everything im too afraid to say

99.96%.

‘Oh’ was right.

Just his name sends a thrill down your spine.

Your fists clench in your lap, and before you know it, you’re nodding at the woman. “I would…like to meet him, please.”

.

.

.

Name: Fushiguro Toji

Age: ?*

Occupation: ??

Category: DILF

Primary likings: Rough. Manhandling. Doggy. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 8 onwards…)

*Got offended when asked (assumed mid-thirties).

One date that lasts about an hour.

One date that lasts about an hour - that’s all it takes for the boiling tension between you and ‘Mr. Fushiguro Toji’ to bubble over. Perhaps it was due to the shared knowledge that you two were scientifically identified to be perfect sexual matches, perhaps it was the way those vine-green eyes swept over you leisurely, appreciatively, as you walked into the romantic dinner date arranged by the agency.

It seems Toji had entered himself into the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT on accident after believing it was a normal matchmaking agency.

“—so imagine my surprise when I get there n’ all the questions are about what positions I like to stick my dick in?” He’d gruffed over the candlelit dinner - French cuisine, was it? A few of the other patrons glared at him, but Toji paid no attention. “I mean- I went along with it, of course. Already paid about twenty yen, hmpf…but I hadn’t actually planned to go through with this bullshit until-”

Those intense eyes of his flickered to you once more.

“-I saw that application of yours- of course.” And you felt the inchoate desire in your stomach give a strange twist—“A 99.6-”

“99.96%. Actually.” You interrupted, gnawing on your bottom lip.

“Interesting.” Toji smiled and leaned back into his chair. “Really interesting.”

And perhaps it was—

“Don’t tell me I’ve fucked ya speechless already when I haven’t even put it in?”

You’re snapping back to your senses- enough reminiscing about those first few minutes of meeting the man that was currently hugging you close to him - crushing you against his sultry sweat-sticky abs - not in a gentle display of affection, but such a lecherous embrace. Tacking his toned pelvis against your ass. Letting his engorged tip push-push-push between your pussylips and sliiiiiiiide down all those tender innards. 

Toji keeps you from moving even a single inch as he shuffles you into doggy position. The bed whines just as you do. “S’this your favorite?” He watches from the corner of his eye as you nod. “Yeahhhh, mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”

And, in emphasis, he’s circling one roughened palm over your right ass cheek—giving just a brazen little smack. 

“Mine fuckin’ too, girlie.” 

“I mean, there’s a reason they matched us.” You huff at him.

“Yeah- and I’m about to find out.” Toji mutters. And you’re hearing him before anything else - the soft creaking! of that shitty love hotel bed, dipping, as he shuffles even closer—the sultry lil’ smooch of his wet tip kissing your hole. Thump-thump-thump—you can count every pulse. His or yours? “Bite the pillow.”

“Why would I need to- ohhhh, mpf-”

The answer to your question comes swift and merciless - because in one fluid motion Toji has his cocktip burgeoning inside, and his hips plastering to yours. 

He keeps both hands - warm and slightly gnarled with callouses from whatever shady line of business he was in - firmly upon either side of your waist. Using his massive strength to jerk you back—just a little…But it feels like Toji was pumping thoroughly into your deepest core.

He was usin’ the little flare underneath his tip to stretch that snug channel- stretching and stretching that first ring of muscle. And then bashing his cockhead in so roughly that you start to wonder whether he was having issues controlling himself—you’re feeling Toji let out a little cracked groan as he feels your walls quiver around him. And then he’s pushing his hot cock in aaaaaaall the way as deep as it could go- “Aaaaaaatta girl. That’s a good girl. Now for the fun part…” 

You furrow your brows half-heartedly. “This isn’t already the fun part?” Earning yourself the oh-so-lascivious punishment of yet another spank on your right cheek; and then a few more probin’ pushes of his cock. “I was just—oh-” Your toes curl as he hits a particularly good spot without even trying.

“It is.” Toji responds. “But it’s just about to get a whole lot more fun.”

You’re shivering as one of his fingertips paint the line down your spine, immediately followed by a string of kisses as far as he could go. But, of course, you never did expect Fushiguro Toji to be so gentle—did you? You never wanted him to be, did you?

Because his lips hover ‘round the soft skin of your right shoulder—and without warning, he’s biting. Your mouth opens in a soundless scream.

With a grunt that sounds as though it’s been dragged from the primal depths of his throat, Toji jerks your hips back into his with a plap! of skin-on-skin. And almost before that, he’s suddenly starting to pummel and pummel those rugged hips of his into yours, utterly molding his thick cock into your goopy insides- coating every inch with a layer of his slick—

“Because.” Toji gruffs out in an animalistic way - he angles his head and licks a long stripe up your neck. “Because- it took me a loooooooong time to get matched on that damn program. A long fuckin’ time.”

“Oh-” You’re yelping as he tugs your arms from underneath you- and you’re collapsing face-first into the soft strawberry-scented pillows. Collapsed doggy. 

And before you know it, Toji straightens up and lets the heel of one of his feet rest on the corner of your shoulder. “Tch- way too fucking long.” This angle lets his cock penetrate even deeper, and his bouldering tip pushes into every single slick-filled orifice inside. “How long should it take to find a pretty babe f’me who likes it rough—” And he fucks you rough. “-who likes it hard—” And he fucks you hard. “-who likes me disrespectin’ this pussy like she deserves. Now how hard should that be, hm?”

And you’re unsure whether he was genuinely expecting a response or not - but you’re letting out a blabber of something you hope is comprehensible either way. “I—mmm, notthathard-”

“Exactly.” Toji huffs out a short breath of laughter. Then his hands are on you—pushing on the base of your spine and arching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

“O-ohhhhhh, harder-”

“Thought you said it wasn’t that hard? And throw in a little manhandling-” Arching. “Just a little dumbification.” Making you drool. He reaches his foot - just a little, just softly - up to put pressure on near your neck n’ restrict your air flow—he leaves you gasping and choking with every thrust. “A little choking- heh.” He looks you over. “Maybe a few daddy issues-”

“Hey!”

“And then you’ve got it. Perfectly matching. Now that shouldn’t be so hard, hm?”

But you can’t quite answer.

Because Toji’s fucking you so good- he’s thrusting his cock into yours like he wants his pelvis melded to yours ass. He’s crushing and draaaagging your limp body down the bed and into his strong arms. 

It’s almost as if your bodies are communicating with a secret language, because whenever you’re bouncing back he’s angling juuuust right to swab into your g-spot, when you’re jerking forwards he’s chasin’ after that syrupy-sweet pussy of yours. Candied with glittering globs of his pre. 

Creating a swatting sound so loud, creating a pressure between your legs so hard, that your ears start ringing—“Oh, p-please…”

“And y’know the only difference between you and me?” Toji’s still steamrolling his dirty sentences- and you can barely blink your eyes open past all the pleasure he’s giving you. But you must manage to make some noise of question, because he continues. “That agency categorized me as a DILF. And you’re no MILF…yet.”

A shockwave runs down your spine.

“Th-that means…”

Toji leans in and huffs. Clammy breath. “So that profile said something about a breeding kink?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 100.1% (?) MATCH!

“You’ve done it. I’m ah…not quite sure how- but you’ve done it.” Dr. Shoko breathes. And although the words are in her usual impervious tone of voice, there’s a quiver there at the end that, after weeks of appointments with the doctor, you’ve learned to pick out as foreign. 

Dr. Ieiri Shoko never wavers.

You’re leaning in and attempting to peek at your file. “Is there something wrong, doctor?”

“Not unless you count breaking the program’s metric wrong.” She slides over the file - face down as though the documents inside would snap at her if she wasn’t careful - and you’re immediately flipping it open. Your eyes widen as they’re immediately drawn to the bold, underlined number of a 100.1% match shown at the top of the first page—you’re then meeting Shoko’s own widened gaze.

“Huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Shoko opens her drawer and takes out two caplets of Extra Strength Tylenol and chugs them down—no water. She closes her eyes for a second to let them pass down her slender throat, and once she opens them again she’s immediately looking down at the file - as if hoping it had disappeared in the time. 

But no such luck for Dr. Ieiri Shoko today.

She lets out a prolonged sigh and leans back in her chair. Enough time has passed that the two of you could forgo such formalities in the presence of the other, “I just…I just don’t know how that could happen. Mathematically and scientifically, it just doesn’t make sense. And yet, the program never makes a mistake- never.”

You understood her plight - you’d looked over (and passed on) your fair share of matches, and the highest you’d gotten was a 78% match with some guy called Atsumu Miya—you just had this nagging feeling that you’d find a greater match.

A stronger…chemistry with someone else.

And so you’d passed. And passed. And passed, until you were starting to feel that perhaps you’d never find a match greater than the 90% or even 80% statistics that the site often boasted. That is until…

Name: Nanami Kento

Age: 27

Occupation: Office worker

Category: Gentleman with a big D.

Primary likings: Service dom. Fitting. Milk him. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 9 onwards…)

Your eyes linger on those last two words of his Primary Likings section: milk him…

And immediately you’re feeling a thrill shoot up between your legs—causing them to squeeze together, causing Shoko’s eyes to quickly flicker down at the miniscule action. “Hm.” She types something on her keyboard - and you assume she’s shooting an email to one of the matchmakers in the program. “Maybe that’s what they mean by a match of 100.1%…”

White-hot embarrassment curls around your heart. “What? Oh, you’re incorrigible-”

“And you’re glad.” She smirks. “This is what you’re been waiting all this time for, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes…” You’re looking down at the passport-sized photo of Nanami on the front page. It was seemingly some sort of office photo he must’ve used in his resumes as well; and there he stood all sharp and aloof - almost bored - in a form-fitting suit and his blond hair pushed back smoothly, deep-set eyes almost piercing through the photocopied paper. Like an utter gentleman. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”

.

.

.

“It’s okay, darling, you don’t have to take it all—”

“But I want to, Kento.”

There’s something so sensual - so utterly fucking erotic - about the way Nanami looks when he’s on the verge of pussydrunkness. Sprawled out on the love hotel mattress. Jawline dotted with your recently-made hickies. His thick thighs are tensing and untensing—just as you’re straddlin’ his hips just a little wider and taking in Nanami’s rock-hard, drippin’ wet cock.

