Cinnabun’s Café

The first time you’d met the leader of the Zenin clan had been far before he ever had to bear such a title- in fact, he hadn’t even been considered an adequate heir. 

Back then you’d never in a million years have thought that Toji Zenin would be your future husband. 

It was a humid summer at the Zenin Estate.

Almost two decades ago to the day; on a day when even the cicadas seemed to sweat off the trees, echoing their sun-baffled frustrations out into the open air. And the clouds slugged across a blue sky that battered down mercilessly its balmy glare upon the heat-drunken Earth. Upon the type of people that padded their perspired foreheads with embroidered handkerchiefs, tailored hand-made for but one clan.

Just five years old, you’d been running through the Zenin Estate’s hallways in an effort to get away from the heat and your family. Your tiny feet thundering down the polished floors. Your best kimono flapping behind you.

Your clan was always rather close with the Zenin’s - on a business level, if nothing else.

So it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for them to visit Naobito and his council to go over numbers you didn’t understand, and contracts you couldn’t read yet, and shake hands with men that made your stomach lurch in nervousness. But what was out of the ordinary was the fact that you had joined them this time—your private tutoring had been paused for the summer, as most conventional schools would have. And so your father had thought that perhaps bringing you along to one of their meetings would be more fruitful than leaving you alone with the garden and the house staff. 

But the corridors were hot, and even hotter were the meeting halls your father made you bow to elders in: thick and saturated with the sweetness of expensive perfumes and clan deals done well. 

So well, in fact, that no one had noticed when you’d slipped out the mahogany double doors.

You knew you’d get in trouble sooner or later- so you might as well do as much exploring as you could!

You weaved through the expansive compound.

Skipping rocks from atop their garden bridge, feeding the koi with shreds of bread one of the house attendants had handed you, swinging from the conservative branches of gingko trees. There weren’t many flowering trees or bushes, you’d noticed. The garden was green and sterile of any other color. 

Then you’d taken to being fed little morsels of delicacies by the ladies in the kitchens- at least, until one of the Zenin elders had barged in and started barking out orders. You’d escaped immediately - not wanting to get caught just yet - and run out into the sun-scorched corridor outside.

It was there that you’d flung yourself into the nearest open room you’d found.

Its grand sliding doors shuddering shut behind you, you’d cowered into the shadows as the elder’s grumbles walked by outside.

You’d only breathed out a sigh of relief when you were sure that his feet had trundled towards the end of the hallway, making a swift turn on the pathway to the meeting hall. Sitting down on the cool wooden floor, you clutched your knees to your chest. “Thank heav-”

“If you’re gonna make this much noise then at least do it where it’ll disturb those old toads.”

You’d nearly jumped out of your own skin- in fact, you think you just might have.

If the shadows could speak then you’d have said that they sounded oddly young, though the growl in his voice made you think of those types of boys that would graze their knees and then pretend it didn’t hurt. There weren’t many children in your estate outside of you, but sometimes you’d watch over the walls at the neighborhood children from afar—and you found there seemed to be at least one or two of those always. 

He sounded like the rowdiest of the bunch.

And who you’d first thought to be a ghost - perhaps in hindsight you weren’t too far off - turns out actually to be a lone figure in the middle of the dark room. A little boy. 

He was sitting before nothing, he was sitting against nothing. 

He had long shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and a mouth permanently downturned. An irritated red scar shone from one side of it.

A drop of red blood trickled down it and made you wince.

You attempted to take a step closer-

“Didn’t ya hear what I said?” That hoarse voice - much too grown-up for but a mere child your age, perhaps a year or two older - rang out before you’d even let the soles of your feet rest. Echoing. Foreboding. “Get. Out.”

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” And you always did have a habit of questioning elders that you should perhaps not question - at least not according to your etiquette classes. So who was a little child?

He scowled and looked away.

Through the shreds of his death-black bangs, you thought you saw a glimpse of green eyes, so much like the gardens of the Zenin Estate. And you can’t help but step closer—“Who are you, anyway? What’s your name?”

“Zenin.” He spat out as if it was venom. 

“I could’ve guessed that.” You sighed, with all the wisdom of a five-year-old. Most Zenins had those sharply handsome features, the dark hair, and green eyes that glimmered like crystals. You could already see the burgeoning Zenin in the boy your age, the weight of it. “What’s your first name?”

He didn’t answer.

With a huff, you’d stepped closer.

“What’s your first name?”

He still didn’t answer.

And closer.

“What’s your first name?” 

He didn’t answer still. Not even when you were standing right beside him, he remained turned away as if you didn’t exist. 

You leaned down to try and glance at his face- but the boy snarled and whipped away. His lips stretched almost garishly underneath that fresh scar—even in the darkness it was obvious: a ruby-red slit, a slice of torture.

It looked like it hurt.

“Fine then.” You said, and he almost flinched at the exhausted tone of your voice. There was a slight collapse of his raised shoulders, as if he expected you to leave him to his shadows-

But the only thing you’re doing is grabbing onto his face and bringing it up to yours.

With the silken fabric of your very best kimono, you’d dabbed away gently at the cut on his lip. “But if you’re not going to treat this thing any time soon- then at least wipe away the blood.” Though you knew that this wasn’t the lady-like thing to do, nor even polite in any sense of the word, you couldn’t feel even a twinge of regret. “It looks pretty deep. Don’t you think you should tell your momma and papa?”

You tilted his head to the side, and he glared at you through long black lashes. “Tch…”

“Hmpf-” Puffing up your cheeks in annoyance, perhaps you’d used slightly more force than necessary when touching away the rest of the blood on his lip.

He grimaced but he didn’t move. And just when you think he might not say anything at all—“My…attendants.” 

You almost thought you’d imagined it. Eyes wide, your hands stopped. “P-pardon?”

“My attendants.” He repeated, more sure than before. “My attendants will take care of it…later.”

“I see.” It almost looked as if he was searching for your reaction, and you don’t satisfy him by showing anything. You merely tilted his head from side-to-side and checked for bruises, the way your mother would whenever you fell outside while playing by yourself. He had a few more scratches here and there - though none too deep like the scar, they stood out starkly against this pale skin. He looked like a sickly boy. “And why are you here all alone?”

“Punishment.” This answer comes out easier than the last, as though it should have been obvious.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. “Oh…I’m sorry about that.” You knew what it felt like to be punished by the council for doing things that went against what a ‘respectable daughter’ would do. Though your punishments were more writing lines and standing outside. “But I don’t think you deserved it.”

He scoffed, “You don’t even know what I did.”

“I don’t.” You shook your head, “But I still know.”

And that had been that. You finally let go of the boy’s face - there had been no more bleeding for some time now, and you almost felt embarrassed to have been holding onto him for so long. 

In the obscurity between you two, you stood in silence for what felt like a few minutes- but might as well have been eternity. You’d stared at him - the strong jaw, the hunched shoulders draped in a kimono with the Zenin emblem on the back, the scar that made him look older than he was - and he’d stared right back.

Brows furrowed, yet still looking. 

Eventually, you heard the harried calls of your mother outside - she was searching for you.

With a final look at the boy - he’d turned his face away now - you started to take a step towards the door—

Only for a small hand to clutch onto your wrist.

Stopping you in your tracks, you’d snapped your head to him immediately- but the boy still wasn’t looking at you. He had his gaze fixed on the floor, and the air about him was as if you didn’t even exist.

Though the tightness of his grip was undeniable-

“Toji.” Out had come a tiny voice. Steely. Slightly trembling. 

And for a second you were more confused than anything, before the realization had dawned upon you like the beaming of the summer Sun’s rays. 

He had repeated, “Toji Zenin.”

You repeat, “Toji Zenin.”

And then Toji had let go of you.

You nodded.

You told him your own name.

And for the first time since you’d barged into his life, Toji Zenin had looked at you with his green, green eyes. Sparkling.

It was only later - years later - in one of his letters that you’d learned of just how he’d gotten his scar. And the weight of knowledge was much heavier than the abyss of not knowing; your tears had blemished the starchy paper upon which he’d written to you about being thrown into a pit of cursed spirits by none other than his own family. That day.

All because he had no cursed energy.

And that was another thing - when you first found out about it, it hadn’t been from Toji himself. Grown-ups talk. And you’d come to realize far before he’d confessed to you that this was that infamous oldest son of the Zenin clan, one year older than you, with not a single speck of cursed energy to show for it.

Jujutsu society hated him for it.

How odd it was that they couldn’t seem to keep his name out of their mouths, then.

Though you didn’t quite care—you yourself didn’t put much weight onto the strength of one’s cursed energy. It just seemed too confusing to you as a child, and more confusing still once you grew up.

You visited the Zenin Estate as often as you could after that, often tagging along with your parents for their business meetings, or sometimes even begging some of your attendants to take you if they weren’t home. All for one person.

Him.

And though he never showed it, you knew he was happy to see you.

