the stars in your eyes tell me you want more, tell me love, is this all you crave?
20. mdni. nsfw side blog. hq, jjk centric. int come from main!
reqâs open!!
allures texts
Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything

No title available
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
đȘŒ
AnasAbdin
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

seen from Belgium
seen from Mexico

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China

seen from Switzerland

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Singapore

seen from Canada
seen from Canada

seen from Switzerland

seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Costa Rica
@a11ur3
the stars in your eyes tell me you want more, tell me love, is this all you crave?
20. mdni. nsfw side blog. hq, jjk centric. int come from main!
reqâs open!!
allures texts
18+ implied somnophilia, slight non-consensual voyeurism, noncon/dubcon, stalking.
you shift nervously in the leather chair across from higuruma in his office. he listens intently as you describe your stalker's behavior - spilling your guts out to the man you think is your savior. it started so sweetly, you know? you tell him, the anonymous flowers left on your doorsteps, the admiring notes left on your car. it felt like an harmless secret admirer. like someone out there just got you.
until the behaviour started changing. the flowers became wilted and dead. the notes turned possessive, detailing what you wore that day, who you talked to. and it just started getting so private, like you're being watched for twenty four hours.
you hesitate but end up telling him everything, he's just so concerned about you, and he does seem like a trustable lawyer, so you didnât want to hide any details from him. you tell him about the worst part, the thing that made you finally break down and call him. you talk about your underwear going missing from the dryer, only to reappear on your bed, stretched out, stained. you confess how you found photos of yourself on your desk. sleeping, sometimes even half naked. you tell him how you wake up feeling a little weird and there's a lingering smell like someone has been here. you're so scared, so vulnerable, and higurumaâs just nodding, taking notes, the perfect fucking professional. like he's the perfect picture of a concerned lawyer. "that's not good, when did you first notice the change in behavior?" he asks, he's so so methodical, scribbling notes on a legal pad.
you have to make friends online so you can see stuff that reminds you of the kinks and fetishes they have and you can think of them fondly with a little wistful sigh
dude im stuck in a timeloop and the only way to get out is if you let me bite your thigh so hard i leave teeth marks. just trust me dude
Grab my ass so hard that my pussy lips spread
would you fuck me if i asked you nicely
would u mind if i maybe humped my pillow to the thought of u
ugh i need to be stretched by a cock that is too thick for me
geto whoâs oh so gentle with you. brushing your hair out of your face, pressing soft kisses on your shoulders, a hand on the small of your back while you walk. how could you be surprised that a man with so much gentle nature must be rooted in rough and untamed sex after hours? usually soft hands pressing you so hard into the sheets. dark bruises and marks left all over your skin. pushing you to your absolute limit. the duality dizzying and addicting all in the same breath.
i need to get fucked sooooo fucking bad itâs driving me insane i just need someone to push my head down into the pillow and pound this wet pussy until my eyes roll back and i cant speak anymore. the urge to be fucked and bred literally woke me up lord please
dreaming of a pretty boy looking at me and touching me as if in awe while i ride him slowly
suna x reader cw:suggestive, angst, mentions of flings, break up/situationships, nostalgia, mdni
what could have been. wc 1k
for the last months that you could remember, all you did was eat, breathe, and sleep suna rintarĆ. peacefully coexisting in each others world with a sort of ease akin to settled states. your hand in his hair, draped over the couch while some documentary played mindlessly on your television. late night drives where you sat up and stood through the sunroof, your hair blaring in the wind and a smile adorning your face, bright enough to convince you both that this was enough.
this arrangement had bloomed out of need. out of desire for something real, and suna was so easy. he was giving and kind, always attentive to you and seemed to be one of the only ones who could see you. it made sense, neither of you wanted anything all that serious, you were graduating at the end of the term and he was signing to a national team. to fill the space both of you craved, with no strings attached and no label to show for it. for a while, it was innocent.
stolen kisses behind closed doors, laughing with no fear of how ridiculous the smile looked on your face. shared meals and ice cream licked off of each others lips. shared beds and waking up far too late in the morning to do anything about the day, drowning in each others presence. you kept it on the low, while others asked you about your crush you only sighed and shook your head, telling them you had no such thing. sunaâs teammates tugged at him and asked him to spill who the special girl was, to which he said he wanted to be single anyway. it was easier this way, thatâs what you had both agreed on.
