Synopsis. Name: Fushiguro Toji.
Age: (Do not ask unless you wish to be kicked).
Type: Bos taurus—in other words…a bull hybrid.
Other notes: This particularly proud bull hybrid is already mated—with you! Is known to be a patient and attentive mate, despite his rough exterior. Although if Fushiguro Toji isn’t available when you go into heat, you know who to ask…your sweet farmer Shiu.
Got enough milk for two?
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader x Shiu Kong
Content. MDNI, fem!cow hybrid!reader, bull hybrid!Toji, farmer!Shiu, farm AU, hybrid AU, somewhat Iove triangIes, heats, ruts, matìng bonds, accidental heat-inducing, Toji turns that truck around, thrèesome, mmf, somewhat eiffeI tower, oraI (m + f), fìngering, spìtting, suffocating (he hopes to), chokìng, tongue f, brief breathpIay, Toji’s BIG, size differences, making it fit, pushing down on stomach, RULES, teasing, running from it, Toji’s mean, Shiu’s rather nice, MANHANDLlNG, fuII neIsons, Toji’s pìercings, taking turns, impromptu bIindfolds, guessing games, punishments, p talking, p sIapping, DP, big stretches, cervìx smooches, a bit fruity, Iactation, dùmbification, pùssydrunk Shiu, pheromones, creampíes, cúmpIay, KNOTS, implied marathons, implied brèeding, getting together, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.8k
A/N. I’M BAAAAAAAAAAAACK and in honor of my 21st birthday thought 2 + 1 = 3. How about a 3soooome?? A continuation of this fic by me but can be read aIone, previous fic inspired by this tiktok by the gorgeous @/v4mpyrf4e <33
“Y’know…” Toji’s chuckle comes out sharp—it hits the back of your neck in a steaming pant. And he doesn’t have to use entirely a lot of force to drag you backwards- just the simplest tug usin’ his headlock and you’re gasping down his length.
Just as you have been for hours now- for what feels like days.
The ground beneath you is dampened with sweat and spittle, those sun-cured hay cubes are a mess- your throat is run absolutely ragged. And yet Fushiguro Toji wasn’t one to slow down - especially not during his ruts.
The bull hybrid leans in—and you can feel the smoothness of his septum dragging down the side of your face. He’s wrapping his tail around your left thigh and hauling you to his hips. “-you’re never gonna find another mate like me, girl.”
And just as you’re opening your mouth to answer - to agree, to gasp, to sob - the doors of the barn house slam open.
And there stands your dear farmer, Shiu Kong.
Now, Shiu Kong must have known what he was walking into.
He must have-
Or at least one would think—hell, Shiu himself had assumed so and mentally prepared himself for about fifteen minutes outside the barn house before walking inside to tell the two of you to keep it down (those sensitive horse hybrids were complaining!) But he had never expected- fuck. This was all that damned Kusakabe’s fault.
It’d been about two months since Fushiguro Toji was added to his farmyard roster. Ever since his supposed ‘best friend’ had gone and dumped the proud bull hybrid on Shiu’s otherwise idyllic farm. It was meant to be temporary - just a few days watching over him until Kusakabe returned from a Hybrid Farms Convention in Tokyo. Meant to be…
But he was bigger than the rest. Broader. Gruffer. With pierced ears and the sleekest black coat on his lower half.
So Toji had drawn gazes - one of which being from you, his most prized cow hybrid, specifically.
And Shiu couldn’t have that.
Especially not given the fact that you were the sweetest, softest thing…oh, alright you were his favorite. A part of him almost expected that having a prime bull hybrid around so many unmated cow hybrids would be nothing but trouble. But he just didn’t expect Toji to go after his favorite- anyone but you.
Thus he’d spared no expense keeping the two of you apart.
Yet in the end it hadn’t mattered how many padlocks (twenty, at the last count) or planks that Shiu had fastened on Toji’s separate enclosure—because a padlock is only as good as it’s locked. And only three days into Toji’s stay, he’d forgotten to lock that damned thing before leaving the farm on an errand- was about halfway out of town by the time that he’d remembered.
And turned that truck around in the middle of the highway.
Of course, by the time that Shiu actually arrived at the farm and thrown those barn house doors open - much like he had done tonight - the two of you were already tangled up n’ mated. With you humming delightedly into Toji’s neck—bite marks down every inch of it. The creamy scent of pheromones wafting out of the barn house and saturating the farmyard air.
And Toji himself hadn’t spared you an ounce of mercy.
As teeth marks were indented all along your supple skin; especially ‘round each areola of yours which Toji pinched. Letting milk flood out of Shiu’s beloved cow hybrid. Looking straight at him.
Fuck.
Shiu remembers it as clear as day.
Did he mention that he was rock-fucking-hard then? He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that…
Because it only makes him think about how hard he was right now, too.
He was staring at a vision that was quite similar: Toji was ramming into you like there was no tomorrow- so fast that he’s only seeing the blur of his angry cock and the smack-smack-smacking of skin-on-skin. Except this time you were on all fours.
So Shiu was given the perfect view of your pretty tail swishing from side-to-side. Only growing more agitated as Toji grows faster.
The farmer watches as Toji’s hand wraps around your tail and drags you backwards- so disrespectful. A few more bite marks. A few more shakes of your pretty thighs - he gets the sense that you’d be collapsing onto the floor if Toji wasn’t helping hold you up. And once again Shiu’s struck by just how pliable you are underneath the other man.
“C’mon now-” Toji grunts. “Giddy up. Almost there.”
You’re shaking even harder. Your skin was glistening with sweat. Your eyes dazedly drift towards the other man - and he knows by that glint in your eyes- he knows it.
He knows that you’re about to cum.
And you’re throwing your head back with what he assumes to be a moan announcing your crescendo—“Shi- oh.”
Oh.
Were you about to…?
Oh fucking-
And Shiu considers himself an intellectual man - he really does. He’s usually quick with his quips and isn’t the most inerudite of the rowdy bunch down at the bars; but this…this leaves his brain blue-screening and his mouth hanging stupidly open. Almost in a mirror of yours.
He can only stand and watch - cock throbbing in his denim overalls - as you’re tremblin’ all between Toji’s harsh thrusts. The way he fucks you is rude—as if the sound of the other man’s name on your lips almost spurs him on further.
He had to remind you who your mate was, after all.
You’re growing limp once your wave of bliss is completely bated. And it’s with a deafening slurp! that Toji himself finishes.
Polishin’ off what Shiu assumes to be your sweetest inside with his long, clingy ropes of cum- so much so that he’s seeing a ring of white start to formulate around Toji’s length. Lucky fucker. Shiu’s mouth goes dry as Toji pins your hips to the hay-littered ground and fucks and fucks his cum into you ruthlessly.
After a few prolonged minutes, he finally sets your waist free and lets your body droop onto the floor completely.
And between pants, Toji manages to whisper- “What the fuck?” Though his keen senses had already picked up on the fact that the farmer had intruded on your little…rut session, it’s only now that Toji’s finally turning.
The veins on his neck popping and prominent. Eyes greener than the brightest field - narrowed. It was as if he was finally seeing the farmer as more than simple amusement or some guy to poke ‘round with his horns sometimes - a challenge.
Was it just Shiu or were Toji’s horns looking extra sharp tonight?
“And remember that.” Shiu speaks with courage that he did not have—to hell with not biting the hand that feeds. Shiu might’ve been the farmer but he was less than a pigsty in Toji’s eyes. Or so he felt. “Next time your pretty girl cums, she’ll be saying my name.”
Toji doesn’t even pull out of you before he snipes- “Next time you say shit like that, they’ll carry you out in a wheelbarrow.”
You, pointedly, kept your mouth shut to avoid saying anything more inflammatory.
And you best believe that he’s stepping back from those barn house doors as soon as he could - what was that he said about considering himself an intellectual man? He’s letting the doors slam behind him and waiting for a moment outside until he hears the two of you start it up again—those horse hybrids and their beauty sleep be damned.
With that said, Shiu takes a deep breath and heads back to his farmhouse.
The time was 12:28AM and he spends the next hour rubbin’ his cock raw to the memory of you almost moaning his name.
.
.
.
“…What did you just say to me?” And something must’ve shown in Shiu’s tone, because his friend groans from the other end of the line—‘oh, c’mon man-’
And never in his life has he let out a louder sigh. Pointed, too.
Because here Shiu was carrying on his early morning duties - ensuring herd checks and watering some of the trees, just going into the barn house to do some milking - when he gets a phone call—and from who else? Kusakabe Atsuya himself.
Now, Shiu has long since gotten used to dreading Kusakabe’s phone calls. The man’s his best friend, but a phone call from him was never bound to end well - he’s the entire reason he has a massive bull hybrid mated with you in the first place. So needless to say it didn’t start off on the right foot. But then the words left his mouth—
“-Tokyo Hybrid Farm Convention-”
And Shiu almost ended the call then and there.
But Kusakabe must’ve had an inkling. Because he yelped out a few pleas- “Wait wait wait wait- please, I promise you’re going to want to hear this.”
And Shiu had no choice but to groan and comply. At least hear the man out. “Alright, but you better be quick. The cow hybrids need to be milked before noon.”
“Oh please- you and I both know that you’re just impatient to see your ‘pretty girl’, yeah?” Kusakabe hurries before his best friend loses his patience. “Anyways—hear me out- there’s a Hybrid Farm Convention in Tokyo-”
“I’m not-”
“And this time it’s for the hybrids.” Kusakabe cuts him off. Then basks in Shiu’s stunned silence for a few seconds, “And I know I ended up dumping Toji on you for a few days…and eventually…permanently, but let me make it up to you by getting him a new hoof-trimming chute. And maybe while I’m there I can even get him fitted for a new bull ring.”
Shiu rubs his chin in thoughtfulness. “I have been meaning to get him a larger one…”
“Then it’s settled.” Kusakabe says gleefully. “I’ll get you the ring and take Toji off your hands for a day.”
“Can’t it be a few days?” Shiu grumbles.
“No way, man. He’s all yours- consider me the babysitter.”
“Whatever- better than nothing.”
“So I’ll pick him up in an hour or two, yeah?” Kusakabe affirms, and from the other end of the line Shiu can hear some shuffling. A truck door slamming. “I’ll have him back to you around midnight.”
“Take your time.”
And with just a few more words shared, Shiu’s ending the call. He stands at the door to the barn house in a way far too reminiscent of the night before—and from here he can see you nuzzlin’ up to Toji for warmth as the early morning sunlight creeps into your hay-scattered abode. It really was a heartwarming sight, the two of you - if only Toji wasn’t glaring at him as if he wanted to trample over him.
However, this time, Shiu was the one with the upper hand. “Guess what, hotshot?” He goads at the bull hybrid, and it works to make his ol’ golden nose ring huff. “You’re going to be going on a little field trip today.”
Toji scoffs and rests his chin on your head.
“Oh no- I’m afraid this one’s going to be a bachelor’s trip.” The most wicked smile twitches at his lips. He watches Toji’s brows furrow and his front legs start to kick at the ground as if about to charge. “You’ll be going to the Hybrid Farm Convention in Tokyo with your old pal Kusakabe, isn’t that exciting?”
The look on Toji’s face was ‘most certainly not’.
“Then we can replace that old-fashioned ring of yours with a new one. Make that ugly mug a little more handsome, hm?”
“My ass is more handsome than you.”
“Real mature.” Shiu shakes his head as Toji flips him off and struts away outside—his midnight-black hair gleams under the morning sun, and the muscles of his upper half are almost Herculean. Shiu follows your gaze to the bull hybrid.
With a fond chuckle, the farmer then walks over to you and runs his fingers across your scalp. Reaching that one spot he knew you loved so much- scratching behind your hybrid ears. “I don’t know how you put up with him, pretty girlie.”
“He’s really not that bad once you get to know him.” You’re softly nuzzling into him.
Shiu shudders as he thinks back to last night. “Yeah, well I think I know him a little too- hey, are you feeling a little warm?”
“Hmmm?” Absent-mindedly you’re humming.
“I’m serious, girl.” Shiu’s brows furrow- and he’s taking his hand off of your scalp to feel the temperature on your forehead. “I think you’re a little warm.”
Eyes closed, you’re only pushing against him- yearning for his touch. And Shiu tries not to think about that too hard. “I was just in the sun, Shiu.”
“Yeah but…” Now that he thinks about it- you were particularly touchy today—almost needy. And he’s sure he wasn’t imagining the scent of soft sweet cream that lingered in the barn house today. Although that wouldn’t make sense - cow hybrids were prone to one heat cycle a month, for about a week give or take.
And you’d just finished your cycle two weeks ago…Shiu would know.
He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep those past few days. And as if that wasn’t bad enough- immediately after your heat, Toji’s rut had started up.
The farmer turns his head and looks at the little homemade calendar hung up at the end of the barn. It contained all the dates of the hybrids’ heats and ruts and when he might expect them next—and not to brag, but it had a 97% accuracy rate. The 3% was when Toji wanted to piss him off and somehow manage to draw his rut out a little longer.
But according to that- you should be in the all-clear. He furrows his brows at the color-coded green zone. What can he say? Shiu Kong liked pretty things, okay?
Aforementioned Shiu Kong looks at you. “Maybe…hm, maybe it’s just a little fever, pretty girl. That brute must’ve worn you out.” You’re shyly bumping your shoulder into him, and he runs his hand across your body. “Now then I need you to get some rest, okay? Go sleep and I’ll bring over your breakfast- oh.” Just then, his hand dips up to the swell of your chest where your tits were. “And I’ll milk you tomorrow depending on how you’re feeling, does that sound good?”
Almost dazedly, you’re nodding with a smile. “Mmm s’good, Shiu.”
A thrill zips down his spine - he ignores it. “G-good. Go on now.” And right before he himself leaves the barn house, Shiu says. “And do try to convince Toji that it’d be good for him to get a new ring. The fool doesn’t realize the power he has in emptying Kusakabe’s pockets.”
Shiu gently closes the door to head back to his duties.
He flips Toji off behind his back.
.
.
.
At 12:21PM on the dot (Kusakabe said he’d be here half an hour ago) his best friend’s truck is parked in his vast farmland. And Shiu helps Toji into a hybrid trailer—he could have just gone in the passenger-side seat, but Shiu didn’t trust Toji one bit to not just open the door and jump out. Perhaps even outrun that truck at the first instance of missing you.
Honestly, he might just do the same with the trailer too…
But Shiu doesn’t tell Kusakabe this - instead he’s letting the man load his prized bull hybrid. And then clapping him on the shoulder, “Alright- he’s your problem now.”
“Just for today.” Kusakabe rolls his eyes. “A day longer and he might just drive the truck himself getting back to his mate.”
He whispers, “…I wouldn’t count on him not to do that today, either.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” Shiu amends. Looking at the huffing n’ puffing Toji inside the trailer, arms crossed. “Just that he’s a romantic.”
“That he is.” Kusakabe tips his hat and waves himself off. “Alright- midnight, yeah?”
“Like I said- take your time.” He says, eagerly- perhaps a little too eagerly.
The other man gets into the truck and slams the door shut - the force causes that hunk of rusted metal to wobble and creak, like an old man’s laugh. Shiu gets the sense that the entire world seemed to be laughing at him at that moment—including his best friend. Was he really that obvious?
Shiu walks up to Kusakabe’s window and leans against it. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
“Oh- nothing.” Kusakabe has the audacity to wipe off a mirthful tear. “Just that it reminds me of back then. Bet you’re really happy to have some alone time with your pretty girl, huh?”
“You say that like it’s been ages since Toji’s been here.” Shiu scoffs. “She’s known me longer- probably still likes me better too. You know she only lets me-”
“-milk her.” Kusakabe interrupts. Amusement on his features at the familiar words, “Yeah yeah. You’ve said it once before, man. Or maybe twice. Thrice. Fifteen times-”
“Whatever, man.”
Shiu kicks off the side of Kusakabe’s truck and gives it a customary slap on the bonnet.
“Drive safe. Even if you get stranded this time, I’m not coming to pick you up.”
“What a friend.” Kusakabe starts pulling the truck ahead and calls out as he goes. “Take care of the pretty girl when her mate’s not around~”
“You know I will.”
And as he watches the truck pull away with Toji inside the trailer—the bull hybrid lets out a mournful sound. It’s as Shiu feels a soft head rest against him that he realizes you’d joined him in the farewell; longingly watching your mate be hauled off.
“It’s just for the convention, pretty girl.” Shiu mutters to you. He reaches to scratch behind your hybrid ears but- the faint heat radiating off you makes him pause. “Is…it just me or has your fever gotten worse?”
“Mmm, dunno.” You murmur thickly. You push deeper against his body and Shiu’s suddenly hit with a lingering scent of dairy and fresh flowers, presumably from last night.
“If this gets any worse then we might have to pay a visit to Dr. Shoko…”
Fervently, you’re shaking your head.
Although you liked the cool and composed otter hybrid, Dr. Shoko, actually visiting the doctor was another thing. And so Shiu let it slide - for now - as he advised you to stay out of the sunlight and get some more rest—he’ll bring some cool drinks over after he’s done tending to the horse hybrids’ hair.
Shiu watches as you totter off into the barn house once more.
He’ll have to keep a close eye on you…
.
.
.
3:18PM
The farmdog hybrids were particularly energetic today - Shiu spent just about two hours straight neglecting his tractor maintenance to throw frisbees with them. Ah, to hell with that old thing. Maybe next time he’ll accompany Kusakabe to those Tokyo conventions and see if they have discounts on tractors.
Although he knows he shouldn’t have been so careless - but you can’t blame a farmer for letting loose! Especially not when - usually - whenever he did this sort of thing—it’d only end up with Fushiguro Toji trampling all over the frisbee for the sake of it.
Especially not when it’s exactly what got him to notice the state of you in the first place.
Shiu had thrown the frisbee too far. It had landed somewhere by the pond, and Shiu didn’t want Ino getting his coat all muddied again- so he told the canine hybrid to stay put as he himself trudged through all the vegetation and too-soft earth. Ah…remind him to unweed this mess sometime soon. Spike rushes stuck to his boots, and water lilies waded towards him as the farmer determinedly made his way to the frisbee.
Just bending down to get it when-
Letting out softly—“Oh.”
When Shiu spots your curled-up self on the side of the pond bank—all cocooned amongst the lush vegetation like a little treasure just for him. He tries to shake that thought out of his mind.
You startle awake once he steps on a twig attempting to get nearer to the frisbee- “Easy there.” His deep tone soothes you. “Easy. Easy. It’s just me.” You’re following the voice and settling down once you recognize him. “What’re you doing here, pretty girl?”
“Just resting.” You respond. Now that you were sure there wasn’t any danger, you’re settling back down into your comfortable position. “The water helps keep me cool, y’know?”
“That pesky fever’s still bothering you?” Shiu reaches down to measure the temperature on your forehead - and sure as day, he’s feeling the heat simmering. If he wasn’t mistaken—it was just a tad hotter than what he remembered it to be when saying goodbye to Toji. “Hm…it doesn’t seem to be getting better on its own. How about a visit to Shoko’s?”
“Shiu…” You whine.
“Now now, missy.” He tuts. “I need you to be healthy- not only would Toji kill me otherwise, but I wouldn’t forgive myself either.”
“I’m feeling fine…really. It’s just a little hot.” You insist. “Today’s been really hot- I promise m’gonna feel better once the sun goes down.”
“Hmmm. Alright.” Though Shiu still didn’t seem all that convinced. “But you won’t cool off with water just by looking at it.”
“What do you-”
But those words are getting stuffed back into your throat once Shiu takes a little run-up and throws himself into the pond. Creating a resounding splash! and sending a wave of water into the air—like translucent sun-glittered frogs that take a soaring leap and land on you.
You’re yelping as the cool water lands on you- “Shiu—! You little-”
And then jumping in after him.
He throws his head back and lets out a deep, joyous laugh. And if he smelled the soft fragrance of honey suckle and fresh cream…then he imagines some of the other cow hybrids are ready for milking again.
.
.
.
6:21PM
Shiu wasn’t celebrating—honestly.
Even he wasn’t that tactless.
It’s just that it was a little quiet without Fushiguro Toji around to cause trouble with the other hybrids, or with any guests, or with Shiu…or with practically anyone that wasn’t you. He wondered whether you realized the sheer extent of his special treatment. Which was why he decided to spoil the lot of you - especially you - today.
And for this Shiu’s apples were amongst the most famed in these parts - he hears they went for thousands of yen each in Tokyo. Lush and luxurious. Like biting into a piece of heaven—he knew that the hybrids were particularly covetous of this rare luxury. And luckily for him, they’d just been harvested today.
So why not give you lot a little treat?
Those stingy middle-men would be here to load up the apples tomorrow morning; so before that he herded his hybrids to the picturesque orchard. Where the apple trees embraced the groves from either side, the tops of their branches nearly winding into the sunset-painted clouds and pulled them back, and beneath them lay crates upon crates of apples like treasure pots at the ends of rainbows. Those apples seemed to gleam even brighter as the sun dipped beneath the horizon; gilded.
And Shiu kept his hands on his hips, a proud smile on his face, as he watched over the hybrids picking apples and digging through crates. All except for…
“Where’s…”
Brows furrowed- Shiu turns around and spots you slumped against the wooden entrance to the orchard. Those towering pillars were intertwined with vines, and amongst them you looked like the prettiest rose.
“Something wrong, my girl?” He walks towards you, handsome features pinched in concern. Immediately, Shiu’s hand goes up to feel your temperature once more. “Fuck-” And almost as soon as it makes contact with your forehead, he’s pulling away—
“Shiu…”
“You’re burning up- pretty girl, why didn’t you tell me that it’d become this bad?” He hisses. And then he’s reaching down to gently clasp your hand. Those caramel-brown eyes of his are just so soft…“C’mon- lets get you to Shoko’s before she’s off—”
Yet oh-so-stubbornly you’re shaking your head. “Promise m’okay, Shiu.”
“But-”
“It’s not a fever.” And the hairs on his body stand on end at those words. If not a fever, could this be…“I think it must be the heat or something- that and Toji did wear me out a little last night.”
His jaw clenches. “I’m sure. But I still think it would be good to go for a check-up.”
You’re averting your gaze from his. “I’m alright. Trust me.”
And though Shiu was clearly displeased by this turn of events—how could he ever say no to his favorite girl? It was almost embarrassing how easily he’s bending to your will- and letting out a sigh he attempts to make sound annoyed rather than fond. “Oh, alright…but at least try one of the apples. I’m sure they’d be good for you.”
“Of course-” Then you take a step - and the faint dizziness that’d accompanied your fever makes you nearly fall into Shiu’s chest. Thankfully the farmer catches you easily with his scarred palms darting to your waist, his broad arms wrapping around your body- and the tips of his fingers graze where your tail starts.
And both of your breaths hitch-
“Hey boss- can we dig into the pears too or are those off limits?” Ino’s blissfully oblivious tone shatters whatever strange atmosphere had seemed to concentrate between you two.
And you both jump backwards as if electrocuted.
“The uh- the what-” Shiu whirls around at the farm dog hybrid, “Not a chance. Don’t even think about touching those.”
“…Oops.”
“Those are ¥5000 a pear-” He pinches his nosebridge and groans- as his most trusted dog hybrid scampers off with an armful of pears. As he does so, Ino’s dropping one on the grass that Shiu’s bending down to pick up. Wiping off the non-existent dust on his denim overall, Shiu pulls a pocket knife out and cuts a clean slice of pear in mere seconds.
Calm and controlled.
Somehow, just seeing how competent he was with it made something at the pit of your stomach- twinge.
Before you know it, Shiu’s holding the tempting slice out to you. “Eat.” When you look at him in hesitation, he chuckles handsomely. “They’re about to raid the pears anyway, so you might as well eat.”
And so you do - he watches every minute expression of yours as you bite into it. That glimmer in your eyes. That smile.
Fuck…
Chomping on the luxurious fruit, you’re soon raising your nose into the air and sniffing.
Shiu raises a brow, “Something wrong? It’s not rotten, is it?”
You shake your head and continue sniffing. “No, it’s just…” Your ears twitch towards him- and he finds it so cute how they move almost all on their own. “Something smells good.”
“The pear?”
“No.” Shaking your head once more—the way you look at him then is just…different. “Like apples. And caramel. And honeysuckle.”
Shiu scratches behind his neck. “Well, I don’t know about the caramel- but we are in an apple orchard.” Gesturing at the sprawling land. “Help yourself.”
You smile and rub yourself against him lightly, soon joining your friends.
This was proving to be quite the strange day- fuck, were you getting hotter?
.
.
.
11:59PM
“I should have taken you to Shoko’s in the morning—”
This is all Shiu’s fault.
This is all Shiu’s fault.
But to understand just how badly he’d messed up, one would have to rewind the clock to about two minutes and twenty seconds ago; it’d been a long day at the farm. Exhaustibly so. Even more so than usual, Shiu was dead-tired—it was practically subconscious the way in which he’d scrubbed himself clean and slipped into his favorite pair of pajamas (the ones with the cows and barns on them).
And he’d just - just - sat himself down on the creaky sofa in front of the TV, to get in at least five minutes of his favorite cheesy soap operas before he zonked out before it…when the front door started rattling.
Wait…rattling?
Knocking.
Shiu sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he heaved himself to a stand- “Yeah, yeah m’coming…don’t break the damn door down.” He’d at least expected Kusakabe to give him a call before he returned and started trying to leave him doorless- but ah.
Shiu was grumbling a few choice words underneath his breath as he swung the front door and screen open. Only to be met with—
“Pretty girl?” In split-seconds, every ounce of sleepiness leaves Shiu as he darts to hold your faintish body. Your head was drooped, and your breaths were coming out rapid. You were supported by only some of the other cow hybrids. Immediately his hand is flying to your waist, and he’s throwing one of your arms around his shoulders- before giving up on any inhibitions and pulling you into a proper princess carry.
A worried Ino and the others trailed after. “The cow hybrids let me know that there was something wrong, boss. So I brought her here.”
“Good thinking. Thank you.” Shiu just barely has the thought to murmur. He hurries to sprawl you out across where you would be most comfortable: his bed. “We need to contact Dr. Shoko immediately.”
“It’s not her time of heat yet, right?” Ino asks from the doorway. Behind him were some of the other members of the barn house looking in concern.
“No.” Shiu shakes his head. He glances up and sees the commotion- “It might be a fever, or maybe it was too hot out? I don’t know—fuck, I should’ve just taken her in the morning when she first told me.”
“Should I get the truck ready now, boss?”
“Sure. But I don’t want to move her much right now- poor thing.” Shiu looks on sadly at the way you’re gripping his soft pillows and smushing them to your face—breathing them in. “I’ll call Shoko and see if there’s anything we can do from here-” Reaching over to his bedside cabinet and picking up the phone, “You guys get some sleep, and I’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“You’ve got it.” Ino nods- and then he’s herding the rest of the barn outside.
In this little bubble of his bedroom, this little nook of the farm which smelled like fresh cream and honeysuckle, and had the air of sluggish mornings that made one’s eyes droop; it was just you and Shiu and the ringing tone of Shoko’s clinic.
Ringing once.
Ringing twice.
It cuts and Shiu’s trying Shoko’s personal number this time. She picks up almost instantly- “Hello?”
“I’m not going to ask about the integrity of your sleep schedule, but I need your help-”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
And as Shiu lists off your symptoms - the clamminess, the rapid heartbeat, the puffs of pheromones now filling up his bedroom, and more importantly…the wetness between your thighs (he wasn’t a lecher- he promises, it just-so-happened that Dr. Shoko had asked him to double check as part of your symptoms) - he himself starts to get an understanding of your diagnosis. You were in heat. But-
“But wasn’t her heat just two weeks ago?” There’s a shuffling of papers on the other end of the line as Shiu realizes Shoko must’ve gone through your file at home. “And she isn’t known for having any irregular heats.”
“Could this possibly be triggered by something external?” Shiu asks.
“It is possible.” She answers. “Have there been any changes to her environment? Something that may trigger a stress response in her?”
“Well, just today I had Toji go out with my friend to a convention- could it possibly be the distance?” He suddenly feels a drop of guilt at possibly being connected to why you feel this way.
“Hmm, I don’t believe so. Mating bonds are of the nature to be most volatile in close distances, rather than when they’re apart.” She hums thoughtfully. “You said that her mate was away today, right? And this started just today? Have there been any…other changes?”
Shiu raises a brow. “Other?”
And he can’t see her, but he gets the feeling that had they been in her office- then Shoko would have her fingers crossed and a grave expression on her face. “Yes. Has she been close with any other hybrid on the farm? Perhaps nuzzling up to them? Perhaps giving off her scent?”
The tips of Shiu’s fingers, clutching the phone, feel utterly numb. “…Yes.” Him.
“Well then. I believe the matter is quite simple, Mr. Shiu.” Tell him. “It is a strange phenomenon in which the hybrid seems to have two mates.”
“…” He can’t quite seem to close his mouth. “What?”
“Precisely.” Shoko speaks as if merely commenting on the nice weather or a particularly good football goal.
“B-but—” Shiu clutches the phone and tries to keep his volume from rising so as not to awaken you - you’d fallen asleep wrapped in his sheets now. Nose stuffed into the fabrics coated with his natural musk. “I thought hybrids mated for life? With only one-”
“Most often, yes. But there are rare cases in which a hybrid might find themselves connected to two others, or even three. Sometimes these connections may be latent and only make themselves known when triggered by a heat or time apart from her original mate.” His jaw just keeps dropping. “And it seems that in your cow hybrid’s case, in the absence of one mate she found her second mate’s connection activated. This is likely what caused her to go into heat.”
“So it’s official-” He begs. “She’s in heat now-”
“Yes, and I suggest you just let her do what needs to be done with her second mate in order to get it out of her system, otherwise she may feel rejected.”
And it seems that the conversation was coming to a close- for there was a note of epiphany in her words. But before Shoko could end the call, he questions once more. “And about the…double mate thing- does that also mean that the second mate is mated to the original mate?”
There’s a pause.
“Well, I suppose that’s up to you, Mr. Shiu.”
Wait how did she—
And then she ends the call.
Shiu holds numbly onto the phone for a few seconds - the silence felt deafening. Before a sudden stirring makes him dart his eyes over towards you.
Like an angel.
Your face was half-pushed into one of Shiu’s pillows - also patterned with cows and barns - and that blanket of his had twisted ‘round your body like a snake now—clammy with your sweat. Your fingers were clawing at the old creaky mattress, and your knees were pushing higher, and between them were- oh.
Were another one of his pillows.
And fuck- he’s never felt more jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life.
You were reeling your hips back—thrusting them forwards again- grinding down on the pillow. Wetness was seeping between those pretty, shiverin’ legs of yours and staining the cover. From here he could see a dark splotch starting to stain the silken fabric - smelling like the sweetest honey scent.
And it makes his mouth water.
“Baby- baby…” Shiu lovingly pats your leg, dawning you completely awake. He could see now that you were in the throes of your heat - but those eyes of yours were completely alert. “I need you to get comfortable, okay? This is gonna last about a week.”
“I’m in heat?” You blink. “Dr. Shoko said you’re my mate, Shiu.”
“So you heard that, huh?” He lightly chuckles. “Just know that we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. Heats don’t necessarily affect humans-”
“Then why’re you so hard?” Though that tone of yours was utterly innocent - the look in your eyes wasn’t. You knew what you were doing to him—and you’re only hiking up the temperature between the two of you as you’re leaning in.
On wobbly arms, you’re pushing yourself up n’ leaning in so close-
Oh, how he’s dreamed of this exact scenario so many nights before. In this very bed. With his hand wrapped around his cock.
And Shiu knows he’s talking out of his ass - it’s the inhibitions taking over now…“You’ve got me there- but what about Toji-”
“Isn’t he your mate, too?”
And then your lips are on his.
.
.
.
Fushiguro Toji feels a disturbance in the force.
He can’t quite explain it- it’s nothing that he’s seen or even something that he’s felt. Nothing tangible to give reason to this madness. It’s just that something was…off. Kusakabe notices the hybrid squirming in his seat - yes, it seems that he trusted the bull hybrid enough to let him ride shotgun - and turns on the radio.
Just Toji’s luck, it was Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra.
“Turn it off.” Toji scoffs and crosses his arms.
“Why? Remind you of a certain someone~?” Kusakabe asks in-between singing at the top of his lungs.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
And even though Toji is merely looking at the smaller man- he shrinks into his seat. Did he mention he’d sharpened his horns for today? Kusakabe whimper, “O-oh nothing…nothing, just that ah- the lyrics might be a little reminiscent of ah-”
And Toji was even more infuriated because of that nagging sensation- that strange…fuck. “Spit it out.”
Kusakabe lets out a squeal and looks as though he utterly regretted letting the hybrid sit next to him. “J-just the fact that Shiu mayormaynothaveacrushonyourmate—” It’s out before Toji could even register it. “Pleasedon’tkillme-”
“If I kill you who’s driving?” Toji had now unbuckled his seatbelt despite Kusakabe’s protests. Snooping around the truck and trying to trace that little- scent? “What is that infernal- fuck. And I already know that farmer’s got a thing for her - though I’d pay for him to actually try. Would love to see his face as she rejects him.”
“Really? Because she was looking all cute and cuddly and a little feverish this morning.”
“What.”
And then it hits him—that scent. Fresh cream and sunny days and honey-
You were in heat.
“Fucker, step on it.”
Kusakabe whirls towards him. “What-” But before he can finish, Toji’s grabbing onto the steering wheel and damn-near crashing them on the highway as he speeds ahead.
The radio trills: ‘I can’t believe he’s so trustin’.
While I’m right behind you thrusting.’
.
.
.
“Mmm—” Shiu’s lips are hot and persistent- letting off the most sensual mwahs! as he continues the pattern down the side of your neck.
Listen, Shiu Kong might not be a hybrid like you, but if he kept his nose pressed against your sultry skin then he could almost feel it—those pheromones.
It was wafting off your skin like an atmosphere that was entirely your own, a gravitational pull constantly tugging him closer; the sweetened scent of honey and freshly-whipped cream. It made him blush. It went straight down to his cock.
Fuck that- it was taking over him.
A guttural groan rips out of Shiu’s chest- he kisses a pathway down the middle of your body until he’s reaching your core. Once he does, he gives the hottest wettest kiss of all to your cunt—“Oh, baby. Lean back a bit f’me, yeah?”
And then he’s pressing an open palm on top of your stomach. Pressing you to recline on the bed.
“Good girl.” Shiu rumbles. Low. “Now squeeze those pretty legs around my head- yeah, just like that. Tighter.”
“Tighter than that n’ you’ll suffocate.” You gasp.
“What about it?”
Using his own strong arms - so fucking beefy from years of work at the farm - Shiu wraps your thighs around his sweaty head. His sharp, straight hair tickles your inner thighs; so much so that the farmer has to tell you to settle down. “Easy there- eeeeasy there, girlie. I’ll make you feel good during your heat.”
“I’m not a damn horse.” You huff.
“Yeah, because you’re gonna be the one riding, huh?”
The gasp that flutters its way up to your throat doesn’t get the chance to escape- because the question on Shiu’s tongue curls around your cunt. He’s letting the squashy end of his tongue dip between your swollen pussylips—giving you a loooong lick where you were most tender. Those cushiony tastebuds of his were massaging you already- and the way he’s twisting his tongue so deliciously as he enters—
“Oh.” You’re arching off the mattress, thighs plastering to the side of his face. And yet your pussy’s openin’ up for him so invitingly. “Keep going, Shiu…”
“Had no plans of stopping soon.” Gurgling wetly between your legs.
His tongue was just so soft and smooth.
The way he’s adjusting it in and out makes your mouth just water. In and out. In and out. Shiu notices that every time he hooked his tongue around the outer rim of your entrance made your pheromones surge. Fuck—that heat of yours was affecting him, too, and leaving him sippin’ on your pussy like an aphrodisiac.
Lavish lips plastering aaaaall over again and again- “Mmmm, my pretty cow hybrid. No idea how I lasted this long without this.” Breathing through his nose - he didn’t want to waste a single second of this. His usually-deep timbre shakes with pleading desire. “And what can this do?”
You’re squealing once you feel thick fingers curl around your tail. “That’s my tail…”
“I already know that, pretty girl.” Shiu shakes his head fondly - as though you’d been the one to say something ridiculous. And in-between lapping away at your leaking pussy, he tugs softly on your tail in order to bring you closer. “But what can it do-”
“Well she likes getting it pulled during doggy position.”
Both of you would have recognized that voice amongst a thousand bull hybrids - ten thousand. That stature. That scent of freshly-cut grass and something deeper…something more alluring.
“And sometimes if you bite it she starts clenching like crazy.”
Fuck.
Because neither of you had heard the door click open - except maybe in what felt like a distant dream. Something worlds away.
You’re feeling a sense of déjà vu.
Shiu’s feeling cold sweat breaking out as he realizes that he hadn’t actually locked the door. In fact.
Whoever had opened it must be gripping it so hard that its oak frame was starting to splinter-
Both of you experience a pang at the pit of your stomach- a draw. And Shiu gapes as he looks down at himself—what the fuck was that…? He’s looking up at Fushiguro Toji standing in the doorframe with the same shocked expression.
“The hell do you think you’re doing with my girl?” Toji spits, scarred lips twisted.
“Listen, man-”
“You’re not going to make her cum eating her out like that.”
“I…what?”
Toji manages to make Shiu shut up. This must surely be a dream? And it’s just about enough time for the other man to cross the distance between the door and the bed - kicking it shut behind him - and make himself quite at home on the bed. The mattress creaks under the weight of the hybrid; and you yourself are letting out a soft moan.
He sits beside where you were sprawled-out, facing Shiu.
“You see…my pretty girl here-”
Shiu mutters underneath this breath. “Fuckin’ stealing my pet name too, now?”
But Toji has the courtesy to ignore it - for now. “-has a certain set of rules she needs to follow.”
At this, the other man’s brows raise in interest. Satisfied at the attention; Toji himself traces his dominant right hand over your stomach, your hips, before lowering down to your cunt and holding those puffy pussylips of yours open. Pushing them apart. Pryin’ them apart.
Both men gulp at the way you’re clenching around nothing.
“See…she might look all innocent and sweet- but she’s a proper little slut.” The words almost make Shiu flinch - and the bull hybrid takes great care repeating them. “Your…pretty girl is a proper- little- slut. And I know that she likes being fucked like one.”
And before either of you can make a move - Toji’s swiftly craning his head down and spitting a great glob of saliva on your cunt.
It trickles over your exterior and smears along your inner thighs- and Toji takes his sweet, sweet relish in swipin’ off some of that excess and popping it into his mouth. “So?” Toji asks. “Eat her out.”
Eat…Toji’s own mate out? Like this?
“What?” Toji has the audacity to look shocked. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing her- don’t act like you haven’t been fantasizing it. You’ve wanted her even before I arrived at this damn farm.”
Shiu’s lips tremble- he almost wants to because hell, he’s been given the permission now. And yet…“Is this some sort of trick? You’re not gonna use those horns on me afterward, are you?”
“No, not at all.” The other man replies - almost too breezily. He raises his brows at Shiu expectantly. And stares deep into Shiu’s eyes as he says. “So? The fuck are you waiting for-”
Those mere words make Shiu’s cock stand painfully erect.
However, there’s a reason they claimed that Fushiguro Toji was a ruthless man.
Because humans always did move far too slowly for the bull hybrid’s liking. And he wastes not a second more before pawin’ at the back of Shiu’s sweaty scalp - taking just a moment to bask in the utter shock upon his features - and shoving—
Straight between your pretty, pretty thighs.
Which he honestly didn’t have to do because—well fuck, you didn’t have to ask Shiu twice to eat you out. Shiu lets out a strangled grunt that turns into a moan.
And without further ado, he’s back latched onto your pussy- those handsome cheeks of his hollowing out as he sucks n’ sucks. And you don’t know whether he was doing this for you or himself.
Shiu ate you out like he was going to die of thirst if he didn’t.
“Fuck-” He hisses. With every movement of his face, he nuzzles himself closer. “Fuck fuck fuck—more.”
Syrupy breath sticking against your pussylips.
And his tongue was even worse-
“My pretty girl. More.”
He’s slithering it aaaaaaaall along your outer cunt - lapping up every wad of slick you were gifting him - and then rubbing his textured tastebuds along your exterior when it just wasn’t enough. Because your cunt was practically an aphrodisiac for him.
It’s as if the heat was contagious.
Because the longer he’s spending between those gorgeous legs of yours - the more he’s blabbering like a damn fool. The murkier his eyes are growing. The harder and harder his hips are coming crashing—! down on the rickety wooden frame of the bed—pathetically dry-humping it in time with the thrashes of his tongue. Slipping right between your velvety folds and yearnin’ to taste the honey between.
That thick silkiness of his tongue was just dizzying.
He was cleaning up the mess that Toji’d made earlier—tasting him, tasting you. Shiu’s face grows warm as he remembers.
That dextrous tip of his tongue delves between your pussylips - entering that cute hole - and is lapping up everything you’re giving him. “Babydoll, fuck my mouth even deeper.” Needing more. “Even deeper.”
“F-fuck- shit, shit shit.” You’re trilling out. “You’re practically nose-deep. How can you possibly go any deeper?”
