#she looks so friend-shaped… so cute… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunsburns · 3 months ago

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forget it — joaquín torres (marvel) !

⟢ synopsis. request: reuniting with ex!joaquín after his near death experience, but you’re the nurse assigned to his care after he gets out of surgery. you broke up a couple years ago because of your very demanding careers, and you don’t see him until you realize they put YOU on babysitting duty to nurse him back to health, yikes!

⟢ contains. spoilers for brave new world! joaquín torres x nurse!reader, so much angst you’re gonna want to block me!! mentions of death, blood, gore, possible inaccurate medical procedures (i am not a nurse idk how that works), open ending but it's honestly realistic and cute.

⟢ word count. 13.7k+

⟢ author’s note. i learned medical terms for this

You like to think that every decision you’ve made has shaped you into the best version of yourself.

A better student, a better nurse, a better person. You’ve spent years honing your skills, pushing yourself past limits, ensuring that when it matters most, you’ll be capable—prepared. You might not have superpowers, enhanced genes, or combat training, but you have your mind, your steady hands, your patience. That’s what makes a difference in the field you’ve chosen. That’s what saves lives.

And it’s paid off. You don’t work at just any hospital—you work at this one. A private facility that caters to soldiers, government agents, and the kind of people who make headlines when things go wrong. The kind of people who disappear into classified reports. The kind of people you don’t expect to see lying unconscious under your care.

But you love your job. You love the structure of it, the control. You love the fact that, in a world constantly spinning off its axis, you can still do something that makes sense. You have your patients, your colleagues, your friends, your family. You still go out when you can, still make time to shop, and still remember to water your plants. Life is steady. Good.

And yet—

There’s something missing.

It creeps in during the quiet moments, when the hospital halls are still, and the steady beep of a heart monitor is the only thing filling the silence. It lingers in the space between breaths, in the pause before you check a chart, in the phantom weight of something you can’t quite name. A presence that once was, or maybe never was, but should have been.

You have everything you’ve ever worked for. So why does it still feel like something’s missing?

You don’t let yourself dwell on it. It’s ridiculous. You have your health. You have your life.

And you know better than anyone how fragile both of those things can be.

You remind yourself of how lucky you are because you’ve seen the alternative too many times. Lives wrecked and ruined by things far beyond anyone’s control. You’ve watched the light fade from seven pairs of eyes. Seven people who didn’t make it. Seven moments that carved themselves into your memory, no matter how hard you try to forget.

You haven’t even been working for three years.

And yet—

You’d hate to see the day when someone you love is one of them.

The thought grips you too tightly, too suddenly, and you only realize you’ve been staring at your hands under the running faucet when the sound of your name cuts through the fog.

“Look what I made!”

You blink, water still rushing over your fingertips, skin already pruning. A slow exhale leaves you as you reach for the faucet, shutting off the tap. The chill lingers on your skin even as you tear a paper towel from the dispenser, crumpling in your damp grip as you turn.

Maria is sitting up in bed, dark eyes bright with excitement as she holds out a carefully folded piece of olive-green paper.

She beams at you, her small fingers cradling the delicate shape with a reverence that makes your heartache. It takes a second for recognition to click. An origami bird.

“What’s this?” you coo, stepping closer.

Maria is a few weeks shy of nine. She should be at home planning her birthday party, picking out a cake, laughing with friends. Instead, she’s here. Confined to this sterile room, surrounded by too-white walls and the soft beeping of machines monitoring the inexplicable changes in her body. She isn’t dying. But she isn’t getting better, either.

Exposure to some strange quantum disturbance in San Francisco had led to her transfer here, to Washington, under your care. Away from reporters, away from speculation, away from anyone who might pry too closely while the government tries to figure out what happened to her.

“It’s a bird. Like the one on TV.” She explains, her tiny fingers carefully adjusting the wings.

You glance at the television, expecting to see another nature documentary—the kind she’s grown fond of in the past few weeks. But when your eyes land on the screen, you freeze.

A news channel. A live interview. Captain America and the Falcon, still in their gear, standing at an Air Force base. The headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen is a blur. Something about a mission. About another near disaster averted.

Falcon stands just behind Captain America, posture sharp, hands clasped loosely in front of him, expression serious but composed. His suit still bears the scuffs of combat, a faint tear along the armoured plating at his ribs. You wonder if it hurts. If he’s bleeding. If he even let anyone check.

A small huff leaves your lips before you can stop it.

You can’t remember the last time you saw him. Now, here he is again, on a screen in a hospital room, larger than life.

“You like superheroes, Maria?” You force a lighter tone, turning back to her, moving to check her monitors. It’s unnecessary—you already did this when you came in—but it gives your hands something to do.

“You like superheroes, Maria?” you ask, forcing a lighter tone as you move to check her monitors. It’s unnecessary—you already did this when you came in—but it gives your hands something to do.

“I love superheroes,” she exclaims, voice full of unshakable certainty.

“Yeah?”

“Yes!”

She watches you closely, studying your face with a look that’s far too perceptive for someone her age. Then, after a beat—

“Who’s your favourite Avenger?”

You pretend to think about it. “Hmmm... I don’t know. Maybe... Hawkeye?”

Maria immediately groans, rolling her eyes so hard it nearly makes you laugh. “That’s so boring!” She throws her arms up in exasperation, nearly tugging her IV loose in the process.

“Hey, hey—“ you reach out, gently taking her hands, steadying her before she can do any real damage. “You’re really gonna judge me for that?”

“So boring,” she insists, her signature sass making an appearance. “My mom likes Thor because he has big muscles.”

You snort. “Wow. Okay. And what about you?”

Maria’s expression turns mischievous, blushing slightly as she glances back at the screen.

“The Falcon.”

The words land like a punch to the ribs.

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat stays put. You should have seen it coming, the way she lit up at the sight of him on TV, but it still catches you off guard.

Because for Maria, it’s admiration.

For you, it’s something else entirely.

“He’s so cool,” you manage, your voice lighter than you feel. “I don’t think he’s an Avenger, though.”

Unless he is and you have missed that entire chapter of his life. A lot had happened in the last few years—you wouldn’t put it past him to just forget to mention something like that. Not that either of you were on speaking terms anyway.

Maria grins, a small, mischievous thing, and before you can move, she takes your hand in hers and presses something into your palm.

“Here.”

You glance down.

The bird.

You blink at the delicate folds of olive-green paper, the slight tilt of its wings. It’s small, fits perfectly in your hand, but somehow, it feels heavier than it should.

“You have it.”

You open your mouth—to tell her she should keep it, that it’s hers—but the words never leave your throat. The sincerity in her gaze keeps you quiet, so instead, you close your fingers carefully around the paper bird, holding it like something fragile.

“Thank you, Maria,” you say softly.

You still have the bird.

It sits on your nightstand even now, weeks later, its delicate folds untouched, a reminder of that small moment. Of Maria.

You hadn’t thought much about that conversation at the time. Maria’s gift had been sweet, and you had found it endearing—the kind of innocent kindness that children offered so easily.

It wasn’t every day you cared for someone so young in this hospital, and while that was a blessing, it didn’t make it any easier when that child was rolled in on a stretcher.

And it wasn’t until a week later that you remembered Maria’s words.

Not until you watched a familiar face get wheeled into the hospital.

You had heard about it first—on the news, in passing conversations between coworkers. Another mission. Another near-tragedy. Another casualty.

And then you saw it.

The frantic rush of bodies in the emergency bay. The whine of a helicopter’s rotor blades still echoing through the halls, rattling against the glass doors. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic burning your nose, mixing with the metallic tang of blood—so much blood, too much of it pooling beneath the stretcher, staining the floor, the sheets, the hands of every ER staff trying to keep him together.

Your coworkers moved fast, their voices sharp and urgent as they swarmed the broken, battered body like bees to a collapsing hive. You barely recognized him at first. His suit—scorched in places, torn in others—hung off him in tatters, the once-pristine armour dented and smeared with something dark.

His skin was pale—too pale.

His lips were slightly parted, chest rising and falling in short, uneven gasps like every breath cost him something.

The blur of medical jargon barely registered in your mind, words overlapping, breaking, reforming into pieces that didn’t quite fit together. But certain ones still made it through the haze, lodging themselves somewhere deep inside you, where they twisted like a knife.

“Heart palpitations—“

“Severe burns—“

“Broken arm—“

“Breath is weak—“

“We’re gonna need a defibrillator—“

“Won’t make it to the OR—“

Your heart stuttered.

You would’ve rather never seen Joaquín Torres again for the rest of your life than see him like this. Like that.

And after that, you were moving on autopilot.

The rest of the day blurred together, slipping through your fingers like sand. You went through the motions, nodding when spoken to, keeping your hands busy, but nothing really stuck. The only thing that did was time—how it crawled, stretched, and bled into itself.

One hour turned to two.

Two turned to four.

Four turned into a sharp, sickening pause.

You were just about to punch out for the night, car keys hanging loosely from your fingers when you heard it.

“His heart gave out. Medically dead for T-minus 30 seconds. Extra hands needed.”

You froze.

The words echoed, hollow and distant like they were being spoken underwater. A strange ringing had started in your ears. You weren’t sure if it was real or just something inside your own head—maybe both.

You had already been hesitant about leaving without checking in on him. You could’ve gone in. You had clearance. But you didn’t.

And now?

Now, you were hearing his heart gave out?

Your mind ran ahead of you, filling in the gaps before you could stop it—could almost hear the faint, dull whine of the machines, the inevitable, lifeless flatline.

The surgeon calling out the time of death.

Your own heart lurched violently in your chest.

Your feet were moving before you even made the decision, carrying you faster than you thought possible. You nearly crashed into the doors of the emergency wing, swiping your card into the OR viewing room, stumbling into the dimly lit space. Your breath came short, choppy, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Your eyes locked onto the glass.

And then—

“Clear!”

Joaquín’s body jerked violently, his back arching off the table before collapsing again.

From where you stood, you couldn’t see or hear the monitor. Couldn’t tell if there was a beat or if it was still that awful, empty silence.

“Clear!”

His body seized again, limbs convulsing before falling limp.

You flinched, a breath hitching painfully somewhere inside you.

The panic clawing up your ribs only loosened when you saw the doctors start to relax, their frantic movements easing back into precision. You watched, rooted to the spot, as they worked—saw the ventilator strapped tightly around Joaquín’s face, the way they were cutting into him, the deep burns covering his side.

But it didn’t feel like him.

He looked dead.

He looked so, so dead.

Your fingers dug into the ledge of the viewing window, knuckles white.

And suddenly you can remember the last time you saw him. A memory that grabs you like a vice.

He was so alive, and he was crying.

His eyes were red and bloodshot, but he wasn’t making a sound. Just staring at you, jaw clenched so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grind. His hands—warm, steady even in their trembling—gripped yours, his touch so familiar, so safe. His fingers curled around your palms like he could keep you here just by holding on tight enough. Like if he let go, he knew he would never get to touch you again.

His skin burned beneath your fingertips.

Like home.

But the warmth of him, the heat of his touch, it didn’t reach his eyes. And you knew—God, you knew—this was the last time.

The ring that sat on your finger was like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

You hadn’t even noticed the way your breath had started to shake, the way your shoulders had drawn in like you could shield yourself from what was coming. The weight of his forehead pressing against yours was the only thing keeping you grounded, the rise and fall of his chest meeting yours in a rhythm that was almost enough to trick you into believing, for just a second, that nothing had to change.

And then he pulled away.

It was slow like he was giving you time to stop him. Like he wanted you to stop him.

But neither of you moved.

His fingers ghosted over your left hand, tracing over the ring like he was committing the shape of it to memory. You swore his breath hitched when he touched it, but he didn’t hesitate. Not when he curled his fingers around the band. Not when he gave the gentlest, barely-there tug.

The metal slipped from your skin.

The absence was instant. A phantom weight. A missing limb.

Your breath stilled.

He turned it over in his palm once, twice, before slipping it into his pocket, the movement almost absentminded. Like he wasn’t crumbling apart inside. Like he wasn’t shattering this thing between you both with his own two hands.

And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was desperate. A broken thing—raw, aching, more plea than passion. His lips pressed to yours with the kind of hunger that tasted like regret, like grief, like goodbye. There was no hesitation when his fingers slid up to cradle your jaw, no distance between your bodies when he pulled you in, chests flush, like he was trying to fuse himself to you, trying to rewrite the ending of this moment with the press of his lips alone.

You tasted the salt of tears.

Yours or his, you couldn’t tell.

You felt his hands tremble when they skimmed over your skin. It hurt—fuck, it hurt—the way you knew neither of you wanted to pull away, but you would. You had to.

But you stayed. For a minute. For a breath. Lips lingering, foreheads pressed together, hands gripping tighter even as the seconds slipped away from you both.

He was the first to move.

The absence of his lips was instant—a cold, hollow thing. But he didn’t pull away entirely, not yet. His nose brushed against yours, his fingers curled at the back of your neck, like if he could just stay here for another second, one more second, maybe none of this had to be real.

Then, finally, painfully, he let go.

That kiss was one that lingered, burned, long after he was gone.

He was alive then. And so were you.

But when the door shut, a part of you had died.

And watching his body, motionless on that operating table, you thought maybe a part of him had, too.

It was hard to grieve someone who had never died.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been standing there, staring through the glass, until someone says your name.

Your body jolts, and when you spin around, you're surprised to find Sam Wilson standing a few feet away. His voice had been steady, but his eyes—God, his eyes—heavy with something unspoken, something worn. You wonder how long he’s been there. You think it must’ve been a while, judging by the exhaustion shadowing his face. The bags under his eyes aren’t just from one night of lost sleep.

You’ve met him plenty of times before—hell, you’ve had dinner with the guy on multiple occasions—but something about seeing him now, here, leaves you speechless. Maybe it’s because he’s not just Sam. He’s Captain America, the man Joaquín idolized. And he looks... helpless.

You feel your entire body tense. “Sir—“ Your voice cracks at the word, and you hate it.

Sam exhales, long and slow. “I was gonna call. I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re still the kid’s emergency contact.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I just... I didn’t know what terms you guys were on. I know the breakup was pretty bad and...” He trails off, looking at you like he’s bracing for impact. “I didn’t know if you’d show up.”

“I…” You swallow thickly. You should say something. Anything. But you don’t know how to find the words.

“Were you working?”

You glance down at your scrubs as if you need to confirm it. “Yeah... I just... I heard about his heart, um... how long was he...?”

Sam hesitates. He doesn’t want to say it. But he does. “Two minutes.”

You suck in a breath, sharp and cold, and instinctively look back through the glass. Joaquín is still now, the chaos momentarily subdued. He’s always been restless, always in motion, a man who never seemed to sit still to save his life. And now he’s just... lying there. You feel nauseous.

You don’t know what to say. You think Sam doesn’t either.

“I’m sorry, kid.” His voice is hoarse. “I’m sorry. For Joaquín. I never meant for this to happen. I’m always telling him to be more careful, but you know how he is—”

Do you?

You don’t know how much someone can change in the time you and Joaquín have been apart. You think you still know him. You remember how he used to be—stubborn, hard-headed. Kind, too. Always quick with a response, always teasing. Always warm.

You don’t think you’re remembering him the way Sam asks you to.

“Um... sorry.” You blink, realizing how long you’ve been zoning out. You should say something more. Something meaningful. But your throat is tight, and your hands shake at your sides. Sam looks just as lost as you feel.

“Fuck, sorry,” you mutter, rubbing at your face. “Are you okay?”

Sam blinks. He looks genuinely surprised by the question. “Am I—? Are you okay?”

You nod too fast, stuffing your hands into your back pockets. The heart monitor beeps steadily in the background, grounding you in the moment. “Yeah, I just… You were out there too. Did you get hit? I can check for a concussion.”

Sam says your name, and the way he says it—soft, sad—makes your lip quiver. When he steps forward, you don’t resist. You meet him in the middle, letting him wrap his arms around you, his warmth solid and steady. You tuck your face into his chest, only realizing you’ve been crying when you see the darkened patches on his shirt. He smells like coffee, and—funnily enough—a little bit like Joaquín.

“I’m sorry, kid.” His voice is tight, thick. Like he’s been holding back his own grief for too long.

You hum under his hold. “It’s not your fault,” you say because you think it’s what he needs to hear. You don’t know what happened out there, don’t know who made what call, but Sam relaxes just a fraction at your words. You hug him back.

The hours bleed together after that. You sit with Sam in the waiting area, watching the surgery unfold from a distance. Neither of you leave for long—only to grab coffee, maybe splash cold water on your face—but you don’t sleep. Sam doesn’t either, even when you suggest it. He stays rooted to his chair, jaw clenched, watching the clock.

He doesn’t move until the surgery is almost finished, until the surgeon is finally stitching up Joaquín.

And even then, he stays put.

So do you.

It’s nice, in a way, sitting in this heavy, aching silence. You don’t know what you would’ve done if Sam wasn’t here. You don’t know what he would’ve done if you weren’t.

Sam seems to relax even more when a friend of his shows up—Bucky. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in person before, but you recognize the way Sam’s shoulders loosen just slightly like something fragile inside him can take a break. Bucky nods at you, then at Sam, and without a word, he takes a seat next to him.

You don’t say anything either.

Because you don’t need to.

For the first time in hours, Sam exhales like he’s not carrying the world on his shoulders.

You leave only when he urges you to, though it takes less than a minute after Joaquín is sent out for recovery.

You barely remember the drive home. The world outside the hospital blurs past in streaks of streetlights and empty roads, your hands gripping the wheel just a little too tightly. Every red light feels longer than it should, every breath harder to take. By the time you step inside your apartment, exhaustion settles in your bones, but sleep never truly comes. You close your eyes and see glimpses of him—Joaquín on the operating table, still and silent in a way he never should be.

You wake up before the sun rises, restless, your body aching with the kind of fatigue that sleep can’t fix.

By the time you return to the hospital, it’s at a strange hour—too early for the day shift, too late for the night crew. The hospital is caught in that eerie in-between where the halls are too quiet, where the few people still moving about do so in hushed voices. The fluorescent lights overhead hum, stark and artificial against the pale blue of the walls.

You’re running on espresso shots and the growing pit in your stomach, a weight that presses heavier with every step.

Joaquín is here. You know that. You have known that for almost twenty-four hours now.

But the thought still makes your hands cold. It was easier when you didn’t know what State he was in, or what he was doing—if he was even in the country.

You don’t let yourself think too much about it. You go through the motions, moving from patient to patient, checking vitals, signing off charts, trying to push through the fog in your mind. It almost works—almost—until you step out of Maria’s room and spot Amanda, the Chief Nursing Officer, walking toward you.

She smiles, clipboard tucked under her arm, but there’s something in the way she looks at you. Something unreadable.

You can already feel the dread start to wrap itself around your ribs.

“Hey, how’s it going?” she asks, falling into step beside you.

“Good,” you reply automatically. “What’s up?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she takes your tablet, her fingers brushing against yours for just a second too long. You furrow your brows, taking it from her, but your stomach twists at the hesitance in her gaze.

“There’s been a bit of a change,” she finally says. “Kit’s taking over Nicholas now.”

That makes you pause.

You've been taking care of Nicholas for a little over a month, an older man who came back from the blip different, well… different was a nice way to put it.

“Oh?”

Amanda nods, opening a new file on your screen before watching you closely. “Here,” she says, passing you the updated patient file. “Your new assignment.”

You take the tablet, adjusting your grip as you glance down at the screen—only to feel the air sucked from your lungs.

Captain Joaquín Torres.

The name alone makes your heart lurch, when did he become a captain? But then your eyes drop to the image beneath it.

You freeze.

Joaquín, unconscious. His skin is bruised, his face pale under the harsh lighting of the hospital room. The ventilator is taped to his mouth, bandages covering his side where the burns must be. He looks… wrong.

Your stomach turns.

“Um.” You barely recognize your own voice. “I don’t think I can take this one.”

Amanda’s brows knit together. “Why not?”

“It’s…” You swallow, suddenly hyperaware of how dry your throat feels. “It’s a personal case.”

“I know.”

That makes you look up, and when you do, Amanda is already watching you with that same careful expression—understanding, but unwavering. “That’s why I’m assigning it to you,” she says, soft but firm.

You stare at her, trying to process the words.

“Familiar faces help in recovery,” Amanda says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Waking up to someone he knows might do him some good.”

Your grip tightens around the tablet, fingers pressing into the smooth surface as your pulse pounds in your ears.

“Not everyone gets shot out of the sky by the military and lives to tell the tale.”

She’s right. You know she’s right.

But Joaquín isn’t just anyone.

And it’s been a long time since you’ve been a familiar face.

Would he even want to wake up to you?

You don’t ask that. You don’t let yourself. Instead, you swallow around the knot in your throat and force a nod. “Okay.”

Amanda watches you for a moment, searching your face like she can see everything you’re trying to hide. Then, she squeezes your shoulder, her touch warm and grounding. “You got this.”

You wish you believed her.

You suck in your pride as Amanda walks away and your fingers tighten around the tablet as you glance down at Joaquín’s medical file, his name printed in bold letters at the top. You already know his blood type, his medical history, his baseline vitals—things you shouldn’t still remember but do anyway. It feels strange seeing them laid out so clinically like he’s just another patient.

Your thumb swipes down the screen, scanning through his injuries. Severe burns on the left side of his torso. A broken radius and a fractured humerus on his right arm. The notes estimate he’ll be unconscious for a few more days, maybe a week at most. The doctors don’t think it’ll be a long coma.

He might wake up anytime.

Your stomach twists.

The live security feed on the tablet shows a grainy, black-and-white image of him, still and silent in the hospital bed, wrapped in layers of bandages and hooked up to machines that beep in steady intervals. The sight of him like this, unmoving, is almost more unsettling than the injuries themselves.

The elevator ride to his floor feels endless, but when the doors finally slide open, the hallway ahead stretches on like something out of a dream—too long, too empty, too quiet. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead fills the silence, and your shoes barely make a sound against the polished tile.

You’ve never hesitated like this before. No patient has ever made your heart pound this hard before you’ve even stepped into their room.

You stop in front of the door, your ID card clutched tight between your fingers.

He is hurt, you remind yourself. A wounded soldier. He needs care. That’s all this is. Just do your job.

Your hand trembles slightly as you swipe your card for clearance, and for a second, your eyes flicker down—out of habit, maybe—toward your left hand. The ring is gone. Has been for a long time.

You press your lips together and push the door open.

The room smells like antiseptic and fresh flowers.

Your eyes find him instantly.

He’s barely recognizable beneath the layers of medical care—IV lines, gauze, the rigid brace securing his arm. But it’s still him. His curls have grown out, the longer strands curling over his forehead, though the sides are still neatly trimmed. His face is slack with unconsciousness, lips parted slightly as he breathes in slow, measured rhythms.

There’s already a small collection of bouquets on the bedside table, a mix of bright yellows and deep reds—he always liked bold colours. You know more will come, especially once his mother finds out what happened. You pity whoever has to make that phone call.

Your pulse is loud in your ears as you move toward the sink, washing your hands on autopilot before slipping on a pair of gloves. The scent of hospital soap clings to your skin even beneath the latex.

You set the tablet down and step to his bedside, the weight in your chest settling heavier now that you’re standing this close. You can see the damage now. The discoloration where the burns peak through the bandages, the bruises blooming beneath his skin. His arm rests stiffly in its brace, fingers curled loosely at his side.

You hesitate before touching him.

Then, with careful hands, you reach for the hem of his hospital gown, lifting it just enough to expose the bandages on his torso. The dressings are damp, already beginning to seep through.

Too gentle.

You’re taking too long, moving too carefully. This should be routine—cleaning, reapplying, monitoring for infection. But your hands linger a second too long over his skin, your fingers ghosting over the edge of a bandage before you force yourself to focus.

