Clint Is So Cool

“I’m not telling you to make the world better I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it."

Joan Didion

I love itafushi

I fell in love with an emo… BOY???

Tags: itafushi, megumi x itadori, bl, aged up characters, modern!au, side of SatoSugu, crack, NO SMUT, unserious joke about suicide, maybe some tension and suggestion though, megumi wants that cookie so damn bad, hey what’s junpei doing here???

Synopsis: There should only be ONE emo boy in Itadori’s heart, and it damn well wasn’t going to be the one who died in season one.

An: If you don’t ship itafushi, don’t read this LOL. This was so fun to write honestly. I didn’t take it too seriously. You shouldn’t either. The idea just popped up, and I wanted to write it as a palette cleanser from all the dark shit I’ve been conjuring up.

Megumi was going to need a dentist.

Yep, he was surely going to need to take Gojo’s precious black card and pay for all new veneers because his teeth were practically going to be dust by the time this visit was over.

It shouldn’t bother him this badly. His best friend and long-term crush was only visiting with his childhood best friend.

Itadori was a fucking saint. A ray of sunshine and pretty pink flowers on a rainy day. He exuded kindness and thoughtfulness in everything he did. He was unapologetically himself, even if he was a total dork. He was charming as all hell. It was no wonder how he was so popular.

Megumi wasn’t the only one that was blessed enough to feel his warmth, and that thought was sickening enough.

Usually, the black-haired male didn’t necessarily care about all the attention Itadori received. He didn’t bat an eye when Todo would unabashedly sling his arm across Itadori’s shoulders. He couldn’t care less when Nobara would sit on Itadori’s knees and apply skin care to his face, and he definitely never cared whenever Hana would run up to Itadori and give him one of the biggest hugs ever.

So, why was it bothering him so bad that Junpei was simply sitting next to Itadori… laughing at his god awful jokes? They were clearly close… Their knees casually leaned up against each others as they weren’t afraid of touching.

Maybe it was because Junpei laughed really hard at Itadori’s shitty jokes? Everyone loved Itadori, but it wasn’t because of his sense of humor. That was for certain.

Maybe he hated Junpei because he just sprung up out of thin air? Gojo had just shown up with Junpei with basically no forewarning. He knew how much Megumi hated when he did that.

Maybe it was because they had history together? History that didn’t involve Megumi. Maybe he felt some weird claim and ownership over Itadori because he was the first one out of the group of students to meet him. They had known each other the longest… even if it was only by a couple of days.

Or maybe it was because Junpei had that fuck ass haircut. The 2009 emo boy look was so stupid, and it didn’t help that he was wearing a My Chemical Romance t-shirt… It was an exact carbon copy of the one in Megumi’s closet.

“What about you, Megs?” Yuji voice snapped Megumi out of his train of thought. He looked up at the two pairs of eyes that were waiting for his response. Shit. He had been so focused on trying to deduce the status of their relationship that he hadn’t been listening for the past ten minutes.

“Hm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” He responded casual enough. It wasn’t unlike him to mentally check out of conversations… especially whenever Itadori brought up that godforsaken human earthworm movie.

“I was just trying to see if you wanted to go see a movie with Junpei and I?” Itadori asked without even skipping a beat.

Junpei and I?

Junpei and I!?

They were like some fucking package deal or something. No, he’d rather drop dead than go hangout with them. He couldn’t stand to see them together for any longer.

“I don’t have anything else better to do.” Megumi sighed in agreement. He couldn’t stand to see them together, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of them going on a date alone! Sorry Junpei, Megs was definitely going to tag along and be a complete cockblock for him.

“Really? Hell yeah!” Itadori grinned as he quickly sat up from the couch, exuding excited puppy energy. Megumi never wanted to go to the movies with him, so this was a treat. His two best friends going with him to see a movie! What could be better?

“Kugisaki!! Come with us!” Itadori shouted towards the short brunette, who was currently sitting at the table with Hana, painting her nails.

“I’d rather kill myself. Thanks!” Kugisaki called back to him, causing for him to pout in response. That’s fine. It was good enough that Megumi and Junpei were tagging along.

Yuji knew how much they had in common with each orher. He at least hoped they’d finally talk on the way to the movie theatre.

Megumi leaned his head back against the couch, and he started to dial Ijichi’s number for a ride. Despite being legal adults, none of them had their license yet. Why get a license when Gojo’s money and staff supported all of them?

It was a little while later when Ijichi pulled the car up. Megumi’s stomach flipped as he thought about the seating arrangement for the car. It was something he hadn’t considered yet.

The three of them could pile into the backseat, except that would be three tall men piled into the backseat. That would be far too uncomfortable. Itadori was the tallest. He could sit up front, but… that would leave Megumi and Junpei in the back seat.. no thanks.

They could have Junpei sit up front. Then, Megumi could sit in the back with Itadori and…

Oh look, Itadori was already opening the backdoor for Junpei and ushering him in before sliding in beside him… how nice.

Megumi was left brooding in the front seat, internally cursing himself for coming along. Being a cockblock required getting and keeping Itadori’s attention, but he had no fucking idea how to do that.

Their relationship had always been Itadori reaching out to Megumi, and the brunette acting indifferent towards him. Megumi envied him for being able to reach out to others so confidently.

“Gojo said he’d be home later tonight, Fushiguro.” Ijichi informed meekly, sensing the other’s frustration. He was just trying to make small talk, but Megumi really wasn’t in the mood today. He actually was never in the mood, but today was worse.

“I already told you to call me Megumi. You’ve known me since I was a kid.” He rolled his eyes at Ijichi, never understanding why the man insisted on using his last name.

“Right… right.” Ijichi fumbled over his words as he continued to drive. Megumi was grateful yet also hated the silence between them. Now, he could hear Yuji yapping to Junpei about the latest horror movie release.

They hadn’t stopped fucking talking since Junpei showed up. It was unnerving. Unnatural. No one had that much to say, did they?

“God, I wish you would’ve been there, Junpei. Megs hated that movie. You would’ve enjoyed it though.” Itadori said with a small laugh.

It was like a knife to Megumi’s gut. All this time they spent together… had Yuji been comparing him to Junpei? Had he secretly wished the Junpei was there instead of Megumi?

