quick sketch

@tteokdoroki

‘ DARLIN’ CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE ? ,

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, toji & shiu kong, threeśome, age gap + (reader's over twenty), unprotected, shiu walks in on you and toji, size kink, cowgirl dp, sucking toji's nipples, praise, degradation, shotgunning, double penn, overstim, spit, squírting, spanking, face-fucking, cunnìllingus.

dbf! toji masterlist.

oh, everything felt like a fever dream…

one of those dreams that was so good that you just never wanted to wake up from—yeah, those ones. it’s been quite some time since your little fling with your father’s best friend took off, as if you’d even call it a 'fling' anymore. perhaps you were getting a bit too attached. maybe he was too, the both of you ended up screwing around literally any chance you got. so secretive, you’d almost gotten caught when your panties were found that one time. thankfully, toji came up with some bullshit excuse that was surprisingly believed. 

he had a single taste of you, just a taste and he was whipped. addicted just like that. it was a sunday evening, pretty quiet and you were currently drying yourself off from the shower. toji came out right after you, and he lifted you, pressing a sweet wet kiss near the corner of your lips. “mhm. how much time do we have, baby?”

“like an hour,” you’d mumble, your legs swiftly locking around his slim waist. toji’s kisses were always so sloppy and rough, a faint touch of passion trodding underneath before his hand found its way near your ass again. a towel wrapped around his waist, another wrapped around your torso, so wet. “i think he’s still out.”

“so i have ya all to myself again,” he rasps, leading you towards the bed, his warm lips coat a plethora of steamy kisses all down your collarbone before placing you down. “perfect.”

although, perhaps it wasn’t as perfect as toji initially thought. because who knew you’d get walked in on—again? not by your father thankfully, but shiu kong, toji’s long-time best friend, and no one other than your one and only ex-boyfriend.

shit.

Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 3/3)

The two men don't think they've ever moved faster to do something in their lives. Gojo was scooping you up into his arms in the blink of an eye and Choso was rushing to clean the mess you'd made of his couch.

They were both oddly in sync, seeming to have had the same thought process of what they were about to do with you and how. Choso stayed where he was to clean up a bit and Gojo was carrying you off in the direction of Choso's bedroom.

Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 3/3)

The two men don't think they've ever moved faster to do something in their lives. Gojo was scooping you up into his arms in the blink of an eye and Choso was rushing to clean the mess you'd made of his couch.

They were both oddly in sync, seeming to have had the same thought process of what they were about to do with you and how. Choso stayed where he was to clean up a bit and Gojo was carrying you off in the direction of Choso's bedroom.

DETOUR - HAYAKAWA AKI |早川アキ (M)

You and Aki are supposed to be on your way back from a mission, but the rain that’s been pouring non-stop has Aki pulling over to the side of an empty road for safety precautions. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any sooner, so what better way to spend that time than to have sweaty, breathy, messy sex in the back seat?

MINORS DNI

Pairing: aki x fem!bodied reader

word count: 8.0k

he smokes for a little bit. also calls you baby a few times.

Car baby

DadHusband!SimonRiley x PregnantWife!Reader (afab)

Summary: A couple days after your due date, your water broke but you persisted to stay at home while you had the opportunity to - even though Simon hated the idea. And because of that, you are now having the baby. On the way to the hospital.

———————

word count: around 1.2k

cw: pregnancy, depictions of intense pain - a little blood, bad language, dangerous driving, car birth.

———————

sorry if they’re spelling mistakes, i didn’t go through it properly properly. kinda lost it at the end, but enjoy !

Ghost rushes to your aid, only this time, it's to help with a pickle jar.

———————————————————————

“C’mere.” He orders, motioning with his hand.

You roll your eyes at him, although a slight grin forms on your lips.

“No!” you retort as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, leans back into the kitchen chair, and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Although he still wears his skull mask, you can imagine a smug expression on his face as he observes your failed attempts at opening that pickle jar.

You wipe your hand on your trousers, then grasp the lid, using your other hand to stabilise the jar. You take a deep breath and hold it in as you squeeze and twist with all your might. But the darn thing doesn’t budge—an oddity since you opened that jar fairly easily yesterday.

“You look like you’re about to fart.”

“Shut up, Ghost.” You snap through gritted teeth.

“What you do clearly doesn’t work,” he states firmly. “Just give me the fucking jar.”

You exhale, relax your grip and shoot him a threatening look.

“No,” you snap again, pointing at him with the jar. “I got this.”