You work in silence, methodical but deliberate, peeling away the old dressings and replacing them with fresh ones. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your hands, the only sign of life in his otherwise motionless body.

When you finish, you pull the blanket up to his chest, tucking it carefully around him.

You don’t leave right away.

You should. You have other patients to see, and other rounds to make. But you linger for a moment longer, just watching him.

Being here—being this close—feels like stepping into something half-forgotten. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to remember.

With a quiet exhale, you turn away, stripping off your gloves and tossing them in the bin before grabbing the tablet again.

This is just a job.

And you have work to do.

The next few days slip into a pattern—one you follow carefully, almost methodically, because routine is easier than thinking too much.

Joaquín remains unconscious, but his condition improves. You can see it in the subtle things: the way his breathing becomes steadier, how his colour starts to return beneath the bruising, how the tension in his features eases little by little. His body is still healing, but it’s doing what it’s supposed to—recovering, piece by piece.

Somewhere along the way, his mother and grandmother are flown in.

You make sure you’re nowhere near the hospital that day. You tell yourself it’s because you need the rest, that you’ve been pulling extra shifts, that you could use the break. But you know the truth.

You aren’t ready to face them.

You can barely bring yourself to stand in the same room as Joaquín, let alone look his mother in the eye. She always had a way of seeing right through you, of reading between the lines of what you said and what you didn’t. You don’t want to know what she’d find if she looked too closely now.

So you take a sick day. You ignore the tight feeling in your chest when you imagine them sitting at his bedside, his mother smoothing down his curls, his grandmother murmuring quiet prayers over him. You wonder if she blames you. If she thinks you should’ve been there when it happened. If she wonders why you’re here now, after all this time.

But you don’t ask. You don’t want the answer.

The next morning, when you step back into Joaquín’s room, there are more flowers.

The table beside his bed is overflowing now—bouquets of sunflowers, carnations, lilies, roses in every colour. Some are from coworkers, others from people you don’t recognize. A small card tucked between them catches your eye. You don’t pick it up, but you already know who it’s from.

His mother’s handwriting is easy to recognize.

A fresh wave of guilt washes over you, but you push it aside. You busy yourself with checking his IV, adjusting his blankets, making sure everything is in order. The steady beep of the heart monitor is the only sound in the room, save for the occasional rustling of flower petals when a breeze drifts through the open window.

Sam visits often.

He comes at random hours, able to bypass the strict visiting times the hospital has set up, sometimes lingering for only twenty minutes, sometimes staying for hours at a time. You catch glimpses of him in the security feed before you even enter the room—his tall frame slouched in the chair beside Joaquín’s bed, one ankle resting on his knee as he flips through a book.

He plays music sometimes, a quiet hum of familiar songs drifting through the room. You recognize the playlist—the same one Joaquín used to blast while working late, the one he’d force you to listen to whenever he got too excited about a new artist. It’s a mix of genres, the kind that shouldn’t work together but somehow do.

You pretend you don’t notice the way Sam watches you when you walk in, his eyes lingering like he’s waiting for you to say something. But he never pushes. He just nods, sometimes offering a small update about Joaquín’s family or a passing comment about work before settling back into his chair.

Neither of you talk about the fact that Joaquín still hasn’t woken up.

Instead, you go through the motions.

His burns are healing faster than you expected. The bandages come off, revealing raw, pink skin that will take time to fade. His arm is no longer suspended from the ceiling, the rigid brace replaced with a looser sling. His body is catching up with itself, putting itself back together the way it always does.

You try to keep the windows open as the sun sets later and the spring weather gets warmer, letting the sun come into the room. You hope it might bring back that golden tan to his skin.

The air in his room changes as the days go by. The tension shifts—subtle, but there.

The sun sets later now, casting golden light through the blinds in the evenings. You start leaving the windows cracked open, letting the spring breeze filter in, replacing the sterile scent of antiseptic with something softer.

It makes the room feel less like a hospital and more like something else. Something warmer.

But warmth can be deceptive.

Because the closer he gets to waking up, the more real this all becomes.

And you still don’t know what’s going to happen when he finally opens his eyes.

One day, while cleaning his burns, you notice something—something small, but enough to make your breath hitch.

The heart monitor.

The steady rhythm you’ve grown so used to suddenly shifts—just a faint change, barely noticeable, but it’s there. You freeze, your gloved hands hovering over his burned skin, waiting to see if it happens again. The beeping stabilizes after a moment, falling back into its familiar, constant pattern.

You swallow hard, exhaling slowly through your nose.

Maybe it was nothing. A fluke. You’ve seen it happen before—small involuntary fluctuations that don’t mean anything. You force yourself to shake it off, to keep going.

But the moment your hands brush against his skin again, the heart monitor spikes.

This time, you see it. The sudden jump, the erratic beep, the undeniable reaction.

You pull back immediately, like you’ve been singed. Your heart lurches, panic flashing through you because—did you hurt him?

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you scan his face, searching for any sign of pain. His expression doesn’t change. His eyes remain closed, his body still. But the numbers on the monitor flicker with every beat of his heart, betraying what his body won’t show.

And then it hits you.

He feels it.

He’s not just lying there, unaware of the world around him. His body is reacting. It means he’s drifting, slipping from unconsciousness, slowly clawing his way back to waking.

Your chest tightens.

This is what you’ve been waiting for. What you should want.

You should be relieved.

But you’re not.

Because for all the times you’ve wished he’d open his eyes, you never stopped to think about what it would mean when he finally did.

What if the first thing he sees is you?

What if he looks at you and all you find in his face is resentment?

What if he asks why you’re here? Why you even bothered?

Your breath catches in your throat, torn between anticipation and fear. Your fingers curl into your palms, gloves crinkling under the pressure. You wait, holding yourself still, eyes locked on his face, waiting for the inevitable flutter of his eyelids, the slow, unfocused squint as he adjusts to the light.

But it never comes.

His breathing stays even, his lashes unmoving, his expression unchanging. His body is stirring, but his mind isn’t ready yet.

Your hands feel cold.

You force yourself to take a step back, creating distance—just in case. You reach for the tablet to record the change in his vitals, trying to make sense of what just happened, of what almost happened.

You practically jump out of your skin when a voice cuts through the hallway, sharp and frantic.

“¡Mija!”

Before you even see her, you feel her—Esperanza’s presence sweeping toward you like a storm, her heels clicking against the tile. The next thing you know, you’re wrapped in her arms, your face pressed against the soft fabric of her floral blouse, caught in a hug so tight it knocks the breath out of you.

“Mi amor, ¿cómo andas?” she asks, her voice thick with worry and affection.

You barely have a chance to respond, still stunned by the unexpected embrace. She smells the same—warm vanilla and roses, a scent so deeply tied to holiday dinners that it nearly knocks you off balance.

When she finally pulls back, she doesn’t let you go completely. Her hands clasp yours, fingers curling over your knuckles like she’s afraid to let you slip away again.

“Esperanza,” you manage, breathless.

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, her lips pulling into a grin so familiar it makes your chest ache.

“What are you doing here? Visitors can’t be here for another hour,” you point out, grasping for something—anything—to ground yourself.

She waves a dismissive hand, scoffing like the very idea is ridiculous. “Ay, enough with that,” she chides. “When has that ever stopped me?”

And then she stops. Really looks at you.

Her expression softens, and suddenly, you're under a gaze so warm it makes your throat tighten.

“Wow, look at you, my dear. Hermosa,” she murmurs, shaking her head like she can’t believe it’s really you standing in front of her.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, flustered. “I look like a mess,” you correct, glancing down at yourself. You’re in scrubs, nearing the end of a long shift, and you know you must look exhausted. Especially after dealing with Maria throwing up glowing vomit all over you earlier today. There’s no way you look anything close to hermosa.

But Esperanza just smiles knowingly, squeezing your hands once before tugging you toward the chairs lining the hallway. She sits down, keeping her grip on you like she’s afraid you might disappear through her fingers if she lets go.

You follow, hesitating only slightly before settling into the seat beside her.

"It’s been so long," she says, her brows furrowing with something between disappointment and relief. "You haven’t called in months. I thought you were sick! Do you hate me?"

"I could never hate you," you say quickly, shaking your head, a little horrified she would ever think that.

And then she smacks your arm.

"Then why haven’t you answered my calls?" she scolds, her voice laced with exasperation. "Your mother tells me you moved away and what? I don’t hear a word from you?"

You blink. Your mind stutters at the revelation.

"Wait—" you pause, trying to piece it together. "My mom… and you? You’ve been talking?"

Esperanza gives you a look, like it should be obvious. "Of course," she huffs. "What, you thought just because you and Quino broke up, I was going to stop talking to my comadre?" She rolls her eyes like the very idea is ridiculous. "Por favor."

Your mouth goes dry.

Your mother and Joaquin’s mother—keeping in touch this entire time. Behind your back. Talking about you, probably about him, too.

Your stomach churns, and suddenly, there’s something heavy pressing against your ribs.

You open your mouth, but she’s already shaking her head.

"Oh, lo sé," she sighs, exasperated. "The dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. If it were up to me, you two would’ve been married by now. Given me a grandchild, too."

Your laugh comes out a little too flustered, a little too forced. You glance around the hallway, avoiding her gaze, trying to ignore the way your heart wrings at the thought.

"Yeah," you mutter because you don’t know what else to say.

Esperanza exhales, her posture softening. She lets go of one of your hands just to reach up and brush your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with the same gentle touch Joaquín used to.

The same way he always did when you were talking too much, or overthinking, or when he just wanted an excuse to touch you.

You let out a long, quiet sigh, blinking hard against the sudden sting in your eyes.

It’s too much.

Too much familiarity, too much of your old life creeping back in all at once. You don’t think you’ve gotten enough sleep to process any of it properly.

"Mija," she murmurs, her voice softer now, more careful. "I don’t care whether you and Quino are together or not. I loved having you around. I still want to have our little chats. You are like one of my own. And when he told me you broke up, I just…" she shakes her head, pressing her lips together like she doesn’t want to say it. "I hate that it took him getting hurt for us to talk again."

"Esperanza…" you start, but she just shakes her head again.

"I know, I know. Perdóname," she says, waving it off as she stands up. She smooths down the front of her dress and sighs. "It’s so good to see you again, mi amor. You keep taking good care of my son. I’ll be in the city for another week, so please—call me. Maybe we can get coffee."

Before you can respond, she scans her visitor’s pass on the key panel and walks into Joaquín’s room, disappearing behind the door without another word.

But she leaves the question hanging in the air, thick with nostalgia and something painfully close to longing.

And she leaves the scent of rosy perfume lingering in her wake.

You stare at the closed door, your heart thudding unevenly in your chest.

You should go. You need to go—your tablet is already beeping, pulling you back to reality, reminding you that there are other patients who need you, that there’s a crisis waiting for you three flights down.

Still, you hesitate for just a second longer, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat before finally turning away.

There’s no time to process this right now.

But you have a feeling that, no matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to shake this conversation anytime soon.

Maria’s hand grips the IV pole tightly, her small fingers curling around the metal as she rolls it beside her, careful not to let the wheels catch on the tile. The fluorescent hospital lights cast a soft glow over her—too pale against her skin, too sterile—but despite it all, she beams.

You’ve never seen someone so excited just to walk.

But today is special. It’s her birthday.

She didn’t ask for much—just this. A chance to stretch her legs, to be somewhere other than her hospital room. Her parents had begged you to keep her busy while they decorated, slipping streamers and balloons inside the room like they could somehow make up for lost time.

Maria hadn’t argued. She had just grinned up at you when you asked if she wanted to go outside.

Now, she’s practically glowing, her feet sinking into the grass as you lead her through the small hospital garden.

She tips her head back, eyes fluttering closed as the breeze ruffles her hospital gown, lifting strands of hair from her shoulders. Pink cherry blossoms sway on the branches above, petals drifting onto the ground like delicate confetti.

"Did you know cherry blossoms only bloom for a few weeks?" you tell her.

Maria gasps. "Really?"

"Yep. It’s called hanami in Japan. People go outside just to watch them bloom."

Her eyes widen in pure delight. "That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. They should be watched. They’re so pretty."

You smile. "Yeah, they are."

For a moment, she just stands there, soaking it in. And you let her.

It’s one of those rare times when she doesn’t look like a patient. No tubes, no machines, no sterile smell of antiseptic—just a kid. A kid enjoying the sun, the air, the simple beauty of something fleeting.

She sighs, finally pulling herself away. "Okay. I’m ready to go back in."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "Yeah. I don’t wanna get in trouble for being outside too long. It’s my birthday, but I think Nurse Kate would still yell at me."

"Yeah, probably," you say with a chuckle.

The hospital halls are quieter than usual, the usual hum of voices and distant beeping fading into soft background noise. Maria walks beside you, still clinging to her IV pole but with a bit more confidence in her steps.

She doesn’t drag her feet anymore. That’s new.

Her body is stronger than it was weeks ago—no more trembling hands, no more laboured breathing after short walks. It’s a victory, even if it’s small.

Maria suddenly gasps, gripping your arm and her feet skid against the floor. You barely have time to react before she jerks to a halt, her entire body going rigid, eyes locked on something ahead.

Her mouth falls open.

"The Falcon?!"

Your stomach drops.

"Maria—"

"The Falcon is here?!"

Before you can stop her, she takes off, darting toward the digital display outside one of the hospital rooms. The screen flickers with patient information, vitals, and medication logs—

Torres, Joaquín

Maria’s hands slap over her mouth. "Oh my God."

"Maria," you warn, but she’s already clambering onto one of the chairs lined against the wall, pressing her face to the glass window beside the door.

"Oh my God! It's him! It's really him!" She whirls around, panic-stricken. "Is he dead?"

You lurch forward. "What? No." Your hands instinctively find her waist, steadying her before she tips over. "He’s just sleeping."

"Can I go say hi?"

"No."

"It’s my birthday."

"Maria—"

"Please!"

You close your eyes, inhaling slowly.

This was not in your job description.

You glance at the window, frowning. You weren't supposed to let anyone into a patient’s room unless they were authorized. Especially not another patient. There were rules. Strict ones. The last thing you needed was for someone to get sick, for someone to get hurt, for someone to wake Joaquín up before he was ready—

But then you look at Maria.

She’s practically vibrating with excitement, hands clasped tightly like she’s holding back from bouncing on her toes—the youngest patient in the entire building. Wide-eyed and full of wonder, she’s looking at Joaquín because he’s a real-life superhero, someone she’s only ever seen in headlines and shaky phone recordings.

And Joaquín… Joaquín loves kids.

He always has.

You’ve seen it firsthand—the way he kneels when he talks to them, the way his face lights up whenever he makes one laugh, the way he always offers high-fives like it’s second nature. Even now, even unconscious, the thought of him being the reason behind Maria’s uncontainable joy tugs at something deep in your chest.

It feels like something he would want.

And maybe… maybe this is okay. Maybe this is good—a reminder that people out there care about him, even the ones who have never met him.

Still, you hesitate.

You’re comfortable taking care of him now.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

No more denial. No more excuses. No more pretending that seeing him like this—unmoving, caught somewhere between here and wherever his mind has drifted—doesn’t scare the hell out of you. You’ve accepted that you miss him, that you still... care for him, even after everything. But stepping into that room again—with Maria, of all people—feels like a step toward something you’re not sure you’re ready to face.

Because Joaquín is here. So close. Close enough to reach out and touch, to whisper his name and wait for that slow, teasing smile to appear—the one he always gave you when you were being too serious. Close enough that you should feel relieved.

But he’s also impossibly far.

No teasing smiles. No dumb jokes. No knowing looks from across the room. Not even anger of having you near. Just silence. Just the faint rise and fall of his chest, the machines working to keep him stable.

For days, you’ve watched him. Sat beside him. Checked his vitals. Changed his bandages. Waited.

But then Maria looks up at you, eyes round and pleading.

"Okay," you exhale, already regretting it. "But you have to be really quiet so he doesn’t wake up, okay?"

She nods, lowering her voice, "Okay."

Maria is practically bouncing with excitement as you swipe your keycard and push open the door. Sunlight spills in through the half-drawn blinds, cutting warm streaks across the floor, across Joaquín’s blankets, across his still form. The midday hum of the hospital filters in from the hallway, muffled but present. The steady beeping of the monitors tracks his heart rate, a slow, even rhythm, while the IV beside him feeds a clear solution into his veins.

Maria tiptoes inside like she’s afraid of disturbing something sacred.

You don’t blame her.

Because up close, he looks even more unreachable. The bruises along his temple have faded from deep purple to a softer yellow-red, but the cuts on his face are healing. His lips are chapped. His hair is messy against the pillow, a sharp contrast to how put-together you remember him.

You move—more out of instinct than anything—because lingering in the doorway makes it worse. The small cart beside his bed is stocked with fresh bandages, antiseptic, gauze—everything you’ve used to help keep his wounds clean these past few weeks. Without thinking, you pick up his chart because you've forgotten your tablet, scanning the latest notes, his most recent vitals. Stable. No new concerns. No change.

Maria whispers something, but you don’t catch it.

You blink, glancing at her. "What?"

She’s staring at Joaquín, her small hands gripping the edge of his blanket like she’s afraid to touch him, but wants to.

“He’s even prettier up close,” she breathes.

Despite yourself, you smile. "Yeah? You think so?"

She nods seriously.

There’s something achingly familiar about the way she looks at him—like she’s trying to memorize him, like she’s afraid he might disappear if she blinks.

You know that feeling.

Because you’ve caught yourself staring at him the exact same way.

Like if you look long enough, you might commit him to memory all over again. Like you can make up for the lost time, for the time that has slipped through your fingers. You study him—not just the broad strokes of him, not just the familiarity of his face, but every little thing you’d forgotten during your time apart, the things that had slipped from your mind.

There is a faint stubble that’s started to grow along his jaw. And now you notice little moles dotting his skin, scattered in ways you don’t recognize from your memories or dreams of him—they were always focused on the bigger picture, the way he smiled, the way he laughed, the way he loved you.

Now, it’s the details that root you to the present.

The soft rise and fall of his chest beneath the hospital blanket. The steady hum of the monitors. The warmth of his skin when you reach out, pressing two fingers to his wrist, feeling the familiar, comforting rhythm of his pulse beneath your touch.

You check his vitals—his heart rate is stable, his oxygen levels are good, and his IV fluids are running properly.

Maria exhales softly, still watching him, her voice quiet as a breath.

"I think he’s gonna be okay."

You let out a slow, measured breath, your thumb grazing over the back of Joaquín’s hand—just for a second, just enough to feel the warmth of him.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Me too."

It’s enough. For now.

Your fingers slip away from his, the warmth vanishing almost instantly, and you start to usher Maria back toward the door. But as you move, something shifts—so small, so quick, you almost think you imagined it.

Joaquín’s fingers twitch at his side, just as yours leave his.

Your heart stutters.

A rush of warmth blooms in your chest, something fragile and desperate, something that wants to hope, to believe that it means something. That he felt it.

Swallowing, you make a quick note on his chart, recording the small movement even though it could be nothing.

Even though it could be everything.

You exhale, trying to ground yourself, trying to shake off the way your heart is pounding now, loud and heavy in your ears. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until Maria tugs at your sleeve, glancing up at you, her own expression somewhere between curiosity and uncertainty.

You force yourself to move. To turn away. To guide her toward the door, because whatever flicker of hope just sparked inside you is too fragile to hold.

But then—

A sound.

Low. Faint. Hoarse from weeks of silence.

Your name.

Spoken.

Maria gasps softly.

And you—you freeze.

The breath leaves your lungs in a sharp, startled exhale, and your fingers go rigid against the door handle. A slow, involuntary shiver runs down your spine, your pulse hammering against your ribs.

Did you imagine it?

You must have.

But then you feel it—Maria’s small fingers wrapping tightly around your hand, clutching at you with quiet urgency.

Because she heard it too.

Your name. A whisper, raw and barely there, but there.

And it came from him.

Joaquín.

The hospital room feels smaller now, charged with something delicate and terrifying all at once. The air thickens, pressing against your chest as you slowly—slowly—turn around, terrified that if you look, it’ll be gone.

That it was just a trick of your desperate mind.

But it’s not.

Because Joaquín’s fingers twitch again.

His brow furrows, lips parting slightly, throat working as he struggles to form a sound, his voice raw and unfamiliar after so many days of silence.

Maria gasps, gripping your sleeve, her excitement barely contained, but you don’t register it.

Because Joaquín’s eyes are fluttering open.

For a moment, he stares blankly at the ceiling, his chest rising in a shallow, uneven breath. His body remains rigid, like his muscles haven’t caught up with the fact that he’s conscious. There’s no immediate recognition in his gaze—just a hazy sort of confusion, as if he’s somewhere else entirely.

Then, he moves.

His fingers twitch against the sheets, then curl. His breath hitches. The faint beeping of the heart monitor quickens. His body tenses, his shoulders pulling in as if bracing for impact.

His gaze shifts—and lands on you.

The second your face comes into focus, his entire body jerks.

A sharp, ragged inhale drags through his chest. His pupils constrict. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach for something—like he’s searching for something solid.

His breathing changes. It’s not just uneven anymore—it’s too fast, too shallow. The rise and fall of his chest is quick, erratic, his ribs barely expanding with each breath.

Then, a whisper, barely a breath—words spilling from his lips before he even realizes he’s speaking.

"Me morí."

The words repeat, over and over, almost like a prayer.

"Me morí. Me morí. Me morí."

His voice trembles. His fingers fist the blanket. Tears well in his eyes and slip down his temples, silent, unchecked.

Your heart lurches.

You move instinctively, stepping closer, hands steady even as your pulse pounds in your ears.

"Hey, hey," you soothe, voice low and careful, placing a gentle hand on his good shoulder. "It’s okay. You’re safe."

Joaquín flinches at the touch, his muscles twitching beneath your fingers. His head turns slightly, his gaze darting, frantic, searching—taking in the room, the medical equipment, the IV in his arm. You can tell his body wants to move, to fight, to run, military instincts kicking in. But he’s still weak, his limbs heavy, uncooperative.

His pulse pounds beneath your fingertips. Too fast. His whole body is reacting before his mind can catch up.

"Joaquín." You keep your voice steady, careful, like speaking too loudly might shatter him completely. "Can you hear me?"

His gaze snaps back to you.

Something flickers in his expression. Recognition.

His chest is still rising and falling too quickly, his hands still tremble against the sheets, but his shoulders drop just barely. Some of the tension bleeds away.

His lips part, but no sound comes out at first. His throat works through the effort.

Then, at last, a hoarse, broken whisper.

"Hi."

Your breath catches.

Your fingers twitch against his shoulder, the warmth of his skin grounding you as much as you hope you’re grounding him. You press your palm there just a little longer, just to reassure yourself he’s real, that he’s awake.

"Hi," you whisper back.

His lashes flutter as he blinks at you, slow and deliberate, his eyes still wet with tears. Still searching. His gaze drifts over your face like he’s trying to map every detail back into his memory.

Like he’s afraid you might disappear.

"Hi," he says again, quieter this time.

Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat.

"Hi, Joaquín."

A slow, trembling exhale leaves his lips. His body sags into the pillow, exhaustion catching up to him all at once. His fingers unclench from the blanket, the tension in his muscles fading—but not entirely.

Because when you start to let go, when your fingers begin to lift from his shoulder, he twitches beneath your touch.

The hesitation is so subtle that you almost miss it—almost.

A flicker of something crosses his face, something unspoken, something aching. You worry he's hurting.

It reminds you of another time, a different moment in a different place. Years ago, Joaquín slouched in the passenger seat of your car, showing you his newly earned stitches after getting beat up by a Flag-Smasher, laughing through the pain while you frowned.

