*Sigh* Another lonely day of daydreaming about fictional (or famous) men (and women) I can’t have.
Xuebing Du
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
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Three Goblin Art
AnasAbdin

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@beniii235
*Sigh* Another lonely day of daydreaming about fictional (or famous) men (and women) I can’t have.
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who knew that the shy, soft-spoken man would be like this in bed?
you certainly didn't. not when yuta used to look at you like eye contact alone might burn him. not when his touches were fleeting, almost hesitant.
but now? now, with his hand is at your throat, thumb resting just beneath your jaw, tilting your head back so you have no choice but to look at him?
“keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs. his voice is still soft.
you swallow, breath catching, because he’s watching you so closely, like every little reaction matters.
“you get shy now?” he asks quietly, almost curious, brushing his thumb just slightly higher, enough to make your breath stutter. “after everything you were doing earlier?”
your face burns. you try to turn away, instinct more than anything, but his grip tightens just enough to stop you.
“ah,” he exhales softly. “no. don’t hide.”
he leans in, lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you, holding you there so his breath ghosts over your mouth.
teasing.
yuta is teasing you.
it scrambles your brain.
“say you want it,” he whispers.
your heart stumbles and you don’t even have time to think before his thumb presses just a little firmer under your jaw, holding you there, keeping your gaze locked on his.
“don’t think,” he murmurs, softer now, like he’s coaxing something fragile out of you. “just tell me.”
your lips part, but nothing comes out. he watches you for a second longer, then something in his expression shifts gently. “okay,” he breathes. “i’ll help.”
his hand slides from your throat to your wrists, to your tits, to your waist, guiding slowly, showing you what he wants without forcing it, his eyes never leaving yours as your breath starts to come uneven.
“like this,” he murmurs.
“i—” your voice catches.
he pauses immediately, waits.
you swallow, chest rising too fast, and whisper, "i want it."
yuta's fingers tighten for a split second before relaxing again, exhaling like he's been holding himself back this whole time.
“good,” he says, barely above a breath.
when he kisses you, it’s deeper, hungrier, and he pushes his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your quiet, needy sounds. his hand returns to your throat, brushing the skin gently.
“you’re so responsive,” he murmurs against your lips, voice dipping softer, almost dazed. “every little thing…”
your head spins, and you shift your hips against him more, pressing your core against his cock, rubbing. desperate for more.
his forehead presses to yours for a second. “y-you don’t know what that does,” he mumbles under his breath. for a moment, the shy man you knew flickers back into place.
but then his hand slides down your arm again, steadying, guiding, reminding you exactly where he wants you.
“stay with me,” he murmurs, softer again, brushing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. “don’t run away.”
his thumb tilts your chin just enough to keep your eyes on him.
“i’ve got you.”
the first mistake was that the dorm room door wasn’t locked. the second mistake was assuming anyone would ever see 𝓨𝓾𝓳𝓲 𝓘𝓽𝓪𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓲 like this.
to the world, especially to people like nobara and gojo, yuji was sunshine incarnate. a sweet golden retriever with fists. he was so earnest and loud. the type of person who blushes at dirty jokes and apologizes more than finding excuses.
right now he was nothing like that.
you were beneath him, pressed into the mattress of his bed. his large frame loomed over you while his cock stretched your pussy wide open. his thrusts were unrelenting and unforgiving. you couldn’t think. you could barely breathe, also because his large hand was wrapped around your throat - tight enough to remind you who was in charge.
your pulse fluttered under his palm as you gasped his name. his warm eyes had turned dark with intent as he fucked you into submission.
“eyes on me,” he ordered.
you knew when he used that voice that he meant business. so, you obeyed. as a reward his thumb shifted to your windpipe, and applied pressure. heat coiled low in your stomach at how effortlessly he controlled the pace, the rhythm, even your breathing.
you were so close, and then— the door swung open.
