"Nuh uh, pretty boy. You wanna own a fake pussy? Use it."
Satoru was a mess on top of you. His white hair was askew, some strands plastered to his sweat-slicked forehead. In front of your own glistening pussy, you held a silicone toy, to which his cock — hard and leaking— was squelching in and out of at a shaky pace.
The toy was obscene, a crude imitation of a woman's lower half with fleshy pink skin and two openings Satoru had explored very thoroughly before. It had been tucked behind all of his clothing within his wardrobe, just waiting to be discovered by you — and it had.
Satoru's hips snapped into the fake hole, the headboard you were propped up against thudding against the wall incessantly.
Honestly, it wasn't the worst thing in the world to find hidden among his things — but how could you pass up on an opportunity to tease the living hell out of him?
"Please let me fuck you. Please please pleaasee, it doesn't feel the same," Satoru gasped out, chest heaving as his hips moved on their own. His cock speared through the toy, its pussy lips splitting as his balls plapped against the curve of its ass.
As much as you wanted to throw the toy away and hike your knees against your chest, you simply smiled at the man — coy and mean. "Not the same as what, 'toru?"
He threw his head back — voice cracking as the pace of his thrusts stuttered. "Not the same as your-your pussy."
Tears clung to his lashes, precum and lube frothing at the base of his aching cock. It dripped down, tugging and snapping when Satoru's thighs met the base of the toy.
"Poor baby," you cooed, tone mocking as you rolled your hips enough to feel the silicone brush up against your clit. "Should have thought about that before you bought this in the first place, hmm?"
Satoru choked out a sob, nodding as his hips drove in over and over — until his tip was flushed red and the veins on his cock were plump and angry. "I-I didn't think— ngh, I'm sorry—"
"Sorry doesn't cut it. You really bought this thinking it'd feel like my pussy? 'n now look at you, crying 'cus you can't have it."
The heat in Satoru's body grew tenfold, the degradation proving to be far greater pleasure than what the toy could ever give him. The tears fell as his balls seized repeatedly, orgasm rapidly approaching as your fingers kneaded into the toy's hips.
"I'll throw it out," he promised, drool gathering at the corner of his lips and meeting where his cock thrusted into. Satoru's cock continued to throb almost violently, the toy sucking him in until his release finally dangled right in front of him.
And then you pulled the toy off of him.
Satoru came, knuckles whitening as he bucked his hips into the empty air.
The thick, hot spurts of cum shot out of him, body twitching as he painted your body in pearly white. It coated your stomach, your thighs, splattered against your chin as he slumped forward. Broken whines left the man, muscles spasming as his hands fumbled for you.
"Just ask next time, baby," you murmured, Satoru's head pressing against your stomach as you raked your fingers through his mop of hair. "I'm right here."
Thought about you whilst writing this @cupidstrace
hii bex !! ive been a fan of your work since 2020 and i have a vivid memory of u streaming as well maybe it was a fever dream or my brain is just mush BUT !! i just wanna say ur fics are scrumptious and amazing and i hope ure having an amazing new year <33
HIIIIII!! youve been here since the beginning???🥺🥺🥺 I LOVEEE YOUUUU such i wouldn’t be here without you!!!!!!!! i hope your new year brings all the things you wish to accomplish i’m kissing u on ur forehead
those hands and those stupid tattoos… i can’t…this is a DISEASE😩😩 it’s the way i can picture that little shudder n groan when his head falls back cause hes getting into it UGHHHHHHHH
sukuna’s never really gotten jealous—he just gets off.
maybe that’s why he lets gojo turn his girlfriend into a group project.
word count: ~4.3k
⊵ pairing: fratboy!sukuna x f.reader x fratboy!gojo
⊵ cw: cuck!sukuna. (so threesome but not rlly), dubcon, drugs and alcohol (in their weed era), reader is under da influence, frat boyz gone wild, oral (f.receiving), semi-public sex (in the backyard at a party but lowkey i forgot there was a bonfire), actual sex (f. receiving).
On friday nights, there’s nothing more peak than a frat house at its busiest. But maybe thats the weed talking, or the bass reverberating in your chest.
The air is thick where you’re tucked into Sukuna’s neck, heavy with sweat and alcohol and the acrid smoke from the bonfire blazing behind you. You hum along mindlessly, back to the world on one of the old musty couches wasting away in the backyard.
Sukuna doesn’t take you to these things very often. Mostly because he hates sharing your attention, but tonight he seemed just as intent on showing you off. He hadn’t let you stray far from his lap since you got there, chest to chest while he feeds you so much weed you can’t even remember your own name.
The ring of couches around the make-shift firepit blur together when you sit up, looking down at him expectantly. Red eyes blink up at you and you smile back, dazed and pleading.
Sukuna chuffs something soft, sucking in from the joint between his fingers before feeding the smoke into your open mouth. You suck it down greedily, inhaling until your lungs threaten to give out and you’re sputtering the rest across his face.
The sight makes him chuckle and he tugs you to his chest, leaning forward to flick the roach into the flames behind you. He lifts his head, chin hooking over your shoulder to watch whatever commotion was happening on the back porch.
It’s silent for a moment. Peaceful, almost.
Aside from the fact the fog in your mind is driving you a little insane. you're too close— too gone to stop the lazy roll of your hips against him and Sukuna's eyes flick to you, smirk sharpening when he leans back to get a good look at you. his hands tighten on your hips. “You’re so fucked up, huh?”
You nod, positively shameless, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you chase the friction again, letting out a shaky breath.
Sukuna’s hands slide up the backs of your thighs, guiding your movement.
“He’s been looking at you like that all night.” He mutters, and the words take a second to process.
You raise your head from his chest. “Who- like what?”
His chin tips over to the bustling beer pong table on the back porch. At first your eyes follow his nod lazily, running over the shapes in motion to the loud laughter and clatter of cups but it all blurs together. But then you catch sight of white hair, gleaming in the fire light.
Your gaze drags up: black jeans and a ridiculous ‘kiss the cook’ t-shirt.
And then
Blue—
Gojo’s already looking at you, and the smile on his face turns up real slow when your eyes meet.
Your breath pauses against your will, heart knocking around in your chest for a second and you find yourself almost forgetting your perched in the lap of another man.
Fuck, he’s hot.
Across the fire, Gojo doesn't shy away from being caught. He doesn’t blink— just watches, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.
It pulls a weird feeling from you. You’re freaked out, but also so entranced by his pretty fucking face you can’t seem to look away. The fire roars and you shift against Sukuna without thinking, a curious sound slipping from you.
The sudden friction sends trickles of pleasure through your veins, and the buzz of your high easily drowns out the presence of an audience. Sukuna laughs softly at the display, voice low in your ear. “You gonna give him a show, huh?”
Oh— it catches you off guard. but Sukuna doesn’t sound angry, he doesn’t sound bothered at all, in fact. His grip is lax, so unlike how he is during any other time he catches a man looking at you. Hell, he tried to kill a guy just for asking for your notes.
You shake your head, not trusting the words to come out. Your throat feels so full of cotton but the idea of him watching— of anyone watching— makes the heat start pooling in your stomach. You know they probably can’t see; not unless they’re looking for you, but the thought turns your spit to ash in your mouth.
“‘Kuna…” You mumble, breathless.
“Needy fucking girl,” He grids out, shifting his hips to cant up into you. Your skirt pools behind you, graciously hiding the unmistakable damp spot you’re soaking into his sweats. “You need me that bad? Gonna rub on me like that in front of everyone?”
“Mhm.” You murmur, world narrowing down to to this-- to Sukuna, to the languid pace you’re dragging against him. “S’good, ‘Kuna.”
But he doesn’t answer, so you frown, following his gaze and your stomach flips when you see why it’s elsewhere. Gojo is still watching, tongue darting out to lick his lips when he catches your eye. The beer pong game behind him grows rowdy, loud, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
And then, as if a lightbulb flicks on over his head, Gojo pushes off the railing.
You can’t look away as he slinks through the crowd, people parting easily as if the world belongs to him. The laughter dims to something softer the closer he gets. You know you should look away, but you’re stuck like a fly in a web.
“He-” You pause, ice churning in your stomach, “He's not coming over here is he?”
Sukuna doesn’t answer, Gojo's actions are clear enough. By the time he’s almost breaching the ring of couches, you can practically taste the thump of your heart.
“Let me off!” You hiss, hands finding Sukuna’s chest. You try to push yourself up; to save yourself the embarrassment of being seen like this but he anchors you down, easily placating your thrashing.
Gojo stops just short of the couch, fire painting his back orange. Your eyes flit to the side, guilty, like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.
“Gojo.” Your boyfriend drawls, his voice edged with something deliberate— something amused. It makes your eyes narrow because you know that voice. It’s the sleazy one he uses when he gets you alone— when you’re trying to study and he can’t keep his hands to himself and—
“Sukuna,” Gojo greets, head tipping in a nod. “Looks like y’all are having fun.”
