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@mimikissies
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ℳ. 𝓁𝒾𝓼𝓉 ‧˚꒰🍷💋ྀིྀི ꒱༘‧
mimi. 20. ˚୨୧⋆｡
📂˖˳·˖ ⋆🍒⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 my blog rules:
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18+ toji fushiguro x roommate camgirl!reader
💋ྀིྀི [ SYNOPSIS ] ；living with toji fushiguro means learning not to ask questions. about the late nights, the bruises, the silence. it also means he never asks about you. not about your soft routines, your baking, your quiet smiles… or what you do behind closed doors. but one night, curiosity gets the better of him and the version of you he discovers online is nothing like the “innocent” roommate he thought he knew.
💋ྀིྀི [ CONTENT ] ； suggestive themes, voyeurism, camgirl/streaming dynamics, tension & jealousy, power play undertones, teasing, mild possessiveness, slow burn, explicit sexual content
he always comes home late.
the lock clicks sometime past midnight, soft but deliberate, and you don’t even turn around at first. you’re too busy licking frosting off your thumb, standing barefoot in the kitchen in those stupidly tiny sleep shorts you told yourself you weren’t wearing for attention.
the oven’s still warm. vanilla hangs thick in the air. your playlist hums low from your phone.
“you’re up.” his voice is rougher than usual. that’s what makes you turn.
toji’s leaning against the doorframe like he owns it, like he owns everything he walks into. jacket half-off, hair a mess, eyes heavy and sharp at the same time and then you see it.
“your lip—”
you’re moving before you even think, crossing the kitchen in quick steps, fingers already reaching for his chin.
he lets you touch him. that’s the thing. for someone who acts like he doesn’t need anyone, he never stops you.
your thumb brushes just under his mouth, tilting his face slightly toward the light. it’s a small cut, but fresh. dark red, not fully dried. it makes something in your chest tighten.
“what happened?” you murmur, softer now.
“nothing.”
of course.
you frown, already turning to grab something, paper towel, ice, anything, but his hand catches your wrist, firm, warm, stopping you like it’s nothing.
“said it’s nothing.”
your eyes flick up to his. there’s something there. something tired. something that doesn’t want to be asked about.
you huff quietly, pulling your wrist free. “you’re so annoying.”
“yeah,” he says, like he’s heard it a thousand times. like he doesn’t mind.
you turn back to the counter, trying to ignore the way his presence lingers too close behind you now. like heat. like a shadow that breathes.
“don’t touch that,” you add quickly, pointing your spatula at the cake.
you don’t even need to look to know what he’s eyeing.
“it’s for my stream tomorrow.”
a pause.
you barely have time to react.
his hand moves fast, reaching past you, fingers digging straight into the soft center of the cake like he has no respect for anything holy. he pulls out a huge piece, frosting smearing over his knuckles.
“toji—!”
you spin around, genuinely offended, staring at the damage like he just committed a crime.
“are you serious right now? i needed that!”
he shrugs, already taking a bite, completely unbothered. “make another one.”
you gape at him.
“make another– do you know how long this took me?!”
he chews slowly, eyes on you the entire time.
the way he looks at you is like he’s memorizing something. like he’s enjoying the way you’re worked up, flushed, standing there in barely-there fabric and irritation.
“you’re loud,” he mutters.
“you’re insufferable,” you shoot back.
another bite. slower this time. a smear of frosting catches on his lower lip, right where the cut is, and for a second, your brain short-circuits at the contrast. sweet and metallic. soft and rough.
he notices you staring. of course he does.
his tongue drags lazily over his lip, cleaning it off, and your stomach flips in a way you absolutely refuse to acknowledge.
“stop looking at me like that.”
you blink. “like what?”
“like you’re gonna fix me again.”
you scoff, turning away too quickly. “don’t flatter yourself.”
a beat. then his hand nudges your hip. just enough to move you aside so he can set the plate down. casual. too casual.
“next time,” he says, grabbing his phone from the counter, “hide it better.”
“next time,” you snap, “i’m locking you out.”
he hums like he doesn’t believe you. yeah, he doesn’t.
you hear his footsteps retreat down the hallway, slow, unhurried, like nothing about tonight mattered. like you didn’t matter. your jaw tightens.
the kitchen suddenly feels too quiet. too warm.
you glance back at the cake, ruined in the middle, and then toward the hallway where he disappeared.
a second passes. then another. and for some reason you don’t even know why you wipe your hands on your shorts and pad after him.
his door is half-open.
inside, he’s already sprawled back on his bed, one arm behind his head, phone glowing against his face. scrolling. detached. like he slipped right back into his own world.
you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. “you owe me a cake.”
he doesn’t look up. “put it on my tab.”
you stare at him. “you don’t have a tab.”
“guess i’ll start one.”
your eyes narrow, but there’s a stupidly annoying smile threatening at the corner of your mouth now. ugh, annoying. he’s so annoying.
soon toji’s finally left alone. just another night. another fight he doesn’t care to remember. another ruined cake he definitely doesn’t feel bad about.
toji’s still sprawled on his bed, one arm behind his head, the other lazily scrolling through his phone. something mindless. something to shut his brain off.
his lip still stings a little. he ignores it. thumb flick. flick. flick. then he pauses.
a live notification.
some random account he doesn’t remember following. probably something he clicked on once and forgot about. the thumbnail’s blurry, soft lighting, a figure sitting close to the camera.
he almost scrolls past. almost.
something about it feels… familiar.
he taps it without thinking. and then he freezes. “…what?”
your voice.
soft. playful. a little breathy in that way you never sound around him.
his body goes still before his brain even catches up. the screen sharpens. and it’s you. you. but not the you he knows.
your hair’s half up, messy ponytail slipping loose like you didn’t bother fixing it. glasses perched low on your nose. the lighting is warm, golden, making your skin look softer, glowier. like something meant to be looked at. and what you’re wearing…
it’s barely anything.
low-cut enough that it feels intentional. like you know exactly what it does. what it shows. what it doesn’t.
toji sits up slowly. really slowly. like if he moves too fast, the image will disappear. “…no way.”
chat messages are flying.
your eyes flick across the screen as you read them, smiling to yourself, lips curling in that soft, teasing way he’s never seen before.
it’s not the smile you give him.
this one feels… controlled. aware. performing.
“mm—thank you, baby,” you hum, voice sweet, dragging just enough to make it linger.
his grip tightens around his phone.
baby?
someone sends a bigger tip.
you react instantly, leaning a little closer to the camera, eyes lighting up. “oh? that’s a lot…” you laugh softly, tilting your head. “what do you want?”
toji’s stomach drops. he doesn’t like the way that sounds. doesn’t like it at all.
another message.
you read it. then your smile turns mischievous. “lower?” you echo, like you’re considering it.
a pause.
you lean back slightly in your chair, fingers brushing your collarbone, slow, absent-minded. except it’s not absent at all.
“you guys are bold tonight,” you tease.
toji’s throat feels dry. he doesn’t even realize he’s leaned forward. like he’s being pulled in. like he can’t look away.
“should i?” you continue, voice dipping just a little, playful, dragging it out for them. for whoever’s watching.
for him, even if you don’t know it.
his jaw tightens. his mind is still catching up but his body… his body reacts first.
heat settles low in his stomach, sudden and heavy, sharp enough to make him shift where he sits.
“…tch.”
his brows knit together. annoyed. at himself. at you. at the way this feels.
you laugh again, soft, airy, and adjust slightly, just enough to suggest more without fully giving it.
it’s subtle. but it’s not innocent. not even close. and that’s what hits him the hardest.
because you, you, in oversized hoodies, scolding him over cake, frowning at his injuries like you care too much, this version of you?
she knows exactly what she‘s doing.
“maybe,” you say, dragging the word, “if you’re good.”
the chat explodes.
toji exhales sharply through his nose. something tight coils in his chest. he doesn’t like that either. doesn’t like that it’s not just him watching. doesn’t like that anyone can see you like this.
his thumb moves before he can think. screen off. gone. silence. the room suddenly feels too quiet. too hot.
he stares at the blank screen for a second. then tosses the phone onto the bed beside him like it burned him. “…the hell.”
he runs a hand through his hair, jaw tense. but it doesn’t go away. that image. your breasts practically busting out if your flimsy button up. that breathy voice. the way you looked into the camera like you were looking through it.
his gaze drops. and yeah. that’s… a problem. his cock presses stubbornly against his slacks. “seriously?”
he leans back, exhaling slowly, closing his eyes like that’ll fix anything.
it doesn’t.
if anything, it makes it worse. because now it’s all in his head. your voice. your laugh.
lower?
his jaw tightens again.
he wants to burst into your room and fuck you like the little slut you are. to pull that stupid top off and smash his face between your heavenly looking tits.
“…fuck me.”
he tries to ignore it. he really does. a full minute passes. maybe two.
he throws one arm over his eyes like he can suffocate the image out of his head.
it doesn’t work. it only gets worse. because now it’s not just what he saw. it’s what he imagines you doing next.
“what am i doing?”
a sharp exhale. annoyed. restless. wired in a way he doesn’t like. his hand drags down his face, slow, before he turns his head toward the phone lying beside him.
silent. waiting. like it knows.
