You lock the last heavy metal chain around Caleb's torso and step back. Caleb sits on the floor. His wrists, ankles, neck, and torso are secured against the restraint system he built himself. It's the evening before the full moon.
You look at him concerned.
"It's okay, Pips," he says softly. "Trust me, it's better this way."
You glance at his half-naked body. He’s wearing nothing but ripped knee-length jean shorts.
“Won’t you be cold though?”
“I usually overheat because of the fur, so... no. At least I can fit in these pants after the transformation, so I won’t be fully naked,” Caleb looks away, as if disgusted with himself.
After months of secrecy, you followed Caleb to an abandoned hospital in the woods and discovered why he kept disappearing for days at a time. Someone connected to EVER injected Caleb with an experimental gene product, and ever since, he's been transforming into a werewolf every full moon.
“I still can’t imagine it, Caleb.”
“And it’s better if you don’t,” he says quietly. “Please… I want you to remember me as your Caleb, not the merciless beast I turn into.”
“But I—"
“You should go now,” he says as the sun is turning red on the horizon.
“Can’t I stay and watch over you? You’ll be so lonely”
“Absolutely not!” he snaps, “Go home...,” he adds softly, “please!”
Halfway through your walk back through the woods, the sun has fully set and the moon hangs high above the trees. The longer you think about Caleb being alone, the more your worry grows… so you turn around.
You make your way back to the room where Caleb was chained, and carefully step inside.
“Caleb?”
The chains lie shattered across the floor. The entire restraint mechanism hangs open and broken. You’re about to search the room for clues, but suddenly something slams into you from the side. A burning pain explodes through your ribs as you're thrown against the wall.
As you struggle to sit up, your body being now severely wounded, a low whimpering echoes from the shadows in the corner of the room that sounds like a frightened dog.
“Caleb... is that you?”
Two glowing purple eyes stare back at you.
He continues to whine and you feel the urge to comfort him. You take a cautious step forward.
“Caleb, it’s me. Don’t be afraid. I’m sure you didn’t mean to hurt me. I’m okay. I was just so worried about you...”
As moonlight spills through the broken windows, you finally see him.
His face is still recognizably Caleb’s, but his frame is almost twice the size. He has thick sideburns, slightly fuller eyebrows, longer and messier hair, like an untamed mullet. A faint layer of dark hair covers his arms, legs, and chest, along with a very prominent happy trail that he usually shaves. He also has… a fluffy tail?
You crouch down.
“Don’t worry. It’s me. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to prote—” You can’t finish the sentence.
In an instant, you’re thrown onto your back with terrifying force, pain shoots through your body as you hit the ground.
“I TOLD YOU TO GO HOME!” Caleb growls loudly.
His massive body moves on top of yours now.
“I smelled you,” he says, his voice much deeper than usual, “kilometers away. Your scent lingered in this room.”
He aggressively sniffs at your neck, your hair, your clothes, as if trying to memorize every trace of your scent.
His gaze turns predatory, even his teeth seem sharper. His claws catch your dress and tear through the fabric with a single jerk, leaving your chest and body exposed.
With overwhelming strength, he spins you around, forcing you onto all fours.
He doesn’t hesitate which means he also doesn’t prepare you like he usually would. He slams his now enormous large cock inside you with full strength, almost tearing you apart. His thrusts are so forceful and so deep, he’s severely bruising your cervix, ramming himself into you roughly.
Caleb’s only acting with his animalistic instincts and those instincts tell him one thing and one thing only: To breed you.
“I'm going to keep you full and bred, full of my offsprings! Would you like that? To be filled?” he growls as he fucks you relentlessly from behind.
You endure the pain and fear as best you can and despite it, you moan out an eager “Ngh—p—please, yes—I’ll carry your pups,” while you come over and over again, your privates all swollen and pulsating.
But don't call for him to stop, because beneath it all, it's still Caleb — your Caleb.
He merciless fucks you around the clock the entire night and following days, filling you over and over again, not letting you catch a break, since he can go for hours at a time now.
He keeps your body in his embrace, rubs his scent on you, licks your wounds clean, growls at anything that isn’t you, he treats you like a possession.
The next days, he occasionally brings you water by carrying it in his mouth and then spitting it into yours, so you can drink. For food, he kills a deer and brings you the fresh meat, but you refuse and decide to fast.
You catch a glimpse of worry in his eyes when he sees you refuse to eat — moments when you can still see your Caleb in them, even though he chains you up whenever he’s out for the hunt.
You said you wanted to comfort him, that you didn’t want him to be alone during the full moon, so you stay (not like you have a chance). For the next three days and two nights, you bear the full moon’s curse until your Caleb will return to you.
Little do you know that by covering you in his werewolf scent and marking you as his own, he has made you impossible to lose. Every trace of his scent left on your skin only strengthens his claim. No matter where you go or how far you run, he will always find you, and he won’t stop until he does. And when the next full moon rises, he will come for you again — whether you're ready or not.
✦Clark Masterlist - Read on aO3! - Main Masterlist✦
✦summary: all week, clark's been acting strange. he won't go near you, won't look at you, and by friday he's vanished all together. everyone seems to know why but you. but nothing's going to keep you away from him. not for that long.✦
✦warnings/tags: friends to lovers, secret identity shenanigans, emotional angst, fluff, sex pollen, sex pollen level smut, a little plot for the porn (male masturbation, manhandling, clark's feral, emotional sex, dry humping, blowjobs and facefucking, dumbification, dirty talk, sensitive reader, finger sucking, clark gets nasty, body worship, crazy overstimulation, sex pollen stamnia, fingering, oral f!recieving, begging, praise kink, monster dick clark, he fucks like a machine, breeding kink), no use of y/n, no descrption of reader✦
✦wc: 10.5k✦
✦author's note: request and voted fic! i got. real horny with it✦
Clark has been acting strange all week.
He got into work on Monday with a red face, and you didn’t question it. He runs everywhere. It’s a little ridiculous he doesn’t have a red face more.
“Want some water?” You’d tapped on his desk, and he’d let out a sharp breath.
“Yeah.” His voice had been strangely rough, his glasses almost slipping off his nose. “Water- Water would be nice. Thank you.
He hadn’t looked you in the eyes.
Not when you brought the water to his desk, or for the rest of the day. When you got in the next morning, he was already at his desk, but didn’t do more than mumble a good morning. His shoulders had squared and rippled, when you’d walked past.
You’d gone to the bathroom, and made sure you didn’t reek of something rancid. Maybe there was a sulfur leak in your apartment and you’d just gotten used to it. Maybe you’d stepped in dog poop on the train and no one’s told you.
“Do I smell bad?” You’d asked Jimmy, and he’d looked at you like your were crazy.
“I don’t know? I don’t go around smelling people like a- A serial killer-“
“I’m not asking you to smell me like a serial killer.” You’d hissed, leaning down to block him in his chair. “I’m asking you to smell me like a friend, Lois smells me all the time-“
Jimmy had eyed you suspiciously. “If this is some weird mating dance, I’m not interested-‘
“It’s not a mating dance!”
“It seems like a mating dance-“
“It’s not-“ You’d shaken your head. “Just stop being a fucking pussy and smell me!”
Someone had cleared their throat behind you. Jimmy’s eyes had widened, fixed right over your shoulder, and you’d known who it was before you turned.
You know that low, controlled sound. You know the rush that his attention brings, and the shiver up your spine whenever he’s close. You close your eyes tight, breathing through your nose, and turn to Clark with a plastered smile.
“Hi, Clark! No one was trying to smell anyone-“
You cut yourself off when you see him. You almost forget how to speak.
He’s a wreck. Curly hair is plastered to his brow, his white button up is more sweat stains than dry spots, and there’s a vein pushing out of his neck that seems painful. His glasses keep trying to slip off his nose, and he’s shifting like even just standing is uncomfortable. He’s pale and red all at once, ruddy in his face and paper white in his fists. The flush deepens near his neck, and returns to his arms right before the cut off of his rolled up sleeves. He’s breathing through his mouth.
His eyes are black, and gleaming.
You scramble away from Jimmy, yanking yourself back from going to press a hand to Clark’s brow.
Clark takes a jagged, stumbling step back.
You look back to Jimmy, and he gives you a tight shake of his head. He doesn’t know what to do either. You’ve never seen Clark with so much as a paper cut, and now it looks like he needs a hospital.
“Hey, buddy.” Jimmy tries, voice soft. Like he’s speaking to a feral animal. “You feeling alright?”
Clark jerks his head to Jimmy, and his nostrils flare. Like he’d almost forgotten Jimmy was there.
Jimmy leans back. And you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s Clark. The softest, sweetest heart you know, shoved into a giant’s body.
But like this, Clark doesn’t look like a man. He looks like something that’s crawled out of your darkest wet dream. Like something that should be in the sky, fighting Superman. With the black eyes and sudden, jagged movements, he looks like an animal.
He looks dangerous.
And he doesn’t respond right away. Clark stares at Jimmy, breathing heavily, then squeezes his eyes shut. You and Jimmy exchange another worried look. If he’s been corrupted by something—in this world, you can’t rule anything out—and he attacks, you’re not sure you can fight him off. Emotionally or physically. Clark’s huge, he’d crush Jimmy with one fist and you’d be nothing but an annoying fly to be swatted across the room.
But whatever’s going on with Clark, he seems to drag it under control. He opens his eyes, and a thin ring of blue is back.
“I’m fine.” He rasps, staring at Jimmy. “Just- Didn’t sleep well. You know.”
Jimmy blinks. “No, uh- I don’t-“
Clark looks at you.
And you could swear the blue flickers, when your eyes meet.
“You smell good.” He mutters.
He turns like something’s dragging him, and walks away. You and Jimmy stand there for about three more minutes—in total baffled silence—before Jimmy’s mouth falls open.
“What the fuck is up with him?”
Nobody seems to be sure.
On Tuesday, he seems a little better. He eats lunch with you. Wheels his chair next to yours like usual while he’s editing, because you always catch typos he misses, and he’s a good reporter but not the best writer.
“You can’t use that word here.” You tap his laptop screen. He frowns.
“There are no other words I could use, though-“
“Corrupt?”
“But- Oh.” He sighs, hitting backspace. “See? That’s why you’re the expert.”
You laugh softly, and Clark gives you his usual small, almost shy smile.
“How’s your piece coming?” He asks kindly—always kindly—and you groan.
“Dogshit.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad-“
“My main source backed out.” You grumble. “Like a little baby bitch. I can’t make this level of accusations again LuthorCorp without a source, it’s asking for a defamation lawsuit, and after the last one Perry would kill me-“
“But you won the last one.” Clark frowns, and you give him a pointed look.
“Yeah. Because I had a source.”
“Ah. Right.” He pauses, pushing his glasses slowly up his nose.
You watch the movement as subtly as possible. You love it when he does that. It’s a tiny, adorable quirk that makes you want to rip his hand away and push them up yourself.
“What if I said I have a source for you?” He asks softly, and you perk up.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He grins. “You know, I’d think you’d have faith in me, I wouldn’t lie about that-“
“Shut up, I’m excited-“
“I can tell.” He boops your nose, and you stick your tongue out at him.
He does that all the time. He says you get a bunny nose when you’re excited about something, and then you hit him because nothing about you is bunny like.
Sometimes you say that, and he chuckles.
You have no idea. He mutters under his breath.
And sometimes he hits your nose, and your breath hitches because he touched you.
Today you keep it under control.
It’s Clark that freezes. Coughs and goes red, wheeling his chair an inch back. You frown at him, ready to ask what’s wrong, but he shakes his head like he’s already denying you an answer.
“It’s- Uh- Superman.”
You blink. “What?”
“Superman can be your source.” He grunts, shifting in his chair. “I can ask him to. For you.”
“I- You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“I can find someone else-“
“No, I- I’ve got it.”
He stares at you. You stare back, heart swelling with something sweeter than you usually allow it to feel.
You’re used to your feelings for Clark. You try not to think about them, especially not in his presence. There’s no amount of love you’d risk your friendship for.
But he makes that rule hard to follow sometimes. When he starts being stupidly perfect.
You smile at him, wide and unrestrained. “Thank you.”
He nods—tight and jerked—stares for a long, long moment. He shoots to his feet.
“I have to go to the bathroom!” He announces to the whole bullpen.
Clark sprints away. Jimmy gives you a questioning look, and you shake your head.
He doesn’t come back for an hour. When he does, his face is wholly red again.
He’s back to not looking you in the eyes. Back to looking so sick you’re worried he might be going feral.
And you have no idea what to do.
Lois gets back on Wednesday, and the first thing she says to you is What’s up with Smallville? Perry corners you at your desk to ask if you’ve got any idea what’s Clark’s been up to that might be doing this to him. Steve loudly jokes that everyone should be placing bets on when Clark passes out. Cat keeps trying to bring him tea—a thin guise so she can suggest home remedies to whatever super hangover he has—and Clark always drinks it with shaking hands.
He listens to all her suggestions without interrupting, but whenever Jimmy suggests Urgent Care—you’ve given up on trying to get him to the ER—Clark grunts a sound like no and won’t hear another word.
You’re getting really worried. Everyone gets sick, but Clark’s always talking about his very good immune system.
And nobody gets sick like this. Legally, Perry should be making him go home, but no one can get close enough to confirm a fever, and it’s somehow not effecting his work performance.
“Clark.” You sit on the edge of his desk, keeping your voice soft. “You need to go to a doctor.”
His whole body locks up. His fingers freeze on his keyboard, and he bows his head like he’s in prayer.
“Clark-“
“Please.” He says, so quiet you almost miss it. “Back up.”
You blink. “Back up?”
He nods, and there’s a sting in your heart.
He hasn’t asked anyone else to back up.
But you slide off his desk, and take a single step back. Another, when he doesn’t relax from the first.
You clear your throat, tucking your hands behind your back. Clark lets out a heavy, ragged exhale, and looks up.
He still won’t fully meet your gaze. His darkened eyes are fixed right over your head, and you try not to let it hurt more than it already does.
“Clark.” You’ve lost a little bit of nerve. You try not to let him hear it. “The doctor-“
“I don’t need a doctor.” He tells the ceiling, and you sigh.
“You’re sick-“
“No. I’m not.”
“Dude, I- I can feel your fever from here.” The heat, rolling off his body like he’s an active star. “At least just go so they can say you’re not sick.”
He doesn’t answer. You almost take a step forward, before reeling yourself back. He doesn’t want you too close.
“Please?” You say. “It would make all of us feel better.”
That makes him look at you. For just a split second, barely a heartbeat, but long enough.
His eyes go wholly back. He wheels his chair backwards, like there’s something toxic coming off of you that he’s trying to avoid.
And it hurts. It hurts so much your face burns with shame, and your stomach does a sick clench of pain.
It’s never fun, for the man you’ve quietly been in love with for years, to look at you like you’re proximity might kill him.
The only thing that stops you from crying is worry for him.
But that’s not enough to hold back the crack in your voice.
“Clark- Please-“
He shakes his head, jaw clenching. You swallow, and take another step back.
“Oh- Okay. Sorry.”
You turn on your heels. Behind you, Clark rasps your name.
And you look back. You can’t help it.
But all he does is stare at you.
So you walk away.
Clark doesn’t come in on Thursday. Jimmy goes to check on him, but won’t report back on what he finds. When he gets back to the office, his face is bloodless and eyes wider than an owl.
“Is he-“
“He’s not sick.” Jimmy stares at you like you’re a ghost. “He’s- Um- We should- Give him space.”
You frown. “But-“
“Lots of space.” Jimmy mutters under his breath, already walking away. “And maybe me some bleach. Freakin’- Gross-“
Lois comes up next to you, watching Jimmy head into the bathroom. You’re wringing your hands, lips pressed in a painfully tight line, and Lois grabs your wrists.
“Don’t go visit him.”
You shoot her a glare. “I wasn’t going to-“
“Yes, you were.” She raises her brows. “Don’t.”
“But-“
“Don’t.”
“What if he needs something-“
“I texted his cousin. She knows what to do.”
“To…” You narrow your eyes, pulling your hands from Lois’ grip. “You know what’s going on with him, don’t you.”
Lois shrugs. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“Lois-“
“He’s going to be fine.” She says, giving you a firm look. “Don’t check on him.”
She walks away without another word.
On Friday, you go to Clark’s apartment.
You don’t go inside. Lois’ voice keeps ringing in your head, and while you’re more than willing to disobey her, it’s the way she’d said it.
Don’t.
His door is right there.
Lois’ voice fills the gaps in city noise. Pointed and direct. Almost hopeless. Like she knew you wouldn’t listen.
Don’t.
You made him soup, because you’re pathetic. He’d left his jacket at work on Wednesday, and you’d brought it home to clean up before returning it. You’d had a whole painted daydream made of pastels and watercolor, where you’d give Clark his jacket, he’d swoon with how romantic that is, and then kiss you.
But like real watercolor, the colors bleed and run. Blur together. It’s too fuzzy a picture to be reality.
You stand at his door. You don’t remember walking inside the building.
Don’t.
But you want to.
Don’t.
He could need someone, what if his cousin was busy, what if he’s been waiting for you to check on him-
Don’t.
Lois’ voice isn’t louder than your heartbeat. But it’s level. And your pulse is erratic in your throat and fingers.
And you keep seeing Clark’s face. Keep thinking of how he’d been stiffer than concrete, until you’d moved away.
He wouldn’t want to see you right now. He’d made that clear.
You put the soup and jacket on the doorstep, and ring the doorbell.
Before Clark can open it, you walk away.
On Saturday, you hole up in your apartment and work.
It’s a distraction. Anything not to think of Clark. To think of how sick he is, how he might be in pain, how he might need help but not from you. How lately he can’t stand to be in the same room as you, and apparently everyone gets to know what’s going on with him except you-
You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.
This is exactly what you’re trying not to think about.
It’s hard, though. Impossibly hard. If only because you open your email, and see a bunch of messages from Clark. You open Teams, and his messages are pinned at the top. You send Jimmy something, and have to include Clark as a contributor. Lois sends you something, and Clark is CC’d.
