fluff. grumpy husband toji brings home.. a kitten?
you were maintaining your very important night-time routine (pinterest doomscrolling while sipping on chai) when your husband came home from work.
the door shut behind toji and made you look up, a smile immediately lifting your lips. before you opened your mouth to greet him, you noticed he was carrying something. a weird something. the jacket in his arms was rolled up and concealing a small figure.
“toji, what is—“
you were cut off by a small meow.
a gasp tore out of you and everything was put aside, quickly running across the living room to meet him by the door.
“you brought home a kitten?” you screamed, nearly jumping up and down with excitement.
a kitten was the dream pet but with graduate school and toji’s busy schedule, it never happened. until now. you were already thinking of a dozen different people to hire for babysitting.
he grunted and set the jacket down. a tiny tuxedo kitten escaped from its confines, looking around the house with curiosity.
you squealed when you finally saw the kitten. cuteness overload immediately overtook your senses. “oh my gosh, he’s so cute!”
toji watched you, trying to appear serious but there were traces of amusement in his expression. “the thing was all alone by the dumpster. don’t get attached, I’m dropping him off at the shelter tomorrow.”
you scooped up the baby in your arms, smiling down at him before shooting toji a glare. “hey, don’t be rude to puffin.”
he raised an eyebrow, poking your cheek. “puffin?”
you grinned and looked back down, pressing a kiss to the kitten’s head. “um yeah. puffin as in looks like a penguin, as in they have matching tuxedos.”
he rubbed a hand over his face dramatically, watching the exchange in front of him. you hadn’t even greeted him with a kiss. “okay well puffin probably has fleas so he better not be on my side of the bed when I get there.”
to your dismay, when you guys got into bed, puffin actually had left you for toji’s side of the bed. he curled up behind toji’s head, sharing the pillow. you pouted and gently shoved toji’s chest.
“why’s he with you? you don’t even like him.” you huffed which brought a small smile to toji’s face.
he wrapped his arms around you to pull you in close, kissing your forehead.
“you can take him back, don’t want him.” he said, pecking your pout next.
you smiled softly and pecked his lips back. “aw, we’re like a little family now.”
toji brought a hand up to pinch your cheek, a smile peeking through despite his narrowed eyes. “don’t get attached baby. he’s already taking too much of your affection from me.”
you let out a soft laugh and buried your face into his chest, definitely attached—mostly to the idea of having a family with toji.
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You and Satoru were sitting on his obnoxiously large bed as you fumbled to turn the live stream on. Your viewers have been begging for a Q&A session.
“Hey guys! Welcome back to another live stream. I’m here with Satoru — as usual.” He gave you a sideways glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Before you could even come up with a response, the comments came flooding in.
jlawhusband: KISS yooo who said that 👀
meow4toru: LOOK AT HIS SMIRK OH MY GAWD
kugi-nobara: i need your skincare routine.
You squinted at the screen. “Guys, tone it down, will you? You guys are crazy, except you, Kugi. I’ll do a video on my routine.” Satoru laughed, “They’re always weird, no? Can’t blame them.” He stretched one of his hands and rested it over your shoulder. “We are that couple.”
Rolling your eyes, you opened your phone and scrolled through the list of questions sent by your followers. “Okay, first question,” grinning, you turned to your boyfriend. “How whipped are you on a scale of one to ten?”
He blinked at you, pale eyebrows furrowing in thought before he answered, “Eleven.” He turned to the camera, his eyes narrowing slightly. “So don’t even think about flirting in the comments.”
toegay_inu: Yooo chill this feels targeted towards me 😕😕
m4k1i1: That’s because it is. Stop shooting your shot, they never land.
You giggled as your boyfriend gradually got redder every time someone made a weak attempt to flirt with you. “I just said off limits, guys! Take a hint.” Sulking, he took the phone and scrolled to the next question.
“Right,” he deadpanned, a pout settling on his lips as he turned towards you, “Who the hell asked if you’re single?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that snuck past your lips, “Oh my god? Did they actually?”
Satoru’s brows knitted together as his cheeks turned pink. “I will seriously start banning some of you from these streams!” You laughed louder, resting your hand on his shoulder. “Toru, you can’t do that!”