Aaaannd his teeth were grinding together again. He propped his head up with his hand, glaring out the car window. He wasn’t a cockblock at all. Fuck, he was a third wheel.

He debated on faking some sort of illness to stay behind in the car, but he knew Ijichi would’ve taken any opportunity to take him to see Shoko. Shoko would’ve found out quickly that nothing was wrong with him, and she would’ve forced him to explain why he faked being sick.

He trailed behind the two as they walked into the movie theatre. They were constantly bumping their arms together as they walked in perfect sync.

Junpei was a little smaller than Megumi, so he came up just to Itadori’s shoulder. Did Itadori prefer shorter men? He liked tall girls… Did that translate to men as well?

He knew Itadori didn’t care about gender. He had revealed such over a game of truth or dare. Kugisaki had asked if Itadori would ever date a guy. Megumi’s ears subtly perked up with the pink-haired male said he really didn’t care what gender someone was. He only looked for personality. With a bit more digging, Kugisaki had taken the honor of labeling Itadori as pansexual, and the young man agreed with such.

Megumi was glad that no one had pressed about his sexuality. It’s not that he was ashamed of being gay. Hell, shame wasn’t a thing when you had Gojo as a parent. He just didn’t want there to be that weird awkward tension that always happens between two friends when they find out each of them like the same sex.

It happened in middle school once. He was finally coming to terms with his sexual identity with the help of Geto. He came out of the closet to his closest (and only) friend in middle school, and there was a pregnant pause when his friend replied, “Wait really? I also like guys.”

He honestly preferred coming out to straight men. Sure, they’d make the common mistake of saying, “Well, as long as you don’t hit on me. We’re cool, dude.” but at least there was no complicated feelings when Megumi would always reply with them not being his type.

Lost in thought, he had completely been acting on autopilot this entire time. He didn’t even realize that they were already in the movie theatre until he sat next to Itadori. Junpei sat on the other side.

Itadori held a large bowl of popcorn on his lap. It was more than enough for the three of them to share, especially because Megumi despised popcorn. There was too many times when Gojo would try to serve popcorn as a meal to him as a young kid.

Granted, Gojo was a teen dad who ran off of sugar and desserts, so he really didn’t know any better either. Geto would always come by and save the day with his cooking.

A small tap on his thigh had Megumi tensing. He slightly flinched before snapping his gaze at Itadori.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispered with a soft laugh. Even though it was dark, Megumi could still see how bright his smile was. It made his heart skip a beat. Christ, he was whipped. “Here. I know you don’t like popcorn.”

Itadori gently nudged Megumi’s thigh once again with a bag of American salty chips. It was one of his favorite kinds. Did Itadori by chance know that was his favorite..? If he did, was that something that friends did for each other?

It’s better not to read too deeply into it. He slowly took the chips from his friend’s hand. “Thanks.” He muttered as he just stared at the chip bag. Something about the small token kindness made his heart swell. Itadori didn’t get Junpei his own special snack.

“Don’t mention it.” His friend replied, immediately shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Megumi took a deep breath, and he tried to relax in his seat. Finally, rational thought was beginning to come back to him.

Junpei was only visiting for today and tomorrow. If there was some weird tension between him and Itadori, it’s probably just lingering feelings of their past. Megumi really had no right to be jealous. It’s not like he had ever expressed his feelings to him. He had no claim on Itadori.

Junpei would be leaving soon and flying back off to wherever the hell he lived now. This would be a funny memory in the future.

All was well… until Megumi caught a glimpse of the two men whispering to each other and laughing. Their hands kept bumping together in the popcorn bucket. Itadori was leaned against Junpei so they could hear each other better.

Fuck this. This was torture to witness. Junpei could get fucked for all Megumi cared. Who needs to visit their childhood best friend for a full two days, and who cared if Megumi had no claim over Itadori!? He was still his best friend. That had to count for something.

The movie Itadori had chosen, Human Tarantula, was nothing like Human Earthworm. It took a horror twist upon the movie, and there was little to no romance.

If Megumi wanted his attention, he was going to have to fight for it.

Even though the jump scares were pretty predictable, the next one that happened, Megumi sharply inhaled, and his hand latched onto Itadori’s thigh, feigning terror from the movie.

The pink-haired male straightened, and he looked away from Junpei for once as he looked over at Megumi. He never usually got scared during these films. Did… did Megumi have a secret fear of spiders?

Itadori leaned into Megumi, his mouth next to his friend’s ear as he softly whispered a, “You alright?” to him.

The brunette was thankful it was too dark in the movie theatre for Itadori to see how much that affected him. His cheeks flushed a soft red, and he carefully removed his hand from his friend’s thigh. “I’m fine..” He responded, not risking a glance in Itadori’s direction.

Itadori softly laughed. It was totally like Megumi to act like he wasn’t scared. The pink-haired male just didn’t expect him to be so afraid of spiders. It was cute though. He made a mental note of it. He would be the designated person to take care of spiders if they ever crawled their way into the house.

It wasn’t five minutes later until Itadori and Junpei were all huddled up together once again. They weren’t even talking. They were just leaned against each other, enjoying the movie together… like a couple.

It made Megumi’s stomach turn. He had to act scared to get Itadori’s attention even for just a minute. Meanwhile the emo with the fucked ass haircut can manage to keep his attention the entire day.

Junpei was getting to experience Itadori whispering into his ear constantly throughout the entire movie — something that Megumi only got to experience once, and it was something he craved again.

He was about to just excuse himself to the bathroom to go hide in self-deprecation. He was tired of third wheeling, and he was certainly fucking tired of hearing Junpei giggle at Itadori’s comments.

A scene played on the giant movie screen of a whole nest of baby spiders crawling around. It was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl with disgust. The sound alone made Megumi’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He wasn’t actually afraid of spiders, but he also didn’t fuck with them either.

A hand rested on his knee, and Megumi tensed. Itadori casually had his palm on the brunette’s knee. He focused on his breathing — trying to not appear as if he was about to die over such a simple touch.

Itadori was clearly just trying to soothe him. It’s not like this is a romantic gesture. No, this is just what friends did for each other, right..?

