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#That last photo never fails to get to me
loving-elvis · 3 months
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My favorite 50s!Elvis photos, part 136 of ∞; This Goofball
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boy in silly sitting positions compilation
#cats#I especially like the last one where he just has one single paw poking out of that box for some reason lol#I still have costumes to post and like a billion other things.... grr... constantly failing at staying active on social media aughh#I think because currently my Main Focus is on trying to get my game done and stuff.. which basically just means sitting and writing all day#so there's not much to post about. Though I know the Good At Social Media thing to do would be to post about the#writing and share progress and talk about the game and characters or whatever to try to build interest or something but that is SOOO weird#to me.. I could maybe get it if it was like a tiny tiny discord groupchat of playtesters with like 5 people in#it.. But something about talking openly about things before they happen is weird to me?? Like presumptuous feeling or something#''oooo guess whats gonna happen LATER!!!'' like.. how do you know.. what if it doesnt. what if you dont finish it. what if its not the way#you think it's going to be. what if something changes. etc. Like I literally avoid movie trailers and game trailers for the same reason ghj#Even if it's not ME doing it it just feels... weird.. Maybe it has to do with my OCD and how I just don't like talking about ''future''#things in Certain Terms. Like if I was going to say ''Oh yeah sure. come over to my house in a few months''. I would have to follow it up#with like ''HOPEFULLY you can come over to my house in a few months'' or 'They'll come over in a few months MOST LIKELY''. Because just#stating that something will happen matter of factly takes for granted like.. what if somehting horrible happens and I DONT have a house#in a few months? or what if something bad happens to me. or to the person coming over? I can't ever DEFINITELY say with 100% certainty#that one could ACTUALLY come to my house in a few months. anything could change. So I have to allot for that in my phrasing. hbjjkn#There are a lot of situations where you're expected to just Assume Things but for some reason that bothers me. My brain literally does not#even Assume the most basic things.. like how do *I* know that just because it's someones birthday that they want to be wished a happy#birthday? what if they dont? everyone is different and has different preferences. I should check with them first. or wait until they public#ly announce that theyre accepting birthday wishes. I have to allot for all 5034859069 rare possibilities at any given time and never take#anything for certain. etc. ghjbjhbh.... ANYWAY.. I have been feeling a bit sick lately as usual.. but still slowly making progress on some#things. Moslty I need to edit costume photos. make sculptures. and work on the game. Going back reading some of the old writing from like#2018 and suprisingly I don't have to change that much of it? In fact I like it mostly. so that's good. I would be very interested if I were#playing the game myself. Though that doesnt mean much since my tastes are so niche lol..#Still really want to clear some of my million tumblr drafts as well... alas and aughh and ooughh and so on and so forth. Between all of my#evil appointments other such things...why cant I have one billion dollar to retire into relaxed hermit artist life of no stressors.. bleas
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heartbeetz · 2 years
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When you're thinking about one of your romantic f/os and accidentally refer to them with a syrupy nickname..........
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gorejo · 6 months
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▸ ▸ the longer you keep it up, the harder you’re getting fucked :p - gojo satoru
synopsis: you make a bet, but your boyfriend is the one that needs to fulfill it. catch is, if he succeeds then you'll get half a grand, but if he can manage till his birthday, then you'll get even more. and before he settles on the bet, Satoru warns you with one promise he knows he will fulfill. because the longer the bet goes on, the harder you'll be getting fucked when he succeeds.
content: 11k words (what in the world). afab!/fem!reader, she/her pronouns. minors do not interact. half of gojo's pov mixed with yours, reader calls him baby girl, explicit smut — fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, squirting, unprotected sex but only because reader allows and satoru asks for permission, pet names (sweets, princess, babe), explicit language. Satoru gets morning wood and an erection during his meeting. Megumi and Tsumiki almost catch him in the kitchen, Satoru imagines reader in a dress, mentions of masturbation, satoru has a private album of photos/videos, soft!dom satoru, he cums multiple times — inside and on readers breasts.
happy birthday to my lover boy!!!! 🎉 (i posted this on his actual bday, but it got booted from the tags.... )
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Satoru felt his vein pop. 
He should’ve known by the way you approached him, called out his name with an unusually cuter ring to his name — the one that left him usually helpless in your palm — to hear it, he’ll sacrifice the world. He should’ve known something was up your sleeves, when you pulled at the bottom of his shirt, playing with the hem as you looked up through your lashes.
Normally, he’ll never reject your advances nor your desires, especially when you were being this cute, but for this? 
Sometimes he needs to put his foot down — because you must be out of your mind.
How cruel of you to even ask him. Were the eight years of not being able to fuck each other not enough for you, that you just dared to ask him? 
“Absolutely not.” his voice was curt, short of the usual chime whenever he responded to you.
“Why? It’ll make it that much more exciting when December comes around, ‘Toru.” you hugged him tighter, looking up at him in hopes that it’ll get him to give in — it always worked. 
He had too, especially when almost half a grand was on the line. 
“It’ll perfectly align you know? since it’ll be your birthday then, as well…” you seduced while riding on your toes to have him look at you. 
“Do you want me to die?” Satoru cupped your face as he looked straight into your eyes, his large palms pushing your cheeks together, “and we’ve tried it, and guess what happened then?” 
“Well no…” your voice muffled through pouted lips, “b-but it’ll be different now! You’re older!” your grip loosened around his shirt, disappointed that he wouldn’t give in.
“If you know, then absolutely not,” he scoffed while letting go of your cheeks, his hands immediately finding your waists, pulling you closer to him, utterly offended you would even dare to pull back from him.
“and no it’s not. I failed then, I’ll fail again now. I’ll probably fail even worse than last time.”
“It’ll be so quick, the month will honestly fly by!” you quickly retorted, leaning your body onto his. 
“So you’re a liar now,” he crooked a brow, looking down at you with his jaws clenched from trying to stand his ground. Knowing he didn’t have the guts to really tell you no, especially when you looked so determined to succeed over something that had no means of any health benefits but potentially drive one insane — the experimental group? him — eight years prior when he tried the challenge.
conclusion: no nut november was unapplicable to one named Gojo Satoru.
Groaning into the crook of your neck, his breath gently ticking your skin, “I wanna be inside you all the time.” your boyfriend tended to always such perverse and ludicrous words with ease.
“D-don’t you think you’ll be so proud of yourself? We can do pilates or meditate together instead —” your voice stuttered from the sudden mesh of his lips on your skin and the gentle breeze of his breath coating your neck. 
Annoyed that you were continuing with this, Satoru lightly nibbled on your skin, smirking when he felt you jolt in his arms, “I’m perfectly content with who I am now, princess. How much more perfect can I get?” he peppered kisses up your jaws and softly kissed the edge of your lips. 
“... we can meditate together, become one soul and mind, through the art of sex. It’s good for you. You know like my cock inside you? How harmonic, how wonderful, how … much more rewarding can that get? Maybe we can finally try some new positions? Like those Kamasutra positions, Suguru sent me. He said that shit works. ”
“But ‘Toru —” you whined, the once animated chirp of your voice dissipated to nothing but disappointment and sadness at your boyfriend’s refusal to comply.
“Why are you pressing this so much?” Satoru furrowed his brows, absolutely confused as to why you would willingly be abstinent for not just one day, nor even a week, but for a goddamn month and a couple of days on top of it? 
“B-because…” you lightly bit onto your lips, hesitant to spill the truth. 
— flashback to a week prior.
“Say… have you and Satoru ever tried… you know… being abstinent for a bit?” she asked while twirling her straw around the rim of her glass cup. 
“Well,” sighing while resting your cheek on the palm of your hand, your body leaning onto the coffee table, “we did try once in college,” humming with a light gleam to your voice, “but he failed within that week.”
“I see…”
“What’s up?” You kindly smiled, questioning her motive of asking, “are you and Suguru okay?”
“Yea, we’re fine! A little too good, I would say,” she laughed, a light glimmer of her eyes sparkling just where the sun radiating above you both, shining down warmth to excite you for the words she was just about to say, “just wanted to fuck with him, a bit you know?”
“How so?” intrigued with her sudden confession, biting your lips in thoughts of maybe – just maybe – you felt the same. 
“November is falling soon, wanted to do the classic no nut challenge,” she shrugged before crossing her arms with her elbows resting on the table, “ wanted to see how far he could last…” rolling her eyes with a sigh, “he’s always so… so full of leisure. always teasing me when I know his nuts are about to bust.”
Giggling in response, “Well, if this makes you feel better, I have to get Satoru off me, or else he’ll cry.” Shaking your head, “you know, for being so similar to one another, they are weirdly so different.”
“Hey… do wanna make a bet?” her eyes gleamed, and her face contorted in excitement as she anticipatingly nibbled her lips.
“A bet?” 
——
“... I made a bet,” you mumbled while playing with your toes, you couldn’t help but wince at the scoff your boyfriend gave you.
“A bet? Like money? Didn’t know you had a gambling addiction.”
“Satoru, I’m being serious.”
“I am too,” clicking his tongue against his teeth while running his hand over this hair, “So you’re telling me you made a bet… and that has to do with Suguru and his girl because…?
“Well… it was to see who would last the longest,” nervously pursing your lips as you watched his vexed expression.
“...Are you serious?” your boyfriend deadpanned.
“Mhm…” you nodded, “very serious.”
“How much?”
“Five…”
“Five dollars, youre joking —” 
“Five hundred for the winner and an extra two hundred if you can last till your birthday…”
“And why is there an extra incentive for me?”
“Because… she didn’t think you’d be able to survive even a week, nor did Suguru when she texted him. Both thought it would be an easy win.”
"that dickhead," deeply sighing with his eyes firmly closed, “did you at least bet that I’ll win?” His fingers wrapped behind your back as he tiredly looked back at you.
“Of course!” you smiled, giggling while snaking your arms around his neck, “I know my boyfriend will win.” 
“you're lucky that you're cute,” Satoru crinkled his nose with a smile, “but, do you genuinely want to do this?”
“Mhm, Imma treat my baby girl out,” reciprocating the crinkle while lightly pinching his cheeks, giving him the softest smile as he slowly loses his resolve. 
“your baby girl, you say?” Satoru raised a brow while running his fingers against the plush of your lips.
“My own and only,” giggling while lightly prancing on your toes. 
Slowly releasing a deep breath before clicking his tongue against his teeth, Satoru accepted your proposal. “Don’t get mad at me when I push you off for being needy,” your boyfriend smirked while pinching your cheeks, “and no more special good morning wake-up calls, even if you beg, I won't give it to —"
Heat immediately radiating to your face, your heart thumping increasingly at the remembrance of Satoru’s cheeky morning relief — in between your thighs, lips kissing your inner skin as he trekked his way to your cunt that looked just so pretty for him.
“I’m the one that always pushes you off, stupid…” you softly murmured, “but yes! I just want us to succeed at least once, and plus… don’t you want to beat Suguru?”
“He’s the least of my worries, princess. Because I’m going to make you regret ever making this bet,” he softly threatened, his smile masked with a hint of depravity in his voice.
“Because the longer I hold on,” giving you a wink as he pushed you towards his room, “the harder you’re getting fucked when I win, angel.”
“W-why are we going to —” your lips were pressed upon his, your voice melting into the dichotomy of urgency but also ease as you drowned in his touch, “ ‘Toru!” moaning his name, chest huffing as you clung onto with your fingers raking his hair as your bodies dropped to the bed, “we s-still have to run errands.”
“Fuck those,” Satoru groaned into your neck, caving his face into the crevice as he pulled down his sweats, the bulge of his cock nodding in his briefs. Kneeling on the edge of his bed, his fingers fastidiously pulled your shorts off, throwing them onto the floor, urgently pulling your cute panties off to the side. Exposing your hardened bud as he placed a tender kiss on your clit, now wet with your juice,
“Your silly bet doesn’t start till tomorrow, so open up, gonna make full use of what’s mine.”
— Day one.
The morning felt oddly nice, a little too nice when the mornings were usually cold and dull. The winter breeze was just right as the leaves swayed by its lead, and Satoru was sleeping soundly following the rhythm of the wind gently blowing outside, with his limbs intertwined with his lover. Without a worry, as he slept with his breath steady, and chest rising and falling in a calm motion, from outside looking in, the view would've simply been a couple soundly sleeping during the early mornings. 
But underneath the sheets as both slept peacefully was his cock rudely poking at your inner thigh, his length pressing deeper in as he shifted in his slumber, lips murmuring what he was dreaming. 
Usually, it would be routine. Satoru would wake up first, reach over to bring you close as he wrapped his arms around your body, and then he’d take some time to admire you while you peacefully slept in his arms. Ten minutes thereafter, is when the suffocating discomfort of his dick became too unbearable, and the throbbing of his cock would prod him to anticipatingly lick his lips while making his way down the sheets. With his lips pecking small kisses down your body while his hands gently massage your curves, he’ll quickly station himself in between your legs, softly pushing your cotton panties to the side with his index finger. 
Hearing you shuffle and innocently moan out in your sleep, he’ll tenderly comfort you with a slight gruff to his morning voice, “shh baby, just sleep… it’ll feel good.” With his vacant finger spreading out your folds, the sticky sounds of your cunt slowly became more viscous the more he played with your pretty clit, the bud hardening with each stroke of his finger in and out of your pulsing hole.
His goal wasn’t to wake you, but for him to taste you just enough so that you’ll wake up in bliss, totally unaware of your boyfriend’s servicing actions. And just before he’ll dive more aggressively to taste your cunt, Satoru always placed a sweet kiss at the base of your pussy before caging your thighs around his arms, softly blowing on your exposed womanhood as he felt you stir in sleep. His voice was soothing as he eagerly licked his lips with a smirk, he cooed, “no need for preworkout if I can eat this every morning.”
But today, despite the morning feeling too nice, Satoru woke up frustrated to the core. He did his usual cuddling session with you in his arms — guess that made him feel better seeing you twitch your nose and softly snore. Cute he thought, would be nice if he could eat — 
Instead of anticipation, his cock painfully ached and his mood turned sour the moment he felt the usual nodding of his dick to have some action. 
Usually, he was excited to start the day. Not because he was enthusiastic to go to work, slave his life away to his family corporation, attend those god-awful meetings, and sign the mountains of files that his secretary ordered to finish. 
