Work Text:
You look at the screen of the laptop open in front of you. Two and a half years you've been on this journey with no access to any kind of internet. You sort of doubt it matters, anyways, because Earth's internet was destroyed when the planet got pelted with meteors. Oh well.
Thankfully, the computer itself still works along with anything you already had installed to run offline. Your applications for mastering your sick ass beats and dope rhymes are still one hundred percent usable.
Midway through polishing up an instrumental track (though let's be honest this whole musical operation is just polishing things up), you hear a loud and uneven knock on your door. You run through a list of who it could be. Terezi? No, she was drunk on that awful soda last you saw her, she'd be too hungover to move much now. Karkat? Nah, he'd be asleep right now. Kanaya? She only bothers you while you're hanging out with everyone. Gamzee never makes himself known, and The Mayor does his own thing when you're not working on Can Town. That just leaves-
Your thoughts are interrupted as the door opens. The blonde standing in the open doorway, it seems, has gotten tired of waiting. She's slumped up against the frame and she has a dopey smile on her face. There is a mostly empty bottle of that shit she's been alchemizing dangling from her fingertips.
"Greetings, Mr. Srrider." Her words are slurred, and it looks like she makes an attempt to move from the doorway, but her legs are too weak to do it properly so she just falls back to it. She gives a little wave and giggles.
You sigh. "Rose, you're drunk off your fuckin' ass, what are you doing here?" You take off your headphones, placing them gently on the table, and step closer to the open door. She takes the opportunity to "walk" towards you. She just falls into you and lands against your chest.
"What, whatteber could giv yuo that imrpession, my dear brothre?" She smiles up at your face. Rose is short, maybe 5'3. You're about half a foot taller, which is a noticeable difference for scenarios like this. Though you're not all that sure what kind of scenario this classifies as.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you can't stand on your own?" She giggles more and, as if on cue, slumps against you with most of her weight. She's heavy enough to nearly knock you down, though you have a feeling that speaks more to your lack of musculature than her weight. "Jesus H. Dick, come on, sit down."
"Heheh, okayyy. Good hting I have shuch a big storng brothder to take care of meeeee." Her smile is large and directed towards you as you steer her towards your bed, the only place in your room with space enough for the two of you to sit next to each other.
You sit her down by herself, and then walk to the table you keep the equipment for your beats on. "Noooo, Dave wherere yuo goin?" You close the laptop and switch off the rest of your machines. It looks like a mess when you're done with it, but hey, what's it matter?
"Calm your tits Rose, I'll be right back just switching some stuff off. Look, I'm walking back as we speak. See, and now I'm sitting down right next to you and oh damn yep, there's your head leaned on my shoulder for some reason? Rose, what are you doing?"
She looks up at you, her big lavender eyes squinted against the light. Most of the other rooms on the meteor are dark all the time, but it's helpful to have the lights on when a pair of sick, authentic movie memorabilia shades are a part of your daily wear. Sure make it hard to see shit in the dark sometimes.
"Nooothing." The hand still holding the bottle of that moonshine crap she made repositions itself, balancing the bottle on her thigh. She smiles again, and turns her head away from you. She puts her unoccupied hand on your thigh to steady herself as she moves to take another swig.
"Hey, no," you interject. You captchalogue the bottle out of her hands right as it reaches her lips. "Dude, you're wasted already, this is like the express route to liver failure at the ripe old age of 15."
"Nuh uhhhhh." She replies eloquently as she slumps over and lands on your lap. "That woodn't habben to me, cuz. Cuz I amma god tier and assumin that dyin of a liver failer izn heroic or jus I should be fiiiine. I can't die of mos things."
"Well, yeah, but just cause you wouldn't die from it doesn't mean that you wouldn't still have it. Be sufferin' and shit."
"Wellll, yood take care a me right Dave?" She smiles up at you from her spot against your thighs. "Yunnow when I'm sick an all. From the liver failer."
You think you're starting to get the weirdest hard-on. You squirm uncomfortably, and Rose notices.
"What, scared a bein to clsoe to yor sisser?" she slurs. "Oooooor mabe yor'e jus dealinb with the oedipush compleksh we know you hav."
"Whoa, Rose, no. No way man." You sweat a little at the mention and think you begin to feel slick against your underwear. You do manage to get mini boners from the amount of bottom growth you've gotten from the testosterone you figured out how to alchemize. Rose made estrogen for herself, and now you feel even more uncomfortable with this beautiful blonde girl in your lap because you're thinking about what the E has done to her body and it is turning you right the fuck on.
