vacation with your brother!
cw: fauxcest, sibcon, degradation, older guy, dry humping, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex!)
thank you @erosmutt for the inspiration for this ...the dialogue was sooo good i was shocked, i hope this isnât offensive! can take it down if needed.
the sounds of him shuffling outside the bathroom were unavoidable in the silence. the steam in the room was making you sleepy, your wet hair perfuming the room with your kidâs green apple shampoo. you picture him, his feet padding on the carpet as he tucked the sheets into the cushions, spread the blanket above it, slipping off his sweatshirt to sling it over the arm of the couch, then his shirt, then hisâŠ
eventually you slip out of the bathroom, seeing him sprawled out on the couch he decided to sleep on, one hand above his head, one cradling his phone as he smiles at the screen. his sweatshirt was bunched around his elbows and riding up around his stomach, giving you a line to trace down his chest to his bare skin and the happy trail that dips below the waistband of his jeans. you poked your head around the doorway, just for a glance, and he looks up.
âwhat are you doing up?â he says fast, all in one breath.
âshowering, genius.â you quip.
he nodded, looking back down at his phone, but not before dragging his eyes down your body, in your satin slip, your wet hair, your flushed features, the smell of you wafting from the bathroom as the steam billows out. you opened the door to your room as quietly as you could; your parents were asleep in the room over. you disappeared into it and you felt him watch you.Â
you had begged for your own room, for privacy, even if it was your last vacation with all of your family together before you headed off to college. but now, slipping under the covers and flicking the lamp off, you wish your brother was there with you. not outside, laughing at his phone. trying and failing to relax, to calm your speeding heart, to settle into the bed, you huff.
then you notice the hall lights flicking on. idiot, heâs gonna wake up mom and dad. you see the shadow of his figure blocking the light under your door, and then as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and the lights flicker off. you listened, lying on your back, tense, as the ceiling fan spun above you. it offered no refuge from the suffocating heat of the house. you heard the shower head turn on and tried not to imagine him soaping himself slowly, or think about the fact that he most likely didnât pack toiletries, so heâd be using your shampoo and the tiny bottle of body wash they gave you that smelled like musk and bergamot. tried not to picture his biceps as he scrubbed his hair roughly with a towel, not to imagine the towel slung low around his hips as he dug through his suitcase for a shirt that wasnât covered in sand. you failed, and sighed heavily. turning over, you listened to the sounds of the water stopping, the sink, the pipes shuddering.   you almost started to reach down, under your dress, when you heard him leave the room, you froze. then, a knock, 3 times.
âgoodnight,â he calls into the room through the door. you heard him shifting his weight. man, these walls were thin.
âgoodnight,â you call back softly, your pulse jackrabbiting in your wrists and your neck. you knew it was wrong, to feel this flustered and bothered about your brother, to let your heart race, but you couldnât help it. he was hot, and it was hard not to notice. and you knew he noticed you too.
you imagined, again, him settling on the couch, lying back, exhaling hard as he unpauses the tv. you want him to pause it again, to hear him shift, for the door to squeak open. for him to enter the room and pull your blanket back, climb on top of you, and murmur things into your neck. then you feel gross, shame spreading across your face and blooming in your neck. but after an uncomfortable stretch of time lying in silence, you strengthen your resolve and get out of the bed, stretching your legs out before putting your feet on the carpet. the slip rode up your smooth thigh as you opened the door silently and poked your head out yet again. you lean against the doorframe, one foot tucked behind the other, hands wringing.
âhi,â you whispered timidly. he looked up, surprised.
ââŠhi,â he whispered back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows raised. he leaned forward on the couch, running a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up. heâs wearing flannel pajama pants and a thin white shirt. you have the absent thought somewhere in the back of your mind that you want to put your hands up it. youâre brought back to reality when he raises an eyebrow at your silence.
âeverything okay?â he says, looking back towards your parentâs room, lowering his voice. you straightens up from the doorframe, taking a few steps towards him.
âyeah, fine. i just canât fall asleep. itâs so silent here, and itâs warm in my room.â you look towards the tv. âwhat are you watching?â
he looks back at the screen, almost like he forgot it was there.Â
âsome guy building a house in the woods from scratch.â he says. you snort, walking all the way to the couch. you donât see the way his eyes rake over your thighs as you sit next to him, at least a foot between you two.
