┌─ “ ! „ SIMON SAYS
tw. incest, current dubcon, implied past noncon/dubcon, manipulation, grooming, unreliable narrators, a lot of confused feelings, non-linear timeline
wordcount. 8k
a/n. ♡ this is the fic hidden in the wip folder so I'm tossing it out there for you guys and I hope you enjoyyyy mwuah mwuah !! umemiya being a bit of a horrible horrible guy is always my favorite mhM
umemiya hajime x fem!reader
It pisses you off. The way his smile sits on his face like it’s permanently stitched on, dimples and all. The way people fawn and cheer and encourage him.
The way they praise everything he does without knowing a single fucking thing. None of them know. They parade him around like the concept of virtue itself. Yeah, it pisses you off.
You stare at the pretty heart on top of the cappuccino foam with a distracted pinch between your brows. The cafe is always busy lately. It used to be up and coming years ago when Kotoha nee first started, but it’s always bustling now. Two part timers skirt around the place to serve all the Furin lot with polite smiles, as everyone— everyone, hangs over the booths talking about earlier today. You’d love to sink into the floor and plug your ears with dirt if that’s what it took to escape it all for a while.
But you need advice, and your sister’s too busy any other time.
Someone bumps your chair, and the jerk spills your coffee over the side of the cup. You suck your tongue. “I’m thinking of moving out of Makochi. I got another job offer in Yokohama and the prices seem reasonable enough.”
“You’ve been saying you’ll move out for years,” Kotoha gives you a quick glance over her shoulder as she works on no less than seven cups of coffee at once.
“Meant it each time,” you sigh back. The older woman only makes a faint noise to let you know she’s still listening, before you rest your cheek onto the nice wooden bar. “I just think I should.”
When she’s done dusting the cocoa powder, she finally turns to you. A slight frown sits on her pretty face when looking down at you, debating whether or not to say anything. Most people aren’t listening, and even if they are, your distaste for their illustrious head isn’t exactly unknown. Kotoha seems to come to the same conclusion when she sighs into the brief silence. “Because of Umemiya?”
You crack your lips open so you don’t let them pull in distaste. You instead place your hands under your chin so you can look up at her. “Aniiki is … part of it.” You don’t say that everything starts and ends with him. You don’t want to give him that much credit. But it’s not untrue, and that makes you frown too. “I don’t like living here anymore. It’s suffocating.” Your sister’s face falls at that, just barely, but it’s enough to have you jerking up. “You’ve helped out as much as you can, I know that. I don’t blame you at all, not for any of it, Ko neechan.”
”If anything,” you continue, “the fact that I can’t be happy even though you’re supporting me like you are, makes me feel even more like I should. If I don’t, I’m just getting in your way.”
Ever since then, Kotoha’s been the one person in your life willing to drop everything to be by your side. She’s been your rock more than anyone else. More than Bofurin… that’s for sure. Protectors of what, exactly? Even though you know it isn’t fair, you find yourself increasingly desperate to be mad at them. Any of them calling themselves big brothers. Those who stand for those who are too weak to fight. Hiragi, Tsubakino, Mizuki, even Kaji— they’re all loud when spouting their protective nonsense.
You wanna shake their stupid collars until the truth falls out of them like a gacha machine. There’s a big difference between protecting the peace, and the silence.
The blonde part timer skips between you both to grab the coffees as Kotoha’s shoulders drop, has to wait a few seconds before she can reach over to hold your hand. “I know you and Umemiya nii don’t get along. I’m sure I can’t understand all the reasons why, even though I try.” Because you haven’t told her. Because you can’t.
“But I wanna help you. You don’t need to make up if you don’t want to. I just want you to feel like someone’s here for you.” The ding of the kitchen distracts you both, as she sighs. “I get worried too, you know. If you were to move out- I- I want us two to be together at least.” And you don’t want to be alone either.
That’s why it took so much thought, despite the constant struggle, right? More than anything, you want to be with the people you care about. Kotoha gives an apologetic look as she has to walk off towards the increasing noise of the kitchen, and you take a sip of your coffee as she goes to draw the omurice hearts.
Of course it’s then that the door slams open too loud, a familiar, sing-songy tone ringing out over all the noise. “Ko- to- ha!” He comes in hands already outstretched, and rushes towards the bar to watch her work, watch her shoulders jerk up the slightest bit. “Kotoha! Your omurice looks great as always! Might order some myself~” She lets out a deep sigh when he bangs his fists on the surface in excitement, but still turns to greet him.
“If you’re gonna eat, then sit down. Don’t make a ruckus.”
