#killingmoon curses

"Fuck!" Toji's yell woke you with a start. You sat up, expecting to meet his enraged green gaze as you turned to his side of the bed. "Stop. Fuck. That hurts." His words were short - bitten bullets as he tried to curl in on himself, his palm held up against the right side of his face. Over his scar. You peered at him. His eyes were squeezed shut, his nose and mouth crumpled in pain. He was dreaming. "Hey? Fushiguro?" you whisper-shouted, "Toji?" "Hey! Old man!" you called out now, concerned as his body began to thrash. Softly, barely even touching, you brushed your hand across his shoulder, "Toji?"

You gasped. The air heaved out your lungs as his forearm came down across your chest and his other hand gripped your throat. His knees pinned your legs together. You were completely immobile. And choking. Shit. This was the one hold of his you couldn't break, even though your arms were free. He was just too damn strong. You looked up desperately into his face. His eyes were barely open, and the thin slivers of green that you caught in the moonlight were glazed over. The Toji you knew wasn't the one trying to kill you. You reached up and stroked the left side of his face with the backs of your fingers. "Toji," you tried not to sound out of breath, but it was difficult with half the man's bodyweight on your lungs. "Hey, old man - could you stop trying to kill me? You won't get much money for me, promise. Come on, wake up, Toji." His eyes opened more, his pupils dilating in the dark, his irises now longer hazy. "You?" his voice sounded more choked than yours. All rasp, and hoarse and tired. The fingers around your throat eased up, and you pulled in as much air as you could. "Yeah, me. Sorry if you were expecting someone else." Toji sat back onto his knees, rubbing his hand over his face and through his hair. "What happened?" "I made the mistake of trying to wake a sleeping bear," you rubbed at your throat. There would definitely be a bruise. Well, with all the other bites and marks Toji had left on you, you'd be walking around dressed like it was the middle of fucking winter anyway. "Come on," you tapped his thigh, "Let me up." Toji wordlessly pulled himself off your legs and you slipped off the bed. You pattered through to his threadbare kitchen.

"You got any tea or something to help you sleep better?" You called, looking back at Toji in the bedroom. He was staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees, picking at non-existent threads stuck to his sweatpants. "I got booze," was the mumbled offer. You gave a light laugh. Of course. You opened his fridge and pulled out another bottle of water and a tray of ice. You grabbed the whisky glasses from a cupboard and then cursed. Why did he have to keep his liquor on the highest fucking shelf? You huffed, and folded your arms beneath your bare breasts. "Why aren't you wearing anything?" Toji's warm hand clamped down on your shoulder, his chest pressing into your back as he retrieve the bottle of whisky you were looking at. "Cos I don't have anything to wear, genius. Or did you forget that you broke the zip of my dress?" Toji was polite enough to look a little guilty, you waved your hand dismissively, "Not like I'd be able to sleep in that fucking thing, it was bloody uncomfortable." You leaned your back against the counter. Thankfully, the cheap linoleum wasn't freezing on your skin. Toji poured you each two fingers of liquor, and cracked a couple of ice cubes into the glass. He mumbled. "Huh?" "I said, why didn't you ask? Or do you normally sleep naked?" He handed you your glass, clinking it briefly against his before taking a long sip. His eyes never left you, and you were relieved to see that teasing glint back in his gaze. "We've slept together before, Fushiguro. You know the answer." You looked into your whisky. Toji clicked his tongue. "That was on a job, doll. We slept in our gear in a fucking alley, this ain't the same situation." He turned and trailed back to the bedroom. He wasn't wrong. You sighed. You might as well be honest, especially if he was going to carry on throwing that pet name around, "I didn't know how to ask." You took a drink. Toji raised an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. He opened the top drawer of his cupboard and pulled out two pieces of clothing. He chucked them on your side of the bed. "I had my dick inside you, like, two hours ago, and you're afraid to ask for something to sleep in?" You nodded. You picked up the water bottle and went back inside the bedroom. Toji was sitting with his back against the wall, one leg on the bed. You put the bottle beside him and began to dress yourself in one of his old training shirts and a pair of boxers. "Drink, your body's still coming down." Toji looked at you sideways, "Don't need it. My body's used to it by now." You frowned. How this man had managed to survive this long without a mental breakdown was a miracle. "Whatever." You mirrored his position against the head of the bed, but folded your legs under you as you sat.

Toji rummaged around the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With a click and small whoosh, the sickly sweet smell of cherry menthol filled the room. "Since when do you smoke fruity shit?" Toji let out a long stream of sugary clouds from his mouth, "Since my partner won't stop fucking complaining about how I stink up her car," He gave you a lazy grin then, the cigarette hanging between the edges of his scar. Your chest tightened. You gave a dry chuckle and then looked at him. He still kept the same expression. "Wait, really?" he nodded and you fake-gasped, "The Fushiguro Toji did something out of consideration for another person? With no benefit to himself?" "Hey now, don't say that I'm not considerate after how good I fucked you, hmm, doll?" Toji reached over and rapped his knuckles lightly under your chin. You gulped, and he chuckled.

Like always, you fell into a careless silence. You had expected it to change, really. To become awkward on your part, cold on his. You'd both crossed a big line in the world you operated as partners. It was one thing to kill together for a pay check, maybe share a drink and then go your separate ways, it was an entirely different thing to start fucking each other after a mission gone sour.

Were you just going to pretend it didn't happen? To be fair, that would be normal for Toji. But his normal fucks weren't the woman he worked with every day. They weren't the girl who would get hurt for him, and him for her. They didn't share a death pact tattooed over their hearts (yeah it was made whilst drunk, but a pact was a pact, and Fushiguro Toji had promised himself to never make a pact he couldn't keep after selling his own son). Toji sighed, and you looked over to him. You placed your whisky to one side and shuffled over until you knelt beside him. You held your palms open in your lap, expectant. "What?" "Your hand" He transferred his cigarette and placed his hand over your palms. You flipped it, palm up, and began firmly and rhythmically pressing your thumbs into the flesh of his hand at the base of his fingers. "What the fuck are you up to?" Toji tapped the ash into one of the many empty glasses at his bedside. "Giving you a massage," Toji made a questioning noise in his throat, "I wasn't going to start on your shoulders, I don't want you to try remove my head from my body again," you hummed, working your dexterous fingers down each of Toji's calloused digits. Toji winced, remembering how eerily calm you'd looked with his hand so tight around your neck. Almost as if you didn't care if you died because he'd mistaken you for someone else. "Why?" You shrugged, "I don't know. It's something my mom did for my dad after an exorcism went wrong. It's difficult for someone to soothe somebody mentally, but it's easy to get their body to relax. If you get somebody's muscles loose and their heartrate down, you've probably helped a lot with getting their mind calmer too." Your eyes never left Toji's hand, and he took the chance to study your silhouette in the moonlight. You didn't talk much about your close family, your parents. You and Toji had spent most of the 'personal history' conversation cussing out the clans. "Your old man know that you're a hired killer?" You shook your head, pausing in your ministrations on Toji's thumb. "My dad's dead. Got killed when I was fourteen." "Oh, um." "My mother doesn't know, of course. That I'm an assassin. No one knows. So don't worry, the jujutsu world still thinks you're dead," you gave him such a soft smile then. He nearly coughed on his smoke. You moved along to his wrist and forearm, your fingers kneading harder into the thick, corded muscles.

That silence again, only broken by Toji's deep exhales and periodic sips at his drink. "Can I try?" "Try what?" You gestured at the cigarette. There was about half left until the filter. Toji's eyebrows rose. "You know how to smoke, pretty thing?" You rolled your eyes. "Unfortunately. I became quite the pro at self-destruction after my father passed. I didn't try everything, but I did get close." Toji found himself looking at you anew. He tried to imagine a fourteen-year-old you. Drinking. Smoking. Young and angry. He knew what that was like. Hell, sometimes he still felt that angry even now. "Ah, but when last did you smoke?" he found himself staring at your lips, at the slightly tightened corners of your mouth as you focused on the way your hands moved up his arms to his biceps. You paused, thinking. "Can't remember," you'd slung your legs out from under you, your knees and calves pressed against Toji's legs as you twisted body to face him in your effort to get better access to his upper arm. You were so close. "Then you'll probably just end up hurting yourself." "That's true, but I still want to try the taste," you puffed air out your lips with a hum, and Toji got an idea. "There is a way." You looked up at him, only now aware of your body against his, of how close his face was to yours. He smirked, that crooked smile that had made your core tighten the very first time you saw it, that smirk that had led you to nearly sitting on his lap in his bed. "Come here," Toji took a deep drag of the cigarette, and with the hand you'd so diligently held onto before, pulled your face to his. Your nose bumped against his, and your mouth opened slightly. Toji took that moment to blow his smoke into your parted mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours as you paused then leaned back to exhale. "That's disgusting," you scrunched up your nose. "Of course it fucking is," Toji inhaled another drag, and pulled you back in. You shared several clouds of the cough syrup smoke, shakily exhaling and inhaling as you passed your breath to one another, each time letting your mouths linger longer, your one hand gripping Toji's shoulder, the other flat against his chest for balance. You slowly let out your last breath of smoke, more buzzed on Toji's teasing lips than the nicotine. You waited for him to bring the cigarette to his mouth once more, but he ground it into the side of his ashtray-drinking-glass.

You both just looked at each other for a moment. Toji's lids had grown even heavier, pupils blown wide as he ran his tongue along his lips, curling up to flick at his scar. And then his mouth was against yours, saturating you with the taste of whisky and cherry, kissing you slowly and deeply. The hand that was at your neck slipped up into your hair, gripping at the strands as his other arm curled itself around your waist to push you even closer. He licked into you, capturing your tongue with his, overlapping your lips, sucking, flicking, biting. His fingers dug into your back as his other hand tugged your hair. You moaned, savouring the way he moved with you, how he permeated into you, how with just a kiss he'd caused the rest of the world to dissolve away into nothing but the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, the strands of his hair between your fingers.

He barely let you up for air as he moved you onto your back, his hand pushing your hip down as his body twisted over yours. His forearm landed to the side of your head, the impact dropping you from your elbows to your back. He pushed your legs apart with the thick muscle of his thighs, and a calloused thumb rubbed circles into the skin just above your waistband. You were caged by him, again, surrounded by the scent and presence of him, the tickling of his hair on your forehead, his breath on your lips. You slung your arm under his shoulder to grip at the shifting muscles of his back, fingers trailing the scratches you'd left there just a few hours before.

Toji pulled at your bottom lip to release it back with a soft pop and smirked. His eyes were barely open at this point, and you had the fleeting fear that he'd fall asleep right then and there, squashing you beneath his solid mass of muscle, but that thought was soon swept aside as Toji lowered his hips to move himself against the apex of your thighs. The reaction he caused was instant. The hot push of his hardening cock against your clothed clit was all it took to rewind that knot he'd undone so many times earlier. The sharp friction bubbled through your lower belly and you could only let out a clenched moan. Your eyes fluttered open and close, falling easily into Toji's grinning gaze. He kept rocking into you, clearly amused at how little it took to cause your tummy muscles to clench and your skin to glow. Each drag was slow, and with every increase and release of pressure against you, little noises dribbled from your throat. "So this is the kinda face you make, hmm? Funny, I thought you only had two expressions, babygirl~" Toji leaned down to rumble into your ear, licking at the shell and tugging at your lobe. "Says you, Cheshire Cat," Toji's hand came down quickly against your thigh, before his warm palm rubbed and kneaded at the skin, "Watch your mouth, doll, or put it to work," His thumb rested lightly on your parted lips, and you eagerly dropped your lower jaw to wrap your tongue around it and suck, hard. That earned you a small grunt from Toji, as he started covering your neck in hickeys, hand holding your head to one side. The rough skin of his scar tickled as his lips explored your flesh, mapping his path with darkening marks , defining where he'd suckled and nipped at your neck and the skin left exposed by the collar of your shirt. His shirt. You opened your mouth further, expecting to gag on half of Toji's fingers to start preparing you for him. Instead, his hand moved to hold the back of your neck.

Toji pulled you up onto his knees, the arm that had borne his weight supported your lower back, his fingers digging into the plump of your ass. He grabbed your hips and lifted you onto his clothed cock, groaning as you squeezed your thighs around his pelvis and began grinding yourself against him. From there his hands travelled up, one attaching itself firmly at the arch of your back, pushing you to him as the other slithered past the hem of his shirt. You clutched onto his wide shoulders, gifting the myriad of scars along his throat and chest with featherlight kisses and kitten licks. Occasionally you left a small, purple, love bite - just so that if this would be the one and only time you and Toji would be like this, this close, this vulnerable, this raw, he would remember you after you'd left his apartment in the morning. Between Toji's guiding hands and your rocking hips, your boxers and Toji's sweatpants were now wet with you, the scent of you filling the room, the sound of you joining in as Toji's dexterous fingertips pinched and twisted at a nipple. He alternated between groping at your breasts with blunted nails and torturing your nipples with precise flicks and squeezes. Your head fell back at a particularly well-aimed thrust, your moan catching and your lidded eyes locking onto Toji, who watched you with parted lips, his signature smirk gone, replaced with lust, and something unidentifiable. He placed a softer kiss onto your mouth, teeth only grazing your lip as he began to lay kisses across your face. One under each eye, your forehead, temples, along your jawbone and up your cheeks. They were still loose and without gentleness, but you still widened your eyes to look up at Toji. At that moment, as the light of the moon caught on the planes of your faces, of Toji's muscles, of your soft, exposed flesh. At the moment, you two were divine. Not heroes. Not angels. Not villains. Not demons. Just two people, without attachment to anybody else, only to each other. Grasping at each other in the early hours of the morning, as even the city held its breath in rest, whilst you used each other to breathe.

Toji pulled you as easily from his lap as he'd placed you on it, throwing you onto your back as he moved his focus your clothes. He pushed his shirt up your body, a hand on your shoulder preventing you from sitting up to remove it. The shirt stayed on. His shirt stayed on. His mark. His for the night. He lathed his longue between your breasts with a hot, wet lick, blowing cold air onto your damp skin to watch as goosebumps rose to the surface across your entire chest. "Such a sensitive little one, hm? You like when I play with your tits?" this was growled as his lips closed over your nipple, his eyes on you as you nodded. He hummed, rolling your nipple along his teeth as he rubbed his calloused thumb over the peak of your other nipple. Your legs propped on either of his spread thighs, your hips bucked involuntarily as your core began to burn with neglect. The index finger of Toji's other hand tapped your lips and you took it in, suckling at it and moaning as he nipped harder at your tit.

He broke away from you for a painful pause, tugging his boxers down your hips and off one leg, and re-joined you with a deep kiss to the mouth. His wet finger slowly circled your clit, and Toji seemed to drink your moans into his kiss, the tip of his finger coasting over your centre of nerves, brushing and teasing with each hitch in your throat. Lightly, he ran his finger around your entrance before slipping the first two knuckles into your velvet heat. Your thighs tried to close and he let out a low groan. "Fuck, you're wet. And tight. Didn't I just fuck you loose, hah? You're telling me I gotta make you cum on these fingers all over again, hmm, sweetheart" He pushed his finger in deeper, already knowing where to press, how to crook his finger at just the right angle that had your stomach clenching. You had nodded briefly, panting as he leaned back and held himself through his sweatpants. You watched his thumb run slow circles over the head of his cock, precum seeping through the dark cloth covering him. He paused in his slow fucking of his finger into your cunt, "You not gonna answer me? You gonna cum all over my fingers again like a good girl?" You nodded, and felt a slight sting across your tit. "Words, babygirl~ My name would help too," Toji carried on pleasuring himself, teasing himself as he watches your cheeks darken, "Please, Toji," "Please, what, doll?" "Please fuck me with your fingers, Toji," you weren't a brat, wasn't in your blood, but you hadn't fully given in to Toji. You weren't going to beg. Not yet. "Aren't we polite?" Toji narrowed his eyes at you, but returned to your pussy, running his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick before re-inserting one finger, thumb rubbing lightly against your clit. "Spread your legs more, hold 'em open for me." You hooked your forearms below your knees, presenting yourself, tucking your head to one side. Your cheeks were hot. This time was slower. He was actually looking at you now, not blindly grabbing and clutching and fucking in the dark.

He leaned forward, thighs spreading your legs wider, his fingers still working slowly as he grabbed your face. Your chin was clamped firmly between his fingers, "Don't tell me you're shy, doll. What? A mean, strong sorcerer like you becomes a shy little thing the minute someone plays with her pussy? I wonder what those fuckers at work would think, to know you become nothing more than a pillow princess in bed," Toji rumbled into your face, thumb pressing harder into your clit as you garbled out little whines. Then Toji slid another finger into you, watching you as your back arched and eyes squeezed shut at the slightly increase of pressure. He began to speed up his fingers, each time making contact with your g-spot, his thumb now just swiping roughly in rhythm with his fingers across your clit. "I wonder how sweet you become, hmm? If you'll cry for my cock like the good little whore you are," that stoked at the low heat in your belly, and Toji felt it on his fingers. He said nothing, only smirked, before shifting down the bed and removing his hand from you. You really moaned then, suddenly empty, suddenly scared that Toji thought that what he'd done was enough before fucking you properly. You started to lower your legs, rock onto your elbows, but you were pushed back down and dragged by the backs of your knees to the edge of the bed, ass suspended as Toji threw your thighs over each shoulder. Was he? Was he really going to?

Hot, and wet, and soft. His mouth closed over your clit, running his tongue over it and sucking gently, his eyes widening at how sensitive you were. You gasped, and his name trickled from your lips, back arched and thighs clenching against him. As a rule, Toji didn't give oral, but something about the way you felt around his fingers, how soft and wet you were, had him craving your cum on his tongue. He licked at your entrance, alert to the little noises and muffled whimpers you made above him. He pushed into you and you could have howled. Instead you reached your hand down to twist the tips of your fingers into Toji's hair. Green eyes met yours, glancing at your hand as it brushed gently through his hair. He was still in control. He returned to your clit, suckling and running his tongue around it. He pressed his fingers back into you, rubbing up into you and stretching your tightness out. He hummed into you, swinging his other arm over your pelvis to hold you in place as he began to work at you, building you up to your peak.

Fuck, he was good. That simmer in you was rare to flare into a full orgasm, medication kept all sensations numb, including the full burn of pleasure unless your lover was persistent and patient enough. Toji was not meant to be either of those. But here he was, his thick fingers steady and even as he curled his fingers into you, filling you, yet stretching you out with every thrust. Then his teeth grazed against your clit, and your cry could not be suppressed. Your cunt clenched onto him and electricity sizzled through your stomach. He sucked hard then, alternating between gentle and harsh as his fingers built up speed. And you climbed. And climbed. And climbed. Your legs twitched and jumped, your breaths short and jagged as you struggled with the overwhelming burn flickering up your body. "Cum now, babygirl. Cum on my tongue, let me taste you," you felt rather than heard him, his final press into your cunt the gasoline that set you ablaze. You came with a curse, calling out profanities and Toji's name as you tried to control your thrashing. Toji kept at it, licking and lapping at your throbbing cunt, drawing your high out until your words fell to mumbles and the pleasure at your clit almost became too much. You tugged onto his hair softly, propping yourself up to meet his mouth in a sloppy kiss of teeth and tongue. Toji licked at the glistening around his lips and chin before plunging his tongue into your mouth. "Do you taste yourself, sweet thing?" Toji breathed against your lips, and you nodded mutely. You were sharp, tart, drunk on the taste of yourself in Toji's mouth, the tang against the whisky and cherry smoke, and the underlying, yet overpowering taste of what could only be described as Toji.

"Now should I wreck this sloppy pussy on my cock, doll? You wanna be a good girl and take me?" Toji was at the edge of the bed now, fingers at the waistband of his pants, but his eyes steady on yours, questioning. Consent. He was asking if you wanted to go further. Right. Earlier, it had been a cacophony of your desperation for each other, for the comfort each other's body could provide. The consent had been clear, even if the motivation blurry. But now, both of you were present. You weren't running away from the world. You weren't trying to hide away from your emotions in sex. Toji was about to pull his hands away before you grabbed his wrist. "Please, Toji. I want you," this was true. Terrifyingly true. You had always felt safe with him, even when you'd needed to be so emotionally vulnerable it was dangerous. You'd never felt safer than when he'd fucked you before. It was bizarre. He was your partner, nothing more. But you didn't care. Not tonight. The line had already been crossed. You might as well take it even further. Toji looked at you for a while, examining your face, his own expressionless. You placed your hand over his and squeezed, his question sent back to him. He smirked.

Shit. Last time had been a rush, a fumble in the dark. A fucking good fumble. But now you were facing him, and the heavy cock against his tight Adonis belt. And that crooked grin that only grew the longer you stared. Your reached out, circling him with your fingers, running your palm up the length. You flicked the pad of thumb over the head, gathering precum and twisting to wrist to pump him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and placing his knee up onto the bed. "Later, right now I need you on your back. Hands up, wrists crossed, and legs wide, got it?" It was almost pathetic how you scrambled, how you so quietly obeyed, your eyes so large and glossy as Toji walked climbed on the bed, moving until his knees were just under the plump flesh of your spread legs. Briefly, he leaned across the bed to his nightstand, nearly knocking over a few glasses as he pulled out a bottle of lube from fuck knows where. Wide palms encircled your hips, fingers splayed over the small of your back as Toji pulled you up his thighs. He carefully tucked a pillow beneath your ass and warmed up a generous amount lube before coating his cock with a few pumps. You'd already begun dripping onto the pillow beneath you, soaked and stimulated to the point where you were slowly losing grip on the control you so carefully held onto. Toji ran his tip through your folds, and you gasped as he bumped against your clit before teasingly rubbing his head against your entrance.

Then his chest was over yours, and the hand not bearing his weight grabbed at your sweetly crossed wrists above your head. He stretched out your arms, pinning your wrists in a particular place. "Aren't you such a cute little thing. You listen so well. You know what happens to good girls like you?" Toji rasped into your ear, his chest vibrating against yours as he held his face close to yours. You shook your head. "Words, babygirl, else you won't get your reward," he licked along your jaw and then covered it in soft slow kisses. This wasn't the Toji you'd expected. This wasn't the Toji who had fucked you stupid just hours before. You pulled your head back to look into his eyes. Although his pupils were blown wide, he was unreadable. The only thing that gave any emotion away was the slight pink undertone to his cheeks, and the almost soft curl of his sneer. "No, I don't know what happens, please tell me," You were so quiet, but still so yourself, even below an absolute monster of a man whose cock could easily bring more pain than pleasure. Toji kissed you, biting gently on your lower lip, "Good girls get spoiled," and with that he slowly, achingly began to press himself into you. The stretch immediately pulled a yelp from you, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Ssh, you can do it, take me like I know you can, ssh," Toji kissed at the salt on your temples, the hand pinning your wrists travelling down your body with soft touches. He moved in deeper, hissing, and rolling your nipple through his fingers. "Fuck," You looked up, startled to see Toji's face scrunched into a frown as he entered you breath by breath. You bit and sucked along his collarbones, kissing along his scars as you kept your mind from the tight stretching of your pussy. "God,” you murmured as Toji pressed his thumb to your clit, his hip flat against the meat of your thigh as he held himself over you on one forearm. He began to rub circles into your clit, eyes still shut as he sunk into you inch by hot inch.

And then you were full. He caged you in between his arms, his forehead resting against your temple, and his pants warm on your neck. Once more, you were saturated in all that was Fushiguro Toji, from the taste of his sweat on your tongue, to the twitch of his cock so deep in your stuffed cunt. "There you go," he brushed his lips against your cheekbone, his hand shifting up to curl around the back of your head. "You take me so well, babydoll," his lips moving against yours, his hips completely still, despite the insistent jolting of his stationary cock. He licked into your mouth, holding you into a deep, messy kiss as your tight muscles began to relax around him. The sharp sting in your lower abdomen faded, replaced by the tingling of the feeling of Toji so deep inside you. You broke from the kiss, panting and suddenly needy. "Toji, please fuck me."

He groaned, nipping on your lips before tucking his head into the crook of your neck. And he began to move. With the speed of a glacier, he rolled his hips from yours, making his absence from your empty cunt almost painful. Leaving just his tip in, he rocked back into your wet heat as slowly as he'd left it. It was overwhelming, this slow teasing fuck of his, the building of sweat between your chests, the slick that dripped from your pussy, the long and low moans he was dragging out of your gasping lips, swallowing them whole with each prolonged thrust, his spit and yours spread over your chin and cheeks as he kept his mouth lingering on your skin whilst he rolled his body across you. "Fuck, To-ji-" you half-gasped, half-cried, That coaxed a grunt from him, and he pushed into you with enough force to jostle you up the bed. His eyes snapped open, but the high-pitched mewl that you released caused a slow smile to creep across his face. Keeping the pace, he began to put his strength into his thrusts, and he was met with the sight of your eyes rolled back, and mouth open with curses and his name.

He tucked his arm below your back, lifting it into an arch against his shifting abs, holding you to him as he began to fuck his cock into you hard, pulling out from you slow. "Hold on, babygirl, but don't undo those hands," He growled, and you slung your arms around his neck, pressing yourself tight to him, your cheeks pressed together. With a low groan, Toji shifted back onto his haunches, hands slinging your thighs around his narrow waist and grabbing your ass to lower you even deeper onto his cock. "Shit, Toji," You breathed, dropping your forehead to his shoulder with a long exhale. You could feel every burning inch of him, filling you, claiming you. His heartbeat thundered through your chest, and you could feel his every ragged breath. "You feel so fucking good right now. Like this little pussy was made for me, and me only. What do you say, sweetheart?"

Your control faltered. It was the thought of being Toji's. Of only being Toji's. Of being the only person he touched with those hot, rough hands. Of allowing yourself to fully surrender yourself to him, and him alone. "Fuck -" Toji's hands caught you in a bruising grip, lifting your hips up from his cock, only to drop you down onto him as he pistonned up into your soaking cunt. You yelled out his name then, spurring him on as he fucked you on his lap, driving you onto his cock with a splutter of curses and groans. You could feel yourself tightening with each thrust, that growing burn in your stomach building to your limit. "Toji - I need to - going to -" the words gasped from your hot mouth, and Toji shifted you tighter against his chest, "You wanna cum, doll? Wanna cum on my cock?" he began fucking you with short, sharp thrusts, bouncing you in his lap. Your body was drawn taught, your fingers wound deep into the hair at the back of Toji's neck, gasping and panting, "Please, please, please," Toji gripped your hips with one hand, the other sliding between you. His thumb began circling roughly around your clit, feeling you contract around him, "Then, cum." With that command you unravelled, your thighs clamping against Toji whilst you shook. You could vaguely hear yourself swearing into Toji's shoulder, far away as every muscle in your body tensed and released.

Toji let out a soft groan, slowing you down to a gentle rocking motion as you came down. You whimpered, Toji's cock still hot and hard in your depths. You pulled back from his chest, looking at Toji with dazed eyes. He smirked at you, "You good there, babygirl? You cock-drunk?" you nodded, and then hissed as Toji lifted you off him. He pushed you onto your back, your body limp and legs still spasming. He grabbed you by each ankle and bent each knee back to your chest. Automatically, you wrapped your arms around your legs, watching as Toji lined himself up with your empty cunt. He slid back into you with an easy push, the sound of the firm skin of his torso slapping against your wet pussy accompanying your joint groans. Toji shifted, settling your calves on his shoulders and pressing even closer against your chest.

