Work Text:
Bruno could not reciprocate.
It had been weeks since Mirabel had confessed that she loved him, that she’d been crushing on him. He regretted telling her the truth, that he didn’t feel the same and never could. She was heartbroken, and ran from him in tears.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but what choice did he have? He’d known her her entire life. He’d looked after her when the rest of the family wouldn’t. He’d played games with her and his nephew, Camilo. Her ever maturing body and womanly curves didn’t stop him from seeing the tiny girl he used to give piggyback rides and tell stories.
Even if he did feel the same way, he’d still have said, ‘No.” She was only sixteen, still a kid. He was three times her age. Not to mention he was her uncle. Returning her advances would have been all kinds of wrong.
Now she wouldn’t speak to him and it broke his heart. Before this, they had been close. The two of them had a lot in common, since they were both the black sheep of the family. He understood her and she understood him like no one else did, and her absence ate away at his very soul.
He’d made some attempts to talk to her. He’d speak to her as they passed in the halls, or ask her questions during dinner. Usually she'd ignore him. When she didn’t, she’d only give simple, one-word answers. Everyone in the family knew there was something wrong, but he feigned ignorance when they asked him. There was no way he could tell anyone about this. Mirabel would be furious and, besides, would they even believe him?
They tried asking her, too, but she was evasive. No one in the family could help him, even though he was desperate for advice. What is an uncle supposed to do when his niece is crushing on him? He was no stranger to rejection, but Mirabel's hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. He couldn't sleep, could barely eat, and he sobbed into his pillow at night. He'd do anything to regain her approval. Maybe, even–
“Tío Bruno! Tío Bruno, over here!”
He had just emerged from the staircase leading to his room when he heard Mirabel’s melodious voice. She was standing near her room, on the other side of the house. She sounded cheerful, much more like her old self and he smiled.
“Mirabel!” He gave her a timid wave. “Um–hi!”
She beamed at him, her hands clasped in front of her as she rocked back and forth on her heels.
“Come over here! I have something I want to show you!”
He was so happy to have her speak to him again that he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t run, but he sped towards her, and she wrapped him up in a tight hug the minute he was close.
“You’re not mad at me?” he whispered to her as he held her.
She gave a brief laugh. “Mad?” She released him from the hug, though she still held onto his waist. “Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be?”
Had she forgotten? He wasn’t sure, but he had no intention of reminding her so he just grinned.
“So, what was this thing you wanted to show me?”
Opening the door to her room, she beckoned him to go first. He obliged, barely noticing as she shut and locked the door behind her.
She wasn’t sleeping in the nursery anymore. Her new room was right next door and still looked very similar. The walls were covered in green wallpaper with a butterfly pattern, colorful art hanging everywhere. There was a sewing machine to the right, and a wire-framed bed next to it near the window. The other side had an entire wall of thread, fabric, and patterns.
He didn’t notice anything different from how it had always looked.
“It’s over by the bed,” she said, sliding up behind him. She was so close that he could feel her brush against his ruana, and the heat emanating from her body. It felt awkward and intrusive, but he didn’t say anything.
He approached her bed, examining it. It had a filigree design on the head and footboard, and the bed was neatly made with maroon covers and laced pillows. Once again he failed to see what was interesting.
“What am I looking for, Mir–” He stopped as he felt her arms wrap around him from behind, under his ruana, in another hug. There was something unsettling about the way she was hugging him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was just an innocent hug.
“Mirabel? Is everything okay?”
“Mm’hmm,” she sighed into his back. "Everything is just right."
Her hands didn't stay where they should. Before he could comprehend what was happening, they had wandered down to his waist, and fiddled with the top button of his pants. He wanted to stop her, to grab her hand and question her, but he couldn’t. It was as if he’d been paralyzed, frozen in place. There was no magic involved, Mirabel had no magic, but his own mind snapped and he was helpless.
She’d released the top button and was moving down to the next one under his fly. Her hands brushed up against his dick, through the fabric, and it made his breath hitch.
“S–stop–,” he managed to gasp out, but she ignored him. Pretty soon she had every button undone and her hand reached into his boxers through the gap in the front. His head swam as her tiny hands wrapped around his flaccid cock, giving it a gentle, teasing squeeze.
“You’re so tense,” Mirabel whispered in his ear from behind. She used her spare hand to pull his long, black curls away and kiss his neck. “Just relax, tío. I can help you. I can make you feel good.”
He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut as she pulled his cock out of his pants and began to stroke him. Her hands were soft and warm and, against his will, he grew hard in her grasp. Her kisses ran up the side of his neck, nibbling at his ear, as her firm grip slowly ran up and down his cock.
“I knew you wanted this, wanted me,” she whispered as she flicked his earlobe with her tongue. “You were just afraid, weren’t you?”
Her movements grew faster as his body continued to betray him. He didn’t want it to feel good, but it did. It felt so good and so wrong.
“You don’t have to be afraid. No one will ever know.”
His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath came out in pants, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything.
“This can be our little secret.”
He was as stiff as could be now as her hand stroked him relentlessly.
“Should I make you come this way,” she whispered. “I could.” Pulling his cock up while still stroking him at a relentless pace, she reached inside the gap with her other hand and cupped his balls, rolling them in her hand.