He smiles wider, sits down on one of the bar stools. Only two chairs away from yours. ”You’re cool as ever, Kotoha.” Hiragi and some of the Bofurin guys fill in after him, watching the interaction go down with a mild fondness. Then the blond turns to you, dark, stormy blue eyes finding your face. And the enthusiasm doesn’t slip one bit as he says your own name long and drawn out. Feels like he adds the chan~ to it as a mockery.
Time to escape upstairs, then.
”Kotoha nee, I’m going,” you start grabbing your things as you catch eyes with Hiragi, whose face casts over with concern. That, and frustration as he watches you go. He’s watched you go for a long time. They all have.
“Don’t be like that, there’s plenty of room,” Hajime nii quickly says, waving his hand to get you to stay in your seat. “I’ll stay right over here and won’t get any closer, so stay. I’ve come to see you too, you know! See, I’m seated nice and quiet. Stay, please?” Your blank stare instantly turns into a glare sharp enough to make him get goosebumps, and you feel your spine go rigid as distaste pulls at your mouth corners. It’s instinctive, like an animal caught in a corner. He must know exactly what reaction you get when you poke a stick at someone like that, because the glitter doesn’t vanish from his eyes for a moment.
If anything, you swear it amuses him to watch you lock up, and have Kotoha’s eyes drill into the side of your face in slight anticipation.
There was a time where you wondered if he did the same to Kotoha. If she knew what you did about the ugly truths of Umemiya Hajime and just like you, she couldn’t stand to watch him pretend. Pretend to be a nice guy, honest. Good. You couldn’t ask it out of shame when you were younger. Maybe you were afraid of the answer. Of the follow-up questions.
Maybe you were afraid back then Kotoha would abandon you.
You don’t have to wonder anymore, because Kotoha still adores him. He couldn’t have. It shows when she slaps his wrist in gentle, quiet chastisement, and lets out a breath through her nose.
Your voice doesn’t waver when you stare him right in his handsome face. And your older brother sits there with his stupid, smug smile, and has the nerve to pat the stool next to him as he watches you.
“I would rather drop dead.”
+
“Here, here, sit. Let’s eat before we head out.” Umemiya’s smile is wide when Kaji rolls his eyes, but pushes off the headphones to his shoulders so that the banging of the bass sounds out between them. Kaji likes to put on a big show when it comes to listening to him— but at the end of the day, he still does as he’s told. Umemiya sits down on the small ledge before the convenient store and the icy blond follows suit.
Frowns as he takes his sucker out of his mouth, but accepts the onigiri nevertheless. “Thank you.”
The two of them sit in silence for a while, until the younger suddenly speaks up. “Why does your sister not like you?” He doesn’t look up from peeling the plastic wrapper off, but his brows get that telltale thoughtful pinch. It scrunches his nose. “Or rather, she doesn’t seem to really like any of us— but it’s really you she has a problem with, right?” He waits to bite into the snack to turn to his superior with a studying glance. “None of us know anything- even Hiragi.”
Umemiya can’t help but let a smile pull at his lips, as he leans his head on his palm and elbow on his knee. When he doesn't get the reaction he’s after, Kaji grunts. “It doesn’t sit right with me that she doesn’t let anyone help her. Not when we don’t even know what the problem is.”
The older man blinks. “Who knows… She never told me.”
It makes him think of your pretty face, twisted in anger. Of the way you seem to make yourself as small as humanly possible whenever he comes into a room, and those eyes, big and accusatory, and hurt. It’s not like he doesn’t understand it. “We used to be real close when we were younger too, you know. When we were still in group homes she’d cling to my pant leg from morning until we had to go to bed.”
A fond chuckle makes it out of him, as he runs his long fingers through his hair and sighs. He can’t take it back. Doesn’t really want to. But you’ve gotten so skittish, that he can’t even get near you without setting you on a warpath. The onigiri sits in his hand without a bite.
Kaji looks like he’s trying to solve a complicated puzzle, clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Would you say your imouto’s really the type to suddenly hate you for no reason? She wasn’t anything like that when we were still at Furin. If anything— you guys were basically inseparable. There must’ve been something.”
There sure was something. “I’m not sure,” Umemiya breathes, “and don’t go telling anyone I said this. But it might just be that she has a bit of a brother complex.” Kaji’s face sours.
“Be serious.”
“I am! We used to be close all the way up until I got a girlfriend and brought her around a few times.” He eats his onigiri in three big bites, chews too loudly. “I didn’t do it on purpose. But she suddenly started looking at me so betrayed— even though it didn’t even last that long. I think she must’ve had a little bit of a childhood crush on me, and when I got another girl involved, that really hurt her feelings.”
‘You kissed me!’