No, he woke up solely with the intent of eating you out — end of story, final discussion. If sleeping was the only avenue for him to enjoy having a taste of your morning cunt, he’ll go through mountains and sign those papers if he had to — hell, he’ll even stay overtime if he was guaranteed.
But, he couldn’t. At least for a month, he wouldn’t be able to. 
Sex the day before was good — too good. With a balance of carnal urgency as he bullied your abused cunt with his aching length, meshing with some time to wind down in pillow talk or while he sovereigns every ounce of your body with his lips, only to repeat the cycle of fucking like rabbits with the sheets damp and body sore from prolonged sexual intercourse. sex was still so fucking good. 
But today? Yea...
“Fuckkk,” Satoru groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillow with his arm thrown over his eyes, his hips mindlessly moving upward in a pensive desire to fuck you. 
“ ‘Toru?” your voice softly croaked, totally unaware of the frustration your little bet caused him, “you okay?”
“Mhm,” he immediately swallowed you with his arms, his lips pressing delicate kisses on your naked shoulders but keeping a mental note to not have his dick too close to your ass — that was dangerous territory.
“Are you leaving soon? Stay a little longer, I’m cold,” your voice was slurred, while your consciousness slowly slipped into another stage of sleep.
“I can’t sweets,” Satoru grumbled, his hands mounding your innocent breasts, “not when I’m like this,” his breath tickled the edge of your lobes, just fanning against your jaw while the control of his hips was no longer in his jurisdiction but of a mind of their own as he dry fucked your ass, “fuck baby… Are you sure you wanna do this? 
“You p-promised, ‘Toru…” you responded with your back snuggled close to his bare chest, the heat of his body making you feel safe despite the raging thoughts that were blaring in your boyfriend’s mind. 
Getting out of bed was hard, but getting himself to work out despite his cock stubbornly staying tortuously erect was even harder. The moment he pulled himself out of the sheets, he knew today’s workout wouldn’t be of his fancy as he drank his preworkout making his way down to his basement gym. 
And yes, sure as hell, today’s morning workout was a bust. 
— Day two. 
“They say starting is always the hardest, ‘Toru,” your voice, innocent yet ignorant of the turmoil he was going through, was soothing as you brushed your fingers through his hair, his face plastered on your breasts as he contemplated the existence of his life, “why don’t you join me for some pilates? A lot of couples come together!” 
No, it’s not. And whoever came up with such a quote was a complete fuck, because Satoru could rebuttal it to his grave.
First, starting wasn't always the hardest. Getting over your nerves, or mustering up the courage to start wasn't difficult. Maybe it’ll apply to life circumstances like applying for that dream job or starting out a new hobby. But for Satoru, once you’re hooked, absolutely addicted to something, that’s when it’s the hardest. 
Because like a dog conditioned to expect food after a stimulus, the same applies to sex. If he sees you blatantly walking around in those shorts that he just loved to watch you prance around the house in, he'll easily break. Where your cheeks just lightly land outside the rim of the fabric – it was adorable when you reached up the cupboard, exposing a hint of your belly and your ass jiggling when you jumped on your tippy toes. Like a starved animal, his cock would answer with its length pooled with blood, his stomach knotting in flames while his azul eyes dilated at the sight of you.
It was so easy — you made it so easy. Pushing you onto the countertop, getting you when least expected as he smashed his lips with yours while muffling your little yelp — your call of surprise but his invitation for more — was so, so easy. It was exciting, thrilling, utterly fulfilling his primal desires to just swallow you entirely as you clung onto him while crying out his name, your nails scratching against his back while his cock pistoled itself into you, nestling deep inside as he pumped out his seeds, shooting straight to your womb. 
It was glorious, so divine when he felt his cum leak outside you. The warm clumps of his ejaculation thudded against the kitchen floor while he huffed out deep breaths with his head resting on your shoulder. It sent shivers down his back when you embraced him in his arms. And when he was lucky, you’ll look at him with desperate eyes, pulling more out from him as you whisper in his ears, a voice that almost strips all air from his burning lungs as you palm his length and swirl your thumb over his leaking head,
“I think you’ve got a little more in you, right ‘Toru?” 
But instead, currently, with his head leaning against the shower wall, Satoru stood under the cold shower trying to cool off his cock. It’s almost laughable how his dick nods up and down as if it mocked his misery.
“You think it’s funny bastard,” Satoru groaned, voice spiteful that even his own body seemed to have betrayed him. 
— Day three.
Kissing shouldn’t hurt. Right?
He was at least allowed to do that, right?
Maybe not when the kids were around. But an innocent kiss to show just how much he loved you, should be good, right?
Or so, that’s what Satoru’s sex-deprived head concluded when he saw you cleaning the dishes, softly humming an unrecognizable tune.
“I was going to do this, baby…” he lowly groaned into your skin while his hands snaked up your shirt, fingers immediately going to unclasp your bra while his lips trailed up your neck, his hand placed around it for eventual better access to your lips. 
Oh how he wished to press you down onto the counter, push your cute little skirt up your waists while he measured the length of his cock to see how far he could fit himself inside you before ramming himself in — how admirable would it be to hear the synchronized moans coming out from you both simultaneously.  
But he couldn’t. Even if he didn’t agree to this stupid bet, he wouldn’t — no, you wouldn’t allow it, not even dare let him touch you when the kids were around.
Huh? But to his surprise, he could feel you reciprocating back by pushing your ass onto his cock. Soaking in every touch and affection he gave you; just maybe he wasn’t the only one craving, barely surviving through this absurd bet, despite only being the third day.
It was three days too long.
Treating him out? Fuck, that was his job, not yours — well, occasionally he did allow you to buy him some ice cream, but even in that, too, he would rather buy it for you. 
“You know we don’t have to continue —” he tempted, softly whispering into your ear, his bulge pressing against the valley of your ass — erection hard enough for you to feel over your clothes.
“But the bet,” you whimpered when his slender finger pinched your nipples, “it’s o-only been a full two days though,” your voice radiated barely of a whisper.
“Shhh, let's fuck the bet,” Satoru’s hand inched its way down your tummy, gliding to satisfy the aroused coil blooming in between your legs, “this is all so silly, princess. We can be fucking like normal? Enjoying each other, come on, let me make you feel good, yea?” your boyfriend’s voice was laced with an amorous note.
“M-maybe we could just call it qu —” 
“What are you doing?” Megumi blankly asked, holding his finished plate of food while standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at you both with unimpressed eyes, “are you trying to eat her or suffocate her?"
“Ooo Gojo-kun’s in loveeeeee,” Tsumiki chirped, “that’s what Papa does when he’s with his girlfriend!”
“Fuck, we’re never having kids.”
— Day 12.
“So, you still on that bet?” swirling the fizzling drink, Satoru asked before taking a sip of his sugary mocktail — a drink he confidently orders despite the odd stares he gets from the bartender. 
“The bet about not fucking?” Suguru sounded nonchalant about it. It was exactly twelve days since starting and why the hell does he look so smug about it? Fucking bastard… always so full of leisure when he was crawling, begging for scraps to simply survive.
“Yea, I guess,” the raven hair smirked, his tone taunting as he questioned Satoru, “surprised you’re even taking it this far, thought you would fail after the first hour with your horny ass.”
“What’s up with you and your girl both thinking that fucking is all I think about,” Satoru rolled his eyes, pursing his lips offended.
Suguru simply just stared back, the look of his eyes alone sending Satoru a million words as to why he knows fucking is all he thinks about. 
“Rude, it’s not always…”
Shrugging, Suguru brushed it off, “Sure, whatever you say.” 
“Okay… maybe like 90 percent of the time, no — 80 percent.”
“what an addict, I feel sorry for your girl, gotta tell her to run away when she can,” Suguru teased, pulling out his phone to text you, “like, how do you even concentrate at work?”
“It’s called multi-tasking, a trait only the elite have. clearly, its something you wouldn't know about."
“You know what Satoru?”
“What?”
“it still shocks me how so many entrust their careers with you, slaving their lives away to corporate for an elitely dumbass of a boss,” looking at his bestfriend with the kindest smile while tapping his shoulder, “don’t you think?”
There was no fucking way, he was going to lose to this prick of a best friend. 
— Day 14.
Satoru wondered how he ever survived without you. Call it sentimental, call it deprivation, but one thing for sure was that he wanted you — and it very badly. 
Shaking his leg, annoyingly biting onto the edge of his pen, it frustrated him that there was nothing else that could fathom to take space in his brain besides you. He exercised a hell lot more than his usual regimen and cut off on caffeine so that he could try and knock out when he got off from work.
He even tried doing those meditative breathing techniques that he searched for on the web. Said it was to calm your mind and soul. But god fucking dammit, being in silence made him even more hyperaware of his circumstance.
He can tell you are struggling, as well. He’s felt your touch linger on his body longer, trailing down to areas that you shouldn’t be trying to touch as your voice entranced him out of his free will. 
As much as he wanted to throw in the white flag, and dump this shitty little bet over, he was two weeks in. Despite the last two weeks being an absolute shit show, it gave him an incentive to keep going. Why? Because one, you wanted it; second, because he could prove Suguru wrong that sex is, in fact, not the only thing he thinks about.
Gojo-san, hopefully everyth…
But my god, was waking up in the morning a struggle. It’s almost as if he’s forgotten the taste of your cum coating his lips, droplets dripping down his chin on days when he ate you out a little too hard. The pure ecstasy of being in your arms while your pussy fucked him dry.
The painful yet glorious tug of his hair when you screamed out, “‘Toru right there! D-don’t stop! Ngh fuck harder! Go harder!”
Reciprocating your needs, he’ll burrow his face into the crook of your neck, the weight of his body pressing your thighs down to your chest as he caved his member fully into you, the weight of his balls slamming against your puffy folds while your nails painted red along his back, “f-fucking shit… c-can I, princess? can I cum inside?”
Gojo-san? 
Despite the years, Satoru always asked for permission. He would rather live dickless than know he spilled his seeds without consent. 
Your hot breath stingy his ears covered in sweat, you mewled out, “Yes! Yes! ‘Toru hurry —” 
Gojo-san… are you okay? 
“What?” quickly waking from his daydream, his pen still in his mouth as a table of his subordinates worriedly looked at him with eyes all rounded from shock. 
The infamous Gojo Satoru, the heir to Japan’s richest conglomerate, who has a keen eye for detail and business strategies looked like a deer in headlights in front of his staff. 
“They’re waiting for your executive decision, sir,” Ijichi whispered, covering his mouth with a file, “you seem awfully pale, sir. Is everything alright?”
“I’m sorry,” Gojo cleared his throat, closing the folder as he prepared himself to make his way out, “ l-let me just read through the presentation once more, and I’ll relay my decision later. Good work everyone.” 
Satoru was never one to get annoyed easily. Frustrated? Yes. Even the clicking of his dress shoes tapping against the graphite floor, a sound that he’d never noticed during his career at this office, irked the hell out of him. Hell, even the obnoxious chime of the elevator ticked him off. 
“S-should I clear out your schedule, Gojo-san?” Ijichi broke the ice while he followed behind his boss.
“No need,” Satoru’s answer was curt.
“B-but sir, you don’t seem to look —”
Raising his voice, “Don’t make me repeat myself, Ijichi —” only to catch himself with a deep sigh as he brushed his styled hair back, large palms gripping the edge of his table as he leaned forward, “sorry… didn’t mean to sound harsh, guess i’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“My apologies sir, I’ll organize your schedule accordingly.” Ijichi stated before taking a bow and making his leave. 
“That’ll be nice, thanks.”
Sitting down on his chair, throwing his head back while closing his eyes, Satoru frustratingly moaned out with his thighs spread out, “I must be going crazy, I’m not some horndog teenager…”
But inside his pants was a bulge, a boner that hadn’t gone down ever since the start of his meeting.  
— Day 17
“Fuck,” a lowly growl resonated throughout the room — desperate and sinful — the depth of his chest expanding with each staggered breath that he took. Clenching onto his bed sheets and shoving the wad of saliva down his throat, it burned from the tension of lubricating his dry throat. 
Licking his lips, and furrowing his brows, Satoru pulled down his sweats, freeing his restrained manhood. When the tip of his head smacked against his lower abdomen, the pain of the cold air encapsulated his poor cock that lay barren on its own, Satoru’s hiss littered his skin with goosebumps when his groans soon turned into desperate whimpers while he vulnerably lay in bed with an erection. 
Before all this, it was easy for him to release. Simply envisioning you while he fucked you senseless, or looked through his private album of photos and videos he’s taken of you. It wasn’t a common occurrence for him to fuck his fist, but hey, when push comes to shove, Satoru wasn’t one to deny masturbating — especially, if he could cum to you in mind. 
Normally, he’ll rest his back against the backboard, topless and with gray sweats — that you'll argue was your favorite because it accentuates his cock and makes him look sexy. If his girl likes it, why not flaunt what he has?
Getting himself in the mood didn’t require much. When he felt his cock pooling with blood, constrained in the restraints of his brief, Satoru would pull down his sweat with a grunt while his member sprung forth. 
Sweetly palming his length, and applying just the right pressure, he’ll start by going through past photos and eventually ending up with videos. Zooming into your sweet lips, hearing your whimpers while he fucked you from behind, watching you play with his fingers on a date, to seeing your breasts giggle with every force of his cock slamming inside you — he loved it all.
Stroking his cock, while bucking his hips forward, desperately moaning while he envisioned just how adorable you would look trying to palm his member. A grip so easy for him to hold with one hand, while you struggled even with two. How soft your tongue would feel around the edge of his leaking head, while your hands carefully fondled his balls, lightly pulling on the sac as you fisted his length, looking up at him through the whisps of your lashes. 
It drove him senseless when you would call his name with a little purr, pulling him closer to you as you spread out your legs to invite him in. It drove him mad when he’ll feverishly press his lips on yours, stifling your cries as he pounded into you. The only sounds resonating from the room were erotic slaps of sweaty skin and your muffled cries.
It didn’t take long for him to cum. give and take fifteen to twenty, but it was nonetheless a euphoric expression because every session made him pulse and huff, desperately desiring more. 
If you had asked to abstain from sex, maybe that would've been easier to manage. At least he could relieve himself solo. 
But, completely stripping himself of the option to simply cum was cruelty on its own.
