reading all of sylus' fics about him spoiling reader rotten, and while i like it very much, i just thought about an opposite scenario where reader doesn't feel at all guilty about spending money, it just that you don't need to.
Sylus wants you to buy a bunch of perfumes from your favourite brand, and you refuse saying "i will just forget about them"
Sylus wants to buy some expensive jewellery for you, and you shut him down with your very specific taste that happens to not apply widely.
Sylus wants to buy clothes for you, and you just raise your eyebrows at him "Is this made of gold or something ? The price is ridiculous!"
Sylus wants to buy merch from a show or an artist that he noticed you liked, and you mumble something about not liking it that much to want to see their faces in your room and creeping you out a night.
Until one day he finally receives that long awaited notification that his card was used, and he smirks, thinking that you had finally given into buying something expensive, only to discover it wasn't even for you !
"Oh yeah, some prick was yelling about how i spilled coffee on his suit, even though he bumped into me, so i gave him money to shut him up"
He's staring at you, half amused at your usage of his wealth, and before he can come up with something to tease you, you add "the privilege of throwing money at your problems is truly something" and he can't stop laughing
When Zayne had asked for complete silence while he made a few phone calls, you figured he wanted you outside the room.
You never in a million years would have pictured this.
"Mhm!" You whimper quietly around the tie in your mouth, tears running down your face. You're sitting in his lap, sheathed on his cock, while he presses a vibrator against your clit almost absentmindly. He'd made you cum three times already, and it's clear this isn't over until all his calls are.
"Yes, I understand that. I still believe my method would be better." The stern tone of his voice makes you clench, even if you aren't the recipient. His eyes flick over to you, balancing the phone between his shoulder to free his hand, pulling out the tie and replacing it with two of his fingers.
Evil bastard.
You suck on them with wide eyes, gagging a little when he pushes deeper with an almost curiosity in his eyes.
"Apologies, but something has come up. I'll speak to you on Monday." The moment the call disconnects, he switches the vibrator to a higher intensity.
"Z-Zayne!" You nearly scream, the word coming out garbled around his fingers. He pulls them out, trailing his saliva-coated hand down to your chest, pinching your nipple almost out of boredom.
"You did a good job being quiet...do you think you deserve a reward?" He circles the vibrator in brutal circles, watching you whimper as you cum once more, pleasure burning through you.
"Y-yes. Yes please I-I'm being good can I please...please have a reward?"
"I don't see why not. How about you cum a few more times? Does that sound good?"
a/n: hey guys sorry for not being active i’m procrastinating writing part two so bad so take some hcs as i pass the time at the doctors. enjin stinks so good🤤
a/n2: i wanna write more of these and may have an aizawa one cooking up in my head, lmk who you guys might wanna see!!!
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Enjin is the type to whisk you away after a mission to take a big nap, putting off any reports he may have to write: “thanks Semiu!” he’ll say in passing, not even bothering to listen to the line of curses shouting at him from the reception desk.
Enjin is the type to pull you right on top of him when you guys hit the bed, wrapping his arms around you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He will ALWAYS be touching you somehow, whether it’s hands gripping your waist, or using you like a personal pillow.
Enjin is the type to move in his sleep, and will take up as much space as possible. If you’re a light sleeper, don’t expect the most restful sleep since he’ll constantly be moving and snoring. Some nights you’ll wake up to half his body on top of yours, his entire body, or his limbs are in a weird position and he’s latched onto you like a koala.
Enjin is the type to be the deepest sleeper possible; he could fall off your bed and still somehow not wake up. It took you basically screaming right in his ear to stir him.
Enjin is the type to make sure you’ve fallen asleep before he does, just to be safe. He can never seem to let go of the lingering fear of not being able to protect someone he loves when it matters most.
Caleb had been begging you for weeks to be rough with him. He was practically pleading you to be mean to him, something you had been too shy to do. But his birthday was only minutes away, and tonight you had decided to be brave. You were going to gift him exactly what he had been asking for so fervently.
You were riding him slowly at first, savoring the stretch of his cock deep inside you, already teetering on the edge of your own orgasm. Caleb’s hands gripped your hips, his breath ragged as he looked up at you with dark, needy eyes.
You leaned down and kissed him fiercely, biting his lower lip until he hissed. Then you sat back up, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you began to ride him faster. The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, accompanied by his moans. His eyes were half-lidded, his cheeks flushed, and his usual charming smile had been replaced by raw desperation. “Fuck yes, just like—”
You glanced at the clock: 00:00. Your hand moved before you could second-guess yourself. The slap cracked across his face, sharp and stinging, snapping his head to the side. A red mark bloomed on his cheek instantly.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. You panicked. “Was it too much? Caleb, I’m s—”
Then, his cock twitched violently inside you. A broken, guttural sound tore from his throat as his entire body seized. His hips jerked up as he buried himself deeper, coming hard, pulsing thick and hot deep inside you. The orgasm seemed to drag on forever; his abs clenched, his hands strained against your hips and waist, and his mouth fell open in shocked pleasure.
You watched, stunned and aroused, as he trembled through the aftershocks, his eyes glassy.
“Shit…” he finally gasped, a dazed, blissful laugh escaping him. “Did you just—?”
“Happy birthday,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with a newfound confidence. You traced the bright red mark on his cheek with your thumb, your skin still buzzing from the contact. Seeing your own handprint on his skin sent a fresh, sharp jolt of electricity straight to your core. You looked down at him, your heart hammering against your ribs, still feeling shy but emboldened by his reaction. “Did you… did you like it?”
Caleb didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze darkened, shifting to a predatory intensity that made your breath catch. Before you could process the look in his eyes, he flipped you beneath him in one smooth motion and hovered over you.
He captured your lips in a bruising, possessive kiss. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven.
“Like it? I’ve never come faster in my life” he rasped, his voice vibrating through your own chest.
He didn't give you time to recover. He shifted his weight, thrusting into you with a force that made you cry out.
“Do it again,” he whispered against your lips, his voice dropping into a low, commanding growl. “Harder.”
₊꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶₊
happy birthday caleb, I love you. I wish I could slap you ♡
grinding on caleb's bulge, giggling at his pretty face as it turns redder and redder...heehee
he's begging you to take his pants of already, but you're enjoying dryhumping him too much at the moment and want to engrave the face he's making into your brain
"fuck...i can't-"
not even 3 minutes in and he had already came inside his underwear, his face flushed from embarrassment and arousal as whines escape his damp lips
you kiss his cheek and tell him what a good boy he is <3
tojis sweet wife makes shiu a bit too jealous... ♡ (hubby toji x chubby!wife reader)
tojji is leaned back on the couch with one leg stretched out, elbow resting on the armrest like he owns the air in the room while shiu stands near the kitchen counter going through something on his phone with the expression of a man already regretting showing up.
"you really gonna sit there and tell me thats the cut," shiu says, not even looking up.
tojii clicks his tongue. "aint no tellin. it is the cut."
shiu sighs, already having had enough of toji. the damn guy was too stubborn. but before he can respond, the bedroom door opens.
you shuffle out first, all soft and sweet in your house clothes, smiling softly at both of the men. you spot toji immediately and your whole face changes, expression melting into something warm and familiar.
"..hello," you mumble quietly. your voice is quiet, sweet, still thick with sleep. tojis entire posture changes instantly like someone just reached over and rewired him.
"baby," he rasps.
his shoulders drop a fraction, jaw unclenching, eyes flicking over to you like youre the only thing in the apartment that matters. the scowl doesnt disappear completely, it never does, but it turns lazy.
"sleepin all day again," he mutters, but theres no real bite in it.
you ignore that completely and pad straight over, bare feet quiet against the floor, stopping right in front of him like its second nature. your hands come up immediately, smoothing down the front of his wrinkled t shirt.
after that, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his temple. toji exhales through his nose, something almost pleased passing over his face for half a second before he settles back again, letting you fuss over him without complaint.
tojis hand tightened at your waist immediately, and before you could step back he shifted in his chair, tilting his head slightly toward you as if deciding something without saying it. his grip guided you closer, and then he pulled you down and gave you one of those big fat kisses he loves.
he held you there between his hands while he kissed you properly, calm and heavy and entirely unconcerned with the fact that this was happening in front of an audience, his eyes flicked over to shiu, definetly showing off his wife, giving shiu a look that says 'yeah, look at her. thats my wife.'
when he finally pulled back, it was only by a fraction, your face still close, his thumb brushing once at your cheek like he was finishing something he started.
shiu watched all of this in silence, giving toji a flat look. you finally glance over at shiu, polite as ever even though you lowkey just made out with your husband in front of his best friend.