"You gotta stop scaring me like this."

"I’m trying, I swear."

You remember the way his eyes had softened in the dim streetlight, the way he had looked at you then. The way he kissed you to take your mind off of his pain—how neither of you had wanted to let go.

And now—now, as your fingers hover over his shoulder, as he doesn’t look away—it feels exactly the same.

Only this time he can't kiss you.

Only this time you can't wipe his tears away.

You force yourself to pull back, to let your fingers drift away, even as your hand aches to stay.

Joaquín swallows hard, blinking sluggishly as his gaze flickers to the IV in his arm, the monitors beside him, then back to you. His lips press together briefly as if he’s gathering himself before a rough, scratchy mutter escapes him.

"Ah, shit. I screwed up so bad."

The sound of his voice—dry, raspy, but carrying the faintest hint of that familiar humour—makes something in your chest crack wide open.

A breathy, wet laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it, and you quickly swipe at your eyes, shaking your head.

"I'm... I'm gonna go call a doctor, alright?"

Joaquín doesn’t say anything. He just watches you.

There’s something in his gaze—something unreadable, something too much. It makes your pulse stutter, makes your breath feel too shallow in your lungs.

You don’t give yourself time to process it.

Instead, you turn, pressing the call button for the doctor. "Come, Maria," you say, voice quieter than before.

Maria, who's gone strangely silent since Joaquín woke up, rushes to your side without hesitation. But she does nearly break her neck to keep looking back at him until you pull the door shut, sealing that moment away.

You exhale, resting your back against the wall for half a second longer than necessary before forcing yourself to move.

The doctor arrives quickly. You straighten up, rattling off Joaquín’s vitals, every detail you can remember—his initial reaction, his moment of panic, his response to stimuli, everything. The words come automatically, like muscle memory, like routine. You focus on that, on the familiar rhythm of procedure, handing off the responsibility to the doctor so she can begin running tests, checking his neurological responses, assessing how much damage—if any—his body has endured after so many days in forced stillness.

The weight of your exhaustion presses heavier against your shoulders as you upload his files to the system, sending them over before turning your attention back to Maria.

"You did good, Maria," you tell her softly as you lead her back to her room.

She just nods, but there’s something distant in her expression now.

You get it.

She’s just witnessed the moment. The one where everything changes.

It’s the moment where the panic stops being panic and turns into something else—something messier, something heavier.

It’s the moment where the question “what if he never wakes up?” turns into something just as terrifying:

“He’s awake. Now what?”

Her parents are waiting when you bring her back, and you don’t stay. You let them have that moment for her birthday, closing the door gently behind you before turning back into the hallway.

And then you’re alone.

For the first time in hours, in days, you’re alone with nothing to distract you.

Your hands are shaking. You hadn’t even noticed at first, but now you can’t not notice—the tremor in your fingers, the way your pulse hammers too fast against your ribs, the way your body suddenly doesn’t know what to do with itself now that you’re not running on pure adrenaline.

You sink into one of the chairs outside Joaquín’s room, bracing your elbows on your knees. The motion feels stiff, foreign—like your body isn’t quite yours anymore.

Your eyes sting.

Joaquín is awake. He’s awake.

He spoke. He looked at you. He recognized you. He remembered you.

You should feel relief. You should feel something good.

And yet.

It’s like coming up for air after being stuck underwater too long—except just as you’re about to take a full breath, it’s ripped away again.

Because now that he’s awake… he can speak to you.

He can react to what you say, to what you do.

Maybe he’ll ask for a different nurse. Maybe he’ll ask to be transferred to another hospital back in Miami or something. Maybe, when his voice isn’t so raw and broken, he’ll tell you exactly what he thinks about the fact that you were the one sitting by his bedside all this time.

And God, you don’t know if you can handle that.

You drag your hands down your face, pushing out a breath. You don’t have time for this.

The sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway reminds you that Sam—or Joaquín’s mother—is bound to show up any minute now. The news will spread fast, and soon, his room will be filled with people who have been waiting for this moment, praying for this moment.

Shit.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second before forcing yourself up. You should be in the room right now with the doctor, checking over Joaquín’s vitals, taking actual notes instead of spiraling in the hallway. Get your shit together and do your job.

Your movements feel sluggish as you reach for your tablet, swiping your ID card at the door. The scanner beeps, and for a split second, you hesitate—your fingers still lingering on the door handle, your chest tight.

Then you force yourself to step inside.

The room is brighter now, bathed in soft afternoon light filtering through the window. Dust motes drift lazily in the warm glow, a stark contrast to the sterile white walls and the quiet hum of machines. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor is too steady, too real.

The doctor is already mid-assessment, having raised Joaquín’s bed into a slightly upright position as she runs through a neurological check-up.

Joaquín is watching you.

His dark eyes flicker to you the second you enter, and you feel it in your chest, hot and unrelenting.

You swallow hard, gripping your tablet like it’s a lifeline, and take your place near the doctor, prepared to focus on numbers and stats and anything else except the weight of that stare.

You wonder if you’ll get kicked out for distracting him.

"Oh, great, you’re back," the doctor says, breaking through the static in your brain. "Do you mind grabbing some water for Captain Torres? I’m just about done here. Everything looks good and healthy. He’s recovering well."

You nod, already moving before your thoughts can catch up. Autopilot. It’s the only thing keeping you grounded at this point.

Still, you feel it.

The way Joaquín’s gaze follows every single one of your movements, tracking you like you might disappear if he looks away.

You crouch, retrieving a bottle from the mini fridge, fingers twisting at the cap before stepping back toward the bed. That’s when it hits you—he can’t take it. His muscles are still sluggish, his coordination not quite there yet.

You pour some into a paper cup instead, stepping closer when the doctor gives a nod of approval. Joaquín doesn’t say anything.

The tremor in your hands is almost imperceptible, but you feel it when you lift the cup to his lips. The moment your fingers brush his skin, a muscle in his jaw tenses.

His heart monitor beside the bed jumps.

Your eyes snap to the screen, but the doctor catches it first.

"Interesting," she hums, her tone just teasing enough to send heat creeping up your neck. But she lets it go.

"So, Joaquín," she continues, "We’re gonna have to do some blood work tomorrow, just to make sure everything is alright internally. We’ll up your dose of painkillers now that you’re awake."

"Awesome," he mutters, voice scratchy but laced with dry sarcasm.

She smiles. "They’ll make you a little drowsy, which is normal, but we’ll need you to try and stay awake until sunset. Just to make sure you’re not slipping in and out of consciousness. But I doubt it."

Then she turns to you.

"I’ll let Amanda know he’s awake. But you did a good job—woke up sooner than we expected."

You blink, caught off guard by the compliment.

"Thanks."

"I’ll come back later for a check-up."

And then she leaves.

The door clicks shut, and there is a silence that follows.

You stand there, hands gripping the tablet against your chest, unsure of what to do. Well, you know what to do—your duty is clear. You should be checking his vitals, updating his chart, making sure he’s comfortable.

But that’s not what’s stopping you.

It’s him.

Awake. Looking at you.

Joaquín Torres, alive and conscious and blinking at you like he’s still trying to convince himself this isn’t just another fever dream.

His voice comes quiet, hoarse, a low grumble you barely hear over the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor.

"You took care of me?"

Your breath catches.

It’s a simple question, but it knocks something loose in your chest. Because it’s him asking. Because he’s here to ask it.

You swallow, shifting on your feet. Your gaze flickers over him—not just the wounds, but all of him. The way the sunlight filters in through the window, warming the stark white of the sheets, reflecting in the deep brown of his eyes. He looks more alive now, and maybe it’s the light or the steady rise and fall of his chest, but for the first time in weeks, you allow yourself to believe it.

He’s here.

Breathing. Talking. Alive.

And yet—his dead face still haunts you.

The memory lingers in the corners of your mind, just out of reach but never truly gone. His stillness, the unnatural slack of his features, the too-loud silence of a body that had once been so full of energy, of life. The image is burned into your brain, playing over and over again like a cruel loop. The moment you thought you lost him.

The tears in his mother’s face.

The look of dread on Sam.

The guilt.

"Uh, yeah. I did."

Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Joaquín exhales, long and slow, as if processing your words. Then, he tries to smile.

It’s small, faint and unsteady like he isn’t quite sure how to do it yet. The corners of his lips curve, but there’s a hesitation in the movement, like his face isn’t used to the motion after so long.

Still, he tries.

And when his eyes meet yours again, your stomach twists, sinking deep like an anchor dropping into dark water.

"I… I know it’s just your job, but—" His voice falters, but his gaze doesn’t. "Thank you."

Right. Your job.

The words settle into your chest like a weight—familiar, suffocating.

Because you remember the last time he said that to you.

Your last fight.

Well—it wasn’t really a fight, was it?

Not the kind with screaming and shattered glass, not the kind where anger built up and spilled over, reckless and sharp. It was quieter than that. Heavier. Because in the end, it wasn’t about anger.

It was about exhaustion. About wanting so badly to hold on to each other but realizing, little by little, that neither of you had hands free to do it.

You had barely been sleeping.

Between overnight shifts at the hospital, classes, training, and trying to be the best nurse you could be, your time wasn’t your own. It belonged to the people who needed you—the patients, the emergencies, the long nights where your body ached and your mind ran on fumes.

And Joaquín?

He had thrown himself into working with Sam, into proving himself, into becoming something bigger. His missions got longer. The risks got greater. He was gone more often than he was home, and when he was home, he was bruised, exhausted, a shadow of himself trying to piece together the scraps of a normal life between deployments.

You tried to make it work. God, you tried.

You spent so much time missing each other—passing like ships in the night, phone calls that never lasted long enough, conversations cut short by a code blue or a mission call.

At first, you thought it was temporary. That one day, things would slow down. That eventually, you’d find a rhythm that let you breathe with each other again.

But that day never came.

Instead, the gaps between you grew wider.

The distance stretched, and stretched, and stretched—until one night, you were sitting across from each other, and you both knew.

"I can't do this anymore, Joaquín."

You had whispered it.

Not because you didn’t mean it, but because saying it any louder might have broken you.

He had looked at you, like he was waiting for you to take it back.

Like if he just held on long enough, you’d change your mind.

"I know... You know, I love you," he had said, low, firm, desperate.

And that had been the worst part.

Because love wasn’t the problem.

It had never been the problem.

It was everything else.

Your job. His job.

The nights spent apart, the exhaustion, the never-ending fear of opening your front door to a folded American Flag. You couldn’t stand watching him bleed.

And he couldn’t stand knowing that one day, you might not be there to stitch him back up. That was the last time he said it. "But it’s my job."

Like that was supposed to make it better.

But now, you’re standing in his hospital room, staring at proof that it never got better. Because you had left to protect yourself from seeing him hurt. And now you had seen him dead.

"Of course," you manage to say, wincing when you hear your voice break.

Joaquín hums softly, but his eyes don’t leave you. He’s looking for something in your face—like he’s searching through memories neither of you have spoken aloud in years.

But then, his gaze flickers away. Over to the table. To the mess of flowers stacked in unsteady vases, their petals bright in the afternoon sunlight. The kind of display that only happens when someone is lucky enough to wake up.

His brow creases. "How bad was it?"

You swallow, feeling something sharp lodge itself in your throat. "You were shot out of the sky by a missile."

His lips part. "Right."

"It was pretty fucking bad."

A beat.

"Right."

You don’t know what you were expecting. Some kind of reaction, some flicker of acknowledgment for the hell he’s put you through. But instead, he just takes it—like it’s another report, another piece of intel.

You hesitate, something bubbling up inside you. You can’t tell if it’s anger or sorrow. "You died."

The words hit the air, heavier than you expected.

Joaquín blinks, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. His fingers twitch against the blanket.

"I died?"

You nod, biting your cheek so hard you taste iron.

"Yeah," you force out. Your throat tightens. Don’t cry. Not in front of him. Not again. "Two minutes."

He’s staring at you now. Eyes wide. Disbelief creeps into the edges of his expression, but not enough—not enough for someone who actually understands what that means.

What it means to you.

"Oh."

You scoff. "Yeah. Oh."

Your laugh is brittle. Sharp around the edges. Because what else is there to say? Joaquín dies for two minutes, and you’ve spent days living inside them.

He exhales, dragging a hand down his face.

"God," he mutters. "Sam’s gonna be so mad at me."

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Because this wasn’t how you imagined seeing him again.

In your head, there were a million other ways this could have gone—maybe you’d run into each other in the future when you were older. When things had settled. When you’d moved on.

Maybe you’d both be married to other people.

The thought makes you sick. But this? This is so much worse.

"Do you, um, do you need anything else? Are you hungry?"

"No."

You nod, but you don’t believe him. Patients are usually peckish when they wake up—a sign of life returning to their bodies, a reassurance that things are moving forward. And while he’s not allowed solid foods for another twenty-four hours, you could bring him a smoothie, something light.

But if he really wants something, he can call you.

You tell yourself that as you turn toward the door.

"Can you stay?"

You linger because you didn’t expect it.

Because you kind of hoped he would ask.

Because he didn’t ask you to stay last time.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, gripping your tablet a little tighter, as if the tension in your body could be contained in that single movement.

"Yeah," you say softly. "I can stay."

You turn back to him, and Joaquín is already looking at you.

His eyes are pleading.

It takes everything in you not to break right there. To not spill over.

You force yourself to move, careful, measured steps toward the chair beside his bed. It feels like you’re wading through something thick, something unseen, like grief or memory or all the what-ifs you’ve tried to bury.

You sink into the chair slowly.

A strand of hair falls into Joaquín’s face as he leans back against the pillows, the bruising on his cheekbone catching the light just enough for you to hate it.

Your fingers twitch again. The urge to brush it back is unbearable. But you don't.

He exhales.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asks suddenly.

You blink, caught off guard.

"Last night." you answer, almost automatically.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not really."

A beat.

"Nightmares?"

"Something like that."

"Something on your mind?"

"Lots on my mind."

The words slip out easily, like an old habit. No walls. No defences. It’s like no time has passed at all, like the space between you hasn’t been filled with anger, regret, and time apart. Just raw, open honesty in the quiet of the room.

The weight that’s been crushing you for days feels a little lighter in the space between his questions and your answers. You exhale, and only then do you realize you’re holding back tears.

You wipe at your face absently, surprised to find wetness there. You hadn’t even known you were crying.

Joaquín shifts in the bed, his gaze sharpening. There’s concern in his eyes, guilt, and maybe something else—something deeper. He looks away, clearing his throat, as if trying to fight it.

"I hope it's not me you're worried about,"

"I'm always worried about you."

You glance away from him, pretending it’s nothing, but the words hang between you both, too heavy to ignore.

His breath catches, something in him faltering, and then you catch the slight, almost imperceptible way his fingers curl into the sheets. His ears are pink, the flush spreading down his neck. He’s always been terrible at hiding how he feels, and you’re helpless against it. You always have been.

You can’t look at him. You don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed him. How much you’ve been carrying around since the breakup. How much he’s haunted every quiet moment since you walked away.

"Joaquín," you start, tugging at the ring finger on your left hand, the absence of his name there like a wound you forgot was still open. "When they brought you in here—"

"I miss you."

Your chest tightens. "Joaquín—"

"It's true, I do." His voice is quiet, almost vulnerable. "I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you again, and I just…" His gaze drifts from yours, like he’s struggling to put it all together. "I couldn't get it out."

You swallow hard, feeling that familiar ache well up in you. “I miss you too. It’s been... it’s been really hard.”

"Yeah." He nods slowly, his voice softer now. "It has. But, you know, I’m the Falcon now. Can you believe that?" He chuckles, but it’s almost nervous, as if he’s trying to lighten the mood, trying to make you smile. "I work with Captain America. I’ve got big shoes to fill. I’ve got to show up, but this... this is all I’ve ever wanted, since I was a kid. I’ve got it now. But... there’s something missing."

You look at him, really look at him, seeing the difference in his eyes now—less brash, more tired but still so much the same. "Yeah. Yeah, I feel it too. It’s like a nagging feeling, right? No matter what we do, it’s there."

"Make me feel guilty." His lips curve into a faint smile, but it’s tired.

"Like I wanna vomit," you reply dryly, the familiar banter slipping back into place before you can stop it.

Joaquín’s eyes soften as he lets out a breath, and there’s an edge of regret in the way he says, “I’m sorry I left.”

Your heart aches at the words, and you feel the old wounds crack open. "I’m sorry I made you leave." You’re not sure whether you’re trying to make him feel better or punish him with your own guilt. Either way, it burns.

“No,” he says quickly, “It doesn’t work that way.”

"But it does," you insist, your voice soft but firm.

He presses his lips together, brow furrowed, as if trying to work through what you’ve just said. "I should’ve fought harder," he murmurs, voice cracking just slightly.

"Joaquín... c’mon. Let’s talk about this later, okay? You just woke up from a coma. I can’t be putting this much stress on your mind."

"But I wanna talk about it," he presses, desperate.

“I know, I do too,” you admit,

“Then let’s talk about it,” he says, leaning forward just a little.

"Rest first." You place a hand on his shoulder gently, urging him to lay back. “You’ve been through a lot. I can’t let you burn yourself out again.”

“I’ve been resting. Had the best nurse in the world take care of me,” he teases, trying to distract you with a smile.

You feel the tug in your chest at his words. "And I will still take care of you. But you need rest. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow," you confirm, trying to smile, to soothe the tension you’ve both built up.

"Will you still be here?"

You glance down at him, a familiar warmth flooding your chest at the sight of him so vulnerable, so human. "I’m not going anywhere. Will you still be here?"

His smile softens, a quiet promise in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#listen to blood orange while reading 🫶🏽#they make out and fuck after this i promise #faye’s writing ⭑.ᐟ #joaquín torres #joaquín torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres fic #joaquin torres fanfiction #the falcon #the falcon x reader #joaquín torres smut #joaquin torres smut #joaquín’s wings

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antl3rqueen · 2 months ago

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fwb!vi gets jealous and fucks you in a party bathroom

18+

warnings: g!p vi. mirror sex. spanking. degrading.

you and vi had an agreement. you two would occasionally hook up whenever you needed to satisfy your urges. no strings attached and you guys had been doing just that. all was well... until tonight.

you were currently at a party on campus and you were having a great time. you had had a few drinks with your friends and you were now making out with a cute girl. vi was at this party too, watching you make out with some random chick. she shouldn't feel jealous because she's done the same thing countless times before. you guys weren't even a couple. you were just a good fuck for her every once in a while and that was that. but seeing you let some other girl shove her tongue down your throat and possibly let her take you back to your dorm room later? no, vi wasn't about to let that happen.

vi storms over to you and grabs your arm, wordlessly pulling you away from the girl. "what the fuck-" vi tightens her grip on your arm and tugs you upstairs, not giving you a chance to wriggle out of her hold. she pulls you into an empty bathroom, locking the door before she turns around to face you, arms folded over her chest. "what the fuck do you think you're doing, vi? you can't just-"

your words were cut off by her lips on yours, her tongue immediately invading your mouth, almost as if she was claiming your mouth as hers. you melt into the kiss, still feeling a little confused about this but hey you weren't complaining. you had a hot girl kissing you... who would complain?

"you're such a fuckin' slut, you know that?" vi mumbles against your mouth, her fingers moving to unbuckle her belt. vi had never called you a slut before, it weirdly made a warm feeling settle in your lower stomach… "letting some whore shove her tongue down your throat like that. i didn't know your standards were that low." vi grabs your wrists and wraps her belt around them, forcing them to be restrained behind your back. her hands grab onto your hips and spins you around so you were facing the sink. you tug on the restraints and attempt to turn around but vi simply presses down on your back, forcing you to be pinned underneath her. "stay down."

vi's tone was commanding and deeper than usual- it made you want to obey her- so you did. as you lifted your head you're met with the sight of your reflection in the mirror, pressed against the sink with vi standing behind you, unbuttoning her jeans.

"if you wanted to be fucked you should've just said so instead of throwing yourself at the first person who was willing to give you attention." you feel vi hitch the bottom of your dress up your hips and pull your panties to the side, your bare pussy greeting her. vi let out a hum before her hand came down on your ass causing your hips to involuntary jerk at the sudden spank.

"now, be a good girl and let me take care of you, yeah?" vi pulled her jeans and boxers half down, her hard cock springing free. she thrusts her hips forward, burying her cock inside of you to a hilt, not even bothering to give you a warning. no, you didn't deserve a warning.

"f- fuck!" your mouth fell open in an 'o' shape as you felt vi's cock invade your tight pussy, your walls fluttering around her length. she gave you a moment to adjust before she started to thrust her hips forward, fucking you deep.

"mmm, that's it." vi growls as she fucks in and out of you at a fast pace. her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head up so you were forced to watch yourself in the mirror. "look at yourself... look like a fuckin' slut."

all you could do was let out a whine in response and bask in the feeling of vi's cock splitting you open perfectly, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror like vi had told you to. you had never been fucked in this way before and it made you a little concerned at how much you seemed to be enjoying it. you liked having vi bound your wrists, you liked having her call you a slut and you liked having her use your body for her pleasure. it seemed you were learning some things about yourself tonight that you never thought possible.

"such a perfect pussy." vi's other hand collides with your backside again, causing a moan to spill from your lips. "oh, you like that do you? not surprised." she spanks you again, your cheeks flush red from embarrassment at how much you were enjoying this.

"think you can just let other people fuck this pussy, hm?" vi let out a dark chuckle and shook her head, her fingers tightening their grip in your hair, earning a wince from you. the pain only added to your pleasure. "it's mine."

"say it." you felt her thrust deeper, hitting that one particular spot that made your pussy clench around her. her hand met your ass again, your skin starting to turn red from her actions. "go on." spank. "say." spank. "it." spank.

"It's- my pussy is yours, vi!" you were a blubbering, moaning mess underneath her, her cock hitting your g spot deliciously with every thrust. you could tell vi was getting close too because her movements were getting sloppier and her grunts were getting louder.

"that's- hah- that's my good girl." her hand untangles from your hair and drops to rest on your hips, guiding them up and down on her cock. her head falls back as she feels herself ready to cum, her hips snapping into you faster. "yes! fuck- baby!"

vi’s load spills inside of you, filling you up with her seed. her actions cause your own orgasm to tremble over you. she stays inside of you for a short while, slowly fucking you- and herself- through the pleasure. she places a soft kiss on your shoulder and pulls out of you, her gentle actions a stark contrast from her earlier demeanour.

she pulls her boxers and jeans back up, grabs your panties and stuffs them into her pocket- saving them for later- before she tugs your dress back down. she grabs your bound wrists and undoes the belt, freeing your hands.

she grabs your hips and spins you around so you were facing her, her lips finding yours. it was a soft kiss that instantly made your heart flutter. "you're mine, cupcake."

#vi arcane #vi smut #vi arcane smut #arcane smut #wlw smut

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lolitalovess · 3 months ago

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thinking about loser vi who humps on the strap harness when she's fucking you!!