And no different from a prepubescent boy, Satoru lay in his bed with his cock raging with his tip a fiery red. 
But unlike a teenager, that would get boners out of simply nothing, Satoru couldn’t relieve himself of it.
— Day 19.
Surprisingly, Satoru woke up feeling refreshed. He swore he slept agitated and exhausted especially since this past week you’ve told him, “no more sleeping in one bed together, Satoru.”
But this morning, he felt rejuvenated and light. Maybe not nutting did actually work —
… Did he? No, fucking way. 
Quickly shredding off the sheets, his eyes barely adjusting to the brightness of the room, Satoru checked his groin and examined his hands for any signs that he might've masturbated in his sleep. 
Nothing — spotless. Miraculously, he didn’t even wake up with morning wood. 
With another thought springing to his head, Satoru fastidiously reached for his phone — face id unable to recognize his morning face with the white bird’s nest of hair he had on his head.
Google search history: 
Can my dick break from not cumming?
What are the symptoms of a broken dick?
Reading that there was no correlation between not nutting and its health benefits, and receiving the assurance that one’s dick cannot simply “break” from not cumming, Satoru felt reassured that he, in fact, did not have a broken dick and that maybe he was finally getting the hang of it. 
Surely, there’s always a light at the end of every tunnel.
And maybe he’s finally found his. 
— Day 19 - 11:34 pm
Nope.
Wrong. So so wrong. Most utterly wrong.
Satoru was in fact very wrong of the presumption he had in the morning. Because he was not getting the hang of it. Especially not when his cock was bulging in his sweats, while he was frustratingly lying wide awake during the crack of dawn.
If he could just touch his dick, stroke its length with the perfect pressure, he knew he’ll fold. 
Only if he could. 
It was arguable that he could. 
But the look of disappointment you’ll give him, with the cute pout to your lips when he tells you he’s failed, he would rather die than come to you as a lousy prick that just wanted his dick sucked. 
So, sighing while trudging off his bed, guess it was time for another cold shower — fourth one of the week.
— Day 24.
“Sir, it seems to me that’s you’ve lost some weight.” 
“I’ve been hitting the gym more lately,” Satoru chuckled, the veins of his forearms angrily bulging, clearly visible on his pale skin. 
“There’s been talks…” Ijichi stumbled on his words, unsure how to bring it about to Satoru.
“Talks about?” Satoru questioned, barely taking the time to look at his secretary as he was focused on signing his documents.
“That maybe you’ve broken up with…" Ijichi couldn't even dare say your name in the same sentence, " or —” 
“Yea?” Satoru put his file down, a smirk growing on his face as he twirled his pen around his slender fingers — guess those flirty good mornings and looks from his staff made sense.
“I’m no expert…” clearing his throat, hoping he wouldn’t offend his boss, “but I’m here to listen if you have any trouble with your relationship.”
“I’m glad I’ve got such a trusted advisor,” the man pushed back on his seat, resting his arms on the sides of his chair, “but don’t mind me, just haven’t been able to let off some steam, that’s all.” 
“Okay…”
“And breaking up? Ijichi you’ve been there when she broke up with me.” The man hummed, reminiscent of the days when he was heartbroken and lifeless, “We’re fine… just trying out something new, I guess.”
— Day 29.
It’s been a little over two weeks of sleeping separately. Dates have been cut to sole dinners, and going over to each other’s places was prohibited — at least til the bet, as per his lovely girlfriend. 
And weekends were the hardest for Satoru. 
Typically before this all occurred, weekends were his golden days. He was able to do whatever he wanted when he wanted it with you. Whether it be going on a shopping spree, or taking you out of the country for a short getaway, you were always involved — his common denominator. 
Surely, he was able to still enjoy those with you, but it was rather difficult for him to keep his hands off you. 
He still doesn’t quite understand why committed to this stupid bet in the first place. It wasn’t something he placed for himself, but guess… guess he just wanted to prove to not only you but also himself that sex, carnal lust, wasn’t the only thing that kept him in this relationship. That even though he’s been waking up with blue balls, and his mind driving him insane, you were worth more than that — not that you would ever get disappointed with him for failing, in the first place, but still. 
If he’s made it till now, he can survive till the end. 
But times like these... damn it was fucking hard.
“You want to come in?” you softly asked, playing with his fingers that were rested on your thighs throughout the drive home. 
“You tempting me?” Satoru glanced over at you, cheekily smiling as he pulled towards you to place a tender kiss on your lips.
His lips felt mildly chapped, unusual when normally they were soft and slightly glossy. The warmth of his mouth and the gentle strokes of his thumb rubbing against your jaw eased you into the kiss as he pulled you over to the driver’s side to saddle his lap.
But that was the extent to where his hands would be: cupping your face.
With his car parked on the streets of your apartment complex, and his windows tinted, it wasn’t an unusual rendezvous for him to shamelessly fuck you in it. And that’s what you presumed this make-out session would slowly turn into. 
Because fuck it. You’ve missed him. 
Missed the way he touched you.
Missed the way he held you in his arms.
Missed the way he just knew the parts of your body that made you squirm, right before pinning you in place with his strength. 
Missed the teases and affirmations he gave when he prepped you.
And my fucking god did you miss the way he rammed his cock into you, pistoling his cock inside as he held you down with his weight. Having him cum inside you? That was a bonus. 
“Satoru… let’s go inside,” you moaned out in the split second your lips disconnected, only for him to crash his mouth onto yours once more with a deep groan. 
Before he wouldn’t hesitate to strip you off your clothes, many times even ripping out the buttons when he was in the rush. He’ll smirk while not meaning his apologizing, “sorry, but i’ll buy you it, focus on me right now.”
It felt unusual to only be making out. You’ve craved him, utterly wanted to devour him. Wanted something more than just his tongue inside your mouth and stagnant touches of his fingers on your face. it felt suffocating to be unable to touch his bare body that was rudely still covered with his clothes. 
So without much thought, the burning knot burrowing inside, flaring in the pits of your stomach, had a mind of its own. your hands slowly made their way down his torso, gliding past his stomach. you've noticed he was much more muscularly defined than the last time you touched him. 
“H-have you’ve been working out mor — ahhh,” his hands pushed your face slightly to the side so that his tongue could easily access your neck. The padding of his tongue sliding along the valley of your neckline, and his hot breath sticking to your skin.
“Mhm, can you tell?” he whispered in between kisses, mindlessly running his lips to wherever they landed.
“Yeah, I can feel it through your shirt,” your fingers wrap around his belt, slowly unbuckling the leather, “and your chest feels more squishy,” your slight giggle was no more than a moaning mess when he immediately bucked his hips to cause friction against your throbbing cunt. 
“Gotta look hot for my baby,” Satoru breathed, “especially when it’s been so long since we’ve fuck… shit, you don’t know how much I want you right now.”
You finally got your hands to free his belt, unbuttoning his pants while unzipping his fly down, “how bad?” you taunted, your lips sneaky up to his soft spot — just under his ear. 
Your needy breaths and the sensual overload always set him off. And you were determined to let him succumb to it.
“So so fucking bad,” gulping down his spit, the viscous wad burning his dry throat, “it’s all I think about, oh fuck —” throwing his head back onto the headrest, allowing you to suck at his skin as his hands now firmly held onto your waist.
And just when you were about to feel his pulsating cock, salivating at how warm and sensitive it would be when you could finally get your hands on his member. To swirl your tongue down just under his frenulum while you lathered his length with your spit. Maybe they’ll be time to suck at his ball while you pumped his meaty cock, and run your tongue along the lines of his pretty veins.  
“W-wait baby,” his hands placed on your wrists. With his chest heaving, and hair frazzled, he looked at you with worry.
“Yes?” irritated that he would stop you — never had he stopped you.
“I don’t want you to make any decision that’ll you’ll regret tomorrow,” he confessed, softly looking into your eyes, while a small smile formed at his pretty lips, “I-i can take care of this at home,” slightly looking down at your hands just about to touch his groin, “and we have so much time to do it later,” he reassured while pulling your hands out of his pants, bringing them to your lips to kiss.
“B-but Satoru, I want —”
“I know princess, I know,” his voice mildly trembled, “you don’t know how bad I want you, it’s honestly torturous,” Satoru let out a forced chuckle. 
“Let’s just break the bet then,” you pouted, sinking into his embrace with your arms wrapped around his neck, pressing yourself deeper into his body.
“Hey,” he gently tapped your bum, teasingly playing with your mounds when he heard you whine, “didn't I say…”
“What?” you annoyingly spat out.
“that when I win this bet,” his hands pulled you away, leaving you at eye level with him as he rubbed his thumb against the heat of your cheeks, “fucking is all we’ll do,” he reminded with a slight chuckle. It was undeniable that your boyfriend did not mean what he said as a simple joke. The tone of his voice could sound comical, but the underlying incentive of his statement was nothing but that. 
It was admirable to see your boyfriend set his boundaries, doing his absolute best to honor the bet despite his pupils being dilated and cheeks rosy. The gruff in his voice when he called out your name and while he took his time to dress you up, were telltale signs that he too was at his wits. His wonton look of desperation was plastered over his face, even the slight tremor of his hands as he cupped your cheeks, one last time, to place a kiss on your forehead before leading you up to your apartment door, was nothing short of love. 
— Day 35.
Satoru woke up, took a shower, and had a cup of his pre-workout before heading down to his gym. He felt light on his feet, absolutely flying through his sets. the pebbles of sweat on his forehead felt worthwhile, and the strain of his muscles made him feel alive. 
He's been feeling good. his body was shaped just right — not too big but finely cut and carved to perfection. He's been putting more effort into his grind, and been more involved and fastidious at work with precision and strategy. while still being your dutiful boyfriend who sent thirst photos, of himself post workout, with a good morning text. 
He goes to work sharply dressed, with his shoes freshly oiled. The slight spark of his watch, peeping out of his cuffs, was the definition of the wealth he assessed. With his thin waists but defined chest, it wasn’t hard for people to know just what he had packed under his clothes. 
Satoru signed off on all his charts, attending every repetitive meeting, and joined in on important business deals with partnering companies. He made Ijichi’s life easier by working more thoroughly and leaving promptly.
The last couple of days of this newfound routine will soon come to an end. And the old will come again. Hopefully, he’ll be the victor between Suguru and him. Finally, a time when he could rub it in his best friend’s ego, that he was, in fact, the better of the duo. 
Sitting alone in his office, signing off his last document before calling it a day, Satoru felt a sense of pride and satisfaction. In only two days, he’ll be able to touch you again, make love, and comfortably be himself with limbs wrapped together under the sheets.
Soon, he’ll be able to enjoy the goodness of love — sex, being the much-added benefit. 
As he closed his final folder, leaning back on his chair, reminiscing about the past couple of weeks, it was no lie, the struggle of trying to keep his dick in his pants was no easy feat. Every morning was a mental battlefield of its own. But he’s grown to succumb to his desires and utilize that frustration in other aspects of his life — career, working out, meditating, daydreaming of his future with you and what he hopes to accomplish.
Sure, not being able to nut was tortuous – painful as his cock throbbed in his briefs every morning and with every thought of you. Not being able to even properly kiss you without being tempted to just have you face down on his whatever surface was near and fuck you good was even worse. Nothing has changed in how his dick reacted on its own, his thoughts still lingered in memories of how you would react when he would touch you at your sweet spots, how your body trembled when he inserted himself in, the warmth of your tight walls enveloping his cock. How good you tasted when you came in his mouth, body tense as he massaged your limbs. 
But he’s been good, though he wanted to throw this useless bet out the gutter and selfishly act on his own will, you were proud of him — told him every day when he dropped you off. And that to him was enough. 
Closing out his office, and walking to his car. Talking the elevator down while the clacks of his shoes echoed in the empty parking stall, where only his and a couple of other cars were present, Satoru couldn’t wait to get home.
To take a warm bath, and decompress while joining you on a Facetime call. These days, those sweet moments are what he looked forward to.
He felt the light vibration of his phone and immediately smiled when he saw the sender.
From: pumpkin <3
Babe have you by chance seen my favorite panties?  I think I’ve lost them or left them at your place ):
To: pumpkin <3
I wish I had them But we haven’t fucked at my place in a while …  … you sneaking behind my back? 😭
From: pumpkin <3
Awww I see! Those were my favorites  You’re ridiculous -_- It’s probably under your carseat or something.
To: pumpkin <3
I’ll get you the same pair (: Let me know when you get home, i’ll be home soon
From: pumpkin <3
Okie dokie sexy
Chuckling as he rolled his eyes, he mindlessly placed his phone on the dashboard and started his car. The rumble of his engine loudly echoed in the dark basement, and the lights of his dash could almost blind a person. He shifted his car to drive, and while he stepped on the gas pedal, his phone slid off the dash and fell onto the carpeted floor. 
Grunting as he reached over to grab his phone, he felt a soft fabric brush against the tip of his finger. That was odd. Satoru liked to keep his car clean. So he grabbed the dainty item and hung it on his finger as he registered what it was. 
Truly, god liked to fuck with him. Because on his finger was your missing laced panty. A memory of your last car sex with him before you slammed him with the “let’s not fuck, and you can’t cum till blah blah blah.”
“Fuck…” Satoru hissed, letting out a gluttonous rasp as he spread out his thighs in his seat.
And beneath his slacks was his bulge painfully starting to outline, the size of his cock so obvious despite the dim lighting of his car.
Clenching onto your underwear, he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t help but unzip his pants and firmly hold his hardened cock, as he unfolded the memory of when he fucked you in his car.
Ten minutes later.
To: pumpkin <3
Ah babe, I think I’m going to get home later than expected. Heavy traffic 
traffic was fine. Satoru just has yet to leave the parking lot.
— A couple hours before D-day.
Dinner reservations were set for 7:30 pm, which meant he needed to be at your place by the latest 6:45. There were countless times when you’ve both missed the reserved time because either one, you fucked one too many rounds at home before heading out, or two, you fucked in the car en route to the restaurant. 
Satoru hoped he would stay sane tonight. All he had to do was endure a couple more hours and when the clock hit midnight, it was game over. 
But when you open your apartment door, it wasn’t a surprise his body moved before his mind could register.
