yeonjisstuff

[yeonjisstuff]

Imagine sleepy sex with Hiromi after a long day of work, him finding comfort in the space between your thighs as he lazily eats you out, nose bumping and grinding against your clit while you let out quiet mewls and whines.

Or grasping onto his now loose tie as he manoeuvres his hips to thrust deeply into you, chasing after his next climax with his face buried in your neck, obsessed with your scent.

Hi guys

[yeonjisstuff]

i ❤️ you passionate missionary

[yeonjisstuff]

[yeonjisstuff]

⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

[yeonjisstuff]

Nanami has a habit of kissing your left ring finger even before you guys are married. Right from the first date after he kisses you goodnight at your doorstep, to when he's finally standing in front of you at the altar. Holding back tears - oh, who is he kidding, Nanami's only regret that day was he got your pretty ring all teary when he kissed your finger.

It comes as second nature to him, and he's genuinely surprised when you point it out - as if why wouldn't he kiss your ring finger? Why wouldn't he make a silent promise to himself that you were the one.

Not that he needed any reminding, but he makes sure to kiss your ring finger even when his blond hair grows a little grayer, his smile a little wrinklier. Still by your side, still with that pretty ring on your finger.

[yeonjisstuff]

Husband!Nanami who worked just for you, who dedicated every hour of work and every penny he earned to you and your relationship. He had a lot of plans for the both of you in the future, and he desperately wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, hell, maybe even start a family with you once his savings hit the milestone.

But work could be so. fucking. draining.

He would often come home, too exhausted to even shower or take off his clothes, slumping on the sofa as soon as he stepped foot into the living room.

And today could honestly not get any worse for Nanami. Not only was he forced to stay an hour overtime, but he was forced to work on a project that he had little to no interest in. On top of that, nobody from his work group were cooperating, and his boss wasn't answering his emails about it. He swore he'd open his own fucking business one day so he wouldn't have to deal with shit like this.

|Kento❤️: Honey, i'm sorry, but i think i'll be late tonight. You can eat dinner without me.

|You: Alright, Kento. Don't push yourself too hard. I love you.

|Kento❤️: I'll try. I love you too.

But even if he worked too hard from time to time, you were so understanding.

You never complained, not even the slightest, and you never asked him anything. Nothing but his love, and that was, without a doubt, one of the many reasons why he loved you so much.

He came home expecting that you were asleep, that the house was dark, considering the fact that it was 11 pm, but instead, he was welcomed by the smell of lovely food, and a warm, dim, light illuminating the house. Out of pure curiosity, he peeked his head into the kitchen, the smell of garlic filling the room. Nanami loved garlic fried food.

He watched as you assembled a plate, merely one big portion of chicken-garlic alfredo pasta, along with some crispy garlic bread, taking the plate as you headed for the dining room.

You jumped a bit when you saw Nanami, but the slight shock on your expression was replaced by a soft smile, before you spoke in a calm tone.

"Oh, Kento! You're just on time. I made you dinner!"

You cheered as you walked to the dining table, placing the plate and some utensils on the wooden surface, even filling a glass of ice cold water up for him.

Nanami hadn't felt such relief, love, and gratitude in ages. Ofcourse he felt those things with you often, but this specific day... this was just what he needed, and he couldnt be more grateful.

Or maybe, he could.

He could definitely be more grateful, which was maybe why he was now laying on his stomach, big arms wrapped around your thighs as his tongue practically made love to your pussy.

He was moaning against your core like a starved man, almost as if your slick could make him more satisfied and full than the delicious pasta and bread he had just gulped down

"K-Kento..! P-please, mngh... right there!"

You cried out, feeling his tongue pressing flat against your clit, his pace only increasing the more you pleaded. You were practically in heaven at this point, and just as you thought it couldn't get better, you gushed around his tongue, letting out the most sinful sounds as you tugged at his hair, feeling him lightly kissing your pussy to soothe your orgasm.

Your breath hitched as you felt him crawl up to you, his body hovering over you as he looked at you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck, his breath sending tingles down your spine as he whispered

"Just one more... Please, baby? 'wanna feel you cum around my cock.."

a/n: i deadass cant get myself to write my upcoming fic.. I'M TRYING I SWEAR😭😭😭

Divider credits on my pinned!!!

[yeonjisstuff]

What are y writing rn

right now, school is stressin me out sooo fucking much, but im currently working on finishing a satoru fic and im also planning on a lil nanami drabble :) i'll try to finish both when i can

[yeonjisstuff]

☺️HWEED😌

syn: Toji finds your edibles...

cw: none. straight crack...pun intended

a/n: i may be a lil high right now. dont tell nobody

“Toji!”

Your voice carried from the hallway, beating you to the living room where you expected to find your boyfriend. He was in his usual spot on the couch, manspreading in his sweats and white tank. A backwards royal blue ball cap sat upon his head, pushing his fringe back from his face.

He looked content and relaxed, leaned all the back and into the couch cushions with the remote resting in his lap , his eyes fixated on the television screen.

You came stomping in the room in your fuzzy yellow slippers, wrapped in your bath towel with a shower cap still on, huffing frustratedly as you scanned the room for something.

“I know I didnt leave it...Toji. You didn't hear me calling you?” you look at him curiously as his hooded gaze drags in your direction. He blinks slowly, frowning at your question.

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual, as if he’d just woken up, but you dont have time to care about it. You were too busy trying remember where you’d last seen your stuff. Another exasperated sigh leaves you as you asked....

“Ok well, Have you seen a little black bag? Like a mini gift bag with blue strings for handles? I swear i put it on the counter..” you look away, posting your hands on your hips and poking your bottom lip out.

Toji’s frown deepened for a moment. He lifts his head with a thoughtful scowl , narrowing his gaze on you. Suddenly, realization sparks across his face.

“Ooooooh that bag...with the cookies and shit in it..” he mumbles, letting his head fall back into the cushion. Your hands fall from your hips as you perked up at Toji’s response.

