Me n’ bro in a complete platonic and masculine way.
ojovivo
$LAYYYTER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

oozey mess
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER

⁂

@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
Three Goblin Art
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

titsay
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Canada

seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Pakistan

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@lupicalbestwolf
Me n’ bro in a complete platonic and masculine way.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎. ( ♡ 𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁 )
satoru is house hunting after he got down on one knee for you. now, he's looking at all the places in your new home that you could get down on your knees.
꒰ smut :: fantasies :: p in v :: f.oral :: creampie :: lovesick toru ꒱
𝓱𝚄𝚂𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙳!𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄ᅠ🌷͏͏♡ ͏͏ᅠ𝓯.𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁
While the real estate agent prattled on about the expansive kitchen and how it inspired culinary innovations,
All Satoru could think of was how good you'd look bent over the marble counter.
The engagement ring warmed his hand stuffed in his pocket. Eyes glazed over as he nodded along to the man who tried his damned hardest to catch his interest in this place.
Satoru's already got his checklist.
The kitchen's East facing window would make some good lazy morning memories. Where he could bend you over and stuff his face in your thighs while you adorned in sunlight. His favourite breakfast. Who needed pastries when the sweetest cream trickled down your shaky legs?
The salesman guided him out to the living room. Another window faced the backyard. Satoru observed its diameter.
Your tits would look good squished against the glass.
He smiled at the thought of you whining at him that someone might see, while he pulled your soaked baby blue panties to the side and plunged right in. Stained the pristine glass.
Mm. That got a throb outta him.
The man's words flowed through one ear and drained out the other. Satoru was too preoccupied wondering where he'd put the couch.
Facing away from the front door for sure. So that when you were too lost in your soap operas you wouldn't notice him slipping in. Sneaking behind you. You'd only feel his lips on your neck and his hands squeezing your pretty breasts. Just what he needed after a long day.
He followed the salesman. Paying close attention to the walls. Which would be your favourite for him to press you up against?
The rounding corner from the foyer gave him another card for the element of surprise. The thought of catching you off guard and pushing you up against one of the crooks gave him butterflies.
You'd look so pretty with his hand around your throat and your eyes shocked for a fraction. Before you melted into him in that way you always did.
Up the stairs they went. Satoru tested the railing. Stiff. Perfect for when your bratty side got the better of you. He could press you over it and stuff his fingers into your sweet pussy. Have your squirting cum trickle down the staircase while you drooled over the railing.
"I think my fiancée would have a field day here," he spoke up, loud enough to test the echo.
Oh, he could already hear it. That resounding: "toru! Sato. . . Satorrruuu m'— ohgod. Gonna cum toru." singing through the hallways.
The salesman turned to him with a dazzling, capitalist smile. Blissfully unaware that Satoru was counting the steps between the staircase and the master bedroom.
It was expansive. With an ensuite housing a stunning shower where he could commit sin to you. And a large tub where he could cradle you after a long night of filling you to the brim. Kissing away foam at your shoulders and rubbing out the aches he left in your hips.
But his favourite quirk of the house had to be the balcony extending from the bedroom. A beautiful view of the setting sun and the quiet neighborhood.
Oh it won't be so quiet once he pushed you against that railing on evenings where you'd be in nothing but his shirt. Worship your cunt with his greedy mouth while your thighs squeezed against his ears. As your hands clung to his hair and you trusted that he'd never let you fall.
Your cum would taste good under the moonlight.
How gorgeous you sound. His ring on your finger. His name on your tongue. As he wrapped your legs around him and pummelled your cunt into a creamy, loving mess. Till you clung to him and told him he was yours.
In this place that would be yours. Be his. Where you could watch your kids play from the front porch and he could love you, fuck you, on each, and every surface.
When the salesman turned to him, Satoru looked back with dilated eyes and a wide grin.
"I think I just found our new home."
© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/cheriisoda. art cred: @/only_death_only (twt). this was inspired after a convo I had with my darling @kiatheinsomniac <3
꒰ 🌷 ⸰ ✦ enjoyed this piece? ꒱ consider joining my patreon or commissioning me <3 I appreciate all the support!