Because when you open the door, giggling while innocently tilting your head to the side as you put on your earrings, the ring on your promised finger sparkling from the backlight, something snapped within him. And despite your lips moving, he couldn’t hear a word you said but the annoying, monotonous ring in his ears as his eyes sharply fixated on you while you made your way to wrap your arms around him.
No, don’t do it. Don’t come.
And in that moment, everything within him exploded.
Before you both even know it, he’s rushing inside your apartment, prying off his shoes while he pushes you onto the wall with his lips desperately smashed on yours. With your wrists caged in one of his larger palms as the other quickly stripped you of your clothes, despite knowing you were on a time crunch, you didn’t necessarily feel compelled to be on time — better, maybe not even make it at all.
“Satoru —” you yelped, only for your voice to morph into wonton moans as his lips suffocated your lungs from the air.
The sound of teeth clashing, hands hunting for more bodily warmth combined with the lewd whines that dissipated from each lips heated your core — just enough to push you onto the edge with your juices pooling in your panties.
His hands expertly slide down your stomach and to the crevice in between your legs. His fingers shove the fabric to the side, exposing your wet cunt that’s just so ready to be played with and touched.
‘Tor —” you barely managed to call his name, his mouth overwhelming with strength as he forced his tongue into yours. With teeth clashing and his hands desperately stripping himself of both your clothes and his, he growled while tugging your lip with his teeth, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
“O-our reservation!” you cried out, desperately holding onto him with a leg hooked around his waist, relying on his strength to stand on one foot. With his shirt hanging off his torso, hair now messy and frazzled while he littered your skin with kisses that left you begging for more. 
“Fuck that,” he growled, his breath sounding rough as he threw his freshly pressed shirt on the floor — one probably worth more than your rent itself. 
“It’s nothing new that we’re always late, princess,” he taunted, with his palm placed at the base of your jaw, cupping your cheeks with his left hand while his right unzipped your dress, smirking when it landed on the floor with a thud.
“I told you, angel,” cocking his head to the side as he swiped his tongue upward on your lips, his eyes piercing straight into yours, “ the longer I kept this up the harder you were getting fucked.”
“It’s not over till tomo — ahhh, ” you moaned when his fingers finally played with your folds, and eventually your clit.
“Sorry, I tried, I really did, baby,” groaning as his lips dragged against your neck, his teeth hungrily nipping at your skin while he rubbed circles against your hardened bud. The erotic sound of your slick swirling against his fingers was a combination of embarrassment but also ease – you shouldn’t so readily give in, but oh you wanted to get fucked so badly.
With his vacant hand quickly unhooking your bra and groping your breasts, Satoru kissed his ways down to harshly suck at your nipples, “ but goddamn, i think you’ll actually kill me with this.”
“From not having sex?” you pulled at his hair, both legs automatically wrapping around his waists as he sloppily kissed your mounds, the slime of his saliva coating your areolas to replicate nature’s greatest gem.
“Yea, because my nut’s seriously about to explode,” unbuckling his pants while shimming them down to his ankles, pulling one of your hands down to stroke his heated member, while he pushed your panties to the side, swirling his finger around your clit.
“Gotta take good care of my future children, you know? This is very dangerous, so so dangerous.”
“You’re being r-ridiculous oh,” you moaned out when he pinched your clit, his darkened eyes watching your every expression as he opened his mouth in unison with wonton looks. 
“Shhh pumpkin, aren’t you so cute, ” nibbling on your ears as his sensual breathing made your mind fuzzy and legs wobbly, increasingly more from the soaking sounds of your cunt being played with was ludicrous and naughty, “it’s always over when I say it’s over.”
Humming as he brought his wet fingers up to examine, “god, you’re soaked,” chuckling as he murmurs, “isn’t that fuckin’ cute.” the glimmer of his middle and ring finger enticing him more. “See, you want it too, no? Isn’t my silly girl just ready to be fucked.”
“yes, I want it. want it so, so bad—need it,” you mewled, letting out a soft whimper when he suddenly kissed you, grunting into your mouth.
“but let me release one real quick, ” groaning in between the kiss, "it’s a bit painful," as he palmed at his cock, “where do you want it, sweets?”
“Me…” with cheeks heated, you admitted.
“I asked where,” his words more strained and impatient as the pacing of his palms around his member was getting increasingly faster with more vigor.
And instead of answering, you pointed at the valley of your breasts, pooling your mounds together to catch every drop of his seeds on your skin. 
“Fucking god, I love you,” Satoru cock twitches in his hand, “get on your knees for me, princess,” he ordered before slapping his hardened length on your cheek, “ what my girl wants, is what she gets,” hissing while stroking his shaft, looking down at your sweet position — just ready to take his load. It’s not a surprise that Satoru cums fast, and he comes hard.
When he catches you eyes anticipating for his seeds, to cover you with his release, the knot that’s been burning inside him finally starts to snap. The pleasurable, deep coil of his cum shooting through his slit meshed with your desperate desire to have yourself plastered with every essence of him was enough to drive him off the edge.
“Fuck ‘mma cum, gonna cum so hard baby,” Satoru made a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp, “gonna cum baby… i —i shit shit…” 
And he does, straight on your chest, splattering bits to the floor and some to your chin, barely making its way into your mouth — a whole fucking mess. 
Panting while he pulled out every ounce of his seeds, thickly splurting out of his sensitive tip, Satoru murmured under his hitched breath, “sorry baby, i—i don’t know what just happened there, fuck.”
“you made a mess,” you chuckle, smiling with a crinkle on your nose.
“Shit… sorry, let me just,” Satoru grabbed his shirt to help clean you off, “but damn such a waste,” you pouted. Annoyed that he didn't get to cum inside you, but also grieving for the loss of his precious seeds going into the trash. 
“It’s your fault,” he murmured, concentrating on cleaning every ounce of his cum off you, “if it wasn’t for that stupid bet, we could’ve done this every day, as much as you wanted,” mimicking your voice with a shake to his head, “but nooo, you had to just bet on my demise.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, “let me have you,” cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, his soft lips that you’ve missed so much, “fuck me, ‘Toru, I want you just as bad — so so badly.”
“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned when he felt the tightness of your hole firmly wrapping a ring around his member. Rhythmically pulsing his hips, slowly gulping down his spit while he closed his eyes, trying his hardest to concentrate so he didn’t pull another quickie and cum prematurely. 
It was a couple hours after he came on your breasts, and a few sessions of sex thereafter that. After multiple positions and fucking in different spaces of your apartment, finally, you’ve made it to the bedroom. 
Feeling your soft walls pulsing and warming his length, just so tightly embracing his cock, inviting him further inside as he settled into you — his home, a place of refuge as he’s held so carefully not only in your arms but also by your cunt. 
He’s eaten you out. Fuck, you tasted so good. His starved appetite satiated with every sucking of your folds, and slobbering of his tongue against your pussy.
He’s watched you squirm and sprinkle the couch, squirting warm liquid while he fingered your cunt. 
He’s seen just how far he can enter when he measured the length of his cock magically disappearing inside you, making you relish in his reign as you shuddered with every impact. 
And he’s felt the warm gush of your cum coating his cock, making a white ring around his length every time he pulled himself out, only to slam it back in. Bullying your wet folds while he painfully swirled his fingers around your clit, satisfied that your cum meshed in with his prior ejaculations were stuffed deeply — fully — inside you.
Your hips buck in tandem with his, matching his rhythm but barely following his pace as he slams into you. His heavy balls slap against your swollen cunt with every thrust of his hips, mildly splattering remnants of his cum off your pussy. And as he buries his cock into you, going as deep as he can, with every thrust you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the depths of your caverns. your abused cunt continuously sucking him in and hugging around him, tempting him for more, as he groans into your neck, his lips now swollen and red. 
You weren’t entirely sure if he noticed, but you sure did. The throbbing of his cock tightly wrapped by your velvet walls, with every move of his body, made your insides churn into a symphony of pleasure, making you desire more for his cock to bully your cunt — especially when his head brushed against your sweet spot.
The friction of your body meshing with his feels sickening. The thick air of the room makes him feel lightheaded as if he’s being baited in between the realms of reality and another infinite dimension, teasing between the boundaries of possibly falling into an unknown abyss or comfortably landing straight home into your arms. 
It’s always been like that for him. Through all the years he’s been with you, he’s been the one that loved more, loved harder, loved desperately. He doesn’t hold it against you nor does he find fault in what type of lover he was. He just — just, doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm, his soul flourishing in your sovereignty. 
Heart lasciviously yearning for more.
“Right there ‘Toru,” you sob, “right there, give me more more” — of course it’s right there. He’s studied you front and back, but it wasn’t just right there. Because as his thumb finds your clit again, pressing desperate little circles to get you over the edge, he knows it’s actually right there when you squeeze on his cock, your eyes falling to the back of your head while your breaths start to stagger.
That’s — that’s when you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “S-satoru,” you gasp, “fuck, k-keep going."
But that — that was a shocker. 
Normally he’ll ride out his orgasm after he’s seen you finish off. But, strange… when he sees the needy glint in your eyes, the tremble of your lips as you used every ounce of your strength to pull him in while you cupped his face, your legs mercilessly bouncing with every thrust of his hips while your thighs were firmly pressed into your chests. 
Murmuring under your breath while you encouraged him to keep going, the invitation has him quickly falling into his own — hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you, shooting in waves with every twitch of his cock, with every groan pulled from his throat that soon formed into sweet whimpers that he harmonies into your neck, while fucking his load into you and as you held him in your arms, purposefully clenching to edge him off. 
But still, it’s almost embarrassing how fast he cums. Even more embarrassing is how he’s currently withering in your arms, trembling from the aftermath of pumping his hot seeds into you, desperately holding onto you with his face planted into the crook of your neck. 
The way his cum spills out of you and coats his cock, it’s perfect and feels just right. Despite your eyes about to fall shut, you can’t help but think how perfectly he fits intertwined with your body, his slowly softening cock nestled just perfectly inside you as he slumps on top of you, panting from the prior tumultuous rounds of fucking like rabbits as he cages you in his arms.
It’s warm — not only inside you, feeling the clumps spilling out, but love. 
Loving him was warm. Loving him was right. 
Groaning on top of your body, “Don’t ever ask me to do this again.” You can feel his cock slowly start to take its shape again inside you, it was quick but the viscous lumps of his fluid quickly slipped out to make more space for his cock to fill you again.
More — he wanted more. 
“B-but I could’ve treated you out —” your voice was almost gone. You’ll probably get a noise complaint from your neighbors the next morning. 
“babe, the best way you can treat out your baby girl,” Satoru rasped as he fully slipped himself inside you again, eyes rolling to the back of his head for a short moment before carnally staring into your eyes, “is letting him fuck you whenever he wants —”
“Wait wait!” you covered his lips with your hands, cheekily looking up as you then cupped his face, amused as you watched the discontent growl plastered on his expression morph into a pout.
Grumbling, Satoru huffed, “That’s all I've been doing this past month —” 
“I said wait!" stifling his whine, pulling him closer to your bosom to place a kiss on his forehead, delighted to hear the small ring of your phone jingle in tune.
“happy birthday loser,” you cooed.
“You’re the worst for making me go through this,” he chuckled while caging you in, his arms surrounding your head as he brushed his finger against your cheek, his thumb lingering against your swollen lips that were softly smudged with lipstick, “but thank you, 'm getting older, but i’ll fuck you even harder,” he proposed with a wink.
“Wow…” unbelievable that he still had energy, “even with a month of no sex, you’ll still so horny.”
“Yea, because we gotta make babies now,” Satoru chirped, his lips making its way to your swollen nipples, sucking on the tips.
“Thought you didn’t want kids?” 
“Eh, I figured… having a little gremlin like Megumi or Tsumiki-chan wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Just admit it,” running your hands through his sweaty hair, “you like them a lot more than you’ll admit.”
Suddenly propping his head up like a groundhog, with spit trailing down his chin, he corrected, “False, I like them only to an extent because I get tabs on their dad.”
“Tabs about who he’s dating? Why are you going to sell that to the tabloids?” 
“Exactly, Tsumiki-chan always spill the tea, and plus that fart needs some action.” 
“Even though you’re my boyfriend, you really are something.”
“Eh, i’ve gotten better compliments,” he shrugged, his attention going straight back to your nipples.
“ ‘Toru… d-do you think Suguru made it?” a moan slipped from your lips while you positioned yourself more comfortably under him, getting yourself ready.
Letting go of your nipples with a sharp pop, “That fucker wouldn’t lie to me — oh fuck” your boyfriend released a gluttonous moan as he furrowed his brows, hissing while clenching his stomach from absolutely losing it right then and there, “d-don’t clench so suddenly like that.”
“Gotta keep up with the pace, baby girl,” licking your lips while cocking a brow. “So… are you going to fuck me,” clenching while you tugged his hips down to your pelvis, hearing him hiss on the impact made your guts tighten while you watched him melt from the pressure surrounding his heated length pulsing inside you. 
Using all your strength to turn your bodies around, now saddling your legs against his hips as you watched his stunned expression from above, it felt nice being in control. and fully sinking onto his cock as you started rolling your hips in repeated motions, in between wanting breaths, you asked,
“or am I gonna have to fuck you, pretty?” 
— next morning.
Ding!
From: Asshole
so did you succeed? 
To: Asshole
nah, fucked last night. you?
From: Asshole
nice.  but happy birthday, bro.
To: Asshole
thx so, you pulled through?
From: Asshole (5 hours later)
nah, we fucked the day after making the bet.  fucked again just now, too :P
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author's note: omg... first sooo sorry for the lack of editing on this. holy smokes, it was way too long and i didn't dare to read through all of this. but if you have, thank you! i greatly appreciate you
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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With a Bang
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You want to look nice for the New Year's Eve party and Bucky doesn't want to share you with anyone else. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Insecurities, established relationship, implied explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Last writing for 2023! You lovelies wanted Bucky for NYE. Also dedicating this to @tumblin-theworldaway after chatting about the photo below and for being so supportive throughout the year. Love you, Aqua! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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“It isn’t too late to back out!” Bucky called out from the living room.
You couldn’t help but smile as you slipped your shoes on. Tony had decided to throw a New Year’s Eve bash at the tower and everyone was expected to be there, but your boyfriend wasn’t exactly thrilled to go. You had a feeling he didn’t want to deal with the crowd or the noise, but planned to suck it up since you wanted to go. You wouldn’t make him stay long.
