Care for You
The worst (and best) thing your mother has ever done to you is marry this man and give you a mysterious, handsy stepbrother.
▸ PAIRING: Stepbrother!Nick Fowler x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, stepcest, brother kink, lots of groping and inappropriate touching, semi-public (aka driving) fingering, spanking, oral (f!receiving), a lil service dom!nick, a lil brat!reader ▸ WORD COUNT: 7K ▸ A/N: icb nick became my largest kinktober fic but here we are. like this man is a deranged pervert (he likes referring to himself as older brother for god's sake), you have been warned. a reminder that i am not responsible for your media consumption, please heed warnings!!! if you liked this fic, please reply/reblog/like (or all 3!) <3
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When Nick Fowler became your stepbrother, you knew he would be nothing but trouble. It’s tough enough that your mother decided to remarry without consulting you, yet it doesn’t compare to the struggle of having a new brother now living under your roof. Your previously all-female household transformed with the sudden influx of testosterone.
You had sulked and pouted through the entire announcement. It’s not entirely your fault, your mom had dropped a bombshell on you. Hey, honey, so I’ve been seeing this man for months behind your back and he proposed to me last night and he’ll be moving in with us. Oh, also he has a son, which means you now have a brother!
However, Nick didn’t let you act like a brat for too long. With a firm grip on your elbow, he quietly urges you to sit and listen properly. To act like the adult that you are and not some wronged child.
You’re not entirely sure why, but you do as you’re told.
There is an air of mystery around Nick. Your mom is extra hush-hush when it comes to talking about what he does for work, which means she says absolutely nothing at all. Your suspicion is that she doesn’t know either. When you asked him once, he gave some poor excuse of an answer about being an accountant — a job nobody wants to hear about, which means it does not prompt further questioning. But you had given him a stink-eye that signaled you smelled his bullshit.
Nick had only smiled, calm and rehearsed.
There are times when he disappears for days. No one seems to sound any alarms. When he returns a week or two later, it is as if nothing has changed. Nobody mentions the newly-healed scar on his jaw or the fact that his nose is now slightly crooked. Your questions to your mother are answered by waves of indifference and a reminder telling you to behave around your new brother.
Beyond that, it’s the authority that he commands in every room. While his father is clearly the new head of the household, there’s a firmness to Nick’s stance that has everyone on edge. You’ve noticed his father squirming more than once when Nick is being particularly curt, but the older man doesn’t point it out. Your mother chooses not to address the tension, which leaves you at an impasse.
Whatever he does for a living, it’s clear that he is used to being the one in charge.
It’s not only his secret occupation that bothers you. It’s the way that he behaves around you. In front of your parents (yes, plural now), he is calm and cordial. When they turn their backs to him, his eyes flash with something more dangerous. A look that you can’t quite pinpoint, but still has goosebumps rising on your skin.
There have been multiple occasions when he has stood a little too close for comfort. Shuffling behind you in the kitchen to grab a mug above your head, hips brushing yours as his arms cage you in. One arm on the counter next to your hip and the other reaching above your head.
Or when he comes to the breakfast table late and slides a warm hand around the back of your neck as he slips into the seat next to you, rumbling “morning” to the parents and another one softly to you. His touch leaves behind hints of his cologne that tickle your nose throughout the day.
Or when you are coerced into attending weekly, family movie nights and he is on the couch next to you after he strongarms you into joining. His arm settles comfortably around your shoulders as if it belongs there, as his fingers absentmindedly trace circles on your bare skin.
His behavior is a little too… intimate for your taste. Then again, you’ve never had a sibling so your head justifies this as normal. Maybe this is how all siblings — step or otherwise — interact.
That said, you aren’t blind. You know Nick is stupidly attractive with his piercing blue eyes, strong jawline, rugged features, large build, toned chest (not that you’ve seen it that much), and— you get the point. So the butterflies in your stomach when he is being more assertive with you, when he uses his big brother voice, is something you don’t question.
You’re used to being an only child. A brat really most days. So it’s a different kind of feeling when you have someone around who apparently feels like he has authority over you.
You’re not sure whether it’s a good thing yet.
It’s difficult to describe Nick. This is clear when you’re out for lunch with a friend from college, Jeanie. Since your mom is taking the family car for the day, a beat-up Subaru that has lasted longer than it should, you tell her that you can just grab an Uber home.