"hi," you say softly, and shiu nods once. "morning," he replies.
you stay there a second longer, then gently pat tojis chest like youre confirming hes still in one piece before shifting away again, drifting back toward the hallway.
"would you like some tea?" you ask, voice still gentle, shiu opens his mouth, but youre already gone again, disappearing toward the kitchen like you werent just the center of attention for a whole minute.
shiu slowly turns his head toward toji, and toji is still leaning back, looking way too comfortable for a man who was just arguing about money five seconds ago, one hand loosely hanging over the armrest like nothing in the world could possibly stress him out right now.
shiu stares at him for a beat longer and then exhales through his nose.
"youre a lucky bastard,” he mutters.
tojis mouth twitches like hes been waiting for that exact sentence his whole life.
"i know," he says simply, stretching slightly like hes got nowhere to be and all the time in the world. "aint she cute?"
caleb can be a bit unhinged. especially when it comes to you.. and his ‘tomodachi life’ island.
he only started playing in secret when you showed him your own island. all your miis ranging from your close friends to movie characters, he found it sweet that it was your favorite past time. what really sparked his interest was when you said: “i hope your mii falls in love with my mii. we can get married and have kids.”
now, he’s obsessed with your mii on his island. he feeds mii you every day, afternoon, and night. when his island leveled up, he made sure he built you a tiny private island where your colorful house stood surrounded by water and plenty of flowers. he buys you clothes from where & wear everyday and has you both take endless pics at foto-tomo!
caleb also makes sure your mii interacts with nobody else’s but his. dragging his mii across the island just to talk to you. and he absolutely hates it when he comes back just to see you’ve reached the ‘seems like-minded’ phase with anyone else who roams the island.
“gideon? are you fucking serious, man? why are you talking to her?” he growls to himself, the switch lighting up his face in the darkness of his bedroom. he presses delete, watching gideon’s mii disappear before he remakes his close friend and making sure you and anyone else on the island remain as ‘strangers.’
Enjin embarrassing himself by his pants falling down in front of you.
He just finished a job with you. It was the first time you both were alone on a job together and he was HELLA showing off. Like, it’s bad. He pulled out all the cool moves and tried to make sure you didn’t have to do a lot. Then, at the end, as he’s trying to aura farm and look cool while posing as a trash beast disintegrates behind him, his fucking pants fall down. He hadn’t realized that something broke his belt while fighting.
You try your best to not laugh. You really go the full nine yards; eyes closed, biting your lips together, covering your mouth with your hands, looking away. None of it helps. The image of him with his pants around his ankles and his white briefs in the middle of the battle field is just too funny. Not even the fact that he had a really hot happy trail could save him right now. The laugh comes out of you despite your efforts.
“Don’t laugh!” He yells, already holding his pants back up.
“I can’t help it! That was genuinely perfect timing!"
“You’re too mean to me, boo.” He complains. Once he is close enough, his hands are already reaching for your waist.
“Hey! Wait! I need that!” The belt was slid free from your belt loops.
“Not more than me. Besides, it would just be hot if your pants fell off.” Once the belt was secure on him, he got into the car. “Get in or I’m leaving you!” The ride was silent as he sat with his embarrassment. It was only when you got to HQ that he said something.
“Not a single word about this to anyone.” The two of you just stared at each other for a second before you flung your door open and started running. After all, he was much faster than you so you needed as much of a head start as possible. He quickly followed, desperate to keep your mouth shut about this entire thing.
these men will send you straight to pound town– no buts, no warnings, no room to escape. they can slow down only if you beg them to, but they'd rather not. they'll be rough, clapping your ass with no mercy.
toji is the type to fuck you in the air, by leaning you on the wall, or just by literally standing anywhere.
he is not one for patience or gentle switching of positions and prefers to take you where you are, turning any ordinary space into his playground. whether he pins you against the wall, hoists you up mid-air, or simply positions himself wherever you happen to be, he takes control of the entire space with absolute ease.
he favors it the most when you're completely lifted up by the ass, cradling your weight as if you weigh nothing at all. with this position, he has complete leeway and leniency to unleash every ounce of his raw speed and unrelenting roughness. not to mention, he has terrifying and inhuman core strength and stamina, he can fuck you for hours on end without a single sign of fatigue. his arms and legs never tremble, pounding away until you are thoroughly breathless and aching.
he loves it when you're held in his arms, he feels that it strips away all your defenses. loving the sheer helplessness of your face, watching you turn into a drooling mess, clinging desperately to his neck. with a bruising, vice-like grip, he'd hold onto your bare ass cheeks, dictating every single rhythm, bucking his hips upward to meet you, aggressively guiding your body down onto his length, leaving you entirely at the mercy of his relentless pace and control.
where would he cum? inside you.
sukuna is really aggressive, the type to push your head down on the mattress until you're fucked dumb.
sukuna has a fixation on pounding you from behind, revealing an unapologetic obsession with your body from that angle. seeing your bare back, your ass dribbling below his own bare skin, your pathetic side profile coming to glance at him from down below as he keeps up with the constant pace. to him, your bare back is nothing less than an untouched canvas waiting to be aggressively claimed and slowly ruined with evidence of his dominance. the moment his eyes traces the protruding line of your shoulder blades and the vulnerable expanse of skin beneath them unmarked and blank, it acts as an immediate trigger. you'll instantly feel his sharp teeth sinking deep into your flesh, biting and sucking harshly while his hips hammer into you.
and of course, his backshots aren't complete without ensuring either your face is roughly shoved down into the mattress or a handful of your hair is clenched in his fist, yanking your head back until you are forced to meet his predatory eyes. looking down into your glossy gaze while he buries himself deep inside you pushes him straight to the edge of berserk, completely intoxicated by the sight of your total submission and your silent willingness to let him tear your hole apart.
where would he cum? on your lower back or across your spine.
naoya makes you ride him first like the petty piece of shit he is, but when it's his turn to move– expect that you won't be able to get the slightest inaudible sound out of your mouth.
he absolutely relishes at the sight of you riding him, wearing that infuriating, dumb smirk as your movements grow increasingly shaky and unstable from pumping yourself up and down on his length. he waits, a calculated precinct where you finally settle above him, utterly exhausted and panting, lured into a false sense of security where you expect no sudden movements. he waits and waits until he sees you won't even have any leverage or strength left to stop him. that precise moment of vulnerability is when he strikes, violently driving his knees up and thrusting heavily from underneath to catch you entirely off guard.
it extends more into humiliation, spreading your bare ass cheeks apart as he plows into you from below. every soft, broken cry you whimper directly into his ear is what conducts his persistent pace, driving him completely feral as he slams upward against you with intense and unrefined force.
where would he cum? inside you.
slow to fast: gojo, higuruma
these two love building up the pace, starting up slow before going full on speed and fucking you rough almost at the same pace as the guys above. though they go on a much average speed, the mixed pace is what keeps you wanting for more.
gojo is another piece of shit that loves one-upping you in the most unexpected times. going from slow to fast just to see the change of cadence on your moans.
he easily unravels the moment you make a sound, completely losing his composure to the sweet sound of your voice as you tighten around him. you could feel him growing noticeably fuller inside you against the dullness and laziness of his initial pace. over time, whatever conscious restraint or fragile promise he made to be gentle shatters entirely. one single glimpse on your flushed and fucked out face is all it takes for him to completely abandon the torturing and agonizing pace all at once.
he's convinced that he's the one in control, playing a cruel game of sweet torture by keeping his movements deliberately slow. but in reality, he's the one being sent over the edge, the quiet and steady momentum eventually makes him lose his patience, turning him demanding and desperate for faster and hard pounding.
where would he cum? on your face.
higuruma basically just loves to play with the pace, building up the tension, allowing your juices to spread more across his length before making the sloshy sounds of your wetness a part of his increasing speed's harmony.
what always starts as a lazy, rolling rhythm later becomes an unforgiving speed. his grip on your waist tightens and his hips plunge forward harsher. the gentle, slipping friction sharpens into a hard, bashing force, burying the sound of his ragged breaths against your neck with loud and sharp smacks of his skin onto yours.
he starts slow, tall with his back rigidly straight, but the moment he leans his weight forward, pressing his chest against yours– everything changes. his hand tangles in your hair to force your head lower, using total leverage to drive you down and swallow every inch of his length as he hammers relentlessly from above.
where would he cum? on your stomach.
slow and steady: nanami, choso
what else do i have to say other than they know a woman's body and could actually make you orgasm through penetration? though it happens rarely without clitoral stimulation, they both know how to keep the pace constant until your creaming around them.
nanami loves to fuck you slow in missionary, allowing you to bask in his slow movements and melt into his affectionate and heated touch.
