Archive of Our Own

your mum had gotten remarried just after you turned eighteen. he was a good guy, she was happy, and so you were happy too. of course you were! 

it just. 

it was your eighteenth birthday. and your mum had promised you that since money had been tight last year (and the year before, and the year before, and and and) that she’d go all out for your eighteenth. 

stupid of you to get your hopes up. it wasn’t like she did it on purpose, she wasn’t a cruel or malicious person, just…forgetful. busy, that was the word. she was a busy person, heavily involved in her work as a nurse, in caring for your elderly neighbors, in her volunteer work. 

but you’d thought, maybe.  

again, stupid. 

you’d hardly even met her boyfriend, just the once at Christmas. he was polite, an accountant or something or other, who looked at your mum with adoration and wonder, who rushed to fulfill her every whim and desire. the wedding would be quick, with your mum pregnant, and any talk of you moving out was quickly met with betrayed expressions and heartbroken ‘but are you really going to just leave? when you know I’ll need your help? your father is going to be so busy at work, and I can’t take time off…’  

so moving out was quietly and firmly crossed out too. 

you’d learned a long time ago that fighting her when she’d made up her mind was an exercise in futility. 

and you liked kids, you did. 

it wouldn’t be so terrible to take care of your little sibling for a little while, just until your mum and stepfather's schedules eased. really it wouldn't. 

then two months before the wedding, you learned that your new stepfather had another child. 

Kyle. 

he came to stay with you, all three of you, to get to know his new family. he was older than you by several years, in the military. 

you weren’t sure what you expected, but Kyle was…

more. 

he was tall and handsome, laughed easily, he was warm and openly affectionate, and he smiled like the sun. 

“Hi.” he grinned, head tilted slightly to look you in the eye considering the height difference, his voice bright and warm and sweet, and your heart tripped over itself as you stared up at him. “Hear you’re my new little sister.” 

something inside you twisted, sticky, like a thorn dripping with honey winding through your stomach. you managed a nod, trying to smile back at him, offering your hand. “And you’re my big brother?” 

he laughed, the sound making your whole body tingle. and it only got worse when he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 

you couldn’t breathe for a moment. 

“Handshakes are for strangers, love. Hugs are for family, right?” 

your hands were already white knuckled on the rough military canvas jacket he wore. you couldn’t catch your breath, your knees were shaking and you couldn’t understand why. 

“Right,” you whispered, biting your tongue when his arms squeezed you tighter, lifting you off the ground, and with that one simple move completely wiping clean the anxieties in the back of your head that had cluttered there since the wedding had been announced, and he'd done it like it cost him nothing. 

his voice was warm in your ear, radiating down your back and thawing the cold that never went away. “Glad to meet you, sweetheart.” 

he smelled like the forest. like fresh air and sunshine and just a tinge of something darker, like maybe motor oil or something similar yet equally unfamiliar. 

it made your head swim. you inexplicably wanted more. “G-glad to meet you too.” 

when he put you back down on your feet you had to force yourself not to reach out to him again immediately. 

don’t be greedy. you told yourself firmly. he’s just being polite. he’s just being kind.  

you found yourself sticking close to him during the run up to the wedding. 

or as close as you could with your mother needing help at any and all hours ensuring every detail down to the smallest level was attended to her liking. 

you sat beside him at meals, during the evenings crowded in front of the telly as a family or playing board games around the table. he always had one broad muscular arm slung on the back of your chair, that forest and fresh air and sunshine scent surrounding you like a comforting blanket. and every time he’d duck his head, leaning in close, mouth hovering near your ear to whisper a joke or a question about the show or the game, you found yourself turning to him like a flower to the sun, your insides warming, face flushing. the hair on the back of your neck would raise and you’d hold your breath. 

he was so kind, so patient with you. even when you’d fumble the plates and dishes as you washed up or when you brought them over to the table, even when you’d get distracted during a conversation and miss what you'd been asked, even when you’d mess up breakfast or forget something at home while you were out as a family. 

all the usual things that made your mother frown and sigh and shake her head and wonder what they were going to do with you, Kyle just smiled at, kissed your forehead and told you not to worry. he’d help you clean up that spilled milk. he’d help you run back to the house for the checkbook you’d been responsible for bringing. he’d whisper to you what the answer to the question you’d been asked was. not to worry. 

strangely, you sometimes got the feeling that as sweet as Kyle was with you, as open and warm as he was to you, it wasn’t like that between him and his own father, or even your mum. 

sometimes you’d glance up from your plate at dinner, trying to take advantage of the fact that no one paid attention to you so you could sneak a glimpse at your new step brother. and there would be a strange…disconnect in Kyle’s face. 

like, he’d be smiling and laughing with his father and your mum the same as always, but his eyes would be cold. 

you almost got the feeling he didn’t like them very much. like maybe they’d done something he didn’t like. 

it made your stomach hurt to see that expression. what if he looked at you like that? if he ever did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand it. 

so you put all the effort you could, in between wedding prep and nursery preparation and your usual chores, into doing everything you could for him. 

his laundry, making his coffee and his lunches complete with little notes decorated with your doodles and wishing him a good day when he went in to work on the military base nearby. once, you even buffed his shoes when you caught him frowning while your mum chided you for breaking a plate. 

“Love.” 

you startled, nearly dropping the boot you were hunched over, wrenching your body around to face him. 

it was late. late enough you didn’t think he’d catch you. you’d only just started, barely the toe of one boot freshly polished from your position kneeling on the floor where he kept them. 

he was bare chested, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway, low slung sweatpants looking soft and inviting. 

a smile was tugging at his mouth. “Whatcha doin, sis?” 

you paused.

the smile on his mouth faded as you felt your eyes sting. swallowing, you managed to force out quietly, “I just…I thought you might be mad at me.” 

now he was frowning in earnest, warm brown eyes softer than his sweats. “Aw, love, why on earth would I ever be mad at you?” 

you shrugged, ducking your head. you ignored the soft sound of him moving closer, but your breath caught when a warm, calloused hand gently cupped your jaw and lifted your face. he was so big from this angle, it made your stomach feel funny. made your breath thin. his touch just made it worse. 

“Tell me, sis.” He smiled, sunshine warm. “C’mon, who can you talk to if not your big brother?” 

“I dropped the plate,” you admitted quietly. 

he stood there, waiting. “…and?” 

your eyes stung sharper, and your voice caught. “You were frowning at me.” 

a spasm of emotion flit over his face, too quick for your to catch and decipher. his jaw tensed, his handsome face going like stone for a second. “Fuck.” 

he used his hand on your chin to draw you to your feet, his boot falling from your numb fingers, and then into another hug. it was such a stark relief, surrounded by his warmth and strength and skin (so much of it, burning hot and bare and pressed against your mouth and your nose so that you could almost taste it) that you burst into tears. 

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, rocking you back and forth. “I’m your big brother now. You’re my sweet baby sister, and nothing you ever do could ever make me mad at you. Ok?” 

you hesitated. was that how it worked? 

his hand threaded through your hair, drawing your head back to meet his gaze. he looked like a Greek demigod like this, fierce and unquestionable. calm and in control. “Say you understand.” 

“I understand,” you whispered, rewarded immediately by his smile, a kiss to your forehead. 

