#never using “one-click buy” again

[gravityglitch-blog]

I really hate to make a post like this, but I feel others should be aware before buying the novelization for Sonic Movie 3.

Since forever, I have been that little geek who scooped up the novelization of whatever movie I was excited over; it's a time-honored tradition.

It's also the first time I've ever encountered this

The story is incomplete! What I'd call the entire third act just isn't there!

As you can see, this is from the Kindle edition.

I don't know if the print edition is any different.

But if you're like me and collect movie novelizations, I thought I'd give a heads-up and maybe save you a little time and money.

[yvilonion]

SNOWCROW UNI AU DUMP!!

all of these are reposts from my twitter, and some never seen before doodles :p ive got so many brain rot for this au but i dont have the time to draw them with me being a uni student myself, so i'll use this as an outlet to yap

ofc yes snowcrow are roomies duhhhh. the other boys are included as well but its primarily focused on snowcrow. both of them are nerds, sy just doesnt fit in the stereotype appearance wise. he also rarely leaves his room (bc hes in IT) so hes mostly wearing nothing but his optimus prime boxers. zayne has 5 outfits maximum and repeats the same ones depending on the day, and its either a collared button up shirt or a hoodie. all his pants are identical except for one pair of jeans he wears for special occasions aka going to the mall

in this au, zayne's autism shines more. he's more clumsy and awkward and doesnt get social cue. naive at some times, ESPECIALLY when it comes to ppl tryna hit on him. sy is less macho suave here, chillaxed in a teen core way and an idrgaf attitude. much more of a loser too. and more immature (in comparison to his canon self)

their dorm room: a disaster. its a 2 pax room so both their beds are singles across from each other. only two weeks into the semester sy's space is already full of his stuff to the point he cant even sleep on his bed. robot stuff from his club, personal collection of trinkets and other stuff he COULD throw out but doesnt want to bc he's a hoarder. so now he either sleeps on the floor or on zayne's bed. usually on zayne's bed when he's out for class during day time since his own classes are at night. zayne didnt mind but it meant sy owes him so sy buys him a lot of stuff especially sweet treats and mixue. he also has to drive him everywhere on his motorcycle. "i wanna go to that dessert shop" "you mean the one thats deep in the city full of traffic and hidden in between the alleyways where u have to go through the 7 layers of hell for parking?" "yes" "..................kay."

pets!! sy had mephisto even before entering uni. then later adopted a bearded dragon named bartholomew, mew or bartie for short. zayne took in a stray black cat from the streets. cats rarely like him so when this one didnt run away, immediate adoption. claudius galenus is his name after a greek philosopher, galen for short. obv sy made fun of his name choices, but then again he named a bird after the devil and a reptile "bartholomew". theyre both idiots. sy also enjoys finding random geckos or lizards, and frogs, and snakes. he'd probably own a scarab too. but zayne never allowed those bc galen is a gluttonous hell spawn and eats everything. at one point he started chewing on sy's mattress. no, pets are not allowed in dorms. they got off with a warning the first time. so every time theres even a hint of a spontaneous dorm check, sy asks his mom to babysit their kids. his mom being the sweetheart she is helped them out, though she wondered if her son will ever grow up and be at least acceptable in a professional setting bc she cant imagine him having a corporate career with the way he is now.

money. zayne has a scholarship and during their dorm year, it was easy to live on. he didnt have many assignments that needed money to be spent on, and he was never the shopping type, for clothes or other stuff he cant eat anyways. but ever since they moved out to rent an apartment, money got tighter. sure both his parents are doctors and has no problem giving him extra pocket money, but he prefers to not burden them. so he now he part times at a vet as the clerk! easy click clacking on the monitor job and he gets to meet cute animals. sylus doesnt have a scholar but he's applying for one. in the meantime he gets his money from a website he runs. what website? no one knows. is it legal? most likely no. zayne assumed the site is just an illegal movie streaming platform with how sylus always invites him to watch a new movie on his laptop seconds after its release. but he could be running more than one.

neither of them have that of an exciting social life. theyre either nerding out in their room, or taking a mindless stroll to reconnect with nature. sylus collecting rocks and yapping about the history (or drama) of the british royal family and explaining how the monarchy works, zayne identifying different types of clouds and pulling out candy from his pockets every 10 minutes (they never seem to run out). though at one point, sylus knew how important this stage of their life is. theyre not gonna be young forever and they needed friends, people to socialize with and make connections, mingle with people their age. zayne didnt mind having sy as his only friend, but he did think it would be nice to have a small clique. also the networking thing is important too. so whenever theres an event or festival, they'd always go out with intentions to meet people. it was NOT easy. 1. they dont know how to start a conversation without being too pushy or awkward. 2. they both have resting bitch faces and above 6 ft which makes them seem intimidating. 3. even if they did manage to chat with someone, they would quickly realize how different they were from them. most people who join these social events have **been** social, already in big group of friends that go out partying, clubbing, drinking yadda yadda. not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just a very unfamiliar territory for these two nerds who rarely (or during this point, never) let themselves touch alcohol, couped up in their room with a pigeon, a lizard and whatever the hell galen is, watching pirated movies while wearing matching rocky and bullwinkle socks. so after every attempt at making friends, they'd always walk back to their dorm, just the two of them.

are they dating? no. not yet at least. but do they like each other romantically? maybe. i can vouch for sy tho. the first time he saw zayne he was already smitten by how handsome he was. handsome, but not well put together. baggy clothes, his glasses were slightly crooked, looks like he doesnt know what hair gel is. he didnt know if he was even attracted to men, he did know zayne was the most interesting person he's ever met so far. he brushed it off, thinking its just simple admiration. even if it was a crush, it wasnt a big deal. tho as their friendship grew, he got bolder, casually flirting with him from time to time, just because. zayne being the dumbass he is caught none of it. if sy ever reached out to hold his hand, he's like "oh yeah cool bestie activities" or if he gives a quick peck on the cheek before leaving for class "he must be in a good mood haha" or if he stares longingly while zayne yaps about the history of styrofoams, scooching closer, leaning a bit too close, trying to memorize every detail of zayne's face as if he recognized him from a different life, one where theyre both soul bound, sharing the same last name, melting into each other every night "oh wow he's a really good listener".

yk maybe they are dating. zayne just didnt know about it until it was too late.

that's all i have for now!! sem break is right around the corner so i'll expand this au then :)) pray for me final assessment is biting me in the ass im an animation student and i regret everything

[mwphisto]

It was an accident, you swear it was just a misclick.

Two texts that came in at the same time, one from your group chat with Tara and Simone, the other from Caleb. What you thought was being sent to your girls got sent to Caleb instead...

"What do you think of this?" A picture of you standing in your full length mirror, your bedroom dimly lit, a scandalous little black nightgown hanging off of your body. You never treated yourself like this, never felt the need to buy such short, silky nightgowns covered in frilly lace and a sleek satin shine. But Tara had convinced you.

Something about having a nice figure, just in case of an emergency, and that you'd look soooo hot in such an item. Hell, she even offered to pay for it, hand picking the little thing herself and well... now you owned it and now your face was red-hot as you stared at yourself.

“Holy shit, Pips.” You glance down at your phone, brows furrowing at the use of that nickname. Why in the world would Tara… oh. Oh no. Your mouth dropped open, realizing your fatal mistake way too late.

“Caleb! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Rapid fire, your hands trembling as you sent message after message. “I didn’t mean to send that to you! I was just trying it on, my friends convinced me to buy the damn thing!” You fell onto your bed, staring at your phone in genuine horror. Luckily, it was just Caleb. No one else. But still.

"No need to apologize, Pips." the text bubble popped up again a moment later. "You look gorgeous, good thing you listened to them." Now? Your face was hot for a different reason. "These friends are also girls, right? Don't tell me you're sending this to other men..."

"Of course they're girls! Who do you think I am lol." You swallow, fingers still shaking as you typed another message. "I appreciate the compliments but I really am sorry for the jump scare. Just delete the picture from our chat, forget you ever saw it."

Delete it? Forget? You've lost your mind. Still... "No worries, pips."

Caleb clicks the image again, cheeks flushed and pants uncomfortably tight. It's like he's looking at a real life goddess. He's zooming in shamelessly, committing every dip and curve to his memory. The way the lace hugs your breasts, the thin straps revealing you're not wearing bra at all. The nightgown itself ends just below the apex of your thighs. One little movement and...

"You're going to ruin me, pipsqueak." Caleb's fingers are undoing his zipper, eyes still glued to every pixel that makes up your dips and curves on his phone screen. "I should feel guilty, shouldn't I?" His voice is bouncing back at him, you had disappeared from the chat, likely sending your friends the picture that was intended for them.

He's freeing himself from his briefs, yanking open his bedside drawer to pull out one of the pairs of panties he had snatched from your apartment the last time he visited Linkon.

"Such a pervert, can't help it."

[fishyartist]

(Adding an extra image, Source+more info about this specific chart https://bdsmovement.net/Act-Now-Against-These-Companies-Profiting-From-Genocide <click that)

McDonald's is giving out free fries.

Disney is giving out Disney100 cards.

Starbucks is giving out buy one get one frees.

Why? Because their stock prices are falling.

They are losing money because of the boycotts because we are not giving them more money to fund and support the genocide of Palestine.

They're scared.

So they're gonna do whatever they can to get that money.

Keep it up.

Make them cry.

We may not be able to get them all, but the ones we get oh they are gonna suffer.

[sameergaza]

To all my comrades and friends who have stood by me—

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for everything you’ve done. I have never forgotten your support 🫶🏻

Today, I’m writing to you while my family and I are living through one of the hardest phases of this war.

It’s been over 600 days—and these recent days are the most brutal we’ve faced. We are suffering from extreme hunger. Our bodies are exhausted. We can barely walk due to lack of food.

On top of that, there’s constant bombing, killing, displacement, and fear. Every minute, people are being injured or killed.

To be very direct:

All the crossings have been closed for over three months.

Everyone here knows: food supplies in Gaza have run out.

People are starving. Some are fighting each other out of hunger.

The occupation set up so-called “humanitarian aid centers”—but placed them in dangerous combat zones in Rafah, far in the south.

We live in northern Gaza. No aid reaches us. They tell us:

“If you want food, go south. Go to those centers.”

But how can we? It’s death waiting there.

We asked people who tried. We were desperate. My father told me,

“We have nothing left to eat. Your little sister can’t bear the hunger anymore.”

So I made a painful decision.

A friend and I went south—hoping to bring something back.

We spent the night in the streets, waiting. In the morning, they said aid was coming. I was so hopeful—just to bring back one loaf of bread, a grain of lentil, anything at all.

And then the horror began.

As we approached, the Israeli tanks started firing directly at us.

It felt like the end of the world.

People were killed in cold blood—while they were hungry.

We tried to escape, we were surrounded. I even filmed a short video of us running, trying to survive. You can hear the bullets flying above our heads.

I survived—barely.

But I came back empty-handed.

My family was waiting for me—hoping I’d bring just one thing to eat.

When they saw I had nothing, the disappointment on their faces broke me.

I cried. Not from fear. But from helplessness. I tried everything—and still failed.

Believe me, friends—right now, I don’t want anything from this world All I ask is to raise enough to buy a bag of flour. Just one.

So I can feed my family. So I can see them smile once—after all this sadness.

Right now, the price of one flour sack is $500.

That one sack can feed my family for a whole week.

Please… I need your help. I can’t go back to those deadly “distribution centers.”

I won’t risk death again.

Click here to find the campaign verification link

[himasgod]

idk if its okay

but can I request for the tapis rouge boyos (vil, azul, jamil, ace) with a reader who gets hit on by a well known celebrity who has a reputation for being a playboy.

thank youuu

ACE, JAMIL, AZUL AND VIL X READER

Where a famous playboy actor wants to flirt with you in Tapis Rouge

How would guys react if, at the Vil's Red Carpet Cadets event, a famous actor with dark intentions approached you to hit on you?

I put Zane as the default name, if there is a Zane reading this, don't be offended😭 You don't need to have played the event to read the one-shot, I hope you enjoy it <3

Maquillaville was packed with rich, famous people who—according to Ace—were annoyingly full of themselves. He wasn't really used to this kind of fancy event, but he played it off well with his cocky grin and bold style. In his own way, he looked great.

You were chatting with a few guests when someone Ace couldn't ignore walked in.

Model, actor, and even film director. He had that fake-perfect smile and a dating history that probably broke some kind of record. Tall, tanned, and smooth-talking, he zoned in on you like a predator the second he saw you.

"Sorry to interrupt," "Zane" said with a charming smirk, "but your smile is brighter than the lights in this place. How about I buy you a drink… or better yet, take you out to dinner tomorrow?"

Ace stopped chewing his fancy canapé. He turned his head slowly, like he'd just heard the funniest joke ever.

"A drink? Seriously? Bro, do you think you're in some rom-com?"

Zane blinked at him, confused. “And you are…?”

Ace slid in next to you, his hand on your hip, flashing his most smug smile, though his eyes were sharp.

"The boyfriend. The only one who can make them smile like that without copy-pasting lines from Google."

Zane chuckled. "Well, lucky you, man. No harm in a compliment—"

“Sure, sure,” Ace said, crossing his arms.

"But there's a difference between a compliment and drooling all over my partner. If you want attention that bad, try flirting with a mirror. Bet it'll respond better."

Zane rolled his eyes and walked off in annoyance.

Once he was out of sight, you turned to Ace, one eyebrow raised.

“Jealous?”

“Jealous?!” Ace spun toward you, visibly offended.

"That wasn't jealousy! That was common sense! The guy was talking like you were a character in some cheesy pickup scene! And you laughed at one of his jokes! Like—seriously!?"

You laughed.

“Oh, Ace…”

He clicked his tongue, but his grin gave him away. He leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Look, I don't care if you're the center of attention. Honestly, I love it. Let the whole world stare… just so they know exactly who you're with—"

His voice dropped to a murmur against your ear.

“—and who they’ll never be.”

Then he pulled back, smirking wider.

“And if that C-list actor tries flirting again, I swear I'm going to stuff his ego in a box and send it back with a bow.”

Jamil was at your side, impeccable. Although he tried to appear calm, he kept scanning every corner of the room… especially whoever looked at you for too long.

And then he saw it.

Internationally acclaimed actor and singer, known as much for his musical hits as for his romantic history. He was the kind of person who turned every interview into an opportunity to flirt and every gala into a hunt.

He approached you with that well-rehearsed smile of his, champagne glass in hand, his eyes shining with that invasive interest.

"I didn't know stars walked this red carpet," he said, scanning you from head to toe. "Do you have a date for after the event?"

Before you could answer, you felt Jamil's firm presence at your side. His smile was barely perceptible, and his dark eyes, fixed on him.

"I don't think you heard correctly," he said calmly. "They're with me."

Zane laughed sarcastically, never taking his eyes off you.

"Oh, I thought you were a stylish bodyguard. I didn't know you were the… boyfriend?"

Jamil took a step forward, placing himself completely between you and him, like a protective shadow.

"I'll tell you this only once. I don't know what kind of games you usually play with your 'conquests,' but if you want to keep your reputation from falling further, I suggest you back off now."

He raised an eyebrow, still defiant.

"And if I don't?"

Jamil smiled with disturbing slowness.

"Then I'll make you understand. And believe me, I know exactly how to do it without ruining your image… although I wouldn't mind that in the least."

There was a moment of tension. He, perhaps for the first time in a long time, felt insecure around someone. And he left.

You looked at Jamil, somewhat impressed.

"Are you always so calm when you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jamil sighed, taking your hand.

"I'm not jealous. I'm irritated. Because that guy dared to look at you like a trophy."

He turned to you, his expression softer.

"And you're not a trophy. You're someone I chose, and who chose me. I don't need to shout it… but I won't let anyone dare touch what I respect."

Every flashbulb seemed to follow you as you walked beside Vil, so perfect it outshone even the biggest stars. The whole world felt like a runway, and you, at his side, were part of the spectacle.

You were used to receiving stares, but this time you felt a particularly insistent one.

"Do you know him?"

Vil whispered near your ear, without taking his eyes off a certain famous actor who was approaching.

It was an international star known for his leading man roles… and for his many love scandals. Vil pursed his lips with the elegance of someone who knew perfectly well who this man was and how little he liked him.

"Only by sight…" you replied, a little uncomfortable as you noticed the actor coming straight toward you.

"Then don't stare at him so much." Vil murmured with a charming smile, but his eyes were sharp.

The actor arrived and, as if he had no idea who Vil was (which was impossible), offered you his hand.

"I didn't expect to see someone so charming tonight. Have we met? Because if not, I'd love to change that."

Vil took a subtle step, standing half in front of you. His face, still sporting a polite smile, was tense like a perfectly placed mask.

"Funny, I thought charm wasn't enough when it came to respect," he said, in that tone of his as polished as liquid poison.

"My partner doesn't usually fall for such cheap tricks, Mr. Zane."

The actor laughed, as if he didn't take the hint.

"A couple? What a shame… Although that's never been an obstacle in romantic movies," he joked, winking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Vil was quicker. He took your hand and entwined it with his, raising his chin

"This isn't a movie. And if you think you can turn my relationship into just another chapter in your "red carpet romances," you're sorely mistaken."

The actor seemed amused by the reaction, but seeing Vil's sharp gaze with pride, jealousy, and elegance, he simply raised his hands.

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so committed, Schoenheit. Lucky for you. And for you too."

He winked at you with a mischievous smile before walking away.

The air seemed to have cooled a couple of degrees.

Vil turned to you, still frowning slightly.

"I warn you, that man is like cheap perfume: strong at first, but in the end, only an unpleasant aftertaste."

"Are you jealous?" You asked with a soft smile.

Vil stared at you, then sighed, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in your attire.

"No. I'm forewarned. Because I value you. And I won't let someone like him touch you with even the hint of an intention."

He leaned in elegantly, his lips brushing the line of your jaw, just enough for you to feel it only for yourself.

"You're too precious to be trifled with. And if anyone tries… they'll have to face me."

The hair, his thin glasses, and that brown suit with subtle pinstripes gave him an air of sophistication that contrasted with his inner nerves whenever someone approached you.

You'd been walking through with him, just chatting, when a tall man with an easy smile and a foreign accent approached you.

"Are you the person everyone is whispering is stealing the event tonight? My name is Zane Duclair but you can call me Zane. Although I'd prefer it if you called me later."

He winked at you.

Azul blinked. He smiled, but his fingers trembled slightly as he gripped your hand.

"Zane Duclair… the actor with three public breakups and five harassment lawsuits… charming track record," he murmured.

Zane gave a carefree laugh, as if everything was slipping away.

"Oh, all in the past. Tonight I'm only interested in this beautiful person," he said, taking your hand without permission. "Would you do me the pleasure of dinner after the gala?"

Before you could respond, Azul placed a hand on your shoulder. His smile was still there, but his eyes were pure ice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your attempt at 'conquest,' Zane, but my companion already has plans with me tonight. And they're non-negotiable."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you? Their manager?"

Azul let out a short, almost mocking laugh.

"No, I'm a bit more complicated than that. I'm the person who knows their every taste, every gesture, every look. And also the person who can't stand it when someone with a questionable reputation tries to fish in waters that don't belong to him."

Zane looked offended, but Azul stepped forward, still keeping his voice polite.

"And if you insist, I can present you with a complete list of legal clauses regarding harassment and non-consensual advances. I'm sure your lawyers will be able to read between the lines."

Zane left, visibly irritated, and Azul took your arm to lead you away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't expect someone like him to approach me like that."

Azul shook his head.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault there are men who confuse charisma with entitlement. But if he approaches you again… I won't need contracts."

He glanced at you, lowering his voice.

"You are valuable. I will not allow anyone to see you as something they can buy or conquer. Because you are already… firmly committed to me."