Happy to roll his eyes and drag you all through the hallways and secret doors and gardens- it was at your insistence that Toji had gotten the gardening staff to plant a few rose bushes there. A dash of pink in the landscape of Zenin green. You’d even managed a few times to sneak away and play together with his new cousin, only just crawling.

And just as life heartens a child, Toji also grew strong.

You saw it in him each time you visited - the way his grip on your hand would grow stronger, the way he’d tell you about another cool trick he learned in training. By himself.

And you were proud of him, you really were—“Don’t get too strong though- because what if you get all big and scary like Vegeta?”

“Vegeta’s cool.”

“Toji Zenin.”

You just didn’t expect it all to come to head like this.

The letter had arrived when you were seventeen - Toji was eighteen then, and had just gone through his coming-of-age ceremony. It was a private affair attended only by the Zenin clan members, and you understood that customs dictated their rituals remain hidden- besides, you and Toji had promised each other to celebrate in your own way with some takoyaki later on.

But the letter…

“To whom it may concern,

By decree of the Elders and in accordance with the ancient traditions of the Zenin clan, you are hereby notified of termination of regular visits to the head of the Zenin clan.

This decision is irrevocable, and any further personal association with the master, outside of compulsory business and contractual visits, is prohibited. Henceforth, you are instructed to discontinue contact with Master Toji Zenin without delay. Failure to comply with these prompt directives will result in the appropriate consequences.

Our new clan head must now focus on what is truly important.

With respect.

The elders of the Zenin clan.”

That was the first you’d ever heard about him being clan leader- or even the fact that he’d had a chance.

You had visited the Zenin Estate immediately afterwards, of course.

And it was only because of the rather close relationships that you’d grown with the house staff and guards over the years that you weren’t thrown out immediately. Though, you definitely weren’t allowed inside, either. They’d told you with grave faces that you were no longer welcome in the Zenin Estate without a guardian with you at all times - and even then you couldn’t meet with the clan leader. 

You’d been forced to trudge all the way back home, letter in hand. Toji in your heart.

You’d visited a few more times afterwards, of course. 

Perhaps for a peek of Toji if anything. But the only thing that greeted you were those looming iron gates and the same answer.

You were not welcome. No matter how much you pleaded or cried or begged for answers. 

You didn’t see Toji Zenin, newly-dubbed leader of the Zenin clan, until ten years later - and by then you’d missed him as long as you’d known him. In the meantime you’d heard whispers of him in every corner and corridor of those stuffy clan functions you were forced to attend—oh, have you heard of that Toji boy? Have you heard he’s the new Zenin clan leader now?

Have you heard they overlooked his little…lack of cursed energy if he proved himself?

Have you heard he has a gift of power said to be from the heavens?

Have you heard he’s the cruelest clan leader they’ve ever seen?

Have you heard he’s grown up to be so tall?

Have you heard he’s looking for a wife?

It was that last one that got your ears perking - no matter how much that rational part of you knew that eavesdropping wasn’t a polite habit. No matter how much you knew that you and Toji Zenin were people that didn’t know each other. And hadn’t for a long time…and perhaps might never. 

You shuddered to imagine - according to the rumors - what blood-thirsty clan leader he might have grown to become like all the Zenin clan leaders before him. But a part of you just kept circling back to the little boy in the dark room, with a scar that wouldn’t stop bleeding. 

Sure enough, by the time you’d stepped foot inside your own estate after the function- your attendants had informed you that a letter was awaiting.

A letter of proposal.

Of marriage.

.

.

.

The ceremony was a message.

Every clan leader and madam and mistress, every sorcerer and higher-up, everyone that was someone was invited to your wedding to Toji Zenin. It was a lavish affair, overripe with the most succulent foods and drinks. 

Though the week leading up to it…not quite as much.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Toji during the marriage meeting- rather ironic considering, well, the two of you would be the ones getting married. But where you might have answered the few stray questions posed by Naobito and his council, Toji had merely sat silently opposite you. 

He didn’t speak to you, he didn’t gesture at you, he didn’t even raise his green eyes and look at you.

Not during the marriage meeting. Not after.

Perhaps some stupidly hopeful part of you still thought that it was the meeting hall’s oppressive air that kept him from speaking- but Toji hadn’t spoken to you even when most of his advisory council had filtered out towards the end. When they’d left the ‘young couple’ alone to get to know each other better, but Toji had stayed silent.

“Toji?” You’d tried - and he hadn’t responded. “I suppose it’s clan leader Zenin now…”

To that, he’d flinched.

There were no more words exchanged between the two of you, and you’d travelled back to your estate to cry yourself to sleep.

The wedding vows had been written to you by your family elders. And in the days that followed - not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of the wedding guests nor your family nor your in-laws - you’d recited and re-recited your vows until your tongue got sick of the words. Until your tongue could feel them tingling at the tip of your tastebuds every passing moment.

Like a nagging, ever-present dread.

So it was rather anticlimactic when that portion of the wedding ceremony went by without a hitch—you were awoken with the blinking sun, and dressed in a wedding kimono of snow-white. Escorted to the Zenin Estate in one of their glossy black Mercedes, you were ducked from view and taken to the family shrine there like a secret.

You shuddered as you stepped inside this land for the first time in ten years.

Deep in the gardens. A froth of wedding guests already lined the lantern-lit pathway from the gates to the shrine, they turned their heads and attempted to peek underneath your white headpiece. You were grateful for the lady attendants who would smack them away no matter which higher-up they happened to be.

You found that you had been strangely calm up until this point - strangely feeling as though it were a dream.

But you’d raised your head just as you’d come to the steps of the shrine -and the first thing you’d seen were pink roses. Upon either side of the steps.

And the next thing you’d seen was Toji’s calloused hand - you’d recognize it anywhere - outstretched to help you up them.

That was when it had become real.

The binding rituals and sharing of sake passed by in a blur. Your voice shook as you stumbled through your vows, and Toji had steadily echoed his out—it seems they were written to match. Something about upholding the values of the household and furthering the Zenin name, words that were wiped from your mind as soon as they escaped your mouth. Then, after barely stealing a glance at those green, green eyes trained on you- you were dashed to the wedding reception.

Both you and Toji sat at the head of a U-shaped dinner table.

Winding around the massive dining hall like a serpent with a feast laid upon its silken white belly: sashimi platters, rolls and fragrant white rice, broths and pasta, cakes of all different kinds. The wedding reception was so big that professional chefs (some from the Zenin Estate, others hired from the best Michelin Star restaurants around the world) lined their workshops in the middle of the U and cooked for the guests live. 

The scrape of flat-top grills.

The clinking of sake cups.

The laughter of drunkards.

And the longer the night went on, the more rambunctious they seemed to become.

They toasted, they guffawed, they pretended not to brag, they asked for more.

You’re watching the scene unfold before you like a Renaissance painting—The Throes of Gluttony—and rub your weary eyes. Strained. The thing that no one seemed to mention about keeping a smile on your face for hours on end was just how deeply it caused a headache - all the way from the back of your eye sockets.

“Would you like to leave?”

It’s a gruff voice- deep. One that you haven’t heard in so long that it might have been someone unrecognizable completely.

But you knew who it was.

Even if the husky baritone didn’t come from right beside you - sending goosebumps skittering down your spine - you would have known that slightly teasing tone anywhere. You could have picked it out in a crowd of about a thousand voices- and Toji didn’t even seem to know that that familiar tease was slipping into his voice.

He looks dead serious when you turn to him, for perhaps the first time since the shrine. And oh—you’re hit with something indescribable.

Because what the rumors hadn’t seemed to mention about him was that he was so devilishly handsome.

He’d grown into those Zenin features he seemed to hate so much—now with a sharp jaw, a smoldering gaze, hair that seemed to fall effortlessly over his forehead. His tannish skin looked almost golden in the yolky yellow of the wedding lights. Puckered, pretty lips. Even the scar on there only served to make him look even more attractive. 

There was an intensity about him that only seemed to have grown tenfold in the years that you didn’t see him. There was sadness.

Despite knowing very well of his numerous fighting accolades as of late, you were taken aback by just how large he’d grown to be. The first time you’d seen him, he’d been a scrawny six-year-old that wasn’t even as tall as you. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been a gangly seventeen-year-old suffering from a sudden burst of height, and threatening to show signs of growing even taller.

And he had grown taller.

Broader.

Beefier.

Toji shifts in his seat to face you more clearly, and you watch as his dark hakama stretches over his wide shoulders. Puffed-out chest. Slender waist. Large arms. Barely doing anything to conceal his muscular frame-

He raises one jet-black brow at you and you jolt.

“Pardon?” Breathless.

Toji shoots you a slightly knowing smile, “Would you like to leave, my wife?”

My wife.

It’s more of a factual statement, than anything - a confirmation of what you already know. But you can’t control the sudden lurch in your stomach as he says it—

“Yes.” You’re blurting out the answer faster than your mind can compute it. And you reach your hand out to him. “Yes, I would like to leave.”

Toji clasps your hand with a slight chuckle, “As you wish, Madam Zenin.” Both your golden wedding bands twinkle in the dim lighting.

