#damn that felt cringe...

[drunkonduty]

Eddsworld fandom (some of): *very interesting fanfics, arts, projects, fan animations, shows, rewrites about cool angst and romantic relationships alongside betrayal and war in-between similar yet different worlds*

The actual show:

[icantbotherwithusernames]

i know tumblr’s not the best place for videos, but i did work on this pmv for @stump-not-found 's Theseus’ Guide for a while so i thought i’d share it here lol

is it okay to just put up a yt link. idk anymore man

[elftwink]

one thing i've been doing when i do something embarrassing and am about to spiral that has been surprisingly helpful is i ask myself "would i do that again, if i was in another situation like that?"

if no -> great, lesson learned! the embarrassment has served its purpose and we can keep it moving

if yes -> okay well sometimes in life things are a little embarrassing but still the right thing to do so let's not beat ourselves up over something that is so worth doing we'd do it again despite the embarrassment

this doesn't "get rid" of the embarrassment (unfortunately you have to feel your feelings ://// suckssssss but also it's the only reason life is worth living so eh) but it does help curb the 5 hours of agony that usually proceed it

[ratblazer]

had a talk about embracing cringe and old deviantart ocs, so of course I had to draw my boy the way god intended

[invinciblerodent]

finally finished the latest episode of Vows and Vengeance too...

Gotta say, this has been the one that's felt most like a sidequest so far. Like for me, this one was kind of a stretch that was maybe a tad bit too far from the plot it was going for, and I get that it wanted to show us Drayden's backstory a bit, but... idk, it just felt a bit lacking in focus to me.

Also, either there is sexism in Antiva (like when the Captain talked about how the bride whose name I don't recall was "a daughter" [or did he say "a girl"?] that time, man, wow), or someone forgot that there wasn't supposed to be sexism in Thedas again, lol.

Overall, wasn't my favorite episode so far- this one was actually the first one I listened to in two parts.

[frolicking-cat]

No you cannot understand. My life got monotonous as fuck during the last two years because of uni (plus a draining, toxic relationship whoops) to the point where I was on autopilot all the time and. out of ALL THINGS. what has now got me feeling like myself again is fucking deadpool and wolverine.

Turns out I just needed to be obscenely obsessed with something again

[distrxst]

"Holy shit. She's infected." - Some random peasant anon I dunno but it's directed to Bobby about Laure :3c

" shh ! shut up, shut up ! are you fucking dim ? "

he quickly hushes the merchant before him , flames crackling as his eye darts around the bustling marketplace . his drunken detour had set them back a couple of days, suppository's arm needing patched up -- and that fugly alchemist sent bobby out with nothing but an unfortunately well-drawn picture ( eugh ), and an order to retrieve some kind of medical salve . he didn't know jack shit about anything of the like ,, and had merely asked for ' whatever helps with this ' . the immortal hadn't expected the shop keep to be such a blathering bitch at the mere sight of the image . unprofessional . something something, doctor-patient confidentiality- whatever . that certainly wouldn't be relevant at a later date .

" she's obviously - " a glance back to the drawing, " NOT infected . it's a mere flesh wound . that's why we need your shitty product - for my . not infected friend . and her stupid not infected arm . "

[aggressiveguitarnoises]

having compassion for yourself feels impossible when the factors outside seem to prove otherwise

[quietstime]

♟

[non-un-topo]

This is your permission to take advantage of some ridiculously harsh sunlight for the specific purpose of posting low-quality cringe

[peachyykira]

.

[indigospyder]

I am unwell,,, I have unlocked an inner joy I shut away after graduating high school and feel an intense love and enthusiasm for the first time in literally seven years…….

…..and it’s beCAUSE OF A FICTIONAL 30-SOMETHING BISEXUAL ARCHIVIST

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The divorce papers had been signed that afternoon, three years of marriage reduced to legal documents and a splitting of assets… That’s how Nanami found himself at the local bar, liquid amber burning down his throat, tie loosened, the weight of his wedding ring suddenly unbearable… 

Then you walked in.

Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. College girl written in the innocent tilt of your yellow sundress, the way it clings to your waist, your breasts, the hem flirtatiously brushing against your thighs.

You look so sweet, he thought. A drink like the ones the men were buying you would surely corrupt your pretty mouth, but you sipped with an ease that spoke of experience, even when you cringe at the taste, making the guys around you laugh. 

It made him think about his wife -his ex wife now- the last time they made love, when she bit her lips to hold back a moan, as if afraid someone might hear. He wondered what noises you would make if you were on top of him, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into your tight pussy. 

Would you call out his name? Moan like a whore? Would you beg him to go harder? Deeper? Or would you be shy, too embarrassed to ask for what you really wanted, forcing him to take what he wants, making you take it?