âriveting.â you lean your head back, eyes closing. he does the same, but looks at you instead, mouth open, glossy lashes shifting as he looks you up and down, taking the opportunity while your eyes are closed to linger on the way the skin over your collarbones glows when you sigh, the way your chest shifts under the lace of the slip, your stomach moving with the dress, the way it rides further up your legs as you stretch your arms above your head, then drop them. you turn to look at him. heâs still looking at you, and the tension in the room is buzzing in the air now. and you stare back, shyness fading fast. you run your eyes down him, from the tips of his hair to his strong frame shifting under his shirt to the fuzzy socks covering his feet.Â
âwhat are you staring at?â he whispers, shifting his torso towards you.
ânothing.â you turn away, shrug, fixing your eyes to the tv. he moves closer, as you pretend you donât notice. you had done this before, this dance, this pretending both of you didnât know exactly where it would end.
âhey. what are you fucking staring at?â he says, a little louder.
âshut up or mom will hear you,â you say, breathless, surprised heâs being so forward. wanting to be forward, too, but opting for relishing in satisfaction as he moves closer. heat pools in your lower stomach.
âyou gonna keep me quiet, sweetheart?â he feigns sympathy, feigns sweetness, sneering out the nickname like heâs making fun of you.
âdepends on if youâll keep making noise.â you tilt your head, wet your lips quickly, feeling yourself start to drip. your thin underwear starting to soak through in anticipation.
âi will, actually, cause i know what you like.â his eyes dart to your chest, braless, shown off with how youâre sitting. he knows itâs unintentional; and it makes you even harder to look away from. your arms are crossed and youâre focusing on the tv, but the buzz in the air is louder, as he leans into you, moving closer so his arm is pressed to yours. you try to ignore his breath on your neck, trying to pretend you donât care. you fix your mindset to the one you had as a child. you trust him, heâs your brother, he would never hurt you. and even though itâs icky to think the word âbrotherâ as he kisses your pulse point, it also made you ache with need. he was your brother. who else mattered?
âyou know this is wrong,â you start to say, as he licks a spot on your jaw, making your words dissolve into a gasp.
âare you asking me to stop?â he murmurs into your hair, placing an open-mouthed kiss under your ear, and nipping at it when you begin to reply. âfuck, you smell so good.âÂ
âno, i - ah - no.â you say shakily.
âno? then be quiet.âÂ
there it was. you were wondering when he was gonna stop being so nice. he twists his hands around your thighs and hoists you onto him so youâre straddling him on the couch, in one strong motion. you almost came right there. he grins up at you, running his hands from your thighs all the way up your sides, to  under your arms, slipping the top of your dress down, tracing over your exposed chest and squeezing lightly before they came to rest on your hips.Â
âthere you are,â he breathes out softly.
you look down at him, wide-eyed, wondering how you got there so fast. you inhaled sharply as you felt him adjust you, and suddenly you felt his length poking your core, perfectly nestled against you. he runs his hands up your back and presses you to him, sucking at your collarbone and kissing a trail up your jaw, leaving wet, sensitive spots.Â
âŠand then he rolls his hips up, and you let out an almost pornographic moan. he hisses in response, both to your noise and to your heat tracing his. you look down at him, shocked. he grips the back of your hair, pulling hard, and you wince. he punctuates with another roll of his hips as he brings his lips to your ear. you whimper, helpless.
âyou better shut the fuck up right now or iâll stop. you hear me?âÂ
you nod fast. you feel one big hand grip your hip, squeezing, pushing down as he moves his own up, and the other hand wanders, well, everywhere.Â
you almost canât take it. you can feel his length hitting your clit perfectly every time you move, this delicious intensity that builds the harder you grind. you get frustrated, chasing it yourself, and he brings a hand sharply to your throat, using the other to still your hips.
âstop that, alright? i got it.â he grits out. âfuck.â
âwhat did i just say? be quiet. god, you canât follow some simple fucking directions.â you hear his tone soften on the last word as you bring a hand up to cup his face, to kiss his forehead and muffle a particularly loud whimper in his hair. he smiles in spite of himself, his girl, his little sister. his pace quickens at that last thought. but his thoughts turn cold again as you let out a hiccupy moan, dropping your head forward apologetically.
