#might not be so long after I edit it though

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG pt. 6

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You’re here for an appointment for therapy and he’s your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader —> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?) SWITCH POV

Warnings: matured themes

Word count: it's many i think

A/N: I honestly dunno when this will end.. Also there's this JK FF I've been working on (for like a year lmaooo I think I edited every chapter for about 10 times but the thing is I only managed to write 4 chaps? yeah oh gosh...) I might post it here too (but originally on wattpad) after this or... this another FF (still dunno which member)... kinda fantasy? yeah, I just thought of the storyline a couple of days ago. GOSHHH I WANNA WRITE THEM AND FINISH THEM ALL SO BADDDD

Comment your @ if u wanna be added to the taglist^^

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

When I was a kid, I never dreamed. Growing up, I felt different from the others.

Adults would always ask "What is your dream? What do you wanna be?" and people in my age would say a doctor because they wanna help people with illness, a teacher because they want to help and teach the others or a lawyer to bring justice.

Everyone had their reasons. Reasons that I never find myself fond of.

I was always amused by these kids because they really find themselves helping people, meanwhile I—never thought of that.

I was a kid.

Growing up, every time I hear the phrase "What do you want to be?", my mind goes blank. To the point where I'll just say what most people want to hear. Any job at that point, really.

As long as it lives up to our name—Jeon.

High school were a different stage though. That's when you'll feel the rush, the pressure, the need of wanting to know what do you want to do with your life.

Be a government slave?

That's why most of the time, I would jokingly answer, "I wanna be a good person. That's what I aim to be."

Maturing is realizing that anyone can be great at their occupation, but not everyone can be a good person. Everyone has their own flaw—their own suffering that shapes them for who they are today. But there's no such thing as Be-A-Good-Person Course and people would definitely not pay me just because of my manners. So, I still have to find a job that would suit me.

One thing I always hear from the adults were "Follow your dreams." which obviously isn't possible because I don't have a dream in the first place and "Do what you are passionate about."

Passion?

Every time I hear those words, I felt helpless. My mind always wonder that how come people just randomly have and know their dreams and passions. I was never taught how to do that.

I was a smart and talented kid. Everyone envies my talent and sure, their words really boost my ego, but not enough to make my head big. Once, my teacher in English when I was in 8th grade, asked me about my dream and I said I was still thinking. She then told me that I should definitely be a lawyer.

It was my first time hearing that and it felt odd. She said it'll be a waste if I won't be, since I'm "smart." I never even ranked first in class that's why hearing that from her made it even more weird.

A lawyer? Really? What made her thought I'll be great in that field? Just because I'm "smart"?

She said that to me for like 3 times but never once I had the courage to ask why. What did she saw in me that I never see?

Being "smart" and "talented" as a kid had it's downside too. It only made me more confused on what field I would go. Sure—I can do anything, but what scared me are the "What if's".

What if I was being too bold on that decision? What if the payment is too low to pursue? What if I get sick of something that used to be my hobby? What if I never become happy with it?

Pursuing a dream is harder than I thought. It could shape my future. One failure and everything could crumble down before it even get to soar.

There was a time when Jungkook and I were kids, he would always whine on how I shouldn't be too good and that he can't keep up with my pace. Even though he said it more as a joke, it broke my heart. He must've been pressured too. The only good thing is that we never heard them compare us to each other.

Or at least they never compared Jungkook to others.

Whenever I get home with a certificate in my hand, a proof that I'm one of the top student in our class—is exhausting. Of course, I was happy too that I managed to be on the top but it didn't feel like a reward. I was just relieved that it's done.

Their happy faces when they see that I did well, but what always crushed me was their question after congratulating me—"Who got the first? What did she do that you can't do to be on top? " Those were the lines I would always remember.

Right... It was never enough. No matter how high I achieved, if I'm not the first, it means nothing.

There was a lot of things my parents forced me to learn, and honestly, I was thankful for that. I am who I am now because of them.

One of the things that my parents forced me to learn was to play piano.

I hated it. Despised it even. Wishing how my hands would just snap or the piano would just break every time I practiced. I would always make a mistake and every time I do, I felt frustrated—wanting to break the keys.

Just to clarify, I didn't hate the piano itself, it was more like practicing it.

I was a child. The only things that I wanted to do was play and watch the goofy cartoons that were playing in our TV. Why am I suddenly stuck in a room playing a note over and over again?

It was a good thing my tutor was patient on me. He saw how uninterested and frustrated I am with the instrument but regardless of that, he did his job. Nevertheless, I only learned the basics because soon, I told them that I didn't wanna learn. Pleaded them to stop the lessons and after hours of convincing, they let me.

Surprisingly, they were gentle about it. Asking me if I'm sure I don't want it. But little did I know, soon, I would realize that it was a waste that I threw a tantrum and didn't learn the instrument.

Spring 2011

"Girl, have you heard the news?!" Chaeyoung squealed as she beamed me a grin when she walked in to the classroom.

It was early in the morning and I just arrived in the classroom as well. I wasn't supposed to attend the class today but I knew that even if I were to be excuse for a day, doesn't mean I won't have to do the things they did. I would only be more stressed on my missed activities and quizzes.

I'm practically a study maniac.

That is why even if I have a cold today, I still managed to convince my mother to let me attend the classes—after hours of nagging me, of course.

Sat on my chair with my head rested against my arms on the table, I looked up at her. "What is it that you're so thrilled early in the morning?" I grumbled and lazily rubbed my nose.

"Whoa, are you okay? You look sick." Chaeyoung eyed me as she took her seat in front of me.

"She got cold because she had been pulling all nighters to finish her painting. Her system couldn't take it so... yeah." Sana chimed in. She was a couple of tables away from us yet she still managed to be involved in our conversation.

I mustered to let out a chuckle as I nod—admitting all she said was right.

We had a week of school break and I impulsively wanted to paint some of my sketches using watercolor. It was my first time using it but it turned out fine.

But to be more specific, I wasn't just busy painting random stuffs. I was trying to learn how to draw him perfectly—accurately. Never have I ever thought his face will be the hardest to draw. Something wasn't just right. In my sight, he just looks like a boiled dumpling—must be easy, right? But by the time I draw him, something's always off.

Chaeyoung felt sorry for me but beams up again when she remembered what she was supposed to say in the first place. "Guys, have you seen the posters?? The seniors were having a little talent show and one of the performers is Neko!!" She giggled and Sana's face lit up too.

"Looks like Y/n's remedy is on his way," Sana teased.

I groaned, feeling the exhaustion creep up to me.

Does this people think my world revolves around him? It's just a silly crush, not like I would do stuffs for him.

"I won't go. He's not that special for me to go." I smugly said as I ignored the girls laugh and confusion.

After class, I rushed outside, telling them that I needed to go home early. On my way, I unintentionally saw the poster of the list of the participants on the show.

Class 11- A Min Yoongi.

"He would probably just dance... or sing. Like everybody. Not that interesting to waste my time on it." I muttered as I looked for the details more. "Tomorrow at 5:30 pm? What's with the late announcement..."

"Apologies about that. The council got too busy that we forgot to post it," Jin—the president of student council—chimed in beside me.

I was caught off guard when he spoke. It was my first time to see him up-close and seems like the rumors were true. His laid back attitude, looks and good courtesy made him win. He's way even prettier and taller up-close.

Jin smiled at me as I stared at him in fascination. "The show was mainly for seniors but juniors are welcome there too. It was actually a good thing that we showed it on such short notice, in this case students won't cram together."

I only nodded and shyly smiled. My head tilt up again when he spoke, "Are you going to watch? The audience that our auditorium can hold is limited, which is why there's only a few tickets left. So... here." Jin handed me a purple ticket.

"I-i don't... I'm not sure... Is this..erm..." I bit my lip after I stuttered so much. I wasn't even sure if I'm going in the first place—I mean, I literally told my friends that I'm not going. However, how can I say no when the cutie president handed me the ticket himself?

"You're the girl who gave Yoongi that drawing, right? He was practically bragging about it." He paused before leaning down—closer to me. "You think you can draw me too?"

My eyes widen and I felt my cheeks getting flushed. Lost in his eyes, by the way he tilts his head and the way the curve of his mouth lift in mischievousness.

He's such a charmer...

As much as I know from the information I gathered, he and Yoongi are friends. Jin is a year older than him—soon to graduate too. They get to know each other because Yoongi was a council member when he was still a junior.

Jin took my hand and I felt him placed the ticket on it. He shook his head and let out a soft chuckle before fixing his composure. "I was just kidding. Good drawing though. See you tomorrow, I hope." He smiled and waved a good bye to me before his figure disappears and blends with the other students.

I looked at the ticket in my hand. I'm not that sick to be unable to go for tomorrow but pretty sure that my parents won't allow me to go out that late.

"If it'll start at five then it'll end about seven or eight. They will sure beat us up if they find out that you sneaked out." Jungkook argued as he munched my chips on my bed. He knew I hate it when someone does that. He was literally testing how far I can go with this.

I huffed and took out the nice clothes and placed it on my bed. "Come on, Kook. Help me out for this one." I pleaded as I laid beside him and playfully squish his cheeks.

Jungkook grumbled something before he gave in. "Fine... And please, stopping doing that to my cheeks. It's not cool."

I rolled my eyes at him. I can't believe that he's starting to feel self conscious. Jungkook just used to be my slave, but now, he's getting older and still my slave.

"What am I even gonna get from helping you out this time?" Jungkook pouted as he munched like a pig.

"My PSP. All yours." I smirked as I took it out from the bedside table. "But only, if we won't get caught."

Jungkook sighed as he nodded. We pinky promised each other and went to discuss our foolproof plan.

I prepared my stuffs into my bag like my tissue, VapoRub, lip balm, camera, phone and wallet. I decided to take my old scooter that my parents never noticed that it was still there. It's way safer than taking a bus—less interaction with people whom my parents might know.

For tonight, I dressed up in my casual clothes— black camisole tank top, plaid flannel shirt—to cover me, and flared jeans that pairs my converse. Kind of a grunge style that I've been seeing on tumblr.

It wasn't really the ideal clothes but my parent can caught me if I'm wearing my usual cute clothes since it'll be easier for them to identify me, if we ever somehow cross paths.

I even put some hair extensions for highlights, just so I could look different. A gradient of black-to-red to match my look.

While I was getting ready, Jungkook informed me that everything is set. I smiled at him and nodded. It wasn't my first time to sneak out and asked Jungkook for help so I already knew this is going to work.

"Noona...take care, okay? Don't do drugs." Jungkook said in a rather more genuine tone.

Rolling my eyes, I playfully smacked his arm, "I'm just going to school, doofus."

"Well, who knows... You already look like you're using it..." he muttered.

Ignoring his words, I took another look at myself in the mirror, fixing a bit my hair, adjusting my makeup a little...and I'm all good.

Jungkook went downstairs first, checking if any of our parents were on the living room, if they are, I have to take the back door, but if they are on the kitchen, I will have to use the front door.

After checking, he went upstairs again to my room.

"So?"

"Eomma is on the kitchen and Appa still hasn't arrived from work." Jungkook confirmed.

It would be a big risk if I'm going to ride my scooter on the main road since we could cross paths, so I decided to take my secret route to go to the school.

The sun was still bright when I left the house. It wasn't really a surprise since it's Spring season. The days are longer and warmer than usual. The trees started to regrow and the flowers started to bloom too.

Most of the people symbolizes Spring as rebirth or a new beginning. I didn't really understand what they meant since I've never relate to that.

Fresh start to what? How do people even restarts their life?

On my way to school, my mind kept recalling the conversation I had with Jin. Aside from the way he looks and being a smooth talker, it made me wonder if what he said about Yoongi was true.

Did Neko really bragged about the drawing? I mean, that drawing was perfect. Out of all the drawings I made based on him, that one was the one...

I giggled like a moron while scooting in nowhere. Imagining the ways on how he bragged about it.

Despite of that, a doubt came over to me. "Or maybe Jin was just exaggerating..." I mumbled, still focused on my trail while riding my scooter.

It was just about time when I arrived at school. I went straight to the auditorium and so far, I haven't seen my friends—which is good. I already told them yesterday that I have no interest on going. They would laugh at me if they see me here.

What am I even doing here? I could've just ditch it...

I glanced at the ticket on my hand, looking for the seat number.

"Row G Seat 7?" I murmured as I searched for it.

While searching I felt a hand tap my shoulder, which made my attention turned to it. It was Jin. He was wearing a retro button-up—left unbuttoned—over his tee, loose jeans and sneakers.

"Need a help?" Jin smiled at me as he asked me if he could take a look at my ticket. "Oh, you're seat is on the middle row." He pointed where my seat is.

Great...middle seat. A perfect view for Neko to see me... pfft

"Oh... thank you." I smiled back and was about to go when he spoke again.

"Glad you came. Enjoy the show." Just as he was about to walk away, he glanced back, as if he had forgotten something. "Oh– Also, nice highlights." He snickered and went on his way.

After he said that, I just stand there—mind blank. Contemplating whether it was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.

Or it could be both.

Regardless, I felt my blood rush to my cheeks. After all, I'm still a teenager who likes to romanticize the life.

I sat on my seat and thankful that I knew none of the students near me. The show was about to start. Turns out that this is the program that was held every year for fundraising.

With that knowledge in mind, it made me wonder why the president gave the ticket to me for free.

He's not hitting on a kid, is he?

After a few more moments, the show started. The MCs were Jin—the president and Sandeul—his classmate. He wasn't member of the council but his skill being the MC and chemistry with Jin makes the show better than ever.

The performers really did great. Some danced meanwhile the others sang. It made me wonder what will Yoongi perform. There were some rumors that I've heard before that he likes to compose his own songs—mostly rap. With his quiet and calm demeanor, I've never thought he's the type to listen to hip-hop.

Maybe he'll rap one of the songs of Snoopy Dogg— whatever he's called.

After another set of performers, it was Yoongi's turn. Going up on stage, the other staffs helped him to lift and set his keyboard. My eyes widened at the sight, not fully expecting him to play a keyboard.

He was dressed in an oversize Nirvana shirt, black hoodie draped over his body, loose cargo jeans, and sneakers completed his whole look. His bangs falls on his brow making it look like it was newly trimmed.