Just long enough to make an appearance before you two went home to ring in the New Year together.
“But I got all dressed up for you, Bucky!” You called back, groaning a little as you looked at yourself in the full length mirror.
You had examined your reflection from just about every angle to make sure you looked as close to perfection as you could achieve. The short dress wasn't too fancy or too casual, all black to go with Bucky's t-shirt since he insisted that he wasn’t dressing up for the party. The fabric hugged you in all the right ways and showed off just enough skin to keep his attention, but covered enough to leave him craving more.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you hoped Bucky liked what he saw.
“All the more reason to stay home,” he joked a little.
With a deep breath, you pushed your shoulders back and left the bedroom. You managed not to lose your footing as you found him waiting for you in the living room. The butterflies that filled your stomach never stopped fluttering at the sight of the former assassin.
“What do you think?” You asked as you did a slow twirl. “Do you like it?” You added in a quieter tone.
You wanted to look good for him.
Bucky didn't speak as his eyes swept over you from head to toe. You tried not to squirm under the heat of his gaze, but your heart rate picked up as the silence stretched on. You couldn't stop your thighs from pressing together when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“No,” he finally said, his mouth set in a grim line a heartbeat later. “No fucking way you're going out in that.”
His reaction caught you off guard and you knew your face fell at his reaction. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your voice when you mumbled, “I wanted to look nice.”
He closed in on you and held your chin in his warm hand before you could look down, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze. It was like swimming in the ocean and you allowed the waves to sweep you away. “And you do look nice. You’re so beautiful, baby. You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
You almost hid your face from embarrassment at the loving praise, but his grip prevented you from doing so. “You really think so?”
“I do,” he said, giving you a subtle smirk as his hand fell back to his side. “You’ll also look beautiful sitting on my cock, so we’re skipping the party.”
Arousal shot you like a bolt of lightning, the sensation almost making your knees buckle. As nice as that sounded, it was getting late. “And I will as soon as we get back, but we have to go,” you said, grabbing his hand and giving it a small tug when he made no move to get his jacket. “Come on. Everyone is going and they’re expecting you.”
“Everyone is going, but us,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips when you tried to pull him forward again. He stayed rooted to the spot. “Why do you want to go so badly?”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you considered his question. “I don’t know. Maybe because I want to go to a New Year’s Eve party with my boyfriend and have a bit of fun,” you said, something swirling in your gut the more you thought about it. “And maybe I want people to see I can measure up to you.”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes and you wished you could take that last statement back. Before the two of you started dating, you would've pegged him as an enigma. You never knew what he was thinking when he assessed people with a cool gaze. But that particular stare? You knew it well.
It was a look he always gave you when you said something self-deprecating or worse.
“Measure up to me?” He asked slowly.
You toyed with the hem of your dress with a small nod. “Yeah, Bucky. Measure up to you. Because you look like… well, that with hardly any effort,” you gestured to the t-shirt stretched over his broad chest before you pointed to his perfectly combed short hair. “And look how long it took me to look like this.”
You weren’t sure exactly why you were making a comparison. You felt beautiful and knew you looked good. But insecurities didn’t disappear overnight and sometimes surfaced at the most inopportune moments.
Bucky’s nostrils flared before he put his hands on your hips. “Baby, you’re stunning. A fucking goddess. I should drop to my knees and worship you right now,” he said, his words warming your heart and starting to overpower the mean voice in your head. “Did I do something to make you feel any less than that?”
“No, you didn’t,” you promised. Bucky was just as enamored with you as you were with him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. From the moment you met, he displayed a level of openness with you that you didn't witness with most. He was careful with who he let close to him and who could blame him after what he had been through? “I don’t know. I guess I just want your friends to see that I’m worth being by your side.”
Your boyfriend looked a little taken aback. Why did you have to open your mouth? “Are you kidding me? Baby, everyone loves you. A few don’t think I’m worthy of being with you.”
Your eyes squinted, the need to protect and defend Bucky bubbling beneath your skin. “Who said that? Tell me now and I’ll make them eat their words.”
Bucky blinked before he chuckled, his nose and eyes crinkling. It brightened up his whole face. “Easy, tiger. You can put your claws away because I put them in their place,” he said, giving you a soft kiss to distract you. “And I’m telling you if I take you there tonight, they won’t leave you alone. Tony will hit on you. Sam will flirt with you. Steve will keep checking you out, too, and he’s my best friend.”
“Good, then you’ll see what I have to put up with when I go out with you,” you teased slightly with a poke to his chest.
He scoffed and gripped your wrist. “Girls don’t hit on me.”
You raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the words that came out of his mouth. He was an old man, but he wasn’t that old. Bucky had perfect eyesight and hearing, so he certainly saw when people hit on him and heard the flirty cadence in their voices.
“Just like Steve Rogers, you’re a terrible liar. But thank you anyway,” you said, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “Now why don’t you want to go to the party? Is it the crowd? Because I won’t make you go if you’re uncomfortable.”
You wouldn’t put him in a position to panic or retreat into himself if really didn’t want to go.
“I can handle that for a couple of hours. I promise.”
“Then why are you so eager to stay?” You asked, stopping him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say it’s to sleep with me. We both know you’re getting laid tonight.”
He let out a breath. “I guess part of me just doesn't want to share you with the rest of them. Not tonight,” he admitted, his smile bordering on apologetic. “Because you're my girl.”
Your heart raced again at his admission. It wasn't a red flag of possessiveness or trying to isolate you. He just wanted the pleasure of your company.
“And I’ll always be yours,” you promised, pulling him in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, the promise of more to come. A groan filled his chest as he deepened it and he didn’t stop until you felt dizzy, your breathing heavy when he pulled away.
It was a crime that he could kiss the way he did and one you wanted him to commit again and again.
“One hour,” he exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours. “One hour and I’m taking you home.”
“Two hours,” you countered, sliding your hand over his chest to feel how fast his heart raced. “And three dances.”
“Hour and a half. Two dances,” he offered, rolling his hips against yours. Your eyes fluttered as he rocked them again. “And a kiss at midnight in our bed.”
You hummed before you nodded. “Deal. And maybe, just maybe, you can even pour some champagne over my body and lick it off.”
You felt the deep rumble in his chest as his head fell back. “Fuck kissing you at midnight. I’m making you come on my cock as the clock counts down.”
Your entire body trembled, heat flooding your face before it rolled down your neck. “Nothing says ‘Happy New Year’ like an orgasm.”
He lifted his head, something soft in his eyes as he smiled. “Or being with the one you love,” he whispered, your heart skipping a beat as he pressed one more kiss to your lips. You loved him, too. “Now let’s go. I have a goddess in my arms I want to show off.”
“Okay,” you smiled, but he didn’t let you go. “Bucky?”
“Actually. One more thing,” he said, removing the dog tags from around his neck. He swallowed a bit before he put them over your head, drawing a gasp from you. “Sorry. They probably don’t go with the dress.”
You touched the dog tags with infinite tenderness, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, knowing how much it meant for him to give them to you. “Thank you.”
You’d take care of them and wear them with pride.
He breathed a sigh of relief that you accepted them. “You’re welcome,” he smiled, brushing away a tear that fell from your eye with his thumb. “Now we can go.”
Bucky was right. Of course, he was right. You turned multiple heads at the party and swore he growled when Tony, Sam, and Steve got too close, but you didn’t leave his side once. You were his girl and everyone knew it.
He even managed to get you to leave in under an hour, but made it up to you with an extra dance at home in the living room. He also gave you an earth-shattering orgasm at midnight like he promised after he stripped you down, his name spilling from your lips as he took you apart. He was still buried inside you as you kissed him, pouring your heart and soul into it. He gave all his love back to you in return.
“Happy New Year, Bucky,” you whispered, framing his face as his weight settled over you.
He traced the dog tags around your neck with a gentle smile. You didn’t want to take them off. “Happy New Year, baby,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you close. Like you were the most precious thing in the world.
As you closed your eyes, you smiled. You didn’t just ring in the New Year with a bang. You got to spend it feeling loved and whole. And you got to spend it with the best man you knew.
The one you were lucky enough to call yours.
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Love and thanks to each of you lovelies for taking yet another ride on my nonsense train! ❤️ See you in 2024.
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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Dick loves your plushie collection.
He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.
He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.
So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.
If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc
Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.
You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…
Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(
It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.
Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.
It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.
He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.
Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.
So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.
‘You look perfect.’ -Jason
‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you
‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason
‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.
Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.
‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason
‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you
‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.
‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.
‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.
‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’
You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’
‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.
Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.
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wilwheaton · 4 months
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This is from Star Trek Wholesome Posting on Facebook.
And because it's a FAQ, here's the story of The Infamous Clown Sweater, as I told someone who asked there:
"I did this fundraiser for EFF in San Francisco in ... 2001? 2002? Something like that. It was at DNA Lounge, and after we were done, this person came up to me with this horrific sweater (jumper, for you non-Americans). They told me it was part of The Infamous Clown Sweater Project. What's that, I asked. They told me they are getting as many people as possible to wear it and pose for a photo, which they would then upload to their webpage -- not website, webpage, because it was 2001 or so -- for all to see.
"Of *course* I was down for it, and that face I'm making in the first photo is my very real reaction to the _awful_ stank that was just infused in the acrylic fibers.
"The second picture is from a con about ... 2014? Something like that, based on how I look. Someone actually made their own version of that horrible sweater for me. One arm is too long, on purpose, the neck is all stretched out, on purpose, and it fits poorly, on purpose. It's so damn funny to me, and it came along at a moment when we were doing this "then and now" thing on Twitter (before the fascists took over).
"I still have the second sweater. I have no idea what happened to the original. Last time I checked, the website that hosted all those pictures -- so old it was manually coded in html, predating even Flickr -- was lost to the sands of time.
"But it never fails to make me smile when this picture comes back around. It reminds me of a specific time, when there was just so much hope for the online future we were all building."
And for those of you who are too young to know what Riker giving Wesley his "fondest wish" is, well ...
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Wesley wanted to grow up to be a blue-eyed blond who I'm pretty sure the costume designer wanted to fuck?
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GEORDI! You're not helping!
Look. I love you, Commander Riker, but ... you're gonna want to try again. Wesley's fondest wish rhymes with "marathon betazoid orgy on risa".
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arhvste · 2 years
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“i was wondering if i could have your instagram?”
your heart hammered against your chest as the anticipation weighed down on your shoulders as you stood in front of the confused boy in front of you.
“ah… i’ll have to get back to you on that.” iwaizumi replied quietly as your stomach dropped.
“oh… okay then thanks anyway!” you forced a friendly tone out to mask the utter humiliation and upset that had washed over your mood entirely upon the few words the dark haired boy offered.
the rest of the class was a blur to you. you spent majority of the time staring blankly ahead of you to face the backs of forgettable classmates heads. the only classmate that mattered to you in this particular class had rejected you just before the teacher walked in so from this moment on you had no motivation to pay attention or look forward this class.
the end bell rang and you mindlessly threw your belongings into your bag before dragging yourself through the halls to your locker to collect the rest of your belongings and head home. you didn’t even bother to wait for your friends, no. they could wait until you were in the comfort of your own home to hear you scream over the phone how embarrassed you were as a result of the rejection over something as casual as asking to be instagram buddies.
‘what sort of loser gets rejected for that?’ you almost had to laugh it was so stupid. ‘whatever.’ you thought as your feet carried you to the front gates of the school. you’d have to apologise to your friends in advance before blowing up the groupchat with your over dramatic tendencies but a little tlc from your friends was needed at this vital milestone of your life; your first ever rejection.
upon the endless string of thoughts running through your mind as you walked, you failed to pick up on the voice that had been calling after you repeatedly from behind you. you tended up at the feeling of someone gently tugging on your sleeve out of nowhere but that surprise was nothing compared to the surprised you felt upon seeing the culprits gaze.
“iwaizumi?” you asked as your classmate caught his breath. “you on a mission or something?” he huffed a little as you frowned. “yes. a mission to get home, so see ya!” you replied quickly as your pace in walk picked up again.
before you could march off, a hand tugging on the strap of your bag stopped you before you could flee the scene which happened to include the last face on earth you wanted to see right now. “before you run off again,” he started before pulling his phone out his pocket. “my instagram. you said you wanted it?”
you looked at the device in his hands with confusion. zero followers, zero posts, zero following and a cute yet handsome photo of iwaizumi in place of the profile picture icon. “i didn’t have one earlier when you asked, so i made one during that class so you could add me.” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from you as you fought the urge to pounce on him and bite him.
‘he’s so fucking cute.’
you tapped your own handle into his phone and followed yourself before grabbing your own phone to immediately follow him back. a weird sense of pride came over you seeing his follower and following go up by one and that one being you.
“you didn’t have to do that.” you insisted as you handed his phone back to him. “nah, i should’ve made one ages ago but i just never got around to it.” he admitted, the heat on his face finally calming down. “but now you can message me if you ever need anything… or if you just wanted to you know, talk?“ he muttered as the urge to bite the shit out of this man piqued once more.
“i’ll definitely message you if i need anything or if i want to talk but you can do the same too!” you hummed as you slipped your phone back into your pocket.
“i’ll keep that in mind.” he smiled before turning around to walk away. “please do.” you shot back before turning to make your own way home. offering a quick exchange in waves you marched home ready to text your groupchat about what had just happened until you felt your phone vibrate.
‘@iwa.hajime has sent you a message: see you tomorrow :)’
on second thought. maybe your group chat could wait.
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nightdiary · 2 months
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first dates with enhypen
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word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!
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✧ heeseung - tinder date
you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.
there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.
the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.
you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.
then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.
as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.
you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.
you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.
“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”
“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”
snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.
but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.
“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.
as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”
your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”
you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.
as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.
you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.
“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”
stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.
with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.
maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.
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✧ jay - rollerskating rink
for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.
you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.
“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”
your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.
“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”
“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.
“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”
the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.
“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”
jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.
“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.
as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.
“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.
jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.
snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”
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✧ jake - bowling
“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 
“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”
“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”
but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.
“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”
jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.
unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.
“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.
“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”
jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.
you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.
but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.
“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”
the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”
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✧ sunghoon - laser tag
your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.
the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.
surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.
the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.
in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.
taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.
your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.