"Fuck, doll. You test me," he began to move again, and the first thrust choked his name out of your mouth with a howl. All you could feel was him, the only solid form in the soft fuzzy space he'd thrown you, his hot cock deep in your centre, filling you, stuffing you, stretching you. Even in the detached haze of your orgasm you could sense your core tightening once again as Toji slammed into you. The pace he set was rough, his pants heavy and ragged in your ear as his hips snapped into you. Yet, there was still control. You knew this man, you knew how he moved, and what it felt like when he let that final thread snap. He was holding back. You were too, biting you lower lip to hold back the flood of tears and softness and your most vulnerable submission. You wondered if Toji noticed, if he was curious, if he wanted all of it, all of you, to become his. You wanted him.

"Please-" you gasped between thrusts, "harder - fuck – please, fuck me harder." Toji lifted himself from the crook of your neck, green eyes narrowed at you sideways as his pace faltered, "What did you say?" You felt goosebumps ripple down your back and your skin slushed beneath his gaze. "Please, Toji, fuck me harder," you breathed, barely audible, your request falling heavily into the sweaty silence between you. "And what do think I've been doing, hah?" his upper lip lifted in a sneer, you could feel yourself heading ever closer to the edge. His hand wound itself around your neck and you hissed. Toji felt your cunt clench around him and watched as your pupils dilated. He increased the pressure on your throat and a little mewl left your swollen lips. He released your neck and slapped the meat of your thigh, hard. "I asked you something, sweetheart. Now, answer." "P-please," you huffed, the edge so close. You looked dead into his eyes, catching that glint, that power, that control in his eyes. You decided to throw yourself into the abyss, fuck the consequences. "Use me! Please - mark me, use me, I don't care - but please, Toji," you felt his stare harden, "take control, please?" You had never felt smaller, split on Toji's cock, and asking him to dominate you - even more than he had before. "You wanna be used, pretty little thing? Is that it? You wanna be fucked like a whore, used like a fucking toy?" you could feel Toji's muscles tensing around you, his measured control fading away into the gnashing of teeth and the gleam of hungry eyes. You nodded meekly, turning your face away from him. Thick fingers caged your jaw and tugged your face to his, "I need to hear you, babygirl - I need to hear what you want loud and clear, yeah?" his voice was low, dropping into strong vibrations through his chest to yours. Toji looked you dead in the eyes, unblinking, waiting. "Please use me, Toji," you whispered into his mouth, and he was moving.

The first thrust had your eyes roll back into your head, keening, shuddering at the harsh short strokes Toji was pounding into you. Heavy, wet slaps and guttural huffs rang through your ears as Toji lost himself in your gripping heat. Quick. Deep. Earth-shattering. Tears, fat and blubbering, ran down your cheeks as you clutched onto the bedsheets, your voice sweet and soft whilst you begged and sobbed and howled at the man drilling into your sloppy cunt. The tension built in your core, all your thoughts gone as your hands grappled and grasped at Toji's seething back muscles. Bloody scratches hissed down over his scarred sun kissed skin, and his pace stuttered. His fingers ran around your neck and your eyes fluttered closed at the slight pressure. Senses heightened, breath desperate and you were at the peak. "Look at me, whore. If you're gonna cum on my cock you better fucking look at me when you - hah - when you cum - fuck you're tight - you got that, doll?" Toji rasped, and you opened your eyes just as he tightened his grip on your throat. “I’m cumming, Toji, cumming-“ you breathed and Toji sped up, his chest to yours as he pushed you deeper into the mating press. “Then cum, sweetheart, cum on my cock like a good girl,” he kissed you as you came, drinking in your moans whilst your world spiralled away into fireworks. Your heart thundered, and your body flickered with live heat and white light. Your back arched and your drenched cunt clenched so tightly around Toji’s cock that he was thrown over his peak too.

“Not in their eyes. But what about ours? I love you as a man, Cho. Human or curse, I don’t care, I love you as Choso. Nothing more, nothing less.” “And you’d be damned with me? To be my wife would be to become like me.” “So? Does Yuuji treat any less because of who you are?” Choso shook his head, “then it doesn’t make a difference. As long as those who care about us accept us as we are, then everything will be okay.” Choso sighed, defeated. “And you? what about your family?” “My sister wouldn’t give a damn really. As long as you treat me well and I’m happy, then she’s happy. She’s my Yuuji. The rest aren’t important. I’m just an asset.” “But would you be happy with me? You’d never get a real wedding, a proper household, a name,” Choso worried, “God, I don’t even know if I could give you children.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, heart pounding as he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and kissed your palm, nestling his face into your hand. “I don’t need any of that, Cho. I just want you, to be yours. To be your wife, even if it’s only between us, a vow to be together.” Choso closed his eyes, filling his lungs with air, and then releasing it in a long exhale, shaking slightly. He wrapped your hand in both of his and dropped to one knee. “My love, would you do me the honour of being mine? Of being my wife through all eternity, despite who we are, and what I am?” You dropped to a crouch in front of him, whispering, “Yes, Choso. I will be your wife, but because of who we are, and who you are.” Choso kissed the top of your hand, before pulling you upright. “Turn around, love.”

You obeyed, confused until you felt the cold weight of a metal tag come to rest on your sternum. Choso’s classification tags from the storage warehouse at the school. The stainless steel label that had been punched to the tube in which he’d been trapped for god knows how long. Special Grade Curse. Death Painting 1. Suspected Creator: Kamo Noritoshi. Status: Half-curse. Destroy/Seal upon encounter. And scratched into the back by a childish hand, probably  by Kechizu, the kanji for Choso’s name. You turned to look at him.

“It’s not a ring, but it’s all I have besides these,” Choso examined his knuckles, and the nine engraved silver bands that adorned his fingers, “and Yuuji has the one with my name – “ he trailed off. You threw your arms around his neck, and kissed him on the mouth, hard. “Thank-you Choso,” you mumbled against him, “my husband. Mine,” you whispered. “Not yet, love,” you pulled back to look up at him, one side of his mouth twitched upward and he leaned down to kiss your ear, before murmuring hotly, “In my time, a couple was not married until after the wedding night,” he twirled a strand of hair around one of his fingers. “Then, make me your wife, Choso.”

Somewhere, somehow, something shifted in Choso. The normally downturned corners of his mouth curled upward into a smile, and you felt shivers ripple down your spine. Ring-bound fingers caged your jaw between his hands and he held you in place as he pressed his lips to your forehead. He flickered across your face, kissing your temples, cheekbones, eyelids, and the tip of your nose, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin.

“My love, my grace, my woman,” Choso chanted, peppering little pecks over every inch of your face. He backed you into the balcony railing and ran a hand down your shoulder to your waist, the other hand cupping your jaw to bring your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. You reached up and linked your hands around his neck, half on your tiptoes, half seated on the balustrade. Choso smiled into the next kiss, snatching your breath by covering your mouth with his. Warm and firm, Choso took over, moving your lips against his in a slow, sensual rhythm of gentle pushes and gasped breaths. He took his time with you, playing with the loose hair that had fallen from your hairpin, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric-covered flesh below your waist sash. He nipped at your lower lip, and stole your parted lips with a slip of his tongue.

You whimpered as Choso’s tongue entered your mouth, immediately hooked on the taste of bitter chocolate and honey that filled your senses. You carded your fingers through the silken strands of his hair, pulling slightly as pushed his tongue against yours. Choso hummed into you, swiping his tongue over your lip before biting down, watching your eyelashes flutter as you moaned. Gods, he could devour you. You were so sensitive, already intoxicating him with the sweet little noises you made as he kissed you, held you. He couldn’t wait to hear how you’d sound beneath him, around him. That sent a jolt to his cock, already half-hard and complaining in the confines of his slacks.

Choso renewed his domination of your mouth, nibbling, sucking and licking until your lips were swollen and your chest heaving. He felt like something holy to you. A sacred force, guiding you to worship. With each release of your lips you could feel your salvation, and you were addicted. His hair fell loose from its bun, falling in wild inky waves across his face and shoulders. Choso pulled back at the tickling of the strands, an unfamiliar, shining, grin spreading across his face. He flicked his hair back and paused to look at you.

“God, I could kiss you for eternity,” he praised, and without another word, lifted you by the waist onto the railing, a thigh between your parted legs, the arm at your waist holding you tight against him whilst the other gripped your hip. He rained kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. Almost naturally, you tilted your head, giving Choso access to the sensitive skin below the margin of your face. He licked over where he’d kissed you, his sudden hot tongue pulling a mewl from your mouth. Choso groaned, sucking gently at the spot just below your ear, hissing at the sound of your pleasure. You fell into a dreamlike haze, skin alight with his gentle ministrations. You fell into heaven, melting into his embrace, holy glow filling your body, murmuring prayers of his name in a litany of overwhelming whimpers and moans.

Just then, his hip rutted against you, catching against your already wet underwear, coaxing a sound from you that seemed to echo through the night. “Ssh, my love, do you want to be caught before I even take you?” Choso teased, rocking his pelvis back into your heat, before swallowing down your hitched gasp. You flushed, before holding your sleeve over your mouth. Choso returned to sucking dark marks on your neck and across your collarbones, his sharp nose nuzzling the shoulder of your dress aside to kiss the skin beneath. Another loud yelp nearly escaped you when the hand at your hip slipped between the tight overlap of your skirt to knead cold fingertips into the flesh of your thighs. “You’re so soft,” Choso murmured into your shoulder, dark eyes glittering as he bit at your skin. His hand travelled to your silken inner thigh, still moving against your soaked cunt as he traced loose shapes over your skin, inching ever closer to your heat. “God, I can’t wait to taste you, to make you cum on my tongue. Would you like that, my love? Would you let me worship your cunt with my mouth?” Choso rasped, giving a particularly hard thrust of his hips into your pussy. “Cho – Choso –“ you whimpered, embarrassed by the tightening in your core at his words, by how your cunt clenched at the thought of fucking Choso’s face. He chuckled at your flustered state, finally pushing the shoulder of your dress off, completely exposing the velvet skin interrupted by your bra-strap.

“Yo, Choso!” a chirpy voice broke the divine silence, “Kugisaki challenged us to a drinking game, you wanna team up with –“ Itadori halted, all four eyes like a deer in the headlights. He stood at the door to the balcony, halfway through the threshold. Golden light spilled from the hall, breaking the silver moonlight that bathed you and Choso. “Um,”  Itadori choked, cheeks red and a hand plastered over his eyes. “Brother,” you dove into Choso’s chest, hiding your hot face in the cool fabric of his shirt. “Yes?” “Leave. Now.” “Ah, yes – um, right – well, enjoy your evening!” the door slammed behind the boy, followed quickly by Choso’s laughter.

“Cho!” you smacked your hand against his chest, “how can you laugh at this? He – he saw us,” you winced at the sight Itadori had borne witness to. There would be no doubt as to what you’d been doing, what with your darkened cheeks, swollen lips, and your half-exposed chest, not to mention Choso’s hand up your dress. “Didn’t you need a witness, love?” Choso’s eyes glittered with satisfied mirth, “And Yuuji is probably the best person to have seen us, he has enough eyes. My brother is not the best at keeping secrets.” “Yes, but – “ “They will not come after you, tonight. They’re too deep in their cups. But come, let’s leave before someone else catches us.”

…

“May I?” Choso ran his fingers along the hem of your sash, eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, and turned so that your back was to him. You could feel him fiddle with the ties of the waistband, battle-hardened hands suddenly unsure with delicate silk between calloused fingertips. With a few more tugs and untangled knots, the sash fell free from your waist, and your dress hung loose over your body. You started when Choso pressed his lips to the back of your neck, his kisses tickling at your baby-hairs as his large, warm hands ran down your shoulders to your waist. He embraced you from behind, his broad chest pressed against your spine, his face tucked in the crook of your neck. Choso hummed as he laid open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder,

“Have you ever touched yourself, little one?” Choso rumbled, resting his cheek on your shoulder and looking at you. You craned your neck to meet his eyes, and immediately blushed when you fell into his dark gaze. “Tell me, love,” he coaxed, and ran his hands over the bare skin of your stomach. You shivered. He turned you, still encaged within his embrace to face the full-length mirror behind his door. “Show me, where do these pretty hands go when you’re alone?” his thumb and forefinger lifted your chin to force you to look into your own glossy eyes in the mirror. Choso held you against him, his broad frame so noticeably more clothed than yours, his rings flashing in the half-light of the moon as he stroked the soft skin of your stomach. You were suddenly grateful to your sister’s insistence on the white lace lingerie set you now wore, you doubted you’d be confident enough to make eye-contact with yourself, yet alone Choso, if you’d stuck to your old, mismatched and faded underclothes. “Um,” your voice trembled in the night, and you were sure your hands shook as you brought them up to your chest, “here,” you gestured to your breasts, avoiding Choso’s eyes. “Hmm, and how do you touch yourself, little one?” he loosely encased your hand in his, bringing it over your clothed tits and watching you with a strange darkness in his eyes.

It felt as if your skin was burning with how desperately you blushed, and you turned your face away before cupping your breasts in both hands. Choso’s hands covered yours, mimicking your movements as you began to work your fingers over your flesh. “Watch yourself, love, look at how heavenly you are, at how beautifully you move,” he brushed your hands away to run his fingertips along the hem of your bra and around the peaks of your nipples. As his hands met at your back, he unclasped to your bra and slipped the straps from your shoulders to drop the garment to the floor. Before you could cover yourself, his hands were on your tits again, rough fingers gentle over your silken skin as he rolled your nipples and groped your breasts. With each soft pinch, caress and teasing flick you could feel your cunt grow wetter, and brought your thighs together to create some, any, friction.

Choso noticed instantly, dropping one hand from your breasts to trace the hem of your panties with a featherlight touch. “And here? Do you touch yourself here?” You nodded, eyes squeezed shut, cunt clenching at the tingles his touch sent to your core. “Show me.” You slid a hand down your abdomen and below the elastic of your underwear. You gasped as your own hesitant fingers skimmed over your clit and into the liquid warmth of your arousal. You hissed through clenched teeth, you’d never been this wet, this desperate for touch. You scrambled to remember the previous times you’d done this, the faltering movements you’d run through in the dark hours of the morning, with nothing but Choso’s name on your lips.

You let out a soft sigh as you slipped two fingers into your pussy, bucking your hips at the intrusion. Choso muffled a groan into your shoulder, his hands working at your tits as he watched you try fuck your fingers. It was cute, really, your little whines of frustration as you struggled to reach your g spot with your fingers, the way your hips rolled onto an imaginary cock, left wanting as your cunt clenched around your inadequate efforts.

He rutted his hips against your ass, hissing out at the pressure on his cock as you instinctively rocked back. He brought a hand to your mouth, and ran his thumb along your bottom lip. “Suck my fingers for me, little one. Get them nice and wet for me,” Choso instructed, and you eagerly took him in, tongue running along his salty skin and sucking on his fingertips. He swore into the crook of your neck, before removing your hand from your panties and licking your sticky fingers into his mouth with a rumbled groan. “God, you taste better than I imagined,” Choso mumbled and ran his now-wet fingers down your torso. He played with the delicate lace of your underwear for a moment, then slipped his hand beneath it, hot against your pelvis. You held your breath as his fingertips neared the centre of your nerves, your chest heaving and cheeks flushed. His first exploratory pass over your clit had your pussy fluttering, and a staggering moan left your lips. He nipped a line along your shoulder, dark eyes never leaving yours as he watched you squirm in the mirror,

“Tell me, what do you think about when you touch yourself, love?” he asked, breath tickling the hair by your ear, right as he ran his fingers down into your drenched folds. “Little one, you’re so wet, all for me, hmm? Are you going to tell me what you thought about before?” He rubbed a slow circle around your clit, grinding himself against your ass as you arched your back into him. You bit your lower lip, caught in a pleasure-filled haze, Choso’s words so alien, to him, to you. But they struck you, each one lightning to your core, a divine revelation sent from heaven to earth. “Come on, you can tell me? I love you, little one. I want to know your deepest desires, darkest fantasies,” he slid his finger around the rim of your entrance, and the slow prickling of tears, of pleasure, formed behind your eyes in anticipation of what was to come. “Hah – you – fuck – Choso – you!” you panted, his thick finger slipping into you as you confessed your sins, your pussy clenching down hard on him, yet letting him in deeper, deeper into your wet heat. “Fu-uck,” you heard Choso swear for the first time, your burning body curving against him, so desperate for his intimate touch, but so fearful of the sting of your velvet walls as his finger delved further than your fingers had ever reached. “You think of me, love? You dream of me whilst these hands play with your cunt? What do you dream of, little one?” you whined, embarrassed as you caught the image of your rapture in the mirror. On your tiptoes, skin shining with sweat in the moonlight, body tense against Choso’s, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide and dark. You were a mess, his mess, his devotee, whimpering as he pulled his finger from you.

He re-entered you as he began to rub his thumb against your clit, finger pushing deeper. You felt the two rings rub up your walls and groaned, then yelped as he brushed against a spot that had your body shuddering. “There, hmm? That good?” you nodded quickly, legs buckling as Choso began massaging his fingertip against your g spot. He propped a thigh between your legs, holding you up against his torso with his muscled hold. “Aren’t you so sensitive, my pretty little one?” Choso cooed, “do you know how long I’ve craved you? How many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you? Of you saying my name as you cum around my cock, of eating out your pretty pussy, of watching you cum on my fingers.” He eased another finger into you, the wet sound of your cunt filling your ears, threaded into the hymns of your moans and Choso’s words. You mewled at the stretch, collapsing back into Choso at the tight pull and dizzying catch of his smooth rings against your soaking walls. He picked up his pace, his murmured praises and expert ministrations sending you higher and higher with every thrust. Your hips began rolling onto his fingers, fucking his hand as you climbed. He could feel your cunt clenching around him and began swiping his thumb quicker over your clit.

“I want you to watch yourself when you cum, love, to see how divine you are, how good you are for me.” Choso pressed hard into your cunt, and with the flick of his wrist you were cumming, staring into your own dazed eyes, drool running down your chin, body melting and tears openly rolling down your cheeks in big, fat drops. Choso pulled out your orgasm, slowly pulsing his fingers in your spasming pussy, eyes never leaving your reflection. You’d ascended, your hips bucking and body out of your control, nothing but holy light filling your head and heart.

Choso scooped you up into a bridal carry before laying you on his bed, your trembling legs hanging off the edge. “You did so well, my love. You look so gorgeous when you cum, so sweet, so lovely,” his eyes hardened, “No-one but me will ever get to see you like this, right love?” You nodded, tears still trickling down your cheeks, “Yes, Choso, yes. I’m yours, only yours,”  you mumbled, and he gave you that sweet smile of his again, fingers wiping the tears from your face. He tapped the two fingers that had been buried in your cunt against your lips, “Taste yourself, sweet thing.” You took his fingers in, licking up your tangy arousal and cum. Once clean, Choso began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the firm muscle of his torso, the breadth of his shoulders glowing as the moonlight caught his pale skin. You tentatively ran your fingers over his abdominals, smiling slightly as he shivered at your touch. He unbuckled and dropped his slacks and you gulped at the sight of his cock straining against his briefs.

“Choso –“ you started, but he placed his forefinger against your lips to shush you. He crouched between your legs, his hair shining and masterfully mussed in the silver wash of the moon. “It’ll fit, love. But we can stop, any time. Don’t be afraid to tell me, I  want your first to be as comfortable as possible,” he kissed each of your knuckles, “besides which, don’t think I’m done with your pretty pussy just yet,” his eyes glinted at you, before a wide palm pressed itself against your sternum. You flopped onto your back, protests on your lips as you shuffled onto your elbows to watch Choso hook his fingers into your underwear and peel it from your wet cunt. He groaned at the strings of sticky cum that joined your pussy to your panties, tossing them aside as he lifted each of your thighs onto a shoulders.

You jumped at the feeling of Choso’s hot tongue against you, writhing as he earnestly began to eat you out. His tongue pulsed inside you, the obscene noises of his lips and tongue slurping and drinking you in causing you to fall back and throw an arm over your eyes. You crooned when he sucked your clit, that heat in your belly rising to a simmer once again. He slid the same two fingers back inside your needy cunt, sitting back onto his haunches to suck and lick love bites onto the skin of your inner thighs. He spread you open, scissoring out your walls in preparation for his cock. He fought the twitching of his cock at the sight of your little pussy clenching at nothing, at the thought of your tight walls if he plunged into you now. You needed to be ready. It would hurt, he knew he was too big for it to be an easy fit, but he wanted to do anything, everything, to make sure you were relaxed enough for him to take you tonight. His wife, joined together with him for the very first time, and hopefully not the last. He coaxed you toward another orgasm, stretching you out and pressing gently against your spot, circling your clit with his tongue and sucking on it harder as he felt you clamp down on his fingers.

Your second orgasm came by surprise, rocketing you to another high without the long build-up, without the chance fro you to hold back your cries of Choso’s name and blasphemous curses. You were so deep in a hot haze, floating on Choso’s spice-scented sheets and lost to reality.

…

You looked at your intertwined hands, at how Choso’s milk-white skin shone in the moonlight, at the nine silver bands stacked across his fingers, one for each brother, at the neat red nail polish he’d probably applied earlier in the day. Your hands fit perfectly in his. He gave your fingers a soft squeeze, urging you on.

The words flew out in a whisper, nothing more than the rustle of wind in the trees, of leaves falling to earth. “Choso, I think I love you.”

His fingers trailed up your arms, nails brushing along your skin, goosebumps forming in their gentle wake. Choso leaned forward, shifting toward you until his chest was level with your  knees. His gaze held you, deep, dark, limitless. You shivered. “Are you scared?” he held your whisper, his low voice vibrating through ribs to where his chest touched you. You nodded. “Why? Do you think I’ll reject you?” You nodded again, shifting your gaze to just above his shoulder. “Well, I’m not,” he tilted his head to interrupt your eyeline, “in fact, I return your feelings.” “Huh?” “I love you too, little one. Ever since Asakusa.” Oh. Not one of your best moments, really. A snap decision to throw Inumaki halfway across an underground parking lot and take the hit from the curse yourself. There had been at least ten better ways you could have solved the problem without either of you getting hurt, but you’d acted on instinct instead. And earned a nice scar across your chest for your troubles. And Choso’s feelings.

You looked at him, falling into his eyes, trying to memorise the soft upward curve of one of his rare smiles. “You love me,” you breathed, fiddling absently at the rolled cuffs of his shirt. “Yes, I do.” Champagne bubbled up through your chest, filling every painful cavity with sweet, fluttering, warmth. You smiled. Genuinely. He loved you too. But nothing changed. You were still trapped.

Choso grabbed your hands and tugged you upwards. You rose to your feet, breathtakingly close to him, close enough to feel his body heat, close enough to hear his heart beat. Hesitantly, softly, he encircled you in his arms, pulling your body against him with one arm around your shoulders, the other around your waist. You reached to clutch at the front of his shirt, and buried your face into the warmth of his chest. You felt him rest his cheek against the top of your head, hearing him inhaling deeply and exhaling in a rumbling hum of content. You breathed in the spice of his scent, creasing his shirt as your fingers tightened their hold on him. You didn’t want to let go. Not now. Not after you knew his embrace.

All too soon, he loosened his hold and looked down at you. “Now what?” you asked, your heartrate spiking as you took in the sight of him. “I’m going to kiss you, unless you tell me not to,” he lightly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hands coming to softly grip your shoulders. You kept quiet. His eyes moved to your mouth and back to your eyes, asking you again, silently. You nodded.

His lips were soft, chapped. Choso’s kiss was light, barely the flutter of wings against your mouth. You stood on your toes and slid your palms up his chest. You felt his pectorals shift beneath the fabric of his shirt and he slung his arms around your waist. He kissed you again, this time, harder, longer, pressing his lips to yours in urgent prayer. Slowly you returned the kiss, letting the flow of his mouth guide you, mould your lips to his, move against him. And then it was over, and you were gasping for breath, pupils wide and eyes glossy. Your first kiss. Choso let out a long sigh, and rested his forehead against yours.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of you, little one? When I heard Zen’in bragging about your engagement I thought I’d die,” the hands at your waist grasped the fabric of your sash, and Choso looked into your eyes, “but now that I have you, I don’t think I can let you go,” he whispered. You swallowed, feeling those tears resurface. Choso’s mouth tightened, “Your clan don’t see me as a person, let alone a human. Why do you think I never told you how I felt? If I approached you with the intention to marry your clan would probably send you away, or marry you off to Zen’in before we could even say goodbye,” Choso’s nose crinkled, and he cursed, more to himself than you, “I’ve never been ashamed of my heritage, ever, until I realised that I could never be with you as your partner.”

His eyes drifted, the band across his face skewed by his frown and scrunched up nose. You lifted your hand and cupped his cheek in your palm. His skin was smooth, cold. He leaned into your touch, and your heart hiccupped. You went over his words,

“Wait – intention to marry?” your voice was louder than you expected, and you half-looked around you to see if anyone had heard you. Choso nodded, “Of course. I know that it’s an old idea, but it’s one I believe in.” He was dead serious. You blinked, “You want to marry me.” “Yes. But -” Choso began. “Would you ask me if you could?” You rushed out. You were on a rush, dizzy on a kiss, drunk on the idea of this man’s devotion. “You mean, would I propose to you? Despite what your clan would do to you if you agreed?” You nodded. “Of course, my love,” there was that slight smile, “I’d ask now if I could.” “Then ask me, Choso. Ask me to be your wife,” you tugged lightly on his shirt and he leaned back to look at you, “But your clan?” “Forget about my clan, Cho. I want out – and I can get out, but I need to know if you’re serious about being with me before I do something stupid,” you stare into Choso’s eyes, watching as he goes over your words. “Of course I’m serious. I love you, endlessly. But there’s really no way a girl like you can get out of a clan, no matter how strong of a sorcerer you are,” his tone was soft, sad, and you squeezed his hand. “There is one way. One my sister used, unintentionally.” “What is it? I will help if I can.” “Well that would be useful, since I can’t really do this on my own,” you tilted you head to look at Choso, who frowned. “Little one? I don’t understand.” “I can’t get married, or remain in the clan, if I’m not a virgin.”

…

“You ready for me, little one?” Choso pulled you back into orbit, his glistening face saintly as he looked up at you. You nodded and he clambered onto the bed. He picked you up and shuffled you until you lay on his pillows at the head of the mattress.  He grabbed a pillow and positioned it below your ass, spreading your limp legs out so that your cum-soaked cunt was on full display.

“So beautiful,” Choso kneeled back to look at you, eyes half-closed and glazed with lust. Somewhere between eating you out and positioning you, he’d rid himself of his briefs and now his thick cock pulsed against his lower abdomen. “Relax, my love,” he took his cock in hand and leaned over you. He spat into his palm and rubbed it along his shaft before running his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. He lowered himself to hold his body over yours on his forearm. “Breathe out slowly for me,” he instructed, his large tip at your fluttering entrance. You obeyed, exhaling in a steady stream, only hitching as he pushed his head inside you. A fresh wave of tears built up behind your eyelids, and you squeezed them shut, terrified that he’d stop if he saw your discomfort.

