#jjk oc

[sweethearticism]

˖ ࣪૮₍ TALK JUJUTSU BETWEEN MY LEGS 𓂃 ⭒ jjk characters x f reader

⤿ ꒰ what's it like when they use their jujutsu in the bedroom? :: smut :: size diff :: cervix fucking :: penetrative sex :: fingering :: oral :: overstim :: tentacles :: temperature play :: orgy :: cockwarming ꒱

⌗ g.satoru :: g.suguru :: n.kento :: r.sukuna :: k.choso (omg?? ) :: i.shoko :: g.enari :: l.lisse

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ satoru who watches your belly bulge like his life depends on it.

little do you know that feral blue glow is actually six eyes. memorising every twitch of your gummy walls, how they sperate, how they strain around his girth and milk on every vein. especially how his wet tip smooches your cervix again and again. most important? he knows exactly when you're gonna cum, so he makes sure to start pounding harder and abuse your clit a lil with a small limitless vortex.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ of course suguru has some tentacle curse tucked away in his arsenal.

and of course he uses it on you at every chance he can possibly get. loves seeing you wrapped up and helpless. two thick tentacles holding your thighs open, another two restraining your arms, another pair cupping your tits with thinner extensions playing with your nipples. what he loves the most? the tentacle pumping in and out of your mouth and the one pounding into you below. his favourite has to be the one that's obsessed with your clit, though.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ shoko and her reverse curse technique means she can keep you going for houursss.

aww, you're tired? overstimmed? can't take her wet cunt gliding on yours any longer? don't worry! she gives you a quick charge up only to break you down again with three more orgasms. all so she can cup your face and croon while your clits smooch and grind together. at least she's not being mean and stealing your orgasms away with her technique huh? don't tempt her though.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ mhhm. yes. hand mouth and finger combo with sukuna.

two thick fingers pumping away at your cunt while the tongue on his palm makes your clit weep and throb. the real kicker though is when the pads of his fingers start heating up as he curls them into that spot that sends your back arching. to top it all off he'll have that greedy, swirling tongue heat up too. so not only are you getting dual stimmed but also: some fiery temperature play.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ fucking a blood manipulator could mean many things. choso

uses his sneaky little technique to rush your blood to your cunt and clit more than naturally. making you aroused quicker, longer and by proxy far more sensitive. perfect for his eager tongue or his worshipping fingers as he fucks you again and again. all while you're crying because it doesn't matter what he does, you're just soooo needy you feel like you're in heat.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 7:3? deadly ratio when nanami's ball's deep and holding your head down into the pillow.

it should be illegal how precisely and how hard he's fucking into that one, little weak spot that has your eyes rolling back and mouth hung dumb. he finds it with ease each and every time. poor you, your boyfriend doesn't have to do much to find your sweet spot, or abuse it with more than just the powerful rocks of his hips clapping against your ass.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ now it may be cruel, but the best way to tame a brat in enari's humble opinion?

increase their gravity of course. especially when you're cockwarming him while he's busy and you're being so insistent. all it takes is a few tweaks and you're heavy, hot and whining. cunt throbbing around his thick cock with an almost unbearable weight on your hips. unable to do anything but feel every inch, every throb, and know you can't even bounce on it.

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ why have one lisse when you could have multiple?

she's always so eager to your indulgence so of course she splits herself once or twice just to see your eyes all stupid and your mouth drooling. one duplicate between your thighs and tonguing on your clit eagerly. another sat behind you so that she can play with your tits and kiss your neck. all while the third nudges the first a bit so that she can shove to fingers into your cunt and finger you until you're whining.

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/uzmacchiato.

[starscloset]

take a picture it lasts longer lmao

[rezijellyfish]

My cringe jjk OC😭

[peiskios]

you are my sunshine ☀️

[alukaforyou]

touch///

i feel kinda funny posting this to twit & bsky with the same caption LMFAO like ya lemme just say that 3 times💀 based on this base from twit:

i too. would like to touch her bwooba.... anyways. flat colors also cuz i like this, before i fixed some stuff but meh

im like. 80-90% happy w the expression here which is cool

[lacquerheadd]

local loser indulges in jjk self insert oc fanart…

[fancy-possum]

𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 || 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

masterlist || follow for more || ac: su2kuna

The tattoo parlor smelled like antiseptic, ink, and something faintly metallic.