“I could pick you up,” Nick interjects from the kitchen where he’s sipping his coffee. “I’m running errands around there anyway. Save you the money.”
Your mom is obviously delighted that her new son is doing a favor for his new stepsibling. You, on the other hand, still have trust issues with him and hence the so-called errands he's running. So this nice act he’s selling, you don’t buy it.
So when Jeanie asks you what’s happening with this new marital arrangement, you don’t really know what to say. “You know, you haven’t told me much about this new brother of yours.”
Stiffening, you brush her off with another scoop into your shared dish, shoving it into your mouth to avoid answering. “There’s nothing to tell.”
She wiggles her spoon at you teasingly. “Oh come on, you’ve been the center of attention your entire life and now you’re sharing the spotlight. There must be something. What’s he like?”
Infuriating. Stubborn. Mysterious. Secretive. Annoyingly hot.
Nick doesn’t really feel like a brother. Not with the way he lets your name sweetly roll off his tongue. Not with the way your stomach traitorously flips every time he brushes against your skin. Not with the way you can’t help but drown in his sapphire eyes.
“He’s fine. A normal adult man,” you opt to say, praying that she drops this.
“Show me a picture,” she grins, leaning forward and her eyes dart to your phone on the table.
For one reason or another, you don’t find yourself reaching for your phone. There are certainly countless family pictures that your mom has shared in your new family group chat where both you and Nick are in. Ones that download automatically to your phone. You tell yourself you’re too lazy to delete them, but a tiny part of you refuses to admit that it’s nice to keep his photo in there too. Eye candy and whatnot.
But you’re hesitant to show him to Jeanie. No doubt he’s attractive — and single as far as you can tell based on his comings and goings. Jeanie is also a man-eater and will devour any remotely good-looking man on sight. You’re not sure if you want Nick to be subjected to that. Her touching him. Touching what’s yours.
Fuck. Where did that come from?
He’s your stepbrother. He’s not yours.
“Oh, shit. Hot guy alert. My god, that is a tall drink of water in this drought. He’s really giving tall, dark, and handsome. Wonder how old he is. Don’t turn too fast— shit, wait. He’s walking this way.”
Then you hear your name. It’s said with that familiar heat coating his tongue. You can feel your insides twisting as you look up to find Nick by your table, lips curled into a pleased smirk. The fuck is he so happy about?
With your mouth dry, you clear your throat. “Nick, you’re early.”
“Wrapped up early, figured I’d check in on my baby sister.”
Those words shouldn’t have an effect on you. Yet, they do. You mask the excitement with a frown. A feigned protest at the term of endearment sits on your tongue but Jeanie beats you to it. “So you’re the new brother,” she purrs and you know that sound. She’s a woman on the hunt. “I’m Jeanie. I’ve heard great things.”
Nick’s eyes never once stray from you. The deep look in his eyes focused solely on you is flattering. Jeanie is a stunner and you’ve always had to fight for attention growing up around her, especially with men. Nick doesn’t even blink at her. His smile tips up even higher. “Have you really? Been talking about me?”
“No,” you spit out, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.
“Don’t have to be so shy.”
“I’m not.”
Nick looks at you, appearing entertained.
Jeanie seems oblivious to the tension and instead asks, “Why don’t you join us? We still have dessert to order.”
Unfortunately for you, Nick seems out to get you today. “I could use dessert.”
“Nick,” you huff with a look. He disregards your tantrum and pulls up a chair.
Dessert is relatively uneventful for the most part. While you expect both of them to be insufferable, Nick is actually decent at managing Jeanie. Every question she throws at him, he expertly deflects. He forces his gaze to shift to her every time she asks him something before it is inevitably drawn back to you.
His eyes are calculating, like he’s assessing you and indulging in how you squirm uncomfortably.
When the bill comes, Nick smoothly slides his card onto the platter before handing it back to the waiter.
“I can pay my own bills, Nick,” you say with a purse of your lips.
The corner of his lips twitches. “I know you can, doesn’t mean you should. Let big brother take care of you.”
Jeanie laughs delightedly in the background, but your ears are ringing with the sudden heat that floods your body. Your skin ripples with warmth. Something about the way his lips curl around the syllables. How he says big brother.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you choose to look away and abandon this battle.