｡･ﾟ･♡･ﾟ･｡ loser vi who invites you over to her place when you mention that you're trying to organise a few study groups at the town library with a few of your friends to her. she knows she's got a shitload of assignments due by the end of the week like you, you're fun to work with, she wants to help you with your notes and you haven't been in her bed in forever. she can't help herself.

loser vi who cannot stop letting her pussy do all her thinking when you show up at her door with your laptop and books all in your bag and your smile so radiant from the familiarity of her face and the kisses she pulls you into after you handed her a pipeline punch monster.

loser vi who's sitting against the headboard of her bed with you leaning your head on her shoulder, writing perfectly detailed and descriptive notes with her hand beginning to cramp while you're reading through some article for history on your laptop for some upcoming important quiz. she can tell you're tired and bored with the way you're slumped against her, sighing through your nose without even realising and squinting your eyes from the bright screen every time she looks over at you. you have been doing this for atleast two hours - she knows that you both need a break.

loser vi who asks you if you wanna lay down and cuddle for a little while, pressing kisses to the crown of your head when you say yes and move your laptop and both of your textbooks on her bedside table, her hands on your waist as she practically guides you back to her, burying your face into her chest while she murmurs a "c'mere, baby."

loser vi who's pulled her blanket to stop at your chests, one of her hands running through your hair and she's murmuring about unimportant nothing's about her day and powder. she guides one of her hands to unclasp your bra, knowing that the fabric would be uncomfortably pressing into your skin, discarding the item by tossing it on the ground. you know the action is out of genuine love and hope to comfort you - but you also know violet well enough to already know that it's also out of lust.

loser vi who's hands are grasping your hips as leverage when fucking you with her strap another two hours later, both your and her pyjamas thrown onto the floor like your bra, her fluffy blue blanket pushed to the end of the bed. she's thrusting into you at a relentless pace, a train of whimpers, moans and curses leaving her heart shaped lips as if the rest of her family isn't in the house.

"fuck, baby," she whines, throwing her head back. back she's always been a whiner, it's one of the things you adore the most about her, apart from her hair and the love she has for you. she's the sweetest girlfriend you could be blessed with, and you're forever grateful to the foils of the universe that it gave you the chance to meet her and have her in your life.

her pace grows sloppier from a newcome friction she feels on her clit from the harness of her strap when she grinds on it, her eyes squeezing shut as she does so. she's doing both - fucking you and grinding her clit on the harness of ther strap, even if the balance between doing both is sloppy.

"look at me." you speak out, your hands squeezing her biceps as if it were the only thing you could do to stabilise yourself, which it was. you don't mind that she's doing this in anyway whatsoever. it's cute, the way her eyebrows furrow and her mouth hangs open and her tits bounce when she's becoming mayor of pound town with you, always acting like she's the one getting fucked when you are.

she complied after a few moments of bliss, tilting her head back down to look down into your eyes. you look so pretty, with the way sweat is beading down your forehead and you're grasping onto her and your pussy is taking her dick so easily. she leaned down to kiss you, whimpering into your mouth when you shove your tounge into hers and wrap your legs around her waist to encourage her movements, earning a loud moan from her when she hid her face in your neck and the both of you came at the same time, her needy pussy absolutely soaking the harness without shame.

she eventually pulls away from you after a few minutes of hugging and kissing for a few minutes, glancing over at your textbooks, dead laptop and half drank monster can sitting sadly, though her eyes shift back to your face when she notices herself yearning to look at you. "you wanna go again?"

i wrote this so fast and rushed so if it's a lil bad in some spots that's why 😭 also why half of this was hcs and the other half was like a fic LMAO

#violet arcane #arcane #vi arcane #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #violet x reader #vi #vi arcane x reader #piltover's finest #shes so cute ♡#arcane vi x you #vi x you #vi x y/n #loser vi #shes such a loser lowkey #sub vi #vi is so hot #sub vi x reader #♡

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rafesangelita · 4 months ago

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♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

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piroulinewafers · 1 month ago

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𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: colonel not-so-boyfriend-yet gets dragged through a kbeauty store by his childhood friend and realizes that watching her swatch lip tints is way more dangerous than any sort of mission he's been on.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: caleb x fem! reader

the city was noisier than caleb remembered—streetcars rolling by with that grating mechanical whine, shop signs buzzing faintly under the midday sun, the idle chatter of shoppers drifting through open-air cafés and storefronts. he should’ve been overwhelmed. too bright, too many voices, too much movement for someone fresh off the vacuum-quiet corridors of a farspace fleet cruiser.

but he wasn’t watching the city. he was watching her.

she walked half a step ahead of him, tugging him through the crowded sidewalk with the easy confidence of someone who knew where every cute corner shop and discount sticker was hidden. her cardigan had slipped off, revealing her bare shoulder beneath the tank top she wore. she paused in front of a storefront that glowed soft pink through frosted glass and turned to him, her expression hopeful.

“can we go in, gege?” he didn’t respond.

“it’s just a quick stop,” she said, already reaching for the door. she already knew his answer.

caleb lifted the strap of her frilly pink tote a little higher on his shoulder, the my melody charm bouncing cheerfully against his brass-plated rank pin. He didn’t say a word. just nodded and followed her in.

the inside was a pastel wonderland—shelves lined with color-correcting primers and bunny-shaped hand creams, rows of lip tints in neat, candy-colored arrangements. she made a beeline for the display near the center, already reaching for a tester with the kind of care he usually reserved for handling orbital detonation triggers or his gun.

caleb leaned his weight subtly against the edge of the display as she reached for tester after tester, and he let his eyes wander—not across the room, but to the tiny tubes scattered across her palm.

he watched her quietly, one gloved hand resting on the edge of the display as the other held the soft bag by its tiny satin handles. her fingers—smudged faintly with colour from earlier swatches—curved delicately as she unscrewed a rose-toned lip tint. it was a warm, dusky shade, with just enough red in it to remind him of how her cheeks looked when she got worked up over one of his teases.

she swatched it gently across the inside of her wrist, brows pinching in focus, then dabbed a bit with her fingertip and patted it onto her lower lip. the motion was unhurried, thoughtful—like she was trying to be precise, even though she probably didn’t realize how her bottom lip jutted out slightly in concentration. caleb couldn’t look away.

she was everything.

she always gravitated to the same shades, though she liked to pretend she was exploring something new. bare grape, custard mauve, peony ballet… he knew them all. not because she told him—though she sometimes muttered the names under her breath like they were secrets—but because he remembered.

he noticed. and now, watching her dab a warm rosey tone onto the curve of her lip with the tip of her pinky, he added this one to the mental list, too. he’d never forget it. just like he couldn’t forget the way she glowed under the soft store lights, like her whole world had been made of pastels and perfume and she’d still managed to drag him into it, heart and all.

the plush cardigan, the soft pout, the cinnamon-sweet scent that lingered in the air around her—every part of her was stitched into his life in a way he didn’t know how to unpick. she had always been there. and now, more than ever, he wanted to stay in her orbit.

he beckoned her closer, voice low. “come here.”

she blinked up at him, hesitant, swiping at her lip like she thought she’d smudged it. “what?”

“just testing something,” caleb said, his tone deceptively serious. “i need to know the wear-power. longevity. field test, if you will.”

she narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious. “what sort of field test?”

he tapped the side of his cheek, expression maddeningly neutral. “riiiiight here.”

her mouth parted in the tiniest gasp, colour flooding her cheeks. “y-you’re joking.”

“i’m in full uniform, baby apple,” he said, leaning in just slightly. “i never joke.”

she stood there frozen for a second, cheeks burning, then made an exasperated little noise in her throat.

“you're the worst,” she muttered again—then very quickly, very lightly, leaned in and pressed the barest kiss to his cheek.

he didn’t move. didn’t flinch. but his entire heart stuttered in his chest like someone had cut the oxygen flow. it wasn’t even that she’d done it. it was how she’d done it. shy. soft. sweet. and still pouting, like he’d tricked her into surrendering some part of herself she wasn’t ready to admit was his.

“you’re blushing,” she whispered accusingly, looking anywhere but his face. and she was right, a faint, peachy flush had settled upon his faintly freckled cheeks.

“so are you,” he said simply.

she whirled around and stomped toward the register, flustered, clutching the little box of lip tint like a weapon. he followed with a lazy pace, letting her get ahead. but the moment she reached into her pocket and tugged out her wallet, he acted.

a subtle flick of his fingers. a twist of the air pressure. the wallet slipped right out of her grasp and tumbled to the floor.

she blinked down at it, startled. “huh?”

“oops,” he said, already handing his credit card to the cashier.

“caleb—hey, no. please, you’re not—don’t you dare pay for—”

“it’s already done,” he said, not even turning to look at her as the scanner beeped and the receipt printed, credit card glinting mockingly between his fingers.

“besides, i’m the one doing the field test. consider it... part of my data collection, yeah? you were always so interested in this sorta stuff when you were younger.”

she let out a strangled huff, crouching to grab her wallet with a muttered curse and refusing to look at him for the next minute straight.

he watched her pout all the way to the exit, still red in the ears, still flustered, still clinging to the tiny pink bag now tucked snugly under his arm. she was ridiculous. completely unreasonable.

entirely his.

and caleb didn’t need a fleet of soldiers or the quiet stars of the vast space to tell him:

this was home.

reblogs and interactions are v appreciated ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

#caleb x reader #lads caleb #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb x y/n #caleb x fem reader #xia yizhou #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #love and deepspace

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jjjjisun · 2 months ago

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All Because Of A Nap

Tzuyu X Male Reader | 20039 words

TW: Incest

—

It wasn't something I planned. I'd swear that to myself later, again and again. When I look back, it wasn't as if I should have anticipated it all along. It just... happened. Okay, part of it, a large part of it, was my doing but I swear she started it. My head is still all mixed up about exactly how we got here. I guess I'll just start from the beginning.

My little sister Tzuyu was cute, hot even. Sure I've occasionally gotten excited upon seeing her scantily clad about the house, but we were truly normal siblings. Tzuyu and I fought, played, loved and hated each other the way most brothers and sisters do. She had her friends; I had mine. Sometimes we saw each other out on a Friday or Saturday night, but other than to try and hit on her friends, I pretty much stayed out of the way. It wasn't one sided either, as I had to deal with friends hitting on my little sis too.

Admittedly, she was the best looking of her friends, many of which I tried and occasionally succeeded in taking home with me. So, I just sucked it up and accepted that people were going to gawk at her wherever she went, even if she was my little sister and they were my own damned buddies.

Tzuyu was eighteen - pretty young for already having her first semester under her belt in college. She was on the volleyball team, had a steady boyfriend, and seemed to be popular in her circles. She was a pretty confident and independent girl, but I still looked out for her whenever she needed it. She had a fake ID too, and that combined with her 110 lbs. or so and inexperience with alcohol established the watchful eye I kept on her.

Like I said, she was cute. She had warm brown hair that she wore in all kinds of ways; I thought it looked best in a ponytail. Her body was athletic, but she had amazing, shapely breasts that looked like a fun handful to play with. She was almost 5'-7," and toned every inch of it - most volleyball girls were. It wasn't like I'd been fixated on her young body, but the uniforms volleyball players wore, with the tight little shorts and tops... I couldn't help but notice how enticing she'd become. Her adorable smile and deep blue eyes were just the cherry on top; I admired them often growing up.

Sure, being raised under the same roof we'd caught each other changing or coming out of the shower once or twice. Tzuyu had definitely been the first girl whose pussy I'd seen. There was that one time when I'd accidentally walked into her room while she was bottomless and bending over to pull on that damned uniform. I learned quickly that not all of them were so small and hidden between puffy little lips the way hers was...though I wished they were.

I imagine mine were the first male parts Tzuyu had seen. I was admittedly proud to see her reaction and glad she caught me soon after waking up when my morning wood had just begun to fade. Hey, that she was my sister doesn't mean I minded her seeing me at decent size; I thought maybe she'd even tell one of her friends. Then again, who was I kidding, the last thing I was going to do is tell my buddies that Tzuyu's was as perfect and sexy as they all thought she would be when naked.

All of this might make it sound like I had the hots for my sister, but I swear I did everything a brother could to not to make her an object of my fantasies. Living with such a hottie I didn't always succeed, but I did my best. I simply hoped that I got a shot with a girl as attractive;- Tzuyu definitely set the bar high.

And then, in one fateful moment things just... unraveled.

------

It was a pretty standard routine for us. Every couple of weeks when Tzuyu and I got antsy, or it was a holiday like this time, we'd make the long drive home. I did most of the driving and the little princess slept when it suited her. We made good time on this trip home for the semester break but I was still beat when we got back and needed to sleep of the road's monotony.

I was minding my business, taking a nap, when I found myself lying next to my little sister in her bed. I'd simply gone in there to lie down after a long drive home, no other reason. Her bedroom was closer than mine and always colder - far better for a much needed nap. Fuck if I was going to walk twenty more steps to my door. She must have wanted the same thing and came in later after chatting with our parents downstairs.

It wasn't uncommon, but ultimately my laziness had caused a small problem. As usual whenever I wake up, I had a rock hard erection. And with a pretty, slumbering teenager asleep next to me in her bed, my mind was soon racing with thoughts of taboo and risk. I hadn't intended it, I just couldn't prohibit my mind from putting two and two together: my arousal and my hot little sister.

My eyes wandered; I needed to 'examine the situation'. The covers were pulled over her so I couldn't see what she was wearing, but she was cuddled close enough that I could feel her bare legs against mine. She must have taken her jeans off and gotten in bed with me after I'd fallen asleep. Her hair was pushed back and I could see that second piercing on top of her ear I always liked.

'Oh no,' I thought. 'Please tell me she's asleep and has no idea.' It wouldn't have worried me if Tzuyu hadn't snuggled up so close. My erection was dangerously close to my eighteen-year-old sister and I would die if I had to explain myself because she woke up. It was likely a total accident, but I didn't know what to do; any movement could stir her awake and who knew what she might think or say.

My cock betrayed me. I heard her slow breathing, I felt her warm skin, and my hardness swelled with want that hadn't even consulted my conscious brain. It nudged against her butt, poking directly into a tender cheek. I held my breath, hoping...praying that she hadn't woken up. When I thought the coast was clear I lifted my hips and slid backward as slowly as possible, doing my best not to shake the bed or call any more attention to the forbidden contact I was making with Tzuyu's ass.

I settled about half a foot backward on the bed, listening to my little sister breathe and thinking I might have avoided a very awkward situation. Just after I came to rest, I heard a loud creak from her bed. I cursed inwardly, thinking I was done for. At least I wasn't still poking into her with an erection she could easily take the wrong way.

It was then I realized I was mistaken. It was my little sister that had caused the sound as she'd rolled my direction, bringing her hand behind her to the place where I'd touched her. And she didn't take my hard cock the wrong way, she took it in her hand. Without saying a word she wrapped her fingers around it over my thin athletic shorts.

I didn't just roll her over and fuck her or something. No way, this was my little sis and it could be a total accident that she had me in her hand. She might even have been asleep.

She simply stayed still with her fingers wrapped fully around me. It seemed like she was testing me, seeing if I would be the first to pull away. I didn't move an inch, but again my hardness gave me away. It throbbed in Tzuyu's hand, telling her how good it was to feel her holding on to her brother's cock. She maneuvered her palm to my head, extending all of her fingers and then closing them down over my shaft before drawing away and stimulating my tip wonderfully.

At first I'd wanted to believe that she was sleeping. Surely my little sis had just grabbed for something in her slumber and I just happened to be in the right place. But after a moment or so, I could feel her fingers searching and stroking. She was sliding her hand up and down the length of my shaft. People don't just do that; I knew Tzuyu had to be awake and touching me purposefully.

Even through my shorts I couldn't help but growl in approval. I didn't know what had gotten into her, but Tzuyu's hand felt so good I couldn't fathom stopping her. Did she suddenly decide she wanted to fool around with me? Was it a problem with her boyfriend? What could make her act this way with seemingly no warning? All those thoughts crowded my mind, still planted firmly in her hand.

And she didn't stop there either. I laid there anxiously as Tzuyu put her hand on my abdomen, both of us knowing what she intended to do.

Her fingers halted. The pause was long enough to make we wonder if the naughty eighteen-year-old had changed her mind or realized what she was doing. I was nervous and yet craving my sister's touch again.

I had been looking at the back of her head, with hair behind her delicate ear, and I watched as she slowly turned toward me. She looked directly into my eyes. I knew there hadn't been a mistake; she knew exactly what she was doing. I knew it better when she slid her fingers under my waistband and once again brought them to my now bare member. Her eyes were locked into mine the whole time.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't fathom what I had done to deserve my beautiful little sister's daring hand stroking me as she began to move it up and down. I tried so hard to hold her gaze but once or twice my eyes rolled in response to a strong grasp of my sister's soft palm.

Maybe I should have questioned her. Maybe I should have asked if something was wrong and she was acting out. The doubts crossed my mind for one last second when I watched my little sister do something entirely new.

Still staring into my eyes, she brought her hand out of my pants and quickly pulled my waistband down and over my bulging cock. Then, with a kind of mischievous confidence, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked a path up her palm before sinking two fingers at a time past her wet lips.

I was speechless - as I had been the entire time. I was seeing the hottest girl I knew do the sexiest thing I'd ever witnessed, awestruck as she lowered her hand back to my painfully hard staff.

Her hand slid easily over my shaft before she paid incredible attention to my sensitive tip. My hips thrust involuntarily toward her, and I finally saw Tzuyu crack a grin in pride. She rewarded me with a quickened pace, slipping her hand over my head and all the way down my shaft over and over again. Too soon I felt I was going to cum.

I reached out for her body. I simply had to feel her, to get my hands on her soft breasts or that toned midsection I'd seen too many times before. Now was my chance, the way I was spooning her gave me plenty of access to her perfect little body.

With her hand back the way it was, her chest was poised proudly for my admiration. I started with my hand on her thigh before guiding it up over the gentle curve of her hip. I was careful not to go under her shirt as I neared her ribcage, not wanting to push my luck. It was a thin cotton top, with a small spaghetti strap I could see just above the covers on her smooth, tanned shoulder.

Tzuyu purred quietly when I grasped her tit in my hand. They'd always looked so soft and squeezable and now I had proof as I cupped it carefully. Where before I hadn't even allowed the thought of feeling up my little sister beyond a quiet daydream, now that I had her, I couldn't get enough. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of her, and soon I worked my fingers under the hem of her shirt.

She didn't protest as I daringly climbed higher, feeling the bottom of her ribcage again, this time without the shirt atop it. She inhaled deeply when my fingers finally reached her breast, and I took her nipple quickly in between my thumb and forefinger. Pinching it, I heard my little sister moan. Grasping her, I felt her hips writhe beneath the covers. I pushed her shirt up swiftly and threw the covers off of us in one motion, I wanted to see her.

All this while, we hadn't said a word, and she kept stroking me below. Her head was still turned in my direction and her eyes held mine,, though occasionally we broke when pleasure got the better of us. With the blankets thrown off, I gazed down at my sister's beautiful frame. Her shirt was bunched above her breasts where I'd shoved it, and our hips had drawn closer. Now and again I could feel my tip brush against her bottoms, sending a shiver up my spine.

I continued massaging her breasts and midsection, and the look in her eyes told me she loved it. Tzuyu licked her hand a second time to wet it and once again placed it on my cock. Watching her hand descend my eyes stopped on her underwear - a wide pink band of lace wrapped around her cute hips and butt with a strip of white between her legs connecting and covering what I knew would be a tight little pussy.

The thought inspired me, I wanted to know what it would feel like if I got my fingers to Tzuyu's mound. Was she enjoying this as much as me? Would she be warm and wet like I imagined? I motioned toward my sister's panty line with the hand that had been playing with her tits, hearing her sigh regrettably that I'd left them alone.

As soon as my fingers brushed the band of pink lace around her hips, Tzuyu reached for the bottoms and pushed them down around her pert butt. As she shimmied to remove them, my head contacted dangerously close to her most forbidden place which I had yet to touch. Her willingness to take off her panties both excited and confused me, almost as much as the gentle prod to the gap between her thighs.

I was eager, I couldn't help it. I grasped her hips and thrust forward. I don't know what I was thinking. The haste at which we'd stepped into this exciting and yet frightening bout of incest had me doing before considering any kind of consequences.

Tzuyu flinched when she felt my cock between her legs. I was spooning her perfectly so if I played my cards right I could soon be fucking my little sister. Minutes ago the thought would have made me chastise myself back to reality, but now that I had the chance I wanted nothing more than to take it. I shoved my hips against Tzuyu's backside. She reached back quickly and held me off.

"Nuhh uhhh," she huffed, freezing me in place.

I wanted to so badly, my little sister was right there for the taking. Seeing her body laid out on the bed, her full tits holding in place and her abs flexing as she ground her hips against me - I wanted to simply pin her against the bed and push into her quim where my member lingered so frighteningly close.

But it was those hips and her beautifully soft butt gyrating against me that caused me to reconsider. She was trying hard to make it pleasurable for me despite being unwilling to go further.; Tzuyu was a good girl and would not tease her brother without reward, apparently.

I was close now, and though disappointed I would not be able to take Tzuyu's inner temperature with my own pulsing hot shaft, when I felt her hips rolling impressively around my cock, my regret subsided. I leaned toward my hot little teen sibling, and she back toward me.

At first I let Tzuyu continue to rotate her hips around so my cock slid beneath her lips without my moving a muscle. I had my answer to my baby sister's arousal, she was so wet I could hear the slick sound of our act below. Eventually I began to return her efforts with thrusts of my own. I was holding on to her hip and forcing my pulsing staff between her legs.

It was obvious I was doing right by Tzuyu as well, because within a moment or two her breaths were labored and quiet moans escaped her mouth between them. Each time I pushed against her, I sensed my cock rubbing her clit. She was completely bare and smooth. Her skin was soft and silky the way an eighteen-year-old's should be.

I reached my hand down between her legs from the front, wanting to bring her to an orgasm as I was so desperately near mine. I quickly found her clit, pressuring it while continuing to thrust between her legs. I think it was too much for her, like the building sensation and taboo were more than she was prepared to handle because her hand shot to mine after only a few pushes against her button.

She stopped my hand, but she was unable to stop my hips. I couldn't help grunting with each thrust between my teenage sister's gap, and Tzuyu was beyond trying to conceal her enjoyment so she was moaning and gasping louder now. I worried our parents would hear; they were probably in the kitchen getting dinner ready and not far enough to be so careless. But none of that was enough to stop chasing our climaxes.

I hadn't had a chance to think about what we were doing. One thing had simply led to another and I knew that I was willingly along for the ride. Tzuyu had started it, surely, but I wanted her badly and with my hands holding her tight I wasn't going to let go until we had both finished. I loved Tzuyu so much, and what we were doing was crazy and impulsive and wrong, but I didn't care. As I slid my cock between her thighs the only thought I had was if I would get the chance to fuck my incredibly hot little sister. Tzuyu had unlocked me, for now, into unleashed desire for her and realization that she was every bit as beautiful and seductive as my buddies said. I'd always known but I'd buried it deep, until now when she was naked in bed with me and unthinkably approving of the way my cock was gliding between her legs.

Her hand started to encourage mine in circles over her clit again, and once or twice my head took a slightly different angle, just barely prying her lips apart and threatening entry. I think it got Tzuyu even hotter because of it.

Then, suddenly she was shaking. Her hand was clenched around mine and forcing it roughly against her mound. I watched as my little sister turned to muffle herself against the bed.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck... " she said into the pillow. It was too much for me.

I felt the familiar feeling of semen rising from deep inside of me. Withdrawing so my head was just within the diamond shaped opening between her thighs I spurted out what would be an incredible amount of cum onto my little sister. Still I urged my cock between, not wanting to let the wonderful feeling of her legs hugging me go away.

She was a mess, quivering and panting while I coated her with my forbidden sperm all over the place a brother was never supposed to see, let alone touch. When it was all done, and I could feel she had ridden out her orgasm, I began to take in my surroundings.

What we just did, whatever it was, had to have been as erotic a scene as I would ever experience. Tzuyu, my little sister, lay there with her shirt bunched up and panties around one ankle. She looked beautiful with a light sheen of sweat and that incredible chest of hers still rising and falling with each panting breath. And Tzuyu's tiny opening was utterly smeared with the result of our "nap."

After all, that was how it had all begun. An innocent nap on my sister's bed had ended with me pumping generously all over her young mound. God it was so wrong and simultaneously so unfathomably hot:: her little pink pussy coated in my cum and the way she was purring because of it. I desperately needed to know what she was thought of it all.