He’s everywhere. You can’t stop checking your phone for a message, even if Jimmy says he’s basically out of commission. Can’t really do anything right now, he’d grumbled, making a sour face. Too… Sick.
He’d said it weird, but everything about this is weird.
Usually you’d talk to Clark about that.
You miss him.
Goddamnit.
Apparently, you’re very bad at not thinking about Clark.
You busy yourself. Clean the apartment, do the laundry, waste the day, don’t think about Clark.
He gave you this pencil. Let you borrow this sweater, that you’ve been hoarding like a dragon with gold since. Sent you the cheesecake in the back of your fridge as a birthday present, and it had been horrible but you’d kept it anyway.
You lie flat on the floor, and fail not to think about Clark a little more. Maybe you should text him. Just so he knows you’re thinking of him. Or text Lois and ask for his cousin’s number, so you can ask her if he’s okay. Or let the anxiety fully overpower Lois’ voice in your head, and go visit him.
You’re about to go with that last option, when there’s a bang on your window. You shoot up with wide eyes, expecting a massive bird.
Instead you find Superman, standing in your fire escape. It’s hard to see him, in the shadows of dusk. His head is strangely bowed, his shoulders slumped in a way you’ve never seen on TV. Maybe he’s just more casual, when he’s doing home visits.
But why is he home visiting you.
Usually that would freak you out. This week, it’s just another fucking thing.
You open the window slowly, poking your head outside.
“Hello?”
Superman looks up at you, and your mouth goes dry.
He doesn’t look well.
Red and pale face, messed up hair, heaving chest. Clenched fists, sweat-slicken face, blown out eyes with barely a ring of blue-
Like Clark.
Just like Clark.
And it’s not just the ragged appearance. It’s something deeper. It’s the way he’s staring at you like he’s worried you’re going to attack him. Like he’s restraining himself from moving, like you’re a repellant and he wants to fly away.
Or something else.
Without the glasses, there’s something else.
He looks desperate. The shadows on his face look longer. Maybe it’s just the sickness overtaking him, but he looks hungry. Desperate and starved. There’s an openness on his face that wasn’t there before. And he’s not looking at you like he’s afraid or skittish.
He’s looking at you like he’s a predator. Like you’re prey.
“Clark?”
“I’m here for your interview-“
You speak at the same time. Your voice is a breath. Superman—Clark? —pushes out his words like they hurt, and falters in a second.
He stumbles back like he’s been hit. You scramble forward to catch him, your body not worried about anything but Clark is going to fall.
Your hand wraps around his wrist. He makes a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. Almost a growl.
His eyes flutter. He moans out your name, trying to tug weakly away.
“Clark- Wait-“
Superman’s body goes slack, and he collapses in your arms.
At one in the morning on Sunday, too much is happening.
You put Clark—Superman? —in your bed. Took his temperature and dropped the thermometer in shock.
He’s burning at 150 degrees.
He should be dead. You’re not even sure how you touched him without burning up.
The thermometer clatters to the ground, and Clark shifts in his sleep. Groans out a garbled, pained noise that sounds like your name.
You swallow, hugging yourself tight. It’s hard not to reach out to him, but you don’t feel like you should. He hadn’t wanted you near him, and you’ve already crossed a few lines by putting him in your bed.
Then he moans, ripping the thin sheets off his body.
That time it was definitely your name.
Superman moaned your name.
You back out of the room slowly, with an embarrassing amount of effort. You can’t rip your eyes away from him.
Clark in your bed, calling for you and rolling around like a rutting beast. Whatever’s tormenting him isn’t enough to wake him up, but it’s enough to drive you out of your mind. You bite the inside of your cheek, and force yourself to close the door. It solves the looking at him problem.
It does nothing for hearing him.
And he’s loud. You’re lucky the apartments have thick walls between units, or you’d get a noise complaint. Clark is almost howling from his room, and whenever you give into temptation and go to check on him, he’s somehow managed to rip another item of clothing off in his sleep.
It starts with his top. The symbol on his chest gets torn to shreds, revealing a broad, flushed chest. He’s got a small happy trail. Muscles that you want to trace, and boobs that might be bigger than yours.
Your eyes wander to his abdomen. There’s a happy trail that leads down, down, down, and-
Oh.
That’s… Big.
You slam the door closed, and run back to the kitchen. Cold water does nothing against the heat building in your core. You splash it on your face and drink two glasses, but you might as well be downing sea salt. You’re thirstier than when you started.
The image seems to be burned behind your eyes. Clark’s bulge. Superman’s bulge.
You still haven’t really dealt with that.
Clark is Superman. Superman is Clark. You’re sure. You’ve spent the last hour on the couch, sketching out timelines and checking your work. The random disappearances in the middle of the day. How you’ve never seen him get drunk. The fact that he’s built like a Greek god but never works out, and whenever Jimmy asks him for a routine he just says grow up on a farm.
And be a Kryptonian. That would probably also help.
To be sure—you have to be positive, before Superman wakes up and you start throwing around accusations—you cut out a pair of paper glasses and build up all your courage.
When you step into your room, it hits you like a tidal wave. The smell of sex, sweat and cum and something deeper. Clark’s ripped off his tights, and apparently the outside boxers are the only thing he’d been using for cover.
You don’t let yourself look. Your traitorous eyes try to, but you refuse to glance past his thick thighs. You won’t violate him like that. You’re here for confirmation, and nothing else.
Carefully, you wipe the sticky hair from Clark’s brow. His whole body shudders under your light touch, and he bucks up to chase your fingers when you pull away. A deep whine escapes from his lips, and you swallow.
Dear lord.
Very, very slowly, you put the paper glasses on his nose. He wrinkles it, trying to buck them off, but you plant a hand on his chest.
You don’t mean to. You move before you can think.
Clark relaxes. His body goes slack like putty, save for a single hand flying to your wrist, holding tight.
He could break you. He’s Superman. You’ve watched—albeit from afar—him pick up whole buildings. But his touch on you is light, as if you’re glass. His jaw relaxes. A purr rumbles under your hand, and his thumb starts to trace small circles.
You stare at him, every logical thought in your head evaporating in the heat of the room. The glasses confirmed exactly what you wanted them to.
Clark is Superman,
And somehow, that’s the least important thing that’s happening right now.
His brow is unfurrowed, his mouth hanging open as he pants out your name.
“Clark?” You breathe, and he moans.
This time, he calls your name. His eyes flutter in his sleep, and his hand starts to move. Dragging yours down his chest. Over his pecs, his ribs, to his abdomen and-
You yank away with a squeak, when you realize. Clark whines, immediately seizing up the second you pull away.
He looks like he’s in pain. Your touch helped, and he’d liked it, and-
No. You can’t. You won’t. You’re stronger than that, and he’s not in his right mind. Whatever’s effecting him—whatever’s strong enough to effect Superman—can’t be letting him think clearly. It would be one thing if he asked. Another to touch him in his sleep, just because he’d moved your hand there. He probably doesn’t even know it’s you.
But he’d been calling your name. He’s calling your name right now.
The steam of the room is getting to your head. You stumble away, squeezing your eyes shut when Clark keens in pain.
If you weren’t such a masochist, you’d put in earbuds to avoid hearing him. But he keeps calling your name.
And you’re not that strong at all.
Clark wakes up at four in the morning. You haven’t even managed to close your eyes.
You’re so dazed from the everything that you don’t hear him coming. You just realize the moans have stopped, and hear a quiet mumble of your name.
When you turn, Clark’s standing in the door of the living room.
He’s naked.
Fully naked.
And this time, you’re too tired stop your eyes from wandering.
He’s glorious. It’s not just the muscle and size of him, it’s all Clark. How his flexing arms are the ones that catch up when you stumble over yourself, and his legs are the ones that bring you coffee in the morning. Those fisted hands hold your hair back when you’re sick and boop your nose. His tense knees bump against yours under almost every table, and his chest keeps you tucked safely away from the world whenever you have a meltdown.
But it’s also the muscle and size of him. He looks wound up, so tight you’re worried he may snap. The coat of sweat on his skin is begging to be licked off, and his thick arms could wrap around your neck and you wouldn’t complain.
And his cock.
You don’t know how he manages to walk around with that thing. It’s bigger than the toys you’ve seen in shops, bigger than the ones in porn that have to be fake, bigger than the lewdest drawings on the internet. Thick and veiny, hard and standing proud. His balls are heavy, and you kind of want to put them in your mouth. Every inch of him is slicked with cum, and you realize you just licked your lips far too late.
Clark clears his throat. You look up with burning cheeks and wide eyes.
“Clark, I- I’m so sorry-“
“Don’t.” He mutters, shifting on his feet. You can see his arms jerking wildly. Like he’s actively stopping them from moving. “I’m the one that should be sorry, I- I shouldn’t have come here.”
He winces at his own word choice, rubbing a stain of release on his thigh. He’d been humping the sheets all night. You’d heard the squeak of the mattress, and-
“I broke your bed.” He mumbles, not meeting your gaze. “I’ll fix it when- This passes.”
“Clark-“
“Stop saying it like that.”
You blink. Clark takes a deep breath, and looks up at you.
His eyes are shining. You can’t tell if it’s with frustration, or sadness, or that something else.
“Please don’t say my name. Like that, or- At all.” His throat bobs. “It makes everything very hard.”
Your lips twitch, and you glance back to his dick. He sighs.
“Yeah. I know. There are only so many words I can use, you know.”
You laugh softly, despite everything.
Clark grabs the doorframe with a groan. It cracks under his hands, and he won’t stop staring at you,.
“Don’t laugh either.”
“I- I’m sorry-“
“And don’t apologize, or- Or look at me-“
He cuts himself off with a long moan, and you fix your gaze very pointedly on the ceiling.
“Cla-“ You cut yourself off. “Should I call you Superman?”
“No- That- That’s weird-“
“Kal-El?”
“Worse.” He grunts, and you sigh.
“I need to be able to call you something.”
“It would be better if you didn’t talk, actually.”
That makes you glare at him. He winces, face scrunching in apology.
“No, not- Not like that-“
“Not like what-“
“It’s just, when you talk-“
“It’s hard?” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re so mad all of a sudden. Maybe it’s how you haven’t slept in almost two days.
It’s probably that. But also, something needs to break. If Clark just Supermans away after everything, you’re going to kill him.
“Please don’t sat that word.” Clark mumbles, and you shake your head.
“No. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen and give me answers.”
“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea-“
“You don’t get to decide what’s a good idea right now, boner-boy.”
He wrinkles his nose. “That… Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Maybe, but you know what’s also not fair?” You cross your arms over your chest, raising your chin. “Ignoring your best friend for a week, then showing up with a fever and- And magic boner then telling her to shut up!”
“I didn’t tell you to shut up-“
“You said I shouldn’t talk.”
“I said it would be better if you didn’t talk.” He mumbles, staring at the floor. “That’s not the same-“
“Shut up.”
“Sorry.”
The wall cracks further. You wrinkle your nose.
“You better fix the wall, Kent.”
“I will. ‘M sorry-“
“Stop apologizing to me, and just- Just tell me what’s wrong!”
You take a step forward. Clark shrinks back, but doesn’t move away.
“You’re not allowed to- To be mad.” He glances up under his lashes, and lets out another labored sigh. “Be more mad.”
That’s not promising, but your worry outweighs your anger. You nod, watching him expectantly. He closes his eyes, like he can’t bear to see your reaction.
“You know kryptonite?”
You blink. “Of course I know kryptonite, I don’t live under a rock.”
“Right. Well,” he coughs. “There’s, uh- This thing. Called red kryptonite. And it does… Weird things. To me. And other Kryptonians. Which is just Kara- My cousin- I think you’d like her-“
“Clark.”
“Sorry- Sorry.” He groans. You can trace a bead of sweat down his brow.
“Red kryptonite?” You prompt, softer than before.
His cock twitches. You try not think about it.
“I got exposed to some.” He mumbles. “Last weekend. And it never does the same thing twice, but usually it’s something like… Shrinking me. Flipping my personality, or giving me an extra power or curse or- Once it turned me into a fish-“
“It what-“
“I got better.” He says quickly. “But it’s usually immediate. This wasn’t. I- I even hoped I got lucky. That it wasn’t going to effect me at all. Then I got into the office on Monday, and saw you, and…”
He trails off, words hanging in the air.
Saw you.
You activated the red kryptonite in him.
There’s a very reasonable guess to what it’s doing. You still need to hear him say it, before you do something about it.
“What happened when you saw me?” You breathe, and he gives you a pleading look.
Makes a loose gesture to his erection. You bite back a smile. He’s going to need talking into this.
“Clark.” You say gently, and he groans.
“Please don’t make me say it.”
You give him a look, and he turns even redder than before. Stares down at his feet like a scolded child. It’s almost adorable, while also remaining impossibly hot.
“It’s very… Demanding.” He mumbles. “About certain things that I would like to do. And it is very particular about who I need to do it with. But- I can’t ask that of you-“
“Can’t you?”
Your question is quiet. You know he’ll hear you.
And Clark’s head snaps up, his jaw hanging open. He shakes his head.
“You- You can’t mean that-“
“Why not?”
You take a small step forward. Clark grabs the other side of the door way, tracking your every movement with that predatory focus.
“I’d like to.” You murmur. He grunts.
“You don’t have to pity me-“
“It’s not pity.”
He chuckles dryly. “Feels like it. I know you don’t- That’s not how you feel-“
“Who says it’s not how I feel?”
You fix him with a challenging glare, and Clark swallows.
“Uhh… Steve?”
You scoff. “Steve’s been trying to ask me out for three years, of course he’d tell you that.”
Clark shakes his head, his whole body trembling.
You’ve stopped a foot away. More than close enough for him to grab you. But he has to make that final step himself.
“I- I could hurt you.” He says, giving you that puppy look.
You shrug. “I like being hurt a little.”
His cock jumps. He doubles over, and you’re a little worried he’s going to break your whole apartment if he doesn’t move soon.
“Clark.” You whisper, taking a small step forward. “I trust you. And I- I want this. I want you.”
“No, you-“
“Don’t tell me what I feel.”
He shuts his mouth, still giving you that desperate look. You want to soothe him, but you just hold your ground.
“Will it hurt you?” You ask. “If you ignore it?”
He nods, tight and controlled.
You steel yourself, even as your nerves start to buzz.
Not with fear.
With excitement.
“Then use me.” You whisper, holding his darkened gaze. “Please.”
And Clark snaps.
He kisses you so hard you stumble. Knees buckle as Clark’s fevered lips overtake yours, and your startled squeal only lets him kiss you deeper. Your fingers fly out for something to hold onto, and find only the air.
Clark picks you up like you’re made of feathers, and there’s something steady about there being no ground at all.
If you were in your right mind, you’d think something about free fall and having no worry if there’s nowhere for impact. If you can only be caught.
But you’re not in your right mind. Because Clark isn’t kissing you like a kiss.
He’s inhaling you, and it’s already lighting you on fire.
There’s a thick arm wrapped around your waist, the other holding your back. A hand wrapped around your neck, angling him to kiss as deeply as he wants. His tongue presses over yours as he walks himself backwards.
You push back, and he moans. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Clark’s back hits the wall, his legs sinking slightly as you make out. Nothing in his hold on you falters. If anything, it tightens. Like even with your open mouth moving against each other, there’s no way he can get close enough.
You respond to everything he gives you. Clark squeezes the back of your neck lightly, and you hum happily, smiling into the kiss. He grunts, when you thread your fingers through his hair.
He sinks further down, kisses turning short and desperate. He sucks on your lower lip, nipping softly and hauling you further up his body. Your nails dig into his scalp, and he drops his arm on your waist to grab your ass.
“Clark-“
“So- Sorry-“ He groans, and you can feel him rolling beneath you, trying to get himself back under control. “You’re just- So pretty, and- And soft, and-“
He drops fully to the floor, and you start slightly when he rips his mouth from yours, before burying his face in your neck.
“Smell so good.” He almost whines. “So good.”
You take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself. You’re the sane one right now. The Clark beneath you is still your Clark, but he’s also a man who’s in a fugue state of lust. Not the mild, usually level headed, noble little dork you love.
Clark whines, when you run your nails gently against the back of his neck. He’s almost shaking, kissing and sucking on your neck like he can’t even help himself. You don’t think he can.
It makes sense why he was avoiding you. This would’ve been quite the HR violation in the copy room.
“It’s okay.” You coo, kissing the side of his head. “You can take what you need, Clark, I told you I want it-“
“You- You can’t-“
“Don’t tell me what I get to want-“
“No, you can’t.” He detaches himself from your neck, going completely still. His grip on your hips is bruising.
You don’t mind at all.
“I’ll hurt you.” He mutters, and you sigh.
“We talked about this-“
“I’ll hurt you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, over pouncing each word, and you stare at him for a moment.
You shift in his lap, trying to peer closer, and he hisses. His fingers dig into your sides, and his head slowly bows against your chest. Licking and kissing softly, as if he can’t physically stand to be that far from you.
And you feel it.
The literal alien cock pressing against your ass. You’d think was a stick if you didn’t know better.
Oh.
Right.
Clark must hear the way your heartbeat picks up, and put it together. He sighs, warm breath tickling over your breasts.
“I need to get you ready.”
You swallow. “I- I’m pretty-“ You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, and there’s the familiar tingling ache that’s always a good sign. “I feel pretty ready-“
Clark grunts. “Not ready enough.”
“How do you know-“
“Nose.”
“Nose- Oh.” You flush. He can smell your arousal. “But that’s a good thing, right-“
“Not enough.”
He seems reduced to short worded grunts. You’re not faring much better, but there’s also a massive man below you that can’t stop sucking around your tits.
“Can you… Always smell me?” You manage to ask, and he hums.
That’s his agreement hum.
Your jaw drops.
“Are you serious-“
“I can’t help it.”
“You- You could wear nose plugs-“
“No. Like it too much.”
Your thighs squeeze, those deep words shooting straight to your cunt, and Clark groans.