♡. @nanamiskentos @rimielles @cilil @nerdjoswhore @lupicalbestwolf @megumisloverr @nnnyxie @aurorab-0-realis @lunacsent @messytimemachine @xilo-not-a-writer @b33pbopbi @foxy-lisard @satoruspillow @charredchae @designerpvssy @iridescentshine @fushizae @remscreams @rs4kiss @gktdh @badnightngo @moonchild-stuff7 @fuckthevillain @quaxing-lour @vegasbabyyy @man1cslut @princesslilium @voidfulcrumdilemma @messytimemachine @alaniluvstoru @luxluxsmind @ezrael @emmaslastnerve @satorugojosoneandonlyslut @misscherisworld @smile-yy @ehcilhc @love-d-luxe @gilwm @coochiemama3000 @satoruyearner @akutagawacallmediablo @sugo-jo @megottheswaskikacooooke @littlemisssatorugirl @kitreader @belovedbysatoru @elegantmakercoffee @har-s
[ID: Scum Villain doodle. Shen Qingqiu walks with a flat expression, while Luo Binghe lays face down on the floor clutching at the hems of his robes. /end ID]
First bingqiu drawing after years fuccckkkk

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
— WHAT YOU STARTED. yan! modern! childe x gn! reader
notes ! man idk if this was intimidating enough to do the song justice but this was inspired by meant to be yours from the heathers musical! and those anme tiktoks of hot dudes banging on the door
( reader is fucked up but has conscience, yelling, unhealthy relationships, blood, attempted suicide, childe calls you a bitch a lot, aggressive behavior )
errant. frantic. your mind is both full and empty at the same time. all it ever processes is the blur of the white tiles and the flickering fluorescent lights. it feels the burn of your shaky legs as you run for your life, but it refuses to register it.
you’re running, fast, faster, but his slow and easygoing steps seem to be never too far behind. the sound of a knife scraping metal screams in your ear, along with the low, hollow laugh of your persecutor.
but you don’t falter, not until you firmly lock yourself behind your door and bar it with the chairs.
“oh, sweetie,” he croons— how did he reach your door so fast?— hs voice muffled by the wall between you but still ever so loud and intimidating. “do you think some puny door can stop me?” a pause. your mouth is over your lips in a desperate attempt to stifle your whimpers. “oh. looks like you do. tsk tsk, you’re as stupid as ever.”
“i dooon’t get it.” how is he so lighthearted about this?! a flash of the blood on his face and its piercing smell, makes you double over as you think about it. “why are you being like this? we can finally— finally!— put an end to your suffering? those… whores, why we can take care of them, right this instant! [your name], my love, tell me—”
BANG. his palm strikes the wood as he breathes out a hollow question.
“what are you so scared of?”
you don’t know what comes over you. honestly, you should’ve just shut up. but you answer, much to your own chagrin.
you barely lift your hands before you hoarsely whimper, “you.”
he laughs lowly, both disbelief and frustration seeping in his voice. “me? you’re scared of me? me?”
“you ungrateful piece of—”
: ̗̀➛ MB, DIDN’T KNOW YOU WAS CHILL LIKE DAT. yan! phainon, wanderer, anaxa, zhongli, mydei (<- prev )
sometimes you gotta pull out all the stops to make your darling never leave your side, no matter how extreme. you’re prepared for screaming, crying, and begging, but what you really don’t know is your lover is just chill like that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
( 17+ simply cuz phainon n reader are horndogs for each other, slutshaming from both kuni n reader [kuni], implied kidnapping and shackling [anaxa], contract loopholes [zhongli], mayhaps reader is a bit irate when it comes to mydei, violence, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, slight erotica, stalking )
Golden child of the Chrysos Heirs, PHAINON is anything but suspicious. He helps the elderly cross the street, lets children hang and laugh on his biceps, and is unjudging of everyone who comes to him with their problems. Compared to a distant thread-weaver, the walking embodiment of death, a golden warmonger, Phainon is definitely one of the more approachable and beloved Heirs of Amphoreus.