"-an how I repruhsen your own moder becuz of me lookin like her an its only doubbeld by the fac that I an her partake in the same likquidzh. I am bashcually yor Froodean mom Dabe. I mean Dave."
You're moving around, trying to find a good position that doesn't ache with wanting Rose, your sister, and it has finally disturbed her enough to make her move. She sits up and goes about the process of standing, almost falling, and walking so that she stands in front of you. You forget to try to stop her because you were too busy watching her. And you only realize how stupid that sounds after you've already thought and done it.
She tries to put her hands on your shoulders and push you back onto the bed, but she's not strong enough. Instead she opts to sit on your lap, straddling your hips with her knees perched on the bed next to you, and the feeling of the bulge between her legs right up against your stomach.
"Uh, Rose?"
"Yeah?" The dopey smile that seems ever present still shines on her black-painted lips.
"What are you doing?"
"Well," she begins, taking one hand and placing it on your side, working its way up under your shirt. You're getting nervous. "I wahs thinkin. Sinsh yuo're so big on your mommy," she continues to draw out what she's saying, using her other hand to fumble with the drawstring at the front of your god tier pajamas, "I thought I coul be the mommy you wan so mcuh. Shur is not quite accurate to our relashunshpsip but its close enough to work."
You are madly uncomfortable with all of this, the entire scenario, yet you can't seem to bring yourself to stop it. It feels like it's a nightmare and a dream come to life, both torturous and blissful. What if you just let it happen? What if you do whatever she wants to do tonight, kiss, fuck, who cares. Just do it and then if she's gone back to normal in the
Dave, are youo lissenin to mee?
morning, then you just move on with your life and forget about it. Hey, at
Daaaavevveveveee,, if you don say somthin to lemme knwo your lissenin I'm gonna
least you got to try it once and you can always relive the memory if you ever get an itch for more. The concept of the freaky sibling stuff, the fantasies at least, isn't really new to you. You wonder if you're just uncomfortable with this because of all the touch? You're definitely not used to that. But, most realistically it might be both. Then again, what do you know about any of this psychobabblery? The girl who knows about that has just leaned forward and stuck her tongue in your mouth to get your attention. Wait, what?
You realize that Rose's face is right up against yours. You jolt back to your body, taking control of your tongue which had just been laying limp while she'd been kissing you up until this point. You're not sure she minded the limpness. You can tell that she's too drunk to be a good kisser at the moment.
Fuck it. This is probably a one-time opportunity, and no one has to find out about it. Who knows, maybe Rose won't even remember in the morning. Then again, that would also blow. You want her to remember your awesome sibling whateverthefuck.
You put your arms around her back and lay down against the bed, pulling her and her hands and her tongue with you. Her tongue is sloppy and there is saliva all over your mouth and chin and you wouldn't be surprised if there was a little up your nose. Rose is enjoying herself though, and you are too.
The girl eating your face whole removes the hand that had been holding onto your side, reaching for where one of your arms sits wrapped around her. She moves it to be over the outline of her chest, which you imagine as sensitive and puffy from her estrogen.
You feel her mouth morph into a smile with your tongue. You never said you were doing a much less sloppy job than she was, it's not like you'd ever done it before.
You take the clue, and move your hand down to the underside of her shirt, grabbing it and pulling it off over her head. She pulls back her face and the hand from its spot at the front of your crotch. She had been trying to untie your pants, but it seems she was too drunk to accomplish it. You didn't know how to tell her that your dick wasn't actually getting anything, but it was still hot. You toss the shirt somewhere to be rediscovered later.
You force your faces apart long enough to check out what she's got going on. Your mental image wasn't too far off. Her dark skin, ashy from the lack of natural light and a reminder of her time spent grimdark, is covered in patches of little tiny goosebumps from the ever-present cold of the meteor. Her tits are small, still works in progress, but that doesn't stop you from salivating over them a little bit. You can't see her nipples, they're covered by a lacy black bra. You have no idea where she got that thing or why she would've worn it if this hadn't been premeditated sex. Which means she had to have at least drunk planned it. That makes you feel a little more confident about doing the whole "making out with your sister" thing.