“yuji, have you heard—”
you didn’t need to turn your head to know who it was. the sheer stunned vacuum of energy gave it away. yuji didn’t move, nor flinch, his hand still rested on your throat.
there was a long, fragile pause.
“what. the. hell. am i looking at?” nobara shrieked.
gojo, for once, didn’t have a witty comment ready. his blindfold hid his eyes, but the tilt of his head screamed theatrical disbelief. “yuji?” he drawled slowly. “is that you? or did sukuna finally decide to redecorate your personality?”
you were frozen and expected fully that yuji would scramble off and turn red. he did no such thing. his gaze flicked lazily toward the door, utterly unimpressed. “we’re busy.”
nobara made a strangled noise. “busy?!”
it felt almost grounding when yuji’s fingers tightened around your throat. even now he was protective as his body shielded yours completely.
“close the door,” he added calmly. “and knock next time.”
gojo’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again theatrically. nobara looked like she had just watched a puppy grow fangs. “since when do you—” she started.
yuji didn’t raise his voice when he held their gaze with an intensity that made even gojo pause. “out.”
there was something in his expression that said this wasn’t a joke, wasn’t a performance. this was his space and his girl.
gojo slowly pushed the door closed with one long finger. “fascinating,” he muttered. “our little golden retriever bites.”
the door clicked shut and the silence returned. yuji exhaled softly, gaze immediately returning to you. the hardness in his eyes melted a fraction. but his dominance stayed.
“sorry,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently along your jaw now. “where were we?” you swallowed as your pussy clenched tightly around his swollen cock. he smiled slightly. “right,” he whispered as he leaned down. “i was about to show you who owns this body.”
Can you do a smutty blurb about Eddie x reader but I want it to be like Steve has a crush on her and she’s popular so he thinks he’s got a chance but when he goes to her house for like a party she disappears and Steve goes to find her and catches her riding Eddie in her bedroom and Steve’s like wtf. Something like that but you can expand lol
warnings: 18+ nsfw. voyeurism. semi-angst. eddie's a boob man.
requests are paused !
on paper, the both of you would make absolute sense. you’re cut from the same cloth as him, living just a few doors down from the harrington house, with an absent mother and a cruel father. he found solace within your company and maybe that’s why he figures there’s really no one else for him but you.
or, a voice that sounds suspiciously like dustin, you’ve yet to untangle yourself from the heavy social restraints from high school like concepts of being cool so you’re attaching yourself to someone that looks like the beginning of a high school cliche? or you just find her pretty and you think she’s definitely in your league?
no, that’s not it — steve thinks to himself. it’s fate and not the fact that he hates nancy’s moved on already and he still doesn’t know what the hell he wants.
he brushes his thoughts aside as he spritzes on some cologne. music’s already starting to sound from your house, his nerves starting to get the best of him. it’s just a party, he reminds himself. it’s your party but it’s not new territory. he gives his hair a few more puffs of hairspray before finally making his way down to walk to your place.
if he’s right about his hunch, he won’t be leaving your side anytime soon.
—
your house is teeming with sweaty, hormonal teenagers. with the parents out of town, you’ve got no concern for any damages that the walls or floors could sustain. in fact, you’ve got no concern for anything at all except eddie’s tongue gliding down the side of your neck.
“babe-” you laugh as you try to aim, one eye shut and a ping pong ball poised in front of you. you’ve got one cup left and the jock across the table looks scared shitless. the cups in front of you are still complete. your wrist moves back and forth, testing out your own power before your fingers release the ball. it soars true, landing with a plop in the final cup across the table.
cheers erupt around you and the crowd conceals the way eddie lifts you up, your legs around his waist and his hands on your ass, from steve who had just entered the house.
a few more people come up to greet steve as eddie steals you away to your bedroom upstairs.