“Fuckin’ pervert.” Sukuna grins. His hands slide under your skirt, palming your ass like he owns it. Warmth trickles through you, it’s so embarrassing that you swat at his shoulder, head ducking to escape the shame. “Real pretty, isn’t she?”
“More than pretty.” Gojo’s head tips back, a smile curling at his lips. “Shame you keep her all to yourself.”
A laugh rumbles from Sukuna’s chest, but it’s less like humor and more like a dare. “You wouldn’t know what to do with her.”
Gojo's shades slip just low enough to flash that piercing blue, and god it’s 1am and pitch black but the sight is obscene.
You’re so fucked.
You can’t move— can’t speak, pinned down by those eyes without so much as a word. your blood turns to syrup, heart pounding.
“Your girl seems a little needy Sukuna, you gonna help her out?”
Sukuna barely spares a glance at you, testing, and you can’t help but immediately avert your eyes, mouth twitching.
His grip tightens, because of course he catches it. So that’s how you’re gonna play it.
“Be my guest.” Sukuna’s words startle a surprised noise out of you, but he doesn’t so much as look at you, eyes locked on Gojo. The grin on his mouth is wolfish.
Your head snaps up. “I— what?”
Before you can protest, Sukuna’s fingers are digging into your ass and he’s steering you like you weigh nothing in his lap. You find yourself immediately going pliant under his grip because yeah you’ll let him mold you into whatever shape he wants. Sukuna turns you easily away from him, and the world tilts for a minute before your spine presses into his chest and your legs are parted.
He guides them over his broad thighs and the stretch of his knees bracketing you open is immediate. You’re locked there, molded to the shape of him by heavy hands on your hips.
It feels shameless and you’re stuck with nowhere to go, caged against his body.
Gojo drops to his knees without question, and you make a soft, confused noise.
There’s a brief moment of silence, loaded as Sukuna considers Gojo, and then he’s lifting your skirt and fuck this is really happening.
A squeal leaves your mouth, and you try to hurry and knock your knees together. “Sukuna you- you can’t be serious?!"
One of his hands slides along your spine until he cuffs it around the back of your neck. the hold is possessive, claiming.
Like a scruffed kitten, it drags you right out of your thoughts and right back into Sukuna’s lap. He raises an, eyebrow, grinning “You saying no to me?”
God you don’t want to— you really don’t want to. But this feels wrong, so wrong you feel like they both must be losing their minds and this is the only possible explanation—
“I-” Your hesitation is all it takes for Sukuna to laugh, reaching up to flick your ear. The second your legs relax your body starts trembling. You can’t help but look away.
“That’s what I thought.”
You try to bite back something snarky but when your head is turned by Sukuna’s massive palm, there’s nothing you can do because Gojo’s mouth is already on yours. He swallows whatever you attempt to say, running his tongue across the seam of your lips until they part and you can’t do anything but sit there and take it.
Gojo kisses like he means to fucking swallow you, but Sukuna’s hand clamping down tight on your nape has you locked in place. You can’t help but keen when he forces you closer, licking into your open mouth.
His hands find your hips, tugging you a bit closer to the edge of the couch and further from Sukuna’s lap and Gojo groans something guttural when you grab a fistful of hair and tug. There’s a breath where you separate, and the fog over your head clears a little bit and shame immediately fills its space.
”Fuck,” Sukuna mutters into your hairline before you can speak, wrenching your head back. “So fucking pretty.”
Sukuna kisses you with more teeth and tongue than anything else; tastes copper in his mouth when your teeth sink into his lip and groans when you tug it.
There’s a kiss pressed to your jugular, and Gojo pauses there for a moment before you’re gasping for air and he immediately finds your lips again. You choke on a disbelieving laugh and Gojo groans against you. “Wanted you since I fucking saw you, gorgeous fucking girl.”
Sukuna noses along your jaw and arousal flushes through you— mixes with the alcohol and burns like fire through your blood. It’s hard to breathe, hard to focus through the flaring in your stomach and Gojo decides to finally touch.
Your eyes slam shut, unable to watch as fire burns through your veins. Your chest tightens at the first brush of his fingers until Sukuna tilts your head just enough for you to get the message. You crack an eye open to find Gojo watching, waiting, his fingers twitching where they slide up your thighs.
They pause for a moment, hovering over the lace he can feel at the apex of your thigh, so close to where you want him the most. His other hand slides to the hem of your skirt, lifting it just enough to give him better access.
He groans at the sight, dragging the tip of his thumb over the damp spot darkening your underwear.
The sensation forces a whimper out of you, and you can’t hide the shiver that races down your spine. The tension in your stomach coils tight, thick and unbearable. Sukuna’s voice is a low rumble in your ear. “She wet, Gojo?”
Your hips twitch uncontrollably. God you hate when he talks about you like you’re not there but it’s so hot you can’t help it. His hands keep you spread, grounded as you tilt towards him, arching into it.
Gojo’s eyes flick up, locking with Sukuna’s over your shoulder. The grin that slides across his face is sleazy.
“Yeah,” He murmurs, voice thick with amusement. His thumb presses down firmer, drawing out another one of those whines. When his eyes eventually flick up through those pretty lashes, he isn’t even looking at you. “She's trembling.”
Sukuna chuckles at that, digging his nails into the back of your neck. “She always does when she wants it real bad.”
“Fuck.” Gojo swears softly, dropping his forehead to your knee with a low groan. He laughs at himself, but it’s strained. “You’re killing me.”
Your stomach knots in shame, but it mixes with how horny this is making you and really it all feels the same in the end.
“Sitting so pretty. You gonna let me taste her?” Gojo says, smile turning into something sharper— hungry. He doesn’t even look at you, gaze focused over your shoulder. “Promise ill behave.”
You make a soft, startled sound, curling back towards Sukuna.
“What’s wrong?” Sukuna rumbles like he’s amused. “Don’t want it?”
“We’re outside…” You murmur, swallowing. It’s hard to breathe, but your resolve sounds weak even to your own ears. You want it— want it so bad you’re choking on all of the spit building up in your mouth, but you can’t admit it. Not to him of all people.
“Nobody's paying attention.” Gojo murmurs breathlessly, hands sliding up your thighs, but Sukuna knows better than to fall for your bashfulness. He roll rolls his eyes, leveling you with a judgmental look.
“You’ve never cared before.”
You look away, bashful, because you know that he’s right. You’ve done worse things than just flash your underwear on this couch.
"'Kuna—”
“Whatever,” Sukuna’s hand knots in the unruly curls at your nape, wrenches it back and forces you to meet his eyes. “Just shut up and let Gojo lick that pretty pussy, okay?”
It burns, hearing such filthy words come out of his mouth. It makes you look down at Gojo— whose hands are firm on your thighs but his fingers are twitching, flexing and kneading like it’s taking every ounce of self restraint he can muster not to take.
The sight makes your thighs quiver, shaking where they’re perched on Sukuna. You can’t say no. You don’t want to say no. This is all feeding into some weird fucked up fantasy you’d never thought could come to life.
You nod, swallowing thickly as you lay back against Sukuna’s chest. “Okay,” You murmur, “Yes. Okay.”
It doesn’t take more than that. Gojo moves like a man starving— fingers digging into your thighs, nails scraping skin as he darts forward with a desperation you’ve never seen. they find the lace of your panties and yank before he’s burying his face into your cunt with abandon.
He doesn’t waste any time, licking a broad stroke from your opening to your clit and it knocks the breath out of you. But Gojo doesn’t let up—doesn’t give you a second to adjust— just slurping and swallowing until you can’t even think straight. He whines into your pussy, nosing at your clit while he mindlessly drinks everything you have to offer.
Your thighs twitch instincts screaming about how wrong this is but Sukuna’s hands are iron around your knees, forcing you open while Gojo licks at your cunt and chases all the thoughts from your head. His chest is firm at your back, voice molten in your ear. “See, that’s not so bad, is it?”
It isn’t. It’s so good it’s unbearable. every flick of his tongue has your whole body thrumming with energy.
Gojo noses at your clit then follows with his mouth, messy and loud. His moans vibrate through you, every flick of his tongue making your hips jerk against him. You paw uselessly at his head, unsure whether to push him away or draw him in closer. He ruts his face into you, slurping like a man starved.
“Fuck,” Sukuna pants into your ear. You can feel how hard he is against your back. “Look at you. So fucking slutty.”
Your vision blurs when Gojo drags two fingers through the mess he’s making and pushes them inside of you without any warning, curling them in a way that’s almost cruel. You gasp, back arching at the sudden stretch and Gojo moans into your cunt like he’s the one getting fucked.
Your boyfriend hums low in his throat, grip tightening on your thighs. “Quit squirmin’.”
Gojo’s fingers are relentless— tongue dragging against you in sharp little licks until your stomach knots so tightly it feels like you can’t breathe. You try to twist away, overwhelmed, but Sukuna cages you back in.