[trivia-yandere]

thinking about…

baby daddy jeon jungkook, who started off as a friends with benefit situation and ended up with you being pregnant. to think that two grown adults knew what the other were getting into when it came to unprotected sex - and upon realizing that you were late for your period, you almost wished it was a (curable) std.

warning: shameless smut, friends with benefits to lovers, to exes to lovers again??, not yandere i was just bored loll

baby daddy jungkook, the man that fucked you so good that you blamed him fully for impregnating you. “you said you were going to get me pregnant!” you had screamed at him, storming into his home without a care in the world - you knew the code to unlock it anyways. you threw the positive test at his head with such hot eyes that jungkook was ready to bend you over right there if you’d let him. “it was just sex talk!” jungkook exclaimed, picking up the positive test and examining it. 

baby daddy jungkook, who told you - a month later - that he didn’t want you to terminate the pregnancy. you and he hadn’t talked much - mainly because you ignored his calls and messages. but this time he came to your apartment and refused to stop ringing your bell until you answered. “and before you bite my head off, it’s just my opinion. you have the final decision in the end…” 

baby daddy jungkook, who somehow had you bent over your couch, plunging his cock deep inside of you. so maybe you two were a little impulsive at times, but thats what made you and him click. jungkook never knew the thought of getting someone pregnant was this hot - his hips cracking his bare cock deeper and deeper into you until you’re begging him to cum right into you. so maybe you were the problem too - but you were already pregnant, what else was suppose to happen?

baby daddy jungkook, who asked you to move in with him when you were 3 months. it wasnt as if you already werent here enough - you had more than enough clothes, a toothbrush and your own designated spot in his closet. “it would save you money on rent, too. you could use that money to buy things for the baby.”

baby daddy jungkook, who when you were 6 months, asked you to be bis girlfriend. it wasnt romantic at all - just a thought over dinner; a pizza with a shit ton of random toppings that you wanted and he hadnt told you no. his fingers dances on your small bump and says; “the baby is a size of an avocado, you know? i think we should make it official.”  when you blinked at him, he said, “like boyfriend & girlfriend official…is that what we are already? you sit on my face all the time-“ you shut him up by mushing his face away with a scoff.

baby daddy jungkook who, for the first time in nearly 3 decades of living, had raised his voice at his mother. his brother had cleared his throat while his father had attempted to change the topic of conversation - but his mother was left speechless. after a half an hour of “subtle” shade thrown your way before she told you that she didnt think a child was what jungkook needed now, he was done with being nice. “if you cant accept y/n and the baby, then you dont need to be around either of us.” 

baby daddy jungkook who stood true on his word. his weekly visits to his parents home had stopped all together - not until you were given an apology. “i dont think its that serious, kook. i would be mad too if my child had a baby out of wedlock simply because they were too horny to wrap it up.” but you were appreciative that jungkook had defended you, and within another month, you received the apology.

baby daddy jungkook who had managed to set up the nursery all within the 6 hours that you slept. you woke up to the finishing touches - and a bit overwhelmed that this was really happening. the soft gray crib laid in the middle of the room, the curtains drawn to let it bright, natural light. a rocking chair in the corner of the room, matching the color of the crib. he screwed in floating shelves, some displaying baby books and one pictures; an ultrasound, one of you holding your belly and one of you and him. 

baby daddy jungkook who thought he done something wrong when you burst into (happy) tears. maybe the color was wrong? should he have waited until you were up to set up the nursery? you and he didn't know the gender yet so you opted for more neutral tone colors. “i-i can change it around-“ “shut up, it’s so nice and im emotional!” you had said, easing jungkook’s beating heart. 

baby daddy jungkook who, at your baby shower that your friends were throwing you, demanded that he - and his own group of male friends - be apart of it. so, much to your friends dismay, had added them. the gifts appeared to be never ending. eun-woo coming with mountains of baby clothes, mingyu a custom blanket that was so soft to the touch, you were almost envious. yoongi, an old family friend if yours, stated that he was more logically, nearly stocked up your ceiling with diapers and wipes.

baby daddy jungkook, who nearly fainted when your water broke in the middle of grocery shopping at 2 am - an act you told him you were going to do regardless. so he had drove you and while in the ice cream section, a gush of water trailing down your leg and splashing onto the tiled ground. 

baby daddy jungkook who didn't know what to do while hours of labor. he held your hand, rubbed your arms and your shoulders, but still he felt like whatever he did wasn't enough. "i have to get a c section to get your big headed ass child out!"

baby daddy jungkook who's eyes were wide with shock as his eyes dances between your face to the doctors operating on you. he once watched a video on tiktok about the procedure and he fully understands that woman don't get nearly as much credit as they deserve. you think he looks cute in his scrubs, hair covered by a hairnet that causes you to giggle, the epidural you took easing the pain.

baby daddy jungkook who shakily takes the baby into his arms, his heart pounding after hearing the gender - a boy. how he and you managed to not find out the gender was incredible, but not as much as holding the baby was.

baby daddy jungkook who finds being a dad and experiencing the first everything was just amazing. he documented it all on his camera, zooming in and out of the growing baby's face - a baby that continued to grow over time. in a blink of an eye, his son had managed to sit up, craw, to walking. he and you had screamed at the first steps that it startled your son right back into crawling - but not for long.

baby daddy jungkook who, after five years, somehow, your relationship wasn't the same. you didn't blame him and he didn't blame you. people grow apart, right? they say people change in relationships all the time. that didn't mean that jungkook loved you any less.

baby daddy jungkook who assures he's always on time for pickups. he's leaning against his car just as you open the door to your apartment. his son, now 8, makes his way out. he has his face shoved into his ipad and nearly walks into him. "you ready to ride all the rollarcoasters?" jungkook asks, now catching his sons attention. "isn't he too small for that?" you asked, and jungkook turns his head to you.

baby daddy jungkook who doesn't hide the way his eyes linger on your chest, nipples poking through the shirt you wore. you weren't going anywhere and you were dressed comfortably - how he remembers the way you'd dress when you and he lived together. "stop staring at me, creep." you scoff, but your tone is teasing. "if i didn't know any better, i think you dressed this way for me."

baby daddy jungkook who somehow always finds his way in your bedroom - in which you welcome him into. your son is at school when jungkook comes one afternoon, flowers in his hands. he always assures to bring them once a month, stating that just because you and he weren't together didn't mean he was going to be an asshole.

baby daddy jungkook who fucks you just as good as he did when you and he were together - or just like the very beginning. his cock springing in and out of you rapidly, hands holding onto your hips. "your pussy's always so wet," he'd exclaim, hissing. "best pussy i've ever had, i swear."

baby daddy jungkook who loves whatever position you're in. when you flip him and bounce on his cock, arms wrapped around his shoulders. his tongue would find your skin, roaming around to mark it possessively. his hand would grip your breast, shoving his face into it.

baby daddy jungkook who cums in you so freely - an act you never not tell him to do. you and him are always so caught into the moment that you never bother to wear protection. so thats when you witness yet another positive test, you cannot be upset with jungkook more than yourself.

baby daddy jungkook who is giddy when you show him the test - nearly bouncing at the thought of you two repeating history again. "so, when are you moving back in?" he asks, leaning against the wall. "who says we're getting back together?" you scoff. "you haven't left my house in a week. our son already thinks we're together again."

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[flwrstqr]

日语 ⟣ I'LL LIKE YOU . . SECOND GUESSING YOUR FRIENDSHIP ─────𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝓲. when you're more than friends with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

다니 : this photoshoot of ki & won will always be engraved in my brain ㅠㅠ .. specifically used that won pic for someone .. cough cough (my favie won girl)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung tastes like mint gum and something sweet you can’t quite place, maybe the remnants of the iced americano he always drinks. his lips move like he’s savoring this—like he’s scared you’ll pull away. but you don’t. you never do. your hands tangle in his hoodie strands, pulling him closer as his fingers ghost over your waist, hesitant but wanting. "this is a bad idea," you mumble against heeseung’s lips, but you don’t pull away. his hands are already at your waist, like he needs this as much as you do. "then why aren’t you stopping?" he breathes, and you don’t have an answer, not when his lips ghost over yours again. but you never talk about it, never question what it means, and when heeseung kisses you again, you let him, because it’s easier that way.

PARK JAY

"jay," you sigh, staring at the dress in your hands—soft, delicate, way too expensive. "you have to stop doing this." but jay just grins, leaning back against the couch, arms crossed like he's waiting for you to give in. "why would i? you look pretty in them." friends don’t buy you designer dresses just to see you smile, don’t brush your hair back and say, “this one’s my favorite,” when you step out of the fitting room. but jay does. and when you finally, finally give in—twirling just a little for him, watching the way his eyes light up—you pretend not to notice the way he looks at you, like he’s waiting for something more.

SIM JAKE

"you comfy, pretty girl?" jake's voice is soft, lazy, like he has nowhere else to be but here, sprawled out next to you. his arm is draped over your waist, fingers tracing idle shapes against your hip, and you don't know why the way he says it makes your stomach flip. he always calls you that—pretty girl, baby, angel—but something about the way he says it now, making it feel different. making it feel real. "yeah," you say. his lips curl into a smirk, like he knows something you don’t. "good," he hums, tugging you closer, his breath warm against your skin. but you don’t let yourself overthink it. instead, you just let yourself melt into him, into the way he holds you like you belong to him.

PARK SUNGHOON

"didn’t know you liked hanging around idiots," sunghoon mutters, arms crossed as he leans against your doorframe, watching the guy you were with earlier walk away. his jaw is tight, his eyes sharp, and you don’t miss the way he kept cutting the poor guy off mid-sentence, dismissing him like he was nothing. "he’s not an idiot," you say, but sunghoon just scoffs, pushing past you into your room like he owns the place. "sure," he deadpans, flopping onto your bed, arms behind his head like he’s totally unbothered. except, he is. you saw the way he glared, the way his fingers twitched when the guy got a little too close. you crawl in next to him, and immediately, his arm hooks around your waist. "he's so annoying, i think you should ditch him," sunghoon mumbles.

KIM SUNOO

"you’re not even listening," you pout, nudging sunoo’s arm, but he just laughs, soft and sweet, shaking his head. "i am," he says, but his eyes tell a different story. he’s watching you like you’re the only thing that matters, like every word out of your mouth is something he wants to memorize. the fond smile on his lips only grows as you ramble on, completely unaware of the way he looks at you. "then what did i just say?" you challenge, crossing your arms. he hums, like he’s thinking, but really, he’s just admiring you. "something about… your coworker being annoying," he guesses, grinning when you roll your eyes. "lucky guess," you mumble. sunoo just hums, resting his chin on his hand. "whatever, pretty girl," he murmurs.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon always lets you steal his hoodies, even when he grumbles about it, even when he pretends to snatch it back just to hear you whine. you wonder if friends do that, if friends pull you into their side when you’re cold and give you their hoodie. “you think too much in that brain of yours,” jungwon murmurs, flicking your forehead before tugging the hoodie’s hood over your head. his fingers linger at your chin, like they belong there. you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away. “i was just thinking about how you suck at being just a friend,” you tease, and he laughs, shaking his head. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head, eyes locked on yours. “then stop thinking.” and when he pulls you in closer, you really, really do.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki flicks your forehead, grinning when you scowl. “you’re so slow, hurry up,” he teases, pulling you closer by the sleeve of your hoodie. your phone buzzes, and you glance down, catching the matching phone cases between your hands. “stop looking at me like that,” riki groans, shoving his own phone in his pocket, but you catch a glimpse of his wallpaper—your face, mid-laugh, the same one you have of him. “weirdo,” you mutter, flipping your hand to show the silver ring on your finger, identical to his. “says the one who wanted matching rings.” riki snorts, tugging at your pinky. “you agreed.” you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. it’s never been talked about—why he does these things, why you let him—but when he looks at you like that, like you’re his favorite thing in the world, you think maybe you don’t need to.

[majinbangus]

Being sick but wanting ice cream so you try to sneak out in the middle of the night to buy some like a disheveled gremlin all stuffy and sweaty, feverish in nothing but your pajamas and bathrobe, but just as you're about to leave, the light turns on and a pair of arms wrap around your waist to drag you back in bed for rest.

"Ach?! What the-?"

"Thought you could sneak away, huh?" Your man grumbles, unyielding as he (gently) manhandles you along, shooting you a mean stink eye for your attempted misadventure. "I'm special forces; where did y'think you were goin', sweetheart?"

You feel yourself start to sweat and not from the fever. "No-nowhere, darling, I was just-"

"Using pet names won't butter me up." He tightens his hold when you get squirmy. "Stop that. You need rest, y'muppet."

You blame it on your fever-addled brain, but you try to bargain with him. Promise to be good if he lets you go. Tell him how happy it'd make you if he granted this one wish. A lot of woe, is me peppered in your plea. As it turns out, he's got an iron will, and you need to work on your persuasive skills. Not surprising, but still.

"I want ice cream!" You half-heartedly thrash in his arms, making him click his tongue, adjusting his grip as to not hurt you.

"Fuckin'- stop that!"

"No, lemme go!"

Your feverish resistance is no match for his strength. All you pull from him is a frustrated grunt, annoyed with your antics.

"You're sick. Where you need to go is our bed." He leans in close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. "Or do I need to tie you down?"

The threat has the desired effect and makes you go limp in his arms, if a little pouty. You know he would do it. He's done it before, and he'll do it again. He's a man of his word, and (majority of the time) you know when to listen.

He successfully wrangles you back in bed, getting you to lie back down in warm sheets with little complaint. No rope is necessary, but he wraps you up in his arms just in case. A tried and true form of pinning you down. You never thought he'd use this method against you while you were incapacitated, but you're a wily one, even when you're sick. He'll make sure you can't escape.

You may have failed your little mission, but it's not too terrible of a loss. Not when it led you to being cuddled in his arms.

You still wish you got your ice cream, though. It's been forever since you had some. Too bad you'll only get to painfully, dramatically, yearn for your lost love now.

There's a deep chuckle puffing against your ear, and then you're being hugged tighter to your captor.

"I know that look. Don't pout. I'll get you your ice cream. Just get better for me first. Alright, mischief?"

... Alright.

[rafecameronssl4t]

My girl, my business || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @drewstarkeynation

Summary: You could never brush off what Sarah did to you during your last year at Kook academy, even when you started to date her older brother.

Warnings: suggestive, swearing, Sarah is a bitch in this one soz,

Word count: 508

A/n: once again, summary is shit. Whats new 😔

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Is your sister home?” you question Rafe, slipping into one of his shirts as he watches you from his bed. “Which one? I have two,” he replies, his tone practically dripping with smugness.

“You know exactly which sister I’m referring to, Rafe,” you murmur, glancing at him over your shoulder as he chuckles, hands coming up behind his head as he leans against his bed frame. “What’s your problem with Sarah anyways?”

You throw Rafe a look, wondering if he was being serious. “Do you seriously not remember what happened when the cops got called at your sisters party that happened to be at my house?” Rafe pulls a face as he thinks for a second, “Oh, shit. Yeah. You got stripped of everything at school, didn’t you?” He snickers as you hurl a shirt in his direction, which he skillfully dodges.

“Not funny dickhead.” you huff, gathering your belongings from his side of the bedside table. “C’mon babe, you know I’m joking,” he says, taking your hands and drawing you close, planting a soft kiss on your lips, causing you to melt into him.

“And no, Sarah isn’t home. She hasn’t been since Tuesday. Probably off with those fucking pogues.” Rafe murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. You scoff, shaking your head incredulously, “Kook princess, my ass.” Rafe snorts at the rivalry between you and his sister.

~

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sarah’s voice slices through the air, grating on your nerves as you click the door shut behind you. You turn to face her, meeting her intense gaze head-on.

“Isn’t it kind of obvious?” you retort, your sarcasm dripping like honey from your lips, accompanied by a subtle frown as she watches you, arm tightly crossed.

“Oh, come on, Sarah,” you scoff, trying to downplay the obviousness of the situation, though her piercing gaze makes it clear that she’s not buying it for a second.

“I was fucking your brother.” You say casually, the words landing with a blunt force that leaves Sarah slightly taken aback. The raw truth hangs in the air, mingling with the tension between you both.

Sarah’s voice trembles with fury as she starts, “Get the fuck out of my house—” but Rafe’s voice cuts through the air, commanding and firm, “Watch your fucking tongue, Sarah.” His touch sends a shiver down your spine as his hands gently snake across your waist, his gaze piercing and cold as he fixates on her.

“This isn’t any of your business, Rafe,” Sarah snaps defiantly, her eyes flashing with anger. But Rafe only chuckles, his amusement tinged with something unsettling as he glowered at her.

“It kind of is. She’s my girl so she’s my business. So why don’t you run along with your little pogue friends and leave us alone, sound good? Good,” he says, his voice dripping with authority and finality. With a firm grip, he pulls you back into his room, leaving Sarah standing there, stunned and speechless

“I could’ve handled it, y’know,” you remark, tossing your keys and phone onto his bedside table. He turns you around to face him, a playful grin spreading across his lips. “Mhmm, I knew you could. Just wanted to yell at her for fun,” he says with a smirk, prompting a chuckle from you in response.

[vunblr]

Lush.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected Sex. Some fluff. Slight Angst. Body Insecurity (Bucky). Size kink. Use of pet names. Finger sucking.

Summary: After Bucky is reminded by an offending shirt that his body isn't what it used to be, Sugarplum finds just the right way to get him out of his head.

Word Count: 4.1k.

notes: This fic can be read as a standalone, but is a filthy follow-up of Plump and Ripe.

This is one of the works I'm submitting for the @avengers-assemble-bingo Kinky Bingo. The prompt was "Finger Sucking". Plot? what plot? Card number KB-014.

Bucky hadn’t dropped a pound. Not for lack of trying, he trained harder, ran longer, even made peace with the sad green smoothies Sam brought every time they met. But his body, thanks to that failed mission that ended up with him as a Hydra guinea pig again, held on to every soft part of flesh like it was fighting him. A year into dating her, though, he found out sometimes he didn’t care as much. Not when she looked at him the way she did. Not when her house smelled like cherries and safety, and her couch had his dent from where he always sat. These days, his apartment felt more like a storage unit, and her place up the fruit shop felt like home.

He grunted softly as he tugged off his stained henley, damp with sauce. He’d gotten too invested in his cheat food again. Messy, handheld, and completely worth the ruined shirt. But now, standing in her bedroom, digging through the drawer where she kept a few of his spare clothes, his mood began to sour.

He pulled on a clean henley, only to feel it tighter than he remembered around his midsection. His brows knit together. One thing was not losing weight -he could live with that- but fattening up? After an entire month of forcing down more salads and adding another damn routine to his training? He stared at his reflection, pressing his lips into a thin, flat line.

He tugged the shirt down again, trying to smooth out the way it clung around his stomach. The fabric bunched at his sides, tighter than it had been a few weeks ago, and definitely tighter than last month. It wasn’t just the damn stain from lunch anymore. It was the way this shirt used to be loose at some places, and now clung to his body like it was afraid to let go. He sighed through his nose and padded toward the kitchen.

Three hours. In three hours, he’d have to head back to his place, grab his gear, and suit up for a long mission with Sam. He glanced at the clock and grimaced. He was already dreading the way his tactical belt would pinch. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it would click shut this time.

The front door creaking open snapped him out of the spiral. He instinctively straightened his back, like he could somehow stretch himself leaner in the next five seconds.

She walked in, hanging up her coat, and saw his expression. “Hey, handsome.” Her voice was soft and warm, the way it always was, happy to see him.

He forced one of those weird, practiced smiles that don’t fool anyone and never quite reach his eyes. “Hey.”

Her brow furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Sam threw some last-minute intel at you?”