—
steve’s got a loose grip on the red solo cup in his hand, untouched and ignored, as he plays nice with the people in his orbit. he used to love attention like this, had basked in it, and yet he’s aching for an exit, his gaze wandering the room for a glimpse of you.
he migrates around the living room, to the den, the backyard, and finally the kitchen but has no luck in finding you. his large hand cards through his styled hair, frustration seeping into his bones. a sudden crash steals his attention and he looks over to see a broken vase by the staircase. he sighs and waves away the drunken attempts of the people around him, picking up shards of porcelain to toss before he look up the stairs.
you’re usually good with containing your party to the ground level, making sure no one rifles through your parents’ bedroom or your father’s office, but steve figures he might as well wait for you in your room. his steps are silent against the carpeted steps, lips moving as he rehearses exactly what he wants to say to you.
except poorly muffled moans sound from your door and steve frowns, ready to interrupt any idiot that was stupid and bold enough to bring someone to your room.
“that’s it, sweetheart. take it—”
disgust courses through steve; he didn’t want to hear eddie’s attempts at dirty talk.
“christ, eddie!”
steve freezes at the sound of your voice. anger seeps out of him and a concoction of intrigue and guilt fills him instead. he moves slowly to your door, slightly ajar to allow him to peek through without being caught. he’s got a view of you on top of eddie, your back partially facing him so he can catch your features at an angle.
your top is off, the smooth expanse of your back arching each time eddie ducks his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. steve can see your arm wind around the metalhead’s shoulders, your hand pushing the back of his head into your tits. it’s a carnal dance, your hips moving to a pace eddie’s set for you even before steve had climbed up the stairs.
steve swallows, rooted to where he's standing outside your bedroom door, as he lets his gaze lower to see where you've got your knees bracketing eddie's hips. your moans spill into the hall when you drop down and for a moment, steve gains enough clarity to step away except eddie's ringed hands ruck your mini skirt up to give steve a perfect view of your cunt swallowing eddie's cock.
he shifts at where he stands, his own jeans becoming unbearably tight, while you start to pick up the pace. eddie's grin is feral as you ride him, his hands possessive and strong as he mutters a few words under his breath.
"... so good for me, princess..." he croons and there's something tender in the way eddie touches you that makes steve wonder if he's missed something entirely. "— takin' my cock so well, hm?"
your resounding whimper punches a gut through steve, so needy and submissive, and it must've done something for eddie too because he plants his feet onto your bed, grasping your waist to hold you steady as he fucks up into you.
you're nothing but a rag doll when eddie gets like this, rough and desperate as you bounce in his lap. you hold onto his shoulders, head falling back when his teeth claims your pert nub, adding another lovebite to the myriad of hickeys all over your chest. "ohh fuck—! yes, yes, yes, right there...! don't stop—!" you shriek and this is it, steve's ready to take his leave except—
eddie catches his eye over your shoulder and the shit-eating smirk he sends steve makes him freeze yet again.
"that's it, princess," eddie coos but his eyes never leaves steve's, your own gaze still screwed shut as eddie's ruthless strokes has you catapulting towards your second orgasm. he lets you ride out your climax slowly, releasing your waist to splay his hand along your back. eddie guides you to lay onto him, catching your breath as you tuck your head beneath his jaw. he smells like his aftershave and a hint of weed and when you burrow your face deeper into his neck, he chuckles.
"you can come out now, harrington," you call over your shoulder.
maxed out — ft. hakari kinji
synopsis: hakari is bad at answering your texts, so you decide to send his phone's notifications something better: fraud alerts as you max out all his credit cards
word count. ❤︎ 4.1k words — ur telling me my first fic of 2026 is hakari smut . bro ur fucking lying to me HELP
before you read. ❤︎ female reader ; established relationship ; reader is a lil bit bratty ok but he likes it ; financially irresponsible reader LOL ; reader calls him kin-chan ; oral (fem receiving) ; edging ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; not proof read pls forgive my typos and errors okay say u still love me :,)
commentary. ❤︎ yeah . so . i wanna be that ex that maxed out his cards SOBS. though i do not fancy being an ex so i think we will stay together thanks
It started out as a petty fight.