Yoongi cleared his throat before speaking, "I made this song a couple of weeks ago so, it might still sound kinda bad." He chuckled and turned to look at his side. It seems like him and Jin were having a duet.

Yoongi started playing a few notes, his eyes were close—feeling every emotions as he played every keys. The way his fingers glides smoothly, hitting every note and the sound was so melancholic. He looks like a professional, his muscle memory working all throughout.

"It sucks when you don’t have anything you want to do

I know it’s pathetic to not have something as common as a dream, I know

You said to do as I’m told, that it would all be fine when I go to university

I’m the asshole for believing those words

I live because I can’t die"

He only rapped a few lines, yet I could feel it. The uncertainty, fear—the emotions I've been feeling every night before I fall asleep. It was just a few lines and I'm already relating to it.

"So far away if I have a dream, if I have a dream that flies away

Don’t fall away if I have a dream, if I have a dream that flies away," Jin sang his heart out with every lyric.

"The only thing everyone around me says is to come to my senses

I try to take out my anger but the only one here with me is me so what’s the point of venting" Yoongi rapped as he played the keyboard.

Every lyrics of his, stabbed me like a sharp knife. As the song goes on, I could feel my tears threatening me to fall.

"Dream, may all of creation be with you til the end of your life

Dream, wherever you are, will welcome you

Dream, may your trials end in full bloom

Dream, though your beginnings might be humble, may the end be prosperous," he sounded like he was whispering a thousand promises.

"So far away,

First love"

Yoongi's repetitive lyrics with Jin's melodic voice creates a harmonious sound that echoes across the auditorium. The sound was so melancholic, I could feel my heart ripping itself. While watching their performance and listening to his heart reckoning song, I couldn't help but to let my tears flow.

Our eye met.

His brow twitched—might've been confused on why I was crying.

I quickly looked away, looking everywhere but him. As I did, I saw everyone. They all somehow look... sad? To my surprise most of them could relate to the song. It seems like I wasn't the only one who is lost in this life. Everyone was going through it.

"I still can't believe I self-taught myself to learn one song to play on the piano just to impress him." I scoffed as I stared at the old piano on the corner of the house. "I didn't even get to show it off on him..."

I gently played the keys of the only song I know to play. Using my muscle memory so hard to remember every key of it.

A sudden tap from behind made me flinch a bit. I turned and was faced by my younger brother.

"Noona, let's eat," Jungkook smiled—a rather forced and bittersweet one. Every year, he's like this. Acting so awkward.

I nodded and followed him to the kitchen. As usual, my mom made my father's favorite food. A subtle reminder of what was this table used to be.

But all I see is poison.

A tight knot forms in my chest every time I'm in this house. I was the one who broke it, that's why I can't really blame my mom that she couldn't even spare me a glance.

It's already Spring. A new beginnings for the others—another season to continue this suffocating life for us. A constant reminder of what we lost. We never really had that "fresh start"—not even when I left for States.

Everyone told us to move on, but how can I when every time I close my eyes, I could see it—feel it. It was so vivid, it made my skin crawl.

I hate spring. Despise it even.

Why is everyone having the "restart" and "new life" while I'm still stuck on the past and it keeps dragging me back. Dragging me to its black hole until I feel nothing but agony.

We all gave our respect to the deceased before we ate in silence. The silence was so deafening, the tension was so thick—it could slice anything. Anyways, it was only normal. It happens every time in this day of the year. The only time when we all get to eat together is during our late father's death anniversary yet, none bothers to speak.

In the middle of our lunch, my phone rang. I peeked at my phone and saw Yoongi's number. I heard my mom sigh and turned it off immediately. We're already not on good terms and I don't want it to worsen.

I put it on mute for a while so we won't get disrupted. It might be just me but, I could still remember how my dad would always tell us to turn off our phones when we all eat.

Part of me wishes the he's still here to scold me... A big part.

After eating, I helped Jungkook on washing the dishes. We practically just spent the time on each other as our mom, as usual, too busy mourning.

The sun was about to set and I already planned to go home. I knocked on her door and went inside to bid a goodbye. After all, she's my mom.

"Eomma, I'll go now–"

"It's your father's anniversary and you can't even spend the rest of the day in your family's house?" She cut me off, still refusing to look at me.

Ignoring her words, I forced a smile and pecked her head. "Take care." With that, I just left.

There's no point of staying nor arguing. I'm already exhausted and pretty sure close on snapping. I have to breathe. Distract myself. I tried to recall what Yoongi told me to do whenever I feel frustrated.

Think of happy thoughts.

I tried to think—hard. But my mind was too occupied by the negative ones.

"Breathe... Inhale... Exhale... Just happy thoughts... Happy... Happy... HAPPY. FUCKING. THOUGHTS– UGH!" I groaned as I drove off with my radio blasting Happy by Pharrell Williams.

The song was on loop until I reached my house. It sure didn't help and only made me a thousand times more mad.

When I get inside, I went straightly to my room and threw myself on the bed. Too exhausted by today's event. After a long moment of silence and almost falling asleep, I remembered that Yoongi called.

I took out my phone from my pocket and mindlessly dialed his number. After a couple of rings, he answered.

"Hey." Yoongi greeted me in his oh so soft but deep voice.

"I just called back 'cause I didn't get to answer your call earlier. You okay?" I replied.

"I'm fine... What about you?"

"Just tired..." I mumbled in reply.

"I bought too many tangerines earlier and I knocked on your door to give it and I didn't know you left so... I'll just give it to you later."

I chuckled after hearing his reason. "Thanks. That's really thoughtful. You're being too good on this "good neighbor" stuff, huh?" I teased and I heard a soft chuckle on the other line.

"The sunset looks so beautiful right now." Yoongi randomly uttered which made me confused. "Go to your balcony. Promise, the view will help boost your endorphins"

I opened my window to the balcony and stepped outside. Across me, is a grinning Yoongi with his phone on his ear.

"Look at the sunset, not to me," he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes before replying, "You're house is literally right in front of mine. Not that I intended to look at you."

Another chuckle from the other side. His soft giggles are enough to boost my endorphins.

I then turned my head to look at the sunset. Yoongi was right, it's beautiful. The colors of the sky start to mix in beautiful hues of blue and red.

"If you were to choose, sunrise or sunset?" I asked Yoongi while my attention was still focused on the view.

There was a long silence before Yoongi spoke again, "I prefer sunsets. In contrast of sunrise being the symbol of new day, the sunset tend to symbolize that the day has come to an end. Everything's done already. Leaving nothing but serenity."

I hummed in agreement while appreciating the beauty in front of me. "You could be a poet."

Yoongi chuckled in response, "What about you? Sunrise or sunset?"

"Hmm... I dunno, both looks like an egg yolk..." I said in a rather genuine tone. And in my defense, it really does look like that. I turned to look at him and he was laughing—gummy smile beaming at me.

His laugh echoed through my phone. "Are you too hungry, Ms Jeon, to be unable to have a poetic conversation?" Yoongi teased.

"Ha ha, I'm no poet like you." Sarcasm filling my voice as I frowned at him.

On the other side, Yoongi raised his arms on surrender—in attempt to annoy me more. Then he composed himself first before speaking again, "Do you want to eat dinner together?"

I gave it a thought for a while. I'm not actually hungry and I don't think I have the appetite. However, Yoongi was looking at me—with hope? Hope that I would agree.

He must've been feeling lonely when he eats alone...

I was never really the type to eat every meal since I get too busy and not the type to eat while working. But with him—occasionally asking me if we want to eat together, I couldn't help but find myself enjoying those meals. I've always been a glutton ever since I was a kid, something that Jungkook and I have really in common. That's why in every meal, our parents would cook a lot. We eat at least five times a day in those times. But ever since it happened, every meal I had felt cold and sickening.

I smiled at him, "Sure, only if you'll cook."

Yoongi smiled back and nodded.

"You know what, we're like in that one music video of Taylor Swift, execpt that we're in the balcony and we use phones." I joked before hanging up my phone to change my clothes first before going to his house.

Once I changed into more comfortable clothes, I went straight and knocked on his door. Seconds after, Yoongi opened the door with a bowl in his hand.

"I was thinking whether to cook korean or western food. What do you think?" He said as he let me in.

We both went to the kitchen while still contemplating what to eat.

"I think I could use some western. I've been eating k-food since early in the morning. I just took a bite of every meal my mom made and it already made me full. That's how much she cooked." I groaned as I sat on the stool. "I think I've tasted every part of korea."

Slowly, I'm starting to open up on him more even if we don't have an appointment. But I still left out some parts that are just not meant to be told. Like for this one, I didn't tell him that it's my father's death anniversary and that is why I was at my parent's house.

Yoongi chuckled, "But I don't think you've tasted Daegu yet." He propped himself up on the table, leaning a bit before speaking in a teasing tone. "Do you know what's tasty in Daegu?"

Uh... You?... AHHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK WHY THE FUCK THAT WAS HOT AHHH FUCK FUCKKKK ME(?) KNOWING THE FACT THAT HE'S BORN THERE DOESN'T HELP AHHHH SHIT SHIT I'M GONNA SHIT AHHHHH

I kept a straight face in contrast of my mind that's going wild. "Enlighten me..?"

Yoongi shook his head and leaned back. Softly giggling, he took out some ingredients. "Maybe some other time. You want western then we'll eat western. You're my guest after all."

"Hmm... I'm surprised you still consider me as a guest."

He raised a brow and nodded—as if realizing something. "You know what? I should be actually charging you now."

I rolled my eye and pretended to attempt to leave. "I could always just go..."

Yoongi grabbed my shoulder and chuckled. "I was just kidding. You know you're my VIP"

I faced him and raised a brow.

"Very important problem," he shrugged and went back on finding ingredients.

For tonight, we planned to make a creamy pasta and steak. While making the meals, our laughs and giggles echoed through the kitchen. We tried so hard not to mess while cooking—refraining ourselves to start a food fight.

And for a moment, I felt at ease. The pain was still lingering but with him by my side, it's bearable.

The meal was served. We're sat on the stools beside each other, with wines on our hand, we cheered.

Yoongi raised his glass to clink his to mine, "To our..." he paused. "What should we dedicate this to?"

"Erm... future?" I shook my head, letting out a chuckle. "I dunno... anything's fine."

He nodded and raised his glass one more time, "To our friendship."

Before I could even react, he already clinked his glass to mine. Sipping the red wine, I only stared at him out of confusion. My mind was slowly processing his words. Too slow to my liking.

Friend? He's now considering me a friend??

A bright tint of pink creeps my face and when he noticed, I just blamed it to the alcohol. Yoongi was probably confused since the wine has a really low alcohol content.

"Uh... What's your thought about the taped banana on canvas?"

His question amused me. Pretending to think, I replied, "That it sucks. Honestly, I know that if I'll sell a blank canvas, some moron would buy it and the "experts" would interpret it as someone's life. Like how it reflects their mind—just blank. Your question is kinda interesting but also random," I chuckled and took a bite of the steak.

Yoongi rubbed his nape, "Sorry, I just don't know what topic we should talk about..."

It was still a wonder to me how this man is a psychologist, he could've thought of any subject yet, he wanted me to lead. Like he's playing safe.

Does he remember? Does he not want to say anything that could lead to that topic?

I placed my utensils down and thought for a bit on what we should talk about. "Well, uhm... What are you up these days? We haven't really talk that much ever since..."

My memory came back just a few hours after we came back from Mr Juanito's that day. Shame washed over me that I couldn't look at him for days—practically hiding from him at any cost.

"Just my usual stuff. Met some patients, spent my time on the clinic... Oh- That reminds me of something." Yoongi stopped eating as well for the meantime. "I didn't know you and Hobi were friends." He smiled cheekily.

"Sorry— who?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"Hobi. Uh... Hoseok."

Then it hits me. He was talking about the client I had a few weeks ago.

I clasped my hands and nodded, "Right... I remember him. Jung Hoseok, right?" I paused for a bit before asking again, "How did you know that we know each other?"

Yoongi gulped the food he took before speaking, "We were at our friend's party and he showed us a picture of you two."

"But we weren't really friends friends. He was more like a client of mine. I mean— he's a nice guy though," I explained. For some reason, I felt the need to explain.

He just made an "Oohh..." sound and didn't press the topic.

In the middle of our dinner, my phone vibrates through my pocket.

Why do people like to disturb me when I'm eating?

I took my phone out and saw the caller's ID. It made me frown upon seeing it.

"Jungkook?" I mumbled and answered the call.

"Noona, where are you? I'm at your house right now... and your car's here too." Jungkook said from the other line. He must've been confused since I always take my car wherever I go, unless I'm meeting a client with Jimin.

"You...Y-you're here??" I stuttered and it only made me sound more suspicious.

Yoongi glanced at me and I just gave him an apologetic look.

"Yeah... Eomma told me to give you the foods she have wrapped." Jungkook clicked his tongue before speaking again. "I can't believe you guys always make me the delivery guy."

"Just leave it there. I'm at my friend's house." I firmly said, wanting to end the call right away.

After a round of arguing with Jungkook since he's interrogating too much, Yoongi chimed in without even thinking, "You can just go to your house right now. It's just across here anyways and it seems like that's urgent." he softly chuckled and my heart fluttered at him being so thoughtful as always.

" "Across here??" Wait- Are you with your neighbor's house right now? Really, noona??" Jungkook laughed his ass out. He might've heard Yoongi's voice through the call.

Before I could even hang up the phone, he already did. It caught me off guard but relief washed over me soon after. Thankful that Jungkook's annoying ass stopped bothering me.

As I was about to take another bite of my food, the door bell rang.

"I'll take it." Yoongi stood up and went to the front door while I'm left in the kitchen—munching the food we made.

Not even a minute after, I heard him call out my name. I quickly rushed over him and immediately stopped my tracks once I saw the figure of the boy I've known ever since.

"Annyeong, noona!" Jungkook grinned. "You didn't tell me that Yoongi hyung is your neighbor." Walking inside and before he could even pass me, I grabbed his wrist.

"And where do you think you're going?" I raised my brow. If only those things in cartoon where characters let out flames through their nose and ears when they're mad are also visible in real life, the house would be burning right now.