“Look! Look! The newly-weds are leaving their own reception-”

“Am I drunk or are they being audacious enough to hold hands-”

“Do you think we may see an heir soon?”

“All rise for the esteemed clan leader of the Zenin family, and his madam.” The last one is a booming announcement by one of the Zenin council members.

In unison, the wedding party rises to their feet.

Cluttering and slightly clumsy with liquor.

“All bow for the esteemed clan leader of the Zenin family.”

In unison, they bow.

And you’ve just about had enough of being ogled as if you were a party trick- smiling politely and tugging on Toji’s hand to leave. And perhaps the thought that you wanted to be alone with him - with your husband - was hastening your movements-

“All bow—” But Toji stands firm. Raising his stern voice above the chaos, so that every corner of the dining hall shall be able to hear his crystal-clear words. You look up at him in slight shock at this sudden speech—did he want them to bow to him again? Before he’s saying your name- “—my wife, the esteemed madam of the Zenin family.”

Your heart drops to your stomach.

Your gaze snaps to the audience- you could see the confusion simmer across their faces, the realization, the shock, the slight apprehension. It was a chamber filled to the brim with men who’ve never had to look up at a woman a day in their lives.

And here they were, bowing to you.

It doesn’t happen instantly - not at all.

They first look at each other, they first bend at their knees as if in the motion of dry heaving (and some of them look as though they just might at this very notion), then—to your surprise, Naobito Zenin is the first to bow.

Then more of your family.

Then some of the Kamo clan.

One by one, they were bowing before you. 

“Lower.” Toji barks, and they each flinch- before doing as he said. Until their heads touched the floor, the higher-ups of that room bent before you.

As if worshipping.

All but one, of course - the blond-haired man stood out amongst the crowd. In more than one way. He was well-dressed in a way that denoted him as one amongst the clans, the Zenin emblem peeking out in silver, barely twenty with black dye fringing his pale hair. There was a coarse smirk twisting his lips, and he stood with his arms crossed in the front row.

You have to squint your eyes to realize that this was none other than Toji’s cousin—Naoya Zenin. The very same little boy the two of you had played with years before.

And he was refusing to bow before a woman.

Toji, of course, would not stand for this.

One split-second, he’s beside you, the other split-second, he’s in front of the young man and grabbing Naoya’s head with one hand. So fast that you didn’t even see him move. Slamming him down until his forehead hits the floor- “I said—” As Naoya scrambles to get up, Toji raises one foot and stomps it down on the other man’s head. “-bow.”

Naoya sputters, “T-Toji-sama-”

“Lower.” He’s pressing down even harder with the heel of his golden-clad sandal. Naoya flails like a turtle overturned- “Lower.”

“Toji-sama, I didn’t mean to-”

“Lower—”

Naoya’s cheek was pressed to the floor, tears running down his cheeks and darkening the color of the ground. He was no match to your husband. “I-I apologize for-”

“Do not apologize to me.” Toji gruffs out from above, lips slightly twitching at the ends. He was enjoying this. “Apologize—to her.”

Hearing this almost seemed to hurt Naoya more than being stomped on.

He gasps.

He chokes.

He attempts uselessly to stand.

But who was he to reject a command from the clan leader?

“I…” A rush of near-satisfaction goes through your body as Naoya raises his teary eyes to look up at you- and that was only because Toji had allowed him barely even leeway. His bruised lips babble, “-apologize-”

“Madam.” Toji finishes.

“Madam.” Naoya repents, “I-I apologize, madam.”

Toji looks at you with peripherals darkened with anger, and you can only nod at him to spare the other man. You wouldn’t want a bloodbath on your wedding.

He spits down at Naoya before taking his foot off- and where his cousin darts behind the legs of Naobito Zenin, Toji calmly walks over to you and holds out his hand. For you to take.

For him to take you away from all this.

.

.

.

The elders were outside.

The elders were outside your martial bedroom and listening to every slight noise you were hatching-

“Zenin-”

“Toji.”

“Toji—” You’re gasping out wetly into the crook of his neck, your hands fisting in the expensive silks of his hakama. Heated proximity. His panting breath. Toji was pushing you flatly against the king-sized mattress, one hand on the back of your neck, the other pressing down your front.

He reaches the edge of your abdomen, almost near where your cunt was throb-throb-throbbing wildly between your legs. And you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep the most lecherous sounds from escaping- “T-Toji, so they’re going to be listening all night-”

“All night.” Toji affirms. Pearly white canines glinting between his scarred lips, “So we might as well give them a show, hm, my wife?”

And then he’s gliding the tip of his nose down your neck, down your collarbones, right between the valley of your breasts. Breathing in. “O-oh—”

Your head tilts away to give him more access- and it’s then that you’re seeing yet another glimpse of the sliding doors to this grand chamber. Paper-thin screens. Shadows of council members here to affirm that the marriage was actually being consummated - you knew it was a tradition in the Zenin clan. For the council to stand guard behind the bedroom and make sure that another heir would be born. You just didn’t think that it would be taken so seriously with rows upon rows of-

“Focus on me, darlin’.” Toji’s rasping tone warns, something primal curdling at the very back. You’re snapping your gaze over to him and zapped with electricity a darkened look in his eyes- “Or should I say…”

“Sh-shit.” You whisper as he starts shifting down your body. Lips kissed numb.

The clan leader reaches between your trembling legs. “I beg for your attention, madam.”

“Yes.”

Your whisper billows out and makes some of the elders behind the screen flinch- their shadows stretch and grow on the pale sheet almost as if they were listening even closer.

Listening in for the whoosh of Toji pushing up your decadent silks and stuffin’ his head straight into your pretty cunt. His nose dives between your pussylips. His chin hits the base of your folds. He sticks out his lengthy tongue and manages to sluuuurp! up the wads of slick stuck to your pussy.

He manages to sniff.

“Oh.”

Something cracks at the back of his throat, and you’re looking over at him curiously.

Only to find that Toji wasn’t looking at you- not even close.

He had his murky green peripherals permanently fixated on your drippin’ wet pussy, a line of slick sliding between your folds. He was almost entranced. He was almost speechless.

“Oh.”

He had his gaze locked with your throbbing cunt until it’s only a slight creak from outside that makes him break his stare to look at the elders. And then over at you and oh—you notice that his pupils were blown so wide that you nearly couldn’t see a speck of green.

You almost feel…strangely cautious at the animalistic way he was acting. Blinking down at him, “T-Toji, are you-”

But it’s almost as if hearing his name wrapped around your pretty lips is enough to send Toji Zenin into overdrive.

And he’s startling- almost fight or flight, before slapping a hand down on the side of your hips and draaagging you halfway down the damn mattress. Letting the expensive bedsheets bunch up where your hips were pulled.

Because Toji doesn’t seem to care for your trembling questions- he doesn’t seem to care that you were bucking your hips up n’ down his handsome face for more.

No.

He was gaping his maw over your wet cunt and slippin’ his tongue inside in a mere split-second- not even waiting for your elastic hole to stretch properly before starting to fuck you like a madman. Like a madman.

He was holding onto either side of your thighs n’ pressing his nose up reeeeal close to your clit- breathing in gutturally as he swabs his tongue inside. Spit dribbling. Scar grazing your folds. “Sh-shiiiiit—”

And, usually, he’d tease your whiny voice—wouldn’t he?

But right now Toji Zenin can’t even fucking breathe as he’s pistoning his fat tongue in. And out. Repeatedly, he’s swervin’ the curled tip of his tongue against the roof of your cunt and feeling as you clench all ‘round him. 

As you buck your hips off of the rickety mattress - it must’ve been decades old by the way it was protesting your every movement.

But Toji doesn’t even register just how close his bed was to shattering into a zillion pieces right now.

The only thing on his mind was…

“You.”

You’re snapping your head down in shock and confusion at the abrupt groan of a word barked between your pussylips - no warning. It hums vibrations of pleasure up your spine and makes you arch into Toji’s slidin’ lips. All dazed, as if he doesn’t even know he’d blurted it out loud.

The only thing - one - he can think of is you.

You, you, you, you.

You with your soppy wet walls wrapped around his pokin’ tongue, you with your cunt throbbing away every time his nose dug between your pussylips. You who was sucking him back in every time he pulled out, you who was- fuck. Enough to drive a man wild.

And you could feel the change in the way that Toji was makin’ out with your pussy, too.

He had gone from the slow and sensual kissing when you first entered the room- into the rapid gestures of his tongue now. Manhandling you. Not letting you escape.

Your voice cracks once he’s pinning down your flailing limbs, feeling the bulge of his big beefy biceps against your skin. “Shit, and you just really did no- ngh- preparation or anything? Just fucking me—mm, like that?” He was stretchin’ you out so hard with his mere tongue that it was making you see white.

“All the better to feel you, my dear…” The way he says it itches something carnal at the back of your mind. And you shiver as he purses his lips and gives your clit a harsh suck. 

