Yuna stirred, a weak cough escaping her lips as warm water dribbled down her chin. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, then sharpened as she took in the state of her body, the ruined costume, the sticky sheets.
Her voice, when she spoke, was raw and hoarse, stripped of any character.
"F-fuck… you really… tried to kill me… big bro !?" She shifted, wincing as more of his cum leaked out onto the sheets.
But then, her lips curled into a tired, satisfied smirk. The look in her eyes was a mixture of triumph and sheer, exhausted pleasure. "Worth it."
She let out a hoarse laugh that turned into a groan. "Ugh… but if you tell anyone I said that, I'll stab you in your sleep."
She tugged the blanket tighter, her gaze falling on the shredded Klee costume. "…You're buying me two new outfits after this. And paying for my voice therapy."
Then, a weak but mischievous glint returned to her eye. "…So. When are we doing Nahida?"
Makoto groaned. "Nahida." The thought alone sent a jolt through his exhausted body.
"Shit, why did that make me hard again?" he muttered to himself, the horrifying realization dawning on him. "Maybe… maybe I am a lolicon after all?"
He gave a nervous giggle and reached out, his hand gently stroking her sweat-slicked skin. Despite the mess, she felt impossibly soft.
Yuna's smirk widened. "Oh? Big bro finally admits it?" she croaked, her ruined voice somehow still smug. She wiggled under his touch like a satisfied cat.
With a huge effort, she rolled onto her side, batting her eyelashes. "Technically, Nahida is 500 years old," she whispered. "So it's fine."
Her hand flopped pathetically toward his half-hard cock, her fingers brushing it lazily. "But big bro's gotta… ugh… recover first."
She glared down at the sticky mess between her legs. "And maybe… buy me a wheelchair next time?"
Makoto chuckled, a genuine, weary sound. "Just rest," he said, his voice softening. He gently caressed her thighs, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her sore, abused cunt.
"I can give you a piggyback, like when we were kids. Want some steak and ice cream later?"
Yuna's eyes lit up, a spark of energy returning. "Steak… and two scoops of ice cream," she bargained hoarsely, raising a shaky finger.
Then, with a wince, she added, "And… carry me to the bath first. I feel like a used fleshlight."
She nestled against him, her tiny frame still trembling. "…You're the worst big brother ever," she mumbled into his chest. There was no venom in it, just raw honesty.
Just before dozing off, she tacked on a final demand. "…Also, Nahida cosplay is 200k. Pre-order."
Her snores were immediate, soft, and rhythmic against his chest. Her cum-sticky thighs were still parted against his leg. Makoto lay there, trapped by her exhausted weight, by the overwhelming reality of their fucked-up relationship.
He let her sleep for an hour, then gently scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom. He ran a warm bath, hoping the steam would soothe her wrecked body.
"How's the water, princess?" he chuckled, lowering her gently into the tub. His eyes didn't leave her, tracing the faint marks he'd left on her skin.
Yuna's eyes fluttered open as the warm water enveloped her, a soft groan escaping her lips. "Mmm… perfect," she murmured, leaning back with a tired sigh. Then her gaze sharpened, catching him staring.
"Like what you see, pervert?" she croaked, the words holding no real bite, just exhausted amusement. She lazily spread her legs a little wider, letting the water rinse away the evidence of their "playtime."
"Klee might be out of commission…" she rasped, tilting her head with a wicked grin, "…but Nahida's got healing powers." Her bare foot nudged his knee under the water. "Now scrub your poor, abused little stepsister clean. Gently."
Makoto took the sponge, his hands moving slowly, carefully, over her back and long, slender legs. "We used to do this when we were kids, huh," he sighed, a pang of nostalgia hitting him.He paused, the question slipping out before he could stop it, a desperate attempt to find something, anything normal to hold onto. "You got a boyfriend, Yuna?"
Yuna stiffened for a second, then snorted. "Pfft. Like I'd have time for that."
She flicked water at him, a playful, yet defensive gesture. "Between gacha pulls, cosplay commissions, and this?" Her hand gestured vaguely at her wrecked body in the bath, a silent, damning indictment.
Then she leaned back with a smirk, her eyes glinting. "Besides…" Her voice dropped to a teasing whisper. "…no boyfriend could compete with onii-chan's special candy."
She giggled as he nearly dropped the soap.
Suddenly, her expression shifted. Something almost vulnerable flickered across her face before she hid it with a splash. "Why? You jealous?"
She grinned, but her eyes were sharp, watching him, gauging his reaction.
"No… nope, why would I be jealous?" Makoto stammered, his face flushing crimson as he looked away, scrubbing at a non-existent spot on her shoulder.
"You're an idiot," he thought, the truth screaming in his head. "Of course, you're jealous. Jealous of anyone who might ever touch her the way you do."
He cleared his throat, trying to change the subject, to pull back from the edge. "You know, that Nahida cosplay sounds… expensive. Maybe next time we can just… skip the cosplay?"
The suggestion was meant to be practical. A way to save money. A way, maybe, to escape the moral trap of the loli cosplay.
Yuna's smirk turned positively predatory.
She spun around in the tub, water sloshing over the edge as she pinned him with her stare.
"OH? So big brother wants to fuck plain old Yuna?" Her voice dripped with mocking sweetness, each word a poison dart. "Without paying for the fantasy?"
She leaned in close, her wet hair clinging to her face, her eyes burning with an intensity that stole the air from his lungs. "That sounds suspiciously like... feelings."
Her finger jabbed his chest, a sharp, accusatory poke. "And feelings will cost extra, big bro."