“…just checking,” he mutters, already reaching for it. “nothing else.”
yeah. sure.
the screen lights up again, and before he can think twice he opens the stream. and there you are. still there.
still glowing under that warm light like nothing changed. like you didn’t just flip his entire perception of you upside down.
your hair’s fallen looser now, strands slipping out of the ponytail, framing your face softer. your glasses are slightly crooked, like you’ve been adjusting them without thinking.
you look… comfortable. too comfortable.
“you guys are being so needy tonight,” you laugh lightly, leaning back in your chair, stretching just a little so your top riddles up, exposing a glimpse of your bra underneath. except you‘re not wearing a bra.
you exposed with no shame the curve of your breast like it’s nothing. like toji‘s eyes aren’t practically glued to his little screen, cock twitching and throbbing for you.
chat is still flying. names. numbers. requests. too many.
his grip tightens around his phone again. something in his chest twists—low, unfamiliar, territorial in a way he doesn’t care to examine.
“mm—okay, okay,” you murmur, glancing down at the screen, lips curving. “i see you.”
another donation pops up. big. your eyes light up instantly. “oh wow.” your voice softens, sweetens, just for that moment.
toji doesn’t like that either. “…fucker.”
his thumb hovers for half a second. then he taps. creates a new account in seconds, careless, quick. bigguy1. he doesn’t even think about the name. it just comes. and then–
donation sent.
your reaction is immediate. of course it is. your lips part slightly, a soft breath leaving you before you smile again, slower this time.
“bigguy…?” you repeat, amused. “that’s… confident for a newbie.”
toji leans forward without realizing it. watching. waiting. another message appears from a different user—
kunaboss: don’t listen to him. you were about to do something for me.
your eyes flick across the chat, catching it. you laugh. “seems like you two already fighting over me?”
something in toji’s chest snaps tighter. he doesn’t even register why. another tap.
donation sent.
bigger this time.
your expression shifts again. just a flicker, but he catches it. interest. attention. drawn back.
“mm… bigguy again,” you hum softly, tilting your head. “tell me baby, what is it that you want?”
he exhales slowly. this is stupid. this is so stupid. he should just walk over to your room.
and yet his thumbs move anyway.
bigguy1: show me how much you can give
he doesn’t overthink it. doesn’t need to.
your eyes scan the message. pause. then something changes. your smile softens. less playful, more knowing.
“how much i can give…?” you echo, quieter now.
toji’s pulse kicks.
you shift in your seat. slow. deliberate. fingers drifting to the top button of your shirt. just resting there. not moving yet. just enough to make it obvious.
“you’re asking for a lot you know. might need another donation for confidence,” you murmur, almost like you’re thinking out loud.
chat explodes again.
kunaboss: don’t tease. just do it.
toji’s jaw tightens. another donation. he doesn’t even hesitate this time.
your breath catches. barely, but it’s there. real.
“bigguy…” you say again, softer, like you’re tasting the name. "hmm. might wanna tell me your real name so i can use it.“
and then click. the first button slips open.
toji’s grip on the phone tightens instantly. his body reacts before his mind can even catch up again. heat flaring, sharp, immediate.
your collar shifts slightly, revealing more skin, smooth and warm under the light. the valley between your breasts shimmer golden. it’s your body glitter. toji knows that. seen it often enough in the shower.
you don’t rush it. you drag it out.
fingers brushing absent-mindedly along your collarbone, tracing slow, lazy patterns like you’re not fully aware of it. like it’s just natural.
“is this enough?” you tease lightly.
it’s not. and you know it. another button. slower this time. the fabric parts more. your nipples peaked. damp spot forming on your panties, thighs rubbing slowly together for friction.
toji exhales through his nose, low and controlled, but it does nothing to steady the way his chest feels tighter now.
he leans forward again. closer. like he’s trying to get into the screen.
“greedy,” you murmur, reading the chat again, lips curving. “all of you.”
your fingers drift lower. not far. just enough. resting.
pressing lightly against your chest through the thin fabric, like you’re testing the reaction. like you know what it does. and the sound you let out. soft. barely there. but it hits harder than anything else.
toji’s head dips slightly, eyes narrowing. “shit roomie. little tease got me all worked up like i‘ve never seen woman skin.” his voice is rough now. low.
he doesn’t even realize he said it out loud.
your gaze lifts, straight into the camera. and for a second it feels like you’re looking right at him.
“you like that, bigguy?” you ask softly, voice dipping just enough to make it dangerous.
his pulse spikes. fast. hard. he swallows, throat dry. his thumbs hover again but this time, he doesn’t type.
doesn’t need to. because you’re already watching. already reacting. already giving. and it’s like something in him gives in too. he doesn’t even think.
his hand moves to pull him out, wrapping around his aching cock. slow at first, then matching the same unbearable rhythm he’s watching on screen, like his body has decided it knows better than his mind.
like it’s syncing with you.
on the other side of the wall, there’s only distance. thin. meaningless. he hates it. because he can hear you anyway. not clearly. not fully.
just fragments. your voice breaking slightly between words, the soft attempt to swallow your moans back to not alarm him, the way your breath catches like you’re trying to stay composed and failing in the smallest, most obvious ways.
and it’s that part that gets him. not what he sees. what he fills in.
his jaw twitches. his grip on his phone shifts.
on screen, your arm moves lower in slow hesitation, like you’re deciding something you shouldn’t be deciding in real time, like you’re teasing even when you don’t mean to be.
you bite your lip as your hand cups your dripping heat, eyes trained on the suspiciously quiet chat.
your expression changes with it. subtle at first. then less controlled.
your brows pinch slightly. your lips part like you’re trying to speak but think better of it. like the performance is slipping just enough to become real.
and toji stops thinking in words. just sound. sensation. pressure building too fast, too messy, too annoying because he can’t look away even when he knows he should. he bites his own lip, low grunt still escaping his throat.
he hears you again. thin wall doing nothing to hide the fact that you are masturbating in the room right next to him.
a small, broken attempt at a laugh that doesn’t fully land. then silence. then a breath that doesn’t sound steady at all.
and through the wall he catches the faintest sound of you reacting like you forgot you were being watched by anyone at all.
his eyes shut for half a second.
“...shit,” he mutters under his breath, like it’s your fault. like it isn’t his hand that’s moved faster. tracing his veins. teasing his pre-cum leaking slit. squeezing the thick base.
your breath breaks into something heavier, something uncontrolled and real enough that it stops being performance entirely. he can hear the wet sounds of your fingers pumping your pussy.
his own plap! plap! as his hand moves almost aggressively, slamming down all down to his seized up balls with each slide.
and he exhales at the exact same moment, sharp and silent, like something in him finally snaps into place and refuses to hold anymore.
he lets go, eyes glued to your cute face. your eyes shut. lips sucked in so hard you drew blood. brows pinched. hand desperately moving as you cum, a whine leaving your pretty lips. "tojiii!"
his hand closes around his cock, fisting obelast time as he shoots hot cum onto his stomach. "ah, ah– fuck.“
for a second after, everything goes still. even the wall feels quiet. and that is when it hits him. did you just say his name? or did his clouded mind play tricks on him?
on screen, your shoulders drop slightly, like the tension just drained out of you all at once. you lean back, head tilting just a little, chest rising unevenly as you try to recover your breath.
a long pause. then a soft, unguarded exhale. heavy. honest. completely unfiltered.
like you forgot the camera existed. toji stares at the screen. doesn’t move. doesn’t blink.
his cock twitches in his hand, begging for more. begging to be buried inside you, begging to hear your moans with no restrain. seems like he really needs to teach you a lesson…
hi!! it’s completely okay if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to🫶🏻
but if you’re willing, would you be open to doing nanami coming home to his stay at home wife and cat after a long day??
husband!namami x stay at home wife!reader
nanami doesn’t realize how tired he is until he opens the door.
the hallway light spills into the apartment, warm and golden, and he’s still halfway in work-mode; shoulders tight, jaw set, mind calculating tomorrow before today has even ended.
then he hears it.
a small, offended “mrrrp?” from the living room.
and your voice.
“ken?”
everything in him softens at once.
he closes the door quietly, toes out of his shoes, and before he can even properly step inside, the cat is weaving around his ankles like he’s been personally abandoned for centuries.
“yes, yes, i’m home,” he mutters, bending slightly to scratch under its chin. “i apologize for my unforgivable absence.”
from the couch, you laugh. that soft, airy laugh that always hits him right in the sternum.
he looks up. and there you are.
curled under a blanket, one of his old button-downs slipping off your shoulder, hair a little messy, the cat’s favorite throw pillow tucked behind your back. there’s a lamp on beside you and the whole room smells faintly like whatever you cooked earlier — something warm and comforting.
home. his home.
“welcome back,” you say gently, pushing yourself up and padding over to him.
nanami doesn’t even realize he’s staring until you reach up and fix his tie. your fingers are slow, careful, like you’re undoing the weight of the day instead of fabric.
“long day?” you murmur.
he exhales through his nose. “as they tend to be.”
you hum sympathetically, smoothing down the crease between his brows with your thumb. he didn’t even know it was there.
“i made your favorite,” you add softly. “and i kept it warm.”
something in his chest pulls tight. you didn’t have to. you never have to. but you always do.
the cat jumps onto the entryway table and meows loudly like it’s filing a complaint about being ignored, and you giggle, scooping it up.