“Yes with the cook...Hold up” you pause, your eyes now scanning the areas surrounding Toji until then focus in on the matte black gift bag with blue strings tucked in the crook of is arm.

Your eyes narrow into slits.

“Toji. What is that?”

At you change in tone, Toji lifts his head again, perking his brow.

“What is what?” he feigns ignorance but you knew damn well he knew what was what. You lift your arm slowly to point a finger at the bag.

“THAT. Right there.” your lasor beamed glare guides Toji attention straight down to the little bag cradled against his bicep.

“Oh. You meant this bag!”

You close your eyes, saying nothing as you summon the powers of the universe to ground you. Your fingers lift to pinch the bridge of your nose as you tapped your foot against the carpet

“Toji..My Toji..My ButterBall..My BooBiscuit...I just know you didnt eat my stuff. Please tell me I know..”

Toji stares at your blankly with a clueless sheen over his mossy eyes.

“Um...You know?” his tone scoops upward and tucked your lips together, exhaling sharply through your nose.

“Dont play with me right now. Just tell me. Did you eat all my stuff? All my cookies and gummies?” you whine, still tapping your foot steadily. You opened your eyes to find an incredulous look on Toji’s face made you want to wind back slap him across the forehead.

Similarly to you before, Toji jutts his bottom lip out in fake utter confusion.

“whaaaaaaaaat?????” his deep voice scoops again.

“Whatchu talking bout? You know i dont like candy like that..”

“What about the cookies then?” you tilt your head, hands back on your hips. Toji stares at you blinking, eventually blowing between his lips dissmissively.

“Psshhbbbb..No. I did not” he slurs in a way that was very unlike him, his gaze back on the TV intently.

Thats when you noticed it wasnt even on. Toji was literally staring at a blank screen as if it were playing something. Thats also when it dawned on you.

This mf high...

“AHAH!!!!! You did!! How many?” you ask, having to snap your fingers a few times to regain Toji’s attention seconds after you posed the question. He blinks up at you lazily again.

“Hmm?”

“HOW. MANY. COOKIES. DID. YOU. EAT?” you repeat with emphasis and the dumbfounded look on Toji’s face told you before he did.

“You muthafucka..” you say under your breath as Toji looked down at his hands to hold up two fingers.

“Uhhhhm 2...I think. “ he tilts his head, glancing off to the side in thought.

“Aw hell..” you sigh. At that, Toji perked up a little, seemingly concerned.

“Why? What was wrong with em?” he asks and you walk around the centered chesnut coffee table to thump him on the forehead.

“Ow.” he whined softly.

“Dumb ass. Those were edibles! From the dispensery.”

“The dispensary? Wait, those had weed in them? Ohho shit..” Toji begins to laugh, running his hand over his face as he leaned back. You stood there watching him silently as he seemed all too tickled by the fact that his greediness landed him on a loooooong one way trip to stoneville.

“Fuck..and I ate 2! Oh shit..” he continued to giggle, a sound as rare as rain in the sahara. But the tension in your face abs body gradually dissilated as you watched your normally nonchalant and unapproachable man, be reduced to a giddy fool due to an overload of THC.

You cant help but find it adorable.

“Thats a damn shame..” you shake your head all while Toji laughed himself into a coughing fit. He pats his chest with his fist a few times before laying his palm flat over his heart.

“Wheew shit. Im fucked up..hehe..” he snorts and a reluctant chuckle escapes you.

“A damn shame..” you repeat.

“Damn...” Toji and echoes, his sleepy gaze focusing on the ceiling for a second.

His ammusment tapered as a thought occured to him.

“Wait, whats gonna happen now? I dont do drugs..And since when do you do drugs??”

“Aaaand the paranoia hits..” nod amidst Toji’ one solitaire version of 21 questions.

“..Will i start losing hair? Or get a gut? Or..”

“Nothing will happen to you. Well, nothing bad or dangerous at least. Youre gonna be hungry as fuck in a minute though.” you assure him, mood completely flipped.

“Im always hungry..”Toji shrugs and you scoff.

“Clearly! I don't recommend you eat anything else out of that bag or its gonna get even weirder you. I cant believe your greedy ass really ate two. Those ‘$4 a pop’ , soft and chewy...big.. Hey those were some big ass cookies, Toji..”

“I know.Two THICK ASS cookies..” he wrinkles his nose with impressed disgust, as if he didnt just inhale those cookies 30 minutes ago.

You went off on a rant, reprimanding him sternly amd going on about how yiu were looking firward to having your cookie and relaxing because you’d had a long week. As you were talking, Toji was entertaining himself by waving his hand in front of his face slowly, letting out a stiff grunt in reaction the delay trailed its shape waving along.

“Toj..”you cut off the second syllable of his name when you noticed him blinking one eye at a time, as if he were about to fall asleep.

You clap your hands together loudly and Toji flinches to alterness dramatically.

“Oh my god.. This fool is high. I never thought I’d see the day. Look at yourself..” you gesture towards him and Toji’s scrunches up.

“How? Like in a mirror?” he asks, your only response is squint at him. With a shake of your head, you know that was about as much as you could handle for the night.

“I cant.” you laugh, snatching up your bag from the couch and turn away, curls slinging around under the shower cap.

“Bye Toji. Dont leave the house. And DONT you eat anymore of my stuff or else!” you threaten him over your shoulder before disapperong down the hallway.

Leaving Toji in the living alone again, swatting a hand at you dismissively, then going right back to sitting confortably and staring at the black TV screen.

For another 30 minutes.

[yeonjisstuff]

Summary: You and your ex-husband Nanami have a good relationship. Even after the divorce you remained good friends and even better co-parents. Babysitting for one another isn’t out of the usual, and talking about your newest relationships isn’t strange either— but when you show up at his doorstep after a particularly nasty date it leads you both to wonder if your relationship is really truly over for good.

Cw: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, small mentions of cheating, you and Nanami have a kid together, girl dad Nanami, hair pulling, consent king Nanami, oral (fem receiving), aftercare !!!

“Fine! Fucking leave!” You yell, your voice cracking as cold rain pierces your skin.

