Thread by @murcielagoAO3

#nsfw #miyacest cw: hs miyas, fem!atsumu, oral sex

thinking about micropeen atsumu--but what if it's micro/clit/ atsumu 🤔😳

atsumu who has her own room but the walls are thin and osamu hears her coming home from dates and slamming the door. minutes later he can hear her soft

moans and panting breaths as she gets herself off.

he shakes his head. she's either insatiable, or her guy of the week's a fucktard and isn't getting the job done. both are believable, considering his sister's questionable tastes.

he knows she's having sex because she begs

him to buy condoms for her. says it's too embarrassing for a girl to do it, and she should have her own just in case.

osamu gets her allowance /and/ her share of puddings for the week every time he does her this favor. he watches her leave school on the arm of a basketball or

soccer or baseball player, and they way they're looking at her boobs and ass makes it clear what they'll be doing. so it's not that they're holding out on her, either.

why she's biting her pillow every night and humping whatever toy or cyllindrical object she's got stashed

in her room is a total mystery to him.

no way he's leaving any of his girls unsatisfied like that. when he's done with them they're so drunk on pleasure, cunts so swollen from his cock they've got no energy left to do anything but sleep it off. keeps them coming back to him over

and over.

he's doing his third year history homework when atsumu comes home from another date, stomping to her room and sequestering inside.

silence.

then the inevitable panting breaths, and a muffled groan.

osamu sighs, brows furrowing over his worried eyes. seems such a shame she's not having the same fantastic sex life he regularly enoys. he's not blaming her, exactly. girls' libidos are unpredictable at times. it takes focus and finesse to get a girl off properly.

it's probably the guy's fault for being ham-handed or pencil-dicked or just overall /inept/. not every guy bothers with their partner's pleasure, either. there are some real jerkwads out there, most of them jocks, too.

hearing her whimpering on the other side of the wall is

too pathetic. sad, even. least he can do is give her some tips to try next time with her tool of the week in hopes she can have a better experience and come home with a smile on her face for once.

but he's also not that /nice/, really. he's gotta get something out of it too.

osamu waits for her breathing to get really strained, and pads across the room into the hall to stand at her door. he knocks abruptly.

she squeals, startled. osamu grins.

"oi. ya busy?"

she replies with a string of incoherent, angry grumbles. osamu grins wider. god, she's so fun to tease.

"oiii. /oiiiiiii/," he calls, knocking repeatedly until she flings open the door, teeth bared.

"the fuck're ya doin'?" she spits.

/ohhhh/ dear, she's... so lovely like this.

cheeks flushed, blonde hair a-tangle around her shoulders, a fine glisten of sweat on her skin, tank-top askew from being hastily pulled on over her boobs to mid-thigh, nips poking into the cotton like they were made to be thumbed.

the way his mouth waters is a sudden shock.

"are ya daft, asshole? whatcha bangin' on the door about?" she seethes.

osamu shakes it off, cocking his head. "maybe i wanted to hear 'bout yer date."

her eyes go wide, mouth open in confusion. she flushes. osamu takes advantage of her momentary blip to slide by her and

sit right on the middle of her bed, smirking.

she whirls, coming towards him with fists raised. "get offa there!"

"shhhh!" he chastises, blocking with his forearms. "ya want our parents to hear?"

"get out!" she hisses.

"make me!" he hisses back, sticking out his tongue.

she fumes, glaring. then she clocks him in the shin with her knee, /hard/.

"fuck!" he cries out, cradling his leg against his chest and breathing through his teeth. "yer an animal!"

"fuck you!" she points at him. "yer tresspassin', dickface!"

osamu rolls his eyes, groaning.

"ugggh, c'mon truce? truce!" osamu snaps.

"wouldja get outta here!" she snaps back.

"wouldja just tell me 'bout yer date already!" osamu throws his hands up.

atsumu balks, then bares her teeth. "what's with ya all of the sudden? creepin' me out!"

osamu chucks a pillow at her.

"/yer/ the one bein' a creepy masturbator--i can hear ya after every date so what gives, tsumu? yer definitely gettin' yer freak on with--" he waves his hands vaguely, "--well whoever it is, so why're ya actin' all pent up? freakin' losin' my mind here!"

"shuttup!!" atsumu screeches, slamming her door closed and rounding on him, fuming and shaking and turning so red he half expects her hair to start levitating around her. "how dare ya listen in on me ya pervert!"

osamu makes a gagging face. "can't help it when you're so noisy!"

"ain't nunya business, samu!" atsumu seethes.

"well aintcha satisfied gettin' dicked down or what?" osamu huffs.

"or what!" atsumu shouts, stamping her bare foot on the rug.

osamu opens his mouth, and closes it. they look at each other. atsumu exhales, blowing hair off her

forehead and crossing her arms.

"oh," osamu says. he shrugs and she growls in frustration, retrieving her pillow from the floor.

"so now ya know and now ya can fuck right off," she mutters, whacking the pillow into shape and thwap-ing it back on the bed.

"but why? what's the problem?" osamu asks, scratching his head.

"hell if i know!" atsumu shrugs.

"all those dudes notched in yer bedpost and they can't make ya come?" osamu shakes his head, whistling.