With a needy whimper, you’re letting your hybrid tail swish towards him - and without further ado Shiu takes it and wraps his fist around it. Giving a gentle tug. Fuck.
And when he actually discovers that he’s able to manhandle you further onto his mouth with that tail of yours- nothing’s stopping Shiu from increasing his strength to give you a mean haul. “Mmm- yes- oh, Shiu. It feels so good, Shiu—!”
“But not good enough, right?” Toji speaks over you, in a haughty tone.
Your hybrid ears twitch in confusion.
And before you know it, you’re feeling the sensation of Shiu’s slithering tongue disappear.
You whine out in disappointment. And you already know that that mate of yours must have something to do with it-
Sure as day; Toji has his fist gripping Shiu’s jet-black hair and reeling him back. The other man obviously had his face twisted into something ferocious, and the tension made the atmosphere pinch. But underneath that…there was an undercurrent of sweetness…the mottling of Toji’s gleeful pheromones mixing with his lustful ones.
And Shiu’s, too.
And if you weren’t mistaken- was that a faint blush on the tips of his ears?
It seems that Toji notices, too. “See anything to blush about here?” Then his eyes dip down to you. “Oh…right. Heh.” Leaning in oh-so-closely to the other man; Toji whispers in a gravelly tone into his ear. “But if you stand around blushing and bein’ a wuss for too long, then just know that she’s not gonna wait. She’s gonna dry up~”
He spits once more.
So disrespectful.
And then turns down to Shiu and warns. “Don’t eat her out just yet. Rule number one…” Your heartbeat races as he speaks those familiar words - Fushiguro Toji never was one to care for rules…unless it was in bed. “No running.”
“I’d never run from this pussy.” Shiu frowns.
“Not you, nitwit.” Mercilessly, he’s planting a smack at the back of the farmer’s head. “Her. Don’t let her run.”
Seemingly getting the green light to start up his sensual ministrations again- Shiu slowly starts lapping between your pussylips once more. Proddin’ his thickened tip into the deep orifice of your cunt. “B-but she’s not-”
“Look.” Toji interrupts. Just as you were starting to buck and lift your hips off the sodden mattress. “Look at the way she’s moving ‘round.”
“But that’s just-”
“But this pretty cow hybrid is in heat—and you can’t just leave her uncomfortable like this, can you?” Those dazed eyes of Shiu Kong’s open wider. He faintly nods. “So aren’t you the farmer?”
He nods again - looking as though he was about to faint.
“So herd your damn cow hybrids- c’mon- don’t let her run—” Spurred on even further by his words, Shiu’s plunging back in-between your legs and usin’ his tongue for his life.
Opening his mouth wiiiiiide to make sure that he’s able to reach every nook and cranny—the end of his tongue was just so dexterous and somehow managing to slip into spots you hadn’t even known you had. “O-ohhhh, fuuuuck-” Moans just keep bubbling out of your lips. “It feels so good, Shiu-”
And just when it looked as if you were about to buck—Shiu grabs ahold of your hips- so hard that he leaves neat semi-crescent nail marks on your skin. Plopping you back down onto the bed.
Plopping you back down onto his face.
From then onwards, he doesn’t let you move a single inch as he’s thrashin’ away his fat tongue inside your cunt. Stretching that pussy out to his textured tastebuds.
And Toji had been watching the entire display closely…very closely. With his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. “Good.” His head threatens to tip backwards as he gives a harsh tug on his thickened length. “And now rule number two: squeeze those gorgeous legs around your head. Doesn’t matter if you suffocate.”
“That- that’s what I said—” Shiu keens.
“Then why’re you speaking?”
Goosebumps run down Shiu’s arched spine. “Oh…”
“A cunt like hers isn’t to be taken for granted.” Toji tuts from above you, and you can’t help but ogle the way his biceps bulge as he pushes down Shiu’s head. “Deeper.” Harder. “Deeper. Don’t waste time talking. Don’t waste time gawking like an idiot. In fact-”
His heated words make goosebumps scatter across your open thighs.
And you whimper-
“-don’t even breathe.”
They’re both driving you absolutely mad—
Toji catches your left ear between his fingers- as it’s been swatting furiously away the more aroused you grew. So soft beneath his touch.
He uses it to urge your mouth down to where his lap was.
“Rule number three…let her fuck back into you- but only if she really…really deserves it.”
“Make the pretty girl work for it?” Shiu looks up.
Toji displays a priggish smirk. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”
And you don’t know what sort of expression Shiu might have on his handsome face right now - he was much too…preoccupied for that - but you can sense him nod. Short and sharp. As he keeps on lavishin’ your insides with his tongue; the farmer makes note of just how hard you’re clenching around him. “C’mon, pretty girl—” He pushes down your bucking hips. “Clench a little harder ‘round my tongue, would ya?”
“O-oh, now you’re just mean.”
“It’s what you deserve.” Toji chuckles. “Don’t think I can’t smell your pheromones gettin’ even sweeter- you’re loving this.”
You have no counter accusation - it was, after all, painfully true. And then Toji caresses your sweaty scalp with his thick digits—grabbing ahold of the back of your neck. “Now…lets see if you can be a good girl for me, too.”
An acrid sort of sweetness floods your mouth - because in mere sultry moments Toji has his legs positioned so that they’re practically straddling your face. On the mattress; he’s kneeling to the side of your head and letting his pursed, pinkened cocktip swab across your lips.
He’s rock-hard.
Instantly your jaw’s falling open to accommodate him.
And believe- that there was a lot to be accommodating. For Toji was so many countless inches, thick and decorated in a prominent network of veins across every inch of him. They zigzagged across each of his angles n’ ended up being the most prominent where your sweet spots were—Toji meant it when he said he was made for you.
He had a scruff of jet-black happy trail. He was an angry red at his tip. He was dripping precum.
It puckered out from the divot on top of his shaft—then ended up smeeeeared down the insides of your soft mouth. “Fuuuuck…” Toji himself whispers as he eases in. The bedsprings purr as Shiu bucks against the bed harder.
And before you know it, he’s reaching upwards and biting down on your throbbing clit. “Don’t forget about me, pretty girl. You’re not getting off easy. Rule number three, remember?”
“I—oh.” Shiu’s putting his fingers in now - fingers. Two of them. Long and perfectly calloused from years of hard labor to now massage your tender insides.
Both men are manhandling you oh-so-perfectly: Shiu dragging you down by your tail- and Toji using both hands to maneuver your head down. Letting you take up numerous inches of him. Thick and throbbing.
That rounded end of his shaft hits the back of your throat and you’re immediately coughing-
“Easy there.” Toji lovingly croons…“Not.” And you didn’t expect mercy, did you? Soon enough both of them are running their bodies ragged trying to draw out the most reactions from you—Toji fucking his cock into your suckling mouth, and Shiu hooking a finger not against the roof of your cunt to press on your nerve-filled spots- to make you clench. “C’mon- milk me. You can do better.”
“C’mon, little cow hybrid.” Shiu titters. His digits prove so effective in stretchin’ out your insides even more so than his tongue—and those tastebuds of his remain tickling your clit. “Won’t you squeeze me a little harder?”
“She can’t answer.” Toji laughs. “Got her mouth a little full.”
“Bull got her tongue.”
“Mmmm…” With that said, Toji’s flooding your tastebuds with a thick lacquer of his precum. He increases his pace a little more.
“Just a little harder-” Meanwhilst, Shiu whispers to himself as he keeps probing your sweet, sweet insides. “Just a little- a little—” And at precisely that moment; he’s hitting the bullseye. What else but the place marked X: your g-spot? “O-oh.”
He damn near cums in his pants.
“Just like that.” Shiu continues. “Fuck back into my fingers. I know you can, girlie.”
“Accomplished rule number three already?” Toji asks the other man. “Yer nicer than me- I know that for sure.”
“What can I say? She’s my favorite.”
After a few more thrusts n’ bucks n’ smashes at your favorite spot - you don’t think you can even formulate a coherent thought. You’re being tugged back and forth by both men—and they aren’t showing any signs of slowing down soon enough. “The fourth and fifth rules are a little alike…” Toji rumbles from above you. “The fourth, of course, is to get ready.”
“Get ready?” Shiu asks. Though by the way he feels the heat in the room - your pheromones - flare up, he’s sure you’re anticipating whatever it is.
“And the fifth is to…” The end of that sentence teeters on the edge of Toji’s tongue as he reels his hips back, back, back, baaaaack- “-take it all like a good girl.”
And that’s exactly what you’re doing.
Letting the entire length of Toji’s cock fill your mouth from tip to base- his fleshy cockhead searches your insides like a flashlight. It’s almost too pornographic the way you’re choking on his length—gagging, eyes watering.
To which of course, your beloved mate reaches down to pinch your nostrils closed. “Now now…are you the one in heat or am I?”
“Mmmpf- mmm—” You keen. Moans bubbling from the back of your throat but having no way out.
“Oi- I think she’s close.” Shiu breathes.
He could taste it in the sweet treacly syrup leaking out of you - his favorite. He could taste it in the way your cunt walls were pounding faster than ever. He could fucking smell it in those pheromones of yours that just seemed to flare to life-
“S’that so?” Toji asks. “And that brings me to our sixth and final rule: if she wants something, then she can use her words to ask for it.”
“Hardass.” Shiu scoffs.
But they’re both increasing their pace. For competition or simply to drive you mad?
The sloppiest squelches and pops! fill the room—and Shiu watches as your tail starts twitching agitatedly once the pleasure almost gets too much. Oh his pretty cow hybrid. Once you’re so close that you feel like you could burst- “Toji, she’s close—”
“Then ask for it.” Toji keeps shovelling his cock deeper. Deeper. “Fucking ask for it, doll.”
“Toji-”
Slamming into your throat with a final thwack! His balls were damn near leaving an imprint on your chin. “You can ask the farmer to help you with your heat- but you can’t ask me to make you cum…?”
“She did.”
The tension in the room falters - but never bates - as Toji turns to look at the other man. “What?”
“She did-” Shiu hastens to explain. “Ask to cum, that is…” And as if to prove his point—he’s plummeting a few more pushes with his fingers, scissoring them inside you so that those slurping suctioning noises are extra loud. “-right here.”
Toji waits for a beat.
Before he lets out a little snicker.
Before he lets out an entire laugh-
“Maybe you’re not so bad- for you, that is.” And then he’s boring his forest fire gaze down at you. “Hear that? Yer damn lucky that you’re the farmer’s favorite—hah, better thank him.” Toji’s then tugging your ear to watch you squirm just a little.
He lets out a final few thrusts.
And waits until his cock was embedded deeeep into the back of your throat - and your nose was pressed against those tufts of black at his base. Until you were well and fully stuffed full of him.
“So cum then, my pretty mate.”
And with a few more thorough slashes inside you—knockin’ Shiu’s burly fingers into your sweetest spots, slithering Toji’s length down every crevice of your mouth, you’re crashing into your high.
It’s quick and searing.
It takes over your body faster than you can register. Burning through every other thought and feeling - you’re letting out erotic moans around Toji’s cock, and they keep getting louder as it keeps prolonging. Longer and longer. The more they’re toyin’ with your throbbing, sopping cunt.
Those fervent peaks seem to get stronger - and within you feels practically white-hot in sensation. Pulling off of his bulbous tip. “Sh-shiiiiiit—” Keening out. “It feels so good- it feels so good-”
“You’re welcome.” Toji says. Shovelling his pinkish tip back between those lips.
At the same time that Shiu’s panting. “Anything for you, pretty girl.”
“Don’t fucking stop.”
Of course, as your mates they’re practically bound to listen to your every syllable.
And you don’t feel them rest - even take a breath - until your orgasm was well and almost completely disappeared from the horizon.
Tears of overstimulation were now springing to your eyes. Thighs twitching with the faintest splinters of sensitivity. “F-fuck…” Toji’s throbbing tip falls from your lips. It leaves a thin ribbon of slick connecting you to him still. You’re blabbering. “Fuck, I’m getting sensitive now.”
“Hm…Shiu climb up.” Toji says.
Both you and Shiu share a glance—and with something that looked like a half-shrug, Shiu’s attempting to heave himself up from the floor-
Only to be grabbed by Toji by the hand and yanked onto bed.
The farmer’s letting out a little yelp as he’s finding himself bounced onto the springy mattress - right on your other side. Sandwiched between the two buff, broad men- you don’t think you’ve ever felt your heart beat faster…ever smelled your pheromones so potently…
“Shiu, I need those off.” You huff. Batting those teary lashes of yours.
“Oh.” His face twists into something like ecstacy - how many times has he fantasized about those very words leaving your mouth?
And, flustered, the farmer starts unbuckling his overall one-by-one-
“We’re not trying to wait until her heat’s over.” Toji gruffs. And his veined forearm reaches across you - grasping onto the front of Shiu’s overall and giving it a good tug.
Those buckles are breaking free immediately.
The bull hybrid smiles to himself proudly. “There.”
“I should have half the mind to return you to Kusakabe…” Shiu grumbles to himself, as he takes off the rest of his clothes. That sentence makes the faintest flicker of recognition light up in his brain - really, where was Kusakabe - but it’s evaporating soon enough once you start helping him take his boxers off.
“I’m warning you in advance, however…” He starts.
“Why?”
“Yeah- are you hiding a 21-incher in there or something?” Toji scoffs.
“No no- it’s not that. I’m…above average- probably.” Shiu waves off, his burning blush creeping up onto his face again. “It’s just that I might have made…a little mess when I was eating you out.”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean by- oh.”
Oh, was right. Right indeed.
Because of course- Shiu was naturally an impressive size. About eight inches. With a much more tan tip than Toji’s - and perhaps even thicker, too - and a girth that made your mouth water. He was smoother than Toji—less veins ‘round his shaft except for a single prominent one that went around the left side. And he was curved ever-so-slightly upright, too.
But what really caught your attention was…Shiu had cum in his pants.
Just from eating you out.
“Oh…” Your eyes widen as you take in the dark splotch at the front of his boxers.
Thick ropey white cum had seeped into it- and Shiu’s hastily snatching those boxers out of your hands to throw them over his shoulder. His hands felt sticky. “But that’s neither here nor there-”
“Of course it is.” Toji says after a moment of contemplation. “I’m adding a seventh rule.”
Yours and Shiu’s eyes pop open.
“Shit.”
“Shit-”
“What?” The bull hybrid looks at you both in mock innocence. “I was just going to say that the guest goes first…”
It’s…unexpected. To say the least. But you weren’t complaining - and by the way that Shiu’s reddened length perks up at the idea, you don’t think he is either.
“Um, so how do I…”
Toji angles himself towards you- “Get up a little, doll?”
You arch your hips off the bed; and Toji’s taking the opportunity to sidle his own hips underneath them. He’s manhandling you so that you’re simply sprawled-out on his chiselled front—and oh, how your mouth waters at the sensation of his rippling pecs and abs. The way they’re massaging you from behind at even the slightest movements—was that his v-line?
And did you mention that Toji just-so-happened to have the cutest ringed piercings through each nipple?
They’re pushing into you from behind once the hybrid hooks both hands underneath each of your legs. And he’s lifting them aaaaaaaall the way up until your knees hit your tits. Spreading you wide, wide open.
A full nelson.
Except…this time, it’s Shiu’s who’s going to be basking between your legs.
The aforementioned man takes a courageous gulp as he shuffles on his knees between your legs - and Toji’s - to lovingly gaze at you. “Fuuuuuck, my pretty girl…you really are so gorgeous.” Shiu whispers- underneath his breath as though he didn’t even mean for you to hear.
His darkened eyes sweep down your body like a caress. “The way that pussy’s dripping so much- shit, s’like a flood down there. Can you even feel yourself?” You’re squirming at his lecherous words. “And those legs. Trembling. And the way you’re just throbbing- I can see it from here.”
You’re gasping as he presses his hot length down on your cunt.
Sandwiched between each of your pussylips: Shiu doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight. “You’re just so dirty, girlie~”
You shudder.
And Shiu could have kept going- it absolutely killed him to tear his gaze off of you. It really did.
But Shiu could sense Toji starting to get impatient if the slightly souring tint in his pheromones was anything to go by- hey, look at that…he’s reading pheromones now. Mentalling patting himself on the back; the farmer starts slide-slide-sliiiiiding his fattened-up cock between your precious folds. “Easy there, girl?”
“Yeah yeah- we’re easy.” Rolling his eyes, you’re getting jostled as the hybrid underneath bucks. And at this point, you’re honestly wondering which one of you was more excited for his entrance…“Just get on with it.”
“Unlike you, Toji, I don’t just- get on with it.” Shiu sounded offended at the mere suggestion.
And as you both look towards him for further clarification, Shiu nervously bites down on the inside of his cheek and pushes his swollen cock down the slit of your cunt. “It’s just that…” He lets his particularly large tip kiss your hole. “-what if I end up hurting my pretty girl during her heat? I’d never forgive myself.”
“How cute.” Toji snickers. But there’s something that you recognize there—appreciation? “But not if you follow our rules, farmer boy. Remember those?”
Shiu rolls his eyes. “How could I forget?”
“Yeah- recite those.” And you’re gasping once one of Toji’s meaty palms drift up to your face - covering your dazed peripherals. “We’re both going to take turns fucking her using those rules, and my mate’s going to guess which one of us it is—how about that?”
“Mmm, sounds fun.” You smile.
And seeing that gorgeous smile of yours - what else was he supposed to be but putty in your hands? Shiu’s giving himself a few pumps before starting to press into your tight rim.
You’re tight.
So fucking tight.
His brows furrow n’ sweat starts beading at his forehead as he slowly - sloooowly - starts easing his proud cock inside. You’re arching into Toji’s back, whilst Shiu probes into your deepest depths. “O-oh.”
It was something so different.
Although he wasn’t exactly as vein-covered as Toji was; Shiu’s length managed to have the perfect curve that prodded ‘round the roof of your cunt. Somehow directly aiming for those tender spots inside—you’re feeling the pointed end of his shaft draw sensual zig-zags inside and you’re immediately begging for more.
Of course, that’s when Toji’s silently signalling Shiu to pull out.
Replacing the farmer’s cock with his instead.
Thick. Throbbing. Those patterns and groves on his shaft were just dizzying- and Toji’s already rendered your eyes sprinting to the back of your head with but a mere few inches inside you.
He’s making your first ring of muscle streeeeeetch- and pressing a second overlarge hand down on your stomach to keep you from movin’ around too much. And you don’t need to see him to reach blindly behind you and tug on Toji’s newest bull ring—
“Don’t be mean, Toji.”
“S’not being mean, it’s just the rules.” Toji argues. His words come out in sizzling pants against the side of your face - somehow just his presence seemed enough to make your heat symptoms two times worse. “Now that the practice run’s over…”
Your eyes are fluttering open- only to see nothing past the gaps of Toji’s thick fingers. “That was just the practice run—?” Your poor puckered hole was already pulsating with friction.
But neither of them are answering.
Instead, it just seems that they’re intent on fucking any question or comprehensible thought right back into you—because just you’re feeling a sudden intrusion deep into your core. The bulbous head of it swipes apart your puffy pussylips- and the next thing you know, you’re seeing nothing but stars at the neverending inches of one of their cocks.
Somehow managing to probe even deeper than the first time- whoever this was was so fatly swollen that his cockhead opens up plunging crevices inside you. Perhaps even new ones.
You’re gasping away- “Please.” Both men are impressively managing to keep quiet as they’re easing inside. Not completely bottoming-out…but enough to make your toes curl. “Oh, please that feels so good.”
Hips attempting to chase more- he was going so slow.
But just as soon as you do - almost the very instant that your hips are breaking contact with the skin of Toji’s toned pelvis - you feel one of his hands pin you back down. Preventing you from moving a single inch.
Your hybrid ears rustle with the huff of laughter from behind you—and you know that there’s only one man who’d keep a hand oh-so-possessively on top of your womb as he sinks into your soaking wet cunt. Rule number one, remember?
“Toji-” You’re sputtering out, voice breaking so prettily at the end of your plea. “T-Toji move a little faster- ngh, please—”
Yet another failed attempt at a buck. “Good job, doll.” He gnaws on your ear lobe. “But don’t think we’re done here just yet…”
And then before you know it, he’s pulling out. The action lets out the loudest, sloppiest little plop! of pleasure between your legs- and it feels as though firecrackers are going off through your veins.
You’re practically shaking once another intrusion starts proddin’ between your legs. This time a bit more…timid. A bit more hesitant. A bit more inexperienced and careful—and you don’t have to pay attention to anything more as Shiu creeps your legs around his waist.
Letting his tunneling cockhead push into that wet hole of yours.
Unlike Toji, however, Shiu Kong simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Oh…” It’s just about the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard - like music to your ears. But could you really blame the guy? “Legs- rules number t-two, remember?” This was the first proper taste of that syrupy cunt he’s getting—the exact same one he’s been dreaming of for ages…as much as that makes him sound like an utter pervert.
Maybe he was.
Maybe- what even was he? What was his name? Who was he?
Shiu can’t formulate a single thought.
Maybe he should be concerned about that…but for the time being, he’s collapsing his lower half into you. Funneling the smoother length of his cock inside; the farmer is the first of the two to actually bottom out. Thighs against your thighs. Forehead against your forehead. Cocktip against your cervix.
You swear you’re feeling Shiu intrude all the way up to your throat—“Shiu…keep moving, baby.”
“Oh- oh, you seriously want it?” He asks between uneven pants. And even more uneven are those semi-thrusts he’s poundin’ away at the back of your pussy—unwilling to break contact with your sopping womb for even a split-second to thrust back in. “You seriously want this ol’ farmer to fuck you like this? And that’s not just the heat talking-”
“It’s always the heat talking.” Toji scoffs. “This slutty girl’s always in heat. Honestly- who told you it could come early?”
“S’not my fault.” Shiu taps the side of your thigh to signal to you that- oh…you’re getting dangerously close to Toji figuring it out.
Sure, it seems that he’d deduced by now that there was something regarding the startings of a mating bond between you and Shiu. And what sort of hybrid would come between that? But the fact that Toji himself shared it…
Thankfully in that moment Shiu’s creating a distraction - unintentional or not. Because just a few thrusts and he’s already starting to bead out hot, glutinous cum that sticks to the back of your pussy.
“Shit…” Shiu whispers to himself. You’re sensing one of his hands reach downwards to squeeze ‘round the base of his length—perhaps thinking that that would stop him. But the only thing Shiu’s managing to do is milk out a few more cobwebs of cum that are getting fucked and fucked in by his irregular thrusts. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Time’s up.” Toji cuts him off gruffly. “It’s getting too easy- hurry it up.”
“Yes…sir?” Fuck- he hates to admit it but the bull hybrid was correct.
Ah…you’d expected for the two to alternate between thrusts. But you just didn’t expect it this fast. Because all of a sudden, Toji’s going from merely caressing your front to wrapping his entire left arm around your middle. Oh, those beefy forearms of his were simply indescribable.
Then Shiu’s reeling his sloppy, cum-glazed cock backwards for one of them to replace it in no time.
Such plump inches of their shaft. Such impatient semi-thrusts as he leaves your mouth watering. He’s increasing his pace twofold once you’re accommodating him inside, and Toji’s pressing his palm deeper against your face. “Oh-” And you hadn’t expected them to stick to their damn six (or seven) rules so much, either…“Fuuuuuuck. Is it Toji?”
“Nope.” Shiu chuckles. From where he was positioned in front of you, the farmer leans down and kisses your lips. “Still me.”
In punishment, you’re getting a heavy spankin’ on your stuffed pussy.
“Shit.”
“And the rule-” Toji pipes up from behind. “What about the rule?”
“What about the rule, I mean—” It’s just then that you’re realizing - you haven’t been able to squirm a single inch since Shiu had begun swabbin’ your poor insides. “Rule number one- rule number one.”
“Good girl.” Toji laughs. “Next.”
And you’re soon coming to the realization that they weren’t going to make this easy for you: due to everything from their rapid alternations, to the way that both of them were fucking you so stupid—
“Toji-” You’re dragging your nails down whatever body part of Toji’s that you could reach. His biceps flexed underneath your touch. “And the rule is…oh, the rule is…” Brain landing on the closest one that you think you could remember. “Rule number six?”
“Half-correct.” Toji punishes you with yet another spank. The white-hot pain and pleasure that runs up your cunt is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “That was actually a trick round - no rule.”
You bite. “Silly me…”
“But half-correct deserves just a little bit of a treat, doesn’t it?” Shiu makes your case.
And the ever-mean Fushiguro Toji considers it for a few seconds - before he’s nodding and letting his fingers dip between your pussylips. Rolling over clit in circular motions. “Happy?”
“V-very much.” You respond.
And so the cycle repeats - as both men are fucking into you like damn animals.
“Shiu? Rule number one-”
Thwack! “Half-correct.”
“Toji? Rule number five.”
Thwack! “Half-correct again, doll.”
“Toji? Rule number six.”
Thwack! Thwack! “Wrong!”
“Shiu-”
“Toji-”
Shiu. Toji. Shiu. Toji. Shiu. Toji.
Over and over again—until you’ve said every rule at least five times, and their names countless amounts so.
It was almost getting too much. There’s another switch; and this time the thrusts are like none before them. They were harsh. They were jagged. They weren’t hitting with any specific target or objective in mind—just with the sole purpose of indentin’ his fat cockhead into every spot inside you, and hitting his hips to yours until you skin was burning-
“Toji?” You’re guessing, “Ruler number- fuck…the one about getting ready-” Based solely on the way that both men had their hands tapping at your hips to let you know when a particularly hard hit was coming through.
“And which one is that?” Toji croons.
“Number four-” There’s a victorious little pebble of precum that Toji’s emptying out into your insides.
“Mmm, good catch.” And you’re feeling the smile crawl onto your face. “But I’m not Toji.”
Fucking—thwack!
“But how about just a little reward?” And then a hot mouth starts kissing down the valley of your breast - from this angle you could only assume that it was Shiu.
Shiu was lapping the soft targets of your areolas…just lightly biting…and oh—he lets out a wet gasp as a thin stream of milk flows from your tits n’ into the handsome man’s mouth. “Oh- this might just be my reward.” He says as he keeps massaging your chest, twiddling his fingers over where you were most sensitive.
“Leave some f’me.” Toji grunts at the other man.
By this point you were a blabbering mess, and it didn’t help that the other two were only growing sloppier by the second. Perhaps it was the heat affecting you three. Perhaps it was the pressure being put on all your bodies - crushed together like this. Hips driving into you again and again and again—
Another globular tip swerves inside you. “I-is it…Toji?” You ask. Your lower lip wobbles at the sudden stretches on places that couldn’t be reached without such a girth - both of them had their merits and it was hard not to long for…both. The mere thought fogs your mind. “And is it…”
Though there could only be one answer. At least for this one.
Your poor tail’s being used as a lever to drag you down onto Toji’s extremely thickened cock until you sat on the bottom of it. “-rule number five?”
Toji kisses the side of your face. “Now that…is 100% correct.”
“And what would you like as a reward? Tell your Shiu anything, pretty girl.” Shiu says—drawing a half-serious scoff from the hybrid.
But of course. There can only ever be one thing.
Your mouth opens and the confession slips out of you before you can think it through fully.
And then there’s a beat of silence- hell, you think even Toji’s hips began to falter. For but a mere split-second before he’s bashing in the soft spongy platform at the end of your cunt—“Oh.” He breathes. “I don’t see why not…”
Thrill shoots through you.
And for the first time in a while - Toji removes his palm from your face. You’re wincing ever-so-slightly at the sudden flood of light, before that expression turns into something akin to yearning as you stare at Shiu’s cock throbbing between your legs.
He was almost out-of-place with Toji’s fat length already stuffed inside you.
“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” Shiu whispers to himself as he glides his blushin’ cockhead to drag along your outer cunt. Uuuuup the planes of your thighs. Lingering on that leakin’ slit that was so stuffed. And then squeezing the very tip-top reddened crown of his shaft into your entrance—did he mention that you already had Toji’s fat length stuffed inside you?
Shiu’s expression morphs at the tightest fit-
“Shit- fucking shit, are we sure—”
“Why not?” Toji asks. And Shiu thinks that that’s damn easy for him to say; especially considering that he was already kept hostage inside your gooey inside. That’s where Shiu was trying to be.
He’s attempting to drag you in using your tail.
The other man is rolling his eyes - and his hips. Letting off a few useless semi-thrusts that doesn’t push him even a single inch inside—not with the extremely plump circumference of the hybrid’s length inside. “Oh yeah? Then why don’t you- hah, pull out and try doing it yourself if you think it’s so easy?
“The early bull gets the pussy.” Toji smirks. “Besides- don’t tell me you’re forgetting rule number five already? The one about taking it all also means that you have to- mmm, put it all in-”
“I remember.” Shiu spits. Hands pushing your legs further open and grindin’ his hips close until his happy trail was roughly massaging your clit. “I’m just saying that it’s hypocritical to talk about the rules when even you wouldn’t be able to-”
“Guys-” You shrill above the constant arguing. “Guys.”
It takes you raising your voice loud enough to make the bedroom walls shudder for them to finally hear you.
And once they look at you- you’re huffing up at them. “I’m making my own rule.” Both pairs of pretty pussydrunken eyes widen in unison. “From now on- if you fight then you have to kiss and make up.”
“What-”
“What-”
“Pretty girl…” Shiu attempts to appeal to your softer side.
“Nuh huh.” Shaking your head. “So kiss—and then just fuck me.”
They share a look as if to question whether usurping of the rule-making was allowed…before it seems to dawn on them that yes—if it was you. And Shiu’s shrugging and leaning in - all the while still keeping his pulsating cocktip present between your folds - and Toji meets him halfway with only a few grumbles.
Shiu moans into the kiss.
And with a resounding sluuuuurp! he’s managing to squeeze just an inch or two of his cock inside. Double lengths stretching your walls until you were seeing white-
“Oh- oh.” You’re moaning. Shiu now had everything he needed to reel his bulky hips back and start pummeling you in time with Toji’s own thrusts. “I’ve never felt anything like this before—”
“Me neither.” The farmer manages through clenched teeth. The sensitive underside of his cock was rubbin’ and getting pulled by Toji’s own - those patterns of his veins, and the rock-hardness that mirrored his own - and even the slightest friction was enough to send spirals of white-hot pleasure pouring out of his bawling divot.
“Tch- fine…me neither.” Toji groans. “But it only feels good because of me-”
“In your dreams.”
Without even being asked to or reminded of the newly-minted rule, they’re pressing a kiss onto each other’s lips—and then yours. Their pheromones twisting and melding into one. Their skin growing even more heated. Their cocks growing faster-
And faster.
Both Shiu and Toji were moving at sloppy, lust-hazed paces that should not be possible for such a tight cranny. And yet they were managing to time it so that you’re feeling both of them exactly in the best ways: Toji and his deeeelicious veins pressing their patterns onto the sides of your channel, Shiu and his upright curve that spotted all your best nerve endings.
They’re sandwiching you from above and below, too—Toji and his Herculean build, Shiu and his similar yet broader- and somehow stronger build.
They’re absolutely ruining you.
Ruining you.
Fucking you until your pussy’s feeling rattled and raw- and your eyes have completely bleared over with tears. Brain fried.
So it isn’t long before you’re feeling the pangs of an oncoming orgasm, and letting your mouth open to announce it—
“I-I’m going to cum.” But in actuality it’s Shiu that manages the declaration. And he’s stuffing his face into your tits, suckling out the sweet sweet milk that your hybrid body produces as he strings your gooey insides with his cum. “My pretty cow hybrid, I’m gonna stuff you full.” Looooong ropes of satin. So hard- that Shiu’s forced to hold onto both yours and Toji’s horns as he fucks your overstuffed pussy through his orgasm.
Those veins of Toji’s were making him twitch in pleasure.
You and Toji are crashing into your high rather soon afterwards too.
“Gonna…oh.” As the forceful waves of dopamine flood through every vein and atom inside you—practically make you vibrate with pleasure. You’re letting your eyes fly to the back of your head, and your toes curl as both men thrash that gooey g-spot of yours.
Perfectly synchronized with every peak upon peak of your high.
The prolonged wave of bliss soars—and it’s around the very crescendo that you’re feeling Toji empty his heavy balls out as well. They’d been thwack-thwack-thwacking! near the bottom of your slit for so long now, creating a carnal ache over your outer pussy- and it just feels so good to feel those globs of cum flood your deepest caverns.
Where Shiu had already made a mess before- “Shit…don’t stop.”
And it’s with renewed vigor that they’re fucking and fucking you through the white-hot pleasure - so good that you’re sobbing. In-between this euphoric experience is when Toji’s keening his hips up into yours- chasing the wetness of your cunt even more—
Not just to fuck his pearly-white droplets of cum inside - but to try and squeeze, fuck, his swollen knot inside.
“Inside—” As you demand needily at your bull hybrid, Shiu watches on in something akin to awe. He starts nudging his hips back as though to give Toji more space-
But you’re wrapping your legs around his hips and dragging him to you. “Rule number one, remember?”
Letting Toji fuck his knot inside you as Shiu has his twitchin’ wet cock stuffed in there, too. The stretch was indescribable.
You think you’re cumming all over again just from it.
“My- my mates…” You’re sobbing out- sandwiched between the two buff men. Shiu leans in to kiss you, and once he’s taking a good long look at Toji too.
“My mates…I suppose?” He says with a sheepish smile.
Toji looks between the two of you, seemingly having connected the dots. “Does this mean I’ve gotta get both of you pregnant?”
You smile. “Sounds good to me.”
Shiu. “Wait-”
Because heats lasted a week for hybrids.
Shiu better get his human stamina used to it.
.
.
.
“I’m sorry…what?”
It’s a sentence that Shiu thinks he’s going to have to get used to a lot—telling people that the cow hybrid you’d had a crush on for the past few years but then gotten mated is actually your mate too - and that by association you’re her mate’s mate but honestly not really complaining about it is…for one a long sentence.
And two, it’s probably going to get a bunch of weird looks.
It sounds like the stuff of a fantasy, maybe even those romance stories; and Shiu’s well and fully aware of how he sounds when he says it.
Which is why he’s telling Kusakabe first - it only seemed appropriate.
“It’s exactly as I said.” Shiu states matter-of-factly. “And you can ask Dr. Shoko if you think there’s been any mix-”
“No no, man. It’s not that I don’t believe you.” Kusakabe interrupts him. “In fact, I think it’s great that you finally managed to do something about your feelings- congratulations, man.”
“Thank you.” Shiu watches the herd from the door to the barn house - inside, the only pair were you and Toji. His breath hitches once you’re walking over from Toji to nuzzle up to him. He reaches to scratch behind those silken ears of yours—“But then what was all that about?”
“Ah- no, it’s just…” There’s a truck honk from the other end of the line, and Shiu realizes that Kusakabe must be going somewhere. “I assumed it was actually about the bull.”
Shiu squints. “The what thing?”
“The bull thing. I guess Toji forgot to tell you since you were a little preoccupied. But last night when Toji took over driving my truck we happened to run into…everything.”
Shiu snorts. “Serves you right.”
“And man- I needed this truck to transport this new bull hybrid for ol’ Gakuganji down in Kyoto. You know how he gets. It’s the only one big enough so…”
And now…now Shiu wasn’t exactly having fun. “…And?” The two of you were looking at him in interest now, clearly having heard something about another hybrid—and Toji especially had had his smirk growing in synchronization with the increasingly ashen look on Shiu’s face.
“And so Toji said it’s alright, but would you mind looking after this new bull for a few days until I get the truck fixed? Just for a few days. I’m actually on the way there right now so thank you. His name is Sukuna and-”
summary. you are supposed to get the weed, pay, get back to your stoner circle of friends. keyword: supposed to. but you’re stupid hoe, you forget the money, you left your dignity with shoko, and toji said shoko suck dick to get discount. you? you got fold.
words count.
triggers/warnings. rough consensual sex with dub-con/coercion undertones (power imbalance between college student buyer and older weed dealer), semi-public sex in a private gym backroom, degradation mixed with heavy praise kink, overstimulation and forced multiple orgasms, prolonged edging and repeated orgasm denial, squirting, massive creampie with cum play (licking clean from pussy, sharing/tasting cum via deep kiss), hair-pulling, spanking/slapping (ass), oral sex (male receiving blowjob, male giving cunnilingus post-creampie), no condom/PiV bareback sex, internal ejaculation and visible leaking cum, humiliation and verbal degradation, dirty talk (including objectification, ownership language, slut-shaming, and praise), hair-pulling used as leverage/control, spanking as punishment/reward, age/power dynamic (young broke student vs older dominant dealer), transactional sex, references to drug use (weed), intoxication-adjacent themes, intense physical aftereffects (sore/swollen genitals, trembling legs, leaking cum while walking/driving). No non-con, no violence beyond consensual kink elements, all acts portrayed as ultimately desired by the protagonist despite initial reluctance/coercion play.
you’re already pissed and you haven’t even made it to the fucking block yet. it’s sweltering—july heat pressed to your spine like a wet palm, fucking horrible. sweat making your cotton tee cling to your lower back while your thighs stick stupidly to the cracked faux leather of your roommate’s old-ass hand-me-down civic, the one you swore you wouldn’t drive anymore after that thing with the steering fluid.
traffic’s crawling like it’s on benzos and the phone on the passenger seat keeps slipping down every time you brake, which is every other second because god forbid anyone in this city drive like they passed a test. and on speakerphone—of course it’s on speakerphone—shoko’s laughing at you while gojo’s doing that thing where he fake-moans in the background and geto’s muttering “damn, she really sent you alone?” like it’s not his weed too. like you’re not the sacrificial lamb in this whole degenerate little stoner friend circle you never even asked to be in.
“look, i’m not even the one who smokes the most!” you hiss, gripping the wheel like it personally insulted you. “you all could’ve just fucking gone yourselves—”
“but you’re soooo innocent,” shoko croons, voice smug and sleepy like she’s lounging on her balcony with a joint already lit, probably sipping wine at 3pm like her life’s not on the brink of academic collapse too. “he might give us a discount if you show a little titty.”
“she’s gonna get robbed,” gojo says, laughing like a full-volume jackass, and you hear the clink of a lighter flick, followed by his telltale wheeze as he coughs on the inhale.
“she’s not gonna get robbed,” geto says, way too calm about it. “toji likes her type.”
you nearly swerve into the wrong lane.
“EXCUSE me?”
“you know. the dumb ones.”
“i have a 3.8 GPA!”
“yeah, in marketing.”
your scream echoes through the cabin. the phone slides off the seat again, thunking against a crusty water bottle and your half-empty iced coffee, which sloshes violently but mercifully doesn’t spill. you snatch it up and jam it back in the cup holder, ignoring the way shoko’s cackling now like it’s her fucking birthday.
this was supposed to be a simple errand. pick up the stash. come back. get high and eat pizza. but nooo, shoko had to go and run out the day before the final group presentation, and now all of you are teetering on the edge of burnout, one red bull away from dying in a google doc. except unlike everyone else, you got elected tribute, because “he’s nicer to new girls” and “you’ve got tits he hasn’t seen yet” and apparently that’s enough to send you into the slums of shinjuku looking for some underground weed plug who sells out of the back of a gym.
“this is exploitation,” you mutter, rolling down the window just enough to spit your gum onto the pavement. the air is thick with piss and heat and fried oil from some sketch-ass stall down the block that smells like heaven and hepatitis.
“it’s a social exchange,” shoko corrects smugly. “you get weed, he gets a little eye candy. maybe a blowjob if you’re feeling generous.”
“if you don’t come back with an eighth at least,” gojo adds, “i’m not letting you hit this indica. and it’s the one that makes you see god.”
“i hope you fucking choke on it.”
“love you too, sweetheart.”
you hang up.
the gym is squat and grimy, wedged between an abandoned massage parlor and a curry shop that always smells like someone’s wet sock. its signage is cracked and sun-bleached, the windows blacked out with film so thick you can’t even see silhouettes inside. a cardboard sign hangs crookedly in the door: “ring bell or fuck off.” very classy. your stomach does a little drop. not fear exactly. just... nerves. or maybe guilt. or maybe you’re thinking too hard about what shoko said.
you’ve never met the guy in person before. always heard stories, though. apparently he’s some ex-something—mercenary? killer? the guy who lifted a vending machine once with his bare hands? shoko said he used to fight people for fun. and now he just sells weed and works out all day. like a retired apex predator gone slightly domestic. dangerous but chill, if you didn’t get on his bad side. which, hopefully, you won’t.
you shift your skirt down a bit—black pleated, technically a size too small but who’s counting—and reapply your lip gloss in the cracked rearview. a deep breath. okay. hot girl dealer time. slut it up just a little for capitalism. shoko did say he liked praise. maybe he just wants someone to call him strong and pretty.
you ring the bell.
no answer.
you ring it again, longer this time. the door clicks. opens with a low, mechanical creak, revealing nothing but the dark smell of rubber mats and sweat.
then—
“you’re not shoko.”
the voice is gravel and heat, low and slow like it’s dragging itself out of a pit. toji fushiguro appears from behind a weight rack like a fucking boss fight, shirtless, skin sheened with sweat like he’s just finished tearing someone in half. his hair’s a little damp, falling over his brow, eyes half-lidded but sharp as hell, like you just interrupted something sacred. like you’re prey and he’s thinking about licking the plate clean.
he stares at you, towel draped around his neck, sweatpants slung loose on those fucking thighs like they’re allergic to modesty. and you—god, you freeze. like a dumbass. because he’s hot. dangerously, stupidly hot. like he looks like he’d laugh if you fell on your knees and call you cute for trying. like you suddenly get why shoko always comes back smelling like smoke and latex and regret.