That’s why no one will believe you when you say that the same man who helped down a chimera from a tree is the same man who whines and grinds helplessly against you every night. You could be minding your own business— setting the dinner table or finishing up a novel— when Phainon will come in, lumbering through the front door with a desperate plea in those pretty blue eyes, calloused hands trembling as he brings your hands to his cheek and lets him feel your warmth— kissing every groove, nosing the crevices of your fingers, allowing him soak up the one thing that makes him lose all sanity.
“Please, [Y. Name],” he prays, more concerned with your approval than with the Titans. “Please, let me touch you. Please.”
Titans, Phainon is so hard to say no to. With the way his fluffy white hair frames his angelic face, contrasting that trembling mass of a body kneeling in front of you, it’d be like saying no to pure perfection. But you love it when you deny him. You love the way his eyes squeeze tight when met with your rejection, forced to only indulge himself with the tip of your shoe or your lower leg. You revel in how he could easily have you in whichever way he wants, yet this pathetic man who calls himself a warrior easily yields to your whims because you are the object of his worship.
“Oh, Phainon,” you croon, grazing your fingertip across his jawline. That weak whimper as he chases after your touch sets your blood on fire, but you rein it in. “Do you know how weak you look right now? Kneeling in front of some ordinary nobody because you can’t keep it in your pants? You know, I heard from one of my co-workers how you keep lingering outside the office. Are you so selfish that you can’t even hold yourself back during the day?”
He whispers his apologies on repeat, lips mouthing sorries again and again against your thigh as he chases that high on your feet. You frown in dissatisfaction and pull away, meeting the heartbroken eyes of the Deliverer. “When you say sorry, you’re supposed to look at them in the eyes, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, wincing when your toes press down on the bulge crooked to the left of his inner thigh. “I just— you didn’t let— last night, I was just—!” Satisfaction falls easily on your face as you lean back and watch him plead his case through strained whimpers and groans, eyes tearing up at the pleasure being withheld from him. “I can’t— I can’t get enough of you, so I—!”
Uugh, you can’t ignore what that confession does to you. Sending electricity through your nerves that your eyes nearly rolled back, Phainon doesn’t know the effect he has on you, or he wouldn’t be grinding himself off like a stupid dog. Amphoreus’ Deliverer, a putty and crying mess for the quiet salary worker. It’s not like you didn’t have a hand in this mess— wearing those sheer stockings that you know he likes so much, wearing that tight-fitting blouse so his eyes never leave your body when he pretends to pass by. Even before he begged to be yours, you’ve been playing this long game, just to satisfy that craving to have the Deliverer under you and on top of you.
“Oh, what to do,” you sigh, pressing a kiss on his wet cheeks and smiling at him. The same innocent smile you gave him the first time he stumbled to your front desk, masking all your depraved fantasies and feigning innocence at how his blue eyes take in your every skin. “I love you so, so much. How could I possibly say no?”
A cut transgirl romance comic by Garun
This just restored my faith in humanity
Honey are you OK? You rebloged Garun’s comics 5 times today
Aight time to cry and reblog trans girl yuri again
Feel like wildly uninformed men are trying to get into your uterus? The “Mythcrashers” are here to sort fact from fiction
Dr. Willie Parker is awesome and this gif set is well-timed on my dash.
Can we please have more of this? Let’s make sure the loudest voices on abortion are those in healthcare, and the women who have, or need them.
my danganronpa phase is coming back

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
one more time
Oh, Yingying, do you still wish for that bamboo mountain?
the colouring is so gorgeous both shens are so pretty it hurts </3
April is nearly over but.... heres bingqiu having a little cherry blossom picnic :)
It's been five years since your husband passed.
"I can be him."
One year since you returned to the jujutsu world.
"If you just let me. I can be him. You can call his name. Pretend he's touching you."
Six months since 𝓨𝒖𝒕𝒂 started pursuing you.