Your face flashes through his mind on the day you found out, teary eyed and flustered, and how you said his name with so much pain that it felt like it was shattering his heart. He had to. You’ve never understood he did what he did for you. It was always for you.
“I don’t like the way she acts around me the most, believe me! I’d like to do things differently if I could.” When Kaji looks back out over the street, unconvinced, Umemiya dusts his hands off. He sighs. “But even I… can’t turn back time.”
The younger man just shakes his head at that, but rolls the tiny rocks of the car park around under his foot. “Brother complex or not… Would it really be something so trivial to make her stop loving her own flesh and blood?”
The silence sits thick.
Umemiya’s lips jerk up at the corners despite his attempt to keep them down— Stop loving him. Even now, that’s not the case. If you had truly stopped, you would’ve long told someone all about him, right?
+
It’s only because she’s drinking too much, too fast. Kotoha’s completely oblivious to the fact you and even her normally clueless boyfriend are on the same page on that, watching her sink deeper into the couch in the dark as the show playing is forgotten entirely.
Her voice is a little too slurred and loud and she watches Sakura go to the kitchen, pouting all the while. “Haruka~ bring me another one, pretty please?”
“You could stand to drink some water first,” he only breathes in the doorframe - like he doesn’t quite want her to hear. She does, and also flops her head in a petulant pout.
“Don’t be that way, geez~ you’re such a buzzkill sometimes. Don’t you think?” Her long lashes flutter your way, pounding her fist on her chest to get rid of some air.
“I’m pretty sure he’s right, neechan.”
She frowns. “What?”
Sakura comes back out with another strongly poured drink for you, a milder one for himself— and water for his girlfriend. Straw, bubbles, the works. He holds it in front of her face with a polite nod to you, and a look that’s meant to signify some sort of understanding. “Wh- see, you both are ganging up on me.”
You watch her go from pouty to thoughtful, snuggling up to Haruka when he sits back down by her side.
You don’t mind Sakura as much as the rest of them. You know he adores your big brother— it's no stretch to say they all do, but at least he doesn’t make it your problem by bringing it up at every turn like you’re just out of the loop. If you try a little harder, you’d get it too. He keeps his opinions locked in a tight little box. That’s the best case scenario where Bofurin is concerned, isn’t it.
That’s why you sort of appreciate his wide eyed look her way when Kotoha’s filter drops out of her mouth. You know she’s oblivious of her double tongue when it spills the truth too easily. That she doesn’t mean to. “I honestly thought Umemiya might’ve done somethin’ to you a couple years ago. At the start, y’know? I didn’t wanna think it but I did.”
You feel your eyes go wide before you can stop it.
‘Shhhh. You gotta whisper.’
Haruka doesn’t want to be here for this conversation. You wanna be here even less, feel the pressure start closing in on your throat. Your foster sister doesn’t even open her eyes as she sips her water and unintentionally puts her foot on your neck. “You just used to be such a bubbly teenager. You didn’t have an attitude. You didn’t slam doors or bark orders around. I thought we’d get into fights at that age, but we didn’t. And-”
‘Hajime nii— stop messing around! If you’re going to do it, then do it~ You’re such a weirdo.’ Your own voice -familiar yet so far away- echoes through your skull and aches as it slides down your spine. You want the ground to swallow you in one large bite.
‘You want me to kiss everything better?’
Kotoha’s voice feels too close. Your own cloudy head is suddenly torturously tight. You’re both too tipsy and not nearly drunk enough.
The drink in your hands is too cold, the alcohol in it reeks. “Even uni. It was easy. And then one day, you were just different.” She says it with a crack in her voice. “Everything was different. You were so angry at Umemiya all the time— so I felt like maybe he did something awful to you to warrant that reaction, and I went a bit psycho on him.”
Sakura shifts uncomfortably to start taking her water out of her hands, and clears his voice. “Kotoha chan-”
“-I grabbed him by his stupid uniform- and I was really about to hit him over the head with something, if he had hurt you in some way.” She opens her eyes, teary as she looks at you — it takes everything in you not to snap in two.
‘Heh, just come here. When did you get all shy on me? Come here, I gotta show you something.’
His voice echoes even louder, like it was spoken into your hair yesterday, pulled back into his side so close you could die. You’re pretty sure you would’ve died for him back then. ‘If you don’t have fun, I’ll apologize, alright?’
Even if you tried your very best, you wouldn’t be able to hide the furious, embarrassed heat that works over your face, or the way your hands shake. “And he swore to me that nothing happened. He swore it.”