He mumbled something about doxing people before you swatted his arm and continued. “Okay, this one is asking us to react to the edits on TikTok. That seems okay.” Satoru seemed to perk up at this. “Awesome!” Babe, do you think they have those ship edits of us?” Giggling, you replied, “Baby, doesn’t that only happen when people aren’t dating?”
He rolled his eyes, “Whatever potato, potahto.”
The first edit that popped up was one for Sukuna. Gojo had connected his phone to his TV so you could aim the camera at it as well.
“Bend over and take this dick —”
“Woah!” You both practically screamed in unison, jumping into each other’s arms as if what you had just witnessed was a crime against humanity.
sukunas4thwife: OH MY GOD THATS MY EDITT!!1!1!1
hearts-yorozu: my man my man my man
fushiguro_m: ???
Clearing your throat, you scroll past the video, “Moving on.”
The next seems to be a wholesome edit of you and Satoru, different clips of your various vlogs stitched together to some soft music with the caption “dream relationship.”
Both you and Satoru cooed at the video, watching it on repeat a few times. “Awww, Toru. This is so cute! Look at us,” you pointed to a clip of you two baking from one of your first videos; flour was smeared across his face while he chased you around with a dollop of icing on his finger.
Then, Gojo looked as if he had a lightbulb moment: “Let’s search up my name.”
You almost instantly regretted letting him do that.
The edit opened with him laughing, head thrown back while his oval sunglasses rested prettily on his face. The next clip was of him licking his lips — but they conveniently cropped out the cake from the video. Then came the shirtless gym video…
“Oh?” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Satoru stammered, clearly trying to recover the situation as sensual music played over and over as the video looped. “I-I uh forgot that was posted…” You snatched your phone back. “Clearly. Now everyone on live just witnessed that!”
Peering over, you checked the comments, and to your dismay, they were definitely swooning.
hi-bara: DAMN BRO
gojol0verr: I’m looking respectfully.
satorusfan1: I’M LOOKING DISRESPECTFULLY
The comments just kept coming, practically overloading the screen with over-the-top compliments. Satoru leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “What can I say? The ladies and gents love me.”
You groaned, deciding the best course of action was to retaliate and look up your own name.
Your edit was more intimate, with soft colouring and a sweet song, editing you as if you were the dead wife at the start of a movie. You watched as clips of your own face were pieced together most beautifully.
Satoru sighed dreamily, “Wow.”
The comments seemed to echo his expression.
st4r-kirara: i’m in complete awe
shoko_i: Ruin my life. Please?
drakesux: i will fight Gojo.
Satoru’s face shifted again; this time, instead of being possessive, he seemed to be in awe of the edit and actually agreed with the viewers instead of arguing.
“Yeah, all mine by the way.” He leaned over, pressing an obscenely sloppy kiss to your cheek before returning a cheeky grin to the camera.
satoru is balls deep inside of you, snapping his hips against yours, driven by one particular thing.
making you squirt.
he’d never failed at anything in his life. not one class, not one exam, especially not at pleasing his girlfriend during sex.
and he wasn’t about to start now.
"i’m gonna—hah— do it, baby. gonna make you squirt, i swear," he rasps, large hands clasped around the backs of your knees, pushing your legs up and back — angling his cock upwards as he thrusts into you.
you pant rapidly, looking down and watching satoru’s cock disappear inside of you over and over again. "told you it’s n-not possible. i’ve— mnnnn—tried before."
your self doubt only adds to your boyfriend’s enthusiasm. he recalculates, pulling his cock out until just the tip was inside — then thrusts forward with a new angle.
he rolls his hips forwards again, the first few thrusts slow and experimental before he speeds up again; heavy balls slapping against your skin.
then, he sees your face. mouth gaped wide open, legs beginning to twitch.
"right there, isn’t it?" satoru pants, leaning in, forehead pressed against yours as he pins your legs back as far as they’ll go.
your fingernails rake down his back, leaving angry red marks — desperate moans spilling from you.
"you can do it, baby. need you to squirt for me— please," he moans breathily, bringing his hand down to rub your clit from side to side.
your moans increase, both a familiar and foreign sensation building inside of you, the dual stimulation making you curl your toes tightly.