“You- Can’t move-“
“You should move-“
“Won’t hurt you.” He grunts, like he’s making a vow. “Just- Need a second.”
You let out a slow breath, looking up to the ceiling. The idea comes faster than you want to admit, but you’re desperate.
“You were better when you woke up.” You say causally, stroking your fingers through his hair. “Lucid.”
Clark grunts. You smile at the air.
“You came in bed last night.”
He stiffens slightly. “Wet dream.”
“About who?”
You feel the ghost of a smile, against your chest. “You’re very… Mouthy. Like this.”
And you’ve been told that before. But something about the way Clark says it—like something he’s measuring, a note he’s jotting down for a piece—makes you feel all glowy and stupid inside.
“Wow. Mouthy.” You tease. “Not very polite, Clark.”
“There are other words I could’ve used for it.” He mumbles, and you giggle.
“Yeah? Like what?”
Clark draws slowly back, staring at you with those drunken, dark eyes.
“A brat.”
A lot of the fight leaves you, very fast. No ones ever looked at you like that. Like you’re something they want to chew on, carefully and deeply. To leave a mark while keeping every part of you both ruined and intact.
And his voice. Lower than you’ve ever heard, and hoarse with desire. You were already a lot woman. This just seals your fate.
“I should jerk you off.” You blurt.
Clark makes a sound like a wounded animal, and drops his brow against yours.
“You- You can’t just say that-“
“But it will help.” You give him your best, pouty and pleading expression. “You’ll feel better enough to- To get me ready.” You try to keep your voice level, as if you’re not thrilled just to say the words. “And then… More.”
Clark doesn’t answer. He just closes his eyes again, breathing heavily through his mouth. You wait, but you start to get a little worried he didn’t hear.
“Can you please look at me-“
“No.” He grinds out, and you frown. Reach up to cup his face.
“Clark-“
“Don’t ask me to move.” His words are tight. Pushed through his teeth.
You feel his cocks twitch, near your ass.
“Clark.” You make your voice soft. Traced the tensed line of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. He whimpers at the touch, and you smile. “It’s okay.”
“I- I need to get you-“
“I’m going to touch you, okay?”
His throat bobs, but he nods. Short and tight.
Enough.
You scoot back, and Clark lowers his legs at a painfully slow pace you accommodate you. Your ass drags over his dick, and he hisses, rutting up.
“Sorry-“
“It’s okay.” You say quickly, smiling slightly. “Good preview.”
He looks at you in befuddled exasperation. Opens his mouth like he’s going to snap something else out about you being a brat.
You settle against his knees, and don’t give him a chance.
The sound Clark makes when you wrap your hand around his cock is holy. Deep and guttural, like a man already wrecked. You let him sit in your loose grip for a second, watching his chest heave and eyes flutter.
He’s throbbing under your touch. You can barely hold him with the single hand.
You add a second, and squeeze at the base.
Clark makes another one of those beautiful noises, and grabs your wrist.
“Be- Be careful.”
You pause. “Does it not feel-“
“Feels good.” He grunts. “Too good. Gonna- Oh, fuck-“
Your mouth falls open. Clark swore.
You started to stroke his cock, and he swore.
And more. You need more. More of his swears, his sounds, his sweat running down his bare chest and the way he’s moaning your name. You need to see him fall apart, because once he’s back in control—once this massive dildo of a dick is inside you—you’re not going to be able to focus on such things.
You set a quick pace. Skin slapping and hot, unraveling him quickly.
Clark calls your name, his hands slamming back to grab at the walls. You watch in awe as his fingers sink into the wood, creating a slot for him to hold onto.
“Like- Like that- Shit.” He tosses his head back, moaning loud and lewd. “Yeah, baby, oh- Right there-“
He cuts himself off, rolling his hips up into your touch. You squeeze him again, switching your hands so one can thumb at the weeping slit on his head. Pre-cum leaks all over your fingers, and your lean further down.
You want to taste him.
When you slide off his legs—keeping your hands working—Clark says your name in a rough, garbled warning.
“What- What are you-“
You wrap your lips around the tip of him, flicking your tongue where your thumb had been. Clark makes a sound you’ve never heard from anyone before, his free hand flying to grab your neck.
The grip is tight, but painless. You’re in no danger of pain.
There’s something thrilling about how he’s gripping you so possessively. Like a life line.
You drop your hand to play with his balls. Clark bucks up into your mouth, bumping against the back of your throat.
“Sorry- Fucking Christ-“
You moan happily around him, drooling lips pushing down further. Your tongue swirls around him, and you suck, bobbing your head up and down. Trying to make him lose control again.
It doesn’t take long. Not when you reach up to his hand on your neck, and push it down.
“Are you-“
You moan, and Clark gives in.
He fucks your face like it’s a toy. Cock slipping in and out from between your lips, your spit staining with his pre-cum. Tears prick at your eyes, but you dig your nails into his thighs, refusing to be pulled off.
“Look- Look at you- Holy- Holy shit-“
Clark moans your name, and you let your hand drift back his balls. He slams up at the featherlight touch, and the tears start to flow.
“You’re so good at this sweetheart, so- So good-“ Clark moans, hips thrusting to meet every bob of your head. “Your mouth is so warm, and- And soft-“
You suckle lightly, the praise going right to your core. Your ass is sticking in the air, grinding up into nothing as he uses you.
And you can feel how close he is. His balls are tightening under your fingers, his cock twitching and pulsing, and-
Clark yanks you off suddenly, with one last cry of your name. Before you can protest or try to go back down, you see why.
He’s cumming.
And he’s not stopping.
Thick white ropes spurt from his dick, and you stare, transfixed. Every time you think he must be done, more comes. When the geyser finally stops, there’s not a place it hasn’t hit.
Clark lets out a shaky breath. You look up to him with wide eyes. He stares back, licking his lips.
“If you-“
“Do that inside me.”
You speak at the same time again. Clark blinks, leaning back slightly, and you flush.
“I- I mean- Clark-“
He starts to drag you forward, and your words turn into a squeak. Your being manhandled right into his lap, your ass still sticking up in the air and your hands just barely bracing you on the ground.
“I heard you.” He drawls, running a hand over the curve of your ass. “Pretty well, actually.”
His hand drags over your exposed core, and you whimper.
“Don’t- Don’t tease-“
“Trust me.” He mutters darkly. “I won’t.”
Two thick fingers toy at your clit, and you push yourself higher into the air. He knows exactly how to flick that little button, to drive you insane.
“Oh- Oh god-“
“If I had time.” Clark murmurs, almost to himself. “I’d keep you here for the rest of the day. Watch the sweetness drip down your legs,” his fingers trace over your sensitive inner thighs. “Let you make a mess in my lap. Wait ‘till you’re begging for it, then touch you,” one, broad finger rubs around your fluttering hole. “Nice and slow, until you feel what I’m dealin’ with right now.”
You moan, gaping at the floor. Clark gets a southern, Kanas drawl when he’s horny. It makes you clench around nothing, and he chuckles.
“Oh, you like that.” He presses the tip of his finger in, and you whine. “Yeah, I know. Know better than anyone, sweetheart.”
He pushes his hips slightly, forcing your ass higher into the air. There’s a rip, and cold air hits your core, making you shiver. His cock, still so hard, bumps against your tummy right as his finger slips into your cunt.
“Claaaark.” You moan, squeezing tight around him.
You’re rubbing backwards, trying to take him deeper. He splays one hand on your lower back, keeping you from getting what you want while still letting you chase the false hope.
He crooks his finger slightly, twisting it in a circle. You go limp, wrapping your arms around his thigh and pressing your cheek down for support.
“That’s it.” He mutters. “Just seeing what you need, it’s alright. Shit,” he lets out a sharp breath, cock twitching against you. “You’re so wet. I- I gotta-“
You hear it start to possess him, and you can’t be surprised when he pulls the finger out. Still, you twist to whine at him, maybe try to drag his hand back. He’s strong, but you’re horny, and that’s sure to help you somehow.
Instead, you trip on your own hands and collapse back down at the sight before you.
Clark cleaning your arousal off his fingers, eyes closed and face slack like he’s having a fine meal.
You can’t look away from it. It’s the hottest, most lewd thing you’ve ever seen. You whimper when he goes back into for more, dragging two fingers between your pussy lips before returning them to his mouth. He does it over, and over, and over again. Sometimes giving a little attention to your clit, like he’s milking you for more.
You’re a flushed, wiggling mess when he finally pulls his fingers away with a pop. His eyes are wholly black, gleaming with lust and fixed on yours.
There’s nothing left of you but putty, when Clark slowly starts to rub your pussy again. You’re a smeared, wrecked mess that can’t stop grinding back onto his hand, and he smiles down at you.
It’s predatory, but still soft. Exactly what you expect from him now. Pulling out the hair that got stuck in your mouth, all while slowly fingering your cunt.
“Wanted to do that for so long.” He coos, pushing two fingers deep inside of you. “You’d come into the office and start gettin’ wet right next me, I was slobbering like a dog. Thought I’d lose my mind, every single day.”
His fingers go deeper, bumping against your g-spot. You keen, making an almost unearthly sound from your chest. Clark notices it. Of course he does.
“There she is.” He mutters, starting to pump his fingers fast. Pushing against the gummy point over and over, until you’re drooling.
Your head has never been this empty during sex before. But you’ve also never been put over Clark’s lap like this. Fingered into oblivion while his dick pushes into your stomach. You start to push up—he needs attention—but Clark pushes you back down with a grunt.
“Need to be inside you.” He grunts. “Need you ready.”
Well. If he needs it.
It’s easy to relax into the feeling. Clark starting to thumb at your clit, rubbing it back and forth like a bop-it toy. Between that and his fingers, Clark is almost pulling pleasure out of you like a machine. It doesn’t take long for you to feel like you’re close. Your face his presses into his bare leg, your pussy fully pried open and well touched. You can feel the familiar tension inside you, about to burst.
“Clark- Clark-“ You don’t have the strength to twist, so you scratch at his leg. “I- I’m gonna-“
“I know.” He mutters, and fuck, you don’t doubt him. “Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart. Cum on my hand, let me feel it.”
It only takes a few more moments. Release hits you quickly, and lasts long. Thighs shaking and loud moans escaping your lips as Clark keeps playing with you.
You’re dazed from the orgasm. It’s the strongest you’ve ever felt, and your cunt is still pulsing when Clark’s fingers pull away.
“You’re ready.” He mutters, and you agree with a garbled sound.
He laughs, leaning down to kiss the back of your head as you quiver. He pulls you up into his lap, and you can feel his cock sliding between your folds. Both of your are so slick with everything there’s no friction. The tension in Clark tells you he’s close to going feral again, but his voice is still sweet.
“Just- Stay like that, beautiful.” He kisses the side of your head. “And if it- If anything starts to feel bad, tell me. I’ll stop.”
And you believe him. You know just how much this is affecting him, but you also know he’s Clark. And there isn’t a force on earth that could make him hurt you like that.
“Can you- Can you please say you’ll tell me-“
“I’ll tell you.” It’s barely more than an exhale.
Clark hears it.
“Good. Good girl.” He kisses your neck this time, and you whimper. “Let me- Can’t do it here. Not right.”
You’re not sure what he’s talking about until you’re airborne. Clark tosses you over his shoulder, holding you steady with one arm around your knees, and you blink at the cum and sweat stained floor. You might have to move, after this.
Maybe Clark could let you live with him.
Too fast. And not the thing to worry about right now.
Get fucked stupid, then think about your living situation and relationship status.
That’s a good plan. The best plan.
There really couldn’t be a better one, you decide. Not when Clark starts to rub your clit again, using the full pressure of his palm.
“Keeping her ready.” He rumbles, and you hum. You’re certainly not complaining.
You’re already close to another orgasm, when he lowers you down onto the bed. Your back hits the mattress, and you immediately reach between your thighs, fondling at your pussy hopelessly. Nothing feels as good as Clark’s hands. He might’ve already ruined you forever.
“Don’t do that.”
Those very hands catch your wrists. You stumble over your breath, when you look up at Clark.
He’s back into feral caveman mode. Stroking his cock with one hand, the other squeezing yours gently before setting it down at your side.
“I touch you.” He grunts, and you can’t argue with that.
You lay down, spreading your legs slowly. In offering. Clark makes that guttural sound, his dick somehow looking like it’s gotten harder. You swallow. It’s very hard not to touch yourself with a massive, hulking god standing over you and jerking himself off. For Clark, you’re going to try.
He’s been reduced back to deep noises from his chest and moans of your name, but he’s not making any attempt to move on you. He’s just… Staring.
Stroking his cock, and watching you. Looking between your wet, gaping pussy and flushed face, beating himself into his fist.
He moans, and doubles over. Pumps so fast his hand becomes a blur, and god you’d like him to do that to you later.
His face lands on your inner thigh. Soft stubble grazing the oversensitive area, cold breath pushing against your clit. You grab his hair, back arching off the bed at the taunting pleasure. Clark moans, watching you clench around nothing.
You cry, as his face fully presses into your cunt. It’s right as he finishes himself off, his cum painting the mattress and covering your ankles.
Clark rises back up, and for a second you just stare at each other.
“Didn’t mean to do that.” He rasps, and your lips twitch.
“I liked it.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course you did.”
Clark falls back over you, kissing you deep and slow. You call tell that the clear-headed affect of the orgasm is lasting for a shorter and shorter time.
And Clark choses to use it, just to kiss you.
He tests the head of his cock up and down your pussy, making sure to push it against your clit before going back down, and starting to slide slowly in. There’s almost no resistance, and he hums against your lips.
“Goin’ slow.” He mumbles. “While I can.”
You nod. It’s all you can manage.
He feels just as big—if not bigger—than he looked. Never has a cock stretched you so greatly, and so well. The fullness is incomparable, and you’d be worried you couldn’t take it if your pussy wasn’t greedily swallowing him whole.
“That’s it.” Clark groans, pushing in every inch so torturously and amazingly slow. Forcing you to feel every single inch. “There’s you go, just- Just take it- Fuuuck-“
He moans your name, and you kiss him. You want to feel everything he has, vibrating through your chest. Straight into your cunt.
Clark bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck. You blink up at the ceiling, trying to push off more tears. It’s good, unbelievably good, and your body doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Tight.” Clark mumbles against you, and you laugh breathily.
“Big.”
He looks up at you, and for a second, you only see Clark. Your best friend, looking out of you, always kinder than he needs to be.
“’m serious.” He says, low and rough. Like a secret. “When I call you pretty. When I- When I say I want you-“
You kiss him, and Clark melts into you in a second. You can’t stop your smile.
“I know.” You breathe, and he nods.
“Love you.” He pushes in almost an inch deeper, like the words spur him on. “So much.”
You blink, and his eyes widen.
“That’s- Um- I don’t think I meant to- You feel really good and my brain is soupy-“
Kissing to shut him up will only work so many times. You cover his mouth with your hand, every inch of you feeling alive. From his words, his body, every single inch of this glorious man that’s somehow, all yours.
“My brain is soupy too.” You whisper, clenching purposefully around his cock.
Clark grunts, rutting forward. You giggle, and he gives you a dangerous look.
“Very soupy. But,” You beam. “I love you too. And I’m very serious.”
Clark pauses. Smiles into your hand, eyes shining in the dark. You feel a little like your floating. You’d like to be rocketed right up to heaven.
“Make me dumb.” You breathe, and Clark’s shoulders square.
Your hand is knocked away in a second. His mouth attacks yours, and the moment he starts to move, an orgasm is ripped from your very core.
You scream, locking up and clenching around him. Clark moans against your lips, grabbing your knees and pushing them up to your chest. It’s a deep angle, and you can feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of your cunt. His balls slap near your ass, and his mouth hangs open as he stares down at him.
He’s fully gone to the red kryptonites effects. There’s no question, as he bends you in half and starts to fuck you like a doll. But he still doesn’t let his strength slip. You feel completely safe in his hands.
Safe and attended to.
You’ve never fucked a man who makes sure to hit your g-spot so much, and Clark’s barely even lucid right now. But he drills down into it, moaning your name and making those sinful, beautiful sounds.
It’s too much for your poor pussy. Two is a lot of orgasms. Three is your—usual—max, and that’s usually with time between. But Clark isn’t letting up. And you’re getting close again.
“Cla- Clark-“ You whine out, and he fucking growls. “Clark, I’m gonna-“
He makes a deep noise of understanding, and starts to fuck you harder. You cry out, grabbing uselessly at the sheets as the next release gushes from your pussy, flying up your spine like ecstasy.
Clark finds his own release there. With you clenching tight around him, writhing with overwhelmed pleasure and moaning his name like a hymn as you come. He throws his head back and starts to fuck like an animal, roaring your name.
He grabs your jaw, demanding your eyes on his. His thumb presses on your lower lip.
Cockdrunk and empty headed, you open your mouth and start to suck.
It feels even better than you’d thought. At first it’s nothing, just painting your walls and sticking so deep inside you, you think it knocks you into another, tiny orgasm. Then it’s more, spurting out of your pussy as he keeps fucking into you. An obscene fountain, staining your ass and thighs.
Then it’s too much. You’re not sure you can breathe, but the lights dancing on the edge of your vision only add to the euphoria.
Now, it’s everything. You’re full. So full. You never want to be empty again.
And you don’t think Clark would allow that anyway.
Because he’s still fully hard inside of you. And with how he’s staring at you, you don’t think there’s a space of sound mind anymore.
Clark just stares at you, still mindlessly sucking on his thumb and growls.
You giggle as he grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach. Drags your ass back up into the air and pushes himself back in with a thick moan.
There’s a chance that his cum is transferring some of the sexual stamina onto you. It’s the only possible way you can last this long. Clark fucks into you from behind, kissing up and down your spine as his balls slap against your clit. Your fourth orgasm hits you, and you think you see he stars.
Clark cums again. You don’t know how there’s still possibly space for it, but nature finds a way.
You giggle into the sheets. Clark kisses your shoulder, rutting deeper and deeper into your abused pussy.
