uhhhh...line?

you really did think he was joking, but the way you're stuffed to the brim with dick, ready to be bred, you're wholly wrong.

"'m—fuck!— sorry!" brain hazy, you babble apologies endlessly. there's no telling if he's actually listening to (or cares) about them; he's too busy thrusting impossibly deep, fucking like he wants twins.

if it weren't for your current mental state, embarrassment would be charging through you. exposed is an understatement for your soul-bearing position. you're completely entwined, bodies moving in effortless synchronicity.

the worst part is how he's fucking you: firm and deep, hips snapping, yet not rough or unnecessarily fast. though he's trying to control himself, you can't help but feel how desperately he wants to fill you with his seed.

"need me to fill you up, don't you?"

you moan whorishly at his words. "yes, ken, yesyesyes!"

no man but nanami can fuck you like this, break you into fine pieces with his body alone, then put you back together again with affection worthy of endless praise.

"open up for me," he murmurs, strained voice bouncing around in your empty head. he says it innocently as can be, at least, as innocently as he can while buried inside of you.

you oblige quickly, but not quick enough for nanami.

a strong hand hoists your legs up, hips aching slightly from the new angle. maneuvered into a mating press, you're caged by nothing but sweaty, entangled limbs.

the new angle has him massaging your sweet spots on every down stroke. your poor ass jiggles from the force of his precise thrusts. he feels how you clench around him so tightly, wondering if you'll do the same while carrying his child.

your blissed out look has his balls tightening and his mind racing. just as your head rolls for the nth time, his hand grips your jaw to face him.

"which is better? me, or the game?"

the question comes from left field. delirious, your face crinkles into confusion. he picks up on it easily, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear.

"which is better, baby? our kids, or the fake ones?" his voice is even, but you can still hear the uptick in his voice at the mention of the reason you're folded up in the first place.

"o-ours," you mumble.

"perfect answer, gorgeous." he places a tender kiss on your forehead, cradling it in his warm hands.

you don't notice the humour of the situation, too hungry to care about anything but cumming or being cummed in. fortunately for you, nanami is still committed to finishing both of you off.

for every nudge of his head against your deepest corners, you're an inch closer to that sweet release. he could cum anytime now, yet he holds himself back, and for good reason— giving you the first taste of heaven will assure that his seed takes.

thankfully, he won't need to hold back much longer.

"kento," you mewl, "it's close!"

"what's close, baby?"

you mewl again, fumbling around the question. "i need to cum, ken!"

nanami's thrusts suddenly turn unbearable. he takes on a new angle, hips shifted just right. god, it's so overstimulating, has you gripping his arms for dear life. he pushes you right to that edge, nearly makes you finish early. his head throws back at the vice of your cunt, pussy squeezing so hard in hopes of not disobeying your lover.

on the edge of his own orgasm, he pauses for the first time in what feels like hours. fully seated inside, he grants you that sweet, sweet, permission.

"cum for me, mama."

and you do, so fucking hard.

your body reacts before you can. eyes fully rolled back, legs locked and walls clamped, you cum harder than ever. pleasure has taken hold of you and there's no stopping it. a small "i'm cumming" is caught in your throat on a silent scream.

"theeere, you go. just cum for me." he lowers his forehead to yours in unbearable ecstasy. his eyes gulp down every twitch of your face with need. the exact start, peak, and drawn out end of your earth shattering orgasm is tattooed to the back of his eyelids.

the sight sends him over the edge. he finishes with a painful groan against your quivering lips. overstimulated, he can't bear the pleasure of his orgasm, either. he nearly collapses on top of you.

the mattress rocks under the force of him, his jerking hips shaking it. he stays buried deep, afraid that if he pulls out too far, precious seed will spill; an insult to your shared hard work.

both of you take a long moment to fully come down from your highs. nanami doesn't get off of you immediately despite being covered in sweat from golden crown to toe.

you stay slotted together for a while—legs spread lazily, slick and filled to the brim with cum.

"see," he whispers against your skin, "our kids are better than that lurid game's."

"we don't have any kids, dummy," you argue with the last of your strength. he huffs a laugh, warm air tickling your skin.

"in 40 weeks, we will. dummy."

masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred @tojisgdgirl @mimicosmos8

a/n: wait why did i cook this

masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred

a/n: smut ver coming soon i hope

You're walking around the street alone, dress and hair sticking to your body from the rain, heels nowhere to be found, and mascara running down your puffy cheeks. 

You were supposed to meet up at your boyfriend's place for your anniversary dinner. You spent hours on your look. From the products you put in your hair, to the dress that accentuates your gorgeous figure, all the way down to the heels you bought for this occasion. You guys were planning on going to a well known restaurant downtown—well more like you were planning it. Your boyfriend kind of let you take the reins on the whole thing. You made the reservation months in advance and made sure to tell him everyday to cancel any work plans he had that day. So, it is a shocker to you when you walk up to his place, open the door with the spare key he gave you, and see some bitch bouncing on your boyfriend's dick like she has all the time in the world. 

You stand there in shock, but it seems like they haven't noticed you from the loud moaning and slapping of skin. So, you decide to do what any normal person would do—scream and start smashing his shit. 

You first grab the nearest vase and throw it straight at the wall near their heads grabbing their attention. "The fuck?" screams the chick who's name you don't even care to know. You then take off your heels and chuck each at both of them.

"You asshole! How could you do this to me? After everything we've been through, you fuck it up for some whore?" Your eyes are stinging with tears but you don't dare let them fall. You grab another vase that coincidently contains flowers that you bought him on a whim one day. 

"No baby i'm sorry please, it was an accident! She doesn't mean anything I swear!" He has his arms out trying to calm you down. But you are way past calm right now. Not after you've been calm about everything else during this relationship.

The woman stands up and smacks him, "Oh I don't mean anything? That's funny since you were pumping my pussy full of cum for months!" Then everything inside you freezes.

"Months?" You shakily ask. 

The woman slowly walks up to you with her hands out, "He's been seeing me for around five months. He never mentioned that he was in a relationship. I promise I would have never gotten with him if he was." 

Your blood had run cold, the both of you have been together for about a year. You were going to celebrate that year tonight. A year where you thought you finally met the love of your life, your soulmate, the person you called home. The image shattered completely in the past five minutes. 

Slowly, you put the vase down, your eyes move to look at their faces one final time, you turn on your bare heels, and walk out the door with the little bit of dignity you have left. 

・❥・

Now back to the present, you are aimlessly walking the dark street. Heartbroken and really fucking hungry, you notice a shop's light on. You trudge your way over to the warm lighting and walk in. With the bell announcing your presence, you take in the atmosphere—soft lights, glass display counter with various pastries that look absolutely delectable, small tables surrounding you, and a little cash register. As you are looking around, you don't notice the two tall shadows looming over you until a large hand is on your shoulder. 

"Excuse me miss?" A deep voice rumbled behind you. Startled, you quickly turn around and are met with two tall, handsome men. One with blonde hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, and a stern look with a bit of softness in his eyes. The other has dark brown hair, gloomy eyes, and a slightly aquiline nose. Both are beautiful and you start to feel a bit self conscious of your appearance. 

"Oh! Hello, I'm sorry for coming in so late, this place was the only one I saw that still had their lights on." You say as your eyes meet the blonde haired man. 

"It's alright, but we are closed, we were just cleaning up." The blonde man gestures towards the clock, it reading half past nine. 

You politely apologise again and turn to leave but the other man stops you with a hand on your shoulder, "Are you alright? You're soaked and barefoot." He points out. 

You don't know why but the way these two men are looking at you have you tearing up again. They look at each other once, a silent conversation occurring between them and they immediately start moving. One of them moves you to sit on a chair while the other grabs a towel from the kitchen in the back. 

"Are you hungry sweetheart?" The brunette one questions. 

"No, I'm alright thank you." You lie. But, right after you say this, your stomach growls in the silence of the bakery. He softly smiles and rises from his chair. 

"What would you like to eat? We have an assortment of pastries to pick from." He motions his head over to the display case of pastries. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the single slice of strawberry shortcake in the case. He notices how your eyes shine bright when you eye the cake. "That's our most popular one, would you like a slice? It's free of charge." He asks you but is already donning gloves to plate it for you. 

Once he sets down the cake with a plastic fork, you immediately start digging in. The taste was phenomenal—from the decadent taste of the strawberries, the sponge of the cake, and the way the whipped cream melts on your tongue, you feel like you've tasted a piece of heaven. Not to mention it was served by a very attractive man. 