Your orgasm hits you without warning, searing through you. You jerk against him, cunt tightening around his fingers but Gojo doesn’t relent, desperate to wring out every drop. Your cry cracks into Sukuna’s chest, nails digging into his arms but he only laughs, holding you open.
Gojo doesn’t let you leave anyways, slides his hands near Sukuna’s just in case.
“Wait-wait!” You manage, voice caught between a gasp and a squeal.
You try to wriggle away, to escape the overwhelming pleasure but Sukuna holds you in place, palms braced pressed under your knees. Gojo chases every move you make away from him— forcing you right back onto his mouth even when you cry out for mercy, pawing uselessly at the hair slicked to his forehead.
“Quit running.” Sukuna teases, licking the tears from your cheek.
Your body betrays you—hips twitching up into his seeking mouth, cunt grinding into his tongue no matter how you try to twist away. The pleasure is sharp enough to hurt, tipping into something you can’t hold, something breaking you open from the inside.
Your thighs twitch uncontrollably, feet slipping against his back, but Sukuna holds you tighter. His fingers dig bruises into your skin as he forces your knees impossibly wider, until you’re split open and helpless while Gojo devours you.
Every second is too much. Not enough. Every flick of his tongue, every hungry drags another cry out of you. Your body keeps responding, keeps betraying you, keeps coming until you don’t even know where one orgasm ends and the next begins.
“Please,” You heave, voice a rasping whine, but you don’t know if you’re begging for more or for less. "Please.”
The tears sting your eyes before you know they’re there, blurring your vision and spilling down your cheeks as another orgasm rips through you, jagged and overwhelming. A sob breaks from your throat and you clutch at Gojo’s hair, pulling, pushing, shaking like a leaf in his grasp.
Gojo groans into you, the sound muffled and wet, and the vibration makes you jolt hard enough to knock your head back against Sukuna’s shoulder. It’s inescapable— the pleasure doesn’t ebb, doesn’t fade. Instead, it drags, relentless, as Gojo’s tongue flicks mercilessly at your clit.
When Sukuna finally grabs a fist full of that pretty white hair and yanks him away from your throbbing cunt. His face is soaked, chin shiny with spit and your cum but he still looks like he’s starving.
All Gojo does is let out a pitiful groan, eyes fogged over and hazy, hips pitch against your ankle, cock painfully hard where it's pressing into you.
“Can I fuck her?” Gojo pleads, almost babbling, grinding his cock into your leg like an overgrown dog. He's breathless, laying a hand over the tent in his jeans, hissing at the pressure it must relieve.
The idea sends heat ripping down your spine and Sukuna snorts when your legs twitch at the idea, pressing a kiss into your temple. His hands tighten under your knees, pushing them a little closer to your chest. He hums thoughtfully, “Maybe you should ask her yourself.”
Gojo finally looks at you, so unlike himself but Sukuna has always had that affect on you, too. His eyes are glazed like he’s somewhere far away but he bucks his hips desperately into you, eyes wide and searching. His brows furrow, a frown forming like a petulant child.
“Can I fuck you?” He tries, choking on the words. “I can make you feel so good. I promise.”
You pretend to consider it, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
“Maybe…” You begin, lip wobbling. Your eyes are damp— sticky with tears and your thighs shake helplessly where Sukuna has them pinned to your tummy. The heat feels like it’s swallowing you whole, burning its way through your veins and on every exhale all you can think of is the hunger raging in your chest. “Just a little.”
"Just a little, she says.” Sukuna laughs, deep and throaty, laying a quick smack on the side of your thigh and you yelp, jolting with the impact. He doesn't acknowledge you, leering down at Gojo. “How does that sound, huh? think you can handle just a little?”
You whine, hips wriggling and Sukuna sends you a scolding look. Desperate, his eyes seem to say, and you give him a breathless smile, unabashed.
“Just a little,” Gojo promises eagerly. His eyes are dazed when he finally stumbles to pulls his cock out and god is it it pretty. Long and curved and flushed the prettiest shade of red at the tip.
Sukuna let’s you slide a little bit further out of his lap, further towards Gojo’s awaiting arms and he surges up to wrap a hand around your hip. It’s almost over with the second he shuffles up into a crouch, rubbing his cock through your folds, slick with the same arousal that’s smeared across his face.
The first press of his cock into your cunt, swollen and desperate, makes his face melt. You make a small noise but Sukuna shushes you, clicking his tongue when you try to speak.
“Be good,” Your boyfriend warns you, and you wonder how you can do anything but.
Gojo pushes forward the tiniest bit and moans at the warmth that meets him. It’s so good he can’t help the sounds leaking from his mouth. His hips want to buck but he holds himself back, head falling to rest against yours.
“Just the tip.” He reminds himself, but the way his eyes roll back into his skull have him choking on the words and you know you’re fucked.
“fuck—” Gojo chokes out, already undone. His hips try to jerk— to chase that pleasure but he forces them still, tugging himself back out. “S’warm.”
Your cunt flutters around nothing, hollowed out where his fingers were, wet and desperate, tightening up like it’s trying to suck him buck in and your voice cracks around a whimper. Sukuna hums against your temple, digging his nails into your thighs. “This is what you wanted— behave.”
Gojo takes a breath like he’s drowning, like the word was meant for him. He rocks against you, thick and unrelenting, prodding his cock into your drooling pussy. The head is enough to stretch you out— has you gritting your teeth, head falling back, spit threatening the corner of your lips. Sukuna’s mouth finds your cheek, tongue running over your throat.
Gojo thrusts again, deeper this time, shuddering as you give way around him.
He chokes on a groan, shaking his head and shoving forwards in another tiny, helpless push before he wrenches himself still. His whole body seems to shiver, like holding back is tearing him to pieces.
The press and pull drives you insane, hips tilting in search of more and your head falls back onto Sukuna’s shoulder. His palm slips under your shirt, running down your ribs.
“Please,” Gojo gasps, “Fuck- I can’t stop. I’ll be gentle— just let me—”
He sinks his teeth into his lip, breathing heavily and when Gojo glances down at where you’re stretching around him— fuck, he could come like this.
Sukuna doesn’t let you move, mouth brushes your ear, “Always so fucking greedy.”
You don’t even know who he’s talking to. You try to breath but even the shallow thrusts make you weak. Gojo groans, pulling out to rub the tip back over your slick pussy. The sound rumbles through his chest and he rocks himself forward before he can stop it.
It makes you dizzy; desperate, arching up into Sukuna’s palm as though he’d give you mercy.
Sukuna practically growls his approval, hand sliding to press into your tummy, moves down to your cunt, where you’re smearing your mess along his thighs, “What? You want Gojo in here?”
“Please-” You choke out, “Want all of it— want it all, ‘Kuna.”
“Think he’ll get as deep as me?” Sukuna grins, nipping at your ear.
Gojo lifts his head, eyes blown. His control falters as he huffs, rolling those pretty blue eyes, “Don’t say shit like that, man.”
“i think she wants some more.” Sukuna laughs instead of dignifying him. You can’t catch your breath, nerves burning away when he drags a tongue lazily up the side of you neck. “Don’t you, baby?”
You can only nod, frantic and misty-eyed.
Gojo shudders, dragging himself in an out, almost teasing. Your thighs shake, chest heaving as your arms seek out comfort around his shoulders.
With a raw sound, he sinks the rest of the way. the shock of it rips a cry from you— the stretch white-hot and filling.
Gojo starts a rhythm that’s mean— fast and messy, plunging himself in and out until your cunt leaks around him, dripping down his thighs, bullying your insides.
Sukuna’s hand is there, heavy at your stomach and he presses. His grip pins you in place, an anchor that leaves you no choice but to lay there and take it. He rasps in your ear, amusement dripping from his tone. “That what you needed, baby?”
The words burn, and your nails claw at his shoulders.
Your walls squeeze around him, cunt choking on every inch he shoves into you. Your body doesn't even feel like yours anymore— just something for them to use.
Gojo’s pace stutters and he tries- he really does, but each thrust is harder than the last, sloppier. His hips crash against you with those filthy wet smacks.
He hammers into you, hips snapping up with mean wet strokes and cry out, holding onto him for dear life.
“Jesus, don’t get tighter.” Gojo grinds out, almost a whimper. Your cries bleed into the sound of his moans, tangled and helpless. His cock throbs inside of you, head punching into the spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“She always does that when she’s close,” Sukuna grins. The hand that’s not on your tummy moves down, rough fingers finding your clit. He isn't kind with his fingers, never is, he brings you to the edge like he's on a mission.
You keen, back arching despite the way he holds you down, every thrust jostles Sukuna’s fingers against you and each press of Gojo knocks the breath out of you.
Ssukuna doesn’t let you think too hard about it. His other hand clamps around your throat, tilting your head back against his chest.
Gojo’s eyes focus on the way your lips part, eyes rolling back in your skull as he fucks you deeper, greedier. Rutting into your body like he’s lost his mind. “She’s— she’s gonna—”
Sukuna snarls against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. “Give it to her.”