He shook his head and knocked back the rest of his whiskey, trying to clear his mind. You were far too young, far too innocent... Nanami looked away... He had no right to feel this way about a female he didn't know, a girl that had her whole life ahead of her.

You ordered something sweet and fruity while he nursed his drink, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear. And then, your eyes met his.

He doesn't remember buying you drinks. Doesn't remember the conversation that led to your hand on his thigh, your breath wine-sweet against his ear as you whispered, "I know somewhere quiet."

But he remembers his Lexus. God, he'll never forget the damn Lexus. 

"Fuck-" The word tears from his throat as you sink down onto him, your tight cunt splitty open around his cock like you were made for this moment. The leather seats creak beneath you both, divorce papers scattered on the floor like confetti celebrating his rebirth.

You were so goddamn young, so wet, so eager- everything his ex wife hadn't been in years, and my god... You're so fucking tight it hurts, and he's so fucking thick you can barely breathe around the stretch. Your sundress is hiked up around your waist, his hands fisted in the fabric and your hair- his wedding ring catching strands as he holds you against his body.

"You- mph - you're going to ruin me," His hips jerk up involuntarily, "aren't you?" driving deeper, and you cry out like he's hitting some spot inside of you that only a man like him can reach. He's massive- way more massive than you initially thought, thick enough that your eyes water, that your cunt burns trying to stretch around him. The head of his cock forcing your walls apart, claiming every inch as you slowly take him to the base. 

Nanami can feel you trying to adjust to his size, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each bounce as you babble incoherently- "S'too-m'fuckfuckfuck-sh'too big!!" tears leaking from your eyes, "don' ev-even know -hah - your n-name!"

His name is Nanami, but that doesn't matter... He felt how your pussy clenched at your words. You were getting off on the wrongness of the situation, just like he was. The depravity of it- this older man using your young body, his wedding ring cool against your skin. 

You don't know him, don't care who he is, and that makes this all the more exciting.

His lips crash against yours, swallowing every little noise you make as he ruts up into your heat, the windows fogging up, the car shaking with the force of his thrusts.

"S'doesn't matter," is all he says, his voice low, husky while his one hand guides your hips in a rhythm that makes his vision blur.

The condom stretches tight around him, already straining from how hard he is, how deep he's buried inside your young cunt. He can feel your orgasm building in the tremor of your thighs, the way your breath comes in desperate little gasps.

When you come, you scream. Actually scream, head thrown back like a religious experience, and your pussy clamps down so hard he sees stars. The sensation drags out his own climax, his hips lifting clean off the seat as he empties himself into the latex barrier. 

The condom swells inside you, and you whimper at the added pressure, grinding down like you want to milk every last drop from him. Your cunt spasms around the intrusion, wringing another orgasm from your oversensitive nerves.

Afterward, you collapse against his chest, both of you breathing like survivors... His wedding ring still tangled in your hair... 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It happens again a week later. Then again. And again.

Always his car. Always that same desperate hunger, like he’s trying to fuck the loneliness out of himself. You learn to take him easier, your body adapting to his size, but he never gets used to how perfectly you fit around him.

"Missed this," he groans against your neck as he bends you over in the backseat, your sundress -a different one, pink this time- bunched around your waist, pink lace panties ripped and tossed in the front seat, "Thought about you all week."

His cock twitches inside you, and the way his hands grip your waist possessively, you believe him.

You feel his breath hitch when you start to move against him, grinding your hips back against his, feeling him so deep you could choke on it, the head of his cock pressing so hard- nestled against the opening of your womb. You swear if you looked down you’d see a perfect outline of it stretching out your stomach.

With a cock-drunk smile you can't help but imagine him coming inside you, painting the deepest part of you with his seed. "Mmn, missed this, too, Nanami-san~" you gasp sweetly, the confession falling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

He wants to say more, his tongue heavy with words unspoken- "missed you", "you're beautiful", "god, I can't get enough of you"… He always wants to say more.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he fucks you like he owns you, like your young cunt exists solely for his pleasure.

He never gives you his number, never takes you anywhere but his car, and when he pulls out, the condom is always filled to the brim with his cum- stretched obscenely with your arousal coating the outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Three weeks later after he's fucked you stupid in his car, he asks you, "Come home with me tonight." The words are quiet, almost uncertain.

You look up at him from where you’re starting to doze off against his chest, "Your place?"

"My place." His fingers trace patterns on your bare shoulder, "Stay the night."

His apartment is exactly what you’d expected- minimalist, expensive, cold. But his bed is warm, and he fucks you properly there, taking his time to explore your body, to discover the things that made those pretty lashes flutter, those gorgeous lips moan his name., "K-Kento~♡!"

He’s so gentle, so slow, making you come so many times that by the time you finally pass out, the sheets were soaked, his cock still buried deep inside with a condom so full of cum, it nearly split at the seams.