“uh,” you say, brilliantly. “hi.”
“you shoko’s friend?”
“yeah, i’m—she sent me to pick up. for the project.”
he cocks his head. a slow grin spreads across his face like molasses on heat. “she send you alone?”
you nod.
he steps forward. the floor creaks under him. you’re hit with the smell of him—salt, musk, a little weed, a lot of testosterone. the kind of scent that makes you dizzy even though your legs are still working.
“first time buyin’?”
“face to face, yeah. usually we just... i mean she... she handles it.”
he tilts his head again, wiping his neck with the towel. “you nervous, princess?”
your stomach lurches at the nickname. somewhere deep in your brain, something very stupid turns on.
“n-no.”
he laughs. low. deep. thick like molasses and twice as sticky. his eyes skim you slowly, like he’s taking stock, like he’s reading the little tag on the back of your neck and deciding how much you’re worth.
“you look nervous.”
you don’t answer.
“don’t worry. i don’t bite. unless you want me to.”
and holy shit. you haven’t even asked about the price yet.
he holds the door open for you with one veiny forearm braced against the top of the frame like he’s doing it on purpose, showing off the full stretch of thick muscle and that little dent in his bicep that makes you feel like your brain’s gone soft from heatstroke or maybe sheer sexual humiliation, because now you’re wondering how much that arm could wrap around your neck before you’d stop pretending to care about prices and just let him split your legs open like a sandwich bag. but you walk in anyway, pride first, head high, face blank even though your thighs are doing that little clenchy thing traitorously underneath your stupid micro-skirt. inside it smells like sweat and blunt wraps and a hint of citrus cleaner like someone tried to pretend this was a real establishment but gave up halfway through the mop bucket.
the gym is dim and muggy and cluttered with benches and racks and a single punching bag that looks like it’s been hit so hard it developed trauma, and toji doesn’t bother turning on more lights, just lets the dusky heat settle in your collarbones while he strolls ahead, sweatpants slung low and towel tossed now over one shoulder like he’s modeling for a very horny prisoner’s dream journal. you follow because what else are you gonna do, go back out there with no weed and your friends waiting to laugh at you? he leads you past a protein shake bar that’s got more liquor bottles than supplements, down a short hallway, then into a back room with a metal table and a low couch that looks like it’s been fucked on a dozen times without ever being cleaned properly.
he drops onto it like a lazy king, legs spread wide, one arm slung across the backrest while the other reaches under the couch and pulls out a small black box with worn corners and a heavy metal latch. he flips it open, reveals a collection of baggies like he’s about to hand you something sacred, and you almost gasp because holy shit, it’s the good shit, purples and crystals and sticky glisten that says you’re about to forget what deadlines and dignity are.
“alright, baby,” he says, slow, dragging the word out like it’s honey dripping from his mouth. “what you lookin’ for? party stuff? sleepy stuff? somethin’ that makes you forget your name and say thank you every time you breathe?”
you blink at him, then shake your head like that’s going to reset your IQ to normal.
“uh, whatever’s strongest. like, the one that makes gojo shut up.”
toji snorts. “ain’t nothin’ that strong.” he rifles through the box, pulls out a dense little nug in a vacuum seal, holds it up between thick fingers. “this one’s called coma slut. knock your ass flat and leave your pussy hummin’ for two hours minimum. shoko loves this shit.”
you reach for it. “cool. how much?”
he grins. doesn’t hand it over.
“five thou.”
you pause. blink again. “what?”
“five thousand. yen.” he says it slowly, like you’re dumb. like he knows you’re dumb. like he likes that you’re dumb. “you want the premium, princess, you pay premium.”
“shoko pays like thirty-five hundred!”
he grins wider, white teeth flashing like a predator. “yeah, but she sucks dick.”
your jaw drops. he shrugs, easy, casual, resting his big hand between his thighs like it belongs there, like your gaze naturally belongs there too.
“returning customers get a loyalty discount. you’re new. no loyalty. just big eyes and a cute voice.”
you fume. literally fume. arms crossed, foot tapping, chest puffed out like it’s gonna make a difference but it just makes his gaze slide over your tits with a slow burn.
“fuck this. i’m calling her.”
you yank out your phone and jab her contact, slap it on speaker while it rings because if you have to suffer, she’s gonna hear it in real time.
she picks up after two, voice already smug. “well? did he give you the discount?”
“he’s trying to charge me five fucking thousand for the coma slut.”
a snort. then a long, wheezy exhale.
gojo’s voice joins, cracked and high: “did you show him your tits yet?”
“gojo i will murder you in your sleep.”
“you have to negotiate,” shoko says, sounding like she’s laying down in a hammock sipping gin. “flirt a little. he gets off on praise. tell him he’s strong. tell him his arms look like sex toys. whatever. it’s not that hard.”
you glare at the phone. “i’m not sucking his dick.”
“you say that now,” gojo mutters, just loud enough.
“listen,” geto adds, voice warm and too fucking reasonable, “it’s really good weed. just—try the flirty dumb girl thing. you’re good at that.”
you hang up before you punch the speaker into the wall.
toji’s still lounging, baggie dangling from two fingers, eyes half-lidded, watching your temper rise like it’s cute. like you’re just some little kitten clawing at the edge of his bed.
“you done throwin’ your tantrum?” he asks, that grin stretching lazily. “’cause you’re not gettin’ shoko prices, princess. you ain’t earned ‘em. but…”
he leans forward now, elbows to knees, his voice dropping low like the room just dipped in temperature. his eyes drag across you again, slower this time, hungrier. he licks his bottom lip, tongue flashing, and your breath stutters like a car running on fumes.
“…i am feelin’ generous today. you say somethin’ nice, i might shave off a thousand.”
you cross your arms harder. glare.
“…like what?”
he leans back, smirking.
“tell me i’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.”
“fuck no.”
“tell me i look like i could ruin a bitch without even tryin’.”
“you probably could but i’m not saying that out loud.”
“you’re so cute when you pout.”
“you’re a menace.”
“you’re wet.”
“i’m—i am not—!”
“your legs say otherwise, baby.”
you screech and grab your phone again, but he just tosses the baggie into your lap and chuckles low like he’s been waiting all day to watch someone squirm like this.
“four thousand, then. just ‘cause you’re funny. next time you better come with somethin’ sweet for me.”
you don’t know if he means words or your mouth.
and you’re not sure which one you’d give first.
you dig through your purse like it owes you something, fingers scrabbling past lip gloss tubes and stray hair ties and old receipts and shoko’s dumb-ass pink lighter that always smells like coconut vape juice, all the while trying not to look like you're panicking even though you definitely are, because you know you don’t have four thousand in there and you know he knows it too—he’s watching you with that smug fucking smirk like he’s already counted every bill you’re about to hand over, lounging like a lion who just saw the antelope trip on her own shoelaces.
“okay, wait,” you mutter, slapping your wallet open on the edge of the couch, pulling out three crisp thousands, one crumpled five hundred, and a pathetic collection of coins that rattle into your palm like your pride hitting the pavement. “three-five-fifty... uh... fuck. that’s all i got. can you... i mean, can you do like, a discount? like a one-time thing? like a hot girl coupon?”
you look up at him, eyes big, lip slightly bitten, trying to make your face do that dumb coquette pout you saw on tiktok, the one where girls blink slow and look like they don’t know what two plus two is. you know, the kind of stupid that makes men with muscle brains go soft in the middle.
but toji just stares at you like he’s sizing up a sale on meat.
“you really come here short?” he says, slow, drawling it out like he’s chewing your embarrassment between his teeth. “you come to my spot, take my time, drool all over the place—don’t think i didn’t see you clench your thighs when i opened that box—and then have the fuckin’ nerve to not even bring enough?”
you stammer. “i didn’t know the price was—shoko said—”
“shoko sucks dick,” he cuts in flatly, pointing at you with a lazy flick of his fingers, like that’s the end of the discussion. “and she tips. what the fuck you bring me? attitude and half a wallet?”
you flush. “i didn’t mean to—”
he leans forward, forearms on his knees, big hands dangling between spread thighs, voice low and quiet now, like he’s letting you in on a secret even though it’s obvious he’s just having fun watching you squirm. “i could be an asshole, y’know. i could tell you to come back with the rest and shut the door in your face. but i’m nice. i’m generous. i like girls who ask real sweet. maybe... if you really want that discount... you could say thank you properly.”
you blink at him.
“like...?”
his grin spreads slow and wide and absolutely fucking evil.
“like on your knees.”
your stomach drops, heat flashing through you like someone cracked a match at your thighs. your fingers curl around the cash instinctively, knuckles white, heart thudding loud in your ears because you definitely just felt your pussy twitch at the suggestion and you hate yourself for it, hate that you’re even considering it, hate that shoko warned you and you laughed and now here you are with a little skirt and a hot dealer and the kind of decision that makes you either a slut or a broke bitch with no weed.
“you’re joking,” you breathe, weakly.
he tilts his head. “does it look like i’m fuckin’ joking?”
you look at him—at the casual way he’s spread out, the line of his abs, the sweat still clinging to his throat, the twitch of his jaw like he’s holding back a laugh—and no. no he is not joking. not even a little.
you fumble your words, your dignity, your self-worth, and mutter, “what if i just—like—venmo you the rest later?”
he snorts. “nah, sweetheart. this ain’t fucking paypal. you wanna take my premium stash? you gotta earn that shit. ‘less you wanna walk outta here empty-handed and tell your little friends you couldn’t seal the deal.”
your mouth opens, then closes. your legs feel hot and twitchy, your palms sweaty, your breath stuttering in your chest like your brain already left the building and left your pussy in charge of negotiations.
he leans back, stretches like he’s already been serviced, one hand brushing absently across his own thigh. “c’mon. you do that pretty pout again and say some nice things, i might even toss in a joint for free. call it a customer appreciation special.”
you want to scream. you want to leave. you want to burn this place down and tell shoko to go to hell and—
you want the weed.
bad. like, enough to consider what you’ve already half-decided.
and his smirk deepens when you stay standing there, shifting, eyes flicking to the couch, to his lap, to the way he spreads his knees just a little wider like he’s inviting you in.
like he knows.
and toji fushiguro fucking knows. especially now he has you on your knees, hands braced pathetically on his thick thighs while his cock fills your throat like it was always meant to be there, like your mouth is just a wet little sleeve designed for his pleasure and not for arguing about prices or complaining about group projects. the smirk on his face is goddamn carved, eyes half-lidded and dark with amusement, chin tilted down just enough to watch you gag around him, drool dripping from the corner of your lips to splatter messily on his abs and his sweatpants, which are bunched uselessly around his hips like he’d barely taken the time to shove them down before fisting your hair and feeding you his cock like it was a peace offering—or punishment, depending on how you wanted to spin it.
“fuck,” he growls, voice thick and mean and low, one big palm tangled in the back of your head like he’s holding a leash, tugging you down just a little further, just to hear the wet choke that tears from your throat when the head hits the back again. “knew you had a good fuckin’ mouth on you the second you started bitchin’ about the price. this what that attitude’s for, huh? suckin’ cock like a good little dropout?”
your nails dig into the muscle of his thighs without thinking, and he laughs, the sound wicked and lazy, dragging you off his cock just far enough for a sticky gasp of air to escape your lips before he’s thrusting right back in with zero patience, all thick base and heavy weight that makes your jaw ache and your brain buzz, your eyes already glassy from how deep he’s hitting and how casual he is about it, like this is what girls do in his gym, just get on their knees and prove they’re worth a discount by being useful holes.
“you droolin’, baby?” he coos, mock-sweet and hot breath fanning over your forehead as he leans in, free hand cradling your jaw so he can tilt your head and see the spit bubbles collecting on your chin, the streaks of mascara starting to blur under your eyes. “fuckin’ dumb little mouth can’t even keep it in, huh? look at this mess. you ever sucked dick this big before or is this your first real meal?”
you try to glare up at him but the second you move he pushes deeper, deeper, until your nose is smashed against his pelvis and you can smell the sweat slicking his skin and the musk of sex that clings to his body like it never leaves, and your throat spasms around him because holy shit, he’s so thick it’s like he’s plugging you at both ends, stuffing you full from the top like your whole face is nothing but a cock-sleeve now, your gag reflex long gone under the pressure of his filthy praise and the slow grind of his hips.
“yeah, that’s it,” he grunts, knuckles brushing your cheekbone as he strokes the spit-slick mess of your hair, "fuckin' knew you had it in you. you ain't mad about the price anymore, are you? bet you’re thinkin’ four thousand was too cheap now. nah, you're just happy to be useful. bet your college professors never taught you how to breathe through your nose while suckin' cock this good, huh? maybe you'd pass your finals if you practiced like this."
you try to pull back for air, just a second, but his grip tightens in your hair, holding you flush against him, nose buried in the coarse hair at his base while he rolls his hips slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch lodged deep, cutting off your breath until black spots dance at the edges of your vision.
“uh-uh,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough, thumb smearing the tears across your cheek like he’s painting you with your own ruin. “you wanted that discount, princess. you take what i give you. nreathe through your nose like a good girl, c’mon. there you go… fuck, feel that? that little flutter when you stop fightin’ it? that’s you lovin’ this shit.”
he finally lets you slide back an inch, just enough for a ragged gasp that tastes like salt and him, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to the fat, flushed head of his cock. it glistens under the dim back-room light—angry red, slick with your throat, veins pulsing like they’re pissed you dared pull off even a little. you cough, chest heaving, mascara running in thick black rivers down your cheeks, and he just watches, lazy and pleased, stroking himself once, twice, slow and filthy right in front of your face.
“look at you,” he says, almost fond, almost cruel. “pretty little thing all fucked up over some dick. shoko’s gonna smell me on you the second you walk through the door. gonna know exactly how you paid for that eighth.
you whimper—actually whimper—and hate how needy it sounds, how your tongue darts out on instinct to lick at the precum beading at his slit. he groans low, head tipping back for a second before those sharp green eyes snap right back to you, pinning you in place.
“greedy already? thought you were the innocent one.” he taps the heavy weight of his cock against your cheek, once, twice, leaving wet streaks across your skin. “open up again, baby. we ain’t done till i paint that smart mouth white and you swallow every fuckin’ drop. then maybe—maybe—i’ll throw in an extra gram for bein’ such a perfect little slut.”
“that’s it,” he praises, guiding himself back between your lips with a slow, possessive thrust. “knew you’d figure out what that mouth’s really for. now take it deep and say thank you with that throat, princess. make me believe you earned every yen off.”
your knees ache against the grimy floor, skirt bunched uselessly around your hips, panties soaked through and clinging like a second skin, and you know you’re ruined. you know the second you walk out of here you’re gonna replay this on loop—his taste, his voice, the way he looked at you like you were something to break and keep.
but right now you don’t care. right now you’re leaning forward on your own, mouth opening wide, tongue flat and eager, eyes locked on his like you’re begging.
and toji’s grin is all teeth.
your throat burns, eyes watering, but the humiliation is a live wire straight to your clit, sparking every time he talks to you like you’re nothing but a warm, wet convenience. you moan around him—actually moan, like your mouth knows better than you do—and his fingers flex in your hair, his hips roll just enough to make your tongue flatten helplessly along the underside of his cock, veins pulsing against your taste buds while your brain flares with static and your thighs twitch, slick starting to pool between your legs from how hard he's holding you, how good he sounds, how thoroughly you've stopped thinking about literally anything except the weight of him on your tongue.
"that's it, baby, fuckin' look at me," he rasps, pulling you back just an inch, enough for your eyes to lift, mascara-stained and hazy, mouth stretched wide and glistening as you suck in a shaky breath, your lips still wrapped around his shaft like you're terrified to let go. "shit, you're cute like this. dumb little weed-thief all choked up on cock, tryin' so hard to be good. you want that discount, don't you? want me to say you earned it?"
you nod—barely, because he's still holding you there—and the motion makes your nose brush his skin again, makes your throat tighten around him until he groans deep in his chest and mutters, "fuck, you're tight everywhere, huh? bet that pussy's just as greedy as your mouth."
you whimper, thighs squeezing together, tears slipping down your cheeks now but you're still sucking, still letting him use your mouth like it's a fleshlight with feelings, tongue flattening obediently when he fucks forward again and again, his pace slow and relentless, every movement pushing your limits, every growl of praise making your stomach twist with need and your pride evaporate like it was never there to begin with.
he leans back just enough to watch his cock disappear between your lips again, his smirk downright mean now. "keep goin', baby. i'll tell you when you're done."
"that's right, baby, just like that—fuckin' christ, look at you," toji groans, voice dragging through clenched teeth like it's carved from iron, one heavy palm flattening against the back of your head again just to feel the resistance melt out of you as you let your throat open wider, drool slipping in thick, shiny ropes down your chin and catching at the collar of your shirt, which is damp now, stained with spit and humiliation and the heat of his cock gliding again and again down your throat like it's been there before and knew the way, like you're already trained and just pretending to be new, and he fucking loves it. "shit, you were made for this, huh? whole face built for takin' cock. they teach you that in class, sweetheart? or you just born to be a little brainless throat toy?"
your hands are gripping his thighs now, useless little fingers clutching for purchase as he rocks his hips forward and uses your mouth with easy, slow-grinding thrusts, not fast—no, deliberate—like he's savoring the stretch of your lips, the way your spit strings when he pulls back just far enough for the head to pop free with a sticky schhluck, watching the way your mouth hangs open like you forgot what to do with it once it wasn't full. he lets the head slap against your tongue, lazy and wet, then taps it against your cheek with a chuckle.
"open wider," he mutters, low and rough, brushing his thumb across your lower lip, smearing the sheen of spit so it shines under the dim lights. “c’mon, princess, don't be shy now. you already got my dick halfway down your throat, what's a little more mess?”
you blink up at him, dazed, lips raw and puffy, eyes glassy and red-rimmed with tears you don't even remember crying, and you whisper some weak little "mmph" sound that's supposed to be a yes, and that's all the fucking permission he needs—he shoves back into your mouth with a grunt, slow at first, then harder, deeper, until your throat spasms again and your eyes roll up just a little from how full you are.
"goddamn," he mutters, hips grinding forward so you can feel every inch of him sink back into place, his cock pulsing hot and heavy inside you, "shoko never said your mouth was this good. probably jealous, huh? that's why she sent you instead—wanted you to find out just how much better you are when you're down on your fuckin' knees."
you make a broken little noise around his cock, a breathy sob or a moan or something in between, and it sends a shudder up his spine, his thigh twitching beneath your palm as he curses again and cups the back of your skull like he wants to mold your head to the shape of his cock permanently.
"fuckin' look at you," he murmurs, almost fond now, and it makes your stomach twist in the dumbest, sluttiest way, like praise is a drug you didn't know you were addicted to, "doin' such a good job for me. didn't even have to beg that much. just needed a little push, yeah? bet all that attitude melts away the second you got a cock between those lips."
you whimper again, thighs squeezing together instinctively, and he feels it—grins wider, meaner, because he knows now, knows exactly what kind of girl you are, what kind of desperate little whore shows up short and ends up with her face stuffed, all because she wanted a discount.
"that why you wore that little skirt, baby?" he croons, voice going syrup-slick and filthy, "came here hopin' i'd put you on your knees? thinkin' if you gave me those pretty eyes and a little pout, i'd let you off easy? nawww, you wanted this. don't lie. you need this. need to know you're good at something, even if it's just gettin' face-fucked 'til your brains leak out your ears."
your whole body flushes at that, heat crawling from your chest to your scalp, and your lips tighten around him on instinct, desperate to prove him right, because he is right, because you don't even care about the weed anymore, not really—you just want him to keep talking like that, keep telling you what a dumb little cocksleeve you are, keep dragging that rough praise out like it's gospel and you're the disciple swallowing every word.
"yeah, there youuu go," he murmurs, voice rough with hunger now, fingers threading deeper into your hair as he starts to fuck your mouth harder, shallower now, shorter strokes that make your whole head bob in time with the motion, each thrust punctuated by filthy, wet sounds that echo off the walls. "that's a good girl. shiiit, listen to you. all messy and noisy for me. can't even pretend you don't love it, huh? pussy probably fuckin' drippin', ain't it?"
you nod—barely—but he sees it, and he laughs, breathless and mean, like he's proud of you in the nastiest possible way.
"knew it," he growls, hips snapping just a little harder now, faster, not quite fucking your throat but enough to make your jaw strain and your breath stutter in broken gasps around him. "knew you were a nasty little bitch soon as you walked in here. whole time you were talkin' about prices, all i could think was how good your mouth would look wrapped around me. now look. takin' it so deep. makin' me proud, princess."
your brain short-circuits at that—proud—and your eyes flutter as your thighs twitch again, mouth going slack just enough for him to bottom out, your chin damp, your tongue numb, but your body humming like he's fucking something deeper than your throat.
he pulls back slow, lets you breathe, lets you gasp a little against his length while he strokes your cheek with his thumb, voice dropping low, dark, full of that same evil satisfaction he's had since the moment you knelt.
"don't tap out now, baby. we're just gettin' started."
your hands are shaky when you finally wrap one around the thick base of his cock, spit-slick and swollen, veins bulging under your fingers like he's just aching to blow but holding it back with the kind of practiced control that makes your pussy pulse with something stupid and submissive, something soft and hot that makes you feel like your IQ's dropping with every slow stroke you give him.
your chin's glistening, cheeks streaked with saliva and snot and whatever pathetic mess your body's producing just from sucking him so deep for so long, and you wipe your face with the back of your hand without letting go of him, still jerking him slow and lazy while you look up at him with eyes all glassy and fucked-out, lips bruised and shiny, voice wrecked.
"you're so full of yourself," you mutter, barely a whisper, still catching your breath, "you think every girl wants to suck your dick for a discount?"
he grins, eyes gleaming like you just proved him right all over again. "nah. just the smart ones. aren’t you the smart one, yeah?"
you roll your eyes, but your hand doesn't stop moving, thumb dragging over the leaking tip where precum's already dribbling out, your tongue flicking out to catch it without thinking, like you need the taste now, like you're past the point of pretending you don't want it.
"so what?" you say, voice low and shaky but trying to sound in control. "that all you got for me? a little weed and some praise? don't tell me that's your whole game."
he leans forward, forearms resting on his thighs, voice rough and rumbling like a fucking earthquake rolling through the floor. "i give you more than that, you might start followin' me home."
"try me."
that grin deepens, eyes narrowing as he watches you stroke him, sees the way your thighs are squeezed tight, like you're trying to keep your brain from leaking out through your panties. he grabs your wrist, firm but not cruel, and you look up as he leans down and says it in that voice that makes your stomach flip: "i got a special stash. not even shoko gets that shit. real heavy. makes you feel like your whole body's floatin'. makes your pussy clench just from breathin'. only break it out for girls who earn it."
you blink at him, hand frozen on his cock, mouth opening and closing like your brain's buffering.
"...and?"
he smirks. "you want it?"
"obviously."
his hand slides down your arm, slow, warm, fingers dragging across your shoulder, your collarbone, until his palm is cupping your jaw, tilting your head back until you're looking all the way up at him, throat stretched, lips parted, heart thudding stupid in your chest.
"then let me fuck you, y/n."
you freeze.
your name sounds dangerous coming out of his mouth, heavy and hot like he's branding you with it, like he knew it the whole time and was just waiting to drop it until you were soaked and dizzy and still kneeling on his gym floor with your hand around his cock and your pride in the garbage.
"what the fuck," you whisper, half to yourself.
"whaaat?" he shrugs, still smirking like he's got the cheat codes to your whole body. "ain't like you weren't already thinkin' about it. got that fuckin' look on your face the second i opened the door. tryin' to act all mad but your thighs rubbin' together every time i said your name. you were wet before you hit your knees."
you glare. "you're such a perv."
"yeah, but i'm right."
"fuck you."
"you want to."
you don't say anything. your fingers twitch around his cock and he sees it, watches the way your eyes flick to the stash box on the table behind him like you're weighing the pros and cons of being a whore for premium bud. he leans in closer, so close his breath hits your lips and you can smell the sweat on his neck, the musk of your own spit all over him.
"c'mon, princess. you already sucked me off. might as well let me bend you over and really earn that discount."
you scoff, but it's weak, almost a laugh. "you think i'm that easy?"
"nah," he says, low and hot, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down a little, "i think you're smart. you know a good deal when you see one. and you like how i talk to you. you like bein' called pretty when your mouth's full. like hearin' what a good little slut you are."
you shiver.
he grins. "see?"
you try to pull away, to roll your eyes again, to say something biting—but your voice fails and your body betrays you and all you do is sit back on your heels with his cock still wet in your hand, blinking up at him like you're trying to convince yourself this isn't the hottest thing that's ever happened to you.
he leans back, spreads his thighs, one hand stroking lazily at the base of his cock like he's waiting for you to decide.
"last chance," he says, voice a little breathless now, cock twitching under his fingers. "you say yes, you walk outta here with the best fuckin' weed in tokyo and a whole new attitude. say no... and you still owe me four thousand yen, baby."
you hesitate.
you look at the stash. you look at his cock. you look at his fucking face—all smug and sweaty and wicked, like he's already picturing you bent over that beat-up couch.
and you say—
"...you better not be lying about that stash."
he laughs, full and low and fucking delighted.
"oh, i'm not lyin', sweetheart. i just hope you can handle it."
he doesn't grab you like you expect, doesn't yank you up by the arm or push your face into the couch like some impatient street-level animal, no—he reaches, slow and easy, fingers sliding under your chin and tilting your face up like he's about to inspect it for bruises, or maybe kiss you like you're some shy thing trembling in the dark. and then he does, which is the last thing your dumb-ass brain expects, his mouth hot and deliberate and full against yours, tongue pushing past your lips like he's claiming the same territory you just worshipped him with, and the kiss is filthy, wet, intense, full of teeth and heat and the taste of weed and salt and spit but it's slow, achingly slow, his hand cradling the back of your head like you're something precious instead of the girl who just sucked him in a dingy gym backroom.
you make a stupid sound against his mouth, a breathy little squeak that betrays how unprepared you are, how suddenly soft this feels—except it's not soft, not really, it's still him, still toji, still all muscle and sweat and testosterone and perversion, but he's got you straddling his lap now like you belong there, your knees planted against the faux leather of the couch on either side of his thighs, his hands dragging slow over your hips and up your back like he's mapping you out with his fingertips, and his cock is still hard, hot, pressed between you, twitching against the soaked heat of your panties where your skirt's already bunched up.
he breaks the kiss to look at you, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, that smirk gone lazy now, like he's already got dessert and he's just savoring every bite.
"fuckin' knew you'd be soft," he murmurs, eyes raking down your chest, "mouth all nasty but heart beatin' like you're gettin' kissed by your first crush."
"shut up," you breathe, flushed and dizzy and already grinding against him without realizing it, your hips rocking just a little with every breath.
"nah, baby," he says, grinning now, voice dipped in something that's half-mocking and half-worshipful, "you like this. you like gettin' all worked up over a kiss. fuckin' cute. all that attitude and now you're meltin' on my lap like a bitch in heat."
he lifts your shirt like he's unwrapping candy, slow and greedy, his eyes locked on every inch of skin as it's revealed, and you let him, arms raised as he peels it off and tosses it somewhere behind the couch without looking, and the moment he sees your bare tits he groans, full-bodied and filthy, one hand coming up to cup one, squeeze it, feel it like he needs to confirm it's real.
"god damn," he mutters, voice rough with something hungry, thumb brushing over your nipple until it stiffens, and then again, and again, until you arch into it like a reflex, like he's got strings tied to your spine and your thighs. "you came here with no bra, huh? fuckin' slut. wanted me to see 'em."
"no, i just—didn't feel like wearing one—"
"bullshit," he cuts you off, pinching your nipple sharp between his fingers, making your breath hitch, your body jerk in his lap, "you knew i'd get you shirtless. probably thought about it while you were walkin' in. 'oh no, mister fushiguro, don't look at my titties,' meanwhile your dumb little cunt's already makin' a puddle in your panties."
you whimper, actually whimper, and he grins wider, pinching the other nipple now, rougher this time, tugging it just to see how much bounce he can pull out of your hips, and you grind down without even meaning to, the hot thick press of his cock nudging right against the seam of your panties now, your clit throbbing from nothing but pressure and words and those calloused fingers tweaking your tits like they're stress toys.
"yeah, you like that," he says, like it's obvious— it is. . . like it's written all over your face in red marker— it fucking is . . . "you like bein' played with, huh? like when i go slow. thought i was gonna bend you over and ruin you, but nah, i'mma take my time. make you feel every fuckin' second."
his hand slides down, fingers dragging over your ribs, your stomach, the edge of your waistband, then slipping under to find the wet mess of your panties clinging to your cunt like a second skin, and he groans again when he feels it, when his fingers slide over that soaked cotton and come away shiny.
"fuck. told you. knew you were drippin'. you're so wet it's like your pussy's beggin' for me through the fabric. can't even pretend, baby. you're soaked. ruined your own underwear just grindin' on my lap like a bitch in heat."
"shut up," you hiss again, weak and pathetic, trying to glare but your eyes are fluttering, lips parted, mouth still swollen from sucking him and now your tits are getting pinched and your pussy's being touched like it's a treat he hasn't decided to eat yet.
"you gonna make me shut up?" he murmurs, dragging his tongue up the side of your throat, licking a stripe that makes your whole body seize up, his fingers still playing with your nipples like they're buttons he's programmed to keep your brain on standby. "nah, you like when i talk like this. gets you fuckin' dumb. gets that pussy all twitchy. can feel it right now, baby, through your panties, your little hole clenching for me like it's sayin' hi."
you don't say anything, can't, because he rolls one nipple between thumb and finger while the other hand's sliding between your thighs, pressing against your clothed slit and staying there, just pressure, just heat, not even rubbing, and it's enough to make you moan into his neck, breath hot and trembling.
"yeah," he whispers, mouth on your ear now, teeth grazing the lobe, voice dripping with filth and amusement, "go ahead and moan for me, baby. show me how bad you want that special stash."
his fingers hook the crotch of your panties and tug them aside like they're nothing, like soaked cotton's never been an obstacle in his life, and the sudden rush of cool air against your bare pussy makes you gasp sharp into his shoulder, your hips jerking forward on instinct, chasing the heat of his palm before he even touches you properly.
“shit,” he breathes, low and reverent, two thick fingers sliding slow through your folds, parting them just enough to feel how slick you are, how you're dripping down his knuckles already. “listen to that. fuckin' soaked. you hear how wet you are, princess? that's all you. all from suckin' my dick and lettin' me play with these pretty tits.”
you whimper, burying your face in his neck because looking at him right now feels too dangerous, too much like admitting everything he's saying is true. his skin's hot, salty with sweat, and you can't help licking a stripe up to his jaw just to taste him again, just to do something with the static buzzing under your tongue.
he chuckles, dark and filthy, and finally—finally—sinks one finger inside you, slow and thick and deliberate, curling it just right so your whole body clenches around the intrusion like it's been waiting years for this exact stretch.
“fuck, tight,” he mutters, pumping once, twice, thumb finding your clit with embarrassing ease, circling it lazy like he already knows exactly how you like it. “knew your pussy would be greedy. suckin' me in like you never wanna let go. you always this easy, or am i special?”
you bite his shoulder to keep from moaning too loud, teeth digging into muscle, and he hisses, hips bucking up so his cock nudges hard against your thigh, smearing precum on your skin.
“answer me, baby,” he growls, adding a second finger and scissoring them slow, stretching you open while his thumb keeps that maddening pressure on your clit. “or you too dumb already? just needed a couple fingers in your cunt to shut that smart mouth up?”
“fuck you,” you manage, voice muffled against his skin, but your hips are rolling now, riding his hand shamelessly, chasing the way he curls his fingers every time he bottoms out.
“yeah?” he laughs, breath hot against your ear. “that's what you're doin', sweetheart. fuckin' yourself on my fingers like a needy little slut. go ahead. use me. . .”
your hands scrabble at his shoulders, nails digging in as you grind down harder, thighs trembling, breath coming in short little pants against his neck. he's not even rushing you—just letting you fuck yourself stupid on his hand while he watches your face in the dim light, that smug bastard grin never leaving his mouth.
“look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough with want now, fingers thrusting deeper, thumb rubbing tighter circles until your legs start shaking for real. “pretty tits bouncin', pussy makin' a mess all over my lap. you gonna come just from this? just from my fingers and some dirty talk? c'mon, baby. do it. come all over my hand so i know you're ready for my cock.”
“toji—please—” you gasp, the word slipping out broken and desperate, your clit throbbing under his thumb, every slow drag of his fingers inside you sending sparks up your spine.
“that's it,” he coos, voice dropping lower, hotter, like velvet dragged over gravel. “say my name again, princess. beg me nice and pretty.”
“please, toji,” you whine, hips stuttering as he curls both fingers hard against that spot that makes your vision blur. “need it—need to come—”
“good girl,” he praises, thumb pressing firmer, circling faster now, the wet sounds of your pussy loud and obscene in the quiet room. “such a good fuckin' girl for me. lettin' me finger this tight little cunt while you ride my lap like you were made for it. feel how wet you are? drippin' down my wrist, baby. all 'cause you love bein' told what a slut you are.”
your breath hitches, thighs clamping around his hand as the heat coils tighter, hotter, your whole body trembling on the edge.
“come on,” he murmurs against your temple, lips brushing sweat-damp skin. “come for me, sweetheart. soak my fingers. show me you're my good girl—my pretty little mess. i got you. just let go.”
“toji—fuck—i'm—”
“yeah, you are,” he growls, fingers pumping faster, thumb relentless. “come right now, baby. be a good girl and come all over my hand.”
the orgasm crashes through you like a wave, sharp and blinding, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers in pulsing waves as you cry out into his neck, nails scraping down his back, hips jerking helplessly while slick floods his palm. he keeps moving, slow and steady, drawing it out until you're shaking and gasping, oversensitive and boneless against his chest.
“fuck, that's beautiful,” he breathes, voice thick with satisfaction, fingers still buried deep as your walls flutter around them. “good girl. so fuckin' good for me. look at you—comin' so hard you can't even breathe right.”
you whimper weakly, forehead pressed to his shoulder, body trembling with aftershocks as he eases his fingers out slow, bringing them up glistening and dripping.
“open,” he says softly, tapping your lips.
you do, dazed, tongue sliding out to taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, filthy—and he groans low, pushing them deeper so you suck them clean. “perfect,” he murmurs, eyes dark and hungry as he watches your mouth work. “now you're really ready for that cock, princess.”
he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, eyes locked on the way your tongue chases them for a second before you realize what you're doing. a low, dark chuckle rumbles out of him as he wipes his slick hand across your thigh, leaving a shiny trail that cools fast in the muggy air.
“greedy little thing,” he mutters, voice rough like gravel dragged slow over skin. “already suckin’ on my fingers like you’re scared i’ll take ‘em away. don’t worry, baby. you’re about to get somethin’ a lot thicker.”
you’re still trembling from the orgasm, thighs twitching every time the aftershocks ripple through you, but he doesn’t give you time to settle. both big hands slide under your ass, lifting you like you weigh nothing, shifting you forward until the blunt head of his cock nudges right against your soaked entrance—hot, heavy, leaking, pressing just enough to part your folds but not sinking in.
you gasp at the contact, hips trying to roll down on instinct, needy little circles that chase the stretch you’re suddenly desperate for.
he stops you immediately—one iron grip on your hip, holding you suspended an inch above him, the tip barely kissing your hole.
“uh-uh,” he says, low and mean, eyes glinting in the dim light. “you don’t get to take it yet. you move when i say. understand?”
you whine, high and pathetic, fingers digging into his shoulders. “toji—”
“say it,” he cuts in, voice sharp now, thumb brushing over your bottom lip like he’s thinking about shoving it back in your mouth just to shut you up. “tell me who decides when this pussy gets fucked.”
your face burns, but the words tumble out anyway, soft and shaky. “you do.”
“louder.”
“you do,” you repeat, clearer this time, voice cracking as the head of his cock drags slow up your slit, collecting slick, spreading it, teasing your clit for a second before sliding back down to rest at your entrance again—never pushing in, just threatening.
“good girl,” he murmurs, smirking like the devil himself. “now sit still and let me play.”
he lowers you fractionally—just the tip breaching you, stretching the rim of your hole with that fat, flushed head until you’re clenching around nothing but the promise of more. your breath stutters, thighs trembling on either side of his hips, and he just watches your face like he’s memorizing every twitch, every desperate little flutter of your lashes.
“fuck, look at that,” he breathes, almost to himself, hips tilting up in a tiny roll that seats him maybe half an inch deeper—barely anything, but enough to make you moan. “pussy’s tryin’ so hard to suck me in already. hear how wet you are? just the tip and you’re makin’ those greedy little sounds.”
you try to sink down further, just a little, just to feel more of that burn, but his hands clamp down hard, bruising grip keeping you exactly where he wants you—impaled on barely the head, throbbing and helpless.
“told you,” he says, voice dropping into something dark and mocking. “you don’t move ‘til i say. you think one little orgasm means you earned this cock? nah, baby. you’re gonna feel every fuckin’ inch nice and slow, and you’re gonna thank me for it.”
he pulls back out—slow, deliberate—until just the slit of his tip is kissing your hole again, and you whimper at the loss, pussy clenching around empty air like it’s begging.
“listen to that,” he taunts, dragging the head up through your folds again, slow and filthy, coating himself in your slick. “hear your cunt cryin’ for it? poor thing. so empty. bet it’s throbbin’, huh? bet you’d do anything for me to fill it up right now.”
“please,” you whisper, nails scraping down his chest, leaving faint red lines. “please, toji—”
“please what?” he mocks, circling your entrance again, pressing just enough to stretch but never enough to satisfy. “use your big girl words, princess. tell me exactly what you want.”
“want you inside me,” you choke out, hips shaking with the effort of staying still. “want your cock—please—”
“want it bad, don’t you?” he murmurs, finally—finally—sinking in slow, one thick inch at a time, eyes locked on where you’re stretching around him, on the way your pussy flutters and grips every ridge and vein. “fuck, that’s pretty. look how tight you are. takin’ me so slow like a good little slut.”
he stops again halfway, throbbing inside you, letting you feel the pulse of him, the weight, the stretch that’s somehow not enough and too much all at once.
you sob, head dropping forward, forehead pressed to his collarbone. “more—please, need more—”
“shh,” he soothes, cruel and soft all at once, one hand sliding up your spine to fist your hair and tug your head back so you’re forced to look at him. “you’ll take what i give you. and right now i wanna feel this greedy pussy flutter around half my cock for a while. wanna watch you try not to come just from bein’ stuffed a little.”
he rolls his hips in a shallow, lazy thrust—barely moving, just enough to drag the head along your walls and make your thighs spasm.
“feel that?” he whispers, lips brushing yours but not kissing, just teasing. “that’s all you get for now. just this. just enough to keep you desperate.”
your whole body is shaking, slick dripping down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement obscenely wet and loud in the quiet room.
“toji,” you whimper, voice breaking. “please—i’ll be good—”
“yeah?” he grins, mean and slow, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in to the same maddening depth. “you’ll be good? then stay still. let me fuck you at my pace. let me tease this pretty pussy ‘til you’re cryin’ for real.”
he does exactly that—long, slow, shallow thrusts that never give you more than half of him, dragging over every sensitive spot just enough to wind you tighter and tighter but never enough to push you over.
every time your hips twitch, trying to chase more, he stops completely, buried shallow, throbbing, waiting until you still again.
“bad girls who can’t listen don’t get to come,” he murmurs against your throat, teeth grazing the skin. “and you’re tryin’ so hard to be good for me, aren’t you? tryin’ not to fuck yourself on my cock like a desperate little whore.”
you’re nodding before you even realize it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the ache, the need, the way he’s stretching you open so slowly it feels like forever.
“that’s it,” he praises, voice rough with restraint now, hips rolling in another torturously slow thrust. “just take it. feel every inch i give you. feel how full you are even when i’m barely fuckin’ you.”
you’re burning, shaking, dripping, every nerve screaming for more, but he just keeps that cruel, lazy pace—halfway in, halfway out, teasing, teasing, teasing. “gonna keep you like this for a long time, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “gonna make you earn the rest.”
he keeps you there forever—or it feels like forever—suspended on those shallow, teasing thrusts, every slow drag pulling a whimper from your throat that you can’t swallow back. the room is thick with the smell of sweat and sex and the faint weed lingering on his skin, the couch creaking softly under the lazy rock of his hips. your skirt is bunched uselessly around your waist, panties shoved to the side, thighs slick and trembling from how long he’s been edging you with just half his cock.
“still so fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, voice low and rough, one hand splayed across your lower back to keep you arched just right. “pussy keeps flutterin’ every time i pull out—like it’s scared i won’t come back. don’t worry, baby. i’m not goin’ anywhere till you learn some patience.”
you try to rock down again, desperate for more, for all of him, but his grip turns iron.
“what’d i tell you?” he growls, stilling completely, buried only halfway, throbbing hot inside you. “you move when i say. or did suckin’ my dick make you forget the rules already?”
