#First Meal FREE in Train

[railrestroblog]

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For more details click here to watch this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Lwrh8KXusM

[asinglesock]

I slept so much today AND we're falling back tomorrow so I get even more time to sleep AND I'm only working at caregiving job this month so my work is going to be contained to regular business hours <3 <3 <3

[lovlidollie]

author’s note ; bit of an alternative universe, ward sent rafe away after he killed peterkin in s1, timeline is slightly accelerated. i’m imagining s3!rafe as who he comes back as :3

thinking of military!rafe who comes back after hearing about ward’s death, looking nothing like the coke addicted, wiry little frat boy that had left kildare. he’s matured. he’s grown. long gone are the greasy bangs, a smooth buzz in its place. he’s taller, broader, stronger. his biceps pull at all his shirts, threatening to tear and his thighs are thicker, fuller. he exudes confidence, dominance, a (not so) quiet sense of authority.

he couldn’t give two shits if ward was dead. he was the one that had forcibly enlisted him after the drugs and the alcohol and everything got too much. after the … peterkin incident. he’d been sent away, without even getting to say goodbye to you. little old you.

you were his everything of course. the one constant in his life. when you’d heard rafe was on his way back, you didn’t know how to feel. you’d tried to ignore the anxiety, the stutter in your heart; what if he didn’t want to see you? what if he’d found someone else? it’s not like you guys were together in the first place. back then it had been so fragile, so complicated, caught between the lines of friends and something more. rafe had never said the words and neither had you.

unbeknownst to you, rafe had been thinking about you every single second of every single day he was gone. during grueling drills and physical training. during meals and free time. especially during late nights in his bunk where he’d fist his cock at the memory of your face, biting his lips to stop your name from slipping between his teeth.

he’d told himself that when he got back, he’d make things right. he didn’t care how long it took or how hard it’d be — he’d do whatever it took to prove to you that he was a man now. a man who could appreciate all you did for him, everything you sacrificed. a man who was deserving of your attention. a man who could provide and take care of, and love you.

[chiwhorei]

┊͙𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫┊͙

Pairing: big bro!Zayne (LaDS) x lil sis!reader

Tags: incest, corruption, virginity loss, wife-sistering, DARK CONTENT, MDNI

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who has always been this stoic. No seriously. He’s never been one to crack more than a half smile and the difference between his own nature and that of his sister’s has always been very obvious.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who has is own ways of showing love, something only you have ever been privy to. He never had girlfriends, not even before the workload of med school, his residency, or his current practice. But he did always have you, his ever-so-sweet little sister.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who isn’t one for grand gestures, but will, as patiently as he can muster, remind you to drink plenty of water, eat three meals a day, and stretch after long training sessions.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who will help you after training too! He’ll hold you at your hips or trap your hands over your head to make sure your muscles get a nice deep stretch! You feel all kinds of dizzy and tingly when your brother touches you like that, but Zayne says that it’s normal. You can trust him, he’s a doctor!

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who convinces you to move into his fancy penthouse apartment after you join the Hunters. It’s closer to HQ, anyways.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who assures you it isn’t weird if you sleep in the same bed. He just likes having his little sister close to him, that’s all!

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who shows you the sweetest sides of him when you’re wrapped up in bed on rainy mornings. He makes you feel things that boyfriends never did. His touch, his voice, the feeling of his hard chest under your cheek— it’s all so comforting and so confusing at the same time.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who tells you that big brothers make the best boyfriends. And isn’t he always right? He doesn’t have the time or the desire to find a girlfriend. Plus, anyone he pursued would only ever be compared to you. And that’s a loosing game, because no one could ever compare in your big brother’s eyes.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who takes your virginity against his bed a few days after you move in. He spends the entire evening lapping at your pussy and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He opens your pussy up on his tongue first, almost getting dizzy himself at the feeling of you squeezing around him. He tells you it’s okay to pull on his hair and that he doesn’t mind if you mess it up a little. As long as you’re feeling good, that’s all that matters.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who shoves two long fingers into you with no warning just to hear you cry. You get used to the feeling after a few pumps of his wrist and he watches in awe as you grind down on his palm in search for another orgasm. “Already so greedy, what am I going to do with you?”

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who ignores his aching, leaking cock for hours while throwing you into one orgasm after another. Once he’s satisfied that you’re feeling dizzy and gooey enough, he finally pulls down his sweats and lets his long cock spring free.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who pulls you to sit in his now naked lap and shushes into your hair when you whine. He has you lined up against his cock and almost cries out himself when your little pussy finally sits on his aching tip. He’s been opening you up for hours, so he feels justified in being just a little mean and making you take his entire shaft in one go.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who doesn’t care to keep you quiet when you start going up and down against him. His apartment is plenty big, but he wouldn’t care even if he had neighbors that could hear him. He is so sickly enamored with how you scream for your brother’s cock, how tears pill down your cheeks but you keep moving against him with everything you’ve got.

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who cums inside you only after he’s felt your muscles squeeze in pleasure a few times. You’ve cum more times than you imagined possible, more times than anyone else could ever give you. And that’s the point, isn’t it?

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 who holds you down by your hips and makes you warm his cock. Whispering sweet encouragement about how well his little sister did. How other guys aren’t nearly as big as him and how you took him so well. How you’re ruined for anyone else so you might as well say you’ll be his little housewife. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

❥ ᴄʜɪᴡʜᴏʀᴇɪ.2024©️ ᴀʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ.

[viasdreams]

jeno trying to propose to you !!

wc: 1100

a/n: based this off this clip from tds3 encore !! this is my first written fic and i really hope yall enjoy it! soz for any errors >_< thank you for reading <3

this week's date night with jeno was going really well, scarily so.

this was the first time in your two-year-long relationship that nothing had gone wrong during your scheduled date night.

something was always off, whether it be an abnormally long wait time at the restaurant you spontaneously chose, sitting next to a very cranky baby at the movies, or being stuck in traffic for so long, you miss your romantic couple's massage.

it didn't matter what it was, it was always something.

it happened so often, that it had become a joke between you and jeno. the two of you placing bets on what the incident of the week would be, whoever was closest getting to pick dessert.

that's why this date night felt off.

the restaurant was within walking distance so there was no getting stuck in traffic. jeno had made a reservation, so there was zero wait time. the chef cooked your meal to perfection, even taking the onions off, which they never did. and the waitstaff was wonderful, fulfilling your every request before you could even ask.

it was the perfect night.

and to be honest, it kind of freaked you out.

the bag of leftovers from your favorite restaurant hung from one of jeno's hands, your hand in the other as the two of you walked back to your apartment, opting to take the scenic route through the park.

"hey jen?" you broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between you. however, jeno didn't seem to notice, his eyes trained on something off in the distance.

you squeezed his hand to break him out of whatever trance he was in.

"jeno?" you said, louder this time.

that seemed to do the trick, your boyfriend snapping back to reality.

"ah sorry babe, i was thinking about something," jeno apologized, giving you the eye smile you loved so much.

"oh were you thinking about how weird this night has been?"

jeno stopped walking, abruptly pulling you back slightly due to your hands still being interlocked.

"you think tonight was weird?" there was a genuine look of worry painted across his features.

"well yeah'" you laughed at his question, incorrectly assuming that the two of you were on the same page about the situation.

you very much were not.

jeno's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what had gone wrong that evening.

"wh- what was weird about it?"

once again missing jeno's obvious confusion, you replied.

"it was perfect! i mean not a single thing went wrong." you held your free hand out for emphasis, "that's weird!"

everything clicked for jeno, a smug expression replacing his previously distraught one.

"you think tonight was perfect?"

you slowly nodded.

now it was your turn to be confused. did something happen that you were unaware of?

he placed the leftovers on the ground and brought his newly freed hand to yours, smiling down at it as he spoke.

"do you want to know why it was perfect?"

"yes?" you questioned, not really sure what was going on.

jeno laughed slightly at your puzzled look, enjoying watching his plan come to fruition.

"well, a month ago when i told you i was hanging out with yuta, i was actually going to that restaurant in preparation for tonight."

"wait but yuta told me about what you guys did? what do you mean you weren't with him?" you found his words hard to believe, recalling your hour-long phone call with yuta in which he recounted their 'bro banzanza' in excruciating detail.

"it's scary how good at lying he is," jeno chuckled.

the humor of the situation was lost on you. what about your boyfriend lying to you was funny?

"why did you lie? and what do you mean preparation for tonight?"

"im sorry for lying, but i needed an excuse to be out for a few hours. i needed to make sure the chef would nail your meal and i had to tell the waiter all about your dining habits."

you pulled your hand out of his grasp and turned away, trying to take in his words. why did he care so much about this one specific date that he would make preparations a month in advance? it wasn't your birthday or anniversary, so why?

you felt a warm hand gently caress your face, turning it back.

"i did all of that so tonight would be perfect for you. we never get to have perfect dates, and i love that, truly, but i wanted tonight to be perfect. we can have imperfect dates for the rest of our lives, as long as tonight wasn't one."

the rest of our lives?

just then the alarms in your brain sounded all at once.

holy shit.

he was proposing.

you watched your boyfriend reach into his pocket as he got down on one knee and prepared yourself for one of the happiest moments of your life.

the moment was taking longer than you expected though. thirty seconds had passed since he knelt down and jeno was now franticly shoving his hands into every single crevis on his body. his smile replaced with a look of pure shock.

"jeno?"

slowly he looked up at you, mouth agape.

"i forgot the ring."

your eyes widened, matching his.

"babe im so sorry, i was so caught up in making everything perfect that i forgot the most important thing. im so sorr-"

his apology was cut short as you burst into a fit of laughter, falling to your knees, level with your (still) boyfriend.

this caused jeno to laugh too, the gravity of his mess-up suddenly becoming hilarious rather than devastating.

"do you want to try again another time or do you want to keep going?" you asked between giggles.

"ill try again i guess," he sighed, "kind of sucks though, i had to tip that waiter and chef a lot of money to get them to do that." he slowly stood, holding out his hand for you. "like a lot of money."

"that's what you get for trying to ruin our messed-up date streak," you said, pulling yourself up and walking a few steps ahead.

once you were a good distance away, you turned back, "if it counts for anything, i would have said yes."

he barely made out what you said, but he still heard.

jeno quickly ran after you, kissing you overtaking every other thought in his head.

"jen the leftovers!" you yelled, pointing to the (apparently) very expensive bag of food now left abandoned.

he turned back and threw his arms up dramatically.

"damn, i can't remember anything!"

m.list ☁︎⋅

[lovelywyenn]

★☆«“First Time”»☆★

★Mitsuri Kanroji x Obanai Iguro x Virgin fem!Reader★

Synopsis★Obanai and Mitsuri are absolutely smitten with you. Of course they’d love to take your relationship to the next level and make you theirs★

Includes★Threesomses, Cunnilingus, fingering, sloppy sex, missionary, vaginal penetration, deep throating, tip sucking, neck kissing★

★W.C★4.6K

Being a Hashira took a lot. Brains, strength, determination. All traits that a chosen hashira must possess to have a hope of surviving the japanese nights. 

You had all of these things. A smart and capable young woman you were, you rose the ranks fast. It left everyone shocked. It was rare for a new Hashira to be appointed. Especially one as sweet and shy as you. You were strong, no doubt. The evidence was all in your accomplishments. Starting at the bottom and working your way to the top in only two years, inventing your breathing style developed from water breathing on the way. 

All your hard work had paid off, which is what landed you where you were. Standing with people you have looked up to for years as not only the first ice hashira but a colleague of theirs. 

The hashira were friendly to you, and even if they weren’t the nicest they didn’t give you too hard of a time. But for the most part, everyone was kind to you. Especially two in particular.

You had known that Mitsuri was a bubbly person before you had met her so it wasn't a surprise to you when she clung to your side the first time you officially met. Pressing close to you and showering you with compliments. 

The love Hashira's boyfriend was the same way with you. Obanai was equally if not more clingy with you as Mitsuri was. His behavior surprised everyone, especially you. You had heard so many rumors about how it wasn’t typical of him to show kindness to people, especially new people. But you welcomed the kindness from both of them. Enjoyed the way they showered you with gifts and money for seemingly no reason at all. And loved how sweet they were.

It took you a while before you realized why they were so friendly with you, they wanted a third. They confessed to you one night when they took you out to a nice dinner and got you dressed up all pretty for them. They had drowned you in accessories, gold earrings, floral headpieces. You would have to be crazy to say no. So that night you went home with a kiss on the cheek from each hashira, and a handful of gift boxes that were sure to never stop.

Life with them was a dream, sure it was scary sometimes. There were times all of you were afraid. When you would go out to slay demons there was always a fear one of you wouldn’t come back. 

But the good times outweigh the bad. The times they would smile at you when you made dinner when they got home late, enjoying meals and deep conversations. The times the three of you would train together, pushing each other to your limits and laughing about it afterwards. 

And times much like this, when they had you pressed against the futon, both of their soft, warm hands gripping all over you. Obanai had his lips pressed against yours in a sloppy kiss. The feeling of his tongue slipping into a tangle with your tongue makes your legs quiver. Your girlfriend had her hands glued to your tit, finger flicking and teasing at your nipples, pebbled from the constant stimulation. She sucked pretty purple marks along your neck that were sure to get worse in the morning.

While Mitsuri’s hands were busy, Obanais free hands started groping over you, he slid down to play with the band of your underwear hidden below your silk robe. 

You shivered at the touch, your hand quickly came to grab at Obanai’s when he attempted to slip under the fabric clad against your cunt. “W-wait,” you said breathlessly.

Obanai’s hand immediately halted. This was usual when the three of you got like this. You would always stop it when it got this far. They never pressured you into anything, they were just curious as to why this was the point you stopped at. You had already assured him you wanted to have sex with them, they just never understood what the hold-up was.

Your boyfriend pressed an apology kiss to your lips, “Sorry doll, I got carried away. ” he said, hand sliding back up your body to gently stroke across your abdomen, gaze sliding down to watch the way your muscles fluttered at the light touch. 

"It's okay, I-I just”, Mitsuri sat up at your own words, her full tits practically spilling out of her robe as she took the chance to look at you. “Just what sweetheart? Tell us.” she spoke, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

It feels impossible to keep ahold of her gaze as your cheeks flush, eyes glancing away from hers. Obanai tuts at this, “Don’t be shy doll, you can tell us anything and everything.” he says.

You sigh as silence washes over the three of you. Your lovers don’t rush you to speak, they wait patiently until you’re ready to continue. “...I’ve never done this before.” you said, feeling your heart thump a little faster in your chest. 

“Done what?” Mitsuri questions, “Had sex?” She asks.

You silently nod, embarrassed by the truth. To your horror, Mitsuri and Obanai give each other a look before chuckling. “Please don’t laugh at me,” you said. As a frown took shape. The two immediately stopped laughing, each placing a comforting hand on your body. 

“Sweetheart we would never laugh at you, it was just funny that you were embarrassed. Did you think you being a virgin would scare us off?” Mitsuri asks after assuring you. 

The sigh you let out was one of relief at your girlfriend's reassurance, “Yes, I-I thought it would make you all see me as if I was immature, when in reality. There just…. Isn’t enough time for sex when you’re constantly working to get to hashira status.” you say.

“That’s perfectly fine.” Mitsuri assures, Obanai then chimes in, “After all, we have plenty of time right now.” 

