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rinnstars · 7 months ago

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jealousy jealousy!

when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else

bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3

nagi seishiro:

“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.

its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.

“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.

its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.

nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.

and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.

and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.

“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.

“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.

rin itoshi:

its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.

and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)

usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.

and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.

“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”

its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.

the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.

and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.

and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.

reo mikage:

he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.

“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.

“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.

and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.

“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.

“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.

“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin fluff #rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #reo fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #rin.<3

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enwoso · 1 month ago

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how convenient | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist | if you haven’t already i would recommend reading first heartbreak to get up to speed

the sidelines of the pitch buzzed with the usual saturday morning chaos — parent's chatting, children chasing stray footballs as whistles blowed too often and not enough. but leah had stood still, arms folded across her chest. her eyes locked on the man across the field.

harrison.

it was almost poetic, convenient if you will, even if it didn't make her stomach twist that the next time she saw him would be here.

at your football game. the one he was meant to show up for last time. the one he'd promised. the one he then conveniently forgot.

leah could still hear alessia's voice over the phone, quiet and tired as she'd spent the entire evening calming you down as the tried her best to stay calm over the phone as she retold the story to leah. 'she asked me if he even loved her, le.'

and that was it. that was the line.

you deserved a hell of a lot better than a broken promise with whiskey on its breath.

so leah waited, watching your entire game. you playing with that familiar fierce focus which had been missing the previous week as your blonde curls bounced as you ran for the ball. but something in your movement lacked the usual sparkle — it hadn't properly returned since that weekend.

when harrison finally wandered to the edge of the field, the game now finished. he’d been there since the 14th minute — leah had been watching.

a coffee cup in one of his hands, phone in the other, looking more like he'd stumbled out of bed then just stepped into fatherhood afterwards.

leah didn't hesitate after making sure that both alessia and you were occupied and distracted. you running circles with your teammates as alessia spoke to some of their parents, engrossed in a deep conversation. so you both wouldn't see what leah was up to.

"didn't think you had it in you to show up this time," she said, quiet but cutting sharp.

harrison blinked, startled, then smirked faintly, "leah. thought i might run into you today."

"lucky me."

he sipped his coffee looking out to the field, avoiding eye contact with leah. "so i take it less has sent you over here to lecture me then?"

"no, she doesn't even know i'm over here talking to you. i'm just here to watch the kid, who actually showed up."

his jaw twitched slightly, "look, i know i messed up. i didn't mean to forget - i had a lot going on that day."

leah raising an eyebrow humming slightly at his well, pathetic words, "enough going on that you forget your own daughters name?"

he flinched, taking another sip from his coffee. a beat of silence falling over the two as they both looked over the field, arms leaning against the barrier.

"i said i was hungover. i didn't mean it. i was half asleep, and—"

"—and yet you still found time to answer a phone you didn't remember promising her on."

there was another beat of silence, for a second too long, and then his face hardened.

"you don't know what it's like," he muttered, jaw clenched. "you don't know me, you don't know what i've got going on. what we had, how hard it was. you think because you're playing happy families with my ex and my kid, you know everything?"

leah took one step closer, her voice dropping into steel. "i know enough."

he just scoffed, amused almost as a smirk appeared on his face. "no, mate you know alessia's version. that's it."

"no, mate. i know a hell of a lot more than you." that stopped him in his tracks.

"i know how before she goes to bed she has to say goodnight to all of her teddy’s so that they don’t go to sleep sad. i know how she still draws you in every picture she makes cause she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. i know how hard alessia fights not to to bad-mouth you in front of her - no matter how angry she is with you. i know what it looks like when a little girl asks if her dad really loves her—and means it."

harrison looked away. he didn't say anything. he didn't have anything to defend him self with.

"you think this is about you and alessia? this isn't about who's in her bed now." leah added her voice quieter now, but somehow more dangerous. "it's not. it's about that little girl you keep letting down. and if you're not going to be a dad and a proper one at that then don't expect the world to wait while you try and figure out how."

for a moment, the only sound was the distant sound of children giggling and parents chatting as the field started to get less busier of people, the morning of football starting to slow down.

then—

"she's my daughter" harrison said, but it didn't sound as strong as convincing as he wanted it to.

"your right she is, so start fucking acting like it" leah replied, snappy and sharp as if she had a response to every thing he said. "because she deserves better and she not going to keep giving you pieces of herself for you to just drop every time it's convenient for you."

leah turned without waiting for a reply, she didn't want to listen to his pathetic voice any longer. she'd heard enough and said what she wanted to say.

watching as the group of parents surrounding alessia's was getting smaller, as she jogged to catch up with you two. alessia looked over her shoulder, sensing leah's presence. "you all good?"

leah reached for alessia's hand, slipping her fingers effortlessly between hers with ease, "yeah, just had something to take care of."

alessia raised an eyebrow, curious but also didn't push. instead making a mental note to ask later on. "that right?"

"yep, all sorted though. don't worry, love"

you rushed back to leah and alessia having said goodbye to your friends, as you were already mid-sentence. "did you see when i almost scored mama? i kicked it so hard!"

leah grinned, the tension easing from her shoulders just at the sound of your voice as she ruffled your hair, "i saw, you were brilliant today, you little superstar!"

and as the three of them walked off the field, you chattering away, alessia leaning in close as leah anchored them to her side — harrison being left stood alone in his own thoughts by the sideline .

watching what it looked like when someone actually showed up.

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violetsareblue-selfships · 1 year ago

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good morning!! <3

#wah i'm tired lol #but again more progress today #didn't quite finish out the section of the quest i was on #we had to go get dinner and sunday kept monologuing lol so i paused & quit as soon as i could #but we'll finish that today and make more progress #i'll probably end up doing the fight tomorrow?#but yeah #today will be a semi-lazy day beyond that #like i have to take the trash out but that's all i have to do #i really wanna start posting more on here but like #have not been having too many independent f/o thoughts lately #i'm a lot better about talking about them if i reblog ask games and whatnot #but anyways #i hope today/tonight is a good one for you! <3 #morning rambles

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ferrstappen · 15 days ago

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happy mother’s day, we didn’t make a mess this time | MV1

a/n: the verstappen twins have the most special place in my heart. This can be read as a continuation of happy mother’s day, sorry for the mess hopefully my imagination will come up with something for baby Norris and baby Leclerc, you can find them here 💘

so English is not my first language and I didn’t proofread so yeah…

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x mom!reader

summary: its mother’s day with the twins and newborn baby Lia, and Max always has a few surprises of his own.

The house was quiet, a rare thing in the Verstappen household, especially during the last month with the arrival of the fifth member, baby Lia.

Not even the distant hum of traffic from the city below crept into the penthouse, muted by the spring morning air and the thick balcony doors Max had shut hours ago. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, casting shadows across the ample living room, where a cluster of handmade decorations dropped slightly from the ceiling: green and pink balloons, red hearts full of glitter, all courtesy of the twins.

Lia had woken up just past seven. Max checked the time after glancing the baby minitor on his nightstand and carefully sliding from bed, trying not to wake you. The baby’s was face scrunched and pink, fists balled tightly against her cheeks as she let out a wail that Max was still learning how to distinguish, hungry, tired, or just bored. He figured it was a little bit of everything as he was half-asleep and fully barefoot, one arm cradling the newest love of his life or his newest twin. The gene game was strong, even if he shrugged in interviews or when family member brought up that there was absolutely no doubt they were his kids, with round faces and the clearest blue eyes known to man, Max enjoyed it maybe too much.

You’d barely stirred after he left the bed, murmuring something unintelligible and turning into the warm sheets as if you knew he had it all under control. He smiled to himself, you deserved to sleep in, especially today.

Lia’s tiny fingers gripped the edge of Max’s hoodie as she nuzzled against his chest, the soft rhythm of her breathing slowly returning to calm as if she knew nothing could happen to her while on the arms of her Papa. She smelled like baby lotion and milk, and her little eyelashes fluttered each time Max shifted.

“I know,” he whispered, swaying gently. “You’re not a morning person either, huh? Maybe you need a Red Bull… No, don’t tell Mama I said that, okay?” He said as if it was a state secret.

A soft rustling from down the hall made him glance over his shoulder. He didn’t need to guess to know it was Mila and Luca. The pitter-patter of their feet was distinctive, mismatched in rhythm like their personalities. Inside the house, that’s it; in the outside world no one would doubt for a second that Mila and Luca were twins, communicating through some sort of telepathy.

“Papa?” Mila whispered as she peeked into the nursery, her hair in the messiest braid Max had ever seen, probably courtesy of Luca. “Can we do it now?”

He pressed a kiss to Lia’s temple before motioning them to go to the kitchen. “Quietly,” he said. “Mama’s still sleeping.”

Luca padded in behind his sister, holding a folded piece of paper decorated with stars and squiggly lines. A crayon-stained masterpiece of love.

“We finished the card last night,” Luca announced proudly. “And we didn’t fight.”

Mila nodded solemnly. “Except a little. But it was about the glitter so you don’t have to worry, Papa.”

Max chuckled softly, careful not to jostle Lia as he crouched and ruffled their hair.

“You two did great,” he whispered. “She’s going to love it.”

The three of them stood quietly in the kitchen for a moment, as if revering the peacefulness of the morning before the real chaos began. Max had already ordered your favorite pastries from that tiny bakery tucked away in the old quarter of the Principality, scheduled to arrive within the hour straight out of the oven. A bouquet of your favorite flowers waited in the dining room beside a stack of neatly wrapped boxes; one of them was the scrapbook the twins had been working on since Christmas with the help of both their grandmas, filled with blurry photos, and scribbled notes, alongside a new photo of baby Lia wearing Max’s Red Bull cap. That last thing had taken some convincing because as the twins said it was their gift, the baby could do something on her own.

Max hadn’t dared look through the whole thing. He wanted to see your face when you opened it first, knowing they could give you a small piece of paper with a heart and you’d be crying.

“Can we go give her kisses now?” Mila asked, tugging at Max’s sleeve. “We promised we’d be the first ones.” M side eyed the baby and Max who had to hide his smile.

Max looked down at Lia, fast asleep and warm against him, her tiny breaths steady and even. He hesitated for a moment, knowing not even a month had passed since the birth of Lia and that sleep wasn’t something that came by easily for you, but then he nodded.

“Alright,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

You were already half-awake when they reached the bedroom. Your eyes blinked open as Max pushed the door open with his hip, twins tiptoeing in behind him like little spies.

Lia stirred first, her nose scrunching at the light, and Max could feel your smile even before you sat up fully.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he murmured leaving a peck on your lips and settling Lia in your arms.

You looked down at her, her cheeks still pink from sleep, then up at your husband, who now had two wriggling kids (completely ignoring his voice asking them to be careful) climbing onto the bed, nearly elbowing each other in a rush to press kisses to your cheeks.

“You guys made a mess, didn’t you?” you said through a laugh as Mila handed you the card.

Luca gasped, eyes wide. “Mama, how did you know?”

“I always know,” you replied while winking, pulling them both into a warm hug. “I love it so much. I love you, my babies.”

Max sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a look so soft it made your heart twist. You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He kissed your knuckles, then bent forward to kiss Lia’s forehead, her lips puckering in her sleep.

“No, liefde,” he said, voice low and full of warmth. “Thank you.”

And for a moment, the five of you stayed there in the soft morning light, tangled in each other, wrapped in the kind of love that made even the messiest kitchen or the earliest cries worth every single second.

The apartment was quiet again, but this time, it was the peaceful kind of quiet that came after a full day of chaos, laughter, and crumbs. You were barefoot in the kitchen, your hair still slightly damp from a quick shower, wearing one of Max’s hoodies over your sleep shorts.

The twins had finally given in to sleep after insisting on watching Mulan for the third time, both of them passing out mid-dialogue with drool on the pillows and chocolate stains on their pajamas. Lia had gone down not long after, heavy with milk and warm in her swaddle, her tiny body rising and falling with each gentle breath that seemed hypnotizing.

You’d been certain that would be the end of the night, ready to collapse into bed,’but then Max had taken your hand, wordlessly pulling you toward the balcony. You’d barely gotten out a “What are you doing?” before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and simply said, “Wait and see.”

Now the door slid open behind you, a cool breeze curling through the air. Max stood there, smiling quietly, a dark hoodie pulled over his head and a blanket draped over one arm.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out. “It’s warm enough. I checked.”

You let him guide you outside, and your mouth parted slightly when you saw what he had done.

The balcony, always a quiet retreat from the cats and kids, was glowing gently under a string of fairy lights. A small setup blankets, cushions, a tray with strawberries rested in the corner beneath the soft shimmer of stars above. The city lights twinkled below, but up here, it felt like you were in your own world.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in quiet awe.

“You did this while I was in the shower?”

He shrugged, leading you down to sit beside him. “Had to do something special. You survived another year of being the best person in this house and the best mother in the world, keeping us Verstappen family in business.” He kissed your forehead. “You deserve all of this. And more.”

After holding each other in silence, Max reached for the small box he’d hidden beneath one of the pillows. Not fancy, just wrapped in a soft ribbon. You gave him a look, playful and suspicious.

“Another gift? You do remember I said no more, right?”

He smirked and handed it to you anyway.

Inside was a delicate gold necklace. Thin, minimal, but when you lifted it, your breath caught.

Three charms. A tiny “M,” a tiny “L,” and a delicate little “Lia.”

“I figured you might want something… daily. Not flashy. Just yours.”

You stared at the necklace for a moment, then looked up at him.

“I love it,” you said, voice soft, eyes glassy. “God, Max. I love you so much.”

He tugged you close again, letting you curl your legs into his lap and your cheek pressed into his chest before kissing his full lips. His hand found the back of your neck, thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin as your lips separated enough for you to peck the mole on his lip.

For a few minutes neither of you spoke. There were no cameras, no race weekends, no schedules or noise. Just two parents, three kids asleep inside, and a quiet night carved just for you.

Max exhaled slowly. “Do you ever think we got lucky?”

You turned to look at him, your face lit by the fairy lights. “Every day.”

He nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We built this, you and me… and the cats.”

“And we’re just getting started,” you said with a soft smile, reaching up to kiss him.

It wasn’t rushed or needy, was the kind of kiss that said we’ve seen each other at our best and worst, and I still want you in every moment that follows. It lingered, stretched by the years you’d shared and the life you’d created.

Back inside, three little ones were dreaming.

And in the hush of the night, you and Max climbed into bed; parents, partners, soulmates, knowing full well that morning would come loud and early, but for now, everything was exactly where it needed to be, while ignoring Mila’s pleas for a dog that looked like Leo.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen au #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #dad!max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic

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grayandthyme · 27 days ago

Text

nights in white satin | oneshot

masterlist

jackson!joel miller x f!reader

synopsis: what if that cold winter day happened a little bit differently? what if he survived? what if you got your happy ending. and, what if you showed him what that happiness really felt like? warnings/tags: 18+ smut, mentions of violence, death, and gore. mentions events of s2e2/second game, mild angst, confession, mentions of survivor's guilt, extreme guilt, anxiety, maybe some ptsd, yearning, unprotected p in v, mentions of overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), mature language, grumpy x sunshine, no use of y/n. maybe a fix it fic....

authors note: im a widow, okay? take a oneshot bc i miss seeing him. also this has been in my drafts for awhile.. so pls ignore if its choppy</3

w/c 10.1k

"Mornin'," he rumbles, voice thick with sleep, rough like gravel under boot. The coffee cup skates across the cool granite, leaving a streak of warmth behind, and the smell—rich, dark, almost divine—hits you like a prayer answered by the gods above. Liquid fuckin sleep.

"Good morning to you too, Miller," you murmur around a yawn, curling two fingers through the handle and pulling the mug close. Heat seeps into your skin, chasing away the chill clinging to your bones.

Your gaze lifts to him—Joel—watching as he drags a hand down his face, wiping away whatever dreams still clung to him. His fingers thump against the counter with a soft, aimless tap, and you catch yourself staring at the rough, calloused pads of them, worn, weathered and real.

"Tired?" His voice is softer this time, threading through the sleepy silence between you.

You nod, sipping carefully at the coffee. Blessed and sorely needed.

"Is Ellie up, or did you let her sleep in?" you ask, stifling another yawn as you tip your head in a lazy nod toward the next patrol filing into the mess hall.

"I let her sleep," he mutters, gaze flicking down to the coffee steaming in his hand. You don’t have to press him—you already know. They’re still tangled up in whatever silent war they started. Fighting, ignoring each other, walking on eggshells… some messy, stubborn version of a father-daughter standoff that's got both of them fraying at the edges.

"Aren’t you a good daddy, eh?" you tease, hiding a smirk behind the rim of your mug. Your eyes cut sideways, waiting—almost daring him—to react.

Right on cue, he lets out a low, gruff hnf, a sound half embarrassment, half warning.

"I wouldn't press you about it anyway, Miller," you say with a soft grin, slipping down from the barstool. The soles of your boots scuff lightly against the floor, the sound too loud in the sleepy hush of the mess hall.

"I'm with Jesse this morning—we’ve got the market patrol," you add, turning as you shrug into your jacket, tugging it into place with a few sharp tugs. Still, your gaze can’t help but drift back to him.

Joel stands there, broad-shouldered and a little crumpled around the edges, like sleep hadn't quite finished with him yet. Your eyes catch on the strands of silver threading through the dark, messy curls at his temples.

Pretty, you think, a little surprised at yourself. Stupidly pretty.

He doesn’t notice the way you’re looking—or maybe he does and just pretends not to. He’s good at that.

"I'm with Dina," Joel says, giving a small nod. His eyes flick sideways, quick, like a habit he can't quite shake. Watching you. Pretending not to. It's subtle, the way he does it—barely there—but you catch it anyway.

"If you’re back in time, we can hit the bar for happy hour~," you tease, voice lilting into a singsong as you nudge a playful jab toward his shoulder, stopping just shy of actually making contact. "Maybe even get you to talk about your little daddy-daughter debacle."

