— HOW TO COMMIT
pairing: oliver aiku x f!reader
tags: pseudocest, pwp, fingering, friends to... lovers that engage in big bro/lil sis rp?, oliver lowkey loves bullying/embarrassing you, reader is extremely tsun
wc: 1.8k
summary: the first step of commitment is to be honest with yourself and your partner. the second step, is to fail that completely. or you're unsure about committing to oliver. oliver commits too hard to a bit.
a/n: ty @nyxypoo for beta reading for me!! <3 idk oliver just has a raging nii-chan/making reader squirm in embarassment fetish in this. enjoy!!
read on ao3
"Let me take you out on a date."
Oliver's words catch you off guard. He doesn't flinch, stutter, or hesitate. He has all the confidence a professional athlete of his calibur is expected to have. Part of you wishes he didn't.
"Huh?" you ask, completely dumbfounded.
"Let me take you out on a date," he repeats again, making himself comfortable by leaning against the arm of the loveseat you're sitting on. "Somewhere nice. Not this whole takeout situation we do all the time."
You do your best to calm yourself down. What's that thing you're supposed to do when you're freaking out? Five things you can see? Well, you can see your food getting cold on the coffee table, the way the sunset spills through the windows and paints Oliver in a warm ethereal glow, his handsome smile that makes you want to melt into him, and, and, and—
This isn't helping.
It takes you a moment to get your head anything close to clear. But, despite everything, you like what you have going on with Oliver. You've never dreamed of being his girlfriend in any realistic sense. Didn't want to deal with the stress of either being a celebrity's secret partner or the harassment that comes with going public.
Frankly, you don't want to ruin what you have. This is good enough—or so you've convinced yourself.
"I'm… I'm not interested," you finally reply.
"Oh, really?" he asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head. Despite just being rejected, he keeps his cool. Even smiles a little, and you hate that you think he looks cute.
"Yeah, really," you insist.
"Can I get a reason at least?"
If you're being honest with yourself, you don't want to give him one. Part of you knows whatever shitty excuse you try to use with him, he'll see right through it. That doesn't stop you from making an effort.
"You're like a brother to me."
It's a shit excuse, you know it. But it's the only thing you were able to come up with in your scrambled mind.
"That's fine with me."
For the second time tonight, he's left you at a loss for words. Even though you knew he'd shoot down any excuse, this wasn't the response you were expecting. You sit there for a moment, trying to think of a response to push past your lips but all that comes out are choked sounds, short of being anything close to comprehendible words.
"W-what do you mean that's fine with you?" you spit back at him, incredulous. "What, should I call you nii-chan to get you to back off?"
"Only if you want me to get hard."
Unbelievable. At this point you can't even bring yourself to look him in the eye. Maybe lying to him was the best option. You could only imagine how cheeky he would get over you telling him the truth.
"You're a fucking freak," you scoff.
"I thought you said I was your brother," he says back, emphasizing the last word with a teasing lilt.
"You can be two things at once."
"And what does that make you?"
"What do you mean what does that make me?"
"Just look at you, getting all worked up by this. You can't even look me in the eye right now." As if to prove his point, he forces himself into your field of vision, only for you to turn away.
He doesn't let you get away with it though, his hands coming up to squish your cheeks and make you face him.
"Don't lie to me and give me this brother bullshit."
"I'm not lying," you strain through your teeth.
"Yeah? Then how about you let your nii-chan take the lead?" he asks, tilting his head before he comes around to whisper in your ear. "Fuck you all nice and sweet? Maybe it'll make ya more honest."
He doesn't really give you a chance to answer him, not that you think you'd be able to. How could you bring yourself to say anything when he kisses your ear so gently?
He pulls away for a second, bringing you to face him once again.
"Fuck, you're not gonna stop me?"
The last thing you want is for him to stop. You may have been too shy to take the leap but if Oliver's going to dive in head first, who are you to stop him? All you give him is a shy shake of your head, hoping it's enough to keep him going.
"Seriously?" he scoffs, "I wanted to be a gentleman for once and now we're going at this all out of order."
His hand traces up your thigh, inching up slowly. Each inch he drags along the skin makes you feel hotter, needier for his touch elsewhere. You can't help but get restless, squeezing your thighs together for something, anything to soothe the aching desire growing between your legs.
"For what's it worth," he says, voice deep and low into your ear,"I wouldn't ask you to call me nii-chan till our third date. Minimum."
