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#someone needs to ask them at a con
deanfreakingwinchester · 10 months
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Do Misha & Jensen even know that the Destiel confession scene has basically become the most valuable news source on Tumblr?
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manofthepipis · 5 months
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I was rereading chapter 12 of system rebooting please standby and I found it just a little sweet that spamton was excited to see Kris (even tho it wasn’t them lol). tho he mostly was hoping for Kris to save his hide, I also think he was just happy to see his friend since he’s so lonely at that point
im rlly glad you liked that bit!! :D spamton will always have his more selfish motivations, and i've tried writing him so that if he ever does want/need something from someone else he goes into salesman mode, playing nice and innocent enough to get what he wants. But like they're his friend!! his buddy!! :D!! they're a puppet just like him and they helped to free him even if it was obvious he was up to no good in the first place! someone like that to return to him in his extreme loneliness and confusion would be a godsend, but he doesn't get those often. so whoops it had to be an addison lmao
I'd imagine if kris were to return, he'd be hanging around them and their friends to the point where it got annoying but only because he genuinely cares now and they've given him a new purpose in the world he's forever fated for. Though it would genuinely surprise me if he appeared again in canon (i think he's just gonna get the jevil treatment and be a quiet close-to-nonliving item in your inventory), but in this au hed be harder than hell to get rid of (akin to actual spam) hfjsksksk.
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samiferboy · 3 months
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i am not immune to the idea of s1-2 samifer
#avery.txt#young sam being so desperate and confused and distraught bc he thought he could escape this life but no. he couldn't#and here's this easy calm confident man who tells him it'll be alright bc he's strong and capable#sam keeps having nightmares but sometimes this man shows up and pushes them away and makes him feel at peace#not to be all freudian abt it but he never had this support from his father & now there's this handsome man encouraging and accepting him#so he feels Something. and it's fine because it's just this recurring dream right?#but then he finally is able to ask this dream man what/who he is and. he says he's an angel. who's been watching over sam since he was born#(this is a scenario where lucifer gets out of the cage 4 seasons early ig)#and sam finally feels SEEN. he finally feels like his faith has been worth it.#he throws caution to the wind. grabs his angel and kisses him. tells him he wants him even tho he knows its wrong.#and his angel is kinda taken aback. this was NOT where he saw this going/where he was trying to steer it. he didn't think sam would do THAT.#but he gives sam what he wants and oh. it's GOOD. sam dreams that he shows his angel all the love his angel has given him.#idk where this goes/what the endgame would be here but. i love young sam still grieving jess and searching for his dad or grieving for him#*being swept up by someone who gives him what he needs and cares about him unconditionally#and doesnt care that he ran away. that he doesnt obey. that he doesnt fit the mold. someone who loves these things about him.#i love them so much in every possible way <3 con or noncon <3 varying lvls of fucked up <3 love all of it
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nyctarian · 8 months
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fans of wrestler redacted having to hard pivot to claiming aew is as morally bad as anything wwe mcmahon bc their guy is willing to compromise his stated values if they will give him a job is so funny. like you cant be mad at people for believing aew is better morally than vince mcmahons big conservative fundraiser sponsored by mbs when your guy himself has made his reputation on making the point that wwe bad for nearly a decade now. their are bad people at aew too but it is not systemic to the entire company's existence at the highest levels the way it is in wwe.
also since people on twitter are trying to pretend he was a lone voice of trans rights and got forced out bc of that im also gonna note aew had a trans womens world champion when p*nk was still working for fox's wwe backstage.
#you cant send me anons on my blog bc i have had asks turned off for multiple years now die mad#personal#his elite beef was w a bernie bro a bisexual and two (yes christian) guys who support gay rights and dont support tr*mp like#sorry vince mcmahons still legally wed wife runs tr*mp fundraising#sorry that collision had nyla on once in the second ep for the owen and then literally never again#sorry that collision was the show made for c******e fans and it took ur guy being fired for a joshi wrestler to get on it#sorry ur guy praised zaslov before having to pivot to being the union guy bc kenny isnt online enough to have seen a video from a con lol#i believe he does try to be leftleaning but his overwhelming ideology is of the self not of the other sorry#what he was doing at the end those beliefs were only tshirt deep die mad#i could go further i like adding nuance and details to things but its pointless. i just hope the weirdos who harass people on here over#their favorite guy and who fail to realize that whatever shit they say on their blogs is the same shit twitter people are sayings#i hope they move on to something that actually brings them joy so that they dont need to harass people for having a different opinion#like sincerely if someone interacts w a post of mine or if i look at someones blog bc they posted a good wrestling thing#and i see a bunch of stuff i dont like for a wrestler i dont like#i just block and move on#i really hope they start doing that as someone who used to post on here a bunch several years ago about all the hatereading i would do#it genuinely is an unhealthy mindset and its something i had to work to grow out of i hope they do too
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whatudottu · 1 year
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Okay but can you just imagine Bot Experiment!Blitzwing’s reaction to encountering the Omega Sentinels for the first time 
Dude escapes from the laboratory he was being held captive at, offlining dozens of Autobot scientists in process, and thinks to himself “HA! That ought to get the Autobots to think twice about ever attempting to play God again in the future!”
And then a few stellar cycles later he sees these gigantic Autobots being unleashed onto the battlefield and just goes “are you fragging kidding me”
(Boy oh boy, just wait until he finds out about Project Safeguard)
Although Project Omega didn’t use already forged bots as ingredients to make the Omega Sentinels, it’s certainly a ‘let’s make cold constructed war machines that will not betray us good guy Autobots :)’ where some bot is gifted a control code (I can’t remember if Arcee was given it to her to control as her own or to deliver it like a carrier pigeon to keep its broadcast offline) that essentially enforces the ‘please fight for the Autobots custom made warframe’. Under the umbrella of ‘there are no flying Autobots’ what does that make the Omega Sentinels? Autobots making warframes for themselves and loading them with big powerful tech is certainly a memory that Blitzwing would Rather Not and will call bullshit upon seeing a flying tank on Autobot lines.
Introduce Project Safeguard to Blitzwing - especially with the mention of the use of Starscream’s Decepticon CNA - and let’s just say their new sons have to be gently introduced to their new brother Wasp without immediately arresting him.
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trenchcoatsbi · 7 months
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ERRGH IM SO MAD AT MYSELF I HAVENT BEEN TALKING TO MY KIDS AS MUCH AS I DID BEFORE BECAUSE IVE BEEN BUSY WITH OTHER THINGS BUT THEY SHOULD BE MY PRIORITYYYYY- IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE SHIT AND I WANT TO SCREAM >:[. IM NOT EVEN THAT BUSY, IM JUST GETTING TIRED MORE EASILY AND STAYING UP LATER TO GET SCHOOL WORK DONE AND I COULD ABSOLUTELY MAKE MORE TIME FOR THEMMM - im fuckingg PISSED AND SAD >:[[.
And i just need to WRAP THEM ALL UP IN FUCKKNG BLANKETS AND TELL THEM THAT ITS GOING TO BE OKAYYY i just need to be there for them and make aure theyre okay and its REAAAALLLYY messing me up that i cant be - like PHYSICALLY. Theres not even anything i can do about it either. I just want to comfort them - im a very physically affectionate person when it comes to family. I just :[. I had a whole ass night just the other day where i spent it trying not to have a breakdown cause i CANT BE THERE PHYSICALLY WITH THEM - im messin myself up a bit and i think i need to take a break from life for a bit pfff
[ official-big-q ]
RHAHGHGH THIS THS THIS!!! I get you sooo much uhhshfudhf raghgh its so homophobic that most of my sourcemates are entire states if not countries away!!! They should all be walking distance from my current location at all times because i want to make blanket forts with them… and give them snacks and maybe throw them around and bite them (affectionate)
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medicinemane · 2 months
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I'm once again saying that if someone on disability manages to save/invest money they shouldn't be punished for it
If someone's becoming a millionaire off $900 a month, they sound like a fucking brilliant person that should be rewarded
Are they disabled? Yes? Then just cut them their damn check
Bonus opinion, I don't give a fuck if someone buys them groceries or lets them live somewhere rent free. They shouldn't lose a portion of their disability just cause someone's not being horrible to them
Are they disabled? Yes? THEN JUST CUT THEM THEIR DAMN CHECK
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shyshyshyshy0 · 5 months
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i wish there was a way for me to find like. specifically furs in my state 😓. i want to go to ANE but i dont want to go alone shiiiit
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litt1e-prince · 5 months
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shut up i have thoughts on my boyfriend i must share. n e way! he kissed me the other day and i was kicking my legs and he called me cute thats all thank you.
#i was also jumping to stim while he made breakfast and i made his tea#and he copied me to mock me and i was like WELL. OKAY NVM THEN FUCK YOU#and he went ‘someones excited’#and then i fucked up his tea. i left the tea bag in too long and it looked like coffee and his housemates were talking about it and he#pointed to me and was like ‘yeah the teabag was left in too long.’#I DIDNT KNOOOW! IM STUPID#n e way. i told him his pancakes sucked and then we watched a movie together holding hands#theres lots of inbetween bits there but im not including them because i cant b asked#i was venting in the team room about my horrible shift yesterday and i fell very dramaticslly to the ground (dropped if u will) and he#started laughing and my other friend bursted into laughter and went ‘i love the drama kid performance’#my shift yesterday was so bad - i was working in 3 different areas! i was only suppose to be#i was meant to be on retail but i worked gsp retail AND costa#and when i went to get a drink (i needed it from carrying that building) my manager yelled at me#so i snapped - and then i was put on retail AND I HAD NOTHING. there was no cheese no wine no hotdogs no sweet popcorn no cash#no bitches no fun no time no life no will to live#i kept snapping at my mangers until i yelled ‘can i just have an extra hand on retial please?!’#and then when the queue went down i ran into the team room - my bf followed#and then i was like ‘wheres monse???? go get monse???’ and she so he gets her and i rant to both of them#and then i give con a kiss on the forehead and then i give monse one too so that she doesnt feel left out#and then i asked him to buy me food and he did and he brought me 2 snacks also
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inhonoredglory · 9 months
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Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality
Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.
I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.
Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,
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We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.
I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.
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Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)
That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.
Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.
But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.
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And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.
I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)
But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.
Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).
Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.
(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)
At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.
“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.
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Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.
Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.
But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.
Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)
Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.
Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”
____
In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.
Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.
Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.
And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.
And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.
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owlispls · 11 months
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Sometimes someone says something and you just feel it with your whole ass.
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arachine · 7 months
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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)
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── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst
── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.
or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.
── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot
── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(
songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way
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After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.
Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 
When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 
You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 
“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 
There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 
“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”
Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.
“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”
Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”
“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 
“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 
Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 
You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 
“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”
Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 
“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”
“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 
The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 
A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”
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It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 
Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 
You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 
“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 
The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 
“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”
Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”
“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 
Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 
“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 
“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 
“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’
Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 
“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 
Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 
“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.
“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.
“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.
“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”
The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.
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“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 
“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 
“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”
Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 
Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.
“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 
“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”
“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 
“You tried any dating apps?” 
It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”
“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 
“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”
“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 
The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”
“Never.”
There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 
“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”
“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”
“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”
For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 
The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 
“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 
“Right…” 
The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 
Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 
“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”
The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 
about 8 years ago . . .
“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 
“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 
“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 
“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.
“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 
“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”
You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.