That asshole. That shitty excuse of a man your boyfriend of two weeks, left you on the side of the road. Alone. In the middle of a late summer storm.

But what did you really expect to happen? The red flags were all neatly lined up for you. Sure maybe the fact that he smelt like a different woman’s perfume every time you met should’ve set you off, but maybe you were just over thinking it! Maybe he was a little too handsy for a man you just started dating, and maybe he was a little rude to waitresses, and bartenders, and you— but your last straw was calling him out on his empty threats. ‘I’ll leave you-‘ for this ‘I’ll shut your ass up’ for that. God did he ever stop talking. You snapped; telling him that if you pissed him so much then why didn’t he just drop you off on the side of the road. The only time he’d ever followed through… and it had to be now.

Low rumbles of thunder sound in the distance, blending with the pop of his engine as he speeds away. Inside your head is a loud jumbled mess of ‘where the fuck am I?’ and ‘who does he think he fucking is?’ but all of that sound is ultimately drowned out by that heavy pitiful feeling tugging at your heart. Angry tears prickle at the backs of your eyes as you walk, your heels crunching pebbles and walking through puddles, carrying you to the only place you know by heart. To the only man who you know wouldn’t leave you stranded.

If the night were to play out correctly you wouldn’t be showing up till noon the next day, even when dates did go wrong you never made it his problem. You were divorced after all, your love life mishaps stopped being his problem a while ago. Okay that isn’t entirely true… Nanami comes over to your house once a week for family dinner. After your little girl is tucked away in her bed and the dinner dishes have been done do you two sit alone at the table, drinks in hand as you catch up. Talking about your kid wasn’t the only topic of discussion. Friends, gossip, dates, normal adult conversation. The topic of dating other people because less and less embarrassing as the years flew by. Like the amazingly wonderful co-parenting duo you are— you came up with the babysitting agreement. Nanami happily took your daughter for the night so you could relax and bask in the company of anyone you wanted. He cherished every minute he got with his little girl, it was never a disappointment when you texted him asking if he could take her for the night.

Lost in the depths of your own mind you aimlessly walked down the dark and dreary road. Void of people, void of light. The only sound the pattering of rain and the rumbles of thunder.

Static buzzed in your ears as you slid into the empty apartment lobby, your soggy heels clacking against the neat polished floors. Your tears fizzled into a pale anger that burned the back of your throat as you pressed his floor number on the elevator. The only good thing about this entire situation, you think, is that the rain washed away the feeling of his hands on your skin. The scent of him clinging to your clothes. All gone. Washed down the sewage drain with the unpleasant memory of him.

Softly, you knocked on his door. It’s well past eleven, he should be asleep, but you know him better than that.

Nanami slowly opens the door, his brows furrow as his eyes meet yours. Concern painting his face.

You don’t have the energy to answer his unsaid questions, so instead you silently squeeze past him, kicking your wet heels off at the door. The air-conditioned room sends shivers up your soaked spine, littering your skin in goosebumps as you carry yourself to his liquid cabinet. Your fingers find the key he keeps hidden on the top of the rich oak cabinet, quickly pushing it into the lock and twisting. You’re on a mission as you blindly grab a bottle, bumping the door closed with your hip before turning to his rack of expensive drinking glasses, plucking two and setting them onto the counter with a soft clink.

He watches you pop the cork as quietly as you can, pouring the expensive liquid into two glasses, pushing one towards him without a word as you bring the sparklingly clear glass to your gloss smeared lips.

Married for four years, divorced for two, he knows the crinkle of your nose and the subtle twitch in your eye means one thing— you’re fuming. Beyond mad. If there was a word for that level of anger he’d use it to describe you in this moment.

He knows better than to ask what’s wrong, so instead he drinks with you; listening to the wall clock tick, to your nails tap against marble countertop, to the soft melody flowing from his record player. Darkness envelops you both, the only light combing from his little yellow reading lamp. It’s hardly enough to aluminate your faces, but the flicker of amber reflects in your fiery eyes.

“I think I got dumped.” You mutter, swishing the dark liquid around in your glass. You don’t wait for him to respond as you groan, willing the anger to subside and for the chill in your skin to vanish.

The crackle of the record prickles your ears just as much as the cool night air prickles your skin, filling your veins with ice as you continue to drink.

Nanami watches you, your hair drips onto your shoulders, your mascara streaky and your lips smudged. Disheveled and shivering in his kitchen. Filled with that unmistakable blinding anger you hold with such grace. If he was still your husband his hands would be wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him in a slow lazy sway to the soft music playing. But he isn’t your husband anymore. The word ‘ex’ stopped leaving a bad taste on his tongue a while ago— you’ve both worked around your usual ways to comfort one another and made them more friendly more… pg.

He pushes his glasses up into his hair, putting his glass down softly and disappearing into the dark hall. But you don’t notice. Not when your stomach pulls, not when your head is swimming with so many useless thoughts— thinking of the waisted days, waisted nights. Ugh even waisted money. All on some asshole—

“The bath is running, I left a towel out for you.” Nanami says as he reenters unnoticed, his voice soft and airy as he stops infront of you with a towelette. He tilts your chin to the side, your eyes scanning over his face as he cleans yours; he runs the cool wipe over your cheek, under your eyes and across your lips. He knows you’re more than capable, but still he handles you as delicately as humanly possible, swiping away stray hairs clung to your forehead and cheeks as if you would shatter under his fingers like the glasses you drank from.

He finishes, turning away to clean up the kitchen as you make your way towards the sound of running water.

The smell hits you before you push open the door; lavender scented suds decorate the surface of the water. Steam swirls into the air as you peel off your wet clothes— and for the first time tonight you were excited. Scolding water seeps into your skin as you step in, a tired groan escapes your lips as you sink farther in.

It’s funny how things change, how time passes and people grow apart, you think as you submerge your shoulders. Nanami used to run you baths almost every night, his small way of telling you how much he cherished you. Bubbles of every scent, bath oils and salts, candles and wine. The memory like a blanket as your skin tingles under the scolding water.