While you are eating, the blonde man comes out with a soft towel and drapes it over your shoulder. You then look up from your plate to see them both looking fondly upon you. Placing your fork down on your plate you thank them both for the delicious cake and ask them for their names. 

"Nanami Kento." The blonde responds.

"Higuruma Hiromi." answers the brunette. 

"Thank you, to the both of you." You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. They scoot a little closer to you, one on either side of you. 

Nanami places a gentle hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently, "What happened darling?" 

"Its a long story but overall, my boyfriend of a year cheated on me the day of our anniversary." You choke out, trying not to cry in front of these attractive bakers. 

"Forgive me for saying this sweetheart but he's a fucking idiot." Higuruma scoffs, absolutely appalled at the fact that someone could hurt someone as beautiful as you. That someone could make tears run down those gorgeous cheeks. 

You laugh at that statement which puts a smile on his face. "I should have seen this coming, I mean you should have seen the girl he was with. She had the body of a model—perfect skin, hair, face. I could never compete." They make eye contact with each other with a frown, then a slow smirk makes way to their faces. 

"How would you like to come over to our place? I really don't recommend that you are by yourself during a time like this." Nanami suggests, Higuruma nodding along. 

You wave your hands in front of you trying to decline their offer, "Oh I really couldn't impose on you both. This is something I have to deal with by myself." 

"We insist, please consider our offer." Higuruma interjects. 

Your mind is all over the place at the moment. You catch your boyfriend cheating on you, then you end up in a bakery with two handsome bakers that want to take you home with them. 

"You know what? Fuck it let's go." 

・❥・

Nanami picks you up as if you weighed nothing and carries you to their car because of your lack of shoes. Once he places you in the back seat, cushioned leather seats providing you a sense of comfort, Higuruma sits in the passenger seat and Nanami starts the car. The car roars to life as you all head to their place. 

Once you arrive, you notice how nice their complex looks. Tall building with sleek glass windows reflecting everything in view. Before you could open the car door, Higuruma already beat you to it—opening the door and immediately picking you up without breaking a sweat so you don't have to touch the ground with your bare feet. 

He carries you with Nanami trailing behind him to the elevator, clicks a floor number and you all stand there as the elevator slowly rises. It is silent until you start giggling, finding this entire ordeal hilarious. The men look at you a bit confused until they chuckle to themselves as well—deep voices rumbling off the walls and Higuruma's chest sending calming vibrations throughout your body. 

The elevator door dings as you all reach their floor. You make it inside the apartment and it's a very cozy atmosphere. Dim lighting all around, small kitchen enough for two people, a living room with some soft throw blankets, and a little coffee table with some magazines. 

Higuruma finally places you down on the hardwood floor and they both watch you walk further in, admiring the slight gleam in your eyes as you take in the place. Nanami speaks up, "Would you like to take a shower?" He offers and your eyes immediately perk up. This whole situation had your mind so scrambled that you didn't even realize that you looked a mess. 

"Yes please." You respond thankful, walking with him to the bathroom. He hands you a towel, toothbrush, and spare pajamas that definitely belong to one of them. You close the door to the bathroom and actually take a good look at yourself in the mirror over the sink. Your face streaked with mascara and eyeliner, eyes puffy, hair damp, and dress slowly drying up. You look like a mess and everything comes back to the forefront of your brain. The way the woman was on top of him, the shock in his face for being caught, the shattered vase, all of it comes back. Your eyes begin watering again and you start to sniffle, then sob, finally allowing yourself to break. 

Removing your clothes, you step in the shower to hopefully wash off this whole night. You scrub your face hard enough to wash off every remnant of your tears, wash the rain water out of your hair, and scrub the rest of your body. 

Stepping out of the shower, you change into the clothes they lended you. Large tshirt over the clean boxers that hug your thighs and ass beautifully. Brushing your teeth— you take a look into the mirror again at your much cleaner state. You walk out of the bathroom and you hear movement coming from another room. Following the sounds of footsteps and rustling, you reach a bedroom. Peeking inside you see both men folding blankets and fluffing pillows. They notice you at the door and with gentle smiles, gesture for you to come in. 

"You can stay here as long as you would like." Nanami said. "We will take the couches."

You don't know why you said the next words that came out of your mouth but something about the way they have looked at you, made a warmth bloom in your chest, so you told them, "If it's not too much trouble, you could both say here with me? The bed is big enough for all three of us." 

They stare at you for a beat before nodding and you all get comfortable on the king size bed. Nanami lying on your left and Higuruma your right, and you—surrounded by the warmth of two men who came to your rescue, you all drift off to sleep. 

・❥・

The sun is shining through the blinds when you wake up alone in bed. The warmth of the two bakers gone. You look around for any sign of them until your eyes stumble across a note on the nightstand:

We left for the bakery, you may help yourself to anything in our home. Stop by around closing to try our new poundcake recipe.

Nanami: xxx-xxx-xxxx 

Higuruma: xxx-xxx-xxxx

Text or call us if you need anything. 

You smile at the note and grab your phone to put both of their numbers in. Not wanting to go to the solitude of your apartment, you decide to lounge around the apartment for the day, preparing small meals for yourself—not really feeling like eating but have to for the sake of your health. 

Once you check the clock, you see that it is almost closing at the bakery. You don't want to show up wearing pajamas so you call for a ride to your house to freshen up. Once you've changed you make your way to the bakery. Walking through the door, you don't see anyone around so you call out to them. There was no answer but you hear the clash of some type of pot or pan and you immediately head towards the back area. 

As you get closer to the kitchen, you hear groans along with small smacking noises. When you finally reach the noise, what you see makes your jaw drop for the second time in 24 hours. There in the kitchen is Nanami and Higuruma deeply making out with one another. Higuruma leaning against a metal table in the center of the kitchen while Nanami is roughly gripping his hips. 

You're standing there for a good two minutes watching them shove their tongues down each other's throats before Higuruma notices your presence. He pulls away from Nanami and that makes him turn to you as well. 

"Hello sweetheart, are you enjoying the show?" Higuruma chuckles.

"I-I didn't mean to stare, I just heard a loud bang and-" 

"It's alright darling," Nanami interrupts, "You can join if you'd like."

"But you told me to come over to try a new poundcake reci-" You cut yourself off, finally connecting the dots.

"Ah~ you finally understood the message," Higuruma says while slowly walking up to you, circling you like a shark—Nanami doing the same. 

On any other day, a situation like this would make you feel scared and disgusted, but right now, you just feel a heat pooling down in your core. A heat that only they could fix. 

"Tell us you don't want this sweetheart, and we'll stop." Nanami whispers in your ear. 

Your face feels like it's on fire from their intense stares. Both of them come closer to you, invading your space and filling your senses with their scent. Higuruma plants a soft kiss on your neck which makes you moan softly. Nanami follows suit with a sweet kiss on the other side of your neck. "Please, don't stop." 

You are then grabbed by the waist and pulled against Higuruma's chest, his hands roaming your plump body. Namami's hands find purchase on your chest, lightly squeezing and grazing your nipples through the fabric of your shirt. Higuruma's hands slide down to your soft hips and he rubs small circles in an almost comforting gesture. 

"May I take this off?" Nanami tugs at the hem of your top. You nod, but that's not enough for him, "Use your words darling." He watches your eyes intensely as you open your mouth to speak, "Yes, please." He smiles and slowly lifts the garment over your head, exposing your torso to the slight chill in the air. He moves a hand to the back of your bra, unclipping it slowly to give you time if you want to back out. Once he removes it, he lightly grazes your pebbling nipples with the pads of his thumbs. 

"Gorgeous," He murmurs seemingly to himself, "So perfect."

He leans down to kiss the valley of your breasts while Higuruma watches. You move your hand to the nape of his neck, breathing heavy at the softness of his lips touching your skin. Higuruma's hands drift lower to take off your skirt and graze his fingertips over your cute panties. 

Your breath hitches when he pulls them to the side and pulls apart your drenched folds with his index and middle finger, exposing your cunt to the air. "Your drenched baby—did watching us make out turn you on that much?" He chuckles in your ear, the rumbling from his chest making your body burn with need. 

He takes his fingers and starts to slowly rub small circles on your clit, drawing soft moans from your throat. Nanami catches your moans in a long kiss, his tongue grazing your bottom lip to grant him access and you open your mouth wider to let him in. The kiss is sloppy, wet, still trying to catch up with his rhythm. You moans grow louder as Higuruma sticks a finger inside your warm hole, groaning at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him tight. He whispers in your ear, "Relax sweetheart, let us take care of you." 