“There we go then,” he said proudly, squeezing you tight. “Just do what I tell you to, and I’ll never be anything but proud and happy with you, sis. Sound good?” 

you sniffled, clinging to him, head swimming. “Yeah,” you breathed. 

for a long while he let you cling to him, gently rocking you back and forth, rubbing circles over your back. enough that you almost felt like you might fall asleep standing up. until -

he drew back suddenly, grinning. “Wait, wait right there, have something for you.” 

he raced back down the hall, but where you expected that kind of speed coming from a man his size to be loud enough to rouse the whole house, he somehow managed to be entirely silent. you didn't even hear the creaky board in the hall when he must've rushed by it to get to his guest room. that must've been a military thing, right? to be able to run silently?

you were still blinking in confusion when he reappeared, grinning wide, holding something behind his broad back. you didn’t even have time to catalogue the scattered scars and tattoos in the warm glow of the lamplight before he was thrusting a box under your nose. 

“Happy birthday, lovie.” 

you stared down at the box. unmoving. 

that was right. your birthday was tomorrow, or rather, today since it was after midnight. you’d forgotten. 

and Kyle had gotten you a present. wrapped it, even, in expensive looking baby pink wrapping paper, tied with a crisp white bow. 

your vision clouded, and your hands shook as you took it from him. 

“Kyle…” you sniffed. “I don’t know what to say.” 

he was smiling still, but there was a new tension in his shoulders. that pinch between his brows he got sometimes when he looked at your mum. “Haven’t even opened it yet, sweetheart. What if you hate it?” 

you shook your head, unable to speak. what could you tell him? that it had been years since anyone had given you a birthday present? 

you didn’t want to complain. 

“Go on,” he encouraged sweetly. “Wanna see if I got it right.” 

obediently, you carefully loosened the bow. removed the wrapping paper without ripping it, lifting the lid of the box to reveal a full, seventy two piece set of Copic markers you’d been staring at on your phone just a couple days ago before dinner. 

he must’ve seen you looking at it, somehow. must’ve heard your mother mention your birthday, as you weren’t sure your stepfather knew and you hadn’t told him. and he must’ve gotten online and ordered you a set of markers that cost almost six hundred American. they didn’t even ship to England anymore. 

but he’d managed to get you a set, a full set, regardless. like it was easy. simple. a given. 

Kyle had to rescue the box when your shaking hands made you fumble it. he set it aside, and let you throw yourself back into his arms, caught you easily, rocking you back and forth once more. 

“So I did that good?” he chuckled as you cried silently into his neck. 

he held you so easy, let you stay right there, selfishly, greedily soaking up his warmth. his kindness. hoping the scent of his skin rubbed off on you, and maybe you’d sleep soundly and well. 

“Thank you,” you said thickly, voice still wet, once you’d gotten yourself under control. 

he hummed, squeezing you tight, kissing your temple. “Least you deserve, love. Happy birthday.” 

you’d happily have stayed there in his arms forever. 

but when his broad hand rubbed down your back, something strange happened. you felt a pulse between your legs. that warmth you were hungrily soaking up from his body, his touch, seemed to follow that pulse, sinking low and swirling- 

your eyes went wide, shock too acute as understanding dawned for you to even stiffen. 

oh. 

oh.  

oh, god, no. 

Kyle let you go, and you fussed with your hair, avoiding his eye, trying to act like you hadn’t just realized you were attracted to your step brother. 

he was grinning at you. “Glad you liked your present, and I’m glad we cleared all that other stuff up now.” 

you smiled, or tried, flustered and trying not to panic. this was bad. this was sick of you, wasn’t it? 

Kyle cocked his head, looking at you, and for a moment you thought he could see right through you, could tell you’d wanted him to do more than just hug you. wanted him to let you cling to his naked chest while he, while he- 

but he didn’t know. course he didn’t. if he had he wouldn’t have invited you to skip out on wedding planning the next day and go to lunch. 

you accepted eagerly, because it was surely a bad idea, but. but you weren’t going to say anything. you wouldn’t do anything you shouldn’t. and maybe it would go away, and he’d never know. 

and you just…you needed more of that warmth. that kindness. that acceptance. 

he sent you to bed with a kiss to your forehead and a stern, sweet order to get some sleep. 

you didn’t get much. tossing and turning as you worried about it in your head. it wasn’t that bad, you finally decided, clinging to hope. right? you weren’t blood related. and he’d never know.  

what harm was there in a little crush? 

_-_

he made a habit out of taking you to lunch, at least once a week or more when he could manage it while he was at home, and whenever the two of you weren't on one your brother/sister ‘dates’ (the use of that word made you throb, and you tried not to show how much you liked it) for one reason or another, the two of you were almost always talking either on facetime or texting or whatever the two of you could manage. even after the wedding was over and he was deployed again, when you expected him to quietly but surely drop out of your life, he didn't.

he stayed. 

made a point of it, actually. 

of course you couldn’t always reach him, for his safety and the security of his team and everything when they went on a communications blackout, but whenever he had a moment he was on the phone with you, asking about your day and what you were up to. 

besides just calling and texting, you wrote him letters too. included drawings, colored of course by the marker set he'd so generously given you. mostly they were just silly doodles of your brand new half brother when he was born, the new family cat your mother had insisted on, the little garden of windowsill flowers she’d planted. 

you never meant to tell him that you were the one who’s room the baby’s bassinet wound up in for the first two months. that the kitten became your responsibility too when your mum went back to work. that you were the one watering and fertilizing and fussing over the finnicky flowers. 

but he had this way of drawing things out of you, and when you told him you hated complaining, that you didn’t mind, he'd sounded so hurt.  

“You’d really keep something as simple as what you got up to every day from your brother? C'mon, lovie, you know I just want to know what you're up to. I miss my little sister, is that so bad?” 

so you gave up trying to protect him from your boring day to day life, though you were always always careful to downplay how much you did around the house. it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, at least just for now while your mum and stepfather got settled. and you knew you should be grateful to your mum and step father for housing you and feeding you and clothing you. you were grateful, you were, you just… 

at the same time you remembered that little flat a few streets down you’d been eyeing for months before graduation. the brochure of art classes and glossy flyers for art schools tucked away in your nightstand. 

it was ungrateful of you to want to leave your mum to chase your own dreams when she’d given you nineteen years of life and care and love. right? that was what she kept saying, and she had to be right. 

so you downplayed what you could, minimized what you told Kyle about those aspects of your life, even as they started to feel like they were pressing in around you on all sides when he asked you how you’d been and you lied to him. 

nothing else was off limits to Kyle, though, and it was so nice to have someone you could tell absolutely everything to. someone who gushed with you about your dreams, who was interested in your opinions (art, literature, movies, music, hell even memes), someone who reassured you that you weren’t worthless, who worried over you. 

and he did worry over you. he was such an overprotective brother, god, it should've been overbearing and annoying when he told you who you could and couldn’t hang out with, that you shouldn’t date anyone until he’d personally vetted them, basically forbid you from even looking at boys while he was away. and you tried to pretend that it was all annoying and ridiculous the way you should have felt, because you’d die of embarrassment if he ever found out that him acting like that always had you stuffing a hand between your thighs and rocking against your palm, your pillow, or worse, one of the stuffed bears he’d won you at a carnival he’d brought you to when he was home. 

in your head, he was overprotective because he secretly wanted you back. 

of course he didn’t, but god, the fantasy of it. and sometimes you’d playfully pretend that you’d met a boy when taking your half brother out for a stroll in his pram, and he’d get all grumpy and huffy and finally get fed up and use your first name instead of his usual endearments, the syllables a growl through the phone. 

that was all it ever took to make you cum. 

he seemed to take an issue with your clothes too, the old fashioned sod. 

you’d included pictures of yourself in your letters when he whined about not getting any drawings of you, he had ones of everyone in the family, he wanted to keep you close too. 

for a long time you’d been breathless with an idea, to send him a picture of you wearing nothing at all. 

you didn’t of course. that would have been stupid, and reckless besides. but. 

well. 

admittedly, the skirt you’d chosen to wear in the picture you sent was a little short. the shirt a little tight. you told yourself it wasn’t like you were doing anything inappropriate. he’d never know the difference, and it wasn’t something you wouldn’t wear in front of anyone else. 

but he was grumpy and growly the next time you got him on the phone. told you flat out he didn’t want you dressing like that without him home to keep the wrong kind of man from looking at you. 