A soft knock at the door has your droopy eyes opening, “It’s unlocked.” You say, your voice horse and exhausted. Nanami softly cracks the door open, he walks in and places a small bundle of clothes onto the toilet lid, “You can wear these.” His clothes, a lounge shirt, too old sweatpants and a pair of boxers. You watched as he picked up your pile of sopping clothes, ringing the remaining water into the sink.

You’ve worn his clothes before. On laundry day, the morning after… an eventful night, even when you just missed him. That weird feeling in your stomach probably means nothing.

You watch him in the low light of the bathroom, his muscles rippling under his t-shirt as he works the water from the fabric in a comfortable silence.

“How was your night?” You ask, your fingers swirling through foamy bubbles. Nanami hums as he turns to face you; he rests against the sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Fine.” He says, his tone even as he scans your face.

It’s normal— seeing your ex wife soak in your bathtub, naked in your home for the first time in years. The thought makes Nanami shift slightly, his eyes focusing on the tile behind you. A safer option.

You mold the bubbles into little lumps, feeling his gentle gaze on you as if it’s normal again. Maybe tomorrow this memory will haunt you, make you burn up from the inside out. How oddly vulnerable the entire ordeal is. But for now you just smile softly, “what, you’re not going to ask me about my night?” You hum only half kidding.

Clearing his throat he turns back to the sink, “I assumed you wouldn’t want to talk about it.” Droplets of rainwater trickle down the drain as he squeezes the fabric again.

You don’t want to talk about it, so why did you even bother bringing it up?

You lean back, your eyes still glued to the fizzling bubbles in your palm and clinging to your skin. Where would you even start? Maybe how your date was ogling the waitress as soon as you got there, or maybe how he tried to gaslight you in the car, or how you have him the wicked suggestion to dump you onto the streets.

“Would you?” He asks, cutting through the silence, “Like to talk about it, I mean.”

Maybe you could talk about how your date never asked what you wanted. Or how he never called you gorgeous, just because. Maybe you could bring up how he only ever seemed to want you a little more when other women wouldn’t look his way.

There’s a line, right? Between ex’s and friends? There’s things you shouldn’t talk about past a certain point. Yet you still got excited to tell him about small insignificant things. Like the amazing bagel you had for breakfast, or how you and your daughter watched the most gut wrenching animated movie the night before and cried way more than she did; the small things you never seemed to tell your other partners. But you were friends… right? That’s what this was. A friendship.

You hum, “let me wash my hair first.” Nanami takes his cue, collecting your still wet clothing and leaving the bathroom.

You dip your head under the rapidly cooling water after heating the door click closed. The soft hum and the slight pop as the water envelops you like a liquid blanket, drawing you in as you hold your breath.

✮ ✮ ✮

His clothes seem to always sag on you, no matter your size they always felt so big. The cold hardwood floor sends a shiver up your spine as you step through the quiet hall. Nanami sits in his arm chair, your unfinished glass waiting for you on the coffee table, the record has been changed, joined with the soft hum of the drier now running, the warm yellow light still flickers away.

A time capsule of peace, this was your life. Coming home and reading your respective books on opposite sides of the room, or maybe together on the sofa huddled close together— but why’re you thinking about that now? Ugh it nags at you as you sit down, your body suddenly heavy as the plush couch pulls you in.

“What time is it?” You ask as you give in to exhaustion, your eyes fluttering shut and your head lulling back. You hear Nanami close his book, “2:45am.”

You sigh, digging the heels of your palms into your tired eyes, “Shit.” Despite the pang of unmet hunger in the pit of your stomach, despite the exhaustion gnawing at you, despite everything that’s happened tonight— you giggle. The sound startling another one out of you as you curl in on yourself, “god what a fucking night.”

Nanami gazes at you, drowning in his t-shirt, absolutely hysterical— with what he wonders.

“That asshole—“ you start, your wet hair clinging to your face as you roll your head to face him, “never once asked me what I wanted.”

He nods, and you continue, “not when we went out for dinner, not when we grabbed drinks, not when we fucked—“ your hands fly up on a silent groan, “who does that?” The question far above a whisper.

Nanami was many things— always busy, always working, but he never neglected you or your needs. That’s one thing you could never replace in your newer partners, his attentiveness.

“People are greedy.” He says, pushing his glasses up as he gently places his forgotten book onto the coffee table. “They—“ should he say this? Should he even be thinking it? But you’re friends… friends… comfort each other. “They don’t know how to please you in the ways you want crave— need. They never take the time.” His voice a husky whisper.

You groan, tired and not thinking as you go to continue complaining, “Like you know what I want.” The words come out with an edge you never meant to put there.

“I’m not saying that—“

“You might as well be, I never asked for your input, it was rhetorical.” You snap, the words clawing their way out before you can stop them. Was it pent up anger that made you stand up? Or maybe that simmering unmet lust burning deep in your gut that made you walk in front of him, challenging him, begging him wordlessly. Or maybe it was that deep history, etched into your bones, your body craving his forgotten touch.

He stares up at you, his legs spread wide, his arms gripping the armrests. His breathing slows, his eyes set on yours in a heated stare.

“Do you know what I want?” You ask, voice low, your words crackle with need. “Did you ever know what I wanted?“

Nanami knew you like the back of his hand. You liked when he’d go down on you, legs spread wide by his strong hands. You liked to pull his hair when he’d bite at your neck, so he grew it out. You liked when he’d ruin you with just his tongue while he held your small hand in his much larger one. He knew every freckle on your body, every stretch mark, every hair. He knew what your moods meant, when you were silently begging to be split apart on his cock.

He knew what you wanted more than you did.

The record keeps spinning as he rises, his body towering over you, his voice rumbles deep in his throat, “You know the answer… but tell me—“

You swallow thickly, your body stiffens as he brushes your drying hair from your shoulder, his face lowers, his hot breath fans over the damp shell of your ear sending goosebumps flying across your skin. “As long as we’ve been apart… have you ever wished… it were me between your legs?”