Nanami releases your lips from that bruising kiss, leaving you in a daze. He holds your face in his large hands, thumbs slightly brushing your cheeks, "What would you like us to do sweet girl? This is for you." You look into his eyes that are boring into yours and you whisper, "I need your mouth, here." You gesture towards your pussy that is currently being filled by Higuruma's fingers. 

Letting go of your face, Nanami slowly goes down on his knees, breathing over your spread lips before licking a long stripe up from Higuruma's fingers to your clit. You let out a loud moan that is cut off by Higuruma turning your head to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 

The only noises in the kitchen are the squelching wetness of Nanami's tongue and Higuruma's fingers going in and out of your pussy—both of them going faster once your moans become louder and you start to clench around them. It all reaches a peak once he presses against that soft spot inside of you, making you see stars, "ohmygod—fuuuck" you moan as you release all over his fingers and Nanami's face. 

They let you take a breath by placing you on top of the counter in the center of the room. You watch them get undressed completely, removing their chef jackets, aprons, and trousers until they are in nothing but their shoes. 

"Are you okay sweet girl? Do you think you can handle both of us?" Nanami smirks at your shocked expression, but you get off the table to stand in front of him. You start wiggling your hips, rubbing your ass against Nanami's cock but he stops you. You're confused until you look up and see Higuruma standing in front of you holding a container of what appears to be buttercream and a spatula. 

He opens the container, sticks a finger inside and scoops a little bit of the cream, and smears it on your lips. You stick out your tongue and you pause. It tasted amazing—it wasn't too sweet or dense, the perfect balance of light and fluffy. Nanami turns your head towards him to lick the remaining cream off, moaning into your mouth. 

"Delicious," Nanami moans into your mouth, "I could get used to this."

You giggle as you lean down to plant a feather light kiss to the tip of Higuruma's cock. His breath hitches as you go from a kiss to kitten licks. While you are doing this, he takes the spatula, picking up some cream and smearing a dollop on your back. He places the container and spatula down on the table and grabs some of your hair to move you on his cock. While this is happening, Nanami grabs your ass, drags his cock over your slick and moves it inside your swollen pussy in one push. 

You moan around Higuruma's cock—the vibrations causing him to moan out into the air. With both of them filling you on both ends, they start to move—Higuruma moving forward, pushing you into Nanami, and Namani pushing you back into Higuruma. The feeling is overwhelming but feels amazing. You feel them getting closer together then hear the smacking noises that you heard earlier happening above you. You take your mouth off of Higuruma's cock and turn your head to look up and see both of them making out right over your back.

Higuruma breaks apart from Nanami to look down at you, "Did I say you could stop?" He growls as he grabs your hair and moves you back to his cock. Both men bend down to lick at the cream on your back —tongues lapping up the sticky substance before going back to roughly kissing each other. 

It is a mess of skin slapping together and moans coming from all around. You all find a comfortable rhythm. Their hands explore your whole body—groping your plump breasts, squeezing your hips, and Nanami's hand travels down to your clit. He rubs languid circles while fucking into you, pushing Higuruma's cock deeper into your mouth. 

"I bet your boyfriend couldn't ever fuck you like this. He couldn't make a gorgeous woman like yourself feel this good." Nanami's voice rumbles behind you. 

"mhmmm~" You moan around Higuruma's cock, trying to respond. 

"I think her mouth is full Kento." Higuruma laughs, pushing the rest of his cock into your warm mouth. Tears are welling up in your eyes as his happy trail tickles your nose. Your starting to feel a pressure building up in your lower stomach as you near your second orgasm of the night. You notice they are close too because of the quickening pace of their cocks. 

"Where do you want our cum baby?" One of them say but you are so fucked out you can't make out who.

You pull off Higuruma's cock to respond, "I-I want it inside-haah-please I need it." 

He grabs your face and caresses your jaw before using his other hand to grab a handful of your hair and shove your mouth back on him. You feel Nanami's hips stutter before he stills and fills up your pussy with continuous ropes of cum. 

Higuruma's iron grip in your hair tightens as he fills your throat with his cum, making you swallow every drop. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you spill all over Nanami's cock. Your legs shake almost collapsing before Nanami wraps his arms around you to hold you up. 

He carries you to sit on the table, the cold metal a distinct contrast on your warm and swollen ass from the intensity of Nanami's pelvis smacking against you. Higuruma comes to give you a glass of water and you nod your head thankful. 

"Drink up pretty, because we aren't done with you yet." Your eyes refocus on Higuruma's hungry gaze, "You still haven't come on my cock."

After tonight, your life was changed, forever.

a/n: Here it is guysss, I really hope you enjoyed reading it! This is from a poll that I posted a while back so I tagged everyone who commented under that post and the teaser I posted. So, if you wanna be tagged in any future works, let me know! Plz remember to take care of yourselves however that may look like, take breaks when you need to, and remember that i'm rooting for you regardless of your situation. Love you all so much <3

~ likes, reblog, and comments are greatly appreciated <3

~ dividers by @designlikenonsense and someone plz lmk where the last divider comes from I completely forgot (i'm sorry) ~ art by @ilameys_1 on instagram

taglist: @connorwhatsup @leedoesntexist @liahcharms @mitskisaveme @atelphobist @lumigum1 @soligher @lostinsmut @crybabymina @kamislop @iconicallyher @alebrasil0101 @t0jisbunny @6x-x9

Nope.

Nope nope nope.

Don't think about it.

But he wants to.

Fuck he wants to so fucking bad it's driving him insane.

He's never actually seen anything. He's not that guy. He's not a creep. He doesn't hide outside your window or install spyware on your phone or follow you when you say you're going out with her.

And he doesn't—he doesn't—have a pair of her panties in the back of his closet right now, the ones she left at your apartment that one time, the ones you mentioned in passing that she was looking for and he said "huh, weird, I haven't seen them" while his heart hammered against his ribs because they were folded in a ziplock bag in his winter coat pocket.

He doesn't know why he took them.

He's not going to do anything with them.

He just... has them.

For safety. For evidence of your cheating. For—

Okay okay fine!!

He's jerked off into them twice.

Just twice okay??

And he hates himself. Because it's like he's cheating on you. And he's knows it's not. It's not fucking cheating!

You can't really blame him, can you?

Oh no no no no. You can't. You can't fucking blame him.

Especially because you both were rubbing your pussies together that night.

So her panties also smell like you. And technically it's not cheating because—because—because—

He's pathetic.

So, so, so fucking pathetic.

But you know what? He could be worse. He could be so much worse. He could be controlling. He could be toxic. He could say, "It's me or her, baby," and watch your face fall and then whisk you away to a nice isolated cabin where no one else can ever touch you again.

He's thought about it. He's looked at real estate listings. There's a beautiful A-frame in another city, four hours from here, no cell service, just you and him and the snow and nothing else.

But he won't.

Because he's a good boyfriend.

A good boyfriend trusts his girlfriend. A good boyfriend doesn't punish her for having close friendship with his ex. A good boyfriend swallows his jealousy and his fear and his anger and his fucking boner and smiles and says, "Tell her I said hi," even though every word tastes like shit.

He wonders what you told her about him.

Does she ask about him? Does she ask what it's like to be with him? Do you tell her he's good to you? Do you tell her he's sweet and attentive and maybe a little clingy but in an endearing way? Does she laugh and pull you closer and whisper, "Bet he can't make you cum the way I do"?

He can.

He can.

He knows everything about you. Not in a weird way—okay, maybe in a weird way, but it's fine, he's not a bad guy, he's not going to use it against you.

He knows every sound you make. Every breath. Every little expression. He knows how to rub your clit that you cum under a minute. He knows that spot on your neck that makes your eyes roll back. He knows the difference between your moans when you're close or when you're faking it, and you've never faked it with him, not once, he'd know.

So why do you need her?

Why does she get to touch you in ways he's never even been allowed to? Why does she get to hear the sounds you make when you're completely gone, the ones you maybe hold back with him because you're still performing, still being the cool girlfriend, still trying to be perfect for him when all he wants is for you to fall apart in his hands, completely, his—

He just wants to be enough.

That's all.

If he were enough, you wouldn't need anyone else. You wouldn't crave the softness of a woman's touch or the understanding of someone who shares your experiences. He'd be so good, so perfect, so everything that the thought of anyone else's hands on you would feel like a downgrade. So the fact that you still seek her out means... means he fucked up.

He fucked up as your boyfriend.

A good boyfriend would be enough.

So he needs to be better. He needs to learn. He needs to understand what she give you that he can't. He needs to watch.

Oh god, he's going to watch.

Finally.