"aahhnnn! toru’—think i’m gonna—" you struggle, barely able to articulate your words.
satoru perseveres, forehead slightly damp with sweat — white hair sticking to it as he feels your cunt contract around his dick. "that’s it, doing so well, baby. need you to—shit—make a mess."
your cheeks flush red, short but frequent spurts of fluid beginning to gush out as satoru thrusts, shallow and fast.
"that’s s-so fucking hot—" satoru groans, pupils dilating at the filthy sight.
he pulls out as he continues to rub your clit, letting you get it all out, his hand and lower abdomen becoming drenched in the meantime.
unable to hold back, your boyfriend begins fisting his cock in his other hand, feeling it throb in his palm — tip flushed and leaking. "shit, there’s so much-"
gradually, you stop squirting, letting your head flop back against the pillows. just as you do, satoru cums, releasing his thick, warm load directly onto your already soaked pussy.
"ah—shit, my pretty girl, love you so m-much," he whines, milking himself dry as he replays the memory of you squirting on his dick over and over in his mind.
when he’s through it, he looms over you, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "you okay? did so good," satoru praises.
you nod, holding him close. "m’tired now… and half expecting you to say you told me so."
satoru smiles, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and putting them back on so he can see his girlfriend’s face perfectly for what he’s about to say.
"well, i did tell you so. you should know by now that i’m never wrong, baby."
Notes: This series is just a plethora of my favourite Halloween/ Autumn tropes by this point. What can i say, it’s the most wonderful time of the year! I promise we’ll be back to our scheduled spooky programming tomorrow. For now, enjoy some domestic Fall bliss.
Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.
My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said, “Mommy, there’s a knight behind the bush.” I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes, “Listen. Do you hear it? It’s night behind the bush.” It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.
My little bean knows she’s two, constantly saying proudly ‘I’m two!’ And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said ‘oh shiiiit. She’s three.’ I almost screamed.
the two year old bean is now 11, that’s how long this post has been going around, and I STILL bust out laughing like a maniac whenever I read ‘oh shiiiit. She’s three.’
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It’s been a month since your new owner brought you home, and despite expectations, you’ve yet to be eaten by the predators you share your den with. On the contrary, the six hybrids seem to have accepted you as their seventh pack member despite you being at the very bottom of the food chain.
You’ve come to trust that, despite the look of hunger in their eyes… food isn’t exactly what they have in mind.
The hyena seems to be the only one your age. But he’s also a bit of a bully. Always goading you with ticklish poking until you stomp your feet and whine at him to stop.
He never listens to you, though – he just cocks his head, finding it funny how you try giving him orders – only grinning as he pins you instead, chewing some on the lops of your ears while squeezing your cottontail – smirking and giggling at your pouty face getting all frustrated.
Your weak kicking is so cute, and so is how you try clawing at him despite having but blunt nails – he can’t help but laugh at the way it tickles him.
It’s so painstakingly clear you’re not made to fight back, and it’s so adorable how you don’t even realize you already surrendered the moment you rolled over on your back with your belly up.
It makes him go absolutely feral when you pull on his ears and mane, begging him to stop as he laves at your slit and clit, delving his long tongue deep within your walls until the tip prods your womb. It’s course against your skin and harsh on your insides and scratches your poor clit until it’s all swollen and throbbing for him – making you sob as his feral smile teases your chubby mound with a bite – only satisfied when you cum in his mouth.
But while the hyena enjoys play-fighting with you, the rest are more prone to fight each other…
The panther and leopard are good friends, whilst the fox and wolf seem to tolerate each other – and you don’t know whether it’s unfortunate or a blessing in disguise that both pairs only want you for themselves and often end up fighting over you.
You’d say the four are the most trigger-happy of the pack – always hissing and barking at each other. But everyone knows that cats and dogs don’t get along.
The canines are a little scarier, you think. They’re rougher with you.
The wolf especially. He’s older than you, a big heap of hulking muscles that bear down over you with the daunting superiority of a seasoned hunter.
He doesn’t take lightly to you talking back to him – acting as though he’s actually offended when you so much as open your mouth if it’s not to swallow his tongue. Even if all you ask is for him to go a little slower, he’ll just growl at you – threatening your neck with fangs while chewing your collar – and otherwise ignore your cry completely. Calling you his bitch while telling you to quit your whimpering even though he’s been breeding you sore for the past hour, ramming your poor cunt so hard your muscles have all given out and left you to lie on the floor with only his paws keeping your hips upright.
