jia79

[jia79]

He’s something of a male feminist himself

[jia79]

Ideal polycule doesn't exist!

Ideal polycule:

I love my husband's so much...

[jia79]

[jia79]

Mc in Lingeries, Li addition

[jia79]

glasses are the sluttiest thing a man could wear.

[jia79]

don't gotta worry abt same face syndrome if u only draw one guy ever

[jia79]

Comic form of that one scene from the kpop demon slayer movie or whatever it’s called They get together, right? Probably.

[jia79]

picture me this: you and sylus lazing around in his mansion and he happens to have one too many glasses of wine. and he ends up. blurting out about how badly he wants to marry you, make you his wife, have you move in with him and spend all you days together while staring up at you with the most pathetic, whiny, lovestruck look in his eyes, and then being absolutely flatlined by the alcohol flooding his brain <3

[jia79]

The cure to anxiety is completing all the tasks you have to finish for the day early and doing them phenomenally and being physically perfect and on everyone’s good side preferably even their favorite.

[jia79]

As bold as Sylus is, I truly think he’d malfunction the second you initiate anything.

He wants you, he makes it very clear that he wants you.

But for you to want him? Something in his brain just short circuits. He’s putty in your hands, you swear his pupils are in the shape of hearts. You got him wrapped around your finger and he’s never been more excited.

Every suave comment, every confident smirk, all of it just falters, crumbles to pieces and leaves him breathless. Because how lucky is he for you to want him back?

He could personally thank every single star that guided you back to him. That despite everything, every horrid thing, you fell in love with him all over again.

You not only need him, but you so boldly want him.

“Why are you staring at me like that, kitten?” You had already plopped yourself in his lap, your self proclaimed throne. “Because I wanna kiss you.” It’s a gentle hum, your fingers surprisingly soft as they cup his cheeks.

“Because you…huh?” And there it is, the look in his eyes that screams disbelief. “I wanna make out with you, like really bad. Will you let me?” And you’re not trying to tease him, you’re not even being overly flirtatious.

You’re being devastatingly honest.

“…yes.” Because how could he ever say no? Why would he ever want to? It’s immediate, your lips melting into his, your hand holding his face as if it’s something precious.

Sylus swears he could pass out from the intensity of it. And yet, it’s not intense at all. It’s slow and deliberate, memorizing, even, as you kiss him like you’re trying to engrave every single molecule of him into your memory.

“I love you.” You gasp as you pull away for air, forehead pressing against his as he chases your lips. “I love you so much it physically hurts me. You know that?”

And he does, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of hearing you say it. “Of course I know that. Because I love you just the same, maybe even more.”

I want to gobble him up. Love that pixel man to pieces it’s sickening that he’s not real and in my bed so I can snuggle him 🙄

[jia79]

just absolutely love dumb, nervous wreck, antsy-pants satoru who cannot chill around you. he has to go to suguru for reassurance that his hair looks good, that his breath smells good, that his outfit isn't lame, etc. this earns him a snicker from his best friend, and a pat on the back, and a "satoru. you're good. stop overthinking. you're just saying hello."

but just saying hello takes all his composure. the stars have to be aligned. when he reaches you, he's a stuttering dorky awkward nonsensical chaotic MESS of a person.

"hey! hi. hello. how are you? YEAH. i'm... good. haha. yes. ok. well... i've gotta goooooooo......."

and he leaves because his heart is panging so hard it feels like he's about to have a heart attack. that's just how you got him. and you have no idea. you're just happily going about your life while this poor boy is falling to pieces for you.

he's so love dumb that he can't focus on studying for too long, thoughts always leading back to you.

oh god you complimented him? he will remember that compliment for YEARS.

[jia79]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, sub meg

he was already flushed before you even touched him.

sitting on the edge of the bed, hands curled in the hem of his shirt, black hair tousled from the way you’d run your fingers through it earlier, megumi looked… shy. not awkward, not stiff. just soft. sweet. like he was trying not to look too eager, but his body betrayed him in every way—his legs slightly parted, his cock already hard and straining against his boxers, the faintest tremble in his thighs every time you got closer.

you leaned in, brushing your lips against his jaw, and he let out the quietest sound—something between a sigh and a whimper, his breath hitching in his throat as his fingers clenched tighter.