 “We can make good use of it.”

“You guys want to have sex?” you ask, eyes wide as you feel a tingling sensation between your legs, the same feeling you always get when they kiss and touch all over you.

You close your eyes as Mitsuri leans down and presses kisses on your lips, sloppily trailing kisses down your neck, “Just say the word Y/n, say the word and we’ll make you feel so good.” she muttered between kisses. 

Obanai grabs your chin and your eyes shoot open as he makes you look at him. “C’mon doll, let us give it to you, make that little cunt feel good, what do you say, hmm?”

You nod and are immediately overwhelmed with the sensations of their hands all over you again. Mitsuri’s tongue suckled around your tits, while your boyfriend was kissing you so rough you could barely keep up. His strong hands somehow trail gently down your body, toying with your panties again before running a finger along your covered slit. Your body jumps and your boyfriend presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Relax doll.” he says, backing off from the kiss as he continues his feather-light touches, it felt like so much more to you. Gentle strokes turned into defined circles around your sensitive clit. Still a gentle feeling, but overwhelming at the same time. 

“Oooh, why d-does it feel like that” you moan, hips slowly grinding up into the pleasure you were receiving.

“Like what Mama? Is it too much?” Mitsuri asked, cupping your cheek so you would look at her. 

You nod at her question, “It’s a lot but I-I like it. Feels good, really fuckin good. ” You moan surprising your lovers, it was rare for you to curse. “Am I supposed to feel. . wet down there?” you ask.

Mitsuri nods, “It’s natural baby, which means Obanai’s making you feel just right”

“Can you take my panties off? They feel sticky now.” you ask sheepishly. Obanai pulls his hands up as Mitsuri slides the fabric down your legs and throws them across the room. Your girlfriend crawls off your body and sits on her knees right in front of you. 

She gasps and you get a little shy, closing your legs to cover yourself. Mitsuri shakes her head, pushing them open. “Don’t hide such a pretty thing from me sweetheart. Obanai look how pretty our baby’s pussy is.” she said, pulling Obanai to stare. You blush as they stare at you, hands spreading your cunt to get a pretty look at you.

“She’s so pretty, wet too.” Obanai stares in awe. You watch as your lover spreads your legs wider, leaning in closer. Mitsuri can’t help but lightly drag her tongue through your folds and you whimper, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Obanai’s tongue soon follows, stroking through your slit to get a taste of the wetness leaking from your sopping cunt.

Your moans grow louder and louder as they both start to make out with your pussy, taking turns sucking on your clit and fucking their tongues into you. It made your toes curl and your cunt clench, you hadn’t felt like this ever before. 

But nothing made you wetter than seeing the two of them end up kissing each other. Tongues tangling together as they made out with each other right in front of your cunt. They sat up, giving you the delicious view of the tent in Obanai’s pants and the wet spot staining Mitsuri’s panties. They were so incredibly sexy. 

An experimental hand trailed down your body as you gently rubbed where Obanai had touched you earlier. You shivered as you circled the spot your boyfriend had earlier, eyes watching as Mitsuri’s hands reached into Obanai’s pants, pulling his fat cock out and stroking it with expertise you were sure to never have. 

You fastened your pace as she jerked him off, loving the sight of precum leaking out the tip and down her pretty hands. When they glanced back at you, seeing their pretty girl playing with her pussy, they drew their attention back to you. 

Mitsuri’s lips press one last kiss To obanai’s before she leans down and grabs the hand you’d been touching yourself with, her other arm never stopping her tugs on Obanai’s cock. She slowly sucked your digits soaked with your juices in her mouth, making your clit twitch from how arousing the situation was. 

She let your fingers go with a lewd pop, “God you taste good sweetheart.” she sighed before moving back to Obanai to press a kiss to his tip. “Why don’t you let our girl take care of this for you, teach her a thing or two.” Mitsuri suggests. “I’ll focus on making her feel good”.

Obanai nods, enjoying Mitsuri’s idea. He pressed occasional kisses on your stomach, moving up your body until he was straddling your neck. He gently slapped his cock against your cheek and you moaned at the heavy weight of it.

“Open up pretty girl.” he says and you eye him wearily. But when his soft hands grasp your chin you open up. Obanai slips the tip of his cock in your mouth and you try to mimic what you think Mitisuri would do. Sucking on it. You suppose your choice was right as your boyfriend threw his head back with a groan.

As you suckle on your boyfriend's swollen tip. Your girlfriend has settled between her legs. Nimble fingers toying with your slit. Just dragging them through, playing with you like she would a toy. 

You moan around Obanai's cock, the sound sending a fat glob of pre cum rolling down your throat. He grabs the back of your head, hands pushing himself farther down on it. You swore you were choking, it was just so thick. 

Your girlfriend marveled at your pretty little cunt, juices just oozing out of you. Mitsuri finally leans forward and flicks her tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your legs twitch, and your thighs would be sure to close if it wasn’t for the love Hashira’s strong hands spreading you apart perfectly. 

Mitsuri was nastily skilled with her tongue. Quick and nimble movements were sure to be the death of you. She was practically making out with your slit, her tongue sliding into every crevice of your pussy. You could barely keep up, the only thing grounding you from the pleasure was Obanai’s meaty thighs, which you had a death grip on. 

Your long nails left red streaks along the skin as his cock stuffed your mouth full. Tiny tears creased the corner of your eyes as you tried your best to take him down your throat. Gagging as he moved you through the motions. 

Back and forth back and forth, back and forth. 

Until your chin was a slobbery mess. But you weren't the only one. Mitsuri's face was soaked, spit and slick covering her face as she ate you out. Her nose nudged your clothes as she forced her tongue as deep into you as she could manage. And it was toe-curlingly good. 

Obanai peered down at you, smiling at the fucked outlook in your eyes. He tapped your cheek, “You still with me baby?”

You nod your head, eyes focusing on the pretty sight above you. He was just as handsome as always. Cheeks flushed, panting as his hips thrust down your throat. 

If he didn't know you were too sweet to ever not be honest, he would call you a filthy liar. You were a natural. Sucking his dick deep, tongue licking underneath the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. 

It was taking everything in him not to blow his load right now. 

His head turned to look at Mitsuri, calling to her over his shoulder, “Think she's ready for me?” He asks. 

“Hmm,” Mitsuri ponders, pulling away from your needy clit. You were pretty soaked, but she had barely prepped your hole yet.

A slim finger slides into you with ease, and when it curls your whole slit twitches. 

“Oooh, she's a tight little thing” Mitsuri chuckles as she starts to thrust her finger in you, keeping its curve. Your mouth went slack around your boyfriend's cock at the feeling. It had your mind going blank. 

Every time your girlfriend's finger pulled out of you, the pad of her finger dragged deliciously over a spot inside you that drove you crazy. 

Obanai couldn't hold himself back anymore when Mitsuri's tongue joined in the mix. The muscle mashing against your clit, the nasty noises running straight from his ears down to his cock. 

He grabbed your hair without thinking, forcing you all the way down on his shaft as he came.

You could barely keep up with what was happening, just. Swallowing the thick liquid he gave you no choice but to taste. 

When he pulled out of your mouth, the heavy weight of his cock pressing into your cheek you could finally moan freely. 

And fuck you were loud. But your noise was warranted. After all, Mitsuri slid another finger deep into your pretty pussy. 

She must've wanted to kill you, that's the only reason you could find to explain the mean way her lips were latched on your clit. It was so harsh, the Inescap pleasure driving you the same. 

The hands-on Obanai’s thighs gripped onto him for dear life as you squeezed your eyes tight. 

He had seen it countless times when he had gone down on Mitsuri. 

“Open your eyes doll, let me see how pretty you look when you cum.” he says. 

It was all just so much. You wail loudly as you feel pleasure building up in your gut. Different than what to have been feeling so far. It felt like you were tumbling down a hill, pleasure building up and up and up until… you finally came. 

Your whole body froze up and you swore your vision went pure white. Your back arches up into Mitsuri's Mouth until the pleasure hits you. 

The thick of your thighs closed around Mitsuri's face, legs shaking terribly as your toes curled in. But your girlfriend, ever stubborn, didn't let you stop her from prolonging your orgasm. Her licks were gentle, just. Prodding at your clit. She pulled her fingers from your country, focusing on working through it with your tongue. 

Obanai had his eyes glued to yours the entire time, a dark look in his eyes. 

It felt like forever had passed before Obanai crawled off of you, gently pushing at Mitsuri's head, doing what your tired arms failed to do. Reluctantly, the girl pulled away, a pout on her shiny lips that was quickly kissed away by l. 

Just like that, the two were all over each other again, kissing, tongues down each other throats. Obanai loved kissing his girl, but there was something about the taste of her mouth that was driving him crazy. 

Your eyes trailed down their bodies, Obanai, already naked and hard again, his cock twitching every which way, desperate for a hole to find refuge in. 

Mitsuri’s hands desperately took hold of her robe, pulling the fabric off. You moaned as her soft body was exposed.

Heading that, she pulls away from Obanai, leaving him chasing her lips. She crawls next to you and you think you're gonna die. She's so sexy, an absolute wonder of a woman. Thick hips, huge tits with a cute face. Sometimes you wonder what you did to get so lucky. 

You sit up weakly on your elbows, smiling up at her. Obanai’s hands reach for his cock as he watches Mitsuri grab your cheek and kiss you. Her tongue immediately takes control of yours. You moan into the kiss, the feeling of love Hashira’s tits pressed against your side sending your brain into overdrive. 

You almost don't register Obanai moving between your legs until you feel his dick prodding at your clit. You pull away from Mitsuri's kiss with a moan. It felt different than before like every little touch to your clit was overwhelming. 

Obanai smiled, tapping his too to your clit a few times just to hear you whine. “You think you can take me baby?” he asks you. He sees the wide look in your eyes and he knows you're nervous. After all, you could barely fit two of Mitsur's fingers. And now you were moving on to seven girthy inches of cock. Your boyfriend was not a small man. 

He places a comforting hand on your stomach, “you don't have to if you don't want to baby” he reminds you. 

You nod your head, you know but, “I want to” you express, “but how is it supposed to fit… inside”*you say. 

Mitsuri pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder, “he's gonna go slow mama, give you time for that pretty pussy to adjust, okay?” She tells you and you cling to the calmness the words bring you. 

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly and Obanai can't help but lean forward and press a kiss on your pretty lips. 

“Only a baby,” he says honestly, then it'll feel good, just as good as earlier, he tells you. And you nos, nervously biting at your bottom lip. 

“O-okay, m'ready”* you say and Obanai crawls back, positioning your legs wide for him.

Mitsuri’s soft hands come to caress your tits, rolling your nipple around to distract you. Her lips pressed kisses to your throat, as you moaned. 

The distraction worked until you didn't, when you felt Obanai position himself at your entrance, pushing his cock in as slow as he could. 

You let out a pained wince as his head slipped in, letting out an uncomfortable sigh. Mitsuri's quick to shush you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “It's okay baby girl.” she tells you. 

Obanai watches your face as he pushes farther in. His heart aches at every pained whimper, grateful that Mitsuri was comforting you 

“It's almost in Mama, good job,” she tells you, and you moan when you feel Obanai's pelvis flush against you. It was a weird feeling. Almost uncomfortable but not as bad as it was at first.

You only grow louder when Obanai leans forward to kiss your lips, his cock shuffling inside you. “I knew you could take it, proud of you baby.” he tells you. 

The pain is bad at first when he pulls out of you and pushes back in. It hurts no matter how gentle he tries to be. But the pain turns into stinging. That stinging starts to make your back arch. And soon he's thrusting into you with no resistance. His thrusts feel as good as Mitsuri's fingers curling inside you. 

It was such a new feeling. Having something so thick and big inside you. It was weird, but it felt good, really good. 

“F-fuck” you curse under your breath, lidded eyes staring at the man stuffing you with his cock. You were a mess, body sweaty, hair disheveled. 

Not that Obanai was any better. He didn't know someone could be this tight. You had to be doing this on purpose, pussy trying to milk him for all he's worth. And it was taking an embarrassing amount of effort not to let go right now. 

Mitsuri was smiling, watching you make Obanai's dick disappear. It was such a pretty sight, hearing the sounds your pussy made. 

The pleasure was intense and you turned to Mitsuri, grasping her arm to ground yourself. 

“How's it feel mama, you like it?”Mitsuri asks you, a gentle hand caressing your torso. 

You nod your head, “I-I like it. ” you tell her, biting your lip and Mitsuri smiles as she leans in to kiss your pretty lips. She always takes your breath away when she kisses you. Conveying everything she feels for you with a battle of your tongues. 

Obanai draped one of your legs over his shoulder and you were keen as his cock seemed to plow deeper into you. 

Mitsuri pulls away with a smile, watching you try and take your boyfriend's cock, “it's deep, isn't it baby?”

You nod your head, looking over at her with the most adorable look on your face. Eyes laced with need and hazed with pleasure. “I-its so deep” you stutter out. 

Obanai smirks at that and Mitsuri catches it, rolling her eyes at him with a giggle. 

Her hands trail down your stomach, pressing down right over where Obanai was inside you,” yeah, you feel him right here mama?” She asks and you can barely respond. The pressure on your stomach makes your legs quake a little. 

Obanai's hips only fasten their pace and you swear every time his fat tip slams against that perfect spot inside you you're gonna die.

Your boyfriend above you is lost in pleasure, low groans of your name tumbling from his lips as he pounds your pussy. Pressing kisses up your ankle, sucking one of your toes into his mouth. 

The feeling made you giggle, but ain't nothing funny about Mitsuri's sneaky hand trailing down your stiffened clit. 

You let out a whimper, reaching to grab Mitsuri's wrist. But you would never be stronger than her, not in a million years. You swore the laughter she let out was evil as she swirled mean circles around your clit. 

But all Obanai saw in front of him was a pair of angels. It was such a gorgeous sight, his two girls in front of him. Blissed out together. The body's rocking with the weight of each of his thrusts. 

The hand that wasn't busy spreading your legs apart reaches to spread Mitsuri's. The girl let out a soft gasp, her hand stuttering on your clit as Obanai thumbed hers. 

Her moans were loud as her boyfriend played with practiced expertise. Fingers rubbing side to side on her slit before he presses two fingers deep into her. They slipped right in, the love hashira's pussy a soaked mess.

“Shh” he shushes both of you and you both do. Biting your lips to restrain the pillowy moans leaving your lips. 

Now with the two of you quiet, you could hear the filthy sounds of your pussy, squelching and soaked. Making the prettiest noises. Mitsuri's fingers seem to regain power as she goes back to swirling your clit between her fingers. She playfully bites at your ear, “you sound so pretty mama” she slurs in your ear. 

You turn and press a kiss to her lips, your hand moving to play with her clit. Mitsuri's tongue goes slack as pleasure shivers through her. 

The faster the two of your hands got on each other the closer the two of you got. And it wasn't long before you were squirming, feeling something different for the first time Mitsuri made you cum. 

You cling onto her with one arm, the other gripping Obanai’s flexed arm. “I-I think I'm gonna cum!”*you gasp out. 

Obanai nods, “go on baby, you can do it,” he says. 

“M'close to baby, s-so close” Mitsuri moans. As if reading each other's minds you both speed up your hands, rubbing mean circles against each other's clits. 