“Kyle-"

“Don’t even start,” he warned. “Don’t ‘but Kyle’ me with that sweet and innocent little voice, you know I’m right. I’m just looking out for you, love. Don’t you want to let your big brother do his job?” 

you sighed, pretending to be put out, even as you shuddered, your pillow stuffed between your shaking thighs. it took effort to keep your voice and breathing even as your hips bucked. “I guess. Just. Do you think I dress…” 

the word died on your tongue. you couldn’t ask him that. what if he said yes? 

“I think…” he said slowly, his voice a warm rumble. you imagined him lounging back on a narrow bed, frowning and wishing he were home. with you. “That I want my baby sister to be careful. That so wrong of a thing to want?” 

“No,” you whispered. “I’m sorry Kyle. I won’t wear it again.” 

“Good girl.” 

you came. 

so hard and sudden you couldn’t quite stifle the sound that came out of you in time. you froze, heart pounding. 

but Kyle must not have heard. thank god. 

he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice as he said, “Now tell me. Have you finally decided to go to art school?” 

that was another way he looked out for you. Kyle was your biggest cheerleader about your art. he kept telling you that you should go to school, to take the leap and send your portfolio in as an application for the program you’d been eyeing for years. 

and you wanted to, more than anything. 

but every time you even tried to broach the subject with your mum she gave you that wounded look that always had you backing down immediately, or when you tried to push it further she snapped at you to stop being selfish, that you’d go after she got things settled at work, when your step father wasn’t as busy. when your little half brother was a little older. 

and you wanted to believe her. 

a few years ago you might have. 

but it was getting hard to ignore that you were treated less and less like a daughter and more and more like a live in servant by your mother. maid, cook, nanny, now gardener. 

your stepfather had maintained a large and deliberate distance from you that after the first months with Kyle also in the house, a distance you hadn’t tried to broach. frankly you didn’t have the time or energy to try and get to know your 'father' as your mum insisted on calling him, not when every ounce of energy and attention and happiness you had left at the end of a long week went to Kyle. 

it went mostly to hiding the reality of your situation from Kyle when he wasn’t deployed, and was staying an hour away in London but still making the weekly (or really three times a week) trek out to the house you lived in with your mum, stepfather and half brother to take you out to lunch. 

most weeks it was the only time you got a break, because it was strangely the one thing about you your step father seemed to have an interest in. the one thing he put his proverbial foot down with your mother about, insisting that no matter what, when Kyle came to see you, you were to see him, unbothered and unharassed for however long he was there. and what was stranger, your mum listened to him.

she let you.

you couldn’t make heads or tails out of the whole thing, but frankly you were too tired and stressed to even try. 

especially as Kyle began to look calculating and suspicious when you started falling asleep at the table over your shared meals, and you were starting to think he was no longer buying your excuses of it being due to staying up too late binge watching Bridgerton or Parks and Rec or whatever else came to mind. 

you didn’t know what else to do. you’d tried again and again to bring it all up with your mum, to get some clarity on when exactly she’d feel settled enough to do what she promised and at least take over care of your half brother. he was two, now, surely things were as settled as they were going to get, right?

but the last time you’d tried she’d screamed at you, and her tantrum wound up waking the baby, and it was you who had to soothe him back to sleep. 

and in the end, nothing ever changed as time went on. 

two, almost three years had passed since your mother had told you about the engagement, and the further distance from it you got the sharper the clarity with which you saw the situation around you.

you felt oddly like you were watching your life pass you by. living on the outskirts of real existence, like all you could do was put your hand against the thick glass that separated you from everyone else in an attempt to pretend you were among them. and no matter how loud you screamed, they never heard you. they never saw you. 

the stress of lying to Kyle about it all was what broke you in the end. you’d increasingly found yourself jittery and on edge around your mum, prone to distraction during conversation, and unpredictable bouts of anxiety so fierce you couldn’t breathe. and tired, so bone deep tired that you cried at the drop of a hat, at the simplest of inconveniences. 

you wanted it to stop. you wanted out. you loved your mum and of course your half brother was sweet and adorable but he wasn’t yours. neither was the cat, or the flowers, or the house, not even your room. the only things that were yours were the things Kyle had given you. 

but you didn’t see a way out. 

unless. 

the next time you called and Kyle answered, you hesitated after your usual greeting, cuddling your stuffed bear to your chest. 

exhaustion crusted your eyes, your entire body ached, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been able to scrape together enough time to shower, and you were catching a cold. 

miserable. 

that was what you were. 

“Sweetheart.” Kyle’s voice was soft. “What’s going on with you lately? I feel like I’m putting you to sleep when we talk.”

you were quick to reassure him, your heart aching at the thought that he thought you could ever be bored with him. “It’s not you, I promise. I’m just really…tired lately.” 

he paused. “Why’s that, lovie?” 

you swallowed. if you did this, if you complained and laid it all bare before him, he might be disgusted with your ingratitude. might be angry with you. might hate you. and once you told him, there’d be no going back. 

“You can tell me anything,” he reminded you, voice warm, drawing you toward the comfort of the memory of his touch rather than the cold clutter of your room and your swirling anxieties. “Who can you go to if not your big brother?” 

taking a deep, shaking breath, you finally admitted, “I don’t think I can do this any more.” 

for a second, he didn’t speak. when he did, his voice was calm, but there was a thread of steel in it, a note of darkness you’d never heard before. “Why don’t you tell me what that means, sweetheart, before you make me panic.” 

you laid it out for him in halting, backtracking sentences. forgetting parts and having to go back and add in context as you finally told him what was really going on. 

he was quiet, hardly even seeming to breathe. by the time you’d finished you’d worked yourself up into a real crying fit. 

you clung to the bear in your arms, the phone pressed hard against your ear. 

before you could unleash a glut of apologies, beg him to forget it, to forgive you, to still care about you, he said in a voice you’d never heard him use before, “I’ll be there in forty minutes. Possibly with Ghost and Soap. Maybe even the captain. We’ll get your things tonight. You’re coming home with me.” 

you were dreaming. 

that was the explanation, right? 

you had to be dreaming. 

you’d fallen asleep and now we’re getting to live out the desperate wish for your big brother to come to your rescue like your own personal white knight. 

“Tell me you understand, sis.” 

your mouth worked. nothing came out for a minute. “Do you mean it?” your voice was fragile. you felt like everything stopped as you waited for his answer. 