right? because thereâs no reason for the strings holding your heart together to tug and wretch when you see suna tagged in pictures at parties where other girls pour alcohol into his mouth. thereâs no reason for suna to care when you blow him off to go hang out with another guy, the same guy youâll spend a week fucking the memory out of with him. but he doesnât care, and neither do you, and no, you donât talk about it. you let the weeks spin by and lull you into a comfortability that blinds you from the deadline that is your situation.
the thing about situational agreements is that they always fail. you pretend you donât feel the way his hand fits in yours perfectly, you pretend it doesnât affect you when he doesnât ask about your plans after graduation, he pretends not to care when you purposefully donât accept his follow request on his volleyball account for social media. itâs a weird dance you both partake in, because on lonely nights where you donât spend time together, you picture a life in which you were both ready to commit. where this wasnât out of the facade of necessity, that you had met him in the right circumstance. but the curiosity got the cat, and now youâre trying on your cap and gown in front of him while he sends over final contracts for the team heâs signing.
you donât talk about it when he doesnât come to your graduation. you didnât ask him to. but your eyes still searched for him in the stands, especially when he knew your family wouldnât be there. you donât talk about it when youâre not there for his signing day, even when he told you he wanted a picture with you there. no, because the next time you see him itâs all said between desperate kissing and pressing each other into sheets on borrowed time. furrowed brows and begging, begging for more, because what you have isnât enough and you both know it.
his bags are packed in his room, you sit on the edge of the bed and watch your feet dangle in the air. you hear him zipping his backpack, you pretend you donât hear how loud your heart is.
âsuna,â something pangs dangerously close to admission in your heart. he hums and pauses to look at you from across the room. âdo you ever think about-â you cut yourself off to bite your lip. itâs painful, but you think it would be worse if you wouldâve said it anyway.
in his mind thereâs one hundred things you couldâve said. one hundred things he couldâve replied with. but he doesnât push, not when you donât continue and mutter under your breath that itâs nothing. because thatâs the thing about suna, about you, about you both, you donât push the boundary line. you tip toe on the precipice of honesty and truth. but neither one of you dares to take the leap. so you spend that night lost on his mouth and begging for a goodbye worth crying over. it doesnât come.
you stare at the instagram request months later. something aches inside your heart with the shape of his name. thereâs so much left unsaid, and maybe itâs for the better. you pretend you donât notice that he picks your favorite number as his jersey number. itâs coincidence. you pretend he doesnât post nostalgic photos once a year, a few of which include candid photos of you from unsuspecting angles that no one would know was you aside from him, especially when theyâre posted on your birthday. he pretends not to see the bubbles pop up in your text thread because he too, is sitting in waiting. he pretends not to see the profile view with your username on his professional account almost every day.
thatâs the thing about the two of you. you exist liminally. in a timeline where neither of you had the courage to say what you really meant. your hearts intertwined and beating the rhythm that only belonged to the both of you for quite some time. now lost in the past of what you were. forever drowned to the sound of cowardice and fear that what you had, would never be found again.
a/n: been feeling sad so this feels like iâm a towel with all my sadness wrung out. hope you like!
suna x reader cw:suggestive, angst, mentions of flings, break up/situationships, nostalgia, mdni
what could have been. wc 1k
for the last months that you could remember, all you did was eat, breathe, and sleep suna rintarĆ. peacefully coexisting in each others world with a sort of ease akin to settled states. your hand in his hair, draped over the couch while some documentary played mindlessly on your television. late night drives where you sat up and stood through the sunroof, your hair blaring in the wind and a smile adorning your face, bright enough to convince you both that this was enough.
this arrangement had bloomed out of need. out of desire for something real, and suna was so easy. he was giving and kind, always attentive to you and seemed to be one of the only ones who could see you. it made sense, neither of you wanted anything all that serious, you were graduating at the end of the term and he was signing to a national team. to fill the space both of you craved, with no strings attached and no label to show for it. for a while, it was innocent.