Your eyes flutter, just like your heart as you press your palms into his firm chest. Did you? You stand there, your fingers pressing harder into his clothed skin as you wrack your brain. Maybe you have been comparing your partners to him, maybe that’s by you can’t keep one— fuck maybe that’s why you got yourself kicked out of a car tonight. But his breath is so hot against your skin, you can feel his hands hover above your hips. You both know what you want, you both know what you need.

“If I said no,” your voice breathy, “would you believe me?”

He laughs, the sound brings a slime to your lips as his forehead falls to your shoulder. In this moment it seems so simple, feels so familiar. And maybe that’s all you need tonight.

“Is it… okay if I touch you?” He asks, that sentence hasn’t been heard in years, you’d almost forgotten how wet it makes you. Almost.

You nod, your palms slowly sliding up his chest and around his neck.

That light moment slowly fading before your eyes as he presses his lips to the exposed skin below your ear. “Words.”

“Yes dammit you know I hate when you—“

You choke on your words as he pulls back, his hand threading with your damp locks and craning your head back. Your eyes frantically search his, the reading lamp the only light reflecting off of them.

Nanami’s usual gentleness is gone as he stares you down. “You need to be quiet for me, can you do that?” One hand cradles your cheek, the other tugs at your hand, begging to be held.

Before you can answer he’s pulling you with him, leading you to his bedroom. The darkness of the apartment swallows you both as you enter the room, the music fading, the sounds of your eager breath becomes the only sound ringing in both of your ears.

He doesn’t waste time sliding his warm hands underneath your shirt, pulling you closer to him as his lips crash into yours.

Everything about him invades your senses, the taste of his lips, his touch, the smell of him— all of it makes you clench your thighs together as his fingers press into your soft skin.

“I forgot—“ Nanami’s lips trail a path down your throat, his fingers sliding under the waistband of the boxers you’re wearing, “how incredible you look in my clothes.” His boxers, his shirt, his sweatpants— all of it reeks of him— the overwhelming scent of his cologne makes you dizzy as the pads of his fingers teasingly brush against your clit. The tips of your ears burn as you choke down a moan, your own fingers tangling into his combed blonde hair.

He makes a quiet ‘tsk’ before biting your neck, a soft nip before he’s licking the pain away, “quiet—“ lithe fingers sink slowly into you, “or I stop.”

Lust clouds every rational thought swirling around inside of your brain as you nod frantically, desperate for him to continue.

“Good girl.” Your hips grind down onto his fingers, clit brushing against his palm with an infuriating lightness. Not enough. Never enough. A soft whine of frustration sounds in the back of your throat. His free hand sneaks up your throat, his fingers dancing across your jaw, this thumb pulling at your plump bottom lip. A groan—husky and raw sounds deep in his chest as the diget slips past your lips into your warm wet mouth. Hot and slick as he presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue.

Dark eyes meet yours in the inky black of his room, “get on the bed.”

He pulls out of you, turning away from you before you can beg him to continue. Nanami rushes to the door, his feet light as he gently clicks it closed. You’re too busy peeling off his boxers to notice him lick a long stripe up his slick fingers, but you hear the sound he makes. He groans as his tongue licks every last drop of you from his fingers.

You sink onto the bed just as he flicks on a small lamp, your body cast in that familiar pale yellow glow. Nanami however is a silhouette before you, warm light framing his every move. Clenching around nothing you watch him peel his shirt off, the sound of his pants following suit. You crawl backward in search of the headboard, his hands grasp your ankles and in one quick yank you’re back at the edge. You instinctively clamp your thighs together as he sinks to his knees, hands prying your legs apart. “Don’t run from me, show me what I’ve been missing.” He whispers, his gentle voice sending shivers down your spine and to your waiting cunt. And he notices. You’re spread wide with his hands trailing torturously gentle shapes into your skin.

He feels so pathetic. He’s harder than he’s ever been as he gazes at your weeping pussy splayed out for him, leaking down your ass and onto his freshly washed sheets. How long will he just stare at you, mouth watering as you bite down hard on your bottom lip while your legs tremble under his feather light touch.

“Kento-“ you mumble, “this is embarrassing stop teasing m—“ you gasp at the sudden sensation. His lips find your swollen clit without fail, the familiarity slowly rising back to the surface. He mumbles against you, his words muffled and sending shivers straight through you as his fingers prod at your dripping hole.

It’s torture you think. The way he flattens his tongue against your throbbing clit, fingers sliding in with ease as you clasp your hand around your mouth. Lips trembling as you choke down moan after moan.

Nanami’s always been a tender lover, putting your needs above his own— it’s nice to know that hasn’t changed as you dig your heels into his mattress, thighs trembling and back arching ever so slightly as he bullies his fingers into you again and again. The desperate depraved moans you choke down slip out as small squeaks that have Nanami leaking through his boxers.

He can’t take it— how warm you are against his fingers, juices leaking down his arm, his tongue working in ways he’d forgot possible. He moans against you one final time before pulling off, licking his lips clean as you prop yourself up onto your elbows.

“Ken—“

“Turnover” his voice deep and laced with utter desperation as you watch him tuck his thumbs under the electric of his boxers.

It was like a game, waiting to see who will crack first as he peels away that last layer of fabric. He’s throbbing and so painfully hard under your watchful gaze. Your eyes taking in every vein, admiring that upward bend that had to seeing stars countless times— not even a foot away from you now.

“Can I-“ suck you off.

Large hands pull you forward, “Later.” That inhuman strength has you spinning, landing on your stomach with a startled yelp.

You push yourself up, arms trembling as he reaches over you and snatches a pillow. “W-wait, I wanted to—“ you go to stutter in protest only for his palm to press down firmly on your back, right between your shoulder blades. One second your hips are pressed into the soft bedsheets— the next they’re held high in the air only supported by his brutal grasp.

Your senses are on fire. Your cheek is pressed into a pillow that smells so much like his shampoo, your thighs covered in your cooling slick, all you can hear is your own hammering heart and jagged breaths as his hands slide over you. One trailing up the small of your back, sneaking over your shoulder blades and stopping at your nape. The other holds you up by the hips as he slots his cock between your slick folds with a sickeningly low groan.