he's a romantic. approaching intimacy with a quiet reverence, preferring a slow, measured pace that allows you to be intimately aware of every single inch of his cock gliding along the crevices of your walls. he believes that keeping his thrusts slow allows you to feel the totality of his touch, the way his lips gently press against yours, the tender way his hands caress and shape your waist, and the steady roll of his hips moving above you.
he's deeply vocal, entirely captivated by how you look beneath him. he will pause to brush the stray, sweat-dampened hairs clinging onto your flushed face, carefully tucking them behind your ear before pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. he is the kind of man to murmur quiet, grounding professions of love directly against your skin, whispering those three words in the middle of it all as he holds you close.
where would he cum? your choice.
choso loves fucking you slow on the side, spooning you, and wrapping his arms around you while he slowly moves behind you.
he loves the absolute surrender it gives you in this position, your back pressed firmly against his broad chest, your body cradled by his as he glides in and out of you with a steady pace. his arms would wrap entirely around your waist, pulling you as tight and closely possible while his hands roam over your breasts, fondling and teasing your nipples while his lips press hot and wet kisses, nibbling and licking at your earlobe. he thrives on how completely trapped and overwhelmed you are in his embrace, leaving you with nowhere else to put your hands on, except to reach blindly behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair or digging your nails into his forearm as helpless moans spill from your lips.
to break the quiet monotony of his steady pace, he would occasionally slide his hand down between you, licking and spitting over his fingers before pressing them heavily against your clit, working his fingers in slow circles right as his hips push deeper into you, driving you to the edge while keeping you securely locked in his arms.
where would he cum? on your inner thighs.
full withdrawal thrusting: geto
he loves doing this shit, pulling everything out completely before plunging it inside of you back again. he thrusts in a mixed pace, just as long as he could pause for awhile and let you feel the sudden emptiness.
geto loves watching how his cock completely disappears into your hole, eyes fixated down below as he rests one of your legs on his shoulders.
he loves the absolute exposure of your body sprawled out beneath him, legs thrown wide apart with your cunt glistening slick and wet. he loves seeing you panting and sighing sweetly. the two of you share the obscene view of him sliding in and out of your hole. his mouth parts slightly, hot, heavy breaths washing over your skin as he stares unblinkingly at the way his thick length buries itself deep inside your walls.
every sharp gasp you let out when he bottoms out brings a new kind of cruelty to his expression, especially when your teeth slip away from the bruised, reddened skin of your lower lip where you had been biting down on. seeing your face contort and scrunch into that dizzying look of pure bliss only pushes him to do it over and over again.
Synopsis. Welcome to the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT! Where we take the information given on your profile, a few tests run by our team of experienced matchmakers, and our cutting-edge matchmaking system to scientifically pair you up with the perfect JJK man to ahem- make you Juno, you know?
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, bed chem, matchmaking, Dr. Shoko cameo, she’s had enough, NEEDY JJK men, chokíng, spítting, Iíngerie, DlLF!Toji, ex!Geto, arguing while doing it, ROUGH s, p talking, p sIapping, cIit pinching, doggy, fuII neIsons, toys (Sukuna), DP, BIIIIG stretches, pushing down, cervíx smooches, manhandIing, DÚMBlFICATION, Choso with píercings, Choso’s inspired by HoriMiya a little, matíng presses, fírst times (him), pùssydrunk JJK men, bíting, prem. ejac, nerd!Gojo, creampíes, cúmplay, Iove hotels, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. DADDY TONY’S BAAAAAACK!! And I might not have brought chiId support but I DID bring the Iittle announcement that I might…mayhaps…be working on my own Iittle story hehehe. It’s what I’ve been so busy with- and it’s something I’ve been wanting to write for a looooong time now. I’ve currently been worldbuilding smmmm ah, but yeah! Hoping to share this one with you too one day babygirls <33
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 99.96% MATCH!
“So is this thing measuring, like…bed chemistry?”
Oh. Your words ring far too loudly inside your ears - let alone inside this clinic. And you’re not quite sure who to blame—Dr. Ieiri Shoko for keeping her office so barren, or yourself for asking that question.
Like the bleached inside of a tusk, the surface of a porcelain plate just a touch too smooth. Too polished. Intimacy has never been so undefiled as these cold white walls advancing upon either side of you, clung onto by a fugitive nervousness that was white-hot. Not just yours - but the tens of thousands of clients that the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT boasts to have helped on their site.
It’s not quite what one imagines when they say ‘famous matchmaking agency’.
Your smile tightens. “M-my apologies, I hope I didn’t offend-”
“Yes.” Her sudden answer makes you stop. “Yes, it is like bed chem.”
You gulp.
“And it seems you’re a 99.96% match with ah- Mr. Fushiguro Toji.”
99.96%.
‘Oh’ was right.
Just his name sends a thrill down your spine.
Your fists clench in your lap, and before you know it, you’re nodding at the woman. “I would…like to meet him, please.”
.
.
.
Name: Fushiguro Toji
Age: ?*
Occupation: ??
Category: DILF
Primary likings: Rough. Manhandling. Doggy. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 8 onwards…)
*Got offended when asked (assumed mid-thirties).
One date that lasts about an hour.
One date that lasts about an hour - that’s all it takes for the boiling tension between you and ‘Mr. Fushiguro Toji’ to bubble over. Perhaps it was due to the shared knowledge that you two were scientifically identified to be perfect sexual matches, perhaps it was the way those vine-green eyes swept over you leisurely, appreciatively, as you walked into the romantic dinner date arranged by the agency.
It seems Toji had entered himself into the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT on accident after believing it was a normal matchmaking agency.
“—so imagine my surprise when I get there n’ all the questions are about what positions I like to stick my dick in?” He’d gruffed over the candlelit dinner - French cuisine, was it? A few of the other patrons glared at him, but Toji paid no attention. “I mean- I went along with it, of course. Already paid about twenty yen, hmpf…but I hadn’t actually planned to go through with this bullshit until-”
Those intense eyes of his flickered to you once more.
“-I saw that application of yours- of course.” And you felt the inchoate desire in your stomach give a strange twist—“A 99.6-”
“99.96%. Actually.” You interrupted, gnawing on your bottom lip.
“Interesting.” Toji smiled and leaned back into his chair. “Really interesting.”
And perhaps it was—
“Don’t tell me I’ve fucked ya speechless already when I haven’t even put it in?”
You’re snapping back to your senses- enough reminiscing about those first few minutes of meeting the man that was currently hugging you close to him - crushing you against his sultry sweat-sticky abs - not in a gentle display of affection, but such a lecherous embrace. Tacking his toned pelvis against your ass. Letting his engorged tip push-push-push between your pussylips and sliiiiiiiide down all those tender innards.
Toji keeps you from moving even a single inch as he shuffles you into doggy position. The bed whines just as you do. “S’this your favorite?” He watches from the corner of his eye as you nod. “Yeahhhh, mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”
And, in emphasis, he’s circling one roughened palm over your right ass cheek—giving just a brazen little smack.
“Mine fuckin’ too, girlie.”
“I mean, there’s a reason they matched us.” You huff at him.
“Yeah- and I’m about to find out.” Toji mutters. And you’re hearing him before anything else - the soft creaking! of that shitty love hotel bed, dipping, as he shuffles even closer—the sultry lil’ smooch of his wet tip kissing your hole. Thump-thump-thump—you can count every pulse. His or yours? “Bite the pillow.”
“Why would I need to- ohhhh, mpf-”
The answer to your question comes swift and merciless - because in one fluid motion Toji has his cocktip burgeoning inside, and his hips plastering to yours.
He keeps both hands - warm and slightly gnarled with callouses from whatever shady line of business he was in - firmly upon either side of your waist. Using his massive strength to jerk you back—just a little…But it feels like Toji was pumping thoroughly into your deepest core.
He was usin’ the little flare underneath his tip to stretch that snug channel- stretching and stretching that first ring of muscle. And then bashing his cockhead in so roughly that you start to wonder whether he was having issues controlling himself—you’re feeling Toji let out a little cracked groan as he feels your walls quiver around him. And then he’s pushing his hot cock in aaaaaaall the way as deep as it could go- “Aaaaaaatta girl. That’s a good girl. Now for the fun part…”
You furrow your brows half-heartedly. “This isn’t already the fun part?” Earning yourself the oh-so-lascivious punishment of yet another spank on your right cheek; and then a few more probin’ pushes of his cock. “I was just—oh-” Your toes curl as he hits a particularly good spot without even trying.
“It is.” Toji responds. “But it’s just about to get a whole lot more fun.”
You’re shivering as one of his fingertips paint the line down your spine, immediately followed by a string of kisses as far as he could go. But, of course, you never did expect Fushiguro Toji to be so gentle—did you? You never wanted him to be, did you?