A meek blush creeps up the man’s cheeks once you cup them.

You’re lifting Nanami’s handsome face up to meet yours, and keep such looong, loving eye contact as you’re sliding your hips down and gulping one more inch after inch. Thick inch after inch. 

The poor man’s breath catches and he’s letting out a little whimper as Nanami’s hot girth fills you up tantalizingly. “Oh sh-shit—”

Your body arches into his. “Mmm, with such a big, pretty cock like this - how could I not?”

“P-pretty…” He repeats. Those golden-hazel eyes of his widen behind his glasses, and you swear you see them welling up with tears as you take him. “But darling, what if it’s too big?”

“It could never be too big.” You cock your head with a sultry smile. “We’re a 100.1% match, remember? That means…”

In emphasis, you’re swervin’ your hips down in a semi-circular motion that makes him drive even deeper.

“-every part of us matches.”

And then poor Nanami Kento - overworked, underpaid, going off of nothing but instant coffee and the smell of freshly-baked bread from the bakery near the office - is being ridden to heaven by your devilish hips. Up and down. Up and down. The way you’re digging your nails into his shoulders…the way you’re pushing your nipples up against his pecs, rubbing…the way you’re clenchin’ around his tip - right where he was the reddest and hottest and most sensitive - every time he probes inside.

A too-loud moan erupts from his lips—and Nanami immediately attempts to clamp his mouth shut.

But there’s no use. You’re watching with a knowing smile as you’re fucking such lasvicious moans n’ ribbons of spittle out of him. With every single squeeze. 

Spit drips down the side of his mouth- and he shivers as you lean in and lick it away. “S-so that means…” He whispers. Almost to himself. Those pretty eyes of his keep starin’ down lovingly at the area you two were connected. “-this lovely lady is made for me?”

“If by ‘lovely lady’, you’re referring to my pussy…” You reply coyly. You throw your arms around him and tug on those precious golden curls at the nape of his neck. It makes a sexy grunt escape Nanami’s lips. “Then why don’t you find out?”

And Nanami doesn’t know why- he can’t help himself.

It’s just like…the more times he’s thrusting inside your cunt, semi-thrusts, the deeper he’s delving between those sweet pussylips, the more addicted he’s getting to it.

He’s reaching up and pressing down where he was fitting inside.

“Oh.” Nanami’s eyes grow heavy. Drunk on lust. A twinge of pain runs up your core as he squeezes a mere inch more, “Oh. I-is this okay?”

“Keep going.”

And he’s stretching you so much you can’t even begin to describe—

“Shiiiiit-”

“Does it hurt? I hope it doesn’t hurt-”

“No no- oh, more-”

“It’s true—” He spits. Beads of sweat plaster his temple, and his features twitch in pure carnal ecstasy as you squeeze your pretty legs tighter around him. A vein makes itself prominent on his neck. “Fuck, it’s true- she’s taking me so well-”

With a single thumb, he spreads apart your pussylips n’ watches his inches slip inside.

“And she’s so hungry for it, too.” Nanami looks up at you. “Do you think she’s been hungry for it all this time, my love? My cock?”

“Oh, I bet.” Throwing your head back—you’re practically plastered against Nanami’s surprisingly toned front. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, please- Kento—”

“Anything for you.”

And to be honest, Nanami Kento never saw himself as the wild type in bed. 

For starters, he was a busy man—spreedsheets were his regular partner, and powerpoints were his mistress. And perhaps that was the exact reason Shoko, his lifelong friend, had signed him up for this stupid program. As much as Nanami had howled and huffed about the ethics of signing one’s friend up for this and ‘but he needs to work that day so he doesn’t need to do overtime…’ lo and behold there he found you.

Well, more like you found him.

Showing up so pretty and perfect for your first meeting in Shoko’s office—and when he’d seen that match measurement of 100.1%…Nanami felt a sudden flare of madness: that perhaps this entire thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Your second meeting had been in this cramped love hotel. 

And Nanami had meant to wine and dine you- he’d meant to…but here he was. Hand clamoring to clasp either side of your hips - leaving crescent nail marks. Hips pushing off the mattress in animalistic little jerks—not even propery fucking inside, just yearning to feel the carnal squeeze of your cunt—

He hits that one spot. And he knows he does.

Because Nanami’s feeling his rotund cockhead push apart your pussylips n’ then slip somewhere deeeeep inside - one velvety bundle of nerves that makes you moan uncontrollably. Just a few inches more and he’d be hitting your coveted cervix…

And he does, but it feels like whiplash.

Because soon enough Nanami’s flipped the two of you over so that the bed dips with your combined weight, with you being manhandled onto your back, and Nanami’s cock wedging deeper into your cunt than it’s ever gone before. Inch by inch. It’s a hypnotizing mix of pain and pleasure as he marks every nook, cranny, and crevice inside you with silky dollops of pre. 

He finally fits.

And Nanami lets out a massive gasp - several - as though he’d just finished a marathon once he does so. “100.1%” He throatily repeats - whilst it feels like you’re squeezing him strong enough to milk him. You’re letting out a botched moan as he nudges against your cervix with the top of his smooth tip, smearing sprays of gooey precum—as if he’d go even deeper if he could. 

“I wonder what the 0.1% is, my love?”

You’re not getting out of here alive.

♡ GETO SUGURU - 98% (UN)MATCH!

“This is so stupid- we have no bed chemistry.”

“Absolutely no chemistry.”

“Seriously no chemistry.” 

“Not even an ounce of chemistry.”

“Then why’re you inside me?”

“Why’d you ask me to be inside you?”

“I’m the one asking the questions here-” You scoff—but you know he’s got you cornered. And by the smug expression on Geto Suguru’s stupidly handsome face, he knows that too. 

Unfortunately for him - you’re never one to back down. And so you’re slightly lifting your hips off the sweat-sodden mattress, not giving the man a second of warning before you’re clamping your silken walls down haaaaard ‘round his cock—and you try to ignore just how good - and familiar - it feels to have him inside you.

There was the thickness of his cockhead - flared the most at the base and perfect to jostle apart your slutty channel like you wanted so badly. There was one- two- three of his most prominent veins, curved down the middle of his shaft and rubbing against your pulsating soft spots. There was the arch of his erection that meant he’d not only be pushed against your cervix- but also up at the roof of your cunt. 

His breath hitches, and he’s letting his head throw back. Cute. 

And you never did expect to be matched with your stupid ex on that stupid sexual matchmaking program.

Let alone actually have sex with him again.

Let alone this be your fourth round.

Name: Geto Suguru

Age: 28

Occupation: Prefers not to say

Category: Morally grey.

Primary likings: Degradation. Spitting. Choking. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 69 onwards…)

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Dr. Shoko had commented. “Maybe a little check-up-”

“No.” You’d responded. “I’m ah- fine. It’s just—what sort of a category is that?”

“You’d be surprised what our clients are into.” She looked at you with amusement. “And, it seems, you as well.”

You shrunk in the clinic seat in shame.

And the most infuriating part of all…was that the damn program had been correct. 

Geto managed to string your body n’ your pleasure along as if it took him no effort—he’d memorized all your sweetest spots inside and it seems he’d never forgotten, he’d never hesitate before spankin’ on your throbbing clit because he already knows it’s going to set your body alight, he’d thrash and thrash his hips into yours because he was fucking angry. And you were, too.

So why did the two of you break up in the first place? Ah, let’s just say…that plans of world domination and date nights don’t go together that well.

But Geto, it seems, was a changed man (or so he said).

He’d dissolved his cult that he always refused to call a cult (or so he said). He was back to self-studying and mending his relationships (or so he said) except, of course, his one with you…

“Stop thinking about what an asshat I am, you always get that look when you think about what an asshat I am.” You’re hearing Geto scoff from above you—and he has the audacity to lean down and prod your furrowed brow relaxed. “S’gonna make me soft.”

“Join the club, I’m already dry.”

With a single - perfectly shaped - brow raised, Geto creeps his right hand down your side—letting those soft fingertips of his just lightly caress the front of your cunt. Your utterly sodden cunt. “That’s not what this pussy’s telling me?”

You’re scrambling onto your elbows. “Communication issues for two years and suddenly you’re the pussy whisperer?”

“Yes. Good that you’re catching up-” That very hand comes up to push you down—“Down, gorgeous- let’s do it my favorite position, hm?”

You scoff. “I don’t remember your favorite position.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’re you halfway down to a full nelson?”

And it was true—ah, for all your supposed pride and dignity, and the pep talk that you’d given yourself before the agency-organized dinner date that you would totally not fuck Geto Suguru no matter how handsome he looked…

But dammit, he’d worn his long hair down.

Of course, the two of you argued over your romantic dinner. Squabbling. Bickering. Making the server hold in his laughter every time you (admittedly immaturely yet albeit justifiably) swiped something off of Geto’s plate when he wasn’t looking; whatever one wanted to call it.

Of course, the two of you ended up at the love hotel a few minutes away from the restaurant; whatever one wanted to call it.

And currently you’re basking in the saturated, sickly-sweet strawberry scent bursting out in plumes from the love hotel pillows. “Eugh- I hate this smell.”

“Oh shush, you’re underneath me.” Geto got himself settled in the full nelson underneath you- and he doesn’t waste a single second before collectin’ a few trickles of slick on his right palm. He then grabs himself and coats his shaft in all the gossamer substance—pushing his perky tip against your hole. And then inside.

“O-ohhhhh—” Your voice cracks.

“Shut up, you’ve taken me more.” Geto spits- and at that very moment, you’re embarrassed to say that a carnal part of you twitches. And soon enough, he’s getting absolutely slathered in all those dewy droplets of sap that he’s missed so much since the break-up—absolutely claiming him, is what Geto likes to think. “And heh- based on what I read on your profile…me telling you to shut up just made you wetter-”

“A coincidence.” You sputter. “S-surely a coincidence.”

“Hmmm? And is it a coincidence that almost all those cute kinks on your profile were ones that I got you into?” He purrs- purrs.