That night Nanami watches you sleep, the way your hair fans out around your face, the little snores escaping your parted lips. He brushes a lock of hair from your cheek, a sudden ache in his chest as he sighs, "What am I doing?" This was wrong, "I'm too old for you," he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours while gathering you in his arms, "This can't be a long-term thing…"

His voice trails off, the warmth of your body against his pulling him under.

"This can't be a long-term thing," he repeats the words in his dreams, and it sounds like a lie.

In the morning, he makes coffee and breakfast… Actual pancakes, not the instant kind from your dorm.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It becomes routine. Your toothbrush joins his, the spare pajamas in his drawer are yours, and his apartment begins to smell like flowers and the perfume you wear. He drops you off at lectures, picks you up after. Pays for textbooks without blinking. Watches you study at his kitchen table while he cooks dinner, domestic in a way that terrifies him.

Nanami even learns your coffee order at Starbucks- extra vanilla syrup, always, because you're still young and believe sweetness won't hurt you. When the barista flirts with you, his jaw tightens, the way his hand tightens around his own cup. You thought at first that it was just anger, irritation at the line, but-

"Jealous?" You ask as the two of you exit the store, sipping your drinks.

"Why would I be jealous?" He responds coolly, even though his heart is hammering. He keeps trying to tell himself that this isn't an exclusive thing, even if he does call you his pretty girl while you bounce on his cock. It isn't exclusive… even though he bought a new bed to accommodate both of you. A king sized bed, the most comfortable one in the store, because his favorite thing is watching you fall apart beneath him, above him, against him… falling asleep with your scent in his lungs, waking up to your sleepy smile…

You're free to date whoever you want… but the thought makes his stomach churn…

"Beeeecause~ the cute barista was totally hitting on me," You grin, "He even gave me his number on the napkin."

"Oh?" His tone is disinterested, but his jaw ticks, and there's something dark in his eyes when he looks at you.

"Yeah, see," You show him the napkin, and sure enough, the guy had wrote his name and phone number, and-

Nanami stops.

The napkin even has a little note scribbled at the bottom, a flirtatious one saying, Call Me Anytime Cutie ;).

And that's when Nanami snaps.

He drags you back to his car, his grip bruising, and when you look up at him with those big eyes, lashes fluttering innocently… the idea that someone else might touch you like this, might hear the noises you make when you're close, might get to see the look on your face when you come undone, and god, the way you say his name…

Fuck.

He doesn't want to share.

He's become possessive.

And that afternoon he proves it. Has you bent over the hood of his car in the parking garage, splitting you open with his cock while he growls about who you belong to. Your pussy gripping him like a vice, your juices running down the car and dripping onto the cement below as he fucks you harder than he ever has- condom threatening to split around his cock with every thrust.

"Y-Yes!!!~♡," you sob, because it's true. Because somewhere between the first time he made you come and now, you became his completely.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One morning Nanami comes home after his run, a rare day off, and finds you sitting at his table in the kitchen, dressed only in his button-up, the one he wore to work the day before. Yout hair is still sleep mussed, your favorite mug of his in your hand, and its like his breath leaves him, his heart hammering against his ribs, because for the first time in a long time… Nanami Kento is happy.

He loves you…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here like this- wife like and wearing his shirt. Greeting him each night he comes home late… 

Shit…

Nanami Kento was completely and utterly in love with you.

The realization hits him like a truck, and his mouth at that moment goes dry.

As you turn to him, eyes still sleepy, he also realizes he wants to memorize this moment, to preserve it forever- the early morning sun casting a beautiful glow on your skin, the soft curve of your bare shoulder. 

"Mornin', Kento," you smile at him, and he can’t take it anymore. He can’t hide this from you any longer. 

"Come here," 

"Mm? What's up?"

"Just-" He can’t speak, not properly, so he grabs your wrist in the most gentle way he can manage and tugs you from your seat, pressing you flush against his body, his hand finding your cheek, thumb tracing your lower lip.

"K-Kento, what are y-"

"I love you."

Your eyes widen, lips parting, and for a second he’s terrified. Worried that this will change everything, and then- 

"I-I love you, too. I just-" You look away for a moment, the sweetest blush spreading across your face- your smile the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, "I just didn’t know how you would- I didn’t want to scare you away…" 

God, you could never scare him away. Never. And a part of him hated himself for ever making you feel that way. That the only reason you didn't tell him is because you thought it would drive him away. 

"I love you," he breathes again, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his forehead pressing against yours, "So much. You could never scare me away, darling."

The kiss that followed was everything he's ever wanted. Soft, sweet and loving- everything a first kiss should be, and when the two of you part, he whispers your name against your lips, as if trying to reassure himself that this was real.

That night he takes you in his arms, carrying you up to the king size bed so that he can show you just how much he loves you. To show you just how serious he is about you. 