Chapped lips kissed softly at the corners of your eyes, reassurances whispering themselves against your cheeks as Choso sunk in another fat, hot inch. The stretch burned, but the anticipated fullness of his thick cock in your cunt sent tingles of arousal to your core that kept you open and ready for him. “You okay, love?” Choso asked, paused in perfect stillness, knuckles caressing your cheek whilst the other hand rubbed comforting circles into the flesh of your hip. “Yes, Choso,” you breathed, “please.” He peppered kisses over your face and pressed deeper into you, swallowing down your gasps in a sudden open-mouthed kiss. “You’re doing so well. Your pretty cunt is taking me so well, all tight and wet for me.” Choso whispered, as bottomed out in a long thrust into your velvet heat. He groaned then, cursing as he held himself still inside your gripping walls. You moaned, drawn out and strained, willing your muscles to relax around the hot cock inside you.

Eventually, all you could feel was Choso, the twitching of his length inside you, the incredible completeness you felt at the fullness of your cunt. You breathed in nothing but the sweet spice of his smell, only tasted the salt of his sweat and the bitter chocolate of his tongue. “Please, take me. I’m ready. Make me yours, Choso,” you prayed, lips against his, gazing into the darkness of his eyes. He hesitated, asking you silently for your certainty, you bucked your hips against his pelvis, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He moved out of you, hissing as he exposed all but his head before burying himself slowly back inside you. You moaned at the friction against your walls, at the press of his tip against a spot that had your eyes rolling back. You lifted your thighs to grip at his waist, and looped your arms under Choso’s to dig your nails into his rippling back muscles. You sighed out his name as the pain ebbed away with each careful roll of his hips into your heat, at the way he stared so deeply into your eyes.

Choso quickened, moving in shorter thrusts, small grunts falling from his lips as he lost himself in the heaven between your legs. You clung to him, nails creating red trails down his back, each fuck choking moans and whimpers from your mouth. God, you loved this man, the feeling of him rocking inside you even more divine than your fantasies, the sight of him above you more holy than the visage of angels, the sounds of your passion more heavenly than the most reverent hymns. With each push, the headboard of his bed knocked into the wall, the feet of the bed shifting over the old wooden floors with creaks and groans as Choso laid his love over you. His speed and intensity climbed, the prayer of your name and sung praises of your soul increased as he gave into your body, climbing to his own revelation. You rose with him, your back arched, mouth agape and body shuddering as each stroke claimed your pulsing depths, kissing the sensitive spot within your pussy.

“Choso – love – I’m gonna – I’m gonna cum – soon –“ you sobbed, and Choso rumbled his acknowledgement, shifting to rub your clit with small, tight circles. One hard thrust threw you to heaven, your orgasm sending your mind into spirals of white pleasure and a mess of twitching limbs. The sudden choking of your cunt around Choso’s cock sent him into his own climax, the pair of you groaning at the warmth of his white love filling your insides. Choso slowed his thrusts, mumbling praises into your collarbone until he stilled, your panting and the thick squelch of your mixed fluids the only sounds in the room.

“My wife,” Choso whispered, kissing along your shoulder, over the dark marks he’d left before, “are you okay?” He sounded a little scared, and you smiled, lacing your fingers into his sweat-soaked hair and pulling his face back to look at him properly, “Never better, Choso. I love you,” you placed a soft kiss on his lips, waiting until he gave you his smile. “I love you too, little one.” He pulled himself from you, pausing only to watch his cum dribble from your now-empty cunt. You barely remembered what happened after that, only the steaming water of a bath and Choso’s firm fingers working at your aching muscles, and the deep warm sleep curled up in his arms.

…

“I’m so sorry,” you said, holding the pillowcase out, the dark-red drops accusatory. “Relax, love. Do you really think a little bit of blood will disturb me? Me?” Choso folded his arms, a teasing curl on his lips as he leaned against his kitchen counter. You grumbled into the collar of his sweater, perched on a couch, your stiff legs folded beneath you. “Plus, isn’t that normal?” Choso placed your mug of tea on the table in front of you before seating himself right beside you. You shrugged, “Apparently, but most girls tear their hymens before sex from being active, you know? I thought with all the combat I do – “ you frowned, but threw the pillowcase you’d lain on when Choso had fucked you last night aside and snuggled into his side. You’d just settled when there was a knock on the door, and you and Choso shared nervous looks. He got up and opened the door, only to hold up your overnight bag in confusion. There was no-one at the door. “That’s mine. I was meant to sleep over with Maki.” You took your bag. There was a note attached,

Thought you might need this – don’t think it would look too good to be seen in his clothes. Tried to cover for you, but was too late. Nearly everyone knows. It didn’t help that half the campus heard you two trying to break the bed. The elders are in one hell of a state – and Naoya looks like he’s planning a murder.

I suggest the pair of you get off campus ASAP.

BTW good idea. Not that I’d do that. But that’s one way to get out of the clan.

“Maki thinks we should get out of here,” you looked up to your partner, who fiddled with his ring as you read the note. “Where to? You can’t go home.” “That was the point,” you giggled, “I’ve got an account separate to the family. We could go anywhere, really. Just soon. Zen’in is on the warpath.” Choso shrugged before rising to his feet, “I don’t blame him. He just lost his special little virgin fiancée to a curse, one that had beat him in combat before, too.” “Yeah, well if he comes after us, I’m gonna show him how much more I am than a brood mare to be locked away from jujutsu sorcery.” “You’ll show him why even Okkotsu is scared of you,” Choso smiled. Right then, your overnight bag began to ring.

There was no missing him. Standing a good head above most of the patrons, the stranger drifted through the crowds with dangerous grace. He had hair the colour of pitch, slicked back to show his face, though a few wayward strands broke free to fall over his eyes. His eyes were sharp, like the keen edge of a knife. You shivered, hoping that his crystal-cut gaze would gloss over you and the gaggle of men at your feet. He strolled in with the breath of war behind him, rolling his impossibly broad shoulders beneath the ripple of his black leather jacket. He didn’t wear the Zen’in insignia, a serpentine dragon over an unfolded fan, instead, a myriad of patches adorned the supple leather, the most obvious being a Tanuki holding a bottle of Sake and a golden Lucky Cat. You frowned, zeroing in on the ornate Kitsune patch in the centre of his back. You didn’t know that sign, and you’d been quick to familiarise yourself with the various gang signs and ranks when you’d initially moved to the area.

The stranger settled himself comfortably at a table amongst the crowd, signalling for a waiter with practised ease. You returned to your routine, confident that you’d avoided his attention. You shimmied, shook, and twirled your way through the next few songs, taking your tips with a dazzling smile and gracious curtsy when your co-worker came to take over your stage. You blew a kiss to your customers and sauntered back to the changerooms, hoping for a quick break before returning to another stage. You threw yourself onto an empty chair, kicking up your heels on the vanity table. You grabbed some water and sipped halfway through the bottle, rubbing at your calves absentmindedly.

A knock echoed through the otherwise empty room, then the door opened. You frowned at the intruder: your supposed supervisor, Nobuaki Zen’in. He slunk into the room, all grease and the nervous fluttering of hands. “Usually you wait for permission before walking into a women’s changeroom, boss,” you raised an eyebrow at him. He scowled. “I knocked.” “And then walked in anyway. What if I was changing?” you threw back. Nobuaki’s upper lip curled into a nasty sneer. “So what if you were, girlie? It isn’t something I haven’t seen before,” his pinprick eyes crept over your skin, and you wished you had thrown your jacket on when you’d first entered the room. Internally, you shook off his gaze, flicking oil from your skin as your posture straightened and your glare levelled with his. “What you see on the pole is a product. In this room I’m a person, there’s a difference,” you let your tongue throw his venom back, then, “do you need me for anything?” The grin he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. It was wide, too wide, too full of teeth. His tone was laced with sadistic glee, yet you caught the tremble in his hands, the tension in his jaw. He was scared. “Customer wants you. VIP lounge.” You glanced at the clock. “My shift finishes soon. Aren’t there other girls who are working later?” You didn’t want to deal with a private client. Not tonight. You couldn’t stomach another poorly disguised solicitation and wandering hands. You’d had enough for tonight. But Nobuaki shook his head. “Sorry, girlie, but you were requested. Specifically.” You openly groaned, and Nobuaki tensed. “Alright,” you huffed, “but this geezer better pay me well. I haven’t taken a single break this shift.” You lifted yourself from your seat, folding yourself in half to touch your toes. You decided to ignore the way Nobuaki nearly salivated at the sight. You wiped yourself down and reapplied some perfume and lipstick, then gave your boss a plastic smile. “Well, into the lion’s den I go,” you joked. …

Unfortunately, you weren’t joking. The stranger was already seated when you entered the room, his broad frame taking up a good chunk of the couch set against the wall. Those light, carnivorous eyes sent prickles down your spine, his gaze devouring you as he looked you over. You gave him a respectful nod. “Good evening, sir,” you trained your voice into lace-clad steel, steady yet sweet, “could I get you something to drink before I start?” You motioned to the opened door. Your customer spoke, voice blooming with smoke and gunpowder, sharp as a knife. “No, thank you, doll,” he gestured to a half-empty glass on a low table beside the couch, and you nodded in understanding. You closed the door and moved to the sound system, scrolling through the playlists to find an appropriate set. You glanced at him from the corner of your vision. He was older, a faint dusting of silver threading through the edges of his hairline, yet his body was near perfection. You clenched your jaw, internally shaking off your admiration for his physique. There was something familiar about him, something beyond his predatory aura that pricked your hackles. You peeked at him again, accidentally catching his gaze.

His eyes. That was it. His eyes were feline, the edges dark with thick lashes. You knew those eyes, looked into them nearly every single day. Zen’in eyes. You set your shoulders into iron. Stay calm, stay cold, stay out of reach. That was your motto when it came to the clan. You finally found one of your older playlists, from before you started working at the Zen’ins, The songs were slower, murkier, and, unfortunately, raunchier. But they were old blues ballads, more guitar and bass than your usual. “Hey, sweetheart.” Your head snapped to look at the stranger. He was probably getting impatient. You rolled your shoulders and neck, staring at him expectantly. “You mind if I smoke?” he raised a hand, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, an archaic zippo lighter clutched to his palm, “I’ll keep it away from you, promise.” His lips curled upward on one side. You wouldn’t trust a promise from this man, even if your life depended on it. But he’d asked, which was unusual. Most would light up without consideration, blow the foul smoke into your face whilst you danced between their legs. “Of course, sir,” you flashed your silicone smile, “would you like me to begin on the pole or move straight to a lap dance?” He tilted his head and tapped his index finger on his closed lips. His mouth was scarred, a short but deep gash cutting perpendicularly through his lips. You winced inwardly, that must have hurt. It looked old though, poorly healed, but old. His eyes scanned over your skin once more. “Start however you like, doll. It’s your show,” he waved with a lazy hand. You raised a brow at him but chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth. You took to the pole, pausing to get the feel of the music before you began.

Fuck, you missed dancing like this, letting the music flow through you like lit oil, smooth yet scorching. You spun and twirled your way through the first song, fighting the smile from your face as joy pumped through your veins. Your body took over, rolling you into moves you’d almost forgotten. Right then, in that intoxicating moment, the man watching you didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Just you, your body, and your craft. At the first low notes of the third song, you pulled yourself away from the pole, swaying your hips as you approached the stranger. He took a long, unhurried sip of his whisky whilst you sauntered towards him, putting his glass aside and lightly placing his lit cigarette into the ashtray beside his drink. He spread his knees and looked up at you under half-closed lids.

“Do you know the rules, sir?” you’d learned long ago how to make your voice carry over the music. He nodded, “I ain’t a savage, sweetheart. I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want me to,” the smirk he gave you sent heat straight down your spine to the apex of your thighs. Fuck. A look like that should be illegal. You dropped to a crouch between his legs, giving him a good view of your breasts. You trailed your fingers over his knees, nails pressing into the dark denim. You pawed your way up his thighs, inwardly groaning at the corded muscles you squeezed. You ghosted past his crotch, straightening your legs to bend over him. Walking their way up his torso, your fingers brushed over tight abs and his developed pecs, dipping teasingly beneath the collar of his shirt before running up his neck. You leaned in close, cupping his jaw with one hand and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck with the other. His face was almost set in stone, but you caught the sliver of his tongue running against his lips, the dilation of his pupils. You ran your thumb along his bottom lip, your breath flowing over his. You fluttered your eyelids closed.

And then you were gone. You spun around and smirked at him over your shoulder, lowering your body to roll your hips onto his lap. You slipped your hands up your torso, over your breasts, around your neck and down, rocking your ass back against him. From the periphery of your vision, you saw him reach over the arm of his seat to fetch his smoke, nearly starting when his fingers lightly brushed the flesh of your hip. His skin was rough, calloused, not at all like the pampered hands of the clan’s officials. His touch was teasing, ghostly, his index finger running down your spine to snap the elastic of your garter belt. You dropped a shoulder to watch him, watching how smoke snaked from his mouth in a slithering cloud, blown purposefully away from your face. He raised his eyebrow at you and you gave him a smirk in return.

Suddenly, both of his hands made contact with your skin, hot and heavy. He rested his touch on your hips, giving you enough leeway to move in his grip. You held back the hitch in your breath, desperately focussing on the music instead of the heated brush of his fingers. His caresses were electric, briefs flashes and strokes over your curves, never going too far, not going far enough. You fought the urge to fully grind against him, to grab his hands and place them over where you wished for their warmth to violate you. Instead, you hummed along to the song, subtly lowering your hips to drag your clothed cunt over his crotch, featherlight, almost “accidental.” A gravelled curse rumbled from the man behind you, and he pinched at the soft flesh of your hips. The sound rippled through you in a heatwave, your skin flushing with warmth. 

His hold on you grew firm, fingertips pressing into the plush of your body, you wanted to lean into it, into the feel of his touch, his lust. But you pulled away, slipping down onto your haunches, your shoulders holding his knees apart. You stuck your tongue out at him, throwing a smoky look over your shoulder as your legs straightened. You were folded in half right in front of him, ass on display as you rolled your spine upwards. Your hands trailed up your legs, your thumbs hooking underneath your garters to snap the elastic harshly against your skin. The silky flesh of your thighs rippled from the impact, and your observer let out a choked cough. You grinned and cupped your hands under your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze before slapping them lightly. Your fingers danced around your hips, and, still half-bent over, you reached between your legs, hands fluttering to catch the stranger’s attention as you traced your fingertips over your clothed cunt. You caught his gaze when you straightened up completely, your heart jumping in your chest at the look in his eyes. The line between bloodlust and lovelust was drawn in dripping red, and with each swish and sway of your hips, you danced along that line.

You sidled away from the stranger, throwing yourself back around the pole until the end of the playlist. As the last strains of the whisky-soaked guitars died into the near-silent gloom of the room, you stepped from your stage and nodded your head, a subtle bow to yourself, a subtle signal to your client that the first part of the show was over. Sweat trickled down your body in glossy droplets, growing cold in the murky air. The stranger shifted, crossing one leg over the other and tapping the ash from his cigarette with practised ease. He eyed you clinically.

“You’re good,” he commented, taking a deep pull from the cigarette. “Thank you, sir,” you shifted your weight awkwardly, suddenly well aware of how naked you were, of how clothed he was. “Take a seat, doll,” he gestured to the far end of the couch, “I won’t try anything.” You bit your bottom lip, then decided to sit on the floor a few metres away, grabbing a cushion from the shelf behind you to make yourself comfortable. “Sir, you still have half an hour left, are you sure I can’t give you another dance?” “Nah, the rate these fuckers will give you for one hour in here’s only worth one of your dances, sweetheart. And call me Toji, none of that ‘sir’ shit.” You nodded, frowning. He watched you, predatory eyes slipping over your flesh, your face, the flame in your eyes. “Yeah, you’re definitely too good for this shithole. How’d you end up here, huh?” “Um,” you tilted your head. “Let me guess, cheaper than the city?” You nodded. He sipped at his whisky, gazing at you over the rim, and for the first time, you wished that the lights weren’t so dim. His eyes were beautiful, dangerous, and you were becoming bewitched. “It may be cheaper than the city, but it means that these dogs will scam you out of the rates you deserve.” “The cut isn’t too bad,” you mumbled, “it’s enough for a starter.” He tapped his ash off and took another drag. He motioned you to come closer, but you baulked.

He stood, putting his drink and smoke to one side, idling forward to tower over you. You rose to your feet quickly but planted yourself firmly. Your knees shook. “I’m gonna let you in a secret, sweetheart,” he leaned in, making eye contact. You shivered. “Those rates? They aren’t gonna rise, doll. Not unless you get taken in by one of the family, do you know what I mean?” You shook your head. “The Zen’ins keep a close eye on their dancers, and I’m sure that you’ve caught someone’s attention by now, else you’d be on the main stage. Sooner or later, one of those dogs is gonna claim you, offer you a higher cut in exchange for ‘other services,’” Toji cast air quotes around the last words, and your jaw dropped. “Seriously?” “Dead serious, doll. I would know, I was one of them,” he pulled at the collar of his shirt, revealing an expanse of tanned skin covered in ink. Your eyes widened at the Zen’in crest settled at the junction of his neck and shoulder. You took a step back. “Relax, sweetheart. I got out over twenty years ago, got sick of their shit. But I’m warning you, once they’ve made their offer, it’s over,” he sighed, stretching to his full height and running his hands through his hair. “What do you mean? If you think they can threaten me into becoming a Zen’in whore, you can think again. I’d rather get fired,” you huffed, crossing your arms. His lips twitched upward. “Of course, doll. You got a smart head on your shoulders. But they won’t fire you, they’ll sell you.” You gulped, blinking at him. Sell you? Like trafficking? For real? He gave a grim sigh. “Every gang’s got its speciality, the Zen’ins’ is flesh, specifically female flesh.” You retched and shuddered. Goosebumps flowered over your bare skin, and before you could stop it, you were shaking.

Strong, rough hands wrapped around your shoulders, their grip firm, solid. You looked at Toji, who was gazing at you. His eyes were green, you realised. Your eyes grazed over the scar across his lips. Did the Zen’ins do that? “That’s it, keep looking at me. Big breaths, sweetheart,” he murmured, and you found yourself mimicking his respiration. He smelt of nicotine, and whisky, and an underlying musk of cinnamon and other spices. You stopped shaking. “You act all tough, don’t you, doll?” Toji ran his knuckles over your cheek, you tried not to lean into his touch. “But you’re really just a rabbit trapped in the wolves’ den.”

A small keen bubbled at the back of your throat as he stepped closer, too close. All you could see was green, dizzying emerald green. Dark and deadly. He leaned in until his lips nearly brushed your ear. “Tell me, bunny, what are you going to do?” You clenched your jaw. “What are you offering?” you peered at him out of the corner of your eye. Toji laughed, a deep raspy chuckle that erupted from his chest, somehow warm, somehow terrifying. “Hah! I like you, bunny. You got more guts than all the Zen’ins combined. Not many people would ask for my help,” he rumbled, still close, still intoxicating. You raised a brow at him. “I’m not asking for your help, I’m asking for a deal. Get me out of here, and I’ll give you something in return,” your voice trembled near the end, and you wondered what you were promising.

Were you crawling free of the wolves’ den, just to leap into the jaws of a lone killer? You had little to no money, nothing of real value, and all you could really sell was your body. You supposed it was better than being a slave. You looked over Toji. He was big, and you were breakable. But who would break their own toy? “I ain’t interested in buying your body, so you can forget about it,” Toji smirked. You cocked your head. “Well I don’t have much else, do I? I’m not gonna get involved in whatever your business is, and I don’t have any money.” “Hmm,” Toji tapped his lips in thought, index over his scar. “How about this, I give you a name, nothing more – and in return,” he paused. A name. A name could get you places. This business was all about contacts. You steeled yourself for whatever he’d ask of you. “In return, I get a kiss and a chance. Sound good, sweetheart?” he pinched your cheek. “A kiss and a chance?” your tone was incredulous, your eyes narrowed, “what kind of chance?” “A chance for more conversation,” Toji shrugged, “I like to talk, and you intrigue me,” he smirked. You deliberated. “Fine. My shift finishes soon. You can meet me in the lot behind the bar. I know a diner where we can talk,” you levelled. Toji smiled, baring his teeth. “They got burgers?” you nodded, surprised that he agreed so readily. “Uh-huh, milkshakes too.” “Deal,” his grin grew wider, a little manic, and you shivered. You looked at the clock, just over his shoulder. “We’re nearly out of time,” you frowned, “you sure I can’t give you another dance?”

Toji glanced behind him, frowning at the time. Then he returned to you. “I’d like to get the first half of my bargain, doll, so that if you ditch me I at least got something to remember you by,” he murmured slyly, crowding into your space. You sighed and was suddenly grateful that the club didn’t have cameras in the private rooms. “Sure,” you mock-grumbled, then closed your eyes and readied yourself. His lips were chapped, but gentle, a slight press to your mouth that sent a tingle through your body. And then he pulled away. No tongue, no groping, just a chaste peck and a teasing glint in his half-lidded eyes. What game was he playing? You frowned. “You can do a bit better than that,” you stated and earned a silent chuckle. “I don’t wanna get slapped across the face. I’ve got a reputation.” “Not as a gentleman, though,” you snarked. His eyes lit up. “Does the bunny want more?” he cooed. You huffed. “Just wanna keep up my end of the bargain,” you crossed your arms, breasts now against his chest, “But not too far, I don’t wanna walk out of here with your handprints everywhere.” “Alright, doll,” he held up his palm, “Thieves’ Honour.” “Isn’t that just lying?” you pouted, as he snaked an arm around your waist, tugging you even closer. “Nah, it’s the opposite. It’s the only way to get liars to tell the truth,” he flashed you another feral grin. And then he kissed you. Properly. Deeply.

His hand cupped your jaw, leading your lips to his, his thumb caressing your cheek just as his mouth made contact. This time, the kiss was firm, his lips commanding as they closed over yours. You let out a gasp as he pinched your waist, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth. The kiss was languid but intense, all slow presses and breathless huffs as his lips moved against yours in a molten rhythm, his tongue dipping and licking into your mouth that had your jaw slack and knees weak. One of your hands wound itself into the front of his shirt, your palm flat over his solid, warm, chest. The other hooked around his neck, your fingers woven into the longish hair at the nape of his neck, an exploratory tug earning you a throaty grunt and a light nip to your lower lip. His hand had moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding your head firmly in place so that he could control the kiss. And you let him take control, stumbling slightly as he pulled you flush to his frame, his arm wrapped around you and his fingers deep in the plush of your hip. You couldn’t help the whine in the back of your throat, the burning need that flickered through your body. If this was how he kissed, you would hate to know how he fucked. Or love to. You fought the growing need to rock your hips into him, to give into him fully. This was business. A kiss for a name. Just a kiss, nothing more. But fuck, if you weren’t wishing for more.

Toji released you with a sloppy peck to your lips, breaking the string of saliva that hung between your wet mouths. You stepped back from his hold, blinking away your dazed gaze and shaking your liquid muscles back into shape.  “Satisfactory?” you prompted him, surprised that you could even speak. When last had you been kissed so well? Hell, when last had you been kissed?” A dark chocolate chuckle was your response. Toji ran his thumb along his bottom lip, wiping away your lipstick. “I’d fucking say so,” he gave you a Cheshire grin. Your cheeks flushed with heat in a sudden wave of shyness. He leaned back into your space, and you breathed in his scent with half-closed eyes. “Nice doing business with you,” he smiled as he stepped away, grabbing his biking jacket from the couch and pulling a fresh cigarette free from an inside pocket. You cocked your head, once again examining the patches sewn haphazardly onto the black leather. “I gotta ask, Toji. If you aren’t a Zen’in, then what are you? What’s your business?” it was a bit late to be investigating, but you wanted to know what breed of devil you’d made a deal with. He balanced the smoke between his hips as he spoke, eyes glittering and mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m just a businessman, sweetheart,” he flicked his lighter, “it just so happens that my business isn’t legal, that a problem?” there was something wolfish in his gaze, a challenge. You shrugged. “I work for a well-known gang, Toji,” you raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed out a snake of smoke. “Not for much longer, doll. Or are you regretting that kiss?” You shook your head. He sauntered back to you, his free hand coming up to stroke your hairline, your eyes fluttering closed. He placed a featherlight kiss on your cheek, then turned away.

He paused in the doorway, arm coming up to grip the top of the doorframe as he cast a look at you over his shoulder. “See you later, sweetheart.” …

The girls tittered and giggled around you, all glittery, feathered, and dazzling. But not for long. Their brilliant costumes came off in scraps of lace and frills, swatches of fake leather, and scatterings of rhinestones, all accompanied by mumbled complaints and cheerful gloating over the night’s highs and lows. You stood amongst them, another colourful soldier in their ranks. You peeled the Zen’in-approved pieces from your body, wiping yourself down with a damp cloth before sighing into your own, comfortable underwear and clothes. You’d just slipped on a pair of joggers when the door to the dressing room burst open, startling the girls into a series of screams and nervous laughter, rushing to cover what little had yet to be exposed to the public eye.

You squared your shoulders and strode forward through the throng, fully expecting to see Nobuaki, a harsh scolding scorching at the tip of your tongue. “What did I say about barging in-!” you started, then stopped, mouth open. You did not know this man. But some of the girls did. Heads fell below shoulders, deferent and abashed. You saw flashes of white, the girls’ eyes wide with fear as the intruder walked into the room.

He was a Zen in, that was certain. His eyes were lighter than Toji’s, his intentions more clear. Not that his intentions were good. He was young, maybe a few years older than you, with bleached blonde hair and multiple piercings in his ears. If you were a couple of years younger, you would have drooled over the sight of him, but, now, standing in just your bra and joggers, in the sanctity of your own dressing room, you were less than pleased. “Can I help you, sir?” the ‘sir’ was spat out, and you heard a few gasps behind you. A lazy grin tore across the intruder’s face. “I think you can, sweetheart,” the saccharine-soaked ‘sweetheart’ caused you to curl your lip. It tasted like poison coming from his mouth, or anyone’s mouth. Anyone’s but Toji’s.

The mention of your name had you frowning. How did he know your name? You didn’t know the guy, or at least you didn’t think you did. You tried to forget men like him, tried to forget how their words felt like hot grease over your skin. “Everyone, out,” the man commanded, “except you.” You scrunched your nose at the finger pointed in your direction. Just who did he think he was? It wasn’t like he was the boss’s son, the mysterious guy who apparently owned the club. Everything rustled around you, the girls scurrying to grab coats and gowns to cover themselves before slinking out the door, meek squeaks of “Sorry, Naoya, sir,” “Excuse us, Mister Naoya,” falling from their painted lips. Your spine stiffened. Naoya. Turns out he was the boss’s son. Your boss. And now you were in a room, alone, with him. Fuck.

He gave you a smile, his cheer never reaching his eyes. “You’ve been working with us for quite a while now, haven’t you?” You shrugged. “Half a year, give or take,” you answered, tone neutral. “And yet you’re still a starter, hmm? Why is that?” “I don’t know, sir,” you answered, Toji’s words suddenly very loud as they echoed through your thoughts. You just hadn’t expected this so soon. Naoya closed his eyes and gave a tight-lipped smile. “Do you know who I am, sweetheart?” he took a step towards you. You stood firm. “You’re my boss, although I don’t believe we’ve met before, have we?” Naoya shook his head. “No, I don’t like to introduce myself until I’m sure that our new hires are gonna last,” he moved closer, hands in his pockets, his dress pants slightly too tight. You put on your plastic smile. “Then, can I take this as a good sign, sir?” “A very good sign, sweetheart. Because I’m thinking of moving you into one of the later slots, one of the more popular slots, if you understand what I’m saying,” he gestured with upturned palms. You nodded. “I’d  be getting a raise?” Play stupid. Play him. You pitched your voice higher and bounced on the balls of your feet. He licked his lips. “Yeah, sure, baby. You’d get to pick which private dances you take too,” a scowl crept across his brow, “no more sessions with outsiders, yeah?” He was only a step away from you now, and you could smell his cologne. Strong. Expensive. Nauseating. You nodded.