ââm sorry, i just-â you start. he lets out a low groan at the sound of your voice and pins a hand over your mouth. your eyes close and your head falls back at the feel of his rough hand over your mouth paired with the rough pace of his hips, still tracing almost inside you with the thinness of the fabric between you.
âshut. up. theyâll hear you, and if they do, weâll never be doing this again.â
he buries his face in you, biting down on the place where your neck and shoulders meet. his hand is still firmly clamped onto your face, where your sounds are muffled. the feeling is getting louder, the haze around your head burning, the pressure in your core building, threatening to burst as he hits your clit juuust right again, and again. and he feels it, feeling of you fluttering against him, the vibrations of your sounds against his hand, the grind of your hips pressed flush against his. he feels himself losing control, his pace faltering, and he tugs on the back of your hair again to bring your face to his. he kisses you, short and sweet, before stopping.
âno, no,â you whisper, trying to move, but he locks an arm around your waist and stills you roughly. you were so close, and god, he doesnât want to stop either, but he wants to save it. youâve got all night.
âi know, but if we keep going, weâre both gonna come, and itâs too soon.â he whispers, reaching down to drag his nails up your legs, trying to distract from how painfully hard he is. meanwhile youâre squirming, whimpering as quietly as you can, pressing your hips down. you can feel the wet spot in your underwear.
âyou soaked through my pajama pants. wow.â he raises his eyebrows at you.
âshut up.â you bite out, but thereâs no real weight behind it, because youâre fondly tracing his lean torso with your hands, leaning your front to his, and start kissing his neck. youâre surrounded with the smell of bergamot and musk just like you pictured, but under it is the smell of him, that older boy smell, and itâs so good. your mouth traces the middle of his collarbone, the stubble around his pulse point, the smooth expanse under his ear, moaning into the skin. you kiss the corner of his mouth in a moment of tenderness, and then kiss his lips. youâre wrenched from it, though, as he grabs and flips you so youâre lying long ways on the couch. heâs braced above you and balances on his knees and elbows, and when he kisses you again, itâs deeper. a hand finds your hair, slips down to your back. you press your hand again to his front, slipping them under the seam of his shirt, his chest smooth and firm under your fingers. the other one dips below the seam of his pants, into the waistband of his boxers. he whimpers lowly.
âhah- shit, donât do that. so impatient, itâs impolite.â his hand finds yours, playing with his waistband, and places it on his side, where you immediately pull him to you so his length is pressed against your pelvic bone again. you sigh, but he rears back again.
âif you donât fucking wait, iâll get up and leave right now.â he warns, but still wrestles down his pants and boxers with one hand, revealing himself to you. before you can react, reach for it, he dips a hand in your underwear, running a finger up your slit. your clit jumps at the feeling, your hole clenching around nothing, desperate. you hide your face in his chest to avoid making a sound.
âoh my god. youâre so wet.â he laughs cruelly. âall this from a little grinding?âÂ
âyou canât be talking. youâre so har- ah,â you trail off as you feel his tip against your clit, slick with his arousal and your own wetness. he fake-pouts.
âwhat?â he pushes harder, enjoying your reactions. âwhat were you saying?â
you only moan quietly in response. he grins and lowers himself closer to your face to kiss you, drinking the sounds right out of you as he taps your clit again.
âyeah, thatâs what i fucking thought.â he goes quiet then, his brows furrowing. when he pushes an inch inside of you, you gasp, looking at him. his eyes focus on yours and you swear his pupils dilate. he keeps going, filling you, half-curses and pet names and raspy breaths leaving his lips. your nails are clenching his biceps that you feel flexing as he moves, back, forth, back, forth. once his hips are pressed flush against yours again and heâs all the way inside, he rubs up to grind your swollen clit against the scruffy patch of hair at his base. his dick shifts inside of you, and you clench down on him.
âfuck!â you yelp, almost as a sob. he exhales shakily.