"To the kitchen, where else? Hyung invited me over too." Jungkook tried remove my hand but my hold only tightens, "A-ah..!" he yelped.

Once I felt a hand on my shoulder, I released him right away.

"I uh... invited him. Yeah."

With Yoongi's soft response, I went back to the kitchen. Jungkook sat beside Yoongi—obviously avoiding me. Yoongi served him the meal and sat between us.

"So, how's the food?" he asked while slicing his steak.

"We cooked it together, of course I'd say it's great—the best even."

"Nah-uh, he's asking me, noona." Jungkook's remark made me glare even more at him. "But I gotta say, it's pretty good."

This kid is really testing the waters...

Yoongi tried to break the tension by clasping his hand in enthusiasm. "You're really grown now, Jungkook. It's been years since we met. I'm surprised that you still remember me."

"Hyung, how can I forget you when noona have her drawings pinned to her wall. That time when I saw you, I was surprised that the guy on her drawings actually exist." Jungkook snickered as he subtly eyed me.

He should be thankful that Yoongi is between us so there's only a little chance that I'll rip his hair. If there's one thing I hate so much about Jungkook, that's his big mouth.

The dinner went great. Filled with laughter, sassy remarks, and telling each others stories. It was a fun night, even if it wasn't supposed to be, knowing what day it is today.

After having dinner, we helped Yoongi clean the dishes, thanked him for the night, and went straight home—which is literally just across us.

"Did I ruined your date with him?" Jungkook teased as he plopped himself on the couch.

"Date? It wasn't a date—just a simple dinner." I clarified, plopping on the couch beside him.

Jungkook clicked his tongue—frowning at me. "You guys aren't..?" I shook my head which made him frown more, as if he was deep in his thoughts. "That's... weird. I mean—I saw it. The way he looks at you, the way he smiles-- I uh... Noona, did you know how many times I tried to get all of his attention to test him?"

"Yeah I saw you how you were such an attention seeker—but test him? Wha-"

Jungkook cut me off by exclaiming, "Exactly! Yet he always finds his way to look after you. Most guys wouldn't do that unless they're interested with the girl."

"He probably just didn't want me to feel left out since I was the first one he invited in the first place."

He groaned and grasped my shoulders, "Noona, he was giving you the looks!! I saw it!" Then he exasperatedly sigh. "Gosh how are you so oblivious?? I'm a man now and well, I uh.. sometimes, does that too."

I shook my head, not wanting to be deep in delusions. "Well, whatever you saw, you saw it wrong. Should I gift you some glasses?" I mocked, not playing with his games. Even I was surprised to hear these things from him.

Jungkook sighed and stood up, walking somewhere that leads to my room. "I'll sleep here for tonight. G' night."

"Stop right there, kid. You're leaving eomma alone tonight?"

He stopped his tracks. Turning back to face me, he pouted like a sulky child. It was one of his habits that he never realize he had. "As usual, eomma would just stay in their room. Besides, I already told her. If you're so worried, why don't you go to her?"

I threw a cushion at him, not expecting that he would say such thing. Especially that he knows my relation with my mother.

"Ouch-" Jungkook yelped when the cushion hit him. "It's been years, Noona. Don't tell me you still blame yourself. It wasn't your fault," he uttered and left to go to my room.

"I can't believe I still let this big guy share a bed with me..." I mumbled but my thoughts were still lingering on his words.

Is it really okay to accept that? Was I really not the one to blame?

Taglist: @choijay-07 @sanarin @yooforeaa @this-most-assuredly-counts @minniejim @amarawayne @peacenpigeons @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @rottingbedpost @emirawht

[ryan-masamune-of-oshu]

After I have no idea how many years I finally finished writing the last part of the Penpal Series!

[slavhew]

28/01/2024

stars don't twinkle moon doesn't shine

big thanks to @nahrgles for finishing this for me after i hit a wall with colors bg and effects- chromatic aberration blew my fkn mind

pre edit transparent version under cut because i spent too much time cleaning it loll

[cosmicheartz]

So uhhhhh might be bringing villain Clem back and possibly making it the main future au timeline

[meownotgood]

THAT'S 60,000 WORDS LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!

[icewindandboringhorror]

Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!

[seaofreverie]

Officially started writing down my thoughts on every Sparks album

[agena87]

There is a new photography expo at the Copperdale Museum of Modern Art, and Mal lent some pieces. (it's the first time for Wolfie's art to be featured in a museum, and not "just" an art gallery; Mila was so proud she cried)

+++

Find the whole series HERE.

[captain-amadeus]

He's having happy blooms today

[elftwink]

in final edits (!!) for precipice and first of all how come you always notice so many more random errors when you're doing final checks and its way more annoying to fix. second of all i am so scared to read it lol even though i already read it 700 million times before. what if it's been bad the whole time!! what if i hate it this time & its so cringe and i have to delete the whole thing

nah just kidding. it'll be up tomorrow. love you & peace out

[tonycries]

Sweetheart Online - G.S.

Synopsis. Isekai-ed into another world, or isekai-ed into your pants?! Gojo Satoru is in danger - in danger of losing his prized, otaku vírginíty, that is.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, otaku! Gojo, isekai, vírgínity loss (Gojo), chokíng, use of “ma’am”, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, begging, nerdy babbling, Gojo wears glasses, cúmming dry, first times, oraI (f + m), face-sítting, cúmming early, spítting, creampíes, cúmplay, p talking, cúmming in his pants, he goes féral, otaku vocab, truck-kun, anime nosebIeeds, Gojo is a LOSER, and so down bad for you, pet names, swearíng.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. IT’S HEREEEEE-

“Har har. hilarious, Suguru-”

“You know m’not joking, Satoru.” Geto’s taking an infuriatingly long slurp! of his ramen from the other end of the line, and Gojo’s known the man long enough to realize that he’s doing it solely to irritate him. That bastard. “You’re a loser.”

Ah, he’s never wanted to throttle him more. 

Because- listen, Gojo Satoru might be many things. 

He might be the proud president of the campus otaku club, rumored to have never even held hands with a woman his entire life. Complete defamation, of course, Gojo has held hands with his mother as a child. Though…she might be the only one. 

He might be the most annoying tenant at his cramped Tokyo apartment, every inch of it covered with enough of your pretty figurines that he’s taken to sleeping on the couch recently. But you deserved only the best!

And he might currently be the sketchiest man trudging down the streets of Shibuya at 3AM; with a brand-spanking new, life-sized body pillow of you tucked safely underneath one arm.

But that didn’t mean Gojo was a loser. Probably. 

So what if he got strange looks from every unfortunate normie soul he happened to pass? It was limited edition, and he waited eight hours in line for it!

After all, a man with such a prized possession could surely and undoubtedly never be a-

“-oi- oi!” Self-proclaimed best friend, and universally-proclaimed pain in Gojo’s ass grumbles into the phone. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Gojo’s registering that he’s already at that familiar flickering stoplight. Fingers curling even tighter in their tender hold around your form, he saunters down the barren crossing. 

He needed to get home - and he needed to get home fast! A man needs quality time with his wife, after all. 

“Don’t tell me you fainted from her ah- what was it- ‘sheer beauty and unparalleled sex appeal’ again?”

“That was one time and you know it.” He’s hissing into the speaker- honestly, Geto’s probably just cranky that he didn’t get his grubby hands on one of these before he did - Gojo’s seen the other man’s plushie collection of you no matter how much he tries to hide it. “This time, I only got weak in the knees.”

There’s a snickering drawl, “Oh yeah? What wondrous self-control, o’ maestro of virgins.”

And the title is so utterly ridiculous that Gojo finds himself stuttering into a shocked stop right in the middle of the gloomy asphalt. A laugh bubbling up in his throat before he remembers that that particularly sweet nickname was directed at him. 

“You’re a virgin too!”

Scoffing, “Yeah, but I don’t act like it. You, on the other hand, are famed for having your first kiss with the common room tv the moment you first saw that video game character. People were making bets on whether you were going to die a virgin, Satoru. Hell- I bet, too!”

Dammit, when you put it like that it makes Geto sound downright respectable. 

“Actually, she’s more than a video game character, Sugu—” Times like this, he’s letting his words simper out into a whine. Full and well knowing how much it’ll grate against Geto’s eardrums - hah, take that ramen ASMR! Smugly, Gojo pushes up his thickly-rimmed glasses, “She’s the revered princess of a distant land, first in line to rule over the throne with a gentle yet firm hand. Scouring the seas for the perfect consort that will-”

“Are you quoting her Wikipedia-”

“I wrote her Wikipedia.” Gojo huffs indignantly, as if anyone could ever assume anything less. “Because to me, she’s- she’s…”

And, truly, nothing he recited with MLA citations could ever describe you.

Because if there’s one thing that Geto was right about, it’s the fact that Gojo’s been completely and utterly head-over-heels for you ever since he first glimpsed an ad for Sweetheart Online - the hottest, filthiest romance game to hit the industry in the last few years. Maybe ever. 

With one love interest - as if he needed any other - you, and your hand in marriage that Gojo had fought rival after unworthy rival to win 143 times already.

He finds himself wracking his brain for any word in the existing lexicon to describe the perfection that is you. Though, it seems that he doesn’t have to think too hard at all. 

Because before he can even imagine letting the first few syllables formulate on his tongue, there’s a deafening-

HONK!

Gojo turns, only to see the glaringly white headlights of a truck hurtling towards him at full-speed. 

And the first thing he thinks is oh, it kind of looks like the spotlight that dazzles on you 1 minute and 24 seconds into the game’s Coronation Event. The second thing he thinks is…fuck.

.

.

.

“-highness—looks rabid!”

“—that’s rude, but…”

“-oh dear, put your sword down, Itadori.”

Gojo takes a few bleary seconds to pat himself mentally on the back for deducing that he’s died and made his way to heaven. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what Yaga says - he really is a genius sometimes.

What else could the delicate paintings of cupids and clouds on the staggeringly tall ceiling abovehead mean? He didn’t think that the heavens above had a fancy for Baroque - but who was he to judge? 

Certainly not when it seemed like he was sprawled out on a painfully decadent bed. Sifting among layers and layers of delicate silk that almost swallowed him whole - oh, it was fit enough for his figurine collection of you. 

A sharp crick shoots along Gojo’s neck when he turns his eyes towards what seemed like a towering window, wincing at the large glowing ball of light washing warmly over him. If he squinted his eyes it almost looked like…the sun?

Surely, he wasn’t a ghost then.

It hadn’t even been daybreak once that semi-truck had run him over, and even if he was to haunt anyone then it would be to bug Geto into plastering his collection of your posters all over his gravestone. 

And the final piece of celestial evidence being a soft, soothing tone ringing in his ears and already becoming his favorite new song. Coming from the mouth of an angel peering down at him who looked - lo and behold - like your very spitting image. 

“Oh…” It comes out in a hoarse, scratchy gasp. All the air knocking out of his poor lungs once you inch in mere centimeters closer to his glassy view. He can’t help but reach up a trembly hand, “You’re even more beautiful in 3D.”

SMACK!

Gojo flinches when his hand gets knocked away unceremoniously by someone else’s- there were other people here? “You dare attempt to touch the princess? After revealing yourself in her chambers? I should call the guards right now-”

Now, he didn’t know much about the afterlife, but he was sure that demons weren’t allowed in heaven.

“It’s quite alright, Nobara.” The angel speaks up, and oh, it’s not even his name being said but Gojo already feels his heart leap a little and suddenly wishes it was. “Judging by the state of his clothes it seems he’s not from these parts. Maybe he’s lost?”

Gentle hands are suddenly bestowed upon his to softly pull him up, and before he can open his mouth to undoubtedly blurt out something stupid, there’s a ringing PING!

Jumping just about a foot off the bed, he’s scrambling to stand as a strangely robotic voice speaks from somewhere overhead, “Milestone: Touch a Girl reached. System activation successful! Congratulations, user [Satorulovesprincess]. Welcome to Sweetheart Online.”

If the group in front of him heard anything, then they didn’t show a sign. 

Very much the opposite of a thoroughly panicked Gojo, flailing his head towards the source of the noise until his eyes meet a holographic screen hovering just a few inches over his head.

As if something pulled right out of one of Geto’s favorite trashy sci-fi films - fuck being in heaven, he was probably still on those Shibuya streets hallucinating and causing an incident.. 

Gojo treks down a hand to pinch his forearm, just a little harder than necessary when the voice booms once more-

“Quite ingenious, user [Satorulovesprincess]. However, we assure you that what you are seeing is real.” The screen displays those exact words in time. “You have initiated the execution of the system, and are now bound to Sweetheart Online.”

“System- Sweetheart Online-” Great, he’s going mad. Running his hands through tousled locks of cloudy white, “Don’t tell me…don’t tell me this is like one of those shitty isekai anime.”

Oh god it all made sense - the truck, the system, the truck. And Gojo’s watched much more than enough cliché isekai anime with the otaku club to realize. 

But…a truck? Seriously? That’s embarrassingly overused. 

It’s like a pit of ice forms at the bottom of his stomach. He bet that no one but him could see the glaring screen right now. A fact he was especially glad for once the following words roll out-

“Following your sudden and extremely inexperienced death, Mission: No-Longer-Virgin has already started.”

Whispering to himself, “So this is where virgins go after death. Some sort of purgatory perhaps in which the last wishes of the virgin are materialized- although that doesn’t explain the presence of- wait-”

“Good luck, user: [Satorulovesprincess]. May your virginity collapse, and your sex life prosper!”

If Gojo didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn that the disjointed voice sounded amused. 

But wait- no, it wanted Gojo to lose his virginity? His long-held, precious, maiden virginity? After twenty-something years, how crude that this ah- mission marrs his delicate body. Did the system think that he was some sort of harlot to-

“Are…are you okay, strange sir?”

Okay, maybe losing his virginity wasn’t all that bad.

Turning back around slowly, “I uh…”

And this wasn’t quite how Gojo imagined meeting you - glasses askew, hair rumpled, in the very same ratty hoodie and sweatpants he’d camped outside the anime store in - hell, he never thought he’d meet you in general. 

But then you smile, and Gojo falls onto his knees. Right then and there on the polished floor.