He might take your laughter as a challenge. Suddenly you’re being flipped over, and Clark’s impaling you on his dick once more, forcing you to slide down and feel every inch.
It’s a good thing you get giggly when you have good sex.
If he sees it as a challenge, you’re ready to lose, over and over and over again.
On Sunday, Clark fucks you through the afternoon and into the night.
There isn’t a spot in the apartment that doesn’t feel the aftermath. After making you ride him, he clambered over you and held you to his chest, fucking you with just your knees on the bed. After that you ended up on your back, then riding him again, then somehow on the floor. Against the wall. In the doorway, your face pressed against the window, Clark flying and holding you in his lap. By the time the sun was over your head, you were a wordless, dumb mess. Clark had you in a headlock and you were smiling like an idiot, taking his cock over and over again until you think you reshaped each other.
Now, standing in the shower to wash off the everything, you think if you reached down and touched yourself, you’d find Clark completely rearranged your guts to his shape. When you’d looked at him during the soft, quiet cleanup, his cock had certainly looked like you’d molded him to only fit in you.
It’s an oddly romantic thought.
There are lots of those to go around.
Clark’s waiting for you in the living room. He’s been trying to clean, but you don’t think there’s a point.
“I told you I’m going to have to move,” you joke, and he sighs.
“Well, I- I really tried, but-“ He wrinkles his nose. “I think it got in things. When I- Yeah.” He groans. “I can see it.”
“See it-“
“X-ray vision.”
“Oh.” That fun revelation had gotten lost in everything else. It’s going to take some getting used to.
Clark bows his head, almost in shame.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you,” he mutters.
You shake your head. “It fine-“
“I wanted to-“
“Clark.” You place a hand on his chest, smiling softly. “It’s okay. Really.”
He blinks at you, then relaxes.
“Really?” He asks anyway, and you nod.
“Really.” You nod to the floor. “I can even start apartment hunting right now.”
Clark laughs at that, and you beam.
It’s the same. Even after I love yous and the sex marathon, it’s still just Clark. And you’re more lucky to have that, than anything else.
“You could move in with me.” He suggests quiet and nervous, and your eyes widen.
“I-“
“If it’s too fast, you don’t have to, I- Geez, I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet, never mind-“
“Clark.” You raise your voice, forcing him to quiet down. “I was thinking the same thing earlier.”
He starts slightly. His lips twitch. “You were?”
You nod, and he grins like you handed him the sun.
“It’s not- Maybe too fast-“
“Maybe.” You shrug. “But I- I’ve loved you for years.” You look down to your fingers. “And we kind of lived together before. For work. And you’re my friend, first, so if you think it’s fine-“
Clark pulls your own trick. He grabs your face, and shuts you up with a deep, long kiss. You smile, rising up to meet him, and it’s barely been a day, but it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m gonna do it right, though.” Clark says against your lips. “Take you out. Woo you.”
You laugh. “Bring it on.”
✦End note: sex pollen fics are so fun i feel like im getting a secondary high✦
✦If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3✦
his dick is heavy in his hand, flushed and leaking, the head slick as he runs it slowly through the slippery mess between your thighs. your folds are swollen, twitching with every brush of his tip.
his voice is rough when he whispers, “gonna ease it in, baby… s’gonna feel big. you tell me if it’s too much, alright?”
but you’re already nodding, legs spread wide, cunt stretched open and aching for him. the first inch pushes past your entrance and your body clenches around him immediately, sucking him in with a wet, squelching noise that makes his whole body jolt.
“oh—oh, sweetheart…”
his dick is so fat it forces your walls to stretch around him, snug and slippery and tight, and he’s biting his lip hard to keep himself from rutting deeper too fast. the air’s full of heat and moans, your gasps high and breathy while his are low, cracked, almost desperate.
he’s panting into your neck, trembling from restraint as he feeds you more. your pussy gives a sticky noise each time his hips nudge forward, and you can feel the drag of every vein along your inner walls, your muscles fluttering like you’re trying to spit him out but pull him deeper at the same time.
by the time he’s halfway in, your nails are digging into his back and your thighs are starting to shake. there’s a thick pressure deep in your belly, like your body’s being filled too full, and when you glance down, you can see the faint outline of him under your skin, stretching you out from the inside.
“just a lil’ more,” he groans, voice cracked. “you’re taking it—so good, baby, so soft down there, you’re squeezing me real tight…”
you whimper as he finally bottoms out, dick buried to the base, the thick root of it pressed firm against your overstretched entrance. he doesn’t move, breathing hard against your cheek, both of you dizzy from how deep he is.
your cunt pulses around him, dripping mess down onto the hairy base of his cock.
his hand finds your lower belly, palm spreading over that swollen spot where his dick bulges inside you.
“look at that,” he murmurs, in awe. “my sweet girl’s stuffed so full.”
he doesn’t even need to move. just the feeling of being buried inside you for the first time, the sight of your pussy stretched wide around him, your gasping mouth, your fluttering lashes, your slick dripping onto his thighs—it’s all too much.
he grinds in once—just to feel the way you tremble—and you both moan at the same time, breath tangled, filthy and flushed and soaking the bed.
and when he finally pulls back to push in again slow and deep, your whole body arches.
“there you go,” he groans, voice ruined. “that’s it, baby. open up f’me.”
"Stay With You" rockstar! male! werewolf x human! Reader
(A/N: After enjoying your favorite artists' concert, your best friend decides it's the precise time to fulfill their promise to you.
Warnings: use of (Y/F/N) for your first name, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, and minor angst
Word Count: 2,044 words)
~~~
Hidden by the clouds, the full moon patiently waited to illuminate the Hollowed Path Stadium as satisfied fans left the venue. Excited chatter could be heard within the stadium and beyond into the crisp night air.
Heartbeat still racing after the concert and to an impending moment your best friend had promised you weeks earlier, you stumbled along behind your friend. Perhaps the night of hearing your favorite songs live could give you courage through the night ahead. If your friend's promise wasn't too crazy to fulfill.
Your friend was buzzing with energy as they took you around to the back of the stadium, practically dragging you.
Upon seeing two large tour buses, the reality of the promise hit you in the chest. This could very well be the closest you would ever come to your favorite artist.
Surrounded by his staff, Atlas, was headed towards his black tour bus. His dark shoulder length hair was handsomely tousled after his performances. A three hour concert made him appear more alive even in the late hour.
"ATLAS!" Your friend yelled at the top of their lungs. "My best friend is your biggest fan!"
All heads turned to the pair of you as you stopped. Only Atlas appeared amused in the artificial lighting by the building.
Your fingers reflexively reached for your bracelets to fiddle with, a sort of comfort in a new situation. One you hoped would not embarrass you for all eternity.
"What's your friend's name?" Atlas called out.
They pulled you closer to him; about five paces away.
"(Y/F/N)!"
His gaze shifted to you, "Are you (Y/F/N)?"
You nodded, unsure what precisely to say and not trusting your voice. Making a fool of yourself in front of the singer was not a part of your agenda. Yet falling in love with his voice all over again was a strong possibility.
Taking a step forward, he sniffed the air. His fine, shoulder length hair shifted in the light breeze. A curious expression crossed over him.
Your friend nudged you roughly.
Giving a small wave, you managed a small, "Hello."
Atlas smiled and carefully shouldered passed his alert staff to reach you. Something about his movements were smooth and purposeful as a dance.
"Biggest fan, huh?" His gaze made your stomach flutter and your face warm. Atlas glanced to your friend and asked, "Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a few min--?"
"Go ahead!" They clapped you on the back hard enough to make Atlas wince.
In your personal space and close enough to smell his cinnamon cologne, Atlas wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Warm and more comforting than a slap on the back.
"I'm gonna show (Y/F/N) around a bit." Atlas announced and steered you towards a tour bus as your heart thudded in your chest.
The anxious looks of his staff did not go unnoticed by you. Holding the concert on this part of the month was a risk already.
"I still have time." He checked the cloudy sky above.
The moment you were inside the bus alone with Atlas, it all became very real. Your best friend had promised to have you meet the singer who brought so much art and emotions into your life. Being alone with the handsome creative was another subject altogether.
To the relief of your nerves and past questions of his character, Atlas was an empathic gentleman. From the second he opened the door and gestured you to enter first with a soft: "Watch for step.". You were struck with how kind he truly was.
As sweet as his lyrics.
He did his best to make you comfortable. From showing you around to making silly jokes. Letting you touch his favorite guitar. Never pressing for you to say anything if you found yourself starstruck every other moment.
Like a dream you wouldn't wake from.
Sitting on a cushioned bench, you watched as Atlas continued finding items to sign. A small pile of albums, posters, and oddly folded clothes sat beside you. All from his insistence to give you something.
You chuckled at his latest attempt of a moon joke.
"Hey. I'm doing my best." Atlas pointed a marker to his chest. The black moon graphic shirt he wore disguised any evidence of marker mishaps; its fabric fitting just right on his lean tan form. A rockstar after hours.
"Thank you." You said, fingers playing around your decorated wrist.
"I should be thanking you." He set the marker aside and knelt in front of you. "Without you, I'd still be writing and singing in my room. You've supported me for so long. Thank you." Atlas kissed both of your hands as he lifted them. "I couldn't ask for a better fan."
Overcome by emotions, you could hardly meet his steady gaze. His words touched your soul on a way his songs cradled you through dark nights. His kiss brightened the cloudy night outside.
Calloused fingers played with the handmade bracelets on your left wrist. Some is his song titles spelled out with beads.
"Are these your favorite songs?" Atlas tilted his head for a better look. Dark strands of hair falling over his face like a soft curtain.
"Top favorites," you clarified. "I love all of your songs."
He looked up at you with his warm light brown eyes. "You do?" He asked as softly as his thumbs circled over your wrist.
"The always make me feel...like I'm not the only one in the world with so many emotions. I don't feel alone on bad days and happier on good days."
"What about today? You were in the audience."
You smiled and gazed at where his hands met yours.
"Hearing you sing live isn't something I'm going to ever forget. You give so much. It's...well, it's extraordinary." You admitted openly.
Expecting him to speak again of his gratitude, you were surprised to hear him start singing. One of the songs you favored above all others. A song about wanting to find love and giving love with one's whole heart no matter what. His voice warmed your soul. It stole your breath.
Atlas serenaded you with full earnest, never looking away. All attention on you. It was enough to make you bashful from something so unexpected and pure.
Delicately, he set your hands behind his neck and held your chin so you could not hide your expression. He wanted this moment with you.
Your heart swelled from all of the affection and undivided attention. If you weren't careful, you would easily fall in love with your favorite artist.
Would that be so awful?
Song coming to a close, Atlas kissed your forehead with the final lyric.
"My heart has waited for you."
Tears threatened to fall as you both gazed at one another in the heavy silence. Hearts more open than before. Minds less inclined to consider the world outside and any concerns thought of earlier.
His nose bumped yours as Atlas went in for a kiss you had only dreamed of receiving. Grounding you to the moment with his hands firmly on your hips, he pressed forward. Lips warm and moving with open vulnerability with your own. Impassioned and electrifying.
Head becoming dizzy with emotion, you pulled away for a breath of air and Atlas let out an actual whine. Unwilling to part for long or have him unhappy, you kissed him. Not that you had to convince yourself. With the renewed reciprocation, he kissed more passionately. So unreserved. Kiss after kiss gave every indication of shared devotion for the other's actions. Both loyal and grateful.
You lightly scratched his scalp and immediately found yourself tugging him closer as he groaned pleasantly. It was better than and daydream. His lips traveled along your jaw in no rush as you gasped for air. Every touch nearly turning your mind into mush and causing your body to shiver in anticipation.
This was not a short bus tour. It was something more.
"Atlas," you panted in a heated daze.
The singer mouthed down the side of your neck and begun licking your pulse point with a passion only second to his performance on stage. It was a wonder how he had the energy to dedicate so much affection.
Softly, you tugged on his silky hair as Atlas' hands bunched up the back of your tour shirt. Very warm hands caressed your exposed skin with more need than any supposed possession; even as his hold grew stronger.
Your meeting was more than an introduction. More than a promise made by a friend and more than a quick exchange of emotions.
"I should let you go," Atlas murmured before nibbling your earlobe. His words and hot breath sent a shiver down the length of your body. "It's a full moon." He kissed down the column of your throat, continuing despite him voicing his concerns.
"I know." You parted your legs to allow him to lean into you on the bench, taking some of his weight off of his knees. To keep him close and safe.
"I don't want you to be scared."
"You shouldn't be alone," you whispered.
Pushing him back from you to look him in the eyes, you noticed the extra hair that had grown as Atlas had been kissing you. You brushed your fingers over his currently hairy cheek. His light brown eyes watching you in wide wonder.
"You...you would stay with me?" He panted, both from the intimacy and the beginnings of his change.
"I will. If you let me."
You could feel the tremors and shifts already happening beneath his skin. The light sheen of sweat collecting at his natural hairline started dampening his silky hair.
"Please." His voice cracked.
Cradling his cheeks, you planted a kiss to his forehead. Your heart would cry if it could. Your admiration for Atlas had steadily grew into something stronger.
"Whatever you need."
Pushing himself to his feet, Atlas sucked in a breath as his body tensed and pulled. You stood up quickly and carefully rubbed his arms.
Through the thin blinds of the bus' window, the light of the full moon filtered in. There would be no delaying his transformation any longer.
Atlas led you to the back of the bus where his bed took up most of the room. Large and comfortable for the two of you as you climbed in. He shut the door before quickly removing his clothes and tossing them aside.
As much as you enjoyed seeing him, it hurt to witness his pain as the werewolf transformation accelerated.
You made him a promise and were determined to keep it. For him.
Pops and cracks filled the room with the chilling reality. Each alteration pained Atlas. In your presence, he attempted muffling his gasps and groans. There was no need to hide how he felt. Not anymore.
"I'm here," you whispered.
Keeping a hand on his cheek as he writhed atop the mattress, you did what you could to comfort him. Soft words and touch to remind him that he was looked after. Not alone. Not a performer to pity.
Atlas' tears soaked a wet spot on the comforter. Sweat flattened patches of his dark fur to his larger form. Finally laying still with his chest slowing as he breathed. Completely exhausted.
"Are you alright?" You ran your fingers through the fur on his back.
Atlas hummed low in his throat.
"Good." You sighed on relief and kissed his forehead sweetly. "Just rest. I'll be here." You kissed his warm cheek.
A single shaking paw reached out and touched your waist.
No question was necessary.
Without a word, you moved closer. Sharing heat and comfort.
Night rolled on with the full moon high in the sky. No one entered the bus or called for Atlas. All was quiet. The staff remained in their buses for the night. Your friend sent a single message if their location and hopes that you were enjoying your time.
The night and meeting with your favorite rockstar could not had been any more life changing. New dreams of your future cultivated in your mind as Atlas and yourself slept in a loving embrace underneath the moonlight. Staying together.
~~~
~~~
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Hi, I have no idea wether this kinda dynamic is allowed, but tell me if I'm committing a crime.
Gay werewolf and vampire husbands.
Werewolf husband absolutely exhausted (unknown reasons) to a point he can barely stay awake and defenseless against sassy hungry vampire husband.
Vampire husband deciding that a blowjob would be the perfect fit, so he bites the blood out of his husband's thighs while holding his hips down and edging him enough times to turn him into a whimpering, sobbing mess.
Werewolf husband whining, mumbling and trying to warn his husband that he won't be able to hold back the knot.
Werewolf husband too shaky and oversensitive to muster strength and force his husband's mouth away from the knot.
Vampire husband who stubbornly doesn't listen, claiming he can take it.
Your werewolf husband has been very quiet, his head keeps lolling back against the cushions on the other side of the sofa and he looks utterly adorable, much to your demise. You want to jump him right there.
If there’s something that will forever turn you on is your werewolf husband being all soft and vulnerable around you. Maybe it’s because you are a very old vampire, maybe it’s because he’s always acting so though and mighty and the second he’s tired he looks especially delicious…
Fuck, your dick is getting hard in your sweats and he looks so yummy… His furry chest completely exposed, his pants too low on his hips… You need him. You need him ASAP.
You use your super speed to jump on top of him, too fast for him to react before your hands are pulling at his pants, and he’s letting out a choked breath when your mouth closes around his soft shaft. “What are you do-” His question dies on his lips when you start to suck, your fangs gracing his tip and driving him completely insane.
He’s chubbing up in your mouth while his head falls back and his claws find your hair. He pulls at the soft strands, chanting your name in a plea above your head. The floor is cold and rough under your knees, but you don’t fucking care when he’s moaning your name so beautifully.
Your husband is at the brink of orgasm in seconds, the threat of your fangs added to your non-existent gag reflex sending him into a frenzy, fucking into your mouth carelessly. You moan around him, and his hand tightens around your hair.
And then you stop.
“No, no, no… Babe, please. Please. I’ve been good. Let me come. Make me come, please.” His begging is so sweet you lower your head to suck him back into your mouth, your own hand finding your dick in your sweats and start stroking slowly.
But you don’t let him come this time either. Nor the next one. Or the next one. He’s begging, sobbing, desperately trying to orgasm but unable to when you don’t let him. After a while, you pull back. He looks completely broken, and so very beautiful. “Are you going to knot my mouth?” You ask him with a smirk and a voice that sounds so messed up his eyes roll back into his head.
He nods frantically, his dick leaking profusely right in front of you before you go for it. You redouble your efforts, and he groans brokenly. “I can’t- Please,” his voice sounds wrecked, and you smile around his shaft, sucking harder, making his hips buck against your face and pressing down on his hips to keep him down.
He loves when you use your vampire strength on him. Your powerful and strong werewolf becoming a weak creature under your superior vampire force. Such a sweet creature, begging and whimpering while you keep sucking even after he comes, his knot expanding on your mouth while you try not to bite down. The possibility of tasting his come and his blood right from his knot makes insane amounts of saliva drip around the knot in your mouth.