“Not all- hngh, of them-”

“Maybe, but let’s be real, gorgeous—” And then Geto trails off - and it’s never a good sign when Geto trails off. Because that means- smack! As expected, his fingertips come slammin’ down until your clit’s swelling just a bit more, and his hips don’t slow down for a single second. You’re wincing as he keeps steamrolling. “-this pussy learned most of her tactics from me.”

What arrogance. Although you couldn’t lie- seeing Geto so worked up sent pangs of pleasure searing through every fibre of your body. And your favorite method to get him to shut up was to-

“Clench.” He’s gritting his teeth—hissing his words out through them, as he bucks his hips upwards- meeting your flutterin’ walls head-on with a sudden thwack! at your cervix. “Yeah- don’t think I don’t know about your secret technique-” Geto sounds crazed as he whispers in your ear, tone hitching and warbling with every second. But he still keeps going. “-and who taught you that clenchin’ so hard- clenching with the force of your core- feels so good?”

“I-I…” Saliva seeps into your mouth twofold now that Geto’s increasing his pace. He reaches over n’ licks that little splatter- 

“I-I-I-I…” Geto mocks. “I don’t think you’re being truthful, girl~”

“It was you—” You’re yowling- attempting to stand upwards to perhaps get ahold of yourself - but the only thing you’re succeeding in doing is urging Geto to wrap his left arm around your neck and draaaaaaag you right back down. 

You gasp at the sensation of his thick biceps; the firmness and strength held within them; the curves and dips of his muscles. “And who taught you that getting choked like this feels good?”

You’re so woozy- fuck, your head’s throbbing and you’re feeling the wadded-up remnants of cum Geto’s left behind from previous rounds. Harder and harder. Rougher, his balls keep slapping against the front of your sodden folds. “You…”

“And who taught you that this pussy feels better when m’being mean?”

“You—”

“And who’s getting back together with you?”

“You- wait, what?”

“Heh.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 92% MATCH!

Name: Kamo (Itadori) Choso

Age: ?*

Occupation: Student

Category: Hey, hey, hey EMO BOY!

Primary likings: Subbing. Getting pussydrunk. Shooting blanks. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 14 onwards…)

*Client became nervous after seeing the diagrams of sexual positions in the following forms and could not answer (EDIT: Later confirmed 23 but spiritually 150 (?)).

“Him?”

Dr. Shoko sits statuesquely before you. No change in her expression. Not even the slightest twitch in her fingers as she flips through your documents one more time.

After a moment of silence, she takes a deep breath and asks. “Erm- my apologies, but would I be right in assuming that you’re not attracted to hi-”

“No—no, no, no, no, no-” 

“Ah- well, that’s one way to pass on a match-”

“No- that’s- that’s not what I meant.” Red-hot embarrassment, shot through with a spike of excitement once your eyes drop down to the profile of the man once more, curdles in your chest. And you’re sure you look quite frantic attempting to rescind…perhaps everything you’ve blurted out in the past five minutes. Dr. Shoko raises a brow. “Of course, I’m attracted to him.”

A knowing smile tugs at her lips. “Oh?”

“Yeah- of course.” You cough out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Piercings glinting on his ears, snakebites on his lips, and a nervous - almost sheepish, but with a bring-your-daughter-home-at-2AM defiance - expression on his face. Just your type. “He’s perfect, actually.”

Dr. Shoko puts her documents down on the table and crosses her legs. “Then what seems to be the problem?”

“It’s just…I kinda know him?” You’re wincing. “We go to the same university- he does Japanese History, and I’ve seen him ‘round in the Anime Club.”

She hums. “Mm, you seem to know a lot about him.”

You almost sputter- “J-just as much as the average person would…But the thing is that on campus he just looks a little…different? I guess? Imagine your typical nerd—glasses, vests, knows one too many things about Tolkien, cute.” Dr. Shoko throws you a look—nerds were a close second on your list of types, okay?! And you’d always believed Choso was cute even before all this sprucing up.  “Anyways. That sort of thing.” And then you’re taking a second look at the photograph on his profile - maybe the distance would help you see him clearly? And nothing. “And now…”

Everything else matched up.

It was just in his photograph where he looked like he belonged in an early 2000’s emo band.

You let out a slight gasp. “Is he catfishing m-”

“No. Although that would be a little entertaining to see…” Dr. Shoko mutters that last part to herself- “However, Mr. Kamo has shown up to every appointment in exactly this style. Could it be that perhaps he prefers one style for university, and the other in private?”

“Probably.” You sigh. And you see that look on her face- you know that look on her face. “Oh, fine. We both know I want you to match us.”

.

.

.

“Fuh-fuck pleeeease—” Veins, reddened and irritated, snake down the expanse of Choso’s neck - and you’re not surprised. Not when Choso kept twitchin’ and bucking with every single fwop! of your cunt slamming down onto his hips, letting his cock rover deeeeeply inside.

Oh-so-deeply.

You’ve got the poor man sat up against the headboard of this crappy love hotel. You’ve got his face pushed between your tits, as you’re bouncing your hips up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Cute suctioning noises let off where he’s glued his mouth to one of your tits, letting his cheeks hollow as he suckles. “Please- ngh.” Unabashed tears roll down Choso’s cheeks, “Do you really think I can cum again?” Ending his sentence with a single jagged thrust inside your gooey depths.

“But of course.” You purr—purr. It’s enough to make Choso shudder, ravenous cock twitching. “Because I said so. And what did I say about me saying so?”

“M-mommy’s always right when she says so…” He responds- cheeks burning such a sweltering red. 

“Hah…” Leaning down you kiss him- at least, it starts off a kiss. But soon enough you have your tongue sliding across his bottom lip, playing with the sexy snake bites that pierce through the nerd’s lower lip. Always with his nose stuck in a book—you’re kicking yourself for not noticing the holes sooner. “Not so tough now, are you?”

You’ve been teasing him for what feels like eons - but in reality has been about two…maybe three…maybe seven rounds cooped-up inside this love hotel - now; and it’s enough to set Choso on all sorts of edges. Choso can’t speak. Choso can’t form a single thought. Choso can’t control his body- what the fuck he can’t…Unable to stop himself from constantly yearning that sweet pressure that comes from striking the flat surface of the back of your pussy—

His hips are stinging. But he’s still pushing and pushing and pushing. 

“Just one more, then?” He asks. Tears in his eyes.

“Awwww- you really are an emo boy. I can’t believe you had the entire campus fooled for years now.” You snicker- watching as his eyes narrow…first in exasperation, and then in ecstacy as you’re squeezing ‘round his cock. “Mhm. Just one more- mommy has to reward you for losing your virginity, doesn’t she?” You ask. Expectedly, Choso nods and nods.

That had been the entire reason for his participation in this program, it seems - the poor thing wanted to get some experience. And you couldn’t blame him—nor be nice to him. According to his profile, Choso liked it when he was fucked hard- no experience and already thinking like a freak, huh? He was definitely your type.

Tapping at your chin in an exaggerated display of thinking.

“But mommy’s wondering….where is my nerd gonna cum?”

His eyes go wide. Breath hitching, “Please-”

“I mean- maybe you could pull out and I could milk you onto the blanket—?” Dramatically, the other man’s lower lip quivers as a sob threatens to break through. So many rounds and he still hadn’t cum inside - you’d gotten him everywhere: on your stomach, on your tits, between your thighs, on your tongue. Everywhere but inside. “Hmmm. Nope.”

He perks up.

“How about my mouth again?”

Choso shakes his sweaty head.

“I wanted to- hngh—” It’s so tough for him to speak when he’s actively trying not to fall apart at the seams.

“Oh, what’s that?” Your eyes go wide. “Don’t feelin’ my mouth wrapped around your cock, Choso- is it?”

He shudders at the mere imagery of that. Every single thrust had him threatening to spill inside—those gossamer ribbons were flooding your entrance n’ starting to drip down your thighs. “No-”

“No?”

“No, no, no, no—I love your mouth-” He sputters. “-m-mommy…” And even though it’s already been so long, Choso was still wearing those chunky rings depicting skulls and such on- gliding them up and down your back soothingly. “I love every part of you. But I just really…really…really wanted to cum inside this time-” Peeking up at you through tear-stained lashes. “…if that’s okay with you?”

He looked so pretty, it was hard not to cave in then and there.

But you had to stand firm. “Nuh uh…I don’t know.” Tapping at your chin once more. “M’honestly a little hurt that you’d hide this emo side of yourself, Choso.” Leaning down to whisper into his ear- his silver studs glint. “Especially when emo boys with big dicks just make me sooooooo fuckin’ wet—”

Choso startles as though he’d been electrocuted. “I-if I’d known that then I would’ve told you in a heartbeat, mommy-”

“Ah, sweet-talking me now?” You wave. “What other secrets are you hiding, Mr. Kamo Choso?”

And it’d been a rhetorical question, something to make your poor boy squirm—honestly! But perhaps you should’ve expected that with Choso’s fried, pussydrunken brain he wouldn’t have caught onto the toying tone of your voice. That he would’ve blushed- and confessed.

“A-actually the only reason I joined was to get experience-” You raise a brow as you’d already known that. “-so that if- when I actually found the courage to ask someone out, then I’d be less likely to disappoint them in bed…”

Your lips quiver. “Oh, Cho.”

And then you’re wrapping your arms around Choso’s head - pushing his face deeper into your clammy tits, skin-against-skin - you’re running your fingers through his hair, soothing, as Choso keeps fuckin’ away into you.

You whisper against his clammy forehead, “Cum inside, baby.”

And he does with a broken groan—long, lengthy ribbons of cum decorating the interior of your cunt. “Th-thank you, mommy.” He whimpers.  They cling onto the outer ring of your entrance- which Choso has to push inside with a flicker of his thumb. The heat floods you instantly - bursts and bubbles of warmth spreading from your core, every single time that Choso twitches with another pang of pleasure- and his cockhead bursts out in cum.

Choso might be an utter sweetheart, but his cock was not-

He thwacks! out a few more creamy wads, and when he’s finally done and shooting blanks- Choso accumulates those dollops on the tip of his cock all to smear them at the bottom of your pussy. That sweet, sweet cervix.