“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”
“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.
looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.
sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.
“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.
“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”
there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.
so that’s what you do.
“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.
seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.
sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.
“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.
“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.
“victory kiss?”
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✧ sunoo - picnic
ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.
they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.
your hands itch to reach out and trace them.
“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.
you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.
“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”
"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”
“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.
“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”
groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.
“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”
sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.
“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”
reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.
“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”
sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.
your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.
he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–
“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”
pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.
“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."
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✧ jungwon - boba place
in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.
“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”
jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.
“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.
you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”
jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.
“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”
you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”
jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”
“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.
still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”
“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”
you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.
jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”
you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.
“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”
jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.
“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."
“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.
“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”
“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.
jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”
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✧ niki - arcade
“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.
the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.
“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.
the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.
“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.
you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.
“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”
“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.
with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.
“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.
after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.
“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 
the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.
“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”
staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”
the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”
laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.
you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.
“so– fried chicken?”
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l3monlem0n · 2 months
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Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>
SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering
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Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun
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She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband
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As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)
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Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already
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Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke
OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier
"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months
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Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode
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Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol
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Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper
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You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...
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...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)
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Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever
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friggin bug (very pos)
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You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):
NOT judge her
Forced prom date (?)
Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery
The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast
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This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof
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We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot
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There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?
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We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk
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Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded
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Just N being a good boy :3
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The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image
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Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)
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I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is
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Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)
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I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage
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Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun
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This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...
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...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)
(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)
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Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole
Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight
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outsideratheart · 4 months
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Time Has No Concept (Ingrid Engen x reader)
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It may not have officially been winter but that didn’t stop the -5 degrees feel any warmer. You always said you liked the cold weather or at least you weren’t bothered by it. Today was a true test of that. 
Walking out for the pitch inspection you only have one thing on your mind or more specifically one person. 
“It hasn’t even been a week” Keira tries to tease you but fails because you don’t bite. 
“I don’t care. I spend every day with her in Barcelona so when we’re apart a day is like a week.” 
It was true. It didn’t take much for you to miss Ingrid. You moved to Barcelona after the euros and quickly became friends with Ingrid. It stayed like that way until you won the Champions league. It was a night to be remember for more reason than one. 
Lucy and Keira agreed to go with you to Ingrid as she was with Caro and Ada. 
“Tell me why you, a Norwegian native, are wearing more layers than me?” 
“Because I’m not a human heater” Ingrid opens your arms and makes herself comfy. 
“Hello my love” you look down at her, fully disregarding the company around you. 
“Are you nervous?” Ingrid asks as she sees a crack in your confident persona. 
On game days you were serious, locked in and there was little anybody could do to steer you from this mindset. Ingrid however had the unexplainable ability to see through it and as she stands on the pitch in your arms she sees her girlfriend, not the England captain.
“About the game, of course not” you wink playfully “about what comes after, a little bit. I just want to make a good impression”
“Pull back your shots and maybe you will”
Ingrid knew you would never do as she asked so isn’t surprised when she gets a scoff as her reply. The two of you stay together in each others arms for a few more minutes as you involve yourselves in the conversation between Lucy and Ada. 
It was very well known that you hated wearing base layers but it was advised to put one on gor the game given that it might snow was forecast. That didn’t stop you from removing the thermal layer within the first ten minutes when you saw their goalkeeper go down. At half time most of them put a second base layer on and an extra pair of gloves whereas you opted for a cup of tea instead.
The post match team huddle was one of the quickest in team history and the lap around the pitch that followed matched it. Only one or two England players remained on the pitch to thank the fans, you were one of them. Once the last photo was taken your attention shifted to a different kind of fan.
There she stood talking animatedly with two people who you recognised from the time Ingrid FaceTimed home whilst staying at your apartment.
“Y/N!” The younger boy, Ingrid’s nephew you think, shouts.
“Look at you” Ingrid cannot believe you are standing next to her in the now -8 degrees, maybe even colder, in only shorts and a shirt. No base layers, no gloves, no coat “You’re going to get a cold”
“You forget that I don’t get sick, it’s my superpower. Besides, I’ll have you to keep me warm” you are millimetres away from kissing her when you are interrupted.
“Y/N, please can I have your shirt?” 
“No”
“Yes”
Much to Ingrid’s dismay you give her nephew your shirt. He takes his coat off and quickly puts your shirt on over Ingrid’s. The smile on his face rivals the Cheshire cat’s and you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear that the look on his face makes it worth it. 
Ingrid holds her jacket open and pulls you close as you chat away to her brother about the game, happy with the fact that the two of you get along well and that you will have a familiar face when you meet everybody else a little bit later. It is only when she feels you shivering against her does she politely end the conversation so that you can go inside the stadium.
“Shower, please. No ice baths. We can go on a recovery walk tomorrow” your girlfriend knew your post match routine well at this point but prayed that tonight you would stray without any arguments. 
“Yes ma’am” you salute her before doing as your told. 
Almost two hours later you were pulling up to Ingrid’s parents house. Ingrid seemed confident that her family would like you. The way she grabbed your hand and led you into her childhood home did ease the nerves building inside you. 
Luckily for you, Ingrid’s nephew is the first to see you and pulls you over to show you his Legos. You can’t believe that you are using a child as a shield against her family. 
The protection doesn’t last long because your girlfriend soon calls you over to her parents. You had practiced this speech plenty of times in the mirror. 
Mr and Mrs Engen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. 
Yet when you get within a meters distance of them you freeze. These are two of the most important people in your girlfriend’s life and making a good impression on them is a must. 
They stare at you for what feels like an eternity and you can also feel Ingrid’s eyes on you too. Another thing you notice in the corner of your eye is the smirk that is tugging at her lips. 
“You were right. In person she isn’t anything like she is on the pitch” her father says. 
Still you are frozen. Do you slip the player switch on and play the confidence card? No, that might be too much and they’d know it’s an act. 
“Hyggelig å møte deg” you hold your hand out for both her father and her mother. 
Their eyes widen and you don’t know if it’s in shock or horror. Your girlfriend’s silence didn’t help either. 
“I said nice to meet you, right?” 
Ingrid leans in and kisses your check. 
“Elskling, it was perfect” Ingrid compliments you. 
“She is right. The pronunciation was very good” 
“Ingrid didn’t say you knew Norwegian” her father adds. 
“Our team mate Caroline has been teaching me after training” 
Ingrid knew you had been having lessons with Caro, you had told her that much. She just assumed it was Spanish because of how quickly you picked up the native language of your new club. Never in a million years did she think you’d be learning her language. 
The four of you talk for a little while. You get to know Ingrid’s parents and they ask all sorts of questions. They are mainly football and life in Barcelona related. You don’t get the hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you speech but you suspect they are waiting until you’re alone for that. 
After the introductions you retake your place on the floor with Ingrid’s nephew. His company you found a lot less intimidating. Her parent’s are sat on the sofa behind you watching the tv with some of Ingrid’s other relatives but you aren’t bothered by their presence. 
“Y/N” Ingrid shouts from the kitchen where she is helping her brother with the food. 
“Yes, my love” you reply. 
Ingrid’s parents share a look that you don’t see. Was the nickname you had given their daughter part of your English charm or were you really in love with her. 
“So you love our daughter?” Ingrid’s father asks rather boldly. 
“Pappa!” Ingrid comes to your rescue just in time. 
The three important words had not been said but the feeling was there. 
“I do” when you stand to your feet you feel betrayed by your body and mouth. 
“You do?” Ingrid face is the picture of shocked. 
“I do” you whisper softly “I think I’ve know for a while. Everything was made clear in the summer. I was heartbroken but you took me in your arms and held me until I was whole again” 
There it was. The admission that you, for some unknown reason, had been scared to make. 
Ingrid didn’t care that her family was surrounding her. She kissed you with the same passion as the kisses you share at home. It may not be an intense kiss but it is enough to convey her feelings. 
“I love you, I really do” 
What comes over you, you have no idea but you lean back in for another kiss, a peck. The public display of affection does earn a fake gagging sound by her brother before he announces dinner is ready and served. You do have to hold back a laugh when he goes the extra lengths to let everyone know he did it without his sister’s help. 
Later that night you get another hot shower to warm you up. Maybe your girlfriend was right about you getting sick. 
The two of you lay in Ingrid’s teenage room. 
“Did you really mean what you said earlier?” Your girlfriend asks you. 
“What did I say earlier?” 
Hearing this Ingrid sits up and slaps you on the chest. The impact send you into a coughing fit. 
“Don’t play with me. Also, you’re getting sick. Take these” 
You are handed two tablets which you take happily despite your stubbornness. 
“I meant it but I thought it was too soon and I didn’t want to scare you away. How was I suppose to tell you I love you after only being dating for a month, in fact we weren’t even dating, not officially” 
“You knew after a month?” 
“You think it’s too much. You see, this is why I didn’t want to tell you”
Your brain went into overdrive as you began overthinking your decision. 
“It’s not too much Y/N. I met you a year ago yet I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer. I would shock myself at how easy I would open up to you. When it comes to you it’s like time has no concept”
Nobody has ever spoken about you in that way. You were never anyone’s person until you met Ingrid.
“Jeg elsker deg” Ingrid pecks you on the lips “Jeg elsker deg” 
When you fall asleep that night you do so with a huge smile on your face and a sense of calmness that you very rarely feel. 
The next morning Ingrid wakes up to the sound of you coughing, or more accurately barking, in the bathroom. 
“I’m sick” you admit when you see Ingrid standing behind you in the mirror. 
“Come on I’ll make you some broth that will have you feeling good as new in no time” 
“You don’t have to. I’ve taken some more medicine, I’m ok” 
“I know I don’t have to. I want to and it’s what I do for the people I love”
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reemieme · 10 months
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SUCCESS STORY! (w photo proof)
story:
ive been in the LOASS community for around a month now, so ive been wanting a vinyl record player for like a few months and last week i was looking through amazon like “oh these are so expensive..” and then i was like im literally a master manifestor why dont i manifest it??? like i completely forgot ab the law 😭😭
anyway so that week i was just affirming to myself a few times a day like “oh yea i have a vinyl record player now!!”, i did SATS bc its fun, i talked to myself pretending i was talking to my friends bragging about my vinyl player, i searched online for new vinyl records to buy to play, and just STAYED IN THE STATE of having my record player. i didnt affirm 10k times, just everytime i thought of it to REMIND MYSELF i have it.
i ABSOLUTELY DID NOT waver. i did NOT get nervous about not seeing it in the 3d, bc i reminded myself i already have it so its fine. the law NEVER fails. so theres no room for failure. i lived in my imagination ion playing songs on my vinyl record player, (bc i LOVE visualization, if you love affirming then affirm for it instead!!) everytime i was like “i cant wait for my vinyl player” or “is it gonna be here?” or “hows it gonna come?” ECT i IMMEDIATELY flipped those thoughts with WHAT? i already have my record player wdym
tldr, i convinced my subconscious that i HAVE a vinyl record player, and since i lived in the 4d (imagination) where i have it, it reflected in the 3d bc thats the LAW. anyway, i wake up and theres a package at the door addressed to my name and i was so confused bc i dont order things. my parents had no idea where it was from and when i opened it, IT WAS A RECORD PLAYER RAHHH!!!
i literally SCREAMED yall i was like NO WAY. but i was also rlly confused so i looked at the address it came from and it was my aunt who lives a state away. (but we r REALLY CLOSE) so i called her and she was like “surprise!!! i know you love music so i decided to buy one for you because it was on sale.” and i was like OH ,Y GOD!! keep in mind she had NO CLUE i wanted a record player bc it never came up, and she NEEVR buys me gifts unless its my birthday or smthn which is in like 2 months. CIRCUMSTANCES DONT MATTER!
anyway here it is!!
i put a piece of paper w my @ next to it bc alot of bloggers r being called out for lying, and i dont want people to lose trust.
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(the second pic is on my floor, first on my bed.)
if u guys have any questions feel free 2 ask!! THANK YOU SO SO MUCH TO @coquetteprincesss @nakedbibi333 @fleurlx @miracledarling @aphrodieties @blushydior @cinefairy @gorgeouslypink @heliosoll @hhtpsjup1ter @oonasempire @piercedblunt @remcycl333 @voidprincessblog YOU GUYS ALWAYS HELP ME SO MUCH!!! i love all ur blogs tysm for ur help w the law ❤️
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adoresol · 4 months
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how do u think jungwon would be as a bf? sfw and nsfw maybe?
SFW: dates with him are often planned, we've seen how he likes to go to different places and i believe that would extend into his relationship. whether it be at build a bear (and he'd definitely make one to resemble you), or a kitten cafe (definitely risking his allergies but if it gets you to smile, he won't mind). he loves going to places with you, and he'll often take photos of you to set as his wallpaper.
— he absolutely loves kisses so much <3 he likes to greet you with a hug and a kiss on your forehead, or if you're greeting him he loves receiving a kiss right on his lips. whenever you shower jungwon with kisses, his face will flush red and his dimples will poke out of his cheeks because of your affection. he's easily flustered when it comes to you
— jungwon is a protective boyfriend who knows his boundaries and wouldn't want you to cross them. he can have his petty moments but at the end of the day, he will always communicate maturely because of how much you mean to him. in general, he keeps you close to him so ward off any creeps and weirdos. if he knows someone is bothering you, he won't hesitate to step in no matter how light or extreme the situation might be
— as previously mentioned, jungwon is very mature and he's big on communication. he's understanding and listens to your needs and wants as well. he's not the type to raise his voice or lash out, he can make remarks when he's disappointed or upset about something. but he will always apologize for his immaturities and mistakes while also wanting you to understand how he felt, the way he understands your side as well.
— he LOVES video calls so bad like he just wants to see your cute and pretty face. if you're the type to just show a part of your face or not at all, he'd literally be all up in the cam like "where's my pretty baby?" until you show yourself. texts you throughout the day no matter how busy he is, on the rare occasions where he goes mia it's because he's found sleeping and a photo def gets sent to you from one of the members of him sleeping
— jungwon is someone who's love languages i believe would be words of affirmation and physical touch. he loves to praise you in any way he can, making sure that he reassures you of any insecurities and make you feel so, so loved. besides kisses, he loves when you hug him from behind while he's washing dishes or grabbing something from the fridge. he loves holding you on his lap with his head resting on your shoulder. he loves when your hands are holding his, etc.