You can’t stop it. His hand is relentless, fingers circling your clit, grinding through the sharp pleasure that crashes over you. Your cunt flutters around Gojo, beckoning him deeper as the orgasm rips through you.
That’s all it takes —that pretty cunt gushing and squeezing like it doesn’t want to let go and Gojo is spilling inside of you, a choked out groan buried into the side of your neck.
Sukuna doesn’t let you leave, doesn’t let Gojo slip free, just keeps you there and full of his softening cock. It’s in that silence where he strokes lazily over your overstimulated clit and you twitch, whining in protest.
Sukuna presses a kiss to your temple, almost mocking until a tongue drags over it. “Hope you don’t think we’re done yet.”
don't repost my shit on anything pls😛😛😛 can u telll i dont have a beta??? TALK ABOUT A COME BACK HAPPY THANKSGIVINGGGG SLUTS
your car is fucked and you don’t really have the money to fix it... but that's okay! you find a mechanic that accept all forms of payment <3
word count: 4.4k
⊵ pairing: mechanic!toji x f.reader
⊵ cw: dubcon!!!, toji but he's sleazy, exchange of goods ;) for service!!, unprotected p in v sex with a dirty mechanic, semi-public sex but no one is there. creampie <33
you’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.
your car is sputtering like it smokes ten packs a day. there’s sweat dripping down your back and fusing you to the worn leather seat and you’re really regretting not getting the AC fixed when it went out last winter.
the window is still stuck half way down, just like it’s been for two years ever since you broke the fucking crank on it. the dust from the road keeps blowing through the crack, sticking to your skin and stinging your eyes.
and your fucking phone is dying.
you’d been lucky to even get your shit box this far into the drive— it could barely manage to go above 60 on a good day. now, though, the engine is coughing out another death rattle.
smoke wisps from under the hood, heat rising off the asphalt in waves that make you want to crawl out of your skin. you coast awkwardly down the road, gripping the steering wheel as if you can will it to keep going.
maybe you could at least make it into the city, but who knows if it was even fixable.
you don’t know the first thing about cars, but your phone has just enough charge for you to search for something helpful. There’s a mechanic not too far from here— “toji’s garage’. according to reviews, the owner’s sleazy… but he’s cheap.
can’t argue with cheap.
the garage was only a few miles down the dirt road, a run down building with an oil-stained parking lot and tires stacked in leaning towers.
the first thing you notice when you come clanking in is a guy perched on a stool beside an old truck. he looks up, taking a drag from the cigarette in his mouth and you wave awkwardly, stupidly, suddenly all too aware of your hands.
he leans back, seemingly in consideration, before he nods over to the first bay door beside him. you nod and barely make it there before your car wheezes, coughs, and then, seems to die entirely.
you press your forehead to the steering wheel, turning the key, trying to make it to start, but it’s useless. your hands shake when you fumble for your phone, finding it just in time to watch it die.
so now you’re stranded here; at this shady garage in the middle of the fucking desert.
you hiss out a curse, forcing yourself out of the car, slamming the door closed with more force than probably necessary.
the guy doesn't even bother to get up, looks at your car first, then at you. his eyes rake over your body— shoes to hair— in a way that makes your stomach tighten with a vulnerable discomfort. between the heat of the sun and the blatant overdoing, your pulse jumps.
the cigarette falls from his lips and he stomps it out, wiping his hands in a dirty rag, forearms flexing and straining with the movement. the white muscle tee clings to his sun-tanned skin, damp with sweat and oil, stretched tight over that broad fucking chest and you blink.
his coveralls are pulled up over his legs but tied low around his waist, sleeves hanging uselessly at his hips, riding just enough to hint at the skin beneath them.
god—the fucking face on him might be better.
you shouldn’t look, you really shouldn’t be checking out this poor mechanic but your eyes betray you anyways, tracking the path of fabric down to beneath his hips, where the unmistakable shape of his dick shows through his coveralls.
his smirk deepens, legs spreading slightly, thumbs hooking in the loops of his coveralls, tugging them low enough it’s almost indecent as he pushes to stand. he’s close enough now that the heat between you wasn’t just the sun.
“engine dead?” he asks casually, walking to you like he has all the time in the world.
“i don’t know,” you admit with a shrug, dragging a hand across your sweaty forehead. “i tried starting it, but… nothing.”
he makes a noncommittal noise before offering you a hand, “toji.”
he’s the owner then, you think to yourself, letting his hand envelop yours. his smile is small and lazy, scarred mouth set in a half-smirk that felt more than intentional. he just looks at you for a minute. not rushed. not even curious. just assessing—like you’d already caught his interest and he was deciding how much effort you were worth.
how fucking embarrassing.
you tell him your name and try to pretend like he didn’t just catch you looking at his dick.
toji just gives you another odd look before dropping your hand, nodding towards your car. “pop the hood.”
you scramble to obey, opening the door and leaning into to flick the lever before you meet him at the front of the car. he props it open with ease, fingers smeared black with grease. you shift on your feet as he stands there, hands on the frame, studying the engine, praying that it’s not going to bankrupt you.
“i’ll show you what's wrong,” toji tells you with a grunt and you follow him almost automatically, drawn toward his gestures.
toji guides you the few steps to the front of your car, hand coming down, sudden and hard on the back of your neck to shove your head down towards the engine bay. you let out a shocked gasp, bumper crushing into your thighs, so hot and sun-baked it’s damn near scorching your skin, and your palms instinctively find the frame to brace yourself.
“okay—” you try to say, going tense under his hands at the unexpected pressure. you blink down at the engine, not comprehending what you’re looking at, trying to ignore how fucking weird this is.
“see there?” toji drawls, breath grazing your ear, nodding to the machinery you definitely do not understand. you aren’t even sure he’s really talking about anything.
but you blink, fighting the strangeness, hands firm on the hot metal, knees trembling. heat seeps into your skin from your faintly smoking engine and you shake your head. behind you, toji presses closer, arm warm and sticky with sweat. the hand on your back slides to your waist, then drifts down to your hip.
“there.” toji says, voice low in your ear as he leans over your shoulder. his other hand reaches forward to wave over the different components, a vague gesture, forcing you forward, “could be a leak, maybe your battery,”
he lingers there for a moment, chest almost brushing your back before he straightens out and moves back a little, letting out a whistle that makes you fear the worst.
“well I can fix it,” he said slowly, sighing as if the thought of having to work was too much. he looks at you, eyebrow quirked, “…but it’ll cost you.”
“fuck.” you swallow as you turn to face him. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best not to panic. “fuck, okay. i don’t have cash, or my wallet— and my-my phone’s dead but i can—”
his eyes snap to yours and he sighs, deep and dramatic. “no wallet, huh?”
toji leans a touch closer, gaze dragging over you again— slow, deliberate— taking in the shape of you all over again. your stomach flutters at the attention, brows furrowing in confusion.
“and you really need to get this thing fixed, don’t you?” he asks with another sigh, smirk tugging at the scar on his lip.
you nod, swallowing, unsure if you’re misinterpreting this—but toji steps in closer now, pushing you back a step until the back of your knees hits the bumper. his hand reaches out to brush across your stomach, sliding to your waist, sweat and grease smearing where it meets bare skin.
your entire body locks up at the sudden touch, eyes going wide. your heart pounds in your chest when you meet his gaze, at the broad expanse of his body so close to pinning you in place.
the scent of him, a mix of smoke and cologne, suffocates you; makes it hard to think. his voice drops, a low, gruff whisper. “pretty little thing like you has got other ways to pay though, right?”
your body reacts before your mind can fully catch up. Your knees buckle, hands gripping the frame of your car to keep from tipping over. so caught off guard, you don’t even know what to say. your mouth opens and closes, dizzy with the heat he’s radiating. “i— are you serious?”
toji’s hand drops to your hip, a low chuckle rumbling out of him. “turn around for me.”
you swallow, anxiety gripping your throat when he starts to guide you, but you find yourself letting him.
“there you go…” he croons, pressing against your back, hands bracketing your hips. his eyes darken at your obedience, a hungry noise rumbling past his lips. “yeah, real easy, just the way i like it.”
his hand slides up to grip your waist, fingers digging in. he tugs at you, places a hand on your lower back to force your arch to deepen.
“you’re gonna be good, huh?” he asks, and fuck it’s so condescending it goes right through you. your head tilts almost on instinct to give him more room when he noses along your jaw, nodding despite your nerves.
you can’t help but make a soft noise, leaning into the kiss he places on your throat, legs spreading to give him more room when he knocks your feet apart with his boot. you can’t believe this is happening— every nerve ending feels almost alive—the heat of the hood, the smell of oil and sweat, the predatory lean of his body.
toji chuckles low in his throat, teeth grazing along your pulse.
a shudder rips down your spine, and the temptation is almost too much. you’ve never— never been in a situation like this. never had someone want you bad enough to make up for thousands of dollars worth of repairs.
the tension is so thick you choke on it, but you go pliant for him anyway despite the alarms going off in the back of your head.