You hiss, you never answer my texts, Kinji!—and Hakari hisses back, don’t text me so many times when I’m busy, then!
And you decide he deserves it after that. He does. He never wants to check his stupid phone that’s in his stupid hand most of the time, so you give him a reason to check his fucking phone. You give him a reason to pay attention to the notifications that pop up on his screen, one after the other, because he deserves it. He does.
He deserves it when you charge his card. Once. Twice. Ten times. Even more.
If he won’t answer texts, you think, he’ll surely answer transaction alerts.
me looking in the mirror after spending september counting down the days just waiting for kinktober:
and they haven't updated the series for 7 months...
me whenever i see a one shot i like but its a ONE SHOT so there's no pt 2:
omg this story is so good
"Part 1, Part 3 Masterlist"
i know you have the part 3 ready but i just can't prove it...
୨ৎ Fuck like a soldat
ECLIPSEDIARYWRITES PRESENTS ; pairing: bucky barnes x reader synopsis: no matter how much time has passed, bucky still fucks like he's the winter soldier. cw: nsfw!!!! porn with no plot, rough sex, riding, piv (unprotected), praise dirty talk, pet names (doll, attagirl, darling, baby), established relationship, dom!bucky, choking, creampie, breeding. navigation | masterlist | request form
“fuck, darling,” he muttered against your lips. you moaned into the kiss, nails clawing into bucky’s back. each thrust came harder than the last, eager to please you as much as possible. he pulls back, staring at your tear stained cheeks, drool slipping from your mouth. you were a mess—unable to form coherent sentences, simply being fucked dumb, taking him whole, being stretched out to the brim as he whispers all types of profanities in your ear. “mmfh—taking me me so well, doll,” he murmurs, breathe uneven, messy, desperate, “god baby— so tight.” “oh—buck, right there!” you cry out, a knot forming inside your stomach. his thumb started circling on your swollen clit, driving you over the edge as you come over his cock with a high-pitched sob. “i’m not done with you yet, baby.” he says, wasting no time in flipping you over, setting you on his lap as he leans back on the plush pillow behind him. your hands pressed on his chest, and carefully, you slide down on his cock, a mewl escaping your lips, “fuuuuckkk…” he grunts, “atta girl, just like that.” his calloused hands gripped your waist tightly, grinding you against him. his lips were slightly parted, panting heavily as he picked up the pace. bucky was pounding into you with feral force, each thrust emitting a grunt. “look at you… takin’ my cock like a good girl,” he moaned, his mouth falling open even wider now. your ass rippled against his hips, filling he room with obscene sounds, each slap mixed with the squelch of cum spilling out of your already used hole, forming a thick ring at the base of his dick. your whole body was trembling, you’ve lost count of how many times you came already—your pussy dripping and gushing around him, but he never stops, just keeps rutting at the same sadistic pace. “b-buckyyy!” it rips out of your throat like a sob, you couldn’t even speak properly. back arching slightly, trying to escape his thrusts. he held you even firmer, pulling you back, “stay still.” he huffs, dragging you back onto his cock. you give stifled cry in response, “too much bucky—too much!” his hands stretched out to your neck, squeezing it tightly, while being careful not to cause you any harm. his hips kept slamming into you with his seemingly endless stamina, each thrust drawing out a lewd moan from you, as you sputter out brainless rambles of ‘fuck!’ and ‘too much!’. the closer he got to his orgasm, the tighter his grip on your neck, making you squeeze around his cock. his thrusts got faster, rougher. “you can take it, i know you can.” he encourages hoarsely, before enveloping your lips in a filthy, messy, opened-mouth kiss. “I’m coming baby… fuckkkk,” he loudly sighed, pumping a few more times into you before finally releasing his hold from your neck. your cunt was pulsating, dripping with even more cum now. “you were so good for me, doll.” he exhaled, before the bed started creaking all over again.
me writing this:
soooo this was great and now i want 😫😫😫
mdni
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto are both enamored by you. you all share an economics class, a stupid credit that you all complain about. you see the two walk around on campus all the time and it surprised you seeing how well those two got along. once you learn more about them, it seemed that they both were the same, loud and arrogant, just hidden under the stress of college.