His thumb gently stroked the outer part of his knee, and Megumi gripped onto the arm rest of the chair like he was fighting for his life. His heart was racing in his chest. Butterflies swarmed his stomach. Itadori and him were close, but they had never even shared a hug before. They weren’t the type of friends to casually share touches… like him and Junpei were.

Of course, on the outside, Megumi looked terrified. Itadori genuinely pitied his friend. He would’ve chosen a different movie if he knew about Megumi’s aversion to spiders.

His hand continued to caress his friend’s knee, thinking this would be a soothing motion to ease his terror, but Megumi was nearly shaking.

Itadori leaned over against him once more. “We can go if you’re not having a good time.” His breath brushed against the shell of his ear, causing Megumi to shudder.

“I’m fine.” He managed to get out in a low, steady tone.

Itadori gave his knee one good squeeze before continuing to rub circles around his knee. Megumi swallowed harshly as he tried to keep his breath slow and steady.

The rest of the movie went by painfully fast. Megumi couldn’t focus with Itadori’s hand on his knee, and he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. His hand itched to just reach down and hold it, but he was too nervous. He kept trying to remind himself that Itadori was likely only doing this so he could be a good friend.

The loss of contact had Mugumi’s heart sinking down into his stomach. Itadori was right back to being all up Junpei’s ass. Were they in some weird ass throuple situation? Is that what people thought about them as they saw them in passing? Two emos sharing a golden retriever?

Returning home, Gojo was sitting at the dining room table, playing on his Nintendo Switch before he looked up at the three with starry eyes. Megumi had forgotten Ijichi mentioned Gojo would be home this afternoon.

During the school semesters, Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara would all go live on the college campus they all went to. However, it was summer time, so they all stayed at Megumi’s since Nobara and Itadori really didn’t have any family.

Megumi’s house was expansive thanks to Gojo’s handsome check from being the clan head. Geto’s income also helped a bit, but he mainly ran a nonprofit for disadvantaged children.

Hell, their home was like a nonprofit for disadvantaged children. It felt like the collected orphans like pokemon cards. First Megumi when he was seven, now several college students found refuge in Gojo’s house.

Hell, Junpei was probably an orphan too. They were really trying to catch ‘em all.

“Gumiii~!” Gojo called out to his child by that god awful nickname that Megumi hated. He was eternally grateful that Itadori had landed on calling him ‘Megs’ instead. “How was the movie?” He asked.

Junpei and Itadori had already settled right back on the couch right next to each other, going back and forth about the voice actors for the movie they just watched.

“Outside.” Megumi grumbled as he grabbed his adoptive dad by the collar of his shirt and comedically dragged him backwards until they were in the backyard.

“Why the fuck did you bring him here, and when the fuck is he leaving exactly?” Megumi asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Grouchy.” Gojo laughed, scratching the back of his neck once his son released him. “I guess the movie wasn’t that good, was it?” He asked, clearly just trying to egg the brunette on.

“Gojo.” Megumi’s tone was low and threatening. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Small crescent shapes were likely indented into his skin from how tight his grip was.

“Okay, okay- No need for the government name, Gumi.” Gojo responded with his hands up in a dramatic surrendering expression. “Itadori had mentioned having only one close childhood best friend one time, and I decided that a reunion was very much needed.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. He had really filled out his frame since he was a teenager. He still wasn’t as tall as Gojo, lanky bastard, but he wasn’t as defenseless as he use to be. And he honestly debated fighting his adoptive dad.

“So, anyone can just mention to you about a previous friend, and you’ll go dig them up and fly them out?” He asked in a careful tone. His voice was low and filled with misplaced anger.

Gojo pretended to contemplate Megumi’s question before finally giving a response. “If they give me pretty puppy dog eyes, yes.”

“He begged..?” Megumi’s anger was swiftly forgotten, replaced with shell-shock. Itadori had been so desperate to reconnect with Junpei that he begged Gojo to find him and fly him out..? His stomach coiled from the news, and his face paled.

Gojo chose his next words very carefully. “He said he wondered how Junpei had been getting along, and he missed their long talks about movies.”

It was enough to send Megumi straight to his room, locking the door behind him. He knew he had just been mindlessly jealous thus far today, but this level of self pity was unprecedented.

His long-term crush wasn’t fulfilled enough in his friendship with him. He had to go search out his old childhood best friend likely to rekindle old nostalgic feelings. They got along great. There hadn’t been a moment of silence in the house since Junpei had arrived.

Fuck. The memory of Gojo showing up with Junpei flooded Megumi’s mind. Gojo’s stupid ass had shoved Junpei into a box to make a grand reveal. Megumi was too surprised to notice how Itadori’s eyes gleamed and how he ran straight up to Junpei to envelop his body into a tight hug.

Even now, Gojo was sitting downstairs with Junpei and Itadori as they played a board game. It was sickening to think about.

Maybe… maybe he should just move on from Itadori. There was clearly nothing between them on Itadori’s side. He should take on a few more classes during the fall semester and bury himself in his studies to forget about his crush.

A soft knock at his door had him wiping his face, making sure no residue tears were left behind. “What?” He called out in an unamused tone.

“Don’t what me.” Geto’s calm voice filled the room, and Megumi immediately moved to unlock the door for his other adoptive dad.

Megumi knew better than to pick a fight with Geto as he was the lawmaker in the house, and Gojo would back him all the way to the moon over anything.

“Sorry…” He muttered as he sat back down on his bed, avoiding eye contact with the other male.

“Why are you up here moping? Nanako and Mimiko are even downstairs socializing, and you know how hard it is to get those girls to do anything besides stare at their phones and laugh at each other.” Geto said as he took a seat down on the bed next to Megumi.

Megumi shrugged his shoulders. There was no way he was about to vent out his frustrations right now. He already felt too vulnerable and raw. He didn’t need anyone else knowing what was going on.

Too bad for him, Geto was perceptive as hell. He was always the first to notice when Megumi would go on downward spirals like this… probably because he went through the same thing.

Geto’s episodes were far and few between nowadays, but he still had his days. Gojo had luckily gotten better at picking up on Geto’s warning signs, and he’d always do whatever was necessary to bring his husband back to life.

