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>You are Anon, and you are in your bedroom at your desk.
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>Your biology textbook is open, and you're just finishing up your homework.
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>You're in your senior year in high school, alongside your twin sister, Gilda.
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>Even though you were born on the same day, you couldn't be more different.
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>You've always been quiet, but Gilda's always been outgoing and loud.
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>And frankly, kind of an asshole.
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>You don't even hang out much together when you're not in the house, so most people don't even know you're siblings.
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>Fine by you; you don't need people getting revenge on you for shit your sister did to them.
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>Knock knock knock
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>"Hey. Hey, Anon."
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>Oh, christ, it's Gilda.
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>Maybe if you stay quiet, she'll think you're asleep.
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>"I'm respecting your privacy by coming in any-wait, shit. No, I'm respecting your privacy by knocking, but... aww, fuck it. I'm coming in, dweeb!"
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>FUCK.
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>The doorknob twists and the door swings open behind you.
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>Gilda strolls into your room like she owns the place, expertly side-stepping a pile of dirty laundry on the floor.
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>"I need help with calculus, Anon, and you said you'd start tutoring me if I agreed to stop toughening you up."
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>Is THAT what she calls fucking bullying you at school?
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>You let out a sigh and spin your chair around and take in the form of your sister, who is wearing her usual attire.
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>She's got her dumb ripped jeans (so that everyone knows how tough she is), she's got YOUR Ghostbusters hoodie on.
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"Listen, Gil. I don't-"
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>...the fuck?
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>Gilda takes a step back and starts to fiddle with the zipper on your - YOUR - hoodie.
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>Which she is wearing - she stole it without asking you, and now she wears it whenever she wants to piss you off.
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>But you aren't paying attention to that part.
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>Because she's slooowly pulling the zipper down in a decidedly erotic fashion.
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>"Buuut," she coos, "You blew me off even after I stopped being a good sister for you-"
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"You seriously call shoving me into a locker, 'being a good sis-' "
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>"Shut the fuck up!" she barks, her soft expression sharpening for just a moment, "I SAID, you never tutored me as per our agreement, and I really need that C+ in calc. So... I figured that you're a growing boy, and you need some proper motivation to help your big sis."
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>You're paralyzed there in your chair, watching with equal parts trepidation and a confusing sense of desire as the head of the zipper goes lower and lower.
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>More and more creamy white cleavage is revealed.
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>Your sister's breasts press and strain against against the fabric of your hoodie.
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>You can't look away.
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>What the fuck is wrong with your sister?
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>What the fuck is wrong with YOU, for that matter?
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>Why is she doing this?
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>You don't understa-
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>"Hah!"
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>After slowly pulling the head down about a third of the way down her front, she quickly yanks it down the rest of the way.
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>Your heart skips a beat, and then you realize what you're seeing.
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>She has a fucking tank top on underneath it that she had pulled down extra low to give the illusion of being topless underneath YOUR FUCKING HOODIE GOD DAMNIT
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>With a cackle, she whips the hoodie off and tosses it at your face.
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>Without another word - because cackling is not a word - she plonks herself down next to you on your bed and slams her book onto the surface.
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>"No, but seriously," she says, still giggling, "Gimme a hand. This derivative bullshit is confusing."
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>You sigh and fish out your calc textbook.
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>"And I had better not find another crusty sock here on your bed, you dweeb. That shit's nasty."
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"I don't jerk off into socks."
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>"Anymore."
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"Yeah, because you keep stealing my fucking laundry."
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>She's so grossed out by the occasional sock she finds - which, to be fair, you don't have time to hide because fuck you if she keeps bursting into your room whenever she feels like it - that she throws them the fuck out.
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>Like an ASSHOLE.
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>Man, if she didn't beat the shit out of any bully who dared to pick on you, you wouldn't even put up with your sister's bullshit.
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---
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>An hour later, Gilda slams her book shut and stands up.
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>She yawns and stretches, planting her hands on the small of her back and leaning back; you hear a few muffled pops coming from her spine.
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>"Welp!" she sighs, "I think I get it now!"
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>Before you can so much as utter a "get the fuck out of my bedroom, and stop stealing my goddamn clothes", Gilda swoops down with almost falcon-like speed.
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>She grabs the side of your head and pulls you towards her, planting a kiss on your cheek.
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>It's over as soon as it started, and she's walking out your bedroom door before you can even react.
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>"Thanks a lot, dweeb."
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>SLAM
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>You stare at your door, not sure what to feel.
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>She's NEVER been anywhere near that affectionate in the past.
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>She's never fucking strip-teased you before - that's new, let me tell you - and she's never so much as hugged you, let alone given you a kiss on the cheek.
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>Is she sick?
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>Are YOU sick?
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>Oh god, is one of you DYING?!
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>You stare at the door for a long time, and then pick up your sweater.
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>...
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>It smells like Gilda.
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>Something falls out of the pocket; some sort of stiff cloth tube.
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>The fuck is-
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"Is that my sock?"
by OniiChansFables
by OniiChansFables
by OniiChansFables
by OniiChansFables
by OniiChansFables