She finally turned toward me, surveying my emotions, and with raise of an eyebrow and a sideways little glance, I knew she was with me. What had happened, whatever it was, was okay with both of us. In fact I was still hard and I had not even gotten the chance to make love to my baby sister. Where it hadn't been before, now all I could think about was fucking Tzuyu, making her athletic little body squirm ... and soon.

It didn't seem she was going to allow it. She rolled off the bed and stood up from it gracefully.

"Wh...where are you going...?"

She looked at me curiously from above.

"Well..." she said, reaching for her shirt and pulling it up over her head right in front of me. "I have my brother's cum all over my pussy, and I'm not on any birth control right now soooo... I should probably take a shower and wash it off."

I was stunned... I had been the entire time. Looking at my naked little sister and admiring the body I'd just had my hands all over, I still couldn't believe what we'd just done. She looked down at the mess we had made and I did too. She was right, there was gleaming white spunk all over her and her inner thighs were shining with her own fluids as well.

As she turned to walk toward the bathroom I called after her,

"Waitt... Tzuyu... I..." but I couldn't say any more. My brain was spinning in circles and whatever I'd thought to tell her was gone.

"Oh shush," she said casually, "We were just having a bit of fun. Thanks for making me cum by the way Oppa!"

With that, she smiled and closed the door to the bathroom behind her. I wondered if she meant for me to follow her in, but I heard the door lock instead.

All I could think was... 'what...the...fuck...just happened?'

My mind may have been racing, but as I heard the shower running I kept envisioning one thing definitively: Tzuyu's naked little body pelted with warm streams of water. I imagined her nipples were hard and she was slowly washing away our sticky remnants from between her legs. I laid there for a few more moments before slowly pulling myself up, putting my shorts back on and going to my own room to shower as well.

It was all I thought about. In the shower...later at the dinner table with our parents... as we sat and watched TV... Tzuyu didn't show anything that might give us away. Before she had come into the room there had been no indication we would be fooling around any time soon, and as I looked at her, totally casual in a tight tank top showing her stomach and grey sweatpants beneath, I believed for a moment nothing had changed.

'Fuck,' I thought, creating a scene in my head where I tore her clothes off and ravished her on the couch with no regard for our parents sitting there. I was just to the part where I had pulled her pants and underwear down at once and was about to finally line up and...

"I'm gonna go to bed," Tzuyu announced to us. My mom and dad said goodnight, and I mumbled the same. As my sister walked by I watched closely. She smiled at me and raised her eyebrows. That look... it was as if everything Tzuyu did turned me on. Did she want me to follow her? Maybe I would get to have another go with her after all.

Watching her saunter off, I decided I would wait an appropriate amount of time before heading upstairs after her. I was a man possessed. My hot sister had given me a little and I wanted it all. And I'm not selfish, she looked so cute as she was cumming in my arms earlier that I absolutely wanted to see it again. I would kiss her and lick her, worship her, for hours if that's what it took, especially if it meant I could sink into her afterwards and fuck her tiny pussy until she screamed.

I reached her door, mouth watering, and seeing it open I walked near to look inside. She was in the bathroom, and when she came out she was wearing a t-shirt that just barely covered her bottom and concealed her tantalizing parts beneath. She saw me in the doorway, frozen once again, and walked toward me purposefully.

I was leaning in to the room when she reached the door, and she outstretched a hand to my chest. Cocking her hips to the side she addressed me,

"So... you're here for more or something?" she said with attitude.

"I...I..." I stammered. I was usually never at a loss for words, but Tzuyu had me.

"Look, I'm not sorry about what happened today..." she paused, "but it doesn't mean you can just come up here and expect to get in bed with me."

I didn't have an answer for her. That was exactly what I had come upstairs for.

"Mom and Dad are right downstairs, they'll be up to say goodnight soon... or didn't you think about that?"

Nope, I hadn't considered that either. Tzuyu read the answer on my face and giggled, which made me feel only slightly better. She smiled at me; I couldn't help but look disappointed which obviously entertained her. I was hard, rock solid, and I desperately wanted to get in bed and play with her.

She used the hand that she'd placed on my chest and pushed me out of the way of the door. Slowly shutting it she looked down before it finally closed, seeing the tent in my pants and then back up at me.

"It's pretty big... by the way... That's why I wanted to feel it. Goodnight OPPA." She spoke with a smirk, and shut the door.

Again - 'what... the... fuck...is going on here,' I said to myself. I felt cheated, and horny, and desiring my little sister more than ever now that she'd denied me. I limped back to my room with a hurt pride and a throbbing problem. All I wanted was to feel Tzuyu's tiny hand wrapped around my shaft again and she'd unfalteringly told me no. I hated being so helpless.

I must have gotten myself off three times that night thinking of her. I knew it was wrong, but I was past the point of caring. I was merely worried that I'd never get my hands on her perfect breasts or feel that pert little ass of Tzuyu's rubbing up against me again. I schemed ways I would be able to get her alone in the next few days.

And then... nothing.

None of my schemes were possible the next day, I only saw Tzuyu for a moment or two and she locked her door that night. It was Tuesday night that we'd woken up together and by Saturday I still hadn't gotten more than a moment or two alone with her. I prayed that she was just biding her time, and when we were together she was normal as can be - which meant cute, bubbly and talkative as she always was with me. I don't know how I hadn't been drawn to her like this before...

I'd never felt doubt and uncertainty like I did in those few days. Did Tzuyu know the effect she was having on me? She would avert her eyes if they met mine for too long, but then she'd brush by me and touch my arm as we did dishes in the kitchen after dinner. She smiled affectionately and laid down next to me on the couch with her long legs across my lap on Friday and Saturday morning, but with my parents there I didn't dare touch.

She must have known. I concluded that Tzuyu was playing hard-to-get perfectly, but even believing that didn't cause me to want her less. By the time our family had come over on Saturday afternoon for our little cousin Ren's birthday party and a sort-of family reunion, I was so confused I had trouble focusing on anything.

'Oh... My... God..." I thought as I watched Tzuyu step out onto the deck to help prepare for the gathering. She looked so amazing in her bathing suit that I practically fell in the pool instead of skimming it.

It was dark blue... wonderfully simple, and yet fit so well it looked like it was made for her. On each hip there was a gold hoop connecting the bottoms, and one atop both triangles over her tits. The bikini top held her breasts snugly in place, with enough skin showing to remind me just how ample they'd been in my hands. When she ambled down the steps both wonderful globes jiggled in place. And finally, her beautiful face glowed tan, with a hint of makeup and framed by brown hair which was full, tussled and wavy.

Part of it was my recent decision to let my eyes wander and mind free to dream up all of the things I wanted to do to her. But mostly, I think Tzuyu had finally become the absolute beauty I always knew she'd be growing up. At eighteen, I don't think she could have gotten any hotter than she was walking around in that snug two-piece, and if not I was in trouble. I tried so hard not to stare, but I knew she saw me. As my little sister approached me she blushed, and I quickly looked down like I hadn't been undressing her with my eyes.

"Do you need help?" She asked sweetly. Girls that looked the way Tzuyu did weren't supposed to be so kind or loving. It would have made things easier for me at least.

I flicked my eyes up at her and tried not to stare anywhere, like her bare, flat stomach and the tiny jewel she'd begged my mom for when she was fourteen. "Y...yeah... I still gotta vacuum the bottom, think you could grab it from the shed?"

"Sure!" She agreed with a pretty smile before turning around and walking away.

How could she be so cruel to me, I thought. It wasn't fair that she could look so gorgeous and parade around the house like she was, dangling herself in front of me.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the petite brown-haired beauty sauntered over to the shed in our backyard. Her bottoms weren't a thong or anything, but they left enough bare cheek for a flashback to thrusting against Tzuyu's backside in her bed.

"NO No no no no..." I heard my little sister say frantically from across the yard. "There is no way I'm reaching under there to get that!" She called to me.

I laughed. I should have known a few cobwebs would make Tzuyu squeal; she could be such a baby. I quickly set down my skimmer and walked back to the shed.

"Please Oppa,?" She yelled, still standing in the doorway and looking in. When she turned around I was already there.

"Ohh," she gasped, giggling a bit and looking up at me. She hadn't expected me right behind her. "Do you think you could...um..." Tzuyu was a little flustered, and I thought I saw her eyes wander over my bare chest. "Can you get it for me?"

She didn't step back, and neither did I. For the first time since Tuesday, I kind of felt like I was in control of the situation. I could have reached out and touched her, maybe taking hold of her hips. I think both of us expected something. Nobody was around, nobody would see, perhaps just a touch... I could hear Tzuyu inhaling deeply through her nose; her body language begged me to act.

What little distance there was between us, Tzuyu attempted to close it. With her back arched to show off her wonderful boobs to me, and her mound covered in only the fabric of her suit, I could have lifted up her tiny body and pinned her against the shed.

I wanted to. Actually, I wanted to lay her in the grass right there and fuck her senseless. I wanted to rip off what little bit of clothing she was wearing. Seeing the faint outline of her nipple through its fabric I wanted to tear the top from her and free her perfect breasts.

But I didn't. Knowing I might curse myself for it later, I reached out,...hearing Tzuyu inhale sharply... I touched her on the shoulder, and with enough force to surprise her I pushed her aside.

I didn't bother to look at her; the little gasp she emitted said it all. I had shunned my little sister who, despite her best efforts, had expected me to bend to her every will. It was no match for that time in her bed, but it felt good.

During the party I would replay the event in my head between visions of what had been, and what could have been. Sometimes I caught Tzuyu looking my way when she thought I didn't know. Giving my cousin Jin too much attention seemed to buy me her watchful eye.

Tzuyu gained the upper hand again when we were playing a game with the younger cousins. I'd ended up wrestling her in the deep end and couldn't avoid my hands finding their way to her butt. Whether her thigh ended up between mine and rubbed against my crotch intentionally or not, it was my little sister who pushed away first. That quick interaction left me unable to get out of the pool for over ten minutes.

As I soaked in the water, waiting for my arousal to subside before getting out, Tzuyu stood nearby drying off. Something seemed different, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but her eyes seemed suggest she was scheming. Her hands were over her head, drying off that mane of hair, and her body was on display for my hungry eyes.

It was strange having this secret between us. My other cousins probably noticed how phenomenal my sister looked in that blue number, or how alluring it was to watch her use both hands to adjust each breast in the top. But the exchanged glances, and the unknown feelings and urges we were having toward each other were uniquely our own.

Everyone was getting their food out on the patio and sitting down about the yard when I finally got out of the pool. Tzuyu had left my sight just long enough for my blood pressure to drop back to a normal level.

I walked inside and immediately the cool air in the house made goosebumps appear on my skin. I knew Tzuyu was inside too; I guess I just wanted to be nearer to her. She smiled at me as I walked in and grabbed a glass from the cabinet nearby, filling it with iced tea. I stood against the countertop and looked at her, leant over the sink and washing a few dishes. The silence... the tension... it was palpable.

Tzuyu looked in my direction with a mischievous smile. She knew I would be watching her, and this time she didn't seem inclined to pretend I wasn't - everybody else was outside and she could see them safely through the window.

Our gaze met for the umpteenth time that day. It wasn't as if we were too scared to talk, our eyes simply said more. Tzuyu looked toward her backside, she was obviously bending an extra bit to show it off. My eyes followed hers and I watched as she shook her butt deliberately. It jiggled ever so little, and fuck was it sexy to watch.

"Tzuyu..." I breathed. I didn't even know I'd said it until she smiled wide upon seeing my reaction. She bit her lower lip, I must have made her feel truly sexy.

"Come here," she called to me.

I moved toward her, entranced. My feet carried me so I was right behind her. When I was close enough she reached behind for my hand and pulled me in tight, placing my palm on her tummy. I felt like a child as she showed me what to do. The unknown territory and the absolute puzzle of teasing and withholding she'd drawn me into had my intentions drawn up in knots.

"You want me, huh?" she asked quietly, leaning back as I wrapped around her a bit tighter. I found my voice.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked. She giggled adorably, and my cock throbbed between us. She wasn't moving her hips, but I could feel her cute ass pressing against me with only a few layers of fabric between us.

Now full and hard, my erection had made its way up to my waistband. My little sister could feel it there, I knew it because she eventually began to wiggle her hips up and down on me, standing on tiptoe to do so.

"God you're big," she whispered to me, both my ego and my cock inflated in response. I reached in front of her and brought my fingers to her mound. I knew we had to be extra careful with so many family members near but I had to feel her, to make her squirm.

"Tzuyu?"

"...unhhh... what Oppa?" She huffed as I pressed my fingers against her clit.

"I can't help it..." I started, feeling her squeeze me between the cleft in her cheeks as I spoke, "you're just so fucking gorgeous...I want..." I paused, afraid how she'd take what I wanted to say.

Tzuyu pushed me back with her backside, turning in my arms.

"I know what you want Oppa..." she said sweetly, looking right at me as she did before kissing my chest.

"I know you've been thinking about it, because I have too..." she kissed my neck... "I know how bad you want it..." Finally, she kissed my lips. We hadn't yet done that, and the feeling of her, warm and soft... I wished it would never end.

"We just... can't..." she said, with true remorse in her voice. I looked at her, and we stood there in silence. The yelling of our cousins and the boisterous laughter of our aunts and uncles came through the sliding door. Looking deeply at me, she spoke again.

"It's too risky... look at how we're acting right now!"

Sure, she had a point, but hadn't she initiated this very embrace? It seemed to me that despite her games, she wanted it as badly as I did. Instead of arguing with her, I did what my body told me to and pushed my hips against her, hoisting her slightly against the edge of the counter. I was hard, very hard, and I know she felt it against her because she inhaled sharply.

"You have to stop..." she demanded.

But I didn't want to stop, I liked having my little sister's waist in my hands and the undeniable feelings we were both having, despite her protest. I knew that this might be my last chance to be with Tzuyu now that she'd stated her case.

A few days before we had just been loving brother and sister. Indeed, lust had gotten the better of me. Tzuyu, in her infinite beauty, had me pining to touch her more, feel her, take her... But the pure ferocity of my desires was fueled by that long-standing love and affection we'd shared; I knew that much. Now, with my beautiful little sibling ripe for the taking, I badly wanted to make love to her and discover her more deeply as a sister and a lover. Pinned against the counter and with all the signs of her physically allowing my actions, I grew bolder.

I slid my hands down a few inches and took her bottoms with them. Tzuyu let me, and looked over her shoulder through the window to ensure nobody was going to catch us in the act. I don't know why she let me do it, maybe she didn't know what I intended to do.

I looked down below us, at the bare skin above Tzuyu's slit. Even from this angle I could see she was very wet. I reached down with my palm upward. My sister caught my wrist, but not before my finger could land perfectly over her clit and positioned just right for me to urge into her.

I did just that, after teasing around her opening for a few seconds. Her grip tightened on my arm as I slipped my middle finger into her. My god was she tight. Only one finger inside and I knew that my little sis was as snug as they come.

"Fuuuucck..." she hissed as I wiggled it inside of her. Though Tzuyu was resistant to having sex with me she certainly wasn't making any moves to stop me fingering her.

My little sister reached back and braced herself with a hand on the countertop. As she nervously glanced through the window to the party outside, we both felt the exhilaration of our forbidden actions with imminent discovery only a frighteningly close distance away.

I began plunging my finger inside of Tzuyu faster and pressuring her mound as much as possible with the palm of my hand. Watching her writhe, her gorgeous body half on and half off of the countertop, I found myself urging my hips against her as well. I was hard for her, so incredibly filled with lust that it couldn't be helped.

"Oppa... seriously... uhhhh... Oppa!"

I knew if I kept going, I would make my beautiful little sister cum. It was obvious that my hand was caressing her insides just right, but the tone of Tzuyu's voice was probably spurred by something else. Whether she meant to or not, my little sister's hand had found its way over my shorts and to the long path of my hard cock beneath. I simply reached down and tugged at the waistband to free the velcro and drawstring that had kept my erection within.

Now that my shorts were open, Tzuyu's hand was on bare skin, and I don't think she expected it. Either that, or the fact that seconds later my tip was precariously close to her dripping wet lips, but my little sister was not happy. I knew it was a risky situation, and that we could be found committing incest by any one of our nearby relatives with little notice. I could hear my dad laughing and my uncle finishing another one of his stupid jokes through the open door, but I didn't care. Yet, my middle finger was still immersed in my sister's tight, teenage pussy and I wanted nothing more than to replace it with my cock.

"Don't... don't... ohhhhh... dooooon't...please Oppa...fuckk..." I really shoved my finger up into her then; Tzuyu was going to cum. I massaged her, with a finger inside and a hand under the triangle of cloth over her breast.

I wanted to, but I simply couldn't fuck my little sister without her permission. It felt good enough that Tzuyu had my shaft pinned against her thigh and was stroking me to the best of her ability as orgasm approached and overtook her. Her other hand was haphazardly scanning my body, grabbing at the arm which was reaching down below, or at my chest and shoulder so she could simply feel me.

Her breasts felt incredible, her body felt incredible, and when our lips touched as Tzuyu was trembling through the remainder of her orgasm, that felt incredible too. We'd hardly more than peck each other's lips yet, and my little sister might not have allowed the darting of our tongues if she hadn't been shivering through a wonderful climax. We were lucky that nobody had decided to step inside at that moment, because neither of us intended to part, at least until the beautiful brunette in front of me had given me leave.

Slowly, I withdrew my finger from Tzuyu's tunnel. Her walls objected with gentle suction until my fingertip brushed finally over the hood of her clitoris, causing Tzuyu to shudder in such a way that my cock bobbed against my little sis with arousal.

Our foreheads were pressed together, and my little sister had her delicate hand still wrapped convincingly around my shaft. I wondered what she was thinking, for her body language spoke a message utterly apart from the words she had spoken. She whispered to me, as if someone might overhear.

"God you're such a jerk," we both laughed, Tzuyu between shortened breaths, "why did you do that to me?"

"Because I know you wanted me to..." I told her. She was still sliding her hand up and down my shaft, the feeling of her thigh and fingers driving me wild. "Come on Tzuyu, why did you let me?"

She rolled her eyes, annoyed, but with a smile so I knew my question wasn't entirely unfounded. And still she was holding on to my hard staff. She must have meant to, because below us my little sister was playing with my tip and it was lingering but an inch from her opening. Between her thighs and in her hand she held me, her bikini bottoms hastily pushed down to the floor and my trunks open just enough for her access.

At first I was watching her hand and agonizingly wondering what she planned to do. When I looked up I could see that she, instead, had been watching me. I think it excited her, my uncertainty and simultaneous desire for her. I could have come then if I didn't think I might be inside of the gorgeous little teenager in a moment or two.

"This is as far as I'm gonna let us go, Oppa, I'm serious." She said when our eyes locked.

Damnit, I thought, she wasn't going to give in. The little tease. I'd just made her moan and shiver herself into a huge climax on our kitchen counter and she was still withholding. The depressing thought that I'd never make love to her was a real possibility that entered my mind.

I tested her anyway, urging my hips forward so my cock was sent between her legs. Tzuyu shook her head no. And though I could feel her jump when my tip was sent skirting her clit and the lips I so desperately desired to open to me, she prevented it with a push of her hand.

"It's not gonna happen Oppa..."

It didn't seem fair. I hadn't started all of this. It was Tzuyu who had caused the evolution of my thoughts and the final acceptance of how undeniably gorgeous and seductive my little sister was. It was Tzuyu who had flaunted her body and delivered those mischievous glances and touches in the last few days. Sure, I had jumped at every opportunity, but I wanted to consummate what she'd been hinting at all along.

I grabbed her hips tight, feeling her hipbones beneath. I felt her grip on my cock loosen as she sensed what I was doing. If she let go I could just shove forward and bury myself into her, ending this stupid game and breaking through the wall that stood between us.

"Don't you dare," Tzuyu said.

I pushed, she wasn't strong enough to stop me. My cockhead mashed against her clit, and Tzuyu's head swiveled in response. I thought I could feel her lips parting as my tip found them. My little sister had her hand on my cock so she was unfortunately still in control. Though I tried to angle correctly, she swiftly guided me so when my hips met hers I was snug between her thighs again. I'd felt that already; I wanted more.

I think my little sister knew by the time she looked into my eyes that I didn't intend to give up. She glared at me, then down to where she was holding me tediously close to sinking inside of her... then through the window again. It suggested to me that she wasn't entirely committed to stopping me; my heart was pounding in my chest at the possibility.

I was holding my breath and feeling incredibly nervous. I wondered if Tzuyu could tell. I was about to fuck my little sister on the kitchen counter; would she blame me for being so brazen? It seemed as if I had wanted her forever. Now was my chance. I took hold of her wrist; inches from my grasp she had her fingers wrapped around my hard cock. And inches from that was my tip, the head of her own brother's cock, prodding at her tiny opening and begging her to allow me to lock us together in incest.

I tugged at her wrist strongly. She could have stopped me. She could have put up a fight, but I knew her heart wasn't in it when I felt her willingly let go of my rod and allow me to guide her hand to the counter on which she sat and hold her there. She was going to let me fuck her.

One hand on her left wrist and the other on her right, she still feigned to resist me. I watched her bite her lip, felt her stand on her toes. She wiggled in front of me, halfheartedly trying to free her hands.

I think I could have angled just right to follow through with it, she was just so damn wet. My head urged at her outer lips, and quickly slid enticingly up her slit, missing her entrance. Tzuyu opened her mouth a little bit; I could feel her tremble.

I wish I had done it: finally pushed my cock into my little sister's pussy... filled her up with every inch of me. I wish I had because that's when my mom called from the patio...

"Kids!" we heard through that open door.

'God damnit!' I thought. We both stood in silence. My cock was shoved between us against Tzuyu as we listened for our mother's next words.

"What are you doing in there, can't you come out?"

Tzuyu and I looked at each other, my intentions were unchanged but she looked as if she'd changed her mind. I was still going to go for it, and withdrew from her in order to try again. If I just hurried I could take her... I pointed my cock back toward her entrance. 'Please just let this temptation end,' I thought.

This time she actually did stop me, slipping her hands from beneath mine on the counter and shoving me away.

I was dumbfounded. My mouth hung open in disbelief.

She quickly reached for her bottoms and pulled them up, lucky that they were still wet from the pool. The sheen of her arousal was apparent to me on her mound as I watched until she lifted the blue bottoms to cover it. I thought she might just walk out without saying anything, but she then walked up close to me.

She reached down; I had no words. She grabbed my cock and shoved it into my trunks. It didn't fit well, still sticking up and out of my waistband.

"I told you we couldn't do this. See what I mean?" She had this smug grin on her face that I thought still looked sexy.

"You might want to wait to come out until you're not so..." she began, lacing up my shorts deliberately "...large." An inch or two of me was still showing above the bow she tied, she tenderly slid her fingers around me and pushed my cock to the side.

I was still speechless. I watched her spin hastily towards the door, seeing her breasts and butt jiggle beautifully. I knew she was smirking, though I couldn't see it as she walked away without another word.

'Again!' I screamed inwardly. I hated Tzuyu for depriving me after she'd so clearly teased me into a sexually starved frenzy. There were other girls I could have, some even that were only a quick text message away. But I wanted this one. I wanted my little sister. I wanted to strip her, manhandle her and then, finally, fuck her like she'd been begging and teasing for.

It took me a few minutes before I could even walk outside, mostly because I was fuming and partly because my cock refused to forget the sight and feeling of my hot little sister bottomless on the kitchen counter.