You flash him a grin, wide and shameless, knowing full well how much he hates when you call it that. The word debacle alone is enough to get that tight, uncomfortable pinch around his mouth—the one he tries and fails to hide every time.

He huffs out a breath, more air than sound, and levels you with a look—one that’s supposed to be warning, but doesn’t have much bite behind it. His mouth pulls into a tight line, and for a second, you think he’s going to let it go.

But, of course, Joel Miller never lets anything go easy.

"You’re askin’ for trouble, y'know that?" he mutters, low and gravelly, eyes narrowing just a touch. Not angry. Just… exasperated. The kind of exasperated that sounds a whole lot like fond when it’s him.

You just laugh, light and careless, throwing a wink over your shoulder as you head for the door.

"Been askin' for trouble since the day you met me, old man," you call back, earning a rough, half-hearted hnf that follows you all the way out into the morning chill.

. . .

Patrol was boring. The kind of boring that makes you wish for something stupid to happen, just to feel your blood move a little faster. The roads were dead quiet, muffled under thick, heavy snow. Jesse didn't talk much—just rambled now and then about town repairs, busted generators, and roofs that needed patching. Stuff that drifted past your ears without sticking.

Building wasn’t really your thing, anyway. You stuck to what you were good at—helping out in the greenhouses, lending a hand at the infirmary—anything that didn’t require a hammer and nails. Unfortunately, you were still subjected to freeze your ass off on patrol.

The wind bit at your face until your eyebrows went numb, your eyelashes stiff and clumped with frost. You were about five minutes away from becoming a human popsicle when you finally reached for your walkie.

"Jackson, come in, over," you called, voice crackling through the static.

There was a beat of silence before a faint voice answered, a little too quick, a little too tense. "Jackson copy. Twin Forks, how’s it looking out there?"

You glanced over at Jesse, who just gave a small shrug, his breath clouding in the frozen air. Raising the walkie back to your mouth, you huffed out a sigh.

"Freezin' half to death. Roads are mainly clear. We're headin' back, over" you said, teeth chattering a little around the words.

Static hissed through the speaker again. Longer this time.

Your eyebrows pulled together, unease creeping slow and sharp down your spine. That wasn’t like Jackson. They were usually fast—too fast sometimes, like they were just waiting for any excuse to chatter your ear off.

Before you could say anything, the walkie cracked back to life:

"Twin Forks, copy—have you heard from Dina or Joel? Over."

Your stomach dropped clean through you. Like stepping into thin ice.

You tightened your grip on the walkie, heart already kicking up in your chest.

"No," you said, sharper than you meant to. "Aren’t they supposed to be back already?"

The static answered for them.

And for the first time all morning, the cold wasn’t the thing making your hands shake.

Your eyes flicked up to Jesse. His face was stone—jaw tight, mouth a grim, thin line. You knew he had something with Dina. Whatever messy, tangled thing it was between them, it ran deep enough to light that cold fury in his eyes now.

"I'm following their route," you said, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. "You can come with me… or you can go home."

Your teeth caught your bottom lip, biting down hard enough that the sting cut through the churning anxiety in your gut. It felt like your stomach was trying to turn itself inside out, the nerves scraping raw against your ribs.

For a second, Jesse didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, snow catching in his hair, breath huffing out in slow, frosted clouds.

Then he nodded once. Sharp. Decisive.

"Let's go."

You didn’t wait. You just adjusted your pack and started moving, boots crunching hard through the deep snow, following the trail Joel and Dina were supposed to take.

Every step forward made the pit in your stomach twist tighter. Something was wrong. You could feel it, thrumming under your skin like a warning.

You tapped your heel against your horse’s side—once, twice—and the animal surged forward into the snow, kicking up white powder in its wake. Fingers tightening so hard around the reins that the leather bit deep into your palms, leaving angry, stinging red imprints.

"Joel? Dina? Come in. Over," you barked into the walkie, voice clipped and sharp from the cold and the panic creeping higher in your throat.

Static answered. Again. No Joel. No reply.

"Fuck," you hissed under your breath, jamming the radio back onto your pack with a rough snap.

The trail ahead was still. Too still. Snow stretched in every direction, pristine and coated except for a broken trail of hoof prints leading up toward the mountain.

You didn’t need to think. You urged your horse faster, heart hammering in your chest, every muscle wound tight.

It was only a few yards up the slope when you saw it—Dina and Joel’s horse, standing riderless in the snow.

But no Dina. No Joel.

Your eyes snapped to the cabin tucked just ahead. It looked solid—half-renovated, sturdy enough to stand against the winter. Someone had been here, maybe still was.

"Jesse—front door," you ordered, voice low but firm. "Make sure no one goes in or out."

Your gaze cut to him, sharp and urgent. He nodded, pulling his gun free from his belt as he circled wide, boots crunching over the frozen ground.

"I’ll take the side door," you added, already slipping from your horse, landing hard in the snow. "Look around."

You hesitated, just for a second—just long enough to catch his eye—and the words slipped out, rougher, quieter:

"And… be safe."

The look you gave him said the rest. You were already wired tight with anxiety, your nerves scraped raw. One wrong move, and this whole thing could turn sideways fast.

Jesse gave you a tight nod, disappearing toward the front, and you turned toward the side of the cabin, heart hammering loud enough you swore it echoed in your ears.

Hand on your weapon, you moved in.

he bile clawed up your throat, threatening to spill out. Your whole body felt like it had caught fire—nerves sparking, brain short-circuiting, tears stinging hot at the corners of your eyes.

You rounded the corner of the basement, sweeping it methodically, breathing shallow, every inch of you tight with dread. Clear. Clear. Clear.

Until the stairs came into view.

You climbed them slow, careful, each step deliberate, barely daring to breathe. The wood creaked under your boots, but only slightly—only enough to make your heart jump into your throat.

Then— "Ha—ha—HA—"

The ragged gasping hit you like a blow to the chest. Violent. Desperate. A woman’s voice, cracked and breaking from the strain of it.

You froze, finger curling tight around your trigger, inching closer to the source.

Through the narrow sliver of the cracked door, you saw it.

Blood. Everywhere.

The metallic scent hit you hard, thick and suffocating.

And then— The mess of salt and pepper curls. Familiar. Burned into your mind from only this morning, when you were smiling over your coffee and teasing him about happy hour. When you wished you had told him that since the day you met him, he had meant everything to you.

Joel.

Blood soaked the floorboards beneath him, pooling like something alive, something hungry. Gushing. And he wasn’t moving.

Your body moved before your brain had time to catch up. You slammed your shoulder into the door with a force you didn’t even know you had, sending it crashing backward with a groan of splintering wood.

The room was a blur—chaos and blood and panic. The familiar weight of a body on the ground, unmoving. Your eyes barely caught it before you were reacting, fingers tightening around your weapon. The shot was instinct, clean and precise, straight to the face. The sound of the gunshot rang in your ears as one of the women dropped like a ragdoll, her body crumpling.

But then— The wind was knocked out of you.

The second she hit the floor, another figure lunged, grabbing you by the shoulders, slamming you back against the wall with bone-crushing force.

You gasped for air, panic flooding in as your body screamed to move, to do anything but be pinned here. There was a man on you, wild eyes flashing with terror and fury. You fought back, muscles burning, your hand darting to the nearest thing—anything to give you an edge. It landed on a glass bottle, slick and cold in your grasp.

Without thinking, you swung it, the bottle crashing against his skull with a sickening crack. He staggered back, momentarily dazed, giving you just enough space to slip away, your chest heaving as you fought against the rage, the fear, the overwhelming anxiety that turned your blood to fire.

Your eyes blurred—tears, or maybe just the smoke of too much anger, too much chaos. Every breath felt like a fist in your ribs.

You barely recognized yourself in that moment.

The fury inside you was pure, uncontrollable—fueled by terror, by the sight of him, by the fact that he was here, and he shouldn’t be.

And it was all too much.

You spun around, gun already raised, your finger pulling the trigger without a single hesitation. The man who had been on you moments ago crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud, his body twitching once, twice, thrice, before stilling.

Your eyes snapped to the remaining two. One was kneeling over Joel, her braided hair swinging wildly with each frantic movement, fingers locked tight around a golf club. The other was above Dina’s body, her face stained with tears as she hovered over the fallen woman. You couldn’t tell if Dina was still breathing. The sight of it made everything inside you twist in fury.

The world around you narrowed—there was no room for hesitation, no time to think.

Angry. So fucking angry. Calculated. Bloodthirsty.

You took a step forward, the weight of the rage feeding you, making everything feel sharp and clear. With one fluid motion, you threw your empty gun to the floor. The clatter echoed in the room, loud and final.

The braided woman took a sharp breath, and before you could even blink, she swung the club at you, a brutal arc aimed right for your face. You felt the crack against the bridge of your nose, the force enough to send you stumbling back, but you didn’t flinch. You welcomed it—felt it fuel the fury already pumping through your veins.

You wanted to feel this.

You didn't give her a second to recover. You lunged, body crashing into hers with everything you had. It was all strength—no technique—just pure violence. She hit the ground hard beneath you, gasping for breath, but you didn’t stop.

Your hand found her side, fingers brushing over the knife strapped to her waist. In one brutal move, you ripped it from her and lifted it high.

The first slash was messy, a deep gash across her throat. She choked, but you didn’t stop. Not until the blade bit down again and again, each thrust deeper, each second an eternity of rage, until her body stopped moving entirely.

You pulled the knife from her throat, your breath coming in ragged gasps, chest heaving as the adrenaline coursed through you, a sick buzz that made everything feel… distant. Empty.

The silence in the room was suffocating now.

You hadn’t even realized it, but Jesse had already moved in, subdued the woman who had been hovering over Dina, and now he was holding the girl in his arms, checking her pulse. Through the ringing in your ears, his voice cut through—low, steady, but with a note of relief.

"She's alive."

The knife slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor with a sickening finality. But you didn’t even look at it. Your body was already in motion, adrenaline still coursing through you, pulling you toward the only thing that mattered now.

You stumbled over to Joel, heart hammering in your chest, each beat pounding like a war drum. You leaned over him, your breath shaky as you hovered above his bloodied form.

"Hey, hey, hey…" The words came out soft, almost like a prayer, your fingers hovering above his battered skin. Every inch of you wanted to touch him, to make sure he was still breathing—still there—but you were terrified. Terrified that if you did, if you moved too quickly, you might break him with a single touch.

His face was bruised and battered, blood streaked down his jaw and neck. His breathing was shallow, ragged—but it was still there. He was still here.

Your hand trembled, fingers hovering just above him, a fragile hesitation before you finally let them settle on his chest, feeling the weak rise and fall beneath your palm.

"Joel," you whispered, voice cracking, soft but desperate. "Joel, stay with me. Cmon, don’t do this.”

. . .

It had been two weeks since the incident, but time felt warped—like it had both stopped and dragged on at once. You hadn’t left this chair. Maybe just to go to the bathroom, but even then, you barely registered it, too numb, too drained.

The room had become your world. The pale walls, the soft beeping of the machines keeping a rhythm to your broken thoughts. Every other sound faded into the background, until it was just you and the memories that haunted you.

At some point, Tommy had barged in and threatened to force-feed you if you didn’t eat something, anything, before dragging you out of the infirmary for a few minutes of air. You barely remembered it—just that he was there, urging you to move, to care, but you hadn’t felt it.

And then Maria had made you change. She wasn’t gentle about it, but you were too far gone to fight back. She made you strip the bloodstained clothes off your body—clothes that clung to you like a second skin of guilt—and put on something fresh. Something clean. Something that didn't smell like the blood of the man you nearly lost.

Joel was in stable condition now, his heart still beating, his lungs still taking in air. He still hadn't woken up.

His face was burned into your consciousness. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw it. The bruising. The blood. The scar on his temple you always teased him about, now covered with black and blue. The deep, unsettling weight of it all settled in your chest, each time harder to breathe through.

You couldn’t escape it.

His face. The desperate, silent plea you could never erase.

Ellie had visited numerous times. She never asked what you were thinking, never pressed you to speak, but she didn’t have to. She knew you well enough to see the anger, and sadness swirling beneath your skin, the tension in your every move.

She knew this wasn’t just exhaustion or grief—it was guilt. Deep, suffocating guilt. Whether it was survivor's guilt or something more, Ellie saw it, knew it. And she also knew, without a doubt, that you cared for him. The way your eyes lingered on his sleeping form. The way your hands would twitch, wanting to touch him, but afraid to.

But you didn’t act on it. You couldn't.

It was too much. The weight of your own feelings, the weight of what had happened, the fear that maybe you didn’t deserve to feel this way. Not after everything. Not after the bloodshed. Not after the fact that you were still here, breathing, while he was lying unconscious, fighting for every breath.

Would it be better to die? The thought had plagued you more than once. To die with him, to end it all and erase the possibility of this endless ache that gnawed at your insides. To take away even the chance of missing him, the chance of waking up and still feeling this pain in your chest.

What if he died and you never got the chance to say you loved him. How each and every longing stare meant something more than 'I'm afraid to let you in.' Please don't leave without letting me love you.

You wondered if it would be simpler, if the universe would just let you follow him into the dark. Maybe it would stop this gnawing emptiness. Maybe it would stop the endless loop of what-ifs, of imagining him waking up and letting your hands roam against his skin—lips and tongue trailing against every scar, every inch pain he's ever received. kissing it better.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel this heavy.

But, you couldn’t escape it. The raw, bitter truth that you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t leave him. And somehow, even if it felt like a punishment, you had to keep going. Had to keep breathing for him, even when every part of you wanted to shut down and fade into nothing.

. . .

You could barely function the morning it happened. Your body felt like it was made of lead, eyes swollen from exhaustion, hands shaking as they pressed against your temple in an effort to stay upright in the hospital chair you hadn't left in days.

The rustling of sheets cut through the exhaustion. Your eyes shot open, heart hammering against your chest, panic. For a split second, the room seemed to warp—was it another dream? Another cruel twist of your mind playing tricks on you?

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze of fatigue, and then you saw it. A pair of soft, tired mocha eyes meeting yours—slow and heavy, yet unmistakably aware. It wasn’t a hallucination. He was here.

“Joel…” The name slipped from your lips, barely a whisper, trembling and unsteady, as if you weren’t sure if it was real either.

He blinked once, his gaze flickering around the room like he was still piecing things together, his breath shallow but deliberate. The faintest glimmer of recognition passed through his expression, a slight furrow in his brow as if the fog in his head hadn’t completely lifted yet.

But the sight of him—alive, awake, breathing—was enough to make the world stop spinning for a moment.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body frozen. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to miss a single second.

Before you could finish your thoughts, before you could form some grand gesture, before your body could even drop to its knees in relief or allow yourself the catharsis of crying… the door to the room opened.

The flood of people—Tommy, Ellie, Maria, and a few others—poured in. Their voices were muffled, distant, like static in your ears as the room seemed to close in on you. You felt their eyes, their relief, their joy. But all you could feel was the suffocating weight of guilt pressing down on your chest. It crawled beneath your skin, an infection that wrapped itself around your throat, choking the air from your lungs.

He’s alive. You wanted to scream it, to be happy, to feel like you had the right to feel something other than shame. But it was like the joy couldn’t reach you.

Instead, it only deepened the ache. The guilt. You had almost lost him. You had almost killed him. What if you didn't make it in time? You should have gotten there sooner. Look at him. Do you see those bruises? Do you see his face? This is your fault. Your fault.

You didn’t want to face anyone. Not yet. Not now.

You turned, before anyone could speak, before they could reach you. The world seemed too loud, too bright. The room felt like it was spinning out of control, like every inch of space was filled with a thousand questions you didn’t want to answer. You left.

You couldn’t breathe in that room, surrounded by their relief, their comfort. You couldn’t breathe with him alive, with everything still hanging in the balance. You couldn’t face them. Not now.

It had been four days since he woke up. Four days since the flood of guilt and relief had crashed over you, and you hadn’t spoken to anyone since. You hadn’t answered your door when they knocked.

The world felt suffocating, and you didn’t feel like you deserved to face it. You didn’t want to face the world. You shouldn’t. The anxiety gnawed at you, relentless. It kept you up at night, pacing in the small space of your mind, suffocating you with every breath. And tonight, it was no different.

You found yourself standing outside his door in the infirmary, fingers trembling as you reached out. The wood was cool beneath your touch, but your hand felt as if it might tremble right through it. You had to do this. You had to.

A soft breath escaped you as you gathered whatever courage you could, your hand hovering just inches from knocking. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, a steady, painful rhythm that echoed in your ears.

Knock Knock Knock

What if he’s angry? What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if it’s too late for us?

The thoughts swirled, but you pushed them down, your knuckles gently tapping against the door. The sound seemed to reverberate through your body, like an announcement that you were about to face everything you had been running from.

"Come in."

The voice was rough, deep, and it hit you like a wave—like honey to your brain, smooth and warm, yet leaving you trembling in its wake. The same voice you had sinned thinking about. "Thatsa' good girl." … "It's like you were made for me." … "Take me so good." Late at night when your thoughts spiraled, when guilt and longing tangled into something too complicated to sort through.

The same voice that had sent chills down your spine and made your heart race even when you tried to ignore it. The same voice that had teased you about liking sugar in your morning coffee, a soft joke that always lingered just a little too long.

Your breath caught in your throat. That voice. You could still remember every word, every inflection, like the memory of him had been etched into you long before this.

You let out a shaky breath, pushing the door open slowly. You didn't dare let your footsteps be loud, like maybe if you made yourself small enough, you could avoid the flood of emotions threatening to pour over the edge.

You shut the door softly behind you, the sound of it clicking shut making everything feel too real. Too right.

Your gaze flickered to him.

Joel was sitting up in the bed, propped up by pillows, his figure still worn but somehow more solid than you'd seen him in days. His expression was tired, but his eyes—they locked onto yours with a quiet intensity that made your heart skip. His hair, though still messy, had the same dark, unruly curls you remembered. But the bruises were fading now, the bloodstains mostly gone, leaving just the raw remnants of the pain he'd been through.

He didn’t speak at first, but his gaze said everything.

You’re here.