Nanami presses his chest against your back, you can feel his heart, feel his body heat, you can practically taste the sweat that already adorns his face as his lips hover over the shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” He whispers, his voice so husky you can feel the rumble slide down your throat and live in your ribcage. You nod frantically, “Fine, okay you have my word— fuck—hurry up already! Please-please-please—“ you whine, a memory that will have your cheeks the richest shade of red come tomorrow.

“Good girl,” he hums, his tip slowly enters you with an infuriating slowness that has you gripping the sheets under you. “You learned how to use your words, m’proud of you angel.” He moans as he wills himself to go slowly, he wants to savor the way you clench around him again, savor the way you gush at his gentle praise.

One twitch of your hips and you’d be completely split open, and somehow that’s what you need. You press yourself into his sheets, rocking your hips back into him with that impatience that pissed him off and made him even harder.

More.

More.

More.

You groan, your lip bitten and raw as you beg. “Ken—“

His chest still rests against your back as he litters your neck in open mouth kisses, “I know, Angel.” His teeth graze the flesh of your neck to feel you tremble under him. “Be patient for me.”

It’s so hard to obey when he’s moving so deliberately slow— drawing it out so you feel every vein, every twitch, every slight stutter of his hips when you whine into the pillow under you. You don’t know how hard it is for him not to grab a fist full of your hair and press your face into the sheets— how hard it is for him not to snap his hips into yours at such a brutal pace it gives you a lip the next day. He needs to hear you scream his name until your lungs burn and your hands cramp from clinging onto him with the last of your strength.

Next time he thinks. Next time you’ll be all alone, folded in half under him with your pretty little face staring up at him as he fucks you again and again.

“So good for me.” He moans into your ear as his hips finally meet the swell of your ass. “So good.” He bites your neck, stifling a moan as you clench around him.

Nanami kisses the pain away as he pulls out halfway and then slowly entering again. And again. And again.

The feeling of him so deep in your gut has you panting, trembling and clawing at his pillow. Your hands ache from clinging to anything you can reach, but you’re afraid if you didn’t occupy yourself you’d scream, so completely under his control it drives you insane. You’re so focused on breathing and willing yourself not to be too loud that you don’t feel one of his hands leaving your body only to wrap around your wrist, his thumb circling your skin in time with his movements.

Slow and lazy strokes turn into quick sloppy thrusts, the soft squelch of your mixed arousal becoming louder in your ears. All you can hear is Nanami’s low groans next to your ear and the subtle squeak of the bed frame and it has your head spinning.

“Ken—“ you moan, teeth imbedded in your bottom lip.

He reminds that eager little yelp in your tone even when it’s being suppressed. You’re close already. So so close.

He sneaks his other hand under you, trailing it down your stomach as the other tightens around your wrist. 

Even if he can read you, he needs to know. To hear it drip from your lips and into the heated sizzling air. “What do you need? Tell me—fuck— tell me what you need.”

Your stomach flutters, ears burning and legs trembling as you whine. So high pitched and pathetic it has him reeling on top of you, his cock throbbing at the sound of pure desperation.

“M’so close— Kento please I need—fuck fuck fuck—“ you shudder as you feel the heat of his palm hovering over your clit. “Need to cum��“

His fingers hone in on your pulsing bud before the words even finish leaving your lips.

Who is he to deny you that high?

Maybe you’ve been so unknowingly pent up, or maybe you just craved his touch that much— but as soon as the rough pads of his fingers sought you out you felt your back bow, your lips tremble and you’re turning your hand palm up to intertwine your fingers with his as the coil in your gut tightens.

Nanami’s face scrunches as he feels your pussy tighten around him. You squeeze his hand, you tremble under him and moan and drool onto his pillow. His bed might’ve smelt like him this morning but tonight it drips with you. The body he’s craved ever since his eyes met yours for the very first time— his pace quickens.

“Cum for me,” he hooks his chin over your shoulder. “Please— I need you to— fuck— I need it.” He whimpers, words trembling as his fingers quicken, his hand could fall off for all he cared. He needed this. He needed you.

He’s whined before, but now in this moment it sounded so sinful. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his now damp hair touch your cheek, you could feel his breath and if you opened your eyes— see the bead of sweat trickle down the curve of his nose.

His gruff voice sounded so sweet as he begged you, pleaded with you to cum around his cock.

You nodded, frantic.

The only warning your body allows is a shiver that shoots up the base of your spine as you cum. White flashes behind your eyelids as you bite into the pillow, your teeth threaten to pop a seam as you ride our your violent high through choked sobs.

Nanami cums after you, your tight walls spasming around him as he pumps you full with a groan that hangs heavy in the sticky air.

It takes everything he has left not to collapse on top of you as he eases his way out. Leaning back he watches as his cum oozes out of you, and with gentle fingers he pushes it back in, watching the way you writhe as overstimulation knocks on your door.

With a fuzzy head you allow him to carefully lay you on your back. His hand cups your cheek as he presses a parting kiss to your forehead. You hardly register his absence till you feel him part your legs, a warm towel glides up your legs and you hum at the cozy feeling of it. The familiar comfort he brings you is something you’ve missed. Nanami takes his time cleaning you up before he urges you under the covers. You sleepily comply.

Sleepily. Who knew his dick would be your melatonin again, you think to yourself as you tuck yourself farther into his bed with a content sigh. Before sleep can fully grasp you, you feel Nanami’s strong arms pull you to his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck once more. It isn’t long before you fall asleep in his arms, in the pitch black of his room, in a bed that smells like black coffee and lavender, just like you used to. It’s so familiar, so inviting and whole.

Maybe your next boyfriend will be better than the last guy. In fact… maybe he’ll be just like your ex-husband.