Tzuyu didn't even avoid my gaze when we were both seated outside. When my eyes pointed in her direction, whether to glare angrily or stare at her perfect breasts in that bikini top, she looked back unapologetically. I saw her bite her lip once when she felt me look down at her chest. I had to focus on eating just to withhold my animal instinct to pounce across the table and lay Tzuyu out in front of the entire family... even that thought made my trunks stir.

The rest of the night went pretty much the same way. God was I mad at her. I couldn't understand why she would initiate everything and then just go cold on me at her convenience. She had to know what she'd started and that I'd want more now that she'd granted me a sample of the fantasies of her that had often as I slept.

Tzuyu may have sensed it, but she didn't steer clear of me. I allowed the sympathetic thought that she might have been as fixated on thoughts of me as I was her and that was drawing her close. I lightened up by the time it was getting dark. When she came to sit close to me around the bonfire later that night I could feel my frustration begin to eek away, replaced instead by her presence as she wrapped around my arm.

She was making little effort, in my opinion, to hide that there was something going on between us. I kept looking around nervously to determine whether someone around the bonfire could tell. I guess they didn't know that my little sister and I had gotten each other off in her bed a few days ago, or in the kitchen as they ate, so they didn't see her affection as out of the ordinary.

I knew I wasn't going to get a chance to do anything more than squeeze my fingers against Tzuyu's side as we sat together that night. I was so distracted. Feeling her next to me, the warmth of her body and that subtle vanilla smell I think came from her conditioner, most of the night was a blur. I did have a good time; hanging out with my extended family and putting back a few beers always proved fun. I could tell Tzuyu was getting a bit drunk off her intake because she leaned more and more into me as the fire burned down. I would never tire of the feeling of her breast squished against me; she was probably doing it intentionally.

Tzuyu and I were both going to have roommates that night as we had little cousins littered about the house while their parents, my aunts and uncles that had a few too many drinks that night, slept it off until the morning. Something about the way Tzuyu had looked at me when she knew what I planned to do on the kitchen counter had me drifting off to sleep that night with a glimmer of hope.

But before I got in bed, with our cousins chattering in each of our rooms and my little sister and I preparing for bed, I found myself alone in the hallway. Tzuyu stopped me on her way to the bathroom. I was walking sleepily toward my door and before I reached it I felt a hand on my chest. Next thing I knew my little sister had pushed me into the darkened laundry room and was pinning me against the door.

Her lithe little body was pressed against mine and I felt no inclination to move as I took her in. She was wearing a pretty simple flannel PJ set with low riding pants cinched around her tiny waist. She must have 'accidentally ' forgotten to button up the top because it was hanging open and she'd changed into a light purple bra that snugly held her tits in place.

She was silent at first. The only sounds I could hear were the giggling of my nearby cousins and my little sister's quiet breathing. For a few moments she seemed content just to let me look at her, and her at me. Then she looked as if she was going to say something, but decided against it. Instead she stood slowly on her tiptoes to level her eyes with mine.

Her eyes were fixed on mine and her lips so close. My hands moved on their own to my baby sister's sides. They slipped easily past her open nightshirt and found her bare skin. She was so fit I could feel her core muscles flexing as she stretched to stand as tall as me. As soon as she felt me holding her she gained some confidence and kissed me.

At first I just let her. I wanted her so badly, but playing directly into her game hadn't worked out so well for me yet. She fidgeted, seemingly hoping I would move my hands around on her stomach. When I did, I guess I just melted. I couldn't touch her like and feel her lips hungry for me to kiss her back without doing so. It felt dangerous, so close to our own cousins and kissing like we hadn't a care in the world.

I eventually gave into her entirely, and before long I was fully hard and pushing out my hips into Tzuyu. She was grinding against me, and every so often I could feel my cock wedging between her thighs. We were making out unabashedly, my hands were roughly handling her and palming her breasts over the bra. I'm not sure I've ever been so passionate with a girl besides her before or since.

I wondered if it was because Tzuyu had been drinking. After all, she was only a tiny eighteen-year-old and I'd seen her toss quite a few back. Or maybe it was because we'd been so close to the real thing before. She had protested convincingly, but once again I was utterly confused by her behavior. I suppose this unknown territory we were traversing had both my little sister and I acting unpredictably at every step.

I remember I was moving my hands down beneath the waistband of her PJs when we heard the bathroom door close.

"Holy shit!" my little sis whispered. She leaned into me as close as possible and peeked out the door.

Had someone seen us? Had someone walked by when we were caught up making out in the room right next door. I looked around us, we were obscured in darkness in the tiny room and only the light from beneath the bathroom door was casting a pale light into the hallway. I hoped we were safe, but couldn't know for sure.

Seconds later someone was brushing their teeth in the bathroom and Tzuyu and I breathed a little easier. If we had been seen, whichever one of our cousins that had walked by probably wouldn't have just moved on and gone about their routine. Regardless, Tzuyu still spoke very softly.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked sweetly. Her big blue eyes looked up at me nervously.

I wanted to say yes. I was pissed, at some point in the evening, that she was denying me what I thought we both wanted. I guess I had kind of forgotten for a while that I was her big brother, that I should have been able to keep my composure and not anger so easily at her withholding.

It was for that reason that I told her "No, I'm sorry I was so pissed for a while there."

"I could tell," she responded, "you were being kind of a dick."

I didn't really like hearing that, and she must have noticed because as soon as she saw my glare she continued. "You were going to fuck me, right on the kitchen counter. I said no and you were still going to do it!" Again, I was not pleased. She was right, but I could feel her riling me up. "I bet you'd fuck me right now if I let you!" She was whispering as quietly as possible while still gazing at me wide-eyed and with plenty of attitude.

It was all incredibly confusing. Here I was with a hard-on for my little sis, which was still pinned between us and my hands still in her flannel PJs on her pert little ass, but I was getting scolding for wanting to bang my younger sister. Not to mention she kept saying "fuck me" and her language was arousing me like none other.

"Tzuyu, come on!" I complained. I had to catch myself so I wasn't too loud. "I won't blame you for what I want to do with you, but please don't pretend you're innocent."

I could tell that she was actually listening to me, for a change.

"One day we're fooling around in bed and the next morning it's like you've completely forgotten." She scoffed as I said it. I continued anyway, "and you looked fucking gorgeous in your swimsuit... you look fucking gorgeous right now, You keep teasing me too; what do you want me to do? "I could tell she liked hearing me praise her, but she was way too stubborn to give in so easily.

"Look," she answered, "I'm not saying I don't want it as badly as you do, because I do. I've had dreams about you since I was fifteen, and then you were in my bed, and then I felt you poking my butt with your big cock and I got horny and then I just kind of acted without thinking."

She was racing through the explanation, probably because we heard our cousin stop brushing their teeth in the room next door. "But you can't just fuck me. First of all, you're really big and I can't just take you on the kitchen counter. Which you were GOING TO DO."

"Second, look at us. We could get in so much trouble. What if whoever is in the bathroom had seen us?"

"Hey," I interrupted, "you stopped me and kissed me!" I was still reeling from hearing that she had fantasies about me. I'd definitely thought about her before, but until she was stroking me in her bed I'd never been bold enough to do anything about it.

"Ugh," she sounded, "whatever."

We were silent for a moment. We were both feeling argumentative, turned on, and confused. The combination made it hard to fire back at each other. Even so, the little tease was still moving her hips around. I don't know if it was just to screw with me or, more likely, she was doing it to make herself feel good.

I ran my hands firmly from her hips all the way up to her breasts, massaging her roughly as I did. Despite her attitude and the words coming out of her mouth, I could feel her breathe deeply and writhe in my hands. I wanted her to just give in to the desires she was clearly feeling and stop posturing herself.

But I knew she wouldn't, especially not tonight. Before my cousin could come out and pass us again Tzuyu pushed away from me and walked, no strutted, back to her room. I backed further into the laundry room and waited for my cousin Chao to pass. He clearly had no idea we had been in there.

I went to bed that night frustrated and still completely turned on. The hour or so it took me to fall asleep my mind raced between visions of my bottomless little sis in the kitchen, or in that cute bra in the hallway, and then the anger I felt about her teasing. A selfish part of me hoped that she would be brooding just the same in the room down the hall.

The next day most of our extended family left. To my dismay, my Aunt Cheng and Uncle Wei hadn't booked a flight out for another two days. They always pulled shit like that: overstaying their welcome, in my opinion. And this time we'd be stuck with little ones sleeping in mine and Tzuyu's bedrooms for two more nights. I was utterly depressed. If only I had a little privacy, where perhaps I could slip into Tzuyu's room and lay with her for a little while until she snuggled up to me like she'd done before. Sadly, I'd not get the chance.

And yet, the next morning, more inexplicable behavior from my sister. I was brushing my teeth in the same bathroom we'd made out and then argued next to the night before. Tzuyu came in wearing some ridiculous workout outfit. Her top was not much more than a light blue sports bra and her shorts a tiny pair of black spandex material with white trim. Her tube socks that matched the top and a pair of new sneakers rounded off the whole thing and made her appear beyond adorable. The eighteen-year-old looked incredibly tan and lean, and showing so much skin that I was practically drooling as I watched her in the mirror.

I expected to get nothing from her after our disagreement the night before. I was wrong. Maybe having cousins in her bedroom for the night had kept her from taking care of some of the sexual tension I'd felt between us in the laundry room. Whatever it was, I watched in disbelief as Tzuyu came up behind me and I could feel her breasts pressing against my back. Holding my gaze in the mirror she slid her arms, slowly but determinedly , to my front and over the shorts I'd worn to bed.

"Are you always hard?" she asked innocently.

"That must be difficult for you." She continued, sounding snide.

Her hands were both, one after the other, caressing the length of my shaft through my shorts. I had been somewhat hard as I usually was in the morning, and more so when I saw my little sister in that damned running outfit. But after feeling the teenager's hands rubbing me, I was positively pining for relief.

I'd stopped brushing my teeth, so my hand hung there suspended in my disbelief. With my other hand I had to brace myself on the vanity because Tzuyu's touch was so amazing that my knees were feeling weak. She was holding tightly to me from behind so I could feel all of her tiny frame and still she was leaning to look at me in the eye.

It felt incredible, though I wanted to get my hands on some of the exposed stomach of my little sister's or the tight material that made her butt look so graspable. I was content to let her continue rubbing me for another minute or so, but thinking about how hot she looked in her outfit made me excited to seat her on the vanity like we had in the kitchen the day before.

I was glad I waited because a few seconds later Tzuyu pulled back the elastic of my shorts and shoved her hand in to grab my cock. She took it firmly in her hand and encircled it with her fingers.

"Holy crap," she exclaimed with big eyes, "I guess I keep forgetting how big you are."

She gently ran her fingers from base to tip and back before grabbing me firmly again. I knew my little sister hadn't had more than a boyfriend or maybe two so her experience was limited, but it was if everything she did was just perfectly sexy. I could never tire of the taboo behavior we had been acting out in the last few days.

And then... it was over.

No warning, no cause like a relative walking by or our parents calling; she just stopped.

"I gotta go for a run," said the beautiful brunette.

She pulled her hand out of my pants and the waistband returned with a 'snap' against my skin. Tzuyu put her hands on my sides and squeezed gently, giving me a jolt before saying "See ya later alligator!" and heading for the door.

"Tzuyu, what the fu..." I called after her. But she was gone, and for the umpteenth time that week I felt totally cheated. I'd let my little sister completely screw with my mind and now my desire and arousal. She wasn't just teasing me innocently or playfully; she was stringing me along for her own evil enjoyment.

It took a full fifteen minutes before the damned sexually starved frenzy my teasing, baby sister had left me in subsided, and when I sat down I was fixated on the image of Tzuyu in her outfit. Someone asked me a question at breakfast and think I actually asked them to repeat it three times before I was able to answer; I was that bound up.

I had to do something. I had to stop fantasizing about Tzuyu and letting her prey on me the way she had been. She was not going to end her torment; that much was clear. But she was also not going to let me call the shots.

I was thinking about how I might sit her down and talk to her, or tease her right back, when she returned from the run. She was glistening from the exercise, her skin shiny but only just. She walked past the six of us seated at the table. I could tell that every one of us guys, even my youngest cousin of around thirteen, had noticed her. I remember thinking how funny they looked, pretending not to watch her as she filled a glass of water and tipped it up in front of the sink. A few drops of condensation landed on the tops of her breasts, and I watched them roll down into her top in the wonderful cleft between each breast.

Then I realized that I probably looked no less pathetic than my cousins, my dad or my uncle. I was as bendable to Tzuyu's will as they were, and I felt the familiar anger at my helplessness climb into my brain.

"Have a good run honey?" My dad asked.

"Yeah!" Tzuyu said, "but it was really hot out there and now I'm all sweaty."

She sort of stuck out her abs and looked at the shining surface of her skin as she said it. My relatives got to talking about their workout routines and such. I was pretty much zoned out, thinking about Tzuyu, what I wanted to do to her and watching her as she walked around the kitchen. At one point, Tzuyu even got competitive, talking about how she thought she could probably beat me in any workout.

"You are really BIG," Tzuyu emphasized. She raised her eyebrows at me as she said it. I knew what she meant even if our family didn't, "but I think I could take you!"

My cousins both laughed, thinking she was issuing a dare. And as I remember, it was then that I decided to take her up on it and to put an end to Tzuyu's teasing. Watching her, with the tight spandex hugging her breasts that I longed to see bouncing up and down as I fucked her, with the taut midsection I would hold on to as I thrusted... the miniature shorts that cradled her pussy so I could just make out her mound and lips... And again she was just dangling herself in front of me like there was nothing I could do.

Well, I could do something, and I was going to. Tzuyu told us that she was going upstairs to shower, and I just nodded my head. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of shooting me another naughty look.

I sat in silence at the table for a few moments. My heart started to pound. I was too fed up, and I was going to explode if I waited until the next moment that Tzuyu and I were alone, whenever that would be. Would I be able to pull it off? What would Tzuyu do? Could I be caught?

Throwing caution to the wind, I mumbled a few words, excused myself and headed upstairs. With each step, my heart pounded harder. I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest.

Thump

It was like my heartbeat was at my inner ear and the door handle to Tzuyu's bedroom was a million miles away. It was probably only a few seconds but my head was pounding to the fall of each step until I reached her door.

I heard her turn the shower on within. There was a bathroom in her room actually, so the fact that she was out in the hall the night before meant she had intended to run into me. All the more reason I had to keep pushing ahead with my plan.

I reached her door and listened. I imagined that inside my little sister was peeling her clothes off If I went in now I might be treated to the sight of the teenager bent over as she stepped out of her shorts. Tempting as it was, I had to wait.

It was the longest thirty seconds of my life. Standing there, knowing my naked little sis was just feet away, and knowing what I intended to do... I was indescribably tense.

Finally I heard the sound of the bathroom door close and shortly thereafter the shower door sliding shut. I took a deep breath and turned the handle to her bedroom as quietly as possible. Peeking in, I saw that the coast was clear. I could hear Tzuyu in the shower, probably just beginning to cool off after her run.

I closed her bedroom door behind me, and then stood at the bathroom door: the final threshold between me and the naked teenager who had been teasing me into submission and plaguing my thoughts and dreams. It was with that realization that I opened the door swiftly and silently, slipping in without making a noise.

Tzuyu was turned away from me; I was thankful for that. I could see her through the clear shower door. Her workout clothes were in a heap on the bathmat and she was running her fingers through her hair. She had no idea I was inside or that my hungry eyes were upon her.

Her hair was dark and wet, and even from behind Tzuyu was stunning, drawing me closer. I hadn't yet had the chance to see my little sister fully naked and standing up, stretching to thread her fingers through her hair. The swell of her breasts from the side and the slender and youthful nature of her frame reeled me step by step toward the shower.

My heart was beating incredibly fast and my hands were shaking. At the last minute, I looked up and down my little sister's body. She was absolutely gorgeous, wet and unspeakably alluring. I recalled the desire I felt for her and the way she'd driven me to it and found my confidence. In seconds I tossed off my shirt, shoved my shorts to the floor and grabbed the handle of the shower door.

Quickly, I cast the door to the side and stepped inside. Tzuyu finally heard me and was attempting to wipe the water from her eyes and turn, but she was too late. I'd already shut the door and pinned my little sister against the tile wall of the shower before she could stop me.

"What the fuck Oppa!"

I had been hard from the second I stepped into her bedroom. I had been waiting for this moment since I'd first felt Tzuyu's little backside against me in her bed.

She knew 'what the fuck' was going on because I had her hands pinned against the wall with mine and my cock was planted between her legs. Her chest was pressed against the tile too, and her face turned sideways. I could see the mounded flesh of her tit spilling out to the side of her.

"Oppa, I'm warning you!" She said.

"You're warning me what?" I asked, "What Tzuyu? That you're going to just fuck with me all you want and then just walk away like you own me?"

She didn't answer, but I swear I felt her hips move. The water was only on my legs, but I could see steam rising up between us. I tested her by moving my hips backward and sliding my cock, which had been tucked into the gap between her thighs, against her pussy lips. Then, right away, I pushed it back. Her soft ass stopped me as I forcefully thrust against it. I intentionally missed entering her, but I got so close that I know it got Tzuyu's attention. My brain was positively spinning; I withdrew and set my head at just the right spot where I'd finally push into my little sister's pussy and wiggled it there against her lips.

Tzuyu tensed and her body writhed perceptively. I couldn't be certain, but it didn't seem like she was trying to muscle out of my grasp but that she'd unintentionally responded to the suggestive movement of my hips. For all her denial, for all her teasing and refusal, her body wanted me as much as I did hers. It wasn't just the shower, my little sister was wet and I couldn't wait any longer. She opened her mouth to speak,

"Fuck you Oppa...uhhh...ooouwwhhhhh."

I'll never forget the sound she made when I first felt my cock slip into my little sister's pussy. I don't think she believed that I was actually going to do it. But as I watched Tzuyu's head roll and felt her stand on her tiptoes to slow my entry, she obviously knew what was happening. And the feeling of Tzuyu's teen pussy wrapping around my cockhead was like nothing I'd ever felt before in my life.

It was so wrong, so taboo and so incredibly risky. My hard cock was finally inside my little sister. She had been asking for it long enough, but this time she'd thought I was too chicken to oblige. My hands were wrapped around her wrists at her sides, close enough to still squeeze her hips with my thumb and forefinger.

I grabbed right above her butt, depressing into the soft cheeks and I pushed her down from her toes. She came to rest with her feet flat on the tile floor and my tip an inch deeper inside of her.

I'm not cruel, I knew that she would need to adjust to me as she'd warned before and her wide eyes told me so again. This time, Tzuyu knew that I was in control. Yet, I was content to stand there, unmoving, as we both accepted the reality that we were finally committing the incest we'd been dancing around for days.

I wasn't going to speak first; whoever spoke first would lose this standoff.

I gripped Tzuyu's hips and arms at her sides. Slowly I forced her to bend more and take another inch and another inch of my cock into her tiny pussy.

"Ouuuwwww...Fuck Oppa...stop... oh it's too big... please."

I know it's awful, but for once I liked hearing her beg. With her whimpering as motivation, I stood up taller and continued the thrust into my naked and wet little sister. Her pussy was incredibly tight. It resisted me every bit of the way, but there was no mistaking that she was aroused. By the time I was ready to bottom out inside Tzuyu, she was putting up little resistance to keep me from bringing her backside lower so I could be buried inside her.

I thought I might climax immediately. Every inch of my penis was being snugly sheathed by Tzuyu's pussy. The thought that I was fucking her completely unprotected made me throb inside of her. I remembered her saying that she wasn't on birth control, and the added risk was only more motivation. The fact that she'd denied me so many times and now I was finally getting what she'd teased without her permission was even better. I wanted to simply fuck her, cum inside her and break all of the rules at once.

It was then that Tzuyu revealed the last, unknown piece of the puzzle.

"Fu...fu... fuuuuck Ke..Oppa." She cried with wavering words, "I'm a... ouhhhhhaa... virgin."

I couldn't believe it.

I knew she'd had boyfriends before, and all the teasing and playing... I'd just assumed she was a seasoned seductress. Now I wasn't just fucking my fertile little sister without her consent, I was taking her virginity too. I knew that nobody in the world had ever been so lucky, so aroused and so ready to fuck their little sister in earnest as I was at that moment.

It all made sense now, why Tzuyu wasn't on birth control, why she kept talking about how big I was despite that I'm certainly no pornstar, and why she'd teetered so close to the edge without letting us go as far as we now were.

"Is that why you wouldn't let me fuck you Tzuyu?" I asked her, she turned her face away.

Slowly I removed a few inches of my cock from inside her before steadily sliding it back in. "Ouuuuuwahhhhh... fuckk Oppa... fuck you...you're fucking... ughhh...raping me."

"You knew you were doing this Tzuyu..." I argued, "And you just kept teasing and teasing."

Ever so slightly, I felt her little butt jiggle against me. Perhaps it was a reaction to feeling her first cock inside of her. Her hands were no longer fighting to be free of my grasp, though I didn't risk letting them go.

"Try not to be so tense sis, you'll make it hurt.."

I didn't expect my little sister to comply, but in a few seconds I could feel her insides loosen their grip on me. It truly seemed like she was going to allow me to continue.

Again I fucked her from behind. She felt absolutely wonderful like that. Her height, the smoothness of her skin, the way her back arched just right so that when my hips met her; she was every bit as perfect as I'd dreamed. As I once again shoved my cock into her, hard, I met resistance and knew I was all the way buried to her cervix.

"Fucking dick... uhhhh fuck...oh my God... you're such a fuuuuhhcking asshole!" she said through my next two thrusts.

"What's that Tzuyu," I asked sarcastically, "you want it in your ass?"

I know I saw a smile across her face at my humor, but she quickly concealed it. I had no intention of being anywhere but my little sister's virgin pussy at the moment, but I loved seeing her adorable smile amongst her insults.

I chanced to let go of my little sister's hands; knowing that she might use her newfound freedom to escape. I guess I just thought that I'd already done enough and she deserved to at least have some dignity back. When I let go, I could see her thinking hard about what she would do. I immediately grabbed her hips to hold on tight and keep fucking her as it might have been the end of my chance to do so.

But what happened next was absolutely amazing. My hips slapped against her pretty butt and I watched in awe as Tzuyu slowly lifted her hands to the wall. She pushed away from it, but only enough so her breasts hung free and her head was able to move as she pleased. My little sister was going to willingly let me fuck her from behind. I depressed my thumbs into those tantalizing dimples she had in her back and humped her like I'd only dreamed of doing.

And that wasn't all. After a few thrusts I finally got my hands on her perfect chest. I cradled each breast and then squeezed them firmly against her to continue to fuck her as I had been. My fingers found her nipples and I pinched them, hearing her moan immediately. I guess that was a lot for Tzuyu, and the feelings of having me inside of her for the first time were bringing her to new heights.

"Ahhhhhh... oh fuck Oppa... I... ohhhgod... stop I'm gonna..."

No way. No way was I going to stop. I only held her tighter. She was holding herself from the wall with one hand and trying to fend me off with the other. She was hopelessly uncoordinated in her attempt, and each thrust only made her motions more desperate.

"Oppa don't...ohfuckkkk... Oppa... Oppa... please..." she said. Tzuyu didn't know what she was begging for; I knew she'd never felt anything like she was about to. I couldn't stop. She had to experience what I had built up inside of her.

"Ohhh please brother...pleaaaase.. oooOOOUUUW."

She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes upon in that moment. I held her as best I could because I could see her knees giving out beneath her. My hands wrapped around her chest and midsection; my hips continued grinding into her.

My little sister quaked and tensed in my arms. Tears formed in her eyes as she was overcome with feeling. She grabbed at my encircling arms and held them tight. Her nails dug into me until it hurt. Her head lolled back, her graceful neck so close to me that I could smell the remnants of her perfume. Her lungs were filled with the breath she had taken and been unable to expel until the numbing climax released its hold on her. I held on to that beautiful young girl so tight that our bodies were melded together in passion.