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn't come. They got stuck somewhere in your throat, tangled in the fear, the guilt, the ache.

"Hey, Miller…" Your voice came out soft, creaky, and far too small. Awkward. You felt like a stranger in your own body, unsure of how to act, unsure of how to bridge the chasm of silence that had stretched between the two of you for so long.

Joel's gaze softened slightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. His face still held the remnants of pain, the tiredness that seemed to etch deeper into his features every day. He had a rough, unshaven jawline, the dark stubble more pronounced now, and his eyes looked like they hadn’t slept in weeks either. You weren’t the only one haunted by everything that had happened.

You felt a flush of heat rise up your neck, self-conscious of how you must look—dark circles under your eyes, skin pale and flushed from lack of sleep, your clothes barely hanging on your frame from the stress and nightmares that had claimed your nights.

It felt like everything about you was falling apart. You didn’t want to show him this side of you. The broken, tired version of yourself that you were trying so hard to bury beneath the weight of it all.

Joel's voice was rough when he finally spoke. "You look like hell."

The words were blunt, honest—but there was no cruelty behind them. Just a quiet, tired acknowledgment.

Your chest tightened. You don’t even know the half of it.

"I—" You swallowed thickly, but the words stuck. The shame, the anxiety, the feeling of being so lost in your own head, it all bubbled up, suffocating. "I didn't—"

The guilt was there again, squeezing at your lungs, choking the air out of you. You hadn’t been there for him. Not in the way you needed to. And now, everything between you felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

You swallow. Deep. Visibly. The lump in your throat is thick, hard to push down, but you try. You have to say something.

"You're one to talk." Your words are meant to be a jest, a poor attempt to deflect, to mask the fragile state you’re in. But the moment the words leave your lips, you know it’s hollow. You feel it in the way your voice cracks, in the way your shoulders tremble with the weight of everything unsaid.

The tears start to fall, slowly at first, as if your body couldn't hold them back any longer. You feel them trickle down your cheeks, hot and stinging, leaving tracks where they slip beneath your eyes. It’s like the dam inside of you has broken.

"C'mere, Darlin'." His voice is low, a soft sigh that seems to carry all the weight of everything unspoken between you.

Before you can even respond, his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, gentle but firm enough that you can’t pull away, not even if you wanted to. The touch isn’t demanding; it’s an invitation. A silent plea for connection, for comfort, for whatever fractured piece of yourself you were too afraid to offer.

His pull is soft, like he’s letting you decide whether or not to lean in. And you do. Slowly, you lean over the bed, drawn toward him like a magnet, feeling the warmth of his body. It’s the closest thing to safety you’ve known in days.

The moment you’re within reach, his arms are around you, pulling you in, and you can’t stop the sob that escapes you. His hands are in your hair, fingers splaying against the back of your head, holding you to him like he’s afraid you might break into pieces if he lets go.

It’s a hug. No words, no explanations. Just him and you, and the space between you that was never meant to be there.

Your arms sink into his body, like you were carved for each other, like you were always meant to find this moment. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart. It’s solid. It's real. It’s the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself breathe. You let yourself break. His presence steadies you.

"I thought I lost you." You hiccup, the words coming out ragged, broken. The tears just keep falling, unstoppable now. The weight of everything hits you harder than you expected, each sob shaking you to your core.

"I thought I didn't make it on time—" You inhale sharply, the breath hitching painfully in your chest as your heart races. The air feels too thin, too cold. "I thought, I thought—" The words don’t come out in a way that makes sense, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to explain.

Joel doesn’t speak at first, but his arms tighten around you just enough to ground you. To remind you that you’re still here. That he’s still here. But when you whisper the words that have been haunting you, your voice soft, shaking, the weight of it lingers in the space between you:

"What if you died?"

It’s like you’ve just said the one thing you’ve been avoiding for days. The truth. The thought that has been crushing you silently, quietly, as you tried to keep it together. The silence that follows is thick. Heavy. Joel's breath stills for a moment, and you can feel the subtle shift in his chest, like he’s absorbing what you’ve just said. He doesn’t pull away, though. He doesn’t let you go.

After a long pause, his voice comes, deep and steady, like he's trying to find the right words to anchor you. "I’m here, Darlin'. I’m here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere."

You tremble against him, a few more tears slipping free. His words feel like a lifeline. Like the space you’ve been treading on has finally found solid ground.

It felt like hours passed, the tears still coming in waves, but slowly they began to quiet. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there, in his arms, the two of you sorting through the guilt, the fear, the helplessness.

The silence between you now wasn’t suffocating—it was calm, soothing.

Somehow, though, you found yourself on the infirmary bed, tucked next to him. His presence was warm, steady, and his chest rose and fell with a deep, even breath that kept you grounded.

You had never thought you’d end up like this—lying next to him, with the scent of sterile bandages in the air, the soft hum of the room around you, and the quiet weight of his hand in yours. But here you were.

The pad of your finger traced along a deep purple scar against his forearm the one you couldn’t help but notice when you first sat down beside him. It was a stark reminder of how close you came to losing him.

Your touch was gentle, almost reverent, like you were afraid that if you pressed too hard, the moment might shatter. His skin was rough under your fingertips, but it was warm, real, and alive. Each scar, each mark on him felt like a story, a part of him that you couldn’t change. It made you ache. It made you feel sick.

Joel’s voice broke the silence, quiet but with a hint of warmth that made your chest tighten. "You don’t gotta do that, y'know." He said, his voice softer than usual, but there was an understanding in it.

"I know," you whispered, your voice a little strained, but calm, for the first time in what felt like forever. "I just… need to know you're okay."

"I'm here. Can't get rid of me." His voice is steady, but the weight of it carries something more—something unspoken. Joel’s eyes drift over your face, tracing each line, each imperfection. He doesn’t say anything about how you look, though the words are there, heavy in the air. You look like hell—tired, broken—but to him, you’re still the most beautiful damn thing he’s ever seen.

The intensity of his gaze makes your chest tighten. For a second, it feels like everything stops. The world outside the infirmary fades away. His eyes are searching you—like he’s trying to figure something out, but you can’t quite tell what. Maybe it’s the same thing you’ve been trying to figure out, too.

Your breath hitches slightly, but you hold his gaze, even though you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. It's like time slows down. An eternity of silence stretches between you, and in that silence, everything seems to hang.

You don’t want to ruin this. Not this moment. Not whatever this is.

The thought of naming it—of putting a label on it—feels overwhelming. Is it friendship? Coexistence? Just two people trying to make it through this hell together? Or is it something more? You can’t tell, but you’re afraid that if you try to define it, if you try to make sense of it, you might destroy what little of it you have left.

“You’ve got a way of making everything feel… complicated,” you finally whisper. You wish you could say more, but you don’t know how.

He chuckles softly, and you can hear the tiredness in his voice. “Yeah, I’ve got that effect on people.” His hand shifts, his fingers lightly brushing the side of your face, almost tentative, but the warmth of it fills the space between you. "I don’t have all the answers. But you’ve got me, Darlin'. That’s more than I can offer right now."

Your eyes close for a brief moment, the weight of his words sinking in. There’s a kind of comfort in them, in the uncertainty. In the fact that neither of you has it all figured out.

Fuck it.

Like a string that snaps, your brain rewires the moment you make eye contact again. It’s sudden, electric—You don’t think about it. You don’t think about the consequences, the mess, or the fact that this might break whatever fragile balance you’ve managed to keep. You just act.

Your hands slip up, fingers trembling ever so slightly, but the moment they make contact with his dark curls, something inside you stills. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away. His eyes are steady on yours, but there’s something raw in them now. Something that tells you he’s as desperate for this connection as you are.

Inches away, you breathe in his scent, that familiar mix of dust and earth, the roughness of the world outside, but underneath it—there’s him.

A presence that’s always been there, always just out of reach. But now, now it’s close enough to touch.

Your lips part, but it's only an invitation. You don't say anything. Don’t have to. Everything that needs to be said is written in the way your bodies lean toward each other, drawn together like magnets.

His breath hitches, and before you can even think about it, he’s closing the distance between you. His lips find yours with a desperation that takes your breath away, and the world outside falls away entirely.

It's nothing like you imagined. It’s messy, raw, and full of that intensity that neither of you can contain.

His free hand slips effortlessly against your thigh, lifting your leg and guiding it over his waist. It’s instinctual, animalistic, the movement seamless. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, if that’s even possible. He kisses you like a man starved, teeth scraping lightly at your bottom lip, as if claiming you in a way words never could.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the rush of heat, the feeling of him—his strength, his need, his warmth, the way his body presses against yours.

Then, as if sensing the balance of control slipping away, you pull back just enough to whisper, your voice rough, "This was—"

He inhales, as if the pull away from you visibly made him chill.

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry." You mumble, slipping back from his hands cascaded gently into your hair. His eyes dull, as if they really calculate what's really happening here.

"I don't want to mess anything up — make it weird…" You hesitate before taking another step back. Feet brushing against the ground of the hospital, boots making a small scraping noise as they lift from the floor. "I'm glad you're awake. I'm glad you're alive." You practically spew, "But this— Us? This can't happen."

Joel doesn't move. Not right away. His hands remain suspended in the air where you'd just been, as if the weight of your absence took a moment to register. Slowly, they fall to his lap, fingers curling inward like he's holding something fragile that just shattered in his palms.

His brows pull together, the light in his eyes dimming but not extinguished. He nods once—slow, like he's swallowing something bitter—but doesn’t speak right away. The silence between you is thick, suffocating. The kind that says everything without a single word.

Then, his voice breaks through, rough and low. “You ain’t messin’ anything up.” He pauses, eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory in case you don’t come back. “But I get it. Hell, I probably shouldn’t’ve—”

He stops himself, jaw clenching. You can see the hurt there, just beneath the surface. Not anger. Just a quiet ache he doesn’t know what to do with.

“You don’t owe me nothin’. Not after what you did for me. For Dina.” His voice cracks slightly, but he clears it, steadying himself. “If this—whatever this is—ain’t somethin’ you want, I won’t push it.”

You turn to go. You don’t want to, but standing in this room any longer feels like peeling skin off a wound that’s still fresh. Like clawing your skin open, nails rough, sharp. You grip the door handle like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. The cold metallic of the handle searing into your hot sweaty palms.

But before you pull it open, you hear him again—softer this time, almost like he's talking to himself.

“I was glad it was you. When I woke up… I was glad it was you sittin’ there.”

Your chest tightens, fingers trembling around the handle. The sound of your boots echo as you leave, but his words follow you long after the door clicks shut.

. . .

It was two days later. Two days of hiding from the town. Hiding from the man whose ghost now walked on flesh and bone legs, breathing and real, and everywhere, even your head. Since Joel had been released from the infirmary, you hadn’t so much as walked past the diner. Not the greenhouse. Not even the training range.

He was free now. Free to walk Jackson’s frosted streets. Carrying the weight of that night, that kiss, that almost. Whatever almost was.

Flyers for the winter social had started popping up, taped to doors with half-used duct tape, and coffee stained paper.

Pulling one off your door with more force than necessary, crumpling it before it could flutter too long. The word celebrate stared at you like an accusation.

Celebrate what? Survival? Guilt?

You hadn’t even gone into town yet. Too afraid of seeing him again. Of his eyes. Of that voice, gravelly and soft, saying your name like it meant something.

But, I guess it did mean something. 'If this—whatever this is—ain’t somethin’ you want, I won’t push it.'

'I won't push it.'

Fuck, Joel—You don't have to push anything. If you asked me to lay down on the ground and die, I'd surely succumb.

Your jacket felt too heavy as you shrugged it on. Maybe you’d walk. Maybe not toward town, but just out. Just far enough to quiet the thoughts screaming through your skull. Just long enough to convince yourself he hadn’t meant anything by it.

But then—three soft knocks on the door.

You froze, hand on the knob. Breath held. Like if you didn’t move, whoever it was would give up and go.

But they didn’t.

“Darlin’…?” The voice was muffled, but unmistakable. A drawl like smoke and honey, carrying your nickname like it was a prayer and a curse all at once.

Joel.

You don’t open the door. Can’t. Your fingers ghost over the handle like it might bite, like turning it would unravel something you’ve spent days trying to sew back together.

“Yeah?” you call, voice thinner than you’d like, strained from disuse and guilt and whatever mess you and Joel had brewed up in the dark of that infirmary room.

A pause. You can almost hear him shift his weight on the porch. One boot against the old wood, creaking just slightly. He’s nervous. Or maybe annoyed. It’s always hard to tell with him.

“I ain’t here to fight,” he finally says. His tone is gentler than expected. Tired. “Just… wanted to talk.”

You lean your forehead against the wood. Cold. Solid. Safe. “About what?” you ask, not unkindly, but not welcoming either. Somewhere in the middle. A purgatory of almost.

Another pause.

“’Bout that night,” he says, like it hurts to even admit it out loud. “About… what you said..”

You squeeze your eyes shut, breath catching somewhere between your lungs and your chest.

You don’t want to open the door. But God, you want to hear what he has to say.

"I am uh— very sick. very ill." You lie, a fake cough following the announcement. "Cough, Cough, Haack."

There’s a pause. Long enough to make you think—maybe—he bought it.

“That so?” Joel says, flat. Almost amused.

You can practically hear the eyebrow he’s raising.

“’Cause I saw you at the stables this morning, arguing with Tommy ‘bout the feed schedule. Didn’t look real near deathbed to me.”

"That—was a hallucination," you say quickly. "Fever dreams. Very common with… plague. And, you're still recovering." Your face burns. Shit.

A muffled chuckle—soft, rough, and goddamn sweet.

“I’ll wait,” he says simply, like he's got all the time in the world. “Out here. Cold’s good for the immune system, and recovery.”

You bite your lip. Damn him. Damn that gravel-sweet voice and that infuriating patience. Damn that sexy ass fucking voice.

Because you know—you know—you’re going to open the door. Maybe not now. Maybe not in the next ten seconds. But eventually.

Your fingers wrap around the handle, pressing it down and pulling toward you. The wooden door creaks open, revealing the screen door. A thin barrier between you.

He looks… good. Brown jacket, blue jeans, a belt, and new boots, the remnants of blood no longer. His eyes were still dark, and tired, but there was an air of relief to them, like he had relaxed long enough to feel somewhat a semblance of peace.

The cold air rushes in, bites at your skin like karma. He’s watching you with that unreadable expression, the one that’s somewhere between stern and soft. Somewhere between don’t push me and please, push me just a little.

“Hey,” he says, simple. Low.

You swallow hard. Your throat’s suddenly dry, like the lie about being sick took too much out of you. Fuck, maybe you were ill.

“Hey,” you echo. Quieter.

He shifts, thumbs hooking against his belt. It’s a casual stance, but you can see the tension sitting behind it. You know him well enough to read the signs. He’s rehearsed something. That jaw twitch? That's anxiety settling into his gut. That tiny nod to himself? That’s a man about to dive headfirst into something he’s not sure he knows how to swim through.

“I ain’t here to mess things up,” he starts, voice steady, “or push somethin’ you don’t want. But I been thinkin’, and…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, y’know.”

That hits harder than you expect.

“I wake up every day grateful I get to be scared,” he adds, quieter. “Grateful you pulled me outta there. Grateful I get to even have this conversation.”

Your fingers twitch around the edge of the doorframe. The weight of it all, the what-ifs, the blood, the almost—they come rushing back.

He steps a little closer, boots scraping softly against the porch wood.

“So I figured… if you're done bein’ on your deathbed," his mouth tugs in a half-smile, “maybe you’d let me take you to that winter social at tipsys…”

You stand there. Mouth hung agape open like some fucking fool. I'm sorry? He said what? What the fuck did he just say to you?

"You.. uh.." You stutter, fingers curling against the door frame, "You… don't hate me?"

Joel’s brow furrows—just slightly. Not in frustration, but in that Joel Miller kind of way. The one where he's thinking? The one where he's registering how to fix this. The kind where concern looks like confusion and softness hides behind the grit.

“Hate you?” he repeats, like the words physically repulse him. “Darlin’, I don’t think I could hate you if I tried.”

He steps a little closer again, enough that the warmth of his breath ghosts across the screen.

“You saved my life. You nearly lost your damn mind doin’ it. I saw it. Hell, I felt it.”

His hand lifts, hovers at the screen like he wants to touch you through it but won’t risk the boundary unless you give the signal.

“I hated that you ran. I hated that I woke up and you weren’t there. But hate you?” He shakes his head, the weight of it settling like snowfall. “I could never.”

The silence that follows is sharp and thick, clinging to the air between you.

“You still think I don’t want you?” he asks, voice rough. Not angry. Just naked. “'Cause I’ve been tryin’ not to want you every damn day since I met you. And I’m losin’ that fight.”

Your pulse is thunder in your ears.

Oh fuck…

Your gaze drops—floor, boots, anywhere but his eyes. Then slowly lifts again, like your body’s trying to catch up to your heart.

Your brain? Gone. Empty. Nothing but static between your ears.

Your hand moves on its own, fingers brushing the cold metal of the screen door latch. One soft twist.

Click.

The lock gives.

You glance up, startled by your own movement, eyes locking with his like you just said something out loud without speaking.

Because you did.

That sound—that soft, quiet click—wasn't just a noise. It was a confession.

You wanted him. Still do.

You stand there, rooted to the spot, waiting for him to make the first move. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, a nervous habit you can’t shake. Your pulse hammers in your ears, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s just you feeling this, or if he’s as sick with it as you are.

The seconds stretch on, too long. Too quiet.

Then, without warning, he steps forward, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches up, brushing the edge of the screen door, before he grips the frame with the same steady, sure hands that had been so tender earlier.

His gaze doesn’t leave yours. “You sure about this?” he asks, low and rough, voice dragging across your skin like a touch.

It’s a question, but you both know it’s not. It’s him waiting for you, giving you space to breathe, even as every inch of him is drawn to you.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and it pulls at you like gravity, drawing you closer despite every rational thought telling you to back away. He’s patient, but there’s that edge beneath his calm—something hungry, something wild, that’s been buried too long.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t,” you say, your voice quiet but steady, betraying the storm crashing in your chest.