Because his lips hover ‘round the soft skin of your right shoulder—and without warning, he’s biting. Your mouth opens in a soundless scream.
With a grunt that sounds as though it’s been dragged from the primal depths of his throat, Toji jerks your hips back into his with a plap! of skin-on-skin. And almost before that, he’s suddenly starting to pummel and pummel those rugged hips of his into yours, utterly molding his thick cock into your goopy insides- coating every inch with a layer of his slick—
“Because.” Toji gruffs out in an animalistic way - he angles his head and licks a long stripe up your neck. “Because- it took me a loooooooong time to get matched on that damn program. A long fuckin’ time.”
“Oh-” You’re yelping as he tugs your arms from underneath you- and you’re collapsing face-first into the soft strawberry-scented pillows. Collapsed doggy.
And before you know it, Toji straightens up and lets the heel of one of his feet rest on the corner of your shoulder. “Tch- way too fucking long.” This angle lets his cock penetrate even deeper, and his bouldering tip pushes into every single slick-filled orifice inside. “How long should it take to find a pretty babe f’me who likes it rough—” And he fucks you rough. “-who likes it hard—” And he fucks you hard. “-who likes me disrespectin’ this pussy like she deserves. Now how hard should that be, hm?”
And you’re unsure whether he was genuinely expecting a response or not - but you’re letting out a blabber of something you hope is comprehensible either way. “I—mmm, notthathard-”
“Exactly.” Toji huffs out a short breath of laughter. Then his hands are on you—pushing on the base of your spine and arching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.
“O-ohhhhhh, harder-”
“Thought you said it wasn’t that hard? And throw in a little manhandling-” Arching. “Just a little dumbification.” Making you drool. He reaches his foot - just a little, just softly - up to put pressure on near your neck n’ restrict your air flow—he leaves you gasping and choking with every thrust. “A little choking- heh.” He looks you over. “Maybe a few daddy issues-”
“Hey!”
“And then you’ve got it. Perfectly matching. Now that shouldn’t be so hard, hm?”
But you can’t quite answer.
Because Toji’s fucking you so good- he’s thrusting his cock into yours like he wants his pelvis melded to yours ass. He’s crushing and draaaagging your limp body down the bed and into his strong arms.
It’s almost as if your bodies are communicating with a secret language, because whenever you’re bouncing back he’s angling juuuust right to swab into your g-spot, when you’re jerking forwards he’s chasin’ after that syrupy-sweet pussy of yours. Candied with glittering globs of his pre.
Creating a swatting sound so loud, creating a pressure between your legs so hard, that your ears start ringing—“Oh, p-please…”
“And y’know the only difference between you and me?” Toji’s still steamrolling his dirty sentences- and you can barely blink your eyes open past all the pleasure he’s giving you. But you must manage to make some noise of question, because he continues. “That agency categorized me as a DILF. And you’re no MILF…yet.”
A shockwave runs down your spine.
“Th-that means…”
Toji leans in and huffs. Clammy breath. “So that profile said something about a breeding kink?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 100.1% (?) MATCH!
“You’ve done it. I’m ah…not quite sure how- but you’ve done it.” Dr. Shoko breathes. And although the words are in her usual impervious tone of voice, there’s a quiver there at the end that, after weeks of appointments with the doctor, you’ve learned to pick out as foreign.
Dr. Ieiri Shoko never wavers.
You’re leaning in and attempting to peek at your file. “Is there something wrong, doctor?”
“Not unless you count breaking the program’s metric wrong.” She slides over the file - face down as though the documents inside would snap at her if she wasn’t careful - and you’re immediately flipping it open. Your eyes widen as they’re immediately drawn to the bold, underlined number of a 100.1% match shown at the top of the first page—you’re then meeting Shoko’s own widened gaze.
“Huh?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Shoko opens her drawer and takes out two caplets of Extra Strength Tylenol and chugs them down—no water. She closes her eyes for a second to let them pass down her slender throat, and once she opens them again she’s immediately looking down at the file - as if hoping it had disappeared in the time.
But no such luck for Dr. Ieiri Shoko today.
She lets out a prolonged sigh and leans back in her chair. Enough time has passed that the two of you could forgo such formalities in the presence of the other, “I just…I just don’t know how that could happen. Mathematically and scientifically, it just doesn’t make sense. And yet, the program never makes a mistake- never.”
You understood her plight - you’d looked over (and passed on) your fair share of matches, and the highest you’d gotten was a 78% match with some guy called Atsumu Miya—you just had this nagging feeling that you’d find a greater match.
A stronger…chemistry with someone else.
And so you’d passed. And passed. And passed, until you were starting to feel that perhaps you’d never find a match greater than the 90% or even 80% statistics that the site often boasted. That is until…
Name: Nanami Kento
Age: 27
Occupation: Office worker
Category: Gentleman with a big D.
Primary likings: Service dom. Fitting. Milk him. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 9 onwards…)
Your eyes linger on those last two words of his Primary Likings section: milk him…
And immediately you’re feeling a thrill shoot up between your legs—causing them to squeeze together, causing Shoko’s eyes to quickly flicker down at the miniscule action. “Hm.” She types something on her keyboard - and you assume she’s shooting an email to one of the matchmakers in the program. “Maybe that’s what they mean by a match of 100.1%…”
White-hot embarrassment curls around your heart. “What? Oh, you’re incorrigible-”
“And you’re glad.” She smirks. “This is what you’re been waiting all this time for, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes…” You’re looking down at the passport-sized photo of Nanami on the front page. It was seemingly some sort of office photo he must’ve used in his resumes as well; and there he stood all sharp and aloof - almost bored - in a form-fitting suit and his blond hair pushed back smoothly, deep-set eyes almost piercing through the photocopied paper. Like an utter gentleman. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”
.
.
.
“It’s okay, darling, you don’t have to take it all—”
“But I want to, Kento.”
There’s something so sensual - so utterly fucking erotic - about the way Nanami looks when he’s on the verge of pussydrunkness. Sprawled out on the love hotel mattress. Jawline dotted with your recently-made hickies. His thick thighs are tensing and untensing—just as you’re straddlin’ his hips just a little wider and taking in Nanami’s rock-hard, drippin’ wet cock.
A meek blush creeps up the man’s cheeks once you cup them.
You’re lifting Nanami’s handsome face up to meet yours, and keep such looong, loving eye contact as you’re sliding your hips down and gulping one more inch after inch. Thick inch after inch.
The poor man’s breath catches and he’s letting out a little whimper as Nanami’s hot girth fills you up tantalizingly. “Oh sh-shit—”
Your body arches into his. “Mmm, with such a big, pretty cock like this - how could I not?”
“P-pretty…” He repeats. Those golden-hazel eyes of his widen behind his glasses, and you swear you see them welling up with tears as you take him. “But darling, what if it’s too big?”
“It could never be too big.” You cock your head with a sultry smile. “We’re a 100.1% match, remember? That means…”
In emphasis, you’re swervin’ your hips down in a semi-circular motion that makes him drive even deeper.
“-every part of us matches.”
And then poor Nanami Kento - overworked, underpaid, going off of nothing but instant coffee and the smell of freshly-baked bread from the bakery near the office - is being ridden to heaven by your devilish hips. Up and down. Up and down. The way you’re digging your nails into his shoulders…the way you’re pushing your nipples up against his pecs, rubbing…the way you’re clenchin’ around his tip - right where he was the reddest and hottest and most sensitive - every time he probes inside.
A too-loud moan erupts from his lips—and Nanami immediately attempts to clamp his mouth shut.
But there’s no use. You’re watching with a knowing smile as you’re fucking such lasvicious moans n’ ribbons of spittle out of him. With every single squeeze.
Spit drips down the side of his mouth- and he shivers as you lean in and lick it away. “S-so that means…” He whispers. Almost to himself. Those pretty eyes of his keep starin’ down lovingly at the area you two were connected. “-this lovely lady is made for me?”
“If by ‘lovely lady’, you’re referring to my pussy…” You reply coyly. You throw your arms around him and tug on those precious golden curls at the nape of his neck. It makes a sexy grunt escape Nanami’s lips. “Then why don’t you find out?”
And Nanami doesn’t know why- he can’t help himself.
It’s just like…the more times he’s thrusting inside your cunt, semi-thrusts, the deeper he’s delving between those sweet pussylips, the more addicted he’s getting to it.
He’s reaching up and pressing down where he was fitting inside.
“Oh.” Nanami’s eyes grow heavy. Drunk on lust. A twinge of pain runs up your core as he squeezes a mere inch more, “Oh. I-is this okay?”
“Keep going.”