stolen kisses behind closed doors, laughing with no fear of how ridiculous the smile looked on your face. shared meals and ice cream licked off of each others lips. shared beds and waking up far too late in the morning to do anything about the day, drowning in each others presence. you kept it on the low, while others asked you about your crush you only sighed and shook your head, telling them you had no such thing. sunaâs teammates tugged at him and asked him to spill who the special girl was, to which he said he wanted to be single anyway. it was easier this way, thatâs what you had both agreed on.
right? because thereâs no reason for the strings holding your heart together to tug and wretch when you see suna tagged in pictures at parties where other girls pour alcohol into his mouth. thereâs no reason for suna to care when you blow him off to go hang out with another guy, the same guy youâll spend a week fucking the memory out of with him. but he doesnât care, and neither do you, and no, you donât talk about it. you let the weeks spin by and lull you into a comfortability that blinds you from the deadline that is your situation.
the thing about situational agreements is that they always fail. you pretend you donât feel the way his hand fits in yours perfectly, you pretend it doesnât affect you when he doesnât ask about your plans after graduation, he pretends not to care when you purposefully donât accept his follow request on his volleyball account for social media. itâs a weird dance you both partake in, because on lonely nights where you donât spend time together, you picture a life in which you were both ready to commit. where this wasnât out of the facade of necessity, that you had met him in the right circumstance. but the curiosity got the cat, and now youâre trying on your cap and gown in front of him while he sends over final contracts for the team heâs signing.
you donât talk about it when he doesnât come to your graduation. you didnât ask him to. but your eyes still searched for him in the stands, especially when he knew your family wouldnât be there. you donât talk about it when youâre not there for his signing day, even when he told you he wanted a picture with you there. no, because the next time you see him itâs all said between desperate kissing and pressing each other into sheets on borrowed time. furrowed brows and begging, begging for more, because what you have isnât enough and you both know it.
his bags are packed in his room, you sit on the edge of the bed and watch your feet dangle in the air. you hear him zipping his backpack, you pretend you donât hear how loud your heart is.
âsuna,â something pangs dangerously close to admission in your heart. he hums and pauses to look at you from across the room. âdo you ever think about-â you cut yourself off to bite your lip. itâs painful, but you think it would be worse if you wouldâve said it anyway.
in his mind thereâs one hundred things you couldâve said. one hundred things he couldâve replied with. but he doesnât push, not when you donât continue and mutter under your breath that itâs nothing. because thatâs the thing about suna, about you, about you both, you donât push the boundary line. you tip toe on the precipice of honesty and truth. but neither one of you dares to take the leap. so you spend that night lost on his mouth and begging for a goodbye worth crying over. it doesnât come.
you stare at the instagram request months later. something aches inside your heart with the shape of his name. thereâs so much left unsaid, and maybe itâs for the better. you pretend you donât notice that he picks your favorite number as his jersey number. itâs coincidence. you pretend he doesnât post nostalgic photos once a year, a few of which include candid photos of you from unsuspecting angles that no one would know was you aside from him, especially when theyâre posted on your birthday. he pretends not to see the bubbles pop up in your text thread because he too, is sitting in waiting. he pretends not to see the profile view with your username on his professional account almost every day.
thatâs the thing about the two of you. you exist liminally. in a timeline where neither of you had the courage to say what you really meant. your hearts intertwined and beating the rhythm that only belonged to the both of you for quite some time. now lost in the past of what you were. forever drowned to the sound of cowardice and fear that what you had, would never be found again.
a/n: been feeling sad so this feels like iâm a towel with all my sadness wrung out. hope you like!
something so attractive about the glances you and the man you âhateâ give each other from across the room. the snarky remarks. the slamming doors. the heated kisses in empty hallways. the groaning and screaming to âget the fuck outâ. the way you know exactly which drawer they keep extra shirts in for you to throw on. the blocked contacts. the extra toothbrush in their cabinet. âheâs such a fucking dick.â to losing yourself under him.
gojo def is a throat fucker i can feel it in my right breast
>> "can i...?" (roommate/bsf!yuuji x chubby!reader)
i reread @eikyuuni 's yuuji fic at least three times a week, so please consider this my contribution to "itadori yuuji just DOES things without thinking"
tags: itadori yuuji doesnt think when he asks for things, roommates/bsf!yuuji, nipple play, a very curious best friend who sometimes is a little too curious, this is 2k words of FEVER DREAM YUUJI SMUT
there WILL be a part two. just you wait.