
iluv ghibli, grave of fireflies made me cry. luvluv tokyo revengers, blue lock, haikyuu, jjk, kenji sato
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SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.
SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.
c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.
word count: 2,1k
note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.
ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.
“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.
“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.
“First movie, pretty iconic.”
“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.
The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.
“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.
“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.
“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.
“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.
“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.
“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.
“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.
“Just saying.”
You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.
“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.
A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.
“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?
“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.
You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.
“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.
“Sugu—“
“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”
Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.
“Do you like scary movies?”
“Mhm,”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.
“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”
“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.
“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.
“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.
“Nightmare on Elm Street,”
“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.
“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”
He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.
“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.
Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.
“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.
“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.
“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.
You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.
“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.
“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.
“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.
“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.
He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.
Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.
You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.
Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.
“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.
“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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More Posts from Kensqueent
20/20 feat. toji fushiguro ❝ BOYFRIEND!TOJI NEEDS GLASSES ?! ❞



now playing… blind by role model.
summary. after months of denying his deteriorating eyesight, your boyfriend finally lets you drag him to an optometrist appointment.
tags. boyfriend!toji x fem!reader, fluff, some suggestive parts, established relationship, toddler!megumi being the cutiepie that he is, boyfriend!toji being everything a man should be (hot, blind, and utterly whipped).
wc. 2.6k
note. I ❤️ NERDS

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou heard that right.
boyfriend!toji, who very clearly needs reading glasses, but would rather take his blurry ass eyesight to the grave before ever accepting it.
boyfriend!toji, who always — always — asks you to read the labels on his food for him to make sure he’s getting the right amount of protein in or whatever. (he claims the tiny letters make his head hurt, but you like to tease and blame it on his age. he never laughs.)
boyfriend!toji, who is never not squinting. it’s pretty easy to see why people think your partner’s so intimidating, considering the fact that his already daunting eyes are narrowed into slits 24/7. most people you encounter on a daily basis probably think he’s internally cursing them… not that he minds. even if he had 20/20 vision, he’d probably be glaring at them anyways.
you first notice it on a night you’re cuddled up and watching a movie with him. boyfriend!toji’s leaned into the corner of your L-shaped couch as you nestle your head against his broad, firm chest — lifting it momentarily to gawk at the devastatingly hot specimen of man currently tracing patterns down your spine with his calloused fingertips. his face is pretty much devoid of any emotion, as it usually is whenever he’s fully relaxed; but you notice his gaze deviate every once in a while from the television, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners as his jade irises go in and out of focus.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“turn the sound up, dove.” toji murmurs, too comfortable in his current position to even think about reaching for the remote. spotting the way your lips twist into a stubborn (but no less pretty, mind you) pout, he huffs. “... please.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“but ‘m too lazyyy.” you whine.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“so am iii.” he replies, kicking up the pitch of his normally husky voice to playfully match that of your protest.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“hmpf. aren’t you the man, anyways?” you counter, poking him in his pecs to emphasise your point. “all the labourful work’s on you, babe. ‘m literally just a girl.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“thought y’said we should abolish gender roles.” he drawls.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… not this one.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that doesn’t sound very fair.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“tojiii!” you roll your eyes, “we don’t even need to turn the volume up — jus’ read the subtitles!”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ mean the size five ass writing at the bottom of the screen?” he scoffs, “i don’t have x-ray vision, dove.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“x-ray vision wouldn’t even—” you stop yourself short, choosing to save yourself the middle school science lesson and shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics instead. “the subtitles are perfectly visible. you just need glasses.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“wha—” he sits straight up, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “no i don’t.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i don’t.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes you do.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“no i d—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“it’s past midnight, toj’!” you tut, “last time we turned the volume up this late, we got a noise complaint, remem—”
toji cuts you off by squishing your cheeks together with his thumb and forefinger, forcing your lips into an exaggerated pucker and planting an equally dramatic mwaaah against them with his own.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“do you remember why we had to turn it up in the first place, hm?” he teases, giving you another softer peck before releasing you from his grip. “don’t think it was the movie they were complainin’ about, dove.”