As the three of you step out of the restaurant, Nick wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you closer. You bite back a shiver when his fingers brush your slightly exposed midriff. “I should get this kid home before it’s too late. Good to meet you, Jeanie.”
You instinctively bite back. “I’m not a kid.”
Jeanie again ignores the push-and-pull between the two of you. She smiles brightly at Nick, fluttering her lashes at him. “Would you mind dropping me off at home too? I don’t live far from you guys.”
Nick glances at you for a brief second, and you can only look away. Then you hear him say, “Sure.”
As Nick leads the two of you to his car, much nicer and much newer than your family car, Jeanie prances to the passenger side door. It prickles some unknown irritation inside you as you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, stomping quietly over.
However, before either of you can enter, Nick says to Jeanie, “She’s actually been getting car sick lately sitting in the back, so I’ll take her up front with me.”
Your friend looks more than mildly disappointed and, as much as you love her, you do take some satisfaction in the way Nick takes your side.
If there were sides.
Once Jeanie is tucked safely in the backseat, Nick reaches over for your door. A gentleman. You look at him with a frown, you seem to be doing a lot of that around him. “I don’t get car sick.”
“I know.”
Again, you aren’t sure what to make of that.
Confirming that you’re strapped in the passenger seat, Nick pulls out of the parking lot. The ride home is quiet, at least for you. He keeps Jeanie entertained by answering all her questions, which you admittedly also eavesdrop on.
“So what do you do for work, Nick?”
“Accounting.”
“Sounds thrilling. Do you like it?”
“Pays the bills.”
“What do you like to do outside of work?”
“Gym.”
“Mmm, you do look fit. Think you can bench me?”
“Wouldn’t know, wouldn’t try.”
You hide your smile.
When she finally exits with a promise to visit more often, no doubt to see one person that isn’t you, Nick heads out to the road again.
That’s when you feel it — a large, warm hand on your bare knee, inches below where your skirt ends. Where your skirt has ridden up slightly, but you don’t bother to adjust. For no reason whatsoever.
You don’t acknowledge the hand. In fact, you keep quiet despite the tensing of your thigh.
“What’re you thinking about?” Nick breaks the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“Been pretty quiet.”
“I’m always pretty quiet.”
“Not when you’re with me, kid. Always find something to complain about.”
You scowl, and he chuckles.
His hand lifts from your leg to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You resist turning to look at him, to see what expression he’s making — if he’s even looking at you at all. Then his hand slides down to cup the side of your neck, thumb reaching up to stroke your jaw.
It’s such a soft gesture. Brotherly. However, there is something about it that makes you tense. The way his grip is so firm on you.
Coughing to ease the thickness of the air, you shrug. “I’m fine, just lost in thought, I guess.”
“Anything you want to tell your big brother about?”
That is what has you whipping around to fake a gag at him. “Don’t call yourself that.”
You swear you see his eyes darken slightly, but his gaze is glued on the street ahead. “What do you want to call me then?”
“Nick. That’s your name.”
His lips curve again. “Kinda like calling you baby sister.”
You roll your eyes. “Only because you know it pisses me off.”
“Mm,” he hums, “I do enjoy riling you up.”
And when his hand joins his other one at the wheel, you try not to let it show how much you’re already missing the loss of his warmth. It’s a little pathetic how drawn you are to him. How you’re so easily affected by him.
It’s not as if it’s your first time with boys. You’ve had plenty in your lifetime. Hell, just last week, you indulged in an old friend. The fact that you sought him out only after Nick sat a little too close to you during movie night is purely coincidental.
Most of the time, you brush off these interactions with Nick. Maybe he is just being a good stepbrother. Maybe your hormones have just been on haywire since he arrived, since you haven’t lived in proximity to another man in a long time.
Though, you should’ve known better. You should’ve listened to your instincts.
It all comes to a head one day when you need to go pick up a few... items.
Jogging towards the door, you call out, “Mom, gonna take the car to head to the mall. I need to grab some stuff.”
“Alright, sweetheart. See you for dinner!”
Before you can make it out of the house, Nick is suddenly by your side. The keys in his hand jingle. “I’ll drive. We can take mine.”
You swallow the urge to tell him no for the sake of being annoying. Nick’s calmness is unnerving sometimes, you can’t help but want to poke the bear sleeping underneath. “Why are you going?”