Part of you thought he'd be more impatient, more insatiable. You're not sure how you feel about this side of Oliver, too good at keeping you on the edge for his own entertainment, but one thing is certain: the suspense is killing you.
"Come on, tell nii-chan what you want. You can do that much, can't you?" he coos, like a parent trying to get their spoiled child to share a toy. "Though I guess that's how we got into this mess in the first place, huh?"
"God, don't be weird about this," your voice wobbles unsteadily.
"I didn't make it weird," he sneers, "And even if I did, it looks like you're enjoying it."
His hand finally makes its way to the wet patch of your underwear, and you're hit with the sudden realization that this is actually happening. Oliver's just one thin layer of fabric away from touching you, from giving you something you were so close to denying. You can barely hold back your voice every time he runs his fingers over your clothed cunt, especially when he presses down on your clit.
"Don't hold back," he purrs, "how's nii-chan supposed to know you're feeling good?"
"You're such a perv," you attempt to spit back at him, only for your voice to waver as he starts tracing circles around your clit.
"Look who's talking."
His fingers finally make their way under your underwear and you let out a shaky moan in relief and anticipation. It's unlike you, getting so worked up over the simplest touches, but Oliver has that effect on you.
As his pace quickens, it's much harder to keep your voice held back, choked whimpers spilling from your lips as he gets you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure.
The whole thing is embarassing, and Oliver is reveling in it; he hasn't had that stupid smirk wiped off his face since he started touching you. It doesn't help that you can't hide just how wet you are once his fingers drag between your lips before pressing shallowly against your hole.
"Didn't you think of me as a brother? Now look at you, getting all wet for him,"
"I'm not," you whine, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.
"Yeah?"
You make a poor attempt to talk back, only to be interrupted by Oliver's fingers slipping inside you, achingly slow. He's messing with you again.
"Is this enough for my precious baby sister?" he asks, voice saccharine sweet before digging his fingers in deeper. "Or does she need more?"
His words light a fire in your core, causes heat to bleed from your cheeks. It shouldn't have such an effect on you. Still, you squirm more under his touch, attempting to close your legs shut, feeling much too vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't relent, his hand pressing against you to keep you splayed open for him.
So you bite through the embarassment, barely able to force out a meek,
"More—"
"Hm? I didn't hear that."
"More, nii-chan," you moan out in the sweetest tone you can muster. Anything to mess with his head just as much as he's been messing with yours.
Something snaps in him.
He's finally starting to act more like the Oliver you expected— greedy, and grabbing at any part of you he can get his hands on. His fingers are practically knuckles deep inside you, scissoring around to find your most sensitive spot.
Once he finds it, he doesn't let go. He doesn't even get close to letting go when tears well up in your eyes. It's all so overwhelming—his fingers are already enough to stretch you out so deliciously. How could you feel so full just from this?
It doesn't help to hear his breathing stagger as his fingers fuck you in earnest. All you can do is blabber incoherently in a poor effort to ask him to slow down, but of course Oliver doesn't honor that.
"Didn't know you could get like this," he casually remarks as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside of you. "I'm lucky to have such a cute sister."
It's not lost on you how his praise makes you all fuzzy and light-headed, makes your walls flutter around him, as if his words are touching you too. All you can do is hope he doesn't notice, but luck isn't on your side.
"Fuck, you really are just as perverted as me, you know? At least I'm honest about it," he's practically groaning into your ear, only adding to your arousal. "It's ok, at least your body's more honest than whatever comes out your mouth."
Oliver gets mean; meaner than before. He breaks out all the stops, massaging your clit in tight circles while bullying your cunt by hitting the spot that makes you scream for him. It's too much, all at once.
"Yeah? You gonna cum for nii-chan now?"
It's impossible to form a coherent response—you're too distracted by the impending high and the way your pussy threatens to clamp down on his fingers like a vice. It crashes into you just a few moments later, all broken moans and choked breaths as the waves of your orgasm wash over you.
"It's ok, nii-chan's got you," Oliver guides you through it, his fingers finally slowing down as you writhe under him.
Once you're able to catch your breath, Oliver takes his fingers out from you. Seeing your arousal painted so plainly on him is enough to make your cheeks burn hot all over again.
"And you said I was a freak," he scoffs, admiring the wet mess you left behind on his fingers.
"Takes one to know one."