— being with jungwon would feel very comforting, his presence never fails to make you feel at ease. he's your shoulder to cry on but he wants to be able to rely on his partner as well, he's a young leader and he tends to have his own doubts as well. he's someone who doesn't want to burden someone else so someone who is able to know him and understand him is so important to him.
NSFW — i'd say he has a solid sex drive, it's not too high and it's not too low (unless he's super busy </3 but he makes up for it so much) jungwon knows you miss him and he pays for it, orgasm after orgasm, he never denies making you feel good. he loves it when you get needy for him, and never minds it. whenever he's playing games, he lets you ride him, your arms draped around his neck as you take in his length. he'd be steadily holding you with one arm wrapped around your waist as the other held the controller. honestly, he'd lose focus once you go faster, his hand flying to lift up your shirt and play with your nipples.
he doesn't enjoy phone or video sex as much, but he knows how needy you get when he's gone so he pulls himself aside to help you cum over the phone. “baby misses me, hm? can't last a few hours without me, can you?” and when he's on tour it's literal hell but anyway.. jungwon loves whenever you send him pictures of your boobs, wishing that he could touch them and lick them all over. he'd get super desperate but he's much better at retaining himself until he actually gets to see you again.
jungwon's favorite positions are missionary, cowgirl, and reverse cowgirl. he loves missionary for the sole person of being able to look at your facial expressions, being able to press kisses onto your neck and tits. whenever you're riding him, he loves to feel your nipples brush up against his bare chest, watching as they bounce up and down. his mouth wrapped around your tit while his fingers play with your nipple. he loves hearing you whine and moan, it turns him on so much. it's his goal to hear you grow louder and louder over time. he loves reverse cowgirl when your back is pressed up against his chest, his hands flying to your chest and thrusting up into you.
jungwon loves praising, with a lil dumbification kink. he'd constantly tell you how good you are, taking him so well and how you're making him feel so good. he wants you to cum over and over again until you are completely spent. “baby's all fucked out, isn't she?” as he thrusts into you, a smirk painted onto his lips at how messy you look. he also loves eating you out with so much passion, he basically makes out with your pussy. he absolutely loves getting head, he's not the type to fuck your face but he likes to guide the pace while you suck him off, and he'd moan so loud at the feeling.
whereas jungwon as a sub is him wanting to make you feel good, he wants to hear praises coming from your lips at how good he's eating you out or how well he's fucking you. he loves when you tug on his hair when he's going down on you or scratch his back as he fucks into you. whenever you're the one taking care of him, he'd be so whiny and fidgety. he loves whenever you give him a handjob or a blowjob, wants to cum all over your hand and watch as you lick it up from his chest. or to see his cum splattered all over his chest and lick his own cum off of your tits <3
links: one, two, three
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captainreecejames · 2 months
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Can't Crop
A Failed Soft Launch Story (Lewis's Version)
an - OMG the reception to my last few posts has been amazing, I really didn't think that would happen. Thank you all so much and I'm really grateful you all liked them.
pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings : none
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ynusername posted a story
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replies to your story
yourbsfinstagram : girl you can't crop a picture to save your life ynusername : foul 🖕🏼🖕🏼
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liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others
ynusername roscoe has a mom now
tagged : lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
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georgerussell63 you'd think for such a good photographer you'd be able to crop a photo ynusername fuck off
lewishamilton always getting my best angels ynusername you have no bad angels shut the fuck up georgerussell63 someone's pissy today ynusername george I'll show you pissy
ynstans yes girl!!! show him off!!!!
lewishamiltens how is he so fucking pretty ynusername wish I knew, it's kinda annoying that he's so beautiful
mercedesamgf1 looking good lewis
ynfans1 yn is gonna turn into a roscoe fanpage now yourbsfinstagram as she should, he's a king lewishamilton you're never babysitting him again yourbsfinstagram what??? why??? lewishamilton because now he barks along to dua lipa ynfans1 all of this happening under my comment>>>>
dualipa shall I send a personalized sweater? yourbsfinstagram for me? yes please
roscoelovescoco loves yous moms
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nomercymaster11 · 5 months
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Delicate Mornings
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I found this photo in Pinterest. I'll try my best to find the artist and properly credit him/her.
A/N: R-18! Law x Fem reader. A continuation of Tender Nights.
You awoke in the dimly lit Captain's quarters, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a warm ambiance. As you stirred, a gentle kiss on your left shoulder and the sensation of being pulled closer roused you from your slumber.
"Good morning, sexy," Law's deep, velvety voice whispered, sending shivers down your spine. The intimacy of the moment hung in the air.
"Good morning, babe," you replied, turning to face him. Your fingers intertwined with his, bringing his hand close to your face. Nestled against his chest, his body warmth enveloped you in a comforting embrace.
Leaning into his touch, you pressed your right cheek against his left palm, lips brushing lightly. The surprising tenderness in Law's demeanor towards you never failed to catch you off guard. His typically stoic exterior melted away in these private moments, revealing a side of him that was exceptionally gentle and caring.
The room held a quiet tranquility, with the ship's gentle creaking serving as a lullaby. The soft glow accentuated Law's features, highlighting the lines of his face and the subtle warmth in his eyes. In that serene moment, the connection between you and Law transcended the chaos of the pirate's life, creating a sanctuary in the heart of the turbulent seas.
The atmosphere in the Captain's quarters grew increasingly charged as Law closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, setting off a cascade of sensations that left you feeling like you were melting into the moment. The intensity of the kiss deepened as your tongues entwined in a delicate dance, a passionate rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of your hearts.
The subtle dance of his lips on yours only fueled the fire within you. He moved with purpose, his body hovering above yours, and you willingly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.
"You suddenly fell asleep on me last night," you told him, a playful accusation in your tone.
"I know, let me make it up for you," Law responded, his voice a seductive promise.
Passionate kisses continued to cascade down your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth that sent shivers down your spine. As his lips reached your neck, you could feel his warm breath against your skin, heightening the anticipation.
Your fingers traced patterns on his back, reveling in the sensations he ignited within you. His kisses go down to your breasts. He swirls his tongue over your nipple. He gave the same attention to your other breast and he sucks it harder. You slid a hand in between your thighs, cradling your clit between your fingers.
"I want you... now,"
he whispered, his words sending a jolt through your entire being as he delicately licked your right ear. The urgency in his voice spurred a newfound desire that coursed through your veins. With a deliberate yet sensual movement, he placed a pillow beneath you, offering support to your lower back.
He pulled down your delicate lingerie in one smooth movement. He did the same with his boxers and tossed it on the floor.
Your breath caught in your throat as Law's toned, chiseled naked body revealed itself to you. The sight of him was undeniably alluring, a testament to the physical allure that had drawn you closer. It was a surreal moment, and you found yourself momentarily taken aback by the intensity of the connection you were forging with him.
"You seem really quiet now, what's wrong?"
Law inquired, leaning down to get a closer look, his concern evident in his expression. His eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
"Uhm, no... I'm just savoring this moment with you," you replied, your hands gently cradling his face.
You offered him a reassuring smile, your eyes locking with his. The gravity of the situation didn't escape you, but in that moment, there was a shared understanding that transcended any words that might have lingered on your lips.
With both elbows supporting his weight, Law's face hovered just inches above yours. He slides his hand over his member and positioned it between your legs. He dragged the length of his member over your sensitive core, teasing it and gently sliding it in your folds. The head of his member nudges to your entrance.
The atmosphere shifted as he slides into you, filling you completely. He holds still, giving you time to adjust on his size.
He started to kiss you with a newfound hunger as he pulls his cock out and slams back in, pushing you higher with every thrust. Each touch of his lips leaving you breathless and craving more.
Your insides clenching around him, a mix of pleasure edged with pain racing through your nerve endings. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a world where time slowed, and every sensation became heightened. You moan as he drives in you again, raising your hips to meet his thrusts.
His kisses were a dance of passion, rough yet filled with an undeniable hunger, and you responded in kind, your fingers trailing along the contours of his back. The connection between you deepened with every touch.
In that intimate space, all that mattered was the heat of the moment and the shared connection between you and Law. The world outside ceased to exist as you surrendered to the intoxicating dance of passion and desire, a moment suspended in time.
“Turn over” Law's commanding tone sent a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you turned around, positioning yourself on your knees with your torso pressed against the mattress. The air thickened with anticipation as Law slid his left hand to your stomach, pulling you in and sliding his member into you, leaning down with his chest against your back. His lips found the nape of your neck, a tender prelude to the passionate encounter that unfolded. “Fuck, <y/n>-ya!”
He groans as he keeps his pace. You whimper as the head of his member continue hitting your g-spot with every thrust.
“Tell me what you want, <y/n>-ya”
He breathes into your ear, pulling back and punctuating each word with a hard thrust. His breaths coming hard and fast.
"Please, touch me," you implore, the urgency and desperation evident in your voice. “Here?” He slid his finger in between your legs and circle over your clit.
You dropped your forehead to the bed and clenched on the sheets. The sensation of his touch ignited a fire within you, and your abdomen tensed in response to the pleasure he skillfully bestowed upon you. Your cry of pleasure echoing in the intimate space.
"Lower your voice," Law whispered to your ear, his breath sending tingles down your spine. Despite his command, your response was a ragged breath, the pleasure he provided making it challenging to keep your voice in check.
"But I... can't...!" you admitted, your words punctuated by the pleasure that coursed through you.
"You're making me feel so good...!" you added, your voice a mixture of desire and desperation.
Even without seeing his face, you could sense the smirk playing on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the satisfaction he was bringing you.
The intensity reached its peak as you felt the impending climax approaching.
"Law! I'm getting close...!" you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper.
Law swiftly turned you around, his eyes locked onto yours.
"Come for me," he urged,
He pulled your hips up, lowered his weight and slide his entire length into you. He slows and pulses in and out. Bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth. His pubic bone rocking back and forth over your clit.
You clawed at his back, moaning as your body convulses and, in that moment, you surrendered to the wave of pleasure that washed over you.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, the final thrust brought you to the pinnacle of ecstasy. With arms tightly wound around each other, Law kissed you passionately, as if capturing the essence of your shared pleasure with each lingering kiss.
As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, Law collapsed beside you, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath of the intimate encounter. Satisfied and sated, you held onto him, feeling a sense of contentment in the warmth of the afterglow.
---
You lay on his bed, covered only with his blanket, while Law sat beside you on the edge.
"Are you going out now?" you inquired, breaking the post-coital silence.
"I want to stay longer, but this ship still needs its captain," Law replied, his fingers gently brushing against your forehead as he kissed it.
"You may rest here," he added, leaving you with a tender promise.
Law gathered his clothing, wrapped a towel around his waist, and with a final glance, he left the room to take a shower. As the door clicked softly behind Law, you found yourself enveloped in a quiet afterglow. Alone in his room, wrapped in the warm embrace of the pillow, you couldn't help but smile. A blush adorned your cheeks as you recalled the features of Law's face, etched in your memory.
With a sigh, you allowed yourself to sink into the bed. As you closed your eyes, a serene satisfaction settled within you, knowing that the world outside could wait for now. The room held the residue of passion, a secret shared between the two of you.
You drifted into a peaceful reverie, eagerly awaiting the next adventure that awaited you on the turbulent seas with your captain.
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vidavalor · 8 months
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The Blitz, Part 3 Theory: The clues that suggest what it might be about & how it's affected what's come after it
I rewatched 2.04/The Blitz, Part 2 last night and a moment stood out to me that made me think I have an idea of what might happen in the flashback we all seem to have collectively agreed is almost certainly in S3-- The Blitz, Part 3.
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When Crowley & Aziraphale are in the magic shop and Glozier is there in the background, the camera jumps to a pretty significant reaction shot for Glozier when Aziraphale tells Crowley that he has a Derringer hidden in a hollowed-out book in the bookshop. I think everyone sees that bit as important-- it's a literal Chekhov's gun sitting out there for the future story, after all-- but I was thinking about why it matters that one of the Zombie Nazis overheard this when they're... ya know... zombies. Their methods of murder tend to be a little more direct, yeah? lol What do they need a gun for when they eat people to death? But then it hit me why it will matter that Glozier heard this... it's not about the Zombie Nazis, exactly. It's about Furfur.
When we leave Furfur in 1941, he's just been embarrassed in front of The Dark Council by Aziraphale, who has swapped out the picture of him and Crowley for a flyer for the Ladies of Camelot, right? They literally laugh in Furfur's face. Furfur's entire plot in 1941 is about how he's been stuck in processing for millennia and he's trying to get out of it-- about how he's jealous of Crowley and the few others who get to go to Earth. He's dealt slight after slight after slight during this night in 1941. He fails to get proof against Crowley, who doesn't even remember him. He gets shamed and embarrassed in front of the higher-ups and his peers. His fledging... whatever it is exactly lol... with Shax-- who is the closest thing he has to a friend-- is damaged as she's gone out on a limb for him and he hasn't delivered. Most terrible, he's sure he's never going to get out of his miserable eternity of grunt work. He's *very, very, very* unhappy and boxed into a corner, right? So what does Furfur want, now that he's stuck in Hell forever and all of it is laughing at him?
Revenge. He wants revenge.
In the short term, he also wants someone to scream at, so he goes back up to Earth and finds the Zombie Nazis, who are roaming around London eating people. They can't go very quickly so they haven't gotten far and aren't hard to find lol. Furfur knows it's not exactly their fault that he was tricked by the angel as, technically, they completed the tasks they were given, but he's furious and he needs to vent it, so he starts yelling that he's going to revoke their zombie-life-on-earth clauses. (Even *the Nazi zombies* get to be on Earth and Furfur does not? Yeah, he's not going to be able to handle that...)
The Zombie Nazis, understandably after seeing that video he showed them in Part 2, start freaking out because they don't want that whole fly fate for all of eternity and they don't know how to reach anyone beyond Furfur so they'll do anything to keep Furfur from taking out his humiliation on them. Upon hearing that this is all about how Aziraphale tricked Furfur and got him humiliated by Hell, the Zombie Nazis start desperately suggesting that it's not too late! They can help Furfur still get Crowley and Aziraphale! Even if Hell thinks Furfur is a joke and won't listen to him about the angel and demon being involved, they can still help Furfur get revenge!
