Damon & Vale

The jacuzzi pool party outside carried on without them, Abigail’s laughter mixing with the splash of water and music as her friends circled the tub. Inside the guest room, the air felt heavier, the door barely shut behind the three of you. Damon stood frozen for a beat after the words landed, his face draining like he’d taken a real hit.

“You what?” The revelation stung, as if he was hit by a truck to the point that Damon’s heart stopped. The jacuzzi pool party outside forgotten where Abigail was having fun with her friends.

“Dude, you seriously... You seriously fucked {{user}}— your sister?” He asked. Because of the silence, it felt like his voice echoed in the small room.

Then he turned to look at you. “And you... You were okay with it? He’s fucking engaged.” He asks, the pain in his voice was evident. He didn't know what it meant, why you both confessed to him about this.

“Do you.. do you love Vale? What about me then?” He asked, hopeful but then he made a remark, a low voice but enough to make you hear because he was hurt and he wants you to know it. “What a fucking slut.”

Vale then snapped and grabbed Damon’s shirt. “No. You don’t get to call my sister that, Damon.”

“Why not? Isn't it true? Who fucks their sibling? Plus, I don't think she hates it.” He barked.

“Step. We’re not related.” Vale defended, then pushed Damon away, which caused him to fix his shirt.

“Right. You're not.” Damon chuckled bitterly and then he shakes his head. “This is crazy, I thought I was only imagining it. I noticed the way you look at {{user}}.” He then looked at you, his anger seemingly calmed down just a bit so he approached you without another word and kissed you, passionate, angry even. Trying to get a rise of Vale, he wasn't sure. He just wanted to stake a claim on you.

Vale was stunned, hurt, but it dissipates just as fast. And he approached you, and from behind, he kisses the back of your neck.

Damon pulled back, and then looks at Vale. “Shameless. Are we really doing this?” Then he turned to look at you, then leaned in to kiss your chin, down to your jaw.

“I want her, man.” He confessed, guilty but still confessed because he doesn't want Damon to have you to himself. Sick but he can deal with it than having nothing at all.

Damon scoffed, sucked and bit your jaw and licked it to ease the sting. “Your fucking fiancée is outside and you wanna fuck your sister. You're the worst...” He then looked at you. “...but if she’s okay with it then...” He then kissed your mouth again while Vale’s hand snaked from behind you, his fingers rubbing against your belly.

Vale stayed pressed close from behind, his chest warm against your back, lips trailing slow along the nape of your neck before he spoke low near your ear. “She knows what she wants,” he muttered, the words half to Damon, half to the air. His fingers traced lazy circles just above the waistband of whatever you had on, not pushing further, just resting there like he was waiting for the next move.

Damon broke the kiss only long enough to glare at Vale over your shoulder, eyes narrowed. “This is fucked up,” he said, voice hoarse. “You know that, right? Engaged to Abigail, playing house with your own step-sister, and now dragging me into it.” But he didn’t pull away. Instead he leaned back in, mouth finding the line of your throat this time, teeth grazing lightly before he sucked a mark just below your jaw. “I came back here thinking maybe I had a shot. Turns out I’m late to the party.”

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The jacuzzi pool party outside carried on without them, Abigail’s laughter mixing with the splash of water and music as her friends circled the tub. Inside the guest room, the air felt heavier, the door barely shut behind the three of you. Damon stood frozen for a beat after the words landed, his face draining like he’d taken a real hit.

“You what?” The revelation stung, as if he was hit by a truck to the point that Damon’s heart stopped. The jacuzzi pool party outside forgotten where Abigail was having fun with her friends.

“Dude, you seriously... You seriously fucked {{user}}— your brother?” He asked. Because of the silence, it felt like his voice echoed in the small room.

Then he turned to look at you. “And you... You were okay with it? He’s fucking engaged.” He asks, the pain in his voice was evident. He didn't know what it meant, why you both confessed to him about this.

“Do you.. do you love Vale? What about me then?” He asked, hopeful but then he made a remark, a low voice but enough to make you hear because he was hurt and he wants you to know it. “What a fucking slut.”

Vale then snapped and grabbed Damon’s shirt. “No. You don’t get to call my brother that, Damon.”

“Why not? Isn't it true? Who fucks their sibling? Plus, I don't think he hates it.” He barked.

“Step. We’re not related.” Vale defended, then pushed Damon away, which caused him to fix his shirt.

“Right. You're not.” Damon chuckled bitterly and then he shakes his head. “This is crazy, I thought I was only imagining it. I noticed the way you look at {{user}}.” He then looked at you, his anger seemingly calmed down just a bit so he approached you without another word and kissed you, passionate, angry even. Trying to get a rise out of Vale, he wasn't sure. He just wanted to stake a claim on you.

Vale was stunned, hurt, but it dissipates just as fast. And he approached you, and from behind, he kisses the back of your neck.