“A-and you’re just being so- ngh, rough.” You mumble out between wet lips.

“All the better to eat you, my dear.” Toji flicks a careless look at the grey shadows beyond the screen, the way they stirred as they surely knew what was happening in here. Almost to taunt them - Toji’s taking a few more hefty thrusts inside your hole and moaning. Loud and proud. 

“And, Toji…” Breaths hitching a mile a minute - right on time with the sloppy cadence of his tongue. You gasp, “-you’re just so damn…” Rough? Needy? Gluttonous? “-loud.”

“All the better to make them know you’re mine, my dear.”

And it’s as if your mind is suddenly made of nothing but fuzz and the most lecherous swipes of Toji’s tongue- he was holding you so tight to him that you can feel the half-moons of his fingernails embed onto your skin. Pointed chin smacking against the base of your pussy in a constant drumming that leaves you maddened. Tongue viciously pummeling in and out—

So damn noisy with the most primal slurps that you almost can’t hear yourself over it. Whining maddeningly.

“And by the sounds of it-” Toji’s continuing into your cunt, as if he was still in the middle of a conversation. Just casual. Not even with you - he was chattin’ away lovingly to your pussy. “-m’eating you pretty well, huh?”

“Fuck, when did you get so cocky—mmpf.” You’re raising a hand up to muffle the noises leaking from your throat.

But Toji catches the slight movement- and in the blink of an eye, his trained reflexes have both of your hands pinned to the front of your stomach. Wrists restrained. Your tits pressed together in a way that presents a feast for his eyes.

The way he looks at you…oh.

You’re just so wet that you could already see the gleaming layer forming on Toji’s face like a medal of honor. And you’re sure the squelches were loud enough that they could be heard even outside- “Shit.” Struggling against his lewd restraints, “Toji, but they’re gonna hear us-”

And when he still doesn’t stop his motioning face, you find yourself breaking away a hand and running it through his sweaty black locks.

Having to lightly tug to get his attention on you instead of your sopping pussy- “Toji, they’re gonna hear-”

Your husband whispers something breathless against your cunt that you don’t quite catch.

“What was that?” You’re leaning up on your elbows to hear. And you can only stare into the murky depths of his gaze, pupils blown and dazed. 

He smacks his scarred lips- slightly parted as he tries desperately to crane himself closer to your quivering hole. “Cheh.” Toji rolls his eyes and lurches back a mere centimeter or two - the expression on his face was something agonized as if it hurt him to pull away - only to spit a dripping wad of saliva down onto your cunt. 

“Please…” You’re shivering, “What was that?”

Breath choppy. Tone absolutely shattered. He repeats- “Who did ya marry?”

His voice muffles into your folds. You’re looking away from the traditional sliding doors and finding that he has his eyes dead-set on you—intense.

For a few seconds you’re so enraptured by the look in his verdant eyes that you’re speechless- and only then do you register what exactly he asked. “Wait…what?” He looked dead fucking serious.

Splat! Another wad of spittle. “Answer the question, will you, madam?”

His voice was full of authority. The beastly man from earlier. “Y-you…? Toji Zenin.” You’re just managing to gasp out, shivering at the feeling of his tastebuds then rovering uuuup and down your slit. Teasing. Then pushing inside. He’d stretched his muscle out so that very honed tip would graze your most sensitive insides, “Toji, why are you asking me-”

“Then why dont’cha fucking scream your husband’s name for them to hear, hm?”

And you swear you can feel his smile against your very pussylips for a mere sultry moment.

Before he’s back to swipin’ into you like a machine. 

Except this time…he’s using both his mouth and the two globular ends of his fingertips.

The fingertips on his left hand.

They were thick and rough after years of training- perfect to swab against your most tender spots and leave your walls raw with pleasure. And just when you thought his size and shape would be enough to drive you frenzied, Toji was curvin’ up his fingers in a way that let the frigid metal of his wedding ring press against your walls.

All cold and making it easy to follow his movements. He was forcing in his solid inches with quick, methodical strokes down your velvety channel.

Probin’ into the sweetest spots - you’re sure that Toji was just so generous with his size that he doesn’t even have to try to fill up your every orifice. He spreads his fingers apart and scissors into your insides, pumping them roughly.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

“Oh my god—” Let them hear? Let the elders hear? “Toji, what has gotten into-”

Thwack!

“I said…let them hear.”

Just then he’s puckerin’ his two fingerpads against your poor g-spot- already having mapped your cunt out with his tongue. It was almost as if his digits were on a treasure hunt to find where you liked him thumpin’ away into the most.

So hard that you think the elders outside can hear it. So hard that you swear they’re flinching-

Thump-thump-thump!

And whatever question you had on the tip of your tongue before is immediately evaporating at the sheer frenzy Toji shows when he’s drilling into you. The realization hits you like a truck. “Toji, are you…pussydrunk?”

He merely flicked his half-lidded eyes up at you- “Mmmm—” Groaning his deep baritone against your raw n’ rubbed lips - it makes you leak out in your syrupy sap even more. He has the audacity to look at your ruined expression and giggle. “I dunno, council, am I pussydrunk?”

Though it wasn’t as if they could hear that slight whisper- or even if they could, it was impossible that they’d answer.

But Toji seems to be utterly unaffected by that little tidbit, and instead looks even more gleeful at the silence from the audience just behind a thin screen on the door. “Heh- when they hear they’ll know I fuck my wife goooooood.”

You supposed that answered your question already. And you’re holding onto Toji’s crown and rutting up against his ajar mouth. “Shit- shit, I never thought you’d be so—”

“Look- I think they’re squirming.” Toji glances over at the shadows that still loomed, as present as ever. “I think they’re already startin’ to find out.”

“Fuck.” He’s thrashing his wedding ring against your g-spot once more. 

And from then on you were merely at your husband’s mercy - at the mercy of the clan leader of the Zenin’s. He was acting just as ruthlessly. 

Almost as if he wanted them to hear everything he was doing.

“Bet they can hear just how wet ya are f’me- just how much you’re leaking over this damn fucking Zenin bed they love so much.” On cue, he’s rutting against the bedframe to leave its springs creaking. “Bet they can hear the way you suck me up like thaaaaaat- atta girl. My wife.” Toji hooked his fingertips at the ends and made them splosh out even more slick- dragging them out of your puckered hole and fucking them right back in. “Wonder if they know how sweet ya are though, huh?”

Like your body was ready to prove his point, your hole gapes with a gush of glittery slick. One that Toji’s gulping up with as much noise as he could possibly make.

Purposefully bucking his hips against the mattress even more - it was almost as if eating you out like this was too much to bear. He bites down on the insides of his cheek as his rock-hard erection crushed against the soft comfort. He just needed to fuck you—

Toji has his teeth nibblin’ over your pretty clit and sucking until his chiselled cheeks hollowed and it made the most lecherous squelching sounds. Each of them a cacophony that echoed outside. He moans, “Bet they can hear how ready you are-” And you’re noticing that at this particular sentence, your husband raises his volume just a tad. He raises it. “-how fucking neeeeedy ya are to get fucked stupid by me.”

A rattle outside.

Both of you turn your head in unison to look at the commotion, but whatever the incident may have been, no one seems to move from their seats at your audience. Almost glued there - and not by duty any longer.

You look back at Toji who was grinning.

He puffs out a snicker above your swollen folds—“Pwah! If anything, at least the Zenin clan leader knows how to eat pussy.”

Toji’s shaggy bangs graze across your clit and make you twitch, “T-Tooooji—I don’t think m’gonna last…”

“What was that?”

“I think m’gonna cum.”

A smile he can’t control breaks out across his face, “Louder, madam.” Toji alternates his greedy gaze between your enraptured audience, your lewdly twisting expressions, and your pussy. All gulping him down greedily.

What a sight it was to behold - and that noise? Who’s going to stop him from reaching over to grab at one of your sandals and fling it against the sliding door- where it knocks against the cedar screen and clatters to the floor. “Ya hear that?” He calls to those uptight elders, surely horrified by now… “Louder for the ones in the back~”

Turning your head, you see that your clans are more restless than ever. “M’gonna cum-”

“Louder.”

“Gonna cum—”

“Louder.”

It seems that no matter how loud you were, it just wouldn’t be enough for him.

So the only thing you could do at this point is to throw your head back and get lost in your sudden wave of bliss - throw your head back and cum.

You’re grabbing handfuls of Toji’s shaggy black hair and yowling out his name as loud as your voicebox could handle it- “T-Toji.” Bubbling out past the sizzlin’ mouthfuls of saliva welling up at your throat. “Toji—shit, shit, shit, Toji m’cumming.”

“Mmm—” He barely had the time to respond, fucking his fingers into you furiously. His mouth latched on permanently to your clit as he dragged on your high, digits hittin’ your g-spot at every startling peak of euphoria. Again. And again. And again and again and again.

Somehow he managed to pinpoint each highest point of pleasure, and you have to bite back tears at the sheer intensity. Heartbeat thundering in your eardrums. Toes curling until it almost hurts. 