She gets antsy and squirms around on top of you after only a few seconds of waiting for you to take in the sights.
"Can I…," you begin to ask, reaching up to cup her right breast, sliding it around to the backside where the hooks used to keep it on are. You don't have to finish the question for her to nod and smile in agreement. You smile back, confident and excited.
The frilly, black garment falls loose, and you pull it off around her arms. Her nipples are pink and puffy and covered in little bumps. They don't look anything like the ones you've seen in porn. They are imperfect. But they're beautiful and you have a hand all over them, running your fingertips across them, holding these intimate parts of none other than your sister, and being so fucking horny about it. You think your dick will explode if it doesn't get some kind of something soon.
But before you can say anything, Rose has her hand on your chest and back grinding against your crotch, this time hitting a little something. Your hands are on her tits, exploring the soft skin. Your mouths are intertwining again. You wonder if her sick majyyk cephalopod brain is imagining your tongues as tentacles.
Rose has been grinding against you almost this whole time, but her movements are becoming quicker and more sporadic. You feel a warm and wet patch on your thigh where she straddles your legs. You figure it's precum, or some kind of similar fluid. You change your mind when you realize it's still coming, in little spurts, but enough to start to make a large puddle.
You stop moving for a minute. Another jet of warm fluid, bigger this time.
"Whaaaad Dave why'doo stop is feelin so nice."
"Rose, are you pissing on me?"
She takes a moment of silence, you guess it's to assess her situation and the feelings around her. She's so drunk she has to check to see if she pissed herself. Does making out with someone this inebriated count as sexual assault, y/n?
"Mmmmm yeash I think so Dave."
"Well get off then!" You say, uncomfortable again. You try to push her off of you, but she weighs more and wow drunk girls are dead weight. Another small spurt of liquid.
"No, I don think sho." She is grinning.
She pushes you down flat on your back, holds your wrists above your head as well as she can. You could break your arms loose if you wanted to, but it wouldn't change the fact that she is on top of your torso and heavy and about to piss probably.
She leans down to kiss you again. You try to move away, but she forces her tongue into your mouth and you melt. You think you'd do whatever she wanted as long as she kept your mouths together, exchanging spit.
She pulls away to say one thing, very quickly, before she opens her gates and you're flooded. "Mommies have acshidens too, Dave."
And then you're kissing again and your thighs and legs and crotch and ass are being coated in her urine. Little bits of her soaking into your bed and your clothes and your skin. It feels like the flood is coming for eternity. You don't know what you were so nervous about, that was heavenly.
Once she's finished, you struggle to get, "Wow. That was way hotter than I imagined. Do you wanna uh. I don't know um…," through the wall of squirming tongue.
"Jus say wha you wan Dave I'll prolly do it."
"Can I suck on your tits while you finger me? Like, I know that sounds so weird but um. It's okay cause you're the one doin the whole ironic mommy shtick right? Or did I misread that am I the weird one? Jesus fuck uh…."
She smiles and tells you to untie your pants. You obey immediately.
Before you can completely process what's happened, her fingers are clumsily stretching open your virgin hole. It hurts like a motherfucker, but you've felt worse and it's too sexually charged of a situation to ask her to stop. Plus, your mouth is completely full of sistertit.
Your tongue is exploring all the same places your hands did, except you can't tear it away for even a second. You are licking ravenously at her body, feeling all the perfect curves and bumps and spots and hairs.
Her fingers are bumping into bundles of nerves inside of you, so sensitive that they're sending shocks of fire through your entire body. You're not sure if you're convulsing or just pulsating, but the feeling is overwhelmingly intense. She was good enough to make you so wet you didn't need any additional lube. You're floating in bliss and you want to disintegrate from the ecstasy electrically charging the air around you.
You think you come, and your body gives out in a grand display of falling apart. You fall back away from her chest, longing for more but too empty headed to feel much of it. You lay on your back a moment. You had sex with your sister.
"Thank you," you croak out. It's all you can think to say.
Rose lays down next to you and curls up against your chest. She smiles big and tells you you're welcome.
You almost say you love her. You almost ask if she wants to keep the incest party going tomorrow. You almost ask her if she'll even remember this.
She snores in response to all the questions you're dancing around in your mind, and you take it as a sign to ignore that you're laying on your bed sideways and just go to sleep.
You shut your eyes, and drift off into the most peaceful sleep you've had in a long time.