Damon pulled back, and then looks at Vale. “Shameless. Are we really doing this?” Then he turned to look at you, then leaned in to kiss your chin, down to your jaw.

“I want him, man.” He confessed, guilty but still confessed because he doesn't want Damon to have you to himself. Sick but he can deal with it than having nothing at all.

Damon scoffed, sucked and bit your jaw and licked it to ease the sting. “Your fucking fiancée is outside and you wanna fuck your brother. You're the worst...” He then looked at you. “...but if he’s okay with it then...” He then kissed your mouth again while Vale’s hand snaked from behind you, his fingers rubbing against your belly.

Vale stayed pressed close from behind, his chest warm against your back, lips trailing slow along the nape of your neck before he spoke low near your ear. “He knows what he wants,” he muttered, the words half to Damon, half to the air. His fingers traced lazy circles just above the waistband of whatever you had on, not pushing further, just resting there like he was waiting for the next move.

Damon broke the kiss only long enough to glare at Vale over your shoulder, eyes narrowed. “This is fucked up,” he said, voice hoarse. “You know that, right? Engaged to Abigail, playing house with your own stepbrother, and now dragging me into it.” But he didn’t pull away. Instead he leaned back in, mouth finding the line of your throat this time, teeth grazing lightly before he sucked a mark just below your jaw. “I came back here thinking maybe I had a shot. Turns out I’m late to the party.”

The private family trip had been planned as one last getaway before Vale’s wedding, a quiet stretch of beach days and dinners with his parents.

Damon had been invited along since he was still crashing at the house. The afternoon sun baked the sand while the parents lounged farther down the shore with drinks and books.

Damon noticed Vale’s gaze lingering a little too long on the bikini, the way it hugged every curve like it was made for trouble.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re staring at,” Damon said, voice low but edged with that same old possessiveness.

Vale didn’t look away. “She’s my stepsister, dude. She’s mine too.”

Damon rolled his eyes and reached for you, steering the both of you toward the outdoor shower tucked behind the villa’s side wall. The water hissed on as he backed into the tiled space, mouth already finding yours in a deep, urgent kiss that tasted like salt and the beer he’d been nursing. His hands framed your face, thumbs brushing along your jaw while the spray soaked through his shirt.

Vale’s footsteps followed a moment later, the curtain rustling. “Nice try, Damon. Won’t miss it.” He pulled you toward him instead, turning the angle so your chest met his.

“My sister is fucking hot, right?” His lips caught yours next, slower but no less hungry, and his fingers hooked under the bikini top to lift it, palms sliding over your breasts with a firm squeeze that made his breath hitch against your mouth.

“You sick fuck,” Damon muttered, dropping to his knees on the wet tiles. He eased the bottoms down and spread your cheeks, tongue dragging in one long, deliberate stroke along your slit before he settled in, lapping with focused pressure. The water from the shower head pattered over his shoulders, running in rivulets down his back.

Vale kept his hands busy, thumbs circling over your nipples as he watched over your shoulder. “Gotta be careful, little mutt. Mom and Dad might hear, okay?”

The private family trip had been planned as one last getaway before Vale’s wedding — a quiet stretch of beach days and dinners with their parents.

Damon had been invited along since he was still crashing at the house. The afternoon sun baked the sand while their parents lounged farther down the shore with drinks and books.

Damon noticed Vale’s gaze lingering a little too long on your swim trunks, the way the thin fabric clung to your body.

“That’s my boyfriend you’re staring at,” Damon said, voice low but edged with that same old possessiveness.

Vale didn’t look away. “He’s my stepbrother, dude. He’s mine too.”

Damon rolled his eyes and reached for you, steering you toward the outdoor shower tucked behind the villa’s side wall. The water hissed on as he backed into the tiled space, mouth already finding yours in a deep, urgent kiss that tasted like salt and the beer he’d been nursing. His hands framed your face, thumbs brushing along your jaw while the spray soaked through his shirt.

Vale’s footsteps followed a moment later, the curtain rustling. “Nice try, Damon. Won’t miss it.” He pulled you toward him instead, turning the angle so your chest met his.

“My brother is fucking hot, right?” His lips caught yours next, slower but no less hungry, and his fingers hooked under the waistband of your swim trunks, tugging them down just enough to free you. His palm wrapped around your cock with a firm stroke that made his breath hitch against your mouth.

“You sick fuck,” Damon muttered, dropping to his knees on the wet tiles. He pulled your trunks the rest of the way down, spread your cheeks, and dragged his tongue in one long, deliberate stroke over your asshole. He licked and teased the tight ring of muscle with focused hunger, circling and pressing before pushing his tongue inside. The water from the shower head pattered over his shoulders, running in rivulets down his back.

Vale kept his hands busy, one stroking you while the other gripped your hip, thumbs pressing into your skin as he watched over your shoulder. “Gotta be careful, little mutt. Mom and Dad might hear, okay?”