ugh. he always knows how to shut you up.
you make it your life’s mission for the next week to make boyfriend!toji realise just how blind he really is. and you don’t have to do much, seeing as he only further proves your point himself.
for example, boyfriend!toji asks you how many boxes of strawberries you’d like him to pick up at the grocery store one day. too immersed in your morning reading to give him a proper reply, you hold up three fingers from across the room. he comes home with five.
boyfriend!toji misreads a sign on the highway later that weekend — which leads to him taking a wrong exit, and the two of you showing up to your fancy dinner reservation half an hour late. you end up spending date night eating mcdonald’s in the backseat of his volkswagen instead. (greeeat.)
boyfriend!toji damn near kills one of megumi’s friends who’s over for a playdate the following week. the little boy’s mother had talked his ear off at the front door about her son’s plethora of life-threatening allergies — even given him a list she’d taken upon herself to print out beforehand — and he still managed to miss the ‘MAY CONTAIN NUTS’ warning plastered on the chocolate bar in bold red lettering. if you hadn’t come to the rescue, practically diving headfirst into the living room and snatching the confectionary from the child’s grip, you imagine his mother would most definitely have the both of your heads on a platter by now. (phew.)
so boyfriend!toji finally gives in, letting you drag him along to one of your optometrist appointments for a check-up.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“this is dumb.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“just read as many letters as you can from the screen, mr. fushiguro.”
“… what is this, pre-school?”
“toji.”
the man slumps back against the optometrist’s padded chair at the sound of your voice, folding his arms across his chest and giving you a silent little hmpf before doing as he’s told.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“a, f, g, k… e, t, o, d, z… p, m, j, f, l — this is so stupid — n, r, s.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“good. now onto the next level.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“uhhh…” you watch your boyfriend’s everpresent confidence begin to falter at this stage, brows furrowing as he squints against the darkness of the small room. “m… f… c? uhhh, no — that’s an o. wait! actually — a d.”
you stifle a giggle at the scene unfolding before you, and he shoots you a warning glare.
“keep going, mr. fushiguro.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“that’s a… k… then a z…” you swear he’s just making up letters at this point, “and— the fuck, is that a hexagon?!”
with the click of a button, your optometrist fishes out a sheet of paper and slaps it down on the table next to him.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“your prescription will be ready soon.”
boyfriend!toji, who picks up his new glasses the following week — a standard rectangular pair with black frames that you helped him choose.
boyfriend!toji, who quite literally tells you to wait outside as he tries them on for the first time in your shared bedroom, locking the door behind him as if he were going into some sort of top secret mission.
boyfriend!toji, who refuses to come out for the next ten minutes.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji, this is ridiculous.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i look like a fuckin’ incel!”
you give the doorknob another jiggle; yet, still, he doesn’t budge.
“unlock the damn door, fushiguro!” you huff, “i need to get ready for bed!”
a short pause.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“… fine.” you hear your boyfriend murmur. followed by the sound of his footsteps treading closer to the door, the knob turning slowly before he adds, “promise y’er not gonna laugh.”
you roll your eyes, “sure.”
and then the door peels open to reveal… well, what might just be your newest obsession.
the stark black frames do nothing to mask the stubborn blush tinting toji’s cheeks but goddamn, do they compliment the rest of his features well.
they’re not too chunky, nor too thin; just the perfect amount of thickness to emphasise the angles of that strong jawline, those prominent cheekbones, and the pair of brows almost always raised in sinister jest. his eyes also look darker, sharper — if that’s even possible — flecks of emerald in his irises brought to life by the viridescent sheen of the lens.
fuck, your boyfriend’s so hot.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ think so?”
you blink a couple times, too distracted by the man’s new look to realise you had voiced that last thought fact aloud. but if the way his subtle frown morphs into a shit-eating smirk is anything to go by, he’s most definitely caught on to the effect it has on you.
and oh, does he love it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“cat got your tongue, dove?” toji hums, the hellish glint in his eyes magnified by the lenses. “c’mooon, say something. y’er lookin’ at me like i’m a piece of damn meat.”