He gives a half-smile, a flicker of something dangerous. “Good,” he mutters, then leans in, just close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips, but not close enough to touch.

The tension is suffocating. The world outside doesn’t exist. Not anymore.

And then he speaks again, voice almost a whisper, lips brushing against your ear.

“Because you ain't runnin' away this time.”

With one quick motion he's in the house, hands slipping against the hooks of your jeans. His boot knocks against the wooden door, closing it. A sway of air as it slams.

His mouth is already against yours, hand moving up to splay against the middle of your back—leading you, leading you straight back against your kitchen countertop only a few feet away. Mouth falling from your lips, he moves into the nape of your neck, a quick and deep inhale—"Fuck, darlin,'"

"You don't know," A small nibble against the tender skin, "… what you do to me."

The air is thick, heavy with anticipation. His body presses against yours, firm. You gasp, it's the warmth of his breath skimming across your neck, his lips brushing against the delicate curve of your shoulder. Facial hair leaving a tickling sensation in wake.

His fingers tighten around you, pulling you even closer, and it’s as if your bodies have a language of their own—unspoken, raw.

“You don’t know what you’ve done to me either, Joel,” you breathe, your own hands trembling as they find their way to his chest. His shirt soft against your fingertips, pulls at you like it’s just one more obstacle you need to get past. Nails scraping at the buttons of the flannel. You feel like a caged animal.

“I think I got an idea.” His chuckle is low, dark.

His hand slips between your legs, hand splayed across the material of your jeans with a subtle press. "Can practically feel it."

His lips find yours again, hungry this time, teeth grazing against your bottom lip. His free hand presses against the small of your back and the other your thigh, hesitating to lift you.

His voice drops, barely a whisper against your lips. “You sure you want this, darlin’?” It’s the same question from earlier, but now, it’s not doubt—it’s something softer, something more urgent. A plead. A fucking prayer. Like if you said no, he'd get on his knees and beg.

His eyes lock with yours, his thumb brushing the side of your jaw as he waits for you to answer.

It only takes seconds for you to dive into another kiss, urgency flooding your body like fire. Your fingers tremble as they work at the buttons of his flannel, fumbling slightly with each one.

His lips are on yours again, a hungry, desperate rhythm that matches the frantic pace of your heart. His hands move to your waist, gripping you tight. The flannel falls open, the fabric grazing your hand, and fingertips finding refuge against tanned scarred skin. It's a sin to hide a body this fucking pretty under clothing.

Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, his breath ragged, eyes dark with something raw, something dangerous. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t need to. The hunger in his gaze says it all. Without a word, he shifts you, his hand firm against the curve of your back, pulling you up just enough to sit you on the edge of the counter. The movement is quick, efficient, and the cool granite meets your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his body, pressed against you.

Your breath hitches as his hands slide under your shirt, rough against your skin, pulling you even closer. His lips hover just above your ear, his voice gravelly, rough. “You kiss like you patrol.”

He's purposeful with each movement. Every drag of his finger causing a fire in it's path. Hands gently coming to the hem of your jeans, and then with a small pop, the button is undone. A slow, and soft shimmying down until all he can stare at is his glistening prize.

"Greedy… Unhinged..." He continues, lowering down to his knees— his hands slipping down your thighs, to your ankles, and then hooking your legs above his shoulders, "Clumsily, maybe…"

Within seconds his mouth is against you. It's hot, wet, animalistic as if the man is starved. Clumsy. Messy. Tongue grazing over every sensitive fold— and your very swollen clit. He flattens his tongue against you,—then as quick as he can extinguish the pleasure, he nibbles against you. Profanities dripping from your mouth, his name followers like a prayer of forgiveness.

"Needy fuckin girl, y'taste so good."

The response to his words. Your free hand shoots out to the top of his head, fingers interlacing with salt and pepper curls. Wanting can't even describe your state of mind right now. It's more like yearning, fucking craving.

Forearm burning from strength it takes to hold yourself up on the countertop, needing to see him on his knees for yourself.

You curl your fingers, a soft tug of his hair earns that deep guttural growl from his throat.

"mmh, easy, girl," His breath fans across your pussy, sending shivers shooting up your spine.

You try to look away—try to break this sight, but you're pretty sure if you blinked hard enough you'd wake up from this dream. He dips lower, his mouth pulling you closer to the edge, grounding you to him like you were the only thing that ever mattered.

His lips release from your cunt with a pop, tongue curling against the spit line that follows. His eyes settle against your own— dark, and frantic.

The release of the sensation causes you to shiver, the overstimulation already coiling in your core. Twitching, a small huff to every breath you release.

"That all it takes to get you shakin' like a leaf?" He chuckles—soft.

The tension in the air thickens as you lean down, close enough to make your heart race, yet he doesn’t rush it. His hand still holds your thighs spread apart, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

"I want you." The words flow easily. Easily because your brain is pathetically melted inside of your skull.

He practically purrs, another deep growl from his throat, "Yeah?"

"Then take it… 'ts all yours," He tilts his head with his words, eyes dancing over every single feature you have. He stares at you like his brain maps out every mole, and scar. You needily grab at the remnants of his unbuttoned flannel, pulling it up towards you. He smiles, smiles. Excitedly standing back up, and leaning into your touch.

You don't hesitate. You pull him back in, mouths clashing, breaths hot and broken. His hands roam your thighs, your hips, possessive like he’s memorizing you, branding you. You feel the scratch of his callouses against your skin, grounding you, making you dizzy all at once.

One hand tilts your chin up, the other slides up your back, holding you steady while his mouth traces a trail from your lips to your jaw, then lower, pressing kisses down your throat, your collarbone.

You tilt your head back to give him more space, a soft, desperate noise escaping your throat. His name slips from your lips without thinking—"Joel."

That sound alone seems to snap something inside him. Saying his name like that. Like you need him. Like you fucking crave him. It practically got him drunk on sin.

He lifts his head, eyes dark and molten. His hands grip your waist firmly, thumbs stroking slow circles against your sides. “Gonna take care of you, darlin’. Gonna give you everything you been needin’… just like you deserve.”

The jingle of his belt catches your attention, as if your brain can process anymore. His fingers softly unthreading the leather from the metal, and with a clank—it's slipping to the floor.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice rough, thumb brushing tender over your hipbone.

You nod, too breathless to speak.

That's all he needs. The pads of his fingers undoing the button of his jeans, a soft slide down and the sight nearly makes you keel over. You've met god. How could someone hide such a perfect cock? The size of him itself steals the air from your lungs.

"Please," You breathe, "Please Joel."

"You look so damn pretty like this," he says, half in awe, half in something darker, heavier.

"Layin' below me, fucked out on your kitchen counter."

Without a delay he inches in, the tip of his cock pressing against your needy, and swollen entrance. The angle is perfect, a slow and greedy intrusion that causes your nails to scrape at the granite of the countertop.

"Fuck—" He exhales, a restrained whine from his throat, "You were made f'r me…"

Joel inhales as he plunges himself fully. Without a second thought, he pulls back out, before sliding back in. It's like a game for him, eyes downward on the motion. Watching the back and forth of his cock as he dives in and out of you.

His pace quickens, the musical rhythmic of the thrusting becoming faster, and faster. He's hitting spots you didn't even know you had. Spots that nobody has ever reached. You can barely hear, ears ringing, vision blurred by inklings of tears.

You don't realize your howling his name until he speaks.

"Gotta… Quiet down there, darlin'…”He chuckles, deep and gravelly as he holds back a strained noise. Hips snapping back and forth, the wet squelches of your pussy like music to his ears, "… don't want the neighbors thinkin' you got coyotes."

Every thrust is a further hit to your core, releasing a sound that vaguely resembles a wheeze rather than a moan. Each muscle in your thighs threatening to give out, as you open your legs wider and wider for his ravaging.

Joel likes to drag it out, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving only the tip—grinding there for a moment until his own body twitches, and then slamming back in as hard as possible. Hands vice gripped around your thighs, bringing you to and from him like a pocket pussy.

“Sweet girl, oh fuck.. fuck..”

Sloppy around him, already drenching the area between you two - wet squishing noises as he drags back the mixture of pre and slick, just to bury it back inside of you.

"Gonna paint your fuckin' insides at this rate…" He exhales, shakily. He's fucking into you like a wild animal. At the end of the day, that's what he is. Bloodthirsty, a killer, known for his haunting and inhuman actions.

“Fuck, please.. right there, oh fuck, Joel—" You cry out, hips clumsily and weakly fumbling against your meeting point, trying to bury him deeper inside of yourself.

Bottom lip taken between his teeth, glossy eyed staring down at the sight of his cock sliding in and out. "Can feel you squeezn', know how close you are…"

Back and forth— milking cries from your sweet lips. Continually riding the way you clamp down on him desperately, leaning into your orgasm.

"J-Joel— Oh my g.." The words can't even release from your throat, before your head tilts back and a series of gargled profanities and pet-names drool out.

"Good fuckin' girl, just like that… take it just like that…" his words are pure fucking filth.

It's not long after you that his hips start to snap messily, losing his train of thought at every deep bury into your overstimulated pussy. Head tipping down—he clamps his eyes shut, riding the high of your squirming.

He cums. It paints your insides with boiling heat, both of you stringing out whines and grunts. The snapping motion continues, as he ruts the cum deeper and deeper inside of you. He's purposefully dragging out his own relief. Doesn't want it to end. Fuck, he never wants it to end.

"Fuckin' hell…" Joel murmurs softly, slipping out with a slow release. The tension eases in your gut, and you feel every muscle in your body screaming at you. You let out a noise between a sigh and a whimper, the feeling sends a shiver up and down your body. Goosebumps in the wake of his hot breath.

“Yeah.. you ain't gettin' away from me again…"

484 notes · View notes

alloftheimagines · 2 months ago

Text

haymitch abernathy | until sunrise

words: 1.7k warnings: MINORS DNI. off-page sexual and physical abuse, blood, suicidal ideation, alcohol, drugs, angst, hurt/comfort description: You’re the Capitol’s plaything. All he can do is clean you up after a particularly terrible night. I just finished Sunrise on the Reaping and had to get out some Haymitch brainrot.

A knock on his door is never a good sign. When Haymitch is in the Capitol for the Games, he keeps to himself when he can, lost in the fog of drink where he can convince himself that nothing can touch him.

But there’s one exception. You.

You’re the only reason he opens the door at all. A fresh victor of District 12, it’s been your turn to serve the Capitol over the last couple of years. Last Games, they still had that thing in your ear, keeping you drugged and controlled to establish you as the Capitol’s docile little darling. This year, you’ve spent every party either in a cage or satisfying potential sponsors behind closed doors. It makes him sick, so he drinks more and more and more, but it never makes it easier.

Now, in the hallway, you’re more gaunt than ever. Barely there at all. There are cuts all over your skin, blood dribbling down your temple, your neck, even your damn legs.

“I need…” you whisper, and the words are slurred. Unlike him, it isn’t a choice. Your clients like you better when you’re inebriated, not able to fight back. You’re theirs to do with what they want.

You frown as though you’ve already forgotten what you need, but he knows.

“Come in, sweetheart.”

When you step forward on buckling legs, he has to catch you, just barely holding you up. His white liquor breath mingles with your sour one as, somehow, this quest for stability becomes something more. He’s holding you tight while your head lolls against his shoulder, because it’s the least he can do and it isn’t nearly enough. He feels responsible. He helped you win those games. After years of following the rules, learning the hard way that rebellion got people killed, he’d seen a spark in you. A spark that could have destroyed the games if he was just smart enough to figure out how.

Snow had seen the flame. Snuffed it out. It pains Haymitch to think it, but he would have been better off letting you starve without sponsors. Letting you die in the arena. This… This is his fault. He cared for something again, somebody, and now it’s killing you both.

“What’d they do to you?” he whispers when he’s shut the door behind you. A stupid question, born from horror rather than a genuine need to know. With the bite marks, bruises, and slashes across your skin, he can imagine. The Capitol are almost as genetically mutated as Mutts these days, so many of them resembling animals with sharp-filed teeth among other hideous implants.

“Got one… with fangs n’claws,” you mutter.

He looses a jagged breath, half-rage, half-despair, and guides you carefully over to his couch. The apartment is still in darkness, lights too bright for his ever-pounding head. Besides, the view of the Capitol illuminated under the stars yawns outside his window, a beast not quite slumbering. Never does. The city never stops; night just casts a blanket over their depravities, but there are holes in the velvet that keep the place lit dim.

Curtains aren’t allowed. He already asked.

With you slumped on his pillows, he can get a better view of your state. Regrets looking immediately. Glittering dress the colour of grey doves has been torn by greedy hands. Where your skin isn’t bloody, it’s black, blue, green, your very own kaleidoscope of pain. It’ll be worse in the morning, but right now, you at least have the detachment the drugs grant you. Not like him, who feels every fucking mark on you.

He rubs a hand over his unkempt stubble. Tries to figure out where the fuck he should start. If you were cognisant, he’d have led you straight to the shower, knows how unclean you feel after a night like this. But you’re not, and he’s not going to be another monster who strips you bare without you knowing.

“Gonna clean you up best I can, okay?” he finally decides. “You rest now.”

Your mumble is unintelligible, but it still pierces another needle through his chest. How can the two of you keep going like this? How can you mentor more tributes, knowing that an arena death would be kinder than this slow torture?

Turns out his liquor comes in handy for more than just getting wasted. He grabs a cloth and his half-drained bottle from the kitchen along with a bowl of warm water, then returns to you, kneeling on the carpet at your feet.

“I got you now,” he whispers, then starts on your sprawled legs. You whimper when he reaches the first gash, right below your knee. “‘M sorry, sweetheart. Know it stings.”

You bite your lip, fingers curling into the velvet arm of the couch as he keeps going. “Haymitch.” It’s a croaked whisper, barely audible at all, but he hears it like an alarm bell.

“I’m here,” is all he can reply as he wrings the blood from the cloth. Goes again. Where your dress is bunched towards your hips, he sees bite marks on your inner thighs and feels nauseous. He sucks in a sharp breath. Leans back to press his fist into his mouth so that he doesn’t yell, or sob, or do something. He’s had his time, his punishment. It’s your turn now, and all he can do is be there at the end of the night. He takes a swig of the liquor in his hand, but it just makes the burn in his throat worse. So bad he has to step away, just for a minute, to collect himself.

He doesn’t know your lazy gaze is watching his back, waiting for him to return. The only person who keeps you safe in all this, or at least rides out the devastation with you. Without him, you wouldn’t be here. You don’t know if that makes him a blessing or a curse.

“Gonna get you some water,” he decides.

Don’t go, you think, but you don’t dare say it. Even now, you’re afraid the Capitol will see just how much you rely on him and take that from you, too.

He comes back quickly, helps sit you up with a gentle hand on your shoulder as he tips the cool glass to your cracked lips. “That’s it,” he coaxes. “Thatta girl.”

Your face crumples as though it tastes foul, and he draws it back to dry the excess from your chin. “When’s… it gon’ end?” you ask.

“When we’re dead and buried,” he replies softly. “Till then, you try to stay with me, okay?”

Your hooded eyes glisten as you finally look at him. It isn’t easy, being this vulnerable. You’ve been used and abused all night by evil, depraved men. Men with weapons on their fingers, in their mouths, everywhere, not because they like to fight, but because they like to bleed people like you dry. You shouldn’t want to be anywhere near him now, but where else can you go?

He’s all you’ve got. Some nights, it just isn’t enough. “Don’t w’na do this anymore.”

“I know.”

“Could end it.”

“They wouldn’t let you. You know that.” His voice is gravel; pain. You hate you put it there with your dreams of death, but they feel closer now than ever. What if he didn’t tend to your wounds, didn’t keep your hydrated and fed and awake? What if he let you drift off the way he hadn’t been able to in the arena?

And he’s right. Even if he could let you go, the Capitol would find some way to get you back, whether they’d use your sickly corpse or find somebody to masquerade as you to keep up appearances. You’d just be making it worse, even if not for yourself.

And he needs you. He’d never say it, but he does. The only other victor here, all you have is each other. Back in District 12, you sit in your grand house in the Victor Village for hours, listening to him shuffling on the other side of the wall. His presence always a frayed thread to grasp onto with both hands. You clean him up when he’s passed out on his doorstep, or sometimes, you get drunk together on your couch. Only then do your bodies intertwine the way you want, both of you too past consciousness to care whether somebody sees. You don’t know what he’d do without you. Choke on his own vomit, maybe. Drink until he drowned. You rely on each other — and it’s the most dangerous thing in the world. But also the only thing that keeps you going.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and his face is fading in and out of the blackness now as he tends to some of the scratches on your face and neck.

“Haymitch,” you whisper again, because if anybody can save you, it’s him.

“Right here, sweetheart. Not going anywhere.” He’s so gentle against your raw skin you barely feel it at all, only moaning when he reaches tender spots. Finally, it stops.

“Couch or bed?” he asks just as you’re sinking into the dark.

“Couch.” Beds are where terrible things happen. Beds are where this happened.

“Lie down then, sweet. That’s it.” He guides you down to the cushions of the couch, a hand brushing the matted hair off your cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s comfortable or not. Your body isn’t yours to decide that, these days. He drapes a blanket over you, and it eases your shuddering limbs. Had you been shaking like that the whole time? You barely noticed.

“You’ll stay?” If you were capable of it, it would have been a plea.

He gives you the same answer as ever: “Where else am I gonna go?” And then, when you don’t reply, he takes your hand and gets comfortable on the carpet. He’s never, not once, tried to do more than that after nights like this, knowing too much touch will bring it all back. “Gonna be right here till sunrise, okay? Always gonna be another sunrise.”

It should be a comfort, but it feels like a death sentence. Doing this all over again tomorrow…

But he’s here. He’ll always be here. The only good thing this world has ever given you.

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arsenicjuice · 3 months ago

Text

Broken Mugs & Great Communication

Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 796

CW: Pregnancy

When it comes to communication, you're not exactly the best. And why, when you have important news to share with Bucky, should that change now?