“Need to pick up a couple of things too.”
“What kind of things?” You ask, suspicion lacing your voice.
In lieu of answering, he manhandles you out with a hand on your lower back.
“So what do you need to pick up?” He prompts when you’re finally on the main road.
You shoot him an annoyed look. “You didn’t even answer my question.”
“A few shirts and suits for work.”
A snort escapes you. “Ah, yes, your accounting job.”
He looks at you with a small smile. “You don’t like it?”
“I don’t like a liar.”
“Serious accusation,” Nick teases. “Why do you think I’m lying?”
“Because I’m not an idiot.”
“You never answered my question.”
When you think about what you have to pick up, you can feel heat lick your cheeks. So you deflect. “None of your business.”
After Nick parks the car, you whirl around in the lobby of the mall. “Meet back here in an hour?”
“Eager to get rid of me?”
Not necessarily but you are antsy to get your stuff and get going before he can question it too much. It’s not embarrassing per se, but you’re still a girl and he’s still a guy. Brothers don't help sisters shop for what you're looking for. Right?
“Come with me first,” he says instead.
“Why?”
“Want your opinion.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “It’s a shirt and tie, can’t be too difficult. I’m sure you’ll look good in anything.”
The compliment slips out before you can bite your tongue and, of course, Nick catches it, judging by the massive smile on her face. “Come on.”
You end up being maneuvered to the department store where there are racks and racks of similar-looking pale shirts. You follow Nick around as he plucks out a few things then disappears behind the curtain.
You’re on the couch facing said curtain, scrolling through your phone. The curtain shifts slightly and you notice that he never pulled it all the way shut. It’s not like you intend to peek. It’s not your fault that you happen to get a glimpse of his broad back flexing, muscles rippling and all, as he shrugs on a shirt.
Definitely not an accountant’s build.
When Nick steps out, the air is punched out of your lungs. Somehow, he looks even better from the front. The fabric fits him perfectly, stretching across his broad chest. He throws on a suit on top and you’re practically drooling, the phone in your hand nearly slipping out of your grasp.
“What do you think?”
Fuckin’ perfect.
Before you can respond, a clerk swoops in. Her blonde hair is swirled up into a neat updo as she straightens her uniform. “Oh, it fits you perfectly! I’ve never seen anyone wear this better.” She is laying it on thick with her hand on his arm as she leans over with a giggle.
Nick casually steps away from her touch and turns to you with more light in his eyes. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? You cock a curious brow. He’s never called you that before. “Um, yeah. Looks good.”
The woman clearly can’t take a hint when she offers, “I can help you bring—”
“That won’t be necessary, we’ve got it.” Nick’s curt and coldly polite. It’s enough to send her off with her tail tucked between her legs.
You tamp down the excitement bubbling inside you.
Once he’s paid, again with his hand on your lower spine, he navigates you out. “Alright, let’s go to whatever you need to do.”
Your lips press together into a thin line. “You can wait at the food court. I won’t take long and I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
It’s Nick’s turn to raise a suspicious brow at you. “What are you buying?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll find you later.”
His eyes narrow. “Is this for drugs? Are you buying off someone because if you are—”
“Oh my god, I’m getting bras and underwear okay! Jesus, why’d you have to make me say it out loud?” The confession has blood rushing to your face and you rub it furiously, hoping your cool fingertips will ease some of your humiliation.
Nick looks like he’s swallowing a laugh and all you can manage is a glare. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
Your objections fall on deaf ears as Nick makes his way towards the women’s floor. “Nick, come on. Please. This is so embarrassing.”
“What’s so embarrassing about underwear?”
“Nick!”
He fails to muffle his laughter this time as he hooks an arm around your neck. “I’m a grown man, little sis. I’ve seen my fair share of them.”
“You’re so fucking insufferable.”
If anyone sees you smile at his laugh, you’ll deny it.
Thankfully, Nick lets you roam around on your own as you pick out simple colors and designs. While your eyes are drawn to the pretty lace pieces, you convince yourself that they aren’t as practical. At some point, Nick does pop up behind you but disappears again before you can say anything.
When you slink over to the fitting room, Nick once again appears and drops a couple more into your pile.
“What?”
“Try ‘em on.”