You stood just inside the door, clutching the strap of your bag like it was a lifeline. The shop was dimly lit, walls covered in flash sheets and finished pieces — bold, intricate designs that made your stomach twist with equal parts excitement and terror. This was your first tattoo. You’d spent weeks sketching the simple linework you wanted on your wrist — a small crescent moon with tiny stars — but now that you were here, the idea of needles made your hands shake.

The man behind the counter looked up.

Ryomen Sukuna.

Everyone on campus knew his name. The best tattoo artist in the city, covered in his own ink, with a reputation for being blunt, impatient, and terrifying to anyone who wasted his time. His arms were sleeved in dark, intricate patterns, and his red eyes flicked over you with mild interest.

“You here for a walk-in?” he asked, voice low and rough. “Or did you book?”

You swallowed. “I… booked. For the moon. With.. stars.”

He checked the schedule, then nodded. “You’re up. Come on back.”

You followed him to his station, heart pounding. He sat on his stool, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. His movements were efficient, almost brusque, but when he looked at your design, his expression softened just a fraction.

“Cute,” he said. “Simple. Clean. You sure you want it here?” He tapped your wrist gently.

You nodded, too nervous to speak much.

He didn’t push. Instead, he prepped your skin with careful hands, explaining each step in a surprisingly patient voice. “This is gonna sting. Breathe through it. If it gets too much, tell me and we stop. No shame.”

The needle buzzed to life. You closed your eyes, bracing.

But Sukuna was gentle. He worked slowly, checking in every few minutes. “Doing good,” he murmured when you tensed. “Almost done with the outline. You’re handling it better than most first-timers.”

When it was finished, he wiped it clean and showed you the mirror. The little crescent moon with its tiny stars looked perfect — delicate but strong.

You smiled, small and genuine. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Sukuna’s eyes lingered on your smile for half a second longer than necessary. “You’re welcome. Come back in two weeks for the check-up. And… don’t pick at it.”

You left with a bandage on your wrist and a strange warmth in your chest.

You started coming back.

Not just for aftercare. You brought him lunch one day — homemade onigiri because you’d heard him say he liked simple food. He stared at the container like it was foreign.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, but he ate every piece.

After that, it became routine.

You brought him dinner when he had long sessions. He let you sit in the corner during his own tattoos, the ones he did on himself when the shop was closed. You watched him work — focused, steady, the needle moving with precision across his skin. He never complained about the pain.

One night, after a particularly long session on his left bicep, he looked exhausted. You stayed anyway, handing him water and wiping sweat from his brow when he let you.

“You don’t have to do this,” he muttered.

“I want to,” you said softly. “You’re always taking care of everyone else’s skin. Let me take care of you for once.”

He looked at you then — really looked — and something in his expression shifted. Softer. Almost vulnerable.

Weeks turned into months.

You brought him coffee before his early appointments. He started texting you when he had a slow day, asking if you wanted to sit in while he worked. The shop felt less intimidating with you there.

One evening, after closing, he walked you home. The streets were quiet, streetlights casting long shadows. He kept his hands in his pockets, but every so often his arm brushed yours.

“You know,” he said suddenly, “I’m not usually nice to customers. Most of them are idiots who want dumb shit and complain when it hurts. But you… you’re different. You sit quietly. You bring me food. You don’t flinch when I’m rude. Makes me want to be less of an asshole around you.”

You smiled, small and shy. “I like you when you’re not an asshole.”

He stopped walking. Turned to face you under a flickering streetlight.

“I like you too,” he said, voice rough. “More than I should. More than makes sense for a guy like me. I’ve been falling for you since the first time you brought me those stupid onigiri and smiled like I was worth something.”

Your heart raced. You stepped closer, tilting your head up.

“Then stop fighting it,” you whispered.

He kissed you then — slow, deep, like he’d been holding back for months. His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks with surprising gentleness. The kiss tasted like the coffee he’d had earlier and the faint metallic tang of ink that always clung to him.

When he pulled back, forehead against yours, he whispered, “I’m keeping you. If you’ll have me.”

You smiled, kissing him once more. “I’m already yours.”

He walked you the rest of the way home, hand in yours, the city quiet around you. The terrifying tattoo artist with the sharp tongue and softer heart had finally found someone who saw both sides.

And you?

You’d found your favorite kind of art.

The kind that left marks on your heart instead of just your skin.

a/n : taking a break from DC stuff for a moment to do jjk I miss it sm

[tybaltville]

Elio "Shep" Reyes Wilson