And through it all the handsome clan leader below you was readily taking on each of your cunt’s drags. Each of the gyrations you were pumping down on his swollen lips and his nose. Each of the little jerks as you had to be pulled back onto his swollen lips and his nose- he wasn’t letting you escape until you were well and thoroughly fucked through your orgasm.

You blink down dazedly at him once you’re clear-headed enough to formulate proper sentences. “Toji, m’cumming and it’s all because of you—”

“Fuck.” And with that said, he’s ruuuutting harshly against the mattress. It groans even louder in response and makes the chamber vibrate with noise.

You swear at the shaking of the bed, “Y-you’re gonna break this bed tonight, I swear-”

“Good.”

And it’s with a few more vulgar strokes that your high’s dissipating into a mere few tingles at your core - which, even that Toji’s threatening to swerve his fingers into you through. And you’re completely sure that he would’ve elongated you through your first high and straight into a second one had it not been for you pulling him off by the strands of his hair.

Begging through choked-up sobs, “Toji-” You were straining to get him to move- not that you didn’t want it, but you were just so sensitive that you wanted something…else more right now. “Toji, I’m begging you to—hah.”

“To what, my wife?” He’s running his calloused hands up and down the sides of your body. “I’ll give you anything, madam.”

Your lips quivered, “I want your cock, Toji…”

And, well, how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

In no time, Toji’s lifting himself off of your lower half and climbing further up the bed. Something about the way he looks right now - half-lidded gaze, primal smirk, panting chest, throbbing erection through his wedding hakama - made you shift yourself up to the headboard.

And once you’re hitting the cool plane of mahogany, Toji grins.

“Nowhere to run, darlin’.”

The Zenin clan leader considers tearing off your kimono with his bare hands - before that admiring look you’d directed towards the garment makes him reconsider. It makes him sigh and gently start to part through the layers. They were much too much work, in his opinion.

And he’s practically jittery with need by the time the last of your obis are thrown over his shoulder.

And as for his clothes…

Toji takes his sensual time slipping off his robes - so many layers that it makes you so thoroughly impatient. And so you can’t help but reach out and threaten to rip his decadent clothes off-

“Tearing your husband’s clothes off already?” Toji says to you, though you do notice that he’s lilting his pitch up just a bit to let the elders outside hear. “S’that pussy that needy f’me already, my wife? Can’t wait until I take it off, huh?” You smack his chiselled pec and he grins even wider, “Oh, madam, we’re gonna have a looooong and happy marriage—”

Toji doesn’t even properly expose himself.

He’s merely lazily pushing aside his robes until you could practically see all of him: the naturally ripped lines of his muscles, his toned abs, his cushy pecs. All outlined with the scruff of his happy trail that wedged between his prominent v-line.

Toji’s meaty thighs peeked out from where his robes flapped open, and he was pushing them aside to bear you his aching hot erection—

You count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven

Eight.

Nine entire inches that glistened in dripping hot precum, glazed the shiniest ruby-red on the top of his shaft. Flared tip. Heavy balls. Not only was Toji so long - but he was juuuuust as thick, with enough veins that you can already feel the phantom graze of them inside you.

Toji’s balls tightened as he took in the way you were looking at him-

“Like what you see, huh?” He’s smirking down sleazily at you, giving a playful smack on the sheeny inner part of your thigh. “Don’t you worry, darlin’, you’re gonna be feeling me very soon.”

“Shit, I can’t wait.” Your legs drop open around him - and end up wrapped around Toji’s slim waist to get him to buck his cock against your cunt. “I need to feel you now, Toji.”

“Now? No preparation or nothing?” He’s cocking his head down at you—cute. Just too cute how you were shaking your head like so. Not that Toji Zenin really had any idea of stretching you out even more and teasing you endlessly, but it was nice to see you deny it all the same.

His dark fabric was still semi-draped over his shoulders (though they were falling off uselessly by now and you could spot his tanned deltoids peaking out…hoenstly, how had they trained him in the years you hadn’t seen him? Because Toji was just…incredible). And it falls over you almost like a curtain as the man pushes you back against the sweat-dampened mattress.

One hand of his presses down on your stomach, the other snakes downwards to cup his thick hilt. “But I’ve gotta warn ya…s’gonna be a biiiig stretch- alright, my girl?”

You’re nodding, “Yes—”

“And when I say big stretch, I mean a biiiiiiig one- alright?” His black brows furrow at the sensation of his tip kissin’ your pussylips - you were just so hot and soft. So ready that he almost couldn’t bear it, “Enough to make that pretty mouth of yours scream, alright?”

You huff, “A-alri—fuck.”

And those elders stationed outside your martial bedroom could probably pinpoint the exact moment that Toji’s slipping his cock inside. Red-hot. Furiously hard.

Your mouth drops into a soundless scream, and the bed dips as he rests his weight on top of your lower half. The bulbous end of his cock swabbin’ between your pussylips and finding its way inside your tight hole, he’s fitting in just the crown of his shaft and making you squeal. “Sh-shit, you’re just so big-”

“What was that?” Toji’s rutting his hips against you, his cock giving you a probing thrust. “Didn’t hear you darlin’...”

“You’re just so-” Yet another thrust. And this time you swear you can feel Toji’s salty-sweet precum trickle out at the very back of your throat—”-big, Toji—”

And this time, it’s loud enough for him.

He’s tilting his head over to the silent sliding doors with an utterly arrogant look on his face, lips turned upwards priggishly. “Ya hear that?” He’s calling out to those dusty ol’ elders - most certainly, not the least bit that softly teasing tone he’d use with you. “You small-dicked motherfuckers wish you could be me.”

“Toji—” Uselessly smacking at this bicep to no avail.

But he merely keeps going- “The only thing you can do is watch- only watch everything I do. Everything I will become.” It was like this. It was always like this - Toji had fought tooth and nail to come to where he was right now. And he’d be damned if he let some old fossils ruin his wedding night with you—they were going to have a show. He’s snarling down - and just as soon as you’re registering the expression, Toji’s crashing his lips against yours in an open-mouthed kiss. “And right now…”

You’re whimpering as the hand on top of your stomach comes pressing dooooooooown.

“-I think m’gonna become a dadda, hm?”

“Fuck-” And it’s with a single hammering thrust that Toji’s forcing his swollen cock past all that slight resistance. His head falls forwards, bangs obscuring part of his face- and he can’t stop from heaving out a shuddering groan. 

You swear you can see the exact moment that Toji Zenin breaks.

Because you’re clenching your syrupy wet walls ‘round his tip, and it’s enough to make the hulking man above you shudder. Shake. Stop your moving hips with the hand on top of your stomach.

Toji presses down—“E-easy there, darlin’.” He’s rasping between clenched teeth, sounding for all the world as if it was taking every ounce of will in his body not to let his voice tremble. “Let your—haaaah, husband fuck you like you deserve, alright?”

Just as shaky as his words were aching to be, he’s compelling his hips forwards and swabbing the back of your pussy with a plap! “Fuck.”

“Fuh-fuck.” He echoes after you. Yet another hammering movement. “Fuck, I can’t stop myself.”

“Sh-shiiit, how is it even possible to feel like this-” You’re babbling out. And it seems that that’s what Toji wanted to find out, as well.

He’s thrusting his hips forwards again.

Shaking.

And again.

And again.

And again and again-

Soon enough, Toji was fucking you. In long, deeeeeep thrusts that bruise his split-ended tip all the way against the back of your cervix—before then dragging riiiiight back out till your hold was just stretched around his mushroomy cockhead. Then all the way inside again.

“T-Tooooooji—” You’re bawling out at this point, the sheer stretch of him inside you making your cheeks drench with tears. It really just felt as if he was openin’ up every hidden spot and crevice inside you, and Toji had his pointed tip acting as the spotlight.

Pinpointing each sweet spot-

And again…

Your legs start to thrash at the constant rhythmic feeling- “Ah ah- no running away, madam.” He’s scooping you up even further into his arms, “What’d I say? Let your husband- fuh-fuck you like you deserve, hm?”

“But- but you already are—” You cry out.

“Oh?” He’s darting his eyes down to the thick little bulge that had started forming at your stomach - just the slightest movement of his globular tip swabbin’ inside. And out. Inside. And out. No matter how much you bent and curved, Toji was just so big that you could see him from the outside. He’s grinning all of a sudden. “Oh…you’re right.”

Your eyes widen, “Toji, did you just realize-”

“But that doesn’t mean m’fucking you pregnant just yet—let me breed you, darlin’.”

Your head’s falling into the pillows, your back’s arching, your throat’s crying out - your cunt just wasn’t used to him. Which is why he was fucking you harder with no hesitation like he was trying to mold himself to your pussy.

To meld himself.

To which Toji doesn’t let you last even two seconds before he’s grabbing both your limbs and wrapping them around his neck. He lets your ankles intertwine securely before bending you neatly in half until your kneecaps spank your tits. 

You were being folded.