“You still there?” 
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 
“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”
“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”
Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”
“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.
“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.
By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.
“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  
Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 
You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 
“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”
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The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 
“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 
Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 
Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 
Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 
It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 
Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 
As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 
The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 
Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.
You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)
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Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.
Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 
You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.
You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?
The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 
Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 
Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?
You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 
You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 
You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 
You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)
Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 
Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…
Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 
Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 
His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 
You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 
You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?
Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 
Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 
The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.
You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.
Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)
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The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.
You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 
In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 
You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 
Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 
“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 
When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.
Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 
“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 
“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.
“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 
Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 
It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 
The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 
“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 
You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”
“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 
“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 
“Come in, hon!” 
After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 
“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 
“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 
Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 
“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”
“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 
Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 
“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 
“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 
“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 
“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 
“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 
“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 
“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 
“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.
“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 
“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 
“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 
“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 
“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”
You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 
You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 
And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 
You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 
“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 
Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 
You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 
“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 
“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 
“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”
Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 
“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 
You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 
“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 
“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 
“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 
Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 
When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 
Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 
He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 
Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.
Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 
Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 
Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 
Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 
In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 
Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 
And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 
“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”
“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 
Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 
He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 
“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”
With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 
“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 
By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 
“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 
Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 
“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”
Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 
“What?”
“Let me take you to dinner.” 
You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 
“Wait, what?” 
“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 
“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 
“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 
Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 
Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 
The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”
He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 
“I don’t know…” you trail. 
“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”
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Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 
Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 
“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 
“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 
“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 
Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 
“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 
“Those kids, man.”
“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.
“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 
When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 
You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 
This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 
There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 
Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 
“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 
Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 
“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”
“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”
“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 
“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 
The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 
Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 
Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 
The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 
“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.
“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.
“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 
Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 
“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 
“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 
“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 
“Gojo.”
Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 
The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 
“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”
“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 
While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 
If I ever leave you, baby
You can say I told you so
And if I ever hurt you
You know, I hurt myself…
Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 
You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 
“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 
Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 
When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 
Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 
You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 
Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 
Is that any way for a man to carry on
Do you think I want my loved one gone
Said I love you
More than you’ll ever know
More than you’ll ever know
“So funny,” you counter. 
Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 
Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 
“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 
“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 
“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 
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Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 
“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 
“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–
“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 
“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 
“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 
The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 
[...] I don’t even know how to love you
Just the way you want me to
But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 
To fall in love 
To fall in love
To fall in love with you…
“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 
“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”
Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 
“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”
Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 
I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)
At a moment like this
But I’m going to learn how to do 
All the things you want me to
Yes, I’m ready
(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready
To fall in love
To fall in love
To fall in love right now
“Yes.”
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The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 
The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 
Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 
There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 
Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 
Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 
The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–
“Jump.” 
Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 
Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 
“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 
“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 
“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 
Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 
“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”
“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?
“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 
With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 
Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 
Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 
The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 
“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 
You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 
Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 
For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?
“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 
“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 
You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 
“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”
“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 
“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 
Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 
He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 
But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.
“They suit you,” you whisper. 
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, “mhm.” 
Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 
Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 
God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 
As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 
Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 
The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 
Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 
“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 
Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 
Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 
“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 
The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 
Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 
Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 
“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 
“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 
Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 
“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 
Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 
Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 
Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 
By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”
Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 
Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 
Soon, that silence is broken. 
“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 
“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 
“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”
“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”
“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”
That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 
“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 
“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 
“Shit!” 
Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 
“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 
Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.
“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 
Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.
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comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!
© arachine 2023
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evilminji · 4 months
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You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?
Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.
Wouldn't you want to share it?
There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.
And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.
People hear about it.
Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.
But like?
Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.
Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.
Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.
It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.
So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*
So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-
YES!
Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-
Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.
Wasn't much of a question, was it?
So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?
You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.
Or BAD ones.
He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.
Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.
And nerdy.
Very, very nerdy.
But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.
Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.
Just feed me, kid.
Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"
..............how magic?
(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)
@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe
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ncteez · 9 months
Text
Drippin’ [Dream ‘00 line] 
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“It's too late to run away, you started this game first.”
It was a joke, you swear. Sharing something like that with your group of horny man-friends was definitely a recipe for disaster. That one little tweet sets off a string of events that prevents you from pretending that you wouldn’t fuck your friends. Because you would, and they know it.  or the one where you’re considered a tease with the shit you share privately online, and they’re just about fed up with the way you act innocent and uninterested in what they’re packing.  ― this fic is based around this tweet.
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give ‘00 line a boner. 
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 16.2k 
PAIRING― ‘00 line x afab reader
CONTENT― birthday sex, orgy (?), comedy, use of a camera
WARNING ― mild dub-con, jaemin kinda fruity, full bladder/squirting ―this fic is not entirely inclusive like my others because it’s written for someone specific. reader can be lifted up by the members, when she blushes it is visible to them but colors still aren’t used to describe it, she has huge tits too. don’t like it, don’t read it. 
NOTE―  this is my birthday gift to @neopuppy! I hope it scratches somewhere in your brain but I also hope this means you’re aware of how much I love and appreciate you!! I am happy to have met you and i just need you to know that you’re definitely stuck with me at this point ♡ so, happy birthday to jeno’s real life gf!!! he’s a lucky dude fr. ― not proof read tho lmao
smut tags under cut:: 
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smut tags :: pussy eating, eager haechan, neglected renjun, confident jeno, (un)solicited dick pics, huge cock jeno and renjun, recording of sexual acts, masturbation, tongue fucking, dirty talk, finger fucking, overstimulation, tit fondling, actual fucking, (forced) full bladder, squirting, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, cum stuffing, cum dump reader, bunch of horny guys + one competitive horny guy 
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~
Scrolling on twitter is a normal part of your night especially when you’re bored. Your birthday is coming up and there’s not really anything planned. Aside from the spamming of messages from family and friends demanding to know what you want, or what you’d like to do, it feels like it’s just going to be a normal day rather than a celebration of your life.
No plans. You kind of just want to enjoy the day alone, relaxing, watching stupid videos, and maybe going for a coffee. 
Unknowing to you though, your future plan is slightly skewed when you run across a specific tweet. You share it as a joke, just like any other thing you’ve shared. Straight into the circle it goes, side eye emoji and all as if to imply something yet again, because you’re good at that apparently. Teasing, as Haechan would call it. 
To you, retweeting it with the side-eye emoji directly into the circle is normal and not asking for it to be considered by your friends. As much as you’d love to lie to yourself and believe that they’re down to earth, they’re really really not.
It’s not like you actively want to fuck your friends, but it’s also not like you wouldn’t. With all of the sexuality you all share online, it’s kind of difficult to not think about them inappropriately on some days. There was once a tweet that Jeno shared with absolutely no context involving some manga panel drawing of a man on a leash with his cute, unassuming girl standing in front of him. 
You hate to say that sometimes the images they share makes you think pretty hard. Learning their kinks, their sexual interests, and wondering if they’ve ever gotten to actually partake in them before. It’s a strange kind of feeling to think about your friends when these types of images pop up. The feeling is definitely arousal, but it’s kind of like a guilty arousal? 
After all, your friends may be constantly sharing their sex lives and blatantly liking all of the porn on twitter that they get off to, but it doesn’t mean they’d want to get you off. 
The funniest part about it is that you truly do view the circle tweets far differently compared to your group of friends. You, thinking they share stuff to show off, to be funny, or just to be a typical horny man. Then you have your friends and how they view it. 
Some of the tweets are intentionally for you to see, for you to get off to. Some are blatantly shared in the heat of the moment as one of them imagines you performing in the content. It’s a game to them really, to see which one will break you first. They love it for the most part, how you pretend you don’t notice. How you play dumb, even when they’re sharing images and videos of two people that could resemble you and said friend if you squint. It’s been this way for years. 
The entire friend group has spoken about you in their own group chat before. They’ve fantasized together about you through text and they’ve even discussed how there’s no way you don’t know what they’re doing. Time and time again you prove them wrong. So fucking aloof even when one of them blatantly makes a suggestion straight to your face. 
Jokes can only be funny for so long before it starts to be serious. 
To Jeno, it’s flooring to see you just a day after you liked one of his nastiest tweets, knowing you saw it, you probably watched the video too all while parading around like it didn’t get you wet or something. For Renjun, he finds it cute that you’re so different online. He almost feels lucky to be able to see that side of you. 
Haechan and Jaemin are the two in the group who will blatantly try to fluster you face to face. You both love and hate it, because sometimes you can’t tell if they’re being serious or not with you. The constant sarcastic and cocky smirks tend to make you lean more towards the fact that they must be joking. 
Either way, that tweet is nothing more than a funny joke to you. Since it was referring to a birthday it really is probably a crime to like, not share it. So, you did. 
Haechan was the first to read it, instantly screenshotting it and sending it in the secret group chat with a question mark. 
Haechan: ??
Haechan: she’s doing it again 
Jeno: she’s too dumb to actually follow through with it though
Jaemin: me first :)
Haechan: shut the fuck up jaemin
Renjun: it’s just a meme 
Haechan: a meme about eating her out for her birthday
Haechan: that she specifically shared to her circle
Haechan: with. the. eyeball. emoji. 
Jeno: he’s got a point. 
Renjun: well
Jaemin: it would be rude if she declined a birthday gift too y’know 
Haechan: do you guys think she would let us?
Renjun: um
Jeno: at some point she’s gonna have to learn that sharing all of this stuff with us is going to end in her getting fucked. 
Haechan: yeah, by me specifically
Jeno: you’d be lucky if she even thought of you when she shared that tweet
Haechan: It's gonna be so funny when you hear her moan my name, you gonna get mad?
Jeno: fuck around and find out.
Jaemin: really though
Jaemin: we should just go for it this time…….
Jaemin: bet she would love it
Renjun: lol…count me in too 
~
The last thing you expected to be waking up to on your birthday was a fucking birthday party. 
You wake to the sound of your front door opening, frantic footsteps, and then your bedroom door swinging open. Before you can even scream out of the assumption that it’s a fucking break in, Haechan is quite literally pouncing on you, shoving his face into the crook of your neck with muffled words of “wake up, baby.” 
You’re definitely awake. 
“How the fuck did you guys get into my house?!” You shout with a raspy, sleep filled voice, trying to focus on the four faces staring back at you and landing a glare at Renjun specifically, standing meekly at your bedroom door. 
He shoots an uncharacteristic smirk at you before raising his keys and dangling them at you. Of course you forgot that he had a key. He’s the only person outside of your family who has a key and it was strictly from when he helped you move in. You forgot to get it back from him all those years ago.
“Might want to change your locks.” Haechan laughs against your neck, lying his body weight against you. 
“What time is it?” You say, relieved now that your place isn’t being broken into, but still trying to shove Haechan off of you. 
He fights to stay in place, grabbing you in a bear hug, holding your arms down at your side, and not letting you go. 
“It’s noon.” Jeno calls out from the other side of your room in a nonchalant voice, letting his eyes search around before he opens one of your drawers. “What’s in here?”
You, again, try to shake Haechan from you as you go into panic mode. What kind of joke is this? Fucking room raiders? 
“Stop looking through my stuff!” You shout, glaring at Jeno, who definitely goes through your drawers now that he knows you have something to hide. 
“Haechan, hold her down,” Jeno laughs, opening another drawer, and then another, before coming to your bedside and looking at you. “What’s in this one?”
Actual panic now.
Before you can even get the words out, Jeno is opening the drawer and letting out a breathy chuckle. 