He knows the apartment layout. He knows her bedroom window faces the fire escape. He knows she never closes the curtains properly—a gap, about three inches, just enough for a telephoto lens. Not that he'd use a camera. That would be wrong. That would be a violation. That would be... he's just going to observe okay? For research purposes. For relationship improvement. For—

He's already putting on his suit.

He's so fucked up.

He's so, so, so fucked up.

But maybe—maybe you'll catch him.

Fuck that would make him hard.

Maybe you'll look up and see his silhouette against the window and instead of screaming, instead of calling the police, instead of looking at him with the disgust he deserves, you'll smile. You'll beckon him inside. You'll say, "I was wondering when you'd finally join us."

And he'll crawl through that window and he'll be so good, he'll be so grateful, he'll do anything you ask. He'll watch. He'll participate. He'll sit in the corner and not touch himself until you give permission. He'll let her show him how to touch you properly, the way you like, the way only she knows. He'll swallow his pride and his jealousy and his burning, screaming need to be the only one and he'll learn, he'll be the best student, he'll take notes mentally and physically and—

His phone buzzes.

It's 3:12 a.m. Early. You never text before 3:15.

He grabs it so fast he nearly fumbles it off the balcony.

"Hey baby. Hope you're not waiting up. We had a really intense night. She's asleep now. I just wanted to say... I miss you. Wish you were here. Think you'd fit right in with us. ;)"

There's a photo attached.

It's you. In bed. Hair messy. Face flushed. Winking. Naked. And next to you, a lump of covers that's definitely her, and her bare arm is draped across your lower stomach with her fingers still on your pussy.

...

That's... that's good, right? That's inclusion. That's you thinking about him even in the afterglow. That's you saying, "I wish you were here." That's you saying, "You'd fit right in." That's—

That's his brain melting out his ears.

Because he's already imagining it. The three of you. He's so hard he could cut steel. He's crying a little bit. Just a tiny bit. Just one single tear of happiness. Yeah he knows it's fucked up and he hates himself for it but still.

He types back with shaking fingers: "Miss you too, beautiful. Get some sleep. Tell her I said goodnight. Dream of me. :)"

Perfect. Supportive. Green flags all over.

Then he sets the phone down, lies back on the cold rooftop tiles, and stares at the stars while his erection throbs against his zipper. He doesn't touch it. He doesn't deserve to. Not yet. Not until he's learned everything. Not until he's so good at loving you that you never need anyone else again.

He'll start tomorrow.

Tonight, he just lies there, replaying your message in his head. "You'd fit right in with us." Us. You and her. And a space, maybe, for him. If he's good enough. If he earns it.

He'll earn it.

He'll be so good.

He'll be the best fucking boyfriend in the world, and he'll start by learning exactly what it is that makes you cum on her tongue.

For himself.

For love.

For you.

If you want to be in my DC taglist let me know :)

You nodded, bending to lift the manhole cover aside. "As a car crash, Kento."

Kento shoved the manhole cover the rest of the way with his foot, and a growl. His handsome face twisted, and his stomach rumbled, and you felt yourself pale under the anger thudding off him.

"I'll go first," he clipped, his beautiful brown shoes beginning to click down the ladder, with his blade between his teeth and his voice muffling around it, "and we'll get this over with."

Hours, hours later, Nanami Kento flung himself out of the manhole, soaked to the bone, spitting curses like venom. You followed him, a drowned rat, and watched the finely woven threads of him fall apart at the seams.

Kento stalked through the streetlamp-lit rain to his car, his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets. His hair was ruined, his glasses shattered, and his suit soaked and torn, sticking to the peaks and planes of his electrified body.

"Come along," Kento barked behind him, and you jolted to attention, drawn in by the jabbing authority in his voice. You watched him, feeling a blush creep up your neck, as he ripped his clothes off with utter abandon, and replaced them with sweatpants and a t-shirt stored in the boot of his car. His slim eyes glared, hands flinging, and he thrust an enormous hoodie at you in stony silence.

Even his rage was gentlemanly, and he turned his back on you while you stripped to your underwear, and changed. You felt indescribably naked in just a hoodie and so, like any good man, Kento bustled you into his passenger seat, and joined you, warming the car up.

Kento drove without speaking. You side-eyed him, and though you knew his irritation was not for you, you knew one wrong word would incite a clipped sarcasm. Kento skid the car to a halt, eventually, and turned to you, flat-eyed and cold.

"What do you want?"

So many ways that question could be answered, and they fought for precedence in your mouth. In the end, you just looked at him, dumbly. Kento huffed, a smirk playing on the edge of his mouth. He rolled down his window, to a drive-through speaker, and repeated himself.

"What," Kento enunciated, "do you want?"

Whatever you ordered, despite your appetite, couldn't have been a quarter of what Kento did. You found yourself stunned again, to see Kento sat in sweatpants and a t-shirt, still damp and mussed, cramming a burger into his mouth at breakneck speed. He'd have been a quiet eater, but the satisfied noises he made were sinful. He tip-tapped his third box of fries, and tipped the last handful into his mouth with a happy groan.

You felt heat pool in your belly to see him looking like, well...just a guy. Just a big, hungry guy, pissed off with work and slumming it. You didn't realise you were staring until Kento reached over without looking, and urged your hovering hand closer to your mouth.

"Eat," he grumbled, "I know I'm not exactly civilised right now, but don't let it put you off your food."

You swallowed hard, chewing through a chicken nugget, "It's, uh...its not that." Kento shot you a challenging side-eye, "It's...kind of sexy. Seeing you so...so comfortable."

Kento froze. He dropped a pinch of fries back into the box, closing his eyes and shielding them with one long-fingered hand. You felt the prickling, queasy heat of embarrassment spread from your stomach up. You opened your mouth to apologise, mortified, before Kento spoke, his voice gravelly.

"Don't say something like that," he warned, low and groaning, "don't say something like that-- when you're in my clothes in the passenger seat, and all of my decency has gone out of the window--"

You looked at him. He looked at you. He swallowed hard to feel his cock twitch to life, his grey sweatpants barely hiding how he swelled. You reached over to swipe mustard off the corner of his mouth with your thumb, and licked it off, not breaking eye contact. Kento's eyes darkened, and he almost laughed.

All pretence of good society was shattered. By the time the doors closed on the lift up to Kento's apartment, he had lifted your thighs around his waist to carry you, and taste your lips on the way. You and Kento staggered into his apartment like this, spinning, thudding into the walls, knocking a vase off the table, kissing, nipping, biting, groaning, unhinged and unsupervised.

You squealed with laughter when Kento threw you onto his sofa, and climbed on top of you, rolling along until you were on top and he was on top and you were on top and he was on top and--

"Fuck--" Kento rumbled into the plush of your belly, "--fuck-- sorry-- utterly disrespectful--" He groaned again, cursing and leaving his mark in blooming petals, to hear you whimper.

"--disrespect me harder--"

"Shit-- yes please--"

Kento practically ripped his hoodie over your head, his hands clutching at your bared body with trembling force. He panted, shuddering. His eyes pleaded with you; as if they had to. With gritted teeth, he dragged your hips to the edge of the sofa, and swiped your panties aside to delve his tongue into your sweet heat to continue his meal.

You thought (in a nebulous way, between whimpering bursts of pleasure), that Kento must have gone mad. He couldn't restrain himself, even, from hooking his weeping cock out above his sweatpants, and stroking himself in time with his wet, hungry suckles on your clit. Kento had thrown off the shackles of propriety with a roar, and he cried his relief into your cunt like you were aqua vita.

"Ken--" you cried, your voice cracking to hear him answer you with pre-cum slick plap-plap-plaps of his fist and rusty moans, "Ken-- can't-- ungh, fuck, I'm gonna--"

Kento didn't think twice, delving his free hand between your thighs to sink two long fingers inside you, yanking your orgasm from you with devastatingly accurate, come-fucking-hither-strokes.

You arched off the sofa with a breaking cry. Kento released his cock, now angry and needy, with a shudder, just to hold you to his mouth so he could taste you through your orgasm. You twitched, jerking and incoherent; Kento dragged it out until you convulsed, your ecstasy made sharp with involuntary little moans of his name.

"--not done disrespecting you--" Kento hissed, pressing you back as you moved to sit up, "--not until I'm dripping out of you, just for me to fuck it back in again-- good girl--"

You clapped your hand over your mouth, in disbelief at the utter filth coming from this beige man. Kento scoffed, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He pressed his sweatpants down just enough to free his heavy, aching balls. He stroked his cock head between your folds, making you twitch every time his slit caught on your clit, giving himself a sly pussyjob and bearing over you to rumble against your lips.