"hey they tried hard, okay?" she swats his arm. "all my boys try real hard."

osamu scoffs, crossing his arms. "how hard is it to find yer clit, for fuck's sake?"

he meant it rhetorically, but atsumu's gaze drops to look at her nails, lips pursed.

he barks out a laugh. "wait, that's it, isn't it? they can't find it, huh? fuckin' amateurs!"

"shuttup!"

osamu holds his hands up, grinning. "right, right, they work hard."

"uggggh!" atsumu shoves him. osamu shifts down the bed and she plops down beside him.

he nudges her shoulder with his. "from what i've heard clearly yer able to find it yerself, ain't like it's missin, right?"

"fuck no!" she snaps, groaning and exasperated. "i don't get it, samu! kissin', gropin', fuckin'--feels amazin' but like somehow i can't get there, not all the way. just left..." she shrugs. "left /wantin'/."

"sounds like yer dudes are skippin' the best part--have 'em eat ya out

first, getcha a coupl'a O's before anythin' else and the rest'll be real good for ya."

"nah, doesn't do it for me," atsumu shrugs.

osamu jerks in shock. "the fuck ya mean?!"

"so i don't like 'em slobberin' down there, ok? jeez!" she retorts, face blooming hot fuchsia.

osamu continues to gape at her, so unbelievably confused--the fuck is she saying??

atsumu tsks, crossing her arms under her boobs. "stop lookin' at me like that!"

osamu shakes his head. "i don't get it."

"well get it already!" atsumu tsks again.

"i can't!" osamu protests.

"then just go!" she tries pushing him off her bed but he digs in, pushing her hands away.

"hold up, jeez!" he gruffs. "yer just confusin' me here, ain't no girl i've ever met doesn't like havin' her pussy lapped fer hours, so somethin's wrong here!"

"nothin's wrong with me!"

"then they ain't doin' it right!" osamu rolls his eyes.

"how the fuck wouldja know that?" atsumu grits her teeth.

"how the--" osamu squares to face her, dead serious. "i fuckin' /know/ 'cuz i been savorin' pussy since first year! lost count of how many girls i've had screamin'

my name when they come on my tongue, ain't no girl i can't get off with this mouth alone, aight?"

"quit yer braggin' already," atsumu scoffs.

"ain't braggin' if it's facts!" osamu snaps. "i'm tellin' ya there's no pussy out there i can't /own/. claim 'em all on the first try."

"well hate to break it to ya, but ya obviously ain't gettin' near mine, bro, so there /is/ one that's outta yer reach." atsumu rolls her eyes.

osamu snorts. "hey, i stand by my words--yer no exception, /sis/, could getcha off as easily as any other chick, no sweat. /bet/."

atsumu pulls a face. "ew, don't be gross. yer ego's gettin' outta control there."

osamu bristles. "like i said--ain't ego, just the facts. better not be implyin' i can't do better'n that string of fake studs ya been playin' around with, huh?"

"do ya even hear what yer sayin'?" atsumu's brows go up.

osamu huffs. "'s a matter of pride, tsumu, and yer challengin' it. don't like bein' challenged, ya know that."

"wasn't challengin' ya!" atsumu tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "yer just bein' crazy, samu."

crazy? yeah, maybe so. what's crazy is how fast his heart is beating, thinking about how she's never been given a real orgasm before, not like the one he could give her. he could be the first.

what's also crazy is how his stomach's gone queasy at how /wrong/ that would be.

he's not supposed to think about his sister that way. he's not supposed to get curious about her pussy, what makes it tick, what he'll have to do to unlock its secrets and have her writhing in pleasure, taking all he can give her.

maybe he can--if she wants it enough.

if he can get her hooked on the idea, or better--to ask for it, ask him to show her everything. then he's just helping her out, right? it's not so crazy if she wants it too... right?

"listen," osamu licks his lips, drawing her gaze to his mouth. "it ain't that complicated. yer sufferin' an unsatisfied, an' i got the skills to put ya over the moon. not crazy to see the solution here."

"samu...ya can't be serious?" atsumu swallows.

"toldja. point of pride."

"yer nuts! uh-unh," she shakes her head. "no way."

osamu leans closer. "don't even need to touch ya anywhere else or do anythin' else to ya. 's not even about ya, really. hasn't yer clit been neglected long enough? doesn't it deserve the royal treatment? the proper attention?"

atsumu bites her lip, tucking her legs under her on the bed. osamu's guts clench, imagining the pressure of her closed thighs squeezing against her cunt. he wants to palm her. /bad/.

"isn't it weird even talkin' 'bout this?" she asks. "are ya prankin' me? if ya are, yer /dead/."

"not a prank, tsumu," he promises. "i like eatin' pussy and yer a one-of-a-kind challenge. we both get somethin' we want. we both win here. simple as that."

"simple as that," she repeats, raising a brow. "an' if i agree yer not gonna back out part way? not gonna change yer mind

'bout gettin' nasty with yer sis?"

"nah," osamu smirks. "right now yer just a /bet/. 'm gamblin' my skills, an' i plan to /win/." he traces a finger along the hemline of her tank top where it curves across her thigh. "now. whatcha wanna do, tsumu?"

atsumu's eyes flick down to his hand and back up, pupils dilating.

osamu holds her gaze, watches her inner struggle and counts his heartbeats until the moment she comes to a decision--her lust winning out over the taboo acts they're about to commit.

his stomach flips. /gotcha./

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