The setting sun over jujutsu tech glared you down as your back pressed into the bridge's wooden beams. Was Satoru's glare in the horizon? Was his judgement in the sky? Were his chastises whispered in the wind that kissed your cheek?
His eyes were above you.
His hair tickling your forehead.
His hands on you.
His. But not his. Not your husband. Not Satoru.
Just the man who wore his skin.
Yuta shedded his a long time ago. A miscalculation. A medical horror. Returning to his body became impossible and so, he remained in the man who was once yours. Now twenty three, and all he wanted?
You.
Before you, he stood. Looming over you the way that Satoru did. Caressing your cheek the way that Satoru did.
Whispering to you the way that Satoru did.
"I have his memories," he said, thumb tracing a familiar line on your cheekbone. "I know how he touched you. I know how he loved you. I can love you the same."
He leaned closer. Diminishing both the space between you and your shame.
"We can play pretend," he promised.
The same way Satoru had promised that he would come home.
The same way you had promised him that no one else would ever hold your heart, your body, your soul.
You broke your promise.
All it took was a kiss. From lips you remembered. From a mouth that worshipped you every day of your short marriage.
Your downfall were his hands. Familiar. Once yours. The wedding ring he still wore out of reverence for his sensei.
A kiss. A touch. A memory. That's all it took.
All it took for the sheets to welcome your back. For your thighs to welcome his head. Your hands greeting white hair that you once stroked so tenderly when the world caved in on him.
Your Satoru.
Not your Satoru.
Satoru's body.
Your Satoru's body.
Between your legs. Worshipping you. As he always did. With big, scarred hands spreading you apart. With a tongue that knew every inch of you. A voice that praised you.
The same way your husband would.
"So sweet, taste so so good, sweet girl," the groan soaked into your slick. An aphrodisiac of its own. Seeping into your veins. Dizzying your mind.
"Toru," you whimpered.
Toru.
Satoru.
You're Satoru.
He's not your Satoru.
But you moaned for him as if he was.
Tugged onto his hair. Ground into his face. Whimpered his name— as if he was.
Two orgasms on his tongue alone. Yuta proved that he had committed to his sensei's memories. He knew exactly how to fuck you on the pink muscle. Where to touch. What pressure.
His thumb stroked along your slit. Tracing the quivers as his lips occupied your clit. Sucking on its pulses and worming out another devastating orgasm out of you.
Three. You came three times.
The same number Satoru worked you up to before he kissed you. Held you. Fucked you.
Yuta committed to the routine. Kissed you. Spread your thighs.
Pressed his dick to your twitching cunt.
Shushed your cries.
Held you.
Fucked you.
Your body forgot, but your mind didn't. The stretch burned and tears pricked at your eyes— but your mind keened. Slipped. Soaked in the memory of him.
Of your husband.
Of Satoru.
As Yuta's hips engraved new memories into your thighs.
As his fingers blossomed new bruises.
As his mouth kissed you with a new hunger.
Your arms hugged around his neck. Breath stuttering. Voice breaking. Every plunge of his cock stroked the fire deeper into you. Unravelling your mind into a messy heap of tears and needy.
Rough pants fanned above you. His brows pinched at the centre. One hand gripping your thigh and the other cupped beneath your head. Yuta's thrusts were as nasty as Satoru's. Deep, fast, taking you apart from the inside out.
"That's it. There you go," he huffed, white lashes fluttering. "There's my girl."
"Sat— toru," you sobbed. Because maybe crying would make it real.
Maybe it'd wake you up from this terrible nightmare.
"You're doing so well, sweetheart." His voice slipped into your ear. Clenched your heart. Squeezed your cunt as your nails raked down his back.
"Toru," you whimpered. "T-Toru, toru please. I need— I need you. I need you."
His thumb found your clit, your back bowed into the pleasure. Another sob shook from your lungs. Reaching out for him. Not Yuta. Not his body. Him.
But it was Yuta who cupped your face. With Satoru's hand.
Yuta who bottomed out. Fucked you deeper. With Satoru's cock.
Yuta who whispered to you. With Satoru's voice.