“Ooooh, i-i'm cumming!” you whine and you barely have time to process what's happening before pleasure hits you from the ends of your ears to the tips of your toes

Mitsuri wasn't far behind you, her creamy pussy making a mess on Obanai's hand. He curled his fingers within her, smiling as she screamed, thighs squeezing around his hand. 

His thrusts into you never ceased, it felt like you were floating. 

You were still in a daze but Mitsuri came down from her high before you. Getting the honor of seeing Obanai Iguro break. 

He was barely holding back, just trying to fuck you through it so he could cum. And at this point, he didn't care about where. In or out. But your pussy was gripping onto him for dear life. He wasn't gonna last any longer. 

“In or out doll?” Obanai gasps. 

But you could barely answer, too fucked out to think. The overstimulation was so much to take, and you couldn't squirm, not with the death grip your boyfriend had on your leg. Humping into you as he pants, waiting for your answer. 

A swift slap to your clit has your eyes wide and open in no time and the fast circles that have you moaning out a jumbled-up string of pleas. For what exactly? You weren't sure. 

“Did you hear him mama?”Mitsuri asks and you shake your head. “He asks if you want him to cum in or out of you?”

The question brings heat to your cheeks and right down to your clit. It was getting hard to focus. The constant stimulation makes another orgasm build up in you. But this one felt like it might break you. 

“W-which one do you like? ” you ask Mitsuri. 

And she smiles, “I like it when he cums inside me.”

“T-then that, inside.” you say, eyes rolling back in your head as her fingers speed up on your clit. 

Mitsuri turns to Obanai, giggling at his blushed red face. “you heard her, baby, go on fuck it deep in her.“

Obanai groans loudly as he cums, and you gasp as you feel his loud shoot into you. You cum with him, the white load painting your walls sending you over the edge. 

It takes a long time for you to come to and by then, Obanai had pulled his stick cock out of you, and Mitsuri was stroking your forehead with her clean hand. 

They each press a kiss to your cheek, marveling at how fast you had fallen asleep. Chest rising and falling peacefully. 

“She can't go to sleep, we have to clean her up. ” Mitsuri says softly. 

But Obanai shakes his head leaning to press another kiss to your forehead, “I'll run her a bath in thirty.” he says. 

“Let our pretty girl rest”

First one down, 14 more to go!!!!!!!~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024»☆★

Taglist: @nousija, @miiiturix, @kittylovecatssuff,

[running-with-kn1ves]

Okay but a darling who tries their hardest to "fix" and train their yandere. They put up with every bloody, obsessive shenanigan in the hopes that they can have a semi-regular relationship with the person they thought they were dating. You see, everything was fine the first month of the honeymoon phase-- regular cute dates and normal presents like bouquets and nicknacks-- even if they were overly frequent. It didn't take long for Yandere's true colors to show, possessiveness chaining Darling to their home and rushes in relationship milestones that normally take years to achieve.

By the third month, Darling has moved into their Yandere's home. Sure, it's fast, but how else are they going to alter a bloodthirsty stalkers' bad habits? But Darling didn't realize how much of a chore it would be to handle their Yan 24/7. Other than the constant reassurances of love and physical affection, they have to talk them down from murdering any coworkers or adding a military-grade security system to the home in an event of Darling trying to escape break up with them.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

" I love you, there's no one else, how could you accuse me of that!"

Even with Darling complying continuously, wearing the ankle bracelet their Yan begs them to keep on, not leaving (or atleast, not telling Yan when they do) the house without their loving spouse-- Yandere still has paranoid visions, imagining footsteps at night, clothes that belong to them that they think are from another. But Darling is persistent, denying any sort of sneaking around and consoling their Yan in the process. I mean, who could sneak around when all they do is think of and take care of someone else continuously? And even when Yandere gets threatening, drugging takeout that was supposed to be a fun surprise and keeping Darling in the basement for a week, Darling always waits patiently for them to come back to their senses, to negotiate and bribe their way back out when Yan brings meals and requests cuddle time.

Maybe once or twice they've worried about being murdered, but they know their Yandere just loves too much, has too much affection for them to rationally contain. So they see the beast as tameable, talking them down off ledge after ledge, never bolting even with open doors and free feet. But will that be enough to convince their Yandere, to satiate their fear of abandonement and desire to trap before their prey can even think of escaping?

[minkieater]

carousel – choi san ☄. *. ⋆

p. choi san x fem!reader g. non idol au, college boy!san w. smut minors dni PLS, alcohol consumption, smut is kinda kinky, toxic relationship, uhh san rocks you suck an. hello please don't be mad at me this had to happen for the lore, i also had to name you, apologies, if you share a name with shawty then congrats! if you've read luck you'll see some familiar stuff here, feel free to let me know anything you pick up on heheheh but seriously pls don't be mad at me wc. 10.7k

♫ – tear you apart, she wants revenge “it's only just a crush, it'll go away, it's just like all the others it'll go away or maybe this is danger and he just don't know”

cycle (sī-kel) noun a course or series of events or operations that recur regularly and usually lead back to the starting point

choi san regularly bounced between two moods. 

the first being a state of contentment, the second being complete and utter destruction. when he was content, the two of you were usually on good terms, and he felt good enough that he could keep his life on track. he could get his work done, he could go to classes, he could socialize with his peers with a smile on his face. 

when that peace was disturbed, more often than not by you, he was an absolute train wreck. all he could think about was you you you and when the two of you would fix things, if the two of you were really done this time, if he could reconcile the situation. sitting in class, remembering choreography at practice, being behind the bar at work… he couldn’t do a damn thing right. it wouldn’t be surprising if he forgot his own name when you were on bad terms. 

san has never been a fighter. when arguments arise he’s usually never the one that starts them, he’s the one begging to end them, opting for a peaceful compromise instead. despite the way he looks, san is a softie, something that took you by surprise and kept you by his side for almost a year.

you know him. you know his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite album, his parents’ names, where he grew up, why he’s in school, who’s putting him through school, his biggest fear, his dream in life. you see how he looks at you, how he drops everything for you in a second, how he talks about you when you aren’t around to defend yourself. you know him better than you know yourself sometimes — you’ve been two peas in a pod since the beginning of your sophomore year, but yet the same question remains. one he’s asked you hundreds of times, one you could never find an answer to without breaking his heart. 

so instead you pick fights, argue to your heart’s content, damn near terrorize him on the regular just for the same fact to be true: choi san also knows everything about you. 

he knows exactly why you aren’t together, why you beat around the bush every time he asks you that same question, the sole reason why you freak the fuck out every time he asks you to give him just a little bit more. choi san knows very well that his love is unrequited, and he understands even the things you won’t tell him. he knows who you really love, he knows you’ve loved him since the summer before your freshman year, when you met at that concert. he notices when your eyes are the brightest, who you’re looking at when he wished you were looking at him, when you laugh the loudest. he notices everything.

if he’s anything, it’s observant. he’s been hanging out with you and your friends since way before he was your little secret, he’s been on your friends’ rooftop for parties more times than he can count. the first time the two of you slept together he couldn’t believe it was actually happening, the second you looked at him with lowered eyes and glossy lips he thought his eyes had been deceiving him for months prior. you looked at him like he was your last meal, your prey that you caught with your bare hands, you needed to have him or you’d die of starvation. he let you take the reins, took it all in with open arms, he wasn’t going to question a thing. for how long you had been obsessed with chan, he’d been obsessed with you. 

you’d met early in your freshman year, when chan had first gotten his apartment shared with three others, when they first started throwing their legendary parties that had been the talk of campus for ages to follow. san had gotten the invite through wooyoung, his best friend, whose close friend has dated chan’s roommate since freshman year. the moment he first saw you was nothing short of a movie scene, you were on the dance floor, definitely one too many drinks deep. you were dancing with felix, holding his hand, twirling your hair as he spun you in a circle. your smile, your eyes that were shut so delicately, your body that moved with such a fluidity, you were the embodiment of freedom. you looked like you couldn’t care less about anything, like the moon went down and the sun came up just so you could breathe another day. the world revolved around you. it was like everything he had ever done in his life leading up to this moment, each decision he made was to get him on this rooftop at this moment in the middle of soho. 

san had a few drinks himself and found himself on the dance floor right beside you. minho was with him, a close friend from his dance class, and then felix beside you. he couldn’t help but steal you for himself. he brought out the dancer inside of him but still followed your lead, spun you himself just as felix had, let your backside dance across his front one too many times for comfort. you picked up on how he was holding back, letting himself match you instead of taking the lead, and you couldn’t ignore how it sparked your interest. anyone besides felix that wasn’t in your group of close friends would be mindlessly grinding against you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk, but not him. 

for a moment you let yourself think the bar is deep in hell, then you introduced yourself (more like screamed your name at him) over the pounding music that could be heard two blocks down. the first thing you noticed were his broad shoulders before you took in the rest of his clearly strong build. complex, fox-like eyes that held too much power in them and a sweet smile that contrasted his hard demeanor, it all vexed you, but intrigued you so much more. 

out of everything, his hands give you the most whiplash. where they were long and limber they felt soft and warm, even the calluses on his palms somehow felt softer than every man you’ve ever come in contact with. compared to his chest which felt hard and strong, the contradicting features forced your mind straight in the gutter. there’s no doubt he’s beautiful, anyone could see that from first glance, but in that deep, hypnotizing voice he has, you could hear what kept itself hidden. it was a facade, that build and sexy voice, you could tell just from a few words that he’s not what he appears to be. 

at first glance you’d assume he was just like any typical guy, buff and egotistical and harsh. but looking for a moment in those eyes, listening to that soft voice, you could hear what he wasn’t saying, like his thoughts were being displayed for you on a silver platter. they enticed you to dig deeper, peel him open layer by layer, find out what no one else knows. beyond warm hands and a sturdy build, there was a softness to him that wasn’t inside of any other man on that rooftop. except one other. 

by the end of the night, minho had led san to the notorious smoking corner, where he’d come to learn the same people tend to gather and hangout towards the end of the night. thankfully, one of those people was you, and the rest of your little group of friends that he’d later come more than acquainted with. none of you really smoke, which was the weird part, the smokers would come and go around your seating area, but it was still named the smoking corner despite it. 

“you said your name was san, right?” you asked, an inviting smile on your face as he sat down right next to you on one of the cushioned chairs. it happened to be the only one open and had him thanking a god he didn’t believe in for the small favor. 

he nodded quickly, tight lipped smile on his face, dimples on display. even with the liquor he was nervous, he wasn’t one to spark up conversation, especially at a party like this. “you’re a dancer?”

“how’d you know?” your smile somehow got bigger, eyes widening with surprise, “i’ve danced my whole life.”

he shrugs, “one dancer to another.”

“you go to NYU?” you asked, turning your body to face him in your own chair.

“dance program, i’m in the same hip hop class as minho,” he pointed to minho who was standing somewhere to the side of the two of you. 

“ah,” you nod with a smile, “that makes sense, i’m in the theater program, i originally wanted to be in the dance program, though.”

“hey guys,” the two of you looked up at the same time, another pair of broad shoulders, massive biceps, and a beautiful smile staring straight at you. you could feel your heart rate pick up, your breath get caught in your throat, a heat cascading over you like the rooftop had suddenly raised fifteen degrees. 

san could feel his smile leave his face as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. the way your eyes lit up, the pink that raised to your cheeks, how you slightly stumbled over your words when you first spoke to him, he tried not to let his expression drop to a scowl. he knows you like him, maybe even love him, he couldn’t decide from the short interaction between the three of you. not that he wanted to know, anyways. 

san decided then and there that chan was his enemy, a one sided war he was willing to put up the good fight for. from a quick dance and a conversation, he had decided you were worth the fight, you were worth the long game, you were worth whatever it took to get you. he thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to win you over, with some effort and consistency, he should be the one you look at the way he desperately wants you to in no time. he knew he was good looking, he sees how women fawn over him left and right at parties, only sometimes letting them get any further then silly attempts to take him home. that ping of jealousy only jumpstarts his motivation, begs him to tap into whatever is making these women throw themselves at him.  

five parties and three months later, you made him feel like he was in the lead. small conversations here and there, longer dances that with each party turned more and more scandalous, once or twice you clearly felt him behind you on the dance floor and you didn’t pull away, you kept going until you made it so evident he couldn’t hide it in his jeans. moments of hands brushing and stolen glances across the smoking corner, he waited long enough, but he’d wait however long it took for you.

the night when you gave him that look that he knew meant you were taking him home, he couldn’t contain his excitement, he couldn’t hide anything from you already. you could see it all over his face, he could tell from the smirk you wore on your own lips and the cocky laugh you let out. you were playing with fire, and his specialty was water.

you knew he wanted you from the first time you met. whether he knew it about himself or not, despite his easygoing words and soft hands, you knew there was a side to him you desperately needed to unveil, you needed to experience, you needed to know like the back of your hand. it felt like tainting his innocence the more you got to know him, his personality reflected the opposite of what he portrayed on the outside. from that hard, chiseled look he has to the soft, tender persona, you wanted to tear him apart. you wanted to know what made him tick, what pissed him off, what got under his skin, how he acted when it did. 

you had him exactly where you wanted him, and he was letting it happen, fully aware of the attraction that was finally being returned. you looked at him differently that night, and unbeknownst to him, it was deliberate.

chan was out of sight, off with some dark haired girl he met hours prior. you watched the scene unfold in front of you, from when they exchanged names and phone numbers down to the moment when chan took her hand and led her inside his apartment. you watched them over heads through the dance floor, keeping your vision focused on the two of them like some fucked up form of tunnel vision. like what they say about trainwrecks, you should look away, but for some reason you can’t. your skin was burning, you were beyond angry, feeling an emotion that laid somewhere outside of what you’d ever experienced toward him. betrayal? abandonment? treachery?

none of your feelings were valid, chan had no idea how you felt, you never told him. he was more than allowed to take whatever dark haired bitch he wanted into his own damn apartment that seungmin’s dad pays for, that’s more than permissible. you have an apartment too, one that you and your roommate pay for yourselves, one that you could also take someone back to. your life didn’t revolve around him, his actions would not determine how your night would go, despite the feelings you have for him.

that’s when choi san caught your eye, across the crowd with his gorgeous face and incredible body. you felt the light bulb flash above your head, you knew exactly what would take the edge off, what would mend the heart chan had just broken in two. 

“you know, we always hangout here, but we never see each other outside of these parties,” you flipped your hair over your shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“never thought you wanted to,” he shrugs, lowered eyes watching your every move like he was waiting for the switch to flip.

“and why wouldn’t i want to? have you looked in a mirror recently?” it felt lame when it left your mouth, he didn’t seem to agree as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. he turned away from you, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

“every morning at the gym, gotta make sure my form is right,” his shy smile turned into a faint smirk, and your own grows, hints of mischief creeping at the corners. you knew exactly what he was doing, mentioning the gym. like a moth to a flame, your eyes glazed over his biceps, which he flexed the moment your eyes left his. 

“every morning? very disciplined, aren’t you?” you ask, smile turning lopsided and nothing short of flirty. 

“very,” he nodded his head, “you should come with me sometime, get you some discipline, too.”

“and what about me makes you think i’m not disciplined?” your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head.

with that question his smile grows, dimples showing themselves once more. “brats always need discipline, and that’s exactly what you are. a little tease.”

your smile displays all of your teeth, exactly the answer you were hoping for. the side you knew he had in him, that version of him not many get to see, excitement flooded through you like a tidal wave. you were on a power trip, your plan worked with ease, you wanted to pat yourself on the back. 