“C-can I tell you another secret, baby?” He sobs.

“Of course, Choso.”

“You. It’s you.”

You free him from your embrace to look at him properly.

“It’s you that I’ve been wanting to ask out.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HE MATCHED?!

“Wait- who…?”

“The King of Curses.” Dr. Shoko responds with a straight face. Too straight. You needed her to crack a smile- you needed her to tell you that this was a joke. “At least—that’s what he calls himself, and we did have to track down his records to find out his actual name.”

Name: ITADORI (RYOMEN) SUKUNA

Age: 32

Occupation: ‘It’s complicated’.

Category: Rough n’ tough

Primary likings: ROUGH. Partners in lingerie. DP. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 55 onwards…)

“What does he mean by his occupation being…‘it’s complicated’?” You squint at the man’s profile.

“He wanted to put ‘King of Curses’ for that, too.” Dr. Shoko takes a long swig of her coffee. “Goodness knows I couldn’t figure that out even with a PhD. But it’s a lot more flattering than putting ‘Loitering’, isn’t it?”

“He loiters.” You ask.

“Hopefully a forgivable crime.” She nods.

And, sure, you didn’t give a shit about the loitering—what instead caught your attention was the little matchmaking measurement that was on the top of the page. Or at least supposed to be. Instead of a percentage like all your previous passes had, this time was greeted you instead was a simple note: MATCH MADE!

And underneath it was a few semi-erased notes from who you assume to be the matchmakers spelling out- ‘Thank goodness.’ ‘We thought the day would never come-’ ‘Take him off our hands, please!!’

Dr. Shoko catches you staring at them and promptly shuts your file for you. “It’s just ah- your match seems to have a bit of a…reputation here, you see?”

You ask, “A reputation? Is he some weirdo?”

“Well that’s one way of putting it…” She mutters to herself-

“What was that-”

“Nothing!” Dr. Shoko clears her throat, and smooths her mask of professionalism. “To be quite frank with you, Sukuna was one of our first clients—and we’ve been operational for quite some time now, and yet Sukuna never matched with anyone. If it wasn’t an extremely low percentage, then a match didn’t get past the interview stage- especially because Sukuna himself can be a little…intimidating. At one point we just started showing him the profiles first, expecting pass after pass.” She gives you a meaningful look. “But for the first time, it seems, the King of Curses has found himself interested.”

You don’t know how to interpret the little quirk of a smirk on her lips. “I see.” Flipping the file back open, you’re taking in those smoldering crimson eyes, that pink hair. He was handsome, that was for sure- and he sounded like such a character.

You can’t help but find yourself, perhaps, a little interested as well.

“But of course, it’s completely up to you. And I can pass this one and get some more matches lined up if-”

“Nah. No need to pass, Dr. Shoko.”

.

.

.

“Now do a little spin f’me- atta girl.”

Just about three dates - and you’d discovered that the pink-haired man honestly wasn’t too bad. A little eccentric- alright, very eccentric. He spoke in extremely old-fashioned Japanese and knew far too much about cannibalism, but other than that you thought him to be just fine. Handsome, too.

Just an hour into your romantic dinner at that one fancy French restaurant downtown. Just a glance at the nearby love hotel before you’re both huddling inside one cramped room, Sukuna tugging off his coat before he bore you with a strappy black lingerie set.

It barely covered…well, anything.

And that seemed to be just how he liked it.

Not even needing to tug those panties of yours to the side before he’s pressin’ his plump tip against your pussylips. Both so sensitive that the contact makes you hiss—and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as soon as he starts to enter. “O-ohhh-”

“Hey- hey—” Of course, it’s not long before you’re feeling one of his roughened hands come and lightly tap your cheeks. It makes you snap out of your little daze and discover that Sukuna had entered a few inches - barely halfway through - but it still felt like he was touching your deepest throat. “Ya have the King of Curses right before you and you’re not even looking at him? Tch-”

Without warning, he pummels just a little deeper. Just a tender caress of his zig-zagging veins along your wet channel-

“C’mon, woman—” Sukuna grumbles. “Literally what could be so interesting inside the back of yer skull? Look at me- look at how well m’fucking you.”

“S-so good…”  You’re blabbering out, as soon as your senses are returning. Because the stark sensation of Sukuna streaking your insides was mind-numbing - you don’t think you’ve ever taken anyone this big before. 

“Never?” Fuck- you said that out loud?! His smirk makes your heart race- honed canines all on display. “Well buck up, brat.” He taps the side of your hips - and too late does it register as a signal to fuck your hips back down onto his pummeling ones. Funneling your cunt so fucking tight with all his inches. “Because if it takes you this long ta take me regularly, then we might just be here all night trying to get you to take…heh-”

The hairs on your body raise. 

You bite down on your lower lip. “Your…second one?”

Sukuna chuckles. “No.” Reaching upwards - not caring if it’s making your hamstrings scream so deliciously at the stretch - Sukuna leans his sticky forehead against yours n’ kisses your lips. Tongue and all. He finally whispers as he parts, “It’ll be yours.”

And just a few more thrusts, a few more whack-whack-whacks! of his thickened cock reaching your deepest depths possible. He was just so big and his thrusts were just so vicious—you’re floating through a haze of pleasure when you feel it…that cold press of silicone against your precious orifice.

You’re jerking up with a yelp. “Shit- hngh, you’re putting it in now?”

“Hah? Duh.” Sukuna scoffs. “Why? Unless you don’t wish to-”

“I’m just wondering what took you so long.”

Sukuna seems stunned for one second- two. Before the King quickly snaps out of it to pleasure the sopping line of your cunt with his silicone dildo—“Dirty girl.”

Because what’d intrigued you the most on his profile was one thing: double penetration. And Ryomen Sukuna took it seriously—he’d slathered that impressive size - molded after himself, he’d told you - with a passion fruit-scented lube before starting to crown it at your entrance. The very same pussy he was stuffed in, too.

His cock throbs away wildly inside you as Sukuna squeezes- and squeezes. And you wince at the mixture of pain and pleasure - that utterly wiiiiiild stretch making your mind dazed. “Keep going.” You beg. “P-please- keep going, Kuna—”

“Kuna?” You can’t tell if he’s feigning outrage or he’s serious. He tugs your body into his- using one of your lingerie straps. “How ridiculous- fuck, and just for that- don’t expect me to go easy on ya, brat.”

And then it’s both. At the same time.

He started off nicely—surprisingly. He started off just shuffling his thick, throbbing cock behind and stuffing the orifice of your cunt with the purple-colored dildo. He started off so-

And then you’d gotten just a tad too mouthy and Sukuna’s letting the globular, slick-glazed edge of the dildo rover all over - aaaaaall around the first ring of your entrance, and then smearing apart your channel to search for your sweet spots inside. Competing - fucking competing - with his own cock to massage your spots the best. It takes one hand clawed onto your hip n’ pinning you down with all his weight to actually squirm the dildo inside you.

Shivers run down Sukuna’s spine as he feels his sensitive shaft rub against the firm silicone. Uuuuuuup rubbin’ his skin against the material. And down. Uuuuup and down. Uuuuup and down. 

Fucking you twice over. 

Such looooong and lecherous slides of your overstuffed pussy- “Look at her go.” The King drags you back using a strappy ribbon from your lingerie, glances down and snickers. “She’s just so hungry, huh?”

“C-can feel you all the way in my throat.” You whimper.

“That’s nothing, wait till you feel me in your cervix.”

And he’s bottoming out. Twice. 

“Fuck, how I’m glad you found me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY% MATCH?!

Dr. Ieiri Shoko sits before you in her office, and she looks as though she wished she was doing anything but.

Now, you’re sure this wasn’t anything personal - after all, you’ve met with Dr. Shoko for numerous appointments prior, and each time she’d been cordial if not nice. You’ve filled out all your forms. You haven’t been late to an appointment. You made sure during each appointment to be open-minded and thoughtful about your potential matches.

So…what?

What could have happened in the thirty-six hours between your last appointment (six passes that day) and the sudden frantic phone call you’d gotten this morning regarding the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT? You’d rushed over - still half-asleep and attempting to tug on your pants - as soon as you could, sure that perhaps today would be the day you find your perfect match and-

“Ehem- today is the day you’ll be looking over your perfect match.” Ah- what? Still jolted by Dr. Shoko’s sudden change in demeanor, it takes a second for the excitement to hit you. 

You gasp. “Seriously? A perfect match?”

“Well…perfect would be overselling it…” She mutters to herself- and then catches your look of confusion. “Ah- mathematically and scientifically, the numbers are perfect of course. A 99.99% match.”

“Then, what seems to be…”

“It just seems that your match is a little-” Dr. Shoko waves her hands in the air, searching for the word. 

“Eccentric?”

“No.”

“Odd?”

“No.”

“Crazy.”

“Almost.” She sighs, looking far more exhausted than the last time you saw her. Far more exhausted. The bluish splotches beneath her eyes crinkle as she grimaces, “Apologies. I’m not that good at describing Lovecraftian monsters.”

You chuckle- before you realize. “Wait, what?”

“But—onto the profiles, we don’t have all day and I have about thirty more appointments.” She shoots you a look. “And none of them above 60%, I fear.” Then turning towards her second door - the one connecting her office to one of the building’s laboratories - she calls. “You can come out now!”

The door clicks open immediately- as if whoever was on the other side had been waiting impatiently to be called, fidgeting, hand already on the door handle.

And in walks a tall, white-haired man—although he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so, wearing a sterile white scientist’s coat and thin-rimmed glasses. There were a few Digimon stickers on his shoes, and his name tag read: PROF. GOJO SATORU.

He was cute- you had to give him that.

Dr. Shoko takes one look at your face and sighs.

You’re immediately straightening up. “E-erm, hello.” And the man bows rapidly- sputtering out greetings and introductions a mile a minute, that you don’t even catch them. “Ah…I believe you have my match profile?”

The other woman smacks her forehead. “He is your match profile.”

You gape. “What?”

Gojo practically beams- fuck, he really was too cute. He immediately reaches over and grasps your hand—then unabashedly kisses the back of it. Such a loud mwah! “Your pleasure to meet me, sweetheart.”