“that’s it.” toji grins, licking at the shell of your ear. you shudder, pleasure sparking wherever he drags his rough hands. “bet that pussy’s already soaked for me.”
his hand slides down your chest, kneading your tits through your tank top before he drops it, palming where he knows you ache for him. your clit throbs when toji’s fingers bump into it and you barely manage to choke back a whimper when pull back and smacks down over your clothed cunt, hard enough that the pain and pleasure blur together and make your head spin.
“such a pretty girl.” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up the side of your neck. his hand slides up, two fingers toying with the button holding your shorts together before he’s popping it open. your zipper is next, the sound of it sliding downward almost unbearably loud, and you jolt when his fingers brush the skin of your stomach.
his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them down to your knees, exposing you to the hot air between you two. the second he sees the damp spot you’ve soaked into your sticky panties, he groans, low and deep.
“look at that.” toji puffs across your cheek, dragging a thumb over the spot with a deliberate slowness before smearing it back over your swollen folds. you whine in response, trembling, rocking back into his searching fingers. his hand slips between you, gripping the base of his cock through his coveralls, giving himself a slow stroke.
toji makes a pleased noise, hand coming to the back of your neck to push your head back down into resting on the engine. “there we go, good girl.”
he just watches you for a second, studies how your thighs tremble and twitch with need, how your breath comes out shorter and shorter with every movement before he finally decides to give you mercy.
“keep still,” he warns, teeth grazing your neck as he tugs your panties down. his middle finger runs through your folds, huffing out a laugh at the noise you make. he starts with one finger, sinking in without warning and fuck it almost does you in.
Just the one is huge, gets deeper than yours ever could, and when he curls it just right you can’t help but cry out, chest heaving. toji just fucks you through it, smearing the sticky mess from your cunt down his wrist and your thighs.
the thrusts of his finger are almost lazy, slick and noisy when your walls clamp down around him. you shiver, you quake, you whine, but toji doesn’t change the pace, just laughs when you beg for more. “that’s it, fuckin’ squeeze me like you mean it.”
the heat from your engine is still stinging your cheek where he’s got you pinned but his fingers don’t stop their slow exploration of your cunt, lazy and prodding. you cling to whatever you can hold on to, trembling, feeling like you could burst into flames at any moment.
a second finger bullies its way in, spreads you open even wider. you whine at the addition, rocking back to meet him, mind going gooey with every thrust, but you know it’s wrong, wrong enough that you try to lift your head. “this— this isnt—”
“shh, don’t gotta think,” toji rasps at your protests, fingers pressing harder, deeper, the meat of his palm grinding into your ass— just enough to make your back arch and a mewl tear from your throat. it chases the thoughts right from your head— purgers the slate clean and he laughs his approval, “mhm, jus’ like that… so good f’me.”
grease smears across your skin, mixing with the sweat coating your body. toji groans, watches the way your pussy swallows his fingers. “fuck. bet my cock’s gonna ruin this little cunt.”
your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up, knees wobbling at his words.
it’s almost like he can sense it, grinding his cock into your thigh, fingers curling deeper. there’s an obscene sound as a third one sinks into your sopping pussy— a wet squelch— and you can just tell you’re gushing around his fingers. you try to hide your face through the embarrassment but Toji just wrings your head out of your arms, clicking his tongue. “don’t hide— love this messy little fuckin’ pussy.”
your hips rock instinctively toward him, back arching, fingers clawing at the engine. toji doesn’t let you go far, fingers moving almost relentlessly inside you. “so fuckin’ good, even like this.”
your back arches, chest against metal but you can’t bring yourself to care, even as soot stains your new top and the hot parts burn.
“still so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, teeth grazing your neck, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. “gotta loosen you up some more, make you fit me.”
toji’s fingers curl, rubbing, sliding across the walls of your cunt until he seems to find what he’s looking for. pleasure explodes behind your eyelids, rendering you pliant and desperate. you keen, drool dripping from your lips.
“next time,” he purrs, tongue tracing warm and wet down the back of your throat. “gonna taste you properly… jus’ like this, bent over f’me, all wet and pretty.”
a broken sound is ripped from you at the idea alone, head swimming at the thought of there even being a next time. his head falls to your shoulder, words, slurred: “god— ‘m just gonna fuck you right here… you want that?”
your knees buckle, chest heaving, thighs trembling, a squeal leaving the back of your throat at the overwhelming sensations. “can’t even fuckin’ wait, can you? fuck—”
he groans, tugging down his coveralls just enough to free himself from the shorts he has underneath. the second you manage to get a glimpse at his cock— thick and flushed as it slaps against his stomach, he laughs. you feel almost feral for it, whining, pleading, pushing yourself back to meet him like a cat in heat.
“oh, you wanna see it? c’mere.” his hand fists the hair at the back of your head and he drags you up until you’re forced almost onto your toes.
he slips his fingers out of your cunt and spits into his slick palm, dragging the mess down his cock with a moan. you swallow, mouth watering when you watch him gather the precum beading at his tip.
he pushes your legs apart a little further with his knee, just enough before he lets you go and you drop back down. your hips hit the metal, belly pressed to the bay, spine bending. you can feel him there—heavy, hot, throbbing—sliding across the back of your thigh first. then higher. higher.
you make a weak sound, not quite a word, just breath catching.
“spread a little more,” toji bites into your shoulder, not asking so much as telling. his hand slides down your hip, squeezing, guiding. “let me see how much you want it.”
you try to look back but he forces your cheek down to the engine, gentle not in kindness but in convenience. you force your shaking legs to obey, hands sliding down to your ass to hold yourself open. toji groans at the sight, dragging the blunt, hot head of his cock through the mess he made between your thighs.
you jolt.
it feels bigger like this. the size is enough to make you pause, hesitate, panic gripping your throat. It’s too much—has to be— and the sudden stroke of him gliding up and down your drooling pussy is too much.
but toji doesn’t push— doesn't move, just rubs over you in slow, deliberate passes, groaning as the swollen tip catches your entrance each time, the mix of his precum and your slick dripping down your thighs. he slides over your clit with every pass, making you whimper.
“w-wait,” you breath out, voice barely there, “i—i don’t think that will even fit—”
“well you’re gonna take it.” toji says, as if it’s that simple, “bet this pussy’s never been used right before.”
he doesn't give you time to deliberate the matter before he’s prodding at your entrance, giving a few measured smacks before he sinks in. you whimper at the stretch, barely managing to relax into it before he pulls back, making you feel the emptiness twice as sharp. he keeps it up— shallow thrusts smearing pre around your pussy until you tremble.
you whimper, palms sliding on the hood. “toji, that’s—”
“i know.” a large, unforgiving palm mashes into your lower back, holding you still when your hips jerk. “no runnin’, you can take it, baby.”
despite your squirming your body gives way, inch by inch as he bullies himself inside. no rush, no mercy—just intent, unwavering. he spits on where your joined, smearing it across where your pussy is stretching tight around him and it’s so fucking filthy you clench down on him, pulling him in despite the weak noise of protest in your throat.
“oh fuck.” you heave, the words practically wrenched out of you.
“greedy fucking pussy,” toji breathes out, his voice lower, rougher. rocking his hips, fucking you on the half of his cock he has shoved inside. he leans over you, one hand snaking around to rub circles over your swollen clit. “that’s it, sweet thing. let me in.”
your throat goes dry, shivers wracking up your spine. you’re practically split open, the arch in your back is almost painful. toji groans, letting out another glob of spit to wet his cock.
when his hips finally met your ass, you can’t bring yourself to breathe— you feel it in your lungs. you’re filled to the brim, heat spreading through your gut, cunt pulsing around him. toji stays there for a moment, buried deep, letting you feel every part of him, every vein as it drags against your walls.
“look at that,” he croons, palm sliding up your spine, slow and heavy. his fingers dig into the back of your top, tugging you backwards to force himself even deeper. “knew you could take it all. like you were fuckin’ made for it.”
you shake your head weakly, dazed. “i—i wasn’t.”
toji just snorts, pulling back before his hips roll once, a small grind that makes his cock kiss your cervix. the denial spilling out of your mouth means nothing when the moan that follows escapes, eyes rolling back into your skull, tongue lulling out of your mouth.
“fees like you were,” he murmurs, licking his grinning lips.
his hips draw back again, not far, just enough that you feel hollowed out where he isn’t stretching you. he eases back in, movement sharp and deep, pushing through you. your toes curl in your shoes, head grinding into the metal as you try to pull yourself together.
the sticky heat of his body melding to your back makes it almost impossible. sweat drips from his jaw, hits your shoulder and your back.
“fuck,” you moan into the bay. “that’s— deep.”
toji makes a noncommittal noise, lifting his tank to watch where his cock is swallowed by your leaking cunt as you struggle to take him, “that’s the point.”
he fucks you in long, slow strokes, unhurried but inevitable. your poor pussy clinging to him in a way that’s almost helpless, trying to draw him deeper, harder.
but toji doesn’t speed up. his palm slides from your waist to between your parted thighs, knuckles brushing your spread pussy before his fingers find your clit. his rough fingers don’t touch you with any sort of urgency; he circles lazily, almost experimentally, watching how you jerk and bow at the sensation.