He’s looking down at you with utter adoration. You know he must be oversensitive, but he’s powerless to fight you while you keep licking and teasing around his knot, unable to talk, but wanting to make him scream either way. There’s tears running down his cheeks, wetting his fur and making his eyes the perfect shade of glassy. He looks delicious.
And you can’t take it anymore. You bite down on it, savoring his blood mixed with his come and marveling at the sinful and obscene sounds he’s emitting. It’s only a couple of sips, but it’s enough to destroy the last straw of control in your husband. He’s making sounds you’ve never heard before, and with the combination of his blood and sounds, you precipitate over the edge, painting the side of the sofa with your come while your husband’s eyes roll back into his head and his body goes completely lax against the cushions.
It takes a while for his knot to go down, but your husband is fast asleep against the sofa while you clean him up carefully and kiss his forehead before holding him bridal style and walking towards your bed.
In which Toji uses his superhuman strength to get his hands on you
“I won’t ask again, doll. Unlock the door and let me in.”
“No!”
He pounds on the bathroom door. The whole house shakes, so does your skeleton. “Not in the mood for games, woman. You got my dick hard; you’re going to take responsibility, like a big girl.”
What were you thinking spamming him nudes whilst he’s at work? No, the better question is, what was he thinking taking you seriously enough to speed home? Can’t a girl have fun without consequences?
“I was gonna,” you start, practically shaking in the tub as you hold a shampoo bottle, a foolish delusion of protection, “but then you came home early! You weren’t supposed to come home so soon. Ugh, you ruined everything. You know I need at least an hour prep to be in my most seductive mood, Toji!”
You can almost visualise the disbelieving scoff that’d reveal his sharp teeth and make that delectable scar stretch when he bangs on the door again. He’s probably leaning against it, imagining all the ways he could have you bent and pumped full of cum. The thought makes your thighs squeeze tightly even as a nervous, almost manic laugh escapes you.
The rattling of the walls stops. Silence rings out.
“...You laughing at me?”
Oh fuck.
You’re done for. That much is clear when he punches a hole in the door barely a second later with a thunderous bang. Huddling on all fours, you brace yourself with a scream as the wood splinters onto the floor. Your poor pussy’s going to feel just like that door when he’s done with you, you’re sure.
You peek up. Toji’s hands grip the wood, ripping a bigger hole in the weak thing. His glinting eyes meet yours. He growls, “Oh, good. You’re already in the right position.”
Screaming bloody murder, you throw the bottle at him, and another and another. They all bounce off his chest as though they weigh nothing. “Fuck off! I take it back. I take it all back!”
“Too fucking late. Shouldn’t play games you’re not ready to lose,” he lectures. In no time at all, he steps through and casts a shadow over your body. The veins on his beefy arms pop, his thighs flex, and his lips curl up — yet, all you’re looking at is the monstrous cock in his pants, painfully hard and somehow bigger than you remember, weighing him down.
“I hate you, you big brute!” you shriek, when he throws you over his shoulder.
He snorts. “Yeah, sure. Pretend you’re not creaming your fucking panties.”
Busted.
“I’m sorry?” you try, a last ditch effort to get your way. “I won’t do it again?”
He throws you on the bed and watches you bounce, licking his lips. “Try again when I’m feeling nice. Maybe I’ll buy your bullshit apologies then.”
Sniffling, you grumble, “And when’s that going to be?”
“Dunno.” Toji lifts one shoulder lazily as his hands grip your knees and shoves your legs apart. “Let’s get to orgasm number eight and go from there.”
I imagined that scene from The Shining lol but much less scary, and more ngh!
Synopsis. Your milkshakes aren’t bringing all the boys bulls to the yard? You’ve never been properly fúcked through your heats? Don’t worry, there’s a new bull hybrid on the farm - Toji Fushiguro. And he promises to milk you dry.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!cow hybrid!reader, bull hybrid!Toji, farm AU, hybrids AU, farmer!Shiu cameo, RÚTS, feraI Toji, he’s kept away, face-sítting, oraI (fem rec.), spítting, fíngering, manhandIing, overstím, he’s BIG, making it fit, p sIapping, p talking, mean Toji, tummy buIges, Toji with níppIe píercings, heat-inducing, first times (for you), vírginíty Ioss, ROUGH s, tail-pulling, running from it, dúmbifícation, BRÉEDING, matíng presses, Iactation, drinking it, creampíes, cúmpIay, implied marathon, slight exhíbitionísm, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 12.8k
A/N. ALRIGHT ALRIIIIIIIGHT- inspired by this tiktok by the gorgeous @/v4mpyrf4e (an absolute sweetheart, tysm for letting me write this) and to all the babygirls who summoned me there <33
“Another bull hybrid?” Shiu growls into his phone, listening to the conversation crackling from the other end of the line. “A Japanese Shorthorn at that?”
Those things were huge…
With a hand on his hip, he casts a thoughtful look out into the horizon. The beaming, bustling, sun-baked farm; amongst the tufts of grass, Shiu’s hybrids grazed, occasionally flicking their ears in the direction of the conversation. All but one of them.
In the shade of the overlarge crimson barn, he could spot you dozing away in the shade—one of his proudest purebred cows.
“No- no, I hear you.” He listens to farmer Kusakabe’s begging, “It’s not a space issue, it’s just…” Shiu hesitates, throwing yet another glance your way. Still dazed. Still exhausted. “It’s just that one of my cow hybrids- yes, her- fine, my favorite, just finished her heat. And I was worried that introducing a new bull would…”
A few more pleas.
Until, ultimately, the farmer sighs.
“Fine…send this Toji over then.”
“Oh, thank fuck! You have no idea how much I appreciate it, man.” Kusakabe bellows in celebration, and Shiu’s forced to lean his head away from the speaker if ever he valued his ear drums.
Atsuya Kusakabe was a farmer specializing in hybrids just like Shiu was, though his friend had taken it a step further and raised only bulls on his farm. Though he really did reconsider this friendship when the other was trying to pawn off one of his biggest bulls on him for a few days.
In his bemused wonderment at his friend, Shiu almost doesn’t register the soft nudge of something against his open palm. Something warm, something silky. He snaps his head down- and a sudden smile spreads across his face as he realizes just who it was.
You’d wandered off from your cosy lil’ corner, and cuddled up to him leisurely.
“Hey there, girlie.” Shiu whispers, reaching his fingers up to scratch behind your ecstatic ears. You weren’t quite the social hybrid, even amongst your own kind. Always frolicking by yourself when let out to graze, always straying behind the group after milking.
Shiu couldn’t even tease enough out of you (not even half a bucket!) when compared to the rest of the cows here. But the thing is, you seemed perfectly content with your few close attachments on the farm, your few friends, your rejection of many bulls (and trust that the attempts to woo were many). And whether that was because you’d grown too attached to him, whether that was just the way you were - he didn’t exactly mind.
He knew he shouldn’t have favorites, and yet…here you were.
“Feeling all better?” He’s asking, and you’re nodding languidly. Still tired, then. This season’s heat had been as powerful as ever - out of all his hybrids, it was safe to say that you had one of the strongest.
The neediest.
The sultriest.
Which wouldn’t even have been notable if you’d just let another bull hybrid mount you through them to ease the urges, perhaps even result in a cute lil’ calf for his farm- but that was exactly the problem.
You didn’t.
Shiu couldn’t even count on two hands how many times he’d tried to pair you off with one of his bulls - and each time had ended in a disaster. Either you’d barricaded yourself in another part of your barn room, or you’d claw your way outside altogether. Each and every time, Shiu would check on you in the middle of your heats to find that you were in the throes of your desires, fiddling with nothing but the toys he’d gifted you, and his sullen bulls would be pouting n’ pushed off to one side. Useless, really.
No matter how needy you were, you just wouldn’t take to them. And it wasn’t that they were particularly weak, or unattractive - there was Ino who you’d just ended up chatting through your heat with, Kashimo and Ijichi who you’d both kicked out, Takaba who you didn’t even look at, Naoya who you…
Yeah, he didn’t want to think about the beaten-up state you’d left Naoya in. It made him laugh.
He wondered who the problem was - those bulls that couldn’t woo you properly, or you who couldn’t be wooed.
He blamed the bulls.
And he’s patting the top of your head tenderly, carefully avoiding the slight protrusions of your horns that were oh-so-sensitive. Mutterly absent-mindedly, “It’s alright, it’s alright. Trust that we’ll find you a proper mate next year, girlie.”
You can only nod unsurely, gesturing at his phone. “Someone’s talking, Shiu.”
“Huh? Oh someone’s-” Oh, right, he was in the middle of his call still. He’d almost forgotten. Shiu tunes into the latest of Kusakabe’s spiel, and it didn’t seem like he’d missed out on anything too important—
“-had no idea what I was going to do for the few days I’d be in Tokyo for the Hybrid Farms Convention, I’ll pick him up right on my way back from there.”
“Mhm, sounds good.” He rattles off.
“You can keep him anywhere you like, to be honest. He doesn’t have any specific requirements, he’s just as sturdy as he is massive- hah! Though, I do give Toji a separate room of his own from the others…just in case.”
“Mhmmm.”
“My apprentices will be taking care of it while he’s gone, all ready for that big boy to be back.”
“Mhmmm.” Shiu lightly furrows his brows—if he has apprentices, and he has other bulls he’s leaving behind, then why did he need to leave Toji in particular with Shiu again? Oh, whatever…
“And you remember what I said earlier, right?”
Well, he wasn’t really listening but…“Mhm-”
“You have to keep an eye on Toji while he’s in rut.”
“Mh-” Shiu’s eyes bug out of his scalp, his knees grow a little weak, and he damn near drops his phone- oh, too late. He’s already dropped his phone down into the green grass below, startling you in the process. “While he’s in what?”
.
.
.
Name: Toji Fushiguro
Age: 30’s (approx.)
Hybrid type: Bos taurus
Height: 6’2+
Weight class: 1600kg - 1800kg.
Other notes: Subject has a sleek black coat, high intelligence, and a somewhat temperamental demeanour. He will insult you if it comes to infringing upon his freedom. Does not care for medical exams. Continuous horn growth that shows evidence of strong fighting capabilities, fatal power, and weapon-like appendages. It should be noted that the subject is of a larger size even amongst Bos taurus (in particular, the Nambu shorthorn bulls) and needs larger spaces of leisure than most. Take care to handle, needs multiple handlers.
Shiu’s face only grows pale as he reads down the medical sheet, quickly flicking his eyes to the very end so that he might be able to spare himself some of the torture.
-particularly powerful ruts with the urge to breed. According to the handler, it is noted that the subject has not spent a rut in the presence of a mate.
Even paler.
To emphasize, he is unmated.
And paler.
And currently nearing his rut.
For the second time in the past 24 hours (which isn’t many times, but it’s strange that it’s happened twice) Shiu’s fingers drop whatever he was holding in shock. Diligently, you’re right beside the farmer to pick up the piece of paper and hand it to him - giggling when he drops it for a third time.
Though, it was by sheer miracle that he doesn’t just faint right then and there.
Oh—he catches a glimpse of Kusakabe’s large white cattle trailer backing up into his hybrid pen and can feel himself teetering already. Thankfully, you were right there to nudge your head against his frame in support, slightly worried for the human man.
Because not only was Toji said to be nearing his merciless rut, but according to the medical sheet that his friend (‘friend’ hah!) had handed to him, he was unmated?
Makes sense, Kusakabe’s farm specialized in bulls.
But perhaps if Toji had a mate then the cow hybrids of this farm would be safe- he casts a sidelong look your way. Perhaps you - with your still-sweetened pheromones, and your even sweeter demeanour - would be safe.
“N-nothing-” The farmer places a hand on your head and pats, faintly. “Nothing at all, don’t you worry about a thing, girlie.”
Ah, well…Shiu thinks to himself, watching as the truck finally finishes reversing, and Kusakabe (that bastard!) slides out of the driver’s seat to open up the towering steel door in the back. It looked so massive compared to the admittedly above-average man, and that only made Shiu’s tension increase twofold at what may be lurking behind those metal gates.
Ones that seem to burst open with a roaring screeeech—
“Oh, shit.” His mouth was desert-dry, his grip unyielding on you who’d been angling your head to get a better look. “Oh, shit.”
Because Toji Fushiguro was massive.
Dominating.
So many thousands of kilograms of a hybrid that sauntered smugly out of the trailer, as if he owned it. As if he owned this entire farm and everyone in it.
The rest of the hybrids were drawn in by the commotion, turning their curious eyes towards the refined horns that gleamed as they entered the light. Towards the thundering ground. The powerful flank. The polished coat. The single golden ring ‘round his nostrils.
And you had to admit that you didn’t expect him to be so…handsome.
All ruggedly scarred lips from his tussles, and a face that seemed to be carved by the heavens above. You let your widened peripherals glide down the smooth skin of his front; all broad shoulders, prominent pecs, the cutest golden hoops pierced through his pink nipples, and abs for days. He shakes his shaggy black bangs out of his gaze.
Those smug verdant eyes that take one look your way - the way that Shiu had his possessive hold on you - and narrow.
Kusakabe startles as his prized bull hybrid suddenly stops in his tracks, his grip on his leash slightly faltering. And it seems that everyone within the pen holds their breath as a low huff of gruff displeasure leaves Toji, scorching hot fury reaching where you were.
Jaw clenching.
Eyes flashing.
He lowers his horned head as if he was about to-
“Ah ah-” Kusakabe’s the one to break through the charged tension on the farm with his command. He tugs on Toji’s firm leash, though, as a farmer, Shiu thinks he could see the slight waver in his movements.
Toji’s rumbling in refusal, tugging against the restraints. And Kusakabe’s nearly thrown off his feet- before he’s holding onto the side of the truck for balance, pulling the bull hybrid away from where his sights were set. “Easy, boy, easy.” He’s looking at you two with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, he’s just a bit excited with the ru-”
“Ahem ahem ahem-” Shiu suddenly coughs, cutting off the other man. “Better get him settled inside his enclosure, Kusakabe. Don’t want any more trouble now…”
“Ah- right, right.”
And with a slight swat at Toji’s flank, he’s fighting against the hybrid to guide him towards that lil’ enclosure made specifically for him. Shiu had taken care to section it off from the rest of the pen where the cows were, with hardy wooden tree trunks that composed the fences. And not one, but two padlocks that Kusakabe seems relieved to lock once he’s managed to get him inside.
Hands slightly shaking where Toji breathes hotly down his neck, black tail flicking in irritation.
“Calm down, calm down.” The farmer wasn’t sure whether he was telling it to Toji or himself- finally finishing off with the locks and looking up at him. “Now- you be a good boy, alright. Don’t give Shiu any trouble, don’t fight too hard with the other bulls- no use in telling you not to fight, I know you won’t listen to that anyway, and no matter what-”
Toji raises an unimpressed brow as Kusakabe raises a directing finger.
“-no going overboard with your rut.”
“And what exactly does ‘overboard’ mean?” Shiu wearily nears the special pen, arms carefully lifted off of you and wrapped around his own body in comfort.
Kusakabe beams, “No idea! We’ve never had him near cows before!”
Shiu felt like hitting him.
“Well, she just got off her heat-” At the way that Toji’s nostrils flare, his grin widens, Shiu almost regrets saying that with a gesture towards you. Oh? He blocks the bull’s greedy line of sight towards you, and grumbles. “-so no funny business.”
Toji scoffs.
“Use your words, Toji.” Kusakabe pleads, “No need to be like that.”
And he takes a second to pause. To consider. To seemingly mull over his words before- “Eat my ass-”
“Toji-”
“That’s it-” Shiu spits, not waiting for either man nor hybrid to finish before he’s stomping off to where you were watching the commotion from (as was the rest of the farm, but it seems like this hulking intruder had eyes only for you).
And with his hand placed gently where your flower-patterned collar was, Shiu leads you away from the herd. Away from the pen. Away from Toji, towards the barn where your room was. “That’s it- for the time that that bull is here, he won’t be seeing a single glimpse of you, that’s for sure.”
“But why?” You whine, your head tugging backwards. And Shiu could almost balk at the way that you - you - were half-heartedly resisting his grip, trying to look back at Toji. “Why can’t I-”
“Because.”
And that was that, you were isolated inside the barn, and Toji was padlocked away in his pen. Far, far away from you for the time that he’d be staying there.
And as Kusakabe waves his exit from his farm, promising to be back in a few days, Shiu makes sure to get a good punch in (all in good friendship, of course). Because Shiu Kong was calm. Shiu Kong was composed. Shiu Kong could survive just a few days with an in-rut bull hybrid infiltrating his farm.
“And how long until you’re back again?”
“Three- ouch, three days. You have a good right hook, man.”
After all, it was exactly that - just a few days.
What’s the worst that could happen?
.
.
.
The first day.
Toji could see you.
Through the slightest crack in those barn doors, just the tips of your ears peaking out as you glimpse at him. It turns out that just Shiu’s command couldn’t hold you, and you staggered your way up to the barn doors whenever that damned farmer of yours wasn’t around to see. Watching. Waiting.
Taking in the sight of him.
And it wasn’t that Toji wasn’t used to stares - he was a prized bull hybrid, larger than most. So it was quite the given that he’d gather stares from competition, from unmated cows, hell, even from farmers who would like their chance at raising human-hybrid offspring. And so it wasn’t exactly new…
But just this way you were looking at him…it made him shiver.
Those pretty doe-eyes held up a curious, somewhat fearful, admiration. A slight arousal dampening between your legs that his honed senses could smell from even here—
Toji swears something in him had snapped the very split-second that he’d arrived here.
That he’d first locked eyes with you.
That he’d first sniffed at the remaining sweetness of your heat. Your sex.
Every sense in him right now (even the rational ones) were screaming at him to break out of this enclosure and waltz right up to you, break through those barn doors if he had to. He wanted to smell your pheromones. To hold you. To stuff his hot, throbbing cock between your legs and watch as you struggle to take it all.
He wanted to breed you.
And - multiple times - Toji found himself barging against the locked doors of his pen. Whispering your sweet, sweet name underneath his breath (learned from some of the other hybrids that watched him), ramming his horns against the wooden walls.