“do something about it,” you sipped your drink through your tiny straw, staring at him through your lashes once again. 

within thirty minutes you were back at your place in manhattan, your roommate still at the party, you didn’t even let her know you left. in that one conversation you’d forgotten all about chan, the girl with the dark hair, and why you were in this situation in the first place. all you could think about was san, with his dark chocolate eyes and honeyed skin and arms strong enough to flip you around. you were overflowing with adrenaline, excitement, and greed. you wanted all of him, needed all of him, a need that has been lying dormant for months. you’d been curious about him, wanted to know what he kept hidden inside, too focused on chan to dig deeper into him.

san couldn’t fucking believe it. couldn’t believe he was in your bed, your walls that were covered in posters of rock bands and singers from the 80s, some faces he’s seen before and plenty of others he hasn’t. records cover one wall, soundtracks from different musicals, little trinkets filling every inch of open space on your bookshelves. your room was so undeniably you, from the smell to the color scheme, he took every inch of it and burned it to memory. he tried not to stare too much in his learning, telling himself to focus on you instead, he’d he back, this isn’t a one time thing. he couldn’t be more right. 

the moment his lips touched yours he couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without tasting you. a kiss so sweet, so rushed, so hungry, he’d never felt anything like it. he knew you'd wreck him, become too important to him, become a valued person in his life, for a moment he thought maybe he should stop – this was all too good to be true. 

when you whimpered in his mouth after a light grind to his crotch, he took all of his thoughts back. there was no stopping this, no hands could pry him off of you, he needed to see every bit of you. he needed to kiss every inch of your skin, inhale the scent of your sweat, he yearned to worship you. he wanted all of you, he needed to rein himself in, not get too excited so he could last. 

you fought for dominance on his lap, tongues in a rushed wrestle, strong thighs wrapped around his hips. as those soft hands of his squeezed the fat of your ass, you let out a yelp, grinding yourself into him. you wanted to hear any kind of noise, any harsh breath he might release. you wanted control, he didn’t want to give it up, at least not without a fight.

he scooped your waist with one arm, flipping you over, pressing you flat against the mattress. you mustered out a hushed fuck as the realization finally hit you: his biceps aren’t just for aesthetics, the sheer strength of one is enough to throw you around, and it’s strength he will use to his advantage. 

“as much as i want to be thrown around,” you broke the kiss for a moment, “save it for the next time.”

you wrapped your legs around his waist and lunged yourself forward with your hands, hips on top of his once more, your bodies sitting upright. as much as you wanted to revel in the gain of dominance, you knew he just willingly allowed you to do that, he could’ve stopped you with ease if he wanted to.

“see what i mean? brat,” he broke the kiss again with a huff, a smirk painting his own lips for a moment before returning them to yours. 

your right hand moved up to grip his throat, pushing him an inch away from you. on his lap you were taller, staring down at him, he looked up at you with a spark in his eyes you haven't seen yet. his eyebrows furrowed, not in confusion or hurt, but want. need. he liked this, he wanted this, and you couldn’t help the wicked smile that touched every feature on your face. 

“watch your mouth,” you tilted your chin up, looking down at him at a harsher angle, the act itself a display of dominance. in combination with the harsh tone to your words, he nearly quivered in your grasp. a strangled groan left his lips as your grip tightened for a moment, blocking his airway, before releasing him completely. you reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head with ease. 

“look at you, so fucking sexy,” you said as the cotton hit the floor, examining his exposed upper half in awe. chiseled abs, even sitting down, and a chest you’re sure could knock you out if it came in contact with your head. he was beautiful, perfect even, not an inch of him unsculpted. 

his breath turned heavy under your stare, eyes lowering into a different version of himself, a submission of sorts. he had no fight left in them, he gave up control, let you take it, and you were going to run with it. 

you brought your lips to his jaw, kissing down his neck, hands running over every inch of bare skin. he tugged at your top at the same time, tugging it over your head, unclasping your bra with just one hand. 

“done that before?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a playful smile, and he chuckled. 

“once or twice,” his reply was mindless as you fumbled with his belt buckle beneath you, slipping it out of the loops, throwing it to the floor. 

“hungry?” you asked and his eyes quickly met yours, confusion crossing them before realization set in. you didn’t wait for an answer as you pushed him back on the bed with your index finger to his chest, not having to muster up any force at all. 

you quickly sat up and slipped off your jeans and underwear, leaving yourself bare in front of him. he leaned up on his elbows for just a moment before you crawled back on top of him, further up his body until you sat right over his face. 

“no touching unless i tell you to,” your voice was stern, he nodded in understanding and you took that as the green light to plant yourself on his awaiting face. 

you moaned the moment his tongue came in contact with your soaked center, lapping up everything you had to offer. you stilled for a moment, letting him work himself on you, his tongue gliding through your wetness. 

“fuck, sannie, so fucking good,” you moaned out, a hand reaching down to tug at his styled black hair. he groaned in response, hands lifting off of the bed, but they didn’t touch you, didn’t even come close. 

you started riding his face and he stuck his tongue out in response to your movements, letting you have your way with him, grinding back and forth to use him for your own release. if you weren’t gone in your own pleasure you would’ve smiled at the eagerness, the willingness to please you. 

“fingers, please baby,” you gasped out, babbling your words, “need you to make me cum. you wanna make me cum, don’t you? all over your face?” 

his right hand came between your legs to slip two fingers inside of you, mouth moving up to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves. he curved his fingers toward himself immediately, hitting that one spot inside of you that made you see stars, you started babbling and whining praise like you’d been doing this together for years. 

“so fucking good sannie, fuck,” you cried out, grinding yourself against him, the knot in your stomach tightening with every harsh suck to your clit. he brought his other hand up to smack your ass and you moaned out, the dam bursting, your release coating his fingers, past his knuckles. you rode out your high, his fingers and mouth working in tandem to get you through it before overstimulation set in. 

“mm, taste so fucking good baby, could eat you all night,” he announced the second you lifted yourself off of him, his voice octaves lower than earlier. you watched as he licked his lips so erotically, the action making you want to sit yourself back on his face and ride him until he couldn’t breathe. 

you sat next to him on the bed after climbing off of him instead, your orgasm took the need for control right out of you, you had your fill. you wanted to be taken care of, filled up, you didn’t want to think about anything other than your own pleasure. always observant san picked up in your change of energy, letting his own switch to another before continuing. 

“need to be inside you,” he said as he sat up, taking his jeans and boxers off in one go, “you have a condom?” 

you shimmied yourself down the bed, head hitting the pillow before you shook it, “‘m on the pill.” 

“dirty girl, where did that energy from earlier go? hm?” that dangerous smirk returned to his face, his dominance returning in just one sentence, “did i eat it all out of you? wanna be a good girl for me now?” 

he leaned himself over you, strong arms beside your head caging you in. you lifted your knees up to your elbows, spreading yourself for him.

“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling the tinge of embarrassment, “fuck me already.” 

“that wasn’t very polite, thought you were ready to behave,” he shook his head, “only girls with manners get fucked. should i put my pants back on, go back home?” 

“no! no, don’t go,” your arms came up to grab onto his, your eyes widening, “i’m sorry, i’ll be good. please, san, i need you.” 

a wicked smile crossed his face before he leaned down to plant a kiss on your own, “good, i hoped so. breathe for me, okay?”

you glanced down between your legs, realizing you hadn’t even seen him. you nearly gasped at the size of him, eyes widening, his length was perfect but the girth of him was more than intimidating. he spit into his hand, stroking himself, lubing himself up to slide into you easier. you nearly drooled at the sight, mouth agape, pussy clenching around nothing.

the whole act felt so sinful, so carnal, you so easily opened up to him with a side of yourself you don’t show until you’re fully comfortable. you blame your adrenaline, your hormones, how horny you were when you arrived, ignoring the real fact of how comfortable he made you feel to show so much of yourself to him. 

as he lined himself up you couldn’t ignore how it all felt right, you’ve had undeniable attraction to him for months now, but this… this was something entirely different. this was a beginning, the prologue chapter of a novel, the first episode to seasons spent with him. when he pushed himself into you and you had to physically remind yourself to breathe, you had to acknowledge that he fit so perfectly with you, his body felt like it was meant to be above yours. these weren’t feelings of a quick fuck, feelings from a one night stand, this was raw, intimate, unique. special. 

“so fucking big,” you huffed out, voice strained, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing at his biceps. 

“breathe, baby, you got it,” he praised you, encouraged you, and it did what it needed to. you breathed in and out, let him sheathe himself inside of you. as he bottomed out he groaned, a beautiful noise, one that could lure you to sleep if you heard it enough. he stayed there for a moment, letting you get used to the stretch, letting you relax around him. 

“so fuckin’ tight, baby, breathe,” he instructed, leaning down on his elbows to kiss you, distract you, take your mind off of the stretch. you tried your best to relax your muscles, unclench yourself from around him. 

“there you go,” his praises were a sweet song, easing you out of discomfort, “tell me when i can move.” 

you waited a few moments, returning your lips to his before grinding yourself against him. you felt your slick coating him, helping you glide up and down, and he let you for a moment — just a moment before he knew for sure you were comfortable. 

he pulled all the way out before bottoming out once more, and you yelped into his mouth, breaking the kiss to let your head lean back into the pillow.

“there it is, there we fucking go,” he mumbled as he started on a rhythm, “good fucking girl.” 

a string of moans left your lips, your hands still clawing at his biceps, body reacting to him without your brain allowing it. “so fucking good sannie.”

“thought you were so fucking badass earlier, huh? ordering me around like i’m your bitch?” that smirk returned to his lips again and all you could do was moan, staring at him through half lidded eyes, “look at you now, baby. all lifeless and limp, all for this dick?” 

“yes, san, all for you. just for you,” you mumble, words jumbling together, not knowing if your words even sounded clear. 

“yeah, baby, just as i thought, all for me,” he pistols himself into you, grabbing your hips, making you meet his thrusts. you were losing your strength, letting him have his way with you, just an incoherent mess beneath him. 

he reaches forward and grabs your jaw, “don’t go anywhere, eyes on me.”

you look up to him, eyes wide, that fuzzy space you were slipping into locked away for now, “you can go there eventually, not yet, not this time.” 

your eyes started to roll back as he shifted his hips upward, the mushroom tip of him rolling against that one spot so deliciously. with how quickly that knot formed once more in your stomach, you were surprised that drool wasn’t slipping down your chin. 

“right there, please don’t stop, gonna make me cum,” you can’t even hear yourself, so drunk on his dick, his assertiveness, you loved it. you’d never had your energy matched like this, never had a fuck like this, never had someone know you so quickly and easily. 

“hold it,” he ordered, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. how could he expect you to hold it, when he was hitting that spot too perfectly, doing everything in his power to get you there?

“i swear, do not fucking cum,” he smacked your hip and tears formed in your eyes trying to hold it, fighting every nerve in your body to not release around him. 

“i can’t! i can’t,” you babble, tears falling down your cheeks, and he released a long fuck, his voice dropping even lower. 

“cum for me, want you to cum around me, please,” his orders turned to begs quickly after he saw your tears. he leaned forward to wipe them off your face, bringing his fingers up to his lips. the string snapped and you gushed around him, legs shaking, a loud cry leaving your lips, probably heard in queens from the sheer volume of it. 

“where do you want me?” he quickly asked, his own words sounding shaky, slurring together. 

“inside, inside,” you begged, reaching up to cup his cheeks. he leaned down to kiss you as he released himself inside you, filling you up, thrusts slowing as he worked himself through it. 

he stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, heavy breaths being poured into each other’s mouths. he sighed as his forearms began to shake, finally pulling out of you, laying next to you.

“you okay?” he turned his head at the same time as you turned yours, eyes sharing too much of something yet saying nothing of it.

“‘m great, you?” you cracked a smile, the both of you still somewhere that wasn’t here, slowly coming back from two completely different headspaces. he nodded, returning the smile, and the two of you laid there for what felt like ages. 

sleeping with san was something outside of anything you’ve ever done. you’d slept with plenty of people, had plenty of experiences, explored what you liked and didn’t through many trials and errors. to have such an incredible first experience with someone, to have it flow so easily, to match each other so perfectly… it was almost unbelievable, it set unrealistic expectations for anyone you’d ever sleep with again. 

you needed him that night, needed that experience, needed whatever was going to distract you from whatever the hell chan was doing – and it worked. you needed that distraction for months to follow as chan continued to see the dark haired girl, who’s name you came to find out was eden, always hanging around on the rooftop, following him wherever he went. like a roach, never wanted, yet never went away. 

months you spent cooped up in your room, anger flowing through your blood as you watched his instagram stories, cute pictures of her posted every day. posed pictures together in times square, clubs on the weekends, clips of them getting drinks together on a random weekday afternoon. you couldn’t help but pick everything apart – what they were doing was touristy, corny, nothing you would do with him, nothing you would enjoy. you knew chan didn’t enjoy any of that, either. 

every time you pictured dates with him or fantasized about any time spent with him alone was always private, intimate, enriching – you’d be painting together, drinking wine in your living room as you played your favorite board game, watching a tv show from start to finish together. you were in the same major, maybe even studying together, bouncing ideas off of one another for assignments or projects, but nothing so flashy. chan hates time square, hates drinking in the middle of the day, and especially hates clubs unless there was a special occasion. you knew all of these things, you knew him, you felt the same way as him. yet he was still doing all of those things with her, playing in her garden, wasting his time when he should be focused on school, his career, his future, you.

in those months there was only one thing that could make you forget about chan, forget about eden, forget about the situation altogether. during class you were frustrated, in auditions, rehearsals, you couldn’t even study without the tv on and music playing simultaneously. if you had a singular moment of silence your brain took you back to him, took you back to what you could’ve had, what you never tried for in the first place. it was debilitating not being able to get anything done, being so one track minded, the only thing that could make you focus was san. you’d text him daily, always asking him to come over, always ending the night between his thighs. 

he always came, he always said yes, he never once said no to you. he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t make you explain your frustrations, only listened when you did speak about trivial things like school or rehearsal. you didn’t want his opinion, didn’t want his advice, only his company and the pleasure he never had any difficulty in giving you. it was perfect for those months, in your own world, the sanctuary you created in your bedroom with choi san. 

the moment when your relationship changed, you didn’t notice. there was no light bulb, no moment where you consciously started looking at him differently, yet it changed without your knowing or consent. you didn’t acknowledge it when you did notice, you didn’t want to, your heart was saved for another. yet you still talked about everything together, did all of those little things you dreamed of doing with chan. your fears, your dreams, your childhood, your favorite things, you began to know him so intimately without being aware of it. you watched grey’s anatomy with him, you played video games, you drew funky little doodles of each other on your notebooks. 

you started to crave him when he wasn’t around, and not just because he was your distraction, but a friend. he was good for you, he encouraged you to be consistent with school, you practiced lines with him, sang duets from different musicals with him. your relationship was raw, it was truth, it was naked, it was everything you wished for, it was everything you needed at that time. 

san fell for you. he fell so fucking hard, so headfirst, it was a bottomless pit with no end in sight and he couldn’t stop himself from digging further. everything he saw in you that first night was still there, only amplified into something he couldn’t hide anymore. he was at your beck and call, anything you needed, any time of day. he knew why you were so attached to him, he figured it out the second he went to the rooftop with wooyoung again, high off of his night spent with you, ready to see you again. when you were nowhere to be seen and he caught chan with his arm around the girl from his contemporary class, he put the pieces together quick. he knew you must be heartbroken, knew you needed support, a friend who knew nothing about the situation. it quickly made him realize his place in your relationship. 

he fought through the horrific realization with optimism, the returning thought that with time you’d see, you’d realize he was better for you than chan could ever be. as he spent more time with you and got to know you better, it only made his feelings deepen. your laugh, your thoughts, your competitive side, the way you’re so quick to fight back and assert your dominance, but give it up even faster… it was like an addiction, it wasn’t good for him, he knew it wasn’t, he knew it when his grades first started to slip. when he wasn’t on point at practice, too sleep deprived to remember choreography. minho read it all over him, knew something was wrong, knew san had gotten into something he shouldn’t have. 