You were exactly as he’d seen on-screen. Brows quirking upwards just a slight cheeky degree the same way it did whenever his in-game avatar said something particularly smooth. Gorgeous. The silken skirts of your ball gown looking oh-so-soft to the touch but not as soft as you-

“Your highness, on top of being a madman, he drools at the sight of you!” A younger girl shrieks - Nobara Kugisaki, your trusty attendant, he remembers. Hastily wiping his lips, “Kindly consider having his skull impaled.”

There was nothing kindly about having his skull impaled, and Gojo’s already clutching his head when you chuckle. “Your name?”

Ah, he’s forgotten how to speak. Forgotten how to breathe. “G-Gojo Satoru- my princess- your highness.”

“Apologies, I’m not sure what foreign ambassador you are, but I do welcome you kindly to our kingdom.” You’re letting your eyes roam all over his still-kneeled body, and in them glittered something…dark. 

Sliding over your hand and oh! Gojo remembers this.

He’s drinking in that delicate floral scent of yours, dragging his plump mouth to meet the back of your hand in a lingering kiss. The very moment his lips touch you, Gojo feels lightheaded.

And only after pulling away does he realize exactly why-

“Ah! He’s bleeding!” The young man - your loyal knight, Itadori - yelps, and Gojo’s clapping over the warm wetness smearing over his lower face. A nosebleed? Really? Just from kissing your hand? God, Geto was right - he really is a loser. “Should I call the healers, your highness?”

“No we have him drawn and quartered for such an unseemly display-”

“Nobara, that’s quite alright.” You’re waving off, smooth marble floors resonating out sharp clacks! when you walk even closer. Close. Too close. Until you’re seated on the edge of the bed, “After all, it is my consort choosing ceremony. Isn’t that what you’re here for, Satoru?”

Gojo thinks he could faint at the way you say his name - and he almost does. 

Scrambling towards you, he’s fully kneeling at your feet now. You’re so beautiful - so real - that pearly beads of tears dot his fluttering lashes. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

He swears he hears you mumble cute under your breath. Now he could really faint–

“Oh? And I intend on fulfilling the wishes of my guest.” Speaking somewhere over his shoulder, “You two are dismissed. Lock the doors.”

Kugisaki is, unsurprisingly, the one to protest. “But- but, your highness he’s-” And, honestly, Gojo can recognize the raw expression of what the fuck in her voice. He doesn’t blame her one bit. Not when you tip his head up further to face yours and his nose twitches like he’s about to start nosebleeding all over again. “...pathetic.”

Ouch. Gojo was on the verge of spoiling the ending to her character’s backstory when you’re humming. “I like them pathetic, Nobara.” 

Did he mention you were an angel?

“So…” You’re luring him in, and just that heady lilt of your voice already makes his cottony grey sweatpants tight. Shit- wasn’t this the type of situation that he wrote secret fanfics about?

Barely hearing the creaky SLAM! of the double doors to your royal chamber. Clouded pants waft over your satisfied features, he’s peeking up at you over his large spectacles. Lolling closer and closer-

Mumbling, “Yes, my prin- oh!”

Gojo’s pouted strawberry-pink lips wobble cutely when the golden points of your heel dig into the fleshy mound of his thigh. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing, “Y-your highness?”

“What’s this about a-” Watery eyes widening wordlessly when you’re sliding it all the way up, up, up along the shockingly curvaceous muscles to press right down on the straining inches of his fattened cock. Needy. Bulging. “-virginity loss mission-” Hard. “-Satoru?”

And Gojo doesn’t know what comes first - that sharp inhale at the realization, or him.

Fist flying up for him to sink his pretty pearly whites into when he’s biting back a whimper and cumming.

You could feel the way that Gojo’s sloppy mushroom tip was just bawling with every lazy grind up and down his sappy slit. 

Milking out the thick, goopy ribbons being sprinkled from his rounded mushroom tip. Volumes upon volumes. So much of it. That warm texture clinging against the flats of your shoe and puddling out mushy dark splotches into his sweatpants.

Shit. Shit shit shit - cumming just from that. All in front of the woman of his dreams. Part of him almost wants to apologize.

But the way your mouth curls into a sleazy grin makes Gojo’s heart race, every minute action only keeping his achy length even harder. 

He so can’t help himself from grabbing your calves to halt with a few twitchy fingers - only to be going against his own yearnings. Hips humping yours once like a fucking dog as his breath hitches, “You- you know?”

“Awww, of course I know, Toru. I can see the screen.” Fuck- he hopes you can’t feel the wet splat! of another buttery wad of cum being dolloped out generously from his depraved divot. Leaning in, “S’this the first time anyone else has ever made you cum?”

He knew you were teasing - he knew it. But that doesn’t stop Gojo from panting out a strained, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, well-” You’re tapping your chin in thought, despite already having made your decision. But it was just so fun to see this beautiful man shivering and pleading on his knees. “I don’t know where you transmigrated from but…I still am a benevolent ruler, after all.”

He gulps. Cupping one flushed side of his face, Gojo’s practically a steaming hot mess of putty in your hands. “And I can take care of that little virginity business for you.”

Croaking out, “P-please.”

“Hmmm, not good ‘nough.” You’re rovering down even further to press a slight smooch of pressure against his fatly filled-up balls. Thighs squeezing at just how big they were - breeder balls. “Is that how you speak to your princess?”

“No- no no no-” Gojo’s shaking his head so hard that it makes him a little dizzy, or maybe that was the way that you were fisting your determined digits into his faded hoodie. “Please…ma’am.”

“Much better.”

Before he can even blink, he’s being dragged upwards according to your every want and whim. Thrown onto the bouncy king-sized mattress with such strength- of course, he shouldn’t even be surprised. You are the future queen for a reason, after all. 

In fact, he’s never skipped a single cut scene that showed you training your battle skills-

“Now now, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?” Your voice drifts its way into his melty mind, words so sugary sweet that he could almost taste them. “At least gimme a lil’ kiss now-”

And it’s more than anything he could’ve ever dreamed of.

Muffling back a muted yes, Gojo’s surging upwards to clash his lips into yours. And oh shit, just-now realizing that he’s lost his first ever kiss. 

Then his second. His third. His fourth.

It’s messy. It’s hot. 

Tugging you even closer with a forearm around your waist. Gojo’s sloppy tongue is licking its way past your ravenous entrance, fucked-out bubbles of spittle pop up at the edges of his pursed lips when you’re breaking away-

“N-nooo-” He’s letting off a shuddering whine, chasing after you with a sluttily half-parted maw. “Gimme- wanna ‘nother kiss, princess.”

So greedy. The fat curve of your thumb positions itself on Gojo’s prettily dimpled chin, prying open his dewy lips even further. “Open that mouth f’me, Toru?”

He’s doing exactly what you’re saying before he even realizes it. The glistening muscle of his tongue splayed-out perfectly on display for you - for you to spit out a heavy mass of saliva right onto his pinkish tastebuds. 

Gojo moans at the contact - and you can feel it before he does. The subtle jolt of his weepy cockhead, before your languidly gyrating kneecap is dampened with another wiry slather of cum. Warm and wet. 

“Cumming again?” You coo, eyes darting between the ever-growing pool of a frosted mess between his long legs, and his face. Gojo looked so pretty like this - glasses sliding down his button nose, eyes shuttering with each heaving pant - gasp. Face flushed and slicked with a slight shimmer of sweat, stray locks of white curtain and stick to his reddened forehead. He looked so pretty. “Just from that?”

He’s squirming his depraved hips to smudge a faint glaze of seed down your mounds of flesh, one palm dancing upwards to stop himself from having a nosebleed all over again. “C-can’t help it…The average time of ejaculation for a man is five to seven minutes based on psychological factors and age. And as a healthy young man just because I-”

You’re shutting him up with a kiss, and Gojo almost wonders why more people don’t do this time - that is, until he remembers they’re not you.

“Sounds pretty serious.” You’re nodding, a mask of teasing graveness taking over your face. Swiftly shuffling down the seemingly endless expanse of the bed. Doughy fingerpads delicately hooking onto the hem of his drenched pants, “Better get a taste before you run out, then.”

Gojo lets out such a breathy pant at the implication, “N-no it won’t, considering the volume of the seminal vesicle and- ah!”

Whatever drunken rambling of his is cut very, very short as soon as you tug down those useless sweatpants and let Gojo’s red, painfully angry cock smack! against his abdomen with a wet smear.

He was so…big.

Such girthy, solid inches upon inches that twitched needily right before your very eyes. A rummaging, left-leaning curve being nestled above two pretty pink balls. 

Your mouth waters once you’re curling your fingers dexterously around his plump circumference, making his cerise cockhead waterfall out in another lazy sheen of pre. It’s honestly a bit of a strain to even get your fingertips meeting each other properly with his incredible size, and that just makes you want him more.

Gojo’s knitting his ivory brows nervously, “S-s’it okay?”

It’s more than okay.

And you’re about to show him that.

Cerulean irises crossing together until they were all heart-eyed when a saturated coating of your saliva tops his bloated tip like a layer of icing. Before he feels himself fall in fucking love just at the gummy peck of your mouth onto the rotund ends of his length.

“W-woahhh—” He’s breathing out, eyes locked lecherously right with yours when the steaming hot cavern of your mouth sinks in more and more and more- “This- what- fuuuck-”

And then you’re huffing out a slight chuckle through your nose, hitting his drenched base and making him keen. Slender hips of his lurch the perfect angle off the luxurious bed to bump his mountainous head against the very back of your throat. 

Gasping - begging. 

“You’re seriously gonna…take me?” Prattling through clenched teeth as you grace him with a few more flooding masses of spit. It makes him feel so used. Feel so good. “Like you- you’re gonna put me in your mouth?”

“No.” You’re snickering at the utterly crestfallen look on his face, full mouth downturned, puffed-up tip tinting an even more blasphemous red as if to tempt you. Your fingers tangle with his to claw at the crown of your head, “You’re gonna put yourself in my mouth.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Shit-” Gojo whispers - more to himself than anything. “You can do this- can- can do this- just suck on m’cock-” Rubbing out a translucent lipstain all over your ajar maw before plugging his proud girth inside. “Please- wanna know what it feels…”

Gojo can’t remember what he was saying. What he was thinking. 

Because just a few vulgar sucks of your tenderized mouth around his inflated cock and he’s drunk. Fuck dying by a truck, he was about to die just by this. 

Head lolling all the way back against the poofy pillows, white-hot bliss flashing behind his eyes and- when had he even closed them?

“Wh-why does it feel so–” he’s clenching his jaw, dredging out every single ounce of will in his being to peer at the heavenly - hah- sight below. “-so- good- c-can it feel so good- hngh- please-”

Gojo’s drawing up the hem of his hoodie to cover that brightly blossoming blush. So adorable. He even tasted sweet, like the best of salted caramel that made you infinitely want more. 

Your salacious tongue is repeatedly wetting down his lightning bolted veins. Up and down up and down up and down to draw little hearts on those bumpy lines. 

His sobbing cockhead mushing back into the velveteen walls of your mouth, and Gojo could cum just from the voluptuous curve being outlined into your cheek. He’s finding it almost fucking impossible to grunt out over the raw squelches! emanating from where you were making out with his throbbing cock, “Must be illegal- that’s it! It f-feels so good this must be- ngh- outlawed.”

You’ve rendered him stupid. And he’s so hot and heavy in your mouth, it makes your core stir up to think that you’re the first.

Every choked-up plea only resonates off of the numerous corners of your bedroom even louder once your fingers latch onto the gluttonous curve of his fattened balls. Squeezing-

“S-so dirty- so dirty, princess…” And part of Gojo doesn’t know why he’s letting his traitorous hands wander onto the back of your scalp. Doesn’t know why he’s plunging just a few more inches past your prettily-pouted lips - you were his princess and he was…not treating you like royalty.

The Gojo in this game had always been so smooth. So suave. Taking his sweet, sweet time to hold your hand and talk to you about the politics of your kingdom.

Right now he was curving his thick thighs to flex around your shoulder and feeding you every saccharine inch you could possibly swallow up. “Can you- can you take more? Take this biiiig fuckin’ cock?”

You’re being choked in a locked hold by his powerful legs, and you’ve never been wetter. Practically puddling out a syrupy pond on the sheets underneath you.

Tugging out the thick nub of his thumb to smear those honeyed splatters of his precum at the corners of your mouth, you can only grin as you let your sentence translate into thrumming vibrations. “Mhmm— Settling into it s-so well, aren’t ya, Tooooru?”

“F-fuck!” Gojo’s blushing tip glides shyly down the tight back of your throat, rovering all along each n’ every millimeter of space inside you. It only made your head bob faster to imagine how he would feel down there- “Don’t talk- don’t talk. Please don’t talk s’gonna make me…”

But you.

Oh, Gojo Satoru has read your character profile over 2489 times by now.

He’s memorized every factoid and morsel of knowledge there is to know about you - so of course, he should’ve known. Should’ve realized that babbling away those words would only make your sultry motions increase.

“Cum f’me like a good boy.”

And he does. 

You can only watch in awe when a pearlescent globule of cum gumdrops from his weepy orifice, one. Two. Three. Until Gojo was just drenching the entirety of your mouth with thickly viscous coatings of seed, until you were just drooling with a wadded mess of spittle and seed.

Salty flavor dripping down your tongue and flooding out. So much of it. Too much, Gojo was spurting out the thickest ribbons of creamy white as if he’d never cum before - and doesn’t plan to stop any time soon. 

More, more, more like it was the sound of your voice making him shiver. Making him whine like a zillion volts of electricity was running down his greedy spine. 

The moment you pull away, hefty oodles of cum hit Gojo’s toned abs with a wet splat! And your dear subject is wrangling out his hands towards you like he never wanted to let go.

“No- no! Please- please come back-” Crinkling tears trek their way down his dewy face, sensory pads of his fingers reaching out for you desperately, only for you to part away. “N-need your pretty mouth on me.”

You’re raising a brow, thumbing over his still-crying divot, “But don’tcha want something…else, Satoru?”

“Something- else?” He’s rasping out haltingly, head thoroughly swimming with nothing but you. Your heart glows with pride at the way he can barely form coherent sentences, “What…oh.”