“Of course I fucking mean it. You should’ve told me this ages ago, lovie. I’m raging that you’ve been living like this and kept it a secret from me. You lied to me.” 

a sob broke free of your chest, pain lancing through you, brittle sharp. having him be angry at you hurt worse than you’d feared. 

he sighed, hissed through his teeth, and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. when he spoke next, his voice was soft again. “Sweetheart. It’s my job to take care of you. What did we agree on back when we first met?” 

through your tears, you answered dutifully, “That I’d always do what you told me to.” 

“That’s right. And haven’t I told you to always be honest with me?” 

“Yes.”

“Alright then. I’m still coming to get you, baby. I just want you to think about this, about how you’ve made me worry about you because you lied to your big brother when I could’ve protected you all this time. Fell in love with your pretty face right when I first met you, lovie, think I would’ve let you stay in that house with those vultures if you’d told me the truth?” 

your heart raced. 

he didn’t mean love like that. he didn’t. he couldn’t. you knew that. 

scrambling for something to say, you tried to protest, “But your father-” 

“Fuck my father,” he snapped. “The captain is my father. The man in that house with you is nothing but a sperm donor, he couldn’t teach me anything about how to be a man or a husband or a parent. Is that why you didn’t tell me all this time? You didn’t think I’d believe you?” 

you nodded miserably, and realizing he couldn’t see you, you admitted wetly, “I didn’t want you to hate me. Or think I was useless or ungrateful or-” 

“That is enough of that,” he said, and you heard him take several deep, measured breaths. hearing him, you automatically matched it, managing to calm your own growing panic. “I never want you to even think those words in connection to yourself again. Hear me, sis?” 

quietly, you agreed. 

“We will be talking more about that later. Count on it. Now. Can you be ready to leave in forty minutes?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

_-_ 

in the end, you didn’t have much to pack. your stuffed animals from Kyle, your art and supplies (also from Kyle), and some clothes. 

when your mum realized what you were doing as she caught you trying to collect a suitcase from the hall closet, she broke down into hysterics. she was sobbing and screaming, accusations flying, along with threats and vile, vicious words even as she kept looking at you with that pitying expression like she just didn’t know where she’d gone wrong with you. 

Kyle showed up early, but you didn’t even hear him come in from your position still cornered against the open closet door, biting your lower lip so hard you were afraid you’d bite clean through it, tears streaming down your face as you cringed away from your mother’s flailing hands. 

neither of you even realized he was there until the front door slammed shut. 

your mum’s mouth clicked closed as she spun to face him, and you took one look at him, standing there with his brow furrowed, jaw set, hands in loosely curled fists at his sides, and had to cover your mouth to keep your sudden moan inside. 

“Lovie,” he said, voice cold, eyes never leaving your mother. “Come out from there.” 

moving on shaky feet, you edged around your mother, squeezing past her, avoiding her gaze, avoiding even coming close to touching her. as you did, you noticed your stepfather standing frozen at the other end of the room. eyes fixed on Kyle. 

you wondered how long he’d been there. what was going through his mind. why he was looking at Kyle like a man who'd wandered into the cave of a hibernating bear. 

the tight band of panic that had been looped around your chest as she’d screamed finally loosened when your mother was no longer looming over you, her hands within arms reach of your face and upper arms, and you nearly tripped in your haste to get to Kyle. 

he had a hand out, reaching for you, and you took his huge, warm hand in both of yours, shivering as he pulled you in close enough you could bury your face in his hoodie. 

every part of him was so warm. 

“Did you manage to get anything packed?” he asked, softly. his body radiated tightly controlled fury, his hand slipping around your waist to splay over your lower back, pulling you in even tighter. 

it felt so fucking good to have him touch you again, so good you nearly forgot to answer him. “My art,” you croaked. “The stuffed animals.” 

he hummed. “That’s enough for now, then. I’ll get you out of here and let the captain and the others collect the rest of your things.” 

your mother’s voice lashed out like a whip. “Everything she has I bought her, everything in that room came from me and it stays here just like she will! I will not let her behave like an ungrateful brat throwing this ridiculous tantrum, I am her mother, you aren’t even-”

“Enough.” 

strangely, that was your stepfather’s voice. not Kyle’s like you expected. 

turning just enough you could catch a glimpse of the room, you saw that your stepfather had crossed over to your mother, but his gaze was still trained on Kyle as he laid a soft hand on her tensed shoulder. “Let her go. It’s not worth it.” 

Kyle gently pulled free the hand you were clinging to with both of yours, his broad palm cupping the back of your head and turning it so your face was buried back in his hoodie again. his hand stayed a heavy weight, on your neck and on the back of your head, keeping you there, his other hand on your lower back spreading out a little wider, fingers pressing in a little harder. 

heat flushed through your body, your mind spinning. all you could smell was that forest and sunshine scent tinged with darkness. all you could feel was him, warm and big with his muscles wound tight like hot steel against you, bigger body curled around you protectively. 

“If she goes,” your mother hissed, “she’s not my daughter anymore. She can never come back.” 

Kyle laughed, the sound cold, nothing like the kind you drew out of him with bad puns or your shared inside jokes. “And she never will. But don’t worry. You can keep everything that I didn’t personally pay for.” 

your face burned hot, the slow threatening purr of his voice making your insides coil tight as you listened, your nipples tightening in your shirt, and your pussy heat. you loved it when he got like this. protective. caring. concerned. 

angry. 

not at you, never at you. 

but angry on your behalf. 

how many times had you fantasized about him doing exactly this? coming to your rescue, your own personal white knight, sweeping you off your feet and- 

wait he was actually sweeping you off your feet. your wide eyes peeked over his shoulder as he swung you into his arms, just in time to see the door open and three men (big, military, one with a mohawk, one with a beard and one wearing a black balaclava) file inside with all the confidence in the world. 

Kyle turned, and you were left staring over his shoulder as he wordlessly walked out of the house. the man with the beard and the man with the mohawk followed you, and you put names to faces. 

Captain Price, Johnny, and the one in the balaclava who'd stayed inside would be Simon. 

a surreal sort of air clung to the space around you as Kyle opened up his car door and gently placed you in the front seat. you watched him buckle you in, blinking up at him. 

“We’re getting out of here,” Kyle said, and you weren’t sure at first if he was talking to you until his voice softened and he met your eyes a moment, patting your hands sitting loosely in your lap and he said, “watch your fingers, baby,” before he shut the car door. 

the sound of conversation was quiet, and muffled further by the car door. you could hear snatches and bits, you thought maybe what was the captain agreeing to collect your things, and drop them off later. and Johnny said something after that that made the captain reach over and slap him upside the back of his head. 

Johnny had an extremely thick accent, and the words had been quiet enough, muffled enough, that you could be wrong. it could totally just be wishful thinking brought on by stress and horniness and shock and sleeplessness. 

but you could’ve sworn that Johnny’d called you Kyle’s girlfriend. not his stepsister. 

his girlfriend. 

it echoed in your head as Kyle got into the drivers seat and started the car. 

the drive to Kyle’s flat passed quickly. you were so exhausted that all it took was one stern order for you to lay your ‘pretty head down and get some rest’ and you were out like a light. you didn’t rouse until you found yourself being set down on the cold countertop of a bathroom sink. 

confused, still mostly asleep, you sunk your nails into Kyle’s hoodie, trying to hang on, a pitiful querulous noise escaping you as you tried to force yourself more awake. 