“No.” He kept the smile in place, but it wobbled under her gaze.

She didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t. She crossed the room without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tensed, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because he felt it. The soft give of his belly pressed right into her body, and the henley pulled tighter on him with the movement. Too tight. Obvious. Pathetic.

His jaw clenched as he tried to hide the flinch, but she felt the tension in his body. She leaned back just enough to look up at him.

“What is it, gummybear?” she asked, gently. It was affectionate, but it felt like a slap to his pride.

Gummybear. Chewy. Squishy. Sweet, maybe, but soft. He used to be called a weapon. Even “Papa-bear” carried a bit of strength or manliness to it. But gummy? Christ. He pressed his lips into a thin line, not trusting himself to speak without the shame curling up his throat.

She felt it. Subtle, but unmistakable. The way he sucked in his stomach the moment her arms closed around him. The involuntary reflex of a man trying to shrink himself, to hide his body.

So it was one of those days. She sighed softly against his chest but didn’t call him out. She never did.

Instead, she nuzzled into him, sliding her palms up his sides, slowly and deliberately, skimming over the tension in his torso until they rested on his chest. She stopped there, spreading her fingers over the firm muscle of his pecs before curling behind his neck.

“You know, Buck,” she murmured, pressing herself closer until every inch of her body molded against him, “I’m really gonna miss you these next few days.”

He stiffened a little, but did not pull away. Still stuck in his head.

She pressed a kiss to his collarbone and let her voice drop into something softer. Needier. “And I was thinking that maybe…”

Her hand slid down the curve of his back and gave a firm, affectionate squeeze to his ass. He jerked slightly, startled, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Maybe you can give me a little something as a parting gift.”

“W-what kind of gift?” his voice rasped slightly, unsure if he was supposed to laugh or groan.

“Oh, I don’t know…” She rose onto her toes, brushing the shell of his ear with her lips. “Maybe you can fuck me so stupid I’ll be thinking about it the whole time you’re gone.”

The tips of his ears were going red. She could feel the way his pulse jumped beneath her fingers, the way his hands hovered uselessly at her sides for a second before finding a place to rest, one on her lower back, the other clutching her hip.

“Shit,” he muttered. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Her smile was smug against his throat. “Sure I can. I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, like he still couldn’t believe that was real. He leaned back just enough to look at her. His brow furrowed, that stormy look creeping back in, until she cupped his cheek.

“Don’t go inside your head,” she whispered. “Stay with me. Right here.”

That did it. His shoulders dropped slightly, and the tension drained out in a slow exhale. His thumb traced a lazy circle over her hip, rough pad dragging over the cotton of her tee.

“I don’t think I can make you stupid,” he mumbled, trying for humor and failing adorably. “But I can try to make you remember me.”

She grinned, tugging him closer by the collar of his too-tight henley. “That’s the spirit, Sarge.”

He groaned under his breath, half a laugh and half a curse, but bent to kiss her anyway, deep and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Like he wanted this to last her through every single mile he had to put between them.

Her words still echoed in his ears. Fuck me so stupid. She always knew exactly how to get to him, how to twist his insecurities into afterthoughts with just a few words and the warmth of her body pressed against him.

His hands slid down her back, gripping the underside of her thighs to lift her easily, letting her legs wrap around him. He carried her to the bedroom like he’d done a hundred times before, but it still made her breath hitch every time, like she couldn’t believe the strength tucked inside him.

She tugged at the hem of his henley the second they hit the room, frantic, her mouth still hot from a kiss that never really ended. He let her pull it up and off, baring his chest to her, thick and broad, a little soft in a way that always made her mouth water.

Her hands went to his belt next, working the buckle loose.

But when they started toward his zipper, his hand caught hers.

"Uh-uh," he murmured, in a low and thick voice, the one with that edge he got when the switch flipped in his brain, when her teasing stopped being something to endure and started being something to tame.

She blinked up at him, confused for a second.

He smirked -crooked, knowing- and his voice dropped to a near-growl. "Strip for me, Sugarplum."

The command wasn’t harsh. If anything, it was warm, coaxing, but it carried certain weight. Authority. It made her shift on her feet.

He saw it happen, the way her confidence flickered into something shy, the way her gaze dipped for a heartbeat before sliding back up to meet his. It never failed to rail him, the way she could turn so soft under his attention. Not because she was unsure, but because she felt the gravity of his want.

“C’mon, sugar,” he drawled, stepping back just enough to let her move. “Wanna see you. All of you. Before I make a mess outta us both.”

Her fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse, and Bucky sat back on the edge of the bed, manspreading, hands resting on his thighs.

Waiting.

And fuck if the heat in his gaze didn’t make her feel like the most delicate, desirable thing in the damn world.

She slipped the last piece of clothing from her body, and her breath was already shallow, skin prickling under his gaze. Bucky hadn’t moved from the bed, still sitting with his thighs spread wide, eyes dark and fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, slowly. “Goddamn,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “Come here.”

She took a hesitant step toward him, but he was already moving, reaching for her waist and guiding her to straddle his lap. The shift was flawless, like he’d done it a hundred times in his mind. She settled over him with a small gasp, bracing her hands on his shoulders, her thighs hugging his hips.

He looked up at her, heavy-lidded, and then he moved.

In one smooth motion, he rolled them over the bed, laying her down beneath him with a soft thump against the mattress. Her breath caught in her throat as he hovered over her, his weight on her so welcome. But he didn’t stop there.

Still kneeling, he slid his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her, hauling her hips effortlessly up off the bed, spreading her legs wide, and draping them over his broad shoulders. She yelped, completely unprepared, as he manhandled her like she weighed nothing.

“Bucky-!” Her voice broke on the last syllable, arching her spine instinctively.

He chuckled, low and rough against her skin. “What, baby?” he said, kissing the soft inside of her thigh. “Forgot I’m strong?”

She couldn’t answer. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the sheets, not knowing where to grab, overwhelmed by the sight of his face between her legs, already buried, closing his eyes.

If he could bench press a car, or lift a fucking truck by the axle… why wouldn’t he do this like it cost him nothing?

She moaned as his tongue licked a long, deliberate stripe through her already-soaked slit, slow and savoring, like he had all the time in the goddamn world.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her whole body already shivering against him.

His grip on her ass hardened, digging his fingers just enough to still her her while he mouthed at her ravenously. No teasing. No warm-up. Just a focused, hungry, and devastating Bucky.

He didn’t give her time to catch her breath, didn’t want her to have time. His tongue worked like he meant to ruin her, dragging through her sensitive folds again and again, slick and purposeful. Every flick, every suck of his lips around her clit was ruthless.

He had her straddled on his shoulders like she was nothing, just something sweet to devour. And he was so fucking good at it.

Her thighs began to tremble where they rested against his chest and shoulders, her cries pitching higher each time his tongue slipped inside her, slow at first, then deeper, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds that only made her slicker. She twisted in his grip, throwing back her head, fisting the sheets.

“B-Bucky- oh god- fuck-!”

His mouth never left her. He groaned into her pussy and then wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.

Hard.

She shattered.

Her back bowed and her toes curled behind his shoulders, as a strangled sob left her lips as her climax hit like a goddamn lightingbolt. She came in his mouth with a gush, and he didn’t let up. If anything, he got greedier, lapping her up like he meant to keep her trembling.

Only when her body sagged, wrung out and slick with sweat, he finally release her.

He eased her onto the bed, still with his pants on, and the glistening mess he’d made of his mouth and chest on display. She barely had time to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the waist and flipped her like she weight nothing, dragging her hips up until she was arched, with her knees pressed under her body, ass raised for him.

He knelt behind her, fumbling with his zipper, growling under his breath. “You know what that pussy does to me?” he rasped. “Papa Bear is gonna split you open on this cock so fucking deep, you’ll feel me every time you sit down this week.”

She only whimpered, dazed and raw from the orgasm still buzzing in her veins.

He grunted as he finally got the zipper down, dragging his cock free, hard, flushed, already leaking. He lined himself up, ran the head through her soaked pussy, and then paused.

He bent over her, bringing his mouth to her ear, his voice a low, growled promise.

“I’m gonna fuck you so stupid, as you asked, that you’ll forget your own name. You want that, Sugarplum?” He gave her ass a sharp slap. “You wanna be my little mess before I go play hero again?”

She moaned helplessly, nodding frantically against the sheets.

And Bucky -still half dressed, cock in hand,- sank into her in one long, deep stroke.

“Fuck, Sarge!” she gasped when he bottomed out, arching her body into the mattress beneath the weight of his hips. His thick thighs pressed hard into the back of hers, and the stretch had her vision going white at the edges. He gave her a moment -just a moment- with a few teasing, shallow thrusts, letting her body adjust around his girth. But then, with a low grunt, he drew back and slammed forward again, setting a brutal pace that had the entire bedframe rattling.

The bronze headboard clanged against the wall with each thrust, and she could barely think, barely breathe.

“You feel that?” he growled, voice dark and feral behind her. “Fuckin’ dripping for me, so tight, squeezin’ me like you don’t wanna let me go.” His Brooklyn accent started to thicken like every time he took control.

Her mouth was open, breath catching on each thrust. He was relentless, slapping his hips against her ass, heavily and purposefully.

“Look at you, little mess under me, beggin’ to be ruined,” he rasped, slapping her ass again, then gripping it to pull her back onto his cock. “This is what you wanted, Sugar? My cock wrecking your little pussy before I’m gone?”

“Y-yeah,” she gasped, nodding frantically, body trembling from the hard cadence. “Please, Bucky- cover me. Want to feel you on top.”

That did something to him. He groaned low in his throat, the sound pure hunger, and leaned forward over her, parting her knees wider with his until her belly dipped against the sheets.

Her breath caught as his body came down on hers -warm, heavy, solid- his chest pressing against her back, the soft curve of his belly flush with her spine.

“Greedy fuckin’ sugarplum,” he muttered into her ear, a teasing smile curving his lips even as his cock plunged deeper at this new angle. “You wanted all of me? You got me.”

He braced himself with his vibranium arm planted beside her head, the whirling of servos was faint under the moan she let out. His flesh hand curled under her, palming one breast before rolling her nipple between thick fingers.

She whined, too sensitive, too close.

Then he reached higher, brushing her lips with his hand.

“Open,” he said low but firmly.

She obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips, and he pushed two thick fingers into her mouth, slow and deep, pressing the pads to her tongue.

“Suck,” he said, rough and quiet near her ear.

She did. Her lips sealed around them, hollowed her cheeks with each drag of suction, and his breath stuttered against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grinding his hips down. “You know what that does to me, Sugar.”

She moaned softly around his digits, and his cock twitched inside her. Her mouth was hot, slick, obedient, and seeing her like that beneath him, around him, had his restraint unraveling.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her mouth, slow at first, letting her taste the salt and heat of his skin, letting her tongue slide between the ridges of his knuckles. She kept her eyes closed, sucking him worshipfully. Intimately. Dirty in a way that made something primal pulse low in his gut.

“Goddamn, you like this, don’t you?” he rasped. “Lyin’ there droolin’ on my fingers while I’m so deep inside you.”

She whined, rocking back her hips as she sucked harder, eagerly, her moans muffled by the weight of his hand.

“That’s it,” he growled, leaning more of his body into hers. “You’re so fuckin’ good, Sugar.”

He twisted his wrist slightly, letting his fingers slide into the inside of her cheek. Her hips jerked, a high, keen sound escaping around the seal of her lips.

“You gonna cum for me like this?” he whispered, his breath hot at her nape. “Gonna cream my cock while you suck on my fingers, hm?”

Still buried deep, Bucky let his weight shift forward. The bed creaked beneath them, her thighs already parted wide by his, trembling from how hard he was working her.

His vibranium hand slid down from where he’d been braced, slowly and deliberately, gliding over the dip of her waist, down the curve of her belly. She shuddered beneath him, a gasp caught in her throat as the cool drag of metal trailed lower.

“You feel that?” he rasped against her ear, scraping her earlobe with the edge of his teeth. “So hot down here.”

Two of his cold fingers pressed into the slick mess between her legs, rubbing through the slick spread around where his cock stretched her open and he groaned.

“You made a fuckin’ mess,” he growled, dragging the metal pads, slow and teasing. “You like being this messy for me?”

She whimpered, still sucking on his fingers, hips buckling against his touch.

Then he found her clit -swollen, throbbing- and pinched it softly.

Her whole body jolted.

He grinned against her neck, watching her eyes roll back as he started circling it firmly, mercilessly. He didn’t need finesse. Just pressure. Rhythm. She was already on the edge, trembling around him, drooling down his knuckles.

“C’mon, Sugarplum. One more.” He pinched her clit again, just enough to make her twitch. “Wanna feel you lose it while my cock’s so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.”

She tried to moan something around his fingers, tried to beg or curse or praise, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. The wet suck of her mouth, the clench of her pussy, the twitch in her thighs, it was all he needed.

His vibranium fingers pressed harder, rubbing at one side of her clit until she broke apart, loud and wild, squeezing him in pulses that drew a low hiss from his throat.

“Fuck! Fuck-, Sugar, I was tryin’ to hold out,” he gritted, jerking his hips against her ass in an uncoordinated rhythm. “Was gonna make it last. Make you come again-”

But she was still clenching around him, trying to milk him dry, her slick mouth sucking on his fingers, the heat of her pussy gripping him like it never wanted to let go, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Shit,” he hissed, burying himself as deep as he could go, thick thighs tensed against the backs of hers. “Gonna fuckin’ cum.”

His hand let go of her clit and fisted in the sheets under her as he came -hard and long- his breath catching in his throat as he flooded her with warm, thick pulses until it spilled back around him.

“Jesus,” he choked, grinding once, twice more to push it in deeper, like he could bury every drop inside her.

He stayed like that, pressed flush against her back, heart pounding, lips parted against her shoulder as her body quivered beneath his, wrung out and stuffed full.

He didn’t speak right away; he just let his weight rest heavy and solid on her body.

Then, low against her ear: “You took me so good, sugar. Let me wreck you just right.”

He slowly eased his fingers from her mouth, dragging them lazily, then planted his hand on the mattress to lift some of his weight off her body. Still half-hard and resting against her soaked folds, he dipped his vibranium fingers back down, teasing the mess between her thighs.

“So, Sugarplum,” he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “Did you like your parting gift? Such a mess you got here,” he added, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. Two cool fingers circled the tender rim of her entrance, stretched, swollen, and leaking. He dragged one through the creamy slick coating her folds, deliberately slow, then slipped just the tip inside, shallow and maddening.

She hummed, boneless beneath him, then shifted just enough to lift her hips and rub her ass against his pelvis. His cock twitched, pulsing with interest at the friction.

“Yeah, but I’ll still miss you, Papa Bear,” she said sleepily, her voice laced with satisfaction and mischief.

Bucky pushed himself up, and the mattress groaned beneath him as he rose to his knees. His palm caressed her hip before gliding lower, giving her ass a lazy squeeze. His fingers spread, parting her cheeks just enough to admire his handywork.

A sound halfway between a hum and a growl rumbled in his chest. “Fucking perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, too wrecked to lift her head. Something about feeling good.

He let his gaze roam over her body, heavy-lidded and full of heat, before he reached for his discarded shirt to wipe gently at her thighs, not bothering to be thorough. His other hand stayed on her, stroking slowly over the curve of her hip. His body still buzzed with the aftershock, his cock twitching but spent, for now.

Moments like this, when her skin was soft beneath his hands and her body pliant from pleasure, made it easier to forget the parts of himself he hated. The thickened waistline. The sluggish metabolism that Hydra had cursed him with their prodding. A year of clean eating and harder workouts, and still, nothing changed. If anything, he’d grown softer.

But her. She never made him feel less.

Not when she kissed his belly with the same hunger as his mouth. Not when she reached for him in the dark, whispering “Papa Bear” like it was something sacred.

And not now, lying there ruined and smiling like he’d hung the damn moon.

He sank onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, then shifted and pulled her with him like it was second nature. She let out a little squeak as he manhandled her into his chest, cradling her against him like she weighed nothing at all, again. Her warm thigh draped over his, and her cheek found the place over his heart that always seemed made for her.

“I’ll miss you so much, Bucky,” she murmured, voice muffled as she nuzzled into his skin.

His hand came up instinctively, caressing her hair before he kissed the crown of her head. “I’ll try to be in touch,” he whispered. The promise was sincere, even if he couldn’t always keep it.

She didn’t push. She just sighed, content against his skin, and let her hand drift down across his stomach until it rested at the edge of his waist, curving her palm around his soft lines. There, where he usually tensed. Where his breath always hitched.

But this time… he didn’t flinch.

This time, he reached down and covered her hand with his own, pressing it gently against the curve of his love handle. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

She smiled into his chest. And he stayed there, holding her close, allowing himself to feel good in his skin again.

Permanent Taglist: @civilbucky @pandaxnienke @queergalpal97 @mrsalexstan

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

[webism]

You make a spur-of-the-moment detour to your exes house on his birthday.

ex!Toji Fushiguro x afab reader. 4.2k. read on ao3

cw: a little bit o' angst, some drinking, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, toji doesnt wash his sheets i know it.

One dark night cursed with rain is all it takes to bring you back to Toji’s front door. Knuckles rapping on wood despite your own mind— it’s the warmest night of the week, humidity seeps into your bones. 

Toji opens his door and greets you with silence. You stand, a vision of something desperate. The man who had once loved you so tenderly watches you with stale eyes. You feel sick for remembering it’s his birthday. You also feel sick knowing he’s spent it in this damn house.

Not a word is shared, sweet nor acidic. Oh your Toji, stoic and silent. Not a thing has changed. 

He steps to the side, offering you refuge from the dreary weather. His eyes are on his driveway, left empty: you walked here. It’s apparent in the way your hair shines wet with rain. 

He used to lecture you for having wet hair in late hours like this, even when it’s warm. His mother used to tell him, hand gentle on the side of his face, ‘Toji, you’ll get a cold.’ 

He’s silent still as you walk past him, and cross the threshold into the house you used to waste away in. You don’t bother to take your shoes off: maybe in an attempt to convince yourself not to stay long. Though you do feel hauntingly warm trapped within such cold walls. 

The door clicks shut. Twelve seconds of silence ensue— you count. 

His first word, “Wine?” 

You ponder the butterfly effect. What total disaster will occur as a result of playing into this fever you’ve been having? How many casualties will you be accountable for? Will blood stain your hands? An ugly pit settles in your stomach. 

You nod regardless, there’s nothing in this house that can’t be nursed with a drink. Toji nods and god have you missed those eyes that soften just a little at the corners when he looks at you.

He only has the cheap stuff, and he has to shuffle through a few empty bottles to find it. Red. It pours smooth, Toji’s hands tight on the neck of the bottle as he bleeds it for you. The rain outside gets heavier: you think of it as a sign you left at the right time. Though, if you hadn’t left at all you’d still be dry. 

It’s been months since your last drink. You down the glass in two sips, you hate the taste but accept when Toji offers you another. What’s a night like this without relapse?

A step forward. 

“This place hasn’t changed,” you note, watching as Toji walks from kitchen to living room, steps heavy and haunting. He stands a few feet from you, back pressed against the wall. “You should move into something more comfortable.”

“A townhouse?” He teases you.

Yes. A townhouse like you. Yours, maybe— or the one across the road that’s just gone up for sale. It has a privacy screen you know he’d love and no broken tiles and no bad memories. You could walk the hot pavement to ask for some sugar when you’re out, and he could tell you he doesn’t have any, because why would he have sugar? And when you would go home deflated, he would run out to buy a bag of sugar, two— one white and one brown because you never specified— and leave them at your front door. Yes. A townhouse. 

“No,” you look down. “You’re not a townhouse type of man.”

Toji exhales. He asks you, in a tone laced with something dark, what type of man he is. 