From the corner of your vision, you see Dr. Shoko download a resignation letter template. “Please…you’re all he’s been talking about for the past two days-”

“Like a true romantic~” Gojo trills.

“-pass on him and put us all out of our misery…please. I beg of you.”

You look at the miserable Shoko- and then you look at Gojo.

.

.

.

“So…” Gojo’s breath sticks to the side of your neck, utterly syrupy, and his cock sticks to the goopy insides of your cunt. 

They wouldn’t have been able to pull him out with a wrench, he can tell you that much-

Because you were swallowing him up whole—little mewls leaving the gap between your lips, little dribbles of slick going down the corners of your mouth - ones he’s nearing towards and licking right off your face. Gojo’s chunky glasses crush against the side of your temple. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh. “-it seems I have fallen victim to my own creation.”

Gojo Satoru had you pushed against his clinical desk; it’d been long since Dr. Shoko had wrapped-up your first meeting (and gone to take a lay-down on her examination bed). Meanwhile Gojo had valiantly volunteered to give you ‘an insightful and educational’ tour around the laboratories.

The first place he took you to was his private office.

…The first place he took you to, neither of you could keep your hands off each other.

“Th-the program?” You’re babbling. Your hands grasp the edge of his desk- a plumage of documents soar upwards as you’re struggling and failing a few times- he was just fucking you so good. “How are you falling victim—”

“Because when I wanted to figure out a way to lose my virginity, I didn’t expect it to be this good—!” Gojo bursts out in confession. And you’re feeling the full impact of his statement- and the rough slam of his cockhead against the back of your pussy.

“S-so this was all…” Your mouth gapes - and you’re not quite sure whether it was because of the sudden confession, or the increasing force of his hips. “-a scheme to pop your cherry?!”

“Erm, actually- I wouldn’t say scheme—” Gojo huffs. Those thick-framed glasses of his kept sliding down his nose due to the force of his thrusts, and he was smearing his pretty face against your shoulder to keep pushing it up. “I am- was a virgin, heh…”

He takes a glance down at where the two of you were sloppily connected - those swollen folds of yours spread so wiiiiiide open around his long cock - and instantly, he’s hypnotized.

For a beat.

Two.

“—Satoru.” Honestly- you have to give him a good clench to snap him back to his senses. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve kept funneling you full of his cock until one or both of your bodies gave out—he just seemed addicted. Tingling with desire. He wanted you. He needed you. 

Every single second he was reeling his hips back- Gojo was angry just until he could rover his thickened inches back inside n’ bash your very cervix. Again. And again. And again and again. 

And Gojo’s pushing his glasses up with a huff. “What if I was having a telepathic conversation with your pussy?”

You gape. “Shoko’s right, you’re crazy-”

“Yeah yeah-” He sighs as if he’s heard that one before. Many, many times. With a roll of those blue eyes, Gojo keeps explaining - not slowing down for a single split-second. “I was a virgin with too much time between my extra credits and three honors degrees, okay? So instead of being a lunatic and going out to actually meet people, I did what any sane person would do…” 

“Create the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT-”

“I created the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT!” It was almost…cute just how passionate he was getting. And it certainly helped that the more excited he got, the more his twitchin’ tip splurged out precum. Flinching it into all sorts of little hidden spots inside you—“A cutting-edge matchmaking system that pairs partners’ sexual proclivities-”

He leans against you- and it feels like a furnace, in the best way. Gojo’s blushing cheek against yours. Gojo’s aching cock against your cunt. 

He’s scouring the silken depths of your cunt and ramming into that one spot- “The Gräfenberg spot.” Gojo titters to himself. “Erm- I did my reading…” By now he wasn’t even pulling his hips off of yours- glued to those stinging ass cheeks of yours, he’s plasterin’ every nook inside you with his precum. “And the fact that we’re a near-100% match must mean one thing—” 

Gojo cums from pure excitement.

He cums from pure excitement. White-hot pouring into the depths of your cunt, slathering it in an oily layer of his cum.

You almost don’t dare to ask. “And wh-what does that mean?”

“That next I must make a pregnancy program!”

Too caught up in the moment; the two of you don’t register the light buzz of your phone.

A text from Shoko.

A/N. IDK why working on their profiles was so unserious shsdhsd-

---

Young master Zenin - Toji Zenin. Your husband.

It’s only been a few months since your stiff, lavish wedding ceremony to him - part of an arranged deal made between his clan and your own. Your parents practically leapt at the chance to marry into such an esteemed jujutsu name, forgetting all those dark rumors swirling around the young head at the first golden glint of the Zenin family’s massive treasury.  

Sure, they promised to treat you well, to prime you into becoming the new madam of their distinguished household. But you knew better - it wasn’t your upbringing or your cursed technique that brought you here, they couldn’t care less - no, it was because of an heir. 

The one thing that the Zenin family didn’t have. 

And the one thing Toji Zenin refused to give them.

That much was obvious when just minutes after exchanging vows and the ceremonial sake, a group of todgering elders had thrust a heady antidote for conception into your hands, smiling smugly as if they’d just given you the wedding gift of the century. Of course, your all-new husband didn’t even look at you properly on your wedding night - opting instead for a short, husky goodnight and to sleep in a separate bedroom down the hall from the newly-weds’ chamber. 

He wasn’t a cruel husband, you think, and he was attractive - painfully so - and felt more like a gruff acquaintance than anything. But the only problem was that he didn’t embrace you, not even a fleeting kiss.

Even when you really wanted Toji to.

“-T-Toji?” you’re breathing shallowly, eyes blinking up hazily at the dim lighting. It comes out small, cracking so pathetically at the end.

“---Toji--even----”

“No use--- had--months---”

“---keep her to myself--”

Instantly, you’re sitting upright in a cold, wooden chair. Heart thumping wildly against the ribs of your body, it bangs at the thickly digging rope wrapping around your body.

Shit shit shit - where were you? The last thing you remembered was chatting with your attendant in your room, and she’d handed you a brand-new perfume to smell- Fuck. Where was-

“Ah, you’re awake.” There’s a high, sing-song voice from somewhere on your right, and your blood runs chillingly cold when you recognize that voice. “Honestly, I hoped you wouldn’t be around for this part but-” Naoya Zenin claps his hands to get the attention of every other elder hunched around the traditional Japanese room. “-that just makes it all the more fun, right?”

With the one tiny lantern being lit overhead, you could make out those scraggly smiles, the sharp glint of the Zenin Clan’s famed katanas. A tear stumbles down your trembling cheek, tasting salty on your lips.

“Aww, not the tears.” Naoya guffaws, “You know m’not good with the tears.” Those ropes pinning your hands behind your back rub raw with your frantic movement, creaking and unstirring despite your best efforts. “Try and try all you want, sweetcheeks, but a failure of the Zenin clan will only be met with the appropriate consequences.”

A failure.

The words would’ve cut deep had they not been the very same ones spat at you at every clan meeting - the exact reason you didn’t accompany Toji to the one today. Toji, you think. Fuck, how you wished you’d have gone just this one time. 

Straightening your spine the best you could in this binding chair, you ask - firm, pretending for all the world to be as confident as you’re not. “What do you want from me?”

It’s as if your question is the biggest joke that every scowling man in this room had heard, and they all burst into wheezing, riotous laughter. Some even slapping their knees - even Naoya gives you a cold, leeringly gleeful grin, “Just as mouthy as he is, huh?” He turns back to the elders, “She’s asking what we want!”

You bristle at another bout of cackles, struggling to hiss out a strangled, “Well- well if you bastards just fucking told me-”

“An heir.” 

Fuck, you had a feeling it was this.

“What? You pussies get your rocks off by wondering about mine and Toji’s sex life?” you let out shrill laughter, mouth moving before your brain because fuck, if it was all going to end now, might as well spew out everything you’ve wanted to since you walked in here. You shake your woozy head, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, if the man himself wanted an heir then you’d know-”

Eyes enraged, he takes a heated step towards you, “You little-”

“Naoya.” The strained drawl of an elder you’d seen around the corridors stops him straight in his tracks, and Naoya gives the man a hasty, reluctant bow. “Finish it. Before he gets back.”

Those last few words splatter a few drops of panic into your words, and a few more exhausted tears stream down your face. 

“Heh, whatever.” he’s taking one last greedy lookover down your rattling figure. “Would’ve taken y’for myself if I didn’t think he’d kill me, sweetcheeks. What a shame.” Trailing off airily, he turns back towards where you spot another spiking glisten in the dark, a metallic twang! rings through the thick, musty atmosphere. “Who knows, maybe his next wife will actually listen to a thing or two.”

Next wife. 

You’re not sure why but the thought made your heart clench. And you’re gasping when he turns back around - silver katana in hand - trying to scream, yell, anything for help. But no sound comes out. 

Instead, all you can do is gape when Naoya crowds in menacingly closer, you can just hear the smile in his voice when he coos mockingly, “You’re much better when you shut up, doll.” You press your lips tightly together at the same, sullied use of Toji’s nickname for you - wondering how he would react to all of this. Wincing at the cutting whoosh! of the katana being raised up, up, up- “Any last wo-”

BANG!

You’re grimacing at the loud crashing of wood and panels, sliding doors ripped to shreds. And in the hazy cloud of dust you could make out the outline of a tall, heaving figure. Big arms swaying with his choppy breaths, he’s standing still - dangerous.

And even in the soft darkness, your unblinking gaze caught on his gleaming, feral smile, sharp canines bared like some beast. Eyes carnivorous, widened as he assesses the room like a predator lurking in on its prey.

The drop of fear hits you before the realization - Toji.

Letting out a strangled yelp, “T-Toj- mmpf!” Before cold, wrinkly fingers come up from behind to cover your mouth. But even the slightest sound of your voice has Toji’s form jolting - fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, like electricity zapped through his entire body, and you can hear the elder behind you take in an obvious gasp when his eyes lock onto the two of you. 

Finally. 

Toji’s lips part silently, and abruptly, you’re being let go of as if you burned. “You.” 

It happens so fast that you’re not even sure you imagined it, in a split-second, the long, jagged dagger in Toji’s hand is being flung right at his shivering target. . 