“You know… I remember I use to hate this girl back in college. She was brash, strong, and had long dark hair that rivaled my own.” Geto said as he looked at his son. He knew without even having to ask. Megumi was clearly stricken with jealousy and grief.

“So?” The brunette asked, giving Geto a raised eyebrow.

“So, Satoru was too touchy with her. He always use to tease her until she went red in the face, and they way he said her name had me plotting her demise. Uttaahimmee~” Geto mocked Gojo’s teasing tone of voice, earning a faint smile out of Megumi.

“We weren’t dating at the time, and I’d say we barely even had a situationship going. I felt like I had no right to be so jealous. I usually tried to play along, until I found myself retracting from what Satoru and I had been building.” He went on, recounting their teenage years fondly.

“I almost let him go, but I decided to give a last ditch effort. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had retracted completely instead of just telling him how I felt? He admitted that he was only acting that way so I’d feel jealous. He thought it’d make me want him more. What an idiot.” He laughed, and Megumi joined in with his own soft laughs.

“Thanks. I know what you’re trying to do..” Megumi said with a soft smile planted on his face. “But I don’t think Itadori is doing this to get a rise out of me.”

“Certainly not. That boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t perhaps like seeing that jealous side of you.” Geto said, raising his eyebrows with suggestion that had Megumi shoving him out of his room with embarrassment. His dads were too cool joking about that stuff with him, even if he was grown now.

After a few moments of reflection, he set forth a plan in his mind before collecting himself mentally. He was going to allow himself to feel jealous without any judgment.

He walked downstairs, and he lingered around the back of the couch as he watched his sisters, Itadori, Junpei, and Gojo all playing some sort of board game.

Itadori and Junpei were nearly on fucking top of each other. It was disgusting. He let out a disgruntled noise of dissatisfaction as he climbed over the couch to sit on Itadori’s other side.

“Hey Megs. I was going to go check on you after this round.” He said as he freed himself away from Junpei.

“It’s fine.” He said as he placed a firm hand over Itadori’s knee. Butterflies once again swarmed his stomach. He really couldn’t touch the other without getting all flustered. He tried to control his breathing, and he forced his voice to be steady. “What are you playing?” He asked.

Itadori noticed the sudden hand on his knee, but he didn’t dare to comment on it. “We’re playing Life.”

“Speaking of which, it’s your turn, Yuji.” Junpei spoke up, interrupting their small interaction.

Megumi glared at Junpei unapologetically until every person in that room felt uncomfortable.

“Actually, I completely forgot. I have a livestream to go watch!” Mimiko said as she hurried out of the living room.

“Me too-“ Nanako added as she chased after her twin sister up the stairs.

“I think I hear Suguru calling for me.” Gojo said with a knowing grin as he leisurely left the living room as well.

“Well…” Junpei muttered lowly as he looked around. “Maybe we can watch another movie, Yuji..?”

Megumi didn’t miss how Junpei clearly didn’t intend on inviting him to their plans. His teeth ground together, but he stayed silent, waiting to see what Itadori’s response would be.

“I… actually need to shower. It’s getting late, and Todo expects me to be in the gym every morning at 5 o’clock sharp.” Itadori said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Good boy. Megumi thought to himself.

“I’ll bring you down some blankets and pillows. Hana’s currently taking up the guest room, but you and I can camp-“ A disapproving growl from Megumi had Itadori quickly rethinking what he was saying. He felt the brunette’s hand tighten around his knee. “You and I can… catch up tomorrow.” He quickly adjusted his words.

“Yeah, sure.. That’s fine.” Junpei nodded as he got comfortable on the couch. Yuji stood up, and Megumi followed along right behind him. It took work to keep the smug expression off his face. He finally fucking won. He was officially a cockblock.

His smug victory was cut short when he was swiftly jerked into the bathroom, and his back was pressed against a wall. The door shut, and the lock clicked into place. Itadori’s hands trapped him in, and he looked up at his tall friend with wide eyes.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you?” Itadori spoke in a voice that was not at all intimidating, but it was more concerning than anything.

“I don’t know what you’re-“ A hand placed firmly under his jaw had Megumi’s heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He secretly hoped Itadori couldn’t hear it.

This was straight out of his fantasies. His friend keeping him still against a wall, forcing his gaze up into his big brown eyes. He had the face of an angel, but his actions spoke to a hidden darkness underneath.

“Don’t lie to me, Megs.” Itadori spoke with a frown. It looked like disappointment on his face, making Megumi feel slightly remorseful for the bold display of jealousy. Though, he wouldn’t have had to do that if Yuji and Junpei weren’t so annoyingly close.

“You’ve been up Junpei’s ass since he got here. It’s like you forgot you have other friends around.” Megumi finally fessed up as he tried to jerk his jaw away from Itadori’s grasp. He only tightened more around his jaw.

“That’s what your mood has been about?” Itadori asked with a laugh. A laugh. Megumi could feel his anger boiling over as if he wanted to explode right then, feeling so invalidated by the guy he had longed for-

His train of thought completely stopped as he felt a pair of lips upon his own. No way was this happening right now. He literally had to look down and check. Yep, Itadori was kissing him right now.

After the smallest moment of hesitancy, Megumi instantly melted into the kiss, looping his arms around Yuji’s neck and swallowing down each and every small noise he made.

The kiss was short, but it was lust-filled on both sides. Itadori was gently panting with a dumb grin on his face as he eyed his best friend. Megumi face had a subtle blush to it, and he was avoiding his gaze.

“Does that make you feel better? I didn’t take you for such a brat, Fushiguro.” Yuji gently teased, squeezing onto Megumi harder as he tried to get out of his grasp.

“What did you just call me?” Megumi asked as he was trying to fight Yuji’s hulking figure. The pink-haired male had supernatural strength that rendered Megumi completely useless against him.

“I’ll let you mark me up if you stop fighting me and forget that I called you a brat.” Yuji bribed with a laugh, and Megumi went completely still in his arms.

“Wherever I want.” He negotiated with a narrow stare.

“Wherever you want and however many it takes for you not to be such a jealous recluse.” Yuji offered.

“Deal.”

*** *** ***

Todo was a loss for words when Yuji walked into the gym the next morning littered in bruises along his neck and collarbones.