Straight into a-

“Mating press.” Toji rasps out, his scorching hot breath tickling your face. “This is called a mating press, darlin’.” Almost as an example, he’s pumping his solid inches all the way inside your channel - Toji stirs your insides just a little bit in swervin’ motions so his veins slip and graaaaze down your sides. “But you probably already knew that—now do you know what we use it for?”

“Well, it’s to—mmpf.” But how could he expect you to answer when he was smacking the curve of his tip against your sweetest spots. Every time you were opening your mouth to try n’ form a coherent sentence, your husband was fucking that sentence right out of your throat.

And the answer was simple: he didn’t want you to answer. He looks over at the shuffling shadows through the door screen—apologies, he should’ve emphasized. He didn’t want you to answer. “Oi.”

Toji barks out, and you could see the elders physically flinch at being addressed.

He smirks, “How about ya answer it f’me?” It almost makes you shy to hear your husband speaking to them while he was absolutely ruining your insides with his cock- tone breathy, hips smacking yours in an obvious background music to what you two were doing. “What exactly is a mating press used for?”

There’s a silence- and then a noise.

A slight whisper of an answer that only Toji’s extra-honed ears, trained through years of his Heavenly Restriction, manage to pick up. He’s nodding his head down at you, “That’s right?”

“What’d they say, Toji?”

“Oh—you wanna know what they said?” He’s cooing down at you—cute, cute, cute. Your lips were wobbling adorably whenever he grazes the rounded flare of his tip near your g-spot.

“Yes-” You’re nodding, “Yes, please-”

“Louder?”

“Yes, please—”

Loud enough that it rings across all four corners of the heady chamber, saturated with sex. “Good girl.” And Toji snickers as he pulls your restless body once more down to his- and as if that wasn’t enough, he’s craning his head down and blowing against your left ear. “A good girl that’s gonna get fucked full of my heir soon.”

An heir.

An heir.

So that was what it was used for - not that you didn’t know, or couldn’t have guessed. But just hearing your husband himself utter the very words made your pupils shape into heart eyes.

Staring up at him lovingly.

Toji was pounding your cunt against the mattress as though he was furious at you- and the constant creaking noise almost made you embarrassed. It was proof that he was fucking you had and rough. That he was pinning you down with one ruthless hand and shovelling you with every inch of his thickened length, swervin’ the nerves of your g-spot. “Even they approve.”

You’re snapped out of your dreamy little reverie, “Wh-what?”

“Even they approve.” Toji cocks his head down at you with a smile, “And I don’t give a fuck what they have to say about me- but if there’s anything I—ngh, am, it’s that I’m a man of my word.”

“And so…?”

But he merely glides his hand down your belly, feeling for that cute sensitive spot where Toji was rubbin’ your cervix raw. There was such an openly loving look on his face as he stared down at your body. “And so welcome baby Zenin—” Hyphenated with your family’s last name.

Toji shudders as he fucks you.

To be quite honest, he didn’t think that the thought of having an heir would affect him so much - he never has been one to be so hellbent on carrying the family name. Hell, he’d have been happy to take your last name.

But it was the vision of you all pregnant and plump and glowing—

Now that could do something to a man.

And it’s sending a thrill across Toji’s veins to see the tummy bulge he hammered into you, almost as if a little teaser for what was to come. He presses down on your stomach once more as he eases in and out, in and out. “Gonna be the prettiest momma f’me, right?” He’s grumbling out through his large canines, snarled as though he wanted to bite into that pretty lil’ throat of yours. “Gonna suck Toji Zenin dry and keep all my cum inside that- ngh, pretty pussy? S’that what yer gonna do? Suck me dry—?”

“Y-yes-”

“Louder, darlin.” He interrupts you, “I need them to hear their madam.”

“Yes—”

As a little reward, you’re getting Toji’s fat thumb spankin’ down on your clit. He rolls the pad of it over and over that spot- “And the madam is gonna be the one overspilling niiiiight after night while I fuck you pregnant, right? Gonna be the one that won’t even be able to move once I’m done with ya because you’re gonna be, mmm, too fucking full?”

“Yes, please-” Your voice was barely a whisper. And Toji pinches your clit until you manage to raise your warbling tone.

“Gonna be my poor baby with all that sickness, aw?” He’s fauxing out a pout- one that makes you bite on his scarred lips. How rude. “Don’t worry- I’ll massage those pretty feet of yours when the time comes, I’ll paint yer pretty nails, I’ll toy with that pussy- heh.”

“Is that even…”

“Gonna be my bossy lady, aren’t ya? Gonna order me around and make me get every pregnancy cravin’ ya want- as you should.” He’s chuckling at the mere notion of it, so sweet on his brain. “Gonna be asking me to fuck you all over again when those pregnancy hormones hit, huh? And then…”

“And then?” You eagerly ask.

He leans down to whisper - just for you, this time. Not any audience. “Then - if you want - I’ve gotta fuck you with our second kid all over again, huh?”

Your jaw drops.

But Toji continues - his hips and his fingers and his words. “And then a third.” He plummets his thoroughly swollen tip once more against your g-spot - so hard that it sets the crowns of your teeth on edge. “A fourth.” Another.

“Shit-”

“A…” Toji trails off, his dazed head raising blearily towards the sliding doors. “How are we feelin’ about five kids, eh?”

Whatever they answer makes him smile.

“You heard it, momma.” He gutturally moans, “M’gonna cum inside this cute cunt- fuck, m’gonna cum inside and pump you all fuuuuuull.”

Your heels attempt to find purchase on his sculptured back, and you’re kicking madly because of the sheer force of pleasure coursing through you - though, of course, to a man with Heavenly Restriction it feels like nothing but kitten punches. “T-Toji…”

He smiles like he already knew what you were about to say, “Yes?”

“Toji, m’gonna…”

“Cum, huh?” He’s narrowing his sultry eyes down at you, “And do you think she deserves to cum?”

For a second there, you think he’s almost talking to you - and you’re wondering just what he was talking about…before the shuffling and murmurs from beyond the sliding doors catch your attention. “You’re seriously asking them—”

“Ah ah-” Toji hums, “The council is in session.”

You couldn’t believe your damn ears- and you’re getting lost in Toji’s aggressive strokes for some time. Looooong and hard and driving your pupils into the back of your skull. Before Toji’s hand suddenly comes slamming down atop your pussylips-

“And can ya guess what the council has decided for you, madam?” Toji grins from ear-to-ear, “Hm?”

“I-I don’t—oh.” He’s pinching your clit hard enough to make you see stars.

“They’ve decided that you can cum.”

Hard enough to make you reach your high all at once. 

It’s shuddering through your body in waves, and you find your hips arching damn-near completely off of the bed. Toji has his cock stuffed in you deep and his fingers squeezing your clit through each throb of your high. 

It was harder than the last one.

Mind-baffling. 

Earth-shattering.

It was as if a warmth had flooded through your entire being, and Toji was only heating up the temperature a few notches with each probe of his cock. His flared tip swabs down the sides of your g-spot every single time - and Toji was more than happy to send your body twitching each time he did so. 

More than happy to watch the waves of your high turn out to be splashes—

You were squirting.

“Hear that—?” He calls out breathlessly, above the liquidy noises emanating from between your legs. The volume of your sap clearly drenched your legs and left his cock soaked. Thoroughly soaked. “She’s fucking—oh, she’s…” He fucks you through your high with roughened grunts, “Fuck- fuck.”

It left you salivating and unable to string together a full sentence- your arms wrapping tight around Toji’s neck to kiss him. “Want it-”

“Hmmmm?”

“Want you to cum inside me now, Toji.” You’re begging up at him, batting your tear-stained lashes. Pulling him in even closer, “Please?”

“Cheh-” He snickers- though even through that smug demeanour, you could feel the animalistic flinch of his cockhead deep at your innards. He was unravelling as well. “I’m gonna cum in-haaah, inside you- of course m’gonna cum inside you, my wife.”

Toji funnels into you so hard that the crowned top of your head hits the headboard.

“Gonna cum inside you and feel it in your womb-” Toji snarls out, his blushin’ tip starting to trickle out in something hot and gooey. “Gonna give these needy walls of yours something ta really hold onto- gonna have her sucking me dry.” And you swear you could see tears glittering in his dark eyes. “Gonna pump you so full that you have no option other than to- hah, overspill. But oh, don’t worry, my madam, when you overspill your husband will be riiiiight here-”

You hiccup, “Please-”

“-to fuck it right back in again.”

It’s then that you’re really feeling the full force of Toji’s high - because he empties out thiiiiick and miry ribbons of cum that puddle at the back of your pussy. So much of it. So much being poured out. They were just so sticky, with a salted caramel taste that you swear sizzles at the back of your throat.

Muscular back arching.

Eyes shuttering.

His heavy balls hitting your cunt with a thwack-thwack-thwack!