it’s true.
you should be ashamed of the way you’re blatantly staring at him as if you’re a hormonal middle schooler catching a glimpse of the opposite gender for the first time — but you can’t find it in yourself to care. not when your man looks this fine. and certainly not when it’s already taking everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping onto the ground and drooling all over the place.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“still nothin’?” toji pouts mockingly. “aw, y’er breakin’ my heart here. don’t tell me my girl doesn’t want me anymore?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“shut up, toj’.”
he pushes the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. a statement.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“or you must reaaally like ‘em, huh? got ya’ all speechless and i didn’t even do anything. but i bet you’d just looove to—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toji.”
he raises a brow. a challenge.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“bed. now.” you blurt out, much to the protest — or could it be encouragement? — of your own deafening pulse. you bite your lip before adding, “… n’ keep the glasses on.”
again, toji smirks. that goddamn smirk.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“yes, ma’am.”
truth be told, neither you nor boyfriend!toji could have anticipated the effects of a pair of measly glasses. (five rounds, then another two in the shower, actually.) but one thing’s for certain — now, he wears them around with a newfound pride.
the first time boyfriend!toji comes home from a particularly challenging job not only battered and bruised, but battered and bruised in his equally damaged glasses, your eyeballs almost pop out of their fuckin’ sockets. he stands in the doorway with his chest heaving; one of the lenses of his glasses cracked; slashes of crimson adorning his brow, cheek, and even that signature scar decorating his now-bloody lips. you have no idea whether to feel concerned, or truly deplorable amounts of turned on — probably a little bit of both. and that you most definitely are.
when boyfriend!toji lets you pick out his outfit for dinner at your parents’ house, you’re practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. you land on a safe option — a creamy knit sweater that hugs his muscular build oh-so deliciously, paired with some black slacks and, of course, his glasses. he looks so… sophisticated like this, you think. so handsome. you can barely keep your eyes off him for more than two seconds as he helps your father clear the table and converses with your mother over a glass of merlot.
and don’t even get you started on megumi’s recently developed habit of climbing atop boyfriend!toji’s lap to toy with the frames in his lil’ hands. the sight alone is enough to make you melt — every. single. time. and even more so when the kid decides to steal the glasses off of his father to wonkily place them on himself, giving you a gap-toothed grin across the room as you feel your heart swell at the uncanny resemblance.
see, these are only some of the very many reasons you happen to love boyfriend!toji’s new at-home look… though for him, it all comes down to one thing.
boyfriend!toji comes to this epiphany a couple of weeks after his first trip to the optometrist. megumi’s sleeping over at a friend’s place, so you and him decided to make the most out of the free night. namely, by hitting a swanky new speakeasy in town and letting loose for once in a blue moon.
alas, boyfriend!toji’s not the drinker he used to be — which means you’re nursing the man back home after no more than three and a half whiskey highballs at the ripe ol' time of 10pm.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“fuuuck, my head’s spinnin’.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ya’ big baby.” you tease, earning a distasted scowl from your boyfriend. “okay, okay - where are your glasses? ‘s not helping that you can’t see straight enough sober.”
toji barely manages an “mph.” in reply, murmuring something that vaguely sounds like “— bedroom… top drawer…” before slumping against the couch like a giant ragdoll.
by the time you return with his glasses in hand, he’s still letting out tipsy grumbles into the empty air. drama queen, you think, walking up ‘til you’re right in front of him and bending down to meet him at eye-level from his position on the couch to slide them into place yourself.
your heart does the usual thing it does whenever you see toji in his glasses — or toji at all, for that matter — and the way he’s looking at you through his thick lashes and heavy-lidded gaze isn’t helping.
immediately, something clicks.
toji’s eyes widen enough behind the lenses for you to see his pupils dilate, and before you know it, he’s got your face cradled in his hands.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“toj’—”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“my god, woman…”
he’s nothing short of mystified. your brows knit in confusion at his sudden change in demeanour, but he’s too lost in his own mind — in you — to offer any sort of explanation.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“have you always been this pretty?”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“w— what?”