Also, no one dared to mention to Megumi that Junpei was actually straight… There was never a battle of the emo boys in Yuji’s heart after all.

i just know atsumu LOVES gossip , he is just so damn interesting in how you discovered that your coworker was cheating on her husband with the boss. he’s on the edge of his seat, gasping like never before “NO WAYYY” he leans in eyes widening “ HOWD YA KNOW ?! YOU CAUGHT EM’ HOLY—” he’s now fully invested, he wants every single detail and he will complain if you don’t know everything.

atsumu is sitting cross-legged in front of you, nodding along like this is the most important thing he’s ever heard. he interrupts every few seconds—“wait, wait, back up. so he found out from his cousin? NOOO, that’s so messy.” “and then what? did he leave ? please tell me he left ‘er.” by the time you’re done, he sighs dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “holy shit that was good.” he grins, poking your cheek. “babe, ya gotta keep me updated. this is important.”

atsumu definitely pulls a “who are we to judge” after destroying the person he was talking about

Bucky is so cute wtf.

win you over | bucky barnes

bucky x fem!reader

warnings: adult content minors dni (mxf intercourse, dirty talk, bathroom sex??) swearing, mentions of death, guns, slight mention of ptsd

a/n: special shout-out to @everybirdfellsilent // @kyberblade bc as always u hype me up and now i’m posting this. HOPE U ALL LIKE IT!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Bucky? You nearly ready?” He hears your voice outside his door, and nearly trips over with how fast he moves to let you in. When he swings it open, your eyes take their time, travelling his suited figure up and down. “Damn. You clean up nice.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He manages, seeing the thin material shaping every curve of your body. “Good thing I can throw a punch. Might be beating off more than Hydra agents with you in that dress.”

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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.

OTOYA IS SUCH A COMEDIAN.

hehe what a sensitive boy <3

For the love of my life, Nines:

28. “each of my thoughts about you are improper”

59. “are you sure? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop”

I just know you’ll cook up something hot with these 😌💅

@dattebae Here you go, lovely! I love that two of my Nines prompts chose number 28. Clearly we're all on the same page where this boy is concerned!

Nines x AFAB reader. Rated M.

The RK900 was the most…androidish android you’d ever seen. If Connor hadn’t informed you of the fact, you would never have guessed that the grey eyed model was a deviant. It took until the fifth time you spoke to him for you to learn he had a name.

You worked on the reception desk at the DPD, so you knew all the officers well. Connor had endeared himself to you very quickly by always stopping to say hello. You thought he was cute, but your co-worker got there first. Since they made a pretty adorable couple, you didn’t begrudge that. It had mostly been a harmless observation on your part anyway. Nines, however, was a different story.

The RK900 had been discovered in the CyberLife Tower, was deviated by Markus, and had come to work at the DPD with Connor. He was an upgrade to the RK800, although the team valued both androids as individuals, of course. Nines was undeniably impressive with his skillset, but Connor had the edge on people skills, most of which came down to his experience. He’d been alive longer, been a deviant longer.

Nines did not bother to say hello every morning, and had actually not even acknowledged your presence until he walked in with Connor one day. After witnessing Connor stopping for a brief chat with you and your colleagues, he made more of an effort to be…pleasant. That was probably the kindest word you could use.

Small talk didn’t come easily to him. At least, not naturally. You’d seen him fake it for a witness once, no doubt letting his social relations program step in for him. The change was remarkable. He’d been warm and friendly, chatting about the latest Gears game, handsome face wearing an easy smile. You’d almost gawped at him from behind the desk before remembering that that wouldn’t be very professional.

At first you’d been indignant, wondering why he didn’t put that effort in for you, but then it had occurred to you that it was all false. The way Nines acted with you and your colleagues was real. It might not be as warm as you would like, but it was genuine, and there was something to be said for that.

There was something so intriguing and mysterious about the RK900, you couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. You knew it was unrequited. He made that perfectly clear with his stoic face and cold eyes, striking an odd balance between making the effort to talk to you while giving the impression that he probably didn’t care about the answers. You knew nothing about him, other than the basic facts, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

There were plenty of people who had crushes on Connor, but from what you could see, you were the only one who thought about Nines. People admitted that he was hot, but were put off by his personality. Or lack thereof. According to the gossip you overheard, a man who appeared to be that stoic was likely to be cold in the bedroom. When you observed Nines’ uncaring nature, his focus solely on his job, you couldn’t help but see where they were coming from. Still, you kept thinking about him, kept seeing his face when you closed your eyes at night.

For a time, you just let your mind wander where it wanted to. It was a fun distraction, and you enjoyed the eye candy. After almost two months with no let-up, you were starting to feel a little concerned. Was this more serious than you’d thought? In which case, what were you supposed to do moving forward? At the start, his lack of interest didn’t bother you, but now…if your own interest ran deeper than you realised, you were fucked.

The smart thing to do would be to confide in Connor, who seemed to be Nines’ only friend, but you couldn’t. You’d never been the kind of person who could openly discuss your crushes, not even celebrity ones. It just felt too personal. As Nines’ friend, Connor would be able to tell you if your feelings had even the slightest chance of being returned, but even the knowledge that he’d be able to put your mind at ease couldn’t make you break your silence. It was better to just assume you were on your own and deal with it.

And then someone brought a gun into the DPD.

It was a minor incident, all things considered, over in less than a minute thanks to Nines, but it shook you. There was a reason why you were a receptionist and not an officer. You didn’t handle dangerous situations well, you tended to freeze and forget every single part of your security training.

The man, a desperate Red Ice addict who didn’t want to be arrested, had attempted to start a hostage situation in reception, but Nines had gotten there first, taking a bullet to the shoulder like it was nothing before snatching the gun out of the man’s hands. He’d tossed the gun aside, had the man on the floor and handcuffed before you could blink, but all you could think was that he’d been shot.

He swept his grey eyes around reception, assessing the situation, the state of the people there, in a glance. His gaze seemed to settle on you a beat longer than everyone else, unless you were projecting, and you wondered why. Then Connor was there, insisting on patching up Nines’ gunshot wound before leading him away.

You worked out the rest of your shift with wide eyes, feeling your heartrate decrease slowly, worried when you didn’t see either android again. When you left the desk to go to the bathroom, you saw them both doing paperwork. Nines didn’t seem any worse for wear, other than the gaping hole in his clothing, tinged with blue.