“Here you go, Buck.” You placed a mug of coffee in front of your husband and squeezed his shoulder.

“Thanks, doll.” Bucky gave you a smile before turning his attention back to his book. Filling your own mug with tea, you sat cross from him, and placed your hands under your chin. Bucky glanced up and smile at you. You smiled back and motioned for him to continue reading.

You just propped your elbows on the table and watched him. Bucky glanced up again, and seeing that you were still staring at him, abandoned his book and picked up his mug. “Am I missing something here, doll?” He looked at you over the mug.

“Why, whatever on earth do you mean, James?” You blinked rapidly and gave him an innocent smile. Bucky narrowed his eyes and put down the mug.

“To begin with, you haven’t stopped staring at me since you sat down,”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“That and you’re calling me by my given name. You never do that,” Bucky picked up his mug again. “Unless I’m in trouble, or you’ve done something.” Bucky failed to see the smirk on your face as he took another swig of coffee.

“Maybe it’s a little of both.” He looked up to see your mischievous expression.

“Well, that makes me feel much better.” Bucky mumbled, putting the mug back down.

“Are you finished?” You leaned forward expectantly, looking from him to the mug with interest.

“Did you poison me or something?” Bucky glanced at the mug suspiciously. You shot him an unimpressed look.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.” Bucky shook his head and turned his attention back to the book. He glanced up again to see you looking from the mug to him wistfully. With a groan, he firmly shut the book and placed it off to the side. Clearly, he wasn’t going to get much reading done today.

“Baby, what’s going on? You’ve been acting funny all morning.” You folded your arms and leaned forward.

“I’m always funny, James.”

“Again, with James.” Bucky moaned, leaning back in his chair. He noted the way you glanced at the mug again. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned towards the mug. And he also noticed your obvious and instant disinterest in the mug.

“Hey, Buck?”

“Hm?” Bucky was now holding the mug, inspecting it for any obvious signs of tampering.

“Would you still love me if I, oh, I don’t know, inflated like a bowling ball.”

“Of course,” You narrowed your eyes. He wasn’t listening to you. “Bucky, just finish the coffee!” His eyes shot up to meet yours at the urgency in your voice. He was taken aback by the almost desperate look on your face.

“I did.” Placing the mug on the table, he turned his attention to you.

“And?” You leaned forward.

“And?” Bucky leaned forward. “And what?"

“Ugh!” You flopped back in your chair, thoroughly exasperated. “Look again, Bucky, on the inside this time.” Man, did you really have to spell it out for this man. Bucky hesistantly picked up the mug again and this time he noticed writing on the inside of the mug.

‘Congrats On Your Aim.’

“I’m clearly missing something here.” Bucky furrowed his brows and looked up to see you, face down on the table. “Angel, give me a hint.” You lifted your head to look at him before resuming your former position.

“You’ve still got game old man.” Bucky tightened his grip on the mug, trying to fight his growing suspicions.

“You said something a few minutes ago.” He looked back at the mug, waiting.

“If I swelled up like a bowling ball, would you still love me?” Your voice was muffled by the table.

“Clear language, doll.” Bucky’s voice had grown husky. You looked up at him and rested your chin on the table.

“Congrats Sergeant, we’re adding another member to the platoon.” Bucky dropped the mug on the floor. “Oh, Bucky!” You jumped to your feet and moved to pick up the glass. Bucky stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Angel...” His voice was thick with emotion. You turned fully towards him and moved to stand in front of him. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and looked up at you. Running a hand through his hair, you cupped his jaw with your other hand and gave him a soft smile. Bucky sniffed and looked at your stomach.

Pulling you closer, he buried his face into your shirt. You wound your arms around his head. The fingers of his vibranium hand flexed against your skin. “Thank you.” His voice was muffled by fabric. You bent your head and placed a kiss onto the top of his head, the broken glass completely forgotten.

@lazyjellyfish300 😉

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic

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jjjjisun · 1 month ago

Text

Coming In First (Part 3)

Eunchae X 2 Male OC | 14670 words

TW: Incest

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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

—

Jinwoo awoke in the morning sorely needing to pee after the night full of beer and margaritas. Seeing his little sister's door closed, he decided to let the little princess get her beauty rest. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the activities of the previous day came back to him in a slow, steady stream. It put a smile on his face immediately.

Pushing the door to his brother's room open, he heard the big oaf's heavy breathing and observed him sprawled across the bed. He'd be sleeping there next, even if he had to fight his brother for it.

As he stumbled lazily into the bathroom, Jinwoo found the toilet and was almost done relieving himself as he looked around the luxurious bathroom. Everything was quite nice: the fixtures, the overlook of the ocean from within the shower, even the bathmat looked plush.

But Jinwoo looked curiously at what was laying half-on the white mat. A cute pair of panties and matching bra had been cast off outside the shower. Shaking at the toilet before reseating his member, Jinwoo walked over to the underwear and picked it up. As his fingers connected with a cup of the bra, he could feel it was wet.

He may have been still waking up, but it took only a few seconds as he put two and two together. Jinwoo had fallen asleep to the droning sound of the shower in Jae's room. 'That son of a bitch,' Jinwoo thought to himself. He smiled, a bit jealous, as he wondered what had happened that night as he slept.

"So..." Jinwoo started after they had all gotten ready and met at the poolside cafe for breakfast, He sipped his coffee blatantly as he sat across the table from his brother, who was clearly still groggy.

"What?" Jae responded, sounding annoyed.

"How was your sleep, then?" Jinwoo asked, squinting at his brother knowingly.

Jae heard in his tone that he wasn't just asking, or even complaining about the fact that he'd had to sleep on the couch. The sideways grin that Jinwoo was wearing told him that his little brother already knew about the night before.

"Shit... did you wake up or something?"

"No," replied Jinwoo, "but I saw our sister's wet underwear in the bathroom and figured it out."

"Ouch, do you need some ice to cool your brain down after that?" Jae said, grinning.

Jinwoo was unimpressed.

"Relax man; I only got what you did yesterday..." Jae started, "only I got to finish on those perfect tits of hers, SUCKER!"

Jinwoo swore and laughed at his big brother's boast. Both jealous and relieved that he hadn't missed out on anything too serious.

"I think she intends to extend this game of hers for the whole trip, if I'm not mistaken." surmised the older brother.

"Yeah, I was kinda thinking the same thing." replied Jinwoo.

"I'm good with the competition if you are. I mean, it seems like she's not going to leave either of us high and dry no matter what."

"I think you're right, and I'm fine with it too, as long as you don't cry too much when I beat your ass every time." goaded Jinwoo.

Jae didn't answer; he simply made a jerking motion with his hands and then held his hands over his own chest as if he had breasts like Eunchae.

Jinwoo immediately understood his brother's charade, and gave him that same look.

"We better get going." said the younger, "we're supposed to go into town today."

"Ugh... mom and Eunchae will be looking at a thousand versions of the same hat or necklace I'm sure." Jae guessed, getting another laugh from his sibling.

He wasn't entirely wrong. Eunchae and her mom did spend the better part of the morning looking at street vendors who all seemed to be selling the same thing. At least, it looked that way to the men of the family. Of course, watching Eunchae prance around in a knitted top that left her entire midsection to the hungry eyes of her brothers was a bit of recompense.

Lunch proved to be worth looking forward to as well. The resort did a great job with the food, and there was a lot to choose from, but the local food in town seemed to somehow be far better. The weathered old lady who brought their food out to them had probably been making tamales since before she should speak, or so their dad had commented.

Thankfully, the family split up after lunch. Both boys became slowly friendlier with their little sister. Touching here, glancing there, a few loaded comments - Eunchae could tell that being deprived any opportunity to express their attraction during the morning had gotten them a bit randy. She felt it too, and she had definitely sensed their prying eyes on her every time she bent over at one of the shopping displays.

Unbeknownst to them, Eunchae had been plotting another little game the whole morning. It all depended on whether or not they had been paying attention to the merchandise or the shape of her ass when she was ogling the jewelry that morning.

And sure enough, as soon as none of the three of them could stand it anymore, Eunchae pulled them aside one of the shops, kissed them quickly on the lip, one after another, and explained the game.

After some griping by Jae, and a couple of frustrated sighs from Jinwoo (who couldn't tell a rock from a ruby she imagined) they were off in search of the necklace she'd decided upon. She gave them both a description of the necklace and money to buy it, making sure not to imply that her affections could be 'bought.'

Neither brother knew what to expect if they came back with the right necklace, but judging by the day before, they both took off running. Eunchae laughed as she watched them gallop down the alley, shoving each other and laughing with each step.

Again, she found herself getting more nervous while they were out in search of the right piece of jewelry. She settled outside an authentic little bar nearby with Mexican music playing softly inside and drank a margarita as she waited for them to return. No matter what had happened up to that point, or how vehemently she knew that she wanted things to progress with her brothers, it would still make her nervous. Her feelings were so strong, so unexpected and unknown. It was such a rush, and at the same time almost alarming.

Yet, when she saw Jinwoo jogging back up the street with a necklace in hand, she felt the tell-tale excitement that reminded her how amazing things had become with both him and Jae.

Jinwoo held out the necklace to her when he reached the table, grinning like a fool as he presented it. As he watched his little sister examine the piece, his grin turned upside down almost immediately when Eunchae's face turned to him with a sympathetic frown.

"I'm so sorry Jinwoo, it's really pretty, but that's not the one I was talking about. The right one has..."

"...Four stones and three hanging from each one, not the other way around." Said Jae, setting his on Eunchae's napkin. They hadn't even seen him approach, "and they're a lot lighter blue than that. Jesus man, is your grasp of colors as bad as your letters?"

Jinwoo stood there, dumbfounded.

"It's alright pal, better luck next time."

Eunchae was truly sad to see her brother so disappointed. She stood up and gave him a kiss on the lips. Her parents weren't around, she thought, so she let it linger a few seconds as well.

"I like yours too," Eunchae told him, "don't worry, we've got all week."

Jae and Eunchae headed back to their hotel, leaving Jinwoo at the bar to finish Eunchae's drink and have one of his own. He flirted with the owner's daughter when she brought it out to him, but that only helped a little.

Jae found out, when he and Eunchae got back to the room, that his reward for bringing his little sister the right necklace was two-fold. First, she turned on some music and teased him with a dance. She'd done it before in her room at home, although alone without the painfully slow removal of her clothes. Also, nobody had been there to get a boner almost immediately the way Jae did. For the few moments he had to restrain himself, Jae was tortured by the rhythmic motion of his sister's hips and the undulating curves she was made up of. He'd always know Eunchae had the capacity to be sexy, but her dancing simply blew him away.

As each piece of clothing hit the floor, Jae's heart beat faster. He watched his little sister prance about until all that was left was the necklace dangling around her neck. Obeying her request to let her do her thing, mostly, Jae only touched her gently when she put her naked butt in his lap. How badly he wanted to tug off his shorts and pull his teenaged sister down onto his cock for her first time... but he was patient. It wasn't exactly stripping; Eunchae seemed to be enjoying herself while she swayed to one of her favorite songs. And it wasn't overly sexxed up either, but Jae appreciated getting to watch his adorable sister dance around in her own little world.

When she was done, Jae watched intently as his beautiful sister, now completely naked for him, turned around to face him. She'd wiggled her perfect little ass around just right in his lap and could see his cock straining against his shorts. Eunchae wanted badly to see it once again, but did her best to stave off her impatience and slowly move her hands to her brother's lap.

"Fuck Eunchae..." Jae uttered, wanting her to stop teasing him so mercilessly.

He watched his naked little sis bite her lip and stare up at him intently as she undid his shorts. Eunchae paused to caress his length through his boxers before finally sliding everything off and taking a sharp little breath as his cock sprang free. It gave Jae immense pleasure to see his sister's eyes light up as she saw his size again.

He expected her to reach down and touch him as she had before, but it took a few seconds before she could take her eyes off his erection. Eunchae even giggled when she saw it bob along with Jae's beating heart - knowing he wanted desperately to be attended to.

Instead, Eunchae looked back up at him and held his gaze. She watched his eyes widen as she leaned in toward his erect member. The excited teenager couldn't help but smile as her brother's mouth opened when his tip came into contact with Eunchae's lips.

She kissed it gently, still staring up at him - wanting to witness everything he was feeling in his eyes. She darted her tongue out once...twice, hearing him take a deep breath as she gently lapped at sensitive spot below his tip.

He wanted to tell her to keep going, to beg her to grab him with both hands, but Jae was speechless.

Looking down, Eunchae observed a little bead of precum glistening on his head. Further astounding her older brother, she opened her lips ever so much and brought them down for another kiss and a lick at his slit. The liquid tasted surprisingly sweeter than she expected, but the involuntary moan from Jae was far more rewarding. Eunchae decided to stop teasing him and opened her mouth again.

The determined teenager did her best to look up at him as she pressed her lips against his tip and slowly slid him into her mouth. Just as she had expected, even Jae's tip was a lot for her to wrap her lips around. For a few seconds, it was all she could do to simply work his head in and out of her mouth.

Jae felt his little sister's hands brace themselves on his thighs. She stabilized herself and began trying to fit more of his big penis into her mouth. He loved watching her - seeing Eunchae try to keep looking up at him and then struggle to do so as she pushed more of his length into her mouth.

After a moment or so, she had gotten almost half of him into her mouth and felt Jae's tip pressing as far as she thought it would go. Eunchae had looked up how to do this online and seen women fit their man all the way to the base, but she felt positive that would not work with either of her brothers now.

She lifted her head and looked up disappointedly, "I can't fit it all in my mouth Jae, it's too big..."

Jae smiled and chuckled a little, "It's okay sis, what you're doing feels incredible."

"Want me to use my hands too?" Eunchae asked, smiling when Jae nodded enthusiastically.

Truthfully, Jae was so worked up he thought he might cum soon anyway, and then Eunchae brought both her hands to his shaft. Kneeling there, naked and unfathomably gorgeous before him, Jae marveled at the blessing of what was happening between he and Eunchae. As she sucked at him with determination, stroking her hands along the length she couldn't fit in her mouth and making sure to look up and check that she was doing a good job, Jae felt certain he'd never get a better blowjob in his life.

Only a few moments later, Eunchae could sense her brother nearing his orgasm and her body tingled with excitement. She bobbed her head on him a few more times until Jae spoke with a sense of urgency,

"Oh shit... Eunchae...I'm gonna cum!

"Good!" Eunchae spoke, releasing her lips for only a second while she slid her hands along his wet shaft. She swirled her tongue around his tip and jerked him, planting one final kiss there before his hips bucked and she leaned back to let him climax.

Eunchae pumped him relentlessly and was rewarded with a powerful jet of sperm right across her chest. The proud little brunette felt his entire cock throb in her hand each time he squirted out another white rope. It was warm on her chest, and copiously covered her as it had in the shower. It was hard to choose whether to gaze down at the incredible sight of her brother's messy spunk on her chest or into his eyes as he rewarded her efforts.

Jae had to eventually reach down and still his sister's hands when the last of his orgasm had left him and he was too sensitive to allow her to continue.

"God Eunchae, is there any way you aren't perfect?" he said after catching his breath. Looking down at her to see her beautiful smile and the incestuous masterpiece he'd painted on her tits, Jae was pretty sure he knew the answer to his own question.

Like a good brother, Jae carefully picked up his baby sis and brought her over to his bed with her legs wrapped around him. They wrapped around him again when he teased her for too long with kisses to her inner thighs instead of where she wanted them.

She tasted delicious, as he should have expected. Even more beautiful were the sounds that came from her - little moans and gasps as she felt things she'd never experienced before. Jae wanted to stay there with her fingers running through his hair and her legs fumbling about around him forever.

Eunchae had never had a boy's mouth on her pussy before, and Jae was so wonderful. At first he was slow and gentle, but as his little sister urged him on with her gasping fingers in his hair, Jae began to use his mouth on her in just the right ways. It didn't take long for the teens tiny folds to become drenched in her arousal, and not long after that her hips were writhing repeatedly in Jae's firm grasp.

He kissed and sucked steadily at her clit before using his tongue relentlessly on her until she screamed out in a climax that came faster and harder than any she'd ever had before. Jae wondered, as she cried out his name and her back arched involuntarily, if a little sister had ever been treated quite the same way in that room before, or the whole resort for that matter. A mischievous smile appeared on Jae's face as he doubted many had ever done what he and Eunchae were now. But he only removed his mouth from Eunchae's pussy when she had cum a second time and sounded as if she was struggling to catch her breath.

"Oh...my...god... that was amazing!" gasped Eunchae, after a moment or two of silence had passed.

Jae had tried to wipe his face of Eunchae's copious fluids, but she could still see a little sheen on his upper lip. She didn't care, and rolled over to kiss him where he lay beside her.

"You were pretty amazing yourself, Eunchae," Jae told her, caressing her side as they lay together, "I hope you didn't learn to dance like that by dancing for any other boys though,"

"Why?" Eunchae asked, "feeling a little jealous."

Jae laughed, "I think we're a little past that don't you?"

Eunchae laughed too. As always, she was amazed at how well her brothers were handling their little love triangle, adding further suspicion to her mind that the two of them were far more familiar with what was going on between them than she.

Jae grumbled when Eunchae told him they'd better get down to the pool so as not to raise suspicion if their parents came back and the two siblings were missing. He shamelessly copped a feel of her breast, and Eunchae briefly considered staying in bed and trying out the techniques he'd taught her one more time. But she knew that they couldn't throw caution completely to the wind, and got up out of bed with her brother's eyes fixed upon her. He simply couldn't wait until the next chance he'd get with her.

-----------------

The chance didn't come that night; they were together as a family as their mother insisted, until it was too late to do anything but sleep. It was a welcome reprieve, with all three siblings still learning how to balance their thoughts and desires with the expected, normal behavior of brothers and sisters. Overall, it was easier than they thought.