And you knew he won’t miss - he never will, because you’re not even blinking when a drawn-out groan of pain echoes from behind you. Followed by an echoing thud!

“My wife.” Toji’s rasping baritone sends goosebumps racing down your spine, you’re puffing in a quick inhale at just how close he sounds. Sure enough, when you look up, you’re met with softened sage eyes, and crooked beginnings of a smile. “My wife.” he breathes out, as if he still couldn’t really believe it. But any and all tenderness in his body bleeds away when Toji abruptly looks over his shoulder at the men crowding around the entrance with a thunderous glare, “Next.”

Naoya is the first to dare to speak - to even move. Yelling, “Y-y- do you even know who that- the crime it is to kill one of the elders-”

Fuck, you swear Toji looked elated at that, that savage grin still plastered on his face, he grits through clenched teeth, “Next.” 

Next. Next. Next. Next. 

It’s all that kept being laughed - laughed - out when Naoya activated his own cursed technique, absolutely nothing against Toji’s rampant ravaging. The thrum of jujutsu makes your head throb, and Toji’s steps sound deafening. Pressurized lunges towards the man himself, and before he can think - before he can even breathe - Naoya’s being pinned face-down on the tatami floor. Face stinging with the force of the stronger man’s foot on his head, pressing it underneath his wooden sandals. He speaks softly - as if talking down to a child - over the strained pop! pop! pop! of joints. “For taking my wife, for insulting the very soul of my soul.”

Toji wasn’t done, he wasn’t even stopping. He was out of control. Ready to kill. To break. 

And none of the elders could do anything - in fact, they fall fatally still onto their knees at Toji’s growing smile, the slow turn of his head. All knowing they were on the very brink of death himself. “Who’s next?”

Fatigue and relief hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact. And you can feel your body drooping lower, vision tinging with black at the corners. Over the grotesque crunching of limbs, you think you could hear a faint, gruff laughter of, “Yeah, ya might wanna sleep this one out, doll.”

---

Toji never wanted to let you out of his sight. Never. 

And with you so vulnerable like this - dozing off gently on his silken bedsheets, body curling subconsciously into his benevolent hold - he thinks he never will.

Mellow, rounded tips of his thick fingers glide down your skin, sensitive from the hot water and the way he’d washed away every evidence of the blood and pain from just a few hours before. 

“I’m sorry.” Toji breathes, hushed, a thumb gliding away a stray droplet of water on the apple of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He connects his forehead with your damp one, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t come to see you early from the meeting- just knew something felt wrong.”

“Sorry for what, Toji?”

Your teasing tone of voice shocks him to his very core, and yet he can’t find it in himself to pull away - fuck, he can’t even dare open his eyes to look. “All of it.” he’s spitting out, tormentingly.

It takes you a while to find the words, “It’s- it’s not your fault.” you nod, a wet hand coming up to comb through Toji’s soft black tresses. “It’s neither of ours.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, in which he’s scrubbing non-existent beads of water off of you. Long strokes - slow, and purposeful - and you have to hold back your sudden yelp when it hits you that this was the first time that he saw you naked.

“But-” he falters, shaking his head - before thinking better of it. And you take the moment to appreciate just how gorgeous he is up close, every spike of pink in his worried lips, dark lashes kissing his high cheekbones. “But it’s over now, you can- you can go back to your clan.” he grimaces, still looking like he wanted to rip something - someone - apart. “The Zenin family is done.”

Done. 

“Toji.” you exhale, luring in your face so close to your husband’s. Too close. “Come with me. Fuck this Estate, fuck having an heir- and fuck the elders, if they’re not dead by now anyway.” They were - every single one - bodies piled high in the same room you were carried tenderly out of, you find out later. You steady onto your elbows on that unfamiliar mattress - Toji’s, you distinctly realize. And his brows crinkle upwards into an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“I…”

“And-” A hand of yours wraps around his throat, nails digging into the racing pulse of his at the side of his milky neck. “-kiss me.”

Then he’s raising his eyes to look at you and fuck-

You were fucked. 

You might as well have just signed away your own will because here was the man that was covered in blood not too long ago, here he was with his lids hooded, pupils blown. “My wife.” he repeats that same mantra from before, lips parting like something so dark, visceral, was poked dangerously awake. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes flicker in a lingering triangle across both of your eyes, your lips. Just a hair’s breadth away. Straining out a raspy, “Oh fuck.”

Depraved - Toji’s lips are so depraved . And he’s drinking you in like all his bloodthirst from before had liquidated into pure need. 

You’re mewling when a large palm brushes over to cup your cheek, tilting that pretty head of yours to deepen the kiss. “Toji.”

You shouldn’t have done that - oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Because the sound of his own name in your syrupy sweet tone makes him jolt. Jolt. His entire body rumbles with a deep, wrenched-out growl, followed very closely by a loud slam! of Toji’s fist banging down on the nearby bedside table. Only later will you find that perfectly indented hole in the shape of his hand, splinters scattered across the floor. 

Like wanted to keep in control - needed to keep in control. But was failing - miserably. 

“F-fuuuuck-” he draws out huskily into your mouth, that tiny scar always at the corner of his mouth catching on your lower lip when he takes it between his. Sucking on that slick-glossed seam harshly, it almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “You have no idea- absolutely no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

And suddenly you’re so painfully aware of the way your robe hadn’t been tied up properly, feeling the cinch of your sensitive nipples against his rich yukata, the warmth of all five of his long fingers splaying out just below the curve of your tits. 

You can feel his needy hips rutting into yours - such raw strength in the way he holds your own still so easily. Pushing right into the bullseye between your legs with the outline of his massive, heated bulge. Languid, delicious drags.

“Fuck we shouldn’t-” he cries out when you’re reeling him back in with his plump lip tucked beneath your teeth. “You need to-” Before he’s being tugged back in again. And again. And again and again like one taste of your candied lips and he was addicted. Barely able to choke out a single syllable before mashing them back onto yours. Gruffing out a deep rumble from the depths of his sculpted chest, “Shit- y’know why I didn’t do this sooner? Why I didn’t just fuck you right then and there in front of hngh- everyone whenever I wanted to? Because I knew-”

He cuts himself off with a convulsing shudder, pulling away just enough that you whine disappointedly. “I was gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

“Couldn’t- hngh-” you’re mewling at the delicate little strings of syrupy spit snapping. Spying down at the way his yukata was disheveled now, displaying such delicious panes of warm skin for you. “Couldn’t have guessed.”

Toji’s brows raise at your slightly bratty tone, lips curling into such a sinful smirk that it makes your cunt throb so hotly, despite the slowly cooling water. His eyes darken - as if something snapped. “Oh- you’re gonna fucking regret that, ma.”

And something did -  maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this.

In an instant, you’re seeing a flash of that man- that monster from before. Baring you the most vicious grin inhumanly possible, if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered how high the death count would be. The hundreds? The thousands?

He’s worshiping down your body like an apology for all that transpired before, hot, wet brandings of his mouth across each and every inch of skin he could reach. It made you whimper, it made you feel the powerful hum of his strength at his fingertips, it made you need more more more-

All you can let out is a drawling moan when he unapologetically snaps! the hem of your panties onto your heated skin, “Don’t be such a t-tease.”

Oh, you were so weak against the dark head of the Zenin clan, against the way he circles his two hands around your ankles. Easily pulling - hauling you across the plush mattress like some ragdoll. 

Not even hesitating before ripping your poor yukata off your body, until you’re left spread so shamefully underneath him, Toji knocking down hard onto his knees before you. 

“Well- whatever my wife wants…” the same dangerous grin grows along his face, glinting white teeth bared where they held your flimsy excuse of panties between honed canines. He murmurs the final few words hovering over where you needed him the most,  “...no elder or god themself could stop me from giving you.” 

RIP—! 

It’s the last thing breathed out of his heaving lungs before your poor underwear is being torn off of you by his very mouth, not wasting a moment before spitting them out, and burying his face between your trembly thighs. Not even taking in one last gulp of air, not even thinking because all Toji Zenin knew was that he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste your sweet sweet cunt right now. 

“Oh f-fuck-” he’s musing, sharp tongue stuttering for once in his life. “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” You’re yelping when your jelly-like legs are pliantly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscles of his deltoids. “Can’t believe you’ve been-” He trails off so deliriously, planting a hot, thick glob of spit on your spread pussy lips once. Twice. Smearing that glistening coat along your puffy folds with the fat of his thumb, “-been holdin’ out on me like this.”

“Shit- s’too much.” you’re whining at the slippery gloss of the mess he’s made down below leaking down your slit. Threading your fingers through his silky locks, “I wasn’t holding out on anything, y’know-”

His wide-eyed gaze was locked on your sloppily winking hole, circling the rim of that needy ring of muscle with his pointed index. “God…” his hot breath fans your dripping cunt, “You might just be my god. Didn’t wanna bring a kid into this family but you’re so- so sweet m’thinking it might not be too bad.”

Those words are barely even registered in your mind before his pretty pink lips wrap themselves around your throbbing clit. Handsome cheekbones hollowing, droopy eyes rolling to the back of his head when Toji sucks. Whirling his tongue erratically around the sensitive nub, such lewd little squelches ring in your ears. 

“T-Toji—” your purring moans only make him bury his face even deeper, nose pressing up against the edge of your sopping slit. And each thorough drag of your slobbering cunt down his face makes you knock against the end of his chin, so thirsty with the way he was making out with your cunt. Like he couldn’t get enough - never will. “Y-you were the one-” the heels of your feet move up higher to loop at his neck. “-holding out.”

And you knew that Toji the strongest of his clan - you knew it took more than a mere, barely-lucid tug to have him clashing even deeper into your pussy. 

But he does for you anyway. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” Toji’s own heavy tongue betrays him with a throaty moan, and he looks so furious. Seething at the way he was pussydrunk already. Greedy gaze so crazed that you’re back to wondering how high the kill count would be- would they all even fit on the Zenin Estate? “-f tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”

“Wha- oh!” you yelp at the sheer burning stretch of your legs being pushed up, up, up until your knees were knocking against your tits. And Toji takes the shamefully spread opportunity to bully one rummaging finger past your swollen folds. “Oh fuck- you’re reaching so- so-”

“Finish it.”