Your gaze met his on your way back, and you debated going over to ask if he truly was okay, but then his LED spun and he began to talk, taking a phone call. You continued walking, a little disappointed, but glad to see that he seemed to be fine.

Your shift ended promptly at 6pm, and you headed to the break room to wash up your coffee mug before you had to get the bus home. Connor unexpectedly stepped into your path when you were done, and you smiled at him.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“Fine, but I was wondering if you could do me a favour.”

You glanced at him in surprise, but nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

“I need to head out to follow a lead, could you take this folder to the archive for me?”

He held up a neatly-labelled manila folder, and you reached out a hand for it. You had a little while before your bus came.

“No problem.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded. “See you tomorrow, Connor.”

He headed for the door, and you diverted to the elevator down to the archive. It wasn’t the first time you’d run small errands for the officers. You knew how busy they were, so as long as they didn’t take advantage of your good nature, you didn’t mind helping out with small things. You were surprised to find Nines there too.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Good evening,” he replied. “What are you doing down here? Your shift is over.”

“Connor asked me to put this away,” you explained, holding up the folder.

He tilted his head a fraction. “Interesting.”

“It is?” you said, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Yes. Because he asked me to put this away.” He showed you a folder of his own.

Heat flooded your face as you realised the two of you had been set up, and you wondered what Connor could possibly hope to achieve.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yes.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen Nines look awkward. It was…interesting.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, then you gestured with your folder.

“I’ll just…”

You walked past him, shoulders hunched in the universal sign for ‘sorry I’m in your way even though I’m not really’, and found the correct file cabinet. By the sounds of it, Nines was doing the same.

Job done, you headed back to the elevator. You pressed the button for the main floor, surprised when Nines entered with you. You’d just assumed he’d take the stairs, since you were only using the elevator because it had been a long, tiring day.

His tall, looming presence made the boxy space feel even smaller, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should attempt small talk.

The elevator came to a juddering halt, and you yelped as you were plunged into darkness before the emergency lights came on, bathing you both in eerie red.

“What the…?”

“Stay calm,” Nines instructed, although you weren’t panicked, just surprised. “I’m calling for help.”

You watched as he communicated silently with someone, his LED blinking. He looked even more intimidating in shades of scarlet, the lights casting deep shadows on the planes of his face. Not that you felt intimidated exactly; it was just something you observed.

You waited as patiently as you could, eyeing the now-blank display above the doors. When Nines finally moved, you glanced at him, taking in the disgruntled expression on his face.

“What’s going on?”

“The power’s out,” he informed you. “I could only get through to Connor, he’s on his way back. He said he’ll update me as to what’s happening, but for now we just have to wait.”

You sighed, suddenly feeling a conflicting mixture of tired and tense. You should have just taken the damn stairs! Now it could be hours before you were able to get home. At least you weren’t claustrophobic, although the sensation of being trapped was making you a little uneasy. Being trapped specifically with Nines – your secret crush – was only adding to your unease. You felt too awkward to handle it well, you were bound to say something stupid, highlight exactly why androids were superior to humans.

The elevator felt stuffy, although whether that was just in your head or an effect of the air con now being off, you weren’t sure. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall, and Nines looked down at you for a moment before mirroring your pose on the opposite side. He didn’t need to sit, so he was clearly just doing it to make you feel more comfortable. That was a nice gesture.

The first half hour dragged. You sat in silence, unsure what to say, and Nines didn’t venture anything either. He had to be impatient, possibly more so than you, but you couldn’t tell looking at him. His expression was placid, grey eyes strangely pale in the red light. He sat with his feet flat on the floor, knees bent, arms resting on them in a pose that was oddly casual for him. You assumed he was mimicking humans he’d seen.

You tried hard not to stare at him, but since he was the only interesting thing in the elevator, you didn’t succeed much. Your gaze kept creeping to him, only for you to guiltily snatch it back. A few times, you switched position, partly because the floor wasn’t the best seat in the world, partly to busy yourself for a few seconds. When the room got warm without the air con, you started to unbutton your shirt, thankful you had a tank top underneath.

Nines watched you, and you tried not to fidget under the heavy weight of his stare.

“It’s hot,” you mumbled by way of explanation.

He didn’t respond, most likely not considering it necessary.

A few awkward moments slipped by, and you dropped the shirt next to you, glad to feel some air on your bare arms.

“Why do I make you uncomfortable?” Nines spoke up out of the blue.

You frowned at him in surprise. “You don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I…” You trailed off, your protest dying on your tongue. You’d been about to say that you weren’t lying, which would have been another lie, but that was so much easier to say than the truth.

“Well, it’s because I have a gigantic crush on you, but until recently, you barely knew who I was, much less cared, and I wish I could just stop, but every time I see you I just want to climb you like a tree, and so being stuck in a small room with you is putting me on edge.”

Yeah, no. Best leave that unsaid.

“You realise I was built to be intimidating,” he added. “It’s not something I can help.”

“No, I know,” you answered, picking at a thread on your pants. “And you’re not. At least, I don’t find you intimidating. It’s…um…I just…I’m just really tired. I was looking forward to getting home.”

“What did I say about lying?” he snapped, tone accusing.

“I’m not lying, I really don’t see you that way!” you protested.

“Your reactions indicate otherwise,” he argued. “When I’m near you, you become restless, agitated. Your pupils dilate, your breathing rate increases. All signs of fear.”

And arousal, you added silently, trying not to panic as your reactions were picked apart. Did he really not realise what was happening? He was the most advanced android ever created, which meant that he must know what else those signs could mean. Could it be that he just didn’t consider it a possibility?

Your heart twisted at the implications of that. He clearly took on the weight of his daunting presence and the ways it could affect his day-to-day life, but did that mean he thought that everyone was afraid of him? Did it mean that he didn’t believe that someone could be attracted to him?

A sudden stray thought struck you, making your eyes widen. Was he, perhaps…lonely?

That was a lot to unpack, and your need to keep your feelings to yourself was suddenly warring with your need to reassure him.

“Nines, I…” you began, unsure where you were going with it. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He looked unconvinced, and you rushed to continue.