And he’s stretching you so much you can’t even begin to describe—
“Shiiiiit-”
“Does it hurt? I hope it doesn’t hurt-”
“No no- oh, more-”
“It’s true—” He spits. Beads of sweat plaster his temple, and his features twitch in pure carnal ecstasy as you squeeze your pretty legs tighter around him. A vein makes itself prominent on his neck. “Fuck, it’s true- she’s taking me so well-”
With a single thumb, he spreads apart your pussylips n’ watches his inches slip inside.
“And she’s so hungry for it, too.” Nanami looks up at you. “Do you think she’s been hungry for it all this time, my love? My cock?”
“Oh, I bet.” Throwing your head back—you’re practically plastered against Nanami’s surprisingly toned front. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, please- Kento—”
“Anything for you.”
And to be honest, Nanami Kento never saw himself as the wild type in bed.
For starters, he was a busy man—spreedsheets were his regular partner, and powerpoints were his mistress. And perhaps that was the exact reason Shoko, his lifelong friend, had signed him up for this stupid program. As much as Nanami had howled and huffed about the ethics of signing one’s friend up for this and ‘but he needs to work that day so he doesn’t need to do overtime…’ lo and behold there he found you.
Well, more like you found him.
Showing up so pretty and perfect for your first meeting in Shoko’s office—and when he’d seen that match measurement of 100.1%…Nanami felt a sudden flare of madness: that perhaps this entire thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Your second meeting had been in this cramped love hotel.
And Nanami had meant to wine and dine you- he’d meant to…but here he was. Hand clamoring to clasp either side of your hips - leaving crescent nail marks. Hips pushing off the mattress in animalistic little jerks—not even propery fucking inside, just yearning to feel the carnal squeeze of your cunt—
He hits that one spot. And he knows he does.
Because Nanami’s feeling his rotund cockhead push apart your pussylips n’ then slip somewhere deeeeep inside - one velvety bundle of nerves that makes you moan uncontrollably. Just a few inches more and he’d be hitting your coveted cervix…
And he does, but it feels like whiplash.
Because soon enough Nanami’s flipped the two of you over so that the bed dips with your combined weight, with you being manhandled onto your back, and Nanami’s cock wedging deeper into your cunt than it’s ever gone before. Inch by inch. It’s a hypnotizing mix of pain and pleasure as he marks every nook, cranny, and crevice inside you with silky dollops of pre.
He finally fits.
And Nanami lets out a massive gasp - several - as though he’d just finished a marathon once he does so. “100.1%” He throatily repeats - whilst it feels like you’re squeezing him strong enough to milk him. You’re letting out a botched moan as he nudges against your cervix with the top of his smooth tip, smearing sprays of gooey precum—as if he’d go even deeper if he could.
“I wonder what the 0.1% is, my love?”
You’re not getting out of here alive.
♡ GETO SUGURU - 98% (UN)MATCH!
“This is so stupid- we have no bed chemistry.”
“Absolutely no chemistry.”
“Seriously no chemistry.”
“Not even an ounce of chemistry.”
“Then why’re you inside me?”
“Why’d you ask me to be inside you?”
“I’m the one asking the questions here-” You scoff—but you know he’s got you cornered. And by the smug expression on Geto Suguru’s stupidly handsome face, he knows that too.
Unfortunately for him - you’re never one to back down. And so you’re slightly lifting your hips off the sweat-sodden mattress, not giving the man a second of warning before you’re clamping your silken walls down haaaaard ‘round his cock—and you try to ignore just how good - and familiar - it feels to have him inside you.
There was the thickness of his cockhead - flared the most at the base and perfect to jostle apart your slutty channel like you wanted so badly. There was one- two- three of his most prominent veins, curved down the middle of his shaft and rubbing against your pulsating soft spots. There was the arch of his erection that meant he’d not only be pushed against your cervix- but also up at the roof of your cunt.
His breath hitches, and he’s letting his head throw back. Cute.
And you never did expect to be matched with your stupid ex on that stupid sexual matchmaking program.
Let alone actually have sex with him again.
Let alone this be your fourth round.
Name: Geto Suguru
Age: 28
Occupation: Prefers not to say
Category: Morally grey.
Primary likings: Degradation. Spitting. Choking. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 69 onwards…)
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” Dr. Shoko had commented. “Maybe a little check-up-”
“No.” You’d responded. “I’m ah- fine. It’s just—what sort of a category is that?”
“You’d be surprised what our clients are into.” She looked at you with amusement. “And, it seems, you as well.”
You shrunk in the clinic seat in shame.
And the most infuriating part of all…was that the damn program had been correct.
Geto managed to string your body n’ your pleasure along as if it took him no effort—he’d memorized all your sweetest spots inside and it seems he’d never forgotten, he’d never hesitate before spankin’ on your throbbing clit because he already knows it’s going to set your body alight, he’d thrash and thrash his hips into yours because he was fucking angry. And you were, too.
So why did the two of you break up in the first place? Ah, let’s just say…that plans of world domination and date nights don’t go together that well.
But Geto, it seems, was a changed man (or so he said).
He’d dissolved his cult that he always refused to call a cult (or so he said). He was back to self-studying and mending his relationships (or so he said) except, of course, his one with you…
“Stop thinking about what an asshat I am, you always get that look when you think about what an asshat I am.” You’re hearing Geto scoff from above you—and he has the audacity to lean down and prod your furrowed brow relaxed. “S’gonna make me soft.”
“Join the club, I’m already dry.”
With a single - perfectly shaped - brow raised, Geto creeps his right hand down your side—letting those soft fingertips of his just lightly caress the front of your cunt. Your utterly sodden cunt. “That’s not what this pussy’s telling me?”
You’re scrambling onto your elbows. “Communication issues for two years and suddenly you’re the pussy whisperer?”
“Yes. Good that you’re catching up-” That very hand comes up to push you down—“Down, gorgeous- let’s do it my favorite position, hm?”
You scoff. “I don’t remember your favorite position.”
“Oh yeah? Then why’re you halfway down to a full nelson?”
And it was true—ah, for all your supposed pride and dignity, and the pep talk that you’d given yourself before the agency-organized dinner date that you would totally not fuck Geto Suguru no matter how handsome he looked…
But dammit, he’d worn his long hair down.
Of course, the two of you argued over your romantic dinner. Squabbling. Bickering. Making the server hold in his laughter every time you (admittedly immaturely yet albeit justifiably) swiped something off of Geto’s plate when he wasn’t looking; whatever one wanted to call it.
Of course, the two of you ended up at the love hotel a few minutes away from the restaurant; whatever one wanted to call it.
And currently you’re basking in the saturated, sickly-sweet strawberry scent bursting out in plumes from the love hotel pillows. “Eugh- I hate this smell.”
“Oh shush, you’re underneath me.” Geto got himself settled in the full nelson underneath you- and he doesn’t waste a single second before collectin’ a few trickles of slick on his right palm. He then grabs himself and coats his shaft in all the gossamer substance—pushing his perky tip against your hole. And then inside.
“O-ohhhhh—” Your voice cracks.
“Shut up, you’ve taken me more.” Geto spits- and at that very moment, you’re embarrassed to say that a carnal part of you twitches. And soon enough, he’s getting absolutely slathered in all those dewy droplets of sap that he’s missed so much since the break-up—absolutely claiming him, is what Geto likes to think. “And heh- based on what I read on your profile…me telling you to shut up just made you wetter-”
“A coincidence.” You sputter. “S-surely a coincidence.”
“Hmmm? And is it a coincidence that almost all those cute kinks on your profile were ones that I got you into?” He purrs- purrs.
“Not all- hngh, of them-”
“Maybe, but let’s be real, gorgeous—” And then Geto trails off - and it’s never a good sign when Geto trails off. Because that means- smack! As expected, his fingertips come slammin’ down until your clit’s swelling just a bit more, and his hips don’t slow down for a single second. You’re wincing as he keeps steamrolling. “-this pussy learned most of her tactics from me.”
What arrogance. Although you couldn’t lie- seeing Geto so worked up sent pangs of pleasure searing through every fibre of your body. And your favorite method to get him to shut up was to-
“Clench.” He’s gritting his teeth—hissing his words out through them, as he bucks his hips upwards- meeting your flutterin’ walls head-on with a sudden thwack! at your cervix. “Yeah- don’t think I don’t know about your secret technique-” Geto sounds crazed as he whispers in your ear, tone hitching and warbling with every second. But he still keeps going. “-and who taught you that clenchin’ so hard- clenching with the force of your core- feels so good?”
“I-I…” Saliva seeps into your mouth twofold now that Geto’s increasing his pace. He reaches over n’ licks that little splatter-
“I-I-I-I…” Geto mocks. “I don’t think you’re being truthful, girl~”
“It was you—” You’re yowling- attempting to stand upwards to perhaps get ahold of yourself - but the only thing you’re succeeding in doing is urging Geto to wrap his left arm around your neck and draaaaaaag you right back down.