You cling to the glass like it's a life vest now, hiding your heart from view with a couple ice blocks and a slice of lemon. Your sister swallows. “You know I would do anything for you, right? So if he was lying to me- if something did happen—”
“Kotoha,” your own voice surprises you more than it should. You speak as if it's through someone else, and you smile. You think you do, at least. You try to. “Let’s not talk about aniiki right now? We were having fun.” The living room feels so awfully, suffocatingly empty that speaking makes you hoarse.
The man on the other end of the couch slides off to rub his sweaty hands over his pants, and glances at you like he wants to escape to the kitchen again. He looks like he’ll apologize. But you can’t handle that right now. Really.
“Sakura, take care of my sister for a bit, okay? I want to go take a shower, and use the bathroom.”
You push up from the furniture too to march into the tiled room just quick enough to stop yourself from hurling your guts out on your carpet— turning the shower onto the hardest spray as you heave over the drain. You’re sure you hear Kotoha nee talk in the other room, her voice distressed and angry and desperate. But you can’t make out a single word.
All your brain repeats over and over is the way Hajime nii used to call your name.
The way it bounced off of his bedroom walls.
+
He loves you. Of course he does.
Nothing could keep a big brother from loving his little sister a bit too much, and spoiling her rotten. Is that really so bad? Is he the weird one?
“There he goes again, babysitting.” One of his friends laughs, wrapping his arm around his shoulder to ruffle his hair every which way. Umemiya’s quiet as he studies your chubbier face, the way your backpack looks too heavy for your small body. Is it really babysitting when he wants to do it? When it makes him feel important.
The other middle schooler waves off the silence with a laugh. “Can’t your brother go to the arcade with us today, little lady? You’ve got other brothers and sisters to walk you home, right?”
You can just about hide your pout, look up through thick lashes when you hesitate. It rounds your face in that adorable way he can’t get enough of. After a bit of silence, you nod. “Kotoha nee.”
“That’s right! Ask Kotoha-chan.” The brunet squeezes him under his arm a little tighter. “Right, Umemiya?”
It’s not hard to read the way your face falls, and how defenseless you look balling your fists into your skirt. You look at him like you’re expecting the most. He wants to do that for you. He wants… “Don’t decide that stuff for me,” he sighs out before slipping out of the hug, instead taking your hand in his warmer one with a smile. “My precious little sister’s asking me for help, of course I’m going.”
You basically press yourself to his side from the second he does, and stare at his friends like a skittish stray- even after all this time. Can’t help it when his presence is the only safe one you’ve had for so long. “It’s okay,” he nods, and the line between your brows smooths out.
But the three of them can’t help it. Though they’ve grown taller and their voices no longer crack, it’s obvious in times like these. They’re still only children. The tallest brunet lets his shoulders drop as he scans the situation. “Umemiya-san~ Hang out with your friends for once instead. You’d rather be with your little sister than with us? I’m not telling you to let her go alone! There’s other people who can do it.”
The black haired boy who’d been quiet up to this point shakes his head, and smiles. “Forget it, Taka. It’s no use. When it comes to his imouto, Umemiya’s totally defenseless.” Then he whispers under his breath. “He’s a siscon, siscon.”
You squeeze his hand a little tighter, pull it for attention. It doesn’t exactly feel good to be read so easily— but he does love you. He’d drop anything to be by your side. What’s wrong with that? They’re his age too, but they don’t get it yet. Family’s like that. “Can we go, oniichan?”
He nods, and pets your head while waving the other boys goodbye. “Sure. See you guys tomorrow.”
“See? He’s a real siscon in the flesh! Really.”
His shoulders hike up to his ears at the word. That’s not… He just loves you. They don’t know what you two have been through together. He loves you. Instead of responding to their childish banter, he helps your backpack off of your back to swing it over his shoulder, painting on a perfectly practiced smile. “Let’s go. Niichan’s friends are a bit weird today, right?”
Under the teasing of the other teens, he turns over his shoulder. “We can hang out when you guys get over yourselves.”
One of the boys pulls a face. “Yeah, yeah. See you later, oniichan.” It’ll be forgotten by tomorrow.
The accusation will slip off of him like water and oil. It will.
Your face is still indescribable as you walk home, and it puts a strange pit in his stomach.
Crossing the threshold with you in toe only makes him sit with your earlier silence all the way back. “We’re home.” He speaks into the hall, ushers you ahead, and kicks his shoes off to stride into the living room. The house is quiet, his foster mom isn’t back yet. “Kotoha-chan, can you help her with her bath?”
The younger girl looks up from her homework, to you, then back up at him. “Huh? Really?! You don’t want to do it?”
He grimaces, before collapsing into the couch. “Not tonight. I’m tired.” No one gets the situation he’s in. His foster sister is all too happy to jump up and rush over to you, with an excited giggle that only makes him roll his head to the side to look at you.