“Guys, look.” He laughs, glancing over at you before pulling one of the toys out. “You get off with this?” 
Jaemin comes over, looking into the drawer with two other toys that Jeno hasn’t yet pulled from their place. Renjun continues to watch, or stalk, really. 
“Did you wash them?” Jeno asks, waving the dildo in front of your face before bopping you on the nose with it. 
“Of course I fucking washed them!” You continue to glare, feeling Haechan squeeze you tighter to prevent you from moving. 
“Shame,” Haechan laughs at you, and then he very slowly lightens his grip on you. “Wanted to know what you smell like.” He says in a single breath, looking between you and the dildo, in deep thought. You stare at him before taking advantage of his loosening grip and rolling him off of you in one swift motion. 
You ignore the “oomf” sound Haechan makes when his head hits your headboard, and instantly rip the dildo from Jeno’s hands before throwing it back into the drawer and nearly slamming Jaemin’s fingers shut in it. 
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” You narrow your eyes as you look at each of them. You feel annoyed, and quite frankly, a little pissed because this is kind of crossing a line you didn’t even know you had. 
“It’s your birthday,” Renjun smiles, moving himself from the door and finally coming into your room. “You’re not seriously planning to just, like, stay home all day are you?”
“Yeah, actually. I am.” You grouch, rolling your eyes as you sit up and against your headboard with crossed arms. 
“That’s too bad, we’ve got a whole day planned for you.” Jeno says, seating himself next to you and softening his voice. “So get up and go get dressed.” 
If it weren’t for the fact that all four men are practically holding you hostage right now, you’d kick them out and enjoy your birthday as you planned it. Why is this year so fucking different? Why are they all over you like this? Poking fun at your toys, Haechan being weird and gross about it? 
As you get dressed, they make it incredibly obvious that there’s a shift in the air. You feel like prey, four pairs of eyes struggling to allow you to dress yourself without them in the room. You do eventually get them out though, so you can at least do as they say. 
When you open the door for them again, they’re all right there. Jeno, front and fucking center with his dopey smile that seems more menacing today than the usual, soft smile. 
You feel cornered in your own home, by the only people you trust, and you hate to say that it’s kind of getting to you in an uncomfortable way. It’s surprising to admit that you kind of like the uncomfortable feeling they’re giving to you right now.
The sheer amount of attention on you is overwhelming, and you wonder when they’ll let you in on this joke. 
~
The second you step into Jeno’s car, then tension dies down a little bit and the excitement rises. You haven’t done anything for your birthday in years so it’s kind of nice to think that your friends would plan something for you, and not being alone in your apartment with them solidified that they’re not about to eat you alive with a side of A1 steak sauce like you originally thought. 
As the drive starts and continues, you think about the dynamic between you and your friends. From how you met to how you became the group you are now. You realize that for the past few years, most interactions with them have felt more intense than they used to. Still, you’re a believer that women can be friends with men without the weird sexual tension ruining it. 
Until you keep thinking. Piling up all of the sexual jokes and implications they’ve made at you up until this morning.
One time, Jaemin took a photo with you, sent it in the group chat and said “she’s giving out blowjobs for $5 if anyone wants one.” and you’d be lying if you didn’t receive three cash app notifications of five dollars. 
Another time Jeno blatantly gave you a popsicle and told you to show him how deep you can take it in your mouth before laughing and shoving the popsicle deeper when you reached your limit. And god, don’t even get started on Haechan, that motherfucker has blatantly adjusted his length in front of you after staring at your chest for an entire conversation. 
Renjun is another story. The shy one who does a shit job at hiding that he absolutely has whore thoughts. You see it. That $5 donation for a blowjob didn’t go unnoticed, nor did his approval of you accidentally liking one of the porn videos deep in his retweets.
Still, you prefer to think that you wave off the jokes face to face despite how difficult it’s become to dodge said jokes. 
You turn to look at Jeno for a moment, noting his calm face as he drives, then you turn slightly to see the three in the back seat on their phones. Jeno’s phone is buzzing at lightning speed, and the boys in the back are typing miles per minute. 
You narrow your eyes. 
“What are you guys planning?” 
Jeno flashes a smile at you. 
“It’s a surprise, don’t try and ruin it for yourself.” He smiles wider at the implication that you really do always ruin this type of thing by pretending you don’t want it. That you don’t want him. 
You continue to glare at them, one at a time, and each of them just beams at you before you cross your arms and slump yourself back against the seat. 
“Better not be anything weird.” You grumble. 
“Define weird.” Jeno comments before moving his hand from the steering wheel and lying it against your leg. When you stiffen up against him, he rubs a gentle circle against the flesh of your thigh before continuing. “Relax, we already know you’re a freak.”
You whip your head around at the laughter, feeling flustered at how they’re not keeping the circle in the circle. Except, they are. It’s just being voiced now, and your leg is being caressed at the same damn time. 
“My favorite was when she shared that video of the girl getting her head pulled back by the hair, and dude spit in her face,” Jaemin says with a shrug, eyes still glued to his phone. “Went straight to the bookmarks.” 
You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and when you go to protest, Haechan jumps in. 
“What about the video where the girl took it in every hole? She even had a dildo because apparently she just wasn’t full enough.” He ticks his tongue when he says it, examining the way you shift in your seat. 
“Oh god, I remember that one. I didn’t think you’d be into that–” Renjun laughs, leaning forward between the front and passenger seat. “But you are into that, aren’t you?” He lowers his voice when he asks you.
You shift again, and note only slightly the way Jeno also shifts similar to the way you do at those words. 
“It’s just a video–” You try to defend, but Jeno speaks up and cuts you off.
“Did you get off to it?” He asks blatantly, turning the car onto a wide street and seemingly keeping his eyes on the road. 
There’s nothing but silence in the car and all four of them wait for your answer, but it never comes. 
“So you did.” Renjun chuckles, leaning himself back to the seat and unlocking his phone again. 
You’re kind of at a loss for words at this moment as you stare directly out of your window and try to avoid continuing the conversation. You hate the way your body is reacting to the way they’re talking to you. Of course you got off to the video. Of course you’re into that. It just looks bad when you’re sitting in a car full of men with cocks that seemingly want to talk about how much you’re into it. 
Implications. 
And god, the implication gets worse when you realize where Jeno has been driving this whole time. You can’t even protest either.
“Let’s get our girl some better toys to have fun with.” Jeno comments as he stops the car in the parking lot, turning to look at you and then at his friends as if this is the most normal birthday outing in the world. 
“Your girl?” You ask, side eyeing Jeno and then turning your entire body to look at the other three men in the car.
Suddenly, it feels like an intro to some porn video. Where the poor lonely woman is being eaten alive with eyes in a public space before it pans to her quite literally drowning in a bukakke scene. 
“Just for today, relax.” Jaemin smiles his stupid smile, shoving Haechan at the door of the car as if to force him to open it, and he does. “Besides, the toys you had seemed boring.” He laughs again, before sliding out of the car as well.
So, here you are now, walking into an adult store with four very attractive men, unsure as to why you’re even agreeing to let them bring you here. You don’t know what to do with yourself seeing as you’ve only ever bought toys online. 
 Jeno is the first to drag you away with him as the others disperse around the store. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel awkward, or like today isn’t entirely charged by sexual energy. Unfortunately, Jeno amplifies it with a casual voice and a slouched, relaxed posture as he snakes an arm around your waist and lifts your chin with his thumb so that you look directly at what he’s looking at. 
He barely lets you react to the way he’s being somewhat intimate with you, ushering any protest you could possibly have into a little insecure space in your brain. One that tells you that, based on how he’s acting, he would probably call you stupid if you said he was acting weird. 
Jeno knows damn well though, that he’s touching you right now more than he ever has. Brief hugs and brushes of the body are normal and expected, but this? This is intentionally not normal. He knows you’re picking up on the differences, and actively chooses to let you stew over it. He can see the confusion in your eyes and plays it off as if, yeah, this is normal and you’d make it weird if you decided to say it’s not. You’d be the one making it awkward, not him. 
“How do you feel about that?” He asks, eyes staring straight at an item hanging on the wall and pretending he doesn’t feel the way you let him touch you in the way a boyfriend should. 
“What? The vibrating panties?” You ask, looking at the item directly next to it. 
“Oh,” He chuckles at you, releasing your chin and pulling down the product with ease. “You’re looking at these?” He adds, keeping his other arm around your waist and pulling you right up against his side as he flips the box over and reads it. 
“Eight settings. Three pairs of panties are included–” He nods with a pleased face. “What are you looking at these for?”
You looked at them because it’s what you thought he was looking at too. 
“You gonna wear them to work? Staying wet all day in them?” He smiles, saying these words as if it’s not sexual at all. “I bet you’d wear them in front of me too. Wouldn’t even tell me how you’re getting off, would you?”
He loves the way you react when you’re flustered, looking away from him but not quite denying it or pulling from his grasp. 
“Dirty. I’ll buy them for you. ” He says, keeping hold of the box and reaching for the actual item he was originally looking at. “What about this?” 
You feel like your body is on fire with this one sided conversation. Honestly, your mind is still thinking about what would happen if you wore these panties to work. What would happen if you did wear them when hanging out with him? Surely he’d know, it’s not like you’re capable of hiding your pleasure. 
Still, you try to remain calm. Rubbing your legs together briefly, you stare at the way he tangles a leash in his fingers all while still holding the box with the vibrating panties. His hands are big, and his fingers are long. The material of the leash appears to be flimsy but the collar he grabs just next to it appears to be much stiffer. 
“A leash?” You ask, still not making eye contact but keeping your eyes on his hand and the way he holds all three items with ease.
“And a collar.” He adds, encouraging you to think about both items together, being used with him. 
“What am I supposed to do with that?” 
Jeno smirks, knowing damn well you know what he’s into. 
“You know exactly what you’re supposed to do with it.” He teases you, keeping hold of the toys and letting his eyes devour the way you buckle under every implication. He tunes in to the way your legs rub together, right here in front of him. God, you’re so cute with the way even the slightest implication seems to have you suffering. 
In your head, you do know what to do with these items for him, but the confirmation of Jeno’s words have reality hitting you like a bag of bricks. Is he really implying that these toys are to be used with him? 
And just as you try to mutter up a response, you can feel your arm being tugged at.
“Stop hogging her, dick.” Jaemin seethes through his teeth and narrowed eyes at Jeno, prying you away from him.
You look back at Jeno and his confident glare at you as you’re being pulled away. He seems slightly annoyed with Jaemin for taking you away just as the conversation was getting good but, overall proud of himself for making you think too hard. You practically see the confirmation in his hooded eyes when they trail down your body as you’re being pulled around the corner, up until he’s out of your view and you are forced to look at whatever the fuck Jaemin is trying to show you. 
“Look at this.” Jaemin says in a much sweeter voice to you, grabbing a box and presenting it to you. “There’s a sample thing too, hold on–” He continues, reaching up and grabbing the presumed sample that states “FINGERS ONLY.”
“Go on, try it.” He smiles, eyes staring straight at your hands. 
“You want me to test out a uh–”
“Pocket pussy.” He finishes for you, nodding his head and encouraging you to do it. 
Reluctantly you do, sliding your fingers into the silicone hole. Weirdly enough, you’ve always wondered what the inside of a pocket pussy felt like and well, it’s about what you expected. 