It takes you a second to realize that Toji’s addressing you, his tone so jagged. Words muffled when he pants them out into your weeping cunt. 

He’s pulling out his finger - intentionally curving exactly against all those sweet spots mushed into your velvety walls - only to brand your poor clit with a sharp smack! “Finish that fucking sentence, ma.”

“-deep!” your hips are bucking up at another hefty intrusion, Toji’s fingers relentless inside your elastic wall. Molding out your insides to memorize every bump of his knuckles, every neat curve of his short fingernails. “So so- deep, Toji.” you whine, your shaky hands coming to rest at where you could feel him pumping in and out feverishly into hidden nooks and crannies of your sopping cunt. “C-can feel you right- here!”

This earns you another smack! gifted once again on your awaiting clit, but any and all irritation is swept away when he’s clashing his lips with yours down below in such a messy kiss. Meshing around the bulge of his own large fingers, tongue rolling placatingly over your glisteningly ravaged clit. Flicking, “Yeah- definitely my kind of fucking goddess.” His own free hand dances up to rest about midway up your stomach, pressing down. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon, y’know. Trust me.”

It’s at this moment that Toji’s exploratory fingers find their greedy way to your bulbous g-spot, immediately crashing into it - hard. 

There. There there there, you want to say - but you don’t have to, because he could tell. Could feel the vice-like grip of your slicked walls, the way it’s almost difficult to hammer back into your cunt. 

“Yeah yeah I got it-” he’s humming cockily, back to dragging his lips all over your clit senselessly all over. “All you hafta to do is- hah-” He’s being cut off by his own ravenous thirst, slurping mouth grinding even faster into your pretty pussy. And all you can hear are those syrupy squelches and the smacking of Toji’s mouth, your whining ah! ah! ah! following with every push of his fingers forming around your gummy walls. Curling deftly to massage all your sweetest spots he’s already mapped out so scarily well. “-ahh fuck- can’t get enough. Would kill them all over again just for a single taste of this. Would kill everyone- burn down this entire fuckin’ city.”

You didn’t doubt it, and Toji didn’t let you - not for a single second. 

Because he was almost violent in his approach, bruisingly pushing apart your legs further and further with each sloppy, stumbling second. Looking up at you with his wild gaze, with such a feral grin you could feel along every crevice of your overwhelmed cunt. 

“Can tell ya liked that-” he’s huffing out a surprised bout of laughter, “Ohhh- ya like that very much, huh?”

His tongue was alternating between ravaging your clit and brushing against the teasing edge of your entrance now. Over and over. And you’re gifted with another imprinting smack! onto your quivering cunt - and another and another and another until you’re all but sobbing out such a broken, “Toji- m’so close, fuck- m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum–”

“Then cum f’me, my wife.”

It only takes a few more messy rams of Toji’s fingers knuckle-deep into your eagerly swallowing pussy until you’re crashing so aggressively into your high. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure running down, down, down your spine and into where he was relentlessly stuffing your convulsing pussy. 

Fucking you over and over through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you so splayed out and ruined makes Toji’s mouth water. He feels like a damn dog with the way his tongue lolls out, grin widening, he murmurs absent-mindedly, “Yeah- wouldn’t be bad at all. Swear you’re gonna be the end of my sanity.”

Fuck, you shamelessly ogle the way his dark robe falls down his broad shoulders, revealing so many dips and curves of muscle after muscle. He was so large - so meticulously sculpted that your restless legs fasten around Toji’s slenderly toned waist, drawing him close until your bare chests were rubbing up against one another. “Heh- you don’t get to hold out on me anymore, doll.”

It sounded almost like a threat - but your bleary, orgasm-drunk mind only has the chance to wonder what exactly he would do if you did. If you didn’t give him - the one head of the Zenin clan that didn’t get everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth - the one thing he would kill for. Die for. 

You. 

So you’re smiling drunkenly, head tilted to one side, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Toji doesn’t answer - doesn’t even bother to. And the only response you’re getting is a strained laugh - delirious almost, like the mere thought of that was enough to shred away whatever was left of his sanity.

And yours - clearly - because in that very moment, Toji lets his throbbing cock finally spring out, smacking against his abs to leave a glisteningly wet smear of precum. So so angry, his fat weeping tip lets out another wave of syrupy precum at the chill of the heady air. 

Shit - he was big. 

Long, long shaft blending so prettily from a feverish red at his tip to the tan skin behind those tufts of black at his happy trail. Veins pulsing, girthy enough that you’re wondering back to his kill count, thighs twitching nervously to a close. 

“No- no no-” you could tell his tone was trying to veer into scolding, but you caught the way it cracks with so much raw need. “Don’t you fuckin’-” His hands just wrench your knees back open, green eyes just aflame at this point. “-dare.” 

His pointed smile was so dripping wet with your sweet sweet juices from before, trickling in a sloppy trail all the way from the glossy corners of his lips, down to his chin. And his eyes follow the splattering, thick puddle on your collarbone. 

“Oh-” Toji’s mouth falls into a wicked gasp, immediately, he’s surging forward to pool the syrupy mess on his hot tongue. “Heh- guess we really are just now consummating our marriage, huh?”

The movement causes his painfully rock-hard cock to just kiss at your puffy pussy lips, just mashing the fat round tip of his length between your slit. Teasing. So fucking filthy. 

“Toji-” you’re wrenching him by his dark hair to pant into his open mouth, like a mantra. “More- need more- fuck I need-”

“More?”  His shuddering rap is barely even audible, ringing straight to your very heated core, because he sounded so wrecked. So fucking utterly ruined. Voice a few octaves higher in disbelief, “My pretty girl wants my cock? Fuckin’ want-” And then it’s like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs - literally. Feeling as if you’re being split apart so sinfully so, “more?”

You couldn’t have answered if you’d wanted to - because Toji Zenin was fucking ruthless. Just as mean as those greedily lingering juts of his hips, pushing and pushing his massively rotund length past your first snug channel of muscle. 

But that didn’t matter, because your slutty cunt was speaking more than enough for the both of you - or at least that’s what Toji mutters, over and over when he pushes in jutting, unrhythmic jabs to squeeze himself deeper inside you. 

“Oh- oh my god–” you’re batting your heavy eyelids open to take in the way your overstuffed pussy just bulges around him. Lips spread so widely it was like they were conforming to each ridge and vein down Toji’s fat cock, beading a glossy sheen down every inch by fucking inch you were being fed. “So much- fuck, don’t know if I can take it.”

Toji Zenin would rather die than not have his pretty wife all overfilled with cock if that’s what it takes him. 

And by the way your teary eyes grow wider, he suspects his pussydrunk mind might’ve just babbled that out loud. “Heh…didn’t I tell ya, ma?” His low whisper puffs hotly against your ear, tugging tensely on your earlobe. “M’gonna fucking ruin ya.”

And it’s times like this that it’s so clearly impossible to forget that Toji is inhumanly human - that you are so unfairly nothing in a match up against him.

CRACK!

Because with one, harsh ram of his sharp hip bones smacking against the globes of your ass - every solid inch of his intimidating cock is slammed against your tightly cushioning walls. It’s such a ravaging intrusion and you swear you could feel him everywhere. Feel him thrumming hotly against sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Finally, buried all the way to his thick hilt, yet still nuzzling his hips upwards for more-

“S’broken.” Toji muses, and for a second you didn’t know if he was talking about you or the suspiciously sagging bed. “Plan B.” 

It takes only two seconds for his beefy arms to pick you up as if you were weightless - god, he was treating you like some object. And the only time he’s not enveloped by your heavenly cunt is when you’re being shoved down like some slut onto the cool mahogany of Toji’s work desk, his firm front pressing up against your arched back.  

“Plan C is to just fuck you into the floor until it breaks.” he snorts throatily into your ear. 

And you wondered whether it was a joke - you hoped it was a joke. You almost half-believed it until he was back to bulldozing his plump tip back into your briefly-neglected cunt. Stretching the clingy rim of muscle to bend to his round length, fully. Oh, he’ll never get used to this sight. 

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

“F-fuck you really are-” One hand of yours scrambles to blindly white-knuckle the smooth wood beneath you when Toji’s bludgeoning your pussy with powerful, long thrusts. Feeling every minute flex of his thick thighs behind your own, shuddering with each forceful hammer of his sweeping cock inside you. “-you really are in so deep.”

As if to confirm, the man himself glides down an open palm to your stomach. Pressing down hard with all five splayed-out fingers until Toji could feel the same incessant slam of his thumping cockhead, the cascading ripple of his heavy, cum-filled balls smacking against your ass. 

“Told ya- hah told ya so.” his cocky groans are whirling all throughout your mind, such a hot, melty mess with the sheer fucking stretch of Toji’s cock. “Y’know…I can’t help but imagine just how pretty you’d hngh- look all stretched out n’ swollen as a momma.”

You’re nodding deliriously, and the way his crashing thrusts were just bruising against your spongy cervix, bouncing off onto every sweetly hidden sensitive spot inside your elastic walls. “Shit- ya jus’ got wetter- ya like that? The thought of me fuckin a baby into ya?” he spits, long sloppy tongue coming up to taste the dredges of tears streaming down your face- shit, when did you even start crying? 

“Shh shhh- don’t cry–” he’s cooing, rewarding you with another heavy smack! right onto your poor clit. Every steady clash against your over-sensitive g-spot only sends a fresh wave of big fat tears for Toji to kiss at. “-don’t cry, don’t cry. Never f’me, m’never hah- gonna kill off anything that makes my pretty wife cry-” A soft, salty peck on your lips, “-n’ that includes me. If ya asked me to, ma. I’ll give ya anything you ever want.”

There’s a creaking slam! on the wooden surface, and a hasty look over your shoulder shows that Toji has hiked his knee up onto the desk. For a second, you wonder whether it hurt - whether the throbbing shaft of his cock wasn’t rubbed raw by now, whether his abs weren’t just burning with movement. Fucking you so recklessly into the desk.

But oh, you think Toji Zenin would care?