“he missed you,” you say. “sat by the door around six.”
nanami’s hand comes up automatically to stroke the cat’s back, but his eyes never leave you.
“and you?” he asks quietly.
you blink. “what about me?”
“did you miss me?”
your smile changes. softer now. more vulnerable.
“always.”
it’s such a simple word but it lands heavy.
nanami steps forward then, closing the small space between you, one hand sliding around your waist. the other cups the back of your head, careful, reverent, like you’re something fragile and sacred.
he presses his forehead to yours. for a long moment, neither of you speak. he just breathes you in.
the faint scent of your shampoo. the fabric softener from his shirt on your skin. the warmth of your body against his after a day of cold offices and colder expectations.
“thank you,” he murmurs.
you frown lightly. “for what?”
“for being here.”
your arms slide around his middle, cheek pressing to his chest. you feel the steady thump of his heart under your ear, a rhythm you’ve memorized without trying.
“there’s nowhere else i’d rather be,” you whisper.
after dinner, which he insists on helping clean up even though you try to shoo him away, the three of you end up on the couch. the cat sprawled shamelessly across nanami’s lap like it pays rent. you tucked into his side, legs tangled with his, your head resting on his shoulder.
his arm wraps around you automatically. his thumb traces slow, absentminded patterns over your sleeve.
“did you do anything interesting today?” he asks.
you light up immediately, telling him about the new plant you repotted, the neighbor who waved at you from the balcony, the way the cat knocked over a glass and then acted like it was your fault.
he listens.
not distracted. not half there. he listens like your words matter more than anything else in the world.
and maybe they do.
at some point your voice gets softer. your body heavier against him. the cat’s purring fills the quiet room.
nanami looks down and realizes you’ve fallen asleep mid-sentence.
his expression changes in that subtle way it always does around you; less guarded. more human.
he adjusts the blanket over you carefully, making sure your feet are tucked in. presses the softest kiss to your hairline.
“goodnight, darling,” he whispers.
the cat blinks up at him lazily.
nanami leans back into the couch, finally allowing his own exhaustion to settle, but it doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.
because he’s home. and you’re here. and the world outside can wait until morning.
a/n if you’re reading this, i hope you find a love that feels like coming home too ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১
18+ toji fushiguro‘s poor bunny hybrid has her first heat !
you’d been avoiding him for two days now.
toji wasn’t stupid. he noticed everything.
the way you stopped lingering in doorways when he spoke to you. the way you’d dart out of rooms the second his shadow stretched too close. the way your ears, normally soft and relaxed, kept flattening against your hair the moment his eyes landed on you.
you didn’t sit on the couch anymore. didn’t curl up in your usual corner of the kitchen when he cooked. didn’t even let your tail peek out the way it always did when you felt safe.
and maybe the worst part: you wouldn’t look at him.
not once.
every time he tried, every time he got close enough to touch, you’d shrink back like he was made of fire.
he told himself it didn’t bother him. he told himself that. over and over and over.
but every hour it just got heavier inside his chest. that strange, irritated ache he didn’t know how to name. like he was being pushed out of his own home. like his presence was suddenly something you had to hide from.
you were quiet by nature, sure. timid. soft. but this wasn’t shy. this was scared. this was frantic. you moved like a cornered creature trying not to tremble.
and every time you flinched away, something mean and frustrated twisted through him. something he didn’t have the patience to untangle.
the worst was that last moment, when he walked into the hallway and you nearly ran into him.
you froze.
he watched your throat bob, watched your breath stutter, watched your little hands tug at the sleeves of your hoodie like you wanted to disappear inside it.
your eyes went wide, then dropped instantly to the floor, refusal sharp enough to sting. and for the first time in a very, very long time…
toji felt unsure.
“what’s with you?” he muttered, voice rougher than he meant. “did i do something? you gonna keep runnin’ from me for no damn reason?”
you shook your head so fast your ears bounced, but the rest of you stayed rigid, shaking, like you were holding yourself together through sheer force.
he tried again, slower. quieter.
“c’mere. look at me.”
but you only stepped back. then another step. and another. like you were afraid his voice alone could pull you in.
your scent was different. sharper, sweeter, confusingly warm. but he didn’t understand it, didn’t know what it meant.
he only knew it made something restless crawl under his skin, like he was missing a detail right in front of him.
and then you whispered, barely audible:
“i’m sorry.”
like you had done something wrong.
like he had something to forgive you for.
toji stood there long after you hurried away again, jaw clenched, hands flexing uselessly at his sides.
he wasn’t used to feeling powerless. not in battle. not in life. but this, this tiny, trembling distance between you, it was the first thing in years he couldn’t seem to get a grip on.
and it was driving him insane.
the next morning, toji finally caught it!
the thing that’d been bothering him, scratching at the back of his mind every time you slipped away from him like smoke.
your scent was stronger today.
not just sweet. overwhelming. warm. dizzying. like honey melting too close to fire.
and when you passed him in the kitchen, trying so desperately to be invisible, he saw it in the way your thighs pressed together. the way your tail twitched, restless and betraying you. the way your breath caught when his arm brushed yours, just barely.
he exhaled a slow, amused breath.
“ah,” he murmured, corner of his mouth ticking up. “so that’s what this is.”
your ears shot straight up, then flattened immediately. your whole body went stiff, trembling faintly beneath your oversized shirt. you wouldn’t look at him. not even for a second.
“my little bunny’s in heat, huh?”
you let out the tiniest sound, a whimper almost, and your eyes glossed over with instant frustration, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.
“n-no— i’m not— i’m fine,” you breathed, voice fragile and trembling like glass.
toji stepped closer.
you stepped back.
he stepped again.
you hit the counter at your lower back, body curling inward as if that would hide you from him.
“you’ve been avoidin’ me for days over somethin’ like this?” he asked, voice low, teasing, but softened around the edges. “all that runnin’ around… all that hidin’… just ‘cause you’re a little aroused?”
your throat bobbed. hands balled into fists in your sleeves.
and then the frustration broke. your eyes shimmered, your lip trembled, and you shook your head helplessly.
“i… i didn’t want you to think i’m weird…” you whispered. “or annoying. or… or needy.”
it hit him harder than he expected. that tiny, wounded confession.
toji’s teasing melted into something deeper. he dipped his head, brushing his nose against your cheek. you startled, but didn’t pull away.
“bunny,” he murmured against your skin, voice warm enough to melt bone, “there’s nothin’ weird about you. and you couldn’t annoy me if you tried.”
your breath shuddered. your ears twitched. you were softening, just a little, but still so tense it made his chest ache.
he brought a hand up, fingers brushing your jaw with a gentleness that contrasted everything he usually was. his thumb skimmed the corner of your lips, slow enough to make your knees weaken.
“you get shy, yeah,” he said, lips ghosting over your cheek, “but you don’t gotta hide from me.”
your eyes fluttered shut automatically.
toji smirked. not mean, just knowing. then pressed another kiss just beneath your ear. your breath hitched. your tail trembled.
“see? look how easy you melt,” he murmured. “just needed me to touch you a little, hm?”
you made a small, frustrated sound. somewhere between a whine and a breath of relief, and your shoulders slumped like you’d been fighting yourself too long.
“toji…” you whispered, voice breaking with how overwhelmed you were.
he kissed the corner of your mouth, barely there. a promise, not a demand.
“i know, baby,” he said softly. “i know. you’re all worked up and you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
his hand slid down, resting at your hip, warm, grounding, and you leaned into him without thinking, your body acting on instinct before your shyness could catch up.
your frustration bubbled again, eyes squeezing shut as you hid your face in his chest.
“i didn’t want you to see me like this…” you whispered, muffled, ears drooping.
toji huffed a quiet laugh, stroking your back slow, soothing.
“i see you just fine,” he said. “and i’m not goin’ anywhere.”
he lifted your chin gently, coaxing you to look up. not forcing, just guiding until your eyes finally, reluctantly met his.
“that’s it,” he whispered. “there’s my girl.”
you swallowed, breath shaking.
his thumb brushed your lower lip again, slower this time. your lashes fluttered.
“we’ll take it slow,” he murmured. “i’ll get you through it. just let me?“
he kissed you, soft, unhurried, coaxing, and everything inside you finally loosened, your body melting against his, your fingers curling weakly into his shirt as if you’d been holding on alone for too long.
he smiled against your lips.
“good little bunny.”
you didn’t even realize you were trembling until toji’s hands steadied your hips. not pulling you in, just keeping you from swaying on unsteady legs.
your heat definitely wasn’t subtle anymore.
your skin felt too warm, prickling like you were wrapped in a blanket you couldn’t shrug off. your breath kept catching in your throat, coming in tiny, shaky puffs you couldn’t control. your heart fluttered wildly, fast and uneven, like a trapped bird desperate to escape your chest.
and every instinct inside you was a mess, tugging you in two directions at once.
one part of you wanted to hide, small and embarrassed, the way prey shelters in tight corners where they feel safe.
the other wanted closeness. warmth. his touch.
you couldn’t tell which impulse was stronger. they both hurt.
toji noticed it all.
the way your thighs pressed together like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. the way your fingers curled and uncurled like you didn’t know what to hold onto. the way your ears kept twitching; high, then low, then flat. confused, overwhelmed, overstimulated by feelings you’d never experienced.