"No condom tonight," he whispers in your ear, his arms wrapped around you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pulls back to look at your face. 

"Mn," You nod, "Sounds fun~, but you know I’m-"

"I know… You're not on the pill," he interrupts, the corners of his mouth quirking up, "but we'll just have to deal with the consequences, won't we?"

The consequences… 

He’s never sounded so happy about anything. 

"I want to feel you," he breathes, rolling his hips, slowly, deeply, tenderly as he nudges against your entrance, "want to fill you up properly… Make you really mine," he kisses your cheek, "Make a family."

"Ahhn~♡," the moan that is drawn from your lips as his cock sinks into was music to his ears. No latex, no barrier between your bodies, just thick, bare cock spreading you open. It was indescribable- the way he filled you up, the heat of his length, every vein and ridge rubbing deliciously along the sensitive walls of your pussy. 

"God, you're perfect," he groans, and when his cock kisses your womb, his hips twitch involuntarily. The thought of his seed flooding your deepest parts was far too alluring- painting your walls white, coating the entrance of your womb, the image of your belly round and heavy with his child making his cock throb inside of you.

"Please~���" gasping as he fills you completely- not just with his cock, but with the promise of something more permanent. 

He cums inside you that night, and every night after, marking you as his in the most intimate way possible. 

This started with divorce papers and whiskey, but it had become something else entirely. Something that tastes like forever and feels like coming home.

[blkkizzat]

Mess Up Your White Tee, I'll Eat You Dirty~ ♡

Otaku!Gojo x Bimbo!Reader~ ♡

𝐜𝐰: otaku!gojo—nuff said ♡ minor references to this thirst. 𝐰𝐜: 2670 𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐮!𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬: @buttercupblu143 for goated inspo & @yung-notorious for beta.

Otaku!gojo who has you tooted up, ass-naked on all fours—your knees planted at on the bed, titties squished into the mattress. Your feet dangling off the edge as your toes curl just like your spine—deeply in a mean arch.

Never failing to make you the star of his own hentai fantasies, of course Gojo loves to have you spread wide for him.

Both your asshole and pussy exposed, gaping on full display so your freakass otaku boyfriend can devour your pussy from the back like she's a refreshing bowl of kakigori on a hot summer day.

Although it's not like Gojo can enjoy the view when he's practically drowning himself in your cunny. His face obscenely drenched and dripping with your juices as he slurs deliriously into your gooey hole.

"Bunnn, s'gud—shiiii... s-she's mochi sweet~!"

Gojo's favorite lil' mochi ball, of course, being your clit. So cute and swollen, he makes sure to pay special attention to her as he takes his time savoring the texture of your sensitive flesh.

In between the suction of his sloppy puckered lips, Gojo's tongue peaks out to lap gently at her before swirling the tip across every nerve on your lewd bud. The tortuously euphoric sensations leaving you seeing stars as you've lost track on how many times you've cum thus far.

The results of Gojo's messy eating gush through your folds, ass and thighs as your slick and his spit reflects a glossy sheen that glows in the dim room when the first rays of early morning light pour in.

That's right—it's already morning.

Shiiit.

You'd lost count of how long he'd been at it when he said he needed a 'midnight snack'. Yet this is completely your own fault Bunny for telling Toru he could 'eat whatever he wanted, as long as he didn't get crumbs in the bed again.'

You didn't think the first thing he'd reach for would be you!

Nevermind that you felt like crumbling yourself—limbs frail like goo, you can't even run now. Utterly at this otaku freak's mercy and he didn't look like he was slowing down anytime soon.

"P-Please...s't-toru—hiccup—stawp, enough..."

But his perverted nonsensical coos for you to stay still make him sound like a weak and wounded animal—like the lil' freak actually thought he'd die if he didn't bury his face deeper into your quivering cunt.

The sound grips at your heartstrings and would almost have you feeling sympathetic for him if it wasn't for the contrast of Gojo's own swiney hands gripping onto your hips with unearthly strength, keeping you in place—making you feel more like the prey.

Truthfully you weren't going anywhere and no matter how pathetically helpless Gojo appeared, he'd always muster the most devout dedication to worshipping your body.

All you can do is brace yourself right now, biting down harder on the sheets. As a testament to that wet spot beneath you is bigger than your own face at this point. Evidence of how badly you've drooled and damn near chewed a hole through the custom 100% egyptian cotton digimon themed linen.

But it's times like these you were thankful your eyes spent more time in the back of your head then starring the cute cuddly Gatomon and Gammamon characters smiling back at you on the sheets—they were too innocent to be subjected to Toru's depravity, they—

—wait! The hell!? For that matter how come you even remember their names!? Urgh.

"O-One more... jusss' one more! P-Plwease, Bunny! My ecchi angel... blwess me with your holy pussy water jussst once more my pervy prwincess, I-I need it!"