“toji—” your voice cracks, raw and pleading. “pleaseee, i need—”
“need what?” he interrupts, leaning in until his lips brush yours, not a kiss, just a cruel tease of one. “need me to fuck you proper? need me to split this little pussy open and make you forget about everything?” he pulls out slow, agonizingly slow, until just the tip is stretching your entrance again, then sinks back in to the exact same depth—halfway, always halfway. “nah. you don’t need it yet. you want it. big difference.”
your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his skin. “i’ll pay you back,” you whisper, desperate, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “i swear—next week—i’ll bring the four thousand, just please—”
he laughs, dark and mean, hips rolling in another lazy thrust that makes your breath hitch.
“oh, now you’re offerin’ to pay?” he taunts, thumb brushing over your clit once—just once—light enough to make you jerk but not enough to give you anything real. “cute. but we’re way past yen, princess. you’re payin’ with this pussy now. and right now it’s buyin’ you slow. reallll slow.”
he drags it out—ten more minutes, maybe twenty—every thrust deliberate, shallow, controlled. he watches your face the whole time, drinking in every whimper, every tear that slips free when he bottoms out at halfway and stops again, letting you feel how thick he is, how much more there still is that he’s not giving you.
“feel that?” he murmurs, grinding slow circles once he’s halfway in, just enough to nudge your walls but never deep enough to hit that spot you’re aching for. “that’s all you get for bein’ short on cash and short on patience. half a cock for half payment. fair, right?”
“not fair,” you sob, head dropping forward, forehead pressed to his chest. your whole body is shaking now, pussy clenching around what little he’s giving you, slick dripping steadily down his shaft, pooling on his thighs. “please, toji—i’ll do anything—”
“anything?” he echoes, voice dripping with mock interest, one hand sliding up to fist your hair and tug your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “then beg prettier. tell me exactly why a broke little whore deserves this cock balls-deep.”
you swallow hard, tears clinging to your lashes. “because—because i came here short and let you use my mouth,” you whisper, voice trembling. “because i got on my knees for weed i can’t afford. because i’m letting you fuck me for a stash i don’t even have money for—please, i need it—”
he groans low, hips twitching like your words hit him harder than he wants to admit, but he still doesn’t give in. instead he pulls out slow again, drags the head through your folds, coating himself fresh in your slick before sliding back in—just halfway.
“good start,” he says, smirking, sweat beading on his brow now from how tightly he’s holding himself back. “but you’re still too coherent. still thinkin’ about money and pride and all that shit. i want you dumb, baby. want you so empty-headed the only thing in that pretty skull is how bad you need me to fuck you deeper.”
another slow thrust. another stop at halfway. your thighs are trembling so hard the couch is shaking with you. “keep beggin’,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, teeth nipping the lobe. “we got all night. and this pussy’s not gettin’ the rest of me till it earns it.”
he keeps that brutal, lazy rhythm for what feels like hours—slow, shallow thrusts that never give you more than half, every drag pulling slick sounds from where you're stretched around him, your pussy fluttering helplessly each time he stops just short of where you need him. sweat beads on your skin, mixing with his, the air heavy and humid, thick enough to taste the salt on your tongue every time you gasp.
“still beggin’?” he murmurs, voice rough from holding back, one hand sliding down to grip your ass hard enough to leave fingerprints. “thought college girls were supposed to be smart. figured you’d learn by now that whinin’ doesn’t get you what you want.”
you shake your head against his chest, tears slipping free now, hot and frustrated. “toji—i can’t—please, it’s too much—”
“too much?” he echoes, mocking, pulling out slow until just the tip is spreading you open again, letting the cool air hit your throbbing clit for a second before sliding back in—halfway, always halfway. “this is too much? baby, i’m barely fuckin’ you. got half my cock in this greedy little hole and you’re cryin’ already. what happens when i actually give you the whole thing? you gonna break?”
your thighs are trembling nonstop now, slick dripping steadily down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement wetter, louder. you can feel how swollen you are, how empty past that halfway point, how your walls keep clenching around nothing but the promise of more.
“i won’t break,” you whisper, voice wrecked, trying to sound defiant even as your hips twitch for more. “just—please—give me more, i’ll be good—”
he chuckles, dark and low, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “you’ll be good? you’re already good, princess. good at takin’ half like a desperate little slut. good at cryin’ for cock you can’t afford.” he rolls his hips again, slow and deep—still only halfway—grinding there until you sob. “but good girls wait. good girls earn it.”
“how?” you choke out, nails scraping down his back, leaving red lines. “tell me how—i’ll do anything—”
“anything?” he repeats, smirking against your temple, sweat dripping from his hair onto your skin. “then stop movin’. stop beggin’. just sit here on my cock like a pretty little toy and feel what it’s like to want somethin’ you gotta work for.”
he stills completely—buried halfway, throbbing hot inside you, letting you feel every pulse, every vein, the sheer weight of what you’re not getting yet. your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to pull him deeper, and he groans soft, grip tightening on your hips.
“fuck—there it is again,” he mutters, voice strained now. “that greedy squeeze. you keep doin’ that and i might just give you another inch. maybe. if you stay real still and let me feel how bad this broke little pussy needs to be filled.”
you freeze, breath hitching, body shaking with the effort of not moving, not grinding down, not chasing the rest of him. tears slip down your cheeks, dripping onto his chest, and he watches them fall like they’re trophies.
“good,” he praises, low and mean, one thumb brushing a tear away only to smear it across your lips. “that’s it. just take it. feel how empty you are past this point? that ache? that’s what happens when you show up short on cash and big on attitude. you get teased. you get half. you get to sit here drippin’ and desperate till i decide you’ve learned your lesson.”
minutes drag by—slow, torturous, every second stretching longer than the last. he doesn’t move, just holds you there, cock pulsing inside you, letting the need build until your whole body is trembling, until soft little sobs are slipping out with every breath.
“toji,” you finally whisper, broken, barely audible. “please… i get it. i’m short. i’m broke. i’m—i’m yours. just please fuck me.”
he exhales slow, eyes dark and hungry, like your words finally cracked something in him.
“mine, huh?” he murmurs, hips shifting just enough to sink in one more inch—still not all, but deeper, stretching you wider, making you cry out sharp. “that’s cute. say it again.”
“i’m yours,” you repeat, voice shaking, clinging to him. “please—”
he groans, low and rough, fingers digging into your ass.
“alright, baby,” he says, voice gravel and heat. “you want the special stash? want me to fill this pussy proper? then hold on tight. you’re gonna earn every gram.”
he exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, like he’s deciding whether to reward you or punish you more. his cock twitches once, deep inside where he’s still only giving you about two-thirds now—deeper than before, but nowhere near enough. the stretch burns sweet, your walls fluttering uselessly around the thick length he’s allowing, every tiny clench pulling another low groan from his throat.
“mine, huh?” he repeats, voice darker, rougher, the word tasting like ownership on his tongue. one hand slides up your spine, fingers threading into your hair again, tugging your head back so your throat is exposed, so he can watch the way your pulse jumps under the skin. “say it right. tell me whose pussy this is while you’re sittin’ on less than i could give you.”
your lips tremble. tears are drying sticky on your cheeks, mascara smudged into dark streaks, but the humiliation only makes the ache between your legs sharper.
“yours,” you whisper, voice wrecked and small. “this pussy’s yours, toji.”
he hums, pleased but not satisfied, hips rolling in one long, torturously slow circle—grinding the fat head against your front wall, dragging over that spot that makes your breath hitch, but never deep enough to really hit it. your thighs shake harder, nails biting into the meat of his shoulders.
“louder,” he orders, free hand sliding between you to thumb your clit—just one lazy swipe, enough to make your whole body jerk, enough to make slick gush around where he’s buried. “tell me again. make me believe a broke little slut would let some gym-rat dealer own her cunt just for a couple grams of top-shelf.”
“it’s yours,” you say again, louder this time, voice cracking on the edges. “my pussy’s yours—please, toji, i’m yours, just—fuck me properly, i can’t—”
“can’t what?” he cuts in, mean smile curling slow. “can’t think? can’t breathe? can’t stand how empty you feel even with most of my cock stretchin’ you?” he pulls out another inch—deliberate, cruel—until only half is left inside again, letting you feel the sudden loss like a punch. “look at that. pussy’s cryin’ for it already. see how it clenches? tryin’ to keep me. pathetic.”
you sob once, soft and broken, hips twitching despite his grip. “i know it’s pathetic,” you admit, the words spilling out like confession. “i know i showed up short, i know i sucked you off for a discount, i know i’m lettin’ you edge me stupid in a back room just so i don’t have to tell shoko i came back empty-handed—please, i’ll do whatever, just don’t stop—”
he stills again, fully seated at that maddening halfway-plus-a-little, throbbing so hard you can count his heartbeat inside you. his thumb returns to your clit—slow, feather-light circles now, barely pressure, just enough to keep you hovering on that razor edge without letting you fall.
“whatever?” he echoes, voice gone velvet-dangerous. “careful with promises like that, princess. i could make you come back every week. could make you text me when your rent’s due and your wallet’s empty. could have you crawlin’ in here on your knees every time you need to study high and stress-free.”
your breath shudders out. the thought shouldn’t make your cunt clench harder around him—it does anyway.
“would you?” you whisper, barely audible, like you’re afraid of the answer.
he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, breath hot and damp. “if you keep squeezin’ me like that? yeah. i’d make you my regular little payment plan. no cash. just this wet pussy whenever i want it.”
another slow roll of his hips—deeper this time, three-quarters in, stretching you wider, making your eyes roll back for a second before he pulls back to that same torturous depth.
“but not tonight,” he murmurs. “tonight you’re still learnin’. tonight you take what i give you and you thank me for it.”
he starts moving again—long, excruciatingly controlled strokes, never bottoming out, always stopping just short of where you need him most. every withdrawal drags a wet, obscene sound from your cunt; every re-entry makes your thighs tremble and your voice break on little ah-ah-ah sounds you can’t swallow.
“thank you,” you gasp after the next thrust, the words automatic now, desperate. “thank you—for—for teasin’ me, for—for not lettin’ me come yet, for—”
he cuts you off with a rough thrust—still not all the way, but hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.
“good girl,” he growls, voice fraying at the edges like he’s finally starting to feel the strain too. “keep thankin’ me. keep tellin’ me whose you are. maybe—maybe—if you’re sweet enough, i’ll let you have the rest.”
your head drops to his shoulder, body shaking, cunt dripping, mind blank except for the slow, relentless stretch and the promise of more.
“thank you, toji,” you whisper again, over and over, like a prayer. “thank you—thank you—i’m yours—”
he groans deep, hips stuttering for the first time.
“fuck,” he breathes, almost reverent. “keep sayin’ that and i might actually believe you deserve the whole thing.”
he finally moves—sudden, decisive, like he’s done playing patient.
“enough teasin’,” he growls low against your ear, voice frayed with the strain he’s been hiding. “you’ve been good enough. time to really earn that stash.”
before you can process the words his hands clamp under your thighs—big palms gripping hard, fingers digging into soft flesh—and he lifts you off his lap in one smooth motion. your body leaves the couch, legs dangling for a split second before he’s on his feet, carrying you like you weigh nothing. the sudden shift makes his cock slip out completely, leaving you clenching around nothing, a pitiful whine tearing from your throat at the emptiness.
“shh,” he mutters, already turning, striding the few steps to the nearest clear wall—the rough brick one near the weight racks, still warm from the gym’s lingering heat. “you wanted more. now you’re gettin’ it.”
he pins you against the wall with his body first, chest to chest, letting you feel every hard line of muscle and the slick heat of his cock pressing up between your thighs. then he hooks his arms under your knees, spreading your legs wide—wide enough that your thighs burn from the stretch, knees hooked over the crooks of his elbows, calves dangling helplessly. your skirt rides up uselessly, panties still shoved to the side, cunt exposed and dripping in the dim light.
“look at you,” he says, voice dark and satisfied, eyes raking down where you’re spread open for him. “legs apart. no hidin’ now, princess. gonna fuck you standin’ so you feel every inch.”
he adjusts his grip—hands locked under your thighs, holding you splayed and suspended—and lines himself up with one slow drag of the head through your folds. you’re so wet it’s obscene, slick coating him instantly, dripping down to his balls. he doesn’t tease this time. he sinks in slow but steady—all the way this time, one long, unrelenting thrust that stretches you open completely, bottoming out until his hips are flush against yours and you’re stuffed full.
your head thumps back against the brick, a choked moan ripping out of you at the sudden fullness, the burn of him splitting you wide while your legs are forced apart like this. gravity pulls you down harder onto his cock, every inch buried deeper than before, the head nudging places that make your vision spark.
“fuck—tight,” he grunts, voice rough, holding you steady with that iron grip on your thighs. “feel that? whole cock now. no more half-measures. this what you were beggin’ for?”
you can’t answer—only nod frantically, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, nails digging in as he starts to move.
he doesn’t thrust up into you like you expect. instead he lifts you—slow, controlled—until just the head is stretching your entrance again, then drops you back down onto his length in one smooth, devastating motion. your body slides up and down his cock like you’re nothing but a sleeve for him to fuck, legs splayed wide, thighs trembling in his hold, cunt clenching hard every time he bottoms out.
the wet slap of skin on skin echoes off the brick, loud and filthy, your slick making obscene sounds with every drop. gravity does half the work—each downward motion seats him deeper, harder, the head kissing your cervix on every full drop while your clit grinds against his pelvis.
“that’s it,” he rasps, breath hot against your neck, teeth grazing your collarbone. “up—down—up—down. ridin’ me like the little slut you are. look how wide your legs are—pussy takin’ every fuckin’ inch while i hold you open.”
your arms loop around his neck for leverage, face buried in his shoulder as he keeps that punishing rhythm—lifting you high, then letting gravity slam you back down, over and over. each drop punches a gasp or a sob out of you, thighs shaking violently in his grip, cunt fluttering and spasming around the thick drag of him.
“toji, fuck—too deep,” you whimper, voice breaking on every bounce.
“too deep?” he mocks, lifting you higher this time, holding you there for a second so you feel the stretch at your entrance before dropping you again—hard. “you were cryin’ for more five minutes ago. now take it. take the whole cock while your legs are spread like a whore earnin’ her weed.”
he picks up the pace just enough—still controlled, still using your body weight to fuck you onto him, but faster now, each drop making your tits bounce, your breath hitch, your walls clamp down harder. slick drips down his thighs, down yours, pooling on the floor beneath you in little wet spots.
“gonna keep you like this,” he mutters, voice strained, sweat rolling down his temple. “gonna fuck you standin’ till you can’t walk straight. till every step tomorrow reminds you who owns this pussy.”
your legs are jelly in his hold, spread so wide the muscles burn, but the angle has him hitting that spot inside you on every drop now—relentless, perfect, building pressure you can’t escape.
“toji, please—” you gasp, nails raking down his back. “gonna—gonna—”
“not yet,” he growls, slowing the drops just enough to keep you teetering, holding you suspended for a heartbeat longer each time before letting you fall. “you come when i say. you earned the cock—now earn the orgasm.”
he keeps fucking you like that—up and down his length, legs forced wide, body pinned between brick and muscle—slow enough to torture, deep enough to ruin, until you’re nothing but shaking, dripping, begging mess in his arms.
he keeps that brutal rhythm—lifting you high with those iron grips under your thighs, legs forced wide apart, then dropping you down his full length every few seconds, letting gravity do the dirty work. each plunge bottoms him out hard, the thick head kissing your cervix, grinding against that swollen spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. your clit drags against his pelvis on every drop, slick and swollen, the friction building faster than you can handle.
your whole body is shaking now, thighs burning from being held so wide, cunt clenching harder and harder around him with every descent. the pressure coils tighter, hotter, a white-hot knot low in your belly that keeps winding and winding until you’re gasping broken little pleas into his neck.
“toji, fuck, i’m close, pleaseeee.”
“yeah?” he rasps, voice strained, sweat dripping down his temples as he lifts you again, holds you suspended for a heartbeat longer this time so the head of his cock stretches your entrance wide, teasing, before slamming you back down. the impact punches a sob out of you, walls fluttering wildly, so close—so fucking close—you can feel the orgasm cresting, thighs locking, breath stuttering.
“gonna come. . . gonna come on your cock—please—”
he groans deep, hips snapping up to meet the next drop, grinding there for a second while you’re fully seated, clit mashed against him, cock throbbing so thick inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. your nails rake down his back, body arching, the edge right there, right fucking there—
and then he stops.
completely.
still buried to the hilt, but frozen, holding you impaled and trembling, not moving an inch.
your eyes snap open, a desperate whine tearing from your throat. “no, no. . . don’t stop, i was—”
“shh,” he cuts you off, low and mean, lips brushing your ear while your pussy spasms uselessly around him, chasing the orgasm he just stole. “not yet, princess. you don’t get to come that easy.”
you sob once, frustrated and wrecked, hips twitching in his hold but he doesn’t let you grind, doesn’t let you chase it. your legs are still spread wide, thighs quivering in his grip, cunt dripping down his balls in frustrated little pulses.
“pleaseee, toji, i need—”
“i know what you need,” he murmurs, voice dark with amusement, starting to walk—still holding you like this, cock buried deep, every step making him nudge against your walls in tiny torturous shifts. “but i might not fuck you again after tonight. broke little student shows up once, pays with her mouth and her pussy, gets her stash and disappears. so if this is the only time…”
he turns, carrying you effortlessly toward the low metal table in the corner—the one with the black box of weed still sitting on it like a taunt.
“…might as well try as many positions as i can while i’ve got you spread and drippin’ like this.”
he sets you down on the edge of the table—cold metal biting into your ass—legs still hooked over his arms, held wide apart. he doesn’t pull out, just adjusts his stance so he’s standing between your thighs, cock still throbbing inside you, the new angle letting him sink even deeper somehow, pressing right up against that spot that makes your toes curl.
“look at you,” he says, eyes raking over where you’re impaled, legs splayed obscenely on the table, skirt rucked up, tits heaving with every ragged breath. “spread wide on my table like a fuckin’ buffet. gonna fuck you here next. gonna make sure you feel me in every position before i decide if you’re worth round two.”
he rolls his hips once—slow, deep, deliberate—grinding the head against your g-spot while his pelvis drags over your clit. the denied orgasm flares back to life instantly, hotter, meaner, building twice as fast now that you’re teetering so close already.
“toji, please—” you beg, voice cracking, hands scrabbling at the edge of the table for leverage. “let me come—i’ll do anything—”
“you’ll do anything anyway,” he mutters, starting a slow, punishing rhythm again—pulling out halfway, then slamming back in, making the table creak under you. “but you come when i say. not before. not when you’re this close to beggin’ me to keep you as my personal little weed slut.”
each thrust jolts you, legs shaking in his hold, cunt clenching desperately, the buildup roaring back twice as intense—pressure so thick it hurts, so close again you can taste it, thighs locking, breath hitching—
and he stops again.
buried deep, still, watching your face crumple with frustration and need.
he holds you there again—impaled to the hilt on the cold metal table, legs still hooked wide over his thick forearms, thighs burning from the stretch, cunt stuffed so full you can feel every vein pulsing against your fluttering walls. the denied orgasm throbs like a second heartbeat low in your belly, sharp and angry, every tiny clench around him sending fresh sparks of frustrated pleasure-pain up your spine. your clit is swollen and untouched now, aching where it presses uselessly against his pelvis, every shallow breath you take making it throb harder.
toji’s chest rises and falls slow against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking where your tits are crushed to him. he doesn’t move. just lets you feel him—thick, hot, unmoving—while your pussy spasms helplessly, trying to drag friction from nothing. slick drips steadily from where you’re stretched around him, pooling on the table beneath your ass in warm little puddles that cool fast against the metal.
“feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and mean, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “how full you are? how deep? you’re grippin’ me like a vice, baby—pussy’s cryin’ for it, clenchin’ over and over like it thinks it can force me to move.”
you whimper, head falling back, the back of your skull thunking softly against the table. tears of pure frustration prick at your lashes again. your hips twitch—tiny, involuntary jerks—but his grip tightens instantly, iron bands under your thighs keeping you exactly where he wants you: spread, suspended, stuffed, and denied.
“don’t,” he warns, voice dropping darker. “you move again and i pull out completely. leave you empty and drippin’ on my table like the desperate little thing you are.”
a broken sob tears out of you. “toji—please—i can’t—i need—”
“need to come?” he finishes for you, mocking, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw, forcing your face toward his so you have to look at him. his eyes are dark, pupils blown, sweat beading on his brow from how hard he’s holding himself back. “yeah, i know. been feelin’ it build twice now. felt you flutterin’ right on the edge, walls squeezin’ me so tight i almost lost it. but not yet.”
he rolls his hips once—just once—slow, deliberate, grinding the fat head against your g-spot in a lazy circle that makes your whole body seize. stars burst behind your eyelids again, breath punching out in a high, shattered whine as the pressure surges back vicious and immediate.
“see?” he rasps, holding you there, grinding shallow but deep enough to torment. “that’s all you get right now. just enough to keep you stupid and wet and beggin’. you wanna come so bad you’re shakin’—thighs burnin’, pussy leakin’ down my balls—but you don’t get to. not till i say.”
your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving red crescents. tears slip free now, tracking hot down your cheeks. “i’ll do anything—please—toji—i’m sorry—i’ll come back—i’ll pay next time—just let me—”
he chuckles, low and cruel, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “you’ll come back anyway. broke little college girl with a taste for premium shit and a pussy that can’t say no. but tonight?” he pulls back just enough to let the head stretch your entrance wide—cold air hitting your soaked folds for a heartbeat—before sinking back in slow, torturously slow, until he’s buried again. “tonight you learn patience.”
he starts moving again—not thrusting, not really—just tiny, shallow rolls of his hips that drag the thick ridge of his cockhead over that swollen spot inside you over and over. it’s not enough to push you over. it’s exactly enough to keep you teetering—pressure building, coiling tighter, hotter, meaner with every denied peak.
your legs shake violently in his hold, thighs quivering from being forced so wide for so long. your cunt flutters uselessly around him, slick gushing in frustrated little pulses that drip down his shaft, coating his balls, making every tiny movement wetter, louder.
“toji—” your voice cracks, raw and pleading. “it hurts—need to come—please—”
“i know it hurts, princess,” he soothes, almost gentle, but the words are filthy. “that’s the point. hurts so good you’re cryin’. pussy’s so sensitive now every little grind feels like too much. but you’re gonna take it. gonna sit here stuffed and shakin’ till i decide you’ve earned the right to fall apart.”
he leans in, lips brushing yours—not kissing, just teasing. “tell me you’ll come back next week. tell me you’ll show up short again. tell me you’ll let me edge this greedy cunt till you’re sobbin’ for it.”
you’re nodding before the words even register—frantic, desperate, tears streaming.
“yes—yes—i’ll come back—i’ll be short—i’ll beg—just please—”
he groans low, hips stuttering for a second like your words hit him hard. but he doesn’t give in.
instead he stills again—buried deep, throbbing, unmoving—watching your face crumple with fresh frustration, listening to the broken little sounds you can’t hold back.
“good girl,” he murmurs, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “next position,” he says casually, like he’s discussing the weather, already lifting you off the table. “bend over the couch this time. wanna see that ass bounce while i decide if you’ve earned the right to come at all.”
he doesn’t pull out. he just holds you there—still pinned against the table, legs hooked wide over his elbows, thighs trembling from the stretch, cunt stuffed full and throbbing around every thick inch of him. the denied orgasm still simmers under your skin, a low, angry buzz that makes every tiny shift of his hips feel like torture. your walls keep fluttering, clenching down hard in frustrated little pulses, trying to drag him deeper, to force the friction you’re starving for, but he stays perfectly still, letting you feel the full, heavy stretch without giving you a single thrust.
“feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear, breath hot enough to make you shiver. “how full you are? how deep i’m sittin’? every fuckin’ vein, every ridge—you’re grippin’ me like you’re scared i’ll disappear if you let go.”
you whimper, head thumping weakly back against the brick, tears of frustration clinging to your lashes again. your clit is swollen and untouched now, pulsing in time with your heartbeat, so sensitive that even the faint brush of his pelvis when he breathes makes your hips twitch involuntarily.
“toji—please—” the word cracks, barely more than a breath. “just—move. anything. i can’t—”
“can’t take it?” he finishes for you, smirking slow and mean. one hand slides up the back of your thigh, fingers digging in harder to keep your leg spread wide while the other braces against the wall beside your head, caging you in completely. “poor baby. got the whole cock now and still cryin’ for more. thought you were gonna come so pretty for me a minute ago. now look at you—shakin’, drippin’, beggin’ like a broke little whore who knows she’s gotta earn it.”
he rolls his hips once—barely an inch, just enough to drag the head along your front wall in a slow, deliberate grind that makes your breath hitch and your cunt spasm hard around him. the pressure flares bright and vicious, pushing you right back to that razor edge you were hovering on before he stopped, but he freezes again the second your thighs start to lock.
“no—no—no—” you sob, voice breaking, nails scraping uselessly down his shoulders. “don’t—don’t stop again—”
“then stay still,” he growls, low and dangerous, forehead pressed to yours now so you can’t hide your face. “you twitch, you grind, you try to fuck yourself on me? i stop. simple. i wanna feel this pussy cry for it. wanna feel how bad it wants to come without me givin’ it permission.”
your whole body is trembling—legs aching from being held so wide, cunt throbbing with every heartbeat, slick dripping steadily down where you’re joined, pooling on the floor beneath you in tiny, obscene drops. the denial is excruciating; every denied peak makes the next one build faster, meaner, until you’re not even sure you could come even if he let you. it’s too much pressure, too much need, coiled so tight it hurts.
“toji—” you whisper, voice wrecked and small. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry i came short. i’m sorry i’m broke. just—please—”
he exhales slow through his nose, eyes dark and unreadable as he watches another tear slip down your cheek.
“sorry ain’t enough anymore,” he says quietly, almost gentle, but the edge is still there. “you wanna come? you gotta convince me this tight little cunt is worth keepin’ around. tell me why i should let you fall apart on my cock when you couldn’t even bring enough cash to buy a gram.”
you swallow hard, throat clicking, words tumbling out in a desperate rush.
“because—because i’ll come back,” you choke. “i’ll come back every time. every time shoko needs more, every time i need to study, every time rent’s due and i’m short again. i’ll let you fuck me however you want. on my knees, bent over the table, against the wall—whatever. just—please let me come. please let me keep this.”
he’s quiet for a long second, cock twitching once inside you like your words hit something deep.
then he leans in, lips brushing the corner of your mouth—not a kiss, just a tease.
“good start,” he murmurs. “keep talkin’. keep tellin’ me how bad you need this cock to be your new payment plan. maybe—if you’re convincin’ enough—i’ll give you one slow thrust. just one. see if you can handle even that without fallin’ apart.”
your breath shudders out, body shaking harder, cunt clenching desperately around him as you start whispering again—broken, filthy promises, every word dripping with need—while he holds you there, spread wide and stuffed full, letting the denial burn hotter and hotter without mercy.
he finally shifts—slow, deliberate, like every decision is still his to make.
“alright,” he mutters, voice thick with restraint that’s starting to crack. “you’ve begged pretty enough. let’s see how that pussy takes it when your face is buried and your ass is up.”
he pulls out in one long, torturous drag that makes your walls flutter and clench around nothing, a broken whine spilling from your lips at the sudden emptiness. slick strings between you, thick and glistening, dripping down your inner thighs as he lowers your legs. they shake so hard you almost collapse, but his hands are already on your hips—firm, bruising—spinning you around so your front is to the couch.
“hands on the backrest,” he orders, low and rough. “ass up. spread those knees.”
you obey on trembling limbs, palms slapping against the worn faux leather, knees sinking into the cushion as you arch your back, presenting yourself. skirt still bunched around your waist, panties shoved aside and soaked through, cunt swollen and dripping, pulsing visibly in the dim light. the cool air hits your exposed skin and makes you shiver, clit throbbing painfully from all the denied peaks.
toji steps up behind you, one big hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down until your cheek smushes against the couch—fabric rough and smelling faintly of old sweat and smoke. your ass lifts higher, legs spread wide, thighs quivering from the stretch and the anticipation.
“fuckin’ look at this,” he breathes, voice reverent and filthy all at once. rough palms spread your cheeks wider, thumbs pulling your folds apart so he can see everything—how puffy and wet you are, how your hole clenches around nothing like it’s begging. “drippin’ down your thighs. pussy’s cryin’ for it. been cryin’ since you walked in short on cash.”
you whimper into the cushion, hips rocking back instinctively.
“stay,” he growls, one hand clamping on your hip to still you. the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance—hot, slick, impossibly thick—then sinks in slow, one devastating inch at a time, until his hips meet your ass and he’s buried to the hilt again.
the new angle is brutal. deeper. the head presses right against your cervix, stretching you so full your breath catches, walls spasming hard around every ridge and vein. gravity and the arch of your back let him bottom out completely, pelvis flush against your ass, balls pressed tight to your clit.
“oh—fuck—” you choke, voice muffled against the couch, fingers clawing at the leather.
he doesn’t move right away. just holds there, letting you feel him throb inside you, letting the stretch settle into your bones.
“feel that?” he rasps, voice gravel-rough. “whole cock. no more teasin’. this is what you earned, princess. now take it.”
he pulls out slow—agonizingly slow—until just the head stretches your rim, then slams back in hard enough to make the couch creak and your whole body jolt forward. the slap of skin on skin is loud, wet, obscene. every thrust punches a broken sound out of you—high, needy, wordless at first, then spilling into actual words.
“toji—oh god—toji—yes—fuck—deeper—”
he sets a punishing rhythm now—no more shallow games. long, hard strokes that drag every inch along your walls, bottoming out with a wet smack each time, his balls slapping against your clit on every plunge. the pressure builds fast—too fast—after all the edging, after every stolen orgasm. it coils low and vicious in your belly, tighter with every thrust, every grind of his hips when he bottoms out and circles there, stirring his cock inside you like he’s trying to rearrange your guts.
“gonna—gonna come—” you gasp, voice cracking, back arching harder, ass pushing back to meet him. “please—please let me—need to—”
“yeah,” he growls, one hand sliding around to find your clit—thumb pressing hard, rubbing fast, rough circles that match his thrusts. “come. fuckin’ come on my cock. soak it. show me you’re mine.”
the permission snaps something inside you.
your whole body locks up—thighs shaking, toes curling, cunt clamping down so hard around him it feels like you’re trying to trap him there forever. the orgasm rips through you like lightning—white-hot, blinding, shattering. you scream into the couch, voice raw and wrecked.
“toji—fuck—coming—coming so hard—oh god—yes—yes—”
he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. fucks you straight through it—harder, deeper—each thrust prolonging the waves, dragging them out until you’re shaking uncontrollably, slick gushing around his cock in messy pulses, dripping down your thighs, soaking the couch beneath you. your walls flutter and spasm wildly, milking him, and he groans low, hips stuttering for the first time as he feels you fall apart completely.
he keeps pounding through the aftershocks, through the way your body jerks and twitches, oversensitive and trembling, until your moans turn into soft, broken whimpers, until you’re boneless against the couch, ass still up, legs shaking, cunt still clenching weakly around him with every slow grind he gives you now.
he leans over you, chest to your back, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“good fuckin’ girl,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “came so pretty for me. now breathe. we’re not done yet.”
your body is still convulsing, walls clenching and releasing in erratic waves around his cock, every nerve ending firing off like exposed wires in a storm. the orgasm hasn't fully ebbed yet—it's still crashing through you, hot and relentless, making your thighs quiver uncontrollably against the couch cushion, your toes curling so hard they ache. slick gushes with every spasm, soaking the faux leather beneath you, the wet sounds obscene and echoing in the dim room as toji doesn't stop—doesn't even slow. he keeps thrusting through it all, long and deep and deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging his thick length along your oversensitive walls, grinding against that swollen spot inside that sends fresh sparks up your spine even as you whimper and twitch from the intensity.
“toji—too much—fuck—it's too sensitive—” you whine, voice muffled against the couch, raw and breaking on every syllable, your cheek scraping the rough fabric with every jolt of his hips. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes again, not from pain but from the overwhelming flood of sensation, your clit throbbing painfully where his balls slap against it on every plunge, your cunt fluttering wildly like it doesn't know whether to push him out or pull him deeper.
he chuckles low and rough behind you, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back where he's leaning over you now, one big hand planted beside your head for leverage. “shh, baby, i know—i know it's too much,” he murmurs, voice gone soft and praising even as his cock keeps splitting you open, slow and unyielding. “but you're doin' so good for me. takin' it like a champ. just breathe through it—yeah, just like that. good girl. you can handle a little more, can't you? for that special stash? for me?”
his free hand slides up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your sweat-damp hair—thick, calloused digits gathering a fistful of strands, wrapping them tight around his palm like a leash. he tugs—sharp but not cruel—yanking your head back off the couch so your back arches deeper, throat exposed, face tilting up toward the ceiling where the dim fluorescent lights blur through your tears. the pull stings at your scalp, a delicious burn that mixes with the overstimulation between your legs, making your whole body arch and tremble harder, your ass pressing back against his hips on instinct even as you sob out another plea.
“please—toji—can't—too sensitive—ah—”
“you can,” he praises, voice hot and gravelly against the shell of your ear, his breath damp and ragged from how hard he's holding himself back. “you're my good little slut, remember? comin' so pretty for me already, but we're not done. you're gonna get through this—gonna let me fuck you full 'til you're drippin' with me. then you'll get high soon, baby—real high. i'm gonna give you that new shit, the stuff that'll make your whole body float, make your pussy clench just from breathin' it in. i know you can't wait for that—can feel how you're still squeezin' me even when you're whinin' it's too much.”
he punctuates the words with a sharp slap to your ass—his big palm cracking down on the flesh where it jiggles from his thrusts, the sound echoing loud and wet in the room, the sting blooming hot and immediate across your skin. it makes you yelp, a high-pitched “fuck—toji—” slipping out as your cunt clamps down harder around him in response, fresh slick flooding out around his cock, dripping down your thighs and onto the couch below. the slap leaves a red handprint you can already feel heating up, throbbing in time with your heartbeat, and he rubs it immediately after—rough palm soothing the burn even as he tugs your hair tighter, keeping your head pulled back so he can watch your face twist in the dim light.
“see? that's it—good girl,” he groans, hips rolling slower now but deeper, gentler through the aftershocks, fucking you through the tail end of your orgasm with long, languid strokes that drag every inch along your fluttering walls. “whinin' so sweet but your pussy's lovin' it—still suckin' me in like you don't want me to stop. you're gonna get somethin' shoko never does, baby. somethin' special just for you. 'cause shoko never sucked my dick like you did—never got on her knees and choked on it for a discount. and she sure as hell never let me fuck her raw like this, never spread her legs and begged me to fill her up.”
his words sink in hot and filthy, mixing with the sensory overload—the way his cock feels impossibly thicker now, veins pulsing against your walls with every slow grind, the wet schlick of your arousal every time he bottoms out, the sting in your scalp from his fist in your hair, the lingering burn on your ass from that slap. your body is a live wire, oversensitive everywhere—clit pulsing with every brush of his balls, nipples hard and scraping against the couch fabric, thighs slick and trembling from the constant spread. the room smells thick with sex—sweat and musk and the sharp tang of your release—and the air is humid, sticking to your skin like a second layer.
“toji—oh god—gonna—again—” you gasp, voice shattering as the overstimulation flips into something sharper, hotter, the gentle thrusts building a new pressure fast, your cunt starting to flutter again in warning spasms.
“that's right—good girl—let it build,” he praises, tugging your hair just a little harder to arch you more, his other hand sliding around to grip your hip, fingers digging in to hold you steady as he keeps that slow, relentless pace. “you're doin' so fuckin' good—whinin' 'bout how sensitive you are but still pushin' back for more. i know it's too much, baby—i know—but you're gonna get through it. gonna come again for me, aren't you? gonna soak my cock and squirt all over this couch like the desperate little thing you are.”
his words push you closer, the praise wrapping around the sensitivity like fuel, making every thrust feel like it's scraping raw nerves in the best way. he picks up the pace just a fraction—still gentle, still fucking you through it—but enough to make your ass jiggle with every slap of his hips, enough to make fresh tears spill down your cheeks as the coil tightens impossibly fast. your cunt clenches hard, walls milking him in rhythmic pulses, slick building and building until—
“toji, fuck—coming—i'm squirting. . . oh god—”
it hits like a flood—sharp and sudden, your whole body seizing up as you squirt hard around his cock, clear fluid gushing out in messy spurts with every thrust, soaking his thighs, his balls, dripping down onto the couch in hot, wet puddles that spread dark stains across the faux leather. you scream into the air now—head pulled back by his fist in your hair, throat raw and exposed—the sound high and broken, “yes, yes—toji—fuuuck. too much—too good—” as he keeps moving, keeps grinding deep through the squirt, prolonging it until you're shaking violently, legs trying to close but held open by the position, ass up and trembling.
“fuck yes, good girl. . . squirtin' all over my couch like that,” he groans, voice thick with pride and hunger, his thrusts never faltering, cock throbbing harder inside you as your release coats everything. “that's what i wanted—look at this mess, my good little student payin' with her pussy and makin' it rain. you're doin' perfect, baby, keep goin', let it all out.”
he fucks you through the entire thing—gentle but insistent, dragging out every last spasm until your body's limp and spent, still twitching weakly around him, slick pooling beneath you on the couch, dripping down your legs in sticky trails. your whines turn soft and breathless, sensitivity peaking into something almost unbearable, but his praise keeps you grounded.
finally, he slows—still buried deep, cock pulsing hot inside you—but his thrusts ease into shallow rolls, letting you catch your breath as he releases your hair, hand sliding down to rub soothing circles on your back, the other still gripping your hip like he owns it. the room spins slow around you, body boneless and buzzing, the afterglow mixing with the promise of more as he leans down, lips brushing your shoulder.
“that's my girl,” he murmurs, voice soft now, almost tender. “you did so good. now breathe—'cause i'm not done fillin' you up yet.”
he’s still buried deep, hips flush against your ass, cock throbbing hot and heavy inside your oversensitive cunt as the last tremors of your squirt ripple through you. your body is limp and shaking, cheek smushed sideways against the couch cushion, drool pooling under your open mouth, hair tangled and sweat-soaked from where he’d fisted it earlier. every shallow breath you take makes your walls flutter weakly around him, milking him in soft, involuntary pulses even though you’re too wrecked to clench on purpose anymore.
toji’s breathing is ragged now—short, harsh exhales through his nose that fan hot against the nape of your neck. his big hands are braced on either side of your hips, knuckles white against the faux leather, veins bulging along his forearms as he holds himself perfectly still for a long moment, letting you feel every thick inch of him pulse inside you. the room is quiet except for the wet, sticky sounds of your combined breathing and the faint drip-drip of your release still leaking from where you’re joined, pooling in dark, glistening spots on the couch below.
“fuck,” he rasps, voice cracked and low, almost reverent. “look at you—still twitchin’ around me even after all that. pussy’s greedy as hell, baby. still tryin’ to keep me in even when you’re cryin’ it’s too much.”
you make a soft, broken sound—half whimper, half moan—too exhausted to form real words. your thighs tremble violently where they’re spread, muscles jumping every time his cock gives another lazy throb deep inside you. the overstimulation has turned everything raw: your clit is swollen and hypersensitive, brushing his balls with every tiny shift; your walls feel bruised and tender but still fluttering like they can’t decide whether to push him out or pull him deeper.
he leans down slowly, chest pressing to your back, the weight of him pinning you harder against the couch. one hand slides up your side—rough palm dragging over sweat-slick skin—until thick fingers wrap around the front of your throat, not squeezing, just holding, thumb stroking the frantic pulse there.
“gonna come,” he mutters against your ear, voice gravel and heat, hips starting to roll again—slow, deep grinds that make you gasp sharp every time he bottoms out. “been holdin’ back so long—fuuuck—your pussy’s too good. too wet. too tight. gonna fill you up, princess.”
your breath hitches. “toji—wait—”
but he doesn’t wait.
he doesn’t even ask properly.
“can i come inside?” he growls low, the words more demand than question, hips already picking up speed—short, hard thrusts now that punch the air from your lungs and make the couch creak under you both. “gonna come inside this pretty cunt—gonna pump you so full—”
you open your mouth to answer—yes, no, please, anything—but the word never makes it out.
he slams in one last time—deep, brutal, hips locking flush against your ass—and groans long and rough into your hair as he starts to come.
it’s thick.
it’s too much.
hot, heavy spurts flood you immediately, so copious you can actually feel the pressure build inside, feel every pulse of his cock as he empties himself deep in your core. rope after thick rope paints your walls, filling you until there’s nowhere left for it to go. the excess forces its way out around his shaft—creamy white leaking from where you’re stretched tight around him, dripping in slow, sticky trails down your inner thighs, splattering onto the couch cushion below in messy little puddles that mix with your own release.