"I'm here." He lied, so sweetly.
As his hips drove faster— and faster. Grinding into all of the sweetspots that Satoru knew. That were now at his disposal.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart." He lied, so gently.
As he hugged you close. Took you higher— and higher. Perfectly choreographed to the memory he committed to.
Playing with your clit, with Satoru's fingers.
Praising you, with Satoru's words.
Kissing you, with Satoru's lips.
"I'm gonna cum," you cried, and he licked your tears away. Cradled your face. Whispered tenderly.
"Cum," eyes so blue, eyes once yours, stared deep into your soul. Deceived you with promises that had already been broken. "Cum for me. Cum for 'toru, baby. C'mon."
The heat, the need, the memories— they all rushed into a knot that snapped in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes rolled back. Body arched. Tensed.
"Satoru— t-toru. Toru, miss you. I miss you."
You sobbed his name when you came.
Clung to his shoulders.
Squeezed his cock.
But you knew.
That it wasn't him that held you.
Wasn't him that smacked his hips into yours.
Wasn't him that groaned deep, even if it was his voice.
Wasn't him that stilled, that moaned your name, that filled you to the brim and kept pumping as you shook with whimpers.
Eyes so blue. Eyes once yours.
But in your heart, you knew. Satoru was dead.
Knew that the thing wearing his skin wasn't him.
And that the only one who caressed your face, kissed you, told you that he loved you— wasn't your husband.
But Okkotsu Yuta.
© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.
♡. taglist :: @nanamiskentos @rimielles @cupidstrace @cilil @nerdjoswhore @lupicalbestwolf @megumisloverr @nnnyxie @aurorab-0-realis @lunacsent @messytimemachine @xilo-not-a-writer @b33pbopbi @foxy-lisard @satoruspillow @charredchae @designerpvssy @iridescentshine @fushizae @remscreams @rs4kiss @gktdh @badnightngo @moonchild-stuff7 @fuckthevillain @veejiez @quaxing-lour @vegasbabyyy @man1cslut @princesslilium @voidfulcrumdilemma @messytimemachine @alaniluvstoru @luxluxsmind @ezrael @emmaslastnerve @satorugojosoneandonlyslut

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
BETTER WEAR PROTECTION!
who loves to spurt all over you? gojo!
synopsis: for all the atrocities he committed in his previous life as a spoiled prince, satoru gojo was reincarnated as...your suncreen bottle?
pairing: sunscreen!gojo x f!reader x boyfriend!sukuna
content: mdni. crack. smut. gojo is crashing tf out, he is literally just jealous sentient sunscreen lmfao, one-sided pining, reader could not care less, gruff softie sukuna, cucking lol, massaging sunscreen (gojo), oral sex (f! receiving), gojo wants to die all over again, sukuna is having a great time
a/n: this is part of this object!gojo event by @madamechrissy ! starring yandere prince!gojo from my prince charming fic <3
gojo's art by @transdemon sukuna's art by: @bloomnt
Heaven was the warmth of your skin underneath him.
Hell was never getting to have you again.
But getting reincarnated as your sentient bottle of sunscreen was quite frankly a bit of both.
"God, it's so hot," you complained, your pretty voice lilting as he was forced to silently pray you'd pick his bottle up to reapply. To feel those fingers of yours around his bottle before you slathered him on your skin, to bask in the sun as you stretched your limbs out on a lounge chair by the pool.
He didn't understand much of this world the two of you had been reborn into, a far cry from being a prince or living in a palace, but he supposed it wasn't horrible if he still got to stay in your presence.
Gojo wasn't entirely sure if this was meant to be a punishment or not, some sort of payment for something he'd done in his last life, but it didn't feel like one when he still got to be the one all over your body.
Sure, you didn't know it was him, and okay, he couldn't exactly speak to you, but he could still see. Could feel. Even hear your soft voice when you talked to yourself or spoke on that funny device you called a phone to your friends.
He still hated the idea that you had other people in your life. Hated when you went out during the day or night. Loathed that you left him.
And most of all, he couldn't stand you didn't know that he was there.