“what’s up with you, man? this isn’t like you,” it was a rough practice that day. san was sat on the floor with his knees hugged tight to his chest, rubbing his eyes to force the exhaustion out of them. 

“just an off day,” is all san mumbled before he stood up slowly, grabbing his bag to sling over his shoulder.

“off day? you’ve been fucking up for the past week, san, you’re center,” minho put his hand on san’s shoulder, stopping him before he walked away, “they’re gonna put someone else there if you don’t get your shit together.”

“i get it, minho,” san turned his back, and minho’s grip only got tighter.

“what the hell is going on?” he asked, turning san to face him, “you can talk to me, we’re friends, you know.”

san’s hand returned to his face, trying to rub off his discomfort, this feeling that he should keep everything to himself, “it’s a lot.”

“is it a girl?” minho was quick with the question, eyes lowered, seeming to read san before he could get any words out. he started to walk, keeping his hand on san’s shoulder, encouraging him to walk alongside him. 

san answered with a coy nod, the answer seeming too taboo to say out loud. minho was a direct link to chan, he should be happy to talk about the fact that you were sleeping together. what he couldn’t shake off was the fear that you’d be angry at him for telling anyone. 

“did you get her pregnant or something?” humor was laced in minho’s tone, trying to ease up the straightforwardness of the question, but he was genuinely worried by how san had been acting.

san gasped, “preg- no! god, no,” he shook his head, “i hope not.”

minho laughed, “that doesn’t sound convincing. if she’s not pregnant then there’s no reason to be so torn up, why are you?”

they walked out of the building into the wet humidity of the city air, “like i said, it’s a lot. it’s my fault, though.”

“quit beating around the bush and tell me,” minho stood still, staring at san expectantly, “you can trust me.”

“if i’m going to tell you, i need a beer.”

an hour later they were seated at prince, not a popular dive bar in the city, but popular amongst your group of friends and whoever they introduced to it. san nursed his beer, barely getting two sips in before he was spilling everything about the last six months to one of his best friends. 

“i can’t wrap my head around why you keep fucking her if she loves another guy,” minho shrugs, “especially chan, at that. she’s been close with him since he moved to the city.”

“it’s not about fucking her,” san sighed, “i’m in too deep, i think i love her. even if i didn’t, and it was just about sex, it’s too good to stop.”

minho’s jaw physically drops, mouth hanging agape for a moment before he snaps it shut, straightening his left hand to start counting on his fingers, “so you love her, she doesn't know you love her, she loves someone else who’s in a relationship, and you spend every free moment with her. and you have so much sex you don’t sleep.”

san’s lips pull into a tight line, giving minho one long nod in response.

“there’s no way she doesn’t love you back if you’ve spent that much time together in six months, i can’t believe you kept all of this shit hidden for so long. you need to talk shit out, man.”

it was music to his ears, san’s entire body filled with a joy he’d never felt before when no way she doesn’t love you back left minho’s lips. he felt like he was putting a puzzle together in his brain, that actually made perfect sense, how could you not return anything he felt for you? you also experienced all your time together, got just as close to him as he did you. 

he barely gave minho another half hour before he was barreling out of prince and on his way to your apartment. 

“hey baby, how was practi-”

“i need to ask you a question.”

your head whipped to your front door, never hearing san sound so desperate outside of the bedroom. his eyes were blown, his eyebrows raised, fully out of breath from running up the flights of steps to your apartment. your blood ran cold, you knew this question was coming eventually, you were savoring every moment he didn't ask it. you stood slowly, facing him from the couch, eyes expectant.

“i’ll give you an answer,” you replied casually, keeping your voice steady. 

“do you want to be with me?” his words felt empty, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say them, yet he still sounded like he’d been dying to ask the question for months. he didn’t blink, kept his shoulders back, dance bag dangling from his fingertips.

“san,” you said calmly, taking a step towards him. 

“i don’t want to freak you out, please don’t freak out, it’s just been six months and i really enjoy you and your company and i love being around you, i love spending nights with you, the sex is incredible, everything just seems right,” a smile graces his lips with a pause. when you stared back at him in disbelief he panicked, his heart in his throat, “i’m sorry if i freaked you out, this is too much, isn’t it?” 

you took a breath, closing your eyes for a moment. the day you’d been dreading had come – the end of a perfect half year. 

“i can’t be in a relationship right now,” you blurt the first thing that came to mind, and his face dropped immediately. “i enjoy you, i love our time spent together, i love that you’re around all the time, you’ve been a huge help to me these past six months. i couldn’t of done it without you.”

you’ve been told these words before, you’ve been in his position before, you’re spouting the same venom that’s been thrown at you. you felt  as if you were shoved in a corner, not fully believing your own words, but you needed an excuse more than you wanted to say the truth. 

a sad smile crosses his face, “i get it.”

“i don’t want to stop whatever this is,” you walk closer to him, grabbing his hand, “and it could grow into something really great. i’m just not in a position to open my heart to anyone right now.” 

“i know, baby. the last six months have been rough on you,” his heart melted, even if he knew the reason why, he also knew that it really did hurt you. you needed time to heal, time to focus on yourself, time to get back into the dating scene. he’d be there, first in line when you were ready. 

“i knew you’d understand, thank you,” you stood on your toes, attaching your lips to his. ten minutes later you were on your knees, right back to normal like that conversation didn’t even happen. 

in just two weeks you’d started going out more regularly again, meeting your friends at prince, going to chan’s rooftop whenever felix told you to come. your friends that noticed, despite you keeping your appearances up, asked where you’d been, why you’re back, and you gave them the sophomore year bullshit of classes were hard and summer is here again! at your age, parties were a dime a dozen, you had plenty of excuses to be out of the house and away from your issues, stopping reality from hitting you that you were playing with fire once again.

you did have feelings for san, even if it was your own fucked up version. there was no way you couldn’t with how much time you spent together, how much you know about him, how much you care for him. but the other problem that you will never forget is still there, staring at you from across his own rooftop. 

you care for san, but the love you feel for bang christopher chan is so much fucking more.

“hey! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!” his smile is huge as he crosses the crowd, clinking his drink with your own. you blushed, that was basically him saying i missed you. 

“same here, how’s everything been? happy classes are over?” you asked, gripping your drink a little tighter. 

“incredibly happy classes are over, even happier this terrible fucking year is over,” he chuckled, “me and eden broke up, i don’t know if you heard. she cheated on me with some columbia architect, whatever.”

broke up? he’s… single again?

your jaw dropped, and you fought to keep the excitement to a minimum, “no, i didn’t know, i’m so sorry, channie. fuck her and that architect!”

he laughed again, a belly laugh that made you want to jump his bones, “what about you, though? seeing anyone?”

his question took you by surprise, “i- uh, no, i’m not,” your giggle was nervous, wanting to change the subject immediately. san crossed your mind, a thought you quickly shut down.

“you’re never seeing anyone, dude, we have to set you up with somebody, can’t go through your whole college experience without a shitty boyfriend or two,” it was a joke, a bad one, but it still made heat rise to your whole upper half. why was he asking? he’s never asked about your love life before. 

“i’m good off a shitty boyfriend, i’d rather be alone if that’s the case,” you shake your head, then sip through your tiny straw. 

“suit yourself,” he palmed your shoulder with a hand that completely enveloped it, and you felt the skin underneath burn. 

you felt eyes boring into your head from behind you, and you quickly turned, scanning the area. you saw your roommate and her boyfriend in the smoking corner, minho and han, then san, who was leaning against the concrete of the wall separating the rooftop from the drop to the ground below. like a hawk, he watched you through lowered eyes, taking in every move. you quickly turned back around, expecting chan to still be there, but he was gone, probably off being a good host to his party. you wiped the chill off of you, finishing off your drink, dismissing the guilty feeling creeping up your spine because chan is single again. determination washes over you, this time you’d be hell bent upon telling him how you feel, finally getting your chance to be with him. it was your turn this time. 

san was beyond frustrated. watching you talk to chan after all of these months, even from afar, picking up your body language, he was sick to his stomach. the way you shifted from foot to foot, unconsciously leaned into his touch, flipped your hair behind your back to show off your décolletage, san could pick up on exactly what you were thinking and he hated it. 

san wasn’t in the lead, he was forever the number two, your favorite best kept hidden secret. he was sick of it, sick of being with you behind closed doors, sick of dropping everything for you, sick of being under your spell. he knew his place, knew it enough to where he didn’t even approach you on the rooftop. he knew there would be a call, a text, a fucking messenger pigeon that would get him in your bed tonight, he was sure of it. when chan went back inside the apartment for the night and didn’t have a soul beside him, he knew exactly how the outcome of the night would go, and he was excited for it. 

as san slammed your apartment door shut behind him, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, turning to furrow your eyebrows. the two of you ended up leaving together, an outcome that wasn’t on his list of possibilities – no messenger pigeon needed. he was surprised, he didn’t think you’d even want to be seen getting in the same car as him. 

“what was that for?” the slam startled you, it was unlike him, he was delicate with everything he did.

“i’m sick of this, ri,” he shook his head, standing by the entrance to your kitchen, not following you into the living room. your stomach dropped, you should’ve seen this coming.

“what do you mean?” you opted for obliviousness after a pause, unsure of how to go about this conversation again after your last one was just two weeks ago. 

“i’m sick of being your secret, whatever the hell i am to you,” he ran a hand through his hair, “actually, that’s a good question. what am i to you, riley?”

you gulped, your eyes widening, coming to yet another moment of silence. you didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know how to tell him what you didn’t know yourself. 

“you don’t know? or you know and can’t say it?” he understands your silence, using his hands as he speaks, “tell me the truth.”

“i don’t know, san, a friend?” your voice is unsure, small. you wanted to shrink yourself, wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. this is the first time you’ve seen this side of him, you and san had never argued before, the last time you had this talk it didn’t have any anger or frustration. 

“a friend? i’m a friend?” he laughs, a sarcastic chuckle that you’ve never heard leave his lips. you must’ve gotten away with it two weeks ago, this was really the end, there was only one way this talk could go. “a friend that knows every inch of you, a friend that’s spent more time here the past six months than the apartment they still pay rent at? that’s a fucking joke, riley.”

tears gathered in your eyes, ones that you weren’t exactly sure why they were there, you felt caught. bombarded with a choice you didn’t want to make. he was finally understanding your web of lies, finally over it, over you. you weren’t ready to let him go, you wanted to continue to live in your bubble with him, you wanted him to stay. you didn’t let them fall.

“what do you want me to say?” you don’t have a rebuttal, you don’t have any sly words that could change the topic, even momentarily change what he’s feeling. you chose anger, deflection.

“i want more, ri. i want you, i’ve wanted you since i met you. there’s no way you don’t know that,” he sighs, turning around, running that same hand through his hair. 

“and i can’t give you more, san, so what do you want me to do? force myself into something i’m not ready for? i’ve told you my piece,” you walk towards him, standing just a few steps from him.

“no, riley, i don’t want you to force yourself into being with me, that’s ridiculous. when we’re in public you barely look at me, let alone speak to me. what are you so afraid of? why can’t anyone know about… this?” he turned around, his own eyes glossy, looking down at you through damp eyelashes. your blood ran cold, colder than it had been from the moment he slammed the door, that familiar guilty feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. 

“why do you need people to know? why do you need our relationship to be publicized? is being with me, here like this, not enough for you?” the laugh you let out was dry, calculated, “if it’s not enough then maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” 

a small gasp left his lips, barely audible it could’ve been just an intake of air, his visage twisted the moment you spoke those words. with his lips and eyebrows turned downward, that slight anger, frustration, morphed into a sadness you never wanted to see again. 

“that’s not what i want,” his voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it, a shy mumble, his gaze pointed downward at his fingers which played with his rings. “i don’t want to fight with you.” 

“i know, baby,” you stepped forward, placing a hand on his soft, reddened cheek, “i don’t want to fight with you, either. want you to be happy.” 

“i’m happy with you,” his voice cracked, a raw tone, as he glanced back up at you. his eyes red, glossed over, full of emotion, it broke your heart. you could never truly make him happy, you knew that, but you could momentarily.

“then let me take care of you,” and that you did, like you always did, the same way you did two weeks ago. you rode him to oblivion, until he forgot why he was upset in the first place, the same thing he did for you six months ago. 

a week later, you’d fought again. plenty of times.

almost every day for the whole week you started an argument over something so fucking stupid and you couldn’t stop. everything he did pissed you off, every time he tried to fix it, it pissed you off even more. you were overflowing with so many different emotions you couldn’t breathe, you needed space, you needed him, you needed chan. you were too overstimulated to think clearly, if you were ever thinking clearly to begin with.

the guilt from not returning his feelings, but not being at ease when he isn’t sleeping in your bed.. it didn’t make any sense. you felt insane, suffocated in the overwhelming feelings you couldn’t bring yourself to return. you liked san, you liked everything about him, but the fervent feelings he had towards you mirrored what you felt for chan. 

there was now nothing left unsaid. there was no unspoken deal between you anymore, no weapon left to use to let yourself get off without consequence. you were uncomfortable, uncomfortable with his feelings, uncomfortable with your own, you felt shoved in a corner you couldn’t walk away from. 

the only things that stayed consistent in that week were chan’s rooftop, chan’s living room, and his incessant need to talk to you every damn time you were there.  

san felt like he was losing his goddamn mind. 

he wished he could go back in time and take back everything he said, his confession, his feelings, he had ruined everything. you would go from not answering him to getting pissed off that he answered your text with ok instead of okay… it seemed like he couldn’t do anything right, in a constant state of fear that today would be the day you break it off with him for real. 

his day to day life was only getting worse. he was making cocktails wrong at work, not replacing ice, handing the wrong beer to patrons at the bar. he got replaced again in his spot for his dance class, reprimanded by his teacher, minho gave him not one but two additional talks about getting his shit together. 

he hadn’t seen you since the night you argued two weeks ago, he hasn’t even been going out for just a glimpse of you, he’s been playing catch up for what felt like weeks. to make matters worse, he was pent up, he’d been so used to a consistent sex life, he needed release. he needed a night to let go of you, all of the whiplash he’d endured for weeks now, he needed a night to just be himself. to forget.

he called wooyoung, his best friend who was always out in the city, always had plans. thankfully he was going to a club that night to celebrate your roommate’s recent internship acceptance. wooyoung assured him that you wouldn’t be there, it would only be a couple of your roommates' close friends. he didn’t ask why you wouldn’t be there, he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, he needed to start forgetting now.

he hopped out of bed and got ready fast, the clock already past eight, and headed over to meet the group before going to the club. they were all familiar faces from the rooftop, despite him only knowing wooyoung super intimately. all of the nights he spent at your apartment your roommate was usually at her boyfriend’s, and if she wasn’t, her and her boyfriend were cooped up in her bedroom.

but here he was, in a club he’s never heard of in the middle of manhattan celebrating her.