you’re unable to suppress the giggle forming in your chest at toji’s words, but he’s being dead serious. you cock your head to the side ever so slightly and he gifts you with a light peck on the corner of your lips.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i mean it.” he says so sincerely it almost makes you wonder what the fuck has gotten into him. (most probably the highballs, but you digress.)
he doesn’t even look tipsy anymore. well, not on the alcohol, at least. he pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the stare framed oh-so prettily behind them now beyond blown out. his hands are so big yet so gentle; able to ghost the slopes of your facial features with his thumbs whilst still keeping your face still and focussed on him at the same time.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“y’make me feel so lucky, dove…”
you start to shy away under the intensity of it all, but toji doesn’t let up. his eyes are everywhere — it’s as if he’s searching for something; or, better yet, memorising it.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen…”
it’s been too long since he’s gotten a chance to look at you; really look at you — the subtle beauty marks that sprinkle your skin, the lines decorating the outer corners of your pretty eyes and lips that serve as a testament of all the times he’s made you smile, and all the other tiny details that make you… well, you — in all of your 20/20 glory.
it always feels like the first time.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“i love you s’much, my beautiful girl.” he kisses the words into your skin, each one as reverent as the last. “never forget it.”
boyfriend!toji, who makes sure to get his eyes checked at least twice a year now — because there’s no chance in hell he’s letting himself miss out on any of this again. ㅤ

© GUMIFY 2024 do not steal, replicate, or modify my work.

⊹₊。ꕤ˚₊⊹ random days with papamin
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: nanami kento x fem!reader, papamin!au, househusband!nanami, married life, fluff
a/n: I love papamin!au sm. I'm loving the headcanon that he's a girl dad.


𐙚 candies
another day with nanami kento and his daughter left home as soon you went to work this morning. particularly, it's not boring that they are home. he makes sure that she's entertained since she's very in need of attention from her parents. a little while later, kento checks their food and supplies and thought to go out. he then dresses his daughter so they can go to the grocery store.
“papa, may we buy this?” she asks as she shows a bag of candy— those orange shaped gummies that's quite popular lately to kids to be exact, to her papa. kento was a bit busy reading the contents of the seasoning that his attention caught. he was planning to buy some ingredients for tonight's dinner. going back, his attention went to his daughter, who is still showing the candies to him. “sweety, you just placed a pack of gummy before that.” after being said, she looks down at the cart and noticed the pack of gummy bear candies she just placed before.
she looks at kento again and he looks back at her without any word. just staring at each other, as if they're reading each other's minds. ah.. there she goes, giving him the puppy eyes. she knows that she's a daddy's girl, therefore she's going to beg for another pack of candies without any use of verbal communication. not until she gives up
“more please?” she asked politely. kento stares at his child again, he wants to say no, but she might be upset to him if he does. while thinking of the right answer, he then remembers your last scolding to your daughter being stubborn after you said no on buying her a new toy, resulting kento thought to take it as an advantage.
“you want mama angry?”
“no, papa.” she quickly answered.
“good.” he simply answers, he even noticed a hint of pout that forms in his daughter's face. it makes him want to chuckle but he hold it back, she's cute after all. victory
𐙚 first day
“papa, we go home now?” his now 5 year old daughter asks as soon they arrived at her school. there's always things for first days and first times, she was all prepared for the special day, she's neatly wearing her ironed uniform and he even mastered to tie her hair into pigtails— all looking pretty. she was so excited these past days because she's going to school as a kindergarten, but right now it seems the bright and thrilled daughter you have turns out to be so nervous and scared. obviously, wants to go home as soon she saw she'll be alone inside a classroom filled with other kids she doesn't know. especially she even saw other kids crying while clinging to their parents begging and telling them to leave at once.
“no, sweety. we just got here and it's your first day.” kento kneels on her height level and patted her head. he notices the quite fear look painted in her face as he lightly pinch her cheek to catch her full attention. “hey sweety, it's gotta be alright, papa will be watching you from outside.” he assures and holds her small hands as she nods. thinking that there is nothing to worry about since she have her papa around.