“Shh, lovie,” he murmured. “Just want to run a bath for ya.” 

after a moment’s debate you decided to not be angry with his presumption. with the insinuation. he was just taking care of you. simple as that. 

the bath was a bit of a blur, but you were bitterly disappointed when Kyle deliberately turned his back to let you get undressed and into the tub on your own. when he turned back he told you sternly not to pout, that’d he'd do the hard parts. 

he washed your hair for you, lulling you back to sleep with his hands in your hair massaging your scalp. some indeterminable amount of time later, he roused you with a kiss to your cheek and told you it was time to get out. 

like a gentleman, he kept his eyes averted as you got out and he wrapped you up in a huge towel that smelled like him. 

“Alright,” he said, frowning slightly. “We don’t have any of your clothes here, so-” 

“Can I wear yours?” the words left your mouth without thought, hope flaring bright at being so surrounded by him. you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, but maybe you could have this. 

Kyle lifted a brow. “I dunno, they may not fit well, sis. Your big bro’s got more’n a few inches on you.” 

a shiver chased down your spine, and you swallowed, shrugging to try and play it off as you squeezed your legs together. “So I’ll just wear a shirt tonight.” 

“You’ll be freezing,” he said dryly. “The heating in my condo is off until October.” 

the pout on your face deepened, and you turned it up to him, pleading softly, “I’ll be under the covers. Please? I won’t get cold. Promise.” 

Kyle’s mouth curved, his eyes warm and soft. with one hand he reached out and cupped your cheek. you leaned into it, humming, eyes slipping closed in pleasure. 

“You're gonna be the death of me, love, know that?” he sighed, but the words were so unbelievably fond you didn’t pay them any mind. three years with him as your brother had taught you to read him. he wasn’t worried or upset with you in the slightest. he was happy you were here. 

forcing your eyes open you looked up at him, trying to press his hand between your cheek and your shoulder, greedy for every bit of touch you could get. in the back of your head you wondered again if Johnny’d really called you Kyle’s girlfriend. “I’m tired, Kyle. I just wanna sleep.” 

his smile faltered and a crease appeared between his brows. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry. C’mon, lets get you settled.” 

just like he had been all night, he carried you into his bedroom, still wrapped practically head to toe in the towel. you tucked your face against his collarbone and giggled. “You’re spoiling me. What if I forget how to walk?” 

the smirk in his voice made your pussy clench. “I’ve survived worse than carrying my little sister around. I just consider it part of my big brother duties.” 

he set you down on the bed, and then rifled through his dresser drawers, muttering to himself. you took the opportunity to look around his bedroom, burning with curiosity. you’d never been inside, but you’d fantasized about being here so much. 

it was warmer than you’d thought it would be, or maybe cozier was the better word. it was a little chilly actually. an idea started to form in your head as Kyle turned around and offered a henley. 

“How about this? I think all of my hoodies are dirty right now, I actually don’t own that many clothes-”

you nodded, sneaking an arm out from the towel to take the henley. “No, no this is perfect, I love it.” 

the fabric was soft, cool to the touch under your fingers. 

Kyle snorted. “It’s a henley, lovie, not another stuffed bear, you don’t have to flatter me.” 

frowning, you shook your head, cuddling the shirt close. “No, I do love it. It’s my brother’s, why wouldn’t I love it?” 

something flashed in his eyes, and he opened his mouth, but then shook his head, and it was only when he relaxed and fell back a step that you realized he’d advanced much closer to you than you’d noticed. 

“Ok, I’m gonna turn around and let you get dressed.” 

he did exactly that. heat flushed your face. you were much more conscious this time about being naked in front of him, even if he (unfortunately) wasn’t looking. slowly you drew the towel off, letting it fall to the floor. 

electricity and need ran wild in your skin, and for a moment you almost wanted to call his name. make him turn, see you sitting naked and wet on his bed. 

shaking your head, you tugged the henley on over your head, trying to shove that thought away. but in the back of your head, you thought about what Johnny could’ve said. what if he had said it? why would he have called you that? 

was that what Kyle called you? 

you glanced at the neat pile of your dirty clothes now in Kyle’s hamper in the corner. your panties were in there. Kyle hadn’t offered you anything else. the henley came down to your midthighs so you didn’t technically need anything, but…

but if you were to bend over, or reach above your head, he’d be able to see. to see everything. 

carefully you got off of the edge of his bed before you left a visible wet spot there. Clearing your throat, you nervously tucked your hair behind your ears, prompting him to turn around. “Well?” you asked, holding your arms out, sharply aware of the hem of the shirt lifting, cool air wrapping around your thighs. “What do you think?” 

Kyle rubbed his mouth. His dark eyes dragged over you from your head down to your feet, and then back up, slow and deliberate. in the wake of his gaze you were left breathless, clit aching. the insides of your thighs were growing heated. 

“I think,” he said, and it couldn’t just be your imagination that his voice was deeper than usual. “That you look better in it than I do, sis.” 

your body burned, and you tried desperately to think of something to say to have him replace his eyes with his hands. 

he glanced at his watch, and then pointed meaningfully to the bed. “C’mon. I’ve kept you up late and you look like you haven’t slept in years. Bed time, love.” 

gathering your courage, you said, “You get in first. I don’t care which side I get.” 

Kyle looked like he’d been angling his body to leave, only to freeze now, blinking at you in confusion. “...what?” 

motioning to the bed, you said evenly, “Well we’re sharing the bed, aren’t we? You said you just had a one bedroom since the other one became your office.” 

“Yes,” he replied slowly. “But I can’t make you share a bed with me, sis, I’ll just go sleep on the couch-” 

firmly, much more firmly than you’d ever dared speak to him before, you dared to argue. “No.” 

he froze, eyes a little wide, eyebrows lowered like he was struggling to recognize you. 

this is your chance. take it. 

stepping closer to him, you caught his hand, tugging him towards the bed. “You’ve done so much for me. Not just tonight, but since you met me. And I’m not going to make you sleep on a couch in your own home. So either we both sleep in it, or I take the couch.” 

in an instant he was scowling. “Over my dead body will you sleep on any couch, baby.” 

you had him. you swallowed your smile, heat rushing into your pelvis. he was spoiling you tonight, calling you baby like this. like he couldn't help it. he hardly ever used that endearment with you. you wanted more. 

“So I guess we’re sharing the bed,” you said patiently, smiling at him. “Pick your side.” 

of course it wasn’t quite that simple. Kyle grumbled and protested and tried to insist on taking the couch, but you stood firm, unmovable. it wasn’t until you turned big, teary eyes on him and asked why he couldn’t share with his sister that he gave in. 

he put you in the bed first, but you were glad you were laying down as you watched him strip out of his day clothes, still grumbling and worrying, muttering to himself as he moved through his room like a lion prowling its enclosure. 

Kyle was grace and strength and power in a perfectly controlled package, his skin rich and luxurious, marred occasionally by a scar or decorated with a tattoo. you’d long since catalogued all of them in your sketchbooks, or at least all of the ones you’d seen, but you never got tired of looking. 

distracted from your gawking, and the heat crawling over your body and clouding your head, Kyle climbed under the covers, still grumbling. 

for now you kept your back to him, and since he couldn’t see it you smiled, smug and victorious. you’d never really had the opportunity to be spoiled before Kyle, but you imagined that it was something like this. always getting your way, even when you shouldn’t. and it was so good. 

you made your body relax, stay still, kept your breathing as even and slow as possible, not wanting Kyle to know how every nerve in your body was alive, your pussy drenched between your thighs. 

when the grumbling had stopped, you started shifting restlessly on the bed. just a little, at first. then slowly more and more noticeable, drawing his attention. demanding it, luring him in to the trap you were setting. 