But Gojo gets the idea soon enough when you’re hastily shedding away your outer robes. He fumblingly tries to help, of course, but the simple idea of helping a woman undress is too much for him - and he’s banished to simply watching you, one hand held underneath his nose in case of another…incident. 

Gown and undergarments hitting the floor, your gorgeous legs come to hike up, up, up- driveling mouth falling slack the moment they’re ending up rested on either side of his intoxicated head.

“Oh.” He wheezes intelligently up at your glistening cunt.

“Nothing else ta say?” Your heady purrs only make him blush, nuzzling his feverishly burning cheek against the spattered sheen of slick at your inner thigh. He’s making such a mess on purpose. Making himself a mess. 

“Well-” Gojo bats his long lashes up at you dangerously, clear planes of his glasses digging into the handsome apples of his cheeks. But he didn’t mind. Couldn’t even feel anything but the sweltering heat of your arousal. “-jus’ that- I want you to spit in my mouth, princess.”

And the very moment that sugar-coated sap, Gojo moans.

Eyes flickering shut at the taste of himself - the taste of you. A candied little tinge that he oh-so-badly needs more of - and without even a second of hesitation, he’s stuffing himself right there between your pretty legs. 

It doesn’t matter the rhythm. It doesn’t matter the rhyme. 

And Gojo doesn’t even know any - the very moment your puffy lips are meeting his kiss-bitten ones in a French kiss, he already knows that your cute cunt has taken him hostage.

Jaw clenching as he tries to memorize all those fanfics he guiltily read night after night, Gojo’s bumping up his cloudily condensed glasses further up his nose when he leaves one kiss. Two. “Ohhhh, your pussy tastes s-sooo good.”

And they each get messier and messier after the other. 

Letting the heaping dollops of your juices flood onto his roughened tastebuds, he’s letting his long tongue peek apart your gluey pussylips. Sliding the very tip up and down and round n’ round your slicked entrance. 

“The- the oh!” Gojo flinches just as your body arches even deeper once he pokes his fat muscle past your tight ring. Leaving such a slew of wet slurps with every drag, he was dirty. “-according to what I’ve read, th-the clitoris is found at the top of the vulva. It should be located where the hah- labia-”

His words cut off with what you swear sounds like a strangled whimper when you harshly fist your digits into his silken-soft strands and push.

And you don’t notice it at the time, hell, even Gojo doesn’t notice with just how ruined he was right about now. 

But the sole moment you’re manhandling him to your will makes his flushed crownhead geyser out a torrential of cum. 

Fountaining out waves and waves of seed that paint his hefty base with a frosted ring. Such thickened volumes for the nth time tonight. Just from the roughened way that you were pushing him to make out with your pretty pussy.

He wanted to be used.

“Used, huh?” You’re letting out a murky pant of laughter- fuck, did he say that out loud? “Wanna be u-used, Satoru- wanna keep that big mouth of yours hngh- full?”

He’s nodding. Nodding and nodding and nodding with every sloppy gyration that you bestow all down his features. Huffing and puffing through every gasping breath he manages to shudder in, he’s shooting out a good mass of saliva. “Yes- ride me. Ride me. Fucking ride my face. A-always wanted you to ride me- hngh- please.” 

And how could you deny him when he’s all begging like that?

Gluey ropes of spit and slick lacquer Gojo’s chin like a smooth polish, and he’s sticking against you like he was just as clingy. Jaw grinding against your kinetically moving pussy, the pointed edge of his nose weaves from between your leaky slit and ends up pressing right onto your clit-

“O-oh!” Your head tumbles backwards with an ever-tightening grip onto his sweat-dampened locks. “Yeah- right there–”

“Here? Here?” He sounds like he couldn’t quite believe it. The ravenous edge of his thumb curling right up your soppy slit and pinning down your hooded clit. Hard. “The glans clitoris r-right here. And I found it- I found it.” Breathing out a long whistle that makes your heated skin bristle with goosebumps, “I always wondered what would h-happen if I…”

You barely even have the time to react before you’re staring at the glisten of Gojo’s sharp canines sneaking up to your sensitive nub and biting.

And he didn’t expect this.

He didn’t expect it to be better than the fanfiction-

Because your generous cunt just cascades in another jet of sappy juices, glazing Gojo’s features sexily all the way from his dimpled grin up to his glasses. 

They’re dripping wet, waterlogged with treacly film of slick that forces him to gawk up at you from below with such a loving gaze. Just the way he’s peering up at you is enough to make your breaths hitch.

“Gonna- gonna write about this, y’know? H-hope you know that this changed my hah- fuckin’ life, my princess…my girl.” Gojo drawls out lazily, movements as slow as if he was slipping through molasses when he sinks the rounded tips of his cushy fingers into your slick-flooded entrance. “Gonna h-have you for breakfast- for ah- lunch…aaaand for dinner.”

With a pitchy whine, you’re tightening your hold onto his thick locks and mushing his face so close. Close enough that you could already feel the mushy pout of his lips and that lazy chuckle.

Only then do you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. Mouthing off until you’re making both his chilling frames and his regal nose clash at the target of your clit with every repeated swivel, each glissading snog of his tongue making you throb. 

Everywhere. Anywhere. Everywhere and anywhere that he could reach.

“Such a dirty boy, huh?” You muse, swearing that that only makes him even sloppier. “S’that what you are? Ngh- bet you’ve never tasted a p-pussy before, huh?”

“N-nooo- haven’t. But are they all so…fucking delicious?” And he’s lapping up every sensual ounce, not letting even a tiny speckle go to waste. Because Gojo Satoru was kissing your pretty pussy like he could only dream of those long, lonely nights. 

You were a fucking dream - his dream.

The full force of his desperation hitting you when Gojo’s letting his drunken head loll ever-so-slightly backwards to take a good, long admiring look at your cunt. And you wonder if he could even see with his glasses all sodden and filthy like that. 

You wonder if he even realized when he’s leaving a lingering swat! of his plush fingertips right onto the bullseye of your pulsing button, and then another few at your fleshy channel. 

And it was so unfair how he was pummeling your poor gummy walls with swipe after swipe of his eager fingerpads working your glutinous walls open. Probing his neatly manicured fingers perfectly into your most tender spots. “Like that?”

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re mewling at the tautly coiling build-up at your cunt. Further and further. You felt like you were about to snap. “-is- is this my first time or yours, Toru–”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And Gojo’s palming his engulfing hands over the jiggling mounds of your ass to drag you like some ragdoll even deeper onto his sloppy maw. You’re forced to slap your hand onto the royal headboard to get at least some semblance of balance. “Jus’ want you- need you.”

Gawping up at you - he looks just as fucked-out as you feel. Blushing oh-so-innocently with his lecherous mouth slithering to steal a loud mwah! planted onto your salivating pussy. And then a final, weighty wad of spit. “Need me to be yours.” 

With a final, trembling shove of Gojo’s pretty face pliantly against your hot core, you’re cumming. Riding out your peak with stuttering rotations all over his lolled-out, bumpy tastebuds.

“Fuh-fuck!” You didn’t even care if you were getting his glasses messy at this point - he’d already made enough of a mess out of you. Embarrassingly so. “S’s-so good. Hah- gotta put your mouth to work more o-often, Satoru.”

And you can’t stop the way that your jaw parts into a soft oh! every time he pinches your bulbous clit at the very tip of every single one of your peaks. Right on time. More on sheer animal instinct than anything because Gojo’s still reeling from the fact that he made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

He made you cum.

Babbling away just as stupidly as he had mere moments before, your orgasm is…magical. None of these haughty princes or dukes could ever compare to this. “S-such a good ngh- boy f’me.”

That is, until you feel Gojo tenderly curl his fingers around one of your stray ones to form a fist. Nudging it against one of yours in a…fistbump? 

“You have…no…fucking idea.” He’s letting out a drenching ptwah! of spittle, all the masses and rivulets of your sickeningly sweet juices sliding all the way down his tongue and pooling at the back of his throat. Like he always wanted your taste there.

And you’re still feeling the twinging tremors down your spine, flurries of stars bursting behind your hooded lids when he lets his sinfully long tongue slather your fluttering cunt with another hot kiss. 

Nose crinkling at how you’re stagnating your vigorous cadence, he bats his lashes up at your shocked stare - and you already know what his sapphire gaze is begging for before he even asks.

“Toru-”

“More.” Gojo interrupts you - and he knows he’ll beat himself up for it later. Maybe he’ll even…make it up to you. But for now, the only thing replaying on his cottony mind was just how perfect you looked cumming all over his mouth - even the specially-paid NSFW scenes didn’t go into this much detail. 

He was in heaven. 

You feel the humid brush of his tongue between your saturated pussylips, pleading. Begging. “Wan’ more- wanna taste you more, princess- please-”

And Gojo looks so fucking heartbroken the very moment those lips part with such a wet slurp! A low whine curdling at the back of his throat, his glossy lips curve downwards into a jutted-out pout.

He’s chasing after your pussy with absolutely no shame, greedy fingertips digging into the curve of your ass while he nudges you closer and closer. Stealing tiny kittenish licks, stealing longing whiffs just to smell the scent of your pussy.

“No- no- want- please-” He’s rambling away, half-lidded eyes widening with alarm. Like you were taking away his favorite dessert right from under his nose, and Gojo was not having it. 

But you knew a thing or two about ruling. 

And it’s with such smug satisfaction that you get to push down a wolfish Gojo so hard he collides back onto the mattress and bounces. 

Giggling - giggling, “S’this mean I get to…fuck you now?”

Oh, it’s spoken like a mantra. A true confession that he never even imagined would come out from those lips of his. 

You’re nodding, “Mhm— m’thinking that good boys get to hah- fuck me.” 

He’s ogling you right now when you meander between his milky legs just as you did before. Except, this time, you’re stopping right at the defined v-line of his sculptured hips. Darting thumb rubbing back and forth over the pooling streaks of cum from just before. 

“Did you cum without me ngh- again, Toru?” You’re teasing, and he almost feels so pathetic the way his mouth latches onto the curve of your sheened digits and sucks. “That’s not what a good-”

“I am I am-” Gojo insists, brows furrowing. He’s so unsure what to do, so unsure what to even think other than looping his arms around your waist to tug, tug, tug you ever-closer. It’ll never be enough. “Promise I’ll be a- ngh-”

Shit.

Your fingers shackle a tight grip around his pale, prespired neck. He looks so gorgeous squirming underneath you like this - squirming for more, that is. 

“Then you better promise to fuck me really good, Satoru.” Your whispers come out in a honeyed tone that wafts against his reddening ears. Maybe because of that, maybe because of the way your nails claw marks, you feel his plumpened head twitch. “Really good.”

His head lolls all the way into your grasp, he was done. Murmuring, “I’ll be a really, really good boy- ma’am.”

That did it.

And before Gojo knows it, you’re letting his syrupy mushroom tip slip in a few thick inches with ease. Geysers of his pre trickling out from between the tight stretch of your gluey hole, sinking in more and more.

Gojo’s mouth opens with a slow leak of drool with just how warm you were hugging him from the inside. Your candied walls so fucking clingy that he finds himself choking out a huff, planting two steadying hands on either side of your waist and pushing-

“Oh fuck- oh fuck.” His eyes grow adorable wide, stare perched right down where he was disappearing in and out of you in mindless, rapid ruts just to bully himself inside. “Th-this feels nothing like my P-Pocketpussy3000-”

“Toru…” Your words come out in a growl, crescent nail leaving neat indentations on his column of skin. 

“J-just feels so much better, my girl.” Gojo insists, something swirling deeply in his eyes that makes your heartbeat irregular. “You’re so…so warm and- and wet. That stupid rubber could never compare to the adventitia and musclaris and- and I’m really fucking you.”

He is. 

He was, at least until only a few vulgarly deep strokes probing in about halfway down his swollen shaft makes Gojo bump his ridged slit against one of those spots. The globe of Gojo’s proud cockhead leaves a hefted thud! that thunders pure bliss into your fuzzy head and makes you clench.

And it makes him cum. Again.

Wet spurts of warm seed splashing into each n’ every inch inside of you and filling you all the way up to the brim. There’s so many of his copious ribbons sloshing around inside of you, and it doesn’t even make Gojo’s tempo slow down.

It doesn’t even make him falter. 

“Sh-shiiiit-” He’s hissing, lower lip worried and fussed between his teeth until you were sure he’d be drawing blood. “Cumming—!”

Dipping down a few fingers to part your soppy lips, Gojo’s thrusts get more relentless when he catches his eyes on the steady waterfall of cum and slick seeping into his hoodie. Fucking the webbed mess deeper - but it only wrings out more pearly wads streaming down. 

Gojo’s voice wrenches out from the very back of his throat in a stubborn mewl, just about five octaves higher than you’re used to. “I came…inside.”

The one n’ only warning you get before he hooks an arm around the small of your back and flips the two of you over. Easily. 

Back sinking into the velvety bed-covering, your spine arches in a geometrical semicircle off the mattress as Gojo takes the blasphemous opportunity to bottom out. His meaty tip finally meets the target of your spongy cervix, breeder balls clashing stickily into the split end of your folds with a hulking thwack!

And you’re almost wondering at just how it was possible that Gojo - nervous, bumbling Gojo Satoru who’d never even held hands with a woman before - had the willpower and strength to overpower a seasoned fighter like you.

But that’s when he tugs his utterly sullied hoodie off and you’re rendered thoughtless. Mouth watering at the toned ridges and curves that bulged all over his Herculean body.

Gojo wasn’t just toned - he was fucking jacked.

And all yours for the taking.

Just your greedy stare is enough to wash his cheekbones with a scorching blush, as if he wasn’t near-nine inches deep inside you already. You gasp when his tongue pokes out to catch a few dripping splat! splat! splats! of your slick still dripping from his glasses. “I-I read in a director’s cut that you like men with abs so I…” 

And before you can even respond, his hips do all the talking for you. Striking your own with a deafening pap! of skin-on-skin, broad pecs heaving with a sharp inhale as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Wasn’t in control. 

Two of his doughy palms veer underneath your now-jittery thighs and hoist them up effortlessly to dangle over his shoulders. 