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto never tended to go for the same girl. they didn't really share a type, so hooking up with girls wasn't an issue. until you came strolling into their life. "no, i should ask her out! i'm the one who she smiled at first," gojo argued, pushing his glasses up. geto's eyes narrowed, mocking gojo's motion. "do you fuckin' hear yourself? no, i'm asking her out, get over it."
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto eventually talked things through and realized that everything could work out. these two definitely had feelings for each other, now it was getting you to join along.
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto came on strong. you all were at a party on campus, enjoying a few drinks before they dove in for the kill. one stood in front of you while the other placed his broad hand on your ribs, pulling you close. you'd never admit it out loud, but this was something out of the constant wet dreams you'd have about these two. and fuck, was it fantastic to feel both of their cocks nudge against your body, already so desperate after a mere swirl of your hips.
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto had you in the eiffel position in the upstairs bathroom. bass pounded, thrumming in your chest while you slobbered over gojo's cock, running your tongue over his thick vein. geto was hitting hard from behind, his hand striking your ass multiple times just to feel your wet pussy clench around his cock.
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto shared a sloppy kiss while they went down on you, both of them lapping up suguru's cum from your cunt. their tongues gently flicked against your clit before their swollen lips met in the middle, alternating between sucking on each other's tongues and suckling on your swollen clit. you both guide their heads, bringing their swollen lips together in another messy kiss, watching geto's cum dribble down gojo's lips.
nerd!gojo and frat boy!geto ended up in your bed that night, all three of you squeezed tight. gojo half laid on you while geto spooned you, his arms wrapped tight around the both of you. they both sighed, more than content with this new little dynamic.
do not copy, repost, or use any works. © 2025 fshgrs
"these two definitely had feelings for each other " has me dead..
in which your husband toji has a huge thing about you being his wife
the thing about toji fushiguro—the real, unvarnished truth that no one gets to see but you—is that his obsession with you being his wife isn't sweet. it isn't about cute pet names or showing you off at some boring company party. it’s primal, it’s filthy. it’s the cornerstone of his entire fucked-up existence.
it hits him at the weirdest times. you’ll be doing something utterly mundane, like reaching for a cup on the top shelf, the hem of your shirt riding up to expose a sliver of skin above your pajama pants. and he’ll just… stop. from across the room, his gaze goes heavy, dark, predatory. he’ll watch the line of your body, the domestic ease of you in his space, and something in him just… snarls with possession.
that’s mine, that’s my wife.
he gets off on the paperwork. no, seriously. he has that stupid marriage certificate locked in a safe that’s probably worth more than everything else in the apartment combined. sometimes, after a particularly shitty job, he’ll come home smelling of blood and city grime, bypass you in the kitchen, and go straight to the safe. you’ll hear the click of the lock, the rustle of paper, and then his heavy sigh. he’s not looking at it for the legalities; he’s looking at your name, written right next to his. a permanent brand. a claim that even he can’t fuck up. it calms the beast in him like nothing else.
the ring is a whole other thing. he spent an obscene amount of money on it, not because it was flashy, but because it was strong. the band is thick, practically indestructible platinum. he likes the weight of it on your finger. he’ll be fucking you, his pace brutal and unforgiving, and he’ll drag your left hand up over your head, lacing his fingers through yours just so he can feel that cold metal bite into his own skin with every thrust. a constant, grinding reminder that you’re tied to him. when he cums, it’s with a guttural groan against your neck, whispering “my wife” like it’s the dirtiest word he knows.
and he loves using it.