He's always extra rough when you reek of cat – as though it’s your fault. Huffing and puffing as he now has to spend so much effort scenting you again.
It’s a never-ending war between them all. You go from camp to camp, getting marked again and again like territory, only for your owner to clean you up at the end of the day.
But the wolf is the worst. One time he’d gone so far as to piss on you…
But he was later scolded by the owner – bonking his head with a rolled-up newspaper, telling him he had to learn to share or else he’d have to go sleep out in the doghouse. He’d also been told he had to stop breaking skin when biting you unless he wanted to be muzzled.
It only made him all the more grumpier. Growling in your ear that the one who ought to be muzzled is you and your snitch-mouth always crying wolf like some bitch who never learns her place – that next time you go talking to the owner, he’s going to eat you like the piece of meat you are.
You come to learn that he’s more bark than bite after a while.
When you get used to him and his stamina, you stop crying and start holding onto him instead. And it’s when you’re burying your face in his neck and begging for his seed that he softens up for you.
He stops biting and starts sucking instead – laying hickeys all over your neck and chest, blushing with closed eyes when suckling your tits like a pup. You learn he’s a sucker for being called good boy and will wag his tail when you sit on his face.
He’s also the one with the most owner-sickness of the pack, always clinging to you, growling when others get close, and never ever sharing when his turn.
He only begrudgingly allows the fox to eat his scraps afterward.
You can only mew as he mounts you next.
His tempo is always a bit of a shock – a bit juvenile, but who can blame him when he’s had to wait for so long? He’s a little younger than you – eager and desperate for it every single time.
Pounding you sharply – hard and fast with howls and heavy panting – even whimpering as you hold you tighter and tighter, squeezing you free of air as he savors the feel of your wet pussy clamping down around him.
He doesn’t growl too much when you whine. Instead, he laughs – elated and frenzied – eyes manic as he sticks his tongue as far down your throat as he can – drooling uncontrollably as he sinks his knot inside you and spills his worth inside your womb.
It’s a relief he doesn’t last as long as his bigger partner.
He’ll suck love-bites on the chubs of your cheeks as he unswells – lick all the sweat from your skin and come down by the sweet taste. Laying sloppy kisses all over your body and lapping over all bruises and soreness in gratitude – looking at you somewhat sheepishly with big puppy-dog eyes as though suddenly embarrassed that he’d been so feral.
The felines are less spastic.
But they also like to lick you – with sand-textured tongues scraping at your fur and skin until they’ve made sure you’re coated with their scent. They seem to enjoy grooming more than anything, always snuggling with you.
But they get flirty, too… you’ll know when they start kneading your softer parts – blinking at you slow and expectantly until you return the favor.
They’re the same age and have known each other all their life, practically brothers, and do everything together as though they were a pair of Siamese – including when they mate with you.
They’ll lay you down on one lean chest while the other is poised above you. Purring as they take turns with you – both so gently.
The panther always has a sly smile on his face when looking down at you – his claws retracted while he sticks his slender fingers inside your mouth to play with your tongue. He says it’s one of his favorite things about you – so soft and so silky, so different from theirs when you lick his skin.
It makes the leopard pout behind you, nuzzling you tight, his cheek to your cheek, asking the other if he doesn’t like it when he grooms him.
The panther only smiles down at both of you, promising that he likes both your tongues until he proceeds to swap between which one of you he kisses.
When the leopard kisses you, he also admits he likes your tongue – whispering all depraved things that come to mind – loves how smooth it feels in his mouth and on his lips and neck and nipples and cock and balls.
Eventually, the heat gets to their heads, and their pointy ears start to droop, looking at you with such dark glossy eyes, opium-blown with pleasure and lust for more – kissing each side of your face, asking whether you won’t allow them both inside you at the same time – their pretty pleas making your head go silly, panting while nodding your head for them, bucking your hips stuck between the two while begging for both of them.
You feel their slim tails coil around each of your thighs as they sink inside your drooling heat together – their breaths deep and shuddering while they feel your tightness squeeze around them.
They coo at you – telling you how perfect you look trapped between them like that – as their pretty little double-stuffed toy. And you’re too cock-drunk to do anything but agree.
After flooding you with cum, they go back to cuddling – sleeping – the both of them purring with lanky limbs all tangled on top of each other and you in the middle.