You gesture around you, the wallpaper is beginning to peel. He’s this type of man.

Toji looks at you, and he asks ‘why are you here? it’s been a year and your life is finally stable again,’ but he asks with his eyes, because those words would never leave his lips. You hate that you can still read him. You wonder if you’ll speak his language forever. 

“Happy birthday,” you say. “I didn’t get you anything.”

Silence, and then– “good.”

You could have emptied your wallet for him with ease. You know he needs things: new socks, a watch that isn't broken, a new beginning. Toji has never taken anything from you though, not gifts or favours or cuddles after sex. You hate that about him: always a provider, never being cared for. Such a shell of a happy man, you count yourself special for having seen him smile. Such gifts have always been your favourite.

“How's…” he trails off, a frail attempt at not suffocating you in the silence he knows you hate. The words don't meet his lips, though: how's your new life? Finally on a comfortable wage? And how are the neighbours? Are they noisy like mine are? Do you stay up laughing at their awkward sex noises like we did? Do you fuck a warm body to drown them out just like us? Do you live trying to recreate domestic life with me? Do you miss the filth? The broken sleep? Were you ever happy? Why are you here?

Toji  bites his tongue. “More wine?”

“No, thanks.”

The rain continues. Despite the roof over your head, you feel heavy with water: something uneasy settles inside of you, and Toji steps closer. He’s wearing black, as usual, and his sleeves are short so you're able to notice he’s added onto his tattoos. Your initial still sits untouched just by his elbow, he’s held onto at least some of you.

Maybe words don’t need to be shared. You step forward. He follows suit.

Before you can stop yourself, you are standing toe-to-toe with Toji Fushiguro. You can watch his shoulders raise with each deep breath he takes, and as you lift your gaze, you look death in the eyes. Sorcerer killer. As beautiful as ever. 

You feel small and powerless, without purpose or justification. Must you always think for yourself? You’re tired of wrestling with that mind of yours. In the cold house you once shared with him, you suddenly forget how to make good decisions. You raise your hands, and touch his lip with your fingertips. He has a new scar, one that runs from the corner of his mouth downwards. You want to kiss it away. You wonder if he pays it much attention in the mirror, is the memory of getting it as bad as the memory of you?

“You shouldn't be here,” Toji slips his large hands to your waist. You feel at home. “Left for a better life.”

“Yeah.”

“I can walk you home.”

“Shut up, Toji. It’s your birthday.”

Relapse: god it tastes good. Toji kisses you like it’s his first and last taste of you. It's deep and yearning and laced with lust and anger and an awful fear of loss. But at the same time, he kisses you like it’s a tuesday evening, and he's just now home from work and you’ve been busy all day with the house, which is quaint and clean and not run-down like his. Maybe a townhouse.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and he kisses you like he had once planned to on your wedding night: your back hits the wall, but his hand is behind your head to cushion it. A tear slips down your face, overwhelmed by the presence of who has haunted so many of your dreams. You want more of him, you want to indulge yourself on the forbidden: what a taboo his touch has become.

“Please,” you speak against his lips. 

“On the bed.”

Toji steps away from you, and nods down the hall. You know your way, you know this house like it's built from your own bones. Memories flash through your mind with each step you take towards his bedroom, the one that used to be yours, too. You let yourself smile, remembering being carried to bed after a drink too many, or spending hours curled up under the sheets waiting for your love to return home. Eating breakfast in bed together, the sex that would follow.

His footsteps are heavy against the wood behind you, he shadows you as you walk into his room, once yours too. The bed has moved, it’s pushed against the wall now— you suppose there isn’t need for someone else to have room to get in on the other side. You wonder how many people he’s fucked to forget about you in the sheets that used to smell like you. 

You can only worry so much, jealousy doesn’t do one well when it’s barely justified. You sit on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers along the soft covers and try not to think of all the times you've been here before. You used to sit and watch him get dressed, the troublesome time it would take to get his clothes on worth the sight of his bare skin covered to remain for your eyes alone. You’d daydream sometimes of watching him dress for different circumstances; maybe in another life you’d sit in the master bedroom of a townhouse and watch your Toji dress for the picket-fence desk job dream rather than for murder.

And yet, the bed seems to swallow you whole. This room, even after you left, remains half yours. A cursory glance to the wardrobe shows it still half empty, dust laden over the dresser your perfumes once sat atop. The curtains covering his window are the same ones you had picked out on sale in the spirit of making a house a home. You still linger. 

Toji leans against the wall by the window, his toned arms crossed over his chest as he watches you look around. His lips part slowly, but he closes his mouth and clears his throat when you lean back on your elbows. You stare ahead at nothing in particular, thinking of all those nights where you laid awake, watching him in his sleep, worrying about whether he’d come home in a box the following week. You never stopped worrying, really.

With every passing second you feel more and more guilty. Selfish for imposing on Toji's life without you, estranged for leaving a townhouse nine blocks over to return to the home you had left so long ago.

“I miss you,” you say softly.

Toji doesn’t move, doesn’t speak— you can hear the rain worsen outside. You think you’ve fucked things up—ruined the relapse—when Toji pushes himself off the wall and reaches you in two long steps. He looks down at you, large frame towering over your body in a way that makes you feel both small and seen at the same time. You sit in his shadow, under his punitive gaze, looking up at the man you had once promised a forever to. 

Toji leans down, meets you in height and kisses you once again. This time, the kiss is slow, languid and gentle in a way you remember once hating. You’d always yearn for the rough, mean side of Toji that could make you see stars in seconds. You used to want the Zenin to come out and settle your hunger. But now, with the gentle way in which Toji takes your lips between his, you couldn’t imagine wanting anyone but him.

He kisses you like a man home from war which, in a way, he always will be. When his hands come to rest on your waist, you’re confronted by the memories of his touch: soft on your skin, tender and caring despite the roughness of his very being. When he draws your thighs apart and kneels between them, you hate yourself for ever leaving. How cruel you were. 

Toji sets his fingers under the waistband of your pants and pulls them down, panties too, in one swift movement aided only by the raising of your hips. He looks at you, bare and desperate, and his throat goes dry. He tries desperately to clear his mind of all the memories that start like this, with you spread out and laid back in wait of him. He pressed a gentle his to your thigh, then sinks his teeth into your flesh—anything to leave a mark on you again.

“Ow,” you whine, buck your hips up a little in hopes of pleasure to chase the pain. Toji doesn’t relent, he bites your thigh again, this time a little higher. “Toji.”

“Don’t say my name like that,” he growls, catches your skin between his teeth and moves upwards. “Like you’re still used to this. Like we’re fucking for the third time this week. That’s gone.”

You take a breath in and close your eyes. You can feel yourself deflate a little, his words are sharp and poking but his lips are gentle as they kiss over the indentations left by his teeth. Another kiss, even higher, and he’s soon pressing his lips to your clit in something you can only describe as reunion.

It can’t all be gone, because he darts his tongue out to circle around your clit in a way he’s done so much before it’s now muscle memory. As is the way your hips buck upwards just to be caught and pinned by his strong hands. You’re held down and ravaged by your Toji, who dips his tongue down through your folds before latching onto your clit like he’s trying to find comfort in your taste. Maybe he finds it, because he lets out a sigh and presses his forehead to your pelvis as he takes a breath.

“You taste the same,” he mumbles, dipping forward again to practically make out with your cunt. He’s always been messy—hungry. You can feel his scar against you, it’s new and not something you attach to him just yet, but maybe that's a good thing. Your fingers curl into the silk sheets you brought on sale two years ago. 

“Your tongues the same, always fucking teasing.”

“Deal with it.”

You try again to buck your hips up in protest, but his grip on your waist is too wrought. He’s mean, holding you down and denying you the chance to chase pleasure, but he’s always been this way—Toji will do anything to hold control. He returns his attention to your needy clit and eats you out at a pace you can only call familiar: too fucking slow. You want to protest, to whine and beg for more in the hopes his ego will take the buff and make you cum on his tongue, but before you can even part your lips to speak, he’s mumbling against your pussy.

“Just let me savour this.”

Oh and who are you to deny him after so long, after the withdrawals of losing his tongue you’re eager to end it so soon? No, you’re driven by lust and not giving your heart a moment to voice whims. You tighten your grip on the sheets, feel the slow coil in your stomach pull further, and let out a breath. You feel him wholly, each flick of his tongue over your sensitive achey clit, the dig of his thick fingers into your waist, his breath against your skin as he moans into his ministries. 

You’re close before you can start entirely savouring it. “Toji,” you try—but he knows you, he feels it already.

“I know, ma, you can take some more. Know you can, always been a fuckin’ slut for my mouth”

You can’t—you both know it. Toji wants to feel you unravel against his lips and give himself reason to punish you for it. He pushes two fingers into your fluttering cunt and curls them upwards just to torture you further. You’d chide him if you weren’t choking on your moans already, practically begging him with your sweet noises for that oh-so-wanted relief.

And he obliges, of course, because your orgasm is a rarity he used to taste daily. Something he missed, the taste of your relief, the way you’d shake under his touch and let him kiss you better afterwards. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’s been good enough of a man to deserve this, at least once more. 

Your orgasm wracks through you like a wave would a desolate beach in a storm. Emotional. Restorative in a way. Sobering. You half expect your eyes to open and find yourself back at home in the comforts of your new bed with your hand down your pants and your fingers soaked at the thought of your Toji, as so many nights go. But no: he’s here and lapping up your release like a starving man would. 

He stills by your pussy for a few moments, and you know he’s trying to will his erection down even just a little bit. His pants are strained and even friction against the mattress doesn’t do much for him—still, he doesn’t know if you want to take all of him again. He’d be okay with just your taste, but every second that passes without him being inside of you feels somewhat torturous–debilitating. You pick up on his struggles and tug at the strands of black hair you used to shampoo each evening.

“Toji,” you hum. “Want you inside of me. Need to feel it again.”

Your ex lover, though calling him such leaves a horrid taste in your mouth, climbs over you and takes both of your wrists to pin the above your head with one hand. He looks down at you with something in his gaze that you can’t quite pinpoint: anger? Hurt? Heat?

Regardless, he used his free hand to line up with your sopping entrance and push forward. Catching your lips between his in a kiss as he does so, Toji moans into the gasp you let out as he stretches you open. This is hauntingly familiar, the burn of his first thrust—so big that you can’t  completely get used to him no matter how often he’s working you open on his cock. You love it, you’d call yourself an addict if it were appropriate. 

He bottoms out, buries himself to the hilt inside of you and rests his forehead against yours. You half expect him to be mean. He used to fuck you rough when you were together and he was particularly stressed: he’s wrap a strong hand around your throat or push your face into the pillows and fuck you so hard he had to carry you to the shower to clean off. 

But Toji isn’t rough, even with his cock splitting you open and the anger of your leaving, he isn’t rough. He lets your wrists go and moves his hand to cup your face and just stare for a moment. You know the look in his eyes too well, something overwhelming washes over him, and you swear you can see a slight tremble to his lips. He’s beyond beautiful, eyes darting all over your face in hopes of memorising your every feature—as if you’re not already burnt into his mind. Like you’re not what he sees whenever he closes his eyes. 

“Too much?” you ask, feeling the tremor in his hands. 

Toji looks down at you and, with a dry mouth, manages a small “yeah.”

Your hand finds his face, thumb tracing over the scar on his lip in gentle strokes. Something soothing, you hope, for a man far from finding comfort. “You wanna stop?”

“God no,” Toji shakes his head. “Do you want to, uh—”

“Flip us over, Fushiguro.”

With his length still hidden inside of you, Toji swiftly flips the both of you over so that his back hits the mattress and you’re sat on his cock and staring down at him for once. His hands find your hips, still with a slight tremor to his grip but a little more comfort than before. Gravity helps you take Toji a little deeper than you had, so you lean forward a little and rest your hands on his chest. His heart thrums beneath your touch, not quite pounding but fast enough to make you smile.

“Let me take care of you,” you roll your hips a little. “It’s your birthday, after all.”

Toji looks almost like he’s going to protest, but ultimately takes his bottom lip between his teeth and nods; letting you slide up on his cock just to drop yourself back down. “Fuck, I–” 

He trails off, eyes screwed chut, and you lean forward to kiss the subtle curve of his nose. “You what?”

“I missed you,” his eyes are glossed when he opens them again to meet yours. You only get a glimpse of them before you’re pressing your lips to his in lieu of a million things you want to say to him. “Fucking missed you.”

Pulling away, you lift your hips up, feel the drag of his cock leaving you empty before you drop back down again and make the both of you moan in tandem with each other. Your eyes lock, his start to pool with tears. You can’t tell if he’s overwhelmed or upset or starting to be fucked so dumb he’s gone soft on you—but regardless, it’s a sight that tightens your beating heart.

You quicken your pace, revel in the way he fills you up: how he completes you. Your knees dig into the spring-loaded mattress as you ride his cock like you used to all that time ago. Every squeeze of your cunt around him makes the poor man choke a little on his breath, though you don’t slow down, not even when the tears start to fall. His cheekbones are painted glossy with his tears and, in favour of wiping them away, you dip down and lick a long strip up his cheek to taste the salt of his emotions on his tongue. It’s only fair, your taste still lingers on his. 

“I don’t like seeing you cry,” you whisper, kissing gently at his wet lashline. He grounds himself with his hands on your hips and takes a shaky breath in at the kisses you press across his tear-streaked face. He doesn’t try to hide his vulnerability—he knows there’s no point around you. Not when you’ve seen every broken part of him and still kissed him with a gentleness that stung more than any injury could.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs as you ride him. “You do this to me.”

You slow your movements just enough to offer a reprieve, the steady roll of your hips becoming languid, deliberate. “I don’t mean to,” you reply softly, your lips brushing against his as you speak. 

Toji huffs out something between a laugh and a sob. “Liar. You always know what you’re doing.”

You let out a small breathy laugh and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. You start your pace up again, even faster than before: your thighs burn with the effort, but it’s worth it to see him unravel beneath you.

His head falls back against the pillow, exposing the column of his neck, and a low, desperate moan slips past his lips. He grips your thighs, but there’s no force behind his touch—only a trembling need as he lets you take control.

“You’re so good like this, letting me take care of you.”

His breath hitches, and his hands tighten on your thighs. “I—fuck, I can’t—” He’s rambling now, his words slurring as his breath becomes laboured and his hips start to thrust skywards into you. “Please—don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Shh,” you soothe, your hands sliding down to lace your fingers with his, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “I’ve got you. Just let go, Toji.”

Wholly at your mercy, Toji screws his beautiful eyes shut and nods. Each heave from his chest stokes the flames that coil in your stomach  in desperate hopes of a release. He’s first to teeter over the edge of pleasure, with a wild thrust up into you and a very raw moan, or sob, that rips straight from his throat, he cums. He fills you up and, for only a moment, you’re thrown back a year into the past and this is any other night spent together. The heat of him, the sheer force of his climax, pushes you to your own precipice.

You follow him into oblivion soon after, your back arching and your head falling back as your orgasm crashes through you. The muscles of your core tighten around him, drawing out his pleasure even as yours consumes you in wave after wave of white-hot ecstasy. You milk him for all he has, every last drop of release that you’re greedy enough to take within you.

When the storm passes, you collapse onto his chest. The both of you are sheened with sweat and the cum that leaks from your cunt around his cock and it’s messy and sticky and domestic in a way you can’t explain. The rain outside starts to taper off, but you’ll use the weather as an excuse to stay the night regardless. You doubt Toji would let you leave even if you tried. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“I love you.” you reply. 

You don’t know what will happen come morning. The two of you are from two very different worlds now, but Toji’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head. You can feel his heart beat, you can hear each intake of breath, you’re connected to him physically and, in a way, spiritually as well. 

You’re in his bed, the one that was once also yours. You’re safe, feeling nostalgic, and Toji Fushiguro is warm. Much warmer than any insulated townhouse.

taglist: @jadeis0nline @feelingfaye @sooouth @lavenderdaydream97 @kyiyoko

@gojoscinnamonroll @loafteaw @echodead @aldebrana @aviesnapkindoodles

@acrazybiotch374 @jaehyunberries @sophi-anna @pissibly @florallyarranged

@toruswrld @mikasasgfs @gojosbedwarmer @sugubear @hellokittyish

@enananshinonome431 @wizardzvi @ladytamayolover @xixflower @akamci

@luvvshazel @bozos-r-us @madamechrissy

[anonity]

paige bueckers' girlfriend

wc: 2600 summary: the phone case launch.. but written a/n: took longer to finish than i meant 😩 i forgot i was going home tomorrow and had to pack. tried to fit as many requests in as i could! (i found the phone case for this fic just in case anyone was curious)

the fudd household is warm even as flakes of snow fall outside, a product of both the woodburning stove and the warm body sprawled across azzi’s legs.

it’s hard to imagine paige anywhere else during the holidays – azzi’s memories of christmas without a blonde in her lap are faint. it’s one of the many, many perks of dating your best friend – they’ve never really had to experience life without the other. 

unfortunately, when your best friend is paige bueckers, there is one downside. fangirls.

azzi is scrolling through redbubble when she sees it – a phone case, white except for loopy pink lettering that reads “paige bueckers’ girlfriend.” 

azzi is completely scandalized. because as far as she’s aware, there is only one position available in that department, and it has been filled since freshman year. really, it’s been filled since they met. 

paige has one girlfriend. and it is azzi fudd. 

this can’t slide.

she huffs once, loud and dramatic enough for paige to hear, but her head doesn’t move from azzis lap. she’s watching a hockey game on her ipad, and there are very few things that will tear paige away from said ipad when there is a game on.

so azzi huffs again, as attention-seekingly as she can muster, and paige finally glances up. “wassup, mama?”

paige is good at using pet names to delay consequences – they’re like little distractions, sprinkled into conversation so that azzi forgets about little things like paige ignoring her for a hockey game.

when azzi doesn’t respond, paige nearly asks again. her mouth opens in confusion, maybe even worried she’d missed something actually important, but then her ipad buzzes. They both glance down, scanning the airdrop notification: Azzi’s Phone wants to share 1 photo.

paiges head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips as if this might be something dirty, and she looks up at azzi with her eyebrows raised. azzi rolls her eyes in response – leave it to paige to never be turned off. “just accept it,” she groans.

the second paige does, a screenshot of the phone case in all of its glory takes over her hockey game. paige barks a laugh, loud and surprised at the intrusion. “az, what the hell is this?”

azzi rolls her eyes, gesturing to the ipad like they aren’t both already looking at it. “your lil fangirls are confused about how many girlfriends you have.”

azzi’s joking now, but one wrong sentence and paige is in the dog house. she must tread carefully. 

“they’re definitely overestimating,” paige agrees.

satisfied with that response, azzi leans back into the sofa with mock-irritation. “i think they’re underestimating how much i can bench,” she complains. “i’m gonna have to whoop somebody's ass.”

“nobody underestimates how much you bench, baby,” paige responds. she stretches back for extra emphasis, wrapping three fingers around azzis bicep and squeezing. “swear, look at that. god damn–”

azzi snorts, ducking her head in embarrassment.. “paige,” she chastises, even though her laughter overshadows any actual irritation.  it’s stupid how pleased she is whenever paige reassures her, especially over something unimportant. “its not funny.”

the room quiets for a second, the way it always does before paige says something particularly annoying. and then, unsurprisingly, her mouth opens. “imma buy it for you.”

“don’t, paige,” azzi giggles, even though it’s really not funny. paige is a PR nightmare. “CD would die.”