He lifts the fingers that are resting on his bicep and shakes his head.

“It’s too tight, love.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔… says the nastiest shit in bed and it's fucking awesome.

you had been out with friends all night, dressed in the skimpiest of clothes for the occasion. you waved goodbye to him hours ago, latex skirt cupping your tempting backside when you turned. your lacey top was clasped together by two wimpy ribbons. it was good that you left without looking back, because he would've stopped you right at the steps and stripped that slutty skirt right off of you in front of the wide-open doors.

unknown to you, your fiancé, geto, had been driving himself crazy knowing that you had gone out looking so damn good. who was looking at you? who was looking at how fine you were? and he wasn't there to shoo them off? at this point, he was hopelessly driving himself up a wall with these thoughts. he counted the seconds down like a goddamn maniac, ears perky as ever— listening for any step or the sound of your car pulling up in the driveway to indicate you were home.

and trust that the minute you did come home, he jumped you the second you got into the door. you weren't even able to take off your platform heels before you were being thrown over geto's broad shoulder. he's got you on the bed, latex skirt shoved up to your waist. hell, the man was so eager to get your underwear off of you that he just left the damn thing hanging off of your platform boot.

"sugu— hah, fuck—" you whine, feeling his fingers tenderly stretch your gummy insides.

"shh, shush, sweetheart. can you hear that?" geto chuckles, fingers drawing a nasty, squelching noise from your soaking cunt. "can you hear how she's clenchin' around my fingers?"

and god, your fiancé was annoying.

you got embarrassed so easily, and he took advantage of that. talking you through every orgasm and purposefully pushing your buttons to see your face crinkle up in embarrassment meant that he was winning.

"sugu, god— you're so 'mbarrassin..." you moan, helplessly gripping at the white sheets.

"oh, look at you." he presses a soft kiss to your perky clit. "i was 'jus waiting for you to come home."

"you are the worst—"

"'n she's so tight f'me," geto coos, leaning his head onto your trembling thigh. "we had sex yesterday, baby, did i not stretch you out enough?"

"you—" you choke out, "you did, but i—" you begin, but your words fall on deaf ears when you realize that he's not even talking to you.

he's talking to your pussy.

his fingertips lightly brush your cervix, and you immediately tighten around his fingers. you hate the way he chuckles, recognizing you're incredibly close to cumming.

"are you gonna cum?" geto purrs, "is my pretty pussy gonna cum?"

his words immediately go to your cunt, and you frantically shake your head as if it'll stop the orgasm currently hurling towards you. when you don't respond outside of your moans and soft whines, geto's free hand finds yours.

"sweet girl." he smiles softly, giving your hand a squeeze. "cum on my fingers, can you do that for me?"

you nod, mind fuzzy with pleasure. he thumbs your clit. once, twice, before you finally come crashing down. your body relaxes, all the former tensions disappearing immediately as the bed sheets engulf your exhausted figure.

geto pulls his fingers out of your wetness, drawing a nasty line of cum from your pussy before leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. there's the faint stale taste of your womanhood and the warmth of his spit. you laugh into his mouth before he pulls away. the bedroom is filled with a peaceful silence. the only sounds are your soft breaths and the crinkling of sheets as your beloved settles next to you. he noses your cheek obnoxiously.

"was it it the latex skirt?" you ask between pants.

"how'd you know?" geto chuckles, taking you into his arms and kissing the strap of your lace top. "am i obvious?"

"you are." you chime.

"yeah? well then, this is your even more obvious hint to wear it more often."

© YUNYMPHS 2024 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

i want to be there😔

credit: bboana

i’m

yakuza!getō suguru x tattoo artist!reader| 1/2 | wc; 12.9k

story summary; you're a tattoo artist hidden amidst the bustle of shinjuku city and renown with tourists. due to a misstep of your shady employee, you're visited one night at closing by an eerily beautiful man in a disheveled suit and no tie requesting an intricate back piece done traditionally. the undertaking slowly begins to unthread your life piece-by-piece the closer you get to him until there is no way out.

story warnings; dark content, yakuza au!, details about tattooing, traditional tattooing (tebori), money laundering, injuries to mc, implied death of oc, manipulation, power imbalance, a bunch of cultish shit, mc doesn't fuck around and is a hardass + sort of a bully to their employee, sex w/ injury, getō smokes, mc dogging on foreigners, implied stalking, prose + detail heavy, explicit sexual content, heavily implied homicide, graphic details of violence + wounds.

read the warnings! + mdni! events within this story are not indicative of my personal viewpoints.

thank you @ceruleansol for your earlier proofreading efforts! appreciative, as always!

a/n: this is part one of two. i strongly implore that you reblog & interact with this post! it helps out authors tremendously when you do!