“have a drink, sannie, do something,” wooyoung slung his arm around san’s shoulder, bent behind the booth he was sitting at, “don’t just sit there and mope.”

san nodded, not having much to say if it didn’t have to do with you. he sipped his beer mindlessly, listening to everyone talking around him, their conversation had to be more entertaining then the jail he created for himself in his own mind. 

“...i’ve been trying to get them together for years! i’m so happy it’s finally happening!” your roommate says loud, drunkenly, talking to yunho’s girlfriend. 

“years?” yunho’s girlfriend asked, brushing her hair behind her ear, “why the hell did it take so long?”

“when they met they were all just good friends, then i was introduced and started dating jeongin pretty much immediately, i’m the one who noticed how she felt about him. she wouldn’t admit it for ages, until i finally got it out of her, and pretty much immediately after that chan started dating eden, you remember her, right?” san’s ears perked up at that, his stomach dropping immediately. he put the pieces together quicker than ki could run her mouth. the drinks from the pregame clearly made her filter pretty much nonexistent, this is a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be listening to, something he wasn’t supposed to hear. she didn’t notice the extra ear, but her boyfriend did.

“ki,” jeongin interrupted, eyes glancing back and forth between san and his girlfriend, talking over yunho’s girlfriend.

ki ignored him, too deep in her own conversation, “yes! like two weeks ago or something it finally clicked, they’ve been seeing each other since.” 

“who?” san interrupted, panic in his voice. 

he knew who, from the bottom of his heart. a little over two weeks ago was when san started the fight between the two of you, ever since then you’d been off. he hasn’t seen you. he knows damn well who.

ki’s eyes were wide, her jaw agape, and jeongin’s hand went to his forehead. 

“san, i-”

“who are you talking about, ki?” san sat a little straighter, his chin jutting out, “who’s been seeing chan for the past two weeks?”

“i think you already know who, san, i didn’t realize you didn’t know?” ki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her hand holding her drink a little bit tighter. yunho’s girlfriend looked between san and ki, also confused, too nervous to ask any questions. the tension was thick in the air, too heavy for a night of celebration. san could feel the control he had over himself lessening by the second. 

san laughs, a dark chuckle, and something inside of him shifts. he’s done, he’s so fucking done. he feels stupid, it’s always been chan from the start, it’s always going to be chan. he tried telling himself months ago that you would see he was better for you than chan ever could be, but he was clearly so fucking wrong. chan would always be your endgame, it would never be him, no matter what he did for you. no matter how much he tried for you. no matter how much he begged for you.

everything he’s been feeling for the past two weeks, the confusing feelings, the constant begging just to see you, the amount of apologies he’d given to someone who didn’t fucking deserve them. how many times had you texted him when you were next to chan? how many times had you ignored him because you were next to chan?

san doesn’t get angry, san isn’t a fighter. san’s always been a peacekeeper, a problem solver, water to put out the fire. 

he is so fucking over it.

he thought about his grades, how long it’d taken him to bring them back up. his rehearsals, his performances, the center positions that had been taken away from him. how many bottles of beer he’d thrown away at work from constant fuck ups. how many times he’s gotten grilled from more people than he can count on his hands. 

he ignored ki, instead he looked into the crowd, suddenly remembering exactly where he was. he reached forward and grabbed one of the bottles yunho bought and took a long swig from it. he looked out in the crowd again and spotted a pretty little blonde thing almost immediately, and took a moment to reflect.

he remembered his life before you, before chan, before that fucking rooftop. how women fawned over him, flocked to him, how obsessed they were. how he didn’t have to try for anything or anyone. he passed the bottle to wooyoung behind him who was so taken aback he hadn’t said a word. 

“san, we can leave, we can go, it’s okay,” wooyoung said, bent over once more, taking the bottle from san’s hand, “we don’t have to stay here, let’s go.”

“if you’re not going to drink that then give it back,” his reply is so curt it sliced through the air like the knife ki just put through his chest, “we are not leaving.”

wooyoung took a swig of the bottle, a proud smirk growing on his face, “finally, man. let’s be done with it already.”

2:27 am ri: u up? ri: i miss you

[theemporium]

[3.3k] a friendship begins to blossom between you and luke as he begins to feel more settled in new jersey. the jump from college was intense, but he was somewhat glad he had a supportive group around him. and maybe his makeout sessions with you were a great stress relief too. (less smut and more heated makeout)

series masterlist

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cherry🍒: i don’t believe you can cook 

cherry🍒: sounds fake tbh

Luke snorted to himself, his lips twitching upwards as he stared at your message. You had sent it at some point during practice, continuing the conversation the two of you had been having the night before.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

Less than two weeks ago, he was practically dry heaving on the ice at the idea of meeting up with you and now there hadn’t been a day the two of you had gone without talking. 

He didn’t even text his brothers this much when they were apart, and now he was practically glued to his phone whenever he got the chance—something Jack loved to point out. 

Pre-season training was intense, he expected as much when he entered the NHL. Both his brothers had warned him about it, too. He just hadn’t realised how intense it was going to be, or how big the jump between college to professional hockey would be. 

And he didn’t realise how much more he would be eating. 

Jack had found it fucking hilarious. He continuously chirped his little brother for always having a snack in his hand. Whether it was in their apartment, on the road or in the locker room, Jack would be the first to laugh, teasing him about being a ‘growing boy’. The rest of the team were a little more sympathetic, but that didn’t stop them from making some jabs themselves. 

It meant that Luke had to adapt, meaning he had to learn to cook more meals beyond the three staples that had got him through college when he wasn’t relying on any meal plans. And it meant he was getting pretty fucking good at it too, much to his own surprise. 

hockey boy: i cook so well, you’re just jealous

He paused, his shirt still half-hanging around his neck as he saw you typing. 

cherry🍒: prove it then

Luke grinned. 

hockey boy: i’m about to blow your mind with my steak subs 

He felt a rush of anxiety—a good kind, for once—when he saw the bubbles show up on his screen again. He waited, anticipating your response. He had practically forgotten about the fact he was standing in the locker room, half-dressed after practice until he heard someone calling his name. 

“Luke!” 

His head snapped up, turning to find that most of the boys had already left. There were a few stranglers, still packing up their stuff with no real rush. But it was Nico who had called his name.

“Uh, yeah?” 

“You free to talk?” Nico asked, a kind smile on his face like the other boys on the team had always said. It was hard to feel anything but welcomed by the Swiss. “After you’ve changed.” 

“Oh,” Luke glanced down at his phone, seeing a notification that you had replied but quickly shoved his phone down on his bag. “Like, right now? Because I kinda had some plans—”

“It will be quick,” the older man assured him.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat and smiled a little. “Yeah, I’m free.”

Luke moved pretty quickly after that, ignoring his phone as he quickly changed back into the sweatpants and hoodie he had thrown on this morning when Jack had banged on his door at some ungodly, early hour. He shoved most of his things into his bag, trying to act like he felt completely normal and stress-free about a one-on-one conversation with his captain.

He tried to act nonchalant as they made their way to the lounge area where some players crash before or after a practice. Fridges and shelves were stocked with a variety of trainer-approved snacks and protein shakes, it was probably one of Luke’s favourite rooms recently. But now he felt too on edge to even grab one of the lemon muffins he loved. 

“Calm down, you aren’t in trouble,” Nico eventually spoke up, settling down on the couch as he looked at Luke expectantly. “I just wanted to talk.”

Luke cleared his throat, settling down on the couch too. “Yeah, so you’ve said.”

Nico’s lips twitched. “How are you finding Jersey?”

“It’s good,” Luke nodded.

Nico raised his brows. “Just good?”

Luke blinked. “...really good?”

“Hm,” Nico hummed, but he sounded amused. “Usually I have trouble shutting Jack up, you’re like the opposite.” 

Luke laughed a little. “Jack was always the yapper.” 

“He’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nico added, almost far too casually. He briefly wondered if his captain was waiting for an in to whatever the real reason behind this conversation was. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know I’m your captain too, right?” Nico asked, and this time he sounded a lot more serious than he did thirty seconds ago. It was how he sounded on the ice, how he sounded on the bench during playoffs last year. He hadn’t seen much of this side of Nico, but he recognised it well.

Luke frowned. “Is this a trick question?”

“No, I—” Nico paused, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that I see you as one of my boys. Not just Jack’s little brother. When I played with my brother, I know sometimes it feels like you’re just…there. In his shadow, sometimes. I just don’t want you to feel like that here.”

Luke relaxed a little. “I don’t—”

“But you’d tell me if you ever did, yeah? I’m your captain too. I want you to know I’m there if you need me, as a captain or a friend.” Nico had a sincere but serious expression on his face, and a small part of it reminded him of Quinn. That warmth and comfort that came from someone a little older, a little more sure of themselves—a true captain.

“I know,” he promised the older boy with a nod. 

“Good,” Nico said before his face broke out into a smile. “Do you need a lift home? I told Jack he could go and I could drive you back—”

“No!” Luke blurted out before blinking, seeing Nico’s slightly surprised face at his outburst. “I, uh, meant that I didn’t need a lift. I was just going to get an Uber.”

Nico’s brows furrowed together. “There’s no need, I can drive you back. I know where—”

“No, I just,” he paused, feeling his cheeks heat up in response. “I’m heading to a friend’s house. Not going home. So.”

“I see,” Nico murmured, and there was something shining in his eyes that Luke didn’t fully understand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to understand. “I can drive you to your…friend’s house, if you want.”

And let you watch him get dropped off by his captain? Yeah, he would rather not.

“I’m fine with an Uber, but thanks,” Luke said with a slightly strained smile, only hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. He didn’t even know why his whole body felt on edge, he knew he was doing nothing wrong. 

But something about the way Nico was staring made him feel like he could see right through him, through everything. 

He was almost convinced his captain knew exactly where he was going and why, and that was something Luke didn’t want to think about.

…

“Back off!”

“But I’m hungry!”

“There’s gonna be nothing left if you keep eating everything.”

“But it’s taking so long.”

Luke shot you an exasperated look, though he didn’t bother to hide his smile as you slumped against the counter beside him. “It’s only been forty minutes.”

“I was hungry before you got here,” you defended with a huff.

“And you’ve practically eaten all the cheese I was gonna use,” he retorted. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. He tried to ignore how endearing he found the act. 

“C’mon, give me five more minutes and your food will be done,” Luke tried again, and he managed to finally crack a small smile from you.

“This better be worth it, Hughes. This is my first meal of the day.”

“I—” Luke frowned a little. “Yeah, we’ll dive into that later.”

You raised your brows, something like amusement painted across your face. “Worried about me, Hughes?”

“At the fact it’s one o’clock and you haven’t eaten a single thing?” Luke pointed out. “Yeah, actually, I am. And I think that is a justified reason.”

You waved him off. “I had coffee.”

His lips parted. “That’s not—”

“Cook for me, Hughes,” you interrupted, a grin stretched across your face as you playfully slapped his ass. “You said you would prove yourself.” 

Luke’s cheeks flushed. “You’re bossy.”

“And you like it.”

He didn’t disagree.

…

“Stop looking so smug.” 

Luke glanced over at you. “I never said anything.”

“But you have a smug smile on your face.” 

“I don’t.” He definitely did. “But I am waiting for you to admit I was right.” 

“Fine. You’re a good cook or whatever.” 

Luke beamed in response. 

He was never an overly confident or arrogant guy, not even on the ice. He knew when he played well, he knew when he made people eat their doubts that the youngest Hughes brother wasn’t as good as the other two. He was never the kind to go fishing for compliments or praise either.

But there was something admittedly satisfying when he got to see that expression on someone’s face, the one they got when he proved them wrong. 

Whether it was something as big as proving his high school coach that he was good enough to make it into one of the best college’s hockey team, or as small as proving to you he was a damn good cook, and he made a damn good steak sub.

He didn’t like asking for compliments, but it was nice to receive them. To have that reassurance. To know that maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he sometimes felt in his own body.

You raised your brows. “What? No cocky follow up?”

Luke shrugged, leaning back into the plush cushions of your couch. The plates and the rest of the dirty dishes had been shoved in the dishwasher, some random old sitcom was playing on the tv and the two of you were sprawled on your couch with your feet on his lap. Not that he was complaining.

It was sweet. Relaxing. Domestic. 

Almost like you two were just friends hanging out.

“Not really my thing,” Luke admitted. “You said I was right. That’s enough.” 

You tilted your head in interest. “That’s enough?” 

He missed the heat in your words, the shift in tone in your voice. His eyes were aimlessly focused on the tv, trying to work out what was going on after he zoned out for a few moments. He missed the way your eyes dragged over his body, lingering on the way his shirt stretched over his shoulders and clung onto his arms. 

“Yeah,” he nodded absentmindedly. “Jack is the one who would—oh.”

You grinned at the way he fell silent, as he blinked in surprise at the way you planted yourself in his lap. 

“I—” Luke cleared his throat, no further words coming out as you placed your hands on his chest. 

“Just wanted to say thank you,” you told him, your eyes following the way you ran your hands over the expanse of his chest, the way his heart thundered under your touch before your fingers traced along his neck. “For cooking for me.”

“Right,” Luke said, swallowing a little. 

“Can I say thank you, Luke?”

He nodded.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” he rasped, his wide eyes staring up at you. “Please.”

“So polite,” you teased before you leaned down, your fingers fisting the material of his shirt in your hands as you pressed your lips together. 

It took Luke a few seconds before he eased into the kiss, into letting you take control as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip. He sunk further into the couch, his hands hesitating a few moments before they rested comfortably on your waist, just like they always did.

And you waited. 

You waited for them to move as you deepened the kiss, as your tongue explored his mouth. You waited as your hands ran up and down his chest, feeling the way his body shivered under your touch, at the way your nails lightly raked down his stomach. You waited as you felt his hands squeeze your waist, like he was finally giving in.

But his hands remained where they were.

“Luke,” you murmured, a little breathlessly between kisses. “Move.”

He paused, pulling back as he looked up at you with a confused expression. “What? Like, from the couch?” 

You couldn’t help yourself as you snorted. “No, I meant your hands.”

“My hands?” He repeated dumbly.

Your smile softened a little as you reached for his hands, squeezing his wrists tightly. “Your hands are your friends,” you told him, biting back your laugh when you noticed his confusion grow. “There’s more to making out with a girl than kissing her.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat a little. “I knew that.”

“You like it when I touch you, right?” 

He nodded.

“So, do the same,” you told him, squeezing his wrists again. 

Luke blinked, swallowing hard. “I—”

He quickly closed his mouth, his cheeks flushing as a familiar feeling of embarrassment washed over him. He looked a bit hopeless, and it tugged on your heart strings a little to see him so hesitant.

“You can ask me anything, Luke,” you reminded him, your tone soft and void of anything remotely mocking like he almost expected. “I won’t judge.”