Jae and Jinwoo woke up late the next morning. They had both gotten a little drunk the night before, and sleeping in typically did wonders. Jinwoo yelled from within the bedroom, "HEEEYYYY.... DAAAAAN.... YOU AWAKE?" trying to be as annoying as possible.

He heard his brother groan from the next room, "whaaaaaat?" Jae asked in return, head still half-immersed in a pillow.

"YOU AWAKE?" Jinwoo repeated, smiling to himself.

"I am now," Jae relented, looking up to see Jinwoo wander through his bedroom doorway.

"Hey," Jinwoo said as he looked across the room, "Eunchae's gone."

Sure enough, they could see sunlight streaming across a made bed within her room. Both brothers had a comically identical look of curiosity on their faces as they observed it.

Jinwoo walked over to the granite coffee bar, intending to make a quick cup while the two of them got ready. There was a note on the table, with handwriting that was distinctly Eunchae's. He scanned it quickly, and then practically choked when he read the last part...

"WHAT?" Jae asked upon hearing his brother's gasp and the look on his face. When Jinwoo didn't respond immediately, he asked again, "Dude! What?"

"Eunchae left a note," Jinwoo said, grabbing it and walking over to his brother. He held it up, reading it again a few feet from Jae.

"What does it say?" Jae asked impatiently. Purposefully withholding, Jinwoo held the note away from Jae and raised his eyebrows.

"Come on!" Jae asked, still not willing to get up from the pull-out.

Jinwoo finally handed it to him and watched Jae's eyes quickly flit over the neatly written words.

"Good morning boys!

Mom and Dad said that they are having a spa day today, that apparently we are not invited to! I went for a run and I thought I'd end it at that little place we found the other day. I'll probably be done, and hungry by the time you losers finally wake up. I have another contest for you two; bring something healthy for me to eat and come meet me there. By the way, because I know you two so well - it's not a race.

Love,

Eunchae

P.S. I didn't know where to find one, but one of you should also bring a condom..."

Like his brother, Jae too coughed upon reading the last words. Of course he'd thought about it, dreamt about it, but he'd thought his little sister would surely draw the line at what they'd done in the last few days.

"Fuck..." Jae said, looking up at his brother, wide-eyed.

Jinwoo glared back down at him with the same expression, "I know right!"

"Fuck." Jae repeated.

"You don't think she means...?" Jinwoo asked without finishing

"Um... I don't know what else she could possibly mean."

"No... she must be just messing with us... I mean... I know we've been fooling around and all, but this!?"

Jae just sorta tweaked his face to the side, obviously more ready to accept what his little sister was implying than Jinwoo. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Jae, unlike like his younger counterpart, was not still a virgin.

"Will you... I mean would you?" Jinwoo asked.

Jae remained silent for a few seconds before responding decisively.

"If she wants to, then hell yes!"

Jinwoo laughed, surprised.

"Dude...it's our sister... we couldn't. That's incest. I mean...." Jinwoo was stuttering through his words, "we just CAN'T."

"DUDE," Jae mocked him, "You already HAVE. What did you think you were doing with her the other day, just pretending?"

The more inexperienced of the two, Jinwoo, still stood in place, baffled.

"But you know what, you don't need to worry about it," Jae continued, "because there is no way in hell I am going to let you beat me this time."

"OH YEAH RIGHT! You LET me beat you last time huh?" Jinwoo fired back. This time, they would be competing for a prize they actually knew about. The fire of competition flashed in their eyes.

"Oh now you're interested huh," Jae prodded, "SEE, you want to. And from the look of this note so does our sister. I just don't want you to get ahead of yourself because you're going to lose."

"Yeah, we'll see about that I guess." Jinwoo responded, full of attitude.

Jae decided not to incite things any further, he could tell that his little brother wanted to win his little sister's virginity just as badly as he, if not more so. As always, it felt odd... admitting to himself that he wanted to be Eunchae's first, let alone competing with his brother for it. But if she wanted it too, Jae knew that he would be there in a heartbeat to 'take care' of his little sister.

After revealing to Jinwoo that he'd brought condoms with him on the vacation, just to be prepared, which earned him some admonishing from his little brother, the two boys were dressed and ready to go. And as they headed out of the room, both Jae and Jinwoo felt their hearts beating faster than usual.

Despite the bit of competition ahead of them, the two brothers were once again as thick as ever. Of course, Jae, being the older brother, knew it was his duty to remind Jinwoo that he was going to win, and Jinwoo took it in stride. Somehow, an unspoken agreement had formed between the two of them not to be overly jealous, and Eunchae had done a wonderful job of sharing her attention with the two of them.

On the way to get breakfast and some fresh fruit for Eunchae, Jae talked about how to do 'it' for the first time. He described, always reminding his little brother he 'wouldn't have to worry about it anyway,' how to make sure it would be good for Eunchae since it was her first time too. Jinwoo had seen porn, he reminded his brother, when Jae started talking about sex positions.

"Well EXCUSE ME, Casanova," Jae spat as he and his brother walked along the beach to the hideaway, "Just a suggestion, you might not want to try anything too crazy on your first time, however many years from now that will be."

Jinwoo pushed Jae hard enough that he veered over to the lapping waves, getting a hearty laugh and a smirk from his big brother. Though they didn't acknowledge it aloud, both brothers could feel their chests pounding harder and their imaginations running wilder with each step toward the secret hideaway in the rocks. The thought of what would happen in the solitude of that reservoir was yet beyond either boy's ability to grasp, but it became more real with each additional footprint left behind them in the sand.

Eunchae had been sitting alone on a towel, with the morning sun hitting her body at just the right angle to work on her tan. She could probably have sunbathed naked with the privacy of the stone walls, but she didn't want to make it THAT easy for her brothers once they arrived. After finishing her run, Eunchae had grabbed the bag she stashed on the beach with the bathing suit she now wore. It was the one that drove even her dad wild when she wore it... Eunchae thought naughtily - surely her brothers would approve.

It had been a good half-hour of sitting there alone, maybe more, listening to the water outside and dipping her feet in the still pool in front of her. At first, her body seemed to be entirely on edge; her heart refused to slow its beating. She kept thinking about the last words she'd written in the note to her brothers and what they meant.

This could be it. All the talk with her girlfriends in the locker room, the admission to both boys separately that she was still a virgin, and the final stage of the most exciting week of her life spent with her older brothers was coming to a head. After a time, her mind quieted, and Eunchae felt herself becoming immensely happy with what she intended to happen with either Jae or Jinwoo.

On one hand, Eunchae knew that the younger of the two brothers would be gentle. Jinwoo would go slow and ask her how she was doing, which was probably good because both he and Jae were definitely bigger than the boys her friends had talked about losing their virginity to in the past. It would be exciting if Jinwoo was her first and she his. On the other hand, Jae knew what he was doing. She'd loved the way he took charge of her in the shower... and in the bedroom yesterday. She felt intimidated by her oldest brother sometimes, and more often than not it made her aroused beyond belief.

Eunchae was imagining both brothers, sun-bathing in a dream-like state when the sound of Jae's voice in the narrow entry made her heart skip a beat.

"Did you need me to pull you through this time, big boy?" She heard him say, "you had a big dinner last night, it's okay if you don't fit. I'll take care of Eunchae for us."

Eunchae giggled out loud as she heard Jae's teasing. The sound of her filtered down the channel and instilled another wave of excitement in her brothers. They made brief eye contact and hurried into the hideaway.

Eunchae pretended she was too busy to be bothered. She stayed on her towel, closing her eyes and letting the sun light up her body for her brother's to gawk at. The silence that ensued as they entered put a little smile on the eighteen-year-old's face; she felt pleased and naughty that her appearance always had such an effect on them.

Jae smacked his brother on the chest as he came into the open space of the reservoir still babbling away. They both looked ahead of them to see their little sister laid out in the sunlight. She was wearing that damned bathing suit they'd bonded over the fateful day some weeks ago. It had a floral pattern in the band across her chest, obviously a size or two too small for her because her perfect breasts were pushed up amply within. Strapless and tiny, it left so much of the beautiful brunette's skin available to their hungry eyes that the two brothers felt weak at the knees. Her bottoms, simple, and equally revealing, hugged her hips with tight blue fabric that hid the prize that Eunchae had teased them with in her note.

She spoke first, without even opening her eyes: "Hi sleepyheads, did you bring me something to eat?"

"Yep, we got you some fruit, and one of those gross flavored waters you liked so much." Jinwoo replied. The boys threw out a towel on either side of their sister and lay down next to her. All three siblings knew that they'd eventually need to address the note that Eunchae had left, but nobody wanted to spoil things by rushing.

As the boys settled in around her, Eunchae felt even better in the presence of their affection than she had in the warmth of the morning sun. They took care of her, they had brought her food, they all chatted together and didn't make Eunchae feel like she owed them something. Because of the boys she'd encountered in the past, the young beauty was still shaking the doubt that anyone could treat her so well without attempting to get in her pants at every turn.

But their patience eroded, little by little, any of the doubts and reservations she had stored up about wanting to finally have sex. Sure, she felt their eyes on her from time to time as they ate and laughed, but by the time she licked the last of the mango from her fingers, it was Eunchae who was desperate to tell them about her game.

"So... I'm sure you're probably wondering about the note I left you this morning." Eunchae started. Both Jae and Jinwoo could hear the tone in her voice change, and noticed a little wavering in it as well as she continued. "I realized I was being a little forward, and that was probably dumb to write in case mom and dad had somehow seen. I just... I think..."

A touch on Eunchae's shoulder stopped her racing words, words she wasn't even sure how to say aloud. "Eunchae, take a breath." Jinwoo urged her, applying gentle pressure to her bare shoulder as he touched it. "It's just us; you don't have to be nervous."

Even Jae felt himself relax at his little brother's words. In a way he felt stunned, and a little proud that Jinwoo had developed so far that he knew just what to say to calm their baby sister. He watched Eunchae's body language change, the tension release from her upper body, and a deep breath fill her lungs like Jinwoo had asked her. Eunchae turned to her brother as he chimed in:

"We read your note Eunchae, and we both agreed that... well... fuck, yes you are way too hot and we are so into you we'd never say no..." Jae explained as his sister listened intently, "but we'd only do what you absolutely wanted to."

Her eyes went puppy-dog big and hopeful as Jae popped a grape into his mouth and smiled at her with it poking into his cheek.

When she turned back to Jinwoo, she could see that he agreed wholeheartedly. The beat in Eunchae's chest slowed, if only a little.

"I love you guys so much," she sang out, quickly sitting up and slinging her arms around Jinwoo's neck with a kiss to his cheek before doing the exact same to Jae.

"Jinwoo also agreed not to cry when I beat him today, just to set the record straight."

Eunchae laughed adorably, loving the way Jae could disarm her with only a touch of humor.

Seeing Jinwoo roll his eyes, Eunchae finally got the courage to retry her thinking.

"Well, I decided I want my first time, or...times... to be with you guys."

Jae and Jinwoo were satisfied to hear their sister suggest that there would be more than one opportunity to be with her; but they kept quiet and let her go on.

"I don't want either one of you to feel cheated; I would have sex with both of you at the same time if I could..." Eunchae said, seeing the immediate look of disdain on Jinwoo's face and the way that Jae shook his head 'no.'

Eunchae laughed, "I didn't think you would go for that, so I have one more contest for you if you're both willing to be my first."

"I'm in," said Jinwoo, rather quickly.

"May the best Jae win," said her oldest brother, causing the smile to run out of Jinwoo's face.

"But what about what we want?" Jae went on.

"What do you mean, I'm not enough?" Eunchae retorted, feigning hurt.

"Oh you're plenty, but if I'm going to be expected to work for it, I'm going to need some motivation," Eunchae eyed him curiously, "I'm going to need for you to be naked."

"Agreed," joined Jinwoo.

"Uh!" Eunchae gasped, smacking the younger of the two brothers for backing up such a ridiculous ask.

She looked deep in thought for a few seconds, before shaking her head, pleased with herself, "Fine! We can make that part of the game, but you two will need to risk being naked in front of each other then."

"Jae has always wanted to see my junk anyway," Jinwoo got in before Jae could make some equally sly remark.

"Ha! Yep, me, and me alone." Jae fired back.

Eunchae rolled her eyes, a flash of resemblance to a very similar look Jinwoo had made earlier. She glanced at both her brothers, took a deep breath and felt she was about to cross the final boundary into forbidden and exhilarating incest with her big brothers.

"Since you insist on being soooo immature, I'll play the first part of the game." she started, watching both her brothers look over her top, obviously thinking about taking it off.

"We'll each pick a challenge, my first one will be a handstand, and whoever does the best gets to choose who takes off an item of clothing."

It was a bit childish, but that was somewhat the nature of the whole competition thing anyway, except, of course, the prize. Both brothers shrugged in agreement. They watched their little sister stand up and cock her hip to the side before readying herself for a handstand.

"Jae, my phone's right there, use it to time me. I'll KNOW if you cheated."

Grabbing his sister's phone, he opened the timer and said, "Okay then, ready, set, go!"

Eunchae turned upside down on both hands, and her brothers were treated to the incredible view of her outstretched form, with her bouncy tits shaking as they upturned while she balanced.

5 seconds...

10 seconds...

22 seconds passed before Eunchae was confident she had already beaten her brothers thoroughly. Both brothers actually wished for a few more seconds as Eunchae's tits looked like they were one little adjustment away from shaking free of her top.

But Eunchae dismounted triumphantly and sure enough, Jinwoo executed the same move and came down in less than 2 seconds. Jae did a little better with 7, but it was Eunchae left smiling smugly as they sat down beside her, huffing and puffing from such little effort.

"Since you two are obviously both going to make me take MY clothes off, you BOTH have to take something off."

Jae and Jinwoo whined in unison.

"Do you really want to disagree with me right now?" She asked, holding all the cards and arching her back a little to emphasize her point.

Jinwoo was the first to move, but Eunchae was immediately enraged to see him take off his watch. Laughing and following suit, Jae removed the sunglasses from his head. They had gotten her there, but from the looks of it, neither brother had any more accessories to fall back on.

A push-up contest was Jinwoo's choice, obviously. It was hardly a contest at all. They insisted Eunchae go first, and when she could only do 14, Jinwoo needed only beat her by one.

To their dismay, Eunchae put a huge smile on her face and reached down to unclasp the jewel that hung at her belly button. Jae and Jinwoo threw their heads back, knowing they'd made a mistake with their first loss.

Jae's challenge was to name as many players on any one sports team they chose. Eunchae knew she was done for immediately. Jae started by naming the entire starting lineup of their city's baseball team, and Eunchae could only name two players on the NBA team she sometimes followed, one of which was LeBron James.

Eunchae surprised them by standing up and reaching for the tiny blue bottoms she had been wearing. The defeated teen paused to tease her brother's for a second with a slight wiggle of her backside.

Satisfied with the looks of amazement on their faces, she shimmied back and forth, painfully slowly, keeping her legs close together so all her brothers could see was her cute little butt and a hint of the untouched pussy one of them might get the chance with, if things went as planned.

Sitting back down while Jae and Jinwoo both pretended not to be stealing looks between her legs, Eunchae decided to retort by asking her brothers to name as many fashion designers as they could think of. Jinwoo surprised her with 6, and Jae only 3, one of which was a repeat from his brother. Obviously Eunchae had them beat.

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT!" Jae spoke over her when Eunchae had named almost 10 designers; she was just getting started. "You win!"

The boys shed their shirts, and Eunchae bit her lip to see both of her topless brothers and their attractive, manly chests.

"A breath holding contest, underwater," Jinwoo called out.

He was the first in the water, staying under for about 56 seconds. Eunchae clapped, a bit sarcastically for his liking. Jae lasted almost 48 before coming up gasping.

Eunchae sauntered down and into the water while her brothers gazed at her bare little ass. Jae could practically feel himself lining up behind her and pushing his cock between those round cheeks. He watched her take a deep breath and sink into the water.

When Eunchae passed the 1 minute mark, Jae and Jinwoo groaned.

"Did I win?" She asked, coming up and taking a gasping breath.

Their little sister was delighted to see the looks of defeat on their faces; she needn't have asked.

"Well then, off with your shorts!" She ordered them gleefully.

She stood with her feet still in the water as the boys hopped about pulling their swim trunks off. She wasn't surprised to see both of them were hard; it put a smile on her face to see their big cocks bobbing until they sat down.

Eunchae finally settled beside them like a queen accepting praise from her subjects. It was funny to watch them both avoid looking at each other now that both boys were naked.

"My final contest is a little different, hear me out." Jae said. Eunchae listened apprehensively.

"I bet I can take your top off with my teeth."

Eunchae laughed, mocking him.

"In twenty seconds." Jae continued.

Then she raised her eyebrows at him. "really...?" she asked frankly.

"Yep. And if I can't, then you leave your top on until you want to take it off."

Eunchae eyed him skeptically. "Ten seconds," she bartered.

"Fine. Deal." Jae agreed.

He made a motion for Eunchae to come sit in his lap. Despite the fact that she could feel the familiar arousal along with the cool air between her legs, Eunchae made sure to position herself well in front of him as she sat down so there wouldn't be any 'accidents.' Still she did enjoy the way Jae gripped her naked hips when she sat down, savoring the feel of his skin against hers.

Eunchae grabbed her phone, "I'll start the clock in three...two...one!"

Jae had practiced this move once before with a girl he'd dated for a few months. Of course, he wasn't going to tell her, but Eunchae's suit would be much easier. It involved a grab of his front teeth, a little flick of his tongue, and in five seconds Eunchae felt the tension in her overly small bikini top spring away.

"Let me help you with that," Jae offered, reaching his hands around her front as he'd done numerous times already. Jinwoo rolled his eyes yet again as he watched his brother palm Eunchae's bare tits while her bathing suit fell away.

She allowed him only a second, feeling him pinch her nipples gently and leaning back until she felt the touch of his erection against her lower back. Eunchae turned to look Jae in the eye and acknowledge that she felt it before sliding out of his lap and taking a seat back on her towel. God, whatever it was about how he touched her from behind like that, Jae could so easily get Eunchae aroused that it scared her. She had to take a few seconds to gather herself.