Without questioning him further, you jump in behind the curtain. That is when you notice the new red lace bra in your hands and a sheer pastel blue one. They’re stunning. Of course, Nick would have good taste in lingerie. He probably has loads of experience, you think bitterly to yourself.
After trying on your choices, you stare at the two pieces hanging. Taunting you. Biting the bullet, you slip on the red one first. You hate to admit it but it looks gorgeous on you. The push-up gives you extra generous cleavage, the color complementing your skin.
“How’s it going in there?”
Nick’s voice makes you jump and you instinctively cover yourself up. “Fine.”
“Let me see.”
Your brain doesn’t catch up fast enough before he slips past the curtain and into the room. Your arms immediately tighten to cover yourself further. “Nick, what the fuck!”
“Language, sweetheart.”
He shamelessly, appreciatively rakes his eyes up and down your figure, gaze leaving behind a trail of fire.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, “I knew it would be perfect for you.”
“It’s a little much,” you clear your throat, arms still wrapped like a shield around your body. It only serves to push your breasts closer together.
His palm lands on your bare waist, sliding around to your abdomen. The touch sends shivers down your spine. “No, this is beautiful. You should get it.”
Your skin tingles under his gaze. You should be embarrassed. You’re half naked in front of Nick. You should also probably be alarmed that your stepbrother is in the changing room with you in a lingerie store.
But you’re not.
“Try on the other one.”
The two of you stand quietly, his stare still on your body and yours on his eyes. “Um, shouldn’t you go wait outside?”
“Try it on.”
Thrill shoots up your veins. Your heart is thrumming a little harder, a little faster. You wonder if he can hear it too. You should tell him to leave. You should shove him out of the dressing room. But you don’t.
Secretly, you’re preening in his attention. That his eyes are only on you and have only been on you.
Biting your bottom lip, you nudge him to the corner. “Can you at least turn around?”
He slowly turns with his hands up, shoulders shaking with a chuckle. You take off the red one and slide on the next one. When your gaze darts up to the mirror, you catch Nick peeking over his shoulder. “Nick!”
Unapologetically, he rolls his shoulders. “Just making sure you’re okay.”
Your fingers reach around to clasp the back but they’re flimsy and you’re struggling to hook them together. That’s when a pair of hands much larger than yours take over, fingers brushing against your spine. A gasp hitches in your throat as Nick deftly loops them through.
His hands slide down your back and up your sides as he hooks a chin over your shoulder, his stubble tickling your bare skin. His eyes roam over your body once more in the mirror.
The material is practically transparent, your nipples clear as day underneath the see-through fabric. The thin lace offers zero support. This is the most impractical piece of clothing you have ever seen. And yet—
“Gorgeous.”
Your brain can barely comprehend the situation. Nick smiles to himself and you swear you feel the slight brush of his lips against the back of your shoulder before he exits, leaving you to change again.
You’re still in a daze when you change back to your clothes, when Nick guides you to the cashier, when he swipes his card for everything you tried on. You almost miss the cashier cooing at how sweet it is that he’s buying lingerie for his girlfriend. Your mouth opens to correct her but Nick squeezes your hip.
Then you’re in the car again and Nick’s palm is on your leg, sliding higher and higher until they sneak in between your thighs. You don’t stop him. He doesn’t stop going higher.
A guttural moan rises from his chest as his fingertips brush your damp panties.
“When did you start getting wet?”
Your breathing falters again as he starts teasing your clothed slit with a finger. He doesn’t look fazed, keeping a close watch of the road ahead.
Nick hums thoughtfully when he slips a finger under the fabric to touch the moisture between your legs. Your legs involuntarily fall apart wider, granting him more access as you lean back with a soft sigh against your seat. He doesn’t push his finger in, he merely hovers. Drifting his fingertip lightly over your sensitive slit, grazing your clit until you’re sliding further down, desperate for more.
“When did you start, sweetheart?”
You whine slightly, one hand gripping the door and the other wrapping around Nick’s wrist. Whether it’s to push him away or keep him there, you’re not sure. The latter seems to be more likely. “I-I don’t know.”
“Was it when you were watching me change? Or was it when I was watching you?” He asks, voice almost sickeningly sweet as he dips two fingers now under your underwear. He hooks them on your waist and tugs the fabric down your legs, letting them fall to the floor as your thighs part even more. “Tell me.”