“That sounds really nice, sir,” you cooed, and internally rolled your eyes. How dull was this guy? You’d nearly chewed his head off upon arrival, and now he was eating up your puppy-dog act like it was his last meal. “Of course it does, sweetheart. I’ve been looking out for you,” he sidled into your personal space, “girls like you are appreciated here.” You looked at him expectantly. Waiting for the punchline, the terms and conditions, Toji’s truth. “But unfortunately I can’t just do that, baby.” There it was. “What do you mean, sir?” His hand traced over where Toji had touched you less than half an hour ago, ringed fingers trailing along your hairline to hold his knuckles below your chin. “The world just doesn’t work that way,” he sighed dramatically, “It’s all give and take, sweetheart.” His thumb pressed down on your bottom lip, pulling it against your chin before releasing. You resisted the urge to retch. “What can I do, sir?” You were ‘playing’ right into his hands, and he was fucking obvious about it. “Not much, sweetheart,” his other hand brushed below your breasts. He leaned in, “just be my girl, yeah? Let me take care of you, but you gotta take care of me, understand?”

His fingers dug into your breast, and his lips crashed into yours, harsh and pushy. You snapped. You shoved him away with a grunt, scrambling to your dressing station to grab your bag and a jacket. Naoya stumbled a few steps but regained his balance, immediately storming your way. You swung your handbag, and the hit landed. “What if I don’t want to, huh? Maybe I want to get promoted because I’m fucking good at my job and not because I sucked your dick?” Naoya nearly growled at you, crouched and holding his jaw. His face had probably made contact with your hydraulic flask. Good. “You’re gonna regret that, whore.” You bared your teeth. “I don’t fucking think so, bastard. Because I’d rather die than get sold as a sex slave because I didn’t want to be your whore.” You yelled loud and clear, your voice carrying past the dressing room, to the crowd of eavesdroppers you knew were listening in. Naoya’s eyes grew wide and his mouth tight. “What did that fucker tell you?” “Who? Toji?” you threw on your jacket, “nothing much. Just that the Zen’ins run a pretty lucrative sex trafficking business using girls from the club.” You could hear voices from beyond the door.

Naoya stood, fists clenched. You needed to get out of there, fast. You strode past him, throwing open the door and charging through the gaggle of frightened girls that huddled at the threshold. Then, you ran. You sprinted down the corridor, skidding on the cheap linoleum as you rounded the final corner. The backdoor was propped open, and you burst through it with hell on your heels. Naoya’s yells could be heard echoing through the passageways and your eyes scanned the empty lot for a hope.

He was leaning against a monster of a bike, all chrome teeth and black paint that shone beneath the only streetlamp in the carpark. He looked at the sound of your sneakers scuffling over the gravel, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out with a boot. “Hey there,” he gave you a smirk, which quickly melted into a frown at the sight of your flushed face and the several dark figures that chased you. “Hey,” you were breathless, and probably a little too high on adrenaline. “Wanna get me fired?”

Toji’s nose scrunched, but before his question could leave his lips, you were tugging the lapels of his jacket and kissing him, hard. The groan he let out vibrated through you, his hands pulling your hips greedily into his as he took over the kiss. A loud shout pulled you apart. Toji glanced between you and the club, the light from the backdoor illuminating a fuming Naoya, whose curses and insults fell flat in the thick night air. Toji grinned. “Need a ride, doll?” …

The door to Toji’s hotel room slammed shut behind you, and you found your back pressed flush to the cold wood. Toji kissed you like a man starved, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you panted into his mouth. His hands travelled over your body in gasping touches, eventually settling on your hips and lower back. He pushed you firmly against the door, his chest covering yours, his fingers kneading your flesh.

His mouth moved from yours, laying firm kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You tilted your head away from him, granting him permission to sink his teeth into the unblemished skin of your throat. You let out a soft keen as he sucked a mark into your neck, your eyes rolling back as his greedy hands grabbed your ass. Toji nipped and bit his way down your throat and across your shoulders, humming wickedly as you whined for more. He leaned back to give you a cocky grin, lust-blown eyes glued to your heaving chest. He slid his palms down your shoulders, lifting your jacket from your body and chucking it to one side. You paused, looking at each other. You, still in your bra and sweats, Toji in his t-shirt and jeans, his jacket long thrown aside. You pecked his lips and flashed him a smile, running your hands down over his chest, much like you had earlier at the club. But this time your hands wouldn’t dance away, avoid touching him as you had so craved.

You made short work of his belt, unbuckling it and loosening it from his narrow hips. You sank to your knees, eyes trained upwards to watch Toji’s reaction. He loomed over you, both arms stretched between his body and the doorframe, forming a bride far over your head. You popped the button of his jeans and unzipped his fly. Then, using his belt loops, tugged his pants down to his knees. You squeezed his thighs, making an appreciative noise in the back of your throat at the way the thick muscles shifted beneath your palm, the ripple echoing through his legs to his clothed cock, which twitched. You settled yourself more comfortably on the plush carpet below your knees and, wrapping an arm around one of Toji’s thighs, nuzzled your face against his cock. His response was immediate, a subtle buck of his hips as you gazed up at him, cheek pressed just beside his throbbing length. With your free hand, you palmed him through his briefs, the weight of him heavy in your hand. You hooked your fingers into the waist of his underwear and pulled them off, mouth involuntarily dropping open at the sight of him.

The entire time, Toji was silent, watching you through half-lidded eyes, his tongue occasionally running over his lips. Then, “You just gonna gawk at it or are you gonna suck my cock, sweetheart?” his hand came down to rest on the top of your head, his fingers gripping onto your hair. You gave him a dopey grin and stuck out your tongue, the tip just wetting the head of his cock. Toji hissed. You took his cock in your hand, fingers curled around his base. You braced your other arm against his thigh and, with a show of licking your lips, you lowered your mouth onto his length.

You licked lightly over the weeping tip, humming at the salt of his arousal, running your tongue around his head as you took him deeper. You pumped what you couldn’t fit with your hand, fingers gliding over the silken skin whilst you started to suck and bob your head on his cock. Toji let out a low string of curses, his hold in your hair tightening. But you carried on, flicking your tongue over his tip every time you pulled back off his length, sucking gently as you took him back in. You worked at him slowly, his cock gradually disappearing down your throat with each nod of your head. Eventually, your nose was brushing into the thick mass of dark hair at the base of his cock and your throat closed around him in a vice. You breathed out shakily through your nose, rubbing the underside of his cock with your tongue. You heard a guttural groan from above you and his hand held your head in place until you tapped his thigh for release.

You inhaled sharply as you rocked back onto your heels, tears forming at the edges of your lashes, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. You opened your mouth again, ready to take him back into the wet warmth of your throat, when the hand on your head cupped your jaw and tilted your face up to see him. “Up, doll,” Toji rumbled, “I’ll fuck your face another time, yeah?” he tucked his hands in your armpits and hauled you to your feet, smirking as you fell forward into his chest. He steadied you, lips lazily teasing the straps of your bra whilst you regained your balance. Once certain you were alright, a stinging slap landed across your ass.

“All of this,” Toji snapped the elastic of your bra onto your shoulder, “Get it off.” You blinked at him, eyes wide, the burn in your core roaring into flame. His eyes narrowed, looking you over in quiet observation. He curled his hand around your jaw, caging your face with his fingers and directing your gaze to his. “I’m not gonna ask twice, sweetheart,” his lips curved, “so you better fucking move.”

You stripped in the space of a heartbeat, peeling your joggers off with your underwear and unclasping your bra. Toji stepped out of his jeans and tucked his cock back into his underwear, pausing only to pull his shirt off over his head. Your breath hitched as you drank in the golden planes of his torso, the white constellation of scars splattered across his skin, the forest of dancing black ink that draped over his shoulders like a cloak. Your fingertips itched, craving to touch and trace the tattoos that you knew covered his back. You stood bare in front of Toji, your hands by your sides, your eyes level with his. Toji released a muted whistle. “Look at you,” he cooed, his stare devouring, “such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he glanced at the bed, at the floor-length mirror standing opposite it. Toji stalked towards you, backing you up until your calves hit the base of the bed.  He slung himself between you and the mattress, sitting down on the sheets and shifting back with his legs spread. Before you could even ask what he was doing, he’d picked you up by the waist and plopped you between his thighs, your back to his chest. He pulled your body flush to him and you shuddered at the warmth that flooded from his body to yours. He clamped his forearm across your abdomen, locking your hips in place as he directed your face to look forward.

You made eye contact with yourself, your cheeks flushing with heat at your reflection in the mirror opposite you. Toji craned over your shoulder, peering at you rather than your double, the scar on his lip twisting into a sly smile. “Tell me, doll,” he ran his knuckles down your cheek, correcting you when you tried to avert your eyes, “is your pussy as fucking pretty as you are, hah?” Your answer was incoherent, your mind dissolving into a soft haze shot through with burning embarrassment. Toji’s smile widened. “Can’t answer? That’s okay, sweetheart,” laughter laced his voice, his hands suddenly kneading and groping the inside of your thighs. “Why don’t I just see for myself, yeah?”

Toji hooked your legs over his, spreading your thighs to expose your cunt to the mirror, your folds glistening in the light of the room. You immediately tucked your head to one side, scrunching your eyes shut and wincing at the sight of yourself on full display. The chest behind you vibrated lowly as Toji mumbled something to himself, the velvet skin of your inner thighs tensing at the featherlight brush of his fingers. “So fucking wet for me, hah. Say, babygirl, you let any of those Zen’in fuckers near this pretty cunt?” You shook your head, whimpering when Toji pinched the soft flesh of your hip. He gave you a rapid slap over the exposed skin of your inner thigh, then rubbed his rough palm over it in soothing circles. “Answer me, doll. And if you fucking look away once more, there’ll be trouble, understand?” You nodded meekly, turning your head awkwardly to face yourself. Now, Toji watched you through the mirror, green eyes glimmering. “So, you let any Zen’ins fuck you?” You shook your head. “No, Toji.” Light sparked behind his eyes and he bared his teeth, pearly canines shining beneath tight lips. “Oh~?” he hummed, “so you’re only a whore for me? Is that what you’re saying?”  A single finger ghosted over your cunt, dipping through your folds to coat itself in your slick arousal. You flinched, the unexpected contact sending shivers down your legs. Toji licked up your neck, chuckling when you twitched at the cold air he blew over the wet skin. Whilst you writhed in his solid embrace, he entered you, his finger breaching your tight entrance with a strained squelch. You stiffened, walls immediately clamping down on his intruding digit, caught between rejecting and welcoming it into your liquid core. Toji pushed into you as you exhaled, his finger curling until your sigh tripped over itself. You watched as he smiled into your neck, his lips pressed against your throat, eyes glued to yours to ensure that you were still facing forward.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he hissed, “you’re so fucking tight,” Toji pumped his finger deep into your cunt, revelling in the way your body shuddered around him. You were so sensitive, every nerve ending in your body a livewire that sparked and flickered with Toji’s every move. You slowly relaxed into his hold, your weight fully leaning against his chest and your hips tilted up to receive his touch. As Toji coaxed your pussy with his finger, his thumb circled your clit, sending electric shivers through your core. His finger reached deep into your soaked velvet, whispering over the spot that had your back arching and legs tensing against him. “There, huh? That feel good, sweetheart?” He rubbed over the spot again, marvelling at how you trembled in his grasp. “Ye-es,” you strained, eyes barely open, “please, Toji,” you mumbled. “’Please’ what, doll? What does my pretty little whore want, hmm?” Toji teased at your nerves, his thumb barely touching your clit, his finger still in your clenching pussy. “More, please – fuck,” you huffed, willing your hips from bucking, “Please, more, Toji!”

His second finger ignited a scream from the depths of your chest, your entire body tensing as white heat tore through your veins. The stretch was scorching and your cunt pulsed around his fingers in protest. He pressed in further, thumb swiping quickly over your clit to distract you from the pain. But you loved it, a torrent of whines and obscenities trickling off your tongue, tears creeping past your lids to trail down your cheeks. You exhaled shakily, forcing your muscles to relax and allowing Toji to enter your fully. You moaned, dropping your head back onto his shoulder, blinking tearily at the ceiling for a brief moment before meeting your eyes once again in the mirror.

There you were, spreadeagled across Toji’s lap, chest heaving as he fucked your cunt open with his fingers. His eyes never left you, flickering from making heady eye contact to gazing at your pussy, entranced. The sound of his attentions filled your ears, the rhythmic slap of his palm meeting your wet folds and the suck of your cunt around his fingers surrounding you in a haze of static heat. He scissored you open with every alternate stroke, eventually slipping a third finger into your welcoming warmth. You mewled, throwing an arm behind you to grip the hair at the back of Toji’s neck, your other hand tangled in the sheets beside you. Your hips rocked forward to meet his fingers, the smoulder in your lower stomach burning into a flame.

“That’s it, babygirl,” Toji lay open-mouthed kisses over your shoulders, “fuck yourself on my fingers. Such a good little slut for me, hah?” His words only stoked the fire higher, and you felt yourself approaching your climax at lightning speed. “To- hah- Toji,” you panted, humping his hand like a bitch in heat, “Need to cum, please – hng – please, Toji, let me cum!” Tears rolled from your face and down your neck, which Toji promptly licked and sucked away hungrily. His fingers sped up, his thumb hardly leaving your clit as he built you to your orgasm. The hand that had been playing with your tits travelled upwards, his thick fingers trapping your jaw and holding your face in place. The pressure from his thumb increased and you came, fire flowing through you in a mighty roar of flame, engulfing you in heat. You shook around him, drenching his fingers as you watched yourself unravel.

Toji did not give you time to recover, the sight of you falling from reality finally pushing him over the edge of reason. He shuffled you fully onto the mattress, manhandling you into the perfect position, on your back with your knees to your chest. He directed himself above you, ridding himself of his boxers and kneeling on the bed. He swore softly, looking down at your quivering body. Your cunt still throbbed, empty and weeping, your thighs slick and shining. You gazed up at him, eyes teary, your mouth parted and face wet. He paused, memorising the sight of you splayed out beneath him, before you made a muted keen in the back of your throat. “You ready, doll?” You nodded weakly, tucking your hands under your knees to spread yourself further. Toji spat into his hand and rubbed his cock, then positioned the tip at your entrance.

He felt immaculate. He pushed into you at glacial speed after throwing your legs onto his shoulders, his thumb rolling and pinching your clit as he sank, inch by heavy inch, into your plush cunt. A long, throaty moan bubbled up through your chest when he bottomed out, filling you with his hot twitching cock. You had never felt so full, so satisfied, and from the groan that quaked through Toji’s chest, he had reached a similar state of nirvana. He folded himself over you, securing one hand to your hip and the other beside your head, pressing his weight into the mattress.

Then he moved. Toji fucked you with almost languid strokes, his hips rolling back until only his tip remained in your warmth, then rocking forward until you could feel him in your chest. His jaw was clenched, hard, his eyes unfocussed as he thrust into you, stretching your silky walls out over his cock. You wanted more. You examined him with bleary vision, urgently reading the granite of his expression, the flex of his muscles. You reached up, bravely skimming your hands along his torso, bringing his attention back to you. Dark pools ringed by only a sliver of green snapped to your gaze, and you noticed the tip of Toji’s tongue peeking out past his lips.

“Toji, please,” you begged, digging your nails into his shoulders. He hissed, his hips snapping into yours with a sudden thrust. You keened, and he frowned. “What do you want, sweetheart? My cock not enough?” his tone was low, dangerous. He stopped, hips flush to the back of your thighs, your cunt full but needy around his cock. “Want you to use me,” you murmured, squeezing his biceps. His brows lowered, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “Yeah? You wanna be my toy?” he leaned over you, engulfing your neck with his broad palm. You nodded, the slight press of his hand on your throat making you dizzy. Your pussy tightened on his cock as you fell further into your haze. Toji squeezed your jaw, forcing your glossy lips to part. You stuck out your tongue, drool slipping from the edge of your mouth. Toji’s nose scrunched, and his cock jolted deep in your cunt. He gathered together a glob of spit, entranced as it fell from his mouth to yours, landing on your tongue. You swallowed it down with a hum, eyes gazing up at him with unconcealed lust. “Thank you, Toji,” you mumbled, “please, wanna be your toy, wanna be used.”

His first thrust knocked all the air from your lungs. You choked out a whimper, anchoring yourself to Toji by clinging to his arms as he fucked you. He fucked you hard and fast, hips slamming into you at a pace that left you breathless. His teeth bared, and a low rumble tearing from his mouth, Toji rutted into like an animal, his back muscles rippling in waves as he plunged his cock into your cunt. He grabbed the backs of your legs from against his torso, pressing your knees flat against your heaving chest. Then, using you for leverage, Toji pistoned into you, the growls clawing past his lips barely decipherable. “That’s it, doll,” he grunted, “you gonna be my little toy? My fucking cumslut?” You babbled in response, his cock sparking static through your core, tingles flowing over you, filling you with fuzzy warmth. “Yes, Toji, ‘m your toy, your slut.”

You held your legs as he bent over you, he wound his fingers around your throat whilst he thumbed your clit, pushing you closer and closer towards your release. Your body began to shudder in anticipation, shocks of lightning twitching down your legs, the pressure in your stomach building. “My little whore gonna cum, hah? Do you wanna cum, sweetheart?” A litany of pleas and prayers toppled from your lips, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, your eyes imploring.

Toji pinched your clit and tightened his hold around your neck, his voice hoarse. “Then cum, babygirl,” he coaxed you until you fell, your pussy suffocating him as you trembled. You tumbled into near darkness, flashes of white bursting through your body, skin tingling and legs seizing. “Good girl,” Toji fucked you through your pleasure, teeth tight, “there’s my good fucking girl.” His hips stuttered, and his thrusts became erratic. “Where do you want me to cum, doll?” his tone was tense, an elastic about to snap. You melted around him, hands reaching cup to cup his face. “Inside, Toji, please,” you wept, “’m on the pill, please.”

Your cunt gave Toji no choice, clamping around him as he came, filling you with his thick, warm whiteness. His lips met yours in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth as he pumped his load deep into your pussy. He lay over you, panting, chest against yours, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips. You came down together, his forehead tucked in your neck, his lips absently sucking and nipping at your skin whilst you stroked your fingers through his hair.

Eventually, he pulled away, rolling onto his back with a groan. Your head fell sideways, watching him, wondering. What now? …

You woke to the ache of your muscles, your thighs and back weeping from the pain waltzing through your nerves. You groaned, absently patting the sheets for your bedpartner. The sheets were cold. You blinked your eyes open, unsurprised at the late morning sun that danced through the blinds. You were alone. An uneasy sadness settled in your stomach. What did you expect? Of course, you would wake up alone. You were a one night stand, a quick fuck, just another girl to fall into Toji’s bed.

But he hadn’t treated you like that. Not last night. Not after he’d fucked you so hard you couldn’t walk. He’d shocked you, transforming from a snarling wolf to a loving pup, carrying you into the bathroom to wash you down, ordering you something to eat, and then pulling you to lie on top of his chest, holding you until you both fell asleep. But now, he was gone.

You rolled onto your stomach and winced. Ouch.

A white card lay on the bedside table, a glass of water standing solemnly beside it. You squinted at the card, flipping it over and reading the untidy scrawl.

Had a meeting. Told staff not to disturb you.

Well, that explained where he’d gone, and why a gaggle of grumpy maids weren’t chasing you out of a hotel that was clearly outside your budget. You stretched over the soft cotton. There was a phone number, the area code for the next district over.

Owner is Kento Nanami. If he gives you trouble use the words ‘HEAVENLY RESTRICTION’

Fuck, Toji’s handwriting was appalling, his letters all bleeding together to form one nearly incoherent scribble. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and blinked. At the bottom, scratching through the hotel’s logo was the following:

Was good doing business with you.

See you next time,

T.

You hummed and took a sip of your water, tracing the second number on the card with your thumb. A cell number. You read over the note again, reminding yourself to call ‘Kento Nanami’ as soon as you were home. You smiled at the last sentence.

Next time, huh?

Toji’s sweeties: @vabybizzle @fuwushiguro​ @203steph​ 

“Hold on, hold on, woman,” Toji wrapped a wide hand over your shoulder and pushed you back onto your stool, “you’re really gonna go out like that?” “Jesus, old man, the dress isn’t too short – most wear even less out. Now, are you gonna let me go and get laid, or are you gonna stop me? Cos you better have a damn good reason for getting between me and forgetting this fucking day,” you huffed, and froze when Toji reached out to wipe his thumb over your cheek. “Cos you’re still crying, dumbass. I dunno about other guys, but the only time I like to see a girl cry during sex is when she’s begging for my dick, and that definitely isn’t what’s got you sobbing like a kid. Come on. Flat’s close, and I got a bottle of decent drink.” Toji peeled a couple of notes from his pocket and slid it under your glass, effectively paying for both of your drinks then standing up to leave.

He held out a hand, giving you a hard stare when you hesitated to take it. Finally, you slipped your palm into his, accepting his offer and getting off your stool. Toji saluted to the barkeep, who seemed to know him. Strange. You hadn’t been here with him. But then again, the pair of you often went drinking in the same neighbourhood as your flat, the night ending with Toji taking over the couch and you crashing into bed. Not drunk. Never drunk. Just tired. Of fighting. Of jujutsu. Of the world in general.

Tonight you were more than tired with the world. You were the closest you’d been to heartbreak since your dad had passed, the terrified eyes of those kids flickering behind your eyes every time you closed them. You paused at the narrow entrance to the bar, stretching out your arms and ribcage as you drank in the night air. You breathed deeply, and the confines of your dress refused to help fill your lungs with the stench of beer and piss, the stink of motorbike fumes and cigarette smoke. A weight blanketed your shoulders. His jacket. You fingered the worn denim of the old jacket, asking Toji what his game was out the corner of your eyes. He shrugged and you wrapped the jacket around yourself. You couldn’t even see the end of your dress, the hem creeping up the curve of your ass as you walked. You were glad you’d chosen low heels for the mission, else by now you’d be asking Toji to carry you. You weren’t in the mood for that kind of teasing tonight. You weren’t in the mood for anything.

The pair of you walked in time down the main street of Toji’s district, the world between you silent except for the hum of the city around you. Until, “You know the code, pest.” “You only save when it pays. I know your code, Fushiguro,” you grumped. Toji clicked his tongue at you, “It’s code cos it works. You can’t get attached to the job. No feelings, no screwups.” “No morals,” you hissed below your breath. Your back stopped mere millimetres from the brick wall beside you, strong hands gripping your shoulders and Toji’s face just a breath away from yours. Green eyes glared you down, Toji’s massive frame dwarfing you in his anger. “Listen, pest. You chose the job, you chose this life. The blood, the killing, all of it. Or did you think it was just exorcisms and sniper-hits, nobody’s life in those bloody little hands of yours?” Toji growled, teeth clenched. His knuckles were white with how tightly he held you. You shook your head, “Fuck off, old man. You know that I’m as serious as you are. Forgive me for actually being fucking human for once,” you spat back, face crumpled. You could actually feel your tears flow now, hot and heavy down your cheeks, dragging your mascara down in black streaks, your lips twisted, “I’m just grateful I still have fucking emotions, unlike you.” The words felt like pure poison, darts lodging themselves deep into Fushiguro’s skin. “What did you say, woman? You think I don’t have emotions?” “Well besides rage, you’re pretty fucking heartless, Fushiguro. How many people did we see die today? A hundred? Two hundred? All of them below twenty-five, they were just fucking kids, and we just let it happen, and you pull the code on me?!” You almost breathed fire at this point, your lip curled in an ugly sneer as you yelled through your tears. Toji’s chest rose and fell in heavy gasps, and you watched his face tighten as you spoke. “Heartless? Fucking heartless? Then what do you call this, sweetheart?” he grabbed your hand and placed it palm down on his chest, over his heart. Your fingers tremored at the thud of blood pulsing through the organ, his heartbeat hard and fast and frantic, “I use the code because what else can I do, huh? Fuck,” he stepped away from you and pinched the bridge of his nose, “most of those kids were your age, and yeah, we had to fucking walk away. The job wasn’t to save them, but don’t think it wasn’t one of the worst seconds of my life when I had to choose – our lives, or theirs.” He walked a few paces down, watching as you crouched around yourself. “Thank you,” you mumbled, half to the sidewalk. Toji flinched, “Hah?” You laid your head on your knees and looked at him, “I said ‘thank you.’ You saved us back then. I owe you my life, again.” You blew at a stray piece of hair. “Yeah, yeah. Now we’re even from that fuck-up in Kyoto,” Toji tucked his hands into his pockets before scowling at you, “But that isn’t the point, sweetheart. The point is today was a goddamn disaster. Nearly Plasma fucking Star level disaster. And it’s okay to get angry. Hell, I think it’s better. But you aren’t angry, are you?” he leaned against a sputtering streetlamp, an Adonis in the buttery light, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, jaw and collarbones catching the glow. You shook your head, eyes glued to the concrete. “Yeah, you don’t cry like that when you’re mad. You get all hissy, like a pissed off street cat.” You snapped your gaze upwards, glaring at Toji as he smirked at you, his scar quirked upwards with the curl of his lips. Sometimes you hated how well he knew you.

“And what am I supposed to do when one of us is down, huh? I can’t run like I used to, I gotta stick around, make sure you don’t end up sobbing in a bar like a suit going through his second divorce,” he teased, but you tilted your head and squinted at him. “Sure you can, Fushiguro. Nothing’s stopping you from finding a lay for the night, or some poor sucker to scam. You don’t need to worry about me,” you waved your hand at him, as if shooing him off, “I’m a big girl. Let me cry into my cups and then go get my insides rearranged, thanks.” “I’m stopping myself, pest, cos I gotta stop you from making the same shitty mistakes I made.” “I’m on the pill and carry condoms, Fushiguro, so the only mistakes I can make are accounted for.” You rose to your feet, thoroughly ready to end the conversation, throw Toji’s jacket at him and get the hell out of there. God, you were tired. And sad. And growing steadily more and more irritated with the man standing between you and a decent fuck. “And what about the sex, sweetheart?” That caught you off guard. You peered at Toji, “Eh? What about it?” “Chances are, you aren’t gonna get a decent fuck tonight, doll,” Toji shrugged, pushing himself off the streetlight, the pole groaning in relief. You squinted at him, and he continued, counting on those long, thick fingers of his, “one, it’s a weeknight, so your crowd’s already thin. Two, it’s only, what? Nine? Most people aren’t even out yet, and if they are, they’ve been drinking since lunch – unless you like them that wasted?” he raised an eyebrow at you and you gave him a withering stare, “three, you can never guarantee that a stranger is gonna be a good lay,” he held his hands out, his case closed. You huffed. “So? Maybe I don’t get a good fuck, it isn’t your problem, or your business,” you began to shrug his jacket from your shoulders, only for Toji to cage you between the wall and fortress of his torso, one arm barring your way as he leaned over you. You were about to quip about Toji being too old for kabedon to work, but something in his heavy-lidded eyes kept you silent, heartrate increasing,

“Well, sweetheart, I’m making it my business. And therefore, you getting a good fuck is my problem,” he hissed, the scar on his lip was drawn tight by the pressed line of his lips, you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’d once joked that Toji had cursed energy, but only to make women crazy for him, and your claim wasn’t unfounded. This close, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your cheekbones, taste the scent of whiskey and cheap deodorant and the musk of his sweat, could see each long, dark lash as he lazily blinked over burning eyes, this was too close. You lifted your hands to hold between the two of you, and ended up with your palms on his chest. His heart beat against your hand, hard and steady. Nothing like the heavy rush of blood in your ears that filled your head as you stared at him.