He was in rut.
Badly.
Badly, badly, badly.
The sheer intensity of it was more than anything else he’d ever felt- fuck, not even his first rut had felt this strong. It wasn’t that he was unmated. It wasn’t that he was in an unfamiliar place. It was just you, you, you.
Taking the wind out of his lungs. Making his length ache heavily between his strong legs. Wafting his intoxicating scent - something spicily sweet, with a peculiar tang in it that made you drunk on it like liquor, like mulled wine - all the way to where you were watching from the barn doors.
You’re sagging heavily against its wooden frame to take it in, sighing at the murky pheromones that seemed to cloud the entire farm-
“Oi, girlie!”
And through it all, that damned Shiu had made sure to cockblock him.
Even now, here came his annoying, grating tone. He’d kept a close eye on Toji ever since Kusakabe had left in his truck, rarely straying too far from the hybrid pen. He was always butting in, always breaking the stare-down between you two.
With one hand on his hip, the farmer watches as you startle at his voice. Suddenly hurrying to stumble back inside the barn where you came from.
And it would’ve almost been cute had it not been a result of you breaking one of his direct rules: do not interact with the bull in rut. But the thing is, you’d never seen a bull like him—and he was in rut? Oh…
Shiu barks out, “Where’d you think you were going, huh? Yeah- that’s right, inside.” And with you gone, Shiu would glare up at Toji. Toji wasn’t shy to glare right back.
“Problem?” He smiles.
“Yeah-” The farmer had crinkled his nose- and pointed at the way that Toji had been impatiently pushing against the enclosing walls, trying to break out, trying to get to you. He spits out distastefully, “-that. Don’t think you’re getting anywhere near her, got it?”
“Not at all.”
That night, Shiu had sent for a few more locks to be delivered from the hardware store downtown (he wasn’t even sure that they did delivery, but he’d coax them into if it meant not taking his eyes off of you). Multiple. He’d fixed them onto the gates of Toji’s pen, “This should keep you out.” Shiu had declared, jangling the metallic additions with one hand. “Not even the finest bulls in the world would be able to break through these. Hah! Take that.”
“Fuck off.”
He’d charged at the other man, but alas, the gates stayed steadfast.
.
.
.
The second day.
Toji had murmured your name like a mantra all night.
All night.
Again and again and again-
“He really doesn’t seem so bad, Shiu.” You’d tried to whine to the farmer, when he’d come back into the barn after fixing a few more locks - the count was reaching upwards of ten by now - on the gates of the bull’s enclosure.
But Shiu had only waved off your pleading noises, “Now, don’t give me that look. I heard the way he was ramming against those gates last night, I heard his bellows.” Needless to say, you had, too…“And I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be out when such a bull is in rut, girlie. Not unless you wanted to be mated- hah!”
Well…
You pushed your quivering thighs together. You’d hate to admit that in the privacy of your room last night, listening to Toji grow so desperate, listening to him say your name like that…you’d actually reached for your heat toys about once or twice.
You’d never felt this way about a bull before- hell, you’d never felt this way about anyone before.
And it was such a strange sensation to be glidin’ up the buzzin’ tip of your vibrator to your clit, massaging that sweet lil’ nub without the carnal pangs of your heat. Just the carnal pangs of…pure need-
“Besides.” Shiu’s cutting through your lecherous memory, and you hope the evidence of your lewd acts don’t show on your face. He gently pats at your head, the way he’s done so many times before. “You don’t need to be mounted by such a big, bad bull. My poor girl.”
“I don’t?” You mutter to yourself.
And Shiu doesn’t seem to catch on, “After all, it’s not like you’re in heat.”
No…you suppose not.
But you can’t help but raise your face into the saturated atmosphere, seemingly so balmy and languid ever since Toji stepped foot onto the farm. And there, you can smell the most addictive scent- fuck, something that just made your core twitch with need.
“Feeling alright, my girl?” Shiu looks on at the way you shiver, and whatever he sees there makes him lead you back to your place within the barn. “Hm, maybe you should get some rest- it’s probably that bull’s pheromones messing you up.”
“M-messing me up?” You’re asking, your entire body feeling set alight. Though, you didn’t feel the slightest bit messed up.
“Mhm- since you’re unmated, just coming off an unsuccessful heat. But it’s alright-” Shiu reassures, starting to shut your door, and there’s a meaningful look in his eyes. “We can try again next year, I have a few other bulls in mind that you might like to mate with. And he won’t be getting anywhere near you until then.”
“He won’t…”
Shiu continues, “Besides, Kusakabe will be picking him up tomorrow, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
You don’t say anything, but you know that you aren’t worried. Not even the slightest bit.
In fact…your body wished he’d be here even longer.
But ah- if he was just going to be taken away tomorrow, then what was the use in wanting? As your wooden door slams shut, you’re realizing that you just might never see him again.
And, outside, Toji only rams against the pen fence even harder.
He wanted you.
He wanted you.
He wanted you.
.
.
.
The third (and final) day.
Or is it…
“What?” Shiu barks into his phone receiver, so loud that it startles every hybrid grazing in the vicinity. All of them were out, leaving the barnhouse all barren by this point - though Shiu didn’t doubt that his voice reached even you inside. And the sheer incredulousness in his tone makes even Toji look over, with a smirk that told the farmer that he was quite enjoying witnessing his distress. But Shiu paid no mind to that.
He couldn’t.
Right now, he was much more frazzled by the words that had the utter fuckin’ audacity to sheepishly leave Kusakabe’s mouth on the other end of the line. Almost in a trance, Shiu pinches the bridge of his nose and repeats. “So…you’re telling me…” Each word tremored with the sheer effort that it took to keep the rage out of them, “That you want me…to come…”
“All the way to Tokyo to help me fix up my engine and save me from being stranded? Yes.” Kusakabe’s voice finishes off, “Shiu, my oldest friend, my dearest pal, have I ever told you how much I love y-”
“Atsuya Kusakabe I will kill you.”
Toji snorts out in laughter, and Shiu is suddenly reminded that he’d been in the middle of fixing up just one more lock to the bull’s pen when he’d gotten the call. Gate held ajar for now. Padlocks unlocked as he fixed them on.
Glaring at the hybrid for the interruption, Shiu’s pinching the pen closed as he grumbles. “And you need me - you can’t just go to one of the many, many, many mechanics in Tokyo - because why exactly?”
“Aww, don’t be like that, Shiu!” Kusakabe cries out, “Do you have any idea how expensive Tokyo is? I just bought a cute lil’ pastry before the convention, and it bankrupted me for generations!”
“And you don’t have any other friends that are closer?”
“Man, if I had any other friends, period, do you think I’d be calling you?”
Shiu supposed that was a fair enough statement. “But- but I can’t leave…” He clicks his tongue, “Just get a train then! Leave that pile of junk at some trash site where it belongs-”
“I mean, I could…” And though Kusakabe’s tone was one of curious innocence, he’d long since learned that nothing ever boded well for him when he used it. He waits with bated breath until the other man continues- “-but that just means I’ll have to leave my truck - including my cattle trailer, which I use to transport my cattle - here. And you know what else that means I’ll have to leave?”
Shiu shivers, “Wh-what?”
“Toj-”
“I’ll be there right now.”
Kusakabe cackles, “Take your tiiime~!” And soon enough, the sharp tone of the call being ended reaches Shiu’s ears.
With one last semi-glare thrown in Toji’s direction, the farmer is speed-walking to his own truck - all those tools Kusakabe needed still inside from his last fix-up. More like running. More like sprinting to save his friend.
Not because he wanted to save his friend, of course. But because every second that Kusakabe was stuck in Tokyo, was a second even longer that you were stuck with Toji on this farm.
All alone.
And he couldn’t have rushed out of here more determined.
More hasty.
More careless-
“Well, would ya look at that.” Toji’s scarred lips twitch upwards into a grin. And he’s reaching one of his beefy arms out to lightly - just lightly - nudge at the wooden gate of his enclosure. Watching as it swings wiiiiiiide open—creeeeak! Bearing the rest of the farm to him with welcome arms. “What a sweet little gift f’me.”
All those pesky padlocks and ties, carefully added over the last few days, were useless if some silly lil’ farmer ever forgot to lock them.
Toji takes such delight in taking that first step out of his enclosure, broad pecs heaving as he takes in the candied trail of scent left all over by a certain pretty cow hybrid. You.
He then takes a second step, a third, a fourth—
And he knows exactly where he’s heading to - the barn.
Where you were just settling in for the day, your feverish body settling atop a particularly soft, tangled mass of golden hay. Cuddling in. You’d heard Shiu’s truck take off, though it would be out-of-character for him to leave so suddenly. You weren’t sure what to think, and you were just about to nod off when…
Creak-creak-creeeeeak—!
The barn door opens.
Shiu? Fluttering open your eyes, you’re just about to raise your head and ask him what all the yelling and commotion was, when-
Oh.
Oh.
That wasn’t the farmer at all.
Toji’s large, sculptured figure takes up nearly the entire door frame. And even from here you can see his sultry grin, his agitated hips. You can smell his intense drunken pheromones—“Room for two, sweetcheeks?”
.
.
.
“I’m- hah, sensitive there…” You’re pouting as Toji relentlessly tugs you by your stubby horns towards him. His overlarge hand plastered to the back of your scalp and guided you down between his meaty thighs - not only had he kissed you silly by this point, but the hybrid had you drenched and quivering all over the hay for more.
But first…
Your watery eyes bulge as you take in the sheer length between Toji’s legs - inches upon inches, throb after throb, all looooong and rock-hard with need. His erection stood right up to graze his navel with glittery drops of precum.
Decorated with so many puffy veins down his shaft that your cunt twitched just imagining how he’d feel inside of you.
Each one pulsated as Toji drip-drip-dripped in gooey sap down his cock, all ready to pierce your hot sex. Heavy balls tightening with even more, with the urge to breed. And you’d do well to remember that bull hybrids in particular were known for having absolutely massive cocks-
“What’cha thinking about, sweet girl?” Toji hums, the point of that nickname proven when he takes a deep, heaving gasp of the pheromone-saturated air.
Before you can answer, one of his hands slither down to grip that heavy cock of his. Right ‘round the fat hilt where he can move his long length to smack! down between your half-parted lips. Using just the globular tip of his cock, he’s smearin’ apart your maw and just glossing over it with his creamy pre. “You’re not thinking of tapping out already, huh? You’re not…scared are you?”
There’s a slight mocking hint in his tone, nevertheless you’re shaking your head fervently.
He snickers, “That’s right. You don’t care what that stupid farmer of yours has to say, hm?” And oh—Toji has to stop himself from simply stuffing every inch inside your mouth already, instead wetting your lips enough so that he can sliiiiide in. “You’re not really such a good lil’ hybrid like he says- huh?”
“No-” You’re hiccuping out, “Not at- mmpf.”
Only for big, bad Toji to rut his cock against your mouth. Shutting you up with his flared tip, you can taste the pure arousal seeping into your mouth.
All warm n’ wet on top of your tastebuds—you’re drooling around his thick tip before you even know it.
“No, because you’re a baaaaad girl, aren’t ya?” He’s tutting, swiping away the splatters of saliva that just kept on leaking from the edges of your mouth- and instead, he’s reeling back to replace it with a jetstream of his own spittle. Straight onto the middle of your tastebuds.
With a second hand tugging open your mouth, Toji takes a nice look at that gluey wad sitting on your tongue- before he’s plunging his rude cock right back in between your lips. “Because you’re- haaaaah, careful, careful, no teeth- because you’re my good girl, aren’t ya?” Staring at you with half-lidded green eyes, “Allllll mine.”
“Mmmpf—” You’re muffling out around his raw girth, Toji was just so big that your maw was constantly open in this lecherous ‘oh’ shape.
Gobbling his veiny inches up even deeper and deeper, you’re only growing wetter at the way that his bawling divot scrapes down the roof of your mouth. Swervin’ left and right, and reaching for that cute lil’ dangly thing at the back of your throat-
“Ever taken a bull’s cock before?”
Choking at the lodgement in your throat, “N-no—”
“Yeah? Thought so. Ever taken anyone before?”
Shaking your head.
“Well then, she’s taking me so- hah, well.” Toji’s crooning out from above you, fucking his hips in sloppy half-thrusts inside your mouth. That rough line of his happy trail ends up scratching the tip of your nose, and you find that his intoxicating scent only grows stronger the closer you get…“Haven’t you had breakfast today, sweetcheeks?”
With tearful eyes, you’re looking up at him in confusion. “Mmm—ngh.”
“Ah ah- flick your tongue at my tip if you wanna say ‘no’—oh, just like that.” And then his mean, scarred lips end up formulating a mocking pout. “Such a cute tongue, can’t believe she’s gone hungry for so long- ngh.”
“I-” Tears stream down both your cheeks, and you’re panting out through each thrust of his achin’ cock. “Fuck, Toji, you’re just so big-”
Other hand pushing on the back of your clammy head, deeper n’ deeper. His superhuman strength was just incredible- “And look, she’s just become so greedy.” As if he wasn’t the one tunneling every spot inside your mouth, spotting it with his pre. “Don’t you know you don’t have to take any more, sweet girl, don’t you- oh—” Toji accurately hits the back of your throat, a direct thud! of his globular cockhead. He grins, watching you salivate around his cock- “-oh, fine, if you insist…”
“You’re- hck!” And the fact of the matter was that he hadn’t even fully bottomed-out yet. Criss-crossing your eyes, you spot that you had even more inches to go- “You’re so ngh-”
“And you want me to bruise the back of your- oh, throat, you say?” Toji’s cutting you off with his mean grunts, smack after smack of his heavy balls.
They graze the front of your chin and make you feel such carnal pangs, your cunt grinding back against your heels. “I didn’t even- oh.” But too late - his geysering divot was already bruising away back there.
Push after push.
Probe after probe.
Until Toji’s shaft had stirred up every single hidden spot inside of you, and he was swelling up even more like he wanted more, more, more—
“Toji-” Your nails claw down the pale expanse of Toji’s thighs, just so plush rippling underneath your touch. “Toji I want-”
“Ohoooo?” His raven brows raise in amusement, a mean grin spreading across his face. “The good girl is making demands now, hm?” As you whimper away, he’s thrashin’ at the back of your throat- again and again. “I guess I can’t just keep listening to her, huh?”
Her? Who…oh.
He was talking about your thoroughly damp pussy, with the sappiest noises leaving you each time you’re pushing back on your heels. Soaked with desire.
And Toji seems amused by your shocked reaction, “How cute…go on then, sweetcheeks. Go on. Lemme know what that cute lil’ heart of yours desires.”
You’re pulling back from his red, glistenin’ tip with a lecherous pwah! “I-I want…” You’re sobbing, lashes fluttering in a way that makes- oh, you won’t be mad if he told you he was getting even harder now, would you? “-I want to feel you, Toji.”
To feel him?
To feel him?
His hazy peripherals snap down to see the way you were eyeing his long, long length. And then he’s realizing - oh, you wanted to feel him inside, did you?
Inside…fuck.
Your eyes damn near bulge out of your skull at the way that Toji’s rock-hard length only seemed to grow even…bigger at your words. Flaring up until he was red-hot at the tip, all slicked with a glaze of saliva and pre.
Toji smacks his painfully hard shaft down once more at your maw, “What dirty, dirty words- and from such a good girl?” He scoffs.
And just as you’re about to explain yourself, you’re suddenly feeling near whiplash at the way that Toji grabs onto your throat and flips the two of you around. Hoisting. Manhandling. Ending up with his back against the floor, head against the hay, and your naked cunt drivelling right above him.
So wet and pretty.
Toji’s mouth waters at the sight of your damp, glistening hole. And he can’t help but immediately reach one hand over to thumb apart your puffy pussylips, pressin’ apart your folds and spitting straight into your hole.
“Or were they words from her, hm?” Toji’s gruffly snickering, flopping that wide tongue of his out to catch your droplets of slick. “Talking out of that pussy, hah- you’re even dirtier than I thought, sweetcheeks.”
Your thighs ache as they hover, slightly chasing the warmth of his mouth. “M’n-not dirty! I just wanted to feel you…” Casting a longing look behind at his throbbing length-
“As if. And you can have my cock-” You look up hopefully at his answer, how cute—you couldn’t even properly fit his cock inside your mouth, and now you think you could fit him inside your cunt? “-but first I’ve gotta stretch this dirty girl ouuuuut.”
“But, I can take- hngh!”
As if. Before you know it, Toji’s slithering his long, looooong tastebuds inside your cunt with absolutely no warning, no hesitation.
Just the ridged texture of his muscle slithering inside, and you’re quivering at the sheer size of him. And he feels the tightness of your circular innards and grins- “Woah…” Just a single taste of you, and his pheromones are blasting out in pure need. “Don’t you know that you hafta stretch ‘er out first, hm? What- never done this before?”
Gingerly, you shake your head ‘no’.
“Oh- reeeeeally.” Just pryin’ aside your folds, you were so fucking wet that that honeyed slick splashes down onto his face like a puddle. Toji rolls his eyes, “I would’ve never thought.”
You huff n’ puff atop him, “Don’t- don’t tease, Toji-”
“Why, m’not teasing..” He’s spitting on your cunt yet again, letting the dewy excess trickle back down into his throat. “I already know that this pretty pussy hasn’t been satisfied like she deserves. I can fucking taste it-” Tunneling back in again. “Can hear it.” The most lecherous slurps echoing in your ears as he does, the bull’s ears flick your way to listen to it. “She wants only me- heh, wants me to be her first, doesn’t she?”
Slurp-slurp-sluuuuurping as he’s rovering his tongue, somehow contracting it and extracting it in a way that massages your velvety walls.
Again and again.
“All you hafta do is sit there- all pretty, and take it.” Toji croons, and something dark glints within that gaze of his as he catches your lost expression. “What? That dear farmer of yours never taught you how to take it like a good girl when yer being eaten out.”
“N-no-”
“Then let me teach you—” Oh, you knew he didn’t bode well by the way that he said it. You knew it.