Jaemin’s intense eye contact on watching your fingers slide into that toy did not go unnoticed though. You can see the way they darken at the act in an instant. A once bright looking pervert now matching the word far too much to be comfortable doing this in front of him. If only you knew how he was imagining that this is how you touch yourself. Reluctantly at first and then sliding your fingers in deeper to feel everything it offers. 
“Well?” He asks, feeling his length twitch in his pants at the image. Wondering how much prettier your fingers would look glistening in the arousal that would spill out of you while doing this. “Do you think yours feels better?”
“Wha–” You go to ask, pulling your fingers from the sample and shoving it back into his hands. 
“You heard me,” He laughs as he drops the sample onto the floor and quickly picks it up before tossing it back onto the wrong shelf like an asshole. “Compare it. Give me something to work with here.” 
You dead-pan stare at him, processing the fact that he’s literally asking you what your pussy feels like.
“It’s, um–” You stop yourself again, not avoiding Jaemin’s eye contact this time as his smile fades into something a bit more serious. 
“Not as warm, right?” He asks, “not as wet?” 
Then he leans in to the point that you feel his breath below your ear, blowing gently as he continues his string of questions. 
“Not as tight–” He pulls back to look at you. “Hm?”
It’s insane how fast your little friend group seems to have switched on you. When you compare yesterday to today, the last thing you could imagine was Jaemin saying such a thing against your skin before pulling back, and looking at you with a face that seems to expect a genuine answer to his dirty questions. 
You’ve never felt so….shy before yet, into it entirely. You just don’t know how to process it all happening at once, with multiple people. Jeno, now Jaemin? 
You stare forward at him, cheeks warming up beyond belief as your fingers tingle from the recent silicone hole they fucked into. You think hard for a moment about all of the times you’ve plunged your fingers into yourself, comparing the feeling to the toy. You almost want to tell him that you’re definitely warmer, you’d definitely be wetter, and perhaps even tighter than that toy could ever offer him. 
And just as you were about to become the pick me girl of his dreams, an angel wearing a dick-head costume (Haechan), appears much like Jaemin did before. He prevents you from furthering the conversation, but he does little to nothing to help the warmth you’re feeling between your legs. 
“Stop being a freak,” Haechan stares at Jaemin, having heard the entire conversation and definitely liking where it was going, but also not wanting Jaemin to be the one to get you to break. “Come on, I have something a lot less weird to show you.”
Haechan drags you across the entire store before you can even protest, nearing the entrance. You almost want to get on your knees and thank him, assuming he’s walking you straight out the doors to safety before you realize he’s definitely not. 
“Lace or latex?” He asks, grabbing two skimpy outfits he presumably placed on the end of a rack for easy finding when he wanted to show you. 
“Lace.” You say without issue, still reeling from all of the other questions you’ve been asked within the past twenty minutes. Plus, clothing is much easier to discuss compared to things that fuck your friends, and things that fuck you. 
“Hm,” He stares down the lace outfit on the hanger, knowing for a fact that your tits would look fucking immaculate in it. Surely they’d be bulging out of the top, plush and bouncing with each movement. “If we got this for you, would you actually wear it?”
At this point, the feeling in your gut may or may not be matching the energy they’re giving you. There’s a hint of flirtiness coming to your mind now as you think of how to respond. You’ve flirted with them plenty, so it comes easy this time when you manage to actually answer him. 
“I guess,” You start, noting how his eyes light up. “I don’t see why not, because I do like lace.”
“Would you wear it for me though?” He corrects his question, proud of the way you look a bit confident now, not at all as flustered as you seemed when Jaemin had you back there finger fucking a sample toy.
“In front of you?” You ask, staring down the outfit and reaching out to feel the soft texture of the lace, trying to ignore the hefty price on the tag. 
“Yeah? I expect to be the one to take it off of you.” 
There goes your confidence. He’s so forward and you’re not sure if you can ever get used to such jarring comments toward you by the people you seem to be the closest to. They could talk to you like this all fucking day, and while you’d like it, your first instinct is to buckle, to hide. 
“So quiet now. Why? Because I want to see you in this?” He smirks, rubbing his fingers in circles against the lace before hardening his expression. 
“You can pretend that this isn’t happening all you want,” He narrows his eyes at you and the way you avoid his eye contact, taking a step forward and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think you’ve gotten your fair share of teasing me online. I think it’s time you finally give it up.” He finishes his train of thought with a frustrated whisper when you pull away from him slightly. 
It’s a lot of information to take in all at once. Jeno implying things, Jaemin asking about what’s between your legs, and now Haechan stating that he wants to see you in lace before sliding it off of you. It’s not entirely insane to be drawn in and then push yourself back. Really, it’s not. You can’t just let them in on the fact that you’re into it though. All of this, you’re so fucking into it.
“You thought I was teasing you?” You ask, finally making eye contact as you look him up and down, taking another step back. “Haechan, it’s just porn. None of it was because of you.”
He tics his tongue at your words, smirking and shaking his head. 
“You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t think about it?” He tilts his head knowingly before shaking the lace outfit in front of you. “If we leave here today with this, you’re going to wear it for me.” he continues with a cheeky voice, “and i’ll make you feel so good when I take it off of you.”
And for some reason, you find yourself turning away from him and walking away. You can hear him mutter something at you as you create a bigger distance, and can’t help the smile on your face. Your cheeks are tingling, your body is tingling and there’s a type of confirmation happening right now, that all of those thoughts you’ve had about them before aren’t entirely one sided. 
You find yourself in search of Renjun, the only normal motherfucker in this group. He hasn’t hunted you down within the aisles of toys, sex movies, or lube. He hasn’t pulled you away as if he’s a savior before forcing you to realize you fell into the grasp of another hunter. No, he’s normal. And he fills that role so well too, as you find him near the back of the store standing alone, looking at the most mundane and boring sex toys in the world. Dildos, just like what he saw being pulled out of your drawer this morning. 
“Do you think this one is a good size?” He asks you offhandedly as you stand next to him with a sigh of relief. Almost like he could sense it was you without even checking for himself.
“Yeah, it’s a little big but–” You go to say, comfortably and confidently because he’s not being a weirdo.
“Have you ever taken something this big before?” He looks at you, glancing down to your thighs before smiling. 
“Um, well-” You start, but he interrupts you again. 
“It’s the same size as mine, you know.” 
Anyway, fuck Renjun. 
He’s just like the rest of them, except apparently he doesn’t hunt. He prefers to be hunted himself, he prefers you come to him. A wolf in sheep's clothing, perhaps. 
The sexual innuendos and jokes are a bit overwhelming considering you’ve never been fucking attacked with them before. You really can’t lie to yourself though. As much as you pretend to be unnerved, you love the attention they’re giving you. Years worth of sexual things shared online seems to be making today feel like it was going to happen now or never. All of those stray thoughts you’ve had about each of them as you watched their shared porn and read their dirty words? They’re in the front of your mind right now.
Perhaps staying home all day today was a bad idea, because you find yourself genuinely enjoying the overwhelming tension in the air. You’re quite literally in a sex shop surrounded by friends who are implying they want sex from you. 
Even if it’s all just a prank-birthday thing. You know, like how friends get each other dildos and sex merchandise for a laugh. You can’t help but stare down the bulk of items all four of them begin to pile onto the counter. 
The vibrating panties, leashes, collars, lingerie, dildos, more vibrators, and lube. Not a single condom in sight, not a single pocket pussy either, implying that it can't be purchased because, well, you very well may be the pocket pussy. 
The price goes from fifty dollars to a sum of over six hundred, and none other than Jeno himself pulls out his wallet and slides his card into the machine. Signing his name on the device smoothly, almost prettily, before watching the cashier bag each item carefully and curiously.
You hate to say how attractive it is to see Jeno pay for things specifically meant to be used behind a locked door. He’s paid for your coffee plenty of times, but the act right now is seriously just so…..cocky? With the way his posture is perfect, his confidence is exuding when he presses the buttons, god. Is it the money or is it him doing this to your mind? 
You can’t make eye contact with the woman bagging your gifts, and for some reason find yourself reluctantly making that eye contact with Jeno instead. He gives you that droopy eyed smile, the one he usually gives on a normal, non-sex-fueled day to something endearing you said. Like he didn’t just drop hundreds on things to fuck yourself with, or wear while being fucked. He can tell you’re thanking him though, appreciating him. 
After leaving the store, four big bags being carried by four men, you realize that it’s really not a joke this time. There’s a clock in your head counting down to where Jeno will drive all of you to next. 
“Why’re you being so quiet?” Haechan pokes you from the back seat, pulling some of your hair and forcing your head back against the headrest. 
“What the fuck?” You ask in a panic, turning your entire body to look behind you at him. You can tell he can see the way that little tug had you release a hint of a moan before you started asking him the question so aggressively.  “I’m just enjoying the drive, what? I can’t have a moment of silence to myself?” 
You ignore the chuckle coming from Jeno, driving smoothly and keeping his eyes on the road. Then you glance at Jaemin, who is looking at you much the same way Haechan is. 
“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Renjun asks, leaning up to the center console again. “You’ve been acting kind of weird all day.”
“I’ve been acting weird?!” You huff. The audacity he has to say that you’re the one being weird. 
“You’re just trying to pretend that we don’t want to fuck you like always.” Haechan blurts out while rolling his eyes before Jaemin elbows him in the side. 
You stare at them wide eyed as Renjun slowly leans himself back defensively, as far into the seat as possible. 
“Relax, you act like you weren’t picking up on the hints,” Jeno glances at you as he pulls into another lot. “Secrets out now though.” He shrugs, searching for a parking space. 
“We weren’t even trying to make it a secret, damn.” Haechan rolls his eyes again. “She just likes to play dumb.”
“Or maybe she’s actually dumb.” Jaemin plays off of Haechan’s words.
“Were you guys not planning on letting me have any say in this?!” You ask, voice raised a bit from feeling incredibly flustered. 
“What, you don’t want to?” Jaemin asks, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to search for a hint of a lie when you answer.
“I–” You stop yourself. 
Any normal person would say no, right? Or would a normal person absolutely be down for this? Are you even a normal person? 
“Hm?” Jeno encourages you to finish what you were about to say as he parks and turns off the car. “You don’t want it?” He continues, glancing down and between his legs as if to imply he’s talking more about himself than the group. 
Your eyes follow his and you struggle to swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your eyes to the building that this parking lot belongs to. The fucking mall? 
“I don’t know what you guys are wanting me to say but, this is all a bit too much.” 
The three in the back nod happily at your half-assed rejection, messy hair waving with each nod, and then you look at Jeno as he responds. 
“With all things considered, we know you like it when things are ‘a bit too much’.” He says to you, shutting down any form of rejection you could possibly give. 
You stare at him as he unbuckles and opens the door to get out of the car. Your body is tingling just a little bit at his words. Goddamn that fucking tweet. Goddamn those fucking twitter circles. Goddamn you for having a bunch of horny burn out friends who suddenly feel the need to jump at the opportunity to fuck you that you would have given ages ago had they tried. 
“Always acting like you don’t want it, it’s kind of cute, you know?” Haechan says, pulling himself out of the car now. Jaemin continues his string of thoughts as he gets out of the car after him, “and fucking annoying.” 
There goes any ounce of self respect you could imagine having. Your brain is flooding with everything they said to you in the sex shop and, well, you’re well aware that it’s about to be a birthday to remember.