A sound that was somewhere between a moan and a whimper escaped his lips. His head was swimming, and he wanted to pull away, but he found himself leaning into her instead. This was wrong! If anyone caught them, they’d blame him. He needed to stop this, but somehow it felt like he’d gone beyond the point of no return. Could he maybe, just maybe, just lean back and enjoy it? Just this once.
Before he could decide, her hands stopped and she released him. He let out a whimper, but he couldn’t tell if it was from relief or protest.
“I want to feel good, too, Tío Bruno,” she whispered to him, as her hands moved to his waistband and pushed his pants down. “Will you make me feel good, too?”
He needed to say no, but he couldn’t. He just nodded his head dumbly as she pushed his pants and boxers down, all the way to the floor, helping him step out of them. His ruana and shirt were next, until he was standing completely naked before her, his cock standing straight, throbbing and twitching.
“Get on the bed,” she ordered, reaching around him to pat the mattress. He obeyed, as if his mind and body were no longer his own. Laying face down, he grasped the pillow in his arms.
His body began to tremble, but not from the cold. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he stop this? His mind was racing and tears were coming to his eyes, but he didn’t cry.
“Turn over, silly,” she giggled, nudging his side as she crawled into the small bed with him. He obeyed, rolling over on his back, and she wasted no time straddling his waist. At some point, Mirabel had also stripped off all of her clothes and she was sitting naked on top of him. His eyes wandered to her small, perky breasts, the nipples taunt and hard. The curve of her waist, her soft belly, the trail of dark curls leading to her center.
She leaned forward, kissing him full on the mouth, the points of her nipples scraping against his chest. His hands reached up, grabbing her arms, fully intending to push her away, but he didn’t. ‘Stop!’ he screamed in his own mind, both at her and himself. Neither obeyed him.
He was thin, but he was still physically stronger than her. He was more than capable of stopping her, pushing her off of him and fleeing the room, but for some reason he didn’t. Couldn’t. He was at her mercy.
Her tongue invaded his mouth, pressing against his, and he choked and gagged in response. It did nothing to stop her assault, and he went limp there, too, letting her do whatever she wanted.
She broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva between them as she stared down at him with lustful eyes. Was he returning the same gaze? He couldn’t tell anymore, but she seemed very pleased with what she saw.
Was this even the same Mirabel? His mind was betraying him just as much as his body. It looked like her, sounded like her, but her actions were confusing and arousing and horrible and fun and wrong. She was still the little girl he loved but she was also a siren, luring him into the depths of sin to drown.
She straightened, lifting her ass off of him just enough to reach between her legs and grab his cock. ‘No!’ his mind screamed, but his voice remained silent and immobilized. Maybe part of him always wanted this. A small part, he would have thought, except that it was winning. It wasn’t long before she had guided him to her hot, wet entrance and slowly, torturously, she lowered herself down on him.
“Mmm, you feel so good Tío,” her voice was breathy, and he felt her walls deliberately squeeze around him. He gasped and moaned, despite himself. She was so hot, wet, and tight, and he was no longer protesting.
Her body moved, back and forth, back and forth, each movement bringing a new wave of abhorrent bliss. He’d surrendered at this point, no longer caring about how wrong this was, no longer dissenting. It had been so long, it felt so good, so he let himself become awash in the pleasures of her body.
She leaned back, her hips still moving, as she reached a hand down to stroke her clit. She moaned as she touched her sensitive spot, and her body clenched around him. He knew he wasn’t going to last long.
“Mirabel,” he grunted. “I’m–I’m going to–”
“Yes!” she panted, her fingers working frantically on herself. “Do it! Do it!”
He obeyed, a low, guttural noise escaping his throat as his body trembled and he came inside her hot pussy.
She kept going though, even after he finished. Squeezing so tightly around him it hurt, she somehow kept him hard, rubbing her clit with her hand as she zealously rode him. He was too sensitive now and he groaned in distress, but she didn’t stop. She refused to release him. When he’d start to soften she’d just squeeze him tighter and move faster. She just kept moving against him, and he gritted his teeth, trying his best to bear it until she finally had her own release. She cried out so loudly he was afraid the rest of the family would hear. Her body shook and she crushed his dick to the point that his eyes watered.
When she was done, she fell on top of him, breathing heavily and letting her head fall into the crook of his neck. He didn’t move. With the exception of his breathing he was completely still. Now that it was over and his body relinquished its control, all he could feel was numb. There was no emotion, no sensation left in him. He just lay there dumbly, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
“That was amazing,” Mirabel squealed, lifting herself up enough to kiss him on the mouth. She was smiling down at him, so close he could see every individual eyelash. “God, you’re amazing. I knew you loved me! I knew it! I just knew it!”
She kissed him again before pushing herself off to lay by his side. Maybe she was right. Maybe he really did love her that way. That’s the only way he could explain how he’d responded to her. He wanted it. Wanted her. This whole time. It was wrong, but he didn’t care anymore.
He twisted his head, and found her laying next to him on her side, beaming at him. It was the happiest he’d ever seen her. Did he do that? He smiled back. Yes, and he’d gladly make her happy again.
He reached an arm out to her and she didn’t hesitate to scoot over to him, putting her head on his bare chest and wrapping her arms around him. He held her close, stroking her hair. It was risky to love her this way. If the family found out, they’d be furious with him. But if this is what it took to win her back, so be it.
Anything to keep from losing her love again.
~Sacrifice is you setting yourself on fire to keep others warm.~