“megumi,” you murmured, mouth grazing his ear. “you okay?”

he nodded. swallowed. didn’t look up. “y-yeah. i just…”

you pulled back enough to see his face. his lashes were low, casting shadows across his cheeks, lips pink and slightly parted. his eyes met yours for a second, then darted away again, embarrassed by how wrecked he already looked when you hadn’t even undressed him yet.

“you just what?”

“i really want to be good for you,” he whispered.

that one hit you low. real low.

“meg,” you said again, slower now, climbing into his lap and cupping his cheek, “you’re already good.”

he bit his lip, shuddering, the heat rolling off him in waves now. his hands didn’t move—they stayed on the edge of his shirt, gripping tight like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“c-can i kiss you?” he asked suddenly, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.

you leaned in and kissed him before he could overthink it again.

soft. gentle. slow.

he sighed into it like you’d just let him breathe for the first time in minutes, his mouth opening against yours with quiet desperation. when your hands slid up under his shirt to feel his chest, he gasped, tensing under your touch like you’d electrified him. you dragged your nails up lightly and he shivered, the noise he made so small and pretty it made your hips twitch where you straddled him.

“you’re so sensitive,” you whispered, kissing down his throat.

“i— i know,” he breathed. “i can’t help it.”

his head tipped back, exposing the pale line of his throat as you sucked little kisses along it, feeling his pulse hammer just beneath his skin. his cock was pressed up against your thigh now, hard and twitching, his boxers soaked through at the tip where he’d been leaking since you kissed him.

“fuck, gumi,” you said, teasing, “you’re so hard already.”

he covered his face with one hand, groaning softly. “please don’t say it like that…”

you tugged the waistband of his boxers down, just enough to free him, and his cock slapped against his stomach, flushed dark and leaking. you watched him breathe through it—chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, lip trembling from how exposed he felt, even though he hadn’t told you to stop.

“i like looking at you,” you said, and he choked on his breath.

“i-it’s embarrassing…”

“no,” you said, wrapping your hand around him gently. “it’s perfect.”

his hips bucked up slightly, helpless, his hands gripping the sheets now instead of his shirt. “ah—wait, i’m close,” he blurted out immediately, face burning. “i-i’m sorry, it just—when you touch me like that—”

you squeezed him lightly and he whined.

“m’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he gasped, eyes wet, brows furrowed in something close to shame but deeper. needier.

you kissed him again, slow, stroking him lazily, and his body arched off the bed just a little, trying so hard not to thrust into your hand like a needy mess.

“you can cum,” you said softly. “you don’t have to hold it.”

his hips stuttered. “b-but i wanted to make you feel good—”

“you do make me feel good, megumi. look at how hard you are just from a kiss. it’s so sexy.”

he moaned, high and sweet and broken, as you dragged your thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the precome smeared there. his thighs shook. his eyes squeezed shut.

“i’m gonna—oh fuck—fuck—”

his whole body tensed as he came, cock twitching in your hand, spilling hot and thick over your fingers and his stomach. he whimpered through it, panting, trembling, his mouth open and gasping as if it shocked him how hard he’d finished.

you kissed his forehead as he came down, and he melted into the bed like all his bones had turned to water.

“…i can go again,” he mumbled after a long moment, eyes still closed.

you blinked. “already?”

his face burned. “only if you wanna. i just… i don’t wanna stop touching you.”

god. he was too fucking cute.