“hey,” toji murmured, one hand sliding up your back in slow, steady strokes. “breathe for me.”
you tried.
you really did.
but the moment his voice dipped warm like that, your breath just hitched again, caught somewhere deep and desperate. you looked up at him with glossy eyes, cheeks flushed, a little dazed.
it made something in his expression soften even further.
“first heat, huh?” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
you bit your lip, shame blooming hot behind your ribs.
“i don’t… i don’t know what i’m supposed to do,” you whispered, voice trembling. “my body feels… weird. everything feels too much.”
toji hummed low in his chest, leaning down just enough that his forehead touched yours.
“that’s normal,” he said. “your body’s tryin’ to figure itself out. instincts goin’ wild, yeah?”
you nodded helplessly.
it wasn’t just warmth though.
it was a pull, constant and confusing, like gravity tugging at you from inside your bones. your stomach fluttered uncontrollably. your knees felt unstable. your senses were sharp in places and hazy in others.
his scent grounding, his presence calming, the world around you too bright, too loud, too much.
“it’s embarrassing,“ you whispered, eyes dropping. “i don’t want you to see me like this.”
“i’m glad i’m the one who does,” toji replied softly.
before you could hide again, he cupped your cheek gently, guiding you to meet his eyes.
“listen,” he said, nothing sharp or teasing now. “there’s nothin’ wrong with what you’re feelin’. your body’s just overwhelmed. doesn’t know where to put all that heat, yeah? you don’t gotta be scared of it,” he went on. “or of me.”
his thumb brushed your cheekbone, feather-light.
“i’m right here. i’ll guide you through every part of it. slowly.”
your eyes softened, lashes damp.
“but i don’t know anything,” you whispered. “i’m not experienced.”
“good,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his breath warmed your ear. “means you’ll listen when i tell you what’s happening. what you need. what helps.”
your throat tightened at his closeness, heat rolling through your lower abdomen in a way that made your legs shift restlessly.
you hated how obvious it was. how your body responded before you could think.
but toji only smiled, gentle and warm.
“you’re doin’ so good,” he whispered. “lettin’ me hold you like this.”
his hand slid down to rest on your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your shirt, guiding your frantic body back into something softer.
your shoulders loosened without you meaning to. your ears drooped slightly, not in fear this time, but in relief.
“that’s it,” he murmured. “just lean. let the heat settle.”
you did.
because you couldn’t stand on your own anymore. because your instincts weren’t fighting him now. they were reaching for him. pulling you gently toward where you felt safest.
and toji took that responsibility carefully, holding you like something precious, something delicate enough to crush but cherished enough to protect.
your voice was barely a breath when you whispered:
“toji… please don’t leave me.”
he exhaled softly, brushing a kiss to your forehead.
“i’m not goin’ anywhere, bunny.”
he then guided you backward with slow, steady steps.
“easy, bunny,” he murmured, his lips brushing the words against your cheek. “just follow me.”
your fingers curled weakly into his shirt as you let him lead you toward the couch. your legs felt strange, too light, too wobbly, every step sending little sparks of warmth through your stomach.
when the back of your knees hit the couch, you gasped softly. toji kept a hand on your waist, steadying you when you swayed.
then he dipped down, kissing you again.
slow. warm. wet.
the kind of kiss that made your breath stutter and your ears droop helplessly. his mouth moved against yours with a patience that made your knees weaken, like he was teaching you how to breathe through the intensity.
“good girl,” he murmured, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “look at how soft you get.”
your chest fluttered. your hands clutched his shirt tighter, instinct pulling you impossibly closer.
and then his kisses trailed. down your cheek. along your jaw. feather-soft at first, then lingering. warm breath ghosting over your skin, making you shiver so hard your tail twitched.
“s-sensitive…” you breathed, voice cracking.
“i know,” he whispered, lips against the curve of your neck.
he kissed there, slow and deliberate, each press of his mouth sending a wave of warmth down your spine. you made a tiny sound. not quite a whine, not quite a gasp, as your head tipped back without you even thinking, offering more.
toji hummed approvingly against your throat.
“see?” he murmured. “your body knows what it wants. just needs some guidance.”
your fingers trembled as they found your way to his shoulders, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a world made suddenly too bright and too warm.
he nudged you gently to sit, his hands never leaving your hips, grounding you. when you sank onto the couch, your breath hitched.
the shift in position sent a rush of arousal through you so intense you had to squeeze your eyes shut. you could feel your own slick on your panties, sticking uncomfortably against your pussy.
toji’s gaze softened.
“overwhelmed?” he asked quietly.
you nodded, cheeks burning, ears folding down in embarrassment.
“everything feels too much,” you whispered.
he leaned over you, bracing one hand beside your head, the other cupping the back of your neck so gently it made your chest ache.
“i‘ll help you through it.“
he slid closer. not pressing into you, not demanding anything. just offering his presence, his warmth, the solid weight of his body near yours.
your breath shook.
his thigh brushed yours.
not where you needed him, just close enough to make your whole body tighten with instinctive want, close enough that your breath hitched in your throat again.
toji smirked softly, but his touch stayed gentle, slow, careful.
“look at that,” he murmured, thumb brushing your jaw as he kissed your cheek again. “my little bunny really is burning up.”
a small, frustrated sound escaped you, half whimper, half plea, as your hands clutched at him. you didn’t know what you wanted.
you only knew you wanted him. near you. holding you. grounding the ache that pulsed through your body like a second heartbeat.
and oh did he take good care of you.
"t-toji, yes, aa-ah right there. mmh, harder, please.“
but toji is a menace. he pulls his cock out with just his tip remaining in your little fluttering hole.
you whimper, eyes locking on his. your tail thumps against the couch. frustrated. built up.
"nooo,“ you whine, grabbing his hips and trying to push him in deeper. but toji is big and strong. and he refuses to move.
you huff, pussy clenching desperately around him.
"heh, someone’s getting bold. go on, little one. use me. i‘m right here to make your poor drooling cunt stop crying.“
you let your instincts take over. with surprising strength you push him on his back, your slick thighs straddling him.
you sink down on his cock, chest rising and falling too fast, ears twitching like they have a mind of their own. your little tail flicks behind you every time you move, betraying how flustered you are, and somehow it makes you feel proud. you did this. you took all nine inches in. you made him react.
"look at, hah, you. my sweet bunny taking my cock so well.“
toji exhales, slow and low, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. his hand slides to your hip, steadying you, guiding you. the tiniest movement, just a nudge, and your body follows almost without thinking.
your ears twitch. your tail flicks. your breath stutters. every instinct you have is screaming at you to hide, but another part of you is daring, curious, desperate to keep moving.
“hey.” his voice is low, warm, patient, and it makes your stomach clench. “that’s it. keep going just like that.”
you bite your lip, trying to control yourself, but it’s impossible. your hands curl into his shoulders, clutching him for support, and you realize how much you want this guidance, how much you need it.
your chest rises and falls faster, heart pounding, ears flattening then flicking back up, and the little flick of your tail.
he notices it, and the way he looks at you makes your heat pulse hotter, pussy throbbing.
“my cute little bunny,” he murmurs, eyes darkening, voice dropping in that way that makes your knees wobble. “look at you moving like that.”
you flush, ears drooping, tail brushing against the couch, and still you move. slow. careful. timid. proud. every little twitch and shiver is yours, and yet it makes him melt like you’ve got some kind of magic.
his hands keep guiding you. one on your hip, one brushing your back. your movements become smoother, more confident, even as your body trembles. your ears flick nervously, your tail twitches shyly, but there’s fire behind it, a little spark that says: yes, i’m doing this. yes, i’m making him feel this.
“thaaaat‘s it, bunny,” he whispers, soft now, gentle, completely patient. “look at you doing so well."
and you can’t help the moan that escapes, not shy anymore. ears trembling, tail flicking, body humming with sensation. you’ve never felt anything like this. and he’s right there with you.
every instinct in your bunny body is awake, alive. shivering, twitching, flustered, but somehow it’s cute. somehow it’s irresistible. somehow he’s totally undone.
“fucking good girl…” he murmurs again, and your chest swells. ears droop slightly in embarrassment, tail flicking in excitement.
you can feel it building. a fire in your chest, a pulsing heat in your stomach that won’t let you think straight. your little ears twitch, your tail flicks uncontrollably, and every nerve in your body is screaming for more. more movement, more motion, more more more.
toji’s hand is still on your hip, trying to steady you, trying to slow you down.
“bunny, ah-, slow—” he murmurs, voice low and rough, but you barely hear him.
your body doesn’t care. your instincts have taken over. you start moving faster, all careful pride and flustered determination gone, replaced with something wild, impulsive, and overwhelming. your ears flatten against your head, tail thrashing lightly, breath stuttering.
he grits his teeth, eyes dark, but he doesn’t stop guiding. he keeps his hands on your hips, steadying just enough so you don’t fall, even as your movements accelerate past his pleading.
“you’re… already… damn it…” he growls, voice rough, but there’s a soft edge in the way he exhales against your hair. he’s mesmerized by how your body moves, how your instincts are taking over, how every little twitch makes you more alive.
sweat prickles at the nape of your neck, at your back, sliding down your sides, and your ears twitch and droop with every overwhelming sensation. your tail flicks frantically, betraying every pulse, every shiver.