~
Walking through the mall with your friends should be normal, and it is. But the air is different now, knowing now a hint of the plans they seem to have for your birthday. If they hadn't said all of that in the car, surely you’d know now what the plan was. 
You’re sitting in front of Jeno with your drink, Renjun beside him, Jaemin beside you. Haechan ran off to the bathroom and was in there for a while. You’d make a joke, honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone buzzes and the notification states it’s from him. 
Jaemin silently and curiously watches you open it from the side. 
Silence. Unnerving silence from the entire food court as you glance at your screen for a split second before slamming your phone face down on the table and refusing to look at any of them. 
You feel seen, and you know for a fact that Haechan is probably laughing his ass off in that fucking bathroom stall with the way you leave that image on read. 
“You’re blushing–” Jeno says, watching the way your eyes shift and you suck down your drink like there’s no tomorrow. “Why?” 
You pretend you don’t hear him before Jaemin laughs. 
“Haechan showed her his dick,” He smiles, leaning down onto the table and scooting close to you. “I think you liked it.”
“I barely saw it!” You defend in a tone louder than expected, continuously sipping your drink until it’s nearly empty. 
You can’t bear to make eye contact with any of them right now, not after seeing a raging cock like the one Haechan is sporting. He’s a menace, truly, and it’s not that you wouldn’t have wanted to see it or anything but like maybe sending it to you in such a public space was a dick move on his part.
Sensing the eyes of three men on you right now, judging to see what you really think of Haechan’s junk, you refuse to look up from the table. 
Jeno definitely takes advantage of your blind spots. Wanting so badly to see those cheeks blush the same way they’re doing for Haechan. If anything, for his own ego boost. He wants you to break for him, not for that slut Haechan who is obvious in his attempts to make you want him the most.
Your phone buzzes again. 
“Go on,” Jeno smiles. “Open it.” He encourages you, noting the way you still won’t look up at them. Loving how you’re somehow both entirely shameless and entirely cautious about this situation. 
You realize only now that these men are taking advantage of every single situation. 
Of course you didn’t notice Jeno skewing his phone down and under the table. How could you notice? You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that Haechan is in a bathroom right now raging hard and proud of it.
You don’t even know why you listen to him, opening the text from none other than Jeno himself and seeing a photo of his hand gripping himself. You can see the outline of his length and the way his fingers grip against the sheer size of it. Right fucking here, under this very table. You can see your shoes at the corner of the photo briefly as you stare at the photo a bit longer than you truly meant to. Kind of wishing he had just sent you a raw photo of it. 
Now he can fucking see you imagine what’s under these pants. The lump he’s gripping only offers so much to your imagination and it leaves you wanting more. He knows it’s doing something for you with the way you stare at it, eyes no longer darting over the screen of your phone but pointed at one specific place. 
Your eyes shift up to him on instinct now.
Buzz. 
You whip your head over to Renjun when you see his name pop up on your screen. He does not look at you nor your reaction to the text but is smirking devilishly just like the rest of them. 
You’re a little thankful that his photo must’ve been a picture he took on some other day. You feel relief that at least he’s maybe not entirely hard like Jeno and Haechan are right now. (He is.)
“You guys are pussies,” Jaemin comments, shaming his friends for simply sending photos when you’re right here, looking all shy and reserved as if you haven’t been rubbing your legs together all day. “Come here.” He says quickly and quietly, grabbing your hand as if it’s to warm it up before blatantly pressing it between his legs and flexing his length under your palm.
He’s hard. Like, incredibly hard and it takes everything in you not to grab it. 
Then you hear him chuckle, looking at you and the way you haven’t even removed your hand from him yet. 
“So shameless,” Jeno side-eyes, annoyed. “We’re in public, at least act like you’re not enjoying this right now.” 
You’re quick to retract your hand, feeling Jaemin’s hips shift up and against it until he can no longer chase the feeling of your fingers. 
There, you’re left feeling a mess. The worst part is that they’re not even alone in being turned on right now in the middle of a food court. You regret wearing these shorts, the arousal is easily seeping through your panties and offering a very, very, uncomfortable sensation against you. Each shift of your legs feels like a jolt of pleasure and also a raw and rashed feeling of the denim being too harsh against an extremely sensitive area on your body.
Many times over the years, you’ve thought of each of these men at least once or twice. With all that porn they share on twitter, it really really is hard not to. Never did you expect them all to act this way toward you while together though. It was always a one on one thing in your head, but now? You’ve seen Haechan and Renjun’s cocks, you’ve gotten an idea of how big Jeno’s is, and you’ve blatantly felt Jaemin’s. 
The body tingles are worse now. There’s a burning in your stomach, and it travels straight between your legs. The arousal is there, but a release isn’t. At least not yet. 
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You jump up. 
Not only is this bathroom break there for like, actual bathroom purposes seeing as how you’ve had a coffee, an entire bottle of water, and now that tasty tea that you just downed within the span of three seconds, but, also because you need to breathe. You need to gather your thoughts desperately, and maybe get a better look at those photos. 
“No,” Jeno laughs, standing up after you. “You’re just trying to avoid it.” He looms over you as he stands, looking down at you with a smirk. “You don’t need to use the bathroom.”
“No, I actually do need to. I just drank that entire tea in less than five minutes thanks to you guys.” 
“That’s too bad,” He says in a mocking tone. “We have places to be.” 
And you just look at him, seeing Haechan appear in your peripheral vision as he talks in an animated way with Jaemin and Renjun. 
~
Store after store, you can feel the atmosphere become heavier and heavier between you and your group of friends. They’re entirely shameless in how they’re interacting with you and at this point, you can barely remember how the dynamic used to be. 
There used to be flirting, but it was all based on a joke. At least that’s what you thought back then. Now, after seeing specific parts of them as they were sitting right in front of and next to you, save for Haechan, all of this flirting seems more like fucking foreplay. 
It feels like torture, watching Jeno spend and spend his money on anything you so much as glance at. Haechan’s hands constantly stay on you in some way. Jaemin? Fucking Jaemin, cornering you alone every chance he gets, whispering things, pressing his dick against your ass when he’s behind you, asking you to touch him again.
You feel like you’re going insane with the amount of nervous arousal shaking within you. Your body loves it, your mind loves it. Every suggestion bursts vividly in your head, to the point that you very nearly feel like all of this could be a dream. 
Then, the very not normal Renjun shocks you when he tries to lace his fingers in yours as you walk. You did find comfort with his warm hands in yours, despite having a photo of his hard cock sitting in a text message. It was kind of grounding, maybe? Reminding you that this isn’t a dream at all. All four of your friends are trying to fuck you. 
Renjun kept fiddling with your fingers as you walked which, arguably, is a bit detrimental seeing as how you’re just a group of five people wandering around a mall with a desperate need to like, fuck something.
Safe to say you’re the one who may have shocked him. Thinking too hard about the way his fingers move and play against you. You focus on his birthmark, the way it contrasts with his skin tone and appears to be more like a bruise than anything else. The way his veins pulse languidly when he squeezes your fingers in his, you wonder if he moves his hands the same way when he’s using them for pleasure.
Renjun looks down at your fingers intertwined through the silence, loving the way you allow him to do this. He knows it’s not forward like everyone else even if he’s chasing the same thing. He likes to study the way you react, testing his own methods and noting how he’s somehow got you not even watching where you’re walking because you’re too busy staring at his fingers laced with yours. 
“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers right up against you as you walk behind the others, shifting his eyes to check and see that they’re not paying attention to this little moment.  
When you look back up at him, your attraction burns in your eyes and he sees that shit instantly.
“About my fingers?” He smirks.
You look away and relax your hand in his, as if to remove it from his grasp, but he takes this opportunity to show you the strength he has in his hands alone, squeezing tighter. 
“You were imagining what they could do to you, weren’t you?” He says it so proudly, like he could possibly be the first of the four to get you to actually incriminate yourself in wanting him just as badly as he wants you. 
“And if I was?” You glare before glancing down again. “What then?” 
“We could slip away right now, into that bathroom over there and I could show you–” 
Bathroom. 
You still need to go to the bathroom, but the arousal of fucking everything right now is taking high priority when it comes to how your body feels. The burn is…interesting when you think about it. You feel heavy between your legs, entirely turned on, and honestly, if he hadn't said that word you likely would have continued to pretend you don’t need to go. 
“Speaking of,” You announce so that the three walking in front turn to listen. “Bathroom break?” 
Jeno doesn’t stop walking, shaking his head.
“No, this is the last stop and the bathroom is like, across the mall.” He offers a genuine excuse, causing you to huff and completely miss the way he smirks at the small win. 
“There was a bathroom just back there.” You protest, halting where you are before turning to look at the door.
“Employees only.” Jeno continues, now turning himself around and walking backwards. “What? Gonna throw a tantrum? Just hold it, stop whining.”
You huff again, looking at Renjun and rolling your eyes.
“Was that for me, or do you actually need to go?” He asks as you try to speed up and walk with Jaemin instead. 
“I actually need to go, but I guess I’ll just deal for now.” Another eye roll. 
Damn, rejected. Still, you admitted to possibly thinking about what his fingers could do for you, and that’s a win in his book.
~
There’s a specific type of effort in the way you pretend you don’t care for what’s going on. You know they don’t believe your act, and they know you know. It feels like a game, and at some point all games come to an end.
The car ride back to your apartment felt like hell. Your body is far more aroused with the need to be filled compared to the need to be emptied. Thoughts of going to the bathroom are so far out of your mind with the way the silence in the car feels heavy and sex fueled. 
Every sound feels like it’s implied to be sexual. Haechan stretched for a moment and every single head turned to him for the sound he made. On any other day, that’s just a stretch. Today though, that’s probably what he would sound like if he were plunging into you. 
Jeno’s hand remains on your leg in a somewhat possessive way. Rubbing his thumb in circles and moving that touch higher and higher as he drives. The warmth you feel under his fingertips are forcing images to bleed into your mind. You wonder if he wants to move them higher, if he wants to tuck his fingers under the fabric and feel around the skin that’s not shown. You wonder if these simple touches would feel just as warm caressing other places on your body. Slipping under your shirt or down your shorts. Running through your hair, holding your chin up to look at him– 
You’re thankful they can’t read minds. You’d blow your whole cover at this moment, as you finally let your mind truly think about what’s happened today, and what will likely happen soon. If you were in your right mind, you think you would be able to understand where all of this is coming from. It truly was sudden with the way they’re acting, but it’s a natural instinct for you to not care why it’s happening, and only care about the fact that it should happen.
There’s no telling what will take place when you get back into your apartment. You can picture it so clearly but then again, you also can’t. There’s so many things you can do with four men at the same time but, the issue is that you want to do all of the things.
“So, you want us all to eat you out.” Jaemin deadpans through the silence. What he says should be a question, but it comes out more like a statement. 
In all fairness, he’s so hard that being quiet right now? Waiting like he has been all day? It’s too much. He needs to talk about it.
Only now do you tear your eyes away from Jeno’s hand on your leg. 
“What?” You ask, searching your brain for any sober thought that would indicate you ever invited them to do such a thing with your own words.
“You said you want us to eat you out on your couch.” He dead pans, sucking in a breath and adjusting himself in the seat to offer his length optimal comfort. 