Gojo's words have you both recoiling a mix of cringe and overstimulation as you feel him pull back briefly to spit a wad of fluids onto your plump sloppy pussy only to just as quickly slurp the suds back up again.

The wet, gurgling sounds of his lecherous gluttony echo in surround sound throughout the bedroom.

Yet despite all the shame and cringe the most overwhelming feeling is the disbelief that your body hadn't gone completely numb already—somehow you feel another orgasm building, relentless and inevitable.

God, something had to be equally as wrong with you for enjoying Toru's ecchi ways this much, not to mention, remembering the names of actual digimon on the sheets—Gojo's otaku influences would literally be the end of you...

Furthermore, you even don't know how Gojo's still going at this point!

Although you were making a big enough mess all yourself, you knew the sheets below your hips were not only stained with your creamy fluids but his own thick cum. A small puddle had formed on the completely saturated sheets as you couldn't keep track of how many times the lil' freak has cum—moaning obscenities into your pussy as he nuzzles your asshole down to your clit with his entire face.

All the while dick throbbing against the bed completely untouched each time.

He should have been tapped out from dehydration by now.

You had to do something to stop this seemingly never ending cycle—get him to fuck you somehow or something so your pussy could finally drain his completely balls dry and you could get some well earned sleep!

Like clockwork, upon another warm ejaculation spurts out to splash against your knees. The intensity of Gojo's throaty cries soften against your skin and you can feel gojo's insane grip on your cheeks loosening slightly.

Now is your chance before he recovers—you absolutely have to use this moment to turn things to your advantage!

Willing your body to cooperate, your arms are trembling as you push yourself upright. Torso rising while your legs slip further off the bed, towards the floor—seeking just enough leverage to turn around. You’re so focused, gathering the energy just to move a bit, you don’t even notice the sole of your foot brushing—ever so lightly and completely unintentional—right up against Gojo’s cock.

Immediately the raw sound that leaves him is sharp and guttural, a croaked moan straight from the depths of his chest as his eyes shoot open wide. Already hypersensitive and twitchy from release—not to mention delirious with lust from eating your coochie damn near off the bone all night—your foot is the last thing Gojo expects to feel in the moment.

Gojo’s sudden cry startles you, making you freeze mid-motion. The jolt steals your momentum, and before you can recover, your arms buckle beneath you—sending you crashing back down face-first into the sticky, aftermath of your own undoing.

But it's too late now... and before you know it Gojo grabs your ankles, repositioning you back into your arch as he pulls your feet up and together, slotting his thick, throbbing length between them.

Shit the feeling is almost painful.

Gojo forces his cock, still red and throbbing from just previously ejaculating to rub against the soft soles of your feet—fuck they are just too warm and welcoming to resist fucking into!

Any attempts to jerk away are even more futile than before in this position.

In fact, you're actually spurring him on.

You don't realize it, but the way your toes are squirming has them unintentionally fondling gojo's big breeder sack, already engorged as his more turned on than ever—full with his next creamy load ready to blow.

Gojo himself is in utter bliss.

He truly loves every inch of you—even if you are usually too ticklish and embarrassed to let him worship your feet for very long.

But this—your angelic, goddess-like hentai footies wrapped around his dick?

Amazing.

Phenomenal.

Revolutionary even!

In his mind Gojo deems it the best fucking sheath for his hard and leaky cock...well, third best other than your pretty mouth and perfect pussy of course!

Gojo thrust begin slow at first, the head of his cock sliding between your arches, his previous spilled release smearing across your skin like a filthy markings a dog would of his own territory.

God, why hadn't plotted to use your divine lil' feetsies as a onahole before!?

Well, Gojo suppose he has.

He's definitely rubbed his dick feverishly against the dakimakura image of you, which highlighted how cute and pretty your feet were, whenever you're away.

Gojo had made a custom printed pillow—one of many versions—decorated with the image his favorite shot from that absurdly over-the-top yet iconic photoshoot he somehow convinced you to do—ya know, the one where you actually let him dress you in his homemade Digimon TCG lingerie.

Those ultra rare and some one-of-a-kind cards sewn together with obsessive care with paper paste and dental floss adorned your kneeling body in the photo.

Heels tucked right beside your ass, feet bare and exposed as the only parts of your body were covered were clad in a scandalous collage of holographic Megas. One of your arms folded defensively under the shiny balconette-like-card-bra—the other behind you as your back arched just right looking over your shoulder at him with wide, uncertain eyes. The cards formed lingerie so epically scandalous it could both summon a digital monster and a nosebleed—and it surely had that effect for Gojo.

The very peak of 'ecchi cosplay couture', Gojo had nutted many times over the perfect image from the perfect memory of you looking both mortified and turned on—dressed like the final boss of his wet dreams and immortalized on a dakimakura he had made MANY prints of for when he inevitably dirtied one beyond repair.