“look at you,” he murmurs, tone softening now, fascinated and breathless. “cock is so good, you can’t even slow down, huh?”
you can’t respond. your breath comes in little shuddering gasps, movements fast and desperate, too much, too good, too overwhelming. you’re barely holding onto control, ears flat, tail flicking, cheeks burning, and your chest is rising and falling faster than you can manage.
toji’s voice drops, a mix of awe and restraint:
“fuuuck- you’re incredible… just… hang on, bunny…”
your instincts don’t care. the heat is too strong. your body pushes forward, twitching.
the world narrows to the pounding of your heartbeat, the warmth coursing through your body, the way his hands guide and steady you just enough.
and soon you both teeter on the edge, every nerve on fire, sweat sliding over skin, breaths coming fast.
the room charged with heat and tension, just moments away from breaking over into something neither of you has ever felt before.
your body shakes uncontrollably, heat pulsing through every nerve. ears drooping, tail flicking frantically, chest rising and falling faster than your thoughts can keep up with. every instinct screaming that you can’t get enough.
toji’s hands are still on you, steady, grounding you as his own breaths come in heavy, ragged bursts. his voice is low, rough, and half-lost in the tension of the moment:
“you’re… so damn good, bunny…”
your ears twitch and flop helplessly, tail thumping like a drum, shivering all over. you can barely focus, every nerve in your body alive, every instinct focused on him, on warmth, on the rush of everything overwhelming you at once.
he murmurs your name softly, voice thick, low, grounding, as he presses you close. the heat of your bodies together makes you tremble uncontrollably, and your breath hitches in short, desperate bursts.
"gonna cum for me like the sweet bunny you are?” he rasps, thumb brushing along your jaw as he keeps you from tipping too far into your own flustered instincts. "gonna drown me in your sweet juice?“
you whimper, ears flattening, tail thumping faster, clinging to him without thinking. fire spreads through your chest and belly, spreading to your limbs.
"mmmh, cumming. t-toji, i‘m ngh cumming.“
taking care of tired and overworked toji fushiguro
toji came home so quietly you almost didn’t hear the door.
he normally has this heavy, impossible-to-ignore presence. boots thudding, keys clattering, that exhausted sigh he always lets out as soon as he’s inside. but tonight it’s different. tonight he moves like someone carrying the whole world on his shoulders.
you peek out from the bedroom, and he’s just standing there in the entryway, head bowed, hair messy, clothes torn in a few places, and you swear he looks a little lost. like the weight of the day didn’t just drain him. it hollowed him out.
“ji?” your voice is soft.
his head lifts immediately.
and god. the look in his eyes. tired. worn. dull around the edges. but they brighten the second he sees you, like your face flips a switch inside him he can’t control.
“hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, but it barely sounds like him. like he’s speaking through layers of exhaustion.
you walk to him slowly, gently, as if he might break if you’re too sudden. he doesn’t move. he just watches you with that same tired, aching softness.
you touch his cheek. he closes his eyes. not dramatically. just like he’s finally safe enough to let himself rest for two seconds.
“rough day?” you whisper.
a humorless huff leaves him. “somethin’ like that.”
you slide your fingers down to his hand and tug. “come on. let me take care of you.”
he doesn’t protest. he just follows, heavy steps dragging, shoulders sagging. you guide him to the bathroom, sit him on the edge of the tub, and start filling it with warm water.
toji watches you with that same unreadable expression. the one he gets only when you’re soft with him. like he doesn’t understand how someone could be gentle to him without wanting something in return.
you kneel in front of him and start undoing the buckles on his gear. he doesn’t stop you. doesn’t tease you. doesn’t say anything. his hands just fall limply onto his thighs.
you help him out of his shirt, peeling it off his tired arms. his muscles, usually firm and held tight with tension, look different tonight. heavier, weighed down, almost trembling from fatigue.
he whispers your name. not loud. not needy. just a soft, quiet thing that sounds like gratitude.
“i’m here,” you tell him, brushing your thumb over a scar on his shoulder. “always.”
when the bath is ready, he sinks into it with a low groan. the kind that vibrates all the way through his chest. you sit behind him on a little stool and start washing his hair, fingers massaging gently into his scalp.
toji actually leans back into your hands. fully. trusting you with the vulnerable parts of him.
“feels good…” he mutters, voice so low it nearly melts into the steam. “real good.”
you run warm water over his hair, letting it cascade down his neck and shoulders. every time your fingers drag through his hair, he exhales, long and shaky, like he’s releasing tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding onto for years.
you soap his shoulders next, slow and delicate, tracing along every scar, every knot of muscle. he shivers a little when your palms spread over his chest.
“you don’t gotta do all this,” he murmurs, but it’s weak. like he’s saying it because he thinks he should, not because he wants you to stop.
“i want to,” you whisper. “let me.”
his breath stutters. not from the water. not from the steam. from the softness.
you rinse him, cupping warm water in your hands and pouring it over him again and again. toji’s eyes flutter shut. he looks peaceful in a way he never lets anyone see. entirely undone by simple gentle touch.
after a while, he leans forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging.
“no one’s ever-” he pauses, voice rough. “-taken care of me like this.”
your heart aches. you press a kiss to the back of his shoulder.
“get used to it,” you tell him softly. “you deserve it.”
he freezes. then he turns his head just enough to look at you, eyes glassy in the candlelight.
“i really fuckin’ love you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. as if the words physically hurt him but he needs you to know.
your hands slide around him from behind, hugging him gently as warm water ripples around his skin.
“i love you too,” you murmur into his hair, fingers combing through it again. “let me keep loving you.”
toji breathes out, slow, shaky, surrendering, and for the first time all night, the weight on his shoulders finally slips into the water and disappears. and he lets you carry the rest.
kisses with toji beneath the milky twilight ⊹ ࣪ ˖
the night feels like it’s holding its breath.
the air is warm, soft against your skin, carrying the scent of grass and something sweet that you can’t quite name. fireflies blink lazily in the green stretch behind your house, tiny sparks floating in the dark, as if the universe sprinkled stars too close to the ground.
you’re barefoot. toes brushing the cool grass, dress fluttering around your knees like a secret. it’s soft, baby-pink, and you feel pretty in it. pretty enough that your heart stumbles when you see toji coming toward you.
he’s got that look.
that stupid cocky smirk he wears like it’s second nature, like he knows exactly what he does to you. hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, black shirt hugging his flexing muscles in all the ways that make you shy.
“what?” you mumble, cheeks warming under his stare.
he tilts his head, eyes dragging from your lips to your dress to the way you’re nervously twisting your fingers in the fabric.
“nothin’,” he says, voice low, lazy, “just didn’t know you planned on knockin’ the wind outta me tonight.”
you flush harder. “toji!“
he steps closer, his presence warm, overwhelming in the best way. his fingers brush your waist lightly, enough to send sparks up your spine.
“c’mon,” he murmurs, “let me see you.”
you look up at him, the moon soft and pale above you, like it’s peeking through the clouds just to catch a glimpse of the two of you.
he lifts your chin with a single finger.
“you’re somethin’ else,” he whispers, and there’s a softness in his voice he’d deny if you ever called him out on it.
you swallow. “dance with me?”
toji raises an eyebrow, amused. “there’s no music, sweetheart.”
you reach for his hand anyway.
“then let’s pretend.”
his lips twitch. nevertheless he gives you his hand.
and when you pull him toward the grass, he lets himself be led. toji fushiguro, the man who bows for no one, moving wherever you guide him like you hung the moon he’s standing under.
you place his hands on your waist. gently. shyly. and he huffs a laugh, warm air brushing the top of your head.
“sweetheart,” he mutters, “you’re killin’ me.”
you smile, leaning in until your forehead rests against his chest. he sways with you, slow and unpracticed, as if the movement was hidden inside his bones this whole time.
fireflies drift around you. the grass whispers under your feet. and suddenly it doesn’t matter that there’s no music, because the night itself hums for you.
“strike up the band,” you whisper, eyes closed.
“what band?” he asks, voice softening without him meaning to.
“the fireflies.”
he snorts, but his grip on your waist tightens slightly.
“you’re too cute,” he grumbles, as if the words annoy him. “gonna give me a damn heart attack.”
you tilt your head up, moonlight catching your eyelashes. “kiss me.”
he freezes for half a second. just one. because god, you don’t even know what you do to him when you ask like that.
“yeah?” he breathes.
“mhm.” you lift your open hand, fingers brushing his jaw, guiding him down. “under the moon.”
he kisses you like he waited lifetimes. slow. deep. a little desperate.
fireflies spin around you like stars shaken loose, the ground warm beneath your feet, and the entire night seems to fold in on itself, wrapping the two of you in its quiet, endless softness.
toji pulls back just enough to look at you. really look.
his thumb sweeps your lower lip. “you’re gonna ruin me,” he whispers, half-laugh, half-confession.
you smile, cheeks warm, heart full. “good.”
he laughs and pulls you closer, his forehead pressing to yours.