“No? I didn’t?” 
“Bullshit!” Haechan argues, already pulling up the receipts on his phone and leaning forward to put it directly in your line of sight. “Eyeball emoji and all.”
You stare at the tweet you shared with the implications it gave to your friends. Now, you’re in a car with said friends, on your birthday, after an entire day of sex fueled conversations and acts. 
It definitely was an implication at its finest but it’s not like you knew this would come out of it. This specific tweet seems to have been the final straw for them and you can’t help but feel fucking proud of it. 
“Technically, I didn’t say that.” You still try to keep the energy you’ve had all day, but Jeno’s hand offers you a squeeze against your thigh and instantly you’re turning your head to look at him. 
“But you do want it,” Jeno says, pulling into the lot of your apartment building. “And we’re going to give it to you.”
You stare at him much like you have tried to avoid all day. 
“But–” 
“Stop.” He warns, cutting you off from any argument you try to form. “You want it.” He repeats again, this time letting his eyes scan you for a moment.
He’s not wrong. If anything, you want it more now than you did three seconds ago based on that tone of voice alone. That cold, scolding, deep voice that would make you agree to anything he says anyway. 
You don’t even turn to look at the nods of approval as Jeno shuts you down. Instead, you wait for him to park.
~
First things first, bathroom. Except that’s not anyone else’s priority. You wouldn’t be able to go even if you started running for the door. 
Why? Because the way Jaemin closes in on you before the front door is even closed. Shamefully, his eagerness does manage to push that need for a release into the back of your mind for just a little longer. 
After a full day of fantasizing, wanting, and needing, Jaemin made damn sure he was the first. Kicking his shoes off and helping you to get yours off before blatantly ignoring his friends and swooping you up in his arms.
You briefly glance back at the others, offering a pleading look of “save me please” but, there is no saving to be had here. All three of them have a dark look in their eyes, leaving the bags of gifts bought for you right there at the door as they watch Jaemin give in to his fantasy first. 
That, he does. There is no room to protest, to play games, or pretend like you’d push him away. Because you won’t, and he fucking knows it. 
He carries you to the couch with such ease, tossing you down onto it and adjusting you before you can do it yourself. 
You can’t look away from him. For a moment it feels like this instance with him is entirely hidden. Like there aren't three other guys watching the way he pushes you back against the couch, falls to his knees, and spreads your legs with a strong grip. 
“Oh fuck,” He comments to himself, noting the way you smell from the day of their hard work on arousing you. He stares directly between your legs and loves the way your shorts have ridden up to the point it must have been uncomfortable. “Look at you.” 
You can’t bear to admit the blatant truth of what he’s seeing. These shorts have been dampened over and over again today. You’d be shocked if they were dry. You can imagine how pathetic you look right now too, pussy nearly on display already while still being fully covered.  
On instinct you shoot your arms up to cover your face as if to avoid this embarrassment. The confirmation of wanting this all day, just like them, is shameful. Even as Jaemin unbuttons your shorts and starts to tug at them, you can’t help the way you feel like you’re spiraling. 
You want this so badly, and now Jaemin has the dirty, messy, wet proof. 
“So shy,” You hear from behind you, now feeling another pair of hands pull your arms from your face and hold them at your side, as he dips down to your neck from behind the couch. “You tried to hide it but,” He continues, blowing softly at the spot at the dip of your neck. “You were squeezing those legs together all day wanting someone between them, weren’t you?” 
Goddamn Jeno for being a talker. Fuck Jeno for having these strong hands and holding you down for Jaemin to toy around between your legs. Curse that man for having such a sensual voice as he talks to you, dumbing you down to the point that all you can do is fucking agree with him. 
Jaemin listens intently to the way Jeno talks to you as he continues to bask in the scent. Your shorts are now crumpled to the floor and your blatant arousal was evident in all forms of the word. Your panties leave nothing to the imagination, soaked to the point of not being able to hold any more of that dripping heat. They rode up much like your shorts did, exposing both lips and folds to envelope the fabric tightly as if you were intending to gain some sort of friction from them throughout the day. He thinks that you were, quite literally, fucking yourself against these flimsy panties for the majority of the time you spent with them, pretending that they weren’t rubbing against your clit the entire time. 
He hums from between your legs, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs to spread your legs out more. Haechan comes over now, wanting to see what it is that has Jaemin entirely speechless and holy fuck, anyone would be. 
Your folds are glistening in wet, unsticking and settling around your tightly stretched panties in a different way now. Haechan makes no attempt to pretend it’s not a beautiful sight. 
He’s the first to moan at the image of how pathetically horny you got for them. All while trying to hide it, parading around all fucking day with your panties hugging that clit in a way you wished he was– for sure. Him. You want him the most, and he’s going to fucking give it to you. 
“Aww,” Haechan coos, his eyes scanning you entirely. “You really do want me to eat it, don’t you?” 
The heat that runs down your body at those words is more telling than the small sigh that forces itself out of your throat. Your entire body jerks at the feeling of goosebumps reacting to his words, and for some reason, you shoot your eyes to Renjun as if seeing him right now will calm your embarrassment. It doesn’t though. Renjun is looming near the entry of your living room, staring blankly at what’s been revealed with the heavy length in his pants twitching and making itself known to you. He appears to be waiting for your response.
You don’t respond. How could you? There are no words in your head right now. Not with all of the sensations you’re feeling, not with all of the eyes on you. You try to offer a nod, feeling pathetic, but your hips answer for him.
Haechan watches the way they buck up at his words and instantly he’s shoving Jaemin over with a confident chuckle, slotting himself between your legs alongside him. He shows no shame in the way he hooks his fingers under the panties, digging in deep just to get a hold of them. You can feel his knuckle bump your hole and you clench at the feeling. Then, as if he’s making a show of it, he groans as he stretches your panties out of your folds and away from your body. 
“Damn,” Haechan says nearly in unison with Jaemin, both entirely too eager to be in a shared space between your legs right now. They barely even acknowledge the other, but there is a silent form of encouragement between the two. 
Never did you think you’d find your eyes glued to the way Haechan slips the panties off of you, or the way Jaemin pockets them instantly. Like they’re working together, even if not on the same team.
You breathe in audibly at the air that hits you. It’s cold, sending a shiver down your entire body. Jeno feels those goosebumps under his hold on you, his cock twitching wildly in his pants at seeing how you’re just letting this happen.
“So, so, dirty,” He starts in a whisper against your neck, so silent that it almost feels like he doesn’t want the others to hear. “I knew you’d get off to this.” 
You release the smallest of groans and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s calling you out or if it’s because someone down there just slid their fingers up your slit. 
Holy fuck, whose fingers are down there doing this right now?
Haechan is beaming up at you, giving himself the title of public enemy number one because he definitely centered himself between your legs and shoved Jaemin out of the way entirely. He wants to be the first one to taste you, and he fucking means it. 
He shows no shame in how desperate he is, which kind of makes you feel a little better as you watch him and his head of messy hair nearly lose sight of the goal while he spreads your pussy apart repeatedly just to see you clench around nothing.
God, he adores seeing your body reacting to what he’s not yet giving. The way you clench, the way your legs tense with each slide of his fingers. He’s inspecting the damage of your untouched and utterly soaked pussy as if it was entirely his fault that you’re in this state. 
The other’s let him have this one though, because they know for a fact that when they get between those thighs, they’ll humble him with confident ease. 
Jaemin, specifically, believes this. Taking defeat in being shoved from between your legs and losing his chance at being the first to fuck his tongue into you. The image of Haechan doing his thing is enough to give him the confidence to do twice as well when it’s his turn anyway. 
He busies himself instead.
There, as Haechan slides his fingers up your slit before landing right on your clit and pressing harshly against it, Jaemin unlocks his phone and opens his camera without a single hint of hesitation. His other hand goes straight to his jeans, skewing them down to let his cock spring free. Then, he’s reaching for your soaked panties and simply…hanging them off the head of his length as he records the scene in front of him with an eager glint in his eye. 
“Mm, look–” Jeno says as he nudges your cheek, holding you down more now in case you make an attempt to lunge forward and knock that phone out of his hands. “You must look so good down there for him to wanna record you like this.”
You don’t even protest, because the clench of your pussy that’s being recorded in 4k would tell on you. Jaemin’s eyes are glued to the screen of his phone as Haechan continues to spread you open, exploring, feeling. Your eyes are tuned in to the only bare cock in the room now, seeing your panties shield the majority of it but loving the imagine of how tall his length stands, and then, finally–
“Oh? What was that?” Jeno perks up at the now, louder, sigh you release from your shamed lips. “Do you like what he’s doing?” He adds, trailing his eyes down to see exactly what caused you to make such a pretty sound.
You moan a confirmation, feeling a warm pair of lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly. The sounds of Haechan’s pleased hum at the taste only amplifies the touch beyond belief. Your entire body tingles at how insane all of this feels. Lips on you, Jeno’s voice in your ear, Jaemin recording it for later use, and Renjun slowly inviting himself to join? 
Your legs immediately try to close around Haechan’s head when he continues to assault your clit with small grazes of his teeth, and wouldn’t you know it, Renjun finally approaches. Taking the struggle of your legs as a fucking invitation. He holds your legs with a stronger grip than you ever imagined he could have, spreading them wide enough that your ass nearly lifts from the couch.
 The stretch of how wide he spreads them burns, and you try to look up at him in a pleading way but he's too busy pressing his surprisingly large cock against the side of your leg as he watches Haechan lick against you.
Haechan is appreciative of what Renjun offers to the scenario, feeling your pussy spread out across his lips and chin. It’s enticing when he doesn’t have to spread it open with his fingers, and it’s hard not to lick the entirety of it as he abandons your clit. Tongue slipping through each fold, licking flat right against your hole, then pressing in slightly before returning back to your clit and skewing his head to really get at it.
So, this is actually a thing that is happening. All four of your friends are entirely tuned into you and you’re being held down as if you’d run away. As if you’re not enjoying it. Goddamn, you are though. 
In a split second decision, you prove that by overpowering Jeno and his weaker hold against you now. Seeing as how he was entirely lost in watching the way your legs and stomach tense at whatever Haechan’s tongue was doing. You rip your arms from his grasp and instantly grab Haechan’s hair, holding his face down and against your clit. Rubbing his nose in it, bucking your hips up against the pressure of his lips and tongue, wildly chasing what his lazy tongue struggles to offer. 
There’s the desperate need to fuck all of your friends that you’ve been hiding, and it’s showing. 
Jeno chuckles, nodding against your neck, still not touching and waiting for you to just fucking moan louder. More than Haechan, just overpower his sounds so he doesn’t have to hear how fucking good you taste, or how good you smell, or how good your pussy must look down there. 
Still, you don’t give them everything they want. You stay reserved in the sounds you make in terms of reactions, even as you use Haechan’s face like a toy. Even as Jaemin audibly gasps at what you’re doing, even as Renjun releases one of your legs out of a desperate need to hold the other one against him so that he can feel some type of release. 
Haechan knows his friends are jealous of him at this moment though. He’s lucky to feel your fingers tugging against his hair, he’s blessed to have your clit bumping his lips. He can feel your pussy drip against his chin the more you ride his face, and goddamn he must be doing a good job at being used. 
That, he is. You only struggle more and more to not moan at the feeling of the way he just…lets you. If you knew he was always this submissive when it comes to eating pussy, you would have jumped on his tongue years ago. 