“Yeeyy! Us girls get to have bath time for once! I’ll put a treatment on your hair, make it all soft and shiny.” Your expression brightens a little, but only until you catch his eyes again, and the oldest Umemiya can’t help but frown. A frown you mirror too easily, being whisked down the hall. “Let’s go.”
It’s not like that.
+
Time goes by. And things don’t stay so easy.
He’s twisted and sick, panting your name into the silence of his room. Squeezing his fingers tighter, and throwing his head back as sweat sits on his brow.
Why is it like this?
Why is he…
He loves you. He loves you, loves you, loves you.
His team can love you, but they’ll never do it like he does. You’re his little sister.
It’s sick. But simple.
+
It’s too easy. You’re too sweet to him.
The words come out whether he wants them to or not. “Give me a kiss to make it better?” Your face drops further, before you push the gauze down harder onto the bloody scrape down his forehead, brow, the swollen eye. “Ouch.”
“I wouldn’t have to kiss it better if you didn’t get hurt! You always do this.” You snap in response, and your eyes find his. His entire body is wired too tight, and nervous tension mixes with that delicious after fight glow that has his head spinning. He blinks and you draw closer. The cloudy feeling in his brain makes you look even softer than normal.
Your pajamas are too big, a shirt of his and threading, linen shorts that sit too low— as you pull both feet onto the chair and against your body, and after a few seconds of silent protest you move. “Just- tell me where to kiss it, niichan. I wanna go back to bed.”
He pulls at your shirt until you shift and get onto the bed with him, and he drops himself back into the pillows. You follow, so you can watch him better. He can’t help but see it in the way your lashes flutter at him, and your hair falls around your delicate features.
You’re so pretty. So pretty he could die.
You don’t even blink when he hums. “You’re sweet. I really wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help me out. Kiss it here?” He points to his forehead, and you move over his body to place a little peck right between his brows. Gentle and obedient, just like you are. The adrenaline from the fight is still coursing through his limbs, and makes everything tingly.
It gives him more courage to do what he does. It isn’t the first time, but he treads carefully. “And here.” His fingertip pats his lips a few times, as you bristle. You turn your nose up at him and pout, and the look makes him pull at your shirt. “Please kiss it here? Got hit on my cheek too, my mouth’s all bloody.” He opens his mouth to show you. You look away when he pushes the sore area with his tongue.
“I believe you, don’t be weird!” Your cheeks get pushed out when you bite your lip. “Do I have to?”
“You have to. Kiss me here, and quick. I’m bleeding out.” You whine a soft ‘nii nii~’ before he goes on. “You know you need to kiss it better to heal well.”
“I know that!” You dip down to lay your lips over his with a noise, barely a second before you draw back. “There.” The heat of your mouth on his leaves him wanting to wrap his hand around your head and pull— something he just barely resists to instead brush his fingers through the hair behind your ear.
“What kind of pitiful little baby kiss was that? Do it properly.” You get hot from the tips of your ears as you stare him down, gunmetal eyes boring into yours. He knows you don’t know better. He knows that. He can’t stop himself from using that to his advantage. “Use your tongue and kiss it better properly. Then niichan will let you go back to bed. Promise.”
It’s an addicting sort of rush to watch you catch your tongue between your lips in thought, and giving in too easily. He bites his bottom lip, as the bed squeaks when you shift. Your own heart beats in your throat. His breaths brush over your lips, right before you lean down again and kiss him— let him kiss you back. Lips become touching tongues, warm and wet as he places a hand on your face to draw you in, keep you locked around him.
You taste soft and good and Hajime nii groans pornographically into your mouth, too loud into the night air. It’s just… you actually let your tongue be tasted by him, let him lick into your mouth and suck on the soft muscle. Mouths opening to mix spit in a way that has him pulling you by your hips onto him. If you taste the blood that was in his mouth not a half hour ago, you don’t say anything about it. Just lick the way he’s showing you, as your chest moves up and down against his.
The heat travels down your nose, cheeks, slides down your throat as he pulls back, and your hands come to hold yourself up on his shoulders. “There. That’s fine, isn’t it? N-niichan. I think we should- …go back to bed.” There’s no more gap between your bodies, your hesitant mimicking touches driving him on.
“No, not yet. It’s starting to feel better but it’s not done yet. I can’t ask anyone else. And it feels good, right?” Your pout is so cute. “It’s okay if you like it.” You let him pull you in, and moan when he sucks your tongue into his mouth.