Gojo’s letting off a low grunt when his curvaceous knees slide wider across the pricey bedsheets. All the while mumbling, “N’ just because m’a hah- virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two. Like- I saw this thing ngh- o-online called a…” Bending you like a pliant lawnchair down, down, down- “-a mating press.”

Online? Mating press? You didn’t know what he was rambling on nonsensically about now, but maybe you could excuse that with the fact that he was stretching you out stupid. 

“What a pretty boy.” You’re managing out, fingers unsticking a few strands of pearly white plastering onto his forehead. “Now s-stop teasing and hngh- fuck me.”

Your words are jolting such a dark, primal part of his brain. Eyes hooded, teeth pulling back with a low whimper of ah! The bed sings out a protesting creak when Gojo’s hand comes slamming! down onto the poor frame. Spitting out, “I-I can’t stop…fuck- I can’t stop. Won’t-”

He’s pushing and pushing his ravenous hips in animalistic little humps, the cylindrical shape of his cock swabbing in sultry circles around your gooey insides. Already splitting you apart snugly to the brim, but still he’s drilling in for more.

“You hafta move, Satoru-” Even your most gentle tone is enough to make his strawberry divot sugarcoat you in a thickly viscous few spatters of pre.

And when he talks he sounds wild, “Do I- haaaah- do I really hafta move? Jus’ wanna lose my virginity like this. Wanna stay inside you forever and ever and ever.”

He was already pussydrunk.

And it’s so cute it makes your heart clench. All over six feet of him melting into you by now; head heatedly shoved against the crook of your neck, motions glissading a slip n’ slide of his sexily defined abs pinned to your front. Powerless. 

Gojo blinks up at you through thoroughly hazy eyes when you tilt his face back up to face yours, and the deep eye-contact makes him blush. 

“But I really, really wan’ you to hah- fuck me.” You pout, and you already know by the stutter in his labored breathing that you have him wrapped around your cute lil’ finger. Jostling your hips in a slight buck, “Look-she’s begging for ya already.”

Oh. 

“Is- is she really?” Gojo sighing out in surprise, eyes pondering down to where he was making your puffed-up pussy folds bulge. Slipping out a gasp before he’s clutching onto his nose to stop any more bleeding.

Your slobbering lips coated with a glimmer of his spit and cum, so very his that Gojo finds himself subconsciously nodding along to the sappy squelches bubbling from below. 

“Yes- yes you’re right–” Propelling a slow drag of his hips to sweep every hidden orifice of yours inside, “Oh! Ya got l-louder- so you agree-”

He’s hiking up your legs even further up his shoulders, interlocking them with one massively flexing bicep held behind his head. Eyes still locked below - only then do you realize that he’s not talking to you. 

And then again. And again. And again and again until Gojo was striking your poor cervix with repeated battering rams of his plump cock. Dense balls stinging against your ass with ringing thwacks. Spherical bruises of his circumference being indented over n’ over it’s like he doesn’t even realize. 

Didn’t even know he was doing anything other than wrenching out the most sinful noises from your goopy pussy. 

“Mhm- such a pretty ngh- pussy.” Spitting out the very word like it was embarrassing, two sizeable fingers latch around the plump peak of your clit. Transfixed. You wondered whether he even remembered his own name. “Such a pretty clit.”

“Fuck!” You’re halfway through sobbing when he sends shockwaves of pleasure all across your body. And even more so when one tilted drive of all his inches leaves a skidding skim down the area of your g-spot. “There- right there, Satoru-”

He’s gaping up at you as if suddenly snapped out of a hypnotic trance, only to fall into an all-new one. Disbelieving mouth parted slightly, he breathes, “I’m…fucking you. I’m actually- ohhh fuck m’fucking you- like really, truly. This isn’t a dream.” Like he just realized - and he just did. “M’giving you my cock- making you t-take alllll of it-”

Never in his life did he think anything could ever feel this good. He was never going back. He would never be the same. 

Your drooling pussy was molding around him so nicely, taking onto the very shape of his long shaft. Massaging every inflamed vein poking against your splashed walls, so warm with the leftover puddles of his own sticky cum.

 He’s worshipping you, tilting his head to place a heady trailway of wet kisses down each of your ankles. “M’yours so m’-” Then your calves, your tits, your collarbones, everywhere and anywhere-

“-m’gonna make feel h-hah good.” His nose scrunches with focus, a few fat ends of Gojo’s fingers come down from pinning your ankles to splay out on your tummy. All bloated with his thick outline that even through his fogged-up glasses, he swears he could see a bulge. “Need to find it- need to.”

Pound after pound being placed desperately onto everywhere he could reach inside of you. You can feel the baking hot swash of his sap coating you in a second skin. Each dab of his ballooned crownhead leaves behind a marking bead of buttery pre. 

And maybe it was the way you’re feeling the slow trickle of all his sappy torrentials inside you, but you’re gurgling out a little, “What- what are you-”

“The g-spot.” Gojo answers your messy blithers of syllables with a tender rub onto your clit. Though, he wasn’t too far behind himself, if the way his digits trembled told you anything. “It’s s-supposed to be somewhere in the hah- anterior vaginal wall, between your pretty hole and the urethra. Often said to be stimulated about a few inches ngh- up-” 

But this time, you’re the one cutting him off. With a rapid, deprived rut that bustles his left-leaning curve to head in a jackhammer precisely towards your bulging g-spot. 

And then you see white. 

Perhaps from the sheer shock of him leaving a good French kiss that tenderizes your sweetest hidden coves, perhaps from the way that the both of you are cumming. 

“Shit- shiiiit-” You’re perking your ass to smack against his in lewd little paps, half-formulated moans flooding your mouth with each delicious thrust being planted right onto that spot. Gojo’s fucking you through each of your edges, over and over until you feel yourself crashing back-to-back into not one, not two, but three orgasms. “Really did fuck me- hngh- ah-”

Before you even realize, you’re throwing your arms around Gojo’s rippling shoulder muscles to claw a few artistic lines of red. And he loves it- fuck, it makes him cum even harder. 

“S-spit in my mouth, ma’am.”

And when you do, he latches onto yours with a messy, messy open-mouthed makeout. Groaning around his second-favorite activity of sucking your cute tongue - his most favorite activity being fucking this depraved cunt of yours. 

Cumming and cumming until he physically can’t. Steady rivers of seed logging up whatever remnant space inside your snug cunt before he sputters out sheer nothingness. 

A shiver wracks through Gojo’s body with the way he was cumming dry. And once he spies down a few whipped globs of it spilling out to form a velvety ring around his base, he’s plugging your leaky entrance with a few free fingers.

Lapping up that trickling excess with a slow suck peering right into your eyes before he seals you with his jostling digits back up again.

“Love it- love it love it love it-” He’s letting loose with each spasm of parching cum overspilling your flooded insides, those ribbony meshes swirl all around his pumping cock and trickle down in a creamy stream. Coating his twitchy balls no matter how much he tries to make you milk up every ounce, so much of it. Hot. “Love it- love being your good boy- I love you.”

Gojo’s heart races when you only plant a cute peck onto his sheened glasses, and then another onto his mouth. Resting your sweaty head against his very own, “How would ya like to be my own royal consort, Toru?”

Ah, it was virtually a proposal. To stay by your side forever and ever and ever - the only thing he’s ever wanted, really.

And Gojo’s about to kiss your awaiting lips senseless as an answer- that is, he was about to before both your ears chime with an undeniable PING!

Before an agitating, gratingly familiar voice rings across your heady atmosphere, “Congratulations user: [Satorulovesprincess] on completing Mission: No-Longer-Virgin!” You’re wincing at the sterile glow of that screen once more. “Please await the new updates to the program Sweetheart Online.”

And you both barely even have time to register those words before there’s a thunderous creak! from the empty space of your royal bed.

Except…the bed wasn’t so empty anymore. 

Right with your heated proximity was a man - a beautiful man. All long legs, and inky hair that ran down to his slender waist, twinkling amethyst eyes rounded in the exact same shock that shone in Gojo’s right about now. 

“Suguru?”

“Satoru!” Before he’s tilting his head towards you, and perhaps most glaringly, the way that Gojo was still scouring deeply inside you. A delicate blush tints his - Suguru’s - high cheekbones, voice cracking embarrassingly at the end. “P-princess.”

And something about his tone made your cunt quiver - just in time for Geto to shuffle the tightening crotch of his pants. Something that Gojo noticed, if the way he was crushing you to his body even tighter said anything.

“Let me guess-” Gojo tilts his head, a sleazily drunken smirk curving the edges of his ruddied lips. “-the truck got you haaaah- don’ squeeze me like that, my girl– too?”

“It- it was ramen poisoning actually…” Geto’s deep baritone trails off, struggling to rip his eyes away from you as the screen flickers once more. 

“Sweetheart Online updates completed! Commencing Love Rival (Three’s Company) arc. User: [Sugulovesprincess] joined.”

A/N. MAN I love loserboy Gojo hehehe- hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[elephants-are-cool]

has changed just a little after typing the tags.

Made an Apple White ship tier list in honour of some of the dumbest fandom discourse I've seen <3

[qoldenskies]

THE 50 THOUSAND WORD MARK HAS BEEN BREACHED I REPEAT THE FIFTY THOUSAND WORD MARK HAS BEEN BREACHED

[missdynamighttt]

happy birthday to the love of my life, katsuki bakugo. hope he enjoys his gift for his easter birthday: his favorite little bunny.

it had started with a birthday plan. well—technically a birthday easter plan. the odds of katsuki bakugo’s birthday landing on easter sunday weren’t high, but fate had a sense of humor. and you? you had a sense of drama.

you’d already given him gifts for his birthday. his letter—handwritten, sealed with a kiss, full of sharp sarcasm wrapped around soft, sappy sentiment you’d never admit out loud.

he read it quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed, thumb brushing over your kiss mark at the bottom. his brows furrowed in that way they always did when he was feeling too much but didn’t want to show it.

“you’re such a damn brat,” he muttered, voice thick, eyes refusing to meet yours. “but… you write good shit.”

“don’t cry, tough guy.”

he didn’t look up, just folded the letter carefully—too carefully—and tucked it into his nightstand drawer like it was something fragile. precious.

“shut up,” he said, voice rough. “you’re lucky i like your dumb handwriting. even if it looks like a drunk squirrel tried to learn cursive and gave up halfway.”

“aww. that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“don’t push it.”

he reached out, grabbed the front of your shirt, and yanked you into a rough, lingering kiss that left no room for misinterpretation. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“best fuckin’ letter i’ve ever gotten,” he murmured, low and soft like a secret.

a few small gifts were scattered on the dresser: limited edition all might merch, a new hoodie he’d been eyeing for a while (that he absolutely knew you were going to steal), and that spicy snack mix he always hoarded like a dragon with gold.

he stood there, arms crossed, doing his best to look unimpressed, but the way his ears turned a little red gave him away.

he eyed the merch first, holding the figure up with a raised brow. “…you been stalkin’ my browser history or somethin’?”

you grinned. “nah. just love you enough to pay attention.”

he shot you a look—equal parts flustered and fond. “tch. hoodie’s mine. you’re just gonna steal this in two days.”

“i give it one,” you said sweetly.

he looked at you, eyes soft but unreadable. “still wearin’ it anyway.” then he found the snack mix. “you didn’t eat any, right?”

you gasped, mock offended. “i would never.”

still, he leaned down and kissed your cheek before grabbing the snack mix and tearing it open immediately.

the cake? well, it was slightly lopsided, the frosting uneven, but it was made with love—and caramel with cinnamon. he didn’t say much when he ate it, just grunted, grabbed a fork, and took a second slice without a word.

you hovered awkwardly nearby. “so… good?”

he chewed slowly, gave you a deadpan look. “tastes like love and poor frosting skills.”

“rude.”

he grinned, leaned over, and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. “still the best fuckin’ cake i’ve had in years.”

“you say that every time.”

“yeah,” he said, mouth full. “and i fuckin’ mean it every time.”

now, though, it was time for the real present.

so when he walked into your shared bedroom after a long morning of birthday messages and half-assed hero paperwork, the last thing he expected was you, perched pretty on the bed.

pink bunny ears twitching with every little movement you made. a tight, pastel one-piece hugging your every curve. sheer stockings accentuating your thighs, and a fluffy little tail pinned to your lower back like a gift-wrapped tease.

katsuki stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he took you in.

you sat perched on the bed, legs crossed, every bit the picture of flirty confidence. your gaze was locked on his, unapologetic.

“happy birthday, katsuki,” you purred, lips curling into a sly smile.

his crimson eyes dragged over you slowly, deliberately, his tongue running over his teeth before he finally spoke. “the fuck is this?”

“what’s it look like, hm?” you stretched out, back arching just enough to show off your curves. “figured i’d... hop into something special for you.”

his jaw ticked. “you think you’re funny, huh?”

“a little,” you admitted, shifting onto your hands and knees, crawling toward him at the edge of the bed.

his eyes darkened as you closed the distance, your hands sliding up his chest when you reached for him, kneeling in front of him. “thought you’d like a cute little bunny to play with, birthday boy."

katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, grabbing your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his gaze.

“you know what happens to dumb little bunnies who tease too much?”

you swallowed, trying to keep your confidence, even as the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine. “they get spoiled rotten?”

“wrong. they get fucked.”

a thrill shot through you, heat pooling in your stomach as he crowded closer, his other hand slipping down to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“bet you thought you were bein’ cute, puttin’ this on. bet you thought i’d let you bounce around and tease me all night.”

you let out a breathless giggle. “bunnies do like to bounce…

his fingers trailed down your back, playing with the delicate ribbon lacing up your tail before giving it a sharp tug. you gasped, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

“that so?” his lips brushed against your ear. “then let’s see how long you last when i really make you bounce.”

he took you in—your ridiculously boner-inducing ensemble, the way your chest rose and fell a little faster, the anticipation in your eyes. then, with slow precision, he sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

"come here," he ordered, voice thick with authority.

you swallowed, your body already thrumming with heat as you climbed onto his lap. his hands settled on your waist, thumbs stroking your skin through the sheer fabric of your stockings. he let you hover there, deliberately drawing out the moment, making you feel the power shift between you.