Jaemin continues his recording, trying to zoom in and out to get a good angle that doesn’t involve the boners of his own friends, eventually deciding that he simply doesn’t care if Renjun is in the frame fucking that monster he’s got in his jeans against your leg. You’re the center of the world right now, and he’s a part of this just like his friends. 
He tries not to focus on the image of Haechan gripping your couch for dear life either.
Slowly though, he begins to realize there’s a strange type of arousal in this room, one that isn’t entirely burning just for you. There’s something about seeing Haechan being used, seeing Jeno try to remain in control, whispering cocky little words into your ear, like he’s not pressing his cock against the back of that couch, seeing Renjun blatantly lose his composure against you when he’s never so much as hinted to the others that he was into this sort of thing.
Jaemin really feels like he’s going insane over the realization of how alluring this situation is, how alluring his friends are, how alluring he must be.  
The speed of which he tosses the panties from his cock and shoves Haechan out of his way is not to be discussed. He feels a fire behind his thoughts at this moment that surely, Haechan won’t mind. Surely, you’ll not feel that split second of abandonment that’ll take place in the time span it takes for him to replace Haechan’s lips.
He forces his phone into a dazed Haechan’s hands who lazily raises the camera up to see Jaemin take his place. The way you barely even take a breath, the way you don’t even react to the change of mouth against you– goddamn, Haechan may very well fall into obsession with you at this moment. 
Replacing him with Jaemin like he’s trash? Why does he love it? The way you grab Jaemin’s hair the same way you did to his own? Is that what he looked like when you did that? Spreading your legs and fucking against his face? Seeing it from a different angle, with a different person to Haechan, makes him believe you may be the sexiest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of licking.
And if you knew of the crisis happening below, perhaps you’d be able to focus on that more than the sound of Jeno’s deep sighs against your neck. Really, maybe you would have realized that the hair tangled in your fingers is now Jaemin’s. 
Your brain focuses solely on the way Jeno’s lips brush against your skin, the wet feeling of his tongue darting out every few minutes, whispering deep mutterings of the things he loves about what’s happening. Words like “I can hear how wet you are, is it for me or for them?” and “You want more, don’t you? I could bury myself so deep for you–”
It’s kind of crazy how Jeno’s words somehow feel more intense than Jaemin’s tongue on you. There’s something within his words that feel damning. Like he’s belittling his friends despite blatantly seeing how they pleasure you. Like there’s a promise sprinkled in that after all of this, he would be the one you’d think about the most. He would be the one to leave the lasting impression. 
Arguably, he already has. Spending his money on you without question, calling you out in a way that shows he knows exactly what game you’re playing. You think that if you let Jeno have at you, it may very well be a lasting impression on everyone, not just you. 
Still, you try to focus on Jaemin’s lips through Jeno’s muttering. 
You can feel the way he uses more tongue than Haechan and you know your hips are chasing his mouth right now. You can also feel the vibrations of his moans against you and while that is a heavenly feeling, Jeno’s small grunts penetrate straight through that pleasure and center itself once again. Briefly, you almost imagine it’s Jeno between your legs.
You’re moaning softly right next to him, hips chasing a feeling that he’s not even offering to you but god these sounds are for him. You’d never tell Jaemin that the moans aren’t directed at the beautiful work he’s giving to you though. Never. 
These moans are for Jeno to react to, to take in, to use as encouragement. And he eats it up, tensing himself against your couch and finally using his hands for something other than helping you hold Jaemin’s head in place. 
He runs them up, now moving his head to the other side of your neck and leaving small kisses there as he lifts your shirt up, up, up until it’s bunched up under your arms. There, he cups the flesh of your chest and uses his pointer finger on both hands to tease your already hardened nipples through the fabric of your bra. 
He’s thought about playing with your tits so often, now that he can do it? He’d be damned not to savor it while his friends are busy fucking themselves and being used by you. 
He teases, and teases, and fucking teases.
“Sensitive?” He whispers against you at the way you arch your back into his touch more than the way your hips fuck up. 
You nod mindlessly, throwing your head back against the couch. Then, finally, he pulls your bra up too. An uncomfortable fit against your collar bone but his warm hands overpower the feeling of fabric that you’d rather have removed completely. 
At first, he just holds them in his hands, feeling the weight of them, bouncing them, and then caressing them. 
“Could drive me insane with these.” He whispers against your neck in a pleased sigh, pinching one of your nipples before mindlessly playing with them. “I’d like to slide my dick between them and feel how fucking soft they are,” He continues, losing his train of thought as he stares down, imagining how the slide would feel. “Fuck, so pretty.”
At that moment, you think he might have lost composure. The sound of his voice indicates that he was really thinking about it. You can feel the couch budge at the way he tenses up against it, and that paired with his teeth biting against your neck, you feel like the most desired person in the room. Which is true. 
The more Jeno talks, the more you find yourself willing to give him just about anything he asks for. His big hands grope your chest in such a firm way, blatantly showing interest in the way he touches and plays with them. Every fleshy expanse of skin there is warmed up by his hands and it’s not strange at all to feel incredibly turned on by it.
Haechan audibly moans at seeing your tits jiggle in Jeno’s hands, probably ruining the video he’s recording but god damn. He knew they were huge but they’re pretty too and that’s just the ultimate combination when it comes to tits for him. 
Just as Haechan goes to make his mouth useful again against a different part of you, Renjun takes what he needs. Which is fair, Haechan thinks, knowing that he’s already gotten to taste you, the least he can do is let Renjun suck some titties. 
Jaemin, is still below enjoying himself and shockingly, Haechan is keeping to himself as he records, slipping his hand down his pants just to edge himself every few minutes as he watches the situation unfold. Almost in a daze at how insane it is that finally, you’re letting them see and touch you like this.
Feeling Renjun finally put his mouth on you though? Damn. Feeling three of the four touching you is a lot to take in but you still manage to do it. Jolts of pleasure are sent straight to where Jaemin continuously grinds his lips against your clit. Renjun shows no shame in inviting himself onto the couch next to you, swatting one of Jeno’s hands away and laying claim on one of your tits, immediately sucking against it and feeling himself spiral at the way you arch into it. 
Jeno can’t say he’s too pleased with that though, staring straight at the way everyone has had their lips on part of you, but all he’s gotten was your fucking neck? All he’s gotten was to hump up against this couch to satiate his needs, and feel your nipples? 
Renjun doesn’t notice the dark look on Jeno’s face, but Haechan sure does as he double takes at both the image on the phone screen and Jeno. 
He recognizes that look and knows for a fact that Renjun better open his eyes and pay attention, or–
“Jaemin, get her off or move–” Jeno says, halting his fingers on your nipple as he backs away from the couch and now comes around in full view.
You stare, feeling Renjun continuously suck against your nipple, sending ripples down to your belly. Jeno’s pants are much tighter than before, and you can see the outline of his cock much like when you saw the photo he sent you.
It looks even bigger than before and your mouth nearly waters for it. The eye contact he’s keeping with you doesn’t do anything to help the situation either because he loves the way you struggle to decide on if you want to meet his eye or stare at his length. 
There, he grabs himself, thrusting his hips playfully toward you with a quirk of his brow, as if to suggest you could have more than just his tongue if you ask. 
You take in the implied suggestion, releasing Jaemin’s hair and struggling not to shove him clear across the room just to see what Jeno has to offer to you. It’s honestly like no one else in the room exists when he stands between your legs, looming over you and not at all falling to his knees. 
You, Haechan, and Jaemin watch as he stands there, making a show of unbuttoning his pants to get his cock out. Renjun remains in his own little world though, sucking your nipple as if his life depends on it while shoving his pants down and shamelessly fucking into his fist. 
Then, Jeno makes his move. It’s not exactly unwanted but damn, he really fucking goes for it. Dropping his pants to the floor and gripping Renjun by the hair, pulling him away from you as well.
“You got what you wanted while I had to watch,” Jeno comments harshly at his friends, grabbing your legs and pulling you down to wrap them around his waist. “Now, you watch me.”
Instantly, your pussy is throbbing at the image of how huge he is. His cock lays easily against you, heavy and leaking as it twitches to be inside of something. He’s going to fuck you. Jeno is going to fuck the life out of you. This wasn’t at all in the plan, then again, was any of this in your plan for the day? 
Do you want Jeno to fuck you? Your eyes scan the room, all three men and a camera pointing their eyes at you. There seems to be a bit of a hopeful glint in each eye.
You nod weakly, watching Jeno take a good look at your pussy before smirking. 
“So wet for this, no wonder they were moaning more than you were,” Jeno smiles, staring down at your hole before licking the tips of his fingers and dipping them into you without so much as a warning. “Feels good to finally have something to fuck, right Birthday girl?”
You’re speechless, wincing at how deep he buries his fingers. Never realizing just how perfect they’d reach inside of you. He bumps areas inside that you desperately need with so much ease.
Oh, oh fucking no.
There’s that burn. The reminder of a different release, pressure building up at lightning speed as your wet walls squeeze his fingers. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Jeno comments at how tight you’re squeezing his fingers. “How long have you wanted me?” He continues, ignoring the other three in the room and paying no mind to them.
You can barely answer, your body reacting in all sorts of ways that it never has when it comes to a pair of fingers and dirty words. Perhaps it’s the sudden burn of needing to get to the bathroom, or perhaps it’s just Jeno. He leaves no room for any of that though, as he continues to chase what he wants. 
“You want me?” He asks, urging you to nod, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks with one hand to look directly into his eyes. 
His other hand pulls from your pussy and he coats his length in that wet that soaks his fingers. There, he tugs, leaking just like you are for it. 
You blink up at him, sparing a single glance at the others and hoping that they don’t protest when you ultimately nod your head innocently.
“Take it then.” He seethes the words through his teeth before instantly adjusting his length and sliding into you in one go. Bottoming out entirely and holding himself there. 
The sound you let out is embarrassing and slightly choked. The stretch of him inside of you makes you shake, your legs falling open from around him at the weakness in your muscles trying to adjust to the intrusion. 
His two fingers were not enough to prepare for how thick he is inside of you. Every twitch he offers hurts, every breath he takes feels like he’s already fucking you senseless and you genuinely couldn’t muster up a single word of “wait,” if you wanted to.
Because you don’t want him to wait. You like the searing pain of fullness both inside of your pussy and bladder. It’s overwhelming and almost blinding to feel so utterly out of control of your body. 
“Oh, my god.” Jaemin whispers out, experiencing first hand how huge Jeno’s cock is and the way he makes it fit into you. 
He can see how tight you are around him, knowing for a fact that if Jeno were to jerk his hips back, your pussy would resist it. He shifts his eyes to the other’s in the room, seeing how Haechan has blatantly abandoned his phone and propped it up on the table to get his pants off, probably because he wants to see if he can fuck you after Jeno.
Renjun is just fucking gone, already having a fair share of cum on his shirt and breathing hard as he stares directly at the point of entry in a dazed and hopeful way. 
Then there’s himself. Jaemin wants to fuck something so goddamn bad that he’s actually a little upset that he left that store without a pocket pussy. If Jeno gets to do what he wants, why the fuck can’t he?
So, he not so reluctantly finds him moving to his feet and over to you– avoiding eye contact with Jeno as he kicks his pants off followed by his shirt and lounges next to you on the couch. 