[jia79]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, more gooner megumi

he can’t stop.

he tries, sometimes. shuts the laptop, swears he’s done, jerks off in the shower in the hopes that the cold water will snap the obsession out of him—but then his phone buzzes. your name.

just a dumb meme. a photo of your lunch. a selfie with that tilted smirk you always wear when you know you look good but pretend you don’t care.

and he’s hard again.

always hard for you.

the thing is—he doesn’t tell you.

not really.

he’ll text you dumb shit at 2am, like:

ugh i’m so fucked up right now lol

or:

ur voice is stuck in my head

he doesn’t say what he’s doing. but you know. you know.

you send back:

lmao you’re such a gooner

and he replies with something like:

can’t stop. ur so bad for me.

but that’s it.

no dick pics. no moaning audio. not even a blurry torso mirror shot. he’s shy. shy like you could ruin him with a single screenshot. shy like his cock is sacred, and showing it to you would mean surrendering every ounce of pride.

but fuck if he doesn’t go crazy knowing you’re wet.

he jerks off too long. too slow. gooning, in the worst, best way—blank-eyed, spit-slicked, tongue peeking out, pumping his aching cock with both hands sometimes, eyes glued to the last voice message you sent, where you were whining about something stupid and laughing half-naked in bed.

he’s got an alt.

you don’t know about it.

it’s locked, barely followed, cursed with a handle like @ fushigurofucks.

it’s filled with softcore and captions. threads of him, whispering into the void like a man possessed:

been stroking to her voice for 47 minutes. haven’t cum. can’t. she said my name today and i almost lost it in the middle of class.

or:

she sent a picture of her neck. her fucking neck. how am i supposed to act normal. i’m gonna lose my mind. gonna cum so hard i black out.

he never uses your name. he never posts anything real. but the thirst is raw. his moans in the replies to audios he reblogs sound desperate. frantic. sweetboy ruined.

sometimes, the captions get filthier.

if she told me to edge for a week i would. i’d ruin my sheets just from licking her picture. want her to sit on my face while i’m tied to the bed. want her to ride my cock til i cry. wanna suck her fingers clean and thank her.

but he’ll text you like:

lol i jerked off like 3 times today

and you just laugh, reply:

ur such a slut it’s cute

and he stares at his phone. breathless. hand tight on his cock. because you think it’s cute.

you don’t know what you do to him.

you don’t know he’s edged to your insta story before.

you don’t know he’s screen recorded your tiktoks and looped them with his cock leaking pre all over his chest, moaning like your name is a prayer.

he’s sent you exactly one voice note while gooning. his breath was shallow, shaky, and all he said was:

fuck. i’m so close.

you never even played it all the way through. you sent back a gif of a cat blushing. he melted.

he has a whole folder of your selfies.

organized. categorized.

"slutty but denies it," "her tongue is out i’m gonna cum," "didn’t know she was hot that day," and his favorite: "looks like she’d ruin me."

he doesn’t even need porn anymore.

just your laugh. just your bare legs propped up on a table. just a shot of your mouth around a lollipop, even though you weren’t trying to do anything.

he’ll whisper into his pillow:

“fuckfuckfuck—you don’t even know—don’t even know what you do to me—god, baby, baby—i’d let you ruin me—make me cry—make me beg—just wanna be your fucktoy—please—”

and then he’ll cum hard enough to see stars.

ten minutes later he texts, drained but still aching:

can’t stop thinking about you.

you reply without thinking, casual:

what now? i didn’t even say anything

he stares at it. thumb hovers. breath already catching.

doesn’t matter. just the way you talk. the way you move.

you leave him on read.

and that’s enough.

he's already got your voice echoing in his skull, your last message burned into his chest, his hand creeping down again like it’s muscle memory.

he cums a second time harder than the first, moaning into his wrist like you’re sitting on his chest, laughing at how easy it is to undo him without even trying.

[jia79]

sukuna shows affection in the same way a dog who brings you a bird he killed does. the lives of others simply expendable compared to your joy and satisfaction. and he’s proud that his strength can provide you with a tangible gift.

like an eager hound with blood and feathers lodged between sharp teeth, sukuna brings you the heads of foreign leaders— gifting you a nation he brought down with nothing more than his bare hands.

and maybe you’re horrified at the sight. held in the air only by a fist is the head of what was once a king. you recognize his face, know him to have had a wife and sons and daughters. it’s cruel and ruthless but when you look up the strong arm of the man whose fingers graze scalp between tufts of hair and stare deep into the eyes of your lover, you see a plea for approval that will never be voiced aloud. much too prideful to ever ask, but ever too smitten to not need it, sukuna tosses the crown at your feet and grumbles, the words “‘s for you” nearly incoherent.

you know it’s wrong. you were raised with better morals and understand what this senseless death will do to the kings family— to an entire nation that now must submit to your every whim. you know better than to encourage it.

and yet, after a period of silence, taking in his frame and the desperation barely concealed within his large stature, it’s nearly impossible to say anything but “good boy.”