You gasp at the sensation of his thick biceps; the firmness and strength held within them; the curves and dips of his muscles. “And who taught you that getting choked like this feels good?”
You’re so woozy- fuck, your head’s throbbing and you’re feeling the wadded-up remnants of cum Geto’s left behind from previous rounds. Harder and harder. Rougher, his balls keep slapping against the front of your sodden folds. “You…”
“And who taught you that this pussy feels better when m’being mean?”
“You—”
“And who’s getting back together with you?”
“You- wait, what?”
“Heh.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 92% MATCH!
Name: Kamo (Itadori) Choso
Age: ?*
Occupation: Student
Category: Hey, hey, hey EMO BOY!
Primary likings: Subbing. Getting pussydrunk. Shooting blanks. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 14 onwards…)
*Client became nervous after seeing the diagrams of sexual positions in the following forms and could not answer (EDIT: Later confirmed 23 but spiritually 150 (?)).
“Him?”
Dr. Shoko sits statuesquely before you. No change in her expression. Not even the slightest twitch in her fingers as she flips through your documents one more time.
After a moment of silence, she takes a deep breath and asks. “Erm- my apologies, but would I be right in assuming that you’re not attracted to hi-”
“No—no, no, no, no, no-”
“Ah- well, that’s one way to pass on a match-”
“No- that’s- that’s not what I meant.” Red-hot embarrassment, shot through with a spike of excitement once your eyes drop down to the profile of the man once more, curdles in your chest. And you’re sure you look quite frantic attempting to rescind…perhaps everything you’ve blurted out in the past five minutes. Dr. Shoko raises a brow. “Of course, I’m attracted to him.”
A knowing smile tugs at her lips. “Oh?”
“Yeah- of course.” You cough out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Piercings glinting on his ears, snakebites on his lips, and a nervous - almost sheepish, but with a bring-your-daughter-home-at-2AM defiance - expression on his face. Just your type. “He’s perfect, actually.”
Dr. Shoko puts her documents down on the table and crosses her legs. “Then what seems to be the problem?”
“It’s just…I kinda know him?” You’re wincing. “We go to the same university- he does Japanese History, and I’ve seen him ‘round in the Anime Club.”
She hums. “Mm, you seem to know a lot about him.”
You almost sputter- “J-just as much as the average person would…But the thing is that on campus he just looks a little…different? I guess? Imagine your typical nerd—glasses, vests, knows one too many things about Tolkien, cute.” Dr. Shoko throws you a look—nerds were a close second on your list of types, okay?! And you’d always believed Choso was cute even before all this sprucing up. “Anyways. That sort of thing.” And then you’re taking a second look at the photograph on his profile - maybe the distance would help you see him clearly? And nothing. “And now…”
Everything else matched up.
It was just in his photograph where he looked like he belonged in an early 2000’s emo band.
You let out a slight gasp. “Is he catfishing m-”
“No. Although that would be a little entertaining to see…” Dr. Shoko mutters that last part to herself- “However, Mr. Kamo has shown up to every appointment in exactly this style. Could it be that perhaps he prefers one style for university, and the other in private?”
“Probably.” You sigh. And you see that look on her face- you know that look on her face. “Oh, fine. We both know I want you to match us.”
.
.
.
“Fuh-fuck pleeeease—” Veins, reddened and irritated, snake down the expanse of Choso’s neck - and you’re not surprised. Not when Choso kept twitchin’ and bucking with every single fwop! of your cunt slamming down onto his hips, letting his cock rover deeeeeply inside.
Oh-so-deeply.
You’ve got the poor man sat up against the headboard of this crappy love hotel. You’ve got his face pushed between your tits, as you’re bouncing your hips up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Cute suctioning noises let off where he’s glued his mouth to one of your tits, letting his cheeks hollow as he suckles. “Please- ngh.” Unabashed tears roll down Choso’s cheeks, “Do you really think I can cum again?” Ending his sentence with a single jagged thrust inside your gooey depths.
“But of course.” You purr—purr. It’s enough to make Choso shudder, ravenous cock twitching. “Because I said so. And what did I say about me saying so?”
“M-mommy’s always right when she says so…” He responds- cheeks burning such a sweltering red.
“Hah…” Leaning down you kiss him- at least, it starts off a kiss. But soon enough you have your tongue sliding across his bottom lip, playing with the sexy snake bites that pierce through the nerd’s lower lip. Always with his nose stuck in a book—you’re kicking yourself for not noticing the holes sooner. “Not so tough now, are you?”
You’ve been teasing him for what feels like eons - but in reality has been about two…maybe three…maybe seven rounds cooped-up inside this love hotel - now; and it’s enough to set Choso on all sorts of edges. Choso can’t speak. Choso can’t form a single thought. Choso can’t control his body- what the fuck he can’t…Unable to stop himself from constantly yearning that sweet pressure that comes from striking the flat surface of the back of your pussy—
His hips are stinging. But he’s still pushing and pushing and pushing.
“Just one more, then?” He asks. Tears in his eyes.
“Awwww- you really are an emo boy. I can’t believe you had the entire campus fooled for years now.” You snicker- watching as his eyes narrow…first in exasperation, and then in ecstacy as you’re squeezing ‘round his cock. “Mhm. Just one more- mommy has to reward you for losing your virginity, doesn’t she?” You ask. Expectedly, Choso nods and nods.
That had been the entire reason for his participation in this program, it seems - the poor thing wanted to get some experience. And you couldn’t blame him—nor be nice to him. According to his profile, Choso liked it when he was fucked hard- no experience and already thinking like a freak, huh? He was definitely your type.
Tapping at your chin in an exaggerated display of thinking.
“But mommy’s wondering….where is my nerd gonna cum?”
His eyes go wide. Breath hitching, “Please-”
“I mean- maybe you could pull out and I could milk you onto the blanket—?” Dramatically, the other man’s lower lip quivers as a sob threatens to break through. So many rounds and he still hadn’t cum inside - you’d gotten him everywhere: on your stomach, on your tits, between your thighs, on your tongue. Everywhere but inside. “Hmmm. Nope.”
He perks up.
“How about my mouth again?”
Choso shakes his sweaty head.
“I wanted to- hngh—” It’s so tough for him to speak when he’s actively trying not to fall apart at the seams.
“Oh, what’s that?” Your eyes go wide. “Don’t feelin’ my mouth wrapped around your cock, Choso- is it?”
He shudders at the mere imagery of that. Every single thrust had him threatening to spill inside—those gossamer ribbons were flooding your entrance n’ starting to drip down your thighs. “No-”
“No?”
“No, no, no, no—I love your mouth-” He sputters. “-m-mommy…” And even though it’s already been so long, Choso was still wearing those chunky rings depicting skulls and such on- gliding them up and down your back soothingly. “I love every part of you. But I just really…really…really wanted to cum inside this time-” Peeking up at you through tear-stained lashes. “…if that’s okay with you?”
He looked so pretty, it was hard not to cave in then and there.
But you had to stand firm. “Nuh uh…I don’t know.” Tapping at your chin once more. “M’honestly a little hurt that you’d hide this emo side of yourself, Choso.” Leaning down to whisper into his ear- his silver studs glint. “Especially when emo boys with big dicks just make me sooooooo fuckin’ wet—”
Choso startles as though he’d been electrocuted. “I-if I’d known that then I would’ve told you in a heartbeat, mommy-”
“Ah, sweet-talking me now?” You wave. “What other secrets are you hiding, Mr. Kamo Choso?”
And it’d been a rhetorical question, something to make your poor boy squirm—honestly! But perhaps you should’ve expected that with Choso’s fried, pussydrunken brain he wouldn’t have caught onto the toying tone of your voice. That he would’ve blushed- and confessed.
“A-actually the only reason I joined was to get experience-” You raise a brow as you’d already known that. “-so that if- when I actually found the courage to ask someone out, then I’d be less likely to disappoint them in bed…”
Your lips quiver. “Oh, Cho.”
And then you’re wrapping your arms around Choso’s head - pushing his face deeper into your clammy tits, skin-against-skin - you’re running your fingers through his hair, soothing, as Choso keeps fuckin’ away into you.
You whisper against his clammy forehead, “Cum inside, baby.”
And he does with a broken groan—long, lengthy ribbons of cum decorating the interior of your cunt. “Th-thank you, mommy.” He whimpers. They cling onto the outer ring of your entrance- which Choso has to push inside with a flicker of his thumb. The heat floods you instantly - bursts and bubbles of warmth spreading from your core, every single time that Choso twitches with another pang of pleasure- and his cockhead bursts out in cum.