"go on," katsuki murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he guided your hips to settle against him. the heat of him pressed against you, even through the layers between you.

your breath hitched as he held you there, letting you feel just how hard he was, how much he wanted you. his grip was firm, unwavering, making it clear that he was in control even as he let you take the lead.

he shifted, leaning back to watch you straddling his lap. his hands slid down, gripping your hips, guiding you to grind against him—slow, deliberate, teasing. the heat between you was undeniable, the layers of fabric doing little to hide just how affected you both were.

you whimpered, trying to tug your bodysuit aside, reaching for the bulge pressing up against your core. but his hands stopped you, fingers curling around your wrist.

“uh-uh,” he hummed. “not yet. little bunnies gotta hump first.”

you whined softly, frustration bubbling to the surface as you squirmed in his lap. “katsuki, please—”

“please, what?” he cut you off, voice sharp, mocking. “please fuck you already?”

you nodded desperately, biting your lip.

he scoffed, his expression darkening as his hand shot up to tangle in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat.

“i said hump,” he growled. “that needy little cunt doesn’t get filled until you earn it.”

you tried to slow, to catch your breath, but his hands were relentless, grinding your hips against the hard line of his cock beneath you.

his fingers dig in as he helped you move. every time you tried to slow down, his hands tightened, forcing you to keep up, forcing you to take it.

you barely had time to catch your breath before katsuki pulled you forward, burying his face between your tits.

“fuck, you’re soft,” he groaned, tugging the fabric away before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking hard.

you gasped, back arching as heat shot straight between your legs. his teeth grazed your sensitive skin before his tongue soothed over it, his other hand coming up to knead your other breast.

you tried to keep moving, to keep bouncing, but between his hands gripping you and his mouth marking you up, your body was giving out, shaking from the overwhelming pleasure.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, hands tangling in his hair, tugging.

he growled against your skin, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips glistening. his smirk was feral, eyes burning with satisfaction.

“hm? thought you liked to bounce?” his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, a warning. “or do i gotta fuck you like the greedy little thing you are?”

you whimpered, hips bucking desperately along with a nod. he laughed, licking a stripe up your chest before capturing your nipple between his teeth again.

“that’s it,” he praised, voice strained. “knew you’d look so fuckin’ good like this.”

you sobbed, rolling your hips, desperate for more, and he grinned like he’d won. you weren’t sure how long he made you keep going, but by the time he finally took the reins, you knew you were fucked.

“aww, poor thing,” he cooed mockingly, pressing a hot kiss to your throat before nipping at your skin. “tired already? guess i better take over before my little bunny gets too worn out, huh?"

before you could respond, he shifted, one arm wrapping tight around your waist as the other yanked your bodysuit to the side, finally giving you what you’d been aching for.

the thick head of his cock pressed against your dripping entrance, teasing, pushing just enough to make your breath catch.

nails digging into his shoulders, your legs trembling as he eased inside—slow and torturous, filling you inch by inch until your walls clenched around him.

katsuki groaned through gritted teeth, holding you still for a second, letting the stretch overwhelm you. then his eyes flicked up to your face, and that familiar, dark grin curved his lips.

“you wanted to be a cute little bunny, huh?” katsuki grunted, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you as you bounced on his cock. “bunnies fuck like crazy, y’know that? they go at it all night long.”

you could barely respond, your moans breaking into gasps as he thrust up to meet you, driving deeper, harder, forcing you to take him to the hilt every time.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he taunted, voice thick with amusement. his fingers dug in as he guided you, making sure you didn’t slow down. “thought bunnies were supposed to be full of energy.”

you whined, gripping onto his shoulders for support, trying to keep up with the brutal pace he was setting.

each bounce forced his cock deeper, the obscene sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room. you whimpered, legs shaking as he controlled your pace, refusing to let you fall back into lazy movements.

he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear. “put on the ears, shake your ass, act like a toy—and now you’re surprised i’m treatin’ you like one?”

you sobbed, clutching at him, body trembling from the overwhelming mix of pain, pleasure, and the pure, filthy thrill of being used exactly how you wanted.

“good fuckin’ girl,” he rasped, slamming up into you harder.

your moans were broken, breathless, every movement sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. your hands clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as he thrust up to meet you, filling you so deep it made your head spin.

your head fell against his shoulder, body shuddering as pleasure built higher, hotter. his arms wrapped around you, keeping you flush against him as he took control, lifting you just to slam you back down, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.

every time your pace faltered, he’d lift his hips, thrusting up into you so deep it stole the breath from your lungs. a whimper slipped from your lips, fingers digging into his chest as you tried to keep up, but he wasn’t making it easy.

“what if i fill you up, huh? make sure this bunny knows her fuckin’ place?”

he suddenly slammed you down onto him, making you cry out, and he groaned low in his throat. your nails raked down his back as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, but he wasn’t letting up—not when you looked so fucked-out and desperate.

“gotta train you better,” he muttered against your skin, his smirk widening when you clenched around him. “bunnies are supposed to breed, aren’t they?”

you let out a broken moan, body shuddering, and he laughed breathlessly, one hand slipping down between your bodies to rub tight circles against your clit.

he was gripping your waist before flipping you in one fluid motion, pressing you down into the sheets. his breath was hot against your ear as he settled behind you, caging you in.

“aww, don’t tell me you’re tappin’ out already?” he cooed, tilting his head. “and here i was thinkin’ i’d finally get to see you breed like a proper bunny.”

heat shot through you at his words, making you clench around him, and katsuki groaned, his grip on you tightening.

“oh? you like that?” his grin widened. “shit, maybe you are just a dumb little bunny in heat.”

you gasped, nails dragging down his back, and his hips suddenly snapping up to meet yours, driving deeper, harder—sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

katsuki didn’t give you a second to breathe. toes curling against the sheets, your vision blurring as he fucked into you harder. the slap of skin echoed through the room, punctuated by your gasps and his low, hungry groans.

“that needy little pussy’s fuckin’ leaking,” he growled, dragging his fingers through your slick before pressing them against your clit in tight, punishing circles. “soaked through that slutty little costume, too.”

you choked on another moan, face buried in his chest as your body shuddered, everything building—tight, unbearable, right on the edge.

“gonna cum like a dumb bunny while i fuck you full? huh?” he taunted, pulling your head closer by the ears on your head and forcing your back to arch deeper.

“yes, yes, katsuki, please—” you sobbed.

“beg for it. tell me what you fuckin’ want.”

“i want you to—want you to cum inside, need it, need it so bad, katsu—”

“yeah?” his thrusts faltered for only a second, a low, wicked groan slipping from his throat. “wanna be bred, huh? wanna be my filthy little bunny full of cum?”

you cried out, so close it hurt. “yes! please—please, fill me up—”

his grip tightened on your hips as he slammed into you one final time, deep, brutal, until you screamed his name. your body convulsed, pleasure crashing through you as you clenched around him, falling apart.

“take it. every fuckin’ drop.”

katsuki growled low, and then he was spilling inside you, hot and thick, hips jerking with each pulse. he buried his cock twitching deep inside you as he spilled hot, thick spurts into your clenching walls.

you whimpered as you felt it, the heat of him flooding you, dripping out before he’d even pulled out.

katsuki didn’t let go right away. he held you there, impaled and filled, his breath ragged against your shoulder. he stayed pressed against your chest, panting, one hand stroking slowly down your side as the other cradled your hip with surprising gentleness.

“shit,” he muttered against your skin, lips brushing your shoulder as his breath slowed. “fuckin’ hell..”

you snorted, too tired to do more than flop your face into the sheets. “that what you wished for when you blew out the candles?”

he chuckled—an honest-to-god laugh rumbling from his chest as he finally eased out of you, warm stickiness following in the wake.

“didn’t know i could wish for somethin’ i already had.”

“wow. look at you. getting soft in your old age.”

“twenty-six is not old,” he grumbled, but the faint blush on his ears betrayed him.

you hummed teasingly. “sure, grandpa.”

katsuki shot you a warning look, but instead of snapping back, his hand came up to card through your hair, bunny ears askew and all, his fingers surprisingly gentle.

“so... did the costume make the top ten birthday presents list, or…?”

katsuki huffed out something between a laugh and a groan, finally pulling out of you slowly, both of you flinching a little at the oversensitivity.

you felt the mess between your thighs instantly—sticky and warm, dripping down your skin—and you shivered at the loss of him.

his hands never left your body as he shifted you gently onto your back, reaching for the nearby towel he’d tossed on the nightstand earlier—because of course he was prepared, even if he pretended not to be.

“top three,” he muttered, wiping you down carefully. “right after the cake and that dumbass letter that made me feel shit.”

you flopped onto your back with a dramatic sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “didn’t think birthday boys had to do cleanup.”

he shot you a look as he gently dabbed between your thighs, taking his time, making sure you were comfortable. “birthday boy’s the one who ruined you, so yeah—he fuckin’ does.”

you smiled, soft and real this time. “you’re getting sappy in your old age.”

he tossed the towel aside and climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you, pulling you into his chest like it was instinct. “yeah, well, turns out its not too bad when i’ve got a stubborn, sexy weirdo wearin’ bunny ears for me.”

you laughed against his collarbone. “you’re lucky i love you.”

katsuki kissed the top of your head, nose brushing against your ear. “nah. i’m lucky you’re mine.”

“and i’m lucky you’re easy to distract with cake and tits. y’know, i was actually gonna jump out of a giant egg and yell ‘surprise!’ but i figured you’d actually murder me.”

“you’re not wrong,” he said, arm tightening around you. “and you look better in that stupid bunny suit anyway.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“say that again and you’re spendin’ next year’s birthday with a vibrator and a guilt trip.”

“worth it.”

he glared at you before he stripped you, hands moving with familiar precision as he pulled off the bunny ears, the one-piece, and the stockings that had barely survived his earlier onslaught.

without a word, he grabbed one of his old t-shirts and slid it over your head, the fabric swallowing you up, before he joined you under the blankets.

you felt his gaze on you, warm and intense, and you looked up at him, brow arched. “what?”

he stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he took in every detail of you—maybe still a little in awe, maybe still a little surprised at the way you fit against him. his fingers lightly brushed your hair away from your face.

"god, i love you. so fuckin’ much, baby.”

your heart did somersaults. but you nuzzled in closer to him.

“i love you too, old man.”

“tch. shut up and go to sleep,” he grumbled, brushing a kiss over your cheek.

but as you started to drift, wrapped in his warmth and the lingering high of everything, he murmured, barely audible:

“best fuckin’ birthday ever.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAN 💗💗 omgomg i apologize for the blogs i couldnt tag, blog name wouldnt come up for some reason😭😭 I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THO 😝😝 please consider this my 4k special lmao (its only fitting sinces it 4/20 and shi), instead breeding kink with katsuki is 5k special!! would like to thank this request (one of the few first requests i had when i started this account), hope this fulfilled your request somehow!! 💗💗

⋆˚࿔ tags ˚⋆ @kodzubaby @akiii143 @mindless-existence1 @dollyfetti @st4ntwic3 @skylermiller1 @sugarcubepop @jazzywazzy859 @jealousmartini @kksmush @2elusional @ch3rryjampi3 @happinessisabutterflie @thirstygorl @zennypiee @kiansss @dullcets @kirishimasboobs @jo8920 @vrtualghoulz @inlovewjay @grim-reapers-wife @just0jordyn @ettesxythia @quixtic @whorecityyy @izayanara @valeriannnnnn @hanako-0kun @lmaolmaolmao @raining4food

[rumisgf]

❝ YOUR BEST EATER ! ❞ ╰┈➤ AOT EDITION

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: rating how well aot men would eat you out ! (this is canon because i said so)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: eren yeager, onyankopon, connie springer, jean kirstein, armin arlert

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: smut of course, crack, cursing, oral f!receiving, mentions of squirting, cum play if you squint, black!reader

EREN YEAGER - 7/10

✮ now i know y’all remember that one ao3 fic with the tongue piercing that went viral…

✮ yeah that was propaganda

✮ now listen listen— i’ll give him his flowers and he is good in bed

✮ but giving head isn’t his specialty

✮ BUTTTTT when he does eat you out, he makes you cum every time

✮ he spits on it :)

✮ in general his speciality? good dick

✮ he’ll eat you before he fucks you, but he can’t last too long cause the sight of you dripping has him rock hard

✮ one time you squirted while he gave you head and he swears he almost came in his pants

“so fuckin’ wet…”

“m-mm~!”

“jus’ a lil longer baby… need you nice and ready for my dick..”

ARMIN ARLERT - 8/10

✮ now him? head is definitely his forte

✮ there’s times he won’t even fuck you he just wants to taste you

✮ he whines.

✮ the vibrations of him moaning on your clit definitely sends chills down your spine

✮ and please, sit on his face

✮ he genuinely gets so pussy drunk and he stopped caring

✮ he just needs to taste you

✮ the feeling of you dripping on his face is addictive to him

✮ he just loves when you’re on top— whether it’s on his dick or his face

“please baby…need to taste you..”

“mhm? lay down for me then.”

JEAN KIRSTEIN - 6/10

✮ don’t shoot me i’m just the messenger

✮ i just feel like he would be too… rough… at first

✮ he generally likes rough sex so it’s just natural instinct to him

✮ butttt, when he does get the hang of it, it does feel good

✮ he just needed some practice

✮ he is good listener, i’ll give props for that

✮ the head is never terrible but he just can’t help but to wanna torment you a little it’s his favorite hobby

✮ he bit your clit once though. you had to smack him for that.

✮ he makes up for it though because the D is FIREEEE🔥🔥🔥!

“o-ow…jean wait..”

“sorry baby, got a little carried away…tell me how you want it, yeah?”

CONNIE SPRINGER - ♾️/10

✮ HE’S AN EATER!!!!

✮ he might as well tattoo ‘proud munch’ on his lip atp

✮ this man has skills that you have never seen before and he will have you whipped from how much you cream and squirt every time he goes down on you

✮ he’s so mean too… but in the best way possible

✮ you have an attitude? he’s eating it. you stressed? he’s eating it. you look good? he’s eating it.

✮ he doesn’t even have to spit on it with how wet you get

✮ he’ll eat it with your legs bent to your ears, from the side, from the back, on his knees, have you sit on his face, all that.