You think he would give a fuck about anything other than rutting riotously into your gripping cunt? Drilling into you again and again until your tip-toes don’t even reach the ground at the force of his pressurized thrusts. The change in angle has his leaky tip glide glossy lines right across the bottom of your dripping pussy and pressing down harshly onto your g-spot. So rough. So mean. You’re scrambling further and further up the desk and-

“Now now-” Toji hoists your weak hips up ever-so-slightly back to him, before pinning you to the desk with his full, heavy bodyweight. “No running away. Heh…how funny would it be if I actually did jus’ hngh- fuck a baby into ya right now?” His fingers get so sloppy on your clit, “Fill ya up- rub an heir right in everyone’s faces?”

“Shit- m’so close- again-” Your ears are popping at the pure saturated stimulation when his hand down below rolls over your clit. Desperate. Depraved. Glossing up the curve of his thick thumb with all the sweet slick beading out with each broken thrust. It’s like he was out of control - losing his fucking mind. And your delirious mind wondered whether you’d be next, that faint cracking of joints certainly not boding well for either of you. “Toji, m’gonna-”

He’s so erratic - sloppy. And so it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - fuck, you didn’t even realize it at first.

So hard that your vision flashes red and white, breathing raggedly gasping in lungfuls as you rock your sticky hips back into Toji’s so greedily. Your voice is shot - because you’re moaning Toji’s name so loud that it almost felt disrespectful, echoing across the sex-thickened air. “Tha’s right- scream as loud as you want, ma. It’s just us in this house.”

And maybe it was that - maybe it was the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down hard around his achy length - maybe it was just the way you’re whispering out such saccharine sweet, “Cum inside.”

Because Toji’s fractured sanity can only handle a few more unkindly bullying drives into your gushing cunt before he’s cumming and cumming so much he thinks he might die. 

Doesn’t know if he can - if he wants to - stop.

“Oh- ohhh fuck- didn’t think I’d actually-” You feel a branding bite inside the crook of your neck as his sloppy white seed splatters at your inner thigh with each rummaging thrust forward. Oozing down in messy, thick dredges. “-hngh- gonna fill you up so good- until you can’t take it anymore.” You didn’t know if you already could - because you felt so full. Toji’s syrupy cum sloshing around with each ram of his hips, coating your walls in a creamy, slick-like sheen on the inside. 

“Yes–” you sigh over another splintering crack! from somewhere, “Fuck fuck fuck- need you to- hngh, wanna make you a daddy- give you an heir, To-”

It’s as if he couldn’t bear to hear your swollen lips part with his name, because Toji’s shutting you up with a sweltering kiss. Still mounted and rutting into you so animalistically, “the best- the best momma, you’re gonna be the best momma-” he hushes into your mouth. Pliantly kneading your body into a sinful arch for him, you barely even register it when he’s carrying you away. Two thick fingers pooling his glistening cum, inching them back into your stretched-out cunt - “Don’t waste a single drop now- hngh- fuck, you’ll look so pretty all full.”

Before you know it, you’re being sprawled out so easily on the clean tatami mats below, face down, your hips being propped up by one of Toji’s. And in your bleary peripheral vision, you could just about make out how ruined that desk was - how broken. How the fuck haven’t either of you broken any bones, yet?

Or maybe you have - you wouldn’t even know at this point, because Toji was still slamming into your poor, overspilling pussy again. His harsh grunt puffs out in a feverish breath against your ear, “Told ya I was gonna ruin you, doll. Better get ready-” He’s punctuating each word with a sloppy, sold thrust, pace picking up to fuck you so thoroughly into the floor. “Because I have a Plan D and a Plan E until m’sure you’re givin’ me an heir.”

A/N. Ooo what if I made a clan leader series? Thoughts?

They turn to see Shiro standing nearby, Yuuma behind him with a folding chair. “Do you need anything else, nii-san?” Yuuma asks as he sets it right next to Clair.

“I’m good here, thanks.” Shiro gently ruffles his brother’s hair.

“Stop that!” Though Yuuma’s tone is more delighted than irritated.

“Go play already.”

He grins before bounding off to where Trinnie, Keahi, Jas, and Vincent are hanging out. Is that Louie over there too? Good for him.

Clair scoots to the edge of the bench, tugging Philip along with her. “It’s getting colder. We should cozy up.”

“I’ll never say no to that.” Shiro gingerly settles into the chair, only grimacing once before draping a blanket across his lap. “Want to share?”

“Yeah, let’s share.”

Then Philip leans across her toward Shiro. “So about me being unfairly charming—“

“No, it doesn’t extend to those comics that you love so much.”

“Dammit!”

Shells | Part 75 (shelliott stardew fic)

all parts | <- previous | next ->

together again :) the gooberest goobers :)

he wipes his hands on a rag, his movements steady, not rushed. his eyes flick over the other men first, completely and utterly unimpressed with them. and then they settle on you, and they soften, just a little bit.

"you talkin’ numbers already?" he asks the men, his voice low and rough around the edges, his eyes flicking back over to you, gaze roving up your form, noticing the way you seemed to have shrunk a little bit under the other men.

the men shift awkwardly, one shrugging. "just tellin’ her what its gonna cost."

his gaze doesnt leave them. hes not aggressive, but something in his tone and gaze makes them straighten up a little bit.

"did ya even check the damn car?" he asks, one eyebrow raised, tone still completely unimpressed with the men.

silence. the men dont reply, one of them scoffing as he shifts where he stands, his movements sheepish. toji exhales through his nose, like he expected that answer. then he steps closer, not to them, but to you.

you notice the heat of him. the faint scent of oil and metal and something clean underneath. his hands are big when he rests one against the edge of your hood, leaning in to glance at the engine.

"what’s it doin’?" he asks, voice low, gaze assessing.

you explain what happened again. the rattle when you accelerate, the little jerk in the drive. he listens properly this time, eyes on the engine, his head tilting slightly as you talk. he hums low in his throat, "when'd it start?"

"..not too long ago," you answer softly, your voice quiet.

he nods once, thoughtfu. he glances at you from under his lashes. theres something almost amused in his eyes now. his voice is rough when he speaks, his hand patting the hood of your car. "engines fine," he says, "if it was that, youd know."

one of the men behind him mutters something under his breath, and toji doesnt even bother sparing him another glance. "ain't a big deal," he continues calmly, already reaching for a tool. "nothin’ dramatic."

your stomach unclenches a little.

he moves around the car with easy confidence, his strides long, hands sure as he checks things quickly. he works like he owns the place without ever saying he does. after a moment, he glances back at you, catching you watching.

"you can breathe," he says lightly. "aint gonna explode on you."

theres the smallest hint of a smirk in his expression now, but its not mocking. "you drive it rough?” he adds, brow lifting slightly.

theres a faint curve to his mouth when he says it, its not a grin, not cocky. just something warm tugging at the corner of his lips, like he finds your worry more endearing than anything else.

heat creeps up your neck before you can answer, and he huffs quietly through his nose, shaking his head once like hes already decided something.

"dont matter," he murmurs, his tone steady. "we'll fix it,"

the other men have gone silent by now, tools clinking faintly somewhere behind you, but he doesnt spare them a glance. his attention is fixed on your car as he leans back under the hood. the stretch of his shoulders pulls his shirt tight across his back, the fabric straining slightly as his arms flex, his fingers working confidently, his jaw tightens slightly as he gives something a firm twist, metal clicking into place.

then he steps back, wiping his hands slowly down the rag, eyes scanning over the engine one more time like he doesnt trust anything if it isnt perfect.

"try it now," he says, stepping aside for you. you turn the key, and the engine hums smoothly. tjeres no rattle, no stutter at all. for a second, the only sound is that even, smooth purr coming from the car.

he exhales softly, almost satisfied, and gives a small nod to himself. "told ya," he says, wiping his hands again. he wipes his hands on his rag, cleaning the grease off his fingers before throwing the rag back on the tool rack.

"next time ya got a problem, you ask for me. yeah?" he rasps out, the words lingering. "names toji."

he reaches into the pocket of his work shirt, pulling out a small receipt slip and a pen. his handwriting is surprisingly neat for someone who looks like he lives under car hoods. he scribbles something down, then folds the paper once before holding it out to you.

"thats my number," he says, his tone casual. but his eyes stay on you, steady. "call me direct. dont gotta deal with 'em." he says, reffering to the assholes from before.

your fingers brush his when you take the paper. you hesitate for half a second, then tuck the paper carefully into your pocket.

"thank you," you say softly, not just for the number.

his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary. then he shrugs one shoulder, that faint almost smile returning on his face.

"drive safe, doll." he murmurs.

you nod, climbing back into your car. when you pull out of the garage, you catch a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. his arms are crossed now, broad under the harsh shop lights, his gaze watching until youre fully out of sight.

taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @jadajadajadaaa @kyovern @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976

a/n: thank you for requesting this!! after some thinking (i thought for five minutes), i lowk decided to make this a new series since i love the concept sm, so y'all pls request mechanic toji stuff!! also can you guys tell i dont know fuck all about cars. i really like this trope...something about toji getting down and dirty in the car shop makes me giggle and blush. also i know this fic is lowk dry and nothing much happens, i just wrote it so i can stem from it when writing new mechanic toji fics...does that make sense? 🌚🌚🌚

Sub!Harvey who wasn't sure about this at first.

Sub!Harvey who had never had anything up there before.

Sub!Harvey who was scared, sure, but tingling at the idea.

Sub!Harvey who trusted you with his life.

Sub!Harvey who whimpered as you loosened him up with a finger lubed up by being put in his mouth.

Sub!Harvey who, fuck, would do anything for you.

Sub!Harvey who needed this more than either of you could have known.

Sub!Harvey who looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, panting and shaking from your touch.

Sub!Harvey who loved you more than ever.

Sub!Harvey who cried out as you reached around to touch his sensitive tip.

Sub!Harvey who begged you for more, whining your name as you entered him.

Sub!Harvey who came as you fucked into him in rhythm with your hand's careful strokes.

Sub!Harvey who couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else, or wanting to, for that matter.

Sub!Harvey who was yours, all yours.