But now? This?

Gojo doesn't think the dakimakura does the seductively silken feeling of your actual feet on his cock any justice—he's hooked like an addict now.

“F-Fuhhhck, B-Bunny bae, your feet feel s-s'gud, angel.”

Even with his cock melting between your footies, Gojo can't keep his face outta your cunt for long.

Only allowing you what seems like mere moments of reprieve before his tongue dives back right in. Licking, fucking and sucking it into your gummy hole like he’s trying to juice every last drop of pleasure from your peachy pussy. Your ass jiggles from your ankles jerking your legs back with every thrust of his hard cock pumping between your feets.

And despite your utter repulsion at the way your feet being so vulgarly violated—you're moaning, shamelessly writhing even at all the foreign sensations.

You're absolutely mortified—you think you are... at least you would be if the absolute perverted frenzy Gojo worked himself into wasn't affecting you as well. The once ticklish tingles that would have your recoiling are now amplifying the electricity you feel in your core and despite yourself you're sinking back into Gojo's face—much to his excitement.

No matter how hard you try not to be as turned on as you are, Gojo's pure otaku fueled depravity is too contagious.

You lose yourself and your senses melt in the sound of skin slicking and squelching as his long length slides along your skin.

So wet—so obscene—mingling with the slurps of his tongue still gorging on your cunt, working her overtime. You clench around his tongue, obediently giving him more and more of the creamy essence his flicks beckon forth.

In turn, Gojo's hips piston even faster now—his hot girth sliding through the tight tunnel of your feet he uses his palms to press even deeper around. The intense friction making him babble more delusional praises into your cunt.

"Ah-Ah-Ahhhh shiiiiiit my sweet perverted hentai queen's feet is g-gonna make me blow s'f-fucking hard—ya foot pussy gonna be a gud nasty girl for me n'take it all Bunny?!?!"

Gojo growls, his voice distorts into your pussy once more, the erotic hums building uncontrollable pressure in your belly as your final orgasm coils tight like a spring.

Likewise Gojo's length is thrashing wildly between your feet, the tip oozing precum with every thrust, as his balls slap roughly into your curled toes—he’s so close.

"C-Cumm, cum, cum, cum—ah, with m-me pwease pwincess, wuv you—all of you, pussy, feet, ass—HAH!"

More deranged than ever, you don't know how you can even understand his desperate muffled pleas and yet somehow your body does. Because just like that, you’re coming undone, your pussy spasming as pleasure wrecks through your body. Feet arching, constricting even more around his cock, milking him as he lets out the most pathetic whine of the night so far.

Gojo blunted nails dig around your ankles as his thrusts slow. His cum still somehow shooting out in thick, hot ropes, splattering across your soles all the way up to the back of your thighs, splashing down on the bed and floor.

Finally spent, Gojo pulls out, dragging you too him—he's trembling, you both are. Yet while he's deliriously giggling, your legs still twitch as you can still sense the phantom strokes of his tongue digging into your cunny. Your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of what seemed like non stop orgasms all night.

It's almost enough for you to want his cock up there for real now if every other muscle in your body wasn't screaming for rest, fearful he'd catch a second, no, fourth wind of the night.

Gojo mutters against your skin, his voice hoarse.

“You’re so so fucking perfect Bunny, m'so lucky to have a princess as pervy and nasty as you.”

Gojo softly peppers kisses on your neck but you ignore him as you hum in response.

Eyes shut—you're preoccupied. Your brain bargaining with your body on if and how you were going to manage to get up, at least long enough to grab the wet wipes from Gojo's desk and rip the nasty sheets off the bed.

"My Bunny-hime, don't worry about the mess, I'll buzz the maid—"

"NO!!"

Eyes flying open you immediately reject the offer. The last thing you wanted was to see any of the night shift maids who you suspect heard the symphony of lewd noises coming from the room all night—typically being close by in case they were ever needed.

You already have a hard time looking any of the staff of the Gojo residence in the manner. Even if they all seem perfectly "normalized" to the eccentric tastes of the family, what with routine maintenance of the sex dungeon and all. You don't see them bat and eye as they look completely normal, transporting baskets of sanitized sex toys or cleaning and dusting the expansive lewd museum of hentai figures.

"Mmm, n-no, Toru... I mean, its late, ah, I mean super early still! Don't bother them, just... let's just go sleep in a guest room hm? I just wanna cuddle."

You manage a small tight lipped smile in your exhaustion. You knew how much he loved sleeping in his own room, on his custom digimon sheets but you're hoping the promise of cuddling and softly caressing his undercut would be enough in his exhaustion to spare you the embarrassment.

"Kay! Whatever, you wish my ecchi angel!"

You sigh in relief as Gojo slips a t-shirt over you before he scoops you up princess time. His own arms are shaky with exhaustion but you feel comforted in the fact you know he'd sooner die then ever drop you. Also you are thrilled you didn't have to remind him anymore to at least cloth you before he tried to leave his room.

