraging him to follow your movements, making the moment you buck back into his mouth that much more severe.
It feels good, you don’t know why but it feels so good. It also makes you mad somehow, sad, you want more and you’re not getting enough of it. You’re starting to grind into it rather than jut without purpose, your cries turning into shrill moans. He blindly reaches for the pillow near your head then presses it over your face. You know that this means he wants you to be quieter and let it muffle you. Your hands fly up to either side of the pillow, tightly pressing it over your face as you rock into him. You and him have screamed into pillows many times, he taught you to do that many years ago when either of you were upset but couldn’t risk being heard and punished for it.
And that’s what you’re doing now, your spit is soaking through the pillow as you let free, letting loose into the pillow as he lets loose into your pussy, turned on beyond belief that his little sister is so hungry for him. His groans turn into whiny moans muffled by your skin as he doubles down and presses you hard into the mattress, both of you dipping into it as he eats you out in earnest. His tongue presses at and just barely catches on your untouched entrance a few times, but he’s primarily focused on your clit and making you cum.
That’s exactly what happens. It’s wrong and then it’s right, you’re almost scared you’re going to pee. But no matter what how much you squirm now or try and escape, he holds you down through it. The pleasure travels through that tiny bud between your legs up into your belly and into your fluttering heart. Every muscle tenses, your arms are crossed over the pillow as you gasp and let out hiccuping cries of pleasure. More importantly your inner thighs are tightened around his head like a vice, and he’s suffocating.
His tongue continues to lick at you through the aftershocks, then his head comes free with purpose, his breaths hot and heavy. You weakly peel the pillow away from your face, legs shaking. He looks down at your flushed face, you look up at his sweat drenched face, his entire lower face glistening with your juices. You just stare, still catching your breath. His hand finally frees his cock, which springs up immediately as his boxers dip just beneath his thighs. You wondered when you’d see it again, and notice a tiny bead of white running down the tip.
He’s stroking himself harder and faster than you ever caught sight of before, his brows furrowed while he bites his lip, his veins pulsing in his forearms as he looks down between your legs. You think to spread yourself again, your thighs parting as you watch how he reacts. He groans deep in his chest, the lids of his eyes dipping then widening as his hips rock into his own hands.
“I love you.” You say with a hoarse little breath. He whines then moans deeply, pumping his cock two more times before breaking. Spurts of white stuff come flying from his cock to your belly and down between your still red and shiny pussy. When the last of it sprays against you, he pulls his boxers up and collapses beside you, eyes glazed over as he catches his breath.
You dip your finger into some of his semen, tasting it for the first time. “Salty.” You state. His head jerks to the side to look, realizing what you’re doing. His expression does multiple things, turns confused, horny, sad, horny again, then finally completely indecipherable. He cleans you up with one of his shirts, his room a mess as always, making it easy to find any old pair of clothes nearby. Then he finds your panties, puts them back on you, then your shorts.
“Are we going to have to be away from each other again?” You ask, hand reaching for his wrist as his hand lies on the mattress beside your waist. His eyes slowly lift over you, he just looks so sad. You sit up weakly, thighs still somewhat shaky, wanting your older brother to look at you. His eyes stop at your lips. You press an unsure kiss to his, trying your best to mimic what he does. He shudders then pulls you in so you’re both embracing each other. He cries again. You say sorry because you think this is your fault.
“Please don’t say sorry,” his voice breaks, sniffling as his head nestles into the small of your neck.
“I love you,” you sniffle back.
“I love you too, I’ll never—“ he lets out another sob into your hot neck, “—hurt you.”
“I know.” You rub your hands over his back. You believed him.