“oh—” you don’t mean for the broken sound to be so loud, the sound just escapes before you can clamp down on it.
“that’s it,” he groans, tone warm with satisfaction. “keep makin’ noise. nobody out here but us.”
your back arches, hips pushing back into his, desperate for the pleasure you know he can give you. he answers with a thrust, fucking you deeper, the slow grind giving way into heavy, deliberate thrusts. they knock the breath out of your lungs, rattle around in your rib cage until you moan.
“god you’re fuckin’ tight.” your hands slide around uselessly, body shaking with every stroke. toji grunts, leaning forward, lips brushing the top of your spine. “gonna fill this cunt up so good.”
you don’t know if you were supposed to respond but your pussy does anyways, tightening, pulsing, begging for more.
his fingers press harder on your clit almost like it's a reward, rubbing in messy, wet circles. not neat, not gentle, a rough, calloused hand, unrefined and uncaring like it’s just another job.
you whimper, high and breaking around it. “i— please—”
“what?” toji huffs, almost like it’s a chore, thrusts getting harder, meaner, like he’s testing just how much you can take. “you wanna come?”
you don’t answer— you can’t, body already chasing it like you’ll die without it. his free hand comes down hard on your ass and doesn’t let go, kneading, spreading you open to spit on where he’s buried just because he can.
his grip tightens, fingers pinning your clit, thumb dragging wetly through your slick. his cock drives deep, balls slapping you with every thrust.
your orgasm hits without warning, cunt clenching and spasming, limbs jerking as you practically gush down your thighs. your legs are done for, giving out the second you go boneless but toji keeps you pinned, fucking you through the pleasure unfurling.
“fuck—” he rasps, “gonna fuckin’ milk me dry.”
“that—” you choke on the words you try to say, mustering the strength to snark back at him, voice cracking with a whine. “that’s the point.”
your vision goes white, body unwilling to draw in a breathe as he pushes the head of his cock deeper, bumping your cervix, chasing the aftershocks that wrack through you. it’s too much— you try to pull away but he only follows you, pinning you, chest flush to your back, fingers still cruel on your clit.
“nuh-uh,” toji snaps, clicking his tongue. his hands are vicious; circling your clit too fast, too hard, in a way that makes you sob. “what’d i say about runnin’? work for those fuckin’ repairs.”
you whimper, hips pushing back despite how he batters your overstimulated walls, trying your best to push back with every movement.
“toji—” you try, voice weak.
“shut up,” he breathes, fucking you like he hates you. “quit whinin’.”
you try your best to do what he says, teeth sinking into your lips as your eyes roll back.
“tighten up.” he grunts, pinching your clit before he switches back to letting his thumb rubbing over it in tight, messy circles while his cock drives deep. you moan, writhing, tensing and relaxing as the overstimulation melts away and becomes raw pleasure. “there we go, just like that.”
“oh fuck—toji!”
“you gonna come again?” toji rasps, leaning lower, lips at your nape. “pretty little cunt’s so fucking wet— gonna fuck you full.”
your entire body goes taught, trembling from the pressure and you whine, pleading, but toji doesn’t relent, doesn’t let up, thumb still on your clit, grinding until your second orgasm is tearing through you—sharp, overwhelming.
you cry out, voice broken and gone, body shuddering, thighs quivering uncontrollably.
toji groans low in his throat, teeth sinking into his lip, slurred and rough. “fuck, s’perfect— fuck— gonna fucking come—”
you can feel it when it happens— how his thrusts get deeper, harder, like he’s trying to make sure it fucking takes. he doesn’t let up for a second— not even when his hips start stuttering or his balls draw up tight. his moan is filthy, cock twitching as he jerks forward to bury himself to the hilt one last time.
heat floods your cunt in thick spurts— his release so heavy it spills out. his hand slams down on the hood and your mouth falls open, cunt clenching like it’s trying to milk his cock for all its worth.
when the waves of pleasure finally subside he grinds deeper just to watch you leak, thumb dragging around his softening cock. you sag against the car, knees shaking, chest heaving when he finally pulls out with, tucking himself away before he wipes his hands on a rag from his back pocket.
“i’ll take that as a down payment,” he grins, voice low and amused, leaning back to watch how you try to collect yourself, still trembling and shaking. “i’ll call you a cab— pick it up tomorrow.”
you stay bent over into the engine bay for a moment, dazed, knees weak, watching him disappear through a door to the waiting room. the sun-baked metal is still radiating heat, every nerve still alive with sensation.
the next day when the taxi drops you off at the garage, your car is pristine, running and blowing cool air like it never forgot how.
he even fixed the window.
guys can u tell i know nothing about cars <3 thank u to @chosopedia (if that’s still ur name by the time i post this🙄) for chewing me the fuck up in the google docs couldn't have done it without u
your car is fucked and you don’t really have the money to fix it... but that's okay! you find a mechanic that accept all forms of payment <3
word count: 4.4k
⊵ pairing: mechanic!toji x f.reader
⊵ cw: dubcon!!!, toji but he's sleazy, exchange of goods ;) for service!!, unprotected p in v sex with a dirty mechanic, semi-public sex but no one is there. creampie <33
you’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.
your car is sputtering like it smokes ten packs a day. there’s sweat dripping down your back and fusing you to the worn leather seat and you’re really regretting not getting the AC fixed when it went out last winter.
the window is still stuck half way down, just like it’s been for two years ever since you broke the fucking crank on it. the dust from the road keeps blowing through the crack, sticking to your skin and stinging your eyes.
and your fucking phone is dying.
you’d been lucky to even get your shit box this far into the drive— it could barely manage to go above 60 on a good day. now, though, the engine is coughing out another death rattle.
smoke wisps from under the hood, heat rising off the asphalt in waves that make you want to crawl out of your skin. you coast awkwardly down the road, gripping the steering wheel as if you can will it to keep going.
maybe you could at least make it into the city, but who knows if it was even fixable.
you don’t know the first thing about cars, but your phone has just enough charge for you to search for something helpful. There’s a mechanic not too far from here— “toji’s garage’. according to reviews, the owner’s sleazy… but he’s cheap.
can’t argue with cheap.
the garage was only a few miles down the dirt road, a run down building with an oil-stained parking lot and tires stacked in leaning towers.
the first thing you notice when you come clanking in is a guy perched on a stool beside an old truck. he looks up, taking a drag from the cigarette in his mouth and you wave awkwardly, stupidly, suddenly all too aware of your hands.
he leans back, seemingly in consideration, before he nods over to the first bay door beside him. you nod and barely make it there before your car wheezes, coughs, and then, seems to die entirely.
you press your forehead to the steering wheel, turning the key, trying to make it to start, but it’s useless. your hands shake when you fumble for your phone, finding it just in time to watch it die.
so now you’re stranded here; at this shady garage in the middle of the fucking desert.
you hiss out a curse, forcing yourself out of the car, slamming the door closed with more force than probably necessary.
the guy doesn't even bother to get up, looks at your car first, then at you. his eyes rake over your body— shoes to hair— in a way that makes your stomach tighten with a vulnerable discomfort. between the heat of the sun and the blatant overdoing, your pulse jumps.
the cigarette falls from his lips and he stomps it out, wiping his hands in a dirty rag, forearms flexing and straining with the movement. the white muscle tee clings to his sun-tanned skin, damp with sweat and oil, stretched tight over that broad fucking chest and you blink.
his coveralls are pulled up over his legs but tied low around his waist, sleeves hanging uselessly at his hips, riding just enough to hint at the skin beneath them.
god—the fucking face on him might be better.
you shouldn’t look, you really shouldn’t be checking out this poor mechanic but your eyes betray you anyways, tracking the path of fabric down to beneath his hips, where the unmistakable shape of his dick shows through his coveralls.
his smirk deepens, legs spreading slightly, thumbs hooking in the loops of his coveralls, tugging them low enough it’s almost indecent as he pushes to stand. he’s close enough now that the heat between you wasn’t just the sun.
“engine dead?” he asks casually, walking to you like he has all the time in the world.
“i don’t know,” you admit with a shrug, dragging a hand across your sweaty forehead. “i tried starting it, but… nothing.”
he makes a noncommittal noise before offering you a hand, “toji.”
he’s the owner then, you think to yourself, letting his hand envelop yours. his smile is small and lazy, scarred mouth set in a half-smirk that felt more than intentional. he just looks at you for a minute. not rushed. not even curious. just assessing—like you’d already caught his interest and he was deciding how much effort you were worth.
how fucking embarrassing.
you tell him your name and try to pretend like he didn’t just catch you looking at his dick.
toji just gives you another odd look before dropping your hand, nodding towards your car. “pop the hood.”
you scramble to obey, opening the door and leaning into to flick the lever before you meet him at the front of the car. he props it open with ease, fingers smeared black with grease. you shift on your feet as he stands there, hands on the frame, studying the engine, praying that it’s not going to bankrupt you.