âgripping me so fucking tight, shit,â he says almost to himself, dragging his hips back and snapping them to yours again. âgod, fuck.â he squeezes his eyes shut as you drag a hand up his arm to his back, pressing him into you further. you wrap your legs loosely around him as he begins to rock back and forth, hitting that spot each time, the sounds of him inside you wet and obscene. you try not to make noise for fear heâll slow down, but you fail, and various noises and moans fall out of you involuntarily. he presses his forehead to yours and studies your face, the wet hair framing your flushed cheeks, the tears collecting on your waterline, your lips swollen and pink. when his name comes out of your mouth, he reaches down above you to brace his hands on the arm of the couch. using his new leverage, he thrusts harder. Jesus almighty.Â
âi love you, i love you, i-â you babble, your lips on his neck, your hand tugging on the seam of his shirt, wandering his bare stomach, grabbing his base.
âgod, youâre a little pervert, arenât you?â he whispers, voice breaking with small moans and curses. your face heats up, but you reach down to rub your clit anyway. he grins, chain swinging back and forth, sweat in his hairline.
ângh- if iâm a pervert, what does that make you?â you say, loosening your grip on him. he drops his smile and raises his eyebrows, picking up his pace, and you yelp, clinging to him tighter, sucking on his adamâs apple and kissing down his chest to avoid his eyes. you rubbed harsh circles on your clit faster.
âyou fucking liked that, and itâs because you know iâm right. stop hiding, fucking look at me,â he grits out roughly, the muscles in his back and arms moving under your hand, melting into your touch despite himself. you meet his eyes, and the fuck-drunk look in them is enough to make your walls flutter around him. when you clench down, he groans, loud and long, the sound going straight to your core. he slips out of you for the third time as he goes a little harder and your tits bounce from the force.
âgod, youâre so wet, ah, what the fuck is wrong with you?â he braces himself on his elbows again, opting for a drag of his hips instead of a thrust. you move your hand as his base rubs against your clit, and the smell of him envelops you again. you settle a hand on the back of his head, and he melts into you, his chest pressed flush to yours. you feel him lick a stripe up your neck, tasting the sweat there, tasting you, and his moan that vibrates through you.
ââm gonna come soon, baby. gonna knock you up,â he pants, his chain swinging erratically. your eyes widen at the words and he laughs at your futile attempts to get him off, gripping weakly at his biceps, pushing at his chest.
âno, donât- shit, just pull out!â you whine at him, clenching harder. he fakes a pout at you, and you feel him twitching inside of you as his pace grows less rhythmic. he slows a little, going harder, the sounds of your bodies meeting slick and heavy. your arousal is all over both of you.
âdonât worry, i wonât come until you do. so hurry it up, câmon,â he urges. the sweltering heat of the house, the mix of fluids and breath, your limbs tangling together, the sound of his voice, itâs all too much, and youâre so close.
âwhatâs it gonna take? ah, gonna have to remind you whoâs dick this is? that our parents are sleeping right there? you fucking perv, you thought i wouldnât notice you eyeing me at dinner? and youâre so- mmfuuckk,â he curses, losing his last sentence as you clench around him. you come hard with your arms draped around his shoulders, your hips bucking up, whimpering please into his neck.
âshit, baby, thatâs it, keep- yeah, yes, you got it, come on,â he streamed out, talking you through your orgasm as he continued to snap his hips to yours.
when he comes, itâs with a groan of your name, spilling himself in ropes inside of you. the sounds as he thrusted getting wetter, your thighs getting stickier, his mouth getting dirtier as he let out a stream of sharp curses. your hands tighten around his back, feeling him shake, and then twitch and soften inside of you. he drops himself from his elbows, his hands settling firmly on your sides as his head drops into the crook of your neck. his lashes tickle your skin and he plants a small kiss on your chest. surprised by his softness, you trace lines with your nails on his back and scratch his scalp with your other hand. he sighs and you feel him collapse further into you, his weight reassuring. heâs still inside of you as you drape a blanket over the two of you and turn off the tv.Â
âyeah, youâre a perv, but youâre my perv, isnât that right?â he says sleepily, grinning when you swat him. he knows heâs right when your hands settle against him again and you drift off to sleep together.
20 minutes later, your mom comes out of her room to go to the bathroom. she smiles softly seeing you two cuddled together, asleep on the couch, even if there is a weird smell in the airâŠ
a/n: this is my first time writing something like this!!! open to reqs or anything!