A silvery peal called out to the little shop stifled in past-midnight silence. During regular business hours, it was a good sound to hear; it meant that your next client had parked their feet through the threshold behind a closed door and jittered a bell hanging by a red string. In this case, you hadn't been fast enough to flick off the neon signage anchored into the building outside, nor set the deadbolt to signal the shop had retired for the night.

You were still hard at work wiping down your workspace, the last appointment of the night having taken several hours longer than intended with a squeamish foreigner who couldn't bite his knuckles long enough for you to finish linework on his ankle.

"It's past midnight. Come back some other time," you said, inflectionless, unwilling to be deterred in your task. It didn't occur to you to even give this newcomer the time of day by looking at them. "I have all my information online. Email for appointment bookings."

"Oh, really? That's too bad," replied the stranger, voice traceless of the frustration you were accustomed to when turning people away at odd hours. "I was told this would be a better time to come by for a consultation."

That made you jolt upright, swiveling toward the man standing inside your shop. Strangely, you hadn't anticipated the way he sounded when he spoke—affable, syrupy, and an elegant, fluid stroke on glazed canvas—to be so different from how he looked—tall, lean, refined with a sort of edge to him that'd intrigue anyone in a room he walked into.

Apart from his appearance, something you couldn't be sure was real with him bathed in the faint neon-red glow from flickering bulbs filtering in through the windows, you were drawn to the somewhat disheveled suit he wore. It looked like something a salaryman uniformed himself in while sitting on his ass for twelve hours in one of Tokyo's skyscrapers.

He doesn't have a tie. That stood out to you at this late hour.

Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.

Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 

Word count. 9.0k

A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.

Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.

With a capital h. 

Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.

Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 

The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 

Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.

Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 

What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

MARKED MINE — gojo satoru

it was special and intimate. satoru laughed the first time it happened.

you came back home from a night out, both of you a little bit under the influence of alcohol. you barely unlocked the door — being precise with your movements while drunk was tricky, especially when you had to insert a key into the lock, and even more when your boyfriend was a bit of a dickhead and made sure to mock you as much as he could while you were trying to unlock the door — snorting at how you couldn’t find the hole, that it was his job to poke inside and not yours, that he could find it with his eyes closed because you trained him so good — all while feeling you up from behind with his hard-on pushing out the crotch of his slacks, rubbing between your ass cheeks.

after a few minutes of struggling, you finally managed to unlock, and the second you stepped in and closed the door — you were pinned against it, his hands slipping under your dress only to grab your ass and lift you over his groin as you gripped on his shoulders for support. you could feel his hardness against your clothed cunt, already sensing that his big balls had a nice load for you in there.

“you are so pretty”, satoru whispered as his lips brushed against yours. “ how do you know — the lights are off”, you breathed into his mouth, putting one hand at the back of his neck, your nails giving a little scratch on his undercut, the sensation making him hiss.

“you know”, he pushed his hips slightly forward, his tip pressing against your clothed cunt, “i don’t have to look — i can smell you already. you always smell so beautiful”

——————————————————————————

Contrary to his name literally meaning “blessing”, Megumi was nothing short of a curse during bath time. He absolutely hated it, and he made it his tiny life’s mission to make sure his parents dreaded it as well.

“Megs, please just.. work with me here,” Toji pleaded, exhaustion brewing inside of him, his hands desperately trying to keep the squirming child before him tame.

You’d gone to run some errands, leaving Toji to attempt bath time alone, his previous confidence shriveling into nothingness the second he heard little Megumi cry as soon as he was dunked into the warm water. At three months old, he was the perfect child, quiet and happy, tame in every aspect of life, a fact that seemed to be nothing but false when Toji was the one left in charge of watching him.

Toji didn’t even think it possible for something to cry as much as Megumi did without passing out, but he had been proven wrong before, the wriggling thing in his hands wailing his heart out to try and convince his dad to let him out. “I’m sorry baby, but you did this to yourself,” he huffed, gently rubbing bubbles along his son’s belly, tiny feet kicking water up at him, Megumi clearly trying to escape the horror of his nightly bath.