"Well, now that we got that over with..." the flutter returned to Eunchae's stomach as she spoke, "are you guys ready for the second part? Winner stays with me and the loser goes back and makes up an excuse to mom and dad if they're around."

Jae and Jinwoo nodded; they were both feeling nervous too. They watched Eunchae pick up the jewelry she'd taken off her belly button earlier.

"Okay... one at a time you're each going to go out that crack until I can't see you. While you're out there, I'm going to throw my piercing into the water. I'll tell you to come back, and start the clock when you dive in to search for it."

"Sounds easy enough. So whoever gets it faster wins?" Jinwoo asked.

"Uh huh." Eunchae confirmed. She was, indeed, sounding a little shy. "I'll tell you your times when both of you have gone.

"So Jinwoo goes first, obviously, because he's the youngest, right sis?"

"I guess so," Eunchae said, shrugging at Jinwoo.

Jinwoo glared at his brother and got up, walking out of the cave until Eunchae was sure he couldn't see them. She stood up, eyed a spot near the back of the pool and hucked the jewelry until it plunked down into the water. It was deep over there, and the sun wasn't shining straight down into the water anymore. She worried it might be too hard for him to find. Eunchae didn't want to rule Jinwoo out of the contest.

When Eunchae turned back around, her oldest brother was sitting next to where she'd been on her towel, smiling innocently. She squinted at him and sat back down, calling for Jinwoo to return.

"You didn't let Jae throw it, did you?" Jinwoo asked.

"Nope, are you ready?"

Jinwoo looked over his little beautiful, naked little sister, how she had her legs together off to her side, and her arms supporting her as she leaned back, with her perfect breasts begging for his gaze and more. He so badly wanted to be with her, to consummate whatever it was that had been happening to them over the last few weeks.

"I'm ready."

She counted him down and Jinwoo was off into the water. He started by looking in the totally wrong spot, taking deep breaths and searching the front of the pool. Eunchae watched 30 seconds tick by on her phone before he got any warmer.

Then she felt an unexpected kiss on her neck. Jae had leaned over and planted it there, causing his little sister's skin to tingle as his lips graced her. She cooed and tried to focus on where Jinwoo was searching.

She watched the younger of the two brothers, the one whose hand wasn't currently sliding its way up her abdomen until she could feel it at the curve of her right breast, splash back up to the top of the water before diving back in near the left side of the pool. A minute went by on the clock.

"Mnhhh... Jae.... this wasn't part of the contest." she mewwed.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.

When Eunchae didn't answer, Jae kissed her neck again and cupped her breast in his hand. A few more seconds ticked by as he rolled her nipple between his fingers and nibbled at her neck.

"Uhhhhh.... you're turning me on so much!" she told him, feeling her big brothers hands on her.

Hearing her praise, Jae pulled her closer and grasped her hip from behind. He kept kissing her while he slid his hand further between her legs.

1:30 ticked off the clock.

Eunchae held the phone on her other side so Jae couldn't see its time. She saw Jinwoo looking frustratedly around the pool, only glancing back at her for a second before diving closer toward where she'd thrown it.

As he submerged, the anxious brunette felt her oldest brother's fingers make contact with her bare pussy. She was practically drenched; she had been from the minute she set foot in the cave. Though she hadn't planned it, her oldest brother's touch as he pressed a finger gently between her tiny folds was a welcome relief.

"God... I want you," Jae whispered into her ear.

"Yeah?" Eunchae breathed, leaning back into his chest, "do you?"

Jae felt her hips flex into his hand as he added another finger to her clit. They were slipping around easily because of how wet his little sister was. Jae thought that if he only could lift his little sister up and pull her into his lap, he could be fucking her once and for all.

She moaned again, feeling the familiar daze of sensation and disbelief that she could feel so good at the hands of her brother. Eunchae forgot to keep looking at her phone. How long had it been?

"I GOT IT!" Jinwoo said, shooting out of the water with the jewel over his head. It was a scramble for Eunchae to snap out of her dreamlike state and reach down to stop the clock.

Jae didn't want to stop touching his little sister, but as Jinwoo wiped water from his eyes, she pushed him away and noted the time to herself. She had to focus on the competition and tell Jae no.

He growled, but complied as he watched his younger brother walk triumphantly out of the water. Jae had lost track of time, as he often did when in the presence of his beautiful little sis, but it seemed like Jinwoo had taken a while. Feeling confident he had already won, Jae stood up and gave his little sister a quick kiss on the cheek and one more defiant squeeze of her side before he walked to the back of the cave.

"Alright, out," Eunchae told him, giving him one more secretive smile before he passed between the rocks.

This time, Eunchae threw the piercing closer, near the middle-left of the pool, not far from the rock she had been sitting on topless when her brothers first entered the cave days ago.

Jinwoo shook his head, satisfied with her placement.

"Alright, you can come back now." She told Jae and he appeared a moment later. He looked determined. "Ready big brother?"

Jae nodded sharply, once. He glanced at his little sister once more, as Jinwoo had, and vowed that he'd be making her moan a lot louder after he found the jewel in a minute or less.

Off he went, diving headfirst into the water and heading right for where she'd thrown the jewel the first time.

"Man, that was hard, it's all dark down there, and the saltwater stings my eyes!" Jinwoo exclaimed.

"Aww, poor baby," Eunchae consoled him. This time, she got up and sat next to her brother on his towel. "Is there anything I can do?" She asked with big, sultry eyes.

"You can tell Jae I did better than him no matter what?" Jinwoo suggested.

"Nooo... I can't do that," Eunchae denied him, "but I could do this."

Jinwoo watched in disbelief as his little sister reached over to him and took his cock right into her tiny hand. He was almost hard again, seeing his little sibling naked would forever do that to him.

Thirty seconds went by on the clock when Eunchae leaned closer to kiss her brother on the lips as she began to move her hand up and down on him.

"God Eunchae," he whispered, "I really want to fuck you."

"Mnnnhhh..." she sounded, licking her lips, "I want you to fuck me too."

She kept stroking him, remaining a few inches from his face and looking him in the eyes as she did. As before, Eunchae lost track of how much time had gone by, and she snuck a few more kisses with Jinwoo while his older brother searched frantically for the piercing.

Eunchae felt so incredibly aroused that she had to do more; she flashed a mischievous smile at her brother and then leaned down into his lap.

"GOT IT!" said Jae, blubbing through the water that was cascading from his hair. The last thing Eunchae saw was sincere look of remorse on Jinwoo's face for what he'd missed out on. Eunchae went to stop the clock when she heard.

"SHIT!" and Jae went diving back into the water. A few quiet seconds passed, maybe ten, and she and Jinwoo exchanged confused looks.

He emerged again shouting, "I got it, I got it! That doesn't count!"

Jae trudged up the sand and stood in front of his little sister, dripping and holding out the jewel triumphantly. "You're not going to count that last part, right?"

"I've got to Jae, you dropped it." she said, trying to be sympathetic.

Jae plopped down on his towel, frustrated, as Eunchae looked at the two times she'd entered into her phone.

"Jinwoo, you got....." she glanced up at him, seeing an adorable look of hope in his eyes.

"2 minutes and 14 seconds."

Jinwoo breathed out, feeling his heart beating as hard as he thought it possibly could. '2:14,' he thought, 'that had to beat Jae after his blunder.'

She turned to Jae, "Jae, after you came up the second time, your time....was....."

Like Jinwoo, he had the same, boyish look on his face. "two minutes........"

She let it linger, knowing the answer and practically shaking that reality was a few words away.

"And 3 seconds."

Both brothers had been holding their breath, and they exhaled loudly - Jae in victory, Jinwoo in defeat. Eunchae grinned at her oldest brother as he smiled bashfully, having won HER as a prize. When she looked at Jinwoo, she could see that he was trying not to be a bad sport, but was so obviously disappointed, that her heart broke for him.

There was a moment where neither of them said anything. Eunchae wondered if her brothers would argue over the fairness, demand a rematch, or even lunge in front of her and beat each other senseless until only one would be left standing to give Eunchae what she'd asked for.

But Jinwoo was always a good sport, "Alright..." he said at last, "I'll leave you two alone," he said, standing up. Eunchae got up with him and stood between him and the exit. She gave him a little frown of understanding, and then stood up on her toes to give him a kiss. Each second that passed, Eunchae was nearing the moment she would finally lose her virginity, and commit incest at the same time no less. Still, she wanted Jinwoo to know that she loved him just the same, that she would have made to him happily as well.

Jae remained silent until they broke and Eunchae held her brother's hand while he turned and walked toward the cleft at the back of the cave. She turned back to her brother, wondering what he thought about the whole thing, if he was excited to be with her, when Jae spoke up.

"Jinwoo, wait!" he said loudly, causing the younger of the two to stop in his tracks and turn around. He was about to tell his brother that he wasn't in the mood for any gloating just then when he saw Jae rummaging in the bag they'd brought.

He stood up and tossed something quickly at Jinwoo's chest in one fluid motion. And when Jinwoo looked down, he didn't understand. 'Was this Jae's way of making fun of him?'

Jinwoo turned over the box of condoms in his hand, looking up from them, utterly confused.

"Ughh..." Jae sighed, "I'm going to hate myself for this... but how can I stand in the way of you two having your first times together?"

At first Eunchae hadn't understood, but now she did. She couldn't believe it! Jinwoo still hadn't quite registered it in his brain, but he was getting there.

"But Jae," Eunchae started.

"Jae, you won, fair and square man," Jinwoo said. "don't worry about me."

"Seriously, don't guys. I know I'm right but I'm sure you could talk me out of it." Jae interrupted.

Jinwoo and Eunchae looked at each other again, and she knew then why Jae had chosen to do what he did. 'God was he cute, for one,' Eunchae thought as she stared at her oldest brother, still butt naked and carrying his swimsuit in his other hand. But she imagined, briefly, how amazing it would be to lose her virginity at the same time as Jinwoo. She remembered talking about it with him, and feeling this incredible bond of love that only the two of them shared. 'Sharing this would be so worth it,' she thought.

"I'm gonna get out of here before I go insane, I can't keep looking at...." he gestured to his naked little sister, up and down, "this... and know what I'm missing out on."

Jae stepped in the direction of the rocks as Jinwoo was wandering back into the cave, speechless.

Before Jae could leave, he heard Eunchae running right toward him. He turned just in time when she threw herself at him, kissing him right on the lips and wrapping her arms around him tight.

"I love you so much," she said, before whispering, "and I promise you can have me however you want later."

Jae smiled and kissed her one last time, palming her butt with a squeeze and pushing her back toward his brother, cursing at himself inwardly for having realized it was the right thing to do. He'd need to take his little sister up on that offer, without a doubt.

When Eunchae saw Jae disappear, and it was just her and Jinwoo left, she turned to him. The nervous eighteen-year-old didn't know what to say, so she just walked close enough for him to touch her.

"I know it isn't exactly how you planned it..." Jinwoo spoke first,

"Are you kidding, I'm really happy you're going to be my first."

With that, Jinwoo reached out, taking his little sister by the shoulders and pulling her towards him; she closed the gap willingly.

The lapping waves were all that either sibling could hear, save the constant 'thud, thud, thud' of their hearts beating all the way into their heads. Eunchae and Jinwoo kissed like the passionate lovers they were. His hands got more confident; they grasped her hips, then ran over her abdomen and palmed a breast. Eunchae was soon finding her body doing everything of its own volition too. Her nervousness eking away slowly as Jinwoo assured her, kiss by kiss, and touch by touch, that her first time would be everything she'd hoped and more.

She reached down to take hold of her brother's cock, finding it harder than she ever remembered before. 'He felt so big, how would she possibly fit him?' she thought. Nerves aside, Eunchae desperately wanted to feel him inside her.

"I don't want to rush us, but I want it bad," she cooed, stroking her hand slowly along his length. She squeezed at the base of his cock and felt him wince with sensation.

For another moment or so, they kissed and their hands wandered all over each other. Eunchae's worked their way up and down her brother's shaft and one glanced across his muscular frame. She felt lucky - her brother was far more cut and attractive than most of the guys her friends had bragged about hooking up with. And he was going to be her first! Eunchae couldn't contain herself, only a few moments of kissing her brother and feeling his hands on her and she wasn't willing to wait another second

"Are you ready to put this big cock of yours in your little sister?" she asked, turning naughty without even thinking about it.

"God yes," Jinwoo replied, kissing her again and wondering what he had ever done in his life to be blessed with such a beautiful, fuckable little sis.

"Give me one of those things," Eunchae demanded, reaching out for the condoms Jinwoo had dropped at his side.

He tore open the box and all but one went flying out around them on the sand. Eunchae laughed and saw his hands shaking as he held the destroyed box. She put her hands over his, and Jinwoo could feel that his little sister was trembling too.

"We're both so nervous," she shared, "but I think that's okay. You want this, right?"

"More than I could ever tell you," Jinwoo admitted, to which Eunchae stood up on her toes and gave him another kiss, gently plucking the last condom from the tattered box. Jinwoo dropped the remains to the ground while his little sister worked her fingers around the wrapper and tore it open, more carefully than Jinwoo had the box.

They looked down as Eunchae took the oily ring in her fingers and moved it to Jinwoo's tip.

"Other way," he said, getting another nervous giggle from his inexperienced little sis as she flipped it around.

Slowly, steadily, she rolled it down her brother's shaft. It took a few tries, but when she was finally done, they both looked up from her work and knew it was time.

Jinwoo scooped his little sister up by the behind and bent down to the knapsack for the last towel, all with Eunchae held safely in his arms.

He walked her over toward a large boulder at the edge of the water and set her there atop the folded towel. It would be perfect. This was the spot where Eunchae would lose her virginity to her big brother, and Jinwoo to her.

She gazed up at him with a look of worry and excitement, fear and hopefulness.

"Go slow," she said quietly, knowing he would anyway.

"I will Eunchae. I love you little one."

"God I love you too," she replied, "go ahead, I'm ready."

Jinwoo reached down between them, taking hold of his cock and bringing its tip close enough to push inside his little sister. As he touched down, Eunchae inhaled sharply.

Jinwoo rubbed back and forth gently, once gliding all the way forward so she could see how deeply he would reach. Eunchae's eyes widened and her mouth opened in amazement. She moaned aloud when Jinwoo put his tip right at her lips and wiggled it there so it just barely split them. Then he pushed a little bit more firmly, testing it before rubbing over her clit once more. The condom felt a little foreign to both of them, not that any of this was familiar, but Eunchae was so wet that he slid around easily.

"Fuuuuuck...Jinwoo...please.... put it in, please...."

They looked down in unison as he lined up one last time.

Jinwoo urged his hips forth.

His tip split her mounded little lips for sure this time, but he didn't stop there. Doing as his older brother instructed, Jinwoo pushed forward and saw his little sister's eyes grow as he encountered resistance just beyond her tiny, wet opening.

"Oooooouuuuwwwww...." cried the teen as her brother's cock tore past her virginity.

It hurt. Her eyes teared up, and they looked to her brother for relief. Jae had warned them both at some point that it might hurt Eunchae at first, and he'd been right.

Jinwoo took hold of her hand and his little sister gripped it so hard it hurt as she adjusted to his size.

"Ouuhhh..... ouuuh.....uhhhh..." she panted, rolling her head backwards as Jinwoo remained still.

Eunchae's tiny pussy felt so incredible around his tip. He was only an inch or so in, with much further to go. He hoped to God that she would allow him to continue. The warmth, the pressure around his head... it was too much to stop now.

"Are you alright?" he asked compassionately.

Eunchae took a second to answer, "yeah, I'm okay; I just need a minute..... mmnphhh....god! Why does your cock have to be so big?"

Jinwoo couldn't help but smile proudly, though he felt badly for hurting his little sister.

"You're doing good sis, only a few inches more to go," Jinwoo told her.

Eunchae looked down at where her brother's cock was spreading her little pussy open wider than she thought possible.

"A few?!" Eunchae exclaimed, seeing that he wasn't even half-way in.

She lay back again, catching her breath and giving her big brother a phenomenal view of her body, which was ever so lightly graced with the sheen of sweat. Her grip on his hand abated breath by breath, until Eunchae spoke again.

"Okay, I think I'm ready, you can keep going."

Jinwoo did as she instructed, watching her adorable face scrunch up as he slid another inch into her.

"Fuuuuckkk, your cock is so big....unhhhh..."

He kept pushing, and though Eunchae's virgin tunnel fought him the whole way, Jinwoo's cock disappeared into her little by little. A few seconds later, amongst the continued moaning of his eighteen-year-old sister, Jinwoo finally felt his pelvis connect with hers.

Eunchae couldn't look yet. She'd never felt anything like it in her life. Her whole body was screaming and the feeling of being filled up was beyond comprehension. Jinwoo watched her as she cooed and breathed sporadically.

When Eunchae caught her breath, she looked between her and Jinwoo to see what she was feeling inside her.

"Oh my God," she puffed, "I can't... believe... you're all the way... inside me."

But it was true. Looking between them, Eunchae realized that they'd crossed the final line. She was having sex with her brother and there was nothing anybody could do or say about it. She had wanted this so bad, and finally it had happened. A smile broke through the grimace that had been there as she tried hard to relax with Jinwoo's entire length inside her.

"You're not a virgin anymore," Jinwoo told her, marveling at his little sister's beauty and the feeling of having her untouched little tunnel enveloping his cock in their forbidden bout of incest.

"Neither are you." She said back, biting her lip.

Jinwoo leaned in to kiss her, and Eunchae could feel that her body was finally adjusting to having her big brother's cock buried all the way in her pussy.

"You haven't....unhh... exactly fucked me yet though," Eunchae teased. "I think I'm ready for you to try, if you go slowly."

Eunchae wanted to watch. She let Jinwoo slowly withdraw from her, whining as her pussy collapsed behind his retreating tip. When he was almost all the way out, Eunchae looked her brother in the eye and cried out as he started back into her.

"Oh fufufuckkkkk..." her eyes darted back down again, seeing her tight abdomen bulge along the path of her brother's entry. "Jinwooo..." she cried.