“CD will love it,” paige assures, already copying the users handle. “we’re supporting small businesses.”

azzi watches her, helplessly fond even as paige clicks add to cart. it’s not like she’s going to use it.

azzi had not planned on using the phone case. in fact, said phone case has sat unused on her bedside table since her and paige had returned from christmas break. 

a lot has changed since christmas – they’re national champions now, and paige is in dallas, just to name a few. but one thing has stayed the same: the phone case? untouched. nothing more than tangled legs and quiet laughter. 

that is, until azzi gets as close as she possibly can to hard launching their relationship, and there are still tweets stuttering out the words former teammates. 

it’s honestly diabolical. and while over christmas break their college careers were kind of a concern, there are no rules in the UCONN Husky handbook about dating former teammates. something paige has recently become. 

so, for shits and giggles on a friday night, azzi fudd switches her phone case out for one that reads paige bueckers’ girlfriend. 

her intention is only to ruffle some feathers. to quietly but clearly stake her claim. take a few photos with a strategically placed iphone in hand, let it appear in the background of some videos – really just remind everyone that paige bueckers only has one actual girlfriend.

now, the uconn team is heading down the halls of mohegan sun, chattering quietly and discussing dinner plans. 

KK notices before the national media does – whether the media or KK is worse is still up for debate. her eye catches on the phone dangling from azzis hand and she grins, delighted. “girl, boo. are you even allowed to have that?”

azzi’s confused for all of two seconds, and then her gaze follows KK’s. “we’re former teammates,” she states matter-of-factly. they both know its bullshit — azzi had arrived 45 minutes late and two travel bags lighter that morning.

(she’d argued it wasn’t a walk of shame if she left in different clothes, even though the “different clothes” were paiges jersey and cargos.)

“you guys are super subtle,” KK deadpans.

for the rest of the night, azzi is super subtle about it. she walks down the seats of the stadium without fuss (although she does make sure that her hand is low enough for the lettering to be read). she sits casually, nonchalantly, phone sitting case-up in her lap. 

unfortunately, the night passes without drama. it appears no one actually sees the phone case – unless you count two girls across their row, one of which had blatantly squinted and then elbowed her friend. 

regardless of the sightings, there are no images (that azzi is aware of) to spread the news. with all of the huskies in the stands, security had tightened considerably, and there’d been exactly zero fans able to approach for a photo.

(although azzi did have one fan pass a phone case down for her to sign. KK had suggested she trade them, but they’d quickly decided that would be a tad overkill.)

the post-game plan is even more nonchalant. they’re going to run down, grab a few team pictures, be totally besties, and then head back to storrs. 

although, as they make their way down to the gym floor and paige catches her eye, azzi feels that nervous buzzing in her stomach. 

every time her and paige are around each other in public, that awkward, crushing teenager feeling returns. she imagines paige feels the same — it’s kind of difficult to turn off the whole touchy-girlfriends thing in public, and the tense awareness of hundreds of eyes only makes them overthink each interaction more. am i being chill enough? too chill? 

azzi stands off to the side as paige greets the rest of the team, trying not to fiddle or look like she’s been walking around with undiagnosed ADHD. 

when the arena is finally mostly empty, paige approaches, a lazy smile taking over her face. the second she’s in touching distance, azzi wraps her hands around paiges waist and buries her head in her neck. she breathes in the scent of her #1 pick and paige lets her, head coming to lay on azzi’s shoulder and tug her just a little closer. perhaps they can meld together, and azzi won’t have to leave for storrs.

physics does not decide to give them an exception. they pull away when KK makes a loud gagging noise behind them, and paige rolls her eyes affectionately. “you’re just mad your girlfriends not in your jersey,” paige says, tugging on the material. 

KK grins. “oh, she’s got more than just your jersey, P.”

paige squints. azzi’s forehead creases – she’s been so wrapped up in seeing paige again she’s completely forgotten the phone case, and it isn’t until this moment that paige sees it.

“what the hell is that?” she laughs, eyes wide with both horror and giddiness. “i can’t even believe you kept that thing!”

azzi giggles back, delighted, and holds her phone case up with a dimpled grin. “isn’t it great?”

“i can’t believe they even let you bring that.”

“i don’t think anyone saw it,” azzi replies. “security wouldn’t even let people come up to us.”

paige raises an eyebrow. “that’s their job, az.”

“i know,” azzi sighs, as if she’s deeply troubled by the whole ordeal. “they’re just really interrupting my soft launch plans.”

paige laughs, throwing an arm around her shoulder like the two minutes they haven’t been touching is too long. “my phones pretty quiet,” she says, “so, prob’ly no one saw it. crisis averted.”

azzi hums, briefly considering the idea that there would be a crisis if someone had seen the phone case. she then responds quietly, “unfortunately.”

paige raises an eyebrow, smile ever-present in the orbit of her girlfriend. “what do you mean, unfortunately?”

“i mean, unfortunately i’m going to have to take this into my own hands.”

azzi fudd’s hobbies include basketball, reading, calling paige, and soft launching their relationship on random saturdays.

to her credit, she waits an entire day before she actually takes matters into her own hands – but when the internet is disappointingly quiet about her phone case, she has no other choice.

hayley is fixing her hair when the idea hits her. they’re chattering about life — basketball, her next sponsor, the upcoming mystics game. hayley hums and runs a comb through the ends of azzis hair, resting one hand on her shoulder to look in the mirror. “soo.. after tonight, you doing anything fun?”

azzi catches her eye in the reflection and grins. “depends on how many people are texting me.”

“why would people be texting you?”

it’s then that azzi flips her phone around, screen facing the mirror, and showcases her perfectly legible paige bueckers’ girlfriend phone in all of it’s redbubble-custom glory. “oh my God,” hayley suddenly laughs, leaning forward like the text might morph into something else. it’s honestly nearly impossible to miss, bold lettering on white background. “that cannot be real. where did you even get that?”

azzi smiles, self-satisifed. “paige bought it for me.”

hayley gasps. “stop it.” 

azzi nods her head vigorously, biting down on her bottom lip to stop the delighted grin already overtaking her face again. “she told me not to use it.”

“and you already did,” hayley says, pointing an accusatory comb in the mirror. 

“duh,” azzi replies. “nobody even got to see it, though,” she adds, sighing wistfully. “i don’t even think twitter saw it.”

“seriously?”

azzi nods vehemently. the chances of twitter missing anything are seriously low. but alas, here azzi is, with a dreadfully quiet phone.

and then she thinks – a dangerous action for azzi fudd.

“we should take a picture.”

“with the phone case?”

“in the mirror.”

“ooooohhhh,” hayley nods, smile widening. “i get it.”

azzi crosses her legs, uncrosses them, and then crosses them again, inspecting herself in the mirror. “i’ll tag you,” she offers, offhandedly. 

“i don’t want tagged in your relationship drama,” hayley grins. “i’m going to get one of paiges managers in my DMs.”

“you wooooont” azzi groans. “you’re gonna be my excuse.”

“you’re conniving.”

“i’m being smart,” azzi defends. “i’m gonna tag you for doing my hair and if people happen to notice—“

“it’s neon pink, az.”

“happen to notice,” azzi emphasizes. they both break off into giggles, and then azzi straightens in her seat. “okay, lets do this.”

azzi shifts again, looking for a good angle. changes the way her phone is pointing, tries to decide if she wants it to be easy to read or leave part of the text to the imagination. 

she sees hayley raise an eyebrow in the mirror. “you good?”

azzi shuffles. “i’m nervous,” she admits. it sounds silly, girlish coming out of her mouth, but she’s being real. “this shits gonna go viral.”

hayley nods slowly like she’s pondering, and then she looks away from the mirror to see azzi eye-to-eye. “except everybody already knows you’re dating.”

azzi sputters. “that is not true—“

“that dinner tiktok had like a million likes.”

“okay but—“

“az. for real.” hayley huffs, going back to absentmindedly dragging through azzis curls. “if you wanna do it, do it.”

azzi hums. considers. and then decides. “okay, you’re right. lets do it.”

the picture, when posted, is casual. her legs are crossed and hayley smiles behind her like she’s in on a joke. which, she kind of is.  

azzi decided to completely forgo being subtle — a blind animal should be able to read the paige bueckers’ girlfriend on her phone case. 

a minute passes.

azzi had put her phone on do not disturb the second she’d posted — it’s her adult version of throwing her phone across the room. but one person can get through her DND, and her phone buzzes now. 

paige 💗is calling…

azzi looks back at hayley, guiltily, who returns the stare with tight, barely concealed laughter.  

then paifes voice cuts in. “azzi.”

“hi, baby,” azzi says sweetly. her phone buzzes again, paige requesting to facetime, and azzi reluctantly accepts it. when she does, paige is (thankfully) smiling. her azzi-fudd reserved smile. azzis shoulders slump. not in trouble. 

paige raises both eyebrows, eyes wide as she stares at azzi. “you tryna start some rumors?”

“they were already started,” azzi grins back. 

“riiiight..” paige drawls. “i think people are freaking out.”

“what makes you think that?”

“i got a text about your post before i saw your post,” paige deadpans. “and i literally have your notifications on.”

azzi giggles, feeling quite self-satisfied. “i told you i had to do something about it.”

“i thought you’d like — like a tiktok edit or something,” paige jokes. “we’re gonna be on overtime.”

“you’re always on overtime,” azzi points out, helpfully. 

paige just stares back, looking fond and in love. “you looked pretty.”

“you’re just saying that because i have your name on my phone,” azzi laughs. 

“well, i’m not saying it didn’t help,” paige responds, head tilted. from anyone else's point of view, it would be an absolutely disgusting display of affection. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” azzi says. 

hayley finally announces her presence, interrupting their discussion with an, “i hate you guys.”

paige groans from the phone. “you didn’t tell me anyone was thereee,” she complains. “now i look like a softie.”

“that was never in question for me, paige,” hayley laughs, peeking over azzi’s shoulder to look at her. “i had to listen to you all draft night.”

paige rolls her eyes, even as azzi laughs. “aight, you’re fired bruh.” then she looks back over to azzi, her eyes crinkled in the way that they do when she’s trying not to look too smitten. she fails. 

“alright,” she sighs. “i’m gonna hang up so you can make my girlfriend look really good.” and then, after a pause, adds, “call me after?”

“always,” azzi nods, so quietly that hayley pretends not to hear it. 

the call ends. 

hayley lets them sit in the quiet for all of five seconds. then she inhales deeply and reaches for a new section of hair. “alright,” she says, effectively dragging azzi back to reality. “lets fix your hair so you can go stress your agents out.”

and as azzi finally swipes her notification bar open, eyes scanning over all of her group chats and dm’s — she just smiles. 

[jjjjisun]

My Playmate, My Sister (Part 3)

Hanni X Irene X Male Reader | 14429 words

TW: Incest

—

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

—

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Book commissions here.

—

Hanni was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen; more than that, she was smoking hot. Her adorable facial features, soft blonde hair, fantastic personality, and many other attributes made her beautiful. Her breath-taking body, her breasts, that sexy way she walked, the way she teased me, that's what made her hot.

Hanni had returned from "school" only a few weeks before, and before she did, she had been, first and foremost, my sister. Now, that hadn't changed; we still shared that same love for each other, and I felt I needed to protect her as I always had. However, after the last two nights, we shared, sharing each other, and things deepened between us, and we agreed it was for the better. Hanni had always been a great sister, and we had always been very open with each other; talking about our romantic interests and often touching lightly upon the involved sexual activity was rarely out of the question. But this was a new type of openness; she was my sister and a fantastic lover.

I had seen Hanni on the cover of Playboy, her first shoot with them happening to catch my glance as I walked through a local convenience store. I had seen her in gallery upon gallery of subsequent photo shoots for the magazine, completely naked and sprawled out for me to see. I knew it wasn't just for me, and so did Playboy because they were planning on making her Playmate of the Year for all the success her nakedness had brought them. But when Hanni got home, what I saw was just for me; her sexiness and the perfection she'd brought to the pages of the world-famous magazine was within my grasp. Something clicked between the two of us, and whether it was the way I could not take my eyes off of her or the security and comfort she found in being in her brother's arms, I do not know. However, I know one thing now: I am the luckiest brother in the world.

It isn't all so romantic; having the cute little playmate around me and constantly recalling the feeling of being inside her and the desire to do so again is far from that. But can I be blamed? I mean, it's like everything she does plays right into my desire for her. From how she squeezes my leg as she lifts herself out of the car to the bouncy strut she pulls off as she crosses the causeway onto the boat... like I said, I couldn't take my eyes off her. As we made our way to the sailboat we'd agreed to take a trip on when our parents interrupted what was going to be a sex-filled week for the both of us, even the traveling outfit she wore had me at half-mast all day long. As I watched her checking out the boat from top to bottom, squealing at its more luxurious features, I took her in greedily.

That first day, she wore jean shorts that could have been painted on. Her cute butt taunted me as she leaned over the side rail and looked down at the cool blue water. If our parents and their friends hadn't been right there, I would have come up behind her and let us both feel my hips against hers as I pinned her against the rail. Above the shorts was a cropped, loose, and transparent top that hung over one shoulder at an angle, displaying the soft skin of her shoulder and neck and, of course, the sexy, muscular midsection that I couldn't get enough of. Under the top was a pink bikini, or maybe it was a bra... either way, it pushed her breasts up just so and even though I'd held them naked and complete in my hands, I felt like I'd never seen them before hidden underneath layers of clothing I just wanted to tear off.

She knew it too. Hanni smiled at me with every chance she got, and even wiggled her butt at me when she knew the others weren't looking. A few times, she'd catch my eye and then reach down to adjust her top, shaking her beautiful tits in place and pushing them up further; I had to sit down and catch my breath when she did that. She spent the few hours we took preparing the boat as an opportunity to drive me crazy over her. By the time we finally cast off and were leaving the harbor it was all I could do not to grab her tiny frame in my arm and drag her downstairs to fuck her silly for all the trouble she'd put me through.

But we finally cast off and got out to sea, and things calmed down a bit. We sat on soft, colorful cushions in the stern of the boat with the sail billowing above us and a cool breeze brushing back the wisps of hair that had fallen from behind Hanni's ear. Hanni draped my arm over her innocently, and we chatted about everything under the sun with the adults. When it came to Hanni's college life, I had to play it extremely cool, knowing that she hadn't told anyone from home about her work with Playboy. But we made it through and chatted as the luxurious sailboat cut through the ocean waves and out further and further until land was only a dot on the horizon.

Hanni was hands-down the hottest female under the Pacific sun that day if you asked me, but that wasn't really a fair contest, and another woman aboard was giving her some competition. The man my parents had been invited aboard was an old work friend of my dad's and his new wife. My dad and his friend Jinwoo were successful partners at a law firm and had done very well for themselves, including the women they had married. My parents were getting older, though still in great shape. Jinwoo was much the same: a good-looking guy with a kind disposition and salt-and-pepper gray hair that, combined with the apparent wealth, had brought him Irene. Irene seemed to be a great wife for him, loving and trustworthy, but obviously, that wasn't the only reason he'd chosen her for the long haul.

Irene was young, probably only in her early thirties, and didn't even look that. She had long, wavy black hair. Jinwoo was proud of marrying her, and I'd heard him boasting about his sex life with the gorgeous brunette to my dad on more than one occasion - sure, he was a generous guy, but as money often does to people, he was also kind of a tool. Still, I thought 'good for him' as I saw him not-so-innocently holding his wife against him in their place across from me. I might have even found myself desiring her if I didn't have the soft skin of my sister pressed against my shirtless torso, reminding me that there was nothing more desirable than her. When Jinwoo playfully grabbed at Irene's thigh, I glanced over at Hanni, and when our eyes met, I knew their antics were turning her on.

Irene stood up at one point (I couldn't help but notice that she had a great body as I saw her stretch in front of us) and invited Hanni to help her get drinks:

"Hey girlfriend, want to help me throw some margaritas together for everybody?"

In her usually bubbly tone, Hanni responded, "Sure, Irene, lead the way."

As they headed below deck I watched both of their bikini covered asses swish back and forth on their way to the hatch and then disappear. When they returned, I was blessed with the view of their front. Irene was not as alluring to me as Hanni, but she was just right in her sexy way. Hanni must have caught me checking out Irene because she gave me a squinty, knowing look as she sat down and handed me the slushy drink. We chatted some more, and Hanni kept up her antics. She scooted closer into me and licked her lips when I looked at her; she was unbearable.

By the time Irene suggested that we drop anchor and go for a swim as the sun set, I was completely stiff and struggling to position my penis so that it didn't bare itself for anyone to see. Hanni knew of course, and even wrapped as much of her hand around it as she could when we were the last ones on deck before she hopped in the water. I was going to teach her a lesson that night for sure.

We waded in the water, with more back-and-forth chatter and a floating tray of drinks between us. Everyone stayed pretty warm in the cool water, with all the alcohol being passed around. Hardly anyone noticed when Hanni challenged me to a race and took off before I could say yes, heading for the front of the boat. I caught up to her and grabbed her ankle, pulling her tiny frame back and feeling it brush along as I passed her.

She screamed, "Cheater!" as I swam to the front of the boat and made contact with it before she could. I looked at her with boastful pride as she paddled the rest of the distance to me, defeated. I grabbed her hand and helped her float next to me; she was tired from the swim.

"That's not fair," Hanni complained.

"I'll tell you what's not fair..."

Now, we were concealed from the view of our parents, Irene and Jinwoo, at the front of the boat. I could still hear them laughing and bantering as I lifted Hanni's hands over her head to a bar in the railing. She held them there, lifted ever so slightly out of the water.

"What's not fair is all the teasing you've been doing all day and the fact that I could do nothing about it. That's not fair."

She was stretched out in front of me, and her legs wrapped around me, helping me to float there and pulling me closer to her. So much skin...so much of her flawless body was on display for me, and her beautiful stomach, the subtle protrusion of her ribcage from her lifted arms...I was in heaven.

"What will you do about it, bro?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

I took both hands and planted them firmly on either side of her waist, sending them upwards and hearing her breathe out sexily in appreciation. It was answer enough for her and she approved further when I pushed the tip of my cock against her mound. Even covered in hers and my bathing suits, it was apparent that her head was indenting lightly into her, and if it wasn't, then her involuntary gasp proved it.

"Oh God... this is so naughty with them right over there....just like when you..." I thrust again "Ooohh Oppa..... just like when you fucked me in the car last night."

"Just like I'm going to tonight..." I told her, holding my hands over her breasts and massaging them.

"Mmmm, how about right now?" she tested.

I looked into her eyes, searching to see whether she was serious. I mean, our little secret fuck in the car was risky in itself, but only 30 feet away in broad daylight were four people that could catch us and make for a very awkward sailing trip. She looked serious.

"I don't know about that..." I said.

I knew we were taking too many risks; there was so much to lose, and I didn't think I could stand having Hanni any way other than she was to me now. Hanni knew too, but she seemed too entranced in our foreplay to give it much thought. It may have been risky, but her body just felt terrific in my greedy hands, and Hanni was more than loving the attention. I kept repeating the pressure between her pussy lips and Hanni cooed a few times at the stimulation of her thin bottoms grinding against her clit. My resolve was chipping away by the second...

I heard one of the adults laugh loudly at a joke on the other side of the boat, and it caught Hanni's attention. As she looked in their direction, I promptly took advantage of her distraction and swiped simultaneously at the strings behind her neck and torso. Hanni scoffed and tried to reach for her sui,t but I was too fast. I locked one hand around the fingers of her left hand, holding it immutably against the rail above. The other pulled her top away so fast she couldn't even come close to grabbing it back with her right hand.

"You are ridiculous," she said, looking at me sideways, but I was hardly paying attention.

With her hand over her head her tits hung spectacularly, glistening from the water and high on her chest. I could see her muscles stretching to hold her up, from her flat tummy that disappeared into the water below up to her neck. Dear God, I'll never see a more beautiful sight than that in my entire life.