The bear is also a lazy fellow – a gentle giant. Something you’re grateful for – you don’t think you’d survive if he ever tried mounting and pounding you like the other boys.
He’s the eldest of the pack. Twice your age. You feel the seniority in his movements – all unhurried, savoring every second with a warm smile.
He’s satisfied with having you on his lap – cock-warmed by your tight bunny-cunt while you hand-feed him berries. You feel a little safer with him knowing you have the same appetite and that he isn’t thinking about eating you.
He hums, a rusty sound that comes from his gut – telling you he likes seeing you eat – that it’s cute how you take such small bites – and the way your nose scrunches and your cheeks fill.
Sometimes he’ll tell you to hop on his lap – his massive warm paws placed on your haunches with large black claws gently denting the plush flesh found there, encouraging you as you ease up and down the great length that bulges from your belly.
The size of it makes you pant.
You’re glad he’s happy having you at the end of the day – after you’ve been loosened up by the others. You fear he’d split you in two if otherwise.
The owner collects you before bedtime after everyone’s had their share – clips a leash onto your collar, and leads you to the bathroom – crawling on all four like an actual animal. You’ll often collapse halfway there, but he doesn’t mind scooping you up to carry you instead – always with a few patronizing words leaving him while mollycoddling you, almost speaking baby to you, telling you how proud he is of how domesticated you’ve become.
There’s always a bath waiting for you – a gift for being such a good little pet, he says.
It reminds you of when you were first brought here, as he washes you with his own hands – rubbing the filth of spit, cum, and sweat from your sore limbs, messaging your flesh into nice limber softness again.
He’s always mumbling about human matters under his breath – money, business, estate – ruffling your hair when you give him a blank stare. Apologizing while saying he won’t trouble your pretty head with such complicated topics.
All you have to worry about is being his stress-relief – something clueless and dumb and dependent on him. You realize that without him needing to say it. It’s communicated through all the other things he says anyway.
He’s always whispering in your ear before bed – sweet nothings about what a good bunny you are – how you’re the cutest, softest, sweetest little thing in the entire world – telling you how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re finally settling in – how you’ve become the most precious little housebroken pet for him.
It feels different when he touches you. The other hybrids make you feel small, but there’s a familiarity with them – something about being hunted fairly and squarely, like out in the wild.
With the owner, you’re reminded you’re a pet eating out of his palm – something tame warming his bed at night with your leash tied to the bed frame.
He doesn’t fuck you with the same intent as the others do – there’s no rut behind his cold movements. It’s not mating or breeding. It’s something else you can’t put your finger on. Something human. Something alien to you.
Something in the way he has his hand fisting your leash as he sinks inside your heat – something in how he babies you, calls you cute when you shake and cum around his cock like you can’t control yourself.
It all makes you feel like some mindless animal.
Impulsive and primitive in comparison to him and his calculated thrusts and how he only cums inside you after you’ve all but begged him to breed you.
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Rule #1: Don’t flirt with Satoru’s girlfriend. (•̀ ᴖ •́)
The party had moved from the halls of the frat house out into the obnoxiously large garden, bodies danced along the grass while some brave souls dived into the pool in their underwear. It was clear most people were wasted.
You remember Satoru saying something about the party being a “housewarming” for the new pledges, although you knew it was just another excuse for his first bros to get shit faced and for him to stuff his own face with abnormal amounts of confectionery.
Glancing around, you notice that Shoko and Utahime had snuck off together and that Yuki was currently making her move in a very red and sweaty Choso. “Oh, for God's sake,” you sigh to yourself, “Can’t any of them keep it in their pants?”
Just as you were about to search for your boyfriend and unfamiliar raven-haired face blocks your path. He flashed a grin, “Hey, I don't think we've ever met.”
You smiled politely and shrugged, “Probably not.”
The man leans against a nearby tree, clearly swelling with pride as he continues to hit on you. “Well, it's nice to meet you. I don't get to see many pretty girls around here.” You laughed awkwardly, “I mean… I can name a few.”
His eyes flickered around before settling back onto you, “Let’s get out of here. Somewhere quiet, maybe?”
Choking back a laugh, you replied, “Well, I’m actually about to go look for my boyfriend.” To which he laughed, “Really? Who would leave a pretty girl like you all alone?”