“me do great, papa!”
“that's my princess, good job.” he smiles and walks to the entrance with her holding her papa's hand.
𐙚 princess
“papa! me going to be princess!” she excitingly says while jumping. kento hums as his lips curve into a smile, looking at her daughter while watching her favorite princess movie. cheering and singing here and there and showing you both how she twirls and dance, imagining like a ‘real’ princess while wearing her new dress you both gifted.
“you're already a princess, dear.” you said and your daughter clings to your lap. “papa will be my prince!” her eyes sparkles and you both look at kento who has a soft look to his world. he can't help but smile, kento stands up and holds both her hands since she was raising it. your husband and daughter dance in front of you, filling with laughter and giggles your home. “mama dance too!” she reaches her hand to you— you have no hesitation to join your dearests.
“anything you want as long its you, our princess.”


are you a lightweight nanami..?
ac: matchapichai

🥹🥹
ac: yikeshedi

pls pls pls can we get some overstimulating toji, Hes whimpering so much, maybe tie his hands up 👀🙏 love u twin
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji letting you "top" him


warnings. fem! reader, overstim, whiney toji, riding him after he cūms, dirty talk, mdni.

“hmph. you’re gettin’ too fuckin’ cocky,” toji gruffs lowly, leaning back against the padded comforter. dark eyes stare right back into you as you straddle his lap. he’s buried into you, and he was just about to finish. his breaths were quick paced, huffing and puffing. white clouds of air escape his lips as he keeps dark irises on each of your fidgety movements. “wipe that smile of y’er face. don’t like when ya give me that look.”
you hum, leaning in to toss your arms over his wide shoulders. whilst he’s stretching your gummy walls out to the very fullest— you lean in to plant a kiss near the right side of his lip, soft contact right against his infamous slanted scar. a soft moan always withdraws from his lips whenever you did that. the toughness that scraps against your mouth as you plant your lips down on that specific spot. “or …what?” you tease, grinding your hips just a bit more brisker at a fleeting tempo. “aw, someone’s getting close?”
“fuuuck,” he growls out, pearly white canines sticking out near the very corners of his mouth. toji’s head throws back in rapture and he feels your hand glide down the middle part of his chest. his shaggy, unkempt bare chest—all types of scars from his work that you love to feel all over. he’s about to pump you full, the blissful agitation that pokes against his nerves makes him feral. “sensitive still,” and with a low exhale, he glares at your stretching sly smile. “don’t give me that look. don’t …. even—f-fuck..”
and at that exact moment, toji fushiguro whined.
you grow quiet. he grows so quiet, it’s so silent that you could hear a pen drop.
toji swallows, even a simple action as that was just so loud. he groans, leaning back against the fat silk pillows before he stares at you with low hooded eyes.
“s-shit,” and his voice continues to grow more . . . shaky.
it’s so unlike him, the way his words quaver from each word was so cute to hear. you even had his hands tied up, pinned amongst the edges of the bed. he was sprawled all out for you while you were grinding against his lap.
“i spoil you too much, f-fuckin’ little girl,” and he’s clearly trying to keep up his rough facade— but alas, it’s really no use.
“you’re cute when you whine, baby,” you smooch against the scar near the right side of his lip.
his mouth twitches in vexation and you watch as his eyes roll further back.
his abdomen— oh, it burns into a mild volume of arousal, he’s profusely sweating before he feels himself about to break. each time you sneak a kiss against his scar, he groans. “mwah,” you tease, treating the lower part of his face with such delicacy. toji was shooting you a look of grimace. briefly—he tried to keep up his stubborn antics, but his glare only turned into lewd eye rolls from how good you clamp against his cock. it’s so good, the saturation of your sopping wet pussy squeezing down on him tight, he’s going dumb by the minute. “it’s okay, toji. you can cum.”