[yeonjisstuff]

i think satoru has a bit of adhd, like the kind where he can't read books because he'll accidentally re-read the same line over and over again, so he would have suguru read the assigned books to him

he still hasn't told you why he gets so quiet when you read to him with his head in your lap as your run your fingers through his hair

[yeonjisstuff]

I CANT GET MYSELF TO WRITEEEUGHHH

[yeonjisstuff]

Husband!Toji who tries his best to help you, since he is a very busy man. He had just gotten out of the shower, noticing that you were pulling out the freshly cleaned dishes out from the dishwasher, putting them back in the cabinets among the other dishes. You felt his strong warm arms wrapping around your waist, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Rough day?" you asked, to which he hummed in response. He moved next to you, grabbing one of the glasses from the dishwasher, only for him to flinch away from it, the heat unexpected since he saw the way you were casually taking PORCELAIN bowls and not even rushing to place them back in the cabinets.

"Son of a.." he muttered under his breath, looking at the bowls you were grabbing, touching one himself, because maybe those dishes had cooled down, hence to why you weren't feeling any pain.

Toji was wrong.

"The fuck?"nhe huffed, letting go of the bowl and shaking his hand in attempt to ease the pain before gently massaging the burnt pads on his fingers.

"What?"

You questioned, standing still with one of the bowls in your hands. He looked at the bowl in pure confusion, snatching it with a low "gimme that," before grunting in pain from the insane heat, dropping it onto the table.

"How the fuck do you touch that??! Shit fuckin' burns.."

Toji scowled, rubbing his hands as he glared at the bowl. All you could do was giggle, rubbing his arm as you shook your head.

From then on, Toji didn't help you with emptying the dishwasher. At least not when it was recently finished. Not because he didn't want to, but he just simply couldn't. He wasn't used to the heat like you were.

"Tojiiii?"

" 'sup?"

"wanna help me unload the dishwasher?"

He'd watch you as you opened it, noticing the steam emitting from it, which could only mean one thing.

"Fuck no."

A/N: thought abt this silly little moment while emptying hot dishes myself.. teehee

divider credits on my pinned!!

[yeonjisstuff]

Real hot girl shit is listening to slime and food asmr while writing a fic

[yeonjisstuff]

uncomfortable elevator ride with husband sukuna

In your five years of being in a relationship with Sukuna, there are a lot of unspoken rules—little things you just do for each other without even thinking about it. He always covers your eyes when there’s a bright light because he knows about your migraines. He knows you hate folding clothes, so he never asks you to. He always eats your leftovers (you both know they’re his at this point). You know he hates doing the dishes, hates dying his hair every time it fades, and absolutely despises when people stare at him—or worse, at you. There’s just a long list of things, small habits and annoyances, that you’ve both memorized.

But there’s one thing that stands out: every time you're in an elevator together, it's an unspoken dare to make the ride as uncomfortable as possible for everyone else. It started a few years ago when you were both staying at a hotel and overheard a dad telling his kid he was adopted in the most awkward elevator conversation ever. The kid started crying, and it was one of those moments that was so uncomfortable, it was hilarious. You two laughed about it for days.

Since then, it’s been a tradition. Every elevator ride is an opportunity to top the last one, and it’s become your favorite inside joke. You’ll whisper ridiculous things to each other loud enough for everyone else to hear, pretending to argue or making up absurd stories. Sukuna’s deep voice just makes it all the better—he can make anything sound serious, and you have to hold back your laughter the whole time.

Sometimes, he’ll say something like, “I told you, the bodies are in the trunk. We’ll deal with them after dinner,” or you’ll gasp dramatically and go, “I can't believe you didn’t tell me you were married this whole time!” Watching people try not to react is the best part.

It’s never anything mean, just the perfect way to make elevator rides with strangers a little too awkward to forget. And the minute the doors close and you’re alone again, you both crack up like it's the funniest thing in the world.

You were at the hospital, days away from your due date, heavily pregnant with your first child. It had been the happiest, yet most stressful time in both your lives. You and Sukuna had been married for three years, and now you were about to become parents. Despite the nerves, you were excited.

But as you stepped into the elevator, the familiar gleam of mischief sparked in your eyes. Sukuna caught that little smirk on your face, and in that moment, he knew he was completely screwed.

You had that look—the one that always meant trouble. Even in your pregnant, about-to-pop state, you were ready to cause chaos. Sukuna let out a soft groan, already sensing what was about to happen.

The elevator started moving, and after a few seconds of awkward silence, you kicked off the drama with a loud, exaggerated sob. Everyone in the elevator shifted uncomfortably, trying to pretend they weren’t paying attention. Then, after a few more moments of tense quiet, you upped the ante.

“When are you going to tell your wife and kids about us?!” you screamed, causing heads to turn. You could barely keep a straight face as you continued, “You said you were going to divorce her for me, but here I am, still pregnant and single!”

Sukuna’s eyes widened as people started staring, some of them awkwardly looking away, others pretending to check their phones but clearly eavesdropping. He could barely contain himself, biting his lip to stop from bursting into laughter.

Sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “Babe,” he groaned in the most exaggerated, over-the-top tone, rubbing his temples, “how can you be single when you’re still married to my father? You haven’t even divorced him yet!”

The entire elevator froze. The woman in the back audibly gasped, and a guy near the front nearly dropped his phone. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, holding onto your belly for dear life.

One guy started coughing, clearly trying to hide his shock. You felt the eyes on you as if everyone was desperately trying to figure out if this was real or some sort of bizarre prank.

You huffed dramatically, throwing in one last twist. “I told you, I’m going to divorce him! It’s complicated!” you cried, crossing your arms over your belly in mock frustration.

Sukuna chuckled, pulling you into a warm embrace. “It’s okay, baby. If anything, it’s good this way. My baby can be my brother. Think about it!” he teased, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss.

The way he said it, with that serious tone and playful grin, made the whole situation feel even more ridiculous. As you both started making out loudly, the other elevator passengers shuffled to the corners, giving you a wide berth. It was like an awkward little bubble of chaos just for the two of you.

By the time the elevator doors finally opened, the poor strangers practically ran out, desperate to escape the uncomfortable scene. The moment you were alone again, you and Sukuna collapsed against the walls, laughing so hard it hurt.