“alright then,” he murmurs, voice a promise shaped like a sigh, “ruin me all you want.”
you kiss him again. beneath the moon. beside the green, green grass. with fireflies dancing and the whole world humming for the two of you.
broken promises with kento nanami ˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
you used to think love was supposed to feel loud.
fireworks. chaos. anxiety that felt like passion.
then there was nanami.
and everything got quiet.
not the awkward kind. not the kind where you’re scared the other person is pulling away. the kind where your thoughts finally stop tripping over each other. the kind where your shoulders drop without you realizing they were tense your whole life.
he was consistent in a way that almost confused you at first.
he called when he said he would. showed up when he promised. stayed even when you were tired, snappy, too much. his actions never chased his words; they walked right beside them.
and slowly, without warning, your brain stopped screaming.
you remember lying next to him one night, staring at the ceiling, realizing you hadn’t overthought anything in hours. your inner child, the scared, aching part of you, whispered so quietly it almost scared you.
can we stay here?
you told him everything.
the ugly fears. the big dreams. the way you were terrified of endings. and he listened like none of it was a burden. like your heart wasn’t something to fix, just something to hold.
“i know what i want,” he said once, sitting across from you at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a mug that had gone cold. “i don’t want a maybe-life.”
you teased him for how serious he sounded. called him old. told him he thought too far ahead.
but secretly, your heart felt safe.
because what he wanted, stability, gentleness, a future that didn’t feel like survival, matched yours perfectly.
he was kind in a way that felt intentional.
to strangers. to coworkers. to you when you cried over things you couldn’t explain. he never rushed you. never raised his voice. never made you feel foolish for needing reassurance.
sometimes you’d look at him and think, oh. this is how people are supposed to be loved.
and god, you loved him. so much it scared you.
the fight wasn’t even big. that’s what makes it worse.
just tired words. misunderstood tones. two people hurting and assuming there would be time later to fix it.
“we’ll talk,” he said, standing at the door. not angry. just hurt. “i promise.”
you nodded. swallowed your pride. told yourself tomorrow was close enough. you didn’t hug him. you wish you had.
because the stone in front of you is cold.
you’ve been sitting here longer than you meant to. the grass has soaked through your jeans. your legs ache but you don’t move because moving feels like admitting something final.
kento nanami.
the name looks wrong carved into something permanent.
you press your fingers against it like you can warm it up.
“you were right,” you whisper, voice cracking in a way that surprises you. “about love. about the future. about everything.”
your chest feels too tight to breathe properly.
“you took care of me so beautifully,” you say, tears slipping down without drama, just heavy and quiet. “you made my head quiet. do you know how rare that is?”
the wind moves through the trees. that’s all you get back.
“i wanted to come back,” you choke. “i wanted to tell you i was scared because loving you felt like forever, not because i didn’t want it.”
your hands shake.
“i would’ve stayed,” you whisper. “i swear i would’ve stayed in that bubble with you.”
but there is no later. no fixing it. no soft apologies. no second try where you do it right. the man who knew exactly what he wanted for his future never got to have one.
and you realize the cruelest thing of all isn’t that you broke up.
it’s that you didn’t get the chance to make up.
you sit there with all the words you saved for later, learning the hard way that later is not guaranteed.
and the quiet he gave you, the safety, the gentleness, follows you home like a ghost.
because love like that doesn’t end when someone leaves. it ends when you’re standing in front of a grave, still talking to him, still hoping somehow he can hear you.
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ʚ Toji Fushiguro Blog ɞ
𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 aftercare with toji must be heaven
ᢉ𐭩 kiss me beneath the milky twilight
ᢉ𐭩 taking care of tired & overworked toji
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 breaking news: little bunny in her first heat!
ᢉ𐭩 his roommate is a camgirl
aftercare with toji fushiguro
you don’t move for a looong moment.
not because you can’t, but because you don’t want to. because you’re warm and weightless and floating somewhere soft between being awake and being dream-heavy. because toji’s big arms are around you. loose, protective, like he’s afraid to let go even though he knows he’s not going anywhere.
you’re lying on his chest, cheek pressed to the steady rise and fall of him, and everything feels slowed. melted. like the whole world slipped off your shoulders and onto the floor with your clothes.
he strokes your back, absentminded, fingers tracing lazy lines down your spine. it almost tickles, almost makes you shiver, but it’s so tender it turns you boneless.
“you alive?” toji murmurs, voice rough in that way that always gives him away. the softness he pretends he doesn’t have.
you hum, the sound small, warm. “barely.”
he chuckles, the vibration under your cheek soft and deep. “yeah. figured.”
you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes, and he’s already looking at you; already studying you like you’re something fragile and precious he somehow gets to hold.
“you good?” he asks, thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
you nod, slow. “mhm. i’m happy.”
the word feels too simple compared to how your chest feels: full, overflowing, like there’s too much tenderness inside you and nowhere for it to go.
“good,” he says, and his voice breaks just the tiniest bit. “that’s all i care about.”
toji isn’t good with confessions. you’ve learned that. he’ll ruin a man with a flick of his wrist, but tell him he’s important and he gets quiet. shy in a way you never expect.
you shift closer, curling into him, and he lifts the blanket higher over your back.
his hand cups the back of your head, holding you there gently. like he’s memorizing the shape of you.
“you need water?” he asks softly. “or somethin’ sweet? i can get it.”
you shake your head, nuzzling into his chest like you’re trying to hide inside him.
“just stay,” you whisper, and that’s all it takes.
toji exhales, long and slow, his hand sliding down to hold your waist. “yeah,” he says quietly. “i’m not going anywhere.”
you lie like that for a while, listening to his heartbeat. the kind of rhythm that makes you feel safe in a way you can’t explain.
then he shifts just enough to press a kiss to the top of your head. not rushed. not casual. a kiss that feels like a promise.
“you’re somethin’ else,” he mumbles against your hair. “drivin’ me crazy with how small you get after.”
you whine into his chest, embarrassed. “don’t tease…”
he smiles; you can hear it in his voice. “i’m not teasing. i’m serious. you get all quiet and soft and… fuck, it kills me.”
you bury your face deeper, making him laugh gently.
his hand rubs the back of your arm in slow circles. “hey,” he says, “look at me.”
you lift your head, sleepy-eyed and flushed.
toji takes your face in his palm, thumb brushing your cheekbone, gaze warm enough to melt the air around you.
“you’re okay?” he asks again. quieter. more serious.
“i’m perfect,” you whisper.
something in his expression softens. completely. disarmed.
he kisses your forehead.
“good,” he breathes. “as long as you’re good.”
your eyes flutter, and your voice comes out almost dreamy. “hold me?”
he pulls you back onto his chest instantly. “always.”
and he does. he holds you like you’re something he found after years of not knowing he was looking. he holds you like he’s scared the world will try to take you.
he holds you until your breaths match, until the warmth sinks deep into your bones, until sleep pulls at your eyelids and he whispers, “it’s okay, baby. i got you. go ahead. rest.”
you fall asleep on his heartbeat.
and toji stays awake for a while, one arm around your waist, the other stroking your hair, staring at the ceiling like he’s thanking someone he pretends he doesn’t believe in.
because loving you scares him. and losing you scares him more.
but right now? right now you’re here. safe and his.
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
“the satoru gojo has never kissed before?!“
you swear satoru gojo was born with confidence carved into his bones.
all sharp grins, lazy swagger, and the kind of cockiness that makes everyone else roll their eyes but secretly adore him.
he‘s the type to lean back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head like he’s posing for a magazine cover, the world glinting off his snow-white hair like it’s in love with him too.
but tonight? tonight he’s different.
he‘s sitting in front of you, long legs folded, fingers picking at the hem of his uniform like he doesn’t know what to do with all that endless, overflowing energy of his. and when you ask him if he’s okay, he laughs.
except it comes out a little too soft, a little too tight. his voice drops to this barely-there murmur.
“i, uh… i’ve never done this before.”
at first you think he means something else, but then you catch the way his eyes flicker down to your mouth, then dart away like he got burned.
his first kiss.
satoru gojo, strongest in the room, loudest in any hallway, smug king of smug, has never been kissed. your heart melts so hard you almost slide off your chair.
“satoru,” you whisper, leaning in so he has to meet your gaze. his breath stutters. “it‘s okay. we‘ll go slow.”
he nods, but the movement is tiny. his cheeks are pink, dusted like he brushed them against cherry blossoms, and his lashes tremble. he looks so unreal in the low light. all moonlit eyelashes and swallowed breaths.
you tilt his chin up with the gentlest touch.
“just follow me,” you say.
his lips part like he’s about to make a joke, but you close the distance before he can. and god. the moment your mouth meets his, every part of him stops. like the world hit pause.
his lips are soft. softer than you imagined. warm in a way that spreads up your spine and curls into your ribs like sunrise. he exhales into you, the faintest, shakiest sound, like he didn’t know a person could feel this much.
you kiss him slow, so slow. guiding him. your hand slides to his cheek, and he leans into it like he’s been waiting his whole life just to melt in someone’s palm. no. not someone‘s palm. your palm.
satoru doesn’t move at first. he‘s frozen. not from fear, but awe. pure wonder. like you are the miracle.
then, hesitantly, he kisses back. a careful brush. then another. a little deeper. his breath catches on your lower lip. his fingers curl in your shirt, gentle but desperate, pulling you closer like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
you taste the faint sweetness of the mochi he stole earlier. the warmth of his breath. the impossible softness of someone who has never kissed anyone but already wants to memorize everything about kissing you.
when you finally pull back, barely an inch, satoru still doesn’t open his eyes.
his lips are swollen, color blooming there like he’s been drinking rose tea. his cheeks are pink. And he looks full. overflowing. like his heart is too big for his chest.