His eyes flickered back to your face. “Where…do I touch you?”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “You want me to show you where I liked to be touched, baby?”

He nodded, his face flushing a deeper shade of red.

You never tore your eyes away from his face as you placed your hands over his, trying not to focus on how much bigger they felt than your own. You watched the way his brows furrowed, like he was trying to concentrate as you guided his hands along your waist until they dipped down to cup your ass.

He swallowed. “Is this okay?” 

“So okay,” you told him before you leaned down to kiss him again. His hands remained still on your ass and it made you smile against his lips as you prompted him, as you let his hands experimentally squeeze your ass. “Girls like this.”

“O-Okay,” he breathed out.

“Feels nice when you wanna take a bit more control,” you told him, lightly nipping his bottom lip as he let out a choked noise of surprise. “Control the pace.” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as you began to guide his hands over your body again. 

“Sometimes a girl just wants a little more when you’re making out,” you continued to whisper between kisses, taking his hands to the hem of your shirt. You felt him freeze a little beneath you as you guided him under the material of your shirt and softly squeezed his hands in reassurance. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

“Just wanna make you feel good too,” Luke murmured, a little bashful in his admission as his fingers skimmed over the skin of your stomach.

Something inside you twisted, in a good way. 

“You’re making me feel good, Luke,” you told him, your lips grazing his as you spoke, as you continued to move his hands further up your body. “Just doing exactly what I tell you. Such a good boy, such a fast learner.”

“Shit,” he breathed out as you rested his hands over your tits. He paused for a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze, finding the smile you gave him in response much more rewarding than anything else. 

“That’s it, baby, just gotta be a little more confident,” you murmured before you dipped your head down, finally pressing your lips against his again. 

And yeah, it was a little awkward at first when you dropped your hands from his. You were kissing him, your tongue swiping against his and his hands were just lingering on your tits like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

But then you rolled your hips against his, snapping him out of whatever brain fog he was lost in and he decided to just let himself sink into it. To just let his instincts take over. To trust the fact you would help him if he was doing something wrong.

And, fuck, Luke thought he might have to listen to his instincts more often if these were the results he got.

One of his hands slipped back down to your waist, to keep you on his lap as the other squeezed your tit over the fabric of your bra. You keened under the touch, almost panting against his lips between kisses as you gripped his shoulders. And then his other hand moved lower, moved to cup your ass and squeeze until he was helping you rock against him. 

Your nails dug into his skin, but the pain was dull and desirable. It showed him that you were enjoying this, that you were enjoying the way he pawed at your tits and squeezed your ass. It showed him that maybe he did just need some confidence, to just trust that sometimes he would just instinctively know what to do.

His head dipped a little as your pants became heavier and the kiss was harder to continue. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck, experimentally mouthing along your skin until he found a spot at the base of your neck that made you shiver under his touch. 

He slowly ran his tongue along the spot, smiling a little when your fingers moved to grip his curls and tug a little. His teeth grazed the spot, a small voice in the back of his head wanting nothing more than for him to wrap his lips around the spot and suck until—

RING! RING! RING!

Both of you jumped at the shrill of the phone echoing through the room, both of his hands dropping to your waist to hold you tightly before you fell on your ass. His eyes snapped over to where his phone sat on the coffee table and groaned when he realised who was calling him. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Luke grumbled, eyes narrowed on his phone as he watched Jack’s call ring on until it stopped.

“For someone who was desperate to get you laid, he sure knows how to ruin a moment,” you commented, though your voice was amused and lighthearted. 

“I told him I’d be back later,” Luke huffed out. “I don’t know why—”

He was cut off by his phone buzzing again. And then again. And then again. He sighed deeply as he reached over, not moving you off his lap—and you made no move to slide off either, so he wasn’t complaining. He swiped, unlocking his phone as his brother’s messages came through.

jack attack: yo how did the thing with nico go? 

jack attack: also idc what you said, we are having a birthday party for you and the boys agreed

jack attack: bring your lady friend ;)

Luke groaned a little, rolling his eyes and locking his phone instead of replying. 

“Not a fan of parties?” 

“Not a fan of Jack’s parties—especially ones that are three weeks after my actual birthday,” Luke corrected, his lips twitching downwards as his hands rested casually on your waist. “He tends to be a little…”

“Much?” You supplied. 

“Yeah,” Luke snorted. “He also said he wanted me to invite you.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me there?”

He raised his brows in response. “Do you want to come?”

“I’ll never say no to a party,” you said with a smile that was anything but innocent, leaning down until your lips were brushing his. “Plus, it’s your birthday. I think you deserve a little treat.” 

Luke gulped a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned before kissing him, whilst his whole body flushed at the implications of your words. 

jack attack: i know you read my texts

jack attack: stop fucking and reply, asshole!!

.

[railrestroblog]

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[commander-rahrah]

Firsts

Pairing: Astarion (non-ascended) x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Post ending of BG3, established relationship. GN!Tav/Reader having a bit of self doubt and worrying that Astarion fell for the very first person he met once he realized he was free from Cazador and that they would understand if he someday decides that he wants to go explore or meet new people or fall in love more then once. Astarion’s reacts to this worry.

Note: I haven't posted any BG3 fics yet, but I just couldn't resist writing this little scene that's been bouncing around in my head this past week! I wrote it originally for my Tav named Olympia, a tiefling bard, but I changed it to second perspective for this post.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*

Astarion’s eyes were trained on your fidgety movements. You were picking at the blanket as you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand shifting anxiously back and forth as your brow was crumpled in thought.

Something was eating away at you. He just wasn’t sure what. You two had a seemingly normal day, not starting until well past sunset (your new adopted routine just for him). The both of you had done some research and shopping before returning to the tiny rooms you were calling home for the time being to relax for the remainder of the night.

But now that he thought about it, you had barely touched your meal tonight. And were much quieter than usual, not as optimistic or positive during the research that had once again been futile. Perhaps you were being plagued by nightmares again — images of the horrors the party had faced just a couple months ago were resurfacing.

A flash of anger coursed through him at himself for not noticing sooner. Taking a breath he didn’t really need, he strode over to you and joined you on the edge of the bed — the mattress sinking slightly with his added weight.

“Copper for your thoughts, my sweet?” He asked with a tilt of his head, before tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I— I was thinking…,” You were quiet, and stumbled as you opened your mouth. He’d very rarely seen you like this — you always had a way with your words. You could be more poetic and flowery than even him. “And— and I understand if you do end up feeling this way.”

Confusion spread across all of Astarion’s features, “What in the hells are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him, your eyes big and crinkled with worry, “I was the first person you met when you realized you were free… from him.” The pair of you had silently agreed to never mention that name again. “The first person you’ve been with. If you… if you decide you want to go see the world, experience new things, new people… I would understand.”

His jaw clenched together, “What?”

“I feel selfish keeping you all to myself. When there’s so much of the world you’ve not seen, so many other people you could be with that I—“

His red eyes blinked at you, before his lips turned downward, “You’re being serious.”

“I—“

He cut you off abruptly, waving his hand dramatically and pressing it into his chest, “Do you think that’s what I want? Have I told you that’s what I want?”

You shook your head, lips creasing, “No, I just want you to know that it’s ok if—“

“What, if I want to leave?” He stood up from the bed, looming in front of you as he spoke, “If I want to go galivant around to meet mysterious strangers, have a tryst or some torrid affair? I know that I am capable of making my own decisions. I know that darling, and I chose you. I choose you. And you reciprocated that.”

“I did. I do, I choose you. But I’ve—“

He interrupted you again, “Let me ask you something. Do you love me?”

“Of course. With all my heart.”

His heart still swelled with your answer. It did every time you admitted it to him. To hear it put out into the universe. That a tiny corner of it was indeed intended for him and you.

He pursed his lips before asking, “Have you loved people before me?”

“I—yes.” You admitted, looking down to your fingers that had become a twisted knot on your lap now.

“And did it feel the same? The love you shared for those other people.” He asked quietly, stepping closer and leaning down to undo the knot of your fingers. Instead threading them through his own pale, cold ones. “Did your love for them feel the same way you love me?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, squeezing his hand in confirmation. “No. Not even close.”

“Exactly. You explored and experienced… and it still led you here, to me now. To your version of a first, yes?”

You nodded, the bottoms of your beautiful eyes starting to form with water as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“I don’t need anybody else, or anywhere else.” Astarion sank to his knees in front of you, keeping his hands intertwined with your own. He dipped his head so he was looking up at you, his red eyes soft and tender. “Look… yes, you may have been the first person I stumbled upon after that damn ship. The first person I met once I realized I was free from his grasp. But you are also the first person to treat me with kindness and compassion. Respect. You’ve fought for me, protected me, fed me, been patient with me. You were the first person whose touch doesn’t make me feel ill, the first person who’s brought me to a blissful euphoria. You’ve given me peace. Autonomy. Safety. And love. No one has ever done that for me, not in my whole existence.”

His half dead heart was thundering in his chest. He had already declared himself to you once before, yet his whole body was shaking with emotion right now.

“And how dare you think so little of yourself. You aren’t just some notch in my belt, not a stepping stone in my life. You are everything.” Astarion used his thumb and finger to push your chin up, forcing your eyes to stare up into his. “I love you. No on else. And there will be no one else.”

The tears that were welling in your eyes finally broke free, rolling down your freckled cheeks. “I love you too. Irrevocably so.” Your voice was a raspy whisper.

“Oh my lovely moon, I wish you could see yourself how I see you.” Astarion’s voice was a gentle whisper.

He pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, both of his hands moving to grab the sides of your face. His pale thumbs wiped away the tears. “I surely hope these are somewhat happy tears now?”

You nodded profusely in his hands, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Happy, relieved.”

“Good. Now, no more of this talk alright? There is only room for one person to be filled with self doubt in this relationship and that position is currently filled by me.”

You frowned, “Starry, don’t jest about things like that.”

“Old habit.” His smirk pulled up enough that his fangs poked out. “No more stewing with your anxious thoughts. You’re going to come and join me on the balcony. Come on,” He stood up and held out his pale hand for you before he gently tugged you to the small balcony attached to your rooms.

The pair of you looked up at the inky black sky, glittering with the sprinkling of stars you could still see in Baldur’s Gate. They were blinking and swirling around the glowing, full moon. A sigh of contentment left you both as you stood in comfortable silence and basked in the light.

“What would the stars be without their moon?” He whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gathered you into him.

[realcube]

dilf december

day ten ⭑ kageyama tobio ⭑ caught under the mistletoe!

tw // NSFW MINORS DNI, vaginal, implied anal, heavy degradation, slight impact play & cervix bruising

winter training has been extremely intense for kageyama so far.

he'll come at around six, all sweaty and gross from the gym, and will barely even exchange pleasantries with you before he rushes into the shower. then, after he's cleaned himself up, he'll trudge to the kitchen — hair still damp and dripping with water — and expect you to have prepared him a high-protein, well-rounded meal from scratch for dinner.

meawhile, you need to find a way to tell him that you didn't feel like cooking so you ordered pizza instead.

you'll maybe converse a little with him over the meal, then watch tv or chill out for an hour before he heads to bed. overall, you're not too opposed to this arrangement, as you know he needs to work hard to keep his health and physique intact since his retirement, especially as he doesn't want to look unfit for the swedish adler holiday soiree coming up that is bound to have reports and press present. plus, it's not like you don't get to spend anytime with him at all; you have dinner together, hang out for a while afterwards, and if that isn't enough, he'll invite you get in the shower with him.

but your main gripe is that you're hardly intimate anymore. since he's doing so much excerise, he often complains that he is too sore and tired to have sex, and he'd hate to make you do all the work. which makes you worry that there isn't a spark between the two of you anymore, and maybe you don't have the same allure that you once did.

at first, you tried to reassure yourself that there was a chance he was just approaching the age were his testosterone is beginning to naturally decrease and therefore his libido was going down with it. however, you quickly deemed that to be quite unlikely, considering he is only 37.

regardless, you felt the need to prove to yourself that you were still as attractive as you once were, and that you still had the magnetic spark about you that made kageyama obsess over you and fuck you like a rabbit in heat during the prime of his volleyball career.

so, before he comes back from training one day, you have everything prepared so that when he enters the house, he is met with the sight of the lights in the foyer dimmed, and rose-scented candles lit on the accent tables. additionally, there was a single piece of greenery dangling from the doorway.

once you hear the door shut behind him, you quietly slink into the room, wearing only a silk robe. short enough that it rode up as you walked, even while you took small strides, high enough that he could tell you weren't wearing anything underneath. it also folded low enough to expose ample cleavage, which is where kageyama's eyes naturally zeroed in on.

"what's this?" he said with a flat effect, his strict stare not faltering even as you neared him. watching your tits bounce slightly with every step already had him pitching a tent.

"i've been missing you, tobio.." you whine, gazing up at him seductively as you lace your fingers in with his. "it's like you've forgotten all about me."

"i'd never forget about you.." he mutters. then, clears his throat and motioned upwards, "but what is that?"

"mistletoe." you clarify with a playful smile, "you know what that means, don't you?"

once you get close enough that he loses sight of your tits, he allows himself to get lost in your doe eyes. fixing his hand on your lower back to pull you against him, as you both lock lips for a passionate kiss.

during which, you began to teasingly grind your hips against his erection, and use your free hand to feel up his chest. this drove him crazy, as he realised just how much pent-up sexual tension he has, which was all beginning to bubble and fizz in the pit of his stomach at once.

he groaned lowly into the kiss, his lips vibrating against yours for only a moment before he pulls away and rasps, "let me show you how much i've missed you."

with that, he picks up swiftly, as though you were weightless, with one hand positioned on your waist and the other grabbed your bare ass roughly from under your silk robe. he places you down on the ground, laying on your back at first until he flips you over by your hips, also pushing your ass up in the process.

despite the fact that your whole ass and damp pussy were already on display, he tugs your robe off anyway because he wants to see absolutely everything. he admires your pretty holes presented before him, and his hot urges stir in his stomach, and he licks his lips as he realises how much he has been craving you.

and how much he needs to be buried in your tight cunt.

he starts by licking his thumb and circling your clit, smirking at the stifled moans it elicits from you. next, he ventured towards your pussy, to assess how wet you are.

"soaked already.." he grunts, shallowly thumbing your hole, "needy bitch."

he slaps your ass, causing you to whimper, but he is simply entranced by the way your ass jingles under his harsh touch. he does it again on the other cheek with his spare hand, while the other works on pulling his gym shorts down and pulling his dick free.

already rock hard, it springs out of his shorts and lightly taps your ass, he guides it between your lips, marinating in your juices and teasing your poor, aching pussy for a while. though he doesn't have the self-control to do it for much longer, as he is also desperate to get balls-deep inside you.

so, shortly after, he rams into you, allowing his thick cock to split your tight, untrained pussy right open. a sharp, lustful pain pulses through you, which translates to a prolonged moan being torn from your throat. your walls cling to him, but you're just wet enough that he is able to slip himself all the way in, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix.

kageyama doesn't waste any time before he starts laying into you repeatedly; his big hands on your waist holding you in place as his cocks slams into you, over and over, and an ungodly speed. you could tell there was quite a lot of tension he must be trying to release, as his pace was feverent and rough, and with each harsh thrust, his cock would bruise your cervix even more.

but you loved it. having him treat you like his own little fleshlight, and using your hungry cunt solely for his own pleasure. the way his dick thrashed your insides was so brutal yet so good, it sent waves of pleasure and ecstasy coursing through your body. a feeling that you've missed so dearly.

his teeth were gritted together for the most part, but whenever he'd hit that gummy spot inside you that would cause you to moan extra loud and your walls to clamp down around his throbbing cock, he'd murmur something to the effect of, "slutty hole.. driving me fucking crazy.."

it wasn't long before he came all undone inside you, pulling out just in time to shoot some of his load onto your soaking lisp and clit, the combination of juices beginning to drip onto the hardwood floor beneath.

he takes heavy, laboured breaths, and so do you. he takes off his shirt and uses it to wipe sweat off his forehead before casting it aside, silently admiring your gorgeous, glistening pussy while he tried to catch his breath.

eventually, under the assumption you were done, you attempted to sit up from the doggy-style position he had put you in, however he is quick to fix a hand on your lower back and push you back into place. "what do you think you're doing? i'm not done with you yet."

he states plain, straightening himself up and spreading your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. he runs a damp finger over it and muses, "if you're gonna act like a desperate slut, i may as well use you like one."