“i’ll show you what's wrong,” toji tells you with a grunt and you follow him almost automatically, drawn toward his gestures.
toji guides you the few steps to the front of your car, hand coming down, sudden and hard on the back of your neck to shove your head down towards the engine bay. you let out a shocked gasp, bumper crushing into your thighs, so hot and sun-baked it’s damn near scorching your skin, and your palms instinctively find the frame to brace yourself.
“okay—” you try to say, going tense under his hands at the unexpected pressure. you blink down at the engine, not comprehending what you’re looking at, trying to ignore how fucking weird this is.
“see there?” toji drawls, breath grazing your ear, nodding to the machinery you definitely do not understand. you aren’t even sure he’s really talking about anything.
but you blink, fighting the strangeness, hands firm on the hot metal, knees trembling. heat seeps into your skin from your faintly smoking engine and you shake your head. behind you, toji presses closer, arm warm and sticky with sweat. the hand on your back slides to your waist, then drifts down to your hip.
“there.” toji says, voice low in your ear as he leans over your shoulder. his other hand reaches forward to wave over the different components, a vague gesture, forcing you forward, “could be a leak, maybe your battery,”
he lingers there for a moment, chest almost brushing your back before he straightens out and moves back a little, letting out a whistle that makes you fear the worst.
“well I can fix it,” he said slowly, sighing as if the thought of having to work was too much. he looks at you, eyebrow quirked, “…but it’ll cost you.”
“fuck.” you swallow as you turn to face him. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best not to panic. “fuck, okay. i don’t have cash, or my wallet— and my-my phone’s dead but i can—”
his eyes snap to yours and he sighs, deep and dramatic. “no wallet, huh?”
toji leans a touch closer, gaze dragging over you again— slow, deliberate— taking in the shape of you all over again. your stomach flutters at the attention, brows furrowing in confusion.
“and you really need to get this thing fixed, don’t you?” he asks with another sigh, smirk tugging at the scar on his lip.
you nod, swallowing, unsure if you’re misinterpreting this—but toji steps in closer now, pushing you back a step until the back of your knees hits the bumper. his hand reaches out to brush across your stomach, sliding to your waist, sweat and grease smearing where it meets bare skin.
your entire body locks up at the sudden touch, eyes going wide. your heart pounds in your chest when you meet his gaze, at the broad expanse of his body so close to pinning you in place.
the scent of him, a mix of smoke and cologne, suffocates you; makes it hard to think. his voice drops, a low, gruff whisper. “pretty little thing like you has got other ways to pay though, right?”
your body reacts before your mind can fully catch up. Your knees buckle, hands gripping the frame of your car to keep from tipping over. so caught off guard, you don’t even know what to say. your mouth opens and closes, dizzy with the heat he’s radiating. “i— are you serious?”
toji’s hand drops to your hip, a low chuckle rumbling out of him. “turn around for me.”
you swallow, anxiety gripping your throat when he starts to guide you, but you find yourself letting him.
“there you go…” he croons, pressing against your back, hands bracketing your hips. his eyes darken at your obedience, a hungry noise rumbling past his lips. “yeah, real easy, just the way i like it.”
his hand slides up to grip your waist, fingers digging in. he tugs at you, places a hand on your lower back to force your arch to deepen.
“you’re gonna be good, huh?” he asks, and fuck it’s so condescending it goes right through you. your head tilts almost on instinct to give him more room when he noses along your jaw, nodding despite your nerves.
you can’t help but make a soft noise, leaning into the kiss he places on your throat, legs spreading to give him more room when he knocks your feet apart with his boot. you can’t believe this is happening— every nerve ending feels almost alive—the heat of the hood, the smell of oil and sweat, the predatory lean of his body.
toji chuckles low in his throat, teeth grazing along your pulse.
a shudder rips down your spine, and the temptation is almost too much. you’ve never— never been in a situation like this. never had someone want you bad enough to make up for thousands of dollars worth of repairs.
the tension is so thick you choke on it, but you go pliant for him anyway despite the alarms going off in the back of your head.
“that’s it.” toji grins, licking at the shell of your ear. you shudder, pleasure sparking wherever he drags his rough hands. “bet that pussy’s already soaked for me.”
his hand slides down your chest, kneading your tits through your tank top before he drops it, palming where he knows you ache for him. your clit throbs when toji’s fingers bump into it and you barely manage to choke back a whimper when pull back and smacks down over your clothed cunt, hard enough that the pain and pleasure blur together and make your head spin.
“such a pretty girl.” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up the side of your neck. his hand slides up, two fingers toying with the button holding your shorts together before he’s popping it open. your zipper is next, the sound of it sliding downward almost unbearably loud, and you jolt when his fingers brush the skin of your stomach.
his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them down to your knees, exposing you to the hot air between you two. the second he sees the damp spot you’ve soaked into your sticky panties, he groans, low and deep.
“look at that.” toji puffs across your cheek, dragging a thumb over the spot with a deliberate slowness before smearing it back over your swollen folds. you whine in response, trembling, rocking back into his searching fingers. his hand slips between you, gripping the base of his cock through his coveralls, giving himself a slow stroke.
toji makes a pleased noise, hand coming to the back of your neck to push your head back down into resting on the engine. “there we go, good girl.”
he just watches you for a second, studies how your thighs tremble and twitch with need, how your breath comes out shorter and shorter with every movement before he finally decides to give you mercy.
“keep still,” he warns, teeth grazing your neck as he tugs your panties down. his middle finger runs through your folds, huffing out a laugh at the noise you make. he starts with one finger, sinking in without warning and fuck it almost does you in.
Just the one is huge, gets deeper than yours ever could, and when he curls it just right you can’t help but cry out, chest heaving. toji just fucks you through it, smearing the sticky mess from your cunt down his wrist and your thighs.
the thrusts of his finger are almost lazy, slick and noisy when your walls clamp down around him. you shiver, you quake, you whine, but toji doesn’t change the pace, just laughs when you beg for more. “that’s it, fuckin’ squeeze me like you mean it.”
the heat from your engine is still stinging your cheek where he’s got you pinned but his fingers don’t stop their slow exploration of your cunt, lazy and prodding. you cling to whatever you can hold on to, trembling, feeling like you could burst into flames at any moment.
a second finger bullies its way in, spreads you open even wider. you whine at the addition, rocking back to meet him, mind going gooey with every thrust, but you know it’s wrong, wrong enough that you try to lift your head. “this— this isnt—”
“shh, don’t gotta think,” toji rasps at your protests, fingers pressing harder, deeper, the meat of his palm grinding into your ass— just enough to make your back arch and a mewl tear from your throat. it chases the thoughts right from your head— purgers the slate clean and he laughs his approval, “mhm, jus’ like that… so good f’me.”
grease smears across your skin, mixing with the sweat coating your body. toji groans, watches the way your pussy swallows his fingers. “fuck. bet my cock’s gonna ruin this little cunt.”
your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up, knees wobbling at his words.
it’s almost like he can sense it, grinding his cock into your thigh, fingers curling deeper. there’s an obscene sound as a third one sinks into your sopping pussy— a wet squelch— and you can just tell you’re gushing around his fingers. you try to hide your face through the embarrassment but Toji just wrings your head out of your arms, clicking his tongue. “don’t hide— love this messy little fuckin’ pussy.”
your hips rock instinctively toward him, back arching, fingers clawing at the engine. toji doesn’t let you go far, fingers moving almost relentlessly inside you. “so fuckin’ good, even like this.”
your back arches, chest against metal but you can’t bring yourself to care, even as soot stains your new top and the hot parts burn.
“still so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, teeth grazing your neck, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. “gotta loosen you up some more, make you fit me.”
toji’s fingers curl, rubbing, sliding across the walls of your cunt until he seems to find what he’s looking for. pleasure explodes behind your eyelids, rendering you pliant and desperate. you keen, drool dripping from your lips.
“next time,” he purrs, tongue tracing warm and wet down the back of your throat. “gonna taste you properly… jus’ like this, bent over f’me, all wet and pretty.”
a broken sound is ripped from you at the idea alone, head swimming at the thought of there even being a next time. his head falls to your shoulder, words, slurred: “god— ‘m just gonna fuck you right here… you want that?”
your knees buckle, chest heaving, thighs trembling, a squeal leaving the back of your throat at the overwhelming sensations. “can’t even fuckin’ wait, can you? fuck—”
he groans, tugging down his coveralls just enough to free himself from the shorts he has underneath. the second you manage to get a glimpse at his cock— thick and flushed as it slaps against his stomach, he laughs. you feel almost feral for it, whining, pleading, pushing yourself back to meet him like a cat in heat.