Her tunnel squeezed my cock with such ferocity it was almost painful. I could feel her walls rippling as her body revealed to her for the first time what made sex something she'd never be able to go without. And still I just held her. I'd gotten into the shower, penetrated her for the first time and even fucked her into a mind-numbing orgasm without her permission, but I would keep her in my arms, despairingly hopeful that she might forgive me when she came back... that it would all have been worth it.

She did, eventually, regain herself. I could feel strength returning to her limbs. Her panting breaths got deeper, and her nails finally disengaged from me. I'd stopped moving my hips because once she had reached the height of her orgasm I knew she would be incredibly sensitive; Yet, I was lodged as deep as her tiny frame would allow.

The only sound at that point was the constant drone of cascading water. I could feel Tzuyu's little body struggling to take enough breaths to fully recover; her vulnerability was adorable. I didn't mind either, because I took the opportunity to continue lightly massaging her breasts. The first reaction I heard from my little sister was a giggle when I took both her breasts in my hands from behind her and playfully jiggled them against each other. They were simply the perfect size, and I wanted to duplicate the motion I'd seen so many times when they'd been hidden from me in one of her push-up bras. I couldn't help myself, and my little sis seemed to appreciate my admiration.

To my dismay, Tzuyu reached back and put her palms on my hips. With considerable effort, she pushed me away and stood up as tall as she could, sliding my swollen cock from her slowly. Each exposed inch felt cold and uncomfortable when not secured snugly inside my teenage sister. I worried, as my cockhead finally emerged from Tzuyu's tiny opening with the faintest sound of suction, that I'd never get back in.

Now it was my turn to hold my breath. I was hard, longing to finish our incestuous tryst inside my little sister and anxious about what she might say when she turned toward me. At first she didn't look at my face, only down where my staff was pressed against her abs as she turned. It was as if she was staring in wonder at the culprit of her wonderful orgasm, her brother's cock that had invaded her untouched pussy and forced a climax on her.

When she did finally look up, I saw on her face no blame or disappointment. She could have said something to confirm it but when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss me I knew that she'd embraced what we'd just shared. Tzuyu's hands were more aggressive than ever as she reached out for some way to hold on to me as her lips and mine were joined. I felt my cock slip into the incredibly wet cleft between her legs.

"You bastard..." she said with a smile as I tried to prolong our kiss when she pulled away.

"What?" I asked with feigned innocence.

"I can't believe you just did that!" my little sister continued.

"Did what?"

"Well, for starters you took my virginity, and you fucked me without a condom on..." she said with raised eyebrows. "Not to mention you basically forced yourself on your little sister when the rest of our family is like 50 feet away."

"The door's locked," I said with a shrug, "I think..."

Tzuyu hit me on the chest hard and laughed aloud, "You are the worst!"

She looked so pretty, naked with the shower running on her taut little butt and leaning against me. I pulled her tight and could see that her face was still flush from her orgasm minutes before.

"What's the matter, are you worried they heard your big brother "force" you to cum?" I asked while making the quotes motion sarcastically.

"Oh fuck you," she said and then she surprised me with another hungry kiss. The sudden motion pushed me back so that the tiled ledge behind us took out my legs and I fell with a soft 'thud' to a seat there. Without missing a beat, my little sister was straddling me with her back arched athletically.

"I guess I knew you'd snap eventually," she said quietly, in between kisses, "I just didn't think it would be like this..."

I felt Tzuyu searching with her hips slowly for the path of my member, and finding it she whispered, "I'm glad it was."

I was enraptured by the little brunette. My conscious brain was still struggling to accept that I'd just fucked my little sister and watched her cum during her first time. It was far more difficult with the petite eighteen-year-old slowly grinding on my cock. I wanted to beg Tzuyu to take me back inside her, but she wouldn't release my lips yet. Feeling her slit and the opening to her young quim so close was torturous. When she finally did stop to look into my eyes I said,

"So...are you going to show me what all that tight workout gear has been for," my little sister's mouth was already agape as she listened, "or are you gonna just pretend to fuck me while you're up there?"

I knew Tzuyu too well; she could never resist a challenge.

She quickly lifted her hips to position herself, but I could see she was nervous as she held me right at her opening. I lifted my hips up toward her without thinking, causing my tip to prod and then enter her before she could react. Her body jolted and she lifted higher to remove my head from inside her.

"It's really big," she said with big eyes pleading for approval. "I didn't have time to worry about it before."

So I decided to help her... a little. I grabbed Tzuyu's hips firmly and pushed her downward. She must have allowed it, to some degree, because I was able to get her to take almost half of my cock into her tiny channel with one steady push.

"Ohhhh fuck..." she cried, her hands scrambling to mine upon her hips, "God damnit, I shoulda...ughh...shoulda known you'd do that."

Her face was absolutely beautiful as I watched her come to rest with me buried fully inside her. I hope to never forget the way she gasped when I was as deep as I could go.

"You feel so good sis," I told her as I pushed my hips firmly against her, "you are so incredible Tzuyu...mnnnhh... and so freaking tight."

She smiled through a scrunched, focused face and hugged me, kissing my neck when she got close enough. She was still adjusting, which made sense having been a virgin only minutes before. I was content to hold her and feel her body against mine until she lifted her hips off and tried again.

"God...mnnhhhhh... I can't believe it fits in me." Her voice was mesmerizing to me. "You can't cum in me, okay?"

"Why not?" I asked, hoping she'd change her mind.

"Because," she said without much conviction, "because I could get pregnant."

I'm not sure why exactly, but the thought of cumming inside my little sister made me more aroused than ever. I grasped her hips as firmly as I could and helped her along the path of my cock. To my surprise. Tzuyu began rotating her hips in small, front-to-back circles like she'd done it a million times before. I don't know why I was so shocked; I guess with her indescribable sexiness came a natural affinity for being the perfect little plaything.

"Fuuuck Tzuyu..." I said as her hips rotated into mine again.

"Hmmm... what's wrong Oppa?" my little sister asked with a giggle.

"uhhh, unnghhhh...does that feel good big brother?" She was really exerting herself as she said it, moving her hips amazingly up and down on me. Both of us stared in disbelief as my cock disappeared into her over and over.

My hands wandered all over her, fingers spreading as I touched her flat stomach and felt the bottom of her ribcage. Tzuyu had an arm around my neck to steady herself as she kept her hips moving and her other hand guided me to her youthful breasts. They were so soft and perky; her nipples were stiff and the perfect shade of pink to my eyes and plying fingers. I don't know if all teenage girls have a chest like my little sister's but in that moment I thought that Tzuyu's were the most beautiful tits I'd ever see. A couple times I cupped one and lightly licked her nipple. She tried to help me access her, lifting up until my cock was almost out of her. Tzuyu clearly liked it because she arched her back to help me take her puffy little nub in my mouth.

Tzuyu and I were both breathing heavily and she was quietly moaning into my ear as I held her breast and lapped at it. She took my chin aggressively in her hand and kissed me; her forwardness made me throb with desire. I couldn't believe how well my little sister was doing for her first time, and I only wanted more.

I think Tzuyu could tell by the look on my face that I was really affected by the way she was grinding on top of me. She slowed.

"Are you getting close Oppa?"

I didn't want to change anything about the way we were fucking each other. I lifted my hips to maintain the speed she had established with her own. "Ohhh Oppa... fuck that feels...uh...uhh...good! Are you gonna cum soon?"

"Yes... keep going Tzuyu!"

"Unhh uh," she denied me.

Even though I tried to hold my little sister on top of me, her skin was slippery and slid from my grasp as she gracefully lifted herself from me and my cock abruptly popped from her quim. I cursed as she got to her feet and left me sitting there, deprived of my orgasm.

Again she could tell from the look on my face that I was disappointed. She tried to console me as she stood up and leaned in to kiss my cheek and the corner of my mouth.

"You know we shouldn't Oppa, I told you I wasn't on birth control and we could get in so much trouble." She said with those pleading eyes I loved seeing so much.

"I know Tzuyu," I said, placing both hands on her hips and forcing her to lean against me "and I still want to."

If she was intent on subduing my desire to continue with our incestuous sex and fully consummate the act, she wasn't doing a great job. Even as she tried to talk me out of it, Tzuyu had taken me in her hand and was using the fluids that she'd left on me to slide up and down on my cock. I flinched because I was still close to my climax

"That's bad Oppa... I'm in the middle of my cycle and you still wanna come in my pussy... in your little sister's pussy?"

I only moaned in response.

"I wonder what it feels like," she said, working her hand on my tip and leaning in so I could feel her breath on my ear. "I wonder what it would feel like if you squirted all your sticky cum inside me?"

"Fuck Tzuyu," I swore as she teased me.

"But we can't..." she said, never stopping the movement of her hand, "if you did... if you picked me up and fucked me right now... until your big cock squirted all your sperm in me..."

"Tzuyu, stop..."

"You could get me pregnant, you can't get your little sister pregnant..." she said unrelentingly, "what would mom and dad do?"

I couldn't take it much longer. My naked, teenage little sister was too tempting and her words were giving me visions of her belly showing the signs of our incest.

"If they knew my big brother had cum in my pussy, without any protection...

Oh God that would be so naughty," she whispered while her hips thrust her needy mound against my thigh. "fuck, uhhhh."

It was the adorable sound she made as she spoke that forced me to act.

I grabbed her, hard, standing up from my seat and wrapping an arm around her like a naughty child. I swiftly shouldered the shower door and brought her out into the room. On the floor was a furry looking bath mat: the place where I was going to finish with my little sister.

"Wha...what are you doing!?" she asked as if she didn't already know.

"You know what I'm gonna do Tzuyu..." I said with hungry eyes as I laid her on the ground with a thud. I watched her beautiful tits shake and marveled at her young body laid out for the taking beneath me.

"I'm gonna fuck you like you've been asking for..." I was bound by an animalistic drive, "and then I'm gonna cum in that tight little pussy of yours."

"No... Oppa... I" she stuttered, she looked nervous and cute and I was a million miles away from stopping. "I was just being mean... I didn't think you really wouuOOUUUuHHWWW"

I had kneeled at her entrance and pushed my tip into the tiny slit between her lips before she had even begun to protest. There was no chance her words could reach me now.

"Ouhhhh fuuuck Oppa," she tried to yell, but I covered her mouth with my hand. I didn't want our family to interrupt this last thing I had to do if they heard us.

Tzuyu tried and failed to push me off with both hands on my chest as I slid my cock into her in one steady stroke. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a muffled cry into my hand. I took both of her tiny hands over her head in one of my large ones and weighed down on them as I leaned over her.

Her look was a combined one of dismay and pleasure simultaneously. She tried to wiggle free but only succeeded in stimulating my buried member further. I released my hand from her mouth, her eyes begged me to let her speak.

"Ughhhh... fuck you!" she spat as I thrust into her roughly. Her petite body below me was mesmerizing to watch shake each time our hips connected, "Fuuuuck... ouuhhh owww... I hate you!"

I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea, but I leaned in close to kiss her. Tzuyu let my lips connect for a second and then bit my lip. I tried to pull back but she wouldn't let me go. So I forced my hips even harder against her; my tip found my little sister's cervix and prodded it roughly.

She released her hold on my sore bottom lip and gasped. "Ohhh goooddd," she breathed, "Uhhhfuuuck..."

I daringly darted my tongue to flick her lip as she was distracted. She didn't pull away. I slid my cock out and back into her again, and she let me press my lips to hers. She kept them pursed at first, resisting. So I thrust into her again and felt her jaw loosen. Twice more and she opened her mouth... and then we were making out, forcefully.

It was the hottest, angriest sex I'd ever had, and I was very near cumming in my little sister. I left her hands where they were, restrained above her head and grabbed on to her hips. I needed to hold her tiny pelvis as I prepared to climax.

Her hands stayed above her head for a moment, I could tell she was overcome by the feeling of being so roughly handled by her brother and still dealing with the relentless thrusts I was delivering into her. She looked up at me,

"Don't," she warned, her eyes fierce.

"I won't...ugh..." I said, "If you won't."

I had no idea if I could hold my end, but I was pretty sure that by the way my little sister's body was writhing and squirming in my hands that she would soon be helpless to stop herself cumming.

She darted her hands to my back and dug in, scratching me as I pounded her teenage pussy and desperately tried to withhold until she was overcome. As her fingers raked my skin I knew she'd leave a mark. It only made me fuck her harder, deeper. Her legs we wide and her hair was splayed out on the ground. With each drive, her whole body shook and she could do nothing to prevent her whining as I watched my little sister reach the edge and teeter with wide eyes upon me before she finally toppled.

"Ouuuuuuwhhhh oouuuhhh..." she howled, gasping for breath

Her thighs clenched around my waist and I could feel her heels on my buttocks. Instead of nails, I felt her tiny fingers holding onto my upper arms for dear life.

And then... blackness. I saw stars as I rolled my eyes back and buried into my little sister's vulnerable little pussy. I was glad she was holding me so tight because it grounded me as I began the most prolonged orgasm of my life. I felt my cock swell inside her, and my balls tightened to release the first flood of cum into the warm entrenchment of my little sister's quim. I listened to her squeal, knowing she sensed in as each rope of semen splashed her insides and searched to find the perfect path to her womb.

"Ohmygod...ughhh...I can feel...," my little sister breathed through her orgasm, I could hear the strain in her voice, "I can feel you cumming in me!"

I groaned with excruciating sensation as I withdrew a fraction of an inch and then mashed my hips against Tzuyu again, spouting yet another torrent of sperm into her fertile young pussy. Each time I did, I felt my little sister's body tense and her hands squeeze tightly. Seeing her climax was almost as rewarding as having emptied an incredible amount of seed inside of her.

I still held onto her body tight; the shower still ran relentlessly behind us, and for a few seconds my cock refused to stop emitting its incestuous contents into my baby sister. Even then, I knew that if there was any truth to what Tzuyu had told me, she could be pregnant by the very load that now threatened to seep out of her.

I had collapsed on top of her, still trying to hold myself up so I didn't crush my petite little sister. Her breaths were labored, and mine equally so. I could feel her hands gently draped on my back, and her breasts and midsection hot, damp and mashed against me.

It was an indiscriminate amount of time before Tzuyu rolled us over. I tried to help, but she did most of the work. My cock had refused to soften, so it stayed lodged inside of her as she came to straddle me in the middle of the bathroom floor.

Again, silence. Tzuyu halted in a prominent position, knees bent and surrounding my hips tightly. Her eyes were, at first, focused on the place where my cock remained stuffed into her teenage pussy. Our fluids were eking out of the tautly split lips at her opening. Slowly, my little sister lifted her beautiful blue eyes to me. I watched her intently and met her gaze without a blink or a word.

I knew that look; I'd seen it a million times before. She squinted at me and furrowed her brows, looking angry. I didn't flinch. She tried to glare more intently. But slowly, surely, her pursed lips gave way. She did this when she was trying to pretend she was mad at me but knew she was simply acting.

I took hold of her hips; her eyes following my hands. I could probably fuck the little brunette again right then, but I just wanted to give her a jolt. She was small enough that I could urge her up an inch on my cock before dropping her back onto me. I watched as her whole body cringed.

And then she broke out into a full, gorgeous smile before giggling, though she was trying hard not to.

"You..." she said with her big blues, "are a JERK!"

I laughed outright, "What did I do?" I asked with a drawl.

"Ha!" she scoffed, "Are you fucking serious?"

I just smiled at her. Tzuyu directed her eyes between us to where my manhood stuck proudly up into her channel. I was dreading the moment, but as we watched she began to lift herself up and off of my cock. It felt like it took forever, but when she reached my tip, she paused and looked at me again, knowing what we were about to see.

She freed my head from inside of her, and after a second or two, the white gleam of my sperm showed between her recovering pussy lips. After all the cum I had shot deep into her that was surely now making its way to impregnate her, there was still plenty left that dripped out onto my head and shaft which lingered just below.

"Oh... my... God!" she complained. "Are... you...FUCKING...SERIOUS?!"

Again, that adorable look on her face. I knew she'd be mad, but she couldn't hide her smirk. Some of her had to know that she'd been teasing me into a situation just like this.

"Do you always cum this much?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"Hmmm..." I pondered, "nahh... only when my little sister's been a cock-tease for about a week."

"Fuck you!" She snapped back, "I should just tell mom and dad that you fucked me... no raped me in the shower and then came in my pussy without a condom or anything!"

"Ha-ha you go ahead, but don't leave out the part where you jerked your brother off while he was taking a nap, or the part where you..."

"Oh shut up!" Tzuyu interrupted, "I'm not gonna tell them anything, because then I'd have to tell them how I'm not gonna take the morning after pill either."

"Wha..." I started, unable to find words. I hadn't thought it through, I might have been turned on by the thought of getting my little sister pregnant, but I thought for sure she'd be against it. I'd filled Tzuyu up with cum without really considering it.

"You heard me, it's, like, terrible for your whole body and I'm not fucking taking it." She said confidently. Then her face changed a little; she bit the corner of her lip and spoke more softly.

"Plus, it makes me really horny thinking about my big brother getting me pregnant..."

My mouth was agape, I must have looked silly.

"You can close that mouth of yours big brother. You are the one who wanted to cum inside me so badly, now deal with it."

And she was right. I had fucked my little sister and spurted my cum into her with full understanding of the risks only minutes ago. And now that I really thought about it, I would do it again.

"Well, you little slut..." Tzuyu gasped and slapped me, I responded slapping her ass with both hands and leaving them there..

"I guess you won't mind then if I fuck you again!"

"Wait... I...no..." She attempted to say as I quickly grasped her and lined up her entrance with my cock. Before she could utter another word I lifted my hips and brought her down so my cock, covered in my overflown cum, was once again buried at home in the eighteen-year-old's pussy

I was overcome by lust, fueled by the thought of filling up my baby sister again, and roused by her defiant attitude and willingness to risk pregnancy. I sat up, bent my knees below me, and cradled Tzuyu's soft little ass in my hands.

She resisted at first, probably sore from the pummeling of moments before. But her walls were coated in our fluids and my cock slid more easily between them. Before long, Tzuyu was moaning again and complementing my strenuous effort to make love to her. I couldn't drive as deeply into her, but I loved how the two of us worked together to fuck each other like long-lost lovers.

"God I love the way you fuck me," Tzuyu told me.

"I could do this forever sis," I said as we stared into each other's eyes.

"Well how about you just fill me up again... uhhh fuck... for now...ouhhhh...I wanna feel you cum inside me again!"

Like before, we kissed and then made out arduously. My palms stayed locked onto her plump backside, I could tell she was too weak to stay up on her own. And fortunately, before long, I felt the familiar tightening deep within my groin and the following jolt of sensation that would couple my orgasm.

I don't remember if Tzuyu came. I think she did, because I remember her whimpering, practically sobbing as I urged my cock snugly inside of her. As if I had not already done enough, I began adding yet another surge of my forbidden semen to my little sister's laden pussy. It gushed forth and Tzuyu whined as she felt it splatter deep within. I came so hard for the second time that it hurt, and when I was done I nearly tossed my little toy aside for I could hold her no more.

She panted and laughed at the same time, and I watched her as she laid out on the floor. Her opening, outer lips, and the tiny channel within were soon shining with the unruly cum I'd spent into her. Her beautiful body shimmered with sweat and her breasts heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

I heard Tzuyu laughing; she was as shocked at the whole experience as I.

My little sister... laid out... untouched until I'd gotten in the shower with her... and now, if fate would have it, filled twice and made pregnant by her older brother's semen...

I struggled to catch my breath too, and eventually I laid down beside her and took her in my arms. I have no idea how we got so lucky that nobody had come to find us. I'd later find out that our family had been in the pool and nobody was willing to get out and call us down. For if they had, the state they would have found us in would have been... dramatic

"Well that was... interesting." she said when she'd finally come to.

"Just interesting?" I asked

"It was a lot of things Oppa," she continued, "a lot of things I'd like to do again."

I leaned in and kissed her, long and slow.

"Whatever you want little sis, though, maybe we ought to be a little more careful next time."

"Where's the fun in that?" She asked with a naughty smirk.

After that we showered together, playing and touching each other and watching as my cum leaked down my little sister's leg. A couple times she tried to hold the fluid inside of her that kept making its way out, but it was no use. I told her I would love to fuck her again, but she begged me not to as she was too sore from the first two times I had. Instead I simply played with her entire body and we stayed within inches of each other for the duration of the shower.

When we were done, Tzuyu wrapped a towel around herself and peeked out of the bathroom. She checked up and down the hall before whispering to me that the coast was clear. She didn't have an extra towel so I was stark naked, and before I sidled out into the hall, I snagged the towel from her and pinned her against the wall at the entrance to her bedroom.

I kissed her, and she kissed me right back. I held her tight, and she grasped me like she'd never let go. My erection threatened to go right back where it belonged as it poked between us, and she giggled as it prodded her below.

"Get out of here!" she warned.

"Alright alright," I said regretfully.

Of course, I pinned her one last time against the wall and put a hand on her breast and one on her butt while stealing one last kiss. I held her tight as I took her in for the last time in however long it would take to be back at her side. Her tongue lingered beyond her lips as I pulled away and left her wanting at the door.

Just as I made it to my room I heard our father call. "Kids! What the heck are you doing?"

I yelled something about being right down, and he just assumed we'd been texting in our rooms or something of the like. Before I went in the door, I saw Tzuyu step halfway out of her door, daringly, and put one arm over her breasts while biting her finger and one over her pussy. The pose was something out of a dream, and I'd spend every minute of that day remembering it until I found myself once again fucking my little sister senseless.

When we came back downstairs, our family was none the wiser. I watched my little sister swim around playfully and chat with our family, knowing that her little pussy was still filled with my cum, her big brother's cum, even though she was still acting like her usual, innocent self.

"What were you two doing up there?" my mother asked.

"Just taking a quick nap and a shower," Tzuyu answered, smiling my direction when she knew nobody could see "I needed to rest up and get ready to take my big brother like I said I would."

I couldn't believe my ears. I just nodded and acted disinterested; how Tzuyu was able to lie like that, knowing the truth and hiding it perfectly, I just do not understand.

"Think you're up to the challenge after dinner Oppa?" she asked me, "cuz' I'll be ready for you."

I mumbled something and flashed her a very concerned look when she stopped egging me on. She smiled and gave me that naughty look again, knowing that I'd be fucking her senseless just like she was asking me to right in front of our family like it was no big deal.

If only they knew.

I have no idea how long our secret can stay hidden, but I can't help myself around Tzuyu anymore. She's even more insatiable than me, and our dangerous behavior has only gotten worse since we first started up. But, I don't regret one bit the day I decided to be lazy and take a nap in my little sister's room rather than mine. I love Tzuyu more than anything else in the world, and I know we're both glad that we finally became more than just brother and sister on that day. Someday, maybe soon, we both know what might happen: I'll sit by her side and help explain how happy my little sister and I are together, and why we're so excited to be adding another member to the family...when that time comes.

Until then, I'll be spending every minute I can finding out just how naughty my little sister Tzuyu can be... All because of a nap.

#twice smut #tzuyu smut #gg smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #twice #tzuyu #smut #kpop #twice tzuyu #girl group smut

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yanderedrabbles · 1 month ago

Text

Yandere Movie Week

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Noncon yandere slasher x fem reader - 5.2k words Tags: knife play, spitting in your mouth, slight degradation, DEAD DOVE

Quit fucking squirming. I will cut you, understand?

There. See? Not so hard. Just hold still and let me look at you.

Pretty thing... Even prettier with the way you're all stretched out under me. Never thought I'd be so into a girl, but I guess I was just waiting for the right one to come along.