You took pride in being the only one who could read him, who knew what each iteration of his scowl meant, what a twitch of his scar meant, what that deadly smirk of his meant. His smirk was that of a predator who’d found his prey, and although you’d seen it too many times to count, you had never been its subject. His prey. Until now. Backlit by the streetlamp, Toji bore a saint’s halo, but his eyes were that of a much darker beast. You sucked in a breath, brain fuzzy and vision blinded.

“Then solve my problem, old man,” you murmured, throwing out your challenge with your inhibitions. This would be a problem for later, not now, not when Toji’s presence surrounded you in a haze, not when those deeply buried desires had erupted into your stomach in a flood of heat and gooseflesh. Toji raised a brow, smirk widening to a smile that flashed his teeth in the dark. His body was tense beneath your palm, hesitant as he inched his face closer to yours. His eyes never left yours, even as his tongue ran over his lips. He was stalling, giving you a chance to run, to leave him, to retreat to your home for the night and pretend that he’d never offered to fuck you into oblivion.

You kissed him. A soft brush of your lips against his, your eyes half-closed as you watched his reaction. Your back collided into the wall behind you, arching away from the cold and into the warmth of his chest as his hand dropped to your hip. He devoured you with one kiss, his lips pressed hard and hot on yours, a low rumble dying in his throat. Toji took control of your mouth, messily kissing you with a languid flow to his lips. You couldn’t help the small whine from spilling between your lips, and you slid your hands up Toji’s chest to grip onto the hair at the back of his neck.

The hand at your hip shifted to the small of your back, his warm palm spread wide and his thick fingers splayed over your dress, under his jacket. With a grunt, Toji pulled your body flush to his, and with your gasp, pushed his tongue past your lips. Fuck, he tasted good. You had expected cheap whisky and nicotine, but something about him, about the way his tongue moved against yours, licking and sucking, had you moaning softly into his kiss. Shivers rippled down your spine and Toji bit your lower lip gently. You tightened your hold on his hair and pushed your lips firmly against him, giving him a bite yourself, harder and faster than he had so delicately treated you. Giving him permission to give you more, asking for more. His other hand cradled your head as Toji shoved you roughly into the wall, his muscled body pinning you to the wall as he leaned himself fully into you. His kisses grew harsh, all teeth and tongue, causing your lips to swell and little whimpers and curses to fall from your mouth.

Now you knew why all those women kept crawling back to him. Even his kisses were addictive, pure sin in sloppy licks and open-mouthed bites. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around his tongue and your hips pushed against him. Toji pulled back then, smirk still plastered across his face, but you could see how wide his pupils had blown, could feel how his breathing had grown shallow. Toji shoved his knee between your legs and lowered the hand at your back to your ass. He began to lay hot, wet kisses along your jaw, and you tilted your head to give him better access to the soft, unclaimed skin of your neck. He grabbed at your ass, fingers digging into the flesh and causing your hips to rock against the thigh between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed as the friction sent flares blazing in your abdomen. Toji bit your neck then, sucking the skin dark before sliding his thigh between your legs again, chuckling darkly as the denim of his jeans caught your clit in a burst of tingling heat. You threw your head back, gasping. “Desperate little whore, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Toji hummed into your skin, “So needy, to think you’d fuck yourself on my leg like a bitch in heat.” You coloured, and forced your body still. Only to jump when Toji’s palm slapped across your ass, “I don’t remember telling you to stop, sweetheart,” his hand clamped your hip, and dragged your heat down his leg. The sound that left you was primal, from deep in your chest, a desperate keening as your thin underwear became soaked. “That’s it, pretty thing, fuck yourself on me. Hump me like a good little slut,” Toji commanded, guiding you to rock yourself against him once more. He released you, and you kept at it, your eyes rolling back as you ground your needy cunt onto the thick muscle of Toji’s thigh. He smirked and returned to your neck, sucking and biting your sensitive skin until you were covered in a constellation of darkened marks. You lost yourself to the feeling of his body against you, of the burning in your core, of his hungry lips of your skin.

The hand at your ass slid down your leg, and Toji lifted your thigh to hitch it on his lips. He ground his pelvis against your core, and you moaned at the rub of his clothed cock over your drenched cunt. Toji swallowed down your sounds, lowering his mouth back on yours, smiling against your lips when you whimpered. Calloused fingers trickled along your inner thigh, occasionally pinching and kneading the meat of your leg, all while your pussy clenched in anticipation. You screwed your eyes shut, breath heaving from your lungs. Your heart stopped when he brushed his knuckles over your clothed cunt. “Fuck, doll, so wet from a little tongue action? How long has it been since someone touched you?” Toji tilted his head, grinning, teasing. You balked, blinking rapidly as last week’s piss-poor hook-up flashing across your vision. Toji caught your hesitance, “Scratch that, how long has it been since someone touched you properly?” “Two,” you mumbled, looking away. “Two what? Days? Weeks? Months?” you kept quiet, Toji’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe, “Years?” You nodded. “Jesus, woman. No wonder you’re so fucking tense all the time.” With that, Toji shifted his grip to hold your leg higher and tighter against him and slipped a finger under the hem of your underwear. “Holy shit, old man! What are you doing?” You yelped, just as he ran his finger through your soaked folds. Toji hissed at your warmth, at the wet heat that covered his digit in pure arousal. “I’m touching you properly, pest, and you better believe I’m gonna fuck you properly too,” he kissed you and pushed his finger into your pussy. He groaned at the tight hold of your velvet cunt, at the arousal that dribbled down his finger and onto his hand. “But-!” he shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth. “Ssh, doll. Don’t want anyone to hear you, do we? Don’t want people to see you fucking my hand like a needy whore, do you?” you nodded, mouth full, “good, then suck my fingers, slut.”

Toji slowly pumped his finger deeper into your cunt and you whined around his fingers. God, you knew it had been long, but with just a finger, Toji had your core tightening and head spinning. He picked up the pace, and with each plunge he reached deep into your pussy, feeling for the spot that would have you collapsing around him. He knew he’d found it when you choked on his digits and your knee buckled, swaying your body into him and his finger deeper into your cunt. “Good girl, that’s the spot, hmm? That feel good, sweetheart?” you nodded desperately, spit dribbling from your lips as Toji’s thick fingers filled your mouth. He pulled his finger from your pussy, and the muffled whine you let out had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Toji chuckled, “Relax, babygirl, I’ve got you,” he took his fingers out your mouth, and closed it with a tap to your chin and an index finger perpendicular to the seam of your lips to shush you. Gently, he ran his hands along your thighs and beneath the hem of your dress, rucking up the fabric up until your soaked underwear was exposed to the world. Toji paused for a second, thumbs tracing the fragile lace hugging your hips.

Then he ripped off your panties. With a tear to each seam at your hips, the lacy garment stuck to your pussy from your arousal alone. Toji peeled it from your cunt, rolled it up and shoved the small lace scrap into the back pocket of his jeans. He winked at you, and plunged two fingers into your pussy. The sound alone made his cock twitch, the thick squelch of your arousal filling the silence of the night, the wet of your cunt covering his hand in shimmering slick as he noisily fucked you with his fingers. Your moans became muffled as you bit down on the sleeve of his jacket, eyes teary and face flushed. God, what he would do to capture this moment. You, drowning in his jacket, your little hand desperately attempting to hold back the needy sounds you were making. Your tight, wet cunt, bare and glistening in the night, barely taking two of his fingers. Your eyes were glassy, focus skyward as you avoided looking down at the sight of you fucking Toji’s hand. “Look at you, fucking my fingers in public like a whore. Tell me, doll, do you flash your pretty little cunt at anyone, or am I the first to make you this needy?” Toji teased into your neck, circling your clit with his thumb and grinning when he felt your hips buck into his hand. You shook your head, eyes scrunched shut. “Hah? Use your words, babygirl? Have you done this shit in public before, or just with me?” Toji pressed deep into your pussy, pushing hard on your clit at the same time. You moaned, rolling your hips onto his fingers, chasing your high, but Toji began to retract when you didn’t answer. “No – hah – just you, Fushiguro – just you,” you babbled through the hand over your mouth, and Toji’s smile grew sly. “Really?” you nodded, rutting yourself onto him, “well then, I guess I gotta reward you for being such a brave little slut, for exposing your pretty pussy for me where anybody could see you,” Toji increased his speed, the flick of his wrist purposeful as he crooked his fingers into your spot each time he pumped into your cunt, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit. You began to tremble, the building tension in your core finally reaching its limit and pushing beyond it. Electric shocks ran through your body, your skin shivering into gooseflesh and the moans from your mouth loud and unfiltered.

“Come now, sweetheart, cum for me.” You snapped, your head rocking back against the cold wall behind you as galaxies burst behind your eyes. You gushed onto Toji’s hand, your cunt clamping his fingers deep in your fluttering heat. He pulled you to collapse against him, holding you up as your legs gave way and your arms fell limp around him. “Holy shit,” you panted, gasping for air whilst your body tremored. Toji slowly pulled his fingers from you with a wet schlock, and naturally, you opened your mouth to lick yourself off him. However, Toji sucked your cum from his hand, maintaining eye-contact with your fucked-out gaze as he licked each long digit. As he finished, his eyes fluttered closed, and you felt a groan build deep in his chest. You still leaned heavily against his broad chest, but tentatively put your weight back onto your feet. Your legs wobbled, but you stayed upright, and you quickly pulled you dress down to cover yourself, cheeks burning. You stepped back out of Toji’s hold, one hand on the wall as you regained balance.

“What’re you doing?” Toji grabbed your arm and spun you back so that his chest was at your back. His breath was hot on your ear. “Cleaning up?” you looked over your shoulder at him. “Why bother, I’m just gonna make a bigger mess of you at the flat,” Toji hummed and you humphed, “Well we’re not at the flat yet, are we?” Toji gripped your hand in his, nearly toppling you over as he tugged you along the street, “Good point. Don’t want anyone else to see you when you cum on my cock. Move it, pest.”

…

Toji’s keys were left hanging in the locked door as the pair of you fumbled into the flat, your back once again flush against the wall, dominated by Toji’s large hands and intoxicating tongue. He pinched your nipples through the fabric of your dress, jaw dropping from your kiss as you finally released the sounds you’d stifled back in the alley. “Holy shit, doll. You really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he smirked, leaning back as his hips pinned you to the wall. His rough fingertips ran over the skin just above the neckline of your dress, thumbs pressing into the fresh marks he’d made on your flesh. You hissed out in a series of small whines at the pain, your hips rolling against him, your cunt desperate and empty. Toji watched you react to his touch through half-closed eyes, his tongue running along his lips. His fingers whispered beneath the straps of your dress, pulling them over your shoulders. You looked up at him, all wet eyes and flushed cheeks, your lips slightly parted and gasping.

Toji pulled the front of your dress down, freeing your breasts and immediately grabbing your wrists as you moved to cover yourself. He paused, releasing your hands, then reached out to brush a calloused thumb over your pebbling nipple. You whimpered, and arched into the cup of his palm as he held you. “Fuck, sweetheart. Such pretty tits, hmm? You been hiding these from me,” He leaned down and rasped into your ear, “is your pussy just as pretty? You the whole deal?” He wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs and you jumped up to wrap your legs around him. Immediately, his mouth was over your tit, his tongue swirling circles around your nipple, his teeth grazing over its peak. You pressed your chest to his face, and laced your fingers through his inky hair. Toji made eye contact as he released your tit with a wet pop, his green eyes never leaving yours as he kissed across your sternum to your other breast. He bit down into the flesh, his own groan vibrating through you as you moaned and bucked your hips against him.

“Fushiguro, please,” you whined, “just fuck me already!” He paused, looking up at you, the glint in his eyes enough to send a shiver through your body. Devouring. Hungry. He slid his hands below your suspended ass, mouth releasing your tit with a string of saliva that he licked up into your neck. You held yourself up with your thighs and your arms slung around his neck, heart rate gearing up to a terrifying speed as you waited with bated breath. Toji made quick work of his belt and the zip of his jeans, letting them fall to his knees as he freed his cock from his briefs. With one hand to guide him and the other steadying you against the wall, he ran his cockhead through your sopping folds.

He paused then, his tip twitching against your clit, appraising you from beneath long lashes and lowered brows. He gave your cunt a preliminary thrust with two fingers, scissoring your tight pussy open, but not far enough. You began to writhe against him, empty cunt desperate for him, for the fullness you knew he would bring. “Please, Fushiguro,” you breathed, small tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. You’d never been so needy in your whole life. Every fibre, every nerve, every muscle, all of it craved him, craved his touch, his kiss, his cock. “Alright, alright, relax, sweetheart,” he muttered, guiding his cock to your entrance, “I’ve got you,” he reassured, slowly lowering your hips over his cockhead.

The stretch was unbelievable, your cunt already straining to take his girth and head as you threw your head back, eyes rolling. You cursed, dragging out the profanity in a howl, and your cunt clenched around his tip. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop his hips snapping up into your heat, couldn’t help bottoming out in one thrust to your velvet wetness. The noise you made fell out in a choked cry, your thighs already twitching in their hold around his torso. “Fu-uck,” Toji groaned, the loudest noise you’d heard him make the whole night. His teeth hissed across your collarbones, nipping and licking as you adjusted to the stretch of your pussy around his length.

But you didn’t want to wait, or adjust. You pulled your hips from him, and rolled your stinging cunt back over his cock. “Damn, you really want to be fucked like a whore, hah? Wanna ride my cock like my little toy, hmm, babygirl?” he rumbled, securing his grip on your hips before giving you a hard pump. “Yes – fuck – please – Fushi-guro,” you sputtered out, your back jolting into the wall with each driving thrust, too drunk on the burning in your core to care about the pain. “It’s Toji, sweetheart – Hah – don’t try be professional when I’ve got my cock this deep in your cunt – Fuck!” Toji grumbled, keeping as steady a rhythm as he could, the muscles of his back and arms rippling in waves as he moved into you. You nodded weakly, too deep in the haze of your pleasure, each thrust hitting your centre, your walls stuffed to a fullness so good you could cry. Or cry more than you already were, sloppy sobs bubbling from your lips as Toji fucked you, an incoherent babble of his name, curses, and moans.

Eventually Toji pulled you off the wall, your hands scrambling to get a steady purchase on his shoulders, your fingers wound into the tight fabric of his Henley. Leaning back, knees bent, Toji lifted and dropped you onto his cock, plunging in even deeper as he pistonned into you. His hips increased speed, until you were bouncing on him, your head lolling back as your body became jelly. Your tits smacked onto your chest, and the sound of your gushing cunt nearly overpowered your whines and cries. Toji glanced down, nearly cumming at the sight of his cock splitting your pussy, your entrance straining to take him, yet your walls so desperate to keep him. He looked up, to your teary, glossy eyes, open mouth, your dishevelled hair. You were the whole deal. His whole deal.

Before he could lose himself in the consequences of his current actions, your cunt clamped down on him and your body began to shake. “Need to, gonna, cum,” you panted, “Toji, need to cum!” He sped up further, thrusting harder and deeper into your spasming cunt until you came with a cry. Your eyes rolled back, Toji’s name dribbling from your lips as electricity buzzed through your core. You went limp, your forehead dropping to his shoulder, still clutching onto him. “Good girl,” Toji gravelled, slipping from you, still hard. You whimpered at the loss of him, your empty pussy dripping onto his hips and thighs. Toji lowered you to a threadbare couch, before stepping out of his jeans and underwear. He pulled his shirt over his head as he approached you, tossing the dark garment onto the cushions behind you before gathering you in his arms and walking through his tiny flat.

He kissed you roughly and threw you onto his unmade bed, surrounding you in the scent of him, his musk. He clambered over you, his hands running over your body as he looked for the zipper to your dress. You lifted an arm, trembling fingers useless as you tried to undo it. Toji smacked your hands away, leaned in and gave the zip a tug. It broke halfway, and with several muttered curses, Toji manhandled you out of the piece of clothing. You became splayed out on your back, bare to him, flushed and panting. He paused, as if committing the image to memory.

You were flipped onto your stomach, and you immediately pulled your wobbly legs up, arching your back perfectly, dazed eyes watching as Toji lined himself up behind you. His grunts and muffled groans were indecipherable as he re-entered you, your cunt still tight around him, walls still struggling to adjust to his thickness. You moaned, mouth muffled by your shoulder. He slapped your ass cheek, sending stinging heat and pain down your spine. “Eyes forward, doll,” he drove into you, nearly knocking you from your forearms, the smack of his balls against your clit creating ripples of static in your core. He wrapped his palms around your hips, his fingers deep in your flesh. You could feel the tissue bruise, and arched into it, revelling in the harsh way he pulled you back onto him, the way he slammed his pelvis into you.

Your head dropped forward, hands knotted in his sheets, letting him use your body, letting your mind drift into a haze of heat. Suddenly, you were yanked upward by your hair, thick fingers wrapped into the strands as Toji pulled you into his chest. You began to shudder, his cock hitting your centre, stars bursting behind your eyelids. Toji must have felt the convulsions of your cunt, as he drove into you harder, the hand in your hair winding down to pinch and twist at your clit. “You gonna cum again, hah? Gonna cum like a good little whore?” he hissed through clenched teeth. And with a deep thrust and harsh pinch of your clit you came, your body tensing and releasing in a shivering wave of heat and pleasure, your voice ringing out Toji’s name. He shoved you forward onto the mattress, his own pace quickening as he fucked you through your high, your face buried in the bed as he thrust into you. He came with a loud grunt in your ear, his arm wrapped warmly across your chest as he pumped his hot cum inside your clenching cunt.

“There’s a good girl, take it all,” he grabbed your face and pulled you into a messy kiss, his cock still twitching in your heat. Then he was gone, pulling out from you and letting you fall into the mattress. He rolled you onto your back, laying one final deep kiss across your lips before leaving the room. You fell back to earth with a thud, legs still echoing from your orgasms, Toji’s cum from your cunt onto the sheets, your eyes glued to the ceiling.

You waited until she was long out of earshot, before folding over yourself and groaning loudly into the empty dressing room. “Yikes, you better not be contagious,” Mai teased as she swanned in, her fine features already adorned with makeup, her lips painted a vicious shade of red. “Too late, I’m afraid. You’re already infected. You were a terrible person long before you met me, Mai. Maybe you’re the contagious one,” you ducked, narrowly avoiding the hairbrush your co-worker had sent hurtling in your direction. “What did you do now? You better not be injured. Last time was a nightmare. Not cute,” Momo moaned, dumping her bags and hanging up her outfits for the evening. You winced. “Well it’s more about what I didn’t do, this time. And I’m leaving after my first dance, sorry,” you peeled yourself from the floor and gave your limbs a couple of extra swings before turning to your dressing-table. Your co-workers were all looking at you, a glitter behind their gazes that you hated. Nobara gave you a Cheshire grin, “Oh, your benefactor must be back,” her smirk sent shivers of disgust down your spine. You felt gross. You sighed, and refused to answer. You threw a jersey over your tank and sweats, breathing in Toji’s faded scent on the collar as you huddled into the knit. Laughter followed you into the bar, the girls and their jeers still ricocheting around your ribs as you scanned the room for one of your bosses. You spotted Mei at a far corner of the bar, talking to the bartender and one of the regulars. Perfect.

You scuttled across the room, pressing yourself into gaps and nooks as the waitresses dashed out with the night’s first round. You greeted Miwa with a steadying hand to her tray before ducking away from familiar eyes. You knew almost everyone here. And, of course, nearly everyone at the bar knew you. Their star dancer. Nobody’s darling, because everybody wanted you.

You finally burst to the surface beside your boss, gasping for breath as you slipped from the crowd gathered around the bar. “Oh, hello?” Mei shifted to greet you, a glass of red in her hand, already half-gone, “you aren’t one to leave backstage, what’s up?” You greeted her and her talking-partner, Tsukumo Yuki, before politely asking, “May I leave after my first shift?” “Again?” Mei Mei’s memory was atrocious, unless you owed her work, then she had a memory better than an elephant. “That was two months ago, and I made you double in return.” Mei sighed, “That’s true, but I don’t like it. How many times has it been now?” You shrugged. You tried not to remember the number of Toji’s visits, and the subsequent number of nights you’d kicked Tsumiki out the flat. “I’ll work all the spare shifts too,” you bargained. It was more than what you needed to get Tsumiki and yourself through the month, but the extra money wouldn’t go to waste. “Ooh, you’re bold. What’s got you so desperate to have the rest of the night off, lady-love?” Yuki cooed, leaning forward into your face. You kept your face still, used to the woman’s tricks by now. What you weren’t expecting was the warm weight that slithered across your shoulders, and the sneering voice, “Our sweetheart’s sugar daddy is in town, and she’s got to earn that cash, right?” You smacked Mai’s pinching fingers away from your cheek, ignoring the curious looks both Mei and Yuki gave you. “I have personal business to attend to. Do we have a deal?” Mei gave you a close-lipped smile and extended her hand, “You get off after your first shift. Take tomorrow too. Make sure all your ‘personal business’ is dealt with, yes?” Mei’s eyes gleamed in the low light, “And I’ll put you in for those extra shifts.” You took her hand, “Do I need to talk to Nanami too?” Mei shook her head, “Text him after you’ve left. It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than get permission from that man.” And with a firm shake, your deal was struck. In a blink of an eye, you’d excused yourself, and ignoring Mai’s lingering hands and eyes, you snaked along the edge of the bar, waving slightly to gain the bartender’s attention.

“Two shots of vodka, no chaser, please,” you ordered, fishing out a flurry of notes from your bra and slamming it down on the countertop before Todo could even protest. The giant reluctantly poured out your poison and slid the glasses to you, taking your money with a frown low on his scarred brow. You threw back the first shot as the glass touched your fingertips, grimacing as the gasoline burned down your throat. You needed to focus, now was not the time to be fretting over Toji, your relationship with his children, or how your co-workers were trying to frame you as a sex-worker in front of your superiors. You needed to relax. Clear your head. Focus on tonight’s new routine.

“Jesus, does Mai annoy you that much?” A soft voice to your left broke your post-shot stream of thought, and you turned, only to find yourself face to face with the one other person you’d rather die than see tonight. Megumi. You put on an airy chuckle, “No, no. Just pre-show jitters, that’s all.”  Megumi looked at you through full lashes and gentle green eyes. His eyes. Yet not. Not entirely. “I won’t tell if it is Mai, it can be our secret,” he gives you a curve of his lips, a faint echo of Tsumiki’s beaming smile. “Don’t you think enough people drink because of Mai? Thanks, but I’ll pass on joining that statistic,” you took a short sip of the second shot, openly displaying your disgust. Megumi laughed, and leaned back from his drink. Whiskey and soda. The same. Long, lithe fingers danced along your shoulders, squeezing you into Megumi’s side as people at the bar jostled against you. “You nervous about the routine?” he murmured in your ear, fingertips idly drawing circles over your jersey. You shrugged, “Yes. No. I don’t know. Did ‘Miki tell you?” Megumi nodded and you sighed, “It was meant to be a secret. Now everyone’s gonna have expectations,” you glanced over the arm on your shoulder to examine the crowd. There were more people than usual. All the regulars were here. Both Gojo and Getou’s gangs were here. You wondered if he was somewhere here, nestled in the shadows, no sign of his presence save for the occasional flare of a cigarette. “I didn’t tell a soul, promise. But Yuuji-“ Megumi glanced to the corner where his people were seated, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was such a big deal.” You patted his cheek, “It’s okay, ‘Gumi. It isn’t your fault. And it really isn’t such a big deal, I’m just…” you trailed off, trying to pinpoint the sinking unease in your chest, “I’m just stressed,” you concluded. You drank down the remainder of your shot, Megumi watching you intently. “Has it got to do with your sugar daddy?” If there had still been vodka in your throat you would have choked. Instead you coughed heavily, and wheezed, “You heard that?” Megumi nodded. You swore. “Why? What’s wrong? Is there any way I can help?” the questions flew out of Megumi’s mouth like bullets, and all of them missed. You shook your head, “Relax, ‘Gumi. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that if Mai and the others keep going around telling people that I have a ‘sugar daddy,’ sooner or later Nanami is going to hear. And then I’m screwed,” you huffed. Megumi looked blank. “The dancers are forbidden from performing sex-work. It distracts us and makes business complicated.” “Oh,” Megumi paused to think, “but then how did the girls come up with this?” You sighed again and leaned your head back onto Megumi’s arm. “Because I made the mistake of mentioning that someone had given me money a couple of months ago, and now they won’t shut up about ‘my mysterious benefactor and the horrible things he makes me do for money,’” you air-quoted dramatically around the last half of your sentence. Megumi straightened up, “Then there is someone? Who pays you?” You shook your head, “He doesn’t pay me for sex, and we don’t have a sugar-baby/sugar-daddy kind of relationship. He just,” you shrugged slightly, “he just sends me money if I need it, especially if its for my studies, you know?” “But you still sleep with him.” Megumi’s tone was hard. “Yeah?” you tilted your head to look at him, “but not because he gives me money. I sleep with him because I like him.” Megumi’s face was growing hard, his jaw clenching and his brows tight.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and a single circle of gold fell upon Mei, who stood on a small stage in the corner of the room. The dances were about to begin. “I’ve got to go,” you began untangling yourself from Megumi, “and hey, don’t worry about me. Focus on your studies, and your sister!” you pecked him lightly on the cheek and dashed through the crowd, nearly colliding with Momo as she went up for the first dance.

…

They were cheering long before you took your first heeled step onto the stage. They knew the order the dancers performed in, they knew that after the storm Mai brought to the stage, your smooth, liquid movements would soothe the heated spirits of the bar. Tonight, however, they were in for a surprise.

As the first smoky notes of the old blues track filled the room, the crowd grew quiet, the regulars’ eyes wide as you sauntered to centre stage, Toji’s old biking jacket hanging off your shoulders and past the hem of your skirt. You wore pastel lace and frilled cotton. Not shining black harnesses and tight leather. The crowd mumbled, and you began your routine. Slowly, loosely, you let the raw notes of the guitar and heavy bass take over your body. This was your dance. The way you danced when you were alone. When you were with him. When you missed him.

Back facing the crowd, you let the jacket fall from your body, hips rolling as you tossed it off the stage. You’d painstakingly undone the patchwork at the back the night before, erasing all sign of Toji’s old gang signs and markings. You weren’t going to start a gang war over a jacket, thank you.

The dance went smoothly, bar a few frustrating moments when Gojo would just not let go when you visited his table, and the startling moment when Getou had given you far too much money for your lingerie to hold up. You ended with a teasing toss of your bra into the crowd, flicking your head, winking, and then disappearing backstage.