“satoru?” you whisper.
he finally opens his eyes. they‘re glassy. bright. a little too honest.
“that…” he swallows. “that was my first kiss.”
“i know,” you smile. “how was it?”
he doesn’t answer. not verbally. instead, he lets out this breathy laugh. one that sounds like disbelief and happiness had a baby. and suddenly he’s cupping your face with both hands.
“come here,” he murmurs, voice low but shaky with joy.
then he kisses you. again, again, again.
little pecks all over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. his lips are fluttery, clumsy, ridiculously affectionate. he squeezes your cheeks between his palms, squishing your face until you giggle, and he beams like your laugh alone is enough to power the sun.
“i like this,” he says, peppering another kiss right beside your mouth. “i like kissing you.”
you kiss him once more and he practically glows.
his confidence comes back, but different now. softer. realer perhaps. the kind that slips out when he tucks his forehead against yours and whispers:
“teach me everything, okay?”
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
boyfriend!nanami would do anything for his sweet princess
you don’t even hear the front door open. you’re too focused on patting your cheeks with the tips of your fingers, the way your favorite skincare girlies taught you.
the bathroom is warm, filled with soft steam and the faint scent of rosewater, and you’re standing there in nothing but your baby-pink lace underwear set. delicate, frilly, the kind that makes you feel pretty just existing.
you’re humming to yourself. a little angel in front of the mirror. and that’s exactly how nanami finds you.
he stops in the doorway. absolutely still.
his suitcase in hand, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up from a long, long day. and his eyes go so soft it almost hurts.
you only notice him when his reflection appears behind yours.
“k-kento!” you squeak, nearly dropping your cotton pad.
he smiles, tired but warm. always warm for you. “did i startle you, sweetheart?”
“yes!” you whine, but you’re already smiling, cheeks heating up. “you scared me.”
nanami sets his suitcase down, stepping slowly into the bathroom like he’s afraid he might break the scene if he moves too fast. his hands find your waist from behind, large palms fitting perfectly against your skin.
“long day?” you ask softly.
“it was,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head, “but this? this is a beautiful thing to come home to.”
you flush so hard you could melt. “kento…”
he brushes your hair back gently, admiring you in the mirror: the delicate lace, the soft pink, your glowing cheeks, the way you look so small and so loved in his arms.
you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck. “missed you.”
“i missed you too,” he says, voice low and sincere, threaded with exhaustion and devotion. “more than you know.”
you pull back slightly, cupping his cheeks. “sit,” you tell him, pointing to the little stool by the counter. “i wanna do your skincare.”
nanami raises an eyebrow. “you want to?”
“yes,” you pout. “you look tired. let me take care of you.”
and god. he can never deny you when you speak like that.
he sits.
you stand between his knees, grabbing the products you bought specifically because you thought they’d look cute on his skin.
“close your eyes,” you say.
he does.
you apply cleanser with your hands, soft and slow, massaging circles into his cheeks. he lets out a quiet breath, shoulders dropping a little, the kind of sigh only someone who feels truly safe can make.
“you work too hard,” you murmur.
“and you worry too much,” he counters, voice barely above a whisper.
you rinse the cleanser off with a warm cloth, your touch gentle, almost reverent.
toner next. essence. serum. moisturizer.
you pat every layer in with your fingertips, tapping lightly the way you do on your own skin.
nanami watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaze softening with every touch.
“you’re very focused,” he whispers.
“this is serious business,” you say, trying not to smile as you tap under his eyes. “you deserve to be pampered.”
he chuckles. that rare, quiet nanami laugh that feels like sunlight slipping through blinds.
when you finish, you take a step back. “there. perfect.”
he reaches for your wrist, pulling you gently into his lap.
you squeak. “kento!”
he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face against your shoulder. “thank you,” he murmurs. “you always take such good care of me.”
“of course i do.” you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “i’m your princess.”
nanami lifts his head and looks at you with a softness that makes your heart feel too big for your chest.
“you are,” he whispers, thumb tracing your jaw. “and i hope i make you feel that way every day.”
you lean in, pressing your forehead to his.
“you do,” you breathe. “you always do.”
he kisses you slow. slow like he just got home, slow like he’s savoring something precious, slow like he’s thanking the universe for letting him love you.
and when he pulls back, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“stay like this a little longer,” he murmurs.
“in my underwear?” you tease.
“in my arms,” he corrects gently.
you smile and melt into his chest, letting nanami hold you, letting his heartbeat thrum steady beneath your ear. just the two of you.
ᥫ᭡. mimi‘s works ˎˊ˗
꒰ jujutsu kaisen ꒱
〢 ^ྀི🍒 𝟎𝟏. 𝒢. Satoru ˎˊ˗
〢 ^ྀི🍒 𝟎𝟐. 𝓕. Toji ˎˊ˗
〢 ^ྀི🍒 𝟎𝟑. 𝒩. Kento ˎˊ˗
𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ʚ 𝓢atoru Gojo Blog ɞ
𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 let me kiss your worries away
ᢉ𐭩 teaching gojo how to kiss
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 teaching him how to get you off
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ʚ 𝒦ento Nanami Blog ɞ
𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 the baby says hi for the first time
ᢉ𐭩 he lets you do his skincare
ᢉ𐭩 a later is not guaranteed
ᢉ𐭩 nanami coming home to his stay at home wife
𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 ── .✦
ᢉ𐭩 hitting the a spot!
˚₊‧꒰ა ꨄ︎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
fratboy!satoru x insecure!reader
you don’t mean to cry.
you really, really don’t.
you came here to yell at satoru, maybe push his shoulder, maybe throw one of his stupid baseball caps at him. but the moment you close the front door behind you and see him sitting on his bed in that dumb grey hoodie he always steals from his roommate, hair messy, phone tossed aside like he’s been pacing for hours your throat tightens so fast it hurts.
he looks up immediately, like he sensed you the way flowers know sunrise. and the second he sees your face everything inside him softens.
“baby?” his voice goes gentle in a way that should be impossible for someone with his personality. “hey, what happened?”
you shake your head, but your breath shivers out of you, and suddenly the room feels too big, too quiet, too much. you feel stupid for crying. embarrassed. small. and it’s like he reads all of that in a single glance.
he gets off the bed without saying anything else and walks toward you, slow, careful, like approaching a scared animal. his palms hover near your cheeks for a second. waiting, asking, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.
you nod.
and he touches you.
warm hands cupping your jaw, thumbs brushing the corners of your mouth. his skin smells like laundry detergent and mint gum. familiar. safe. like someone draping a blanket over your shoulders when you didn’t ask but desperately needed it.
“were they mean to you again?” he whispers.
your face crumples.
satoru pulls you into his chest instantly. arms tight, chin on your hair, body curved around you like he’s trying to shield you from the world. he sways a little, absently, the way people do when they’re comforting without thinking.
“i’ve got you,” he murmurs softly. “come here. let me hold you.”
you melt. there’s no other word for it.
all that anger, that heat in your chest, all those sharp edges from the things those girls said? they dissolve the second he wraps his arms around you and tucks you against his hoodie like you belong nowhere else.
his heartbeat is steady, heavy, grounding. you feel your breathing sync with his without trying.
after a minute you manage to whisper, “they said i wasn’t your type. that you’re just… settling.”
you feel the way satoru stiffens. but only for a moment. then he lets out a slow breath against your temple and presses a kiss there. another one. a third, lingering one.
“come here,” he says again, gentler this time, lifting your face with both hands. “look at me.”
you do.
his blue eyes are warm enough to break something inside you.
he brushes a tear off your cheek with his thumb. then another. and another. he handles you like you’re fragile, even though he knows damn well you’re the strongest girl he’s ever met.
“i can be an asshole,” he starts, voice so soft it nearly shakes, “and i can be a selfish prick-”
“mhm,” you sniff, because yes. he can.
he huffs a breathy laugh, smile small but real. “but even in my worst moments,” he says, leaning closer, brushing your hair out of your face with impossible care, “i’d never break you down like that.”
his hand slides to cradle the back of your neck, thumb rubbing slow circles.
“ever,” he whispers. “not once. not in this lifetime. not in any.”
your eyes burn again.
and then he kisses you. slow, tender, the kind of kiss that feels like someone placing their coat over your shoulders, wrapping you in warmth, whispering “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.”
every second of it feels like exhaling the breath you didn’t know you were holding.
when he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours.
“you’re my girl,” he murmurs, voice barely above a breath. “my favorite person. my best thing.”
your fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, holding on like you’re scared you’ll float away.
“i don’t want anyone but you,” he says, arms sliding around your waist again to pull you closer. “not now, not ever. you get that, right?”
you nod into him, throat too tight to speak.