Jinwoo was in some alternate universe, one where he was having sex with his little sister, losing his virginity to her and taking hers in the process. Her pussy was so incredibly youthful and tight that even with the condom on, Jinwoo worried that he wouldn't last long. His little sister's voice brought him to as his hips connected with hers again.

"Oh God... do it again." she begged him.

Obliging her, Jinwoo withdrew steadily and pushed back inside his baby sister faster. She was so aroused that her wetness was all over the condom, all over the junction where his cock was securely inserted inside her.

Eunchae moaned again when he bottomed out, feeling less pain each time he did so. Her eyes begged him to continue, and Jinwoo wouldn't have been able to stop if he tried.

"Ohfuck...ohmygod... keep fucking me..." she cooed.

One stroke at a time, Jinwoo picked up speed. He had to grab a hold of his little sister's hips to keep her in place while he slid his hardness in and out of her again and again.

"God you're tight Eunchae... oooouphhh," he praised her.

They kept at it, their first sex position, ever and together, while both Eunchae and her brother felt their bodies overwhelmed by the sensations of fucking each other. She watched the look of concentration on her brother's face, the way his abs rippled when he pressed forward and prodded her deep inside. Each time he pulled out, she felt as if there would be no way he could fit in her pussy by looking at him, and each time he proved her wrong.

"Fuck me Jinwoo.... mnnnhhhh... it's okay, you can fuck me harder...." she breathed.

Her brother was ready, motivated by the sweet words and the sweeter sounds coming from his gorgeous little sister. Each time he thudded softly against her, Eunchae's tits shook before returning to their gravity-defying, perfect shape and then again as he fucked her. She was so tight... so impossibly tight... he wasn't going to last much longer.

Fortunately, the second Jinwoo's fingers gripped that sensitive soft spot on her naked hips to brace himself, Eunchae felt a sensation she simply could not ignore. It started as a gentle pressure, that didn't go away each time she felt her brother's penis slide from within her. When he filled her again, she felt it get stronger, more immediate.

"OhJinwoo...you feel so good...so fucking big..." she moaned, "do you like ...mnnnnuuhh... fucking your little sister?"

He did his best to respond to her, nodding with an "uh huh," while Eunchae wrapped her bare feet around her brother and pulled at him with her soft, tiny soles.

"Fuck.... Jinwoo...I think I'm gonna... oh god...."

The feeling that had started a moment ago was spreading, it was in her legs, in her chest, and when she tried to keep watching where her big brother's shaft was sliding in and out of her previously virgin opening, Eunchae found the sensation clouding her mind.

Jinwoo pulled all the way out to the tip and thrust back into her. "Ouhhhhhh..." his teenage sister cried.

"Ohgod.... if you keep...mnhhhh... doing that..."

"It's okay Eunchae... come for me..." Jinwoo urged her, shaking her little body again and again.

He was getting close himself, but seeing and hearing his adorable sister falling deeper into the clutches of an orgasm was the only thing Jinwoo wanted in that moment, well... that and to keep spreading her taut pussy and pushing deep into her over and over.

"Mnnnhhhh..... mnhhhh.... uhhhhhHHHH..."

Eunchae grabbed for her brother's hands which were securely gripping her hips. She squeezed tight. The feeling welling up inside her was becoming too much to hold off. If Jinwoo would stop his relentless penetration, she might be able to stop it... but he didn't. Jinwoo impaled his little sister again, and saw a final look of desperation in her eyes when his cock pushed her over the edge.

Eunchae screamed, part gasp and part high-pitched whine. The sound filled the cavernous space and rang in her big brother's ears. It would stay with him much longer still - when Jinwoo remembered that wonderful moment long after.

Her back arched, thrusting her breasts outward. Her abdomen tensed, rippling with her brother inside her. Eunchae had never felt so much passion and sensation despite all the fun she'd had with her brothers up to that point. The intensity was astounding; her whole body shuddered at the impact of her orgasm. To Jinwoo, she had never looked more beautiful.

The teen's quivering tunnel squeezed repeatedly upon her brother's buried rod while she came. It even flooded with further wetness and warmth, coating his protected member. Had he continued thrusting, Jinwoo may have been able to climax with her, but her legs were locked around him; she wouldn't have been able to take it. Instead he remained lodged as deeply inside her as was possible watching his baby sis cum while being fucked for the first time.

It could have been only seconds, maybe a minute, but to Eunchae it felt like an hour that her body and mind were paralyzed by the orgasm. Eventually she loosened up, and opened her eyes to see Jinwoo watching her lovingly. She felt embarrassed to have been so helpless, but he reassured her.

"God you're beautiful," he told her. "You doing alright?"

Eunchae nodded and mustered, "Uh huh" wiping beneath her eye where a tear had mixed with the sweat of her exertion.

She laid back with her hands over her head, sprawled out and exhausted from what her brother had just done to her. Eventually a smile formed on her face.

"What?" Jinwoo asked, seeing it.

"Nothing," Eunchae said, looking up at him again, "That was just.. really amazing.... you were amazing."

Jinwoo swelled with pride. His brother had told him not to expect to be any good his first time, nor to be able to make his partner orgasm. It seemed he had done both with his little sister; he'd be sure to let Jae know that later.

Eunchae hadn't forgotten that her big brother was still snugly inserted into her, and she badly wanted to repay the orgasm he'd literally thrust upon her.

She wiggled her hips and worked an inch in and out of her sensitive pussy to show him. Jinwoo groaned, astounded by how sexy it was when she moved that way.

Eunchae did it again, seeing the look of enjoyment on his face. She didn't want to admit it, because she hadn't made him cum yet, but her pussy was truly sore from losing her virginity. She did her best, and Jinwoo added to the motion by sliding a few inches in and out of her.

"Ohhh Jinwoo... uhhh...." she taunted, wincing with the sensitivity "I can't believe we did that... oh my God I just lost my virginity to my BROTHER!"

Jinwoo groaned. He had been closer than he thought. All the beauty of watching the youthful brunette cum for him had done little to slow his own orgasm, and each little shift she made was stimulating him further.

Seeing it in the way Jinwoo rolled her head back, Eunchae thought of something. "You could keep fucking me until you cum, if you want. Or..." she teased him, "you could cum in my mouth."

Jinwoo's eyes opened wide. He obviously liked the idea, and from the way Eunchae was biting her lip naughtily, she did too.

He pushed his cock into her one more time, almost cumming right then and there. When he withdrew, Eunchae whimpered, feeling empty without Jinwoo inside her. The adorable teen quickly got down on her knees in the sand and rolled the condom off Jinwoo's huge member, amazed again that she could ever have fit it inside her. She put both hands on him the way Jae had taught her, immediately jerking him while sitting up tall. She took his head into her mouth; there was no need to go slow this time, Jinwoo was ready to cum. After sucking on as much as she could fit in her mouth, only a few inches, she popped him out.

"Come on Jinwoo, cum for your little sis...mnhh... I want it in my mouth."

Jinwoo groaned and looked down at her glistening little body, kneeling before him with her breasts perked up and eyes begging him.

"I've never had anyone cum in my mouth. You already fucked me first; do you want to cum in your sister's mouth first too?"

That was it. His little tease of a sister toppled him. Eunchae watched Jinwoo's body tense and felt his cock swell in her hands. She got there just in time.

A huge squirt of cum came from his tip, right into her open mouth. Some of it got on her lip and chin, she could feel its warmth there, but she kept her lips open for more, pumping Jinwoo again.

She was awarded with another jet, and this time she didn't miss a drop. The excited little brunette could taste him as another rope of sperm coated her tongue. It was a little salty, but kinda sweet too; Eunchae liked it. The fact that it was her brother's spunk squirting into her mouth probably made it taste even better.

She kept jerking him, putting her lips right around Jinwoo's cockhead and sucking gently as he came. Her pretty eyes gazed up at him, hoping desperately she was doing a good job. The way she could feel him throbbing perceptively in her hands told her she probably was.

When she could take no more sperm in her mouth, Eunchae pulled back and let whatever her brother had left spurt out onto her. A few more strokes brought small splatters of cum atop her waiting breasts.

Eunchae remembered how Jae had pulled her hands off him when she touched his tip as he finished cumming on her. Instead, she held her hands still at the base of his cock, watching Jinwoo finally start to relax.

Holding him still, Eunchae showed her brother how much he'd squirted into her mouth before closing her lips and swallowing it all. Jinwoo was speechless.

As he looked down at her, Jinwoo felt certain he'd never be so passionate about anyone or anything again. He'd just lost his virginity to his little sister, taken hers as well, and there she was, beautiful as ever, naked and a bit of a mess.

It actually took Eunchae another swallow before she was sure she'd gotten all of her brother's cum. His knees were weak; so Jinwoo opted to collapse to the nearby towel and pull his little sister on top of him. The two of them lay in a heap, feeling each other breathe.

Eunchae positioned herself so she was straddling her brother as she lay atop him, his cock trapped between them. 'Of course he's still hard,' she thought, amused. Eunchae felt perfectly at peace, albeit a little worn out, with her head lain on his chest.

After a while, she propped her chin up and smiled at her brother. As always, Jinwoo's heart jumped. The thought that Eunchae might be as happy as she looked was a great one.

"You sure cum a lot." Eunchae said at last.

Jinwoo laughed that was the first thing on her mind.

"What?" she defended, giggling.

"Nothing..." Jinwoo said, "I was just thinking that you might be the best little sister ever."

"Yep, I am!" Eunchae agreed, getting another laugh from her big brother.

The two of them lay with each other for a few more minutes before Eunchae suggested they get cleaned up and head back home. Neither of them really wanted to, but she was right. At some point, their mom and dad might start to wonder.

Thinking about Mom and Dad made Eunchae swoon over what she and her brothers had been up to. She couldn't even fathom what they would do if they found out, and yet the mischievous brunette was certain she didn't intend to stop. The feeling of Jinwoo inside her yet lingered, and it was technically supposed to be her older brother Jae. She couldn't very well stop now when she had yet to let Jae have his way with her. Not yet, she needed time to recover, but Eunchae had promised him and she was absolutely going keep her word.

The two siblings played with each other in the water and floated about; procrastinating their eventual return to the resort, where their nakedness was not really an option. At some point, Eunchae felt her brother's cock between her legs, hard as ever, as they embraced in the water. She couldn't ignore it yet again, so she pushed him onto his back near the edge of the water and knelt between his legs to appease him.

Jinwoo could only marvel and enjoy as Eunchae went, once again, about stroking him and doing her best to fit him into her mouth. She was getting better each time she tried, using her tongue all over his tip, shaft and balls. She massaged him and stroked him, bringing her brother to a surprisingly quick orgasm that she let spurt out all over her hands.

"Now go wash yourself off," she instructed him, sounding quite satisfied with herself. Jinwoo was laying back on the sand, exasperated, until she grabbed his shoulder and shoved him toward the water.

"Go you big horny boy, haven't you had enough yet?"

Jinwoo snatched her arm and pulled her toward him, "Never," he said, kissing her deeply for one last time while they were alone.

Eunchae was adorable, as always, on the way back, not being bashful about describing how her first time had felt, how big her brother was, or how hard she'd climaxed. Jinwoo thought her comment about how his cum tasted was particularly symbolic of this crazy change in both siblings' behavior. She asked him questions too, like how it felt inside her and if he was glad to share his first time with her. Talking about it with her made Jinwoo want to take her right back where they came from and experiment some more on each other.

Jae was sitting and watching a game on TV at the pool bar when he saw his siblings walking back from the beach. He didn't need to ask, Eunchae was practically glowing. The devil on his shoulder told him he'd made the biggest mistake of his life letting his little brother at her first, but the look of gratitude on Jinwoo's face as they approached helped. A kiss from Eunchae on the cheek and whisper in his ear to "remember her promise" was even better.

Jae handed his little sister a slip of paper that said she had a full spa workover and massage scheduled in about 30 minutes. As if it was possible, Eunchae beamed even brighter and hugged Jae so long he had to push her away.

"Thought you might like a spa date of your own," he told her, "you can thank Jinwoo too, he's paying for half."

Eunchae gave the younger of the two a hug and kiss as well, before scampering off to get ready for her appointment.

As was their ritual, Jae slid a beer down the bar for his brother.

They drank in silence for a moment, until Jae said, "So..."

"So I think I owe you one for what, like... life?" Jinwoo asked.

"That good huh?" Jae prompted.

"God...." Jinwoo said, quieting his voice as the bartender passed, "Better than I even imagined."

"Maybe that's because your imagination is a little limited in that department," Jae teased.

"Ha ha, fuck you." Jinwoo fired back, "But seriously....dude... how tiny she is... the way she sounded when I..."

"ALRIGHT!" Jae interrupted, "That part, I don't need to know about."

"You'll find out, she told me on the way back."

That was a bit of a relief to Jae, if only a bit.

"And we didn't get to have sex for very long, I didn't last..." Jinwoo said.

Jae laughed, talking about it made him start imagining things.

By the time he'd polished off his fourth... or maybe it was his fifth beer of the day, and Jinwoo ordered them two more, Jae felt a little better. He'd done the right thing, he was just incredibly eager to have his turn with the little brunette who was by now stripping down at the spa.

As it turned out, he'd not get the chance that night. For one, by the time the whole family was together again, their parents seemed to be right around the corner at all times. And two, though the youthful teen was feeling amazing after her spa appointment, she desperately needed time to recuperate after her first time with Jinwoo.

Still, Eunchae wore this incredible, fire-engine red spaghetti strap top with jean shorts. Her brothers were beginning to wonder if she owned a single top that covered her flat little abdomen, but each time they saw it, they were grateful she didn't.

Jinwoo risked running his hand across his little sister's abdomen as they passed each other on the way to and from the bathroom later that night. She was pretty sure nobody in the restaurant had seen them, but Eunchae was, admittedly, a little nervous about his unexpected display of affection.

Everybody had been drinking throughout the night, but Jae's beers earlier in the day must've carried over. Only Jinwoo and Eunchae knew what his reason for over-indulgence had been, and they didn't really blame him given how much fun he'd missed out on. Eunchae probably shouldn't have teased him by flashing him seductive looks and lip-bites across the table when their parents weren't looking; which is probably what bought her a much more dangerous display of affection by Jae than Jinwoo's.

When Eunchae was ordering drinks at the bar later that night, waiting for her family to meander over after changing into their swimsuits for a late-night dip, she felt a warm body sidle up behind her. It had to be Jae; the whole approach-from-behind move was kinda his thing by now. And for a moment, Eunchae didn't realize how risky it really was. For a moment, she let her brother's hands grip her waist over a wispy cover-up shirt. She let him place his head in the nape of her neck and breathe her in while she waited for her drink.

Hearing voices somewhere nearby, Eunchae quickly pushed her brother off her and gave him an admonishing glare.

"DAN!" she said in a hushed tone, "you can't do that."

"I know, I know," he replied, "even though you totally liked it."

Eunchae refused to agree with him aloud, but the way she squinted at him said that he wasn't wrong. Jae ordered three shots of tequila and limes, one of which Jinwoo took hold of a moment later when he arrived. All three siblings looked knowingly at each other before tilting their heads back and swallowing the intense liquid. Their younger sister looked positively adorable as she puckered her face after biting the lime.

But that was the last of it, the last they got that evening to even acknowledge that something was completely different between them, something their parents would surely bring them home in an instant for. Eunchae felt like she was basking in the emotion of it all as she sipped a beer amongst her family while wading in the water. It was naughty, it was exhilarating, and knowing the secret that nobody but her, Jinwoo and Jae shared caused her heart to flutter each time she made eye contact with them. This would surely be the most memorable vacation of her life.

Eunchae wanted to look longingly at her brother, Jae, but when she glanced over at him when the sun had long since disappeared in the horizon, it seemed that Jae had gone with it. He was swaying in the pool, and when her father saw it, he insisted that Eunchae and Jinwoo assist him to bed at once.

"We'll reconvene tomorrow morning," said their father, "I for one, could use an entire day with my book down on the beach."

"And a big breakfast," added Jinwoo.

"No surprise there," blurted Jae. Eunchae couldn't contain her giggling. Drunk or not, her brother could always make her laugh.

Their parents decided to stay a bit longer in the hot tub, so Jinwoo and Eunchae scooped their brother up and each took an arm. He tried to fight them off, but quickly changed his mind, deciding that he could use their help to balance.

"Guyyyss.. I'm fine." he drew out.

"I know you are," Jinwoo agreed, smiling at his little sister who was struggling to support her older brother, "we're just lending a hand."

Jae looked exaggeratedly over his shoulder to see his younger brother's hand reaching across to Eunchae's side. "Yeahhh, I can sss.see that," he retorted, still sharp despite the boozy haze.

It took some effort to get Jae back to the room, but nothing unmanageable for the two younger siblings. And despite all Jae's hemming and hawing about how he wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, and he needed another beer, less than a minute after they plopped him on the bed, Jae's snores filled the room. Eunchae didn't even need to be quiet shutting the door behind her, for the oldest of the three was truly down for the count.

Eunchae and her brother sat close to each other on the couch after that. Once a few jokes about their brother were out of the way, a heavy silence ensued. After too many seconds of meaningful eye contact, they locked lips lovingly. Eunchae perked up on her knees and leaned into her brother, kissing him with intent and gratitude for the gift he'd given her earlier that day. Jinwoo's sentiments were the same, and he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

When they broke, the smile on Eunchae's face was so big; Jinwoo thought his heart would stop.

"What?" Jinwoo asked, wondering what could make her smile like that.

"Nothing..." she responded, touching her lips as if to make sure the kiss had been real, "It's just... you two. I never thought we could be like this, but I'm so glad."

Jinwoo smiled back, "believe me when I say, I totally know what you mean."

They chatted for almost an hour before Eunchae left her brother with one more lasting kiss. He would have gladly followed her to bed, but knew not to push his luck, so he settled for the image of her glancing over her shoulder at him just before disappearing into her bedroom.

"Love you Jinwoo," were the words that seemed to ring in his head as he dozed off to sleep.

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