“Hey, now,” the unmistakable voice of your boyfriend came from behind him, “That’s no way to talk about the frat president, oh humble pledge.” The man spun around so fast he looked blurry, sputtering a sad excuse for an apology while looking at his feet.
“I-I swear I didn’t know, Gojo!” But the white-haired man only grinned, “Ah, no worries, no harm, no foul. Right?”
You shot him a sceptical look as he slung an arm around you, hugging you into his side. Just as the raven-haired man turned to walk away, Suguru and Sukuna seemed to appear from thin air. The two guys grab onto his arms and legs and begin to hoist him towards the pool.
“Hey! Let go of me! I swear I didn't mean any harm!”
Gojo chuckled, watching as his friends launched the new member of the fraternity into the pool.
A loud splash! echoed the garden, water flew up and covered the pavement. The entire party seemed to freeze, then laughter erupted; even the now-soaking pledge seemed to resurface with a smile on his face. “Alright! You got me. Sorry, man.”
“Good!” Satoru yelled back, not before leaning down to press a wet kiss right on your cheek. You giggled as he pressed a couple more kisses around your face, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “You're so cruel, you know that?”
Satoru just scoffed, “What? As president, I believe reprimandations are in order.” You laughed again, “Is that even a word?” He simply shrugged, tugging you closer to the speakers. “May I have this dance?”
You rolled your eyes, “Only if you promise not to throw anyone else into the pool.” He pretended to think about it, tapping his chin with his pointer finger before answering, “Nah, at least not unless they keep their eyes off of you.”
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the second your body twitches, even slightly, or you change position, toji’s eyes immediately prick open — constantly on guard.
but tonight? tonight he was awoken by something far different.
first, a gentle shuffle, your head resting against his broad chest, one of your legs slotting between his. toji stirs, instinctively draping an arm around you.
just as he begins to drift back off into a light sleep, skin to skin with his girl, you unconsciously lock your leg around him tighter; bare core pressing against the side of his thigh.
instantly, he’s awake again feeling the heat and wetness of your cunt against his skin.
toji assumed it’d end there. but no. slowly, you begin to roll your hips against his thigh, needy for him even in a deep sleep.
he doesn’t stop you, just lets out a low, quiet chuckle. "needy girl."
his hand finds your hair, gently soothing you as you unknowingly pleasure yourself, clit rubbing against his skin with every gentle thrust of your hips.
you sigh softly, warm and safe, pussy drooling from the contact. "makin’ a mess all over me, grinding that lil’ pussy all over me like y’just can’t help it," toji purrs, quiet enough not to wake you.
toji shifts his thigh more firmly between your legs, putting more delicious pressure on your clit, drawing a needy whimper from you. "keep goin, baby, that’s it," he soothes with that deep, gravelly voice, dick beginning to twitch beneath his boxers.
gradually, you pick up the pace, still in a deep sleep. you begin to moan, soft and breathy — slick sticky and warm against toji’s thigh.
you whine as your body grows tired, rutting against your boyfriend with unhurried rolls of your hips — "mnn," you complain, lazy and oblivious.
watching you struggle, toji grips your hip with one large hand, helping you move. "i’ve got you, princess. gonna help you."
your little sighs and moans turn into soft, broken pants. toji’s lips brush your temple, still occasionally muttering sweet praise.
"cmon, baby. almost there," he encourages, addicted to watching the way your hips move against him.
a smirk grows on toji’s face as he feels your body tense — so small against his. a desperate cry slips past your lips, along with a quiet mumble of his name.
"mm, toji—" you mewl, chasing the pleasure, still anchored in by toji’s large hand on your hip.
you stir awake just before you cum, eye fluttering open, too tired to register what was going on. "that’s a good girl," he rasps, "fuckin’ adorable."
you take in the feeling of your creamy mess against toji’s thigh — a faint sheen of sweat on your forehead.
your clit throbs as you come down, mind finally catching up with your body. toji kisses your temple, "look who’s awake." you bury your face against his chest, trying to hide your embarrassment. "toji.. did i-"
"hump my thigh in your sleep, yeah baby. y’did," he grins, rubbing your back reassuringly. "s’okay, it was cute."
you feared this would become a habit.
a/n; sorry this is so short i was having toji withdrawals and wanted to write something before bed (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