If you knew any better, maybe you’d blame him a little more. You’d be grossed out by the tent in his boxers that’s been there since he snuck you into his room— since he made you help him peel his shirt off. It’s obvious he’s bringing you to a breaking point, when you pant, and tears sit unspilled on your lashes. “I don- Haji niichan~ I feel weird. We gotta stop.” You beg again. You instinctively shift your hips down on top of him to get some friction when his hands grab at your hips, and roll them.
“Just stay for a little bit. I feel so much better when you’re here.”
Before you can escape he bucks and lays you down onto your back, lifting his much bigger, broader shape over top of you. He drops his weight into you on purpose, squishing you into the mattress, and lets his hips press you into the bed with a grinding motion that makes your brows pinch together. “Mh- Am I… helping you?”
“Yeah. Promise.” Hajime hums, and those pretty stormy blues find your face. The way he looks at you— it’s innocent in a way that only you two can get when he’s alone with you like this. It feels good. And your body is so warm. “My little sister tastes so sweet.” You push back into the next kiss and feel his lips lead yours, opening for him. His tongue is soft, tastes good.
It’s distinctly Hajime. He brushes your tongue until you feel all tingly inside. Niichan’s face just looks so focused and determined, tinting slightly pink over his cheeks. You’re not sure why, but you don’t want to stop. There’s a kiss to your temple, before his hands start sneaking under your shorts and underwear to pull it down your thighs. “N-no, not there! It’s embarrassing.” You fluster, but he smiles. “Niichan!”
“Got something to check. It’s okay, it’s just me. Show big brother real quick.” He pants into the silence as you obey so well, and big eyes flick all around his face with the utmost trust. He does feel bad. But it’s just once.
+
It’s hot.
Not just warm in your hands, and mouth, but hot.
His cock’s so hot and hard that you’ll get a fever if you keep your head down here and watch through your lashes. His large hand comes to your crown to half-support, half-keep you in place, as his cheeks and ears have a peachy, blood-rushed color. And he pants your name so sweetly. “Ah, that’s it. So good, baby. I can’t believe you’re letting niichan see you like this- Again. Use- you. You like playing with me?” He pulls back to rub the flushed tip against your sloppy mouth and cheek.
“You asked me to!” You pout. It only takes a slight push back into your lips for you to hollow your cheeks around the hot head of his cock and suck as your tongue laps up the fluid leaking from it. You look like you’re enjoying the taste. “Just like helping- onii- o’n-chan-” His thighs flex under your fingertips, while he groans from above you. In the quiet of the house, it feels like it echoes too much. Feels like he wouldn’t mind being caught. But you don’t stop, because the weight of him in your mouth just feels so good.
Even when the pressure increases into the back of your mouth, watch him push into the sloppy, wet heat of your tongue. “Just means- you like sucking your big brother’s cock, right? F- hg-fuck-It feels nice, right?”
“…Yeah. It feels- ‘n tastes -weird but- gud.” You agree as it twitches in your mouth, and you work your way back down towards the dark hairs that go down from his navel to his cock. His hand gets a better grip to push your head back a little, making you unlatch from him with a deep breath. The cock stands so hard right before your face it’s hard not to take it right back between your swollen lips, but you still look up. “What? I said it… It’s embarrassing when you look at me like that.”
“You’re not letting Kento nii touch you? He’s not making moves on you?” His flushed face doesn’t match the way his eyebrows furrow.
The oldest of your foster siblings. He’s always been nice to you, but he hasn’t once made any kind of move like that. Niichan studies you like you’re confessing to a crime. “No,” you say. It’s the truth. Kento nii is nothing like your blood brother, who licks up and down your body in places you don’t show to other people. “Really, nii nii.”
When you shake your head, you embarrassingly almost brush your mouth against his cock in the process again, feel the heat of it on your face. Hajime nii waits a few seconds longer, and you reach up to grab his shaft with two soft hands, brushing your thumbs up to the head until another drop of precum drops out onto your naked thigh. You place it back onto your bottom lip, and lick over the slit like you’re trying to make up for something. “Oniichan’s the only one I do this with.”
”Good,” he unthaws only to push his cock back into your mouth, rubbing it onto your tongue with his face finally relaxing— getting that beautiful look of absolute pleasure back as he draws you closer. “Guess- ah, I’m pretty possessive. I don’t want my little sister to be touched by anyone else. Fu—ck, we need to stop.” The tug on your hair only makes your pussy more slick, dripping onto the floor below with embarrassing need.
You want niichan’s hand on you again, like when he sneaks into your bed at night. “Mhm, niichan. Niichan- Hajime nii!”