"I thought the tie would have been a dead giveaway," Kento whispered, and before you could answer, filled you to the brim with one smooth roll of his hips. You squealed again, and Kento clapped his hand over your mouth, as if you catch the sound and bottle it for later. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your cries muffled behind his hand. Kento dragged his cock back out of your slick, inch by torturous inch.

"Hold onto something-- pull my fucking hair-- good girl--"

Kento took you at a relentless pace, blond hair flopping in his eyes, still scratched and bruised from your mission, and his eyes alight with bliss. You fell apart beneath him, rammed against the back of the sofa, feeling him belly deep, tugging his hair and sinking your teeth into his forearm until he hissed with pleasure. You mewled, blinded by the insistent thrusts to your core.

"F-fuck m-meee-eeee-eeee, ohhhh-hhh, Ken-- where's Ken-- where's Kento gone--"

Kento laughed, breathless and stilted, and plaiting his fingers with yours to pin your arms above your head. His pace never faltered, and he nuzzled into your throat, scoffing, "--same man-- same-- same man-- just one bad day away-- shit, I won't last-- squeeze me harder-- unnnnghhh l-- I'm gonna come--"

Kento's fingers fumbled against your clit, sloppy and harsh and dragging another orgasm from you, and coming with a bark as you dragged his out of him. As promised, he filled you, with ropes of seed so long and thick, that his balls must have received the same let go memo.

You watched Kento through his ecstasy; buckled over you, a sweating, stone-carved beauty, released from the confines of his cage. He shook with exertion, eyeing you with shrewd reproach.

"You tell no-one," Kento growled, tickling your ribs when you began to laugh, his cum dripping where you remained joined, "you tell no-one--"

"Or what?" You squealed, tugging him down by the hair. Kento bit into your neck, burying himself deeper inside you in challenge. You felt him twitch back to life, and shivered, a bunny in the jaws of a bear.

"Or I'll put my suit back on."

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-

it's so small of a movement that you might have imagined it, but you're too busy imagining how hard he must be to have to readjust like that. what must be going through his mind... listening to the two of you fuck like you're trying to get over something. he's either torturing himself with want right now or drafting up a letter to the higher ups in his head. maybe both.

"he's either awake," satoru reaches down and lifts your leg a little to reach sweet new depths inside of you. "or having the nastiest wet dream of his life."

something churns in your stomach, apprehension if you were a better person, and you part your lips to tell satoru to stop being an ass, but what comes out instead is a breathy moan so desperate it makes both men stiffen.

and nanami exhales. loudly. not in the sleeping man sense, this is choked out and heavy with something you don't dare name.

"oh nanamin," satoru sing-songs. "if you're going to cum in your boxers, come here and do it with a better view."

“satoru—” you hiss, mortified, melting at the same time, “stop—”

divine intervention is the only explanation. you must have some serious karma point stacked up and pocketed for a rainy day because, just as your breath hitches again, kento nanami is sitting up and planting his feet on the floor, eyes set dead on the two of you.

his pyjama pants are tight. when you let your gaze fall from his messy hair to the complete and visible outline of his hard cock, you think your heart stops. this is unseemly, and unprofessional, and everything that could be considered inappropriate. and if kento decides to walk out and complain, you and satoru are fucked, special grade status be damned.

“…you’re both ridiculous,” he says flatly, voice sandpapered. "this is wrong. abhorrent. foul."

he sounds exhausted. morally affronted. except his dick is so hard it must hurt and his eyes haven't once left where satoru's cock disappears inside of you. his gaze is heavy on you like a second set of hands. it's ungodly. you feel blasphemous, like maybe if nanami just looks at you a little longer you'd cum from that alone.

satoru thrusts deeper into you, but speaks to nanami. "you're hard."

"and you're loud." nanami exhales slowly, like he's giving himself a full ten-count to resist the urge to murder or run or maybe both. then he stands, finally meets your eyes, and softens his gaze a little. "you want this?"

your body answers for you, hips rolling back and pushing yourself deeper on satoru's cock. your thigh trembles where gojo holds it up and your voice comes out breathless and wrecked. "yes."

satoru groans, of course, and makes a show of squeezing one of your boobs in his hand. nanami doesn’t even look at him. doesn’t need to. his attention is all on you now, laser-focused and reverent like you’re a fucking sacrament. he reaches for your jaw, guiding your face up until your lips part just from the force of his presence.

“good,” he murmurs. “because i’m going to fuck you, both of you, until i can think straight again—and if i have to hear your voice even once during it, satoru, i will be gagging you."

your heart-eyed boyfriend cums inside of you at the implication alone.

and that is how you end up on your hands and knees in a twin hotel room in the dead hours of the night. kento nanami fucks his cum back inside of you for the second time that night, fingers digging so tightly into the fat of your ass that you don't doubt satoru will be teasings the marks left behind for days to come.

you splay your fingers over your boyfriends thighs, which is the only touch he's been granted since cumming inside of you. you stare up at him, he's got lidded eyes and this desperate look on his face as he watches nanami fuck you from behind, each thrust pushing your face just that little bit closer to his painfully hard cock.

though he can't complain, not with nanami's tie rolled up and stuck between his teeth. he tries, though, guttural moans and half-discernible pleads for more can hardly be heard over the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

nanami is girthier than satoru, stretches you out in a way you haven't felt in forever. you feel a little guilty for the volume at which you moan and beg for more, but satoru doesn't seem to be taking it to heart.

you don't know why you never thought of satoru as a cuck. oddly, he's the type. still, that pretty look of desperation on his face is enough to have you squeezing around nanami's fat cock.

"tell gojo how you feel," nanami says lowly, and though you can't see him, you're sure he's eyeing your boyfriend something smug. "now. go."

"feel good," you try, but a sour taste lingers on your tongue at your lack of truth. no, you don't just feel good. "i feel dirty, but in a good way. feel like you're... fuck, seeing a part of me i couldn't show you otherwise. and i... i feel so fucking full."

there's no exaggerating just how full you feel. the curve of nanami's cock inside of you reaches points that gojo would otherwise miss. you think that, if you were to somehow manage both of them inside of you at the same time, that you'd never ever be able to cum without the pairing again.

at your words, gojo groans around nanami's rolled-up tie. he jolts his hips up, tries desperately for any sort of stimulation, and squeezes his eyes shut in desperation when it doesn't work.

nanami, however, only speeds up. his hips are brutal as they piston into you, and he reaches around to find your clit with the tips of his fingers. the electricity of your umpteenth orgasm of the night courses through you, and you're right on the edge when gojo breaks and fists his cock, stroking maniacally.

he grins around the tie, thinking he's gotten away with his bid for release, until nanami slows down his thrusts and stops circling your clit entirely.

"if you don't stop, she won't get to cum."

what the fuck? your eyes widen, and you're about to retort when gojo does it for you. spitting the now drool-covered tie from his mouth and whining like a bitch. "come ooonn, i need something."

"hands off, or i stop."

unfortunately for you, gojo weighs the merits of jerking off to the sight of you being denied like this, but he must decide your wrath is worth avoiding, because he groans and releases his aching cock. "fine."

The cigarette smoke that lingers in the air fills your lungs, and you turn your head in your haze to find your boyfriend has the waist band of his sweats lowered beneath his balls. His cock is out, but not free — the tight grip he has it in looks near painful. He strokes in time with Shiu’s thrusts into you, taking into account each time he slows to pull back and look at the mess of need you must be. 

“Don’t look at me,” he grumbles when he notices your eyes on him. “You wanted this. Look at him.”

You feel like you’ve been caught red-handed, drooling over the sight of him fisting his leaky cock, but Shiu kisses your cheek and leans down to whisper in your ear before you can break your gaze away. “Don’t listen to him. He’s imagining he’s me. Keep watching him, let him know he’s only half the reason you’re this wet right now.”

Your skin warms. Despite Toji’s order, you keep watching him. A gentle flush, one that is so unlike your Toji, paints his face pink. He’s got his lip caught between his teeth, holding a groan in his muscled chest as he watches you and Shiu. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you were being fucked silly, on your hands and knees like a whore — but no, Shiu is practically making love to you. 

Your lips part as you watch your boyfriend experience a surge of a million different feelings. Questions he isn’t sure he wants answered; do you prefer the stretch of Shiu’s cock to his? Do you like being worshipped like this? Will you say yes if he asks to make this a regular thing?

“I love you,” falls from your lips in a shaky moan. Though you say it softly, as if to meet only Shiu’s ears, your eyes are still on Toji. “Love how you feel inside of me.”