“Actually, I…I like you.”

His eyes were steady on you, boring through you, trying to get to the heart and truth of you. You swallowed and looked away, scrambling awkwardly to your feet as you gave in to your sudden need to move. As soon as he did the same, you regretted the decision, since he was taller than you. Sitting had equalled things between you to an extent. Now that he was looming over you once again, you struggled to find your words.

“I…I know you don’t feel the same,” you said, holding up a hand as you assured him that you had no expectations. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I just…I just want you know that not all of us find you scary, okay? And if you need to talk to someone, I’m here. I want to be your friend. I…don’t even know if that’s something you need or even want, but the offer stands. Just…just remember that.”

He stared at you for long seconds, face blank. That wasn’t unusual for him, but you wished he’d show at least something of what he was thinking.

“I can’t be your friend,” he said eventually.

Your heart sank, and you bit your lip as anxiety washed through you.

“Okay,” you said, doing your best to react the right way and not let the disappointment seep in. You should have known better than to expect an android of his advanced skills to need a human like you.

“Don’t you want to know why?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s any point in–”

“It’s because each of my thoughts about you are improper,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence.

You froze, wide-eyed, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. Your Nines translation meter must be slightly off, because it just wasn’t making sense.

“I can’t be your friend,” he went on. “It wouldn’t be right. I’d always want more, and I will not put you in a position where I demand more than you want to give.”

You were hearing his words, spoken in English, a language you definitely did understand, but their meaning just didn’t register. They were so at odds with his stoic expression.

“Wh…what?” you stuttered.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You winced at the harsh words, but then realised that they were a touch defensive. Nines was feeling vulnerable. Because of you. How was that even possible?

“You…like me?” you ventured cautiously. “As…more than a friend?”

“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”

“But you…why didn’t you…? Why didn’t you say something?” You gasped, remembering that you knew exactly why. “Shit, you really did think I was afraid of you, didn’t you?”

“Aren’t you?” he threw out.

“No! No, you… Fuck! For a man with a fucking supercomputer for a brain, you’re so dense!” you said between near-hysterical giggles.

He tilted his head, looking a little affronted, and you laughed harder.

“I’m sorry,” you wheezed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… Do you have any idea how long I’ve pined for you? Nines… I wasn’t afraid of you. I was attracted to you.”

His eyes widened a touch, and his LED whirred. “That…” he said after a moment’s thought, the words carefully considered, “…would make sense.”

You stifled another laugh. You didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, it was just the whole bizarre situation in general.

“So now what?” you asked.

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, crowding you against the wall with very little effort.

In a deceptively soft tone that sent shivers through your body, he said, “I believe a kiss would be appropriate. If you consent to that."

You swallowed hard, nodding, your gaze inevitably pulled to his mouth. He bent his head, you lifted your chin to meet him, and your lips met.

You’d imagined it dozens of times, but you had no idea what to actually expect. In light of your most recent conversation, you wondered if you were his first kiss, but if you were, you couldn’t tell. He knew what he was doing, his lips cool and pliant against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth with exploratory precision. A soft groan rumbled low in his throat, and you shivered. You’d suddenly thought of a much better way of passing the time.

You pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard, your eyes locked with his.

“Can I…?” you began.

“Anything,” he said.

You pushed him back half a step, then sank to your knees. You were starting to recognise micro-expressions in his stoic look, and you caught the brief flicker of surprise, and then the desire that followed it. Had you just been blind, or was he just giving you a chance to read him finally? Either way, it was gratifying to see.

You undid his belt and the fastenings on his dark jeans, taken aback to find yourself staring at pale skin rather than the underwear you’d expected.

“Shit. Have you been commando all this time?” you blurted out.

“What do I need underwear for?” he said validly.

“That’s hot,” you murmured, easing him out of his jeans.

Nines sighed as you touched him, stiffening and growing in your hand exactly as a human would. You gave him a few slow pumps, gauging the size and weight of him, feeling the softness of his skin, the surprising warmth beneath it. He had no scent that you could detect, and you playfully licked at the tip, grinning when he jerked and moaned above you. You took that sensitive part of him in your mouth, sucking gently, massaging the rest with your hands.

He moaned again, hips twitching in a very human-like way, plainly indicating what he wanted. You sucked a little harder, then ran the flat of your tongue across the underside before pulling back. You didn’t miss the way he leaned forward, chasing your mouth, and you felt your clit throb.

“Fuck my mouth,” you said, sitting back on your heels to look up at him.

He’d braced one arm against the wall, his rebellious lock of hair falling forward as he cast a shadow over you. His lips were parted as he drew air into his systems, and his eyes were heavy-lidded. And you’d barely started.

“Are you sure?” he asked you. “Once I start I don’t think I’m able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you said simply.

His eyes took on a look of determination, and you felt a thrill of adrenaline. His free hand slid into your hair and held your head still, and you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Open for me,” he ordered, and you almost whimpered at how many different ways you could take that.

You obligingly opened your mouth, and he slid back in, plunging deeper than you’d allowed before. You relaxed your jaw, taking as much of him as you could, already knowing that he’d have to make do with the limitations. It was fortunate that you were pretty good at controlling your gag reflex, since you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat.

He started to thrust, and you immediately picked up on both his desperation and his control over it. It told you that he wasn’t going to hurt you, even accidentally, and you relaxed even further. You let him do what he wanted for the first few minutes, then let your hands and tongue come into play, teasing and caressing where you could until he was panting hard above you.

“Fuck!” he grunted, and you inwardly grinned. You’d never seen him so animated, so unguarded, and you had a feeling you could easily become addicted to it.

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked, needing to hear him come apart. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling, but it was a dull pain. You liked knowing what you did to him.

“I’m…I’m going to…” he said, sounding thoroughly wrecked. You’d never heard him sound anything but calm and collected. The fact that he was tripping over his words now excited you. “Can I…?”

You freed a hand to curl your fingers into the ‘okay’ symbol, letting him know it was alright. It was more than alright.

With a harsh cry and a jolt, he came. Your throat was coated with synthetic cum, and you swallowed it, surprised by its heady, bittersweet flavour. Something familiar that you couldn’t immediately identify in your distracted horny state. Then it hit you: dark chocolate. He fucking tasted like dark chocolate.