“make your husband dinner.”
“come warm your husband up.”
it’s never “me” or “toji.” it’s always “husband.” he’s reinforcing it, for himself more than for you. every time he says it, he’s marveling at the fact that someone like him gets to have this. gets to have you.
his protectiveness isn’t noble, it’s not chivalrous. if he even gets a whiff that someone looked at you wrong, his mind goes to the darkest places. it’s not about defending your honor; it’s about defending his property. the thought of another man’s scent on you, another man’s voice in your ear, makes him see red. he’d break every bone in their body without a second thought, not because they disrespected you, but because they dared to touch what belongs to him. and afterwards, he’d come home and fuck you raw, his hands shaking with residual adrenaline, needing to smell like you, taste like you, to cover up the violence he just wrought in your name.
the most lowkey, nasty thing? he loves your smell on his sheets. he’ll go away for a few days on a job, and he refuses to wash the pillows. he buries his face in them, in the lingering scent of your shampoo and your skin, and it’s better than any drug. it’s his anchor. the only thing that smells like home is you.
in his mind, you’re the only clean, good thing he’s ever managed to keep. and his way of worshiping that goodness is by dragging it into the gutter with him, by making sure you’re just as obsessed, just as claimed, just as filthy and his as he is yours. being toji’s wife isn’t a title. it’s a full-body brand, and he makes sure you feel the burn every single day.
he’s a possessive, obsessive bastard. and the fact that you are legally, spiritually, and completely his wife is the biggest, most constant turn-on of his entire life.
i'm OBSESSED
another day of sukuna and his nails falling victim to your viscious hello kitty addiction.
it's something that's become routine and non-negotiable over the years - you painting sukuna's nails that captivating obsidian colour they always are. right now, you're ardently focused on making a good job of it; sukuna can tell by the way your eyelids have slightly eclipsed into a squint, and that once again, you've managed to fall back on that god forsaken habit of bitting the inner part of your cheek when you're concentrated.
he stops for a moment,because you'd tease him for it, but the man loathes to see you hurt, at any capacity.
"stop it, woman. biting your cheek."
"it's a habit, okay! now hold your hands still, or else you're gonna make me mess up."
"what the fuck are you talking about? they are still. my hands don't shake."
"mhm. of course, 'kuna." you say, condescending words honeyed with jest dripping out of your mouth. you tilt your head at an angle to check your work, before brushing a final, last coat on his nails.
"okay...done!! i'm done!!"
"fucking finally. took you long enough." he says, pushing his chair out and standing up.
"nuh-uh, ryo. you know the drill. as much as you might want to escape from the tyrannical grasps of your kind, loving and beautiful girlfriend, we need to cure the nail polish under uv light first."
surprisingly, he sits back down without a sly remark, and complies with your orders. and just as he does so, a genius idea pops up in your head.
"wait, kuna, let me add something." you exit the room in a brisk walk and enter yours.
that's he when he hears it; about a minute or two of successive clatters, clinks and clanks, that make him question just what the actual shit your so called idea entailed, before you emerge out again, holding something behind your back.
"ryo, close your eyes for a second."
"what is it?"
"just close your eyes!"
he kisses his teeth in annoyance and attempts some kind of glare that might have been intimidating if you hadn't seen the man drooling on himself asleep on numerous occasions.
"sukuna ryomen. close your eyes. now."
finally, he complies, because the last time you called him by his full name, shit went down, and he was most certainly not ready for that again.
you walk closer to him, and with your previous seat replaced by what might be bordering on an unethically large collection of nail polish, you opt to perch on sukuna himself.