“fuuuuck—take it, take every drop. . ” he grunts through clenched teeth, hips stuttering as he grinds through his orgasm, milking himself dry inside you. each shallow roll makes more leak out, the wet squelch loud and filthy in the quiet room, the sensation of being so full—so overflowing—making fresh tears slip down your cheeks even as your cunt clenches weakly around him, trying to keep it all in.
you whimper brokenly, body trembling under the weight of him, the stretch, the heat, the sheer volume of his release spilling out of you and ruining the couch even more. it’s dripping steadily now—thick strands connecting his balls to your swollen folds every time he shifts, pooling beneath you in a warm, sticky mess that soaks into the already-stained leather.
he stays buried deep for long seconds after the last pulse, breathing hard against your shoulder, cock still twitching inside you like it’s not ready to stop. one hand slides down between your thighs—fingers spreading your folds so he can watch his cum leak out in slow, obscene rivulets, thumb brushing over your oversensitive clit just once, making you jerk and sob.
“look at that,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and satisfied, almost awed. “filled you so full it’s pourin’ out. my good girl. . .takin’ all of it like you were made for it.”
he finally eases back—slow, careful—until his softening cock slips free with a wet pop. a thick gush of cum follows immediately, spilling from your gaping hole in a hot, creamy rush that drips down your thighs and onto the ruined couch, the sight so filthy it makes your face burn even through the haze.
he steps back just enough to admire it—hands spreading your cheeks again so he can see the mess he made: your pussy puffy and red, fluttering weakly, cum leaking in slow, viscous strands that stretch and break as gravity pulls them down.
“perfect,” he breathes, thumb swiping through the mess and pushing some of it back inside you like he’s marking his territory one last time. “now you’re really paid up, princess.”
he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a rough whisper.
“stay just like that a minute. let it drip. then i’m takin’ you to the back. gonna roll you the fattest joint you’ve ever seen. somethin’ special. somethin’ that’ll have you floatin’ so high you forget your own name.”
you can only nod weakly against the couch, body boneless, thighs shaking, pussy still twitching and leaking his cum in slow, lazy drops as the aftershocks hum through you.
he chuckles soft—almost fond—and gives your ass one last gentle pat.
“good girl. you earned it.”
toji exhales slow and ragged, still catching his breath as he finally pulls back enough to look down at the mess he’s made of you. your ass is still up, face half-buried in the couch cushion, thighs trembling and slick with sweat, your pussy swollen and gaping slightly from how thoroughly he’s fucked you open. thick ropes of his cum are leaking out in lazy, creamy dribbles—sliding down your inner thighs in slow, viscous trails, pooling on the already-ruined leather below in warm, sticky puddles that glisten under the dim back-room lights.
he lets out a low, appreciative hum, one big hand smoothing down the curve of your spine like he’s petting something precious.
“fuckin’ beautiful,” he mutters, voice hoarse and wrecked. “look at this—pussy’s still twitchin’, pushin’ more of me out like it doesn’t wanna let go.”
before you can even try to move—or whimper another plea—he drops to his knees behind you.
the couch creaks as his weight shifts. rough palms slide up the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider again, thumbs hooking into the soft flesh just under your ass to hold you open. you feel the heat of his breath first—hot and damp against your oversensitive folds—then the flat of his tongue.
he licks a long, slow stripe from your clit all the way up to your leaking entrance, collecting the thick mixture of his cum and your slick in one deliberate pass. the texture is obscene: warm, salty, bitter-sweet, coating his tongue as he groans deep in his throat at the taste. he doesn’t swallow. he just keeps going—lapping at you like he’s cleaning every drop, tongue dipping inside your fluttering hole to scoop out more, swirling around your swollen clit in lazy circles that make your hips jerk despite how spent you are.
“toji. . . fuck, sensitive—” you gasp, voice cracking, trying to squirm away but his hands clamp down harder, pinning your thighs in place.
“stay,” he growls against your cunt, the vibration making you whine. “let me clean you up, baby. you made such a pretty mess—gonna taste every bit of it.”
he works methodically—broad strokes of his tongue dragging through your folds, sucking gently at your entrance to pull more cum into his mouth, lips sealing around your clit for a second just to hear you sob. the sounds are filthy: wet slurps, soft groans from deep in his chest, the occasional drip of excess that he catches before it falls. your thighs shake harder, oversensitive nerves firing off sparks every time his tongue flicks over your clit or pushes inside to chase another thick glob of his release.
when he’s satisfied—when your pussy is glistening clean but still puffy and flushed—he finally pulls back. his lips and chin are shiny with the mess, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. he doesn’t swallow. instead he rises slow, knees cracking faintly, and reaches down to help you shift.
“c’mere,” he murmurs, voice rough but softer now.
strong hands slide under your arms, lifting you gently off the couch like you weigh nothing. your legs are jelly—barely able to hold you—but he doesn’t let you fall. he turns you around, sits on the edge of the couch himself, then pulls you down onto his lap so you’re straddling him properly this time, facing him, knees planted on either side of his hips. your skirt is still rucked up around your waist, cum-smeared thighs sticking to his sweatpants, but he doesn’t care. one arm bands around your lower back to keep you close, the other hand cups the back of your neck, thumb stroking along your jaw.
your faces are inches apart now. you can see every detail: the sweat beading at his temples, the faint scar at the corner of his mouth, the way his pupils are blown wide and dark with something that looks almost like reverence.
he leans in slow—giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—and kisses you.
it’s not gentle. it’s deep and possessive from the first second. his tongue pushes past your lips immediately, carrying the thick, salty-bitter taste of his own cum mixed with your slick. he feeds it to you deliberately—slow sweeps of his tongue against yours, letting you taste every drop he’d gathered from between your legs. the flavor coats your mouth: warm, musky, faintly metallic, the unmistakable evidence of how thoroughly he’d filled you. you make a small, helpless sound into the kiss—half moan, half whimper—as he tilts your head to deepen it, tongue curling around yours to make sure you swallow every bit he’s offering.
his hand tightens on the back of your neck, keeping you right there while the other slides down to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him so you can feel the softening weight of his cock pressed between you, still slick with the remnants of both of you.
he breaks the kiss just enough to speak against your lips, voice low and gravel-rough.
“taste that?” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, smearing a last trace of cum across it. “that’s what you do to me, princess. that’s what you earned.”
you’re too wrecked to answer—only nod weakly, lips tingling, mouth full of the taste of him, body still humming with aftershocks and the slow drip of what’s left inside you. he kisses you again—slower this time, almost lazy, like he’s savoring the mess he’s made of you both.
when he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing hard, one hand still cradling your face.
“stay right here,” he says quietly, almost soft. “gonna get that joint rolled. gonna make sure you float so high you forget how sensitive this little pussy is right now.”
he presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth—gentle, almost sweet—then eases you off his lap onto the couch beside him, tucking your skirt down absently like it matters.
“don’t move,” he adds with a crooked grin, standing on legs that are still a little unsteady. “you’ve earned every fuckin’ puff.”
you’re slumped on the edge of the couch now, legs pressed together like that’ll somehow stop the dull, delicious ache between them. your skirt is smoothed back down—mostly—panties readjusted but still damp and clinging uncomfortably, cotton soaked through with the mix of both of you. every tiny shift makes your sore pussy throb, a reminder of how thoroughly toji stretched and filled you, how much cum he pumped inside until it leaked out in thick, creamy rivers despite your body trying to keep it all. your thighs are sticky, skin still flushed and sensitive, and when you cross your legs it sends a fresh, traitorous pulse straight to your clit. your legs tremble faintly when you try to stand, so you stay seated, phone pressed to your ear, trying to sound normal.
shoko’s voice crackles through the speaker on full blast because your hands are too shaky to hold it steady.
“what the fuck is taking you so long?” she drawls, lazy and annoyed, the unmistakable clink of ice in a glass in the background. “you’ve been gone for like two hours. did he rob you? did you get lost in the weight room? blink twice if you need rescue.”
in the background gojo’s voice cuts in, loud and obnoxious as always. “she’s probably negotiating with her tits out. classic y/n move. did you flash him yet? show the goods for the discount?”
geto’s quieter laugh follows, warm and amused. “she’s fine. probably just haggling. or getting high without us. rude.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to keep your voice even even though your cunt is still pulsing with aftershocks and you can feel another slow trickle of toji’s cum leaking out, soaking into the already-ruined fabric of your panties.
“i’m not flashing anyone,” you snap, voice a little too high, a little too breathless. “and i’m not getting high without you assholes. he’s just… slow. packaging shit. you know how dealers are.”
shoko snorts. “uh-huh. sure. you sound weird. out of breath. did he make you run laps or something?”
gojo cackles. “laps on his dick maybe—”
“shut the fuck up, satoru,” you hiss, cheeks burning so hot you’re grateful no one can see you right now. “i’m fine. i’ve got the stash. i’m coming back in a few minutes. and don’t be a bitch about it—this is your fault. you’re the one who ran out the day before our presentation and sent me into shinjuku like some sacrificial lamb because ‘he likes new girls’ and ‘you’ve got tits he hasn’t seen yet.’ so sit your ass down, sip your wine, and wait.”
shoko laughs—low, smug, unbothered. “okay, okay, princess. just hurry up. gojo’s already eaten half the pizza and geto’s about to start the second season without you.”
“we’re not starting without her,” geto says mildly in the background. “she’s the only one who remembers the plot anyway.”
“then tell gojo to stop being a gremlin and save me a slice,” you mutter. “i’ll be there in—”
the couch dips beside you.
toji drops down heavy and casual, like he didn’t just ruin you against a wall and on this very couch ten minutes ago. he’s shirtless again, sweatpants slung low, that same lazy, predatory grin curling his mouth as he sets the small black box on the cushion between you. he flips it open one-handed, pulls out several dense, glittering nugs—deep purples and greens flecked with crystals—and starts dropping them into a couple of small ziplocks with practiced flicks of his thick fingers.
your breath catches. he’s close enough that you can smell him again—sweat, musk, sex, the faint citrus of whatever cleaner he uses in this grimy gym—and feel the heat radiating off his bare skin. your sore pussy gives a weak, traitorous flutter at the proximity, a reminder of how full he’d been, how much he’d left inside you.
shoko’s still talking. “—and if you don’t bring at least an eighth i’m not letting you hit the indica. you know the rules.”
toji glances at you sideways, eyes glinting with amusement as he seals one bag, then another. he leans in just enough that his shoulder brushes yours, voice dropping to a murmur only you can hear while shoko rambles on.
“tell her you got more than an eighth,” he says quietly, lips barely moving. “tell her you earned the premium shit. the stuff that makes you see colors.”
you swallow hard, thighs pressing together again as another slow drip escapes you, warm and thick against your folds.
“i’ve got it,” you say into the phone, trying to sound annoyed instead of wrecked. “more than an eighth. premium. the good shit. i’ll be there in a few minutes with the fucking stash. stop bitching.”
shoko starts to say something else—probably another smartass comment—but you don’t wait.
you hang up.
the second the call ends you let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping. your legs are still trembling faintly, pussy sore and swollen, every shift reminding you of the stretch, the fullness, the way he’d fucked you through your orgasm until you squirted all over his couch. and now you’re sitting here leaking his cum while he casually packs weed like nothing happened.
toji chuckles low, sealing the last bag and sliding the small pile toward you—three fat eighths, easily, plus a couple extra grams in a separate little packet that looks different, darker, stickier.
“special stash,” he says simply, tapping the extra one. “like i promised. the one that makes your whole body float. makes your pussy clench just from breathin’ it. shoko’s never touched this shit.”
he leans back, one arm slung across the couch behind you, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“you gonna be able to walk outta here, princess?” he asks, voice teasing but not cruel. “or you need me to carry you to your shitty civic?”
you glare at him—weakly—cheeks still flushed, legs still shaky, but you manage to snatch the bags and shove them into your purse with trembling fingers.
“i can walk,” you mutter, even though you’re not entirely sure. “just… give me a second.”
he grins wider, eyes dragging down your body like he’s remembering every position he had you in.
“take your time,” he says, voice dropping low again. “you earned it.”
you stand—slow, careful—thighs sticking together, a fresh trickle of his cum sliding down your inner thigh as you do. you ignore it. ignore the way your cunt throbs in protest. ignore the way toji watches every shaky step like he’s already planning round two.
you’re halfway to the door when he calls after you, casual as anything.
“next time you need more,” he says, “don’t send shoko. come yourself. cash or no cash.”
you don’t answer.
you just push through the door into the humid night air, legs trembling, pussy still leaking him, purse heavy with the best weed you’ve ever held—and the knowledge that you’re absolutely, irrevocably fucked.
in every sense of the word.
you stumble out of the gym into the thick july night, the door clanging shut behind you like the final punctuation on whatever the fuck just happened. the air is still sweltering, sticky against your skin, but it feels cooler than the humid back room you just left. your legs are jelly—every step sends a dull, throbbing reminder through your sore pussy, the sticky warmth of toji’s cum still leaking slow and thick into your panties, soaking the cotton until it clings uncomfortably between your folds. you have to pause once, leaning against the brick wall outside, breathing shallow through your nose as another trickle escapes and slides down your inner thigh. you press your legs together harder, trying to trap it, but it only makes your clit twitch in protest.
your purse feels heavier than it should—three fat eighths plus that extra special packet of the dark, sticky shit toji called “the one that makes your whole body float.” you can already smell it faintly through the ziplocks: sweet, earthy, with that sharp citrus edge that promises oblivion.
the civic is parked crookedly half a block away. you make it there on shaky legs, slide into the driver’s seat, and immediately regret it—the cracked faux leather is cold against the backs of your thighs, and sitting down presses everything sore and swollen right where it hurts most. you hiss through your teeth, shift your hips, try to find a position that doesn’t make you whimper. it doesn’t exist.
you start the car. the ac blasts lukewarm air that does nothing for the heat still radiating off your skin. your phone buzzes in the cup holder—shoko again. you ignore it, put the car in drive, and crawl through traffic like you’re ninety years old.
by the time you pull up to the apartment complex, your thighs are sticking together worse than before, and every bump in the road makes you bite your lip to keep from moaning. you kill the engine, sit there for a second with your forehead on the steering wheel, breathing slow. you can still taste him—salty, bitter, musky—coating the back of your tongue from that filthy kiss. your lips feel swollen. your whole body feels branded.
you grab your purse, step out carefully, and hobble toward the building like you’ve just run a marathon in heels you don’t own.
the door to shoko’s place is cracked open—music leaking out, low bass and laughter. you push inside.
the living room smells like pizza grease, weed residue from last week, and shoko’s signature cheap rosé. gojo’s sprawled on the floor in front of the tv, controller in hand, yelling at the screen. geto’s cross-legged on the couch, scrolling his phone, looking amused. shoko’s in the kitchen doorway, wine glass dangling from her fingers, one eyebrow already arched like she’s been waiting to dissect you.
they all look up at once.
gojo’s the first to speak, grin splitting wide and evil.
“holy shit. you look like you got hit by a truck. or fucked by one.”
shoko snorts into her glass. “told you. two hours? that’s rookie numbers for toji. what’d he do, make you lift weights first?”
geto doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head, dark eyes scanning you slowly—your flushed cheeks, the way you’re standing a little too carefully, legs pressed together, the faint tremor in your hands as you clutch your purse like a lifeline.
you force a scowl, hobble over to the couch, and drop down beside geto as gracefully as you can manage. the impact makes you wince—your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing, a fresh gush of cum-soaked slick seeping out. you cross your legs tight, pray it doesn’t show through your skirt.
“here,” you mutter, yanking the ziplocks out of your purse and tossing them onto the coffee table. three fat eighths land with soft thuds, plus the smaller special packet that glints darker under the lamp. “premium. coma slut and whatever the fuck that extra shit is. happy now?”
shoko’s eyes widen. she sets her wine down, leans forward, picks up the special bag like it’s holy.
“wait. this is—the heavy one? the one he only gives out if you—”
she cuts herself off, looks at you again. really looks. at the way your mascara is smudged (you’d tried to wipe it in the car mirror but gave up), the faint red mark on your neck you hadn’t noticed until now, the way you’re sitting like every movement hurts in the best-worst way.
gojo crawls over on his knees, snatches one of the regular bags, cracks it open, inhales deep.
“smells like money and bad decisions,” he says cheerfully. then his eyes flick to you. “you smell like sex and gym mats, though. spill.”
“i don’t smell like anything,” you snap, too fast. your voice cracks on the end.
geto finally speaks, quiet and amused, not looking up from his phone.
“you’re walking funny.”
shoko’s grin turns downright demonic.
“oh my god. you didn’t just get the discount. you got the full toji experience.”
“shut up,” you hiss, cheeks burning. “he was just… slow. packaging took forever. that’s all.”
gojo cackles so hard he falls backward onto the carpet. “packaging. sure. with what? his dick?”
shoko picks up the special packet again, holds it up to the light.
“this shit? he doesn’t give this to anyone. not even me. and i’ve been buying from him for two years.” she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “what the hell did you do to him?”
you snatch the bag from her fingers, shove it back into your purse like it’s evidence you need to hide.
“nothing. i just—talked to him. negotiated. like a normal person.”
geto finally sets his phone down, leans back, arms crossed, smiling that calm, knowing smile that makes you want to die.
“you’re glowing,” he says simply. “and you smell like latex and regret. congratulations.”
gojo sits up, eyes sparkling with chaos.
“did he call you princess? did he make you say thank you? did he—”
“i’m going to the bathroom,” you announce, standing too fast. your legs wobble, pussy throbbing in protest, another slow drip escaping down your thigh. you clamp your legs together, ignore the way shoko’s eyes flick down and her grin widens.
“sure,” she calls after you. “wash his cum off your thighs and come back so we can smoke your hard-earned pussy discount.”
you flip her off without turning around, hobble down the hall, lock yourself in the bathroom, and sink onto the closed toilet lid with your head in your hands.
your phone buzzes.
unknown number.
you open it.
one message.
toji: next time bring cash. or don’t. either way, door’s open.
you stare at the screen for a long second, heart thudding, sore cunt giving one last weak flutter at the memory.
you delete the message.
then you screenshot it anyway.
because you’re already thinking about next time.
and you hate that you’re already thinking about next time.
you splash water on your face, fix your mascara as best you can, and head back out to the living room where your friends are waiting to roast you alive.
Synopsis. Gojo Satoru: the handsome captain of the Tokyo Free Blades, the biggest heartthrob in ice hockey, infamous for his rivalry with a certain pink-haired center. Ryomen Sukuna: the mean captain of the Heian Hawks, the one always in the headlines for starting a fight, 6’6 tall and livid over losing his title to that smug bastard. You: the only thing they both want more than a Stanley Cup.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader x Ryomen Sukuna
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, ice hockey player!Gojo, ice hockey player!Sukuna, ice hockey AU, slightly inspired by Heated Rivalry, matches, fights (between Gojo and Sukuna), tension, you’re Gojo’s gf, Sukuna doesn’t care, semi-pubIic (locker rooms), oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, spítting, fuIl neIsons, p talking, p sIapping, cúm-eating, pússydrúnk men, writing on p, Sukuna with tattoos, they’re POSSESSIVE, fighting for you, manhandIing, thréesome, sandwich position, DP, they’re BIG, bickering while inside you, rough s, making you count, DÚMBlFICATION, squírting, overstím, creampíes, cúmpIay, implied marathons, commentators, happy ending, getting together, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 11.0k
A/N. I still haven’t fully watched the show I had edits and a dream.
“Poise. Precision—power! Gojo Satoru and Ryomen Sukuna are about to take the opening face-off- just waiting for that puck to drop.” Sharp and snappy. The commentator’s booming voice takes up every inch of the stadium, though not nearly as loud as the recorded 103,000 in attendance tonight. On the edges of their seats. The game was only just starting.
More roars.
More applause.
More cries from a crowd clashing in blue and red.
Gojo glares ahead at the other captain, both circling that face-off spot like sharks in the water. Ice-blue eyes meet red. Ice-cold. Sukuna’s thick helmet can’t muffle the sheer arrogance in his tone- “Your girl?”
He almost startles- before he’s realizing just where Sukuna was gesturing to. Right where the red goal line divided the net from the floor: Tokyo Free Blades vs. Heian Hawks. Right where it ran until a plexiglass wall, from behind which the loudest, prettiest cheers were coming for him.
From you.
“Yeah.” Gojo scowls, “She’s my girl.”
At this, the pink-haired man is letting out a loooow whistle- one of his pink brows raise as he looks between his opponent and you in the stands.
Oh—how fuckin’ pretty you were.
Just engulfed in an ice-blue jersey with the Tokyo Free Blades logo on the front - they sold those things for far more than they were worth, but Sukuna’s sure this must’ve been one of Gojo’s own. It was big enough and looked softer than the merchandise- or maybe that was just the slight blur around your figure…were the lights too harsh or was Sukuna hallucinating? It’s slipping down to your wrists, where you were holding a big banner that had your boyfriend’s name on it—‘Go Go Gojo The Strongest Satoru!’ Eyes sparkling. Lips slightly swollen from your nervous gnawing. Jumpin’ up and down excitedly as you catch his eye. How cute…
And while Sukuna’s wondering just how damn lucky the bastard opposite him was- Gojo can’t help but muse about just how awfully the other’s hair color clashed with his uniform.
Blood-red just like his eyes.
Locked and narrowed on you—
Gojo’s knocking his hockey stick against Sukuna’s, making the other man finally tear his eyes away. He gruffs out finally, “Never said she wasn’t.”
He pushes against his opponent’s wooden blade harder, “Then why’ve you got her name in your fucking mouth?”
“What- scared she’s gonna like it better in my mouth, heh?” Only for the other to push back with a leer.
“The mouth I punched back in the New York playoffs?” Gojo scoffs. They’d played against each other a few times before - it was impossible to avoid anyone in the big leagues. And each time had ended up with one or both in the infirmary and headlines for days. “Or the mouth that got himself suspended for two games a few months ago?”
He sweeps a look towards you in the stands, you were on your feet and looking over them in concern now. And listen—listen, Gojo was well-aware he’s lucky to have you - and proud of it. But having you be stared at by this son of a-
Sukuna leans in with a whisper, “The mouth tha’s gonna make your girl cum harder than she has in her entire life.”
“See, the difference between you and I…” And Gojo should be rageful- he was. Despite that strange throb in his shorts, he promises he was. But more than that he couldn’t stop from leaning in himself, letting his breath cloud out within the cold stadium. Against Sukuna’s ear shell, “-is that you can only dream…while I have my mouth on her every fucking night.”
Sukuna jerks away, “You little-”
“Oh, and the title as well.” Gojo smirks, that little dimple popping out by the edge of his lips. He can hear his numerous fan clubs scream even louder - Gojo Satoru had splashed onto the ice hockey world and shot straight to the top without looking back.
They couldn’t get enough of the Prince of the Ice.
His looks. His winks. His plays. “Perhaps you haven’t realized it yet, Ryomen Sukuna, but the only reason you were the greatest center in history was simply because…I wasn’t playing yet~”
The other man straightens silently. He was a few inches taller than Gojo, standing at an impressive 6’6 to Gojo’s 6’4. It was easy to realize why the media seemed to love him as a ‘bad boy’ - the troublesome one. Despite them being similar ages, he was the more experienced one. Buffer. Nastier. Tattooed and towering.
They called him the King of the Rink for a reason. And the King looked down on them all—especially new captains with blue eyes and too many fan clubs. But that wasn’t saying he didn’t have many of his own - but at least he deserved his. “And what took ya so long to reach my level, Gojo Satoru?”
Gojo looks at Sukuna.
Gojo looks at you.
Then back at the other player- “Was too busy fucking my girl.”
And Sukuna’s ready to spit out something that wouldn’t be able to air on sports channels- before the referee skates over just then.
His deadpan voice cutting through the chaos, “Alright alright, break it up you two.” The older man - Masamichi Yaga, a legendary player in his own time, one of Gojo’s own junior coaches - looks between the two. “Keep it clean.”
Sukuna grumbles but ultimately glides a few inches backwards, hockey stick at the ready. Gojo follows with a smirk.
The commentator announces- “Two players who’ve made the headlines for their explosive rivalry- Ryomen Sukuna, the strongest center in history, and Gojo Satoru, the hotshot who stole that title from straight under his nose—hah! I can hear the fan clubs already. Though, that’s not to say our King of the Rink will be giving it up that easily. We’re in for a reeeeal treat tonight, ladies and gentlemen!”
“Okay- King, welcome back for another season.” Yaga then turns to the white-haired man. “Gojo, welcome to the NHL. Set.”
Gojo smiles, he hopes you’re watching this. Nothing matters if you’re not watching.
“Oh—our Prince of the Ice is smiling. Can it be that he’s confident in his win already?”
“Yeah- welcome, bastard.” Sukuna bites out, his stick blade digging into the designated area on the spot. “Enjoy yer first game here- and your last. By the end of it yer gonna be crying in your gal’s arms.”
“But Ryomen Sukuna is one of the most feared players in the league for a reason- just look at those muscles!”
One white brow raises, “You think I’d lose against you?” Eyes locked on Yaga once he presents the puck and readies himself.
“This is a moment in NHL history, ladies and gentlemen.”
“I know it.”
“Gojo and Sukuna-”
“Nah, I’d win.”
“-who to choose?!”
The Prince and the King.
Both prodigies.
The puck is dropped and it’s a mad dash—the clap of hockey sticks like a most satisfying lightning strike, and that circular slab of black is being swung past the neutral zone and into Gojo’s side.
“Sukuna gets the puck! Such a tight turn and attack straight to the net- the Tokyo Free Blades aren’t letting him get far—oh, what a steal.”
Gojo’s speeding past to let his first defense line sweep him back the puck- Sukuna’s racing past to take it back from him.
And the game commences.
“This is going to be a tight game, ladies and gentleman”
In the first twenty minutes, it’s one point for the Tokyo Free Blades.
One point for the Heian Hawks.
Considering the intensity of each team’s defense, you weren’t surprised that it was off to a fierce yet slow start. Gojo was holding back, testing out the playing field, and Sukuna was a lot more used to this stadium. This league. It was making the other captain sweat.
But with your cheers, you could see a faint smile on Gojo’s face as he started the second twenty minutes.
Your boyfriend was using his famous body fake technique to gain two more points-
One point for the Tokyo Free Blades.
One point for the Tokyo Free Blades.
One point for the Heian Hawks.
One point for the Tokyo Free Blades.
One point for the Tokyo Free Blades.
Everyone was on their feet. Whether out of exhilaration or out of desperation for their team—and you were one of them. During the second break Gojo, of course, skidded down the side of the rink during his break to spend it blowing kisses at you through the plexiglass - before his coach arrived to drag him away.
And so caught up in your embarrassment at his display, you didn’t see the way he shot a smug look at Sukuna. The other man glowering from his own side of the bench.
He was never one to be left behind.
The final twenty minutes started off with the pink-haired tyrant using his signature aggressive playstyle to get nothing more than three more points back-to-back. Making the commentator cry out at the hat trick and the audience get onto their feet now.
One point for the Heian Hawks.
One point for the Heian Hawks.
One point for the Heian Hawks.
The score was quickly five to five - one of the greatest plays that the NHL had recently seen. And Sukuna was basking in it.
Basking.
He was skating down the sides of the stands at a rapid pace, showing off for the audience- showing off for you—Sukuna reaches where you were seated and bangs the shaft of his hockey stick against the plexiglass. THUD-THUD-THUD—! You startle while the fans around you jump up and cheer-
And he’s looking right down at you. Smirking through the cage of his helmet…
Until Gojo’s skating by him and rams Sukuna against the plexiglass with his own body. The two of their muscular figures colliding. Sukuna’s turning to Gojo with a snarl. Gojo’s raising his fist up high and aimed.
It’s a fight that Yaga has to break up.
The timer rings.
.
.
.
“—can’t believe I had to take the win with a fucking shootout.” Gojo speaks in his aggravated tone, hissing once you press the ice-pack to the cut above his eyebrow.
This wouldn’t have been considered worse for wear had it been any other player, but this was the Prince of the Ice. You could already envision the headlines that would flood your timeline tomorrow. The hat trick. The smile. The fist fight.
“But you won, Toru.” Once the game had ended in a tie, there was no choice but to start an overtime period. A fight to the death, more like. It lasted less than five minutes and ended up with Gojo scoring first out of pure fury and adrenaline.
Though that in itself was a tight match, the game had finally ended: 6—5.
The Tokyo Free Blades had won.
Barely. And if you asked Gojo Satoru, a bare win was worse than a fair loss.
Which is why you were cooped up with him in the team’s locker room even after the rest of the players had filtered out. The coaches knew you well enough by this point that you’d gained access easily, and you knew Gojo well enough to know that he was taking this match to heat. Especially as captain.
And here you were pressing an ice-pack to the numerous cuts and bruises he’d acquired during his tussle with Sukuna. “I thought you did really well, baby.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. But-”
“Oh, come on—”
“But having you with me during an NHL game and I it ends up like this-”
“Toru, you’re the hardest on yourself.” Huffing, you push back on his damp white bangs. “I loved your playing today and I know everyone else did, too.”
“Yes, but I made the team go into overtime-” Gojo cries out once more.
“Which happens fairly often!”
Throwing his hands up in exasperation, “Yes, but that damned Ryomen Sukuna- fuck! How I wish I could have used more backhands against him- or body checks- or cycling- or even just slammed my hockey stick into his ugly fucking-”
“Satoru.” You interrupt him, and your boyfriend looks up at you immediately.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Underneath the glowy white light of the locker room, you can’t help but think that Gojo looks so pretty like this.
There was a reason that he was the hockey player with the most fanfiction written of him (you knew, you’d checked). He was still in his deeeep blue uniform from earlier, not having had the heart to take them off just yet. It was slightly loose as it should be, but did nothing to hide Gojo’s firm shoulders, his broad chest, his strong arms. Matching the shade of his teary eyes, slightly reddened around the edges in a way that made him look so delicate. He flutters his long lashes up at you and subconsciously pouts. You’re noticing just then that he had a fresh bruise on his lower lip, making them look even more plump.
Gojo looked almost ethereal.
Head slightly sweaty. Body slightly blushing. His fingers still jittery with adrenaline.
Pouting. Pretty.
Though it didn’t matter because to him—you would always be the most beautiful.
Gojo whimpers at the slight sting of pain once you kiss his poor, injured lips. “Fuh-fuck, sweetheart…mm.” And it was almost impressive how you had a 6’4 mountain of muscle and power as nothing but putty in your hands.
He melts.
“My girl?”
“Mhm, Toru?” You’re cooing down at him- chuckling at the way he chases your lips once you slightly pull away. It doesn’t matter if it hurts…he just needed you.
“Can you make me feel better?”
“Of course, Toru.”
In mere moments you’re being slammed up against the locker with your cunt against the smooth metal and Gojo’s hot erection inside your cunt. His fat cockhead probin’ between your pussylips and pushing against every tiny nook and cranny.
Just so thiiiiick and flared wide open that it makes your mouth water. Your legs limp.
You fucking loved when Gojo got like this - just after one of his games when he’s so high on the adrenaline that his furious erection just won’t seem to go down.
And of course - of fucking course - the only possible solution to that would be to shove you against the nearest flat surface he can find. To press you down with his hefty weight so that you can’t squirm your hips away. To hold you against this still-sweaty body as he pummels his thick inches inside you. To fuck you so hard and needy that even the lockers echo out their sounds in sultry synchronization with you.
Slam-slam-slam—
In and out, in and out, in and out—
“F—ngh, fuck.” He whispers, all hot and breathy against the back of your neck. It makes you slightly flinch at the sensation and Gojo’s pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your nape- then digging his teeth in to almost draaaag you back to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- m’feeling better already, sweetheart.”
“Thank goodness, because you’re making me feel all- oh.” Just then his mushroomy tip swabs against your g-spot and you can’t stop your moan. “Shit, right there, Toru.”
Gojo’s panted chuckle breezes down your spine, “You could say I really, mm, hit the goal- hm?”
“Sh-shut up.”
Before you’re arching right at Gojo’s sculptured core - he still had his blue ice hockey jersey on, and so did you. One of his that he’d given you, in fact.
Though he was holding his jersey up with one hand so that your restless body could sliiiiide down each sensual curve and ridge of his abs. He knew how much you liked that.
He could feel just how much wetter you got whenever you felt Gojo’s white happy trail scrape up against your cunt. Your outer pussy was just rubbed raw on the slammin’ of his base and now there was this—he pulls the hemline of his jersey up to his mouth and bites down on it. Keeping it permanently held up as the captain ruts and ruts against you even harder now.
Deeeeeeep, plunging strokes that leave wet thwacks! against the back of your cunt.
The hockey player’s reddish globular tip pushes against your sweetest spots a few more times, and each time he’s counting- “That’s one.”
“Wh-what do you…”
Hitting that exact spot once more like a target- wetness seeps from your cunt and sticks your thighs together with a wet sheen. Shit, it was just too cute how he had that mind of yours muddled with only a few strokes. “Two- three—” Each one accompanied by the most vicious mwah against your throbbin’ bundles of nerves.
“Why are you- hck! counting, baby?” You sniffle out.
So damn gone on his thickened, veiny length that he’s forced to (well, more like glad to) hook two rugged palms underneath your thighs and lift you up. He’s supporting your body a proper inch off of the tiled floor, jerking you up even higher every time his aching hot cock was swabbin’ away into you- “Three. That’s a hat trick.”
You blink tearily over your shoulder, not quite sure you heard him right. “A…a what?”
“A hat trick.” All three of those words were followed by three more pushing probes against your g-spot- “And look at thaaaat- that’s another hat trick.” Cutely peckin’ away his swollen cockhead again. And again. And again and- “That’s four. Five. Six. Seven-”
“Pleeeeeease—” The only thing you can do is grab onto the jutted handles of the lockers for dear life. Back arched. Toes curling.
Those bulbous wet tears welling up by the sides of your eyes are so damn cute that all he wants to do is kiss them away. “Not ‘please’, heh- what you mean to say is thank you.”
“Th-thank you.” Babbling out with no difficulty.
And that makes even Gojo raise one pale brow, his rosy lips curling at the edges. “Fucked dumb already? Mmm, you really liked today’s game, huh? So good f’me.” With a raspy titter he slides a hand down the middle of your spine and gives your right ass cheek a goooood spank. “Then can you say thank you very muuuuuch, Toru—?”
“Thank you very- hck! much-” Mouth moving before your mind, he’s planting down yet another smack before you can finish your sentence. “-Toru!”
The focused captain nearly doesn’t wait until bossing you around again. “Theeeeen, how about can you say that Gojo Satoru, my handsome- ngh, boyfriend, is the best ice hockey player in history?”
Your mind was almost dizzy at the length of that sentence- “Satoru- ngh, fuck.”
“Nuh-uhhhh—” His needy pitch echoes out, planting a few more mean thrashes against your g-spot to leave you even more stupid. Hat trick. So slick with your glazy syrup that it’s easy to follow that route to reach your delicate spots. “It’s- Gojo Satoru, my handsome boyfriend, is the best-”
“Begging yer girl to say that shit because you know it’s not true?”
A voice that decidedly didn’t sound like either yours or your boyfriend’s.
It was too gruff, too mocking, too…predatory. Something in it that makes goosebumps erupt down the line of your spine and for you to snap your head immediately to the side- despite no one being in the locker room, you two had still chosen a slightly private corner of the mazing lockers. Somewhere no one would be able to see.
You just didn’t think that Ryomen Sukuna of all people would come looking for you.
He stood inside the sex-saturated room with his arms crossed, beefy biceps bulging through his red jersey. Head cocked. Expression smug. Tall enough that the tips of his pink hair touched the ceiling. Like Gojo, Sukuna hadn’t changed much out of his uniform- he was still sporting his red jersey and a slightly bloody nose to match.
Something you didn’t realize could be so attractive-
Dried around where his lips curled up into a smirk so smug.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t find Ryomen Sukuna attractive - anyone with able vision or ears would be able to. He was strong. He was cocky. He was the type to glide through the rink as if he owned it- and just today he’d stopped and signalled at you—
And then there was the matter of his tattoos.
Thick inky rings at his wrists and his biceps, some more peeking out of his uniform. They always did give him an aura of authority.
Even now, he stood inside the traitorous room as though he owned it.
Stealthily, he’d opened up the door and crept inside the rival team’s locker room- or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d been deafeningly loud and you two just hadn’t noticed.
Being so caught up-
Sukuna’s crimson gaze glides down the curvature of your spine and to where your pussy was just drippin’ all over the other man. Creating a slimy sheen down Gojo’s pistoning cock and all the way down his muscular thighs.
It smacks n’ splatters all over the globes of your ass because the white-haired man just wouldn’t stop-
“Why the fuck are you here? Spying on us because you can’t get any?” Gojo scoffs, not even slowing down- in fact, by the way you could feel his thick throbbing tip at your throat, you think he might just be speeding up—
“Fuuuuuck, Toru-”
“Shhhh shh shh, sweetheart.” One of Gojo’s hands lifts from your thighs and ends up clapping over your mouth. He feels your gaped maw splosh out in saliva and presses against your face even harder- “Wouldn’t wanna let that mean ol’ pervert hear any of your pretty noises, right?”
“Who the fuck are ya calling old-” Sukuna growls.
“I-I…” And you’re torn between looking behind at your boyfriend, and sideways at the pink-haired intruder. Both just making your cunt throb even harder.
“Hear that?” Sukuna snickers out of his toned chest, “Heh- yer pretty girlfriend doesn’t even know where to look.”
“Probably wanting to look anywhere but at your ugly ass-”
“Probably looking for an escape.” The taller man looms even closer, casting a shadow over your sweaty connected bodies. Your cunt quivers and he eyes you greedily as though he knew- “Rutting into her like that? Honestly- if ya won a match then fuck her like it.”
Gojo opens his mouth, “I won’t take advice from a sore loser.”
“Then take advice from me as a man.” Before Sukuna’s diverting his gaze down to where you were looking up at him with widened eyes. He softens his tone just for you, he leans down to speak just to you—grinning. “Your pussy wants me bad, doesn’t she, mama?”
“Don’t you fucking talk to her-”
Gojo tightens his palm atop your loosened mouth- and the only thing that does is smear the wads of saliva leaking out of you. Because you’re clenching your gummy walls so hard that he can’t help but give an animalistic jolt-
“She jus’ squeezed that pussy tight, didn’t she?” The hockey captain asks, and he doesn’t need to wait for the answer - he could already see it in Gojo’s dazed eyes. His parted lips. His aching cock. Sukuna’s own aching erection that he reaches a hand down to palm over his shorts, “Mmm, I can already imagine- fuck…what a shame she’s wasted on a bastard like you.”
Any and all haziness leaves Gojo’s peripherals instantly as he whips them over at the other man. “Uh-huh? And you really think you’re any better?” He’s inadvertently jostling the two of you even closer to him.
“Fucker, I know I’m better.” Sukuna steps closer.
And you’re not sure how but you find yourself practically sandwiched between them - Gojo’s pecs pushing up against you from behind, his lengthy shaft drilling into you like a madman. Sukuna’s against your front - pressing against you with his muscular core, and his erection throbbing obviously between his legs. You were pulled away from the locker that was your lifeline and could barely even breathe like this-
Gojo humps his roverin’ tip into you from behind and scowls, “I’d say prove it but my girl doesn’t deserve to be put through that.”
“You’d say prove it but you’re scared I’d steal your girl.” Sukuna was cornering you both now. The positions had somehow flipped so that Gojo was starting to have his back against the locker now, Sukuna looming in. You between them. Being compressed. Being fucked stupid still-
He hisses at the frigidness of the metal, “In your dreams-”
“Oh yeah?” Sukuna seethes, “Watch me.”
And then Sukuna’s snaggin’ away your panties- yes, you still had your panties on. Light blue just like your boyfriend’s eyes because you knew how ruined he was for that - and as soon as Sukuna’s registering the fact, he’s grazing his nail against the cloth and riiiiiiipping it straight off of your wet cunt.
Nose crinkling in amusement as he throws it to the side-
“Oi-” Gojo snaps from behind, “I bought those limited edition for her, y’know-”
“And next time I’ll buy her ones in red.”
“You wish you could afford that shit-”
And it’s the last thing you’re hearing before Sukuna’s pressing one of his thickened fingertips right between your pussylips. His roughened crown pries apart your folds—sluuuurp, and you were just so damn damp that it trickles down his tattooed wrist.
Glistening against the ring of ink on his skin- Sukuna’s openin’ you up like some cute birthday present. Spreading apart your thick pussylips. Probin’ just the knobbled edges of his digits against your entrance—maybe because of his rumored rough training, but Ryomen Sukuna’s hands were much more calloused than Gojo’s. Much thicker. Much meaner.
He takes a goooood look down at your hole and chuckles- “Pull out and pull her legs up.”
At that, Gojo falters his sloppy pace. “Wh-what?” You could hear the surprise in his voice.
“Did I fuckin’ stutter?” Rolling his crimson eyes, the man sighs. How troublesome. “I said- pull out and pull her legs up. Lemme get a taste of that pussy.”
“Over my dead body.”
Sukuna looks over at you with a smirk, “Cover your eyes, mama- there’s about to be a murder.”
The only thing you can do is let your eyes follow their argument like a tennis match- or a hockey match. Mouth babbling uncontrollably by this point, “Please-”
Your boyfriend’s cooing down at you immediately, “Yeeees, my sweetheart?”
“Yeeeeeees, my sweetheart~?” Sukuna mocks.
“Jealous?”
“Over my dead body.”