“Lovie,” Kyle groaned through his teeth. “Why’re you moving around over there like you’re running a race?” 

fuck, he sounded so sexy when he was irritated. 

you shifted again, one last time before you hurriedly stilled and then replied, quietly, “M’fine, sorry.” 

a soft sigh, almost a hiss, and he moved, rising like a wave, one of his fists bracing on the other side of your body so he could stare down at you, frowning as he loomed, huge and undeniable. “Baby. I’m not gonna tell you again. We’re turning over a new leaf here, sis. You’re gonna tell your big brother everything, and you’re never gonna lie to me again, not even by omission. So don't tell me it's nothing or that you're fine. Tell me why you can’t sleep.” 

you turned over a little, squeezing your legs together, fighting the urge to slip a hand under the covers. licking your lips, you worked up the courage to plant the lie you’d decided on, to bait the trap for what you really wanted. “...I’m cold.” 

this time the groan that came out of Kyle was guttural, his head dropping down to rest against your collarbone, your nipples tightening in response to his sheer nearness, and your breath catching. 

“I told you that-” he shook his head, giving up. “Fuck it.” 

he flopped back down beside you, much nearer this time, and both of his muscular arms looped around your body, hauling you in close, tight enough against his chest you could feel every breath against your back. and he was warm, like he’d been laying in the sun and not the cold dreary evening weather in London. 

“Is that better, sis?” he asked. 

better? It was heaven. 

your clit throbbed, and you had to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. your heart was racing and you hoped he couldn’t feel it. his hands were in appropriate places on your stomach but you couldn’t help but think how close they were to your tits, to your pussy, how close his cock was. 

“It’s good,” you eventually managed. 

against the back of your neck, you felt him grin. “Good girl.” 

your eyes rolled back, and you twisted your fingers in the sheets and bit your lower lip hard to keep quiet. 

blissfully ignorant, Kyle just insisted gruffly, “Now sleep, alright?” 

all you could manage was a single, breathy sound that you hoped would convey something approaching agreement. 

you laid there, perfectly still, waiting. waiting. 

eventually his body relaxed even further, arms pulling you in closer as he dropped into sleep. 

it made you tremble, trying not to whimper at the feeling of his body pressing so tight against your own. he was so big, so warm, so fucking hot. 

and if you don’t have a mother anymore, some desperate, lilting voice in your head whispered, then you don’t technically have a stepbrother. right?  

your hips shifted, slow and cautious against Kyle, holding your breath. but he didn’t stir. 

he’s always been a heavy sleeper, he told you that. you can do whatever you want now. 

the thought made you dizzy. 

you wouldn’t touch him, not in his sleep of course, and you’d never have the courage to do it when he was awake, but maybe…maybe like this you could pretend. 

it would be the closest you’d ever be to the real thing, to actually having him inside you. 

you could pretend, it would be so close to the real thing. you knew how to be quiet, and quick, you’d gotten herself off in a scant few minutes just as routine before. 

you could. you could you could you could - 

for a moment you hung there, breathless, waiting for…something. a bolt of lighting to strike you as punishment for wanting to imagine your stepbrother was getting you off with his big, tough hands on your tender little virgin pussy. for Kyle to snap out of sleep and shove you off the bed, hissing angrily at you…

but he never would. 

he never could. 

he was the best big brother a girl could ask for. 

that thought was what had you slipping your hand below the hem of his borrowed shirt. you were dripping around your own fingers, the smallest little sound pressed out of your chest as you brushed your clit. 

he was so warm and so close, that forest and fresh air scent tinged with something dark clinging to the insides of your lungs, wrapping your head in a fog as you shifted to give yourself room to work. 

and as you did, your hips began to grind. ever so gently, slowly, barely noticeable, against Kyle’s hips. not enough to wake him, not enough for him to notice, just for you to pretend. 

having him this close already had you on edge, and you were dangling on the precipice, remembering feverishly how he’d looked coming to your rescue, pulling you into his chest, how he’d called you good girl on the phone that once- 

in his sleep Kyle groaned, and turned. a gasp got caught in your mouth as he rolled slightly, covering your body with more of his, pinning the hand you had between your thighs awkwardly to the mattress, cutting you off right before you could cum. 

you lay there a second, panting quietly, trying to think around the wild thought of how good he felt weighing you down, before he shifted in his sleep, and you felt it. 

he was hard. 

you whimpered, too loud, but you couldn’t fucking help it. the cock you’d literally been dreaming of for so long now was right there, tucked against the curve of your ass as he started rocking against you in his sleep, your stepbrother was having a wet fucking dream while holding you against his body- 

you didn’t even have to move your fingers. you came, hard and unexpected, shuddering and shaking beneath him. your thighs shook, and his hips never stopped rolling, lazy, half-coordinated thrusts of his seeking hips, unconsciously trying to find the hot, slick hole you wanted nothing more than for him to take. 

thinking was gone, out the window, out of the realm of possibilities. you didn’t need to think, you needed your brother to shove that thick length deep and make you cum on it. 

but even as that wishful thought formed, you felt him shift, the face he had pressed against your neck compressing, frowning. 

he was waking up. 

so this is fight, flight, or freeze, you thought stupidly as Kyle lifted his head, grunting sleepily, hips still grinding down. 

“Wha-” a sharp inhale, his hands bruise tight on your ribcage. “Fuck, fuck-” 

the second he tried to move away a sharp, pathetic whine pressed out of you. 

he froze. 

you could feel his heart thundering in his chest. or maybe that was just your own, your blood roaring loud enough in your ears to drown out any sane thought about what a bad idea this was. 

“...love,” he whispered. “You’re…fuck. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to.” 

“It’s alright,” you said, breathless. your thighs were still trembling. and suddenly just getting off the once wasn’t enough. it never could have been enough. “I…I don’t mind.” 

Kyle paused, and your eyes nearly rolled back as your pussy throbbed at the weight of his gaze, his attention, so fully and completely on you. 

“You…what? What does that mean?” 

now or never. right? 

he wouldn’t be angry at you. not Kyle. he’d just tell you that it was alright, but it couldn’t happen, and to go back to sleep. and that would be the end of it. 

you turned your head, meeting his pinched gaze. 

and very deliberately, you lifted your hips, pressing your ass against his still hard dick. 

greedily you watched the flare of heat in his eyes, a small sound escaping you as his hands reflexively tightened on your body. 

“B-baby…” he said warningly, “I don’t think you know what you’re doing.” 

nodding, your cheek sliding against his pillowcase, you kept rubbing against his cock, your hands tight around his wrists in an effort to ensure he couldn’t leave. “I do,” you whispered. “I promise.” 

he groaned, and the sound rattled through your body right to your clit. he looked like a god, bathed in the moonlight pouring in from his bedroom window. 

“Lovie, this is-” 

“It’s alright,” you promised, trying to grind against him the way you’d seen in porn. “Please don’t leave, please stay.” 

another sound, frustrated, but almost like a moan poured from his mouth, making your body tingle. “Baby, I can’t, this isn’t-” 

“Please,” you begged, tears gathering in your eyes at the thought of him pulling away from you now. 

he stopped moving, eyes burning through your body. 

“Stay. It’s not weird,” you promised sweetly. “It’s not, we’re not really siblings.” 

his eyebrows snapped together. “Yes we fucking are. I’m your goddamn big brother.” 

those words, his dark tone, the feeling of his cock slotted between your ass cheeks, it was too much to bear. 

you moaned. 

way too loud, your eyes rolling back as your pussy clenched around nothing. 

god, why did it have to turn you on that he was your big brother? 