Toji’s eyes widen. His hand jerks faster, hips buck up a little from that self-made prison of an armchair. He doesn’t know if you’re talking to him or Shiu, and it’s about to send him over the edge. A part of him wants to leap up and pull Shiu off you; fill you with his own cock instead and flood your womb with his release. Another part of him wants to get behind Shiu and fuck into him; let him be the vessel between you that gets to know exactly how the two of you merge to ‘make love’. He’d fuck him deep and mean justs to get the message through to you.

But, the part of him that wants to keep his ass planted to the cuck chair and watch his girl take the load of his best friend wins out. 

“I’m gonna fucking—” he cracks, choking on his words as his hips stutter and cum shoots all over himself. His black shirt is soaked in the stuff, his fist covered, but he doesn’t stop.

Shiu pays him no mind. It’s hard when you feel this good, wrapped around his cock for the first, and likely only, time in his life. He’s dreamt of this, convincing Toji to share his score — he is his handler, after all. 

You want to come, but Shiu is taking his time bringing you to the peak. Usually Toji would just hike a hand around you and rub you ‘til you beg for mercy. Shiu, however, seems to like the way you squirm beneath him as he paws at your thighs, pushes them up against your body, and folds you into a mating press. 

The new depth he reaches inside of you is torturous. You feel so full, yet so unsated at the same time. You wonder how well you’d take them both; whether you’d stretch out to accommodate two cocks at once or if one would have to fill your mouth instead. You want to crawl over to Toji and lick his cock clean, taste something from him as you’re so full of another man. 

Another glance over at your boyfriend rewards you with the sight of his screwed-up face. His eyes are set on the spot Shiu fucks into you, and he strokes himself into overstimulation. Seems he won’t be left out for even a moment. 

“Fuck,” Shiu’s hips slam forward, skin slapping against skin in a heated rhythm. His chest heaves, and you can tell he’s about to cum — even with how overwhelmed your pussy is, you can feel him twitching inside. “I’m close.”

“Not inside,” Toji growls from his seat. That was his only rule going into this. That, and no butt stuff. Toji reserves your womb and ass for himself.

“I know, asshole,” Shiu grunts. His eyes roam your face once more with a soft (but elastic tight) smile on his face. “Want you to come first. On my cock; I’ll pull out after, okay?”

You can hardly nod. Once again, his fingers come down on your clit, wedged tightly between your moving bodies. He circles it, quick but gentle, and sends you absolutely dizzy with pleasure. You know Toji is still stroking himself as he watches you come undone; and you know he’s probably going to pull another orgasm or two out of you tonight to repair his ego. Your poor cunt.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, and with enough pressure to force a loud, crying moan from your chest. Your legs shake, eyes squeezing shut as your head spins. You haven’t felt this good in… ever. 

Not just because of Shiu; but knowing Toji is watching. 

Your climax sends Shiu careening over the edge. He’s quick to pull out, leaving you feeling absolutely lost in your emptiness. He gives his cock a squeeze, as if to stall his orgasm, and looks you over hungrily before… pulling away?

Instead of shooting over your stomach or across your pretty face, Shiu leaps off the bed and makes his way over to Toji, whose eyes are wide as his best friend approaches. He’s not given much time to react before Shiu is taking the back of his head in one hand and feeding the tip of his cock past his lips with the other. Toji chokes on his surprise, and then on the load that Shiu releases into his mouth with a loud groan. 

Instinctively, he spits. Rivulets of cum drip from his lips, down his chin, and join the mess of his own cum on his stomach and cock. His eyes are wide, a little angry, but his surprise doesn’t stop Shiu from pulling back and leaning down to catch your boyfriend's lips in a very messy kiss. Cum and spit is passed between them, paired with loud groans that travel right from them to your still-buzzing clit. 

You watch from the bed with wide eyes, having just discovered something very interesting about yourself. 

husband!Sukuna never lets you cook meals – insisting that his culinary skills far surpass yours (they do, to be honest). And the annoying part? He won’t let you do the dishes as a favor either, because he believes that he should be the one to clean his cooking space to his liking. He will, however, force you to sit on the island, facing him the entire time, because he swears listening to podcasts bores him. Your seductive voice, on the other hand, is 'more soothing than music' to keep him company. 

husband!Sukuna developed a sudden allergy to fur and pollen, which later became brutal because he loved snuggling your cat (something he’d deny when you noticed). His face would swell up, red and bloated, eyes dry as he'd breath harsh, which gave him away. It became so bad that you’d have to lock your cat in a different room from him every day. Then, he gave up and visited the doctor a million times to find a sustainable solution, only to find out he was allergic to gluten. That convinced him to return with 2 more adopted kittens that very evening of the fresh diagnosis, in celebration.

husband!Sukuna loves how you’ve gained a little weight and look more plump now. He doesn’t want you to give up on your gym habits for his personal benefit, but the way he lovingly caresses your plush belly, kneads and slaps your ass more often is enough proof that he enjoys it a bit too much. His “wife, your body is so fucking sexy” made you skip your weight-lifting and cardio sessions these past few months, only to quickly come back to your routine when you noticed how difficult your most recent hike had become — him having to lift you halfway to the top since you were so out of breath. 

husband!Sukuna swears he absolutely hates reality TV dating shows because that involves too much gossip, drama, and mindless fucking without soul-searching. That is proven wrong each time, as he stands aimlessly around the TV, arms crossed and a frown on his face as you watch the latest episodes, interrupting your focus to ask about who the insincere guy named ‘Sincere’ was lying about liking this time.

husband!Sukuna loves to creampie you, but absolutely doesn’t want kids – something both of you bonded on early in your relationship. He doesn’t want you to suffer through carrying the baby, nor does he want either of you to get cock-blocked by the murderous screams of a hungry child, yet. When he saw you going through hormonal issues from your birth control, he called the human body “pathetic” and proceeded to get a vasectomy without even telling you – a decision you ended up being very happy about, because you enjoyed being filled up with his cum, too. Just not his kids…

husband!Sukuna loves braiding your hair. You were hesitant, at first, but after a hand injury, you had no choice but to let him upkeep your hair. It began with him gently brushing your wavy hair, trying to avoid tangles — to not pull on your scalp. That soon turned into him propping up the iPad beside him to watch tutorials of French braids and doing an unexpectedly great job at it. He was always proud of his work — taking pictures of the braids to show you, accompanied by a huge grin on his face.

husband!Sukuna knows that one of the features you’re most attracted to is his charming voice. And he absolutely uses that to his unfair advantage. A few conflicts where you don’t reply to him and ignore him for hours soon become futile, because he starts whispering “please talk to me, wife” and “brat, I know you want me” in such a low, seductive register that you fail to hide the blush that casts your cheeks, or the goosebumps on your body. The very next moment, he’s making you cum just from praises and slow, rubbing circles around your clit. “Pleased with yourself for giving in, aren't you? That’s it, cum for me… cum to my filthy voice, I know you’ve been begging to, princess” 

a small snort escaped from the other side of the door, “yea ryo ive been shitting for two hours.” 

his crimson eyes fluttered into a roll before he twisted the knob again, “okay brat then why is the door locked, let me in.” 

needy bastard. “kuna you can wait for like two minutes, im almost done.” you added the final touches to your face before adjusting your dress again. kinda short. eh its fine. 

he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed “almost done what? I can smell your body wash, did you wanna go on a date ton-” 

the door swung open, revealing your finished look. hair done and neat, makeup on point, gold jewelry layered all over your body, and your new brown mini dress that hugged your body perfectly. 

sukuna paused, looked you up and down, eyes immediately turning hungry. 

“black shoes or brown shoes?” you cocked a brow at him. 

“fuck, you look gorgeous baby.” he answered completely ignoring your question, “where we goin’?” 

you puckered your lips and smiled back at him, “thank you. okay so black or brown?” 

“brown. and give me like fifteen minutes, I'll be ready.” he bee-lined straight to the bathroom before your manicured hand pressed against his chest, stopping him right in his tracks. 

“ryo you can’t come to girls night. I've told you this like a thousand times.” 

girls night? It was like someone shot him in the chest right then and there. not only were you looking absolutely beautiful on a night the both of you had off, you were going out with your friends. instead of sukuna. not to mention how much they hated sukuna. the burly mans shoulders tensed,

 “nonono, the hell you mean girls night? I thought WE were going out tonight.” it was almost pathetic how whiney his voice sounded. to anyone else it would've been a once in a blue moon sight, unfortunately for you it wasn’t. 

“ryo I told you last night that I was going out with them.” 