✮ he eats it before he puts it in by the way.

✮ and after. he’s nasty.

“ohmy- fuckkk~”

“i know baby, stay still… i’m not done witchu..”

ONYANKOPON - 9/10

✮ he just likes making you feel good

✮ he takes foreplay very seriously, so he likes taking his time with you

✮ he’ll definitely overstimulate you though, he thinks it’s fun

✮ he likes when you squirm it only turns him on more

✮ in contrary, he’s very sweet with it and does it to make you feel his love

✮ definitely big on body worship

✮ he’ll start off slow and massage your thighs while he tastes you

✮ his favorite thing is licking you clean after he already made you cum on his dick or with his fingers

“mmm~.. baby..”

“so pretty like this..just keep moaning f’ me..”

© rumisgf

[slapmeshigaraki]

౨ৎ "Are you scared, sweetheart?" ౨ৎ

♡ warnings: meanie!sylus x reader, spit, gunplay, daddy, condescension, improper evol use lmao, actually pretty tame ngl the dirty talk is kinda gross though, sylus is out of character in this in case that bothers you

♡ a/n: okay i lied and said i wasn't posting this until later in the week, but i finished editing it early so... idk happy valentine's day i guess. another old fic that i just edited. enjoy pretties !!

♡ Sylus doesn't ask you for much other than to leave him alone for a few hours on Sundays so he can clean his gun collection, but after a few interruptions too many, he decides that you can stick around just this once. Afterall, maybe you can help? ♡

“What is it?” he said after letting out a deep sigh, not bothering to look up at you through the lenses of his glasses. They sat loosely against the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his lap, softly polishing one of his most prized possessions: a gun. You weren’t sure whose death he’d pictured on the other end of it, but he treated it like the last bite of dessert, savoring it, keeping it hidden away for a special occasion. No one could touch it, look at it, breathe on it, except him. When Luke and Kieran gave you your first tour of the house, they wouldn’t even walk you down the hallway of the safe, scared that ‘Boss would smell your scents when he returned.’ It wasn’t until months later when he’d decided that your firearm wasn’t up to par any longer that he’d invited you in to 'shop' for a new one. That’s when you saw it, hung up on the wall in a glass case so high that only he could reach. It was wrapped in a fine silk fabric, a pristine black cherry gun whose make or model was so far beyond your pay grade that you’d never heard of it before.

Every Sunday he disappears into the safe for hours before dinner. He was not to be disturbed. It was the only thing that he was really particular about, but he needed it just to clear his head—some solace after a long week. So, the fact that you were interrupting him for the third time with a knock on the door was grating, to say the least.

“Nothing I just-“

“Is something on fire, darling?”

“No, Sylus.”

“Has someone managed to break into the house?”

“No.”

“Has Mephisto spontaneously combusted, leaving a feather lodged into one of your eyes?”

“No.”

“So, you can clearly see that I’m busy? Then I’ll ask again, what is it that you need?” His eyes still wouldn’t meet yours, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke, his tone strained.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted rice or mashed potatoes for dinner, but since you’re so caught up in tending to an inanimate object, I’ll decide for you.” He was snippier than usual, the darkening of his voice making it obvious he was not in the mood for witty banter.

“Be careful there, sweetheart. I’d hate for that pretty mouth to get you into trouble.”

“Or what? Will you get trigger happy and let that precious gun go off? No, of course not because we must keep it clean for a hypothetical threat that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Kneel.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. It was a command, an order barked at an underling.

“Go fuck yourself,” You said, venom in your voice as you made a move back towards the door, hand clenched around the golden handle.

“If you make me get up to come catch you sweetheart, you’ll be sorry.” His eyes met yours for the first time, a fiery crimson illuminating your line of vision. His gaze was dark, challenging you to disobey him. When Sylus told someone to do something, they did it and you were no exception. You might bite back once in a while, but he always knew that you’d do what he told you to at the end of the day.

So, you kneeled, perhaps too slowly because it wasn’t before long that your knees were forced to buckle beneath you, Sylus making good use of his evol to bind your ankles together. The cool marble tile flooring chilled your flesh as your heartbeat ran wild, your mouth getting wetter with each second, practically drooling as if you were waiting to sink your teeth into your favorite meal. In the same breath, your hands were bound as well, moved behind your back against your will and stuck together like glue.

“Go on, crawl to me.” There was amusement staining his expression, a sinister smirk plastered across his face.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Can’t you get to me? A big strong girl like you with such a dirty mouth, surely you can move just a few feet on your own.” You relaxed your legs, letting your knees spread apart to rest them.

“I can’t…” You mumbled under your breath, unable to meet his glare any longer.

“Speak up, pet. You were so loud a few moments ago. Speak to me with that same tough voice now that you can't run away from me.” His slender fingers kept moving, cleaning the trophy with such grace. It was rhythmic, methodical, and calculated. It made you wet just to watch him, reminding you of how easily those same fingers could make you fall apart in his arms.

“I can’t move.”

“You can’t move?” he whined, pouting, mocking you without remorse.

“Well, I want you kneeling in front of me. So how do you suggest you get over here, sweetie?”

“Sylus…” You pled, which was slightly better than flat out begging.

“Tsk tsk, where are our manners?” The same red mist that bound your wrists and ankles now curled around your throat, not hesitating to squeeze abruptly, threatening to rob you of all of your air altogether.

“Please sir, help me.” Without letting another second pass, you were pulled into the air and inched over to him by the mist, roughly thrown back to the ground before him. His legs were spread in his seated position, gun resting on one, the other resting between your thighs.

“Thank you,” You said, hanging your head to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Aw, so polite. See what happens when you ask nicely? See how sweet I can be when you aren't a fucking brat?” With that, his foot adjusted, the tip of his perfectly polished leather shoe gently pressed against your core. You struggled not to writhe against him, desperately needing some form of friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

“Look at me, darling.” You did. The fervent desire in your eyes obvious, bottom lip bloody from biting it so hard, restraining yourself from any more unnecessary commentary.

“You look so needy like this, my foot pressed against your cunt, pouting underneath me. You look like you want to ask me for something? What is it, baby? Do you need something from your daddy, hm?” A whine fell from between your lips against your control as you tensed your legs, begging them not to move without permission.

“Please can I- can you fuck me please?”

“Can I fuck you? Do you think that I should dirty myself--” the hold on your neck tightened once more, “by fucking someone so pathetic that they’re getting off at the thought of grinding on my leg? Someone who can’t go a few hours without my attention shouldn’t get my cock inside of them. Someone like that shouldn’t get to feel my cum filling them up and spilling out of their tight little holes. They shouldn’t get to feel daddy’s tongue cleaning them up, kissing and sucking every inch on their pretty little pussy, should they?” You couldn’t get yourself to say no, but you knew yes wasn’t what he wanted to hear, so you stayed quiet. The cool sensation of metal burned your skin in an instant, tilting your jaw up, forcing your vision toward to ceiling, your eyes getting lost in the gold detailing of the mural above. Silence filled the space between you two, the only sound to be heard was the quickening of your heartbeat and the flip of the gun’s safety that was pressed against your flesh. A lump grew in your throat at the noise. You could feel the sole of his shoe pressing into you even more, gently moving back and forth as you bit your lip again.

“Let me hear you, baby. Tell daddy how good it feels, go on.”

“Th- Thank you daddy. That feels so good.”

“Say ‘thank you daddy for making my cunnie feel good.” You whined at the request, embarrassment causing tears to prick and sting at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t want to use your words? How ungrateful.” It wasn’t long before the coolness against your jaw was gone. You dropped your gaze to look at him once again. The man before you was starved, his face void any sign of amusement. You wondered if this is what his prey felt when he looked at them, a lamb waiting to be eaten by the lion, forced to let him play with his food before he could be thoroughly satiated. He put the barrel of the gun against your lips now, his thumb languidly dancing on the trigger.

“Open up for me. Let me see that pretty tongue.” You hesitantly stuck your tongue out, the spit that had been building up in your mouth finally free to drip onto the metal as he pushed the barrel against the back of your throat. Your eyes widened at the sensation, the realization that his prized possession was being soiled by your drool far too humiliating. The tears flowed freely now. Your cheeks grew damp as you cried out against the obstruction in your mouth.

“Aw sweetheart, are you crying? Do you want to push your hips against me? Will that make your cunnie feel better?” You nodded, sniffling softly as you shifted uncomfortably, the realization that you couldn’t move at all finally catching up with you.

“Go ahead, hump my leg. You have permission. Make yourself feel good for daddy.” You tried to do as he asked, moving your hips slowly back and forth, the ache only growing in between your legs, but all you could think about was how dirty that gun was getting your mouth. Sobs fell from your lips now. His face contorted slightly at your cries.

“M-s-sorry daddy,” You struggled out, words muffled by the metal. He slowly pulled the gun out of your mouth,

“Are you scared, sweetheart? Is that why you’re dirtying this pretty face with tears, hm?” You felt his skin for the first time against yours, his free hand gently caressing your cheek, thumb making small circles on your flesh.

“No I just… I hate that I’m getting your gun dirty. I know how much you care about it. I’m sorry I just can’t stop drooling on it.” His fingers softly pressed under your eyes, catching the tears.

“Your spit is the sweetest thing I could use to clean this gun. It’s just an inanimate object, huh?" he said, being sure to use your choice of words exactly.

"Don’t cry pretty girl.” As he spoke, your wrists and ankles fell freely, the stress on your throat lifting as the red mist fell away.

“Come up here,” he said, fingers beckoning for you to stand and sit in his lap, your back pressed against his warm and muscular chest. Hooking his arm under your knee, he spread your legs apart, resting your ankle over the arm of the chair. His fingers wasted no time finding their way beneath your skirt, softly pulling the satin fabric of your panties to the side as he slipped a finger inside of you without warning.

“Oh my god,” You moaned out desperately as he hummed in amusement.

“I’m jealous. Your god is getting all of the praise, but I’m the one that's making this pussy leak all over my fingers. That doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

“Fuck, daddy thank you.” His pace quickened, every inch of his long and slender fingers making you gasp and writhe beneath his touch as you bucked against his palm.

“You are very welcome sweet girl. Next time you want daddy’s attention, you can just ask and we can skip all the theatrics, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Aw, ‘yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy.'” Such pretty words from such a dirty mouth. The same mouth that stained my gun, isn’t that right?” he said. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, your wetness forming a spot on the fine fabric of his pants as you felt his cock growing beneath you. It only made you squirm more at the thought of its thickness filling you up after being empty throughout this whole ordeal.

“Relax for me.” This was the only warning you got before you felt that same cool metal slide between your folds, the ridges of the firearm serving as a new source of friction to grind on before Sylus slid his finger out of your walls, replacing it with the tip of the gun against your entrance. He felt you tense up immediately in his grasp.

“No no no,” he said, thumb gently caressing your inner thigh, his touch burning you with ease.

“Relax baby. Let daddy’s pussy open up for him, hm? I just want that sweet little hole’s juices to cleanse my gun thoroughly.” Your mouth hung open, moans escaping as he spoke. Your head rested against his shoulder, hair messily rubbing against his shirt. He pressed his soft lips against your forehead.

“That’s it, puppy. Gooood fucking girl, you're taking it so well for me, huh sweetheart?” his fingers found your clit once more, melting away any tension. Slowly, the tip of the gun pushed its way between your tender walls, your flesh clenching around it tightly, making it hard for him to slide it in and out of you.

“That’s a greedy pussy, isn’t it— holding onto anything that it can, my fingers, my cock, my tongue, my gun. She just wants to be filled, hm? She just loves daddy so much that anything he puts inside, she doesn’t want to let go of?”

“Y-yes daddy, she loves you. Please please please keep touching her.” So, he did. Slowly but surely, he pushed the metal in and out, salivating as he watched the way your flesh gripped on to the tip before he’d shove it back inside.

“Fuck--you wanna cum for me? Gonna make a big mess all over daddy’s gun, sweetheart? How fucking filthy,” You nodded as Sylus’s rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Without warning, his spit filled your open mouth, slowly dripping from between your lips, coating your chest.

“Don’t swallow it. Keep my spit in your mouth when you cum for me. Stick your tongue out and cum all over me like a good little puppy,” He sped up even more now, the tip of the gun pushing against that spot inside of you that made your body heat up like white lightning that was trapped in a bottle and begging to be let out. He hit that spot over and over again, making your head fuzzy as he held your gaze captive with his scarlet eyes.

“Daddy—fuck—please, I don’t think I can take it.” You panicked, your hand desperately reaching for his wrist, hoping for some freedom from the incessant pleasure only for the mist to trap you once again, binding your hands up above your head and around Sylus’s neck, pressing your bodies even closer together.

“Shit—you’re so wet, you’re making a puddle in my lap. Are you gonna squirt around my gun, baby?” He said, emphasizing his point with a sharp push of the metal against you g-spot.

“No I- I can’t. It’s too embarrassing please don’t make me.”

“Come on, listen to your daddy and let go all over me. Squirt, cum, cry, I don’t care, but I’m gonna pull it all out of you either way. So, give it to me, it’s mine. I worked so hard for it,” he said, fingers finding their way into your open mouth, but you didn’t dare close your lips around them, just letting the spit drip down onto yourself and he bullied your pussy over and over again until you just couldn’t take it anymore. Tears streamed from your eyes once more as you let go. Your wetness spilled all over his lap, pulling guttural screams from your throat that were muffled by his hands.

“Good girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for daddy, baby. Poor baby, so pent up. It must feel so good to let go now, huh?” Streams of ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as you squirmed against his grasp. He pressed his full lips to your face again as he pulled his finger and his firearm from your holes slowly. You watched him with tired eyes, as you were covered in your own wetness. The gun dripped with your juices, but he wasted no time putting the metal to his own mouth this time, flattening his tongue against the barrel of the gun and licking it clean.

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart. Maybe you should let you help me clean my guns more often.” Dazed, and far too exhausted to protest, you closed your eyes, resting your head against him once again, your hands finally free. He pressed small kisses against your sweaty face, gently brushing any hair from your skin before you spoke up again.

“T-thank you, Sylus.”

“The pleasure is all mine, pretty girl.”