He digs his feet into the springy mattress and arches into you through each peak of his high, dragging his veiny cock right through it. Your velvety walls were just perfect to elongate the feeling of his airy sensation, and Toji can’t help but let out husky groans as he gets lost in the feeling—fuck, he didn’t even know that he could cum this much.

Trickling into you like honey.

Toji glides a hand down your front and feels for that little tummy bulge that was once there- now all bloated with his sheer white sap.

But it’s almost as if it was refusing to stop by this point, and Toji can only swat his ruby-red tip against the deepest depth of your cervix and thank her for taking it all. His eyes fluttering open and shut as he attempts to clear his damn mind.

You’re biting down on your tongue, tears exploding behind your eyes. “Sh-shit, it feels so good.” Pressing your lips to his scarred ones, so familiar now. “Toji, you feel so good.”

He shivers.

“Fuck, we’re gonna make a cute baby.”

Before…Toji Zenin doesn’t stop.

In fact, you learn that he doesn’t stop - and you don’t want him to - even past your second round. Your third round. Your fourth round. Your fifth round.

Toji might have had all those delicacies before him during your wedding reception, but it was here between your legs that he couldn’t stop going back for seconds. Filling you again and again and again- it was by the sixth round that the bed frame had completely broken. And by the eight that he’d stopped taking you on the shattered mattress and fucked you on the polished wood of the floor.

Just two feet away from the sliding doors, your head was being pushed up and up and uuuuuup towards it. As he just kept on thumpin’ his rotund red tip into the base of your pussy until the sun started to rise.

Taking you on all fours this time—doggy style, with a mean headlock gripping your throat.

And the elders outside were slouched and fatigued, if their shadows were anything to go by.

And you yourself was just so sensitive-

“Where’d you think you’re going, madam—?” You’re feeling Toji dragging you down into his beefy arms before you even understand his question - before you even realize that your feet had already planted on the wooden panels and had started to push off. It was as if your body couldn’t decide whether you wanted to bounce up more into his ruinous length, or to bounce away for your own sanity-

He helps you make a choice - and that was by grabbing onto the column of your throat with his biceps and raising your muddled head up to his. Kissing you, “Are we sure it’s even taken, yet?”

“Yes—” You’re babbling out over…the murmurs of a council that agreed immensely. They themselves were sure that their clan leader would continue until the end of time if possible. “Yes, it’s taken- it’s-”

“But are we- sure-” Each word punctuated by a thorough slash of his puckered pink tip.

He was so sensitive by this point that Toji himself was leaking his ivory sap out like no other- not enough space inside you for all of it. It froths down the middle of your cunt and creates such a gooey mess—“Yes.”

“Mmmm, well anything you say, madam.” He’s humming out. Pussydrunk. “But are we really-”

“Toji Zenin.”

The clan leader shudders, “I love it when you do that.” He kisses you with a rather loud smack, “I love you—”

And he doesn’t feel a shred of regret in the world for what he’s just confessed. Always wanted to confess.

“Always have.” Toji swallows, looking deep into your dazed eyes. “Always will- and I tried—oh, how I tried to get to you. But it was never enough. How I imagined holding you and loving you all these years but…but I understand if you don’t feel remotely the same, and if the council’s distance b-between us has already changed your mind on-”

“Toji Zenin.” He shuts up and looks down at you- only to be greeted by your smile. Head turned over your shoulder to keep staring at him. His own scarred lips turn up into a grin, green eyes twinkling. “Come here and kiss me, my husband.”

And so he wastes no time.

Murmuring into your mouth.

Pulling away for a split-second.

Raising his meaty thigh up and pressing the heel of his foot straight on top of your head- “Should we ask those damn old toads for baby names now?”

.

.

.

“Toji Zenin.”

You’d repeated, all those twenty years ago when you met him for the first time.

And for the first time, said Toji Zenin could feel his heart give a little…lurch.

How strange—he clasps at his small chest through his yukata as he watches you leave for your mother with a final wave. How strange, indeed.

The door closes and a little boy with green eyes and a scar is left sitting in the darkness, hoping you’ll visit him again.

.

.

.

The door opens.

What could buy a small apartment in Tokyo, barely the size of your closet, could buy an entire home in Hokkaido. Modest yet spacious. 

With an arched doorway and the curious guest of vines growing down the side of the house,peeking its leafy little head inside in the presence of dim yellow light. A stone pathway zig-zagging through the foliage to lead one right inside. A roof the color of a pastel green that marked it out from the others around it. A plumage of flowers - roses and tulips and lavender - each lifted their head up at the rays of early morning sunlight—this was why Toji had picked this place out.

It was somewhere no one would find you.

With enough space for three people.

You keep a hand on top of your growing belly and take in the scenery around you,as if a moving post card. After your wedding night, Toji had forgone what all the elders said and given you the choice on what you wanted to do in case of a real pregnancy. Taking you to the doctor to know every option in-depth. And, at the end of the day, well…

It hadn’t been easy to run away from the Zenin clan - let alone burn their whole estate down. Carrying only with you your most essential belongings, your wedding dress, and enough money to last the two of you four lifetimes - but Toji still would insist on working. 

It hadn’t been easy.

But you had done it.

The both of you- you had done it.

And through your fingertips were still slightly charred from the remnants of ash and memories, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more free in your life-

A jingle of keys.

While you had been basking in the natural world outside, Toji had gone ahead and opened the door to your new home. He’s staring softly at you from inside, smile crooked, large frame leaned against the door frame.

“What?” You ask him in slight amusement.

He shakes his head and quietly passes you the keys.

They were like any other - a set of glinting keys that had a little tag on them. It was one of those tags people attached to the schoolbags of their children (speaking of, was it too early to start looking into those now?) and at the top of its white face was written—your name. First and maiden last.

And then Toji—not Zenin.

Rather…

You look up at him with glistening eyes, “You took my last name?”

He nods, eyes slightly downturned. “I did- just before we left I handed in the paperwork.” Taking a long pause, “I apologize that I’m no longer your Toji Zenin-”

You’re cutting him off by throwing your arms ‘round his neck and pulling him in for an embrace. Toji steadies you easily, hands automatically then gliding down to your swollen stomach. “You never need to apologize to me for not being Toji Zenin, my love.”

“I see…” He’s clutching you even tighter, while the garden chirps around you two. Slightly choked up, “That reminds me- we need to pick out a name for our son, too, huh?”

Ah yes- a day before you left, the doctor had confirmed that you two would be having a son. A little boy. An heir to the Zenin clan. 

Those days, you just couldn’t help but think of another little boy with the weight of being an heir on his shoulders, sitting alone in a dark room with a bleeding scar.

But now you smile, “All in good time. Though I do have some ideas in mind.” Toji did, too, and you giggle as you think of the little notebook he’d been secretly writing down names in - one at the very top circled ‘Megumi’. 

“Mhmmm.” He’s looking at you with those eyes, green like the gardens of the Zenin Estate - but now green like the gardens of your home here. Toji looks so serene—you should’ve known that your boisterous husband wouldn’t let that tranquil air last too long.

His scarred lips lift up in a smirk, hand gliding across your pregnant belly. And you already know-

“Toji…”

“How about we start practicing for the second, huh?”

A/N. AWWWW I LOB HIM- feel like making a whole series for him now lowk.

You love being affectionate in ways that make him roll his eyes—doodling on his big arms with pen, kissing the corner of his frown until it breaks into a smile, sticking flowers in his hair. He always mutters “you’re a brat,” but never pushes you away. In fact, you catch him leaving the doodles on his arm until he showers, and sometimes you’ll find that same flower sitting on the counter later, tucked where you’ll notice it. He’s bad at saying sweet things, but he shows them in these quiet, almost clumsy ways that mean more than words.

You trip over your own feet or laugh too hard at your own jokes, and he shakes his head like you’re something hopeless and stupid. But the second you stumble, his hand is right there, steadying you without thinking. You babble about the smallest things—a funny video, a dog you saw on the street, a silly thought you had and he listens, grunting responses, pretending he’s not invested. But later, he’ll repeat something back to you, proving he caught every word. It drives you crazy how his “grumpy old man” routine can’t hide the fact that he’s completely wrapped around your finger.

Toji pretends he doesn’t care about “lazy days,” but you notice he always lingers in bed with you a little longer on Sundays. He lays there with his arm thrown over his eyes, sighing every time you climb all over him at 8 am in the morning. You’ll sit on his stomach while chatting about your week, and he groans, “You weigh a damn ton”. But when you roll off, he immediately hooks an arm around your waist and drags you back. By the time you’re watching movies on his chest, he’s tracing absent circles on your thigh, murmuring that maybe Sundays aren’t so bad after all.

He comes home grumbling—keys thrown on the counter, shoulders heavy and tired from the long, exhausting day. You’re already hurrying over, hugging him around the middle and sinking into the warmth of his body, and he mutters, “Give me five minutes, kid”. But when you tug his jacket off, fussing at him to sit down while you heat up dinner, he sits there quietly, watching you move around the kitchen. He doesn’t say it but having someone so eager to take care of him after a long day makes his chest ache in a good way. Later, he’ll wordlessly pull you onto his lap while he eats, and feeds you from his plate, muttering, “Eat with me,” as if it’s not an unspoken thank you.