"Like what you see? Mmmm..." she sighed when I took her hanging breast into my hand and caressed it gently with the tips of my fingers. My fingernails grazed the skin, and then I just held her breast in my hand, feeling her goose bumps against my palm with my fingers on her perky pink nipple. I'd never felt anything so amazing before I swore to myself, and this wasn't the first time I'd had my hands wrapped around her perfect chest. Hanni just kept getting better and better, and I wanted to make love to her right there with our parents and their friends so dangerously close.

"Jesus Hanni, I swear you're the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

"Awww... you're so sweet ...mmmhh... And just think, I'm all yours..." she whispered, positively glowing from my compliment. She probably knew how I felt before I'd said it; my cock had grown even more enormous and complicated as I continued to prod at her covered slit with it gently. Hanni maneuvered her free hand so that her palm lay against my strong abs, and then she pushed it downward and painfully slowly. Under the waistband of my shorts, it went down further...until only her thumb and forefinger were touching the base of my stiff shaft.

I cringed; the feeling of her tiny hand on my steel-hard rod was phenomenal. I brought my head down to her chest, holding one of her soft breasts up and taking her nipple into my lips.

"Oooh, be careful! I'm really sensitive there," she shrieked. I backed off only slightly, trailing my tongue around the tiny areola before circling the erect little nub. Hanni was breathing harder, and it made me happy for her to enjoy my worship of her chest. As I finally took the whole nipple into my mouth and then sucked at it gently, Hanni wrapped around as much of my cock as she could get her hand on in one swift motion.

"I'm sensitive there too, ahhhh," I mocked. As I said it, Hanni firmly stroked up and down on my shaft, wrapping her palm around my head before she returned her encircling fingers to my base once again. We were like teenagers; neither of us could get enough of each other fast enough as we'd been able to display painfully little affection all day. I kept sucking at erect nipple, and more aggressively now. Eventually, I began pinching it between my front teeth just enough to get her calling my name between deep breaths:

"... oh, Oppa..... If you keep doing that... ugh... I think I might..."

I was still grinding the tip of my cock into the depression in her bottoms that my efforts were making. My tip was now just entering her, impeded by our clothing but pleasing due to the cool water around us. She ensured I was lined up just right as she slid her hand up and down my prodding staff. She was loving it and as her panting picked up and I was stimulating both her nipples and clit I knew that I'd send her into climax soon. Hell, a few minutes more, and I would probably release a gallon of sperm into the water between us.

"gotta be.... OOohhhhH..... quiet," she was tryin tog talk herself into keeping silent but wasn't succeeding all that well. Her attention to my cock faltered but I couldn't have cared less; the gorgeous little playmate's orgasm was all I was focused on and I felt I owed it to her to...

"Y/N....... Hanni!" he sounded concerned. My dad was calling out our names from the other side of the boat. I hadn't even considered that they would worry about us after we had swum off and not returned.

"Yeah, Dad?" I answered, my head settled just an inch or less inside my sister; she was still heaving and didn't stop her attempts to keep my cock massaging her pussy.

"Where's Hanni?" He was yelling over the boat.

"I'm here, Daddy!" I was honestly surprised to hear her pull it together enough to respond.

"What are you guys doing? I don't want you drowning on my watch.

"We were just...mmmh," she was still so aroused and had only slightly come down. "Playing daddy... jeez we're not kids anymore." She squeezed my shaft as she said it.

"Alright, well, come on back over. We've got margaritas waiting for you!" He had no idea.

Hanni slumped into my arms, and I held us up with a hand still gripping the boat. She managed a few more frustrated thrusts against me before she gave in and looked into my eyes. They were so beautiful, even with disappointment for being held back and having been so close. A deep and mesmerizing combination of cool grey and lively green, they peered into me, and I was lost in her. Hanni's naked chest felt terrific against my chest and shoulders, bringing me out of my haze. We cuddled for a few too-short moments while Hanni accepted that I couldn't give her what she wanted unless we wanted to be found out.

She turned around, and I helped her wrap the tiny bikini top back around her, happily pausing to make sure the cups were supporting her breasts in the right way. My hands took their last chance to hold on to the pliable flesh before tying her strings and taking her back to the water. She shot me a glance that told me she knew exactly what I was after and then headed toward our parents. Even how she swam back, cutting through the water like a true athlete, added to her complete and utter prowess and perfection.

We returned to the circle and couldn't risk looking too longingly at each other, though we desperately wanted to—and a lot more than that. Nobody was the wiser, I comfortably assured myself. We chatted until the sun was only a glowing memory beneath the horizon and then climbed back on the deck. Hanni grabbed my arm and pulled me back from the group.

"Did you see Irene?" Her eyes were wide.

I thought I had been caught checking out the 30-something-year-old hottie, so I tried to deny it: "What... who... Oh her, yeah, she seems nice."

"No, silly," Hanni rolled her eyes. I know she's hot; I wouldn't blame you if you thought so. I mean, did you see the way she was looking at us?"

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about," I told her, concerned.

"She was staring at me pretty strangely. I think she knows what's up."

"No way, how could she? We were quiet, and it's not like we gave ourselves away before then..."

Just then, like clockwork, Irene popped her head around the corner. We were leaned over the edge of the boat inconspicuously, so it didn't make me nervous that she was seeing us together.

"Hey guys, so you want a burger or a brat?" she asked.

We both told her what we wanted and then relaxed a bit, she was being pretty normal for someone Hanni had just suspected of knowing I'd had my cock rubbing against my sister's pussy.

"Oh, and by the way, honey," she said quieter now, her grin speaking volumes as she said, "I think your top is inside out."

Hanni and I looked down simultaneously, and Irene disappeared around the corner. It wouldn't jump out at you if you weren't looking for it, but it was obvious. Hanni's suit was inside out, and Irene had noticed it after we returned from our little disappearance, hence the weird looks to Hanni.

"Oh god, do you think mom and dad noticed?" Hanni asked with fear in her eyes.

"No way. We got out of the water last, and they would have definitely said something. Irene must have seen it when we were swimming back. Mom and Dad were turned away from us then." I tried to comfort her, but it wasn't really working.

"Do you think she'll tell?" Hanni was only slightly less worried.

"No, she seems too cool to go making accusations like that." I retorted

"That's true, and I swear she was trying to coax something out of me when she told me she thought you were hot earlier."

I smiled widely, and my heart jumped when she said that. It felt pretty good that a beautiful woman like Irene thought I was handsome or 'hot,' as Hanni had said.

"Oh, you're unbelievable," Hanni slapped my arm. "I guess you can have her for the rest of this trip the," she said as she turned away from me.

"Oh, come on, Hanni!" I pulled at her sid,e but she didn't lean into me like she usually did. "She's got nothing on you. I can't walk around this boat without a huge bulge in my shorts with you in that bikini. It's torture not being able to show you and tell you every second how attracted to you I am!"

She looked over her shoulder at me, pouting but clearly affected by my compliment. I slipped my hand around her waist and felt the band of her bikini tickle my fingertips as they brushed over her hipbones. My hand rested on her tummy, only briefly with the knowledge of our shipmates only feet away. Hanni rotated in my grasp, my fingers trailing around her as she turned face to face with me and pushed in close. She glanced toward the direction of our parents, scanning to see if we were in sight of them. When she was satisfied nobody was watching, she stood up on her toes, the soles of her feet stretching and her back arching to bring her to the right height she planted a soft kiss on my lips. She lingered for only a second or two with her eyes looking right at the lips she'd just kissed, and then I watched my sister walk off around the corner and sit down like nothing had happened.

I followed a moment later (after the bulge in my trunks had settled to a manageable level) and sat down across from her. The last rays of sun skimmed over her long legs, crossed sexily and hanging down toward the wooden deck. I can hardly remember what we talked about now for the hour or so we sat around eating and chatting, Hanni's kiss and the many events of the day had me swimming in my own thoughts and fantasies. I imagined that nobody was there, and I crossed the gap between me and my little playmate sister, pinning her against the plush white cushions and ripping off her clothes.

The only thing to distract me was the delicious food...that and the way Irene had handed it off to me. I had been keeping an eye on her as she fidgeted around in front of the hot grill, scratching her leg with a raised foot here and tossing her hair around. She may have been married but she had not lost a hint of her youth and verve. Her swaying about while preparing our dinner already had me at alert, so when I saw her reach down and obviously fluff her tits in her striped bikini I was finding myself growing stiff already. Then she approached me with a plate of food and came closer than I expected; I was frozen to her. She leaned in, handing me the plate and lingering, bent over at the waist and setting it down on the table beside me. Her breasts were hanging magnificently, the flesh struggling against her top. Just before she stood up she caught my gaze and I knew that she'd seen what I was looking at. I'd have been mortified at being caught red-handed if the look in her eyes and upon her lips wasn't one of subtle mischief.

When the sun had gone all the way down, Jinwoo showed us the beautiful television screen that ascended from a hidden panel in the stern of the boat behind the mini-bar. The seats on the deck were also perfectly set up for viewing the movie he was about to put on: some romantic comedy to please the ladies on their first night aboard. Jinwoo opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out some thick, woven blankets, tossing one each to the couples and apologizing to Hanni and I that he didn't have one for each of us.

"They can share honey," Irene interjected quickly, "right guys?"

"Yeah it's no problem, sir, thanks!" Hanni said happily and tossed the blanket over both of us.

"Please Hanni, call me Jinwoo, Mr. makes me feel like my dad," Jinwoo joked while Hanni settled down and spread the blanket out over us.

The sun was all the way down now, and a light breeze ruffled Hanni's hair gently with her head laid upon my shoulder. She giggled when a few strands caught in my mouth and I spit them back out; I nudged her head to get her back. There was only the sound of the movie and the ocean breeze gently clanging a jib or a hook somewhere on deck. It was a beautiful night to be cozied up with my secret playmate, both the most gorgeous girl I'd ever made love to and my very own sister.

I was still half-mast myself from all of Irene's antics and the desire for my sister I'd been unable to act out all day. As I worked my hand to the inside of Hanni's thigh she wasted no time in finding my hardness through the outside of my shorts.

"Hmmmm....." she whispered in my ear, "you really like this movie huh...?"

"Oh Hanni...." I whispered back as Hanni ran her hand over the outline of my shaft and head.

She then began untying my strings, and the anticipation nearly killed me as I felt her working the laces through the holes to allow her easier access. When she'd finally got it she stopped once more to hold my cock through the fabric. All the while her efforts were concealed by the blanket over us. I looked around, nervous. 'God this is dangerous,' I thought, but I was in no state to object. By the time Hanni finally decided to free me from my fabric confines, I was so hard I thought I was going to rip my suit.

She traced her fingers from the bottom of my pole to the top in one, long stroke; her fingers were barely making contact. When she reached the top she equally slowly encircled me with her whole hand and then pushed it downward in one smooth stroke. It was unbelievable, something told me I couldn't even hope to do better myself. Hanni's nimble fingers, cooler than my red-hot member, felt glorious holding me like they were. I looked down to Hanni who's head was still nestled against me. She turned and planted a little kiss on my shoulder before looking back to the television to keep up our pretended innocence.

The pleasure was building and Hanni began to stroke me more hastily. I struggled to keep a straight face in case my parents were to turn around and look our way. They were dozing off together; my worries about them abated. I then turned my gaze toward Irene and Jinwoo. Jinwoo looked to be distracted with his phone and...............Irene was staring right at us.

Hanni was pumping me quickly now, and a close observer would see the blanket shivering atop us. Irene was a close observer; she didn't take her eyes off us as I neared orgasm. I knew I should tell Hanni that we were being watched....I knew....oh God, her hand was just stroking me so amazingly. Hanni had no idea that Irene could see her jerking her brother's cock under the blanket, and I was too consumed with her touch to risking jeopardizing it. I couldn't....I couldn't let this end before Hanni finished me off. Hanni was grinning as she looked directly toward the screen; she loved how she could feel my body flexing and relaxing and my cock pulsing in her hand. She wasn't the only one smiling though; Irene across the deck was watching the two of us, grinning naughtily and ignoring both her husband and the movie.

She made eye contact with me and raised her eyebrows, I knew we were had, but I could tell that Irene was far from giving us up. She licked her lips and stared at the two of us, brother and sister, nuzzled beneath the blanket her husband had given us and doing something very taboo.

I was close now. My hand was rubbing at Hanni's inner thigh more strongly, grasping at her tight skin and brushing back and forth across her covered mound. Hanni stroked faster, faster...up and down went her tiny hand. My balls ached for release and Hanni pumped above them to bring it. She grasped tighter, stimulating my sensitive head when she reached it each time and then jerking it down with the skin clasped in her tender palms. I could feel it coming, seconds away now. I looked from Hanni to Irene, and Irene could see my state as well as Hanni could feel it; her mouth was nearly opened and her eyes searched mine to see me climax.

A few more strokes...just a few more...Hanni was did not stop for a second, stroking me for all I was worth. I began to cum, my body first flexed in that first second or two. Then I felt the semen rising from within me, jetting across me onto Hanni's side. I was only vaguely aware of Irene's eyes upon me as I shot a second time onto my sister's abdomen and thigh. She was directing my cock toward her beneath the blanket, still coaxing more of my sperm out between us. A pump of it caught her thigh and some of mine; still I kept coming. The jizz was spewing onto her hand now, and my sister jerked me a few more times before I had to grab her hand to stop her.

We were both sticky and covered in my load beneath the blanket, but Hanni kept her hand wrapped around my cock, holding me firmly and not letting go. I looked back in Irene's direction; she smiled at me brightly and then scooted closer to her husband, taking her eyes off of us and back to the movie. I couldn't believe how turned on I was that Irene had just watched my sister jerk me off under a blanket like high-school lovers. I would have dwelled on it further, but I was spent. It was then that I felt Hanni wiping us off beneath the blanket with a towel of some sort. She cleaned off our skin, and then my partially softened penis, which was an unbearable feeling in itself. When she finished, she folded up the cloth and wrapped her arm around mine: a rather unassuming gesture if you forget that she'd just caused me to cum all over her. She took my hand in hers and passed me the cloth. I brought it from beneath the blanket and realized it wasn't a towel at all, it was her bottoms.

The thought of her tiny, naked butt and warm, wet pussy beneath the blanket had my cock swelling again. I edged my hand closer again to her inner thigh, nearing her center when she pushed my hand away and whispered.

"Uh uh uh, just hold me and watch the movie..." I pouted when she said that and she caught the look. "We'll pick up where we left off later, I promise."

That took the edge off a little, besides, having her in my arms was promise enough that good things were to come. She scooted close to me under the concealing blanket. She wrapped her spindly legs around me like a monkey and brought my hand around to hold her. She was warm, so warm and yielding to my touch.

"I love you so damn much Hanni." I told her and waited for her to look me in the eyes,

"I know baby bro, I love you too......." she was so quiet and whispering right into my ear now, "....and I want you to fuck me....sooo hard... when we're finally alone."

I grinned from ear to ear. I couldn't wait to do just that. I held Hanni's lithe, slender frame against me for the remainder of the movie, unworried about our parents as they slumbered away. Irene looked over at us occasionally and I saw her smile knowingly at Hanni more than once.

At some point Hanni pulled on my shirt and whispered to me..."She knows..."

We both knew it now, and we were also much more at ease with the way she was handling it. She gently grasped Hanni's knee on her way below deck with her husband, wishing us goodnight. Jinwoo instructed that we shut the TV off before we went below to the bedroom we'd be sharing. Our parents followed them down, leaving Hanni and I alone up top, excitement building in our hearts.

When we were certain they were gone for sure, we locked eyes and just stared. Hanni began edging closer to me and bringing her puffy, lip-gloss frosted lips near mine. She lingered amount before pushing in; we shared a long, tender kiss and our tongues flitted out to teas each other. She was so gentle and her lips felt feather-light and warm against mine. I ran a hand up her slender body, massaging her as it went. We eventually broke the kiss and Hanni settled her head into my lap.

We talked for over an hour. Hanni shared with me her thoughts and feelings on what posing with Playboy would bring in the coming years and I listened attentively. We talked about frivolous things like friends and food, all the while my hands played over her smooth belly and caressed her lovingly. The tone changed when we started talking about us.

"I really love being with you Hanni..." she caught my gaze and smiled lovingly. Her smile was endearing and lovely.

"Are you sure it's not these you love?" she asked, bringing my hand in one motion up to her breast and sliding it immediately under the fabric of her bikini.

As always I was thrilled to be holding her ample breasts in my hand. They were warm, and her skin so incredibly soft. Despite the feeling, however, I gazed at her deeply to let her know how serious I was about how happy she made me.

"I know, I'm only kidding; you make me feel so happy, and so sexy. I hope you won't mind coming out to California with me because I'm not doing it without you."

I was taken aback by the statement. She breathed slowly then, in and out, awaiting my reaction to what she knew had been a serious proposition. My first thought was to protest; I couldn't just up and leave my home, let alone to be with my Playboy playmate sister. Within seconds however I was coming to my senses; the beautiful creature in my arms was all I wanted. I'd have no trouble finding a good job anywhere I went.

"Do you really mean that?" I asked.

A long pause ensued in which Hanni turned her head upward from its relaxed position in my lap and cast her eyes upon mine...

"Definitely." Her tone was one of complete certainty. It made my heart throb for her, and the thought of endless time and the implied wonderful sex life we'd share had my manhood throbbing too.

Hanni stood up and glanced back over her shoulder toward me, biting her fingernail as she did. When she reached the entrance to the lower deck she turned and leaned provocatively against the frame, casting her hip outward in a way that accentuated her lean form all the more enticingly. She aimed a finger at me and beckoned me toward her the seated position from which I'd been watching her eagerly.

"Come inside with me, I think I need help turning on that big shower down there," she suggested mischievously.

I ambled up after her and held her hand from behind as we headed down the stairs. The inside of the boat was larger than I'd guessed it was, and I was excited for what Hanni and I's room would be like. I was even more excited as I watched Hanni pull her camisole up over her shoulders and then toss it through the doorway to our bedroom, remembering now that she'd never put on her cum-soaked bottoms. I only got to peer through the opening a second before Hanni tugged my hand and pulled me close to her.

I took hold of her in my hands, large and strong in contrast to her tiny, graceful body. She arched her back into me, pressing our hips together and we kissed there in the hallway. We kissed deeply, making up for all the lost time. My hands roamed, her hands roamed, and our need was more apparent with each twirl of tongue against tongue. Once again, my sister was in my arms, clothed only in that alluring little bikini and dying for me to take it off her.

There in the hallway we kissed and touched and pressed against each other, mimicking what we truly wanted. Hanni had just asked me to come with her across the country and be with her, as much more than just brother and sister. I couldn't think of a place I'd rather be. Yet, just then I was getting exactly what I desired as well: every bit of Hanni I could get my hands on.

We continued our foreplay and rolled shoulder over shoulder toward the bathroom door. Hanni would push me off of her and pin me against the wall and then I'd do the same. All the while we stayed locked at then lips and hips, save the short gasps that escaped Hanni's mouth when I connected with a particularly sensitive patch of skin or the whispered

"mmmmh, I love you"s and "oh goddd"s when I touched her just right.

We were so caught up in each other we barely noticed door to Irene and Jinwoo's bedroom slightly ajar. So, when both of us heard a moan from the room nearby that clearly hadn't come from Hanni, we stood frozen there together with Hanni's warm breath brushing my cheek.

Slowly we turned our heads toward the door; phew, it wasn't coming from our parents' room. We inched closer to the opened door, close enough that with my arms wrapped around her I could see over her head the source of the sound we'd heard. I had not been wrong when I'd imagined Irene would be a knockout naked.

Hanni must have agreed too because she gripped tightly at my arms as we watched the scene unfolding before us. Irene's husband lay back on the bed with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, bent at the knees. Irene held fast to them and was turned around toward us, her breasts swaying as she lifted the sweet behind of hers and dropped it down sharply into Jinwoo's lap. She was tanned and toned, though not quite what I was used to with my sister. She was a bit... fuller, in places but it definitely worked to her advantage.