Choso might be an utter sweetheart, but his cock was not-
He thwacks! out a few more creamy wads, and when he’s finally done and shooting blanks- Choso accumulates those dollops on the tip of his cock all to smear them at the bottom of your pussy. That sweet, sweet cervix.
“C-can I tell you another secret, baby?” He sobs.
“Of course, Choso.”
“You. It’s you.”
You free him from your embrace to look at him properly.
“It’s you that I’ve been wanting to ask out.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HE MATCHED?!
“Wait- who…?”
“The King of Curses.” Dr. Shoko responds with a straight face. Too straight. You needed her to crack a smile- you needed her to tell you that this was a joke. “At least—that’s what he calls himself, and we did have to track down his records to find out his actual name.”
Name: ITADORI (RYOMEN) SUKUNA
Age: 32
Occupation: ‘It’s complicated’.
Category: Rough n’ tough
Primary likings: ROUGH. Partners in lingerie. DP. (For a more detailed report on sexual proclivities and medical assessment, please see Page 55 onwards…)
“What does he mean by his occupation being…‘it’s complicated’?” You squint at the man’s profile.
“He wanted to put ‘King of Curses’ for that, too.” Dr. Shoko takes a long swig of her coffee. “Goodness knows I couldn’t figure that out even with a PhD. But it’s a lot more flattering than putting ‘Loitering’, isn’t it?”
“He loiters.” You ask.
“Hopefully a forgivable crime.” She nods.
And, sure, you didn’t give a shit about the loitering—what instead caught your attention was the little matchmaking measurement that was on the top of the page. Or at least supposed to be. Instead of a percentage like all your previous passes had, this time was greeted you instead was a simple note: MATCH MADE!
And underneath it was a few semi-erased notes from who you assume to be the matchmakers spelling out- ‘Thank goodness.’ ‘We thought the day would never come-’ ‘Take him off our hands, please!!’
Dr. Shoko catches you staring at them and promptly shuts your file for you. “It’s just ah- your match seems to have a bit of a…reputation here, you see?”
You ask, “A reputation? Is he some weirdo?”
“Well that’s one way of putting it…” She mutters to herself-
“What was that-”
“Nothing!” Dr. Shoko clears her throat, and smooths her mask of professionalism. “To be quite frank with you, Sukuna was one of our first clients—and we’ve been operational for quite some time now, and yet Sukuna never matched with anyone. If it wasn’t an extremely low percentage, then a match didn’t get past the interview stage- especially because Sukuna himself can be a little…intimidating. At one point we just started showing him the profiles first, expecting pass after pass.” She gives you a meaningful look. “But for the first time, it seems, the King of Curses has found himself interested.”
You don’t know how to interpret the little quirk of a smirk on her lips. “I see.” Flipping the file back open, you’re taking in those smoldering crimson eyes, that pink hair. He was handsome, that was for sure- and he sounded like such a character.
You can’t help but find yourself, perhaps, a little interested as well.
“But of course, it’s completely up to you. And I can pass this one and get some more matches lined up if-”
“Nah. No need to pass, Dr. Shoko.”
.
.
.
“Now do a little spin f’me- atta girl.”
Just about three dates - and you’d discovered that the pink-haired man honestly wasn’t too bad. A little eccentric- alright, very eccentric. He spoke in extremely old-fashioned Japanese and knew far too much about cannibalism, but other than that you thought him to be just fine. Handsome, too.
Just an hour into your romantic dinner at that one fancy French restaurant downtown. Just a glance at the nearby love hotel before you’re both huddling inside one cramped room, Sukuna tugging off his coat before he bore you with a strappy black lingerie set.
It barely covered…well, anything.
And that seemed to be just how he liked it.
Not even needing to tug those panties of yours to the side before he’s pressin’ his plump tip against your pussylips. Both so sensitive that the contact makes you hiss—and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as soon as he starts to enter. “O-ohhh-”
“Hey- hey—” Of course, it’s not long before you’re feeling one of his roughened hands come and lightly tap your cheeks. It makes you snap out of your little daze and discover that Sukuna had entered a few inches - barely halfway through - but it still felt like he was touching your deepest throat. “Ya have the King of Curses right before you and you’re not even looking at him? Tch-”
Without warning, he pummels just a little deeper. Just a tender caress of his zig-zagging veins along your wet channel-
“C’mon, woman—” Sukuna grumbles. “Literally what could be so interesting inside the back of yer skull? Look at me- look at how well m’fucking you.”
“S-so good…” You’re blabbering out, as soon as your senses are returning. Because the stark sensation of Sukuna streaking your insides was mind-numbing - you don’t think you’ve ever taken anyone this big before.
“Never?” Fuck- you said that out loud?! His smirk makes your heart race- honed canines all on display. “Well buck up, brat.” He taps the side of your hips - and too late does it register as a signal to fuck your hips back down onto his pummeling ones. Funneling your cunt so fucking tight with all his inches. “Because if it takes you this long ta take me regularly, then we might just be here all night trying to get you to take…heh-”
The hairs on your body raise.
You bite down on your lower lip. “Your…second one?”
Sukuna chuckles. “No.” Reaching upwards - not caring if it’s making your hamstrings scream so deliciously at the stretch - Sukuna leans his sticky forehead against yours n’ kisses your lips. Tongue and all. He finally whispers as he parts, “It’ll be yours.”
And just a few more thrusts, a few more whack-whack-whacks! of his thickened cock reaching your deepest depths possible. He was just so big and his thrusts were just so vicious—you’re floating through a haze of pleasure when you feel it…that cold press of silicone against your precious orifice.
You’re jerking up with a yelp. “Shit- hngh, you’re putting it in now?”
“Hah? Duh.” Sukuna scoffs. “Why? Unless you don’t wish to-”
“I’m just wondering what took you so long.”
Sukuna seems stunned for one second- two. Before the King quickly snaps out of it to pleasure the sopping line of your cunt with his silicone dildo—“Dirty girl.”
Because what’d intrigued you the most on his profile was one thing: double penetration. And Ryomen Sukuna took it seriously—he’d slathered that impressive size - molded after himself, he’d told you - with a passion fruit-scented lube before starting to crown it at your entrance. The very same pussy he was stuffed in, too.
His cock throbs away wildly inside you as Sukuna squeezes- and squeezes. And you wince at the mixture of pain and pleasure - that utterly wiiiiiild stretch making your mind dazed. “Keep going.” You beg. “P-please- keep going, Kuna—”
“Kuna?” You can’t tell if he’s feigning outrage or he’s serious. He tugs your body into his- using one of your lingerie straps. “How ridiculous- fuck, and just for that- don’t expect me to go easy on ya, brat.”
And then it’s both. At the same time.
He started off nicely—surprisingly. He started off just shuffling his thick, throbbing cock behind and stuffing the orifice of your cunt with the purple-colored dildo. He started off so-
And then you’d gotten just a tad too mouthy and Sukuna’s letting the globular, slick-glazed edge of the dildo rover all over - aaaaaall around the first ring of your entrance, and then smearing apart your channel to search for your sweet spots inside. Competing - fucking competing - with his own cock to massage your spots the best. It takes one hand clawed onto your hip n’ pinning you down with all his weight to actually squirm the dildo inside you.
Shivers run down Sukuna’s spine as he feels his sensitive shaft rub against the firm silicone. Uuuuuuup rubbin’ his skin against the material. And down. Uuuuup and down. Uuuuup and down.
Fucking you twice over.
Such looooong and lecherous slides of your overstuffed pussy- “Look at her go.” The King drags you back using a strappy ribbon from your lingerie, glances down and snickers. “She’s just so hungry, huh?”
“C-can feel you all the way in my throat.” You whimper.
“That’s nothing, wait till you feel me in your cervix.”
And he’s bottoming out. Twice.
“Fuck, how I’m glad you found me.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY% MATCH?!
Dr. Ieiri Shoko sits before you in her office, and she looks as though she wished she was doing anything but.
Now, you’re sure this wasn’t anything personal - after all, you’ve met with Dr. Shoko for numerous appointments prior, and each time she’d been cordial if not nice. You’ve filled out all your forms. You haven’t been late to an appointment. You made sure during each appointment to be open-minded and thoughtful about your potential matches.
So…what?
What could have happened in the thirty-six hours between your last appointment (six passes that day) and the sudden frantic phone call you’d gotten this morning regarding the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT? You’d rushed over - still half-asleep and attempting to tug on your pants - as soon as you could, sure that perhaps today would be the day you find your perfect match and-
“Ehem- today is the day you’ll be looking over your perfect match.” Ah- what? Still jolted by Dr. Shoko’s sudden change in demeanor, it takes a second for the excitement to hit you.