[hanafubukki]

Imagining YN’s role in the war.

They might not have knight training nor magic but they have dealt with Overblots, and with that came certain skills and expertise.

Such as learning how to bandage and treat wounds, learning advantage of terrains, hiding when needed, helping with supplies, cooking, and at times even tactical input.

Of course, at first, they wouldn’t be trusted just like Silver and Sebek.

Grim’s voracious appetite and attitude another factor, but everyone helped in their own ways.

You included.

What surprised the fae army, to an extent, even your dream companions was the way you handled General Vanrouge.

His surly attitude was different from the Lilia you knew and loved, but his subtle actions gave way to the fae he will become.

Besides, you knew how to handle stubborn men. You spent enough time at NRC to get some handle on it.

The fae army and co watched as you pulled their surly General to the main campfire.

You two bantering at each other all the while. A few of them choked on their meals as you stuffed a spoon laden with a healing potion into his mouth before taking his arm and slowly unclasping the bands of his armor.

You told Silver to get you the needed supplies, who then scrambled to quickly retrieve them.

The soldiers under General Lilia Vanrouge knew him well, knew he was more than capable of breaking free of your hold and running off if he wished to.

You? A measly human? Had no power to one of the strongest in their land.

And yet.

He didn’t.

In fact, it seemed like a part of him enjoyed it.

No one would tell it to his face for fear of repercussion.

But they knew their General, he could be…oblivious at times, especially when it comes to the matters of the heart.

So they watched this game that played out in front of them, it was rather entertaining.

Some even started a betting pool for when he would realize his feelings, even Sir Baul Zigvolt joined.

You might not have magic nor were you a knight, but you were able to handle their General Vanrouge when only a few could before.

That was enough to earn their respect.

[emmylksblog]

THE WEDDING RING // H. FORT

summary: reader lost her wedding ring and tries to hide it from her husband

contents: angst, comfort

warnings: my first time ever writing so be patient with grammar errors

a/n: idk if this is good but if you want part 2 tell me in the comments and if you like my writing feel free to request, i only write about hector fort and some barcelona players

You were sitting on the couch, looking through a pile of cushions and under the couch cushions, clearly stressed and worried. You quickly put everything back in place as you hear the front door open and your dear husband who you didn´t want to see now walks in, home from training.

"Love, I'm home!"

Trying to act casual you get up and greet him with a kiss on his cheek "Oh, hey! I didn't expect you home so early." You stand up quickly and try to hide the fact that you were just frantically looking for your wedding ring something.

Clearly, something was bothering her for her to be acting this way, he'd never seen her like this before and they had been living together for 2 years, he considered it a long time to know her well enough and to notice so easily her changes in mood.

Hector left his training bag on the couch and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I know you've been worried about something," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "You don't have to say anything yet, I'll wait till you're ready to talk about it."

You turned in his embrace and playfully mock-scrunches your nose at him. "Ugh, you smell terrible!" you exclaimed jokingly. "Did you roll around in mud after training or something?" Hector chuckled and feigned offense. "Hey, I'll have you know, this is the smell of a real man." He joked back. You smiled and pushed him playfully. "Well, this real man needs to go take a shower. I'll start making dinner."

As he left to shower, you went to the kitchen to start preparing the meal. You tried to keep your mind occupied, but the thought of the lost ring kept nagging at you. You knew you had to tell Hector, but you were worried about how he would react.

----------

Your husband walks back into the room, towel around his neck and hair still damp. He sits down at the table and watches as you quickly finish setting everything up.

As you turn around to join him, you immediately notice his damp hair and can't help but nag. "You should really dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold like this." Hector grins, clearly amused by your concern. "But I only like it when you dry it for me," he teases, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

You swat his hand away, giggling at his playful banter. "You're such a baby," you tease, "training must have gone well for you to be this cheeky."

Hector chuckled at your comment, knowing that you knew him too well. "It went pretty good," he said, "We did some endurance drills today and I managed to run a few miles faster than usual. The guys were in awe of my speed, as always." He said jokingly, flexing his muscles in a mocking display of pride.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, trying to bite back a smile. "Always bragging about how fast and strong you are."

They continued eating and the conversation slowly died down to a comfortable silence. Hector was oblivious to her inner turmoil, relishing the peace that came with the meal. She, on the other hand, was eating silently, lost in her own thoughts.

Occasionally, she would glance at her left hand, silently panicking over the missing ring on her finger. She wondered how Hector hadn't noticed yet, but his focus seemed to be on his food.

Hector casually asks her to pass him a napkin, and she does so without thinking, using her left hand since it's closer. As he takes the napkin, he subconsciously takes hold of her hand, his eyes darting to her ring finger. His smile fades as he realizes – her wedding ring is missing.

"Where's your ring?" he asks, his voice calm, yet tinged with confusion.

You quickly withdraw your hand from his, feeling the weight of guilt and nervousness. Trying to come up with an excuse, you mumble something about how you must have forgotten to put it on this morning. However, the excuse is flimsy and Hector immediately sees through it. "You never forget to put it on," he says, his expression serious now. "What's really going on?"

Hector's gaze is unwavering, the silence in the room nearly palpable. As you try to muster up the words to explain, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of the truth and the stress of the day finally catch up to you. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. You can't bring yourself to tell him you lost the ring, even though his gaze demands the truth.

Hector's tough exterior softens instantly as he sees you struggling to speak through your tears. He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you against him.

"Shhh..." he murmured, his voice gentle. "It's okay, I'm not mad, just tell me what happened."

You bury your face into his shoulder, your words coming out in a teary mumble. "I... I was searching for it before you came," you said, "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it. I'm so sorry... I'm such a horrible wife. You shouldn't have married someone like me..."

He holds you tighter, his embrace comforting and protective. "No, no," he whispered, "Don't say that. You're not a bad wife because you lost something, accidents happen."

He pulled back slightly, gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "I married you because I love you, for everything that you are. And a ring doesn´t define our love"

Hector softly kisses your forehead, holding you close against him. You remain like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gradually, your exhaustion catches up to you, and drift off to sleep in the embrace of your husband, your head resting on his chest.

----------

[allfearstofallto]

I like writing Yandere Scaramouche as someone with a lot of rules because I like to think about how he enforced said rules.

Getting you to call him "my lord" instead of any other name you'd referred to him by was his first course of action. Scaramouche was already a man wound tight like a string about to snap, he believed that he only had to tell you once to get something done. Anything after that would result in a punishment of some form.

But Scaramouche has a soft spot in his heart for you. He does want you around after all. So when he comes to you that first day, when your big eyes are looking around your bedroom scared and shaking, but somehow still managing to shoot a glare at him, he smirks. You're like a little dog, you could bite any second, but you'd look so cute while doing it. Therefore, he decides to train you like a dog.

"Outside of this bedroom, you will only refer to me as 'my lord.' Understood?" this was your one and only time being told, and despite the fact that you scoffed and begged to go home instead of listening to what he said, he knew you'd think on his words eventually.

The next day you were free to roam his manor. You were mostly looking for your escape, testing doors and windows to see if maybe there was a way out, but your arrival was planned for many months before, even if he had less time to prepare the house for you, there wouldn't be an escape.

With his arms crossed, he watched as you tried to open the door to the back garden, locked of course. Even if you did manage to get out, eight armed guards were placed all through out the area, with orders of capture not kill in regards to you. You'd be dragged back before you even had a taste of freedom. But he didn't tell you that.

"You didn't eat today," he stated plainly. Your first meal in his home and you didn't even take a single bite of it. Even he, who did not need food to survive, didn't enjoy watching such a lavish dish go to the trash.

"You must think I'm stupid, Scaramouche-" your little huff of rude words was stopped in its track by his fingers hitting your lips. Your attitude was another issue he'd need to work on, but he wanted to fix one problem at a time.

It didn't hurt, the way the back of his hand met your mouth. Didn't even sting a little. It just felt demeaning. Like you were an animal being scolded and not a person. He did this every time you opened your mouth to call him anything, but his preferred title, and when you spewed profanities at him, he tap your lips a bit harder.

With a huff, you finally decided to call him, "My lord" after many disrespectful taps against your lips spanning over many days. Annoyance finally made you to decide to allow him to win this one, much to your dismay and his pleasure. Your reward for doing as you were told was a gift of sweets and confections, a treat you weren't given because of his vocal distate for such things.

You ate them with your arms crossed and your eyebrows knitted, glaring at him as he watched you eat. That little attitude of yours was going to be the next to go.

[thatsdemko]

my valentine - o.piastri

masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: a red lacy Valentine’s Day seems to be just the kind of thing Oscar needs…

warnings: not intended for minors + oral (f receiving) + talks of Valentine’s Day + some errors here or there

a/n: I’m baaaack! while I know this isn’t the part two to the secret Santa that’ll hopefully be here soon I’m having some trouble writing that rn… but please enjoy this!!!

what did men like on Valentine’s Day? was it lace? was it red? or was it just sex? you couldn’t decide the answer. while you stood dumbfounded and dripping in nervous sweat inside the Victoria secret, it left you no choice but to leave and hope scrolling on Amazon wouldn’t lead to the same amount of panic and overwhelm.

you’d wanted to make Valentine’s Day perfect for Oscar. with all of his training and simulator work he’s been doing this winter break, you figured he deserved something special. you perused store upon store for the ideal lingerie for that special Wednesday night, but came up with nothing.

“you’re back from the mall awfully early.” Oscar comments hearing his apartment door shut behind you.

“really? felt like I was there for ages.” you huff out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down on the couch, “if you were wanting something for Valentine’s Day, what would it be?” you ask staring into his big brown eyes.

a laugh escapes his lips. he’s told you infinite amount of times he wanted nothing for the silly hallmark day. he just wanted a nice meal and some quiet time with you. what more could a man ask for? it was a door you never wanted to open, but you knew there was more to it.

“please don’t buy me anything—“

“oh no it’s not like that.” you cut him off, the heat returns to your cheeks when he looks over at you with a knowing look. you sink further into the couch cushions hoping to disappear, but his eyes stay glued to your growing redness.

“well then I guess I’ve always liked the color red on you.”

—

the red lace underneath your pajamas is uncomfortable. you’re unsure how anyone woman could deal with the deep wedge of material up their ass, and the sheer itching against their stomachs, but you figure you can power through. it’s just one night— well that’s unless Oscar decides the 10 dollar red lace bodysuit was to stay permanently.

you hear the lock of your apartment free, and the door swing behind him indicating Oscar and the carry out food had arrived.

“darling, where are you?” he calls out from the kitchen, and taking no time to wait for you. he’s unpacked the styrofoam containers from the bag, opening his box, he takes in a few bites of food that attempted to spill out the container.

reaching for a napkin to clean up his mess, he quickly glances up to see if you’ve made your way in only to stop in his tracks, jaw nearly smack to the floor at the sight of red.

“you look—“ he doesn’t get the chance to begin, there’s not a word he can find to finish the sentence, because whatever it was he was already feeling against his pants.

moving around the counter, he finds himself in front of you where he can see just how much you’re doing to him with so little. a giggle escapes your lips as you pull his face to yours, “did you want to eat first?” you ask.

shaking his head he whispers a no, before placing his hands against your hips, finger tips gently trail the red lace up your body, “I want you first.”

it’s not a long walk to your bedroom, but it feels like ages for him. every second he doesn’t have his hands on you is a waste, and when he finally does get them, it’s not wasted removing the lace from your body revealing every part of you faster than you expected him to do.

he takes the second to fumble with the condom, his fingers shake with anticipation, it’s almost like the first time you’d done it in your relationship. the nerves got to you both, trying to figure out what worked and didn’t, but now, you’d say your pros. knowing the ins and outs of each others bodies, like how he favored your lips around his dick and you liked his fingers inside of you. with time, you learned all of this.

this was a gift on its own, one that had him dripping in precum and aching to get inside you. and when the condom finally was secured, he, once again, didn’t waste a second to find your cunt and fuck you.

his hips grind against yours creating warmth between your bodies. his hair falls across his forehead that you can barely see with the blur of pleasure in your eyes.

he doesn’t say much. he never does, but he doesn’t hesitate to praise you, adore you, and remind you of how lucky he is.

“you’re so good to me,” he’s saying, transitioning from being inside you, his lips travel across your warm skin all the way down to your hips. his fingers gently nudge your thighs open, and you get the hint, “let me do this for you, my valentine.”

you’re unsure if it was the kisses, the words, or his warm tongue against your wet folds, but one of them got the air stuck in your throat. there’s nothing more than you love than the sound of Oscar eating you out. the slurps, the hum— all of it. the sounds were pleasing to your ears, even more so than the action itself you were gripping the sheets.

he’s edging you, playing you. its ridiculous and maybe you deserve it. after all, you’d put the idea of you in red in his head days ago and he’d been unable to concentrate. the patterns of floral dancing across your chest, a low cut neckline, he’d wanted it all— or none of it if you’d decided that. but you deserved this in some way. you’d been the one to send his dick rock hard any hour or second of the day.

“osc,” the moan comes out more like a pity plea. the chuckle against your pussy sent a chill down your spine and a twirl in your stomach. so you deserved that much, you thought, but this? not letting you come? too much.

“I’m gonna come,” the words spill as does the warmth out of you, his face covered in you wasn’t something he could ever be mad about, but not giving him the chance to edge you? you’ll be paying for that later.

“I wasn’t finished.” he slides a finger inside, barely giving you time to rest and recover, “you fucked with my mind all week.” he groans at the very sight of you from a couple minutes ago. he wished he’d taken a picture, saved it for later, but he was too antsy. his pants did the thinking more than his head. and that’s why he’s stuck his finger in your pussy.

he loves the sound of you. moans, groans, whines, whatever it was. he knew you liked the way he rubbed your clit, the way he kept going until he felt the shake of the frame against him, and that’s when he removed his fingers letting you come.

“what a jackass.” you swear closing your legs up and pushing yourself up off the mattress to find your clothes, “didn’t even let me cum on your fingers, like it’s not Valentine’s Day—“

he shuts you up with a soft kiss, “I think we should eat first before another round.” his words hang in the air as he watches the anger sizzle out of you, “and I want you in that red thing again.”

“anything for you, my valentine.”

tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @leclerc13 @smoothopz @imsorare @lpab @lunnnix @frreyaa