But on the bright side, you didn't have a boyfriend.
And thank fuck for that, because you looked fucking divine in the barely-there strings he once heard you refer to as a bikini. Soft skin on full display, breasts he was desperate to bite bouncing lightly as you skipped over to grab his bottle, your phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you walked through your back door to your backyard.
He didn't understand how a maid could have a home like yours, but you rarely talked about what you did for work.
And when he wasn't able to ask anymore, he was forced to sit and think about how well he really knew you outside of him. How little of the old you he'd truly known when this new one felt so...foreign sometimes.
"I missed you," you giggled into the phone, readjusting it as you slid into your favorite lounge chair. "What time do you get off?"
Who the hell were you speaking to?
Jealousy surged in his...well, just simmered inside him. Red hot anger with nowhere to even go, just coiling and curling and making him feel fucking sick.
You laughed, a pretty, twinkling sound that didn't make it any better when he didn't know who it was directed for.
Some primal part of him wanted to scream that it was still meant to be reserved for him. That you were still his - no matter what form he'd been confined in.
The universe seemed to disagree.
Apparently, the world had forgotten too who it was supposed to revolve around.
There was the sound of beeping, someone entering in the passcode to the locked gate of your fence, but from your hand, he couldn't see who it was.
But he recognized that irritating fucking voice the second he spoke up.
"Wanna show me how much you missed me?"
That fucking-
"Kuna!" your perky voice chirped, literally dropping him onto the side table, not even looking when he landed on his side instead of straight up, leaving your phone next to him as you got back up to jog over to him.
If Gojo had hands, he'd strangle him. Cut his tongue out all over again for the crime of being able to actually touch you, watching in disgust at the way his tattooed arms picked you up and swung you around. Hang him in front of all his comrades for being able to hold you, for putting those filthy lips on yours.
But murder and maiming were both off the table.
And he was quite literally forced to stay on it, unable to move or manage the tiniest murmur when he didn't have a mouth.
No way to voice his pained protests as he watched that prick carry you back to your lounge chair.
How the fuck could you let that loser into your life again?
Let his mouth defile your skin, his dark eyes drag over your body as if it belonged to him.
"Did you put on sunscreen?" Sukuna asked you, not even discreetly staring at your ass while you laid down flat on your chair.
"Nope," you giggled again, sweeping your hair off your shoulders as that awful pink-haired asshole had the audacity to sigh at you.
"Makin' me do it, brat?" He gruffly scoffed, and you just shrugged a little.
"Mhm," you teased him.
Gojo couldn't even be grateful that he'd get to touch you too, infuriated by the brutish way he was grabbed and squeezed, the undignified sound of squirting ringing out as he found himself covering a calloused palm.
Not soft and small like yours.
He couldn't even enjoy the heat radiating from you when his focus was only on the fat fingers rubbing him into your pretty skin. It was kind of hard to appreciate how soft you were when he was being kneaded into you by this peasant.
God, if he could go back in time, reverse the clock and go back to his old life, he'd gouge his eyes out for ever looking at you.
"Flip over," Sukuna grunted, but he didn't give you the chance to do it. Fingers sinking into your hips to twist you around first, not that you seemed to particularly mind.
No, you were smiling, eyes glittering in the sun before you brought your hand up to shield them from the bright light.
"You're so bossy," you hummed.
"You like it," he grumbled back, rubbing more of the lotion, more of Gojo, over your chest now, between your soft, supple breasts. But before he could attempt to relax, to release the tension he couldn't do anything with, Sukuna was already moving him towards less intimate places.
Your shoulders, your arms, shifting briefly to your stomach before he was massaging into your calves.
By the time he reached your thighs, Gojo was gritting teeth he didn't have, groaning that he didn't even get the luxury of slowly soaking into your skin with how thoroughly he was rubbing it in.
The most he could hope for actually hurting Sukuna here was the asshole accidentally rubbing his eyes while he still coated his fingers.
You were pressing your thighs together, a pretty little coy look on your face as you tilted your head up at him.