“Oh, fuck,” Kyle cursed, something you’d never heard before in his voice. Or maybe…maybe something you’d heard hints of, but never this strong. never unleashed. something that matched the dark tinge to his cologne that haunted your dreams and fantasies. “Fucking Christ, baby.” 

him calling you that only made you wetter, like always. 

“If I put my hand between those thighs that pussy would be wet. Wouldn’t it?” 

shock made you squeak, and then the following arousal hit you like you’d run into a goddamn wall when you’d processed what he’d actually fucking said. 

“She’s crying for me, isn’t she lovie?” he growled, voice lower, darker, and he slowly lowered his body back onto yours, cock throbbing behind the thin fabric of his boxers, the head of his cock pressed up against your asshole. “Let’s see f'I’m right, hm?” 

before you could think he’d slipped a hand beneath you, right between your thighs, cupping your whole sex in his palm like he’d done it a million times before. 

you sobbed, sparks dancing behind your eyelids, hips bucking weakly against his hand, trying to get some friction. 

“God, I fucking knew it,” he grunted, squeezing a little, then drawing his hand back and spanking your cunt, making you cry out. “Shit, my little sister’s got a wet fucking pussy because I called myself her big brother, is that right pretty girl?” 

what else could you do but be honest? Your head bobbed, some slutty babble bubbling out of you, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say, maybe just his name or ‘please’ or even ‘thank you’. 

since the day you’d met him your body had belonged to him. you wanted him to take it. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, and shoved his hips forward, forcing you to grind against the heel of his hand as his fingers traced your hole. it caught you so off guard you nearly choked on your own moan, body jolting against his. “Think I didn't hear you on the phone, moaning like my personal goddamn dreams come to life when I told you not to dress like that where other blokes could see you? Think I didn't know you were getting off on your big brother telling you to keep this pussy locked up tight for him? Think I wasn't fucking my hand listing to you whine and moan like that on the phone with me?"

he'd known? all this time, he'd known? "Ky-Kyle-"

"You've been torturing me with it," he accused, his hand squeezing tight, grinding his cock against your ass when you jolted as he brushed your clit just right, light flashing behind your eyes at the sensation. "It's been torture listening to you cum again and again just from me telling you what to do, trying to hide it from me. Torture, haven't I been good to you? Aren't you gonna apologize for torturing me, baby?"

guilt and pleasure swirled inside of you, and mindless with the need to keep his hands on your body and comfort him to draw out that hurt tone in his words, you rushed to say, "M'sorry, Kyle."

"Nah," he grunted, spanking your pussy again and kissing the crest of your ear as you sobbed, "Say it sweeter, need a bigger apology than that, don't I deserve it?"

"M' sorry," you cried, your hands around his wrist, hips twitching, not sure if you wanted more of that spanking or less. "M'so sorry, didn't mean to be mean to my big brother, m'sorry, m'sorry!"

he shushed you sweetly, kissing your ear again, his hand now gentle as he cupped your pussy, squeezing it like it belonged to him.

didn't it?

"Thank you," he said warmly directly in your ear. his fingers traced your slick folds, the sounds making your face heat. "That's a sweet apology, baby. But I want you to make it up to me. Can you do that? Won't you make all that teasing up to your big brother?"

you tried to answer but his fingers circled your clit and all you could manage was a broken half syllable.

"Say yes," he whispered. "Say you'll make it up to me, however I want."

through the shake in your hands, in your thighs, pussy pulsing against his hand you nodded fervently. "Yes, please, wanna make it up to you, whatever you want, please!"

"Shit, that’s what I fucking thought.” 

in a flash you were on your back, staring up at him. your arms were pinned above your head by one of his hands, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip even as your pussy clenched on nothing. he looked like a man gone mad, pushed too far beyond all reason. he looked starving. and you were the main course. 

“I’m your big brother,” he repeated, making your knees tighten around his hips, “but that’s not all you want me to be, is it baby? You want me to act like your boyfriend too, don’t you?” 

fuck, fuck, fuck! 

“Yes, yes, fuck, please, Kyle, want you to be both, I need it.” the words burst out of you without running through your head for approval first. 

it made him smile, slightly mean at the corners. “D’you know why you want that, sweetheart?” 

you shook your head. 

he leaned down, catching your mouth in a kiss. you gasped into it, too startled to even respond at first, trying hard to play catch up to the way he was devouring your mouth, licking over your teeth like he was making a point. 

“You want me to be your big brother, and you want me to be your boyfriend, because you know that only your big brother could ever take proper care of you and this sweet little pussy. No one else could take care of you like me, could make you this wet.” 

god, wasn’t that the truth. you lifted your mouth up in silent offering to him. “Only you, Kyle.” 

“Fuck.” his hands tore at the henley he’d put you in, groaning when he sat back to get a good look at you, bathed in moonlight. “God, look at that. Look at you, sweetheart, my sweet, perfect little sister, so horny for her big brother you had to ride his cock while he was sleeping, huh?”

the blush on your cheeks burned, heightened by Kyle’s wicked smile, by his hands cupping your breasts, squeezing hard, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Such pretty tits, baby. And that sweet little pussy, fuck.” his gaze snapped back to your face, suddenly hard, fingers squeezing tight enough to make you squeal. “No one else has ever seen any of this, have they? You’ve been good for me and kept all of it safe, just for me, haven’t you? Haven’t you baby?” 

nodding fervently, you said, “Yes, yes, just f’you, Kyle, fuck, only wanted you to see, no one else, I promise I promise-” 

he let go of your nipples, and you slumped back against the sheets, panting, unsure if it was in relief or disappointment. 

“Good girl,” he crooned. 

your whole body quaked, another too loud moan pressed out of you from the praise. 

a shuffle of fabric had you turning your head, and you whined with need, knees twitching up to open yourself wider in silent offering as you watched him shove down his boxers, pulling out his cock. 

your jaw dropped. “That…that won’t…Kyle I can’t…it’s so big!” 

he chuckled, one hand catching your chin, lifting your face to his own. “Nah, trust me, you can take it,” he crooned, kissing you sweetly, each pass of his lips over yours a drug that pulled you deeper into the red hot need that clouded your every thought until only being good for your big brother remained. “You wanna take it, don’t you, lovie? You’ve been wanting this dick so bad, haven’t you? Been dreaming about your big brother’s cock.” 

the hand on your chin shook your face slightly, making you open your eyes to meet his hard gaze. 

“Say it, baby. Or I can't give you an inch.” 

the threat alone nearly made you cry, and you scrambled to comply. “Yes, I’ve wanted it so long, Kyle,” you said, clutching at his sides, forgetting all about your earlier hesitance. “Thought about it so much, please, please, please give it to me, I need it.” 

he hummed, fucking his tongue into your mouth in a slow, drugging kiss, his weight shifting over your body, pressing you down, down into the mattress. 

“Say ‘I need my big brother’s cock’,” he murmured against your lips. 

“I need my big brother’s cock, please!” 

he groaned, and you - you felt it, felt his cock twitch against your inner thigh. 

fuck. 

fuck. 