“don’t tell me what to d—” and he gets cut off before he quite literally does cum, it’s abrupt. toji’s quavering underneath you as he dumps a thickset load of seed into you. “shit, fuckin’ damn,” he heaves. his breath was heavy as he’s leaning all the way back now. with a hand still gripped onto your left hip, he sinks into the weightlessness nirvana that awaited him. “fuuck,” he pants, a rough hand grasping your ass— for a solid moment, toji grows quiet and the only sounds that’s could have been made were the sloshes of your cunt accepting his seed. somehow he managed to rip off the restraints on his wrists—wasting no time to finally touch you. in the midst of still rocking your hips in a circular rotation again toji—it consists of such satiny ropes, you’ve never felt more stuffed. “ugh, fuckin’ slut. got me moanin’ for you like this-”
you giggle, gifting him with a chaste kiss. “i’m not done, baby. keep up with me, okay?”
toji’s caught by surprise once you start to move your hips again, accelerating them against him and he whines. “f-fuck, the fuck? girl, ‘jus fuckin’ came . . sensitive, goddamnnn.”
it was cute, the way his low raspy voice pitches up an octave— he’s whimpering, the rapid movements of your pussy having him practically speechless. with his twitching dick now flaccid, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist. a raw groan only then wrenches from the back of his throat.
“can’t cum anymore, f-fuck, ‘m still sensitive,” he babbles, softly pulling you by the neck to give him a kiss.
and by kiss, it was more sloppy than anything. with wet tongues moving against each other in tavern, he feels you grinding again and again.
toji’s so warm. he can feel his heartbeat coercively pulsating through his ears. your tender touch against him had him so needy. even while having him like this— he was still attractive, yet that’s when you grab his wrists, making him pin them back again. “fuck are ya d-doing.”
“no touching me, baby,” you hum, and his glare returns. with pinkish crimson lips squeezing into a scowl, his darkened eyebrows curl into a furrow. “touch me after you give me another one, yeah?”
he swallows, toji couldn’t believe how dominant you were being. it was rare to get him like this, even rare to be on top of him.
“fuckin’ brat,” he grouses, his muscles near his forearms tensing. your cunt’s involuntarily constricting around his massive length. your walls hug him tightly before he starts to pant more and more. “fine. f-fine, just kiss me again…… please.”
you lean in, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders before pulling him into a deep kiss.
he’s so sensitive—heavy, hot huffs of breaths gnashing together, he whines again in your mouth. toji shivers, feeling the print of your thumb brush down against his undercut. he groans, feeling your hips start to pick up pace again and he pulls away to breathe. “phew,” he puffs out, seeing nothing but pure stars. you rode him so good that he didn’t even have a witty comeback.
toji’s entire face was all flustered, he glowers once he sees your smug grin tug against your lips. “what.”
“you should whine more,” you pause your hips, leaning in to pepper a few kisses against his cheek. he’s so fluttered—still heaving through his full lungs, eyelids halfway open as a big arm wraps around your waist. toji pulls you close, despite how embarrassed he was—he took it as a opportunity to pull you closer towards him. “you sound so cute when you’re whiney.”
“shut up,” he pouts, avoiding eye contact. toji’s still stuffed inside of you before he grunts once he feels you starting to move then stop. “m-mhm. don’t stop though. keep going.”
you giggle, bringing a single finger to stroke his cheek. “say please, toji.”
“fuckin—” he starts, sending you straight daggers. he’d argue further but he was still deeply buried into you. just a quick move with your hips and he’d start whining again from the euphoric friction. “fine. fine, just finish fucking me, please.”
“good boy,” you kiss the top of his head, starting up your hips again and he brings you into his chest, wrapping his beefy arms around you before whimpering into your neck.
he swallows, seeping his teeth into the crevice of your neck. “shut u-mhm,” and he slumps back with a pussydrunk smile on his face. “actually….praise me more. call me that again, ‘n look at me when you do.”
“good boy, toji,” you repeat in a sweet voice, picking up his head to make him stare into your eyes—he’s still panting before he leans back, groaning, shuddering from your touch. “such a good boy.”