Perfect. There was a beat of silence as your track ended. Then, they roared. You leaned against the wall of the hallway backstage, panting as you wiped the sweat from your brow with one of your spare towels. The best thing was you knew he’d watched you. You hadn’t seen him. His calloused fingertips hadn’t been among the numerous disembodied hands to tuck money into your harness, but you’d felt him, felt his eyes on you as you’d danced. You sighed, a stupid little smile on your face as you walked back to the dressing room. Mei caught you as she returned to the stage, and you could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes, “Now where did that come from? That bastard Nanami didn’t warn me about this?” “Is there a problem?” you responded, coolly, arms folded beneath your bare chest. “Not at all – although you nearly started a riot back there. Whose jacket is that?” You shrugged and stuck out your tongue. Mei shook her head and patted your cheek, “Alright, get out of here, before I drag you back onstage myself.” You made good on her command, striding off, heels echoing down the passageway. Gone was the heated saunter, the sway to your hips. Now you were just a woman who’d finished work for the day, despite being mostly naked and covered in wads of cash. Maybe you’d have extra to give Tsumiki at the end of the month, especially if all your dances were going to end up like this. Your smile returned, just as you breached the gap between backstage and the dressing room. The stupid corridor that led to the bathrooms fully interrupted the safe unseen departure from the stage to the refuge of the changerooms. Many a girlish shriek had been heard bouncing across its concrete walls. Funny how dancers changed the moment they left the stage. You always giggled. The sexiest, most dominating women on stage, the most skittish and timid girls behind the curtain. Not you though. It wasn’t like the accidental voyeur was seeing anything new, only now it was just beneath harsh fluorescent light.

Your name being mumbled brought you back to reality, your journey halted right in the middle of the corridor. You turned, tiny towel pressed over your chest. It was Megumi. “’Gumi? What are you doing back here?” you shifted to one hip, head tilted to one side. Your jacket was practically thrown at you, covering your front. “I brought these!” Megumi was looking to one side, eyes respectfully averted. You softened, and shrugged the jacket on and over your chest. He was too sweet. He stretched out his arm, your stray bra hanging between pinched fingers. “Oh, ‘Gumi, bless you,” you plucked the garment free and tossed it onto your shoulder, over your towel. “Um, I also got you this,” he thrust a bottle of water into your hands. God, these siblings were too much. Tsumiki had already loaded you up on snacks and energy drinks for this week’s shifts. You stepped into Megumi’s space, planted a lipstick peck on his cheek and grinned, “I envy the person you eventually fall in love with, Megumi. You really are a gentleman rogue, aren’t you?” you pinched his cheek, and then with a sudden thought, continued, “Do you mind telling ‘Miki that I need the flat tonight? Can she crash at yours?” He frowned, finally meeting your eyes, “Why?”

“Hey you! Some dilf is requesting you for a private dance. VIP lounge,” Nobara strutted up behind Megumi, stopping with a hand on her hip, “You gonna take it, or must I? Since you have ‘personal business’ to attend to,” she winked, her lip curled in amusement. At any other time you would have snapped back, but the sudden burn between your legs at the news sent all vengeful thoughts out the window. “I’ll take it. Thank you for telling me, Kugisaki,” you gave her a smile, “tell them I’ll be up in ten.” “Eh? What about your ‘personal business?” Also, you can’t seriously take ten minutes, Mei will kill you.” you turned, throwing over your shoulder, “That dilf is my ‘personal business’, darling,” you paused at the entrance of the dressing room, turning back to wave at the two, “And that extra five minutes is what makes my business personal,” you smirked, and closed the door on their startled faces.

…

You could hear him from the stairs to the private lounges, his signature blues bleeding from the VIP room, and your smile grew even wider. You could feel Nanami’s eyes on you from the floor below, the two stacks of cash still in his hands. His cut of your pay, and Tsumiki’s secret sponsorship money. He was frowning, and you knew that his sharp eyes were narrowed behind his dark glasses. You flashed him a smile from the top of the stairs, and he shook his head, clearly sighing in frustration. You were grateful to him, really. He kept your underhanded deposits into Tsumiki’s bank account to himself, handling it alongside the bar’s finances without asking for a higher percentage of your pay. He was a good man. Another gentleman in the vast herd of hooligans that frequented the bar. But right now, you had another man on your mind. Not a gentleman, not by far. But you didn’t want or need a gentleman.

You knocked hard against the VIP lounge door, the heat in your abdomen flickering at the low rasp that invited you in. “You nearly got another girl sent up,” you purred, turning to close the door behind you. “Oh really? Maybe I should have taken her. I doubt she’d be fifteen minutes late. Makes me think you didn’t want to see me,” Toji stood at minibar, a cigarette and glass of whisky in hand. You leaned against the door, subtly rubbing your thighs together at the sight of him. A pitch black dress shirt pulled tight over the muscles of his chest, the rolled cuffs straining over his thick forearms. His charcoal dress pants clung to his thighs, and you ached with the thought of riding the firm muscle as he whispered filth into your ear. He had a new scratch over his cheekbone, a well-healed indication of a past scuffle. You looked at your feet, cheeks warm. Only this man could fluster you, set your heart racing.

“I just wanted to look good, you did ask me to be sexy for you,” you mumbled, and Toji chuckled, “You’re always sexy for me, babygirl. Now, come here,” he opened his arms, and you nearly sprinted across the room into his embrace. This was rare, and by God were you gonna take advantage of it. You pressed yourself into the hard muscle of his body, into the warmth of his big arms, into the scent of cinnamon and his heady musk. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head, nuzzling you hair. “You changed your shampoo,” he murmured, and you looked into his low-lidded eyes. “I decided to treat myself, do you like it?” “Hmm,” he smirked at you, “I like you, the rest doesn’t matter much to me.” He laughed openly at the sudden darkening of your cheeks and doe-eyed look you took on. Before you could respond, he leaned in to kiss you, tongue immediately pushing into you with a flood of whisky and nicotine. You sighed into the kiss, threading your fingers into his hair, slightly tousling the inky strands pulled back from his face.

“But I gotta say, sweetheart, you really do like to test me, don’t you?” he released your lips to rumble into your ear, his knuckles coming to tap under your chin. You frowned, perplexed, “What do you mean?” “You’re getting a little bold, doll. I thought you didn’t want people to know about us, especially my kids,” Toji’s eyebrow twitched up, “But what’s a man to do if he sees his girl dancing like that, in his jacket even?” He fingered the collar of his jacket on your shoulders, and you gave him a close-eyed smile, “How would anybody know that this was yours, Toji? I took all identifiers off.” He shifted his hand to grip your jaw between his thick fingers, forcing you to look directly at him, “Because it took everything in me not to claim you in front of those gang brats. Then they’d know just who you belong to,” his pupils dilated, and you shivered. “The jacket does that it on its own,” you brushed your knuckles over his cheek, thumb caressing the scar over his lips, “plus, I wanted to do something special to welcome you back.” “This the first time you wearing it?” You nodded, “I was getting bored of Getou and Gojo fighting over me. It was time they realised that I won’t ever belong to them,” you shrugged, and Toji’s smirk grew. “Is that so, doll? You saying you’re mine?” “Of course,” you examined him through your lashes, gasping softly as his hand dropped to wrap his fingers around your throat. He pressed his thumb in slightly, smiling at your little pants and wide eyes.

“Then why were you acting so cosy with Megumi? Did you grow so desperate that you settled for the son whilst the father was away?” His nose was a mere gasp from yours, and hot breath stroked your cheeks. He eased up on your throat. “Never, Toji. Megumi’s like my kid brother!” you grimaced, the thought of seeing Megumi romantically striking you as horribly wrong. Toji searched your glossy eyes, your pinched eyebrows. “You really think that? Then tell me, babygirl, why does your ‘kid brother’ look at you the same way I look at you?” You shook your head. Toji brought his hand to your shoulder, rough thumb rubbing against your collarbone, “Alright, sweetheart, I believe you. But you’re too sweet for your own good, yeah? Whether you’re aware of it or not, you’re playing a dangerous game with Megumi, treating him like that.” “Aren’t you just projecting, Toji? ‘Gumi’s a cute kid, I don’t think he could hurt a fly,” you hummed. Toji smiled, his bright white teeth flashing in the low light of the lounge. He snaked his arm around your body, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you tight against him. “He’s a Fushiguro, babygirl. And Fushiguro men aren’t sweet for our women,” he took your earlobe between his teeth, “we’re hungry for them.”

You pushed him away gently, tired of his talk of his son. You didn’t want to think about Megumi now, not when his father stood before you, magnetising, mesmerising. You took Toji’s hands, and led him to the low couch at the wall, and pressed lightly down on his shoulders. “Well then, Mr Fushiguro, are you hungry for me too?” you shifted your hands to your hips, feet planted between Toji’s parted legs. He leaned back onto the couch, finally looking up at you, at the thin sheer slip you wore, at the black straps that wound themselves around your curves, at your bare breasts beneath your bra. “Fuckin’ starving, doll.”

That was your cue, his permission to do what you did best. You took a beat to listen to the music before you started to sway your hips to the rhythm. You turned your back on him, rocking your ass over his laps, slowly peeling his jacket off, watching him over your shoulder. The jacket landed on the couch beside him, and you heard a deep groan of annoyance as you pointedly avoided letting your body touch his. Thick fingers suddenly dug into your hips and tugged you onto his lap. “Don’t think you can tease me, sweetheart,” Toji ground his hips into your ass, breathing hotly over your ear. Just then, his half-hard cock caught on your clit, and all that fell from your lips was a whimper. Without thinking, you rocked hard against him, moaning quietly as your cunt ran along his length. Fuck, you’d underestimated how much you missed him.

“That’s my girl, why don’t you let me see that pretty face of yours, hmm? Touch those pretty tits.” You spun around slowly, dropping to crouch between his legs. You ran your fingers up his calves to his knees, and used him as support to snake your body upwards. You rolled your chest up his torso and to a standing position, wrapping your hands along your curves, groping at your breasts as you trailed you arms upward, and then over your head. Toji shifted forward in his seat, fingertips brushing up your legs to the top of your thigh-high tights.

“Do you like what I got for you?” you swung your legs over his, coming down to straddle his lap. Toji rubbed the soft fabric of your slip between his fingers. “Hmm,” was the answer you got, his hands slipping beneath the hem to tease at the leather garter straps at the top of your thighs, “Is this the full set?” You nodded, “I only wore the harnesses for my dance, no-one else has seen the rest.” Toji hooked his thumbs under the straps and tugged you down onto his lap, thrusting his clothed cock into your core. You gasped out a moan, followed by a yelp when Toji buried his teeth into your shoulder. “And no-one ever will, understand?” Toji spidered his fingers up your thighs, along your torso and below your breasts, gathering up your slip as he moved. He pulled it off over your head, your arms raised obediently for him. Toji leaned in immediately, hot mouth seeking out the soft flesh of your neck. “Yes, but Toji, please. Mouth off,” you cupped his jaw, holding him away from your skin.

That was the wrong thing to say. In a second, he had your arms wound behind your back, your wrists caught in one big hand as he dug his chin into your shoulder. With his other hand, Toji pulled his already loosened tie from his neck and began to fasten your hands, pushing your chest flat against his as he restrained you. “You’ve really gotten bold, doll. I’m gone for what? Six weeks? Now you’re telling where I can and can’t mark you, hah?”  Toji leaned back from you, leaving you trying to balance on his hips, your arms tightly bound behind you. You tested your restraints, smiling inwardly at the way the silk tie gave slightly. Of course, Toji wouldn’t hurt you. Not unless you asked him to. “You know why you can’t mark me. Clients don’t like it when the dancers bear evidence of having a lover, it ruins the fantasy.” He bucked his hips up, knocking you forward onto his chest. “Well fuck their fantasies, sweetheart. You’re mine, and once I’m done with you,” he lifted your chin to make eye-contact. He licked his lips, “There will be no doubt as to who you belong to.”

That said, Toji rocked you upright, palms over your hips, holding you tight to the pulsing heat in his pants. He began to rock your pelvis over his cock, smirking at your little whine as he caught against your clit. You took over soon after, grinding your needy cunt against him, whimpering at the burn building in your lower tummy. Toji began to play with your tits, thick fingers pinching and rolling your nipples through the lace of your bra, occasionally just grabbing and kneading the flesh in his broad palms. You sighed out in little moans and whines of his name, humping his cock like a bitch in heat, that fire in your body growing and growing with each brilliant bit of friction, your pussy soaking through your underwear, a thin glistening forming on Toji’s pants.

“Aren’t you a desperate little whore? Did you miss my cock, babygirl?” Toji gripped you by your shoulders and lifted you back to your feet. You whimpered, tears pricking at your eyes at the loss of friction. Toji pushed you down onto the couch and leaned over you, his knees knocking your legs apart. He slapped you then, the meat of your thigh flaring white hot. “Answer me, slut. You miss my cock, doll? You miss being my little fuck toy?” You nodded, peering up at him, cheeks hot and eyes wet. “Yes, Toji. Missed your cock, missed your touch,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, bravely muttering the next three words, “I missed you.” There was silence.

Chapped lips pressed over yours, soft and wary. You opened your eyes, looking straight up into Toji’s heady green gaze. Slowly, he placed close-mouthed kisses over your face, ending with another firm kiss to your lips. He moved down your body, his ministrations languid but reverent as he sucked and bit and licked his way to your hips. Toji dropped to his knees, and lifted your legs onto his shoulders, littering little kisses and love bites over the silken skin of your inner thighs. You looked down at him, perched awkwardly on your elbows, suspended between him and the couch. He paused, his cheek resting on one of your legs, his thumbs rubbing circles into the flesh above the hem of your underwear. He breathed in deeply, taking in your scent, the tang of your arousal. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” It was barely a whisper, five words lost in the sea of lyrics flowing from the speakers, but you heard him, and you gave him a smile.

But Toji was already moving on, closing his hot mouth over your clothed pussy, sucking on your clit through the fabric. You keened, legs seizing slightly as Toji shifted the cloth covering your cunt to one side, a thin string of your slick immediately falling from your weeping pussy. “Fuck, doll, you’re already a mess, hah?” All you could do was moan in reply as Toji swiped a finger over your clit and down through your folds, gathering your arousal onto his digit. And then he was inside you, up to his knuckles in your velvet heat, your walls tight and desperate around him. From his first entrance, his crooked finger was reaching deep up inside of you, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re so fucking tight for me, babygirl. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, yeah?” Toji grumbled into the plush of your thighs, the thick squelch of your cunt audible only to the pair of you, the blaring speakers drowning out your keening voice. Toji began to finger-fuck you in earnest, each pump of his hand causing white heat to flare behind your eyes, his fingertip pushing against your sensitive spot each time. Your thighs twitched and tensed on either side of his head, but Toji paid them no heed, eyes fixed on your drenched cunt and how it fluttered around his finger. Suddenly he leaned forward, laying a firm lick from your entrance to your clit, sucking hard on the bud of nerves. His name fell out your mouth in a strangled cry, your back arching off the couch, your cunt clenching down on Toji’s finger.

Jolts of static pleasure began to run through your veins, bathing your body in lightning, pressure building in your tummy as Toji worked you toward your first orgasm of the night. Just then, another finger broached your cunt, and your tight walls burned at the stretch. Toji hissed, watching as your pussy struggled to take him, as you pushed your pulsing cunt down onto his fingers. “Atta girl, fuck my fingers like a good little slut. You gonna make yourself cum for me, doll?” Toji looked up at you, flashing his teeth as he nipped your thigh. You yelped and nodded. Mascara tears trickled down your heated cheeks as you worked your hips onto Toji’s fingers, the thick slosh of your pussy filled your ears, the music having long faded from your consciousness. Eventually, you planted your feet onto the floor, legs spread on either side of Toji’s wide shoulders, your bound hands white-knuckling the seat of the couch as you fucked Toji’s thick, wet fingers.

You could feel it coming, could feel the sweet burn in your abdomen flare into full flame, every nerve of your body alight as you approached your climax. But it wasn’t enough. “Please, Toji, want you, need you,” you panted, your chest heaving. “Hmm, sweetheart? What do you want? You need to tell me, doll,” Toji remained with his cheek on your thigh, a lazy smirk cutting across his face. “Can’t cum without you – need you – please, Toji,” you babbled. “Aw, does my babygirl need me to make her cum? Can’t she get herself off?” Toji cooed and you nodded. “Please, please, please,” the words tripped over themselves, you body trembling, your climax just one touch away. “Fuck, I love it when you beg,” Toji wrapped a thick forearm over your lower body, forcing you still, “Cum for me, babygirl.” His mouth was on you immediately, sucking down on your clit, teeth grazing against the sensitive satin of your cunt as he bit and licked at you with abandon.

And then you were cumming, crying as a torrent of heat washed over your body. You went slack against Toji, pussy drenching his mouth and chin. Strong arms lifted you up to sit properly against the back of the couch, your bare cunt dribbling out onto the cushion below you as Toji tucked your face into his neck and rubbed slow circles over your stomach. “That’s my girl. You came so hard, hmm? You been touching yourself without me?” You shook your head, nuzzling against his dollar, drunk on his scent. “No,” you mumbled, “not as good as you,” your lids were heavy, your energy spent. Toji rumbled against you, and after sucking his fingers clean of you, he undid your binding and held your wrists in his warm palms. After a while, Toji tugged your slip back on with his jacket and slung you up and over his shoulder with a huff.

You trailed through to the bedroom. At least the bed was large, and soft, you discovered as you fell face first onto the mattress. A slew of red petals took flight as you made impact, and you took momentary joy in snow-angelling the heaps of flowers from the sheets. The bath could have been a small swimming pool, and there was every scent of bubble-bath, bath-bomb and bath-salt available, lined up in little crystal bottles of all shapes and sizes. The bar fridge was well stocked - Gojo would be pleased to know that the champagne was already chilled - and you were delighted to find a pint of chocolate ice-cream in the freezer section. Maybe after this was all over you could take a bath, and have a good cry into your dessert.

 Your small overnight case stood next to a bedside table. You tugged it into a larger area of carpet and plopped to the floor, opening the bag with a series of clicks and zips. This was not the bag you packed earlier. An explosion of soft tissue paper fluttered open with the bag, revealing an iridescent garment of black silk and lace. You checked the luggage tag. Yup, it was your bag. Then where were your normal pyjamas? With a scowl you pulled the satiny nightdress from its wrapping, only to find a tangle of black leather straps, a set of stockings and matching underwear. Beneath it all was a crisp white card, signed in an elegant hand. You can thank me later - Mei Mei xxx You hoped Mei Mei's favourite weapon broke on her next mission. What was she thinking? When did she get the chance to swap out your luggage? How did she even know your size? Strangely, it was to your taste, even the same brand that Toji had got you for your last birthday. A present for you, to give to him. Selfish old man. Then you realised. Mei Mei had been the one to help you pack up your flat. She must have snuck a peek when you had gone out for food. You shoved the lingerie back into the suitcase, and, much to your relief, found all your normal toiletries. No clothes for tomorrow though. Damn you, Mei Mei.

You began dismantling your hair, eyes wide at the sheer amount of hairpins to emerge from the arrangement. Next was your dress. Shit. You twisted your neck to get a glimpse of your back in the bathroom mirror, fingers scrambling in vain at the various buttons, clasps and zips that held the conservative dress together. Mei Mei was right, the dress was more complicated than necessary, it was almost as if the elders wanted to make sure nobody could threaten your chastity until the time for Gojo and his miracle vision could untangle the impossible knot of your wedding dress. You could have laughed. Here you were, a trained assassin, stuck in a wedding dress. Waiting for a man to come and free you. You decided to give up. It's not as if you were particularly eager to take the thing off anyway. Ten minutes later, and you were slouched low on the sofa looking out the window, a steaming cup of tea in your hands. You heard Gojo before you saw him, his voice travelling down the corridor to your suite as he sung some generic pop song. That last drink must have cheered him up. The door clicked open, "Honey, I'm home~" You sunk lower into the couch, and stared at the tips of your toes, which stuck out from the creamy clouds of your dress. "Champagne's cold. It was already in the fridge. They gave us ice-cream too." Long, cold fingers rested on your shoulders, and you craned your neck back to look up at Gojo. His glasses were gone, finally. His eyes, those eerie blue eyes, examined you with scrutiny, taking in every errant detail. Your mussed, undone hair, the patchy smudges of mascara below your eyes, the gaps in your foundation where you'd blown your nose. Your crumpled wedding dress, still stubbornly on, the cup of tea in your shaking hands, your bare feet dug into the hotel carpet. "Why the fuck are you drinking tea? Don't they have other drinks here?" His question caught you off guard. You straightened out your neck and ran your knuckles along your aching vertebrae. "Hmm? They do, I just didn't want to drink anymore." Gojo folded himself in half to peer into the fridge and pulled out a beer. He kicked off his shoes and fell into the chair adjacent to your couch. After a long swig, "So," he started, "I guess I have a wife now." You nodded slowly, "I suppose you do." "You don't have to sound so down about it. This was the best of a bad situation. At least now we both got what we wanted." Your eyes snapped from your tea to Gojo. What? You got what you wanted? You never wanted to get married in the first place. The only reason you went along with this whole disaster was because they threatened to kill your mother if you refused. You schooled your face as Gojo made eye contact. You gave him a standard smile, "So, Gojo Satoru, strongest jujutsu sorcerer, what did you get out of this? Was there some impossible wish only my family could grant if you married one of us in return?" His lips fell open in a small gasp. "You knew the deal, right?" Deal? There was a fucking deal? Clearly your face told him your answer. He shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his snowy head below his shoulders. "My clan wouldn't fully acknowledge me as the new head unless I got married. I need allies if I'm going to change how our world is run, you see? If I got hitched, I'd be clan head, and if I chose a girl from a strong family, I'd get that family's political power. Whether they agree with my beliefs or not doesn't matter. The clans just want to be connected to Gojo Satoru." He winked at you then, and you resisted the urge to drench him in hot tea. "Then why my clan? You could have joined ties with the Zen'ins, they're basically leaderless at the moment, and I'm sure there's a woman of marriageable age from one of the branches," You pondered. It would have been a good move. Since the contract binding Megumi to the Zen'ins had 'mysteriously' disappeared and the subsequent succession wars that had left most of the young men of the family dead, the once powerful clan was scrambling for any chance to regain control. The Zen'in bloodlines were strong (bar Toji and the one twin, Maki) and a Gojo-Zen'in child was guaranteed to have a formidable cursed technique. It would also put an end to the centuries-long war between the clans. "I'm surprised you know that much, I thought you weren't interested in jujutsu politics." "Well when you suddenly become a bargaining chip, you don't really have much of a choice but to become interested," Your tone was dry. Gojo winced. Good. "So why us? Why me? And don't say love or looks - or genetics, we both know I don't have my father's technique." That was a partial lie. You had your father’s technique, just exceptionally low levels of cursed energy. Gojo looked out the window. "When our first child is born, your clan will give me full property rights to your ancestral land in Osaka to build my own school." You nearly choked on your tea. "Our first child?" "Of course," Gojo smiled properly then, "Wasn't that your wish? To run your own home, have lots of children and be spoiled rotten?" You dropped your cup. "Is that what they told you?" you asked through clenched teeth, so low Gojo almost didn't hear you. "Huh? Yeah, wait, what's going on?" Gojo rose to his feet as the hot stain of the tea soaked through the clean white of your dress. You ignored the burn of the liquid seeping onto your thighs as your hands clenched the frills. The sound of tearing fabric filled the silence of the room. "Is that what those old bastards told you? That I wanted to play housewife? To pump out babies and get waited on hand and foot?" You looked directly into Gojo's eyes as you stood. He nodded, and if you could have, you would have screamed. "What the genuine fuck? Who the fuck do they think they are? Who the fuck do they think I am?" You began toward the door, only to have Gojo grab a hold of your shoulders and force you to look at him. "Hey, whatever it is, it's too late now. Calm down. I'm sure it can be sorted out in a few days' time." "Gojo. They threatened to kill my mom if I didn't marry you," You pushed his hands away and turned from him. You stood at the window, looking down at the world carrying on below. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around your stiff frame, and your husband rested his head on top of your dishevelled hair. You exhaled slowly, leaning into him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I would never have agreed if I'd known," he murmured, his lips pressed to the side of your hairline. You nodded. Gojo Satoru may be an asshole, but he wasn't a monster. "Come, let's get you out of this dress. It's wet and," he looked down at the tattered frills, "torn? You have surprising strength." "Do you blame me?" "No," he steered you to the bedroom and turned on the light. He faced you toward the bed and began craning over the puzzle of the back of your dress. The hair on your neck stood on end, and you visibly tensed. Gojo leaned over your shoulder to catch your eye. "Relax, I'm just helping you out of this thing. What do you say to some cake and champagne? I'll go ring room-service whilst you get comfortable." You exhaled slowly and nodded. You wondered if this was the real Gojo Satoru, the man beneath the twelve-year-old's persona, the teacher beneath the sorcerer with a god-complex. Maybe being married to this man would be okay. You'd never love him, that much was obvious. Your heart had been given to him, and you doubted any amount of time would dissolve the hold Toji had over you. At the very least, maybe you could become Gojo's friend. Gojo hummed as he fiddled with the dress, a hissed 'yes' whistling through his teeth as the contraption around your neck released, baring the skin of your upper back with a series of popped buttons. Instinctively, you held the front of the dress to your chest only to yelp as Gojo prodded a spot just below your right shoulder-blade. "What's this?" your stomach somersaulted, sifting through all the possible marks that could have been left there. Was it a hickey? No, Toji had never marked you there before. A bruise from your last mission? Not a chance, the target had been taken out with a single shot. "Huh? What is it?" you tried to look over your shoulder. Gojo placed his hand on the top of your head and forced you to look forward as his other hand traced a circle onto your skin. "I don't know, sugar, shouldn't you be the one to know why it looks like you were shot through your back?" Gojo's voice had dropped deeper, probing. He pressed his thumb into the scar, hard. "Um," Fuck. You'd forgotten about that one. You'd slipped up on one of your first jobs, and had learnt your lesson by being shot clean through by a sniper. "Um, it was a hunting accident, yea, in my teens - one of my mom's brothers shot me by mistake." You hoped to hell the lie would stick. Gojo knew you had maternal uncles overseas, you'd told him about some of the trips you'd gone on to see them with your parents. "Ouch, it must have been pretty bad to scar this much," you let out a steady breath at the lighter note of Gojo's tone, "Right, I'm going to go order some sweets. You good from here?" You nodded, and you heard the bedroom door click shut. You dropped the dress to your ankles and kicked it across the room. Cursed thing. Your eyes fell to your suitcase. Right. The only thing you had to wear was that. You laid Mei Mei's 'gift' out on the bed. The harness went straight back into the bag. You made do with what was left, and was just about to bundle yourself into the hotel dressing-gown when Gojo knocked and opened the door. You threw the gown over yourself in fright, and your husband tutted. "You do realise we're a married couple now, right? I'm going to see you naked eventually." He wasn't wrong. But that didn't make it right, not when it wasn't his gaze you desired. Or his touch. Your clan's promise to him flashed through your mind. What was the difference between you and the empty hectares of sacred land they'd given him? The land would bear his new school, you would bear his heir. Nothing but fertile property handed over in exchange for what? The privilege of hanging onto Gojo Satoru's coattails. You were so much more than that. But did Gojo think the same? You shrugged and rehung the gown onto the hook on the bathroom door. You stepped back to your bag and unearthed your brush and comb. With your back to Gojo - thankfully, it was now covered by the thin silk of the nightgown - you began to brush out your hair. Each time the brush dragged through your locks, you took a deep breath and counted to eight with every exhale. Automatically, you paused at the end of each stroke, waiting for his fingers to tug at the ends, twirling them around his digits in an effort to coax you to bed. But your hair bounced loose and free, and no low rasp tickled your ears.