Kyle liked it as much as you did. how long had he liked it? had he looked at you and wanted you, the same way you’d looked and wanted him? 

you’d give it to him. every fantasy, every dream, every idle horny thought and desire. anything and everything for your big brother. 

it was like the last of your nerves vanished with that realization, and you laid back, secure in the knowledge you were about to get everything you’d ever wanted. 

“Please,” you begged prettily, watching Kyle’s eyes glimmer, feeling the teasing heat of his cock carefully evading the lifting of your hips trying to rub against him. “Please give it to me? Please, Kyle? I’ll be good, I promise, I promise.” 

the smile on his mouth made your pulse pick up. 

“There's my girl.” 

the weight of his cock finally, finally, finally settled against your cunt, and you moaned, mouth dropping open and staying open as the tip lodged right against you. he was so hot, it felt like he was burning, and you needed all of it inside you so you could burn right along with him. 

“Can feel her clenching,” Kyle grit out, and you nodded dumbly. “Shit, haven’t even made you cum proper and you’re already so pretty n' cockdrunk. Knew you’d be so perfect, lovie, so good for your big brother.” 

he shoved forward, burying half of his cock deep in one push, and you screamed, nails clawing up his sides, the stretch of pain and the friction of pleasure clattering about in your insides until you couldn’t separate the two. 

all you could see was Kyle, dark skin gleaming in the moonlight, eyes burning burning burning. all you could feel was his body, weighing you down into the mattress, stretching you so wide you feared you’d split in half, every breath either of you took causing him to rub against something that was driving you insane. 

all you could smell was him. the forest, fresh air, that tinge of darkness, thicker now, heavier. and sex. who would've known that sex had a smell, and it smelled like heaven, like taking your big brother’s cock for the first time. 

vaguely you were aware that you were saying something, or trying to at least. maybe asking for more, begging him to go easy, to take it slow, to let you adjust. 

he leaned down, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you close. he kissed your cheek sweetly. “S’alright, baby, you can take it. Be good for your big brother, hm? Be good, and take this-” 

without warning he pulled his hips back and shoved forward again, burying himself balls deep. you screamed loud and shrill, your vision whiting out, all thought utterly vanishing into basic words like: 

big. 

hot. 

fuck. 

“Fuck, there's my girl,” Kyle moaned, his hips starting to roll, not giving you a second to adjust. “There's my fucking girl, fuck, you took that so good, sweetheart, take it so good when your brother fucks you, you were made for this, weren’t you? Hm? Is that it? Is that what you wanted?” 

yes, yes, yes, that was what you wanted, all you’d ever wanted, even if it hurt, you wanted it to hurt, wanted to feel it, to have to feel it the next day, the next week, to remember who’d done it to you, every moment of every day. 

tears were running down your cheeks, and you only knew because Kyle told you. 

“Look so sweet crying on my cock, so pretty, that’s a girl, that’s a girl, fucking cry for me, can feel that hot little virgin cunt fucking clenching, she’s ready to fucking cum, there's a good girl, my good fucking girl, perfect baby sister, love you so fucking much, god!"  

you were close, you were so close, you would’ve already cum but you wanted to hear Kyle, hanging on to every syllable, writhing against him on his cock as he forced you to take every fat inch, like he was carving a path through your insides just for his cock, a space no one else could ever possibly hope to fill. 

a space he’d never let anyone else even try to. 

and those hot words kept falling from his mouth, driving you higher and higher. “Such a good girl, such a good fucking girl. Saved this perfect fucking pussy all for me, waited until I got you alone so you could ride it like a good fucking girl, god, wanted this so fucking much, no idea, no fucking idea.” 

he turned his head, sucking a mark on your throat, thrusts growing harder, rougher, your eyes rolling back in your head, a faint roar building in your ears. 

“Thank me,” he growled, demanding. “Thank me for it, baby, be a good girl and say fucking thank you.” 

“Thank you,” you cried obediently, barely hanging on, hardly able to think, just doing what he told you to, just like always, and wasn’t that a fucking relief. “Thank you, thank you thank you, such a good big brother, love you so much, feels so good, Kyle!” 

he was pounding your cunt, hard enough that all you could do was fucking take it, tears streaming down your face as the pleasure built too high, too hot, too fast, too much. you couldn’t take it, you couldn’t bear it, it was gonna break you- 

“Cum,” he ordered, almost sweet in your ear. “God, cum on your big brothers cock, make me fill you up with my cum, that’s what you fucking want, isn’t it?” 

the entire world vanished. 

the orgasm that followed his command ripped through you, blotting out breath, shutting out light and sound and scent and feel. 

your body locked, every muscle contracting, and the scream he drove out of you could’ve woken the dead. 

the last thing you felt before you passed out was Kyle’s teeth on your neck, and something hot splashing against your inner walls. 

when you came to, you almost thought it was a dream. you were clean and dry again, and redressed in Kyle’s henley. 

for a moment, you froze, devastated, panic clawing up your throat. surely you hadn't just dreamed it...right? 

but then you shifted, and pain lanced up through your insides, making you hiss through your teeth and freeze. 

Kyle clicked his tongue, brow furrowed as he moved to brace himself on a fist to hover over you, his other hand softly rubbing over your side like he was quieting an animal. 

“Shh, just lay there a second, baby.” he leaned down, catching your mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. “Just relax. That was a little rough for your first time.” 

first time. 

“It…” your voice was rough, barely a croak, but you had to confirm. “It really happened? I didn’t dream it?” 

Kyle’s face softened, lovewarm and sweet. “Nah, lovie. Not a dream. Not this time.” 

fresh tears, this time of relief, pricked your eyes, your fingers pulling at his sides. “Thank god.” 

he chuckled, moving slowly, covering your body and pressing you back into the mattress. 

strangely, you felt like you could only breathe properly again when he was completely on top of you, like the world’s best weighted blanket. 

“You did so good for me,” Kyle praised, kissing your preening smile. “So pretty, sis. I’m gonna let you get a little rest, but then I’m gonna have you drink some water and eat something, alright?” 

you pouted, jutting out your lower lip at him. “No. Wanna sleep.” 

chuckling, he kissed your forehead, his hands squeezing your hips, your waist, your ribcage, massaging the sore muscles. “You’re gonna be good and do what I tell you. Won’t you?” 

“Yes, Kyle.” 

you always would. 

“Good girl.” he nudged your noses together. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised quietly into the dark of the night. “Exactly like a big brother should.”  

you shivered, grinning hard against his mouth. your hands rubbed clumsily, almost drunkenly over his broad shoulders. "Did Soap call me your girlfriend?"

Kyle froze.

frowning, you turned your head, only to catch him with the guiltiest face you'd ever seen.

"Well," he said slowly. you'd swear he was blushing. "Um. Y'see..."

you just laughed, drowning out his feeble excuses. you didn't even need them. icing on the perfect cake that was today. and suddenly you could feel it. a weight that had been holding you down your whole life, pinning you in place, freezing you in time, locked in a standstill watching as life happened around you and not to you, it all just...vanished.

breathing was easy, even with Kyle muttering (pouting) as he pressed you down against the mattress, his heavy body still the world's best weighted blanket. you were warmer than you'd ever been, happier than you'd ever dreamed. safer than you'd ever wanted, wanted more than you'd ever fantasized.

"What're you thinking about?" Kyle asked softly, kissing your cheek.

turning your head, you pressed your mouth to his, sleep clumsy and soft. "Love you," was all you said. "So much."

the corners of his mouth turned up against yours, and he pulled you even closer somehow. "Love you too, sweetheart. More than you know."