You see, Toji would feel bad for his baby had he not been the cause for the bath in the first place, the mashed carrots he had for dinner ending up smeared down his face and front, far from the target of his mouth. Said carrots began to fade away from the whimpering Megumi’s skin, turning the water into a soapy orange. His little body fit perfectly in Toji’s large hands, the newborn scrunch still apparent as baby Megs’ legs squished up to his belly in a useless attempt at kicking his dad’s fingers away.

The crying problem only escalated as soon as Toji introduced a washcloth into the picture, Megumi squealing, kicking and writhing with so much force, he might as well have been a full-grown adult.

Without your seemingly ‘all-knowing’ insight when it came to parenting, Toji rushed to find his own solution, grabbing a used bottle of soap that appeared to be extremely bubbly, hurriedly pumping out the liquid into the water filled basin, praying that the mysterious substance would somehow, someway, quell the curse possessing his son.

It was almost as if Megumi was hypnotized or something, because the instant the familiar smell of his mother hit his nose, his screaming cries died down to nothing but little babbles, coos leaving him in a low, comfortable purr. You see, it wasn’t just any old soap bottle. No, it was the soap you had used to bathe Megs the night after you’d come home from the hospital after giving birth. Toji remembered just how surreal and peaceful the night was, so he could understand why the familiar scent would coax his baby into a severe bout of relaxation.

Finally quitting his incessant wriggling, Megumi relaxed in Toji’s hold, the smell of the soap slowly coaxing him into a sleepy state, his little nose wrinkling and eyelids occasionally fluttering open and closed. Toji hadn't noticed before but his tiny fingers began to wrap around his pinky finger, holding onto it in a playful manner.

“hm-” Toji hummed, finally understanding the cause of his son’s untamable mood. “You just miss mama, huh?” he murmured, gentle as he picked up a sponge, running the soft material along the cooing baby’s chest and belly, sudsing up his little body, taking advantage of the sleepy mood that seemed to come over the boy.

“Yeah.. me too,” was all Toji could think to say, honestly relating to the fit his son had thrown over missing his mother, Toji feeling the same way but without the screaming and crying to show it. Finishing his gentle cleansing, Toji leaned down to press a kiss on the sleepy Megumi’s forehead. "Let’s get you to bed," he whispered, hand cupping some water to rinse him with before he gently lifted him to his chest, head resting against his shoulder.

It was a breeze the rest of the night, Toji falling victim to sleep as well, he and Megumi alike in a sense that they both enjoyed resting more than anything. The couch was the chosen spot, Toji lying shirtless against the large piece of furniture, Megumi’s blue, fuzzy onesie warm against his chest as they dozed off, a large hand resting against the tiny baby’s back, holding him safe and sound even while unconscious.

He couldn’t explain it, but being alone with his child, his baby, kindled a feeling of comfortability, of pure contentment, in his chest, he knew that no matter how untamable or stubborn or confusing Megumi could be at times, he would always be his son, his little curse of a blessing.

——————————————————————————

choso has your name tatted on his v-line and surprised you with it when he was fucking the shit out of you.

he loved you so much and couldn’t deny that; he always thought about you and always yearned for you. if he saw flowers in the store, he would get them for you; if he saw something he thought you'd like, he got it; it didn’t matter the cost.

there was no doubt in the love he felt for you; he wanted a reminder of you everywhere he went, so he got your name tatted in your favorite place.

your name with a little heart beside it. when he looked at it in the mirror, his cheeks turned bright red, and he had a huge smile on his face.

he knew he had to wrap it, but he couldn’t wait, so he got you in bed, stripped you and himself down, and got to work.

avoiding taking off his briefs so you couldn’t see it yet. you could tell choso was a little happier that day, but you just went with it.

it wasn’t until he had you on your back and was giving you deep strokes with his briefs down to a point that you noticed little “scribbling.”

“what… what’s that?” your breath was short from the pleasure you were receiving; it was almost like you were hallucinating, but it was too dark.

your hand reaching out and touching it was definitely real. taking your finger and hooked it on the hem of his briefs and tugged it down, your eyes going wide.

he takes your hand, slides his fingers in between yours, and leans down, giving you a kiss on the cheek and pushing into you deeper, a moan slipping past your lips.

“focus baby.” his voice soft as he pushed into you again deeper, pressing on your soft spot and staying there, pushing his briefs down all the way.

sliding his fingers out of yours, sliding his finger over the tattoo, and looking at you through his eyelashes, his face getting red again.

“how’s that? you like it?” your mouth ajar and a laugh escaping your lips. reaching your hands to his face and pushing him into your lips.

“i love it.”

that tattoo is a reminder of how much he loved and cherished you.

mornings