“oh, you wanna see it? c’mere.” his hand fists the hair at the back of your head and he drags you up until you’re forced almost onto your toes.
he slips his fingers out of your cunt and spits into his slick palm, dragging the mess down his cock with a moan. you swallow, mouth watering when you watch him gather the precum beading at his tip.
he pushes your legs apart a little further with his knee, just enough before he lets you go and you drop back down. your hips hit the metal, belly pressed to the bay, spine bending. you can feel him there—heavy, hot, throbbing—sliding across the back of your thigh first. then higher. higher.
you make a weak sound, not quite a word, just breath catching.
“spread a little more,” toji bites into your shoulder, not asking so much as telling. his hand slides down your hip, squeezing, guiding. “let me see how much you want it.”
you try to look back but he forces your cheek down to the engine, gentle not in kindness but in convenience. you force your shaking legs to obey, hands sliding down to your ass to hold yourself open. toji groans at the sight, dragging the blunt, hot head of his cock through the mess he made between your thighs.
you jolt.
it feels bigger like this. the size is enough to make you pause, hesitate, panic gripping your throat. It’s too much—has to be— and the sudden stroke of him gliding up and down your drooling pussy is too much.
but toji doesn’t push— doesn't move, just rubs over you in slow, deliberate passes, groaning as the swollen tip catches your entrance each time, the mix of his precum and your slick dripping down your thighs. he slides over your clit with every pass, making you whimper.
“w-wait,” you breath out, voice barely there, “i—i don’t think that will even fit—”
“well you’re gonna take it.” toji says, as if it’s that simple, “bet this pussy’s never been used right before.”
he doesn't give you time to deliberate the matter before he’s prodding at your entrance, giving a few measured smacks before he sinks in. you whimper at the stretch, barely managing to relax into it before he pulls back, making you feel the emptiness twice as sharp. he keeps it up— shallow thrusts smearing pre around your pussy until you tremble.
you whimper, palms sliding on the hood. “toji, that’s—”
“i know.” a large, unforgiving palm mashes into your lower back, holding you still when your hips jerk. “no runnin’, you can take it, baby.”
despite your squirming your body gives way, inch by inch as he bullies himself inside. no rush, no mercy—just intent, unwavering. he spits on where your joined, smearing it across where your pussy is stretching tight around him and it’s so fucking filthy you clench down on him, pulling him in despite the weak noise of protest in your throat.
“oh fuck.” you heave, the words practically wrenched out of you.
“greedy fucking pussy,” toji breathes out, his voice lower, rougher. rocking his hips, fucking you on the half of his cock he has shoved inside. he leans over you, one hand snaking around to rub circles over your swollen clit. “that’s it, sweet thing. let me in.”
your throat goes dry, shivers wracking up your spine. you’re practically split open, the arch in your back is almost painful. toji groans, letting out another glob of spit to wet his cock.
when his hips finally met your ass, you can’t bring yourself to breathe— you feel it in your lungs. you’re filled to the brim, heat spreading through your gut, cunt pulsing around him. toji stays there for a moment, buried deep, letting you feel every part of him, every vein as it drags against your walls.
“look at that,” he croons, palm sliding up your spine, slow and heavy. his fingers dig into the back of your top, tugging you backwards to force himself even deeper. “knew you could take it all. like you were fuckin’ made for it.”
you shake your head weakly, dazed. “i—i wasn’t.”
toji just snorts, pulling back before his hips roll once, a small grind that makes his cock kiss your cervix. the denial spilling out of your mouth means nothing when the moan that follows escapes, eyes rolling back into your skull, tongue lulling out of your mouth.
“fees like you were,” he murmurs, licking his grinning lips.
his hips draw back again, not far, just enough that you feel hollowed out where he isn’t stretching you. he eases back in, movement sharp and deep, pushing through you. your toes curl in your shoes, head grinding into the metal as you try to pull yourself together.
the sticky heat of his body melding to your back makes it almost impossible. sweat drips from his jaw, hits your shoulder and your back.
“fuck,” you moan into the bay. “that’s— deep.”
toji makes a noncommittal noise, lifting his tank to watch where his cock is swallowed by your leaking cunt as you struggle to take him, “that’s the point.”
he fucks you in long, slow strokes, unhurried but inevitable. your poor pussy clinging to him in a way that’s almost helpless, trying to draw him deeper, harder.
but toji doesn’t speed up. his palm slides from your waist to between your parted thighs, knuckles brushing your spread pussy before his fingers find your clit. his rough fingers don’t touch you with any sort of urgency; he circles lazily, almost experimentally, watching how you jerk and bow at the sensation.
“oh—” you don’t mean for the broken sound to be so loud, the sound just escapes before you can clamp down on it.
“that’s it,” he groans, tone warm with satisfaction. “keep makin’ noise. nobody out here but us.”
your back arches, hips pushing back into his, desperate for the pleasure you know he can give you. he answers with a thrust, fucking you deeper, the slow grind giving way into heavy, deliberate thrusts. they knock the breath out of your lungs, rattle around in your rib cage until you moan.
“god you’re fuckin’ tight.” your hands slide around uselessly, body shaking with every stroke. toji grunts, leaning forward, lips brushing the top of your spine. “gonna fill this cunt up so good.”
you don’t know if you were supposed to respond but your pussy does anyways, tightening, pulsing, begging for more.
his fingers press harder on your clit almost like it's a reward, rubbing in messy, wet circles. not neat, not gentle, a rough, calloused hand, unrefined and uncaring like it’s just another job.
you whimper, high and breaking around it. “i— please—”
“what?” toji huffs, almost like it’s a chore, thrusts getting harder, meaner, like he’s testing just how much you can take. “you wanna come?”
you don’t answer— you can’t, body already chasing it like you’ll die without it. his free hand comes down hard on your ass and doesn’t let go, kneading, spreading you open to spit on where he’s buried just because he can.
his grip tightens, fingers pinning your clit, thumb dragging wetly through your slick. his cock drives deep, balls slapping you with every thrust.
your orgasm hits without warning, cunt clenching and spasming, limbs jerking as you practically gush down your thighs. your legs are done for, giving out the second you go boneless but toji keeps you pinned, fucking you through the pleasure unfurling.
“fuck—” he rasps, “gonna fuckin’ milk me dry.”
“that—” you choke on the words you try to say, mustering the strength to snark back at him, voice cracking with a whine. “that’s the point.”
your vision goes white, body unwilling to draw in a breathe as he pushes the head of his cock deeper, bumping your cervix, chasing the aftershocks that wrack through you. it’s too much— you try to pull away but he only follows you, pinning you, chest flush to your back, fingers still cruel on your clit.
“nuh-uh,” toji snaps, clicking his tongue. his hands are vicious; circling your clit too fast, too hard, in a way that makes you sob. “what’d i say about runnin’? work for those fuckin’ repairs.”
you whimper, hips pushing back despite how he batters your overstimulated walls, trying your best to push back with every movement.
“toji—” you try, voice weak.
“shut up,” he breathes, fucking you like he hates you. “quit whinin’.”
you try your best to do what he says, teeth sinking into your lips as your eyes roll back.
“tighten up.” he grunts, pinching your clit before he switches back to letting his thumb rubbing over it in tight, messy circles while his cock drives deep. you moan, writhing, tensing and relaxing as the overstimulation melts away and becomes raw pleasure. “there we go, just like that.”
“oh fuck—toji!”
“you gonna come again?” toji rasps, leaning lower, lips at your nape. “pretty little cunt’s so fucking wet— gonna fuck you full.”
your entire body goes taught, trembling from the pressure and you whine, pleading, but toji doesn’t relent, doesn’t let up, thumb still on your clit, grinding until your second orgasm is tearing through you—sharp, overwhelming.
you cry out, voice broken and gone, body shuddering, thighs quivering uncontrollably.
toji groans low in his throat, teeth sinking into his lip, slurred and rough. “fuck, s’perfect— fuck— gonna fucking come—”
you can feel it when it happens— how his thrusts get deeper, harder, like he’s trying to make sure it fucking takes. he doesn’t let up for a second— not even when his hips start stuttering or his balls draw up tight. his moan is filthy, cock twitching as he jerks forward to bury himself to the hilt one last time.
heat floods your cunt in thick spurts— his release so heavy it spills out. his hand slams down on the hood and your mouth falls open, cunt clenching like it’s trying to milk his cock for all its worth.
when the waves of pleasure finally subside he grinds deeper just to watch you leak, thumb dragging around his softening cock. you sag against the car, knees shaking, chest heaving when he finally pulls out with, tucking himself away before he wipes his hands on a rag from his back pocket.
“i’ll take that as a down payment,” he grins, voice low and amused, leaning back to watch how you try to collect yourself, still trembling and shaking. “i’ll call you a cab— pick it up tomorrow.”
you stay bent over into the engine bay for a moment, dazed, knees weak, watching him disappear through a door to the waiting room. the sun-baked metal is still radiating heat, every nerve still alive with sensation.
the next day when the taxi drops you off at the garage, your car is pristine, running and blowing cool air like it never forgot how.
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