“did not.” 

“did too.” 

“did not.” 

“ryomen i literally told you before we went to bed and you said ‘okay ill drive you.” you pushed past him and slipped on your brown kitten heels, before admiring your full look in the mirror. 

“There's no way I said that, I was out cold before you even shut off the light.” he followed your trail like a sulking puppy`. a large six foot something sulking puppy.

“sukuna i promise you i’m not lying.” you paused with your purse and keys in hand.  

“fine. but if i get handsy in the car, you cannot blame me. you look so hot.” he grabbed the keys from your hands and opened the front door. 

you tsked, “mhm mhm no touching while my girls are in the car.” 

“what.” 

“we’re picking them up, remember?” 

“you’re shittin’ me.”

-

after thirty minutes of being interrogated, looped into gossip, and asked the ‘you’re a guy what do you think?’ question approximately fifteen times,  sukuna finally got to the restaurant. 

your girls murmured a bunch of rushed thank yous before quickly hopping out of the car and heading into the restaurant. sukunas hand still gripped the wheel, 

“thank you for dropping us off kuna.” you leaned over the center console and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing him to turn his head. 

“call me if anything.” he responded in a low mumble. 

“i know i know.” you smiled before turning to open your door. 

“wait.” you paused and turned to look back at your boyfriend who was already outside of the car, he made his way around to your side and opened your door. He held your hand in his large gruff one before pulling you into another kiss, he pulled away just an inch from your mouth, his breath still on yours,

“i’m fucking the shit out of you when you get home.” 

you felt the warmth pooling in your cheeks, you bit back a smile and mumbled back 

“promise?” 

sukunas hands gripped at your waist, before dropping to his sides, a slow huff escaped his nose, “pinky.” 

you snorted before walking off, feeling the sting of sukunas hand slapping your ass as you did so. 

-

sukuna knew as soon as you called three hours later, slurring every other word, that he would be eating his words that night.

 after dropping off your equally drunk friends, he carried you into bed, taking his time removing your make up because he knew you would yell at him if he didn’t, then taking off your heels and dress, changing you into one of his shirts.

“ryo.” 

“hm.” 

“my friendsss saidd they loveeyou.” 

“really?” shocking. considering they mean mugged him all night. didn’t even bother to say his name properly.

you nodded slowly under the sheets. 

“why’s that?” 

a hiccup escaped your lips, eyes fluttering shut “they said… youmake mee glow.” 

“they’re idiots.” 

you snorted, “loveeyouu.” 

“i love you too brat.” 

he couldn’t even be mad at you for blue balling him all night.

theres always tomorrow.

posting schedule rivals coryxkenshin atp

through the walls came the muffled sounds of conversation. you could hear toji grumbling under his breath about something, his low voice carrying through the halls before it abruptly gave way to a rough, booming laugh. whatever had annoyed him clearly hadn't lasted long. tsumiki's lighthearted voice followed almost immediately, and then came the soft, affectionate laughter of megumi's mom.

together, their voices blended into a comforting hum that made the whole place feel warm and full of life.

i mean, after being apart for so long, what parent wouldn't be happy to see their kids back home from college?

the only person missing? megumi fushiguro. and where was he? upstairs in his room.. with you. in his defense, though, he'd already spent the entire week catching up with his family. now, as far as he was concerned, it was time to spend some quality time with his girlfriend.

the air in his bedroom was thick with a tension that felt both fragile and heavy. downstairs, the muffled sounds of the fushiguro household, the clatter of plates and the low rumble of conversation continued, serving as a dangerous backdrop to the illicit act happening right now on his bed.

you were sprawled back against his cold pillows, your legs draped over his shoulders, exposing every inch of your cunt to him. because of megumi’s low sex drive, these moments were rare. he didn't crave sex with the urgency others did, and the gaps between your intimate encounters were often long enough that you almost forgot the sheer, devastating skill he possessed with his tongue.

though right now, you were remembering quite well.

"mmmh... what if tsumiki walks in?" you muttered, watching him through half lidded eyes before letting your head fall back against his pillows with a small sound escaping from your lips.

“she won’t.”

“your— hah! your dad?”

he opened his eyes just enough to meet your gaze, his slightly furrowed brows and narrowed eyes sending a silent warning your way; the silent equivalent of telling you to drop it. you got the message immediately and decided not to push your luck.

megumi was focused, his dark hair falling forward as he pressed his face against your folds for the third time that evening. he started slow, his tongue tracing a wet, deliberate line from the very bottom of your entrance, dragging upward through your slickness until he reached your clit. he didn't slurp or make loud, messy noises, instead, he used a firm, rhythmic pressure, sucking your swollen nub into his mouth with a precision that made your hips jerk involuntarily.

as he worked, his hands subconsciously began rubbing your thighs, his palms sliding up and down the soft skin of the back of your thighs in a slow, grounding motion.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips, echoing too loudly in the quiet room.

megumi slightly pulled away from your cunt with a small smooch, glancing up at you with those piercing eyes, his voice a low, warning velvet. "quiet down," he breathed, his breath hot against your skin, and pressed a small kiss to your folds. "they’ll hear you."

"i can't help it.." you whimpered, your fingers digging into the sheets. "megs, please— you know exactly what you're doing!"

"do i?" he murmured, pressing his mouth deeper into your pussy, letting out a low, vibrating hum that echoed through your entire pelvic floor. though, the sound was muffled by your flesh.

"forget how good you taste.. you're so sweet."

the admission only made your heart race more. you reached down, your fingers brushing through his dark spikes. "remember now?"

"hard to forget in the first place," he whispered, his voice vibrating against your clit. "you’re so wet for me, pretty..”

he leaned back in, but this time he was more methodical. he used his tongue to lap at your entrance, swirling in slow, heavy circles that made you feel like you were melting into the mattress. every time you tried to moan, megumi would increase the suction on your clit, effectively stealing the sound from your throat.

"oooh, fffuck— just like that! yeah—" you gasped.

his hands gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to his face. "yeah? tell me how it feels."

"it feels.. too much," you squeaked out, your voice a strained whisper. "it feels incredible though— don't stop, please don't stop!"

megumi pulled back slowly, and as he retreated, a thick string of saliva remained connected, stretching from his lower lip to your dripping cunt for a heartbeat before it finally snapped. the sight was visceral and raw, sending a jolt of pure heat straight to your core.

before you could recover, he gathered a pool of spit in his mouth and spat directly onto your pussy, the wet glob glistening against your pink flesh. he followed it immediately with one long, slow lick that swept from your hole all the way to the top, coating you in his warmth.

you let out a choked moan, your mind racing. god, that was so erotic, you thought, your heart hammering against your ribs.

he wasted no time in burying his face back into you, but this time it was more aggressive, almost as if he were making out with your cunt. using his lips to seal around you, his tongue swirled and flicked with a relentless pace that pushed you toward the edge. he knew exactly where to press, exactly how much suction to apply to make your vision blur and toes curl.

"you’re so tight," he mumbled against your skin, his voice thick. "maybe i needa fuck you more, mmm?"

"it’s ’cause you're— you're too good at it," you managed to choke out, your hips beginning to buck.

“am i, now?”

“mmmh!”

as the pressure built, the world outside the room ceased to exist. you were spiraling, the warmth of his tongue against your clit becoming an unbearable pleasure.

your hand quickly darted out, fingers tangling firmly in his dark hair, and you pushed him deeper into your cunt, forcing his face flush against you. subconsciously, you parted your thighs wider, opening yourself completely to him. and your toes curled tight, your back arching off the pillows as the orgasm finally crashed over you in violent, pulsing waves.

through the haze of your climax, you felt megumi stop moving his tongue, but he didn't pull away. he stayed right there, his face pressed into your soaking wetness, staring up at you. he watched your expression, watching the way your eyes rolled back and your chest heaved, witnessing every second of your release without breaking eye contact. to him, you looked unbelievably beautiful like this.

as the tremors began to subside and you looked back down at him, he didn't move. he just let out a soft, huffed breath and smiled faintly against your pussy, a rare, intimate expression of affection, before closing his eyes and savoring the scent and taste of you.

"feels good?" he murmured, his voice vibrating against your clit.

you couldn't even form a coherent thought. your brain was mush, your body humming with afterglow. all you could manage was a broken, breathless murmur. "megsss.. why’d you stop? keep on—”

the moment was shattered by three heavy, rhythmic knocks against the bedroom door.

