#lol... I miss my sanity
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insane-thoughts-oftheday · 6 months ago
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I've been having a recent thought about the whole Underworld saga. and it involves Odysseus and that phrase "And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." by Nitch. But I still haven't elaborated enough to post something concrete about my theory.
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aurosoul · 8 months ago
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slowly getting closer to Making An Art again
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cold-neon-ocean · 10 months ago
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Posting this by itself because :) I just feel like he should have gotten to wear the mech pilot suit at least once..
(my AU black version and the og green)
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dreamyeyes26 · 9 days ago
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Oh while i mention skaters from a few years ago, i miss my wife sui wenjing, no one makes my heart beat like her anymore, and i also miss virtue moir, they made me love ice dance more than any other form and now it feels bleak, with all the respect to skaters bc they are amazing and i could never do their job, but i just miss my old excitements, the only event i look forward to these days are the ones with kaori in it🥺
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supercantaloupe · 2 months ago
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mfw i ask maestro if he needs me at rehearsal on tuesday and he responds by telling me i'm wonderful, i'm always watching and listening, play better than a principal, etc
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akkivee · 10 months ago
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SO WE JAMMIN NONSTOP GOT THE BOYS ON REPEAT LOOPING THE HYPE
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feral-mouse · 2 years ago
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I am desperately trying to keep my MC alive but I keep dying spfdjspfj
I'll figure it out tho 😤
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jizzlords · 4 months ago
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me: maybe i should... go back to work. let this medical leave run til the end of the month as dated. specialists i barely heard back from: nuh uh. at least 2 more months. push the leave longer. me, under breath: son of a bi-
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The thing is that Dean would've been well within his right to ditch Cas years ago but he never has, so Cas' entitlement to Dean's forgiveness and friendship is just ridiculous. Especially since every time Dean's mad at him it boils down to "you should've talked to me." If Cas just stopped keeping secrets and didn't disappear without notice and ignore Dean's calls they wouldn't have problems! Dean's anger comes partly from worry and partly from the fact that whenever Cas ventures off alone he creates a new mess they have to clean up. Mary dying at the end of s14 was just the breaking point, no wonder Dean blew up. And now in 15x08 and 15x09 Dean is being nice and trying to extend the olive branch, saying that he knows Cas is sorry, but Cas is just snipping at him and complaining about the fact that Dean didn't immediately forgive him. How am I supposed to feel even remotely sorry for Cas here?
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futurewife · 1 year ago
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at this point I could orgasm just from kissing fully clothed or like having my back stroked or hair tenderly rearranged something. I'm ill
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wyllzel · 1 year ago
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im going to throw up why do i feel so stressed about bg3 i feel like a live wire or whatever i just need to SLEEP (so i can play more tomorrow 💀)
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oexen · 2 years ago
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ppl are so mean abt little valdemeowmeow???? and the other courtiers but. buncha fuckin lily livered ass cowards. at this point i cant tell if it's me being neurodivergent or that there are just a metric fuckton of dingdongs that simply don't know how to have fun
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blue-eyed-moon-child · 3 months ago
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Yes.
Every day is a special occasion when you're around
Hence a lot of swearing :)
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who am i y’all
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shadowkira · 1 year ago
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This week has been predominantly shit. I'm going to celebrate my day off tomorrow by reading a bunch of smut.
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quills-and-fantasy · 1 year ago
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gotta say, it's always wild when people complain about changes to the dash because i straight up cannot see them due to me exclusively using the app
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metranart · 3 months ago
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hi! it’s me
i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)
like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?
(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)
xoxo,em! take care
Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)
How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋
Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.
SATORU GOJO
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Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.
The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.
Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:
"Do you like it?"
Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.
"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.
"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.
Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.
"S-Satoru, baby?"
You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.
"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.
You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"
"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."
Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?" 
He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"
You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.
Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.
"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.
"Huh?"
"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you. 
You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent. 
Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. 
“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.
“It's just a tattoo....”
“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–
"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..." 
He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.
"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"
You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high. 
"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"
CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵
NANAMI KENTO
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He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.
"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times. 
"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"
"I do."
"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"
"I see."
Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."
Silence and more close observation.
You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...
Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.
"K-Ken?"
"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"
You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.
"Nanami."
"... Do you still have the lipstick?"
"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."
"Lend it to me, darling."
With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.
“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”
“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?” 
He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it. 
You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss. 
Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.
“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”
His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.
"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."
His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.
“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”
You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.
“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”
A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him. 
“You have yourself a deal, baby."
CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵
CHOSO KAMO
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Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.
It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.
"Shit, just go away." 
He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy. 
And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-
Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-
"C-Choso?"
His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -
"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.
Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.
Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him. 
Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.
But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.
Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.
“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”
Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.
“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-” 
You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs. 
“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”
“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”
CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS
SUGURU GETO
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“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself.  Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.
“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you.  “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”
Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.
“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”
Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—
“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good?  Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”
 “…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”
One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”
“S-Sorry…” 
Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.
“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”
“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.
“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”  
And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.
Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.  
Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.
“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”
“Y-You think?” 
Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.  
“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.
“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”
“….-Own?”
And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.
“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”  
“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”
Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started. 
“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.” 
His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”
He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.
Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.
“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”  
“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….” 
Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.
Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.
“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”
A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.
Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.
“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.
You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.
“Starving.”
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RYOMEN SUKUNA
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The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes. 
You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you. 
“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”
Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.
“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.
“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"
"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"
"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"
You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"
"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"
"Which is?"
"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."
“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—
Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.
Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.
You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.
“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”
His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.
Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.
"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."
“Jerk.”
He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.
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