You laughed so hard that suddenly, you felt a warm rush. It was as if the universe was in on the joke, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder. “Oh no, Sukuna!” you gasped, clutching your belly. “I think I just—”

Before you could finish your sentence, a contraction hit you like a wave. Your laughter turned into a surprised gasp, and Sukuna’s eyes widened.

“Wait, is it really happening?” he asked, half-amused and half-panicked.

“Yeah, it is!” you replied, still giggling between breaths.

As the contractions intensified, you both found it hard to stop laughing. It felt surreal to be in this moment of joy and anticipation, with your laughter echoing off the hospital walls.

Sukuna grinned, trying to keep things light despite the growing urgency. “I guess we’re really about to welcome our little brother!” he said, his voice filled with mock seriousness, despite the reality of the situation.

After hours of blood, sweat, and tears (BTS, baby!), you finally welcomed your sweet baby boy, Yuji, into the world. The moment the doctor placed him in your arms, the chaos of the past hours faded into a serene bliss.

“Look at him!” you gasped, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks as you gazed at the tiny bundle swaddled in soft blankets. Yuji’s little pink face squished up in a way that made your heart swell.

Sukuna leaned over, his expression softening as he peered at your son. “He’s got my hair,” he joked, pointing at the wispy pink strands already sticking up in every direction. “And just look at those muscles!”

You chuckled through your tears, swiping at your cheek with the back of your hand. “You do realize he’s a newborn, right? All babies have ‘muscles’—they’re just fat rolls!”

Sukuna nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah, but those rolls are going to be legendary. Just you wait!”

<^><^>

in another timeline and universe sukuna is a happy man with wife and kid and making dad jokes on the elevator to embarrass tf out of his kids.

[yeonjisstuff]

with toji, there was no common signs of showing affection. his way of showing that he loved you was giving you encouraging smacks to your ass, sloppy kisses before going to bed, and fucking your brains numb. he wasn't a soft or gentle man, he was an assassin, you know they aren't your typical boyfriend material.

especially when toji's pounding you from behind, his fat cock pumping in your tight cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. you hugged your pillow to your chest, back curved in a deep arch, whimpering pathetically each thrust. his bulbous tip grazed your gooey g-spot, his big hands groping the fat of hips in a bruising grip. each thrust was accompained with squleching noises, a creamy white ring at the base of his cock, coating his pubes. he smirked at the sight, at you trembling but meeting his thrusts weakly. you didn't know if you wanted to cum again or run away from this absolute nasty dicking he was putting out. it always started off with one round, then turning to fucking five.

the way he talks to you while fucking wasn't affectionate either. "fuck, doll, take it all, this pussy is mine, yeah?" he grunted, his voice worn from use, throat sore. it'd been maybe four, five? god, you lost count after he ate you out on the kitchen table, which was right after you two cleaned up dinner.

a large hand struck your ass, a startled gasp ripped from your lips, clenching harder around toji's fat shaft, the veins practically glued to your walls, you could feel everything. "i asked a question, doll," he groaned, working his jaw when you tighten around him.

"y-you know the answer!" you mewled, lifting your head, your bleary eyes meeting his sharp ones. a cruel grin curled on his scarred lips, before he slowed his brutal pace to a slower one, causing you to shift and squirm.

"wanna hear you say it." he shrugged, lazily fucking you, his balls tight with more of his thick cum you love to feel flood your hot walls. was it surprising you haven't gotten knocked up now? yes, but this was toji's way of showing affection. giving you exactly what you wanted.

"...yeah, t-this pussy is yours," you whispered, embarassment flooding through you, clashing with the pleasure that was threatening to make you cock drunk.

that cruel grin turned into a brighter one, he leaned forward, slotting his lips to kiss you softly. your eyes fluttered shut, caught off guard by the sweetness in the gesture. his corded arms were holding himself above you, his hips rolling in a faster rhythm now, breaking the kiss, then kissing the flushed apple of your cheek. "good, doll, this dick is yours too, just so ya know." now, that was affection, in toji's eyes.

[yeonjisstuff]

just made rules.. im such a proffessional blogger oh em gee. WHY WAS THAT SO TIME CONSUMING THO LIKE I THINK THAT TOOK ME AN HOUR WTF

i'll make a masterlist when i have more fics teehee

[yeonjisstuff]

✧.* 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰

Any forms of racism, homophobia, xenophobia, islamophobia, ect. ect. is not allowed on my blog.

Hate speech and other shit like that will be ignored and i will block you. you wont get any attention from it, so just don't.

Any sorts of translating or copying is obviously prohibited, and you will be reported and blocked if you do so! just be a decent human being, please. People spend time and effort writing and editing their shit.

I will also block any minors or ageless blogs that interact with my posts. My content is not directed towards minors, and i would like to interact with people who are in my age range. That is my preference, so please respect that.

✧.* 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤

I currently write oneshots and i am thinking abt doing smau's because they look fun! headcanons are also something i do, but i'm not so sure that i'll have the motivation to write series'.

I do not write male reader/amab stuff, purely because its easier for me to write afab/fem reader stuff, especially when it comes to smut.

Also uh, foot stuff. I dont do that, or any other stuff that includes bdsm, scat, incest ect.

I'll probably write stuff including pregnant!reader, but i will not write childbirth.

I will not be writing smut about any characters that are minors, and i won't be aging any minors up for the purpose of it.

✧.* 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰

Right now i only accept jjk and tokyo ghoul requests. I'm not sure about other stuff yet.

If my requests are closed, they are closed, so i will not be answering your requests if you ask in a period of time where they are closed. They will be deleted :)

I am a little slow, so if my reqs are open, and you've sent one, don't worry!! i probably have seen it! Please be patient. Writing takes time, and life gets busy sometimes.

✧.* 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰

Me just shitposting/spamming: #yeonyap✧.*

Answering reqs/confessions: #yeonanswr✧.*

My fics: #yeonwrites✧.*

That's all! thanks for reading <3

divider credits on my pinned!!

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