"oi, megumi," toji’s gruff voice boomed from the hallway, sounding impatient. "stop brooding in your room and get downstairs for dinner. now. you and your little girlfriend, both."

megumi groaned at the sound of his father’s voice and stiffened, finally pulling away with a wet pop. he sat back on his heels, wiping a stray drop of your juices from his lip with the back of his hand, looking entirely unfazed while you lay there trembling and completely undone.

"coming," he called back, his voice returning to its usual raspiness, though the glint in his eyes told you he knew exactly how much he'd just ruined you.

“can you sit on my dick after dinner? please?”

cockwarming drabble dropping soon fellas 🥳🥳🥳 jk……unless….. also im thinking abt writing for kashimo. does anyone fw that???? him have a tongue piercing??? i keep thinking abt that nerd armin fanart 🤤🤤🤤

the movie had been playing for nearly half an hour, but the plot had long since faded into a blur of colors and distant sounds. the flickering light of the television cast long, dancing shadows across the living room, but the only thing you were focused on was the heavy, comforting weight of megumi pinned against you.

he was sprawled on top of you, his chest pressing firmly against yours, pinning you deep into the soft cushions of the couch. what had started as a few soft, tentative kisses had spiraled into something far more urgent.

megumi wasn't usually the one to initiate with aggression; he was quiet, measured, and calm. but there was a hidden intensity to him, a desire that only came out when it was just the two of you. his hands, usually so steady, were trembling slightly as they slid beneath the hem of the oversized hoodie you were wearing. his hoodie. he had pushed the fabric up slowly, inch by inch, until it bunched right under your breasts, leaving your torso bare to the cool air of the room.

you let out a shaky breath, your skin prickling with anticipation. "gumi.." you whimpered, the sound barely more than a whisper.

he didn't answer with words. instead, he shifted his weight, his hips aligning perfectly with yours. he was still in his sweatpants, and as he pressed down, he began to slowly, deliberately grind his dick against your cunt. the friction of the thick grey fabric against the thin, delicate lace of your panties was just perfect, sending jolts of heat straight to your core and his.

"fuuuck..." he breathed, a quiet curse slipping through gritted teeth. his brows furrowed as his eyes flickered downward, lingering only a moment before returning to yours.

you gasped, slightly arching your back to meet him, your legs instinctively wrapping tight around his waist to pull him closer, wanting to erase every millimeter of space between you.

"you're so warm," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that seemed to echo in your chest. he shifted again, a slow, circular roll of his hips that made you moan a bit louder, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back, pulling him down.

"don’t stop— i’ve been thinking about this all day," you whispered, tilting your head back to give him better access to your throat. "please, megumi."

he let out a shaky breath, his composure finally beginning to crack.

one of his hands slid down from your ribs, tracing the curve of your hip with a possessive grip before slipping lower. he cupped the swell of your ass, squeezing firmly, pulling your pelvis flush against his hardness. meanwhile, his other hand wandered upward, his thumb grazing the underside of your breast, teasing the nipple until it peaked, sending a shiver through your entire frame.

"missed you all day," he confessed, his voice dropping to a needy, private whisper. megumi pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes clouded with a mixture of need and deep affection.

"i couldn't stop thinking about you. about how you'd look in my clothes.. about how you'd feel under me."

he leaned down, peppering a trail of hot, wet kisses along your jawline and down the sensitive column of your neck.

"you’re always so sweet to me," you breathed with a small giggle, cheeks warming ever so slightly.

megumi groaned, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“good.”

he shifted again, his grind becoming more insistent, more demanding. and while he was still maintaining that calm, steady rhythm, the pressure he was applying to your clit through the lace was becoming unbearable in the best way possible.

"is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely audible, though his hips didn't stop their slow, torturous movement

"it's perfect. don't stop," you pleaded, your hands slowly leaving his back and threading through his messy, spiky hair, tugging slightly to bring his lips back to yours.

when he finally kissed you again, it wasn't the soft kiss from before; it was deep and full of pure affection. his tongue quickly swept into your mouth, continuing to rub himself against you. simultaneously, he slid one of his hands upward from your waist. he didn't grip hard, but he settled his palm firmly against the front of your throat.

it wasn't a choke, nor was it meant to hurt; it was a grounding weight, a steady pressure that kept your head pinned back against the cushion. it was a silent, calm statement, a reminder that despite the chaos of the pleasure swirling around you, he was the one guiding this.

you let out a muffled moan into his mouth, your throat vibrating under his palm.

eventually, megumi broke the kiss, his breathing heavy and ragged. the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your neck traveled down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your lace panties.

“can i?”

“mmh..”

the corners of his lips lifted into a faint smile against you, lingering for only a second before fading into a soft, acknowledging hum. he didn't pull your panties off immediately; instead, he slid two long fingers underneath the lace, finding your soaking wet folds.

“you’re already so wet and all i did was kiss you, pretty.”

you let out a loud, sharp moan, your hips jerking upward. "d— don’t tease me."

"patience," he muttered, though he sounded like he was struggling with his own advice. he began to circle your clit with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure while his other hand moved down to grip your thigh, holding you steady.

“oooh god— don’t stop! ‘m so close, megs!”

"so sensitive," he let out a quiet snicker, the corners of his lips tugging upward. he silently reminded himself that he needed to start spending more physical time with you.

megumi continued to watch your face, then leaned down to kiss away the tears of pleasure pricking your eyes, a small huff slipping from his lips afterwards at the feeling of your hand rubbing his dick through his sweatpants.

“yeah? right there? tell me i’m doing good.”

“such a good boy for me! hah— god— i— i’m cumming—”

"there we go," he breathed against your lips, his hand slipping out from your panties within seconds as he finally reached for the drawstring of his sweatpants, determined to finally feel skin on skin.

SLAM!

the front door burst open with a loud crash, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of two very familiar voices bickering at full volume.

"bro. i'm telling you, kugisaki! the spicy chips are objectively better than the honey butter ones!" yuji's voice carried through the house, full of unwavering confidence despite how ridiculous the argument was.

"shut up, idiot! the honey butter ones are a delicacy!" nobara retorted, her voice carrying through the house as she shoved past yuji, who was balancing an impressive number of snack bags in his arms.

“said no one ever in this entire fucking world.”

“itadori, you test my patience ev—”

they then stopped dead in their tracks, the argument dying instantly as their attention shifted towards you two.

the scene was incriminating: megumi half hovering over you, your hoodie pushed up to your chest, your legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, and both of you flushed and panting.

silence stretched for three agonizing seconds.

yuji’s eyes widened so much it was almost comical, his jaw dropping as he stared between the two of you. his gaze flickered to megumi, then to you, then back to megumi again, like his brain was desperately trying to process what he was seeing.

"FUSHIGURO?!" the pink-haired guy shrieked, his voice hitting a pitch only dogs could hear. "OHHOHO! MY MAN! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE LIKE THAT.”

nobara blinked, her expression caught somewhere between unimpressed and genuinely surprised. without saying a word, she reached over and snatched a bag of chips from the arm of yuji’s overloaded stash. she let out a dramatic sigh, followed by an exaggerated gag, as if she had just witnessed something truly unbearable.

"seriously. in the living room? have some shame, fushiguro. some of us wanted to actually watch the movie, not a live demonstration of your repressed horniness."

megumi narrowed his eyes a little, his face turning a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato. he slowly let go of your hoodie and collapsed forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a long, muffled groan of pure, unadulterated embarrassment.

"jus’ get out," he managed to choke out, his voice muffled by your skin.

"WAIT. hold on!" yuji burst out, suddenly far more invested than anyone expected. his eyes practically sparkled with curiosity as he leaned into the situation.

"do we need to leave? should we go get dinner? do you guys need a room? ‘cause i can help you find a room!"

"ouuut," megumi groaned, dragging the word out in pure annoyance. he finally looked over at them, his expression cold enough to make the room go quiet (though he was very much embarrassed). after reluctantly moving away from you, he raised his hands into a familiar stance, making it very clear he was considering using one of his shikigami.

“bruh.”

as nobara hauled a laughing yuji away, she looked back over her shoulder, calling out one final remark before the two of them vanished down the hallway, "clean up your act, megumi! and put some clothes on her!"

the room fell quiet once again, the only sound being the faint roll of the movie credits playing in the background. megumi remained still for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly caught his breath, neither of you rushing to break the silence.

"i’m never gonna hear the end of it," he whispered.

you laughed softly, your hand moving up to smooth through his hair. "at least now they know there's more to you than the grumpy version they see in public."

megumi groaned again, leaning down to kiss you deeply, though the mood had shifted from primal to something more playful.

"shut up. just.. shut up and kiss me."

i really needa write for yuji