Jealousy, surely. And Gojo knows it, too- which is why he’s kissing your throat in front of the man. Lips spreading across your skin in such a sultry way. “Then what do you say, my girl? Wanna- mmm, let this ol’ pervert have a taste of you? After I’ve been inside you?”
“Wanna feel-” You’re gurgling out, “Wanna feel you both-”
“Hmm, fine.” Gojo answers, “But this pussy’s too nice.”
The white-haired man echoes out in a scorching breath, slight possessiveness seeping into the way he gives your gooey cervix a final ram before pulling out—no, wait. He’s not going to make it that easy on his rival.
Without a single warning, Gojo’s coating your dewy walls in a thick layer of his seed.
Gojo’s cumming.
Almost timed, almost perfectly on schedule, almost making the other man’s knees buckle as he sees the frothy white residue seeping out of your hole. There’s so much of it, and he can feel his balls emptying out even more with each pump. Fucking the clingy wads back in a few times- really messing up the slick surface of your channel with his cum. Cumming harder than he thinks he has in his entire life-
And you’re throwing your head back against his collarbone with a moan, “O-oh my god, Toru. It feels so good.”
“Hear that?” He chuckles at Sukuna, who couldn’t take his eyes off of the way Gojo’s slick shaft kept slippin’ in and out of your cunt. Glistening n’ glossy with so many layers.
He gulps.
Seeing the state the pink-haired captain was in, Gojo leans down and whispers something in your ear—
“O-on your knees, Kuna.” You’re repeating with a slight whimper, still slightly dizzy at the flood of ivory sap being poured inside you. And he didn’t tell you to add on that little nickname but ah well- it was worth it to see Ryomen Sukuna, King of the Rink, fall to his very knees before you.
To have Gojo Satoru pull his massive cock out of you with the loudest, most lecherous sluuuuurp!
You’re twitching at the sheer sensitivity- feeling the spray of cum gush out of you so intensely that you almost want to close your legs. But your boyfriend holds them wiiiiide open with two arms being hooked underneath your knees.
He lifts you cleanly off of the ground-
Your knees up to your tits. Your ass being smacked by his toned v-line.
A standing full nelson.
There’s a ribbony wire of cum that slips out of your hole and ends up slide-slide-sliding all over your pussy. Gojo’s cock still hot and red between your legs. He snickers down at the kneeling man, “Eat that.”
Sukuna doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He doesn’t care that your pussy’s all covered in him—he doesn’t care that you’re just so stimulated and gone after this round that all you need is his flattened tastebuds on you to shatter into your orgasm.
Sukuna’s mouth guffawing out darkly as he feels you clench ‘round and ‘round his tongue- “Heh, would ya look at thaaaat?” Looking up at the two of you through his pink lashes, “Cummin’ on my tongue the moment I put it on her- this pussy reeeally likes me, doesn’t she?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Gojo rolls his eyes.
“Sure thing, two-pump chump.”
And whatever Gojo’s saying next - you don’t hear. Because just then he’s movin’ apart your folds with his mouth and shovelling the entirety of his tongue inside.
Push after push.
Probe after probe,
Pointed chin slapping your cunt. His honed canines grazing your folds. Drilling into you like a man starved throughout your orgasm- he’s pressing both palms up against your thighs and pushing them even higher to get to your sweetened core. Smacking at the miry ribbons of white that were webbing up your insides.
And you don’t know whether it’s the sheer stretch or the intensity of your bliss, but you find yourself sobbing maddeningly. “Oh- oh my god.” Bucking. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t plan to.” He chuckles wetly, a line of cum dribbling down his mouth. The slashes of his tongue somehow precisely pinpointing each peak of your high. Elongating that feeling inside of you until it felt like your veins were bubbling up- “Because she’s my pussy now, huh?”
You gasp, “I-I mean-”
“Says who?” Gojo growls out from above.
Pressing his rock-hard erection back between your pussylips as if to remind you just who was holding you up. And the audacity of Ryomen Sukuna—he’s merely leaning down and spitting a glittery wad across your slit.
It ends up dolloping straight down onto Gojo’s cock, as well.
The white-haired man shivers-
“Says me.”
Before Sukuna’s back to pressing one hot kiss on top of your cunt, two hot kisses, three. They were all open-mouthed and lavish—slidin’ his tongue furiously in and out of your hole. In and out. In and out. “Fuckin’ her all this time and you couldn’t even make ‘er cum.”The vibrations of Sukuna’s deep baritone sends jolts of pleasure up your spine, “Fuckin’ her all this time and I bet you’ve never made her feel this good-”
Gojo reaches up to grab at your throat with one hand, still holding you up. “S’that true, sweetheart?”
“I-I like bo—fuck.”
But then both men are rendering you speechless - Sukuna with his tongue slappin’ into the tender ridges of your walls, Gojo craning his long fingers down to press on your clit. Anything so that neither of them would have to hear how you wanted them both.
Pick one but not both.
And they’re both trying to be that one- Gojo flicking your throbbing clit with ease, Sukuna shoved between your legs and lappin’ at your every treacly dewdrop with his tongue.
It was so different from the way your boyfriend would eat you out - while Gojo was slow and sensual and loving—handing you anything and everything you could ever want with his tongue - Sukuna was the complete opposite. He was rough. He was teasing.
He was grippin’ onto both of your thighs and draaaagging you back once you attempted to bounce your hips away. With his nails digging into the sides of your flesh, he was eating you out until you couldn’t breathe-
Just sharp, rapid pumps inside your hole with his slicked tastebuds. Draggin’ his teeth on your folds. Slurping up the pearly white dewdrops of sap. And whenever you clenched like it just felt so good- he’d reel his sloppy tongue back and slap it over your clit instead.
Never letting you feel too good, never growing tired of those cutely disappointed huffs n’ puffs you’d let out.
“Oi oi-” Sukuna’s tongue slides over Gojo’s fingers, both tugging and grinding on top of your clit. “Yer in my zone, Gojo Satoru.”
“You’re in my girl’s pussy, Ryomen Sukuna.” He’s biting back. Jaw dropping slightly open at the sheer pace at which Sukuna would thrust into your sopping wet hole- uncaring whether you were stretched out enough to take his sheer circumference because Sukuna was going to make you take it either way.
“Haaaah? Thought we went over this shit already- this is my girl’s pussy from now on. My pussy.”
“You call her that when I’m the one that’s cum inside her?”
“Yeah, but who made her cum?”
You hitch out, “You’re both so s-stupid-”
And the bickering is starting up one more - though unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for you, the more they argue, the harder they’re going on your cunt. Rubbin’ their lips and fingers raw—“Got a problem with that?”
Gojo pipes up, “She never answered the-”
“Aht aht-” Sukuna interrupts the blue-eyed man, just too fun to watch him fume like this. And instead of paying him any attention, the King stares right down at your pussy. “Got a problem with that?”
He wasn’t talking to Gojo. He wasn’t even talking to you-
He was talking to your greedy pussy and waitin’ until she answered- opening his mouth to let his tongue spread your lips wide open and draaaaag down your velvety walls.
Inevitably, you’re just so wet by this point that you can’t help but splash out in your juices- and it creates the filthiest squelching noise that Sukuna grins at. “See? She doesn’t mind.”
“You fucking-”
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Before the sultriest, most mind-numbing stretch opens up your pussy. And you snap your head down on carnal instinct to find that Sukuna was kneeled between your legs and fingering your pussy open.
Ruthlessly with not one, not two, but three of his thick fingers- they were just so large that it took him a few half-thrusts to even fit the first few inches inside. Those roughened crowns of his mazing like spotlights searching for your every sweet spot, “Oh my god, it feels so good, Kuna-”
“Oh yeah? What a coincidence, yer- I mean my pussy’s saying the same thing, mama.” He then looks up at your boyfriend as if to say—your move.
Gojo Satoru rolls his eyes.
And he’s then pushing Sukuna’s head back to fully take over your clit for himself.
“Fuck off.”
Sukuna’s pink brows furrow and he grimaces. “Watch it, fucker. I have a Calvin Klein ambassadorship-”
“He talks big but he doesn’t know this pussy as well as I do, huh?” Though Gojo doesn’t listen to a word he says - doesn’t have to. He’s rolling the edge of his thumb along your clit in quick clockwise circles, and then stopping every then and now to repeat the motion anti-clockwise. “All that chit-chat, but really…she’s still my pussy, isn’t she?”
You hiccup, “I-I just don’t understand why she can’t be both-”
“No.”
“Nuh-uh.” Gojo affirms along with Sukuna. Breathy laughter echoing against your right ear in a way that almost felt crazed—“Guess I hafta remind it to you then, huh, my girl?”
“Ohhhh, he’s slurring, mama.” Sukuna titters.
“I’m realizing…” You breathe out.
Maybe the two of you had broken Gojo Satoru.
Maybe the two of you had made Gojo Satoru snap-
In no time he’s jerking you further up in this position and absolutely shattering you with the movements of his nimble fingertips. Gojo always did have the prettiest hands you’ve ever seen, the prettiest palms, the prettiest digits that had countless edits dedicated to them on social media.
And they were just so looooong and flexible- tuggin’ on your throbbing knob a few times before drawing patterns. Not just any patterns - but something swirling and swipin’ that makes your eyes roll all the way to the back of your skull.
He was curving the soft crown of his fingerpad against your clit- making a curving shape that makes you buck.
“And what does that say?”
“Wh-what?” You gasp out stupidly to the man above you, his voice eerily calm.
“I said…” A few more twists n’ turns of his fingers on top of your clit that make you tremble with pleasure. “-what does that say, sweetheart?”
Hell, even Sukuna has to look up at the tone of Gojo’s voice. Something about it so…either way it’s making the pink-haired man flicker his gaze up n’ down your cunt and chuckle. “Not bad, you sick fuck. Not bad.”
And you’ve never been more confused- “I don’t know what you mean-”
“I said-” It’s only then that you’re feeling it, feeling the sensation of Gojo’s doughy fingertips pinch your swollen clit. Letting the sting seep into your nerves for just a bit before he’s resuming that same swipin’ motion. “-what does it say on this pussy?”
It’s only then that you’re realizing he’s spelling something out on your cunt.
“Man, she’s too fucked stupid on my tongue to realize-”
“In your dreams.”
“Shit, is it…” Your dazed pupils seem to be following in the same motion, being held to him with absolutely no mercy. And, somehow, you manage to be mapping out the swivelling of his fingers. “Is it an ‘S’—?”
“‘S’ for Sukuna.” The pink-haired captain titters out.
Before Gojo’s immediately spanking down on your pussy for no reason- “And this one? What about this one, my girl?”
“Shit, shit shit, shiiiit—” You could feel the oncoming tidal wave of your high - already so close with both men stimulating you so much that it almost hurt. “Is that one- hck!” If you weren’t mistaken, this current one was something…pointier than the last curving letter. “Is it an ‘A’?”
“Good girl.”
“Aw, shit-” Sukuna gruffs out between your pussylips, “I can’t let my pussy go that easily, can I?”
Increasing the incredible zaps of electricity that were running straight from your core, Sukuna had another swivellin’ fingertip of his pressing inside. Four—and they were just so big that you swear you could feel your mind start blanking out.
Pushing and pushing.
Shovelling his hot tips against the sweetest of your spots, it’s almost as if he was providin’ his fingers inside with the aim to bruise-
“And how many fingers s’that?” Sukuna leers up at both you and Gojo, a challenging smile upon his handsome face. “Count f’me, girlie.”
“Be original.” Gojo scoffs.
“Be better.”
“Not when you’ve got my cum on your face.”
Sukuna isn’t even sure what to say to that, merely stuffin’ his face into the froth of white and transparent juices pourin’ out of you.
“Fuh-four.” Almost feeling embarrassed by how much your words were tangling n’ mingling into one- but that’s if you were in any better state of mind. Right now it felt like you could barely even string a coherent thought together let alone a sentence. “Four fingers?”
Sukuna smiles against your tender folds, “Aaaaatta girl.” Pulling back and this time pushing in a different number of digits. “And how many now?”
“Three?” You cry out.
“We’re not done here, sweetheart.” Thrown by the way that Gojo was rasping into your ear, “Don’t let has-beens distract you- what letter?”
“It’s a ‘T’—?”
“What number, mama?”
“Two.”
“Letter?”
“Oh—” Feeling your legs start to twitch the way they did whenever you were close, “It’s ‘O’-”
“Number-”
You’re arching against them, “Four-”
“Letter-”
Bucking your body, “‘R’—”
“Lett-”
“Number-”
“Letter.”
“Fuck- number.”
“Fuck off- letter.”
“S’my pussy and I want to ask-”
“No, it’s my pussy and-”
But only you could cut through one of their infamous arguments with ease- “Satoru.” Bringing back both men’s attention onto you and you entirely. Your back arches against Gojo’s front until his smooth pectorals were providing you with cushioning for his rough fingers. “Y-your letters are spelling out- ngh, ‘Satoru’ on my pussy.” And then you’re staring down at the pink-haired man, “And Sukuna- you’ve now got four fingers inside me.”
He smirks, “Atta girl- correct.”
“You did well, sweetheart.”
And their sweet whispers are all you hear before you’re shattering into your second- third- perhaps even fourth orgasm of the night. Something that lasts so loooooong and blissful that it leaves your body utterly limp in Gojo’s arms.
Sukuna plops his fingers and mouth down on your cunt and fucks you through each incredible high, the mountains of it unfurling over you. His globular fingertips pressin’ into the tiniest crevices inside and marking himself out. Meanwhile Gojo was spelling his name again and again and agaaaain on top of your swollen pussy.
Until it was a pattern that you think might have permanently embedded into your very veins with how frenzied your boyfriend was marking it out. Gojo crushes you to his toned front and whispers- “Cum f’me, my girl.” Scalding hot pants against your ear, “Yes- yes, cum f’me.”
He ruts his aching cock against your behind and you whine-
“Cum f’me so good.”
And Sukuna himself looks as though he wanted to say something as he dragged out the tremors across your body- but he was far too busy with his lips glued to your pussylips. Lappin’ up every ounce of slick and cum- “Mmm, just you wait, mama.”
They don’t stop until your massive wave of bliss has well and fully bated - until it’s nothing more than a few tingles that shoot sparks up your spine.
But then…they don’t stop even then.
Sukuna has his lips plastered to your clit by now, his fingers smeared down your walls—and he didn’t give a fuck what the other man had to say about it. Because Gojo himself had his arms around you tightly, hips just lightly pushing and pulling. Reeling and rutting.
Gojo’s plush cockhead was swervin’ between your legs and sliiiiiding up the slit of your pussy-
“Oi-” Sukuna’s grunting as the other man’s smooth velvety length grazes his lips, “Watch it. M’trying to eat out my girl’s pussy.”
“Then shut up and move.” Gojo gruffs out, teeth grit. He hits his hips against you with a smack! “Or don’t- I don’t fucking care.”
“That’s gay as hell.”
“Bi.”
“Bye to you, too.” Sukuna’s rolling his rouge eyes. He’s just about to open his mouth once more with something snarky, when he realizes that oh…Gojo was actually fucking serious.
He was actually attempting desperately to pummel his hips into you. He was actually holding you up with only one of his beefy arms for a brief moment, guiding his thickened tip to smooch up against your hole and puuuushing—
Cumming.
Pouring out hot loads of seed in a gloss.
“And who said you could fuck my girl’s pussy?” Immediately, he’s on his two feet and shrugging down his shorts- dampened with precum by now. Thoroughly. It’s then that you’re getting the first proper look at the Ryomen Sukuna’s cock.
Where Gojo was longer and prettier- Sukuna was just thiiiick and covered in so many veins that it made you already anticipate him being inside you. It was almost dizzying the sheer amount there was. Unruly pink happy trail. Heavily tightened balls. He was the most sensual tannish pink at the very top of his shaft, graduating down to a darker shade at his base. And his base—oh.
“You seriously got tattooed there?” Gojo’s the first to voice his thoughts out loud. One of his pale brows raising at the ring of inky black ‘round Sukuna’s hilt. “Sick fuck.”
You yourself gulp at the sight, “Did that hurt, Kuna?”
“Who cares if it-”
“Nah.” Sukuna replies, “No pain, no gain- right, mama?”
“I-I suppose…” Nodding was all that you could do - Gojo was furiously smearin’ apart your pussylips and trying to rut inside.
“And what exactly would my girl be gaining, huh?” The white-haired captain is the one to ask.
“Isn’t that obvious?” His tone certainly made it out to be, and the King was looming even closer with his throbbing erection. Just like Gojo, he looked so hard that it almost looked painful- almost looked as though he was begging n’ bursting to be inside your tight hole. Sukuna’s caging the two of you against the lockers, “She’s gaining both of us.”
Your eyes widen, “Both-”
“Inside.”
Gojo perks up, “At once.”
Both. Inside. At once.
You weren’t walking out of this locker room.
At all.
Sukuna inches ever-so-slightly closer. One hand placed outright against the locker room- and you honestly have to stop yourself from ogling his bulging biceps. The other wrapped around his meaty hilt and pressin’ up against your hole-
“If s’both at once then you better put them in at the- mm, same time.” Gojo mutters.
“Tch-” But Sukuna doesn’t deny him - and before you know it, he has his rugged hand wrapped around both their cocks. Gojo’s face wincing with a hiss at the slight sensation, he dribbles out in even more cum that gets smeaaaared down your wet crevice. “And that last round- we didn’t end up deciding whose pussy this was, huh?”
“No…” Gojo’s clenching his teeth, straining his head to look down at the heavenly sight below. Sukuna was teasin’ your flooded orifice, getting you used to the feeling of them both.
“Then how about…”
“-we let this pussy decide.”
“Mmm, heh-” Sukuna smirks, “-time for the overtime.”
And they might have been the fiercest of rivals on the ice—but here? Gojo and Sukuna were in perfect synchronization when they’re tuggin’ their cocks to your cunt and emptying out.
Fucking you at the same time.
“Eeeeeasy now, mama- s’gonna be a snug fit.” Sukuna’s forehead starts to bead with sweat, “You should know that they say my cock’s so big it’s as if they were- hah, two.”
“Two inches, maybe.”
“What were you saying, two-pump chump?”
It was such a tight fit.
“Ngh—fuck.” Sukuna spits out through his pearly white canines, nose crinkling at the sensation of your walls rubbing against him and him rubbing against Gojo. “You’ve got me, mama.”
“Fuh-fuuuuuck, sweetheart-” Meanwhile Gojo was damn near drooling- he was trembling, he was spurtin’ out his precum. He was holding onto you for what felt like dear life as he’s rutting- “It feels so good, what the fuck- what the fuuuck.”
“Yer welcome.” Sukuna chuckles, though you could see the burning blush formulating on his ears.
“Not you-”
He throbs, “Nah, tha’s definitely me.”
And you can’t help but cling onto both of them- “Toru—Kuna- you’re both inside- fuck.” One of your hands grabbing into Sukuna’s toned deltoids, while the other was scrambling to grab onto Gojo’s pure white hair. Honestly, you didn’t even need the balance at this point - they were the ones holding you up. Gojo’s strong arms holding you up in a full nelson, Sukuna’s ones latched onto either side of your hips to keep from running. “And you’re both just so big- I don’t know if it’ll even f-”
“Don’t say that it won’t fit, sweetheart.”
You’re turning back to Gojo, “Why- oh.”
Because your boyfriend’s voice sounded octaves higher than usual. It sounded breathier. It sounded more unsteady.
You don’t think you’ve heard him sound like this in your entire life.
And you’re just looking behind to check up on him and- fuck. Gojo Satoru was already pussydrunk - you could tell by the bleary look in his eyes. He was shivering. He was letting his pinkish lips fall further and further open every time he’s plunging in a solid few pumps-
“Oi oi-” Sukuna gnaws down on the insides of his cheek to keep from any strange noises like…whimpers from seeping into his tone. “-I thought we were fuckin’ her together?”
“Oh—huh?” Blue eyes looking between the two of you- did he seriously forget that? Was he seriously that gone? And you’re getting your answer the moment that your gluey walls clench—and Gojo’s breath hitches. Body moving before his mind as he ruts-
His eyes blow wide open as if he didn’t even realized what he just did.
He holds into you so tight that neat crescent marks embed into your skin. “Don’t say it won’t fit- please.” Breathy whispers plastering in scorching breezes against the side of your neck, “Don’t say it won’t fit because I need it to- have to.”
“Why’s that, Toru?”
“Yeah-” Sukuna raises his pinkish brows, “Why’s that, Toru?”
“B-because…” Gojo’s handsome cheeks give a slight blush, and he’s averting eye contact with both you and the cocky man that also had his cock stuffed inside you. “-how will make this pussy really mine if I can’t even hit her- ngh, womb?”
Your jaw drops- but Sukuna only lets out a light whistle. “So thaaaat is the master plan, huh?” The other captain himself giving you a solid, aaaaaching thrust- “Hasn’t yer coach ever taught you not to tell yer master plan to the rival team?”
“Why does it matter?” Poor, pussydrunk Gojo Satoru cocks his head. And you almost start to feel sympathy for the way that Sukuna was starting to take your boyfriend as a joke- “You won’t win anyways”
Nevermind.
It doesn’t take long for them to funnels their cocks upwards like fucking animals-
Claiming every single spot inside you. Slidin’ past one another for space- they feel the sensitive spots on their cock press against the other’s and that makes them buck. Molding and massaging and making you sob out on the feeling of two entire cylindrical intrusions keeping you wide open.
Gojo was impatient with his tempo, slashing the most delicate parts of your insides with his lengthy cock. And it certainly didn’t help that the globular end of his shaft was covered in slick and hooooned to reach your deepest depths. Even deeper.
Even deeper than Sukuna, who was spending more time training your entrance to gape out into a pretty lil’ oh—the same way your mouth was. “Just like that, mama.” And listen…he can’t help himself when he leans down and spits straight between your puffy lips. Sticking a thumb between your legs and pryin’ your folds apart. “Would ya look at that…she’s actually starting to take me- I dunno about that other motherfucker-”
“She’s taking me, too.” Gojo scoffs.
“-but I just know this pussy’s gonna love my cock.” Sukuna hums, his great chest rumbling with satisfaction. “She’s gonna have me stuffed all the way against her womb and then beg to be called mine.”
Making you shiver with the drag-drag of the calloused digits holding his base, “Sh-shit-”
Sukuna grins, jerking his hips up. Rapid and ravenous. “And she’s begging to take it all the way until that tattoo at my base-”
“In your dreaaaaams~” The other man’s answer comes before yours, and so does a thorough bang right near your g-spot occur. “She’s all mine. So if you w-want any then come and get it now, Sukuna—oh wait.” Leaning down theatrically, Gojo pretends as though he was hearing something emanating from your pussy. Something riveting. The squelches. “You can’t- because the only one she’s begging for is me.”
“Face-off.”
“Fuck off.”
“Can you two just shut up and fuck me—ngh.” Your tastebuds sizzle in the drenched layer of your own saliva, taking over your mouth in an instant once one of them finally bottoms out.
One of them.
And the problem was that you couldn’t register which one was which- before a second loud wallop tremors at the bottom of your pussy and the other man is bottoming out. Both of them.
Mere split-seconds apart from each other.
Their rotund tips curving against your cervix juuust right until your eyes roll back, hands latching onto their muscular bodies. Toes curling. Teary lashes fluttering. Gojo and Sukuna had you pressed tightly between them as they funnelled all their swollen, greeeeedy inches inside of you.
“So?”
It’s Sukuna who’s speaking- and you can just barely manage to extract yourself from the valley of his pecs. Sometime during their furious cadence, you’d wound up salivating between his toned chest. “S-so?”
Gojo hums, “So what’s the verdict, sweetheart?”
“Verdict?”
Sukuna tuts with one of his usual eye-rolls. “So- who’s first, mama? Who did that slutty pussy of yours want more?”
“O-oh…” Your mouth drops agape, “It was…”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Blinking back the tears in your eyes- “It was…”
“Take your time, my girl.”
“It was-” It’s then and there - mid-moan to one of Gojo’s impatient thrusts - that you decide to come clean to the two men. Sadly looking down—if you were in any clearer a state of mind then maybe you’d have noticed the way both their plummy tips throb even harder when you pout. “I don’t…know…”
“Well…” Gojo looks at Sukuna, and Sukuna looks back.
“Well.”
And there seems to be a silent conversation there that you weren’t privy to.
“We can always fuck her pussy and then ask her.”
“Y’know- sometimes I love the way you think.”
You’re not quite sure which one of the two suggested it, and which one of the two simply agreed - Gojo or Sukuna. Because they’d finally fit inside and now Gojo and Sukuna were pistoning their hips up into you like they were trying to make you forget the other.
Trying to make your mind nothing but a blur.
The pinkish lengths disappearing in and out of you nothing but a blur.
Both of their split-ended cockheads dig into the deepest grooves of your pussy, finding each of your favorite spots as if they were almost magnetized to them. It just felt so good to have them slide across your walls and slide across each other- those veiny lines on their cocks being pressed against the other’s shaft. Bulging out your tight channel like you never could have imagined before. Expectedly, knowing your body for a longer time, Gojo is the first to find your g-spot and preeeeess his flared tip against it.
He smirks down at Sukuna- who didn’t take more than a few more vicious strokes to find it himself. Though he can’t lie the blow it did to his ego— “What was that? Your cute lil’ womb feeling lonely, girlie?” Sukuna’s speaking down at your slurping cunt, “Awww don’t worry, I’ll help you-”
“Tch…” To which the other man was also concentrating a bit more on the route that his length was taking inside your channel. Gojo was hard and sloppy- the cap of dribblin’ pre on his shaft making it so that sometimes he’d barely even graze his tip against your channel until he’s doing it all over again. “Upset you can’t find the g-spot?”
“M’surprised a man like you could even find the clit.” Sukuna’s snarling back, purposefully dipping his thumb up to roll over that sweet nub.
“M’surprised a man like you was even given the chance to fuck her.” Gojo chuckles haughtily.
“Why were you surprised when a man like you was given the chance?”
“At least I won the match-”
“At least I won the girl—my girl.”
Gojo bristles, “You seriously think you won my girl over?”
“If the shoe fits-”
Gojo scoffs- and thankfully it’s the only thing he does. Thankfully he’s ignoring the vengeful temptation within him that’s telling him to just deck Ryomen Sukuna in the face one and for all.
Instead, he’s taking his anger out simply on your cunt. Both ice hockey captains swipin’ their rotund crowns inwards and attempting to fuck the decision out of you.
Faster.
Harder.
Choose me. Choose me. Choose me.
“Sh-shit, how am I ever meant to choose—” You’re gasping through your cascade of tears, legs twitching- and you’re taking it as a sign to mean that your high was nearby. Though how you were expected to orgasm once more with the sheer amount of overstimulation that your body was wracking from, you had absolutely no idea.
And Gojo and Sukuna were fucking you like they didn’t even care about that in the first place.
They had their hands gripping onto your body- almost teamwork. “Don’t tell me that we’re gonna go this long without you even choosing, sweetheart…” Gojo purrs. He was the one holding you open, and Sukuna was the one taking advantage of that to twiddle n’ tug at your clit.
“Yeah- don’t think yer getting out of this any time soon.” Sukuna agrees - agrees with Gojo Satoru for what was likely the first and last time ever in his entire life. You squirm your hips and he’s pinning you down to keep you from moving a single inch—“If ya don’t choose now then we’re gonna have another- hah, round.”
Eyes damn near bulging out of your skull, “A-another round?”
“Another round.” Gojo affirms. His head falling into the crook of your neck, “And another round- and another round- and another round and another round and another-”
“Aaaaaall the way until you finally choose, girlie.” Sukuna chuckles darkly—“Me or him.”
“Me or him.”
“I…I choose—” You start off- and you can feel the way that both Gojo and Sukuna lean in even closer to hear your ultimate decision. Who’s pussy was this? Whose girl were you? They’re slammin’ their hips into yours so hard that the skin of their pelvis grows bright red. “I choose-”
“Yes?” Gojo shoves his cockhead against a particularly sweet spot inside you.
“Mhm?” Sukuna was pressing down haaaard on your clit like the cutest button.
And it’s with great difficulty - and a few more rabid strokes - until you can speak. “I choose…that you both fuck me again.”
Such filthy, filthy words coming out of your pretty mouth-
It’s enough to make both you and Gojo cum again- and for Sukuna to take one lingering look at you two before he himself starts to throb with his high. “Fuh-fucking hell.” Never stuttered in years since his first team tryouts. Never felt so overcome with his orgasm since he first discovered what the hell that was.
They’re both pumping out looong luxurious stripes of their seed.
Your own high was nothing but a mere few trembles by this point—or so you think. That is, until those faint tingles burst into something so intense and white-hot that you see your vision blacken for a few seconds. A strange wetness seeping between your legs.
You wonder just what might have happened- until Sukuna’s low whistle sounds. “Squirting, huh?”
“All because of me-”
“Actually-”
You have to open your eyes and see for yourself- and it’s making you gape at the splashes of squirting sap that escape you. So much so that you start to wonder just where so much of it must’ve fit, so hard that it makes every single double thrust push you through your constant high. “Sh-shit, I did this…”
Again and again.
Only once the most of it has bated and left you unclenching can you focus on taking every single wad that they’re planting inside you. Emptying out their heavy balls. Using both globular cockheads to swipe the dewy droplets inwards.
“Inside, motherfucker.” Sukuna spits out at the other man, guiding his ruby-red tip to swivel inside.
“I already know, you fool.”
“Sh-shit, there’s so much of it.” The mess of it glazes your insides and creates a sort of second skin. Only temporary, however, because every time you were fucked- that sheen would splosh all over again. “I feel so…ngh.”
“Mmm, filled up to the brim?” Sukuna swipes his thick fingertip down your slit and collects the excess of ivory cum dribbling out of you.
Gojo helpfully supplies as well, “Properly stuffed full?”
Sukuna smirks, “Wet like a waterpark?”
“The sweetest treat with a creamy middle?” Gojo was ruttin’ his hips up furiously, properly fucking all three of you throughout your orgasm. Toes curling. Back arching. Even when his own high was starting to peter out now and he was only pumping you full—
“Like yer gonna explode?”
“Heh, like yer gonna end up pregnant-”
You’re throwing your head back with a mewl, clawing onto their muscular bodies- “Please-” Just fucked stupid until both their waves of bliss are fading out. Pouring pumps of wadded cum every time they underwent a peak of bliss, “F-fuck, please-”
“Please?” Sukuna raises one brow down at the way you sob, “Whaddaya mean ‘please’? I distinctly remember a certain indecisive pussy- and you, wanting to go another round n’ really decide? Right, Satoru?”
“Most certainly, Ryomen.” Your boyfriend - that traitor - is fucking agreeing with his rival for one.
When did that even happen—?
But you don’t have the time to think too deeply about it- because in almost no time, they’re pulling out. In the next blink you find your limp body laid flat across one of the large wooden benches in the locker room.
Gojo and Sukuna kneeled between your legs and looking absolutely famished. You could feel their cum pouring out of you triple-fold like this, a slow n’ slick ooze.
“Shit- look at the way she’s leaking.” Gojo nudges Sukuna.
Sukuna smirks back, “Mostly because of me, heh?”
“You fuck-”
“Ahem.” They’re snapping their eyes to you instantly, just so pretty when they kneeled before you like this—they should do it more often. Still twitching from the aftershocks of your high, “And you- ngh, want me here because…?”
“To eat that pretty pussy out, mama- duh.” Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Because no matter what, we belong to you.”
Gojo pipes up, “Just trying to figure out the logistics- I want to taste my girl first, you’ve already had your turn-”
“Eh? Fuck off, I’m eating her out first-”
“You already-”
“Why not both?” It’s become your mantra, of sorts. And you’re leaning back on your elbows against the bench, leads spreadin’ just a bit wider.
The two hockey look players between you and your pussy with widened eyes.
Before you’re reaching out and bringing their heads together to kiss your puckered cunt. Their lips meeting your pussylips. Their lips meeting each others—
A hot, open-mouthed kiss.
Gojo moans.
Sukuna can’t keep the blush off of his ears once his and Gojo’s tongue slide against each other and fight for purchase of your cream-covered cunt-
“Help me decide, boys.”
.
.
.
“Aaaaand we have Gojo Satoru and Ryomen Sukuna coming up to the center to take the opening face-off, ladies and gentlemen.” Different game. Same commentator. “This might just be the most anticipated moment in our play-offs: Tokyo Free Blades vs. Heian Hawks. Gojo Satoru vs. Ryomen Sukuna. The strongest center now vs. the strongest center in history—and which one of them will take the Stanley Cup?”
Gojo and Sukuna were skating up to the face-off circle, their hockey sticks at the ready and their eyes locked on one another.
It had only been a month or two of fooling around until yet another NHL play-off, this time in Shinjuku, had the two men facing each other. And they were ready for it- in fact, they almost seemed excited for it.
Your two boyfriends are lowering into position as the referee arrives to give them a concise speech, and you can’t help but jump up and down with your cheers. Still slightly sore from how hard they went on you. Still covered in marks down your neck and your thighs from both of them. You were in the fan section for the Heian Hawks, despite the Tokyo Free Blade jersey you wore - but at least the banner in your hand announced—Shinjuku Showdown! Go Go Toru and Kuna!
And yet, even then you knew that one of them would find something to whine n’ huff about until you gave them extra coddling. You hope you didn’t write one of their names bigger than the other…
It drew a few stares, predictably.
From fans around you that beamed or from the particularly fervent fan that couldn’t comprehend this betrayal. You just never would have expected that it would draw the attention of the game commentator itself-
“And what’s that? Isn’t that Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend?” To your acute horror and amusement, you’re suddenly seeing yourself splashed across the big screen. “Look here, ladies and gentlemen- Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend with her support for the Heian Hawks as well—raise that banner higher, my dear.”
With a cheer, you do as you’re told. You know this is about to take over your entire timeline very, very soon.
“Well well well, who could’ve imagined? Maybe the Prince of the Ice has some competition, eh?” Panning over the visuals to a smirking Sukuna and Gojo who was rolling his eyes- fondly, however. “Isn’t this the same lass that caused a fight between the two players during their last match together?”
Though you’re shaking your head with a laugh, Sukuna raises a thumbs up.
“Who’d have thought…maybe a friendship between two heated rivals really is possible after all?” The commentator muses out loud, and you’re dodging the phone cameras that are being shoved your way now. Being Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend always did come with a bit of publicity that you never did expect, but being the girlfriend of both of them…“Or maybe even…something more?”
Gojo and Sukuna look at each other.
They flip each other off.
“Or maybe not—” The man declares to roaring laughs, and Yaga is smoothly lifting his hand in a signal of dropping soon. “Let’s have a good game Gojo and Sukuna fans. Clean. Fair. For that Stanley cup. No one gets injured too badly and most important of all—rock me!”
The puck drops.
The game starts.
Who's winning over the Stanley Cup (and you?)
King of the Rink
Prince of the Ice
Forget them, you're the only real winner here.
Voting ended onJan 22
A/N. Shinjuku showdown? More like Shinjuku PLOUGH-down *throws tomatoes* Also fun fact: some of the commentary in here were taken from actual games!
Synopsis. ‘G’ for Geto Suguru. ‘G’ for the hot ghost living in your all-new apartment. ‘G’ for the way he’s going to break your bed (and your back, too…)
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, ghost!Geto, Lady K and the Sick Man AU, he’s feraI, oraI (fem rec.), spítting, chokíng, fíngering, stopping you from running, face-sítting, manhandIing, matíng presses, slight bréeding, rough s, making it fit, ínappropriate use of powers, pússydrúnk Geto, dúmbifícation, creampíes, cúmpIay, marathons, overstím, cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.0k
A/N. RUNNING to an apartment that has him-
You had a problem.
And it was all to do with that snug, slightly-shabby new apartment you’d just moved into. Sure, it was unverified but it wasn’t the worst - the water worked, and it was a fairly good price for a place this close to the city. A steal, practically.
You knew it was too good to be true.
You were laying on your half-constructed bed, body sore after a long day of lifting and unpacking. Your head sinks into the pillow with a sigh, more than done for the night. “M’never moving again.” And, blindly in the dark, you’re reaching your arm outwards.
Digging through the newly-installed bedside cabinet for - oh, you couldn’t help yourself - an impressive, hot-pink colored…toy.
You’re gulping as you flick on the switch, thighs clenching in anticipation - it really had been a long day. The thick vibratin’ tip just glides down the middle of your body like a pathway. Down, down, down—and that’s when you feel it.
Someone was watching.
Your heavy eyelids snap open (when did they even close?) And you’re casting a sweeping look around the humble room.
You couldn’t see much in this darkness, but then again nothing stood out of place.
And so you’re letting your vibrator go back to work, drawing sultry circles just with the tip by your navel. Again and again. So pent up. When it got too much, and you were just too drenched- you’re teasingly letting its length start to slip underneath your silky sleep shorts—
You feel it again.
Something that made icy goosebumps rise on every inch of your skin.
Someone was watching.
“Fuck- okay.” You’re immediately lurching to sit up on your bed, bouncing ever-so-slightly at the force. That baseball bat of yours for protection was downstairs, you think- but you could still throw a lamp if anyone was there. Maybe your vibrator (hah!)
And you instantly lean over for the lamp - not to throw it (yet), but rather to turn it on. “Who’s there? I swear on everything that if anyone’s there and I catch you are going to be- what the…”
You should have sworn.
You should have screamed.
Because as soon as the lights flood the walls of your bedroom, you’re not coming face-to-face with some masked, murderous intruder. At least, not in the way you might have expected - which, then again, you still couldn’t be sure.
Instead, you catch the pale, somewhat…other-worldly sight of a man dressed in all white.
Tall. Toned. His Stygian hair flowing over his shoulders and slightly over his face, reaching all the way till the tips tickled the floor. From what you could see of his features he was…handsome- delicate, pretty features, high cheekbones, and the most shapely lips all pink. The man smiles kindly, and through the gaps of his bangs you could tell that his eyes were upturned into happy half-moons.
Were you sure that some model or someone of the sort hadn’t accidentally ended up in your bedroom? And was he included in the rent?
This stranger wore a flowy kimono with the right side wrapped over the left. And even in such a drab thing, he looked ethereal.
There was a strange glow about him.
He almost looked like a…a ghost.
And he was standing in your empty closet.
“Wh-what the-” You’re gaping, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to blink yourself back into cognition (and to sanity). The realization: there was a strange man in your closet and yes, no matter how pretty he was, he’s still a strange man in your closet.
Without thinking, you’re reeling your hand back in a forceful throw. Hurtling. “-fuck!”
Your glitzy vibrator hits the back of your closet dead-on, it was a perfect throw.
And yet, it still didn’t hit the man.
Instead, it passed right through him.
Your veins grow cold as you wipe your eyes with your fists - he wasn’t there anymore. Urgently, you get off the bed and look around your room - he wasn’t there anymore.
Aw, great. He really was a ghost—so there was a reason this place was so damn cheap.
There was no way he could have sprinted from the confines of your closet to the doorway and out without you seeing him. So there was nothing to do but step towards the origin of this entire mess in the first place: the closet.
You cautiously step towards it, your footsteps echoing almost as loud as your heartbeat. As you reach the dark line in the tatami that marked the start of the closet, you begrudgingly can’t find anything amiss. Looking in every corner, on every empty shelf.
Looking upwards—
Ah.
A trapdoor.
A tiny square of a door that was cut out into the ceiling of the closet. You guessed that this led up to some sort of attic (the move had really been hasty, okay), and you tip-toe to brush your fingertips against the high ceiling.
Though, even if you did find him there, what could you even do? How does one even co-exist with a ghost-
Your toes knocked against the fallen vibrator.
And suddenly you have an idea.
You push open the wooden trap door with a creak, managing to peak your head up. And there, sure as day, was the crouched figure of the man. His lifeless face devoid of expression. Eyes wide. He spied down at you in silence as you pull yourself slightly into the attic space. Slightly crawling back a few inches.
He smiled that cute, crescent-eyed smile once more.
Without hesitation, you reach your hands out- and to your surprise, your palms meet solid flesh. Cold. But solid. You’re cupping his face and edging him closer to you. Grinning, “Hey there.”
The next second, your lips are on his.
And this man - this ghost - groans out in ecstacy. Melting into it. You swear you could feel the surface of his skin where your thumbs rested start to scorch with a red-hot blush. His bangs tickle your face as he tilts his head to the side and starts pressing in even deeper.
Until you have to pull away with a gasp and a slick line of spittle that still connects him to you. Something he’s shortening the distance of as he chases after your now-swollen lips with a whine.
“M-more-” He croaks out from the back of his throat, thick and wet with need.
To which you raise an amused brow, “Well, I’d like to know your name first, Mr. Ghost-”
“Geto Suguru.” Geto then starts closing the gap. Puckered, pink lips ravenous for yours. Just the slight edge of his fangs grazes your bottom lip as he starts gnawing down.
But you weren’t done just yet. “And then also I wanted to know what it’s like being a ghost? Any habits? Any dislikes?” You probe, expectant of his answer- but he only looks down at you with half-drunk eyes. Focused on only one thing. “If we’re going to co-exist then I think it’s better if we- mmpf.”
And that one thing was to kiss you silly.
He’s pryin’ your lips apart with his textured tongue, slithering inside so he can stick it into every ridge and orifice. Geto kisses you like a man wishing to quench his thirst after eons of going without. Hot and open-mouthed.