He’s reluctant to reach for you at first, but when Jeno relieves that pressure inside of you for a moment and slams back in, he finds himself immediately reaching for your hand and lying it directly against his cock simply because of the sound you make.
You can barely think straight through the stars of Jeno’s cock spreading you open so slowly like this. He barely pulls out before pushing back in when you feel Jaemin grab your hand. You do your best, honestly, with all things considered. Opting to simply hold his cock tightly so that he can at least fuck into it. And that he does, especially when he hears the continuous string of whimpered moans spilling from your lips.
Jeno really does pay no mind to Jaemin because the point is, he’s the one who has his cock in you. They can take what they can get but he’s going to take exactly what he wants. 
You’re incredibly tight around him, strangling his cock in such a beautiful way despite still dripping around it. The slide is harsh when he pulls back again. He looks down, watching the way your pussy grips him before pushing back in a bit harder this time. 
“God, fuck,” He groans, gripping your legs and now pushing you back and fully onto the couch. He crawls over you, somehow managing to plant his cock even deeper when he thrusts this time. “You can barely take it–”
The way he moans breathlessly makes you feel proud despite your body feeling as if it’s on fire. Not a single mouth on your clit has gotten you close to orgasm because of his words overshadowing it. Now, though? With his cock bumping repeatedly against the softest spot in your pussy? You’re fucking shaking. 
His moans do little to help the situation as you clench tightly, panicking slightly at the familiar feeling in your gut.  You shoot up, nearly knocking heads with Jeno and abandoning Jaemin’s pathetically needy cock all together when you continue to push Jeno away. 
He barely budges, forcing his cock in and out of you, smiling at your panic. This is what he was waiting for, he can see exactly what you’re trying to do. 
“Just take it,” He laughs slowly, picking up the pace of his hips and watching that panic in your eyes. “Let it go.” 
You can’t bring yourself to do it. That burning sensation in your bladder making itself far too known when his cock bumps that spot inside of you. You aggressively shake your head. 
“Come on, let it go.” He encourages, now snaking his hand down and rubbing your clit at such speed that really, it’s not intentional. 
Your body tenses and you let out that breath you’ve been holding through this. On instinct your body pushes, it shakes, and you let go. Jeno knew exactly what he was doing throughout the day too, so he’s fucking beaming when your pussy forces him out along with the gushing liquid of your long awaited release. 
“God, so messy.” He compliments you, trying to force his cock back into place to feel that release in its full intensity. “Let it go, drench me–” He continues to talk, losing his goddamn mind at how soaked he’s getting. Fucking so harshly past your clenching walls, burying himself as deep as he can go just to feel the way your pussy jerks him off in an attempt to push him out.
He rumbles out a pleased sound, side eyeing Jaemin and the way he sits there fisting his own cock at a speed that is likely very painful. He can’t bear to turn to see the other’s though, but hopefully they know now who is calling the shots here after this.
It goes on for so long that you can barely even open your eyes by the time your body stops releasing. You choose not to comment on what just happened, knowing full well that you’ve never squirted in your life and feeling embarrassed that Jeno fucked you for a total of four minutes to force that out of you.
The relief you feel inside of you right now is…interesting to say the least. Still, you choose not to focus on the fact that Jeno is fucking beaming at you, still fucking into you, and the wet sounds below are far more telling than any porn you’ve ever watched. 
The room falls into silence save for the slapping of Jeno taking you for all you’re worth and the sounds of palms hitting the base of their assigned cocks, and– oh?
“You’re just taking it–” He groans out, short of breath as he drives himself deeper, harder, and then suddenly emptying you completely.
“Renjun,” Jeno says, lazily pumping his cock as if he didn’t just go fucking feral on top of you, and then abandon you.
You’re shocked at how fucking fast Renjun jumps up though, following orders as if he was born to do it. 
No words are spoken after that, all Jeno does is nod his head to the space between your legs and immediately you feel Renjun’s hands gripping your thighs and his tongue lapping away at the mess. 
Your legs start to shake again, feeling sensitive to the point that your hips try and fight to get away from his relentless probes of the tongue. He won’t let you go, holding you down and letting his lips follow wherever your hips go. 
You can’t get away, all you can feel is Renjun’s mouth cleaning up every single drop of that embarrassing mess that Jeno created, and the desperate whines that are coming from your lips only drive Renjun to eat harder. Making out with your clit in the way he’s wanted to do all fucking day, stiffening his tongue and tasting the insides of you, fingernails digging into your flesh just to prove how badly he needed this. 
It all happens so fast, a second orgasm approaching at the speed of light when Jeno coos out at the both of you. You both look pathetic, and it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be. 
Renjun goes, and goes, and fucking goes until– you realize how close he is. 
So close that, despite already having gotten off once without so much as letting anyone know, he’s standing to his feet and instantly fisting his cock. The speed of which he does it allows your clit to swell even more at the image despite your orgasm trickling back down. 
You focus on his face and the way his brows knit together, his mouth falls open, and then– a breathy moan. You can feel it spill, dripping down your slit and onto the couch. You’re shocked he has so much to offer as you lay there shaking, watching him empty himself entirely onto you. 
And then, the fucking whiplash you feel when Jeno moves him out of the way and, quite literally, drags you onto the floor before spreading you out wide for ultimate use. 
As long as he gets his cock in you again, they can do whatever they want for their release. 
You’re so silent, never feeling more like prey than you do now when you feel Jeno tuck a cushion up under your ass and fuck Renjun’s cum right into you in one slow and languid thrust. It’s animalistic in the way this turned from them trying to pleasure you into now, them trying to pleasure themselves. 
You can barely comprehend the way Jeno forces you to take his size again. Your mouth is left hanging open and Haechan uses that as a damn invitation, pressing his length past your lips and bumping the back of your throat. He holds your head there, feeling your throat constrict around him and releasing a long awaited moan that he’s been needing since he originally got to taste you. 
Relief is what they’re getting right now, and for some reason, you don’t feel ashamed at all with the way you let them. You’re a fucking mess despite Renjun cleaning you up and then promptly dirtying you twice as much. You open your eyes through your gagging at Haechan. 
He pauses at that. Staring down at the way the tears start to run down your cheek, but you’re implying with your slow blinks that you feel good. 
“Fuck, it’s just like the video–” Haechan chokes out, fucking his hips into your mouth at a rapid speed, reminding himself of that video you shared with the girl needing to be filled in every form of the word.
And you know, Jaemin would totally take you up on that offer, forcing all of you to stop just so he can get under you and fuck into that same hole Jeno has claimed, but, well, listen.
He’s so fucking close. He’s been edging himself this entire time and he will be damned to spill anywhere near someone else’s cock. Why? Because he’s way too attracted to everyone right now and he’s a bit concerned about getting off to someone other than you right now.
Which, that’s a hurdle he can deal with when he gets to it. He, instead, takes this opportunity to go for your hand again. Obsessing over the way your weak fingers grip him in an instant, dragging up and down his length with the help of Jeno’s insistent and harsh thrusts. 
He watches the way you moan with stretched lips, the way your legs lift to wrap around Jeno’s waist to try and hold him in place and then– Oh? You gain your composure back and grip his cock like you’re hell bent on milking him dry.
He groans with a smile, sinking down on his knees next to you and letting you work him up just like you’re doing for the others. 
You’re going with your hands, with your mouth, and with that tight little pussy of yours apparently because everything else happens in a blur.
To Renjun, he takes it upon himself to grab that phone and be sure to capture every messy second of what happens. 
First one down is Haechan. Once again, he grips your head and holds your face flat against his abdomen when he releases deep into your throat. His hands shake as he struggles not to suffocate you like this. He could feel you swallow around each spurt of his cum, utterly spending him of all energy before he releases you and lazily throws himself back against your floor in a huff.
Then, Jaemin. Despite being in his head, promising himself that your hand was good enough for him to finish, he couldn’t resist the absence of a cock in your mouth at that point. He immediately replaces Haechan, being far more gentle with the way he fucks himself against your tongue. Didn’t take long at all to have his hips stutter. He was more particular about his release though, snapping his hips back when his orgasm approached and jerking himself off right there against your face. He intentionally misses your mouth, wanting to see it drip down your cheeks and chin and onto those tits that have been long abandoned by now.
Which is a shame because he really likes those.
Then, Jeno, pulling the power moves he always does. 
He waits, and he waits, changing his pace time and time again to prevent you both from releasing. He does this until you’re practically gone. Your eyes roll back, your mouth is slack, and he can tell you have no thoughts at all in your head when you start babbling. Finally, he rubs your clit.
There, he holds himself off as your orgasm sends you straight into another dimension. You tremble through it as your entire body falls limp and out of breath and only then does he pull out and release the most pornographic, deep, moan you’ve ever heard in your life.
The amount of cum he releases on you is fucking obscene. To be fair, you drenched him first but holy fuck does he lay claim to as much of you as he can. 
It spurts up to your tits, some lands on your belly, a majority of it spills directly onto your clit and thighs.
You can’t help it when your fingers move to trace some of it around even more, feeling entirely sticky both inside and out. You help him lay his claim on every other part of you, even going as far as smearing that cum on your clit and gently dipping it inside of you with the tips of your fingers.
Jeno, out of breath and fucking watching you do that takes in a pained breath.
“Don’t” He warns, amazed by you. “Don’t do shit like that.”
You tilt your head with a dazed smile, pushing your fingers in deeper as if to ask “why not?”
He shakes his head, a smile creeping up on his face.
“Always such a damn tease.” 
~
a/n: there was a lot more i wanted to add to this, such as jeno getting his chance to eat and stuff, but i was writing too much so I hope you liked it anyway!
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winterarmyy · 9 months
Text
Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
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Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 2.9k++
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.
P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.
It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.
Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.
She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.
Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?
Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.
Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,
"Oh you're back?"
"How's the team?"
"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."
"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."
"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"
But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."
And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.
For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.
And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.
Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.
Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.
Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.
And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.
When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.
For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.
"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.
"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.
"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."
Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.
But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.
Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.
Something is wrong.
Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.
"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."
 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"
As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.
His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.
"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.
At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"
But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."
He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"
Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.
What is happening?
Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.
Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.
His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.
The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.
Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.
Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.
Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.
"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.
Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.
Will it work though?
Well, she got to have to try for it work.
She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.
When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.
The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.
However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.
There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.
"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.
But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."
The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."
Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.
But, does she?
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Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.
After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.
Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.
His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."
Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.
It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.
The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.
Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.
He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.
This is not Bucky.
She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.
Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.
His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"
Fuck, it feels so good.
"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.
He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.
He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.
He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.
"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."
She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.
This is getting out of hand.
Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.
She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.
This is wrong.
This has to stop.
"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.
"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.
"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.
God, what if he doesn't care?
What if he'll get mad and force it on her?
She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.
Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.
Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.
"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.
As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.
"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.
Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.
She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.
He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.
It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.
She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.
As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.
But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.
But what if he had something to hold on to?
A hope to look forward to?
A person to protect?
Or a home to go back to?
Would he still be the same monster he had been before?
She have not a slightest clue.
But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.
And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.
Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!
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bisexualiteaa · 5 days
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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want
A Flame in Your Heart
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader
AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️
Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.
“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.
“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.
Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.
“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.
Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.
He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.
When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.
When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?
“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.
“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.
Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.
Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.
In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.
As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.
“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.
It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.
“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.
By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.
It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.
“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.
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