All the comparing reminded me who I held in my arms and I looked down at her, fidgeting in my arms.

"Like what you see?" I whispered, a line she'd used on me so many times before. She directed one of my hands downward and I knew what she wanted.

"Mmm hmm," she agreed, not even speaking as my hand landed over her uncovered slit, emanating the warmth of her arousal.

I began to pressure her tiny clit and she sank her gorgeous behind into me. We stayed like that, me rubbing her and her absolutely loving it as Irene continued to fuck her husband just beyond the door. We were both watching intently when Irene lifted her head towards us, the few of hair strands that had escaped hanging down over her face as her eyes rose up and landed on the door.

She saw us, she definitely saw us, and Hanni and I held tightly to each other neither moving or breathing. Her eyes met both of ours and she took in what was obviously a completely compromising position. She may have suspected correctly before that my sister and I had been lovers, but with my hand over the place no brother is supposed to go and my other cradling one of Hanni's awesome tits, there was no getting around it now. We were both frozen in anticipation of how she'd react.

Her downward thrusts slowed as she took us in and then........ a smile. Not just any smile, a huge mischievous grin that accompanied with her renewed efforts to take her husband's cock deeper and harder only meant one thing. She approved.

Hanni looked back at me with nearly the same grin Irene had, and she gave my crotch some serious attention with a quick up-down of that peach-like butt of hers over my shaft. I thought I was hard before that, but with Irene being railed a few feet away and the world's hottest playmate/my amazingly fuckable sister in my arms I think I suddenly grew another inch.

Irene watched us for a little while, as if both of her and my sister and I were transfixed and unable to look away. She showed us a few tricks, at some point rotating her hips around in a way that rippled her core and must have felt unbelievably good to her husband. She let out a few coos of pleasure but something told me they were more about seeing and being seen than Jinwoo's remarkably average penis. I guess money can't buy everything.

When we heard Jinwoo start to grunt foolishly Hanni took me by the hand and led me into the bathroom. She turned on the water and immediately grabbed my neck with one of her dainty hands, pulling me in for a needy kiss. She was turned on so obviously I could barely stifle a laugh. She pulled me under the water, my shirt still on. I wrapped an arm around her and her hands pawed haphazardly at me; she was so aroused she barely knew what to do with herself.

I took care of that; I lifted her and pushed her against the shower wall aggressively. She scratched at my back and then pried my shirt up over my head. Her hands pried at my stomach,

"Ugh, I love your abs," she was running her fingers over my muscles while arching her back to push me back a bit and see between us, "you are really fucking strong."

I rolled my eyes, 'women always say things like that,' I thought. I was flattered but compared to her, like a brilliant marble sculpture, I felt like I was made of play-doh.

She read my mind, "I'm not just humoring you, mmmhh, I'm soo attracted to you," she was rubbing that naked mound against my cock now. "No guy has ever made me so hot like you do."

I had to admit, she was flattering my immensely. I hoped that she felt the same way when I told her how gorgeous she was. I was encouraged enough to push her back flat against the wall and thrust along her lips, or what I could feel of them. I was kissing her neck furiously and she and I were clamoring to hump each other below. Somehow we got the water running and it warmed quickly, dousing us and our remaining clothing. My soaked trunks were plastered over my stiff shaft and it made the contact between us all the more purposeful. Still, I wanted more; and Hanni did too. She was fumbling around my shorts and the drawstring holding them tight to me. I was lost in her the long smooth skin beneath her cute chin.

"Oh god," she was moaning and twisting from attention to her sensitive neck, "take them off please!"

She was still lifted off the ground, her beautiful legs wrapping me. I reached for my waistband and she helped me to push the shorts down. She hastily pulled off the last scrap of clothing, her cute little bikini top, and cast it away; her tits jiggled unbearably and my cock jumped with excitement.

I forced her against the wall with an audible thud. My cock made its first contact with my sister's bare pussy in what felt like forever (it had only been about 24 hrs.) my rod split her lips and I felt how incredibly wet she was. She gyrated against me, and with my body sandwiching her between the wall and I could feel every muscle she used to do so. We were so connected in that moment.

"Umhhhh, it's been...too long," she cooed to me as her hips rotated rhythmically, "I've wanted you to put that big cock......mmmmgghh... in me all fucking day."

I loved hearing her talk like that, and I loved the way she looked and felt as much now as ever. Water cascaded over our shoulders, wetting her hair and dancing randomly down her slick body. Her tits were smashed against my chest, forced upward and outward while gliding against me with her constant grinding and flexing.

My shaft slipped again and again between her lips, I could feel my tip catch every now and again at her clit and threatening to sink deep inside her. At that moment we were content to thrust desperately against each other. I sucked hungrily at her neck and she showered my cheeks, ear and neck with kisses as best she could between her labored inhaling and exhaling. I even loved the grazing of her warm breath over my neck, the thought of making my sister so full of lust and sensation made me all the warmer inside.

"Uhhhhnn unnnnhhh, you like that?" she slowed and lengthened the path of her slippery lips on their straddling path over my cock "do you want to be inside me, wanna fuck your little slutty sister? I can't take this much longer...."

"Oh god, you have no idea," I answered her. I knew she was grinning.

Then suddenly from somewhere through the steam...."Then do it already, Jesus," it was Irene's voice 'I don't think I can take it any longer either!" We were frozen once again, held captive by the fear of being revealed.

Irene came into view, but I could barely see her in my peripheral while supporting my sister against the cool tiles on the wall of the shower. She looked to be wearing a nightgown of some sort, small and silky by the looks of it. She approached me slowly from behind; Hanni and I held our breath.

Irene was just outside the shower door we had failed to close in our haste. I still couldn't see her face and I thought that this may have finally been too much for her to see and accept. I felt a hand cover Hanni's on my shoulder. It slid in between Hanni's little fingers and caressed me as it did. Irene was touching me from behind and I could feel her presence heavy on my backside. I began to exhale, not sure yet if I should be relieved or not.

"Oh relax, you two! If I was going to rat you out I could have done it any of the half dozen times you were up to something before." There was an air of confidence and satisfaction in her voice, she was enjoying our little secret it seemed to me.

Hanni fidgeted, reminding me that I was only an inch or so from impaling her against the shower wall, I hadn't softened a bit and Hanni's warm pussy was still pulsing around my invading member. She felt it too, bringing her back to the desperation and arousal that Irene's interruption had only temporarily quashed.

I moved this time: a long, slow stroke that made her arch her back in response. Irene whispered something like "that's it, go on..." and stepped a bit closer. Hanni was fully back in sex-mode now and surprised me when she released her hand from its interlocking position with Irene's and she reached out beyond me. Her hand found Irene's shoulder and nightgown. She pulled, and Irene quickly stepped into the shower. The wide coverage of the showerhead found her nightie; it was a pale yellow number hung loosely over her shoulders with precariously thin straps. It was cinched under her breasts, which were causing mounds to form through the soft fabric, topped with pretty peaks that implied her obviously erect nipples.

Hanni and I were returning, slowly but surely, to the desperate and rhythmic contact we'd been seeking before Irene walked in. Hanni's adorable panting returned and she once again was splitting her engorged lips over the shaft I so eagerly wanted to plunge inside her with.

Irene's entwined fingers tightened their grip on my shoulder, and it seemed to jar Hanni into some new reality. She reached out swiftly and caught Irene's shoulder strap, sliding it off and pulling her under the water and closer to our side. The wide spray of the luxurious shower began to douse Irene with water. It was a subtle, pleasant yellow that darkened as the water turned it from opaque to transparent in a matter of seconds.

First her gorgeous butt showed through, sweet cleft and all as the material began to paste itself to her skin. I was staring intently and hardly noticed as Hanni slipped to the floor and turned to face the brunette vixen and her transforming gown. Hanni's fingers curled around my cock as she took another step toward Irene and came face to face with her.

It was like some kind of stand-off of who was hotter (it was admittedly close) or who was more daring, or god knows what those two women were thinking. My mind raced, and my member throbbed with Hanni's hand stroking me gently and pressing me against one soft cushion of her behind. The scene playing out before me was nearly too much to bear; the unfathomably beautiful Hanni, an unmatched playboy playmate vs. a sultry, illusive brunette trophy wife that had an obvious understanding of her own sex appeal and how to use it just right. I could hardly keep my eyes straight as Hanni jacked me, the pleasure and the build-up was indescribable.

Just when I couldn't take it anymore, Hanni closed the gap. Closing her eyes she leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on Irene's lips. It lingered... and just when Hanni seemed to pull back Irene returned the favor. She was soaked through and through in her place under the shower, every inch of the lingerie clinging to her body and revealing its splendor beneath. Irene wrapped a hand behind my sister's neck, her fingernails teasing just at her hairline where I knew her to be sensitive, and she brought them firmly together.

First they just held there sampling the other's lips; then Hanni opened her mouth ever so slightly. Irene swiftly flitted her tongue against the sliver Hanni had opened for her and then Hanni did the same. They playfully darted their tongues together and wrestled them more vigorously with each passing second. I hadn't thought my sister to have enjoyed the company of a woman as she now was, but with the increased pressure and stroking of my cock I could tell that Hanni was enjoying it thoroughly.

Once they had shared a few moments of feverish making out and both Hanni and Irene had begun touching each other gently and tentatively with their unoccupied hands, they slowed to a stop and drew back an inch or two. Simultaneously, both of them smiled at each other as if shocked and pleased by their newest taboo behavior. That was when they also turned in tandem to look at me, casually standing behind Hanni with an arm around her side as she stroked me and I watched them.

I wasn't sure what was in store for me but from the look in their eyes and the way they both glanced down at my cock, looking enormous in Hanni's dainty grasp, I knew it was something good.

"Mmmh," Irene let out and slumped toward Hanni a bit, "it looks to me like you were about to take a bit of a thrashing from not-so-little brother here... don't let me stop you."

Hanni bit her lip sexily and nodded in agreement, giving me an awesome little squeeze. She still seemed a little overwhelmed with pleasure from her first experience with another girl, so when she didn't act fast enough, Irene jumped in. She followed Hanni's arm with a light touch until it came close to where my cock was encased firmly in her grasp.

"Can I?" she looked straight at Hanni as if asking for permission.

When Hanni gave her an exasperated sigh of agreement, she slipped her hand over and Hanni let hers fall toward the floor. Irene set her eyes on me, waiting for me to protest. When I didn't, she wrapped her hand around my shaft completely and closed the gap between us. With one hand wrapped around my sister's taut belly, teasing toward her sweet spot, my other hand was left free. I quickly occupied it, placing it tenderly on Irene's hip.

My touch encouraged her and Irene leaned forward; it was my turn to taste the brunette's tongue against mine. Irene showed little hesitation with me as she had with Hanni. She simply slid into me in one quick motion and we locked together. First we tested only each other's lips, playing and sensing and loving the sensation. Then, when we felt bolder, we found the tips of each other's tongues. She was stroking me more intensely as we embraced and my hands on both Hanni and Irene worked harder in response.

When Irene heard Hanni moan from the pressure of my fingers on her button, she remembered her original intent. She ended her hand's attention to my staff and guided it closer to Hanni's cute behind. She was leaning against the tile and the combination of my stimulation of her clit, the down-pouring shower, and her first experience with another woman had her floating in her own paradise just inches away from mine.

Whether Irene realized it or not, as she hungrily lined up my tip with the entrance to my sister's tight tunnel, Hanni was yet unaware. Lost in her own thoughts and pressed up against that cool, smooth shower wall, she didn't recognize the feeling of my head making contact with her taut outer lips. Nor did she hear it when Irene planted another quick kiss on my lips and said,

"Go ahead honey,"

I split Hanni's lips apart with my first motion, and then began to slide the length of my engorged member into the little playmate's pussy inch by inch. That certainly brought her to, and she craned her neck to look back at who was causing the sudden, intense sensation she was experiencing. As I pressed deeper inside of her I could feel Irene's hand still guiding me and her fingers adding to the unbelievable pleasure I felt as I buried my shaft into my sister.

"Oooohhhh fuckkkk......"she howled with the naughty mouth of hers.

Irene moved around to where Hanni was locked against the wall, her breasts spreading outward from the pressure. Hanni turned to face her as much she could with my invading cock holding her in place. Immediately Irene found Hanni's lips with her own and began to kiss her intensely. While the two probed each other's mouths I finally reached the termination of my path and savored the sensation of being completely engulfed in my sister's tight pussy.

Irene's hand, which had been wrapped in a ring around my rod, lowered to allow me that final inch push into Hanni. She moved it directly to my full balls and tenderly cupped them in her hand. Her other hand had made its way to Hanni's opening, now pried open with her brother's cock.

"Does that feel good Hanni?" Irene asked her cutely.

"Yesss, ohhhh .....it feels sooooo good." she mewed back.

Once her fingers found their way to Hanni's sensitive little clit, I had had bottomed out in my sister entirely. Every bit of my shaft was immersed by Hanni's slick, hot channel and it felt as if I could sense her breaths in and out and the undulations of her beautiful core. My own little playmate cooed at the sensation of my cock seeming to expand inside of her. She was so tight, so unbelievably tight standing there with my cock lodged inside her, able only to cope with the feeling and do little else.

Irene planted a trail of soft kisses and pecks down Hanni's body, stopping for a moment at her delicious breast to caress them in a way only another woman could. As she made her way down, she placed a palm on my lower abs and gently encouraged me to pull out of my sister until only the helmet remained inside of her. Her soft pink lips held tight to my retreating member and pulled outward with it, desperate to keep me within. Just as my head was about to pop from Hanni's opening, she took hold of the exposed cylinder and prevented me exiting.

Her mouth found the connection between my sister and I and she covered it with the expanse of her tongue. That's when her hand, wrapped around me, tugged at me to press into my big sister once more. Her tongue stimulated us both and Hanni cried out as I sank into her more swiftly this time. In seconds I was once more deep within Hanni for the second time, ready to begin taking her fully.

"oh fuck.....Y/N.....it's so....... I can't.....mmmmmmm." She was short for breath and couldn't find the words to describe how I was making her feel.

Irene's tongue was beginning to lap and twirl around our incestuous junction, causing both of us to gasp from the added stimulation. When Irene's hand guided me back once again I was prepared, sliding out of Hanni and stopping just before I was literally out of her tunnel entirely before parting her lips once more and plunging deep inside.

Hanni was beginning to come to, despite the extreme pleasure from the increasing tempo of my thrusts. When I slid backward for the fourth or fifth time I could feel my sister's cute butt coming back to meet me. I kissed her neck from behind and she shivered from the tender contact. I opened my mouth and could taste the freshness of the water, still gliding down her body, combined with that deliciousness of her skin I'd grown addicted to.

As I continued to slide in and out of my sister, spurred on by her return thrusts, I reached down and found Irene's head with her soft locks of hair and I took the back of her head in my hand. I massaged lightly at it as Irene continued lapping at my sister and I from below. I gently tugged at her ponytail and encouraged her to stand up next to us so I could look her in the eye as I fucked my sister before her.

She did as I asked and came up to meet my gaze. Her eyes flitted down to my cock, plunging repeatedly into Hanni as I had her partially pressed against the wall for balance. I pulled Irene close and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her deeply while Hanni did more of the work. As I battled tongues with Irene and reached a hand toward her lovely cunt, my sister gyrated her taut cheeks into me faster and the sensation of her warm folds engulfing me independent of my efforts was near too much to bear. I prayed I wouldn't come too soon.

As my cock experienced the sensation Hanni was causing it my fingers found Irene's opening and teased her wet lips. I thumbed at her clit and she looked into me fiercely due to my daring behavior. I thought she might even push me away when she reached down to my hand, but instead she pressed my fingers inside of her.

"Uhhhhhghh," she moaned, "I needed this."

"Ughhh," I gasped back with another pound into Hanni, "Jinwoo not.....mmmmph.... Getting it done?"

She looked down at my invading cock once more, and Hanni and she made eye contact when Hanni turned to hear her answer. Her hand cupped the entrance to Hanni's pussy and she answered.

"Certainly not like this...." Something about having Irene approve of my rigorous fucking of my sister had my adrenaline pumping. With one hand in Irene's pussy I pressed two digits into her and began finger-fucking her to the tempo of my thrusts into Hanni. My other hand cupped Hanni's breast firmly to brace myself as I fucked her about as hard as I ever had.

"Fuccckkk...." Hanni squealed, "be careful.....mghhhh....I'm fragile."

I hardly listened, careful only not to slam her too hard against the shower wall, which might have woken someone. I continued to jam my cock into Hanni's squeezing sheath, bottoming out over and over and hearing her moan and gasp for breath. My fingers kept pace and Irene was leaning against my sister with one of their breasts mashing against each other.

"God, I might.....ohh.....ooh....cum already." Hanni said almost worried.

"Mmmmnhhh, you're telling me......fuck," Irene added in a breathy phrase.

Irene bucked against my fingers and the dropped to her knees as if to escape the pleasure for a moment, I was sure she hadn't come just yet but she started to minister to Hanni anyway. First her fingers wiggled over Hanni's clit and she trailed kissed to Hanni's tits once more.

I took both Hanni's hips in my hands and pressed her ass cheeks hard against my pistoning shaft. She held fast to my wrist and put a second hand against the wall. Over and over I drove into her, feeling her ass slam back toward me and clapping into my lap, apparently she wasn't THAT fragile.

"Ooohh.....ohhhhh.......so hard.......I think I'm gonna...."

I wrapped an arm across her abdomen and breasts, my other hand fell across her thin neck. She stood upright and I continued to impale her. I could sense her near orgasm as her body began to shake and weaken in my arms and I took more of her weight. That was just fine because my cock had her held up like a coat on a hanger. Irene's mouth found a nipple and she nibbled at it while her hand flew over Hanni's extremely sensitive clit.

It was the most erotic experience of my life, fucking my naked playboy-vixen sis with reckless abandon while she was being worked over by the beautiful adulterous brunette as both her husband and our parents slumbered on the other side of the wall. My fingers pawed at handfuls of Hanni's breasts and ass and I rocked in and out of her until I knew she was at the end.

"Ohhh ohhh, I'm gonna.....mmmmh-uhhhh..... Fuck, I'm gonna come." she was hardly being quiet, considering the proximity of our dozing families - I kept plunging into her nonetheless "It's so biggg.....mmmmph....I love you so.....uhhhh....much."

God she was so sexy right then, I couldn't get enough of her sweet dirty-talk or the flawless body I was currently burying my cock inside of. Just a few more thrusts and she was there. I could feel her pussy grip down on me like a vice and her body convulse against both Irene and I. Irene kept fingering Hanni's pulsing clit and I could feel her pussy wetting with her arousal.

She was bucking against the two of us and spastically taking my rod in and out of her as her pussy both begged for it to be buried inside her and for the unbearable sensitivity to stop. She moaned, she cooed; for nearly a minute she came, riding out her orgasm - my little champ. She was so sexy that I could have filled her right then with my own cum, but something about the naughty look that Irene we giving me... eyes peering at me, one covered in a wisp of black hair, while she stayed latched to my sisters nipple... I knew there was a little more left in store for me.

My little playmate finally stopped her involuntary shivers and kissed the hand I'd laid upon her shoulder. It was a light kiss, a thank you kiss, and I thanked her back by wrapping an arm around her tight tummy and pulling her close. I was still sheathed snugly inside of her and began to withdraw; she hummed a complaint. I gave her one final thrust when I'd pulled halfway out and when my hips made contact for the last time she melted in my arms. I finally removed my cock from her entirely and she turned around to face me, placing her back against the cold tiles and jumping at the sensation of them against her back. She took my chin in one hand and pulled me close; we kissed deeply and sensually; my God she always tasted so good.