“good,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “because i’m absolutely, ridiculously gone for you.”
he hugs you then. really hugs you. with both arms locked tight around you, his hand rubbing slow up and down your back, lips brushing your hairline. it feels like sinking into warm blankets after a long day, like finally letting yourself rest.
he whispers, soft like a lullaby:
“i’ve got you. i’m right here. don’t listen to anyone who tries to dim you. you’re everything. my everything.”
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
christmas tree search with pregnant!reader and husband!nanami ends with a miracle ૮ ˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა
it feels like the kind of cold that sneaks under your clothes and kisses your bones, but you swear you’ve never felt warmer.
maybe it’s because kento is walking half a step behind you, one hand spread across the small of your back like he’s terrified the wind might try to steal you away. maybe it’s because he insisted on wrapping his scarf around both of your necks even though it means he has to lean down a little to keep you tucked into him.
maybe it’s just december magic settling into your pregnant belly like a secret.
the tree farm is quiet in that winter way, where even sound feels like it’s tiptoeing. the sky is a soft gray blanket, thick with snow that keeps drifting down in slow, patient flakes, dotting kento‘s hair until he looks like he was carved out of ice and then warmed back to life just for you.
“you’re shivering,” he murmurs, brushing a snowflake off your eyebrow with the gentlest fingers anyone has ever used on you.
“i’m fine,” you say, even though you definitely aren’t. but you kind of like the cold, because it makes it easier to lean into him, easier to press your cheek against the wool of his coat and feel like you’re allowed to exist entirely inside his warmth.
he tucks you closer anyway. “the baby doesn’t need you freezing.”
the baby. your baby. his baby.
the thought hits you again like it always does that kento is already a father in the way he carries himself.
he moves slower, steadier, like one wrong step could ripple through the universe and knock you off balance. he tries to hide that he checks on you every ten seconds, but you feel his gaze grazing your profile every time you look at a new tree.
“what about this one?” you ask, tugging on his sleeve as you stop in front of a full, round pine with branches heavy with snow.
kento glances at it. “if you want it, we’ll take it.”
“kento,” you groan, “you agree with everything i point at.”
“i trust your taste,” he says simply, brushing your hair behind your ear. “and i trust that our child will grow up with a mother who picks beautiful things.”
you swear your heart flips like a coin.
you move deeper into the trees. the world smells like cold pine and clean snow. your boots crunch in a soft rhythm. your hands are stiff from the cold, but kento slips his own into your pocket and threads his fingers between yours, warming you instantly.
your baby shifts a little, a strange, fluttery kind of feeling you can’t quite decipher, but you don’t think too much of it. not yet.
because then it happens.
you freeze mid-step. “kento.”
he turns so fast it startles the snow off a nearby branch. “what? what’s wrong? is something—”
you grab his wrist and press it flat to your belly. “wait. just… wait.”
for a moment, it’s silent. like the air itself is holding its breath. and then. something tiny. something new. a soft thump from deep inside you, gentle but unmistakable.
your baby. your baby’s first kick.
kento‘s breath leaves him in a shaky cloud. “did— was that—?”
another kick answers him. firmer this time. like your baby is knocking.
hellooo?? dad?? i’m here actually??
kento drops to his knees so fast you barely register it. he has snow all over his pants but he doesn’t even flinch. both hands come up to cradle your belly like he’s holding the most fragile star in the sky.
“oh my god…” he whispers, voice cracking in a way you’ve never heard. “hi. hi, little one.”
you feel your throat tighten, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, because this, this right here is the softest you’ve ever seen him. kento nanami, who holds the world together with stoic patience and quiet strength, is undone by a tiny foot.
he presses his forehead to the swell of your tummy, snow melting in his hair.
your breath catches.
“she kicked,” he says, like he still needs confirmation, as if he didn’t feel it himself. “she really kicked.”
“she did,” you whisper, brushing your fingers through his hair. “she‘s saying hi.”
kento wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you gently closer.
“thank you,” he murmurs against your belly. “thank you for growing our baby girl so beautifully.”
your heart breaks in the best way.
snow keeps falling, landing in his hair, on your lashes, on your coat. you’re surrounded by pine trees and winter hush and the sound of kento‘s shaky breath as he kisses your belly through your layers of clothing.
when he finally stands, his eyes are glassy, but he smiles. a warm, quiet, husband smile that feels like home. he cups your cheeks with cold hands, warming them with his palms.
“let’s find the most perfect tree here. our baby deserves nothing less.”
you smile, leaning into him as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. slow, melting, sweet, like he’s promising you a forever made of moments just like this.
and suddenly everything feels like a beginning. like the world cracked open just a little to let something luminous spill out.
like winter itself paused to witness your tiny, perfect miracle.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
18+ guiding your boyfriend satoru gojo how to get you off ?!
you get comfortable on satoru's lap, your back against his muscular, hard chest. your nerves are a wreck, heart thumping in anticipation. thump thump.
no, pull yourself together. you had been the one begging for him all day to touch you, and now you have what you wanted. don't get weak now.
you lean your head against his shoulder, head tilting up. vibrant, blue eyes look down at you behind those sexy black frames. his hair is falling messily onto his forehead, and you could feel your heartbeat miss a beat, just to start beating twice as fast.
"are you ready?"
you swallow, gaze dropping to his pretty soft lips, mouth almost watering at the sight. instead of replying you take his hand in yours.
the difference in size between your hands already makes your pussy throb. oh my, those big, long, veiny hands are going to be the death of you. literally.
you guide his hand and let it rest right on your bare pussy. satoru's breath hitches, fingers twitching. you bite your lip, cranking your head to steal a kiss.
your hand presses lightly down on his, guiding him up and down on your soft skin. you moan at the sensation and satoru swallows it, humming against your lips in approval.
you break your lips free from his to follow the movement of your joined hands down on you.
"please press firmer," you whisper, tapping on his hand. satoru immediately obeys, hand pressing down on your slit.
the metal of his ring brushes your clit and you gasp, back arching just slightly to feel more of it. of him.
"you're so sensitive," he chuckles, removing his glasses with one hand to properly look down at you.
he barely touched you and you're already soaking for him. his leaking bulge presses against your ass, poor thing completely ignored and neglected by the two of you.
"mm," you mumble, moving his hand to brush in circles over your peeking, swollen clit.
a jolt of pleasure rushes through you and your hips buck once in response, chasing the feeling.
satoru's free hand holds your hips down, fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"don't. guide me. make me make you feel good."
you whine, frustrated, hips bucking in protest again.
"you are. you are making me feel good."
but your boyfriend isn't having it. he pulls his hand out of your grasp, sighing disappointed.
"looks like you don't need me then."
you clutch at his arm as he begins moving you up from his lap, eyes widening as you look at him.
"no. please, toru. need you. i'll stop, promise."
satoru grins, pulling you flush against his chest, hands grazing your hardened nipples through your his shirt.
he offers you his hand and you take it, guiding him back down. but this time you hold your hips down when you rub his hand over your prodding clit.
"good girl. see, i knew you could do it."
you moan in response, fingers squeezing his hand in approval, slick gushing out of you at the praise.
satoru presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sucking down on the sweet spot just beneath your ear. you hiss and he soothingly licks over the spot.
you can feel his hips grinding slowly against your ass, his breath coming hot and ragged against your ear. he spreads your slick over your pussy and his fingers, lubricating himself.
"s' wet for me."
you nod, eyes fluttering at the stimulation.
"yes. a-all for you, toru."
he clicks his tongue, fingers teasing your leaking hole.
"damn right it's for me. allll for me."
you almost rolled your eyes at his cockiness back in annoyance. instead, your eyes roll back in pleasure as he inserts his finger, walls clamping down on him, mouth falling open in a surprised moan.
"ngnn, toru. gotta warn me before-"
you can't even finish your sentence, because his finger suddenly curls, hitting that spongy spot inside you with ease. your legs fall open widely, the hand which had been holding his pressing into his thigh.
"nah uh. come on, pretty girl. keep guiding me."
your hand shakes as it curls around his wrist, slowly pulling him out. and when you move his finger back inside he curls it again.
"whatcha think of speeding this up a little?"
and then he is moving his finger, fucking them in and out in a fast pace. your head lolls back on his shoulder, mouth agape as a stream of sweet moans leave your pretty lips. your eyes are now closed, hips bucking against his hand.
"yeah, keep moving just like that baby."
he groans whenever you rock back on him, his bulge just beneath the soft curve of your ass. his finger pulls completely out, a wet sticky string connecting his finger to your fluttering hole. he pushes two fingers back inside and your back arches almost ridiculously.
"feels, f-fuck, so good 'toru."
he chuckles, deep and warm. a soft kiss lands on your ear, his bulge rubbing more desperately against you.
"mhm, i bet it does. is my girl enjoying herself?"
"yes."
your thighs start shaking, the muscles in your pussy pulling tight. you're so damn close.
"pleaseee, just a little more."
satoru is right behind you, breath heavy, balls twitching as another wave of slick gushes out of your little hole.
"you're so close. i can, hah, feel you tightening. wish it was my cock inside y-you, feeling you, filling you up."
that's all it takes.
"mm, yes. oh god. toru- toruuu, 'm cumming."
your body tenses, the string snapping as your body shakes, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum. hard. satoru groans, hips stuttering as his cock spills his load into his boxers, the white sticky release wasted by not being inside of you.