“Hnng, when I was changing, when you saw me in — fuck, Nick — the first bra.”
“Yeah? You enjoyed me looking at you like that?”
“Yeah,” you pant lightly, “liked seeing how much you liked how I looked in it.”
“We can do a repeat, you can do a little try-on for me again when we get home.”
Your tongue swipes your bottom lip as you tilt your head to look at him. His fingers now have full access to your aching pussy, but he’s still not doing anything more than stroking it lightly. Fucking tease.
“Nick, please,” you whimper. “Fingers. I want your fingers in me.”
He chuckles low, chancing a brief glance at you. “My sweet, sweet sister. So desperate. Are you like this with everyone?”
No. Your libido’s been through the roof since he moved in. It doesn’t help when he comes in drenched after his morning runs, even shirtless at times. Sometimes, he even steps out of the bathroom with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. The man knows he’s attractive and he knows what he’s doing.
It’s evident now in the way he’s been touching you the last few days.
You wriggle against his hand, hoping for more, but Nick only smiles. “Why don’t you ask me nicely?”
“I did,” you whimper. “Please, Nick. Your fingers in me, please.”
“Yeah, you going to let big brother take care of you?”
Fuck, he’s such a kinky fucker.
And you like it.
A deep moan escapes you as you nod. “Yes, please. Take care of me.”
Nick finally pushes a finger into your tight opening. No matter how wide you spread your legs, how much your skirt has ridden up, it’s still a squeeze. “So fuckin’ tight, sweetheart. Look at you. Dripping and clenchin’ around me.”
“‘M so wet, Nick,” you whisper.
“You are, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
Your eyes slide shut as Nick begins fingering you slowly with one at first. Your body slumps back against the leather seat and the car’s rumbling vibrations only prove to fuel the heat brewing in your belly.
With the delicious friction lighting a fire inside your pussy, you can’t help but writhe against his hand. The base of his palm grinds against your clit as he adds another finger inside you. It’s so easy for him to slide in and out, in and out, triggering a new wave of electricity through your veins.
You’re a weak woman, putty in his hands. He is clearly a man with plenty of experience because he watches your every twitch, every jerk of your hips to find the right spots to hit. He strokes your insides intentionally, fingers reaching deep inside of you, and curls his fingers just right.
When you start to get too close, Nick slows down his ministrations which only leaves you frustrated. You whine as he pauses his hands at a stoplight, seeming to take pleasure in how you wiggle your hips into his hand. He brings you up only to drag you back down, again and again, until he’s parked outside your home.
By the time he turns the engine off, your entire body is on fire. Beads of sweat cling to your neck as you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting patiently for Nick to continue.
Nick grins salaciously as his fingers begin working you again. Fast and slow. Pumping in and out and twisting thickly inside you. You’re pretty sure the car is shaking with how you’re floundering in your seat. “Think you can cum on big brother’s fingers now? Be a good girl. Cum for me before our parents can see. Bet they heard the car pull up already. You don’t want them to come out here and see their little girl creamin’ all over her big brother’s fingers.”
It’s the final straw. Your pleasure crests and you’re grinding against his hand to ride it out, your back arching off the chair. Your pussy seizes around his fingers, pulsing as the orgasm rocks through you. Nick’s entire body turns to look at you as your chest heaves with stuttered breaths.
“Gorgeous,” Nick smiles, leaning over to leave a chaste kiss on your forehead. He slowly drags his fingers out of you, pulling another whimper from your pouty lips, and sticks them in his mouth. He moans at the flavor of you, sticky and wet on his tongue. “Fuckin’ sweet, like how I always pictured it. Such a good girl.”
The fog in your brain persists as you rest back, gulping in deep breaths. However, when it clears, the reality of the situation sinks in fast. Panic flares in your gut. “We shouldn’t have done that. Fuck, Nick. What have we done? We’re siblings for god’s sake.”
“Step siblings,” Nick corrects.
“Still, it’s not— we shouldn’t have. We live together, Nick. Fuck, this was a mistake.”
Nick catches your chin and kisses you deep, drinking in your moan as he does so. He tastes a little like him and a little like you. “Listen to me. You can walk away right now. We’ll act like this never happened. I can try and pretend like I don’t know how fucking sweet your pretty cunt tastes.”
“Nick!”