What's that, honey? Can't really hear you through the gag. Don't really care to neither. I'm not here to listen to you talk.

Hmmm, you're a cute little thing too, you know that? I noticed it the first time I saw you. Sitting in the hot tub with all your friends, getting drunk and stumbling around all helpless. Don't blame yourself too much, but you're the whole reason I ended up here. Did what I did.

It was fate, really. Or luck. Bad luck, on your part. Great fucking luck on mine.

I don't really walk through the woods on my way home. But the snow was coming on and I figured a few minutes shaved off would save me a world of trouble.

Didn't know folk stayed all the way out here. Guess this is some kind of AirBnB situation? Yeah, your plates aren't local, I noticed that much.

I heard you laughing. That's what dragged me off the path. Should be the other way around, don't you think? Me, the big, bad killer, luring you off into the cold, scary woods. But no. Not this time.

Heard you laughing and it got me curious.

If your host kept their fence in better shape maybe I'd have given up. Too fucking late and too fucking tired to be hopping fences.

You're all quiet now. What, you like listening to me yammer? Or are you just curious? Probably ain't easy to be you - some deranged killer coming out of the woods and picking off all your friends. Hell, I guess I'd want to hear his story too, if I was in your shoes.

Where was I? Right, the hole in your fence. Reckon you didn't even notice it. Had no reason to go looking for it.

But I found it. Looked through it just to see what was so damn funny. And that's when I saw you.

D'you know your hot tub is right under those fucking - whaddya call 'em - fairy lights? They make you look like a fucking dream. Reflecting off your skin where it's all wet. Playboy centre fold kind of shit.

I didn't even notice your friends at first. Couldn't take my eyes off you. Kept wondering what your skin felt like - all warm and wet from the water? Or chilly where the air touched you?

And then you stood up and I got a real good look at you. Didn't really think I had a type, but baby, it's you.

What are you looking at? You keep darting your eyes at the door, like someone is gonna save you.

Not happening. No one left out here but you and me.

Do you know how far we are from town? I bet that's why you booked this place, right? A nice, isolated cabin where you and your friends can party as loud as you want. That backfired pretty bad, didn't it? They screamed and screamed and no one heard 'em.

You're crying again. Is it grief or guilt?

Don't worry, baby. I'm here to kiss it all better.

Killing is... You probably think I'm a fucking serial killer, don't you? Guess I probably am. That's the kind of thing they call you when the bodies start stacking up, ain't it?

Thing is, it's never planned out. I don't do this shit for pleasure. At least, not the way you think.

It's like there's this pressure in my head. Building. Getting worse all the time. Only thing that makes it go away is this. Killing.

No, I don't know why they haven't caught me either. Like I said, I don't plan this shit out. It just happens. Like something inside me snaps and my head won't go quiet until its over.

You look scared. Guess I would be too, if some bastard covered in blood had me tied to the bed.

You're the last one, y'know. In case you're still wondering.

All your friends are dead. Even that flighty little bitch who tried running through the woods. Fuck, that was so annoying. Bet she was an annoying friend to have too, huh? I saw the way she was grinding up on your boyfriend last night. You shoulda put her in her place. 'Swhat I would have done. Bash her pretty face in and see how much your boyfriend likes her then.

Sorry. Got a bit worked up for a second.

We've already established I'm not the most... balanced person. So maybe don't do what I do.

I never talk this much. Don't really have a lot of people to talk to. Those fuckers at work are all brain dead, and my friends are mostly in the pen. Hard to talk when they've only got half an hour a week on the phones.

You look like you're the type to listen though. Sweet. Caring. Type to give a kid a kiss on the knee when they fall off their bike and start howling.

Y'know, I almost feel bad about this. But I guess you should know for sure, given what comes next. Might stop you from feeling like you're cheating or something.

You boyfriend is dead.

Thought he was gonna give me some trouble, big guy like that.

Nah. Bled like a stuck pig. Barely knew how to fight. Dissapointing honestly.

You're crying again. Is it the fact that your boyfriend is dead or the fact that I've got you all pinned up under me while I talk about him?

Either way, I like it when you cry.

Yeah, I know. Yet another fucked up thing to like. I mean, I know it's fucked. But I can't help it. It's the way I'm wired.

You must be wondering why you're still alive.

Truth is, I'm not sure either. I don't get, like, turned on when I kill. It's not enjoyable that way, y'know?

But seeing you run away from me? Scrambling like hell, almost making it? Yeah, that sure as fuck turned me on.

Don't look so surprised. I'm literally on top of you, what did you think was gonna happen?

Oh, and now you're squirming again. Can you at least let me finish talking first?

Stop it. Quit fucking moving so much. Hey -

I said FUCKING STOP.

There. Nice and quiet now that I've got a hand on your throat.

Anyway, where was I?

Right, I don't get turned on by this shit. I try not to do it at all, but that's plain impossible. My head goes all weird and then something small sets me off and next thing I know there's a dead cashier or an old lady with their head bashed in.

I've been trying to find other ways of letting off steam. Nothing works. Nothing scratches that itch.

Well, that's what I thought. Until I ran into you.

Y'know, your friend group is the only time I've done this shit premeditated? I spent all night watching you. I'm the one who pulled the spark plugs out of your car. I'm the one who tripped the lights. That was particularly fun. Had people stumbling over dead bodies in the dark and then screaming their heads off.

It was the most fun I've ever had. And I think the whole reason is you.

At the back of my mind, I knew I was going to save you for last. Like a little treat.

Oh, you don't like that at all, do you? You're crying even harder. Didn't think that was possible.

Don't wanna be my dessert? Don't wanna be all sweet for me? That's too fucking bad, sweetheart. 'Cause only one of us has a knife and it sure as hell ain't you.

At first, I thought I was just going to kill you. Maybe take my time with it. See what it's like when I think things through.

But then I caught you. Actually held you against my body while your kicked and screamed.

I don't know what makes you so special.

All I know is that when I finally had my hands on you... I stopped thinking about killing.

Maybe I just got all that shit out of my system when I was busy with your friends. But I don't think that's the whole truth.

When I hauled you up here and tied you up... I gotta be honest, my thoughts were getting real filthy.

That's new. Like I said, this shit doesn't turn me on. I've never had fantasies about... well, I guess we should call a spade a spade, huh? I've never gotten turned on thinking about forcing someone.

But that's exactly what I'm going to do to you. We both know it.

Hey, no turning away. No closing your eyes like I'm some boogeyman that will just go away. Look at me. I said -

Look. At. Me.

Mhm, ain't that pretty? So fucking scared. You make me feel like a God.

Tell me something sweetheart, am I your type? If I wasn't covered in blood and stuff. Don't worry, you can be honest.

No? Didn't think so. Your boyfriend looked sweet. Kind of guy who asks if he can kiss you and hold your hand and all that sappy shit. Me? Well, we both know I ain't asking before I take what I want.

Y'know, it's funny. When I was a kid, I ended up in juvie. Over some stupid shit. Vandalism or something. Can't remember. But when I was in there they had this shrink. Used to single me out all the time for extra sessions. Said he was worried about some "escalating violent tendencies" or something. I didn't really listen.

But now? I think he might've been onto something. I just kill to scratch the itch, y'know? But this? What I'm about to do to you? Oh baby, it's all pleasure.

It's going to be a real fucking pleasure to screw you, sweetheart.

Ha. Look at you go. You really think you can fight me off now? Bit late to try the muay thai, doll.

Where should I start? I think we'll go with your shirt. I've been wanting to see what's under your bra ever since I saw you in your bikini.

Hmm, your hands are in the way with the way I've got you tied. Guess I'll just have to rip it. Hope it didn't have sentimental value.

Just gonna grab it by the collar and...

Would you look at that? Shit tore like fucking paper. Guess that's the universe's way of giving me the go ahead.

Let's toss it. Get to the good stuff.

Oh. Oh my. Is that a lace bra? My favorite colour too.

Aww, did you dress up all pretty for me, sweetheart?

Let me just... Fuck, your tits feel fucking amazing. The perfect size for me. Cute little nipples too. I wonder what happens if I pinch 'em like this...

Baby, was that a moan? Did you just moan for me?

Ha! Didn't know you were such a slut. Thought for sure you were the sweet little girl-next-door. Barley been kissed, barley been fingered, never been fucked.

Don't get all shy now. No use hiding your face. We both heard it.

How about we just say that your body betrayed you? Would that make you feel better? I can fuck you good and proper and when you come you can pretend you didn't enjoy it. There, will that help you sleep at night?

No answer. Guess you can't really give one. And even if I did take that gag off, I reckon you wouldn't have much to say beyond, "Please don't fuck me Mr Serial Killer! I'm saving it for marriage!"

Hmm. Maybe I'm not so opposed to that - hearing you beg a little. Especially with those pretty tears in your eyes.

...No. I'll save that for later. For now...

I hate to cut your bra off, sweetheart. It looks real expensive. But I'll buy you a new one, promise. Victoria's Secret or whatever you want.

Look at you freezing up. Don't like feeling my knife tracing up your belly? Here, why don't you feel it at your throat too?

Sharp, ain't it? Even after everything I've used it for.

You're not going to keep giving me a hard time, are you? I can fuck you with my knife at your throat the entire time if I have to. Awful dangerous that. One little slip...

Yeah, you're gonna be good for me. I can see it in your eyes.

Let's get back to it then. Gotta say, I'm getting hard just playing with you like this. Dragging the tip of my knife down your chest, slipping it under your bra... it's such a pretty sight.

Hold still for this part. Don't wanna cut you too bad.

The straps first. And now the band...

Shiiiit doll, it's even better than I hoped. Look at those tits.

You don't mind if get a taste do you?

Mhhmmm. So warm. I kind of want to just...

Hah, look at the way you squirm when I bite your nipples. What's wrong, gorgeous? Worried I'm gonna leave a mark? Worried your boyfriend is gonna find out? I think he's beyond caring at this point.

Speaking of marks, I've always wanted to give a girl a lovebite. Ma used to say it was trashy, but I think it's kind of sexy. Walking around and everyone knowing you've been fucked.

Here, tilt your head to the side a little. I want to kiss your neck.

Was that a shiver? Don't like me so close, is that it? I ain't gonna bite out your jugular like a dog. At least, not today.

Hmmm, you smell amazing. How the hell do girls do that? Smell like fucking strawberries and shit? Makes me want to gobble you right up.

How do you feel right now, I wonder. Big, scary killer kissing your neck and saying you smell good. I wonder if this shit turns you on. I've heard some girls are really into this "dark romance" stuff. Don't really think I'm being romantic right now, but who's to say?

Why don't we check?

Hey, I'm just unbuttoning your jeans. Quit trying to buck me off.

I could fucking cut them off, if you want me to use my knife so bad.

Yeah, that's what I thought. All nice and sweet for me when I mention the knife. Fucking ridiculous. I can kill you just as easy with my bare hands.

See? You've gone and pissed me off. I was trying to be nice to you. I'm not even going to bother anymore, if you're going to be like that.

Matching panties. Fuck, I'm not even in the mood to appreciate them anymore.

Just gonna rip them off and get straight to it.

Two fingers enough for you sweetheart? Goddamn, look at you arching off the bed. Two fingers too fucking much, apparently.

Shit, you're tight. Must not want this at all. Not surprising. I reckon if I play a bit with my fingers, you'll loosen up. Biology and all that.

God, it's so fucking sick seeing my fingers sliding into you like this. You're getting my gloves all slick and wet. Bet that must feel real strange, huh? Getting finger fucked while I'm still wearing my gloves?

Guess I was right about the dark romance thing. You're soaking. Does this shit really turn you on? Hell, you're about as sick and twisted as me, if that's really the case.

Don't like that, do you? Yeah, I can tell.

You make such cute noises, you know that? All these little gasps and whines. Not like that fake shit you see in porn.

Didn't think I'd be getting so turned on just fingering a girl, but hell baby, I'm 'bout to burst my jeans.

I can't believe I'm about to do this, but it's too late to stop now. Let's get my belt off...

Aaaah, that's so much better. Was fucking strangling my cock. Here, let me grab your thighs and hook your knees over my shoulders.

Yeah, this is perfect. Let's me hold onto your hips real nice.

Can you feel that, sweetheart? My cock rubbing up against your pussy?

Stop shaking your head like that's gonna stop me. Kicking and screaming and crying ain't stopped me, what makes you think I'll change my mind now?

Give me a second. I want to look at you properly. Make sure I remember this for the rest of my life. The first time I'm fucking my girl and ain't she prettier than a picture? Not even my wettest dreams could have come up with something so perfect.

Only one thing in the world could possibly makes this better.

See my knife? Feel the way I'm pressing it against your cheek? Remember that feeling when I slice your gag off.

I want to hear three words. That's it. Anything else and I start cutting, got it?

Good. Now, here's what I want you to say.

"Please fuck me."

You got that? No begging me to stop. No asking me to go slow. Just begging me to fuck you. Nothing else.

And if you ruin this for me, sweetheart? If you fuck up my perfect fantasy? You'll be joining your friends. I don't need you breathing to fuck you. Just warm. Understand?

Good.

There. Your gag is off. What do you say?

Ha! Baby, how can I resist when you ask so nice? Sure honey, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you so hard my cock will brand itself inside your belly. Ready?

Fuuuucckk.

Oh God, you're the hottest cunt I've ever had. Just wanna stay here for the rest of my life, deep inside you.

Here, let me press my hand against your lower belly when I start thrusting.

Shit, I can actually feel it.

I can feel my dick inside you. Heh, guess I'm a little too big for you afterall.

You're sucking me in, you know that? Your pussy wants me. Don't matter that I'm practically splitting you in half. Your filthy, whore cunt still wants me.

Aww, look at the way you flinch when I swear. Bet your boyfriend never said a single mean thing to you in his life, huh?

God, it's hard to keep so slow. But I'm managing it, just for you. Giving you time to adjust. See? I can be a gentleman too sometimes. Say thank you.

I said, say thank you.

Sure thing, doll. I'll do anything for you. Well, anything except let you go. Ain't gonna be doing that anytime soon, not with how perfect you are for me.

Never had a fuck this good in my life. Didn't think it could get this good.

Hey, don't look away from me. Did I say you could look away from me?

Do I gotta grab your face and force you?

There. Let me see those pretty eyes. Let me see the fear and the pain and the guilt. Give me everything, baby. I want it all. Every part you have to give. Your body. Your soul. They'll all be mine by the time I'm through.

Can't keep holding back. Grab the sheets if you have to, but I'm not slowing down after this.

That's it. Fucking take it.

Take it take it take it. Take my cock and beg for more.

Pretty little slut, I'm gonna fuck you rotten and raw. Ain't known the meaning of getting dicked down until I came along.

Fuck, that's it. Cry for me. Let me see those tears.

Listen to you, repeating what I told you to say like it's going to save you. Just makes me want you more, baby.

Hell, you're tight. Gonna cum inside you. Gonna mark you up. Gonna make you mine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were made for me, I get it now. Made just for me. No one else is ever going to touch you. I'll kill them. I'll kill you.

Take it, bitch. Take my cock and keep begging for more.

Nothing could pull me out of you. Not heaven or hell or judgement day. This is right where I belong. Inside you. Raping you.

Yeah, that's exactly what this is. Ain't no use denying it. I see you shaking your head like hearing the word makes it real.

That's what I am, aren't I? Your rapist.

And you're still begging me to fuck you.

Oh, you're fucked, doll. Well and truly fucked.

Open your mouth. I want to lean forward and let my spit drop into your mouth while I screw you bleeding.

Swallow.

Good.

You're never going to get the taste out, y'know that? I'm always going to be a part of you - my spit, my cum, all of it. Inside you forever.

You can scrub away my touch but you'll never outlive these memories, baby. I've burnt myself into your head.

Even if I let you go, I'll always be with you. More than your boyfriend. More than any lover you've had or will have.

It's me. It's always going to be me. Your worst fucking nightmare made real.

Tell me you want it. Say you want me to fill you up. Beg me.

Yeah, that's it. Just give in, baby. Stop holding yourself so stiff and just let it happen. Enjoy it.

Bet your man never fucked you this hard, huh? Bet your cunt was dying to be filled with a real cock.

Here, let me move your legs down so they're around my waist instead. I want to kiss you.

No, don't shake your head. You let me spit in your mouth but you don't want to let me kiss you? The hell kind of prude mentality is that?

I'm just going to... yeah, grab a fistful of your hair so you can't keep avoiding me. Look into my eyes, baby. Look at the man who owns you.

Mmhmm, you taste like cotton candy. How the hell do you taste so sweet?

It's kind of cute how inexperienced you are. Got no idea how to kiss a man properly. But it's okay, love. I'll teach you. I'll teach you plenty - how to kiss, how to take cock, how to suck dick.

Better than a college education and all it costed was the lives of your friends. Sweet deal, huh?

Here, kiss me again. No, I don't mean just holding still while I kiss you. I mean I want you lean up and kiss me like you want me back.

No? No?

Listen bitch, you don't get to say no.

Not to me, not ever. Do I have to grab your jaw so hard I leave bruises?

Kiss me back. I'm not fucking asking.

Why the hesitation anyway? I'm in your cunt, aren't I? There ain't any modesty left between us.

Or is it one of those special things? Like how backdoor doesn't count as losing it before marriage?

No, not quite. I think it's more so about the uh intimacy. Yeah, I reckon that's what this is about. Kisses are special. Only for the man you love. Sure, I'm balls deep inside you but if you don't kiss me, it ain't so bad. Is that right? Did I get it?

Hmm, from the way you're avoiding my eyes I reckon I hit the nail on the head.

Baby, do you really think there's anything you can keep from me? I told you once already, I'm taking it all. Everything you would have given your boyfriend, your husband, your true love. All that and more.

So, kiss me back.

That's it. Good girl, taking orders like a champ.

I think I won't ever get tired of your mouth. Kissing you...

C'mere, I want some more.

What's that, doll? You asking me why I stopped moving? Guess I just want to bury myself inside you a little longer. Don't want this to end.

'S hard though. Hanging on so long. If I didn't like you so much I would have busted ages ago.

Hmm, this is nice too. I could get used to this. Cockwarming. Never saw the appeal, but then I've never had a cunt as velvety soft as yours.

You're kind of cringing, why is that?

Hurts? Oh, you mean when I stay still? Yeah, I reckon that's a whole different type of hurt, ain't it?

Want me to start moving again?

Yes? Ha! Never thought I'd hear you say it, doll. Say it and mean it, too.

Let me start moving again and -

Huh. You're liking this. Or at least your body is. You're kinda shifting around to meet me when I fuck into you. Don't think you even realise you're doing it.

Aww, are you embarrassed? Don't hide it from me, sweetheart. I think it's cute that you want to fuck me back. Makes my heart all soft and warm and shit.

Got me feeling - what's it called again - yeah, paternal. Got me feeling like I should take care of you. Should kiss those tears away.

I reckon we're about the same age, but that don't matter. I feel all...protective. Like I ought to lock you away, keep you safe from all the other bastards in the world.

Sorry. I think I'm a little cunt drunk. Got me sayin' the dumbest, sappiest shit.

I reckon we ought to finish this, yeah? Aww, look at you nodding and agreeing with me. You want my cum that bad, doll? Don't worry, I'll give it to you. Give you every drop.

Need to go deeper. Need some leverage.

Oh, this'll do nicely. One hand on your hip and one around your throat. Let's me pull you back onto my dick with every thrust.

Your throat feels so fucking right when I hold you like this. Gives me all the power in the world. One little squeeze and I've stolen your air right alongside everything else I've taken.

Look at the way you're squirming. I think you're 'bout to come. Didn't think I could wring it out of you, but I reckon it's just another sign that we're meant for each other.

Let me pick you up a little, wrap my arm around your waist so you're bouncing on my cock. Hmm, I can kiss your neck like this too.

Shit, that's so much tighter. You're strangling my dick, baby. Go easy, God.

Oh, fuck I'm so close. I think you are too.

Where's my knife? Hey, don't squirm, I'm just gonna cut your hands loose. There.

Here, wrap them around my - huh, guess I don't have to tell you. Mmm, really diggin' your nails in, ain'tcha? Holdin' onto me like I'm the last lifeline in the whole world.

No, don't move. I like it like this. All pressed up against you.

Gonna hold onto my knife though. Can't have your hands loose and leave my knife lyin' around. Nah, don't worry. I ain't gonna hurt you with it. Just gonna keep it in my hand.

God, baby. Do that again. Grind on me again.

Mhmm, that's so...

Sorry. But I'm not holdin' back anymore. We're finishing this.

Hold on tight. I'm gonna give you the best ride of your life.

Hahh, listen to you whinin'. Fucked all the thoughts right outta your head, didn't I? You ain't even usin' words no more.

You're close. I can tell. Just come for me, doll. Quit worryin' 'bout right and wrong. Just shut your brain off and let your pussy get what she needs.

Thaaat's it. Keep grinding on my cock.

Fuck, I can feel every little tremor and squeeze.

Yes, just like that. Come on, come on now. Give in, baby. It was a losing fight from the start.

Oh God, that's it. You're squeezing me to hell, baby.

Dammit, I can't hold on much longer.

Fuck, oh fuck. That's it, yeah that's it. Take it. Take it. FUCKING TAKE IT.

Take my cum, baby. Have every drop of it.

I fucking love you. I do.

My fuckdoll, my pretty girl. Take every drop baby, you've earned it.

Damn. I can't - I can't even talk. Gimmme a minute. I just... needa catch my breath.

Fucking hell.

Hey, c'mere. No pulling away now. I want to keep holding you so close.

Just let me rest my head on your neck for a sec, okay?

Mhhmm. You still smell so good. But I can smell the sex on you now too. You're like a bitch after heat.

I like it. Like smelling myself on you.

Shh, no crying. Just hang onto me. Dig your nails in, if it makes you feel better.

You're my girl. I'll take care of you. I promise.

No, I'm not pulling out. I'm going to keep you plugged up. Don't want to waste all that hard earned cum, do you?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Shhh, baby, shhh. You're okay. I've got you.

Here, let me move the hair out of your face. I want to look at you.

Ah, there she is. My girl.

Look at those eyes... You're even prettier now, baby. Didn't think it was possible, but it's true. The way you're looking at me... All soft and defenceless... It's the prettiest thing I've ever seen.

You look surprised. I can be nice too, y'know. Just got to get all the cruelty out of my system.

Ma used to say it was the devil. Used to call it my devil face. When I'd get so bad that I'd kick the cat or pinch the baby or set things on fire.

I bet I scared you real bad, huh? Your whole body is shaking.

Shhh, you're okay. I've calmed down now, see? I'm not going to keep hurting you.

Here, I'll even hum you a song. The lullaby my ma used to sing me whenever I had a nightmare. And I reckon this sure as hell is a nightmare for you. The worst night you've ever had.

C'mere, put your head on my shoulder.

There, a little better isn't it? You're not crying anymore.

What's that, doll? Did you say something?

Will I let you go? Oh, honey. What a silly question...

I can't. Even if we ignore the fact that you've seen my face and heard my voice and have my DNA all over you, I don't want to let you go.

I wasn't lying. I think I'm falling in love with you. And I realised something. Fucking you... it's even better than killing. Doesn't scratch the exact same itch, no. But it comes pretty damn close.

Close enough that I think I'll be able to hold off. Close enough that I think my head will stay on straight if I have you around.

Not guaranteed. I can't control this shit, God knows I've tried. But maybe there's a chance.

I'm not letting you go, love. No way in hell.

You're the best damn fuck I've ever had.

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

Taglist: @jsprien213 @trolleri-trollera @mel-vaz

#if a man actually yapped this much in bed I'd throw him to the curb #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere drabbles #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling #yandere lemons #yandere thoughts #yandere male

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