And in a split-second, Toji has one hand plastered at your hip, and the other veering upwards to smack! down on your swollen pussy. “Ah ah-” As you buck, that hold he has on you grows numbing, and you’re sure he’s leaving nail marks there for weeks. “Toji’s first rule- don’t run.”
“I won’t—” You’re swallowing your words back just as soon as you say them, because just then- two of his rovering fingertips intrude their way inside your cunt.
Not even waiting for you to get used to him, not even faltering as you squeeeeeeze.
He’s straightly stuffing two of them inside your snug channel, the bulbous ends of Toji’s digits digging into each of your hidden spots without even trying. Turning them over. Pushing into every nook n’ cranny n’ crevice over and over- “Oh my god-” Bellowing out, your body starts to move back and forth against him - as if it didn’t know whether you wanted to bounce down or run away- “Toji, I’ve never felt something like this- ngh.”
Only for a loud smack! to ring out against your wet pussylips once again, and for Toji to haul you back onto his mouth with his beefy arm. “What’d I say about rule number- hah, one, hm? Silly girl.”
He was stopping you from running from it.
He was looping one of his thick, beefy biceps ‘round your waist, stopping you from moving away from his open-mouthed kisses. “Good.” Pulling you in so close that his golden nose ring presses frigidly against your clit and makes you flinch. “Atta girl- atta, sweet girl.” Toji smirks against your cunt, once you try squirming your hips and find that you can’t move even a single inch. “Now squeeeeeze those pretty legs around, I don’t care if I fucking suffocate, use me, sweetness- that’s the second rule.”
“Like- like this?” You ask, your whiny pitch trembling just as much as your legs were by now. Feebly, they attempt to straddle Toji’s head properly.
To which it almost looks as if the bull hybrid was about to laugh—“No.”
Numerous more spanks of his fingertips on your cunt, and soon enough you’re finding yourself completely limb atop him. As he fingers you to tears, rotund fingertips scouring all the way to your cute cervix-
“I mean-” From your hips, his hand is then moving to your thighs. Wrapping around them to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze- until Toji felt light-headed. “-like this.”
“I think m’d-doing it.” You’re gyrating atop him wildly by now, finding a staccato in time with his thudding! fingers. Not only were they thick, they were just so long too - and they left you feeling dizzy with his vulgar strokes, with his incredible scent.
“Third rule, fuck back into me.” He commands, with that specific tone of a bull in rut that made you want to listen to him immediately. Your hamstrings screamed in protest as you continue, “Fuck her back into me- harder now, aren’t you a cow hybrid? Buck.”
You could barely even believe your ears, “You’re just so fucking mean- fuck!”
“Yeah, yeah, just like that.”
And Toji’s tongue? Oh, he wasn’t just staying still - not at all.
Toji had his tongue wrapped ‘round your throbbing clit and spanking down with his tastebuds. “And the fourth and final rule-” He gurgles through the wettened wads you were seeping out, “-is to get ready.”
You’re blinking your teary eyes back open, looking down at him in shock. “Get ready for what?”
It takes a few more probin’ thrusts before he can bear to pull away- and that, too, with the loudest smooch! The bull hybrid’s pants come out in heaving gusts, scalding air making you quiver at the sensation.
“Get ready…” Toji rattles off, after a few sultry seconds. And oh- you wonder, why was his tone octaves higher? Why did he sound so breathy? Why was there something…crazed in the way he said it- “-because you think a bull hybrid in rut would really be this nice, sweetcheeks?”
Jaw dropping, “Oh-”
“You don’t know how painful it was to hold myself back-”
And before you know it, your spine’s arching as you struggle to accommodate him- struggling to handle the raw primal pressure of his thick tongue and two- three of his fingers plunging into your hole. Pushing and pushing and pushing—
You’ve become masterful at rule number three, it seems, as you’re pressing your thighs upon either side of Toji’s face until he groans.
All of his appendages just reaching all the way for the very back of your cunt—“Ohhh, please-” Your head throws backwards as you feel him fuck you with his tongue like he was trying to ruin your inexperienced pussy. “P-please-”
“Oh m’ having a pleasant time alright.” Toji snickers, his heated pants leaving your skin perspired. The mountains of his knuckles were striking your outer pussy so hard now that they were starting to grow red on his skin. “S’fuh-fucking sweet.” Stinging.
Plap! after plap! You’re moaning as his mouth unhinges undeniably deeper to let even more of his tongue’s inches inside. Stretchin’ out your cute orifice, “Gonna hafta stretch her at least twice- haaah- twice as fuck! much if you wanna fit my cock, sweet girl.”
“Twice as much…” You’re repeating breathlessly, you couldn’t even begin to imagine it. It already felt like Toji was pulling you to your very limits - so even more…
“Rule number five- just made it up, heh.” Toji spits out - literally, a glittering glob of spittle that sticks to your slit. It slides down to your hold and makes it easy for him to thrash his tongue inside like an animal- like he was frenzied by his pheromones, like he couldn’t control himself from push-push-pushing.
Not even at a controlled cadence- Toji couldn’t stop himself from squishing your sweetest spots at the very back of your cunt. In almost no time, he’s finding that cute lil’ heart-shaped g-spot of yours - and Toji’s fingertips and tongue were fighting over which one gets to press on it the most.
Again and again until you’re in actual tears- “Rule number five is- ngh, you have to take it.” Holding you to him, until your cunt folds were plastered against his puffy lips. “Take it all like my good girl if you wanna finally take my cock.”
“Please-” Being pummelled away to the maximum, it’s all you can say like a constant mantra. “Please please- ngh! Please-”
“That’s all that dirty mouth can say now?” Toji tuts, “Tch- what happened to wanting me inside? Wanting my cock? Wanting to be fucked like the slut you secretly are?”
Primal swabs, again and again.
Twofold.
After each word, Toji’s tongue sizzles against your tender pussy - lips glued so deeply against your folds, that you can feel him lappin’ away every ounce of your slickness.
It drips slightly down his chin, and leaves your cunt slipping on top of Toji’s handsome face. You grab onto his large horns with a yelp- “Oh! Fuck, Toji- did I really say that?”
“Of course you did- hah, gallop, sweethearts.” With yet another spank, he rovers his face even deeper between your trembly legs. Nose-deep. Skin-deep. So deep, in fact, that the veins on Toji’s sculptured neck pop out.
You’re unsteadily bucking against him on instinct, and that leaves the man groaning. “Just like that.” Swallowing up every inch of your outer cunt, you’re being pierced by the relentless ministrations of his tongue again and again—“You asked to be fucked like a slut- hngh, and that’s exactly what m’giving you. Aren’t I just the beeest mating partner, sweetcheeks?”
“But I didn’t-” You’re babbling out, drunk on the vicious scrape-scrape-scrape of his intrusions. His fingers pushed just as your g-spot, and you could feel him glissading down even deeper. Deeper. Deeper. “-I didn’t say that—”
“Oh, didn’t you?” He’s hazily looking up from between your legs - there was something bleary in his eyes, something gone. “I think I remember-”
“Well I don’t-” As you’re raising your voice, you can’t believe it- Toji’s powerful tail wraps around your thighs and drags you back down.
He rumbles, “Rule number one…” In warning.
And it’s only with a few more thuds! that Toji’s pretending to remember just what you’re whinin’ away about, his dark brows shooting up to his bangs. And you can feel your treacly cunt quiver with the vibrations of his laughter, “But ah- I remember now.” His eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, eating you out until his nose ring slicks with your syrup. Just the notion is enough to leave his pheromones heightening, “I believe you said…‘you wanted to feel me’.”
Mouth dropping in recognition, “Oh- I did.”
“And what did you mean by that, hm?” Toji speaks through the ringing slurps, zap after zap of pleasure. “You’re already feeling me here-” Pokin’ at your g-spot, “And here-” His tongue snakes out to suck on your clit once more.
“I just meant I wanted to feel you- hck!”
His sweaty brows furrow, “But yer already feeling me-”
“No- more like I wanted to feel your-” You’ve never spoken words like this before, not even in the throes of your worst heats. You glance back at his twitching erection, “-there.”
“My where?”
“Your- your cock, Toji!” You’re wailing out, your legs feeling numb at the way he strikes your sweetest bundle of nerves. “I wanna feel your thick, looooong cock- please.”
Oh, you really were such a dirty girl. He’s gnawing down on that nub of your clit, “And where do you wanna feel my thick- looooong- cock, hm?”
You’re stammering, mouth growing less in-your-control the longer he’s making a mess of your poor pussy. “Inside-”
“Inside where?”
“Inside my cunt-” And you’re shocked you manage that out without stumbling over your words, gryatin’ back into his open maw with sly figure eights. But even that wasn’t enough—
Toji rolls his eyes, such a mess. Such a shattered mess. Just pushing and tasting and lavishing his tongue all over- “Say it again-” When you’re repeating your sultry words, “More- dirtier. Be good f’me, girl, say it again-”
“I want your cock inside my cunt, Toji.” You’re whimpering out, you’re shaking. Feeling the inexperience bubble within each of your veins, because the hybrid was just having so much fun corrupting you. “I want it inside- want you to fuck me with that cock so badly-”
“Atta girl.”
Forcing you to say those lecherous words, forcing you to cum—
“Oh my god-” With your back arched, you’re throwing your body into the wave of pleasure that suddenly bursts inside your body. “C-cumming- I’m cumming, Toji-”
“And it’s all because of me.” He’s smugly saying, perfectly puncturing at your g-spot with his constant pushes.
Because of Toji’s rut, his senses were so honed that he could mark each peak of your high- the explosion of bliss that he pinpointed with his fingers, with the slashes of his tongue. “Heh- me.” With a wet chuckle, Toji’s tongue was going to lick up every inch of your pussy like he was frenzied. Couldn’t get enough. Lap after lap. “Me me me me-” He sucks on your clit, letting his canines nibble lightly on them, and it lets out the most lewd sluuuuurp. “-and look- she’s thanking me.”
“Fuck! Never felt something so good-” Whining out, you’re bouncing your back into each of his hits. “-might be the best orgasm I’ve ever had- hck!”
“S’a pleasure, sweet girl.”
By the time the best of your high bates, Toji still hasn’t let up between those syrupy legs of yours. When he’s licked up every droplet of sap you’re letting out, he’s moving over to lick at the sheen of slick glued to your thighs.
Again and again.
Until you’re all the way overstimulated, and tears start to drip as if from a faucet. “I th-think m’done, Toji.” As if he already didn’t know - you’re pushing at his clammy head. “My orgasm’s over, I wanna try taking your cock now-”
“And you’re sure?”
He wasn’t asking to be nice. He was asking to make you turn your head and balk at the way his impossible size had only seemed to grow even bigger. Your lips wobbling, “Y-yes.”
“Oho?” Dark brows raising, he stops his ministrations and moves both hands to now grip at your waist. “Well, you did tell me to put my ‘thick, looooong cock inside of your cunt’-”
“So shut up and do it.” Huffing in embarrassment, you pound at his muscular chest - and he could barely even feel it, like kitten kisses on his bulky body. It’s enough for Toji’s cock to jolt with need, and for his attractive face to break out into a grin.
“Atta girl.”
And with that final compliment, Toji’s making to grab onto your waist and lift you off of his face—with the loudest smooch! It’s ringing out like the prettiest melody in both your eardrums, and Toji just barely manages to disconnect himself with your sweet pussy.
Just barely breaks his lips from your tender folds, all slickly glossed.
Just barely wrenches you off with ease, and takes one nice look at your hole - when you’re realizing that Toji Fushiguro suddenly stops. His nostrils suddenly flare. He suddenly stutters-
“O-oh, sweet girl. I don’t think you even realize-” Toji gawks up at your cunt. And you’re feeling somewhat shy when he filthily leans his features in and takes a good, long sniff at your cunt. As you’re looking up at him in confusion, “-you’re in heat.”
“In heat?” He sets you down near his rugged v-line, and you’re animalistically grinding your cunt down on his thickened length. You look up at him for answers, “What do you mean? Shiu said I’ve already finished my heat-”
“Fuck what Shiu says, silly girl.” Lightly spanking your pussy, Toji rolls his sage eyes. His pupils were all blown-out and bleary with lust, only darkening the more he takes in your buttery pheromones.
Oh, you smelled like the sweetest freshly-whipped cream - and that only made his mouth water as much as his swollen cock was. Drenching the cute innards of your thighs n’ your pussy mound with his sap, he grins. “I can smell it.” He parts his scarred lips, a thin line of saliva trickling down one side. “I can fucking- taste it-”
“Oh—” You’re gyratin’ back against his plummy cock tip, oh-so-lewdly. And you take another sniff of yourself, reaching up to feel that your scent glands have swollen up. “I g-guess you’re right-”
“Sugar, I am right.”
Before you know it, the world’s a blur around you- and suddenly you find your back against the soft hay. Your head being cushioned by one of Toji’s rugged palms, Toji’s large body hovering over you. Pressing you down-
“And this pretty pussy’s tellin’ me that this is yer first heat with a bull, hm?” Sliding his thumb between your glossy crevice, he listens for the squelches. “Awww, how cute—so m’your first, sweet girl?”
“Yes- yes.” And when he places his fleshy cock between your legs, at that sweet spot where you wanted him the most, you can’t help but realize that oh- he’d been stretching you out for so long for a good reason.
Because Toji’s hybrid cock looked absolutely ginormous between your legs, especially with the way he’d thickened up in size while eating you out. His cockhead was as red as a huge strawberry, and multiple times bigger. Bull hybrids, famed for the shaft length - now slipping n’ sliding between your pussylips.
Just kissing at your geysering orifice- “Oh- fuck.”
“And you know having you on top would be the easiest for her…” That said, he’s swatting his rough fingertips down on the nub of your clit. He’s spitting. He growls, and it’s enough to send shivers down your spine- “But m’still gonna have her in a mating press.” Throwing your legs over his shoulders, folding you damn in half. “Because you also forget one- fuck-” Just feeling you clench around nothing, enough to make him reach up and grab at a wooden beam. “-thing, sweetness.”
“And what’s that, Toji?”
“I’m in-” Hard enough that the wooden beam breaks—“-rut.”
Fourth rule, remember?
Because you didn’t think that he’d go this easy on you when he’s in fuckin’ rut, did you? You didn’t think that he was going to fuck you nicely, did you? You didn’t think that he wasn’t going to act like a damn animal, did you?
In a sudden motion, Toji’s plugging your hole up with his thick cockhead- and shoving it deep into your deepest insides. Long. Hard.
You’re yelping, nails finding purchase on his deltoids and clawing on for dear life because- “A virgin, are ya?” He tuts, “Don’t think m’gonna go easy on ya.”
“Oh my goodness-” Thighs curling around his toned waist, hips attempting to buck away. “Holy fuck-”
“Easy, easy.” It was just so cute the way you were struggling - especially when you were talking so big about wanting him. “Breathe in, girl- there ya go.” You’re following as he instructs, “Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in—” And suddenly there’s a sodden spank at your pussy, “-you, too, pretty pussy.”
Something that catches you off-guard, and makes you swallow him up an inch deeper. Your eyes rolling all the way to the back of your skull, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- I’ve never felt like this. You’re so big- hold on, Toji, you’re so-”
“Hold on?”
“What-”
“Hold on?”
He’s then spitting out into your open mouth, and slapping your pussy so hard that you’re seeing stars. Instantly, you’re set on edge by the way that his rugged cock suddenly slams- “You’re telling me to h-hold on?”
And was that a stutter in his sentence?
A laugh?
Toji Fushiguro sounded like he was fucking losing it by merely hearing your whining questions- “You seriously want me to…” Clawing down in front of your body, one of his rude hands press down on your stomach as he’s sinking iiiiiiin. It makes you feel every ridge n’ vein, every inch, every bit of his thick shaft intruding in. “-hold on?”
“It’s just- I just didn’t think you’d be so big-” He was barely even halfway in and you could already feel Toji at your throat, gushing out sticky wads of slick. With your feet planted on the hay-littered ground, you’re trying to arch your back nearly away from—
“Oi- who said you could tap out?” Before you know it, Toji’s hand lifts from your thigh to grab onto your tail - one pulling you in by the tail, his right hand still feeling for that tummy bulge he was fucking into you.
You can’t get away by the way he’s manhandling you back down into his hips, skidding straight across the barnyard floor. “Tch- ya need ta be herded or what, silly girl?” Grazing his dark happy trail against your front, the curly tufts of it scratch your clit. “Come back t’me- rule number one, remember?”
“Fuck-” Throwing your head back in tears, your legs were limp from the sheer pressure being put on your lower half. “-I can feel you reaching in so deep-”
“And you wanted me to hold on?”
He was never going to let that go - he was never going to give you even the slightest second to get used to his incredible length.
Palm pressing down on the cylindrical outline makin’ itself known on your tummy - just that big. Pelvis moving in a rapid, urgent half-thrusts-
Toji isn’t even waiting for your cunt to take it all, his red cockhead probin’ just inwards. Inwards and inwards and inwards. He can feel the tight resistance of your pussy, your sweet body unable to take him whole right now- and it only makes him groan.
With his head thrown back, he’s letting go of your tail to smear apart your pussylips. “M’in fucking rut and you wanted me to hold on-” He’s hissing, pushing your snug folds so far apart that you have no choice but to take his hammers. “Been teasing me with that s-sweet scent ever since I fucking got here and you want me to hold on-” Pulling you to him. Dragging you to him.
Toji breaks every single second that he’s not fully sheathed inside of you, and he’s just pummeling his hips deeper- “Hold on, hold on, hold on.” After each mention of his mantra, he’s rutting in. “You want me to h-hold on and-” Harder. “-and you know what-” Deeper. “-I want to do, sweet girl?”
“What-” You’re gasping out through your tears, sticking to both of your cheeks by now. “What do you want, Toji?”
“I want to- fuck! Well, first I want to fucking fit-” He’s whispering underneath his breath, darkened eyes narrowed as he takes it in. “Fit- fit- fit-” Before you know it, he’s spitting down once more on your cunt and shoving his cockhead inside. “-fucking fit-”
Blinking away the tears in your eyes, “And- hah, and what else did you want?” By the heightening of his pheromones, you already knew that it was something about to ruin you.