His sloppy kisses end up with a thin line of drool sliding down the edge of your lips and he grunts as he registers it. Dark lashes fluttering ever-so-slightly, “More.”
“Like- like this?” You’re panting by now.
You’re slightly dizzy from all the kissing, flapping your hazy lids a few times and realizing that you were now pressed up against the closet wall. How did you even get there?
Fuck, you had no idea. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Geto’s firm abs pressing through the cottony fabric of his kimono and onto your front. His ice-cold heat. His mouth pushing against yours over and over and over- he didn’t need to breathe.
And yet he was gasping into your mouth with every lecherous suck on your tongue, like his favorite candy. His favorite taste. “More.”
Oh.
What have you unleashed?
Your mouth parts in slight shock and he’s taking the opportunity to kiss you even harder. Until his plump, plush lips were on the verge of bruising and yet Geto didn’t even seem to notice.
Only briefly breaking off the Earth-shattering kiss to look you deep in the eyes. One of his pale, slender hands comes up beside your face and you stare at it in confusion. Still confused as he then clicks!
And suddenly you’re on the bed once again.
“Wh-what the-” You feel like you’ve been saying that non-stop tonight - but could anyone blame you? You’re looking around, your eyes taking their time to adjust to the abrupt change in setting. “You can do that?”
Geto only smiles a sly smile, something knowing. And he has the audacity to shrug.
Before his lips attack yours.
Again. Though, this time his hands are firmly caressing the sides of your body. Gliding down every dip and curve until he’s resting his fingertips against the elastic hem of your shorts.
Geto gives it a slight tug, before you’re pulling away.
“Ah ah-” You’re making a noise of warning over his disappointed huff. Geto narrowed eyes (were they amethyst colored? Oh, they were gorgeous) seem to light up as you then fiddle with the ties of his robe, “You first.”
Gladly.
Geto shoulders away the fabric of his kimono until you could make out his toned upper half. His chiselled chest. Pecs. The ladder-like ridges of his abs lining down his stomach- which is all the greedy glimpse you can take in before he’s then rip-rip-riiiipping off your shirt.
Buttons bursting everywhere as he throws it over his shoulder.
Your shorts are next. Though Geto takes his sensual time slipping them off- shuffling himself down as well. His pinkish tongue comes out to lick his lips as he watches a few stringy wads of your slick stick to the front of the shorts.
Oh, you were just so wet.
It was almost embarrassing. And as the smirk on his mouth grows, you find yourself puffing. “Don’t- don’t get cocky about it.” Attempting to close your legs just to stop the pure intensity of his stare and-
“Don’t.”
And perhaps it’s the startling divergence of him saying something else, perhaps it the sheer carnal need that seeps into just the tone of that one word - but you’re frozen as Geto then uses his palms to smear your sheeny thighs out until you whine at the stretch.
Taking just one second, maybe two, to admire the splosh of syrupy slick that runs between your pussylips. So thick and swollen with need that Geto gulps before he’s immediately surging his face between them.
Pushing in nose-deep.
He doesn’t hesitate for even a second. He doesn’t even breathe before sticking the fat, padded edge of his tongue on your sensitive folds.
Plastering. Gluing.
Geto’s fucking his prolonged tongue into you like such an animal- husking out moans at the back of his throat at he way your flooded entrance was just too tight to take all of his tongue in one go.
You’re whining as he pushes and pushes his honed, swabbin’ tip against the circular outer rim. Trying to stretch it out even further with the extreme girth of his tongue - he was just so thick. So big. “Oh- fuck, fuck. Calm down, Geto-”
“Suguru.” Geto practically jolts at the electricity of you saying his name.
“S-Suguru—” You squeal, your thighs shaking so much when he sticks his pointed chin to the bottom of your pussy. Just letting his head move in rovering motions and half-thrusts to bully inside. “You’re acting like you’ve been starving for ages, hah.”
And at that Geto lurches himself upright ever-so-slightly.
Syrupy juices drip down the lower half of his face and splatter back down onto your pussy. Glistening all the way down his jawline and up his cheekbones like a gloss.
“Oh, gorgeous…” And then he smiles. Something crazed in his eyes. “I haven’t tasted anything this sweet in life or death.”
Your chin drops to meet your chest, “Oh- wait, how old are you?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t expect me to count right now?”
And he was addicted already.
Properly spitting a wadded knot of saliva down, it strikes the front of your pussy harshly. To which Geto immediately followed up with a lingering few kisses, gluing his upper lip right near where your clit was.
Swollen and needy. And Geto’s just as ravenous as he tug n’ tugs your pussylips aside to fit inside his tongue.
“Never have.” One of his forearms comes up to rest against the inside of your left thigh. You’re trickling out in wires of slick as he runs one of his fat thumbs between your dripping wet crevice. Pushin’ just down on your perky nub like a button, “Never will- fuck, this pretty pussy’s all mine now. Y’know ghosts haunt for life?”
“N-ngh, oh my god…” Your mouth hangs ajar. Hips arching off of the slowly-dampening blankets to further push his pretty face into your pussy. “Y-you’re talking so much now, ngh.”
“Oh.” Like he didn’t even register that. And Geto clouds out a murky breath that heats up your core even more. Just so many sensations that already send zaps of pleasure skittering up your spine - it makes your cunt gush out in a waterfall of even more sap that Geto leans over to lap at.
Tongue fully flopping out, licking and licking every polished inch of you so that none of it goes to waste. You’d soaked yourself even wetter, and he was stopping mid-sentence just to taste you. Only after he’s done does he murmur. “Oh I’m…”
“Hm?”
“Drunk.” Oh. Geto’s knobbly thumb rolls over the tip-top of your clit in slow hearts, making your eyes swirl comically inside the whites of your eyes. “Fuck, always was a talkative- hah, drunk. You’ve got me pussydrunk, gorgeous.”
You admit, “I like it.”
His dark brows raise, the ends of his mouth twisting upwards into something mean. You should’ve known there was an inkling of darkness behind that sweet smile of his.
“Well, you’re going to like this a lot more.”
And then he’s not just teasing, he’s not waiting ‘round to stretch out your pussy’s entrance so that you can take him easily. No, the very tip of Geto’s tongue sticks inside your cunt and then shoves all the way through.
In quick, sloppy half-thrusts.
He’s probing and probing his flexible muscle into the most tender spots against your walls, just swirlin’ them around before each jackhammer so that he can reach every tiny cranny. And they were so thick, too, such a generous girth that stretched out your glossy walls as they should. “Oh, mmm, oh my god- fuck. Just like that, Suguru.”
“Mmm—” But he wasn’t doing it just like that. In fact, he was folding apart your puffy pussylips with the tip of his nose.
Letting it graze lightly against the front of your clit, only further putting pressure on your favorite nub. Hands and face. “More.” A particularly hard squeeze of your clit leaves you bucking wildly, your limbs shaking like a leaf. “More.”
“I’m t-trying—” You sob out, your hamstrings starting to ache with how much harder he was trying to pull your hips into him.
Grind after grind of your glistening, stimulated folds dragging down his features.
Geto rolls his murky irises and latches his free hand onto the side of your waist, “Tch-” He uses that leverage to guide your hips to form filthy figure-eights, openin’ you up just so he can plaster his hot mouth even further. “Try harder, honey. Harder. I don’t have to…heh, I don’t have to breathe, y’know?”
Your mouth drops into a little ‘oh!’ as he then starts to sink in his middle finger inside your wet pussy.
You were just so hot n’ velvety around him, it felt like he was being crushed in from all sides by a slice of fucking heaven.
Shit. It should be illegal to feel like this.
Dazedly, he’s letting another plumpened digit (his ring finger, this time) scrape against the squeezing edges of your walls. Two of his fingertips almost fighting against his mouth for purchase of your honeyed cunt, pushing and pushing.
“Sh-shit, your fingers are so long-” You’re wailing out, your hands somehow weaving through the sweaty valleys of his locks. And even that only seemed to be used to drag you down even deeper. Even harder against his face.
Something that Geto loves - if the way he fucking smiles against your core told you anything. The toying tip of his tongue pulls out and clings to the outside of your folds now, and he slowly slithers it up to circle on top of your clit. Everywhere. “Oh yeah, c’mon, gorgeous. Like that. Haaaaaarder.”
“T-trying to-”
“And try harder.” There was something stirring in the way that Geto said those words - something dark, something almost predatory. It was a tone that you already knew wouldn’t bode well for you or your poor, puckered pussy.
And before you know it, Geto has one of his hands in the air once again.
Smirking as he watches the exact moment your eyes bulge at the sight, lips dropping onto an ‘o’ of recognition. He hums, “Like- this-” And then he snaps his fingers once.
The next time you’re blinking, you’re the one on top.
Your eyes level with the splintering wooden headboard, your legs wobbly where they straddled his handsome face. Geto Suguru had all the teleportation powers in the world and he’d chosen to use it n’ have you seated on his face.
Splayed out on the bed. His mouth chasing your other pair of lips.
Riding your sloppy cunt down his mouth in rapid, little ruts. “O-oh my god, you’re just- just-” You can’t find the words, especially with your mind all muddied like this. Losing your train of thought any time his rovering tongue was licking upwards.
Geto feels you start to hover your hips upwards, not wanting to put his full weight on him. And with his brows furrowed, the man only locks his arms around your waist and pulls you to sit on him. Properly. “-f-filthy! Fuck!”
“Don’t insult me by fucking hovering, gorgeous.” He warns you. Three of his roughened fingerpads now pryin’ apart your pussylips. Before you know it, he’s gyrating them upwards in vulgar strokes, “Who do you even- hah, think you are? Just- fucking- sit-”
You’re already seated on top of him, and he’s using his inhuman strength to pressure your pussy against his mouth even more. Still.
Just truly jackhammering away all the pretty spots inside your walls as he does so. Pinpointing every bundle of nerves. Geto’s extended middle finger grazes almost near the splotchy area of your g-spot and you moan. “There- just a little closer, Suguru, ngh.”
“Oh yeah? There?” His fingertips maze in that very direction, but this time they’re missing the place completely. And Geto snickers as you shake your head whinily, “Then, maybe I can’t reach it?”
“But-”
“Maybe you just hafta ride my face for it.”
Oh.
He was just playing with you. Driving you wild with the thrashing drags of his tongue up n’ down your slit. You could feel every sizzling ridge of his tastebuds, they mold against the throbbing nub of your clit and leaves you reeling.
Once again, Geto pokes his slick-glazed fingers up right near your g-spot and forces your babbling answer out of you. “C’mon, I’m a gentleman. Sit on my face.”
“F-fine—fuck!” You hiccup through your tears.
Holding onto the silken strands of hair, you grind your hips down harder. Feeling this, Geto’s mouth drops all the way till his limits- wider, deeper, opening up to stick his fingers into your hidden nooks n’ crannies. “Just like that- oh, just like that. Open up wiiiide f’me, please.”
“Don’t stop- feels so good like this.” Your entire body shakes when he bangs a fourth fingertip against the rim of your hole a few times before fitting that in, too.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you, honey.” Geto purrs. This new angle made your sultry pussy let off the most filthy, dampened slurps every time he thrusted his fingers back and forth. Tongue swipin’ up any cobweb of slick that hung out of your hole and dripped down his wrist.
Any and every splash of your juices, he’s lavishing it up.
You swear you can hear Geto finally strike your g-spot and gulp at the mess it creates. Your toes curled. Head thrown backwards.
You’re spraying out your sweetened slick like a fountain - one that he’s got his mouth opened wide for. Partially-closed eyes locked with yours when he lets it all pool at the back of his throat and swallows.
Fingers thrusting primally inside of you, “Now I- fuck.” His voice was husky, any coherence in them positively shattered. “And now I need you to, ngh, cream all on my tongue, gorgeous. Okay? Yeah? Can this cute human body do that f’me?”
Stupidly, you’re nodding. Body moving before your mind. “Mhm—yes, ngh.”
“Heh, because a dinner isn’t complete without dessert, is it?”
“Yes- yes yes yes, please.”
You just look so pretty whimperin’ and trembling on top of him like this. Your weight presses against Geto’s lower half and he’s moving you feverishly. Swabbin’ the plush fingertips of his digits, he fucks them up into your g-spot and watches as your whole body loosens.
Slouching on top of him, slurping up his every probe.
His mouth upturns into a smile as he suckles on your clit last, “Mhmm—so cum.” He jostles your body around like a ragdoll, as if you weighed nothing. “Ride my face now- and cum- fuck. Use me and cum.”
“Gonna–” Drool seeps from your mouth and down your chin. “Sh-shit I think m’so close.”
“Yeah? Better cream all down my- hngh, tongue, gorgeous.” Geto’s nose crinkles as he feels your movements get sloppy. You could barely control yourself, your head way too dizzy to focus on anything but his roverin’ fingers, sticking against your g-spot in harsh cadence. “Yeah- all down my tongue. Use me-” He bucks his own gluttonous mouth forwards, “Use me use me use me- fuck!”
You’re clenching around his thick fingers so hard that it’s almost hard to slam back in.
“C-cum f’me, honey.”
Within only a few sultry seconds, you’re toppling over into your high.
So hard that you shut your eyes and they still flash white behind your lids. You claw onto Geto’s clammy scalp and push your hips- “Cum—ing, mm.” Your pulse throbs aggressively at both your temple and between your legs. And your lips flap wildly with shrills, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, it just feels so g-good, Suguru. Never felt like- hck! this before.”
“Heh, aw my poor girl. My poor, poor gorgeous girl.” Geto cooes, though you could discern the amusement in his voice. He smacks his lips on top of your clit, sucking through every peak of your high. So accurate it was almost as if he could see them.
Spearheading your treacly entrance through each wave of bliss.
You swear you’re seeing stars once he surges his head even closer and then decides to bite down on that cute nub. “Don’t you worry now. Ghosts have endless stamina, didn’t you know?”
“Th-they do?” Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull - you didn’t expect that. But he’s proving it to you exactly. Slapping his fingers up against the gooey roof of your pussy even after your high is nothing more than a few tingles. “But what if I can’t last-”
“Of course, you will.”
“What if I can’t cum aga-”
“Of course, you will.” Geto was firm on that one. And he was still makin’ out with your pussy as if he was going to prove it to you. Even after most of your orgasm has bated. Even after it was nothing but a few twinges of pleasure bubbling in your veins.
Even after you were so overstimulated that it brought tears to your eyes- Geto takes his own sensual, slow time licking away the last few dewdrops of slick from your cunt. Humming in satisfaction only once he’s finally polished you off completely, “And we have alllll night.”
Geto doesn’t snap his fingers a second time - too pussydrunk to.
But he’s still flipping you over, the soft fabric of his kimono falling down his shoulders and revealing a few slivers of his milky, toned hips. His kimono covered practically nothing. Practically all-exposed. Him on his meaty knees, you facing him. The perfect viewpoint. All Geto has to do is move his wrapped robes aside- and suddenly you’re face-to-face with the largest, hardest cock you’ve ever seen in your entire life.
And so pretty, too.
He had a thick bulging tip that was blushed a delicate red, scorched in a gradient all the way down to his neat base. Some sparse, curly hairs of black. Your mouth waters as you take in the creamy wad of precum that beads out of his reddened tip, and drips all down.
And his size—oh.
You can’t help it- you’re leaning yourself closer n’ plopping your mouth wetly on top of his flared mushroom head. He tastes salty and of something sweet, almost like honey.
Groaning at the taste, you shiver as Geto hunches over at the feeling of your mouth. His sculptured back flexing, he crouches over to kiss down your arched spine.
Humming, “Sh-shit, dunno what’s sweeter- this mouth or that pretty pussy, hngh.” He grits his teeth.
You whine into his length when you start to bob your head, throat letting off primal gulps every time Geto’s vein-covered shaft slides down your tongue and targets your throat. He was just so hard that you flinched every time he pulsed, eyes fluttering shut.
“Aww, what’s the matter?” Geto coos down, his rough palm resting on the back of your neck. Meanly, Geto pushes you down and giggles when you choke. “Too big for you, honey?”
“M-mmmpf-” You’re managing out.
And he nods like he understands, “Mhm, don’t worry, gorgeous.” And then with a final buck, like a teaser, he cups your lolling head and pulls you off. The action lets out the most carnal squelch- “I’ll make it fit.”
Click!
You’re on your back. Your head placed softly against the pillows, your legs thrown over his shoulders.
Geto shoots you the most devilish grin as he holds onto both your thighs and folds you all the way in half. Like a lawnchair underneath him - with your heels against his muscular back, your foreheads touching.
Into a mating press.
With one hand letting off, he holds onto his bulky hilt and smack-smack-smacks his pink, globular tip between your pussylips. Groaning, “So you better- haaaah, take a deeeeep breath now.”
Your brows slightly knit, “Why do I need to- oh, fuck!” You’re gasping. Heaving. Crying out in lewd trills to which Geto cuts you off by smearing his mouth against yours in a filthy, filthy kiss.
You’re moaning as he fills you up without even trying.
Just the plump, fleshy tip of his cock probing inwards. It stretches out your geysering hole so widely- the smooth lines of his cockhead, and that sensitive line of his slit that massages your walls so sinfully.
You’re still slightly overwhelmed by your high, and every texture fitted inside of you made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
A few veins ran down the middle of Geto’s cock, slightly redder than the rest of his shaft. And they flinched inside your cunt once he started easing his way in, “Shit- shit, you’re just so big- ngh. Fuck I don’t know if I can–”
“You will.” Sternly, Geto’s kissing you again. Shutting up your silly words, he’s sighing as his massive tip finally swabs its way inside with a wettened plop! “Ghosts never break promises- mm, I never break promises.” Staring dead-on into your hazy peripherals. Voice run ragged. “M’gonna make it fit.”
“Fuck—fuck, it’s so much.”
He wasn’t even thrusting - half-rutting, knees spread, bucking wildly like an animal.
Geto had gotten one cloying taste of your pussy wrapped ‘round his cock and he was suddenly addicted. Suddenly forgetting any and every method of rolling his hips, and instead simply holding onto you and bullying his fat cock inside.
Both of his hands lace over your scalp, and every time one of his hammering pushes left you reeling- Geto was there to drag you back into his hips again. “What did I say? Hah, what did I say?”
He looks downwards, his jet-black hair falling around the two of you like some silky curtain. You follow his line of sight and come across the most lecherous scene: with your sheeny pussylips all glossed and glittering with slick, dripping all over every time he was nudging his swollen inches inside.
Bit by bit.
Using the restraint he had on you to shove—“M’gonna make it fit- gonna, hah.”
“H-how is it all even fitting, Suguru?” You whine out, your mouth gaped. Geto was a streamlined size near the end of his shaft; but the deeper you took him in, the thicker he became. The more his proud circumference dragged along your walls and stretched you out.
His zig-zagged veins drove you crazy, and you grappled your fingers onto his sculptured deltoids.
Geto registers your words, and one of his hands lifts off of your head and down onto your front. He pushes down so hard that your breath hitches, feeling for himself as he fucks his size inside. “Oh, honey, you really wanna know?” Something devilish sparkled in his darkened eyes. “You really, really wanna know?”
“Y-yes?” You’re questioning, not entirely sure what you were in store for.
And it turns out- the surface of Geto’s palm, where it was in tactile contact with your stomach, started to glow. Some part of it seeming almost…transluscent as he then glides his hand up n’down. Almost as if he was caressing.
As if he could see exactly where the fat, bludgeoning tip of his shaft ended.
“See here? Here.” Then he’s drawing an invisible line somewhere about midway down your front. Leaning in even closer, “Here’s where I am.” Those glowing fingertips of his move further upwards, dangerously upwards. “And here’s where m’ngh- going to be.”
You balk as that calloused tip of his digits goes up, up, up.
All the way up to your throat- “And here’s where m’gonna be reaching for.”
Oh.
And then he’s fucking you exactly like it. His round, globular tip bulging against the sides of your tight channel- again and again and again. Geto’s hefty thighs slam into the backs of yours with stinging smacks, shovelling his hips ruthlessly.
“And don’t you worry, gorgeous–” He’s whispering out against your ajar mouth, a slight line of drool starting to fall from the edge of your lips at the pressure. “I’m gonna reach there, gonna do it a-all.”
Clammy palm pushing down even harder.
“You can feel it, can’t you?”
“Yes- yes!” Fuck, it genuinely did feel as though he was probin’ his crowned tip against your very lungs. Bruising in a wide circular bruise, Geto snaps his hips further forwards and you feel your back arch. “Can feel you a-all the way in, ngh, here.”
“Awww, there?” Geto chuckles down at the cute way you were clutching onto somewhere ‘round your stomach. Somewhere ‘round your cervix. Feeling him go in even deeper than his jackhammers were going.
The spanking impact of his hips only growing more vicious- he rovers his free hand onto your throat and uses that to keep your restless body still. The perfect target for him to aim his vulgar thrusts, “Then you better allow me to- hah, give it to you there.”
“Yes- yes yes-” Your flooded pussy swallows him up readily with a sluuuuurp, and you feel him ultimately bottom out by your cervix.
“Come on then-” He’s spitting. He’s seething. “-fuck me harder. Fuck back into me.”
The goopy end of your cunt gets punished with a thorough slam of his blushin’ red cockhead. And despite stretching you out to your maximum already, Geto forces his weight down even further. Like he wanted his lengthy shaft to spearhead even deeper-
“Look at youuuu—” He’s crooning out, his breathy gasp botched with a few hitches now. You just felt so fucking—oh, he couldn’t even put it into words. “Look at you all t-taking it. Fuck back further into me and oh, we are going to have a ngh- niiiiice co-habitation, gorgeous.” Couldn’t even put it into feeling.
The only thing that Geto can do is squelch back his merciless hips. Carnally letting reach winding vein outline the inside of your cunt- and then he’s thoroughly jutting back in.
Hitting the back of your pussy. Swabbing his slick, drivelling tip into every crevice inside.
He’s smoothing out the ridges of your cunt on his veiny length again. And again. And again and again and again so many times that the spongy area of your cervix starts feeling raw. You stutter out a few sobs, “Oh my g-god, hnghhh—I don’t know if I’d be able to t-take it like this every day in that case.”
“You don’t know?” Geto’s face falls into a faux-pout. And then you’re gasping at the feeling of his frigid thumb gliding across your stomach, his powers fully activated. “Fuck back into me a little-” As you jostle yourself forwards. “Heh, a little more.”
You grab onto him for anchorage, “I’m t-trying.”
“Mhm, trying and I haven’t even shown you the, mmm, half of it.”
Your eyes widen, “What’s the half of it?”
“Well one half is kissin’ that cute little cervix of yours.” He’s smiling, hunching his shoulders forwards so that his pre-glazed tip was fully glued to your cervix. Drawing out little vertical lines every time he drills inside, “Feel that? Fuck- feel me in there, honey?”
“I d-do…”
“And then the other half- or, well, other part is to find that pretty g-spot inside here.” Swirlin’ the slicked end of his cock all around.
Geto’s using it almost like a spotlight, stirring it against the most delicate places on your walls. With each of his hammering thuds, he manages to probe his cockhead even closer to your g-spot. Right where he’d mapped it out before - and right where his ghoulish eyes could see.
With it, he could pinpoint that exact location of your sweetest, most favorite spot.
“And it can be fooooound…” Geto himself was starting to slobber out from the side of his mouth at this point, like every push of his sensitive length only left him more and more pussydrunk. “Riiiight…”
With every longing drag of his words, he accelerates his cadence.
And it was just the right tempo to make your pupils circle comically, your thighs twitching where they lay across his shoulders. You gasp for air once his fingers press, in—“S-Sugu, it feels like you’re reaching straight for my- fuck!”
He is.
A plump, plush smooch of his mushroomy tip straight into your g-spot.
Geto strikes his cock against that particularly treasured area so hard that you’re seeing stars. “Yeeees?” Driving into you like such a madman, such incredible strokes that leave you speechless. “Reaching straight for your-” Palm leaving indents where he pushed, where his nails clawed. “-what, gorgeous girl?”
“My- my- fuck.” Your throat clogged up with so many sobs and hitches. And you’re sure that by now you’d barely even be able to spell out your own name let alone-
“Can’t spell out your name, hm?” He tilts his head to the side, teasingly looking at you through the gaps of his shaggy black bangs. “Do you even know your name right now?”
You gasp, “Well…”
And at that even Geto himself seems slightly taken aback. You were that fucked stupid?
With one hand on your throat, the other then snakes down to the gooey in-betweens of your thighs. Swipin’ over your plump clit with his thumb, “Awww, that’s alright. Heh, let this ol’ ghost here do allll the work. And you just worry about that last- hck! part of it.”
“I—oh.” The rough fringe of his thumb outlines a few hearts on top of your nub for a few seconds. Before he’s suddenly drawing hearts- and his foggy pupils were shaped just the same.
Heart-eyed.
As you feel the molten bliss start to build up in the pit of your stomach, you strangle out. Slightly mesmerized by the way he was just so ruined. “And what is that, hngh, last part of it, Sugu?”
“Oh, well, y’know…” He casually looks down between your legs. The gooey splashes of slick n’ precum that kept on pouring out. It’s a sight that makes him smile. Geto sweetly kisses your lips, “The next part would be to cum inside.”
“C-can a ghost even cum inside?” You’re wondering out loud, now thoroughly gone on his large, plummeting shaft.
“Oh, honey-” Geto croons, “-you’re about to find out.”
And it’s with a few more sloppy thrusts, just a few more twists of his ravenous fingers- he’s toying with you, driving you wild until you’re finally crashing into your nth high of the night. Because it’s not just one orgasm - over and over, your entire body is being pounded by repeated waves of bliss.
Your clawed hand on his shoulder falls off, and Geto uses one of his to bring it back up to his mouth. He kisses the back of your hand softly as he cums deep inside your womb.
“Ohhhh, god.” Geto throws his head back, silky hair flying. Before he fights against the reflex- his urge to stare down at your pretty face was even stronger.
With one hand pushing up his curtain bangs, and the other pressing down on your cum-inflated stomach. Geto chuckles as he feels you drip down both your legs and his, a shiny coating of ivory white. “Oh fucking hell, I’d die another thousand times just to see a sight like this- fuck.”
“I f-feel so full.” You can barely gurgle out. Your voice feeling all thick at the sensation of his clingy wads of cum being pumped into you.
He’s cumming and cumming- and you swear that one of the lights on the other end of your hallway burst. Each of your skins covering with a layer of supernatural power.
Geto pushes and pushes each sappy layer of it inside with his crowned shaft, the bulbous end of it plugging up your every orifice with the thick knots of his seed. You can feel it splosh all about you, your legs thrashing on top of his shoulders as yet another thrust of his leaves your walls all raw. All overstimulated.
A thickened few drops of it slip from between your pussylips and drench his fat base. To which he’s swiping a finger around and coating it in the glittery moisture, sucking on it. “Mmm–” Geto savors the taste. “So you remember what I said about a ghost’s stamina, gorgeous?”
You were still shaking with the aftershocks of your high, and your ringing eardrums could barely believe what they were hearing.
But he leans in, emphasizing.
“And by that, I mean more.”
.
.
.
“Oh fuh-fuck…” You’re hiccuping out from the back of your throat. Barely able to even hold your head up, you rest it on Geto’s prominent collarbones, your spittle splashing out in waves.
Something that he’s staring down at with a chuckle, and swabbin’ the plump end of his thumb between your drooling lips. Pushin’ all those wads back, “Haaah, what’ve I said about keeping it- ngh, inside? Both those pretty lips of yours are the same, gorgeous.”
You’re whimpering at this tutted statement - what else could he expect?
After your first round there’d been the second, the third, then the fourth- then the fifth where your high was nothing but a few oversensitive tingles that left you crying. And yet, Geto still had the stamina for a sixth.
Even when his thick, bludgeoning cock was all red n’ raw. Even when he was swollen with need. Even when his precum was webbing out in milky ribbons like cum, and he couldn’t even control himself by now - he was still going.
One hand plastered on the side of your hips to help you ride him silly, the other cupping your face. Geto softly kisses your ajar mouth, before he then spits.
Thick and splattered on the side of your lips, Geto moves his hand down from your face to your neck then. Using it to help your overworked hips slide even faster down his cock, you twitch at the feeling of each vein scrapin’ your poor insides. “C’mon, cooooome on. I told ya what to expect with a- hah, ghost, honey. Didn’t I?”
“You’re no ghost- I think you’re some beast.” You whine out tearily. In response, he snakes the hand at your hips down. Latching on instead to your clit, and he bears no regrets simply puuuuulling.
He purrs, “What was that, honey?”
Your body is trembling on top of him. All wobbly, you angle the splotched area of your g-spot to meet his mushroom tip. Over and over. “I said you- you are a- fuck.”
“Mhmmm—?”
And by now you’re fully dumbified.
You should have known better than to think that Geto Suguru would go easy on you. In fact, he was only wildly thrashin’ his tip against your cervix harder, it draws with the creamy streaks of cum left before. And if you were any less ruined, then you might not have noticed the way that his supernatural eyes narrow down at your front. At the way he simply stares.
“Hmmm, can’t tell if it’s taken yet~” He muses, out loud. Head tilted, and with it so was the inky curtain of his hair. “But it hasn’t…not taken, heh.”
“Fuck- any chances that power of yours can tell when- hngh, when you’re showing any signs of stopping?” You’re huffing out, and he quickly gives a rude spank against the doorway to your womb to make you shut up.
Shaking his head seriously, “Ohhhh, honey.” Geto then lifts his hand off of your throat and drifts it downwards, letting the waterfall of sap drench his thumb. Before he plugs it inside your mouth, making you suck on it like some lolly. “You’d be lucky if either of us made it out of this alive.”
Oh.
You sure would be lucky.
Because within only a split-second, he’s slouching back sexily. Further against the pillows so that he could drill his hips up into you- your cute bounces n’ figure-eights just weren’t enough. Geto wanted to fuck you.
And he wanted to fuck you hard.
He wanted to pound his plummy, split-ended tip against the back of your pussy until you were practically sobbing. And he was.
Long, slurped drags of his vein-decorated cock. Ones that splosh around the oodles of cum layered on your walls, getting them into every tiny nook and cranny. He was so thick - you swear he was swollen with even more need than before - that he let you mewling after every ramming thrust.
With nose crinkled, teeth gritted into a snarl, Geto sticks his divot into the area of your g-spot. And he watches as you whimper, your mouth babbling out something half-nonsensical. “Gonna- cum- ngh, again. Sugu!”
“Mmm, love how you say my name.” You were burning up, practically at a fever-pitch by this point. “Can you say it even louder? Hmmm? Say it even hah! more?” With a few more hefty thrusts you’re feeling the oncoming wave of your high- though, by now it felt more like a few white-hot sparks.
Leaving your head completely blank. “I don’t- I don’t-”
“Yeahhh, you can.” He knew you were close. And he didn’t even need his powers to tell.
He could simply feel it in the way your walls were relentless in their adorable clenching. Their slick surfaces growing wetter by the second, a few lines of your honeyed slick glissade down your legs and up his prominent v-line - now all red with slamming impact.
Only flushing even further.
Especially when he speeds up, probin’ his tip mercilessly. And then, in a final pattern, Geto cups the base of his length and helps slide his glazed tip.
It almost feels like he’s circlin’ his girth around your walls, just stretching you out. But, really, he was writing out - a long, scrolly ‘G’ at the very back of your bruised pussy. One that makes Geto huff out in laughter, the burning sting sizzles against your most tender spots. “And what’s that spellll—?”
“G-Geto—” Another curling line that he was scouring out. Within your cockdrunken mind, it almost felt like an ‘S’. ’“Suguru- fuck. Suguru!”
And with that, you’re cumming.
Short and sharp- your vision in front shattered with a kaleidoscope of tears. Suddenly overtaken by so many spurts of high that you don’t know where yours ends and his starts. Your back arching, breath stuttered.
You’re so far gone that you barely even realize it once a sudden warmth seeps between your legs. Flooding out your tender orifice with a few hefty dollops of cum, “Mmm, yeahhh. Take it, gorgeous. Take- hah, take all of it.”
“I am-” You bawl out, “I am I am-”
Your bedroom lights were already long-shattered from hours prior, and it doesn’t take long for the sheer force of Geto’s orgasm to leave your unbolted furniture shaking. Hovering. You swear you catch your sagged bed lift off of the ground a few centimeters as he rides out his orgasm on your heated, wet pussy.
“S’right here.” His tracing index glides up the middle of your body, as if you couldn’t feel him. Even in the darkness. “Riiiight in the middle here. And- ngh-” His toned hips shift as he sees white with overstimulation, the dribble of his cum petering out after a sudden surge.
You suddenly realize that Geto’s cumming dry now - he didn’t even know that was possible.
The power goes off in your all-new apartment.
But also in every ward in Tokyo.
Burst after burst of his high leaving you completely spent. You whimper as you feel his supernatural energy let off a few sparks where he touched - but mostly where he plastered a few fingers to your clit. A constant, buzzing sensation even better than any of your toys and vibrators- honestly, you couldn’t even think of those right now.
As he feels his flinching tip stop moving, Geto looks up at you with the most heady, pussydrunken eyes. Parted lips. Messy hair.
He just looked so pretty. His voice trembling with need as Geto finishes off, “And I believe it’s taken now, gorgeous.”
You blink, “Taken? You mean…”
“Mhm.” He just looks so proud of himself. So accomplished. Lovingly grazing his hand down the front of your stomach, where a bulge of stuffed cum was starting to form, in a way that only ever could be done by him.
He embraces you tightly, head falling on your shoulder. And despite being cold, usually, you can’t help but notice that he was sweating. Warm. “All taken.”
“O-oh–” You shake atop him, vision still bleary with the haze of your high. But it was starting to fade back in, and so was your sense of rationality.
You could feel his ivory sap dripping out like a faucet from your core, all creamy and lust-filled. Looking down at it- the way it had completely ruined your silky sheets by now, almost made you feel shy. “B-before that we might have to discuss splitting rent, first.”
Synopsis. Having your father be the sheriff of your lil’ town is tough. Until you bring over Toji Fushiguro - roughest, hottest outlaw of the wild west - for dinner. And Toji’s hungry for something else.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, outlaw!Toji, wild west AU, slight fake dating, overprotective parents, banter, lassos, town gossip, pússydrúnk Toji, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, spítting, p talking, holding you down, dúmbifícation, he’s BIG, making it fit, talking you through it, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, manhandIing, creampíes, feraI Toji, breaking beds, getting together, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 8.8k
A/N. Did any of y’all see the lunar eclipse last night hehe-
“You there—you’re that Toji, if I’m not mistaken?”
“Depends on who’s wantin’ to know.” The gruff man smirks, leaned against the wooden counter of your ol’ town’s saloon. “Yer the sheriff’s daughter.”
You huff, arms crossing in an unlady-like manner that would make your mother positively faint. “Depends on who’s wanting to know.”
Toji tips his black cowboy hat, “Me.” Before taking your hand in his large, scarred one- kissing the back of it softly. “Pleasure’s all mine, pretty lady.”
Oh. You almost understood why every woman in town - and some men - had been fit to drop at the recent intrusion of Toji Fushiguro. He’d ridden here unannounced - no one knew where from, and no one knew where to. Some whispered that he was an outlaw, on the run for his crimes.
But that was perfect for you. “Truth is…I want you to meet my mother and father.”
“Bold.” He drinks you in like he’s parched, eyes dragging slowly. “I’ve got a taste for bold women.”
“D-don’t get the wrong idea, ya lecher-” You’re squawking at his reply- or perhaps at the way his sage, half-lidded eyes seemed to be boring right through you. And your shrill is loud enough that it attracts the attention of a few bar-goers around you- the rambunctious singing faltering, peaking over in nosy curiosity at the fact that the sheriff’s daughter was spotted going down to the saloon. And right up to the talk of the town, Toji Fushiguro, no less.
You could already imagine the gossip that was starting to simmer. And do your very best to push down the incredulity in your tone, clearing your throat. “M-my apologies for the outburst. What I mean is, I need someone to sit with me through dinner with the folks. And I was wondering…”
“I don’t reckon you’re hurting for any suitors, doll.” Toji cocks his head, pushing aside his local whiskey to lean in close. Real close. “What’s your game?”
To which you twist your fingers into the expensive fabrics of your full-length gown. “I need…” Dipping your volume so that the old drunkards inching in couldn’t hear. And Toji dutifully helps you- by craning his head just so that his airish breath hits your face. A few gasps sound. “I need someone to give my parents a proper fright tonight- show them they don’t have to be so protective all the time.”
He lets the words sink in.
He blinks.
He looks at you.
Before Toji bursts into a hoarse, boyish gust of laughter that seemed to take you both by surprise. Head tipping backwards until you could catch the bob of his prominent Adam’s apple, “Cheers ta that, pretty lady.” He takes a deep swig of his whiskey, finishing it off. “And you’re sayin’ I’m just the feller to scare off the sheriff, eh?”
You narrow your eyes, how you’d give anything to have your parents ease up just a mite. To loosen their leash on you just so that you might be able to live like the other unwed residents of the town your age. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if one of his law enforcement spies was here looking out for you already. And so it was the perfect plan- to scare them, just a bit. “Well now, you got any manners?”
“Ain’t said ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ since I first learned ‘em.” He grins.
“Got a respectable job?”
“I go where that damn broom-tail horse takes me.”
“You know how to handle a lady properly?”
“Oh, I can handle ‘em alright.” You swear the music of the bar lowers just to hear this conversation. And as you gape, his scar-decorated lips curl up sinfully. Yeah, you really did understand why both married and unmarried women were frenzied at the mere sight of him.
Because Toji was devilishly handsome.
Shaggy black hair. Sharp features. It was a face that should grace the silver screen. Sprawled over the dingy counter, he was towering more than the town’s most accomplished cowboys. Each side of his tightly-fitted leather vest full, you could practically count the rippling muscles through his pushed up long-sleeve shirt. And you had to will yourself not to flick your gaze down at his sturdy denim trousers when he manspreads, hips slightly bucking.
One dark brow of his raises, “But that’ll cost ya. And don’t think it’ll be cheap- n’ no kissing, m’not part of a hookhouse-”
“I’m good without those services, good sir-”
“Ya sure?”
“But if you reckon the price’ll be too steep…” With an over-dramatic swoon, you shake your head as you turn - as if the price really was too significant. And he watches you go, smile growing until you tilt your head towards him and bring up a hand to flash a pretty note from the town bank.
A letter of credit from your father’s considerable depositing account, so much gold as earned as the sheriff that he couldn’t possibly spend it all. It could be considered a check, and just as expected- Toji’s eyes bulge at the sheer amount written on it.
“Now- now hold on there, pretty lady.” Before you know it, there’s suddenly a firm rope thrown over your waist. And tugged. You’re realizing with a gasp that Toji had lassoed you to him, to boisterous, drunken cheers from around the saloon.
He doesn’t rest until he’s pulled you right back to him, your front to his muscular one. Chin tilted down to look at you, “I love the way ya think, doll.”
“Deal?”
“Deal.”
.
.
.
The clock ticked.
The cicadas outside howled.
And your father hasn’t taken a bite of dinner since you entered through those very doors - with Toji Fushiguro in tow. His face darkened as he recognized the hooligan from town, his fingers trembling when Toji had his arm around the back of your chair permanently.
Your mother sighs for the nth time tonight, dabbing the edges of her mouth with the dainty serviette. “So…the weather-”
“Why, I can’t think of better skies for horse-back riding, burning the breeze, and-” Toji cuts in, seated next to you, right opposite your parents. He nudges you with his bulky shoulder, purposefully lingering the contact. “-late-night rendezvous.”
Your father’s plate cracks- and you look over to see that he’d cut right through the ceramic with his knife.
“Ah, you’ve got a bit o’ something there-” You hear Toji croon, before you can get out a word. And then he’s leaning even closer - if that was even possible - to smear away a smudge of mashed potato that’d splattered over from your father’s untouched plate.
With the back of his roughened thumb, he’s just barely grazing your lips. Reeling it back up to his mouth and licking it off of his fingerpad with his eyes locked on yours- fuck, you feel thrills go down your spine.
He turns back to your mother as if nothing had ever happened, “The potato’s mighty fine, ma’am.”
“Wh-why thank you-” And your mother can’t help but fan herself ever-so-slightly- you fault her. You felt like doing the same.
Though, your father clearly felt anything but. And he cuts into some of the vegetables on his dish with much more vicious pleasure than needed. “So, Fushiguro-”
“Toji.”
“Toji, and what do you do fer a living?”
“Travel. Whatever suits.” Toji has the audacity to wink at you, and you have to stifle a laugh. “Got a few more in mind, but ‘twouldn’t be proper talk at the table, you know what I mean?”
“How long do you plan on stayin’?”
You sigh, “Father, he’s fine. Honest.”
Toji counters, “However long my gal wants me ta stay.”
“And how do you plan to take care of my daughter-”
“Oh, I can take care of ‘er alright-”
“You little-”
“Father.” You warn, “Be polite, he’s a guest.”
Reluctantly, he’s settling back down- and your mother stretches her mouth into a plastic smile. “Mr. Toji, so you ah- you certainly have all the townsfolk chattin’, I hear.”
“Oh I hear, alright.” Your father cuts in before Toji can say anything, “Word travels fast ‘round these parts boy. And as sheriff s’my duty to know who’s walking in an’ out of this town- and I heard you’re nothin’ but trouble. Some folks tell me yer an outlaw.” It felt more like an interrogation than anything, the yolky lamp light above the table flickers slightly. “Is that true?”