You want him to rub on you ‘til you see stars. Can you ask for that? Would he say yes? “Shit, that’s it. You’re so pretty. You’ve gotten so good at sucking cock. I’ve made you so good- such a good, little throat. You like it?” He bullies more of his cock into your mouth until you can barely see straight, and a choking strain sits on your lungs. “Or is it me, you like?” Both. Your poor center’s feeling like a fire out of control.
“Fuck. I’m- we need to stop doing this. You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” He holds your head like he wants you to stay though, pumps himself into you with losing patience.
“Ah- baby. You’re so special to me. Nothing compares to a big brother and his imouto, okay? Nothing. Don’t go playing with other men.” It’s hot when it enters the back of your mouth and burns to stretch you out, and tears well over as you’re looking at niichan with reverent eyes. “Come up here, baby, c’mere. Sit on niichan’s lap.” You’re dragged off the floor with an easy sigh and into his strong arms as they wind around you. “I know you won’t play with anyone else. You’re a good- little- sister.”
+
The giggle shoots like an arrow through your lungs.
“… G-girlfriend?”
Your eyes stay wide, and tears wind up filling them somehow.
“You have… a girlfriend.”
The stares of people passing by don’t sting nearly as much as watching them stand side by side. You’re not sure if it would hurt more, or less, if there weren’t two dozen prying eyes around. You’ve never felt this way before. Never felt so shitty.
Your bottom lip wobbles when you look at him. Watch his broad, infinitely bigger form crowd your vision as he takes a step closer, holding out his hands like you’re an animal caught in a trap. The comparison isn't far off, you guess, given that your voice shakes when you speak. “You said what we have is important to you- to only trust you. I trusted- y-you.”
“Trust me. We’re family. I have your best interest at heart-”
“You- the things we do are special— you shouldn’t do them with anyone else. You said that!” It hurts. “You kissed me!” You snap.
Pushing his hand away from you doesn’t stop your world from breaking down.
After a few seconds, he takes a breath. His eyes flick around the courtyard with a baffled look.
“…On the cheek, imouto.” Liar. What a great fucking liar. Hajime’s blushing around his collar at the way people are staring, but you’re far worse off. The hiccuping spasm of your lungs makes it impossible to stop tearing up. There’s a deep shame that pours into your lungs and pools at your feet, and a thousand pieces of glass have been lodged into your throat. You can’t believe him— like you’re the crazy one.
Your tears spill over when you turn on your heel, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. “Imouto. Imouto~” As if your walk of shame back isn’t bad enough, he has the nerve to call your name. “I love you.” You refuse to look back.
You can hear the practiced way he puts his perfect smile back on, waving everything off with a well-practiced chuckle. “Sorry, don’t mind all that! Because we grew up in foster care, she’s a bit more possessive than most siblings. I swear she’s normally not like that.”
Her syrupy voice lets out a giggle. “I think it’s sweet!”
+
Ignore it, stuff it down, that feeling of being used for his base urges and being shoved aside after. Pretend it never happened.
Pretend it would stop stinging so bad if you gave it enough time. You’re still waiting on the part where you get rewarded for your commitment. You push the keys into lock and slide the door open with a sigh, drop your bags, only to freeze halfway to. A familiar white-blond turns over his shoulder to look at you as he rights himself on your couch, and you stop midway through kicking your shoes off to think.
Recognising the option that you might run, he explains first, then chuckles. “Don’t bolt out. Kotoha asked me to be here. I’ll be gone soon.”
It’s not the big win for you he seems to think it is. Any moment by his side is a bit too much for you, either way. When he turns back to the tv playing at low volume, you click your tongue, and resume taking off the rest of your outside gear to push through to the kitchen. “Kotoha nee’s not the only one living here. You should probably ask me too if I’m okay with you even being in here.”
“Don’t we both already know the answer?” He chuckles, makes the hairs on your neck stand up.
“Do you have to wonder why?” You bite back- you don’t mean to let him get under your skin, it just happens. Your throat is tight when you swallow, and that anxious feeling gets back onto your chest like it always does now when he’s around. “I wasn’t prepared to see your face tonight. I’ve had a long day, if you’re thinking of making it worse.”
Instead of responding to your jab, he only turns the sound down more. Sits in the dark room and lets his eyes follow you when you turn the light on to search through some of the cupboards. He smiles when he catches your eyes, however weary your gaze, and it softens his features too fondly. “This is the most I’ve heard you say to me in the last three years.”
“—Don’t expect it to become a habit.” You grab the bag of cornflakes with the intention of escaping to your room, but maybe because he knows you, Hajime stands from the couch to walk up. Too close, you bang yourself back against the counter with a hiss. “Get away from me.” He’s only matured since the days you used to be by his side, and maybe it’s being away from him so long, but everything about him feels big. He’s a heavyweight compared to you. “Hajime, I’m serious.”