"ryo, push your chair out a bit. i'm sitting down."
when you sit, he's manspreading. legs wide apart, as always. he wraps a slithering arm around your waist (thankfully, that hand is dry already, or you would've genuinely hit him), tightening his grip as he leans forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. his eyes are closed, but he revels in your prescence. moments like this, where he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the new shampoo he bought you a week ago, and then feel the softness of his skin against yours are exactly why he lets you do this so often. because amidst all the years of calamity that forever plauge his soul, your prescence is a moment of respite that he could never replace.
you move his hands out from under the uv light, then pick up a bottle of small, but deadly strong nail glue and place a dot of it on the centre of his right hands' ring finger. you pick up the hello kitty charm that you had scowered the entirety of your room for, and place it on his nail, letting it dry for a minute or so.
"okay, now i'm actually done. open your eyes. like it?" you say, grinning ear to ear like a fool.
as of now, you're sat atop of sukuna ryomen - the strongest sorcerer in history, the king of curses, a lord of the golden era of jujutsu in all his glory, with a fucking hello kitty charm pressed onto his nails.
he doesn't speak. he just leans back, closes his eyes, and presses a hello-kitty-nail-ed hand against his forehead in dissappointment, or something of the like.
"what?" you coo, turning to face sukuna while you stradle him, then hold his nails out infront of you to fully inspect.
"don't you like it?"
"don't i like it? woman, do i look like i like it?"
"no, no, no, no, no, hear me out. we're matching! look!"
the man looks down at your nails, then at his. at your nails again. then at his again. he doesn't smile, but his expression softens. into, was that... a smirk almost?
"oh my god. you like it."
"you like it because we're matching?" you smile, teasing him.
you grasp him into an over dramatic hug, and then jab at him with your own matching set of nails, decked out in silver bling, pinks, french tips, sparkles and of course, hello kitty charms; the exact same as his. and for about the next 5 minutes, give or take, you don't stop taunting him with sickeningly sweet words of "kuna, you're so cute for that, you know?" , "you love me so much" and the like.
assumingly, by the look on his face, sukuna's not absolutely fucking over the moon about this like you are, for whatever reason. and so, in suit, he grasps onto the the side of you thigh, then holds onto your back as he stands up, and carries you away from the table your sat on.
" enough of that bullshit" he lets out, grunting a slurry of curses and that, maybe if you two watch something, "you'll finally stop bullshitting in my face and be quiet."
he stops infront of the couch, and throws you softly, but still hard enough to earn a yelp and repremanding from you. then he sits down next to you, and as always, you find yourself curled up in his lap, with the supple pads of your finger tips tracing along the black markings on his skin.
"you just wanted to cuddle, didn't you?"
" and you always have to get the last word, don't you?"
div by @/bernardsbendystraws
i didn't post this for a hot while cause i didn't turn out how i wanted it to and i highey do not fuck with the roll out for this at all but i have free will and will use it to abuse you all with my poorly constructed and grammar mistake infested sentences about fictional characters
18+ geto indulges his bratty girlfriend’s oral fixation
dating a man like suguru geto means surrendering, eventually, to the fact that he’s figured you out.
in the early stages of your romance, you’d tried to be discreet about your oral fixation—finger pressed to your lip while reading, straw chewed between your teeth during his lectures, thumbnail worrying the edge of your mouth whenever you thought he wasn’t paying attention. once, you blamed a particularly embarrassing nap-drool incident on low iron. he’d only raised an eyebrow. but of course he knows.
he’s always known. you like things in your mouth.
and suguru, ever the strategist, has made an art out of using that weakness against you.
“you’re staring,” he says mildly, flipping the page without sparing you a glance. his voice is smooth, deceptively gentle, like the glassy surface of a koi pond right before a ripple.
“if you’re bored, you could ask for something to suck on.”
i drew that new Toji figure lol
Username satorrruuu the way I be loving geto
MY MAN THE LOVE OF MY LIFE MY BEATIFUL GORGEOUS PRETTY PERFECT PRINCESS WITH A MENTAL DISOREDER I LOVEEEEE HIM