[jia79]

fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

[jia79]

THIRD TIMES THE CHARM CHAPTER TWO: cookie monster

masterlist

cw: crude humour, language, swearing, midly suggestive jokes

get charmed!

• haibara met someone off grow a garden. yeah thats it.

• BEANSTALK IS IN STOCK!1!1!1!

• everybody thought haibara was going to get taken or kidnapped or something due to his posts… he’s an odd one

• who is watching love island on here… i see a couple of hands and i see romy at the back hi romy

• i am not unfortunately #fake bc peacock isnt available in australia (and its always on general tv when im at work) but im watching it vicariously through tiktok edits #LOVEUCIERRA

• toji can’t cook. sorry. he can’t. he can’t do shit but fix cars.

• the librarian is no one special lol. if anything i thought of making it the grandma ino fought. but like. sweeter. lmk.

• the incident utahime & shiu got banned from the library was them throwing a networking event in the library during the weekend (utahime only helped bc she wants to start her own fashion business)

• raw cookie batter🤤🤤🤤

• satoru is a fucking idiot who can’t cook or bake for shit either

• he only uses low fat bc of his “diet plan” hence why he thought full cream milk clumping at the bottom was normal #extraprotein (why can i smell it)

• yn got food poisoning and had to stay home for 3 days

• satoru thought of making get well soon cupcakes

• shoko shortly stopped him

• satoru begs haibara to let him use his phone but only to look at yns finata

a/n: sorry for the slow updates, a bitch was making the most out of her uni break💔💔 also i lowkey did not know how to start it off LOL but i have a solid idea now & i’m actually looking forward to the next two chapters!!! which will hopefully be posted sunday or monday night :-) ok that’s it from me love u guys

taglist: @nappingnai @renbittt @s6rine @shokosbunny @agzio180 @mia-can-yap-too @poopooindamouf @itsdragonius @ch3rry-lips @miiyas @sttaejoon-blog @hellovanie @fushiguroooozzz @evilari111 @literallyushiwaka @katsukigetsmewetter @taefanclub @veecynii @angeltoruu @vitoshi @usbrous @sexylexy12 @rani1028 @erenspersonalwh0re @cr4yolaas @soobin1437 @itafushiwarrior @coffeeisbehindyou @ex1acy @anqelkoz @not-aya @b3bybunny @sugu81 @karvokr @iluvchuuyaa @saltypuffin1040 @tojirin @floquis @hrithi11

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[jia79]

no one ever suspected that you and megumi were dating.

not that you made a point of hiding it—megumi simply didn’t see the merit in pageantry, and you shared the inclination. you walked side by side, trained across from each other; coexisted so naturally that not a single soul caught on.

not panda, who considers himself something of a social savant. not maki, who dismissed your closeness as mutual misanthropy. inumaki, certain you’d end up with someone “less bleak,” eliminated the possibility. and certainly not gojo, though that said more about his obliviousness than your subtlety.

until one afternoon.

training ends late, you’re all gathered on the track field bleachers, half-shaded by the sky, eating snacks with the sort of sluggish detachment that only post-training exhaustion allows. sitting next to you, megumi reaches out, and carefully plucks a leaf from your hair. he flicks it to the ground, then tears open a cracker and takes a bite. crunch.

the silence that follows is instant and cavernous.

“wait,” panda says, “wait.”

you and megumi glance up in perfect synchronicity.

“what.”

“you two—” gojo points a finger between you. “this is a thing?” his voice pitches up half an octave.

“yeah.” you say, taking a sip from your pocari sweat.

“how long?” maki demands.

“salmon roe,” inumaki echoes, scandalised.

“four months.” megumi looks vaguely irritated by the attention.

everyone else loses their minds.