Meanwhile, Irene had fallen to her knees again and as Hanni and I finished with each other, our tongues darting out for the last time, I felt Irene take my shaft in her practiced hand. Looking down at her I saw her beautiful body once more: breasts full and high upon her chest, pink nipples standing at attention and her firm abdomen. She kissed my tip and must have intended to suck me into her warm, waiting mouth. As good as that would have felt, Irene had done enough work already and I knew it was time to give her the attention she deserved. With Hanni recovering, eyes closed and face toward the ceiling, I gently took Irene's chin in my hand and coaxed her upward with a gentle pull.

She came up to meet me, eyes full of wonder and lust. She didn't know why I'd stopped her, but soon realized that intended to tend to her and not the other way around. I urged her toward the high bench at one end of the shower, where the water still reached her legs. Hanni followed her there and sat beside her, still zoned out and inattentive. As I sat Irene down carefully on the edge of the seat and positioned my mouth between her taut thighs, I took time to admire the beautiful shape that she'd managed to stay in. I figured her for no more than 34, but for the impeccable skin and luscious curves she carried, she and Hanni could have been roommates.

I massaged at the skin just beside her equally firm cheeks, a spot Hanni always seemed to love when I touched. Sure enough, Irene's dainty toes stretched and her hands reached out to bring me closer to her immaculate and beautiful slit. Her inner lips just peaked out from within her mound and I could tell just by looking at it that her pussy was going to be a snug fit.

I wasted little time; we were both so fired up, me from my intense sex with my sister and Irene from watching and waiting. I looked up at her, waiting for permission to enter a new level of intimacy. Her eyes looked desperate and sensitive:

"Mmm hmm," she hummed to me.

I planted the tip of my tongue at the very bottom of her entrance and wiggled it just inside a quarter of an inch. I then dragged it up within her pussy and to her clit, painstakingly slow. She moaned for the entire ten seconds it must have taken me to reach her button and then let out an exasperated breath. I then worked around her clit, flicking it with my tongue while pressing my hands into every bit of flesh they could reach from my kneeled position between her legs.

Hanni had taken to kissing slowly and sensually at Irene's neck as she grazed her hands over Irene's breasts and midsection. By the time that Hanni had even opened her eyes I was working a finger and my tongue into Irene's pussy, it was getting wetter with each passing second. She was so tight, I couldn't even imagine that she'd had much sex despite how attractive I, and probably any man, found her; obviously Jinwoo hadn't won her over with his size.

When I detected that Irene was building toward an orgasm, I increased my efforts and Hanni, who had perceptively noticed before me had already begun sucking all over Irene's chest and nipples.

Irene reached a hand down and grabbed my hair in between her fingers, running them through my short haircut and caressing my scalp. Then, for some reason, she stopped me. I followed her leading hand back up to eye level again and with her pair of pretty, large eyes, she looked deep into mine.

"It's so good....hmmm," she breathed out what she'd been holding in as her orgasm first suggested itself, "If we keep going, I'm not sure I could stop."

There was sincerity in her voice, and though I thought she may have really put an end to our tryst, the lips that puckered ever so slightly and accepted my kiss so readily suggested otherwise.

Hanni was being mischievous again, and she quickly grabbed my cock in her hand as it hung stiff between Irene and I.

"Why would you want to?" she said seductively as she pressed my tip against Irene's mound and ran it slowly from bottom to top as I had with my tongue.

Irene resolve weakened visibly, the tenseness she'd been displaying since the first thought of being penetrated was melting away in front of me. As my head made contact with her puffy folds, she shivered and her hands shot out to my abs and her pussy. She ran her fingers over the place where my cock had touched, but didn't push me away.

"I shouldn't....Jinwoo," she whispered barely loud enough for us to hear. I leaned into her and kissed her again while Hanni's hand stroked my engorged shaft; it was still slick from her own pussy. I was in heaven - Irene's tongue, despite her protests, was playing with mine enthusiastically, and I could feel her body involuntarily gyrating and pressing her mound harder against me. Hanni was, herself, pushing me deeper and I could just barely feel my cockhead beginning to spread Irene's lips.

"I don't think I can take that....hmmm...... Jinwoo is nothing like it."

Hanni smiled, sensing in the beautiful brunette a weakening resistance. I thought, if only briefly, that I might be offending my sister with my desires for another woman, and my eyes sought hers. Irene hadn't yet given permission, but when Hanni's eyes found mine she knew immediately what they wanted to ask her.

Rather than answer, she took my face in her hand and leaned in between Irene and I. Her perfect tits rested deliciously on my arm as I was massaging Irene's wonderful midsection. She kissed me, quickly and deeply, and I immediately knew what her answer would be.

Hanni was even more impatient than I; she practically tugged on my cock and urged me to slide forward. I still wanted to respect Irene's wishes despite the fact I knew almost certainly she would crack, but Hanni caught me off guard. As we broke our kiss she urged me with a firm tug forward enough for my helmet to slip just beyond Irene's entrance.

Irene gasped. I quickly pulled back and removed myself from her the tight embrace of Irene's entrance. My head shined with the wetness of Irene's pussy and it looked ripe for another plunge deep into the beautiful brunette.

"Hanni....!" I scolded.

Hanni only lifted her eyebrows and motioned for me to look at Irene to see her reaction. I didn't know what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised to find Irene's eyes closed and a look of undeniable satisfaction on her face. When she felt me pull back out after Hanni's bold actions, she interjected,

"Oh God... maybe just a little..." she cooed, "Hanni, do you mind if I ask your lover here for a little more."

Hanni grinned naughtily and leaned in to plant her answer tenderly on Irene's lips. I felt a bit left out for a moment, as if I were just being passed between the two beauties, but then I remembered that my cock was at the entrance to the young brunette and I couldn't possibly feel anything but content. I prodded Irene further, and she opened her eyes with Hanni breaking from her kiss. I began to slide in, inch after inch. Hanni watched intently, and she held my arm so she could still be a part of the action. I held her myself, grasping her little butt firmly in my hand so she could still tell how much I loved her. Even Hanni was growing impatient though, and seeing me draw out my plunge into Irene's pussy, she interjected,

"She just got through making love in the bedroom, I think you ought to give her what she really wants bro,"

I was still reeling from Hanni's newfound spunk, this naughty threesome in the shower of a crowded boat had her talking like a sex-fiend and I liked it. I could have turned back and fucked her again for how much she was turning me on. Instead, I looked back at Irene and saw that Hanni had been right:

"You're sister has a point Y/N, ughhhh," she said as I withdrew to start obliging her, she was almost giggling at Hanni's bluntness "think you can.... mmmmmnghh... make me come with that..... fuckkkk.... big cock?"

But I had already started to try, and with my gorgeous little playmate nuzzled into one side of my body and with my member now buried in the beautiful woman in front of me, there was no turning back. I started to plunge into Irene with little of the gentleness I often afforded my sister. I picked up the pace, and all three of us watched as my cock slipped inside her, causing Irene to gasp, and then slipped out covered in her lubricating fluids -- that part caused Hanni to gasp.

My little sister eventually propped herself up on the same seat as Irene to get a better spot for the action. Without her at my side to grasp onto and savor her perfect body, I opted for the luscious one of Irene instead. I grasped firmly and a bit more roughly than Irene had expected, not that she didn't like it. My fingers pressed into her hips, fuller and softer than Hanni's with Irene's slightly fuller build. I loved the change-up, however, and I was soon pounding into Irene without restraint. It felt glorious, her ass clapping against my thrusting hips and my shaft being squeezed by her slippery insides. Her tits weren't as large as Hanni's, and I looked over at Hanni to see that Irene was palming her breasts and fingering my sister in the most sensuous of ways. Indeed, Hanni's breasts were the best I'd ever seen and I couldn't wait to get my hands back on them, but Irene's... they were bouncing around at my rough pounding in a way that had me ready to spray inside her.

I wondered if Irene would have it however, and looking at both women I would have been equally happy to fill either one. But it was coming quickly, Irene's taut sheath was assuring that, and so was the unbelievably sexual girl-on-girl action unfolding before me. I might have been only and afterthought to Irene had I not been fucking her so hard.

"Ohhhh.......my...... Godddd...." She cried out, breaking a kiss with Hanni. I could see my sister smiling; she must have known what Irene was feeling.

"Irene, I'm getting close," I warned her, wondering what she would say.

At first she didn't respond, savoring my impaling cock further and leaning her head back adorably. But then she looked back at my sister, once again reminding me of the kind of attention a superstar like Hanni demanded and deserved. I slowed my pace a bit but kept ramming her with fervor, I hadn't fucked a girl like that, well....ever. Collecting herself, she asked Hanni:

"Do you want him to.... Ughhhh...." she seemed near orgasm as she spoke, "you know.... Mmmmnhhh... finish with you?"

But Hanni had never been a selfish girl, and she wanted Irene to have just as much fun as she did, plus she probably figured she had me as much as she wanted. "No way Irene, but just let me warn you, he's like a fire hose," Hanni said giggling. Irene's eyes widened, but she didn't stop me. Hanni backed away a bit but took my hand in hers, she just wanted to watch this part. I hadn't stopped fucking Irene the whole time, and she finally refocused her attention on me, not that I hadn't been caught up enough in my onslaught of her gorgeous body. I did catch Hanni's warning and it made me smile, I was looking forward to cumming in Irene if she'd have me. With Hanni's hand in mine I placed it back on Irene's hips and held on tight. Irene had been heading for orgasm long before me, so when I started to feel it, Irene was already howling. Hanni put a hand over her mouth with a worried hush; Irene understood and tried to keep quiet. "Ohhhh fuckkkk..... how can you stand it Hanni..... so fucking big!" she whispered as quietly as possible. Nobody awoke however, and as I thrust again and again into Irene's warm center I knew I'd be over the edge at any minute. Her slick channel gripped me, she began to climax, and hard. Her inner muscles were inordinately strong, more so than Hanni's, and whatever restraint I had left in me was broken when I tried to push passed them without cumming. I was cooked, and I blasted into Irene with reckless abandon. I kept thrusting, rope after rope of semen coating her insides and pumping deep into her womb. I wondered if she'd been trying to get pregnant with Jinwoo, and the risk that she might accidentally do so with me turned me on even more. It seemed to keep me spurting seed into her; it must have been ten times or more.

Maybe it was the fact that I'd just fucked my own little sister against the shower wall, or the fact that she was literally a Playboy Playmate, or maybe it was the fact that I was holding her hand as I came inside our host's beautiful albeit unsatisfied wife. Either way I was in heaven, and Hanni leaned into me once more as I began to slow and Irene rode out her orgasm. She reached down to Irene's clit to keep her going and she spasmed at Hanni's touch. I wished I knew how to stimulate the two women as well as they did, but I was content to watch the two beauties anyway.

Irene was still orgasming, mewing and gasping for air much like I'd seen Hanni do every time I'd been with her since the first time a few days ago. She was beautiful, and I felt nearly jealous that Jinwoo could be with her any time she let him, but then again... I had Hanni. I looked at my little sister and I smiled at her, looking deep into her eyes to make sure she knew how much I couldn't wait to be with her again. She knew though, and her cute grin and kiss she planted on my lips reassured me.

Irene started to come around, "Jesus," she breathed out. She bucked her hips involuntarily when I moved a bit. "I haven't been fucked like that since college," she sang. We all laughed a bit and it lightened the mood.

"So killer, do you think you can take that thing out of me or is it stuck?"

I decided to have a little fun with her and pressed in the inch or two I'd withdrawn; we both nearly fell over we were so sensitive. "I think it's stuck," I joked. I couldn't deny that it still felt incredible to be lodged inside of her.

"It better not be!" cried out my sister.

We all knew why she said that, and it made Irene smile. I finally slid out of her, and some of the mixture we'd created inside came out with me. "Well," Irene commented, "that might not have been my best decision ever." I kind of shrugged my shoulders as she stood up. She looked down between us at my semi-erect cock. It was touching her lightly at the waist and she wrapped a hand gently around it. "On second thought, it might have been."

Irene looked up to me and brought my lips to hers, she planted a sensuous kiss on my lips that tasted like berries; she really was a provocative beauty. The kiss we shared might have been good, but the one she next shared with my sister was better. Theirs lingered longer, and their hands briefly touched each other's bodies. When they broke it was Irene who spoke, "I'm going to leave you two alone," we watched in awe as she took a step away from us and turned back, "if you guys need another playmate this week, you know where to find me."

It was an odd choice of words, and both Hanni and I looked at each other with a bit of shock, she couldn't have known could she? She kept right on walking out the door, grabbing a towel and heading back for her bedroom. I wondered if her husband would notice that someone else had been inside his wife that night, and left something behind.

My attentions were broken by Hanni back at my side, she kissed me, and I kissed her back hard. Our hands roamed everywhere, both incredibly turned on by what had just happened, and inexpressibly glad to be back upon each other. We made out in the shower like that for God knows how long. It was a good thing Jinwoo had invested in some expensive water recirculating contraption because we took our time under the warm downpour kissing and touching like star-crossed lovers.

When our legs began to tire, we finally gave in, and I lovingly washed Hanni's body. I spent extra time on all of the features I love most, and I could hear her start to breathe more heavily when my hands washed over her tiny pussy. She did the same for me, not being too shy when she jerked her hand over my erect member to "clean" it. But she eventually finished the task, and after some more minutes of gentle kisses and an embrace that I could have kept going forever under the shower's streaming heat, we finally turned it off. I wrapped a towel around my sister, sorry to see the playmate's awesome body hidden for even a moment, and took one for myself.

I followed her down the hall and watched her cute butt sway, I think she was doing it on purpose but I could never tell. Before going back into our room I took a final glance at Irene's door, wondering what the rest of the week would be like with the beautiful brunette whom we'd both just made love to. Hanni tugged at my hand and I didn't really care, as long as my sister was there with me I would be in paradise.

We made love once before we fell asleep that night, and another time when Hanni awoke, feelingly naughty, on top of me. In the dim light I held and watched her move about with her own brother inside of her. The boat hitched gently back and forth as we had sex for what could have been hours; we were both insatiable. Neither of us knew what the future would bring but, lying there making love to the only person we'd ever wanted so badly, we finally drifted off into an unconcerned slumber.

[devotedsweetheart]

・❥ SAY IT AGAIN

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: you find out caleb had been logging into your phone at random times of the day to keep track of who you were texting. frustrated, you call him to yell at him only to question what exactly he was doing on the other end.

WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+ , phone sex , sub!caleb (per usual) , masturbation , cnc , use of y/n

a/n :: highkey got this idea from that one scene in twk when cardans kissing jude & telling her to say she hates him..🌝🌝

he had absolutely no right to be invading your personal space. absolutely none.

you were so fucking angry.

caleb was away on a trip with gran. usually, he would simply ask to check your phone, and you'd happily give it to him- knowing he means well. but with the shit he has been pulling, you're starting to question whether or not he really does trust you like he says he does.

you had found out that he was hacking into your phone because the device started acting awfully odd. opening apps you didnt click on, siri turning on without any context, letters on the keyboard being pressed when you never tapped on them in the first place. confused (and frankly a little scared), you took it to a professional to get it checked out. when he asked if anyone else had the password to your socials, thats when the realization dawned on you.

you felt so stupid. utterly dumb. but how were you supposed to know? you had told caleb about the issue multiple times and each occasion you mentioned it he would always say the same thing: "thats so weird, pips.. maybe you should go get it checked out or something." feigning complete innocence.

you had enough.

driving home as fast as you could, you barely reach the front door before you're calling him nonstop until he answers.

"hey pips! i missed yo-"

"you fucking liar."

there's a beat of silence at that. your breathing is heavy, going right into the mic- giving caleb an idea of what he's in for.

"um.. excuse me?" caleb manages, swallowing thickly. he knows exactly what you're going to yell at him for and he's praying to jesus christ himself that he can manipulate his way out of it.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about, don't try to play dumb. you've been going into my phone and looking through my shit. i thought you said you trusted me? what happened to that? i mean, seriously, caleb, i thought we had gotten over this." you say, voice pinched a bit higher than usual. you're pacing around the room in order to keep yourself calm, heart beating at a distressing rate as you don't like to argue with him.

"pips, i really don't know what you're talking about," he utters, licking his lips. "i know whats been going on with your phone has been messing you up, but you don't necessarily have to blame me for it. look, once i get back i'll help you figure out what's wrong with it just to prove that it's not me. deal?"

you can tell that he's trying his best to soften his tone to make his lie more believable, but you aren't gonna buy into it.

"no. no, caleb, just quit the act already. i'm so tired of this. i'll give you two choices," you say, sitting down on the couch; elbows on your knees. "either you stop with the whole hacking thing and we stay together, or i cut things off with you and we never talk again."

for a moment, there's nothing being said. pure silence. he's absolutely speechless on his end of the phone, mouth agape and eyes wide. every few seconds, he'd attempt to say something but nothing would come out- resulting in something that resembled a stutter.

"well? what's it gonna be?" you asked, becoming to grow impatient.

"y/n.." he whispered. "you.. you can't do that to me. i-.. i'm sorry for doing all that crap. i didn't do it because i don't trust you... it's other people that i don't trust. please believe me, baby. i can't stop doing it, it's just my way of keeping you safe."

aaaand now it's your turn to be shocked.

"are you fucking serious?" you yell, and you swear you can see the look on his face regardless if he's visible or not. eyebrows raised up, cheeks as red as roses, eyes backed up with tears. you know how much he hates being yelled at by you... but he deserves it. "you can't be serious. please tell me you're pulling some joke."

" baby, please. i-"

"enough. just quit it. i fucking hate you, caleb."

he swallows. no, practically gulps. he shouldnt be turned on by the sound of that. he really shouldnt. he knows he should be terrified by the threat of you leaving him... but the tent growing in his pants is getting undeniably uncomfortable that he just can't seem to care.

unzipping his jeans, he gently lays his back on his bed, being carefully quiet to ensure you don't hear.

"you're fucking insane and no matter how much i try to talk to you about it you never change. it is draining, caleb. you have absolutely no idea how fucked up you are."

he's nodding against his phone, murmuring small 'yeah's here and there to let you know that he's listening. what you aren't aware of is the fact that instead of really listening, he's actually moving his hand at an insane speed on his dick. it gets to the point that he can't even respond, the pleasure taking over. all he needs is for you to tell him how bad he is and how much you despise him for him to be able to go over the edge.

the fact that you don't even know whats going on keeps him going for even longer.

"...-is so frustrating, caleb! you don't even care for me and... wait, are you even listening? hellooo?" you shout, expecting an answer.

he picks up his phone from where it was sitting on his pillow and takes it off speaker phone to reply. "y-yes, baby? 'm sorry.. i'm, um, listening. keep talking." he responds, stuttering over his words.

you roll your eyes, thinking he simply just doesn't care. "my god, you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so much, y'know that?"

he nods hastily, even though you can't see it. "y-yes. say it again. please." the last word comes out broken as he was embarrassingly close to cumming.

you stop in your tracks, both eyebrows furrowed. "um..." you utter, confused at what he was playing at. "i... hate.. you..?"

"f-fuck!" he whisper-shouts, hips thrusting into his hand as he drops the device back onto where it was initially. he brings his previously free hand down to his cock to stroke the tip, twisting his wrists. biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood, he makes his best effort to keep little whimpers inside of his mouth. it works for the most part... but you already knew what was happening. he does it too many times for you to not know.

"caleb." you warn.

he doesn't answer, he can't answer, mind is too hazy from the force of his orgasm. he's practically like putty on his bed, half asleep and half awake.

"text me in the morning." you say before hanging up and throwing your phone on the bed.

he will not ever learn.