You gasp. “Seriously? A perfect match?”
“Well…perfect would be overselling it…” She mutters to herself- and then catches your look of confusion. “Ah- mathematically and scientifically, the numbers are perfect of course. A 99.99% match.”
“Then, what seems to be…”
“It just seems that your match is a little-” Dr. Shoko waves her hands in the air, searching for the word.
“Eccentric?”
“No.”
“Odd?”
“No.”
“Crazy.”
“Almost.” She sighs, looking far more exhausted than the last time you saw her. Far more exhausted. The bluish splotches beneath her eyes crinkle as she grimaces, “Apologies. I’m not that good at describing Lovecraftian monsters.”
You chuckle- before you realize. “Wait, what?”
“But—onto the profiles, we don’t have all day and I have about thirty more appointments.” She shoots you a look. “And none of them above 60%, I fear.” Then turning towards her second door - the one connecting her office to one of the building’s laboratories - she calls. “You can come out now!”
The door clicks open immediately- as if whoever was on the other side had been waiting impatiently to be called, fidgeting, hand already on the door handle.
And in walks a tall, white-haired man—although he couldn’t have been more than thirty or so, wearing a sterile white scientist’s coat and thin-rimmed glasses. There were a few Digimon stickers on his shoes, and his name tag read: PROF. GOJO SATORU.
He was cute- you had to give him that.
Dr. Shoko takes one look at your face and sighs.
You’re immediately straightening up. “E-erm, hello.” And the man bows rapidly- sputtering out greetings and introductions a mile a minute, that you don’t even catch them. “Ah…I believe you have my match profile?”
The other woman smacks her forehead. “He is your match profile.”
You gape. “What?”
Gojo practically beams- fuck, he really was too cute. He immediately reaches over and grasps your hand—then unabashedly kisses the back of it. Such a loud mwah! “Your pleasure to meet me, sweetheart.”
From the corner of your vision, you see Dr. Shoko download a resignation letter template. “Please…you’re all he’s been talking about for the past two days-”
“Like a true romantic~” Gojo trills.
“-pass on him and put us all out of our misery…please. I beg of you.”
You look at the miserable Shoko- and then you look at Gojo.
.
.
.
“So…” Gojo’s breath sticks to the side of your neck, utterly syrupy, and his cock sticks to the goopy insides of your cunt.
They wouldn’t have been able to pull him out with a wrench, he can tell you that much-
Because you were swallowing him up whole—little mewls leaving the gap between your lips, little dribbles of slick going down the corners of your mouth - ones he’s nearing towards and licking right off your face. Gojo’s chunky glasses crush against the side of your temple. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh. “-it seems I have fallen victim to my own creation.”
Gojo Satoru had you pushed against his clinical desk; it’d been long since Dr. Shoko had wrapped-up your first meeting (and gone to take a lay-down on her examination bed). Meanwhile Gojo had valiantly volunteered to give you ‘an insightful and educational’ tour around the laboratories.
The first place he took you to was his private office.
…The first place he took you to, neither of you could keep your hands off each other.
“Th-the program?” You’re babbling. Your hands grasp the edge of his desk- a plumage of documents soar upwards as you’re struggling and failing a few times- he was just fucking you so good. “How are you falling victim—”
“Because when I wanted to figure out a way to lose my virginity, I didn’t expect it to be this good—!” Gojo bursts out in confession. And you’re feeling the full impact of his statement- and the rough slam of his cockhead against the back of your pussy.
“S-so this was all…” Your mouth gapes - and you’re not quite sure whether it was because of the sudden confession, or the increasing force of his hips. “-a scheme to pop your cherry?!”
“Erm, actually- I wouldn’t say scheme—” Gojo huffs. Those thick-framed glasses of his kept sliding down his nose due to the force of his thrusts, and he was smearing his pretty face against your shoulder to keep pushing it up. “I am- was a virgin, heh…”
He takes a glance down at where the two of you were sloppily connected - those swollen folds of yours spread so wiiiiiide open around his long cock - and instantly, he’s hypnotized.
For a beat.
Two.
“—Satoru.” Honestly- you have to give him a good clench to snap him back to his senses. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve kept funneling you full of his cock until one or both of your bodies gave out—he just seemed addicted. Tingling with desire. He wanted you. He needed you.
Every single second he was reeling his hips back- Gojo was angry just until he could rover his thickened inches back inside n’ bash your very cervix. Again. And again. And again and again.
And Gojo’s pushing his glasses up with a huff. “What if I was having a telepathic conversation with your pussy?”
You gape. “Shoko’s right, you’re crazy-”
“Yeah yeah-” He sighs as if he’s heard that one before. Many, many times. With a roll of those blue eyes, Gojo keeps explaining - not slowing down for a single split-second. “I was a virgin with too much time between my extra credits and three honors degrees, okay? So instead of being a lunatic and going out to actually meet people, I did what any sane person would do…”
“Create the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT-”
“I created the BIG BANG THEORY PROJECT!” It was almost…cute just how passionate he was getting. And it certainly helped that the more excited he got, the more his twitchin’ tip splurged out precum. Flinching it into all sorts of little hidden spots inside you—“A cutting-edge matchmaking system that pairs partners’ sexual proclivities-”
He leans against you- and it feels like a furnace, in the best way. Gojo’s blushing cheek against yours. Gojo’s aching cock against your cunt.
He’s scouring the silken depths of your cunt and ramming into that one spot- “The Gräfenberg spot.” Gojo titters to himself. “Erm- I did my reading…” By now he wasn’t even pulling his hips off of yours- glued to those stinging ass cheeks of yours, he’s plasterin’ every nook inside you with his precum. “And the fact that we’re a near-100% match must mean one thing—”
Gojo cums from pure excitement.
He cums from pure excitement. White-hot pouring into the depths of your cunt, slathering it in an oily layer of his cum.
You almost don’t dare to ask. “And wh-what does that mean?”
“That next I must make a pregnancy program!”
Too caught up in the moment; the two of you don’t register the light buzz of your phone.
A text from Shoko.
A/N. IDK why working on their profiles was so unserious shsdhsd-
A weekend stay at his grandmother’s house, a good chunk of his immediate and extended family staying as well. And he still has the audacity to prance around his childhood bedroom is nothing but a pair of low handing gray sweats.
“Val, baby. Please find a shirt.” The house had finally gone quiet for the first time in hours. The pups asleep, the parents finally able to relax, uncle Valko and their new auntie now hiding in uncle Valko’s old room… “It’s just you and me, why do I need a shirt?” Oh, bless him…
You shift under the blankets, thighs pressing together deliciously as you glance over the tanned muscles of his torso. Only for him to shift and remind you that he has model robots collecting dust on some bookshelves behind him with a middle school robotics trophy. “Because.”
It’s all you can muster, and his tail wags slow and steady in honest confusion. “Because why? I always sleep without a shirt, don’t I? My family has seen me like this plenty—“ you roll over, burying your burning face into his pillow and whining. He was totally missing the point, by a mile.
“Ohh, I get it.” He murmurs as he watches your legs kick under the blankets. Nose twitching as he zeroes in on your scent shamelessly. “You’re horny. And my nakedness isn’t helping your cause, right?” You pop up, looking over your shoulder to glare at him with an exaggerated pout.
“You’re so hot, Val. And you’re making it worse with what you’re wearing. Plus we’re in a house full of wolves, not only can we not have sex. Even if we could, I’m not letting you fuck me in your childhood bed.”
That earns a rich, deep rumbling of laughter from his chest, only fanning the flames. “We could always sneak out for some late night snacks? There is a convenient store that’s 24 hours like fifteen minutes…” you’re already rolling out of bed, not bothering to grab your purse.
“You still need a shirt.” You murmur as you make it for the door, eyeing him with wide, needy eyes. “Even if you’re going to rip it off me in 5 minutes?”
I feel like the lotus position with Sylus would be overly intimate. Like too intimate. Something reserved specifically for when you’re both a little tipsy and feeling extra lovey with each other. When the alcohol give you both that little boost of confidence you didn’t realize you needed to be interlocked so deeply with one another.
All giggles and goofy smiles as you’re wrapped so tightly around each other that it’s hard to decipher where one starts and the other ends. Having to work together to actually make something happen but being too lost in kissing to really make it work.
So it’s just sloppy thrusts and grinding into something that is enough to build the pleasure in your gut until you’re scratching at his back and bucking your hips with more controlled fervor.
Falling apart in his embrace as he twitches his release into you, kissing your neck and shoulder and mumbling praises as he falls back and drags you with him. Rolling you both over, still connected, and dragging the sheets over your bodies.
Not willing to remove himself until soft, and even then the proximity between your bodies is forbidden from growing any wider.