The raven-haired man stares him down - he certainly looked the part. Rough. Rugged. Handsome in that roguish way that made most respectable elders of the town concerned. “Depends on who’s askin’.”
Your father shoots up from the dinner table, and so do you- ready to hold him back from a scuffle if needed. He might be the sheriff, but Toji was younger, bigger and stronger, and you wanted him to shed his overprotectiveness, but that didn’t mean you wanted broken bones. “Father- don’t you lay a hand on him-”
“He’s a scoundrel.” He’s spitting, fingers jabbing. “I heard the talk o’ town. He’s a lazy, good-for-nothing-”
“Oi, I’m good at one thing- ain’t that right, pretty lady?”
You think your father nearly pops a blood vessel. At least two once you’re pitching out, lower lip jutting out in a pout- “But father, I love him-”
“Love ya, too, doll.” Toji looks right at the other man, broad back rested against the chair still, without a care in the world. “We’re fixin’ for a wedding come spring- or we might just skip town and tie the knot, who’s to say?”
You take a peak at the revered town sheriff, sensible, never letting go of his guard on you - and he looks as if he might just buckle to his knees. Hands coming up almost as if it were for prayer, and your mother quickly holds onto his side, helping him slouch back down into his seat.
He whispers to himself, gawking- “A wedding- a wedding- grandkids?”
She gently looks up at you, plastering a smile onto her face. “Perhaps you ought to go to your room now, until your father cools off.”
Nodding, you then turn to head towards the stairway to your bedroom- and so does Toji.
“And where’d you reckon you’re goin’?”
“To my gal’s quarters.” He answers your father, breezily following behind you. Almost stomping up the lacquered wooden floor as if to emphasize his ascent.
And he grumbles, “I can fight, boy.”
Toji peaks his head in just before he’s disappearing up to the second floor, verdant eyes crinkling at the very end. “And I can kill, sir.” It doesn’t sound entirely like a joke. And you don’t care to ask.
As you both head to your bedroom, you could hear your father starting to rant already—something about Toji’s ‘good-for-nothing manner’, the rumors, and the worries that you were rebelling. Ah, so they were on that topic already, this plan really was going better than you’d thought.
Toji snickers as you swing open the door to your room; taking in the single bed, the plush stuffies you still loved, and that framed picture of your family by your bedside table. It was customary to remain with your parents despite being of age, the only problem was that your room didn’t seem to have changed almost a single bit. He puffs out, “Cute.”
“Shut up.” Closing the door behind you, it hits you immediately that this was the first time ever that the two of you have been truly alone. Despite what facade you’d shown your parents—ever since the saloon, greeting him at the doorway, the dinner. Your small room feels even smaller with him inside.
And particularly when Toji sweeps his prickling gaze down your body, all dolled-up tonight in your best silk skirts and petticoats. Almost naturally, almost like he doesn’t even realize- he steps in.
“Keen on knowing how to really rile up yer Pa?” He asks of you, something smoky seeping into his deep baritone. And Toji’s voice was already attractive without him inadvertently sounding ruined. Sounding gone. Parched. “How to really, reeeeeally rile him up, doll?”
You gulp before you ask, “H-how?”
His eyes flick to your bed. Toji only grins.
.
.
.
“Mmm, like- like this—” Press after press. Kiss after kiss–every time Toji’s pecking your swollen cunt, it releases the loudest squelches.
And you’re whimpering, he’d dragged down your panties easily, slipping his handsome head immediately under. Toji then puckers his lips to let his scar trace your teary slope, and it departs a clammy wad of slick that glues to his throat n’ leaves his tone all husky. “Never said no ta kissing these lips- shoot, who could pass that up?”
Words shaking, voice warbling against your pussy.
He feels you gettin’ lewdly wetter at the vibrations and smacks the side of your thigh. Letting all that cute wetness weep out of your hole and leave his chin polished. “Heh, fuck- who woulda thought you were hiding the sweeetest pretty pussy underneath all those skirts, pretty lady?”
“D-don’t spank me…” You’re babbling out, more so because your flustered brain couldn’t think of anything else to say. More so because you wanted to speak- and oh, you didn’t think he wouldn’t realize, did you?
Because you swear you feel the line of his sleazy smirk grow—plastered against the puffy front of your core. “Oh, sooooooorry.” He’s dragging out, the honed tips of his fingers tracing up your legs.
They were all cute n’ trembling now; even more so when Toji reaches for the outer part of your pussy and swats you there. Making you whine- “Fuh-fuck.” Just when he soothes his ridged tongue over where he struck, where it was stinging.
“Jus’ got a lil’ excited, ya see?” He’s crooning out from your under half, scorched breaths wafting over like a fan. And it’s just making your spine thrill, your hips bucking into the touch- “I’ve been hankerin’ for something sweet after dinner- ah, no offense, ma’am.”
“Wh-what…” Mouth dropping stupidly, you’re helpless as one of his long, beefy arms reach over for the family photograph on your bedside table.
Slowly, he’s putting it face-down before nosing down your wettened slit once more. Before puckering his mean lips and spitting—thwack! It splatters across your folds like a spray, and drip-drip-driiiiips down, “What? Jealous? Want me to spit in those pretty lips, too?”
You’d forgotten to close your mouth after that last time- “Y-yes.” You pant.
And his eyes slightly widen. His jaw unhinges, and before you know it, he lurches his sculptured body from where he was kneeled by the edge of the bed. “Here-” A glittering glob of spittle lands between your mouth, splattering just to the side- even though Toji Fushiguro had perfect aim, he just needed to see you all slicked and messy for him.
“Always the good girls.”
He barely even bothers to wipe it all up before shuffling back down - finally, finally for what he’s been hungering for for so long. For ages.
Toji’s rude left set of fingers slap back down on your pussy, and it makes your legs smear apart just enough for him to shove his face nose-deep and kiss. The hottest, most open-mouthed kiss.
Immediately, his lengthy tongue is probin’ out and sticking between your flooded folds. He’s leading his tastebuds right to your orifice and swirlin’ it all around. Tasting you. Lavishing you. Like a man thirsting for water for eons, he doesn’t let even the slightest slick-filled ounce of juice escape. “Fuck- fuck. You’re so darn sweet.”
“T-Tooooji—” Your syrupy pussy was stuck to his lips, sucking just on your swollen pussy. His lips move to capture your throbbing clit and you swear you’re seeing stars—never having felt anything like this before. “F-fuck! It feels so good, ngh.”
“Yeeeah, does it?” Those noises you were making were just so loud, echoing across your walls- and he almost worries. Almost. “Then how’s this- hah, suit ya?”
Before you can formulate a second thought, his spongy tongue is then sinking inside of your cunt. Just past the tight rim of your hole, he’s thrusting his tongue in n’ out like he’s attempting to swab into every geysering crevice.
Like he’s plastering his textured tastebuds to the softest parts of your walls and feeling you mold around him - in and out in and out.
The sheer primal stretch makes your head throw back- enough so that you don’t even realize when he creeps his right hand up to latch onto your thighs. Teasingly edging the round tips of his digits to your entrance, “Hold ‘er wiiiide open f’me, doll- yeah- yeah, like that.”
“L-like this?” You’re questioning, spreading your legs apart until you feel like such a slut. But you can’t help but heed his every word, and your pussy throbs ravenously at the scrape of his thick fingers.
They were just so big. And even from this distance they looked so long n’ perfectly calloused enough so that it’d drive you wild, from all those long days out riding. Toji’s palm plants another wet slap on your cunt and he groans, “Have you- fuck- so wet.” Glazing his fingers - all the way down to his wrists - with all your sweetened sap. “How far have those cute fingers reached, pretty lady?”
“My fingers…” Your heart thumps in your chest- and between your legs as you think of all those lonely nights. And you admit, “Not that far.”
“Fuck.” Just the mere sultry confession makes Toji dry hump his hips against the springy mattress, and it sings out just as you do.
An animal act - like he didn’t even mean to do it. Like he couldn’t even control himself when he’s shutting your mouth up with another thorough push of his maw. Unfastening until the pointed edge of his chin strikes the base of your pussy, Toji swerves apart your folds until he could see that glistening hole of yours properly.
“Fuck that-” Yet again slapping the tip-top button of your clit till you’re keening. “Ya deserved that.” He lodges his firm middle finger against your entrance and snickers. “Now, reckon I oughta show ya how it’s done, proper-like.”
“Proper-like?” You gasp, feeling the stinging stretch of his middle n’ ring finger slithering inside. “Two of ‘em?”
“Mhmmm. Doll, you’ll need four before you can think of fitting me.” They felt so large n’ slimy with all your clumps of slick, pushing and pushing because you were just clenching. And the worst - more like the carnally best - part of it all was the way that Toji had moved over one of his thick, silver rings so that it was on his middle finger.
Scrapin’ around into your gummy walls, he’s hitting a few tender orifices and making you moan. Pumping in solid, bashing strikes that fill out every mass of space inside. “Gooood, huh?”
You claw onto the dampening bedsheets, the headboard, his scalp- “Yes- yes, Toooji—”
“Yeah, that’s right. Let yer Toji teach you how to finger this- hck! pretty pussy.” And just as you think he can’t make your heady mind spin any faster, he’s gluin’ another finger to the rim of your cunt.
You feel it- the circumference of his index perfectly spreading apart your bloated lips. He’s slipping it in-between his sloppy drags, just barely hooking inside and thrusting n’ thrusting. You’re completely stupid on his prolonged fingers, feeling them reach up into spots you didn’t even know existed.
And considering Toji’s size, you can’t help but arch your hips up as he keeps on tryin’ to fit in. Again and again. Lifting your spine off of the blankets like you were unsure whether you wanted to run away or—
“Ah ah, hold your horses, heh.” Only for him to stop your pursuit with his free hand gripping onto your hips. With one flex of his arms, he’s pulling you straight back down- mazing his rovering fingertips completely inside.
Toji looks down at the way your pussylips were kissing his knuckles, leaving behind a slime trail of your juices. And he sounds admiring, almost…loving. “Didn’t think I’d skimp out on such a preeeetty pussy now, did you?” Again, spitting on your cunt since he couldn’t smack it right now. “Mm-mm, this lady ‘ere deserves some loooove. And I’m gonna give it to her.”
And he does.
Oh, he does.
He doesn’t stop for even a second before twisting his flexible fingers inside you and ravaging your channel raw. Smack after smack of his mountainous knuckles slamming your core, Toji pokes his ringed fingers into the roof of your cunt and you whimper.
Tearily, “Oh, please- I don’t think I’d be able to- ngh, do it like this.” Because he was just so rough.
Just salivating over where your clit was perked up, Toji’s feral canines come n’ bite down playfully on your nub. “Pay attention now.” Smack! Yet another swat that sends specks of slick splattering across his face, his tongue was working overtime to probe into wherever you were leaking. “Because m’not gonna be nice, doll.”
And then, before you know it, Toji has his mouth wrapped over your clit—suctioning. High cheekbones hollowed out. His dexterous tongue coming out to roll over n’ over. “S’like thiiiiis and- like- hah—” The flared edges of his joint were pushin’ apart your walls with slurps, harder. “-and thiiiiis.”
Probin’ push after push, sticking into the sweetest spots of your pussy. Stretching you out- and his body moves before his mind for each rut after rut.
Just eating you out all sloppily like this was driving him insane.
He was pounding his throbbing erection into the pool of sheets below him as if it was you- as if he was wishing it was you. Hoarsely puffing out- “And then…”
Toji didn’t even have to finish his sentence before he curls his massive fingers just so to press into your g-spot. Precisely. Accurately. And oh-so-hardly.
You see stars behind your lids at the sensation running through you once he does. Arching upwards with a cry- “There- oh, there- please!”
“Oh, hellllll yeah, pretty lady.” He’s spitting between his clenched teeth- fuck, he needs to up the anté. If it could get you to act so needy like this- “You like that, huh? Feels good?”
“Yes- yes, I do, ngh, more.” You’re babbling out, your mouth starting to spray out a fountain of sploshing saliva onto the pillow underneath you. But you couldn’t help it. Every serious swerve of his digits, they were glissading across your walls and puncturing your g-spot juuuust right.
Once. Twice. Thrice. You get the distinct feeling that if his fingers could scour towards your cervix then he would.
Scarred lips unhinging further open- he’s primally flickering his tongue everywhere and anywhere he could reach. Scraping from your clit n’ all the way down to circle your hole, Toji grins when he feels the way your slick-filled cunt flutters around his fingers.
“More?” He then smacks your pussy once more, getting you to arch into him once again. Taking on an airish tone, “More- then why don’tcha ride my fingers, huh?”
Babbling away, “R-ride?” Then he’s creeping his left hand from your waist to underneath your ass. Making sure to take a good grope before actually manhandling your hips down n’ down, like tiny grinds that have you riding his face in this position. “Oh my god- oh, heavens- you sure you’re not from a ngh- hookshop-”
“Shut up and ride my face- my fingers- nghhh—” His loooong tongue flops out and elongates, trying to reach for any inch of your treacly pussy. Slotting between your pussylips and teasin’ your clit, “Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, tha’s it- sweetest fuckin’ thing.”
You’re sure your g-spot was swollen up by now, clinging onto his fingers with your sweet cloying walls. The break creaks as you gyrate upwards, “Toji, it feel s-so…”
There was a sparking in your lower belly, white-hot pleasure shooting straight up from your cunt. And you were just so sensitive each time his mouth was creeping across your clit. “Oho? Describe it.”
“Toji—” You whine, knowing just how much he was enjoying teasing you endlessly. And as he snickers with numerous slams of his maw, you somehow manage. “Feels like- ngh! something’s building up, like s’gonna- snap- fuck.”
“And how does this feel?”
“Oh—” His tongue decides to rover all over your clit again, making your legs shake at the pleasure. Slurp after slurp. He’s tuggin’ greedily on your nub like it’s gum, like he was starved for it and couldn’t even move his head backwards. “Like- like m’getting close.”
Couldn’t last a single second without his jaw unlocked to further suck you in. “Fuck-” His lips glue together with your slick, and he’s smacking them apart. Cock throbbing. Hips aching for friction. “What a sweeeeeet fuckin’ pussy, listening t’me. And a sweeter gal.”
Faster.
Just in time, Toji’s fingerpads push into your g-spot when he’s nibbling on your clit. And he moans hoarsely at the feeling of you leaking in arousal. Harder. Pump after pump, he’s stretchin’ out tiny crannies of your innards that leave you reeling. “Fuck-” He rasps, “I’d die to have ya cum on my tongue, pretty lady.” Gulping at your cunt. Rawly. “I’d- fuck, die.”
Almost like an animal, he’s moving at a more accelerated pace. Sticking his elongated tongue into every splotchy area around your pussy, trying for all his life to wriggle his way inside—
“Oh- oh my god-” Your aged bed frame is damn near screaming, and so are you. With your eardrums ringing, you turn your head in the direction of the door. Locked shut.
And Toji notices in a split-second- he’s slapping his fingers down your damp pussy to steal back all your attention. Bucking. “Worried about those ol’ folks, are ya? Don’t worry, doll, Toji’s got you.”
Spitting down your slit to make it easier for his tongue to glide into every spot, hitting your poor fragile spot so hard that you think he might just be leaving a permanent bruise. This was nothing like when you’d claw your fingers inside, Toji was accurate and rapid with his bashes- and he didn’t care if he was too noisy. If your pussy was like a damn waterfall right now.
With a lecherous sluuuuurp, he’s pulling out all three of his fingers until the knobbly end bits were just as your entrance. Stretchin’ out your tight hole, “Your Toji’s aaaalways got you, pretty lady.” Hissing through clenched teeth, he could barely even breathe at this point.
And you have half the mind to wonder whether Toji’s sharp jaw isn’t aching, plastered across your thighs. Whether his wrist doesn’t ache—but all n’ any thoughts are properly fucked out of your mind when he ends off with a final, tunneling smash of three fingers onto your g-spot. “ So cum, doll.”
You can’t stop yourself from taking his probin’ touches with your hands running through his clammy bangs, head thrown back as you topple over the edge.
Toji feels you clamping and clamping down wildly around him and pounds your pussy through each peak of your high. “P-please- ngh, don’t stop.” You wail out in whimpers, one of your hands detaching and going to your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.
And it might have been effective - if it wasn’t for the fact that he was then holding onto your shaky hands and bringing them down to him.
Pinning them down so that his burning ears could be graced with all your sing-song whines. It didn’t matter if you were loud. All that mattered was the fact that he was timing his pumping fingers precisely to the peaks of your orgasm. High after high, squelch after squelch of his rovering mouth.
His two scarred lips pinch your clit between his maw and suck, just to make your toes curl cutely even further. Thrashing at the feeling- “Ngh- ngh, yeah, fuck, m’so sensitive.”
“Awww, so sensitive.” Toji mocks- but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop. That doesn’t even mean he’s going to slow down. In fact, he’s unfastening his jaw to further flick his tongue over your cunt, even as your wave of euphoria crashes-
Nothing more than a few tingles now that make your hips bucks. “Mhmmm—f-fuck, you’re still-”
“Told ya I’ve been hankerin’ for something sweet- m’not done just yet, doll.” Pinning you down with both of his strong elbows settling down on your thighs. Plopping you open and rendering you practically immobile.
Desperately, you’re attempting to cling onto his silky black hair and push him upwards- for breath, if anything. “You- oh, fuck.”
But Toji doesn’t move a single inch. He doesn’t stop until you’re left all stupid and absent of your slicked mess, he polishes you alllllll clean with his tongue before removing himself from your quivering pussylips with a wettened plop!
And it’s everywhere.
Oh, he’d made a mess of himself just as much as he’d made a mess of you. From the daps of your juices down his throat, to the way it had formed a sheen all the way up to his cheekbones. He was drenched, dangling off of him like a syrupy adhesive. Like a medal.
Toji pushes himself up onto his knees, spread wide on top of your slick-glazed comforter.
“Such a naughty pussy.” He drawls, wiping clean the layers sploshed onto his face with his thumb. Looking you straight in the eye, he then sucks it off his fingerpad. “Curious how she’d handle my cock…”
Just then, the rest of all your silky layers and skirts are being thrown off, hitting your humble wooden floor with a few dull thumps.
Toji wastes no time letting his heavy coats hit the ground, too - he’d never admit it, but he’d worn his very best for tonight’s dinner. Scaring your sheriff father off or not. And before long, you’re staring at his toned upper physique.
It was clear that so many years out riding n’ travelling had naturally chiselled his front. All plush, bulging pecs and biceps that made you want to take a lecherous bite out of them. Toji’s abs flex when he tears off his cotton shirts, and you gulp.
You weren’t ready for him to take off his denim and boxers.
Especially not once he tucks a thumb into the elastic band of his underwear and pushes down- finding that his thin boxers were stuck to his strong thighs with a sheen of nothing but cum. Heated and formulating a darkened splotch on the fabric.
You gape, “Did you…”
He’d cum just from eating you out.
“Well, I’ll be—” Toji himself seems shocked. Pulling down his underwear to find it soaked through with wiry ribbons of cum, dribbling down each leg. As he’s taking it off, he’s snarling amusedly up at you. “And who’d fault me for it?”
“Certainly not I-”
“Certainly you.” Oh, you don’t know where to look now. “And that sweet lil’ pussy o’ yours.”
A slight line of curly black hair runs down the middle of Toji’s washboard abs, somewhat unruly where it hits the base of his cock. And oh- oh, he was just so big. Even in all the stories you’d heard, they never ever seemed to match the sheer size that Toji was boasting right about now.
Long.
Hard.
Ruby-red at the tip, gleaming with the remnant of his pre n’ cum- he gradiates into the prettiest shade of pink along his veiny shaft. Each vein puffing up until you could damn well count each throb, the direction of his upright cock swervin’ slightly leftwards in curve.
Your jaw drops as you take him in, and before you know it- your feet anchor onto the mattress. And you’re attempting to move away in primal intimidation-
“Hooooold on now-” One of his hands easily holds onto your throat, tugging you backwards with a pull of his toned biceps. He was so big n’ beefy, holding onto you like he didn’t even have to break a sweat to keep you from running. And he didn’t.
Toji ruthlessly slaps the bulbous edge of his shaft down your teary slope, drenching himself in the dripping wetness. “Where in tarnation do you think you’re goin’?”
“I-it’s-”
“Mhmm—?”
“How in blazes am I supposed to fit that?” You’re letting off a wailing whimper, your breath catching in the back of your throat as Toji simply pins you down to the bedsprings and ruts and ruts. Sandwiching his thick length between your swollen folds, he lets his flared slit just teasingly run across your clit.
Making your legs weakly open, making you moan.
And Toji snickers as he hears the lewd noise, the curved crown of his cock fitting at your orifice. “Seeee? Jus’ got to get this pretty pussy used to it- hah.”
Then he’s easing in.
And the first squeeze of your soft, velvety cunt has him gasping. His sage eyes fluttering, nearly bulging- and Toji damn near drools at the feeling of your pretty wet pussy being wrapped all around him. “See? See? Gotta get ‘er used to it and hngh, she’s gonna be suuuucking me up like- like…”
Fuck, he couldn’t even speak.
At this point, you didn’t even know who was more drunk on the smacking motions of your hips. His prominent v-line crushing your thighs, he was rutting.
He was half-thrusting, he was thumbing aside your puckered folds just to make that hole of yours gape wider. Toji was just so big that it was taking him aaaages to secure merely his mushroomy tip inside, “P-please-” You’re shifting your hips to and fro, and Toji moves along with you. You’re keeping him hostage with your weeping cunt.
He can’t help it. He’s swabbing his thick cockhead inside and watching as your eyes roll all the way to the back of your skull. “Heh, she’s got me.”
“F-fuck, more like you’ve got, mm, me.” You’re prattling out through gusts of breath. Every time you inhale, he’s rearing his hips forwards. Carnally opening you up so wide that your snug hole struggles to even clench, “It’s so big, ngh—”
“Yeah? But yer suckin’ it up so well, doll.” Grunting, Toji’s tip angles just to the side n’ makes your dewy wet walls bulge with his size.
With a hand placed on top of your stomach, he holds your hips still so he can accurately edge in. Push after push, he’s probin’ around with his orifice to find that one sweet spot all over again. “In fact…” The scarred edge of his mouth quirks up in a grin, and he leans in real close. “Why don’t we count it?”
You’re gulping, “C-count?”
Before all five of his roughened fingertips slap down on your cunt, smearin’ around the honeyed mess. “Wrong, tha’s about…” He tilts his head, looking through his bangs, “-two?”
Oh- inches. He was counting how many inches were being shuffled inside your pussy in great, mazing strokes. Toji wasn’t just pounding you with his solid length, he was holding you down so that you can take it.
No matter how much pressure was being pressed down on your lower half, he’s clawing on. And you feel his swollen tip stick against a new unopened crevice inside of you, panting out- “Th-three!”
“Theeere we have it, atta girl—” He drags his words out in a husky tone, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so drunk. Not even when he was sipping the whiskey of your town’s saloon. Pump after pump that has the coiled bedsprings creaking, and Toji gasping. “Count it- count-”
“Four–fuck!”
“Mhmmm—?”
You’re seeing stars being the depths of your eyelids, and your mouth dangles open cartoonishly at the grave strikes he was pounding your pussy with. Not even fully inside- but he still had your legs flailing around his muscular hips. “Th-that’s five?” Your entrance catches on one of his prying nerves- not only was Toji long, he was oh-so-veiny, too.
Just covered in bumpy lines that zig-zagged across your walls, he’s slimily making his way near the splotchy area of your g-spot and you whine. “Six- s-sev…what’s that for?”
“Oh, this?” In your cockdrunken haze, you’d barely even noticed that he’d managed to slip his hand up n’ up your tummy. Crawling it with the sloppy cadence of his length, his thickened thumb rests somewhere halfway up your body.
And he then presses dooooown - hard. It makes you bite back a yelp as he feels for exactly where his pointed cockhead was rovering. “Just a lil’ hah- target, pretty lady.”
“A target?” Your eyes widen.
“A target m’gonna hit—” Fuck—he was pinpointing right over the expanse of your womb, and after each thrust it had him burrowing even deeper. “Now keep countin’.”
Until tears were beading at the ends of your eyes, until your tongue was flopping out of your slobbery mouth. “But I- I don’t know if I can- ngh, take any more inches-”
“Fuck it-” It’s the last thing you hear before your positively seeing white- before you’re feeling such an intense stretch that sends shockwaves all throughout your body that you think you might just explode. You’re blinking your eyes open with a sob; coming to find that Toji had thrown your trembly legs over his shoulders as if they weighed nothing, he’d immediately beeeeeent his hulking body down until you were bowed in half.
He’d pushed you into the meanest mating press possible- his forehead against yours, his mouth panting open. Toji bottoms out. “N-nine.”
Nine entire inches- and you could feel it, too. He was pushin’ aside your gooey walls with his girth, directly hitting the back of your cervix with his globular tip. Scrape-scrape-scraping the bottom just to mark his territory—
“N-nine?” You’re blabbering out, craning up your head just to make sure that it was true. And it really was.
He had your pussylips kissin’ the curly black hairs at the bottom of his hilt, leaving a cute ring of glittering slick. Toji’s lengthy cock stuffed all the way to the base, all the way until he was striking your very womb. “Silly giiiirl, can’t even count ta, mmm, nine inches.”
You try to bawl out something answering to his musing observation - perhaps to snap back, perhaps to disagree.
But the only thing leaving your mouth is a few nonsensical whimpers once he starts up a harrowing pace, spearheading from the deepest depths of your cunt to the very end. A few slick ribbons of pre drip out of him, n’ he’s smearing the entire lot all over your pussylips- “S’alright, don’t trouble yer head about a thing, doll. Let your dear ol’ Toji hah! take care of it all.” And then over your gaping mouth. “You just sit right n’ t-take it, yeah?”
And now that he had you restrained like this, Toji can give your cunt a fat spank without you trying to run.
Letting slick dribble all down his wrist, he’s toyin’ your clit with one hand while the other tap-taps at the bullseye of your womb. “Let me do it- mmmm.” Hit after hit, he was just too thorough with his primal strokes. They were knocking into every hidden cranny and stretching out your walls until you felt dizzy. “Yeah- yeah yeah, let me do it allllll, pretty lady.”
“Please- Toji- I- oh.” You manage to string together - and it makes no sense. Your spine arches into his incredibly flexed core, feeling each chiselled ab and muscle underneath your touch.
“Chehhh…” His mouth departs a sudden gasp, hot n’ heavy. He’s suddenly taking in the way your dilated pupils kept on crossing, just how out of control you seemed to be of your actions, your words. It’s hitting him that you’ve been completely dumbified, and the realization makes his rock-hard cock twitch. Flinching.
Spurting out wet wads of pre that latch onto every inch of your walls. Almost giggling- his tone hitches, he sounds almost delirious. “S-so stupid on my cock without even finding the g-spot yet.” Another spank on your cunt, though you feel the ends of his digits tremble. Shattered. “You really are a naughty girl- wanna h-help me, mmm, make her even stupider on my cock?”
“Who are you- oh.” Talking to your pussy.
He’s got his greedy gaze permanently attached to your suctioning cunt, each swab of his length leaving it fluttering. “C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon-”
And then he isn’t just fucking you furiously- he’s stirring his plump, veined cock around. Letting the prolonged shaft bump into your every nook in slight circles, he’s gyrating just to make sure that he doesn’t leave a single spot unturned.
“C’moooooon, doll–” Toji sputters, a thin line of sweat falling down the side of his face. And oh, he’s so focused, it’s unintentionally sexy. The way he’s managing to map out every inch inside you- “Where- is- fuck. Was right here, ain’t that right?”
Then he presses his thumb down on the line of his mazing cock, pressurizing his length inside of you. “Y-yes!”
“Mhmm—” Every second means three precise swats inside of you, the cherry-red globe of his girth hungry to find your favorite area. “Then where- is- fuck!”
You clench. You clench Toji’s aching hot cock so hard that he’s throwing his head back with a groan, his entire muscular body pressing into yours. The weight of his lower half rests on your cunt, and he’s fucking smirking as he realizes just what that means. “Found it.”
You feel the slick-flooded divot at the very end of his cock run up n’ down your g-spot for a few seconds. Just feeling. Just teasing.
Before he properly smashes that cute bundle of nerves in- “O-oh!” You’re babbling away, your hands start to dig into his back and claw at his clammy flesh. “Oh yeah, more- more-”
“Keep doing that- ohhhh, keep doing that.” Toji hisses through his pearly white canines- he’s moving so animalistically. Long, hard strokes from the weepy red end of his cock all the way to the bulky base. Almost as if he wasn’t even the one in control. Almost as if he was fucking you on pure feral instinct. “Feels t-tooooo fucking good- hah, reckon that feels good for you, too, huh?”
“Yes- yes—” And it did- enough so that you’re flattening your heels on the mattress and springing up to meet his sloppy staccato.
“Yeah? Then let’s see if you can spell my name, pretty lady.”
Your eyes bulge at his sultry suggestion, looking at the sweat n’ slick-soaked sheets around you in confusion. “S-spell it- but how?”
“M’serious, hah.” Manhandling you. Toji then swiftly slides one of his mean palms underneath your papping hips, only needing to use one hand to push you slightly up n’ down.
Like this, he’s controlling the grinding motions of your body. Deltoids flexing as he does, veins popping all over his muscles. He manages to grope your ass, slightly swervin’ your cunt around so that your hips spell- “See- that’s a ‘T’- fuck, again, doll-”
“Oh my god- fuck-” You can only attempt to lean your strength back down on your lower half and attempt to follow his directions. Follow the way that he was moving you.
Toji’s sharp teeth peek out as he’s stirring your hips, and the angular movements just feel so good with his girthy cock being lodged inside you. The looooong circular pattern of spelling out an ‘O’ letting his bulbous tip bludgeon your cervix expertly. “Yeahhhh, that’s an ‘O’- ngh, yeah. Want a biiig ‘O’ f’me-”
“Then- then it’s…”
“Mhmmm—” He laughs in a husky way, the straight line of his nosebridge crinkling ever-so-slightly at the way you’re struggling to put together the spelling of his name with your fuzzy brain.
Sweat starts beading down his arms at the exertion, and by now you’re starting to see that the muscles on Toji’s pelvis were starting to burn bright red at the impacts. The constant beating. He strains to thoroughly push his drivelling divot up against your g-spot, and moves your hips ‘round. “That’s a ‘J-’ and an ‘I’...”
That last one ended up being just the most plump, puckered push of his entire length - all the way from tip to hilt.
But of course that’s the one he’s dragging out the most. Mockingly furrowing his dark brows, and looking down at you with a tut. “Now now, pretty lady- reckon we can do better than, mmm, that.”
“I-I’m trying for- fuck!” Your chin stomps your chest, and you’re being bent in half. Doing your very, very best to keep up with Toji’s ruthless pace.
He’s making fun of you for being unable to properly follow his directions- to properly drag out that ‘I’ when you don’t think you can even breathe. You can’t even talk.
You can’t do anything but melt like putty in his hands, whining when his rough right thumb slides down your slope. He squeezes between your folds and presses down on that cute lil’ clit like a button, “C’mon- do one better fer me, doll. I know you can.”
“B-but-”
And even harder.
“Wha’s that?”
And you don’t manage to get out a word—you don’t even try. Because you only hike your clawing hands up to Toji’s buff deltoids, holding him in place so that you can perk your hips off the bed and slam them down onto his.
Making the bedroom ring with the stinging sound of skin-on-skin, he then holds you in place with his pulsing cockhead pushing deeeep into your cervix.
Leaving you squirming, Toji’s glued his hips to yours for a few seconds before huffing out- “‘I-I’ Tha’s the name, pretty lady. Pleasure ta meet ya—”
With a sudden bang, he has one hand thumped down on your headboard above you. And he’s got his length banging into you wildly, not leaving a single spongy surface untouched, not letting off a single thrust where his puffy veins don’t graze your g-spot.
The zaps of pleasure bubbling in your veins feel so good that you’re practically sobbing, holding onto his sculptured body for dear life. “Yer getting close, huh?” Toji suddenly seethes, “Aren’tcha? Sooo close- Can feel it-”
He could feel each throb.
He could feel each clench.
And he could feel each bead of slick that sprayed out of you like you were about to explode, “Can feel it in this cute cunt and- nghhh, she jus’ wants to cum.” His rude lips lean over and kiss away your streaming tears, whispering into your heated skin, “S’okay—you can c-cum f’me, pretty lady- I’ll help you.”
His thumb was fully stuck between your pussylips and rolling over your clit at a ruthless pace. Faster. Harder. Sloppier.
He was fucking you like he needed you to cream on his cock. Not just want - need.
It was driving your vocals into a frenzy each time he drew a gluttonous lil’ heart on top of the perked nub. “Cum, doll.” As you buck your hips wildly, Toji spits. “Cum all o-over my cock—-” And you nearly remember what he told you about his manners. But he still utters- “-please?”
And you do - white-hot sparks startling your vision, tears glistening down your cheeks. And Toji fucks you through it with honed jackhammers, he’s driving your high through each part of your body like a madman.
Spark after spark. Hit after hit.
Your toes curl at the feeling, it’s better than any other orgasm that you could’ve given yourself. “Please- please-” And your ears pop with the pressure, with the tingling feeling of his veins swabbing your every orifice.
“Mhmm— what manners, whaddya want, doll?” He puffs out into your agape maw, fully elongating your orgasm. Even once the highest of your peaks have begun to face, Toji’s drilling you through it. Push after push. “Tell me- fuck, anything, ngh-”
“Wan’ it inside, Toji.” You’re babbling out, fluttering your lashes. “Please?”
“Oh, fuck…”
And it’s the last thing you hear him echo- the last time you think you even hear him breathe before his pants suddenly catch, before he throws his head back and cums. Sparks of his high splattering out in wads of seed, he’s filling you up like he’s spraying out a jetstream.
Thick, webbed clumps of sap that stick either side of your walls together. You squirm as he’s stuffing you full, feeling the mess splosh ‘round inside of you.
Cumming just from that - fuck, he has to convince himself that it’s because of the oversensitivity, because of the- oh, who’s he kidding. It’s all because of you.
“T-Toji- mmpf-”
And then it’s happening - then he’s kissing you. Gasping in a sudden breath as if he was just as surprised at you at the romantic gesture. It just feels so perfect, his soft lips slotted over yours, his lungs grunting out after each thrust.
It’s just everywhere.
Sheening down your sugary walls, bulging out of every orifice inside. And it’s drawin’ the rawest, most sloppy ring around his base, dribbling milky white sap down his shaking thighs. You moan as you feel it create a puddle underneath you, sticking to every inch of skin like glazed glue.
Toji’s creamy, split-ended tip pushes aside the dollops of his cum and hits the end of your cervix and he throws his head back. Fucking it deep into you- “Toji’s here, Toji’s got you, Toji’s- f-fuck—”
“Please-” Melting into the hot, open-mouthed kiss. He kisses you and he kisses you. His palm tightens on top of the headboard at the mere sound of your pretty whining voice.
Splintering.
Cracking.
It makes the both of you snap your heads up in unison, gasping. You both broke the bed. “Reckon we- fuck, taught ‘em a lesson they won’t soon forget, huh?” Toji manages to gurgle out, still not stopping the never-ending dab of his cockhead.
Sopping wet and bruising your cunt now. Raw. Red.
He weeps out a final few overstimulated swabs, letting your clingy walls suck out whatever was left of his cum. “Mhmm— sure do r-reckon.”
“Well now…” And oh- you knew that tone. That tone was what had you bent like this in the first place, getting pounded until you were dizzy. Toji blinks his teary eyes and gives you a final, innocent peck. Grinning against your mouth- “-ever wanted to shut up those busybody neighbors o’ yours?”
Then his cock plunges—straight from your starting rim, to whack the bottom of your overspilling pussy once more.
“O-oh.”
.
.
.
“So…”
Toji raises a brow at the barkeeper, Shiu, and the way he’d been repeating that same conversation starter just about five times tonight. As if hoping for something.
Gruffly, he slams his empty shot glass down. “For fuck’s sake, if ya got somethin’ ta say then say it t’me straight.” It was late evening by now, and the saloon was in full swing- so it wouldn’t matter if there was a scene or two, really. It was natural.
Shiu throws down a dirty rag, “Now don’t go playin’ the fool- care to explain what ruckus you stirred with the sheriff’s daughter before?” As Toji gapes his mouth ever-so-slightly, “It’s all folks ‘ave been talking about in the saloon- nay, the whole town.”
“Meddlin’ townsfolk.” He only grunts.
Shiu snorts, “Yeah? Won’t be ‘round these parts any longer then, I reckon?”
“Actually…” The other man doesn’t know what makes him stall more - the slight, tentative seriousness in Toji’s voice, or the way that you’re walking in through those dusty swinging doors right this very second. Capturing the attention of the drunkards, the staff, and most of all—Toji. “I’ve been ridin’ long, lately I’ve been looking for a place to lay my hat.”
“To settle?”
“To settle. Here.”
“Well, I’ll be…” Shiu whistles, at both his confession and the way you’re striding towards them. Not fast enough, apparently, because in a split-second Toji has his rope out to lasso you to his side, seating you down on his lap snugly.
He swears the entire saloon balks. Singing withering, pints frozen in midair, bar fights halted just to stare.
You swat at Toji’s toned chest playfully, “Didn’t I warn you? My father’s sure to bust a conniption.”
“Worth it.”
“What ruckus have you gone an’ actually stirred?” Shiu repeats his question from before, more serious this time - and somewhat bemused, too.
And Toji takes over smoothly, “Aye, let me introduce ya. Pretty lady, this is Shiu—worst barkeep ya ever will meet.” And as Shiu shakes your hand, and lets Toji rattle off your name–“-my fiancée.”
He drops a glass. “F-fiancée?”
Someone in the saloon flips a table, whether by accident or because they were all eavesdropping, they’ll never know.
But Toji only nods proudly, a smug smile on his handsome face. “My fiancée. We’re fixin’ for a wedding come spring- if ‘er old man agrees that is.” He rolls his verdant eyes, “If not, we’ll just skip town and tie the knot, heh.”
“We will get his blessing.” You insist.
The noise in the saloon resumes - though, this time it’s the chatter of folks discussing this newest piece of gossip, the thumps on Toji’s back in congratulations, the occasional sob, and the debates on baby names. It was in uproar. Louder than before.
[a little blurb about Nightwing and his girl testing
!TW! Porn w/ no plot, freaky ahh Dick, i just KNOW he hits it rough
“Di—unngh!”
You were slobbering into the pillows, hair all static from the friction his thrusts created against the fabric.
Nightwing, otherwise known as Dick Grayson, had his girlfriend sprawled on the couch, face down, and head smushed to the side of the velvet cushion.
“Yeah, I fucking knew you’d like this shit—hah— saw it in a -shit- porno, knew it was s-ugh- hot.”
His voice was panting and raspy, occasionally broken up by pants, one arm grasping their wrists behind their back. His skin was getting irritated from being clawed at every other day! -wether or not that’s his fault is a different question.
“S—s’too—m—!” You panted out, wrists and hands flexing as his hips constantly pounded into your pussy.
You were cut off by a cool finger pad that quickly slid between your legs, rubbing circles against your clit, and his red tip kissing your cervix with an intensity nobody else could replicate.
“Too much? He laughs with a breath, you could feel him grinning from behind you, his teeth scraping up your nape to the bottom of your hairline. He lets go of your wrists, wrapping his arm around your neck, now drooling onto his forearm, eyes rolling back with the delirious sensation of asphyxiation.
The drag of his thick head against your walls had you clawing at the pillows for dear life, back arching as he rutted into you, angling himself to make sure you felt every. Single. Inch.
His hand moved from your clit to your lower stomach, pushing down against your skin as you cried out, fucked stupid, offically gone. The creamy sound of his dick against your sweet, sweet walls was too much, as you let out a final cry.
“Dick- m- m’cumm—!”
He groans, and moments laters, pulls out, spilling all over your ass.
“Good shit.” He sighs, head thrown back, and covered in sweat. He looked so good you were almost ready for round two. Almost.
He pats your ass with a delirious grin. Most definitely pussy drunk, collapsing forward on you entirely.
girl I don't even know if any of these are cohesive, I just have this collection as one big Pinterest folder. (I love my man Lulu Hamilton) I've been told it's "city girl", and then I was told is "Sade aesthetic" but i feel like city girl doesn't fit, and after listening to some of Sade's song and lyrics, that feels wrong as well. I love this mix of earthy colors, urban luxury, and jazz.
lil whimpers groans and blabbers while he bullies his cock into you as his mushroom tip bruises your cervix
Would def have a breathy ‘fuck’ ‘prettiest lil cunt ive seen’ ‘uhg- ahh’ ‘gonna ruin ya fer any other guy’ ‘feel so good roun’ me’ ‘such a slut- gushin all over this dick’
100% jealous fucker.
‘That shit could never make you feel this good huh?’ ‘Cmon baby, tell me how good im makin you feel’ ‘gotta tell me how you- fuckk- feel if ye wanna cum pretty girl’ ‘best dick youve ever had in yer life ehh?’
dededos
germansingergirl
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