"You didn't tell me you missed me too," you spoke softly, but your voice was airy. Free.
Gojo wasn't sure how to feel about it.
Only that he despised being damned to do nothing while another man got to be the one to answer you.
"Do I have to prove it to you?" Sukuna grumbled, abruptly readjusting, pulling your legs down to the edge of the chair. You let out another easy laugh as he shimmied down your bikini bottoms and tossed them on your patio before throwing your thighs over his shoulders.
It wasn't like anyone could see over your fence.
No, Gojo was the only third party privy to that scum spreading your legs.
"You still have it on your hands," you huffed at him, gesturing down at Gojo as he internally screamed at the fact you called him an it.
"Good thing I was planning on using my mouth," Sukuna sarcastically remarked, and Gojo watched with fury as he buried his irritatingly chiseled face between your thighs.
Dragged his tongue in-and-out, making messy thrusts with the muscle that Gojo reminisced about cutting off once upon a time. Only for him to be back, using it again to work you open.
Treating you like some common whore, grunting at you about how good you tasted while he made out with the pretty pussy that wasn't meant for him.
You were Gojo's.
How the hell had he gone from owning you to merely existing as one of your possessions? Something tossed on a table while a crook got to devour you?
Icy rage rattling him as your cute little moan was muffled into your palm, knowing it wasn't him you were moaning for.
Your free hand was firmly planted in Sukuna's hair, pulling him in as that annoyingly thick tongue swirled lazy circles inside you.
And despite all his anger, an awful ache burned bright underneath it all, familiar need eating away at him watching your body shiver and shake with sheer pleasure. Heat searing through him hearing you cry out another man's name.
The cruelest part?
He couldn’t even cum.
a/n: prince charming reader fr deserves a peaceful second life living in a big house with a pool and a hot boyfriend with no bullshit
☣︎ Crazy gf!reader giving Boyfriend!Sukuna shit during sex
“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, rough hands spreading your ass to see the way your sloppy pussy sucks him in.
Face buried in the sheets, you muffle out, “I can’t.”
Sukuna’s brows knit momentarily, but then you clench down on him so hard it pulls a sharp inhale of air from him and he forgets all about it. “Been thinking about this needy pussy all day. Such a dirty girl, isn’t she?”
“I keep her clean, actually,” you drawl, fingers drumming. “Took a shower right before you came too, so if anyone’s dirty, it’s not me or my kitty.”
His eye twitches. Then he takes a deep breath and continues ploughing his fat cock inside, making sure to prod that gummy spot you love so much. “Yeah? Got yourself all clean and dolled up for me? Aren’t you sweet? My best girl, ain’t ya?”
You still.
Slowly, you turn around — if you were a door, you’d be creaking loud as fuck right now. “What. Did. You. Say?”
“Oh, hell,” Sukuna exhales out. He pulls out at the same time you come to face him, glaring. Leaning back on his haunches, he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “What did I do wrong now, woman?”
You poke him right in the chest, where a tattoo of your name is marked clear as day. “‘Best girl?’ ‘Best girl.’ Really?” you scoff. “I’m your only girl. Who the fuck am I competing with? Who’s second best? Third? Is there a fourth? A fifth? And who’s last? Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be her. Unless, I am her on any other day because you switch us around. Wow! You’re a disloyal piece of shit. What did the other girls do to deserve this?”
Sukuna’s raging boner? Dies.
He watches it with some pity. Sighing, he falls back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He knows, once you start, there’s no getting you to stop. With a roll of his eyes, he yanks you onto his chest, smushing you. His heavy arm doesn’t let you up, try as you might. “Shhh, you little psycho. It’s alright. We’ll get you back on your meds soon. You’re gonna be okay.”
“No, seriously,” you say, slapping him on the abs once, and again when he doesn’t even flinch. “Who’re the others? Lemme meet them. I have a lot to say with my fists. I’m gonna kill them and you, Ryomen!” you threaten right into his pec.
Sukuna pats your back.
“Let’s start with the voices in your head first, dumbass.”
was inspired by that Rupaul interview lol