Then his lips curl up into a slow grin, tongue dragging across his teeth. “How about this — if you want your big brother to take care of you, then, when you see our parents, you call them mom and dad. If not, then you call them as you always have.”
You have refused to call his father by anything other than Mr. Fowler. He’s not family. You vowed to never call him dad because he isn’t yours. However, this is Nick’s bargain. If you acknowledge the man as your father, then you acknowledge Nick as your brother.
But it also means that you’re giving Nick the green light to give you what you really want.
When you step past the threshold and see the two in the kitchen, you freeze. They haven’t noticed you yet. Nick stands one step behind you, a sly smile dancing on his lips.
“Hey, Mom,” you blurt out and she turns and Nick’s father looks up from his phone at the table. They’re both looking at you expectantly. Waiting.
With your heart hammering against your ribs and your lips trembling, you say, “Dad.”
The way both their faces illuminate should have some sort of effect on you, but you squeak when Nick’s hand slides up your thigh and grabs your ass. The three of them make some small talk, you may have responded with a word or two, but you can’t really process the conversation with how he’s squeezing the soft skin. A gush of cool air hits you between your legs every time he kneads a cheek, separating and exposing your pussy. Your underwear is still tucked into his back pocket, cotton hanging out for all to see.
“Why don’t you both clean up for dinner? I’ll make something special tonight so it’ll take some time, but this is a big day, isn’t it? We’re a family now.” Your mother swipes away a tear as Nick’s father tucks her into his side.
Any other time, you may have softened at the sight, but right now, you’re too busy struggling to stand. Nick leans you against his side. “Sounds good, take all the time you need. We’ll get ready for dinner.”
While your parents immediately launch into dinner prep, Nick leads you upstairs and straight into your room, locking the door behind him.
Within seconds, he has you pressed up against the door, lips crashing down on yours. He swallows your whimpers and nudges your legs open with his knee. “Look at you, my little sister’s a desperate little whore. Do you spread your legs for anyone?”
Gone is the cool and composed stepbrother you know. In his place is this feral man with fire in his eyes and a rougher grip. Nick yanks you towards your bed, plops down and bends you over across his legs. His fingers go back to working your ass, pulling apart your cheeks to check on your pussy.
“Your cunt’s glistening, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wet for me.”
“Nick, please,” you whimper.
“Tell me, when was the last time you fucked anyone?”
You don’t think your answer will be the one he’s looking for so you seal your lips shut.
A palm lands on your ass with a crack, jolting you forward. The skin throbs with a dull sting from the blow. “Nick!”
“Answer my question.”
“Why does it matter?” You squirm in an attempt to free yourself from him.
However, Nick keeps you down, your legs dangling over his. He hits you with another slap on your other cheek, hand immediately coming down to soothe the sharp, sudden pain. “Because I want to know the last time you let another man in here.”
Another slap, then another, and another. At this point, you’re leaking all over his pants. You’re panting desperately, and all you want to do is have his cock fill you up. Your ass is burning with every hit, but it only exacerbates the flame burning bright in your core.
“Fuck, last week!” You finally cry out, hand flying to your mouth to muffle your sobs. “Stop please. It hurts.”
“Who fucked you?”
“An old friend! I was horny, so sue me.”
Nick laughs low, more menacing rather than amused. “Next time you want someone to fill this cunt, you come to your big brother. You got it? No one else gets to taste this, or touch this, or especially fuck this.”
You nod eagerly, desperate to get this pain over and done with. “Nick, please. Fuck me. I want you.”
“Good girl,” he coos, “at least you’re honest.”
Nick picks you up and tosses you onto the bed, quickly tugging your shirt off and your skirt down, leaving you naked and ready for him. He pulls his own shirt over his head and begins unbuttoning his jeans. You’re suddenly exposed to his delicious set of abs.
“You’re not an accountant,” you say matter-of-factly.
He only chuckles, but doesn’t respond, confirming your suspicions. Instead, he opts to slant his lips over yours again, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, drawing out a gasp that allows him to slip in. With your tongues twisting together, spit stringing between the two of you, Nick rubs your breasts before shifting down and taking confident licks of your nipples.
“Nearly bent you over in that changing room earlier,” he groans against your tits. “Fuckin’ perfect tits with these pretty nipples. I wanted to suck you over the fabric, wanted you to walk out and hand over bras wet with my spit at the register.”