Burrowing your face in his chest you drift off as you feel his arms.

Otaku!gojo who smiles once more as he sees you drift off, placing a kiss to your forehead. His own thoughts drifting as he makes his way to one of the many Gojo estate guestrooms.

As much as he loves fucking your pussy, he wonders if you'd let him fuck other parts of your body now... like your armpit.

Oh! Oh! Maybe if he shibari tied your leg and thigh together he could fuck the crease of your thigh...

Gojo’s face lights up with excitement, eyes gleaming as he looks down, ready to ask what you’d think about that—only to find you fast asleep.

He chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Yeah… he’d let you rest for now.

an: hopefully this lil throwaway oneshot can hold you otaku!gojo girlies off for a while 🩵🤭. i'm still working on the nursery p3 but i got a burst of inspo when i was told the gospel of forced footjobs while getting eaten out from the back. hsjdfbkjshdbfs. i think this one even out freaks the suguru footjob fic i did. btw, manga is 'oohata-san is my dream gyaru!' (there's an hentai coming soon i talk about that and link the preview here)

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the non-mc significant other of lead guitarist! Sylus. part2

Imagine the night was going well, last set of play and they were done for the day until that damn request card came. The way he stared at it under the stage light, jaw ticking, heart twisting in quiet dread. Lips of an Angel. He didn’t need to flip it over. He already knew who it was from.

Imagine the way he gripped the card tighter, wishing it would dissolve in his fist. A request like this wasn’t just a song. It was a test. A fucking ghost tapping on his shoulder. He looked over at the frontman, already nodding, already smiling that smug smile that said "Just do it. One more time won’t kill you."

Imagine he wanted to say no. He should have said no. He almost did. But the crowd was waiting, and when he glanced out across the sea of dim faces, he didn’t see you. If he had, he wouldn’t have done it. Maybe.

Imagine the way the first chord came like muscle memory to him. The way his fingers danced a familiar pattern of pain. He hadn’t played this song for years. Had not sung it in longer. There was no reason for that. He never sings, only does on occasional day but mostly because nowadays, he only sing for you and only you.

Imagine the way he knew this song isn't just music. It was a confession with a melody. And tonight, he was about to lie to the only person who really mattered.

"Honey, why you calling me so late?" The words sat like broken glass in his mouth. They didn’t belong to him anymore. But she was out there.

Imagine the way her eyes, not as sweet and shiny as yours, locked on him. Like he was still that boy who used to write songs about her and pretend it didn’t hurt. Thag made something unspoken twist inside his chest. Not love. Not anymore. It was just unfinished business. The kind that rots if you never open the box.

"I gotta whisper cause I can’t be too loud." He used to believe that. Used to think love had to hide in shadows and stolen glances. But you, you showed him difference. You were sunlight and stability. You laughed at his shitty guitar riffs, kissed the calluses on his fingers, and loved him on the quiet days. You were never a secret.

"Well, my girl’s in the next room" He cringed on the inside. His stomach turned with every lyric. Because you weren't in the next room. You were probably at home, curled up with one of his old hoodies, reading the same damn novel you've been teasing him with for weeks. Or maybe out with friends, texting him when you got home safe. You were his now. And he was yours, only yours. And yet, the song came out like a betrayal he didn't mean to sing.

Imagine he looked at her, MC, only once. Just for a second. She smiled like the world hadn't moved on. Like she still owned a part of him. Maybe she did. Maybe she always would. But what he had with her was then. What he had with you was real. It was now.

Imagine the way he finished the song on autopilot. The way no amount of applause could cut through the guilt already pounding on his chest. The band moved into the next song, but he barely played. His fingers hit strings without hearing them. His mind was somewhere else. Somewhere he couldn't follow.

Imagine he didn't know you were in the crowd. He didn't know you'd planned this as a surprise. He didn't even notice the shift in the crowd. Didn't see you leave. Didn't see your face. Didn't see the hurt. Not yet. Later, when he got backstage, there was a note waiting on him. No name. No message. Just a guitar pick.

Imagine the way his heart dropped. The way he picked up the guitar pick. Custom-made. His initials engraved in your handwriting. He stared at it like it had teeth. Every second he was touching it felt like it burns him. And then it hit him. You were here.

Imagine the way he ran out of the back door. Searched the alley. The parking lot. The street. But you were long gone. The night had swallowed you whole, and it didn't even leave a single echo behind.

Imagine he went home that night and stared at the ceiling in silence. He tried calling. No answer. Tried texting. Left on read. He couldn't sleep. He could not breathe right. Every minute that passed was a beat he felt like he doesn't deserve.

Imagine, the worst part wasn't that he sang to someone he didn't love anymore. It was that he did it thinking you will never know. But you did, and what was the cause?