Instead, soft lips tickled the back of your neck, and smooth hands ran themselves down your arms. You glanced up at Gojo, your brush still mid-stroke. He'd lost his jacket and bowtie in the interim. Flawless white skin and defined collarbones peeked out from the undone buttons of his dress-shirt, and he'd removed his belt somewhere in the other room. You finished your brush-stroke and calmly stepped out of Gojo's arms to place your hairbrush at the vanity table. Gojo had continued to unbutton his shirt as he approached you, crowding you against the wall. His abdominals glimmered in the low light of the room, his pale skin ethereal as it rippled over his lean chest. You tilted your chin up, eyes off his body and just to the left of his face, gaze placed firmly on the hideous painting above the bed. And just like him, but so horribly not, Gojo gripped your chin between his thumb and index finger and tugged your face close. "It's okay, sweetheart, you can look. Nothing wrong with enjoying what's on offer," Gojo almost purred, the palm on your face winding around the back of your neck and his other arm pulling you once again by the waist to make contact with his torso. You clutched your hands to your chest, impassive as his skylit eyes examined your expression. Taking the lack of resistance as a positive sign, Gojo placed his lips on yours. He started gently, just slight presses of his mouth and traces of his tongue as he held you close. You understood now why people threw themselves at this man. Involuntarily, you responded, sighing at the heat of his body against yours and the rhythm of his mouth moving with yours. He had this glow, you decided, this warm glow that bathed you in his presence, a light that could grow to put the sun to shame. Your back made brief contact with the cold of the wall behind you, and you gasped. Gojo slipped his tongue past your opened lips, and your fingers found purchase in the unbuttoned front of his shirt. He was impossibly sweet, impossibly warm, taking over your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of beer lingered on his tongue, a bitter taste bursting through the rich creaminess of chocolate. He'd opened the ice-cream. Without you. Without thinking you retaliated how you would normally, biting down on your lover's lower lip. But you weren't kissing Toji. You were kissing Gojo. Your husband. Gojo pulled away, his body still pinning you lightly to the wall. "Oh~?", he raised an eyebrow, "So this is how you like to play?" Before you could speak his mouth was over yours, nipping and sucking your lips and tongue as he pried your knees apart with his leg. His mouth latched onto your neck as he rocked his body into yours, his thigh brushing between your legs as he lapped against your pulse point. Your breath hitched, and a whimper caught in your throat. This was what Gojo was waiting for. Your pleasure. Without warning you were spun around and walked backwards to the bed, Gojo supporting most of your weight in his arms as he clutched at your waist and hips. As your knees hit the bed he swung you onto the mattress and pushed you onto your back. You propped yourself onto your elbows to watch as he peeled his shirt from his shoulders and crawled up the bed to kiss you once again. What were you doing? You didn't love Gojo. But you were his wife. And you and Toji were over. Finished. Parted after one final time just two days ago. And now you were in the arms of another man, a man you'd married that very afternoon, a man you'd married against your will. And now you were going to fuck.

Gojo's fingers lightly skimmed the skin beneath your nightdress, pulling and running his digits along the elastic of your garters. Your skin burned beneath his touch, his soft fingertips so foreign after the years of Toji's calloused and bruising grip. "Hmm? What's this?" Gojo released the garter suspenders against your thighs with a snap beneath your nightie, his eyes widening as your cheeks flushed and a soft moan breathed past your lips. "Ask Mei Mei. She's the one who stole my luggage," you mumbled, looking to one side as Gojo sat back on his knees to appraise you. You pressed your knees closed, and tried to steady your breathing, only to receive a light slap on each calf. Gojo frowned. "Come on, sugar, be a good girl." Your legs relaxed, but your jaw clenched. There it was again. 'Good girl.' Only he could call you that and get away with all his limbs intact. Gojo must have seen your displeasure, as he leaned forward to rub his knuckles against your cheek. "Hey, look at me. I don't, uh," Gojo paused, eyes looking everywhere but your face, "I don't normally treat my lovers gently, um. I don't usually sleep with girls like you either, so you're gonna have to talk to me here, I don't want to hurt you during your first time." Cute. At least he had the grace to be kind to you on your first night together. Wait. First night or first time? What was a 'girl like you' meant to mean? Did Gojo Satoru think you were a virgin? You raised an eyebrow at him, and reached up to rub his shoulder reassuringly. "Then it's a good thing it's not my first time, right? You don't have to treat me like glass, although I appreciate that you were willing to go gentle on me," you gave him a small smile. He blinked at you, "Wait, so you're not, uh -" For a thirty-year-old man, he sure was struggling with the word 'virgin'. "A virgin? No. How old am I, Gojo?" "Er, twenty-six?" "Yep," you placed your palm flat against his breastbone, and gently guided Gojo onto his back. "I'm a twenty-six-year-old woman living in the twenty-first century," You swung your thigh over Gojo's narrow hips to straddle him, "my clan might be stuck in the dark ages, but that doesn't mean I am."

You ran the nail of your forefinger up Gojo's chest, your eyes never leaving his as you settled your pelvis just over the growing bulge in his pants. A large hand snatched your outstretched wrist forward so that you toppled forward onto Gojo's chest. His hands clamped down on your hips, and the man beneath you flashed you a feral grin, "Then don't come crying to me tomorrow when you can’t walk, sugar." His hips bucked up into your heat, sparking white fire as the fabric of your clothes rubbed against your clit. He laid his hand flat against the top of your ass beneath your slip, pushing and rocking your hips into his as his other had grabbed the back of your head to bring you down into a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue. Slowly, slowly, he began to coax little moans and whimpers from your throat, the rolling of his length against your clit stoking the tight fire in your abdomen. Your under wear began to soak through. His hands began climbing up your sides once you'd started riding him yourself, stroking and gripping as he felt his way along your torso. Your ground your hips down onto his, revelling in the friction, in the possibility of forgetting who you were fucking, in the feeling of being desired. Gojo reached your tits with a hard squeeze, before pinching and rolling your left nipple between his knuckles. You let out a long groan then, and Gojo pushed himself upright to sit, his fingers tugging your nightdress over your head, holding you at arm's length to admire you as you knelt in his clothed lap.

You hit the floor with a thud, arms instinctively shooting back to prevent your head from colliding with the carpet.

Gojo had thrown you off the bed. You looked up at him, blinking in shock. He was still in the same position, his legs spreadeagled and back straight up.

"What the fuck?" you asked, pissed, bruised, and turned off. You rolled into a crouch and onto your feet, your hands on your hips as you faced your husband on the bed. "I could ask you the same fucking question," Gojo's voice had lost its playfulness, a deep monotone that nearly caused you to shiver. "Who gave you those?" he pointed to your abdomen and thighs. You looked down, puzzled, until the familiar pattern of faded bruises and bitemarks became accusatory. Toji. Two nights ago. Hickeys were scattered across your inner thighs and up your stomach to your breasts. Purple blooms in the clearly defined shape of fingerprints encircled your outer thighs where he'd held your trembling legs open to eat you out, and there were almost faint handprints where he'd gripped your hips to fuck you into a sobbing stupor. There was no denying that you'd been with someone else. And recently too. You had even asked him to avoid leaving marks, but you hadn't looked this patchy since the jealousy sex after someone had groped you at a bar. You'd forgotten that Toji was petty. That he'd also lost something, someone, in this mess. That you had broken up to marry Gojo Satoru, the only man to come close to killing Toji. The man who had taken away Toji's son (at Toji's request. But that was just semantics in Toji's head) And you? You, who was so in love, and ignorant to the fact that you would be exposed to someone else, your husband, and that the near-constant vision of your body covered in evidence of another man's passion, Toji's passion, would be unwelcome. You were always Toji's. Whether it was the hand that never left your body, or the marks he left behind, they'd been so consistent, for so long, that you honestly hadn't noticed them until it was too late.

Until your husband was staring at you slack-jawed after throwing you off the bed.

"Um..." you faltered. Toji was meant to be dead. His name could not be mentioned, no matter what. Gojo held up his hand. "Nevermind. Forget I asked. But answer this - When?" he moved to the edge of the bed and stood, and suddenly you had never felt as small as you did beneath his glare. "And don't lie," Gojo shoved a finger into a love bite just below your ribs, and you wheezed at the sudden pain, "these are too fresh to have been from before the engagement." You nodded. "So? When? A week ago? A day ago? Last fucking night?" his voice was growing in volume, and you winced. You were so tired of people yelling at you, tired of uncles, of aunts, of elders, and now your husband yelling at you. "Two!" you blurted, "two nights ago." Gojo made a retching noise in his throat, "And what? Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or did you think I would turn a blind eye to your cheating just because our marriage was arranged? Did you think I would share?" Gojo was beginning to sneer, and you suddenly felt far younger than your real age. "No," you cursed at how small your voice sounded. "No, what?" "No. I never expected you to share, or turn a blind eye, or whatever. This," you gestured at your body, "this was the last time we'd see each other. I wouldn't cheat on our marriage." "But you'd cheat during our engagement. Do you really expect me to believe you? That I'd believe that you wouldn't carry on whoring around just because we were married?" You sighed. "Why are you so angry, huh? It's not like we're lovers, Gojo. It's not like we even like each other. I had a lover. I had someone I loved. Now I don't. I'm not a cheater, and I won't betray the pact between our clans. I'll be your wife and I'll bear your children, and I'll be their mother and love them and raise them as was agreed. But I can't give you anything more than that. You'll just have to trust that I'll be loyal." You crossed your arms and looked steadily up at Gojo. He scoffed, "I'll just have to trust that you'll be loyal? Tell me, wife, does this encourage trust?" Gojo pulled your arms away from your ribs and tapped the flesh below your left breast.

Oh. Your tattoo. A single gravestone crowned by the words 'you and I' and resting on the continued phrase, 'born to die'. Toji's first initial "etched" into the stone of the grave. Your “Binding Vow”. Your shared mantra before each mission. He had the same tattoo over his left pectoral, only your initial was in the centre of the gravestone. "It's a couple's tattoo, right? One of those cheesy things you'd see online and think 'hah! No-one would ever be stupid enough to get one of those, right?' Well, it looks like my new wife has one, and it isn't even her husband's name." Gojo was spitting flames at this point. How could you explain? Of course, now it was a couple's tattoo. But you and Toji had gotten the matching pair long before you became lovers. One drunken night after a job gone bad. Both of you had nearly died, and that was the first time you'd seen fear in each other's eyes. You two were partners, the only other person in the whole world that the other would trust with their life besides themselves. You were the only other person Toji respected, and despite not being able to make such serious things as Binding Vows, the pair of you had formed a pact over the blood you had spilled that night. It was the life you both chose, and the person you chose to fight beside. It was never about love, only death, and the bloody fight that would finally claim your last breath. Gojo sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He's leaving Japan," you offered, voicing Toji's decision for the first time. You didn't know for whose sake he was leaving the country, but he was going. He was probably already gone. "Do you think that means anything? So this guy is gone, what about the next?" "The next?" you squinted, genuinely confused. "Yea, the next dick you hop on. Do you think he'd get a kick out of fucking Gojo Satoru's whore wife?" Gojo leaned into your space, his nose nearly touching yours as he spat.

You nearly slapped him. Instead, you sidestepped out of Gojo's line of vision and reached for your nightdress, which lay in a heap in the middle of the crumpled sheets. You pulled it back over your head and then wrapped the dressing-gown around your body. "Please leave, Gojo. I need to sleep." You began to fold back the duvet on your side of the bed, avoiding your husband's startled stare. You picked up his discarded shirt, shook it, and held it out to Gojo. He took it numbly and turned to leave. You perched on the edge of the bed and made a show of staring at your toes. You watched from the corner of your eye as the man slowly put on his shirt, his long fingers popping the buttons back with absent precision. You would need some hydrogen peroxide and plasters for your feet, there was no way those blisters were going to be gone by morning. Funny, it was morning already. The clock in the lounge read ten to one am. "You know what," Gojo suddenly muttered and your eyes shot to him, watching as he fiddled with something in his fingers, "Fuck it!" He threw the projectile with alarming speed, fear driving you to launch yourself behind the side of the bed as the object flew above you. Your ears were deafened by the crack of thick glass, the crash of heavy wood and the loud slam of a door.

Silence.

You uncurled from the foetal position on the floor. Shards of glass shattered out from the picture above the bed, which had fallen from the wall. You were alone in the suite. Carefully, you picked your way out of the room, gathering your bag and your brush as you left. From what you could tell, Gojo had thrown his wedding ring, which had now embedded itself in the wall where the picture used to hang. Fucking sorcerers. They never knew their own strength. You had just flopped onto a couch when you heard a knock on the door.

Who?

Gojo? You looked around, to see if he had left anything important behind (well, beside his wedding ring). There, next to his watch, on top of the fridge. His hotel key-card. Yours was still in the bedroom beside the massive pile of hairpins. The knock came again. Three, sharp, even knocks in quick succession. Urgent. You groaned to your feet and snatched up the card. You were already biting as you swung open the door, "You know, if you're going to throw a tantrum and make a dramatic exit, the least you can do is make sure you have all your important shit before you leave!" You shoved the card out into a chest. But not a lean, white-clad chest. A wide, muscled chest, in a black leather jacket and tight t-shirt. "Be careful, doll. You might hurt an innocent with that thing," warned the rumbling gravel voice, and a huge, scarred hand wrapped itself around your wrist and its key-card weapon.

His name bled from your lips in a moan, your back arched painfully as he fucked into you from behind with short, deep thrusts. Long, nimble fingers were wrapped around your throat, pulling you up until your head lolled back against his chest. “That’s it,” Gojo hummed into your ear, “such a good little whore for me, aren’t you, sugar?” Tears rolled down your cheeks, dragging thick streaks of glitter and darkness with them. You caught sight of yourself in the cracked mirror over the bathroom sink and closed your eyes in shame. You were a mess, a foolish lipstick-stained mess. The scarlet that had been so carefully painted onto your lips earlier was now smeared down your chin and bare neck, matching carelessly with the crimson smudges on Satoru’s face and collar. The neckline of your dress had been tugged down to free your breasts, the hem rolled up to reveal your cunt. And anyone could see you. The heavy thump of the bass reverberated through the cheap linoleum counter you were bent over, and just a few steps away, multicoloured lights flickered through the door to the club.

Tonight was meant to be different, tonight was going to be the night you quit. Tonight, beneath the kaleidoscopic shadows, on the melting dancefloor, you would walk away from your undoing. You would resist those bright summer sky eyes, that fox’s smile, that smooth lilt of crooned saccharine nothings. You would confront your addiction and defeat it. The words had wound their way around your tongue in barbed coils, ready to cast their iron thorns into the man who so carelessly cast you aside.

But, within the waves of rolling bodies, surrounded by the rhythmic surge of smoke-saturated song, his lightning-charged touch had ignited you and the daggers in your mouth had fizzled away into static. When Gojo Satoru held you, danced with you, kissed you, you reached a high beyond the stars. He was your drug, your celestial addiction, your escape. To him, you were nothing.

Gojo slapped you across the ass, hard. “Didn’t you hear me, slut?” he rumbled, “I told you to fucking watch yourself, watch me fucking you stupid,” he caged your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head to turn toward the mirror. “Open your eyes, whore,” Gojo hissed, painfully still within you. The ice of his belt buckle shivered over your outer thigh, and the open zip of his jeans rubbed harshly against your silken skin. Your eyelids fluttered open and Gojo slipped his fingers past your lips. “Suck,” he ordered, his other hand digging his digits deep into the plush of your hips. Without warning, he pulled out of you, until only the tip of his cock rested in your pussy. Then, he slammed his hips against your ass, stretching you out again on his pulsing length. You choked out a howl around his fingers, and drool began to trickle down his digits. Silently, Gojo fucked you, driving his cock into your cunt with quick snaps of his hips. To your relief, the music of the club just past the door drowned out the sound of your coupling, masking the slap of your ass against his lower abdomen and the muffled moans pouring from your mouth.

You were close, had been close since you’d started, your pulse thrumming with need from the moment you’d felt his hands on your hips and his words in your ear. “Bathroom. Five minutes.” Satoru had spoken. And you had obeyed. Despite all your previous resolutions, despite the well-worn tracks your tears travelled, night after night, despite the tired ache in your heart. Despite knowing that for all the love you held for him, you were only ever a casual fuck, a pastime, a source of release. It was the price of loving the powerful, you told yourself. How could you expect the person who always looked forward, always looked ahead, to ever look at you?

Of course, you knew your love was a web of lies. You knew that whatever sweet reassurance you gifted yourself was an empty promise. As much as you comforted yourself with the thought that someone like Satoru would never know how to love, you knew that that was false. Satoru could love. Had loved. Would not love again, especially not someone like you. So you settled. Settled for sudden wake-ups in the middle of the night. Settled for a cold bed the morning after. Settled for meaningless fucks in the bathroom of a grimy club.

Gojo picked up his pace, his fingers bruising in their hold, his breath hot on the back of your neck. You watched him rather than yourself in the mirror, memorising the rose flush of his cheeks, the wayward snowfall of his hair, the shine of his parted lips. Even under the glare of fluorescence, Satoru was an angel, feathers tousled from his celestial fall. A guardian angel, a visage of salvation, just not yours.

Your knees began to wobble, and you scrambled for a grip on the crumbling sink in front of you. Gojo was almost pulling you back onto his cock at that point, nearly toppling you from your heels with each spartan thrust. The tension in your lower abdomen had you trembling around Gojo, legs shaking and chest heaving. Your cunt ached, and you knew that walking tomorrow would be excruciating, but in this moment, Gojo deep inside you, his hands burning your skin, tomorrow was an eternity away.

But that eternity was a mirage. This would end, as always. And you would be alone, as always. Alone, until the next late night text or casually mentioned invitation, bright blue sparkling at you meaningfully over shadowed glasses, the trap laid out blatantly for all to see. And, with glossy eyes and fluttering lashes, you fell for it. Every single time.

Gojo pulled out from you completely, and your legs buckled beneath you. He hooked his hands below your arms and hauled you upright, spinning you and lifting you onto the counter. The linoleum creaked under your weight and you shivered at the ice touch of the tiled wall against your back. Satoru tugged your hips forward, and your ass hung off the edge of the counter. He gave you a wicked smile, throwing your one leg over his elbow and plunging himself deep into your soaking cunt. “Satoru!” you yelped, tears blossoming at the edge of your eyes, hands scrambling to find purchase on Gojo’s broad shoulders. You wound your fingers into the silk of his shirt, wrapping your other leg around his hips to bring him closer. “That’s it,” he cooed, “tell them who’s making you feel this good.” Satoru leaned back, one hand gripping your hip and the other anchoring himself to the counter. He began to piston his cock into your cunt, watching intently as his length was devoured by your needy pussy. With each thrust your entire body jolted, your tits bouncing and your knuckles white as you clutched at everything, anything, to keep yourself from harm. Gojo made a quiet observation of your face, your glowing skin, glazed over eyes, and drool trickling down your chin. His name came out in panted gasps and hitched moans, and Gojo had never felt closer to divine. Your cunt clenched around him and your legs twitched. You were close. Good.

His thumb was rough against your clit, ruthless in rubbing the nerves into burning pleasure. Your lower abdomen tensed, the white heat of your climax flaring into even greater flame. Gojo adjusted his grip on you, shifting how his cock pierced your pussy, igniting a burst of sparks in your belly. You keened then, desperate and weeping, almost collapsing from the wash of static warmth rushing over you. “Cum, slut,” Gojo ordered, “cum for me.” And you obeyed, sobbing his name as you shook around him. He fucked you through your shuddering pleasure, his hips sputtering and twitching as he chased his own release. Muttered curses fell from his lips as he hid his face in your neck, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper into your soft skin. “Fuck,” he rasped, pulling out to release himself onto your thighs and stomach, the white splatter hot on your exposed flesh. He shuddered into you, leaning his torso onto yours with its full weight, his breath warm and wet on your collarbones.

It was over. Again. Hesitantly, you reached up to caress the snowy fluff of his undercut, unconsciously holding him close as you savoured the gentle moment between you. Then, Gojo was stood, snatching a wad of paper towels and handing them to you with a cheeky smirk. He stood too far away, focussed on wiping himself off and tucking his cock back into his trousers. “Do you mind?” he asked, and you frowned, chest still heaving, limbs still trembling. You’re in front of the mirror, and he needed to neaten up. Shakily, you shuffled out the way, taking the clump of tissues and mopping at the mess of cum whilst you absently watched him from the corner of your eye.

Gojo Satoru was a drug, your drug. His high took you to heaven, but the crash was worse than the pits of hell. You fell too fast, and landed hard, for there are no soft words and loving caresses once he was finished. He splashed his face and combed his hair back with water, erasing all lipstick evidence of your tryst with a towel and a smile. He rebuttoned his shirt and straightened out the creases. He takes a moment to assess his appearance before hooking his sunglasses over his ears. He flashes you a grin and gives you a pat on the shoulder. “That was fun. Thanks, sugar,” he pinched your cheek playfully and strolled to the door. And he was gone.

You shivered, cold and coated in his cum. You cleaned yourself up with quaking hands and eased yourself off the counter. It was only when your knees hit the tiles that your tears truly began to fall. Your legs had given in as you’d tried to climb from where Gojo had left you, and you had sunk slowly to the grimy bathroom floor. Your eyes were ringed in teary fire, and your cheeks were wet with your pain. Once again, you were alone, used and abandoned. Once again, you were left with mending all your shattered selves back together, torn apart by cruel, carefree hands. Your tears dripped onto the tiles beneath you, stained black by mascara and shame. You clenched your fists, fighting back the raw red scream burning in your throat, fighting the urge to throw yourself onto the floor, fighting the need to feel anything but the hollow ache that rattled your chest.

You left the club in a daze, ignoring the stares as you climbed the stairs to your empty apartment. You were numb as you washed the night away, washed him away, wishing that the bleeding love you felt for him could dissolve and disappear from your life like the soapy water down the shower drain.

You got into your bed, your hair still dripping, your eyes still swollen. You perched on your mattress, desperately ignoring the aching expanse of vacant sheets beside you as you checked your phone. A few scoldings from Shoko. A wine recommendation from Nanami. A warning from Utahime to keep strong. Your mother asking if you were ever going to bring a partner home for dinner. And a message from him. A time and place.

Another night. Another club. Another fuck.

You answered.

You were far downtown, where the nightlife met the business district. Just down the street from you, a bar exorcised its last patrons, coughing up clumps of loose-tied businessmen and giggling young women. Toji was right, your slip didn't look too out of place amongst their shimmering skirts and low-cut blouses, but you would never admit that he was correct. Instead you watched as he lit up, shaking your head when he offered you a smoke. Your eyes followed the thick length of his fingers, gaze caught as he brought the cigarette to his mouth and took a drag. Toji looked out into the rain, his profile caught by the neon lights, the pouring wet softening the glow on the sharp angles of his nose and jaw. You shivered, suddenly aware of the creeping goosebumps on your legs. You dropped to a crouch beside Toji, wrapping your arms and his jacket around your knees. You both watched as cars sped past, setting waves of neon rainwater in motion across the glossy asphalt. "Did you sleep with him?" Toji's voice could barely be discerned over the hum of the city. You fought the urge to look at him, knowing that you'd probably see an expression that he wouldn't want to acknowledge. Not disgust, or disappointment, or regret. Just sadness, maybe sympathy. "No, I probably would have. And it would have happened eventually, even inevitably I suppose?" "Eh?" "Gojo was promised children. A child for our sacred lands in Osaka. He didn't tell me if there would be further gifts if we had more children. That was the deal." "Doll, that isn't even a deal. Why would the clan hand over property, when you, a representative of the clan, have a brat?" "Apparently all I want in the whole wide world is to be a stay-at-home mom with lots of babies," you sigh, and tuck your hands underneath your upper arms. "You?" Toji blew out a cloud of smoke and looked down at you. "Me, according to my clan. I think they just asked you Zen'ins what they like in a woman and decided that those were the ideal qualities of a clan-leader's wife. Quiet. Homebody. Submissive. Motherly. Domesticated." "This Zen'in doesn't like that in a woman," Toji's lips twist, "except the submissive bit, that's hot." You smacked at Toji's shin, "I doubt you'd tolerate that outside of the bedroom, old man. Imagine if I just agreed with everything you said?" Toji chuckled out a few billows of smoke, "Nah, that wouldn't be fun." "That wouldn't be me either. I don't think it's wrong to want to have kids, or stay at home, or enjoy being looked after by your lover, but it's just not me, you know?" You glanced up at Toji, who tapped thoughtfully at his chin, "No, it's not. You're too much of a pest," he grinned at you, and earned another hit to the shin. His smile softened, "But I don't think you would be a bad mother, or wife. Six Eyes and his future spawn lost out." You frowned, "Don't act cute, Toji. It doesn't suit you. Now, are you done huffing and puffing, or am I gonna have to stay in these shoes 'til the sun rises?" He rolled his eyes at you, but stubbed his cigarette into the ground. Flicking the butt into a nearby bin, Toji held his hand out to help you up. "There should be some cheap hotels half a block over," You took his offered elbow, but narrowed your eyes at him, "Cheap, you say?" Toji raised a brow at you, "Cheap, as in they'll charge you for drinking anything in the fridge and the room-service is shit. Not cheap as in that one mission where it was healthier to piss in the woods than the toilet." You nodded and smiled, "Just checking. God, do you remember the food we ate there?" The pair of you grumbled back and forth as Toji led you down the street, trying to outdo each other with stories from your worst jobs.

Toji slowed to a stop, "You see, that's what I mean, sweetheart." You let go of his elbow and faced him. He'd been keeping you beneath what cover there was over the sidewalk, but he was slowly getting soaked on one side. His t-shirt clung to the shifting muscles of his bicep, and the street lights picked up the glisten of the rain on his sun-warmed skin. "Hmm?" "You adapt, you know. No matter the shitshow, you make a plan. I think you'd be okay anywhere - including by Six Eyes' side," he looked over your head, into the rain, far from the very real person in front of him. Ah, Gojo was the one person who had ever shaken Toji. His selfhood. His pride. His self-worth. Toji thought he was a fuck-up, but a deadly fuck-up. One that could come out any fight on top, as long as there was a pay check on the other side. But his incident with Gojo had been one of Toji's few moments of contradiction. You were too, probably. Saving damsels from hotel rooms wasn't Toji's style. You took Toji's hand. So large, and warm, despite the rain. You nestled his palm in the cradle of your fingers and ran your thumbs over the top of his hand. You traced all the white slashes and spots, an act of muscle memory in the rainy gloom. "Yea, I could probably be fine with Gojo. Happy, even," Toji's mouth twitched downward, "But that isn't what I want. If I could be happy anywhere, what's stopping me from being happy by your side?" The words fell like fat raindrops onto asphalt, breaking into multitudinous parts, each sparkling, each present in a single heart-stopping moment. You looked at your feet, loosening your grip on Toji so that his arm fell freely to his side. A car-horn blared in the distance.