He stops a few feet short of you to place his hand on the top row of cupboards, and the orangey kitchen light reflects in his dark eyes like a fire. “Do you feel better being this mean to me?”
“Huh?”
“If it makes you feel better, then I’m all for it. But it doesn’t seem to.” It rattles your chest, that feeling he’s giving you. It’s infuriating that it has goosebumps appearing on your skin. The familiar scent of him has nostalgia threatening to overtake you. “I miss you.” His deep voice is too soft. Too gentle for someone getting up in your face like he is, staring you down. Threatening the little island of peace you’ve worked years to build. “I’ve missed everything about you, even if you hate me for a while. I wish—”
“You of all people don’t get to say that to me. Are you out of your mind, you sister-fucking freak?” Hajime’s hand recoils on his way to touch you like he’s been slapped, and an unreadable expression comes to his face. It’s mean, but are you wrong?
Your eyes dart past him into the hallway. Kotoha should’ve told you he’d be here. Heat finds its way onto your face. “I’m not going to sit here listening to you act like you never did anything wrong.”
His smile sours, as he bends before you. So that you’re eye to eye, his hands on his knees. He licks his lips.
It’s quiet, until the ground rumbles and seems to fall beneath you. “You know, I was always curious. Are you really mad we did what we did, or that I tried to stop?” The words cut through your shield like a serrated knife, ripping it open with too much ease. That’s not fair. It’s not like that. He’s no longer smiling as he studies your face too closely, as tears well up in your eyes and you can’t swallow them away.
It’s nothing you haven’t thought to yourself before.
That traitorous aching sits in your stomach again now, almost makes you collapse through your knees. “You only got upset after, didn’t you? Tell me, imouto. Was it really just me?”
You need him to stop. “Don’t say that.”
“You’ve got a lot of things to say, for someone who wouldn’t take baths or sleep without me. Someone who would beg to come along to parties so you could sit in my lap. But you hate me because I love you?” Hajime’s eyes burn with a fire you’re powerless against.
“I didn’t do that knowing what it meant to you! You were getting off on it!”
“And so were you! On my tongue, many, many times!”
Your throat aches, and you swallow thick tears down with a cry. “I didn’t know all that before! I didn’t know! You knew I didn’t know.” Your cheeks hurt from crying like this, from staring him in his face like this. You wipe a hand over your eyes, and bite your bottom lip to keep the wobbling down. Who are you mad at, really? What is it that made you feel this way?
Despite not knowing an answer, words still make their way out of you like they radiate from your blood and bones. “I hate you! I hate you for taking advantage of me.”
That’s what he did. He left you. He’s the one who left you first. He looks at you so intently, like he’s ready to jump into your eyes and pull you out of the swallowing sea. Always so ready for self sacrifice. You always disliked that about him.
“And … I hate myself for being upset that you tried to replace me. I can’t stand you.”
You clench your eyes shut against the hot tears welling up— it’s an infuriating blow to your ego. Hajime’s hand reaches up to your face, connecting before you get the chance to pull away. He leans in, forces you back against the furniture too easily. Until you’re only a few breaths away from him, his voice lowering. “Shhh, shhh, shhh. My little baby sister. My only baby sister.” When you open your eyes, he’s nose to nose with you, wiping away streaking tears from your cheeks.
Thumbing your cheeks, before pulling you into his arms again. “Don’t cry. Shh, shhh, shh.” He grabs your wrists when you’re trying to pull away, and nuzzles into your neck. His smell’s overwhelmingly familiar— the way his shape fits against yours. The feeling of his breathing on your neck. It’s all too much for you. Your body slumps and you fall into his hold, right against his heartbeat— it feels so nice. Like you’re landing on your bed after years of being separated from it. Hajime nii presses a kiss to your jaw, then pulls you in deeper.
No, you won’t do it. You refuse.
“You’re still my favorite girl.”
His lashes tickle against your skin on the way up, and a pressure pounds between your ears as tears keep on slipping out. It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking traitorous that your heart beats faster when he says it. When his hands cup your face so he can whisper it against your lips. “You’ll always be my favorite girl.”
Your mouth’s dry and empty, and your heart pounds like a drum when a tiny peck is brushed over your lips, leaving too soon. “Forgive me? Hm?”
One hand goes to slide under your ass to grab hold of your thigh, and with one fell swoop he lifts you against his body and off the ground, and your arms wrap around his head to keep yourself upright. Through your tears, you can just barely make out his face, and the flushed way he’s staring at you with reverence. His voice falters when he says your name, and his mouth searches for an opening. “Can you please forgive me for loving you so much?”
Fuck.
All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2025. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.