Imagine he never told anyone what happened that night. Not even the band. He kept it all to himself. And the pick. He kept the pick. Carried it with him like a secret punishment. You were his home. And now, he was just another man who sang the wrong song to the right person who didn’t stay long enough to hear him say sorry.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: part 4 u : imma bake some brownies rq. Bye.

[willowsnook]

breaking rules

Can we get heavy PDA Joe and everyone’s reaction

joe burrow x gf!reader 

—-------------------—----

Your friends made fun of you relentlessly because, to a lot of the outside world, it looked like you and Joe were just friends, distant cousins even. PDA made you very uncomfortable, and that paired well with Joe, who hated anyone prying into his private life. Of course, his teammates and your circle knew that the two of you were together, but the media had yet to catch on, even though you guys lived together. 

So imagine your surprise when it was now an hour into the team’s post-season dinner party, and Joe had not left your side. Usually,  at these events, you arrive together but then break off, him going to find his boyfriend Ja’Marr, and you going to hang with some of the other WAGs. Then you meet up at the end to leave, and the cycle repeats. 

But tonight, Joe’s hand had been snugly placed around your waist, even when you were talking to other people.  Missing the playoffs had hit him hard, and you had watched him retreat into his shell these past few weeks; you were there for him when he needed it. So you weren’t shocked at his lack of conversation tonight but surprised by the touch. 

The people you were talking to left to grab a drink at the bar, so you took the opportunity to turn to Joe. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, concerned. 

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. You looked down at his arm wrapped around you and back up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Just want to be close to you.” 

Nodding, you decided you’d let him have a pass tonight to be clingy, even though you were cringing on the inside. Ja’Marr called over to Joe from the other side of the room and you were dragged along to join them. He was sitting on a couch next to Tee, and Joe sat down in an armchair, pulling you down on top of him. Both of his friends’ eyes widened at the sight. 

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Ja’Marr said once he came out of shock. 

“I thought you guys would never beat the siblings allegations,” Tee chimed in and Joe flipped them off before settling his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you against his chest. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you settled into Joe's lap, acutely aware of the eyes on you. Joe seemed unfazed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he chatted with Ja'Marr and Tee. You tried to relax, reminding yourself that these were your friends, but you couldn't shake the feeling of exposure.

"You good?" Joe murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Joe pressed a soft kiss to your temple, and you heard Tee let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Joe. Who are you and what have you done with our QB1?" Tee teased.

As the night wore on, Joe's affection only intensified. He peppered kisses along your shoulder, nuzzled into your neck, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your discomfort battled with a growing warmth in your chest at his open displays of love.

"Get a room, you two!" Sam Hubbard called out as he passed by, earning a chorus of laughter and wolf whistles from nearby teammates.

Joe just grinned, pulling you impossibly closer. "Maybe we will," he shot back and you slapped him in the chest. 

Deciding you needed some air, you walked off towards the balcony, naturally with Joe right behind you. 

“I’m giving you a one-night pass for this kind of behavior only because you’ve been so depressing,” you told him and he smirked at your honesty. He stepped closer to you, sliding his arms around your waist while you rested yours on his shoulders. 

“Then I better take advantage hmm,” he said, eyes flickering down to your lips. Before you could protest, his lips were on yours, moving steadily as he found comfort in you. His hands started to dip lower, and you swatted them, causing him to smile against you. 

When you pulled back, you gave him an irritated look, and he pouted. 

“Come on princess, I just need you,” he admitted and your heart clenched at his words. You knew he was holding on to you like a lifeline and he knew you’d do anything to be there for him. 

“Fine, then let’s get a room hot shot,” you said, dragging him off the balcony and towards the front of the venue. Ja’Marr gave you a teasing wave goodbye and you flipped him off. 

Joe chuckled at your gesture, his hand laced tightly with yours as you maneuvered through the crowded room. The whispers and knowing smirks from his teammates didn’t faze him in the slightest, but you could feel your cheeks heating up again.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you muttered as you both stepped outside, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Immensely,” Joe replied, his grin only widening. “Can’t let them think I’m a robot all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. Once you reached the car, Joe opened the door for you with a flourish, earning an eye roll that turned into a laugh. He climbed in after you, wasting no time pulling you back into his lap.

“Joe,” you started to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, this one softer, less teasing, and more vulnerable.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips when he finally pulled back, his voice low and sincere. “For putting up with me tonight. For everything.”

Your heart softened as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Always, Joe. I’ve got you.”

His smile this time wasn’t the playful smirk you were used to. It was small, genuine, and filled with gratitude. You let yourself lean into him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the chain around his neck as the driver started the car.

For all the teasing and awkwardness of the night, you knew one thing for certain: Joe Burrow might not be big on PDA most of the time, but when he let his guard down like this, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.