A hand grabbed the nape of your neck, pulling you forward to crash into Toji's chest. The other arm slung itself around your waist and squeezed your body flush against him, your feet stumbling between his. Toji rested his cheek on your head, his hand still woven into your hair. A deep exhale flowed from his chest, and you softly wrapped your arms around him. "Now who's acting cute, pest?" Toji whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin in a warm wave. "At least it suits me," you quipped, but buried your face deeper into him, breathing in the smell of the rain on his skin, the remnants of that cigarette he smoked, and the scent that was distinctly Toji. His hand at the back your neck slackened, and you shifted your gaze to look into his eyes.

You stared deep into each other, rain kissing at your skin as the wind blew it against you. Drops of water began to form at the ends of Toji's hair, and your night-dress started to cling to your figure. Little splashes of rain decorated your face in a galaxy of neon liquid. Rough lips pressed themselves to your forehead, covering each inch of wet skin as Toji kissed down your temples, to your cheeks, over your nose, and then to your mouth. It was the softest kiss you'd ever received from the man, not only in the gentle caress of his lips against yours, but in the unfathomable look in his eyes. It wasn't like his gossamer teasing, or the passioned brushes of open mouths and hot breaths. You ran your hands up around his neck and gave him a small smile. He kissed you again, pushing your lips to his with the hand on your nape, moving his mouth in slow, rhythmic motions that gave you no option to breathe. His fingers at the back of your head curled through your hair, holding you in place, whilst your own fingers interlocked around his neck.

His tongue glanced over your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to him. Toji flooded your senses, covering his mouth with yours slowly, his tongue slipping across your lips and pushing against your own. He ebbed and flowed into the kiss, overwhelming you with the deft flicks of his tongue and the warm pressure of his lips. The taste of him filled you from your toes to the ends of your hair, the skin cooled by the rain now burning as you clutched onto him. Toji pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down and humming at your breathless whine. When next his tongue entered your mouth you sucked on it, earning a groan and a roll of his hips from your lover. Your knees wobbled, and Toji nudged his thigh between your legs. He almost lifted you onto his leg then, the arm around your waist pulling you tight to his body. Your hips straddled his thickly muscled thigh, and you could feel the rough of Toji's jeans against the plush of the skin peeking from your stockings. Toji overwhelmed you, licking, biting and sucking your lips and tongue to swollen breathlessness. The hand tugging at your hair travelled downwards, rough fingertips trailing over your silken body. He grabbed at the flesh at your hips, his palm large and hot through the thin material of your slip. His hand continued down to your ass. Thick fingers kneaded your skin, and you reflexively bucked your hips up his thigh.

The heat was immediate, lightning coursing up your body as your clothed clit caught against the fabric of his jeans. You gasped, and Toji used the hand on your ass to grind your hips against him again. "Hah - Toji - no," you breathed over his lips, and his green eyes glittered at you in the rain-soaked light. "Why not, babygirl? You shy?" he smirked, nipping and kissing at your jaw. His fingers traced dangerously low, skimming at the hem of your dress, and you shivered at the caress of his calloused touch. God, you craved him. "We're still outside, you fool. People are looking at us!" you rasped, though still clutching at Toji's neck. He looked up and down the low-lit street, eyes zoning in on the few homebound businessmen just behind the pair of you. He stared at them levelly, his body twisted from yours to look behind him at your spectators. And then his mouth was on you, fiercer, hotter. His hand tugged your leg around his thigh and he rocked into you, hard.

The moan you let out was unholy, your mouth falling open to Toji's snaking tongue as he manhandled you against him. Once your leg was hooked over his, Toji tapped it twice. Hold it until I say stop, or reap the consequences, doll. You could feel it in your chest, in the warm flush of your cheeks, in the way that all that held you to the world, to reality, to yourself - was Toji. "Let them watch, pretty thing, let them see who makes you feel this good." He moved you against him, intertwining your bodies in a tangle of clothed heat and moaned gasps. His teeth grazed down your neck, just as his fingers slipped under your dress. Your eyes widened as he trailed his touch over your wet warmth, fingertips grazing your entrance through the cloth of your panties as his thigh worked at your clit. His name came out as a prayer, a plea for salvation, damnation, and forgiveness all at once. The rain began to come down heavily, and your spectators disappeared into the blur of water and the burning pleasure coursing through your veins.

A single finger snapped at the seam of your underwear, and your cunt clenched, your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of Toji entering you. A low chuckle echoed in your ear, "Look at you. All hot and bothered and so fucking wet. Whilst you run that pretty mouth about people seeing, your slutty little pussy wants nothing more than for me to fuck you stupid, huh? You want that, babygirl? You want me to fuck you in front of these people?" Toji whispered along your jaw, his finger teasing your entrance. You shuddered, and shook your head. His other hand wound its way up to squeeze your jaw between his thumb and forefinger. "What's that, doll? I didn't hear you. You gotta tell me what you want, else I might just bend you over and take you right here, right now, where everyone can see and hear how much of a whore you are for me, hmm. You want that, princess?" He looked you steadily in the eye, suddenly large, and threatening, and you wanted him. "Please don't, Toji. I'm yours. Yours only. Why should they get to see what should be for your eyes only?" That was apparently the right thing to say, as Toji gripped your waist and threw you over his shoulder, laughing as you yelped and desperately tried to hold your skirt down.

You heard rather than saw a set of sliding doors open, and the rain that had previously soaked your back ceased. Toji turned you the right way up, steadying you as you regained your footing. You stood in the lobby of a small hotel, dripping onto a scuffed and soaked mat at the entrance. A bored-looking receptionist glanced at the pair of you over the top of their desk, and a clipboard clattered onto the plastic surface.

Toji gave your shoulder a squeeze and sauntered to the desk, murmuring to the receptionist and scribbling your (fake) names into their registry. A few bank notes made their way across the desk and within five minutes Toji was guiding you to the lift with a set of keys jingling in his hand. He held you flush to his chest as you rode the elevator, punching the floor number in as you entered and busying himself with lazily kissing you. The lift rattled as it stopped, and Toji's lips chased yours as you turned to exit. You stepped into a corridor of tired carpet and old (genuine) wooden doors. The heavy hand at the small of your back, beneath his jacket, led you to the door at the end of the passage.

You fumbled inside, grabbing at the straps of your shoes and tugging until they were loose enough to be thrown off. You heard Toji feel along the wall to turn on the lights, and was struck dumb at the soft golden glow that lit up a large, clean, white bed in a fairly decent room overlooking downtown Tokyo. A plush sofa sat at the bottom of the bed and a door just off the room led to a big bathroom with, much to your delight, a porcelain claw bathtub. "Toji? This is too nice," you craned your head to look at him, still doubled over as you struggled with a shoe. Toji humphed at you and swatted at your backside as he toed off his battered work boots. "Is that all you gotta say to me, pest? No 'Thank you'?" he grumbled, peeling his drenched shirt from his torso and throwing himself onto the couch and the shirt to the floor. You shrugged his jacket from your shoulders and hung it behind the door, wrapping your arms around yourself against the chill biting at your skin. "Well, thank you, but this isn't our normal." Toji crooked his finger at you and you shuffled over to stand between his knees. "Is there something wrong with wanting to treat my girl?" your cheeks grew warm, and Toji winked at you, "Plus this was an upgrade." You tilted your head and Toji waved his left hand in front of you, his crooked grin large. He was wearing Gojo's wedding ring. "Happy honeymoon," Toji smirked, and you buried your face in your hands. This idiot. "Toji! I hope that thing comes off. How did you even get it to fit in the first place?" You took his hand in yours, examining the band that sat tightly just below the second knuckle of Toji's ring finger. "Rain and spite," Toji pulled his hand from you and smiled, "open wide, princess." He slid the finger into your mouth and you tasted the rain on his skin. Toji watched you, his eyelids low and pupils dilating, "You gonna help take this thing off, doll?" You nodded around his finger, running your tongue around the smooth metal and setting your teeth over the band. With a few gentle tugs and twists of his wrist, Toji's finger popped free from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting his hand to your lips. You dropped the ring into Toji's open palm before removing your engagement ring and wedding ring and gathering the last few remnants of your stillborn marriage in the hands of your lover. Toji leaned over and dropped them onto the small table beside the couch. You struggled to tear your gaze from the little stack of diamonds and broken vows, sparkling so indecently in the gold light.

"Look at me." Your skin prickled. Your eyes met Toji's. He shifted on the couch, spreading his legs wider on either side of you, one arm behind his head and the other hand resting on his abdomen. "You're looking cold, princess. Take off your dress." "Yes, Toji," you shimmied the wet clothing over your head, tossing it aside and standing before him, hands behind your back and your gaze steady. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you, sweetheart?" Toji unbuckled his belt, winding the worn leather around his hand and putting the rolled up belt to one side. His eyes never left yours as he popped the button of his pants, undid his zip and shucked off his jeans with his socks. He ran his hand over his clothed cock, already half hard. "How will I be punished?" Even though you were the one standing, you felt tiny between Toji's thighs and beneath his gaze. He pushed his soaked hair back and out of his eyes, "That's a good question, babygirl. Do you know why you should get punished?" You nodded. "What did you do?" "I kissed someone else, and let them touch me." Toji laughed then, shifting to lean his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, "And getting married to another guy isn't worth punishment?" You shook your head, nibbling at your lower lip, "No. I wasn't given a choice." Toji nodded slowly, "I know that, princess. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt, hmm?" "It hurt me too." "Of course it did, pretty thing. That's why I'm not gonna punish you." You frowned as Toji wrapped his arms around your upper thighs. "Toji? Wha-?" you whimpered as Toji scooped you up and onto his lap, straddling his thighs. "I'm just gonna fuck you my way, yeah? That sounds fair, doesn't it?" he ran his fingertips over the skin between your garter belt and the hem of your underwear, smiling at how your abdominals clenched and twitched at his featherlight touches. "Yes, Toji." You held yourself over him, stock still, eyes expectant. "That's my princess. You gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?" he ran his forefinger up your neck to below your chin, his smirk growing as you nodded. "Yes, Toji." "You only call me by that name tonight. No 'sir', no 'master'. The only word left in your little fucked out brain should be my name, you got that?" you nodded, and Toji grinned, "Now, you're gonna get this sweet little pussy all nice and wet for me and hump me like the slut you are."

You lowered your hips over Toji's, breath hitching as he bucked up into you playfully. He leaned back against the top of the couch, eyes mere slits as he watched you settle onto him. You started slow, wary of overstimulation, just rocking your clit over his length. You let out a pathetic moan at the immediate burn at your core, only getting louder as you increased pressure against Toji's now hard cock. The burn grew as you grinded against Toji, and you felt your slick flow, hot and tart in your underwear. "Come on, babygirl, you can work a little harder than that," Toji reached out, cupping a breast in his hand. He squeezed gently over the material, waiting for you to obey. You planted your palms onto his chest, fingers dug into the firm muscle of his pectorals. You dropped your heat onto his cock and rolled your hips along the entirely of his length, hissing at the repeated friction burning at your clit. You moved faster, letting out soft moans with each rocking motion, imagining the thick heaviness of Toji inside you, the fullness of your stuffed cunt and the ceaseless pleasure of watching him drive you down onto his cock. Your pussy clenched as Toji pinched and twisted your nipple, using both hands to knead at the flesh of the one breast whilst he played with the other's nipple. "Atta girl, getting all messy before I even fuck you." That spurred you on further, ignoring the slight pain of your overstimulated clit as you soaked through your underwear. You could feel that peak forming in the depths of your stomach, a promise of a heavenly fall to come. You levered yourself using Toji's chest, lightly coasting your clit over him as your panties clung to your swollen folds and drenched cunt. You paused, merely to readjust, but Toji grabbed your hip. He traced the elastic of your underwear downwards, letting out a low groans as his fingertips gathered the juices leaking out the garment.

"Good girl. You listen so well, huh, princess? You'd just do whatever I asked, wouldn't you? Get on your knees for me, sweetheart," Toji lapped at his wet fingers, before helping you off his lap and onto the floor. He slipped forward on the couch, grabbing at the waistband at his now-damp briefs and pulling his underwear off. His cock jolted free, dark and throbbing. You sat back onto your heels, watching Toji palm his length lazily before taking it in his hand. You tried to reach for him, but he slapped your cheek with his cock. "No touching." Hands behind your back, you dropped your jaw and let Toji guide himself onto your tongue. He tasted of sweat and salty precum, and weighed heavy on your tongue as you moved your mouth over him. You stopped just before the point where your throat would clench and you would cry as you choked. You swirled your tongue along him as you withdrew, tracing the head of his cock with the tip of your tongue. You paid special attention to the edge of his tip, humming over him as you heard him inhale sharply. You lapped over his slit, sucking as you took him back down your throat. Toji hissed, and you felt the cold drip of your own arousal slip down onto the hotel carpet. Toji threaded his fingers through the hair at your scalp, resting his hand there in reminder of who was in control. Control you readily handed over. How could you not? You trusted Toji with your life, with your body, and your heart.

You took him deeper, just where your throat caught him and back. And again, again, picking up the pace, leaving his cock glistening in the light from your saliva. You could feel drool running down your chin and Toji's grip on your hair tightened. "Fuck, princess - you look so pretty with your mouth on my cock - you know that, doll?" He tugged at your roots and you groaned around him, teeth slightly grazing his head as he grunted. You peered up at him through damp lashes. His abs seethed below the tight skin of his stomach, muscles tensing and releasing as his cock jumped and twitched in your mouth. You sucked over his slit, watching his eyes squeeze shut and swallowing down the salt of his precum. Those green eyes glittered at you through lowered lids, his chapped lips slightly parted, chest rising heavily. You closed your eyes, flattening your tongue and willing your throat to relax. You brought one of your arms to Toji's thigh, your fingers waving aimlessly in the general direction of his free hand. Toji let out a groan, weaving his fingers with yours and giving it a single squeeze. Yes. You responded with a squeeze of your own and Toji took over. Thick fingers intertwined themselves into your hair and guided your head ‘til only his cockhead rested on your tongue. The first thrust was always the worst for you, and the best for him. The way your mouth clenched around him, hot and tight; the way you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his cock. Toji started slow, fucking your throat with intermittent squeezes to your hand, adoring the way tears trickled down your cheeks despite your responding squeezes - that you were fine, despite the mess you became. He sped up, grunts and groans replaced by low pants and mumbled praise that went straight to your pussy. "Fuck - doll. Look at you - my pretty little whore - huh? So precious, such a good girl - hah - with my cock down her throat." Saliva dribbled down your chin in a shining cascade, tears running streaks down your flushed cheeks with whatever mascara was left on your eyelashes, your own chest heaving as you desperately fought to breathe through your nose, you gave into Toji. His thrusts became erratic, his hips twitching as he fucked into you. "I'm gonna - fuck - gonna cum, babygirl." Toji came with a muttered curse, his cock twitching in your mouth as he held himself deep in your throat. He was hot, both sweet and salty, and you took it all.

He pulled out with a hiss, his fingers grabbing your lower jaw and keeping your mouth open. You stuck out your tongue, licking over your lips playfully before swallowing Toji down, never breaking eye-contact. "Good girl. I don't even have to ask any more," Toji swiped at your tears with his thumb and brought the digit to his mouth to lick off the salty liquid. He leaned forward to put his elbows onto his knees as you sat back onto your heels. He lifted your chin with the knuckles of his forefinger and asked, "Do you think I should forgive you, pretty thing? Do you think you can be loyal to me, babygirl?" You shuddered. Loyalty. "Of course, Toji. I'm yours." He hummed, "And should I forgive you?" You frown, "Please. It won't ever happen again." "You're damn right it won't," Toji grumbled, more to himself than you, then, "Swear on it, princess, just for me." You let go of his hand to trace the tattoo below your left breast, over your heart. A cross over a gravestone, over your shared vows. "Good girl, come here - " Toji stood, lifting you upright with his hands around your ribcage. He sat you on the bed, leaning over to kiss you with his knee between your thighs.

The kiss was slow, and sloppy, Toji licking deep into your mouth, tasting himself and nibbling your lower lip. "Good girls get rewarded, yeah? Tell me, doll, how would you like to get spoiled?" Toji ran his lips along your jaw, leaving soft, wet kisses as his hands traversed your body, grabbing, kneading, bruising. He began to suck on your neck, just below your ear, and you whined. "Hmm? What's it gonna be, sweetheart?" Toji bit down, smirking as your back arched for him. He grasped at your breast, teasing and pinching your nipple through your bra. You squirmed, wrestling your arms from around Toji to reach behind your back. You grappled with the clasp of your bra. "You want this off?" you nodded, "You shoulda asked, babygirl. What if I wanted you to keep it on? Or do you want me to play with these pretty tits?" Toji's fingers closed over yours, deftly undoing the clasp and helping you out of the bra. It went flying off into the room. Toji now knelt fully on the bed between your legs, the muscles of his thighs thick and shifting as he sat back on his haunches. His cock was already half-hard again.

He trailed his fingers up your calves and to your thighs, pinching the flesh that from the top of your tights. "Please -" you breathed when his thumbs began to rub circles along your inner thighs. "Please what, babygirl?" "Please touch me, Toji," you raised your knees, showing him the dark slick of your arousal on your panties, "Please play with me," you mumbled, turning your head away. You felt Toji's weight settle over you, one of his elbows beside your face. "You're always such a polite little thing. So sweet. Been like that since we first fucked, y'know? All little 'pleases' and 'thank-yous', aren't you?" Toji pulled your chin to face him and kissed you again. Hard. His tongue pushed roughly against yours, moving your mouth into a clash of teeth and pants and moans. Your hands found his hair, lightly tugging at his roots when he bit down on your lower lip. He moved to your neck and collarbones, covering your skin in marks and kisses. His hand began to knead at a bare breast, his thumb running slow but tight circles around your nipple. His mouth covered the other tit, giving it an open-mouthed bite that fell into a messy kiss as he sucked your nipple hard past his teeth. "Hah - Toji -" you arched into his mouth. He chuckled along your skin and switched to the other breast. He sucked and played until a mess of your sweat and his saliva trickled between your tits, and every breathed word over your chest had you shivering in waves of gooseflesh and heaving pants. Toji marked his way down your stomach, biting and carving his love into your skin as darkening blooms and teeth-marks. He snapped off the garter belt with a satisfied hum, unhooking it from your tights and flinging it behind him. He rumbled into the dip where your hip reached your leg, running his tongue just below the hem of your underwear. You shuddered and whined, "Please - please - please - hng - Toji - " you bucked your hips, needy, empty. "Ssh, patience, princess," Toji nipped at your hip in warning, "Play with your tits for me.” You nodded, fingertips lightly, softly, delicately teasing your nipples, your touch gentle whilst Toji shifted himself down the bed.

A rough thumb across your clit caught you in gasped cry, the low burn in your stomach flaring into fire as Toji ran his finger over your slit. "So wet, hmm? Bet you'd just take me right now, wouldn't you?" Toji mused, hooking his thick fingers into the hem of your underwear and pulling the soaked garment down your legs. He leaned his cheek against one of your thighs and blew onto your cunt, letting out a low laugh at how you squirmed and wriggled, trying to get away, yet so fucking desperate to stay. His fingers ran down your folds, and Toji held up his hand to show you the strands of your arousal strung between his parted digits. He made a show of licking off his fingers, never breaking eye contact until his hand was back on you. He swirled his thumb over your clit, humming at how you twitched and whimpered. He laid his forearm over your hips, clamping your hips in place at he began to pleasure you in earnest. Deft fingers, now wet, teased your entrance, whilst his thumb carried its ministrations. Simple circles over your clit that had you tingling and cunt clenching. With each swipe, a jolt of burning electricity moved through you, forming layer over layer of foggy warmth in your head. A single finger dipped into you and you gasped. Toji hissed as your wet velvet walls tightened around him, already drawing pleasure from the intrusion. You felt him move deeper, working away at your tension to get into your tight heat. His thumb sped up, increasing pressure as he withdrew his finger, only to plunge it back into you. Your hips jumped up to meet him, and the hand holding them down gave your thigh a hard slap. "You playing whore, hah? Tryna fuck yourself on my fingers? Don't think I can't feel you tightening when I slap you. You enjoy this, don't you? Little slut." A second finger joined the first - a tight burn surging up your walls, followed by the warmth of being filled, of having your cunt stretched out. Toji brushed up against the spongy spot within your walls, grinning when you moaned and whined when he teasingly ignored it as he flicked his wrist back into your warmth He began to scissor his fingers, alternating with reaching your g-spot and causing your walls to clench. Toji nibbled along your exposed thigh, sucking dark hickeys over the marks he'd left before. You began to build, the waves of heat washing over you with each thrust of Toji's fingers into your needy cunt. The sound of your wet arousal and moaned iterations of Toji's name filled the room. He could see you reaching, in how your muscles quivered and your pussy gripped on him. He dove in, placing a sloppy kiss over your clit before tracing his tongue over the sensitive nerves. "Fuck!" You yelped, jolting, the combined low buzz in your cunt from Toji's expert fingers and the screaming heat of his mouth over your clit sending you higher and higher until tremors began to shudder through your body. "You gonna cum, sweetheart? You gonna cum on my tongue?" Toji rumbled against your clit, his eyes catching you over your rising chest - green and greedy. "Please, please let me cum." Toji sucked on your clit, hard and the wave broke. Bright white echoed out from your core, your voice catching in a babble of curses, moans and Toji's name. The man between your legs never let his mouth leave your pulsing cunt, lapping, licking and drowning in all you gave, his fingers slowing to fuck you down from your high.

"That good, princess?" Toji released you, cleaning his slick-coated chin and fingers with his tongue. He moved over you, knuckles running up your jaw as he kissed you. You keened at the taste of yourself. "Thank you, Toji," you mumbled against his lips and he nipped you. "You ready for me?" Toji shifted back, grabbing your hips and flipping you over onto your stomach. He wrapped an arm around your stomach and pulled you to your knees. You dropped to your forearms, arching your back, pussy on full display. "God, babygirl, look at you. Such a good little slut for me, hmm?" You shuddered as he ran his length along your folds, the tip of his cock catching on your clit and sending further bolts of electricity to your core. But you were needy, desperate to be filled, too empty now that his fingers weren't knuckle deep inside of you. As Toji ran his cockhead over your entrance you fucked yourself onto him, sighing in relief at that first vicious stretch to your cunt. Toji grunted, and your ass burned as he brought his palm across the skin. "Don't get greedy, whore, else the only one cumming again tonight will be me." Toji's chest crowded over you, and you hissed as he shifted another thick inch deeper into you. "Yes, Toji," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut in an effort to keep yourself still for him. Toji froze, and then - he bottomed out in a single thrust, nearly tipping you forward. Toji grunted, right by your ear, "Fuck, you're tight, doll."

Toji pulled back slowly, lifting his chest and holding onto your hips by handfuls of bruising flesh. He started, and your arms bolted forward, grabbing onto something, sheets, anything, to keep yourself from being shoved face first into the mattress. His hips snapped into you with heavy slaps, his cock piercing you deep and hard as he fucked into you like an animal. You settled into his rhythm, pushing back on your palms onto his length, moaning as Toji cursed. You could already feel the heat in your stomach begin to build, your cunt closing down onto Toji with every short thrust. Thick fingers wound themselves into your hair and Toji tugged you upright as he sat back onto his haunches. "Come on, sweetheart, fuck yourself onto my cock," he commanded. You complied, bouncing yourself back onto him, an arm reaching behind you to grip onto the back of Toji's neck. He wrapped his fingers around your throat, and the slight pressure of his fingers had your eyes rolling back in a warm haze. You were close, your thighs trembling as you rose and fell, the heat of your core now setting every inch of your body alight. "Toji, I'm - I'm gonna cum," you panted, and with his one hand still on your hip, Toji began to force you deeper onto his cock. "That's it. There's a good girl. Cum on my cock for me, princess," Toji licked a strip of hot skin behind your ear, the hand on your hip snaking around to pinch and circle your clit. With a few hard thrusts and the rough swipe of Toji's thumb you unraveled. Fireworks of white heat filled your abdomen, only made more intense by the dizzy haze from Toji's hand around your neck. You could feel fat tears run down your cheeks as you orgasmed, and aftershocks rippling throughout your limbs.

Toji fucked you through the high, his own hips jolting hard and fast into you, his abdominals tensing and flexing as he neared his own peak. Sharp canine teeth dug into your neck as Toji buried himself deep into your cunt, his warm cum filling your insides with white.

Panting, skins glistening with sex, sweat and tears, you and Toji sat - his face buried in the crook of your neck, your head resting onto the muscled shoulder behind you. You could still feel him twitching inside you, could feel your fluids leaking from you on his lap, could feel the solid thud of his heart against your back. He was real. You were real. You were together, joined. The mark below his heart reflected yours.

You began to pull yourself off him, the pair of you wincing as you separated and you spilled out onto the coverlet. You swung your legs out in front of you and began to fumble to the edge of the bed. You felt rather than saw Toji get off the bed, the mattress sinking and rising as he walked off into the bathroom. Your limbs still trembled, and the ground didn't look as stable as it usually did. The sound of running water filled the suite, and large arms lifted you from your perch with ease. Toji helped you settle into the bath he was running, before disappearing and returning with a bottle of water. "I thought we'd get charged for this?" you asked as you drank from the offered bottle. Toji shrugged before finishing the bottle off. As he clambered into the bath, "I'll go out and buy a replacement tomorrow. I've also gotta get you something to wear." You fought back the giggle that threatened to bubble up. The sight of Toji - renowned sorcerer killer - with his knees around his ears, back hunched as he tried to fit himself into the bathtub was something you wished you could keep into your memory forever. "What you smiling at, pest? You ain't never seen a man take a bath before?" Toji faked offense, grabbing a bottle of bubble bath and emptying a bit into the water. You tilted your head. "I have, just not you. And why can't I smile? I'm happy." Toji fiddled with the taps for a moment before leaning back against the side of the tub. "Is that so? You're happy to be stuck with an old criminal like me?" You hummed, reaching out for Toji's hand. "Forever, if you'll have me." Toji tugged you toward him, lifting you slightly out the water to stretch out his legs and drop you between his thighs, back to his chest. He pulled your hand, palm up, to his face and kissed it. "No shit, pest. I didn't get this vow tattooed onto my chest for nothing." You sighed into him, basking in his warmth, in the feel of his lips on your neck and shoulders. "Well good luck getting rid of me now. You've made a criminal out of me, Toji. We're officially partners." "Doll, you've always been my partner. "

 THE AFTERMATH

"We've got to get moving, the plane leaves at eleven." His only response was a muffled moan beneath a heap of blankets. "Look, Gojo," Nanami started, "I don't care whether you and your wife fought or not, but I do care whether or not you get on that plane. I've been looking forward to the peace and quiet of you being away for the last decade and a half of my life, and your little marital dispute is not going to disturb my holiday away from you. Now move it. Go fetch your wife and get on that plane." Gojo peeked out from beneath the covers, his eyes bloodshot and shirt crumpled from a night spent on Nanami’s hijacked bed. “But Nanamiiiin-“ “But nothing. Move!”

The world’s strongest sorcerer stood in an empty hotel suite, skylight eyes wide and his jaw slack. You were gone. Leaving nothing but a torn-up wedding dress and a pile of hairpins. Gojo sighed, sliding off his dark glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He glanced back to the hotel phone stand, and the note that jeered at him from across the room.

Thanks for the other wedding band, Six Eyes. They’re easier to sell as a set. As for your wife, don’t bother her or her mother. You won’t find either. Think of this as revenge for ’06.

Just that, and an illegible excuse for a signature. And no wife.