Nick swallows another gasp before it can slip into the air. He drags his tongue up to your neck and presses deep against the sensitive skin before trailing his lips back down. He sucks on your tits, hands toying and pinching and squeezing. You bring your fist to your mouth and bite down to stop yourself from whimpering too loud.
He makes his way south until he’s lifting your legs and throwing them above his shoulder as he splays out between them. He doesn’t waste a breath as he begins to lap up your leaking juices. His tongue pushes inside your opening, loosened now from his fingers, strokes up your pussy, as his lips close in around your clit. He switches between fucking you with his tongue and teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb.
“Tastes like honey, sweetheart,” he groans against your spread legs. The sound has you lifting up from the bed, moaning needily as he continues to pleasure you. “I’ll always take good care of you. If you ever need someone to lick this cunt clean or to fill it up with cum, you’re going to ask me. Gonna ask your big brother.”
“Hnng, yeah, okay. God, fuck, that feels so good.” Your fingers twist in his short hair, tugging on it as your stomach clenches with wanton need.
“Repeat it for me, sweetheart. I’m only going to ask my big brother to take care of me.”
“Nick,” you whine, “that’s embarrassing.”
“Come on,” he coaxes sweetly.
Biting on your bottom lip, you force your eyes open to look at him where he’s positioned. His lips are shiny with spit, chin glistening with your juices. Eyes on you. Always only on you. How can you say no to him?
“I’m only going to ask my big brother to take care of me,” you echo shyly.
“To lick your cunt, to fuck your pussy.”
Your complaint dies in your throat when Nick begins fucking you with his fingers and his tongue again, alternating between the two until you’re writhing on the bed. “Fuck. Nick, please. Only you. Licking my cunt. Fucking my pussy. Filling me up. Nobody else.”
“That’s my good girl,” he praises again and your toes curl with desire. “Only moved in here for you. Gave up my nice house so I can be under the same roof as you, pretty girl.”
You’re so close, you can practically taste your second orgasm of the day. However, a knock sounds at your door, which has both of you going rigid.
“Hey, honey.”
Fuck. Fuck.
Your heart stops in your chest as Nick sticks his head back between your legs. Biting your tongue, you try to hold back your whimper as his tongue swipes along your sensitive skin again. Your fingers wrestle against his head in your attempt to push him away. “Stop it, she’s going to know.”
“Answer your mom, sweetheart,” he only smiles against your cunt, breath hot against the moist skin.
He is relentless, hold never once loosening on your hips as he pins you down onto the bed and eats you out.
You have to reply, otherwise she’ll get suspicious. “H-hey, Mom.”
“Dinner’s ready! Have you seen Nick? He’s not in his room,” she says quizzically from the other side of the door.
That’s because he’s there between your legs, eating your pussy like it’s a five-course meal. “Um, not sure—” you muffle a yelp when Nick nips the inside of your thigh and you shoot a glare at him. “I’ll find him and make sure we come down for dinner.”
“Great, thanks, honey.”
As soon as the two of you hear her footsteps fading away, Nick goes all in. He’s pushing his fingers inside of you the same time he’s licking you all over, pressing his tongue against your clit, circling it. You’re a mess underneath him, nearly thrashing around as he fucks you open with his mouth.
Every nerve inside of you is buzzing. Your heart is in your throat. Your body is strung so tight and you’re just waiting for that moment when your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs, before you completely crumble in his hands, stars exploding before your eyes.
You shove your face into a pillow to dampen the sound of your cries, your moans, your whimpers as your hips grind down against his face to draw out your orgasm. Nick doesn’t let up, instead licking up your cream until you feel overstimulated, until you have to push his face away from between your legs.
“Fuck, I’m too sensitive,” you whine.
“Pretty when you cum, sweetheart.”
A short laugh escapes you as you throw an arm over your eyes. Your body sinking into the mattress as you feel your muscles finally unwind. “I can’t believe we did that,” you huff then peek at him. “I want to return the favor but we should probably head downstairs first. Don’t want them coming back up to check on us.”
“It’s not a favor. Like I said, I only want to take care of you,” Nick says as he crawls up to kiss you. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling that familiar warmth stir again inside of you.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have my own dessert after dinner. A little cream in my tea?”
Nick sighs with a content smile. “I can work with that.”