You chatter while chopping vegetables, telling him a long time story, and Toji just stares at you boredly with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a sigh every time you almost nick your finger. “Move over,” he finally grunts, taking the knife and finishing the job in half the time. You pout about him “stealing your fun,” but he shoves a piece of cut cucumber into your mouth, smirking when you glare and pout at him. Sometimes you get cheeky and press up against his back while he’s focused, arms clinging around his waist, cheek smushed to his hard, broad shoulder. He sighs like you’re distracting him, but his hands slow, letting you cling.

You love climbing into his lap when he’s watching TV. At first, he complains: “Can’t see the damn screen with your big ass head in the way,” But when you squirm around like a worm, adjusting yourself until you’re comfortable, his big hands land and clamp on your hips, holding you still so you’re planted firmly. You nuzzle into his warm chest—stealing all his warmth while rambling about whatever show’s on, until you realize the heavy press to something under you. He quietly grumbles, “You always gotta move around so much?” but he doesn’t let you off his lap, even as his cock thickens against you, and is throbbing with need directly under your pussy. It’s like his cock can smell the scent of your cunt the second it’s seated on his lap. You tease that he secretly likes it, and his scowl deepens — though his hands squeeze your waist a little harder to hold you down on it.

You’re a blanket thief, always rolling over to cocoon yourself in the sheets, and Toji curses under his breath every night. But when you fall asleep pressed against his side, drooling a little, he’s the one sneaking the blanket over you. If you get restless and start poking at him in the middle of the night, he flips you onto your stomach, muttering, “The only way you’re gonna shut up is if I wear you out”. The weight of his body and muscles pins you down to the mattress, the low rumble of his laugh against your ear making your shiver as he teases you and purposely rubbing his erection between the cleft of your cheeks—the hard tent digging into your fluttering pussy, making you whimper and beg for more fiction.

Sometimes you’d drag him out for a walk in the evening, rambling about the stars or pointing out dogs on the street. He sighs, acting like he’d rather be anywhere else, but his hand never leaves yours. When you start skipping, he annoyingly sighs while dragging his palm down his face, “You’re embarrassing me,” but his lips twitch into a faint smile when you twirl around in front of him, your hair catching the streetlights and all he sees is an Angel. And when you wrap your arms around his neck out of nowhere, pulling him down to your height, and planting a kiss to his mean frown, he mutters, “You’re annoying,” even as his hands drop to grip your ass, and pull you closer so your bodies could be pressed together.

He dozes off on the couch, his arms folded against his chest, his brow furrowed meanly even in sleep. You tiptoe over, carefully crawling into the crook of his side, trying to be gentle and not wake him. He stirs instantly, one eye cracking open. “Can’t even nap without you crawling all over me,” he grumbles like a mean old man, but his arm immediately hooks around you to keep you there so you two can nap together. Minutes later, you hear his soft snore, his grip not loosening once.

You’re sunshine to everyone—smiling at waiters, joking with the guy bagging groceries and Toji acts like he doesn’t care at the moment. But the second you get home, and the front door shuts—he’s crowding you against the door, both of his hands on either sides of your head to keep you caged in by his body. “You enjoy giving your pretty smiles to every damn guy, huh?” His big hands move to dig into your hips as your laugh bubbles out. He always ends up kissing you harshly, his tongue invading your mouth and meanly dominating yours like he’s staking his claim and before you know it, he’s lifting you up and fucking you right against the door till you’re chanting, “All yours— ‘m all yours!”.

You love riding him stupid, giggling with every bounce while his big hands comes down to squeeze your waist, trying to slow you down. “You’re gonna split yourself in half, sweetheart,” he warns, sweat dripping down his temples and onto his jaw. But the second you whine, “Feels sooo good, Toji,” his whole body shudders. He grips tighter—trying to take control while breathing hard, “Goddamn it, kid, you’re gonna kill me,” before slamming his cock up into you until you’re crying. He pretends to be annoyed when you act like this, but he can’t hide how much it gets him off when your energy pushes him over the edge.

The bastard barked out a laugh, husky and rough, his chest shaking under your handiwork. “Oh, that’s cute. You grading me like I’m in kindergarten?” His fingers flexed, a big hand reaching to you and sliding up your bare thigh. “One fucking star? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm,” you teased, pressing your palm against his pec, squishing the star you stamped there, while clutching the stamp protectively to your chest with your other hand. “One-star performance”.

His grin sharpened. “Bet”.

The next thing you knew, he had you flat on your back again, his mouth locked on your throat, kissing and sucking deep bruises while his half-hard cock forced its way back into your sloppy cunt—like he hadn’t just fucked the life out of you minutes before. Every orgasm he tore out of you after that came with a demand for proof—his hand clamping around your wrist, dragging it down to slap the stamp against his chest himself. “That’s two,” he grunted, breath rough against your ear. “Don’t half-ass it”.

By the third, you were crying from the overstimulation, tears streaking your face as your trembling hand smeared more stars across his pecs and collarbone. He hitched your thighs higher, folding you nearly in half so he could drive his heavy weight into every brutal slam of his hips, teeth flashing in the dark. “Three stars, kid,” he rasped, pride rough in his voice. “Almost an honor roll student”.

By the fourth, even he was breathless, fresh sweat dripping down his temples where dark strands of hair clung to his skin. Still, he had the nerve to rasp, “Stamp it. Go on. Daddy worked hard for that one”. Your hand shook so badly you nearly fumbled the stamp, weakly pressing it against his slick skin as your body quivered beneath him.

By the fifth, your hand was shaking so badly the star came out crooked, smeared halfway across his hardened nipple. He glanced down at himself—chest littered with red stamps like some deranged report card—and he actually lost it, a sharp snort breaking through his grin.

“Five fucking stars,” he wheezed, still buried deep as he hauled you tight against his chest to hug you. His laugh was rough, half-breathless as he nuzzled into your hair. “Look at me… I’m a goddamn gold star student”.

You were laughing too hard to catch your breath, even with your body wrecked and trembling, and your mind all fucked out, your bury your face against his broad shoulder. Still, you sloppily managed to lift the stamp and press it to his chest one more time—out of pure spite.

“Six,” you whispered while biting your lips. “Extra credit”.

you roll your eyes, ready to argue — but then he spits on your cunt and sucks your clit into his mouth like it’s the only thing he’s hungry for. your thighs tightening around his head, the textbook slipping from your grasp. you scramble to keep it upright.

“read,” he mutters, voice muffled. “you know i have to pass.” he pulls back just a bit and you shiver at the sight of your juices on his face.

“and don’t drop the fucking book on my head, brat.”

“maybe you’ll get all the answers the- sukuna!”

his tongue dips into your hole, curling, dragging back out — cutting you off completely. you clench around his tongue, your hips rocking forward instinctively. chasing the friction.

he chuckles. you groan.

“what is the first question, smartass?” he smirks, kissing the inside of your thigh — soft and slow. his fingers digging into you hard, your hips twitching.

your fingers shake as you try to remember how to read — the textbook feeling like cement from how heavy it is in your hands.

“n- name the polic— fuck..” eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack — no sound coming out. just sukuna’s tongue finding its way back, lazily gliding through your folds.

your hips roll in slow, desperate circles. grinding against his face. his tongue speeding up just a bit. chasing after that pressure. wanting, needing more. your orgasm is coiling hot and fast in your gut.

you’re still trying to keep the textbook steady.

slap!

your thigh stings from his hand just met it. his tongue gliding sweetly through your folds — a stark contrast.

cheeks hot, eyes narrowed. “which made it illegal f-for any foreigners to enter jap-?”

“sakoku,” he growls into your pussy — his mouth immediately latching back onto your clit, tongue flicking hard and fast.

slurping from sukuna, intelligible strings of words from you, and the thud from the textbook hitting his pillow (just shy from his head) are the only sounds that could be heard.

your (now) free hand reaches for the headboard. soft whimpers slipping from your lips.

he tightens his grip on your thighs, fingers heavy and hot. and he grinds your cunt down onto his mouth. his nose grazing your clit the perfect amount.

your legs quiver, your pussy throbs, and suddenly, all that tension snaps like a rubber band.

“c-c-correct,” you pant, completely wrecked. you’re trying not to fall over. your orgasm rocking through you like how sukuna tackles players on the field — hard, hot, and angry.

“see?” he murmurs, “your pussy is a good teacher.” lips barely ghosting your folds. and all you could do is moan.

and then he goes right back in — groaning into you, eating through your spasms, tongue still working like he’s trying to pull another one out of you.

you’re a twitching mess — babbling and drooling. the answers for the test are long gone from your mind.

then he pulls back with a wet pop, spit and slick all over his chin and nose. smug grin on his face, all confident.

“next question, nerd,” he groans, voice muffled by your pussy as he pulls you back down. “you’re supposed to be helping me pass.”