You had so many questions for CyberLife.

You let him slip from your mouth, wiping the drool from your chin before he could see how undignified you were. Then, since he seemed to be dazed, you helpfully tucked him away and zipped his jeans, buckling his belt in place. It was only as you struggled to stand up on stiff legs that he snapped out of it, gripping your upper arms and helping you up. He pressed you against the wall, mouth on yours in a fierce kiss. You wondered if he could taste himself.

You intended to ask him how it had been for him, but you didn’t get the chance. No sooner had you broken apart, when he sent you a predatory look that rendered you speechless, and said firmly, “My turn.”

He got to his knees, hands working on your bottom layers before you had a moment to catch your breath. He looked up at you when he saw how damp your underwear was, and you shrugged, a little embarrassed.

“I told you,” you muttered defensively.

He actually laughed, just a brief chuckle, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it.

Your smile turned to a gasp as he explored your wet folds with his fingers, parting them before bringing his tongue into the mix. You had no idea if this was new to him too, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them expertly and brushing against your G-spot, making you moan his name.

“Fuck, Nines!”

Your hands found his hair, fingers drifting through the silky strands. Making him come had turned you on so much, you didn’t think you were going to last long. Not if he kept being as dextrous with his tongue as he was with his fingers.

Oh god, his tongue. You were going to have recurring dreams about his tongue, you could already tell.

“I need you,” you whimpered. “I need you, I need you.”

It had mostly been an outpouring of feeling for you, but Nines seemed affected by it too, his LED spinning yellow. His fingers pumped faster and harder, and he closed his mouth around you, sucking on your clit, playing with it with his tongue.

“Oh fuck!”

He kept you at such a constant level of pleasure, your orgasm took you by surprise. You cried out as you came, bucking against his face as he worked you through it. He drew it out exquisitely, leaving you convulsing against the wall for what felt like an eternity, his tongue lazily sweeping over and over your sensitive flesh until you had to beg him to stop.

When he stood, cupping the lower half of his face to wipe the excess slick away, you watched him with dazed eyes, and as you’d done for him, he helped you redress. You had so many things you wanted to talk to him about, about how he thought of himself, about why he hadn’t believed that you cared, but you weren’t sure how to begin.

“Connor saw it,” Nines said, seeming to sense the topic you were stuck on. “What was between us.”

You nodded. “That’s why he sent us to the archive. He must have hoped we’d talk if we…” You trailed off, eyes widening. “Oh shit! Did he trap us in here?”

Nines frowned, his LED immediately flickering yellow.

“It was him,” he confirmed after a short, silent conversation. “I told him to get us moving again.”

“That sneaky little bastard!” you exclaimed, although you were too blissed out to be angry. Besides, his stupid plan had worked.

“He saw that you cared for me,” Nines surmised. “And he saw that I was fascinated by you. When that gunman was in reception today, I…I was struck with the possibility of you being hurt, and it was…difficult to deal with. I think Connor must have seen my struggles.”

“I didn’t like seeing you hurt either. You were shot.”

“I was repaired,” he assured you. “I had to act quickly, to protect you.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond to such a declaration. You squinted as the lights came back on, the elevator jolting into movement once again, and you shelved it all for later.

“Want to come home with me?” you asked. You needed to feel him inside you, but not in a crappy DPD elevator.

Nines managed a small smile and nodded. “On one condition. When Connor meets us outside the elevator doors, where he’ll inevitably be, we pretend that nothing happened.”

Your lips curved into a sly grin. “Deal.”

One day soon, you’d let Connor know his efforts hadn’t been in vain, but in the meantime, you’d punish him for trapping you.

It felt good, having Nines as a co-conspirator, and it took a lot of effort for you to walk out of the elevator like nothing had changed. It was harder still not to laugh at Connor’s annoyed expression. Much later, after Nines had almost fucked you into a coma, you reflected that maybe you forgave Connor just a little bit.

some more!! hehe

I saw the plot twist coming and I still ate it up

The Box

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Tony finds Peter’s box of condoms and confronts you

Masterlist

“Do either of you want to explain this?”

To punctuate his sentence, Tony slammed a small box of condoms down on the table in front of you. You immediately recognized the packaging and looked at Peter in fear. Peter looked just as scared, but gave your knee a squeeze to assure you that he had it handled.

“Um,” he gulped, “it’s a box of-“

“I know what it’s a box of.” Tony cut him off. “Actually, I knew what it used to be a box of. But for some reason…”

Tony dumped the box over and all but two condoms fell out. Your eyes somehow went even wider as the situation somehow got even worse. You knew it couldn’t be a good thing when Tony called you and Peter into the living room, you just never imagined it would be this bad.

“It’s empty.” He continued. “Can either of you heathens tell me why it’s empty?”

Keep reading

Megumi isn't one for public displays of affection, which is why you jolt a little when he suddenly winds an arm around your waist and pulls you so, so close to him.

"You alright?" you ask him, threading your fingers through his hand that tugs at your waist.

He squeezes, then makes a little sound deep in his throat. When you look at him, his pretty mouth is set in a line, and he's staring daggers across the room.

You laugh a little– nervous, a bit incredulous, watching the blush climb to the tips of his ears– then follow his line of sight to where a group of guys stands. They're sizing up Megumi, one of them smiling at you. When he meets Megumi's eyes, the smile seems to melt from his lips and he turns his back.

Oh.

Megumi's lips press against your jaw. You lift your chin and angle your body into his. "Did you think they were–"

"Checking you out? Yeah," he says, nudging your cheek with his nose.

You hadn't known him to be jealous before, and if you're honest with yourself, it's both flattering and maybe a little bit concerning. You aren't one to be possessed and controlled, but something about him protecting you from being objectified makes your chest swell with pride. It feels good to be wanted so intensely by someone.

So you take his face between your palms and make him look you in the eye. "I'm yours, Megumi."

His eyes flit back to the group. "Just making sure they know that."

You push a little harder, smashing his cheeks until his lips pucker. "Do you know it?"

He searches your face for a moment, his expression unreadable, if not a bit serious. After a moment, he visibly relaxes, then leaves a featherlight kiss on your mouth.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."