They bring Furfur to outside the bookshop to find Crowley and Aziraphale because that's where the Zombie Nazis say they saw them together earlier & they know Aziraphale lives there. Furfur's in a rage because through a side window, he's observing Crowley and Aziraphale drinking wine together by candlelight in what is the "I know you'd come through for me" scene from Part 2-- and Aziraphale even has the photo Furfur took of them earlier in his hand. (Insert here more of the recurring gag about Harmony lip-reading as now he's also looking through the window and probably gets a line like "he is saying it again! 'banana fish go-RILL-ah...'").
So Furfur is in a fur-furious rage here and is ready to murder these two but... there's just one *slight* problem...
He's a demon.
He can't get into the bookshop.
Aziraphale would have to invite him in and he's certainly not going to after their meeting earlier. But! This is when Furfur and the Nazis realize that there is someone in their group who *can* get in the bookshop...
....our fave fascist, Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt.
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As "Rose", Greta recruited Aziraphale-- entering his bookshop when she was a human, invited in by Aziraphale. She can still get into the bookshop. (It's also a parallel to Shax tricking Aziraphale into letting her into The Bentley in S2.)
Once Furfur and the Nazis realize this, the question then becomes: okay, so if Greta can get into the shop, how is she then going to kill Aziraphale and Crowley? (*Especially* Aziraphale, whom Furfur really, really, really loathes at this point lol.)
This is when we go back to the scene that triggered this meta, which is that this is when Glozier then volunteers the information he overheard in the magic shop-- that there's a Chekhov's gun in the bookshop.
The Derringer works as a weapon here to do that because, as Furfur himself pointed out during the magic show earlier, if Crowley had shot Aziraphale in the face, it wouldn't just be paperwork but it might not be possible for them to "put him back together again"-- indicating that there are some things that can happen to angels and demons that are irreversible and can effectively kill them, more or less-- and a gunshot to the head is one of them.
(I'm also realizing as I'm writing this that that Glozier's *ear* falling off in the magic shop is another nod to him having *heard* important information and so far, we've only seen half of what he heard pay off-- the time and location of Aziraphale's performance in the West End. We're still awaiting pay off of the gun bit.)
My bet is that Aziraphale's Derringer in a hollowed out book is something he actually *showed "Rose" like the cinnamon roll idiot that he is* lol... so once Glozier brings it up, Greta remembers and she knows what book it's in and exactly where it is in the shop.
So Furfur still cannot get in but Greta can get in... which means Greta is now the most powerful character here. If Furfur wants Aziraphale dead, Greta can make that happen... *if* they cut a deal. What kind of deal? Well, the only thing Greta is going to want that she thinks that Furfur could give her is to not be a zombie, right? To be alive again? Reverse the clause in the paperwork and give her her life back. Whether or not Furfur can actually do this (and I'm not sure if he can or not, really, but I'd wager probably not), Furfur tells Greta that he can and she and the other Nazis believe him.
The plan is that the four of them go to the bookshop, where Furfur activates a miracle blocker card for a few hours surrounding the shop in an effort to limit Crowley and Aziraphale's powers and give the Zombie Nazis the advantage. Once the miracle blocker is in place, Greta goes inside while Harmony and Glozier make noise outside, in an effort to separate Crowley and Aziraphale to make it easier to kill them by attempting to lure one of them outside. Greta is to kill the one that stays inside the bookshop while Harmony and Glozier are supposed to kill the one that goes outside. (This will not happen according to plan at all, whatsoever, but it does seem like the most likely plan these four characters could form where they all have a role in it.)
So because Greta is the only one who can get inside, she has go to into the bookshop and be the one who can kill, most likely in their mind, Aziraphale. She'll still be a staggering zombie when the extremely bright Furfur sends her in there to obtain and fire a gun at a pair of supernatural beings lol but she manages to sneak in the back door without Crowley and Aziraphale really hearing the breaking & entering... or whatever noises the other two are making outside... as Crowley and Aziraphale are a little busy gazing at one another.
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It would actually be a really funny, very Good Omens-y gag IMHO, if Greta is colossally unsubtle in entering the other side of the shop from where Crowley & Aziraphale are and is banging into stuff while Harmony and Glozier keep coming up with more and more insane noises outside... but Crowley and Aziraphale are too busy making heart eyes at one another to care or do anything about it. A very "did you... hear that?"/"oh, must be the war, let's go back to gazing" type of attitude with a steadily increasing series of sounds that are harder and harder to dismiss but they are trying, ok? lol. (This would also parallel Aziraphale ignoring the demons outside for as long as he could during The Ball in S2, until the bookshop begins literally breaking around them.)
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So while we watch scenes of Furfur and The Zombie Nazis Hatch A Plot, the relationship tension between Crowley & Aziraphale is building as much as the plot tension. They intercut Furfur & the Nazis scenes with Crowley & Aziraphale having quiet, romantic, candlelit glasses of wine after their very intense and illuminating evening together. Each time we go back to Crowley & Aziraphale... they seem to be getting increasingly cozier. They sit a little closer, they get a little looser around one another. Crowley's glasses might come off. We get the sense that this is all Going Somewhere and it's somewhere they've never let themselves go before but after the events of Blitz 1 & 2 tonight? It's becoming increasingly clear to them that they will. There's virtual certainty that if *nothing else happens* to these two tonight and they're just left alone for once, they're at least going to kiss and what we're watching is them slowly enjoying the path there and them enjoying silently knowing that they're going to.
At some point, we hop from the Nazis back over to Aziraphale asking Crowley if he'd like a little music... Aziraphale might even have something *modern* kicking around, he's excited to tell Crowley (like he might have been totally not at all fantasizing about this exact Crowley-dashing-in-his-suit-with-a-glass-of-wine-smoldering-in-the-bookshop scenario when he bought this record from Maggie's grandfather recently lol)... and he goes over to the gramophone to put it on and now we've got Crowley and Aziraphale with candlelight and wine and music and they're each just taking step after slow little step that slowly acknowledges the romance at play here. Aziraphale's record is probably Glenn Miller. We know he likes big band and The Bentley played him "Moonlight Serenade" in S2 and Glenn Miller also recorded "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", so it's one record where "Moonlight" could play and then, eventually, so too could "Nightingale" without Aziraphale getting up and moving away from Crowley... and you better believe that when we get to "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" playing that Crowley and Aziraphale are a literal breath away from kissing.
It'd be completely perfect to them, right? Very romantic. They're there together, alone, they've survived the Nazis and Mrs. H and threats of Hell and have spent the night gazing at one another and now they're here and it's quiet and there's candlelight and it's the familiar, comforting bookshop that is home for both of them... the same place, ironically, that they will drink wine together and make eyes at one another *for decades* after this night-- without Aziraphale putting on The Song, of course-- and you know they will think about 1941 every. single. time. while never actually recreating it.
(It's also why, when they're both wasted in the bookshop in S1's "Eleven Years Ago", Crowley is rambling on about bananas and gorillas and bouillabaisse/fish stew-- ya know, "banana fish gorilla..."-- and they're both so drunk and thinking about how they're almost out of time... and so they're both thinking of 1941 and wind up making those hilarious kissy faces at one another because they both obviously still want to actually kiss some 80 years after the night they almost did. Crowley also calls Aziraphale "baby" in the middle of his ramble. He might have called Aziraphale that in 1941, when they weren't drunk and were on their way to kissing. He also might have just wanted to, so it turned up in "Eleven Years Later" and might come up again later on in the present of S3, whenever they inevitably get to finally have a decent, uninterrupted, not painful kiss.)
Back in 1941, as we flip between Furfur/The Nazis and our heroes, maybe Crowley's even gotten comfortable enough to lose the glasses (though he can leave them on if he still has the hat on when they go to kiss so that he can take the hat off like a gentleman to kiss Aziraphale *swoon* and actually that's how Aziraphale died everyone surprise twist he's been dead since 1941 an a ghost this whole time lol)... and there's romantic big band on the record player and there was magic in the air and angels were dining at the Ritz when a nightingale sang in Bahhhrrrrk. Leeeeee. Square... and they're *almost* there, right? They're basically kissing. There is no way for either of them to ever legitimately pretend that was not was going to happen (even if they will try in the future lol) as their lips were a millimeter away and both of them want it and just like this and it's been six thousand years of pining and so, of course, that is when...
...Greta zombie-crashes into the room with Aziraphale's once-hidden Derringer aimed at them.
(Aziraphale's probably furiously muttering "oh good Lord" under his breath with a very different tone than in 1793 lol. That is his attitude, at least, if not the dialogue.)
So then they have to try to protect one another right and it's mild chaos for a moment as like Crowley starts looking out the window at Furfur and the rest of the Zombie Nazi Trio (paralleling his demons-outside-the-bookshop paranoia in S2) and realizes they were the noise while Greta is all "pity you both must die" again with a little smirk and Aziraphale is trying to calm her down and reason with her while also subtly trying to get close enough to get the gun and she probably fires but she's a zombie so she misses lol and he's like glancing over for Crowley and Crowley seems to disappear for a moment while Aziraphale stalls Greta and just when we think where the hell did Crowley go?! Aziraphale is about to be shot in the face!...
...Greta is shot in the face instead.
By Crowley.
With The Bullet Catcher.
And the bullet that was in Aziraphale's teeth a couple of hours ago.
Crowley has not so much has blown the fluff off a dandelion since he arrived on Earth six thousand years ago but you interrupt his first kiss with the angel and you. are. dead, you Nazi bitch...
I don't have a theory as to what happens after this beyond that we already know that Furfur is in Requisitions in the present now so he's going places lol. Also worth mentioning that Crowley or Aziraphale (I'd lean towards Crowley) could get shot by Greta's wild aim when they are trying to protect one another but it would be more of a graze that one could write a hundred h/c fics over than anything worth actually worrying about lol. It could be something like Crowley gets nicked but goes down as dramatically as he does in the paintball scene in S1 and Aziraphale is horrified but also fighting for his own life so he winds up focused on Greta and neither of them see Crowley slip away to come back with The Bullet Catcher... something like that. I'm just pretty sure that the fact that there are really *two* Chekhov's guns in the bookshop and that Greta is the only 1941 antagonist who can get inside it maths out to Crowley-- shooting her with The Bullet Catcher.
I'm not sure what happens to Harmony and Glozier. Aziraphale says in S1 that he's never killed anything so he can't kill anyone here and while I'm fine with Crowley mowing down Nazis with every Chekhov's gun left in the plot lol, I don't know that that's what happened or if, honestly, the two of them and Furfur just see Greta die through the window and run off. Maybe Aziraphale miracles the Nazis to Siberia. Who knows. But the main gist of it, I think, is that Crowley kills Greta when the Zombie Nazis and Furfur try to exact revenge on Crowley & Aziraphale and, in doing so, interrupt what would have been their first kiss and it's while "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" is on in the background so that every time the song comes up in the future, it's a reference to this near-kiss in 1941, adding layers to scenes from Soho 1967 to the end of S1 to the end of S2, etc...
Kind of makes Crowley desperately kissing Aziraphale in the middle of the bookshop while a vengeful Heaven, this time, is trying to separate them, even more aldkjlkfjlewje, yeah?
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I'd also like to just throw in here that it's actually possible that all of this is the same but they *did* kiss... that they were kissing when Greta burst in. Part of me really wants that to be the case. That maybe they did get to have this kiss, if only because even if only a tenth of what I've said above is anywhere close to right, it's still pretty romantic and it would be nice if they got to have that, especially then, even if it was ultimately interrupted. It's Soho 1967, though, that convinced me that they came *very* close but ultimately didn't (and honestly, the only way they don't in 1941 if they get that close is if they're interrupted and an armed Zombie Nazi crashing through the bookshop feels about right lol.) It's this bit from Aziraphale to me that says they almost kissed but didn't:
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The picnic was likely Crowley's 1827 date in Edinburgh. The Gabriel statue was there for amusement but you know Crowley had a picnic set up nearby. (It's not that weird-- people used to picnic in graveyards in the 1800s & the only time Crowley & Aziraphale would be able to together would be under the cover of darkness.) Then, they ran into Elspeth and the night took a turn. (Elspeth was also digging up bodies from graves, which is a parallel to zombies, hooking 1827 to 1941.) Dining at the Ritz-- literally going to The Ritz and eating together, which they do twice in S1-- is something Aziraphale would literally like to go do as a date as but it's also code in the 1967 scene for "perhaps, one day, we could finish 1941." He's telling Crowley in 1967 that he would still very much like to kiss him one day.
The near-kiss in 1941 would then also be what gives Aziraphale the motivation to eventually give Crowley the holy water in 1967. Back in 1863, Aziraphale didn't totally see that Crowley wanted holy water to protect them. By 1941, when they're staring at the corpse of a once-Zombie Nazi on the floor of the bookshop that Crowley just killed with the gun that's in his hands, it's a different sort of proof. 1941 becomes the era of 'here is proof that Crowley will literally kill to protect Aziraphale' and maybe it freaks Aziraphale out a little (as well as also turning him on a lot lol). Maybe that's why they spend the next years after that until the '60s together but not really together. Maybe that's why they don't have another chance at the kiss after 1941-- why they don't just try again-- because Aziraphale slows down a bit after it, afraid that Crowley could get hurt and that this is too dangerous, but he also understands now that Crowley is in love with him and when he hears in 1967 that Crowley is going after Holy Water, Aziraphale just gives him some, as a way of saying that he knows they're in love but this is impossible and they need to not pursue this in a way that will get them killed because he can't lose him.
A near-kiss in 1941 adds layers to 1967 Soho by adding an additional meaning of 'physical intimacy' to "dining at the Ritz". It adds even more weight to the end of S2 and the kiss and the "no nightingales" through to the Tori Amos angsty cover of "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" in The Bentley. There are other scenes (the end of S1 and others) that it touches as well, if indirectly, but maybe my favorite is this scene, which has already been given extra layers of meaning since The Blitz, Part 2 and The Bullet Catcher plot but lol now add in the idea that the rest of the story is that Crowley and Aziraphale were going to kiss and they were interrupted in the moment, shot at with at least one of them probably getting nicked, and then Crowley killed someone with The Bullet Catcher and tell me it doesn't make this already amazing sequence even more amazing:
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