“I want…” He was teasing you now, just lightly grazin’ that blushing hot tip against the roof of your cunt. You could feel him filling up every sneaky orifice, and Toji was fucking you like he’d just gone feral- “I want to-”
“Oh, fuck!”
With a final, lewd thrust- Toji Fushiguro bottoms out.
“-breed ya, sugar.”
And he meant it. The massive bull hybrid was drilling into you like a madman- his cattle nose ring clanging with each rut. “I’ve been wanting to breed you since the moment I stepped foot here.” Toji growls, the red crown of his shaft directly heading towards your cervix now. Bruising. “I want to fuck- fuck you through every day of your heat- my rut.” And he was emptying out such long strings of precum into your womb, “Try to get you pregnant every single day of my rut.”
“You’re going to get me…” Your pupils are swirlin’ in comical circles within the whites of your eyes, and just the mere notion makes your tastebuds sizzle with saliva. You hadn’t spent your heat properly with a bull- let alone found yourself mated by one.
Bred by one.
“Fucking pregnant.” Toji finishes off with a snicker, pushing against that cute lil’ tummy bulge that he was pounding into you.
“Oh, please-” You’re throwing your head back with a mewl, “But I’ve never been m-mated to anyone before. Are we sure it’s going to take, Toji-”
“I’ll make it take.”
His jackhammers were so hard by this point, enough so that your sap splatters out of you in puddles. It glistens right down the inner parts of your thighs, and Toji swipes his thumb down from your pussy to glaze it in the syrup. To reach up to his scarred maw and suck on it.
And when he feels your spit-slicked lips start to wobble out more concerns, he’s pushing that very thumb between your own lips.
“Shut it, silly girl. Ya really think that when I hah- when I fuck you like this—in this mating press.” As if on cue, his manhandling strength seems to be folding you even deeper in half. “With this pretty pussy-” Dragging out a few more slurps with his thrusts, “-and my rut- you’re not gonna be walking outta this barn stupidly pregnant?”
“I-I don’t-”
“Silly, silly girl.” It’s a rude thwack! of his curvaceous ball sack after each slam, and you can feel your body grow more restless after each of his spat-out words. So mean. “Silly lil’ hybrid thinks she’s gonna make it outta here- hah, without bearing my calves.”
You’re shivering, your body so limply fucked by this point- that Toji’s tail has to wrap around one of your thighs. Holding you up. Interlocking your ankles around his neck with that silky tail- “Well, since m’inexperienced-”
“And m’gonna give you the experience of yer life- heh, I already am.”
He was - he really was. Just making you see stars every time Toji’s overlarge, plump cockhead dug into your g-spot. Somehow he’d managed to map the insides of your walls, and each thrust grazed his length against your sweet bundle of nerves.
Probing and probing a bruise exactly the size of his round circumference- “M’gonna corrupt you, sweet lil’ thing.” A sleazy smile spreads across Toji’s handsome, perspired face. “M’gonna fill you up with so much of my cum that- hah, they’re gonna be milkin’ it out of you for months afterwards, sweet girl.”
“Fuck, I’d like that-”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’d like that s-shoooo much, Toji.”
“Bet you’d like it even more after I fill you up with my calves, hm?” He titters, pheromones slowly growing saturated enough to mingle with your own. “After I fuck this pretty pussy pregnant ‘nough times that she remembers how it feels when I fill you up? After I breed you until we can- hah, fill this whole damn farm with them? After I make a momma out of you and no other bull can ever even think of touching you-”
You squeal, “Yes- yes yes yes yes-”
His tail tightens around your ankles, horns charging as if he was only growing more n’ more excited. Throbbing with more need. “And you better fuckin’ know that these are promises, sweetness. That no fucking farmer can ever break.” Toji stares you deep in your heart-shaped eyes as he says, “I will get you pregnant.”
“Oh, I’d fucking hope so.” You glide your hands down your front, “I wanna feel you right h-here, Toji.” Down where your womb was.
Fuck…you were dangerous for a bull in heat.
And his entire body feels feverish with need, the burning sensation of his rut overtaking Toji completely.
As his hips only grow sloppier, you’re grazing your sweaty palms further down his body. Starting from his shoulders, before ultimately you end up squeezing Toji’s massive milky pecs.
Even for a bull, they were just so plush. And you can’t help but twiddle your thumbs ‘round the golden rings that he had pierced through his pinkish nipples, lecherously.
He shivers at the sensitive sensation, “O-oh? Look at you.” Snapping his head down, you swear you could see a rouge flush take over his cheekbones. “You’re corrupted already.” And both of Toji’s own hands end up removing from your stomach and your pussy, ending up- oh, you could’ve already guessed.
Both of Toji’s hands end up on your tits.
Squeezing.
Kneading.
Before you can say a word, he’s already growling out- “And as any momma would- we’re gonna hafta make sure you’re making enough milk, huh, sweetcheeks?” That last bit of his sentence ends up drowned between the valley of your chest.
Toji’s gaping his maw wide open and sucking on your right tit, his left hand pinching the nipples of your left tit.
“I don’t think anything’s gonna come out just yet-” Your tail swishes in arousal as you watch him hollow out his attractive cheeks, thoroughly sucking on your tit like his favorite lolly. Sucking like he was trying to make milk come out—“I never did produce…much…milk…”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re being proved wrong. Because with a gushing sensation, you can feel your hardened nipples stream out something straight into Toji’s open mouth. “You were saying?”
Pure white milk.
And he was such a messy eater, your ivory syrup dripping down his lips. It glosses them and created the sweetest lacquer that Toji himself was addicted to- “Mmm, so much, sweet thing—fuck.” He’s pinching at your left tit, too, a splashin’ puddle of milk that he immediately plops his mouth over to gulp up. “Ya really are a sweet thing-”
“I’ve never made this much even for the farmer-” You’re gasping, and your milk cascades down Toji’s chin like a waterfall. Constant. Sloppy “How did you even…”
“Because you’re in heat.” He says- choppy, through the way that he barely wanted to speak, barely wanted to remove himself from the sweet fountains of your spurting milk. “Because m’in rut.” Toji’s hips smack into yours so hard that you see white for a second, and his happy trail perfectly carnally itches at your clit. “And tonight- we’re gonna make a fucking baby, sweet mama.”
“O-oh—” With your voice cracking, you’re reaching your high. It comes instantaneously, and you arch into Toji’s glissading muscles as you ride through it.
As you’re fucked through it.
“Cumming again?” Toji’s marvelling, his words thick - he had his mouth full, after all. Smelling the saccharine sweetness of your orgasm in your pheromones, he’s marking each peak of your high with a bang! of his reddened cockhead.
Slowly opening up your womb even more, your g-spot felt so red-hot and raw from the inside as he just kept on thumpin’ away there. Again and again and again. “Of course, ya are- fuck. Just like thaaaat, fuck back into me- third rule. They say the momma needs to cum good if we wanna get you pregnant after all-”
“And what about you?” Still in the throes of your bliss, you feel absolutely no inhibitions in babbling away. Drunk on the thick, veiny size of him fucking you through your high—“Aren’t you gonna?”
“Gonna what?”
“Fuck…”
“Rule number six-” Toji pipes up, a mean glint in his eyes. “-is to use those words like the big girl you are.”
And you best believe that he was fucking you like he was trying to push the very words up to your throat, his veins massaging your sweet spots and making you shiver, his pearly white teeth back to sucking on your milk. “I want- hah!” You wince when his right hand slithers down to pinch your clit, “-you to cum- fuck.” You moan when his left keeps toyin’ with your nipples, streaming out dairy for Toji to swallow up. “-inside my cunt, Toji.”
And there—his eyes slightly widen in interest, “You really said it.” A proud smile gracing his face, “You really, really…oh.”
With a few more lewd thrusts, he’s emptying out his heavy balls.
They tighten as they spurt out the creamiest wads of cum waaaaaay back into your spongy womb, suckin’ up each pearly droplet as Toji fucks them inside you. Splashing out. Pooling out. That bawling divot in the middle of his shaft just leaves a murky mess behind, ribbons of ivory that glue your walls together.
“Oh fuck-” He’s clenching his canines, you swear he’s holding back tears—“And you’re gonna take it-” Toji snarls, fighting against the urge to throw his head back - simply because he wanted to look at you as he stuffed you till you were overspilling. “-take every single last drop-”
The hulking bull hybrid shakes as you clench your velvety walls. “Oh, yes.” You’re shivering once he smacks! your clit once more, swirlin’ those sultry webs of seed with his fingertips.
Toji’s pushing them inwards, again and again. “And yer gonna keep it, aren’t you?” Fucking you, again and again.
He hums, gluing the edges of his fingers inside your channel, so that not a single gumdrop can leak out of you. “Second rule, sweetness, squeeze those pretty legs. S’gonna tell that pussy to keep my cum inside- give me a lil’ calf, heh.”
“Shit- keep talking and I’ll…”
It’s too late for you. You’re so far gone on his pummeling length that with a few more strokes, you’re reaching your high once more.
White-hot.
Toes curling.
Back arching.
You can’t even control yourself, it’s the most powerfully sinful sensation you’ve felt in your entire life. And this time, not only are you overspilling in Toji’s glutinous white cum - you’re also spraying out your own slick. Translucent splashes of sweetness, so powerful that your entire body shakes.
Your high was being dragged out of you.
Squirting. You can’t believe you squirted during your first heat with a mate, your first heat mounted.
And as he instinctively bucks his hips through it, your new mate swears- “Fuck- fuck, don’t tell me you’re- oh. You are. Turns out I milked you dry, hm?” Something in him oh-so-triggered by the way you just kept on drippin’ from that pretty cunt, it’s as if the hybrid part of him knew that he had to do something to stop you from losing so much of it. “Rule number four, my sweet mate.”
But no bracing in the world could prepare you for what you felt in that very moment - because suddenly you’re feeling a strength so incredible that it’s as if you’re being split apart. “Your- your knot?”
“Damn right.”
You just had to see this for yourself. Chin hitting your chest as you watch Toji push n’ push the incredibly swollen base of his cock inside you. It was so round n’ red, about four times his actual circumference.
It sinks in with a lecherous sluuuuuurp—and Toji empties out a few more streaks of cum just from the sheer sensation of having his sensitive hilt sheathed inside of you. Isn’t that every bull’s dream? To have a mate as pretty as you, choking and overstimulated around his knot? Ready to take all of him until you’re pregnant-
“We’re mates now.” You’re still shivering from the shockwaves of your multiple highs, so overstimulated that you don’t hear his murmurs. Sobbing, you’re tugging cutely at his nipple piercings to garner his attention. “Wh-what was that, Toji?”
“I said–” Roughly, he pulls off from your lactating tits. Your milk drivels down either side of his greedy maw, “-that you know a bull’s rut lasts days, right, sweetcheeks?”
“Oh.”
“Guess we have a lot to learn…h-heh.”
.
.
.
Shiu was halfway through his drive to Tokyo.
Halfway through his window cracked down halfway, his dark hair playing in the breeze, head nodding in time with the beat of some early 2010’s pop hit that’d surprisingly managed to calm him down during his drive.
Sure, Kusakabe had completely ruined his plans and forced him to leave you unattended on the farm - but Shiu can’t help but almost feel grateful towards his friend.
After all, it’s not every day that he gets to go out like this - the life of a farmer sure was a busy one. And it was such a nice day out, driving along smooth and silent in his truck like this was almost therapeutic. He’s almost considering getting an apprentice or two so that he’d be able to do this more often. He really thinks he could find inner peace like this, maybe all those self-help magazines he grimaced at in convenience stores were onto something. A man needs time for himself, too, y’know?
Yeah, time for himself. Time to just wind back, enjoy the highway, just appreciate the beauty of the world, y’know?
Halfway through a drive of peace and quiet, when he suddenly realizes-
And Shiu’s stepping so hard on the brakes that he wouldn’t have been surprised if about five other cars smashed into him from behind right about now. And he wouldn’t have noticed, either—”I left the gate of the bull in rut fucking unlocked-”
Immediately after he remembered, Shiu had gone and done a (likely illegal, most definitely illegal) U-turn right then and there. Heading right back where he came from, he’d cut off multiple cars, almost run over some unsuspecting old lady in his haste to get back to his farm - Kusakabe be damned, his best friend could rot in Tokyo until the end of time for all he cared. After all, he was the one that caused all this!
Shiu made it back home in less than half the time it took him to halfway down his journey to Tokyo (he’s sure he ran a few red lights).
And he’s fumbling with the keys of his gates, forgetting his truck and sprinting right up to where his cattle hybrids were. All cooped up inside the pen, they hadn’t gone into the barn still - and yet, with one sweeping glance, Shiu can’t really find any missing.
So he almost dares to breathe a sigh of relief- before his eyes catch the placement where Kusakabe’s bull had resided. Where Toji resided.
And Shiu’s heart drops at the same time as his jaw.
It was empty.
Quickly, he’s suspecting just why the cows and bulls outside weren’t going inside the barn, and Shiu takes another look at his herd—fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck - there was one missing.
And he knew exactly who it was.
In urgent, jerky motions, Shiu’s throwing open the gate to the pen (this time double-checking to lock it behind him) and heading straight towards the barn.
The barn where he can hear the rustling of hay, where he can smell the saturated sweetness of hybrid pheromones, where he can see—oh, you on your hands and knees, with your pretty ass raised high in the air for Toji’s cock to plough into, his powerful body. You’re all sprawled out on the hay, saliva and milk splashing out of you at a constant pace. You mewled as he stretched out your cunt so mercilessly, again and again and again. The plump knot ‘round his base hitting your pussylips with almost painful thwacks!
And by the ribbons of miry cum that clung onto both your lower halves, Shiu was safe to assume that this certainly wasn’t the first round…
Shiu’s nostrils flare, and he’s realizing that this wasn’t just the heady scent of Toji’s rut - it was your heat, too. That luscious creamy smell that made his mouth water, and his cock twitch in his pants as he took in the sight-
BZZZZZZZZ—!
Thank god his phone was on silent mode- Shiu hastens to pick it up before either of you can hear. Though, he doesn’t think he’s very successful with it.
Because just as Shiu places the crackling phone against his ear, whispering out a quiet- “H-hello?” He sees that Toji’s smug, handsome head turns in the direction of the barn door. And he’s smirking straight at the other man as he claims every inch inside of you, Toji’s honed tip pinpointing into every tiny nook and cranny.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s leaning down to grab onto your leaky tits- and squeeeeeze out a pure white stream of your milk. Much more than Shiu’s ever been able to tease out of you during milking sessions.
He was making his mate known.
Slowly, Shiu backs out of the barn without you noticing (though, you were so deep in the waves of your carnal pleasure, that he thinks it would’ve been impossible to get your attention anyways).
Only once he’s out of the headiness of the barn does Shiu finally manage to register the other man’s voice-
“Hello? Helloooooo? Man, where are you now-”
“Hey, Kusakabe.” Shiu speaks, still slightly dazed. Still slightly staring through the barn doors from afar - all because of a fucking gate. “Take the next train here from Tokyo- no, don’t worry about your truck, you can pick it up later. No, you don’t need the cattle trailer anymore.”
Kusakabe sputters, “Huh? But why?” At the other man’s silence, one could almost hear the moment that understanding sets in. “Oh man- oh wait, don’t tell me that Toji and that sweet cow hybrid of yours has-”
“Yeah.” Shiu grits, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Unrelated, but would you happen to know any good names for calves?”
A/N. YOU ASK AND DADDY PROVIDES (not child support tho-) YES I SAW Y’ALL IN THE COMMENTS-
pervyroomate!toji, who snoops through your dresser whenever you leave for your classes. he sometimes spends his afternoons digging through your panty drawer, running his rough fingers over the soft fabric of your garments. he imagines what you, his pretty, pure roomie, would look like sprawled beneath him dressed in nothing but whatever adorable pair of underwear he was enthralled with. just the thought of the delicate fabric in his hands hugging your most private area was enough to get him hard. and if you noticed you were missing a pair of panties? that was toji’s secret to keep.
pervyroomate!toji, who smothers his hard, leaking dick with the gentle cloth of your panties he stole borrowed and jerks off with it. he normally prides himself on his high amount of stamina but only a few minutes is all it takes to coat the lacy fabric of your panties white. if he’s not masturbating with your panties around his dick, he’s smelling them; inhaling the feminine aroma that clings to the cloth and makes his head feel dizzy with need, desire, and hunger.
pervyroomate!toji, who presses his ears to the wall connecting his room with yours, cock in hand as he tries to catch each and every sound you make while touching yourself at night. every now and then, at night when you think toji’s asleep, you finger yourself while making these quiet, subtle noises that make toji want to barge into your room and give you the real thing. he can tell you’re trying to be quiet, stifling your moans and cries but the shlick of your fingers pumping in and out your pussy is unmistakable and loud.
pervyroomate!toji, who can’t help but snap a pic or two of your underwear whenever you wear a skirt. he slips behind you in the kitchen and sneaks his camera a little underneath your skirt, getting a clear image of the lacy fabric hugging your supple curves. and like the nasty perv he is, he has an entire album dedicated to your upskirting photos.
pervyroomate!toji, who gets achingly hard whenever he stalks your socials. he scrolls through the numerous posts of you showing off outfits that accentuate your body and thirst traps that make toji’s nose bleed from how good you look in each one. as he looks through your account, he wraps a trembling hand around his throbbing dick, stroking it to the videos you innocently posted. toji unapologetically cums all over his screen each time, streaks of his load land on the 2d image of your face.
pervyroomate!toji, who “accidentally” gropes your ass whenever he passes by you. it amuses him how you haven’t; a. called him out on his wandering hands or b. began avoiding him when he walks by you. it doesn’t matter if you’re simply moving past him to grab the remote, he’s copping a nice feel of your perky flesh.
pervyroomate!toji, who installs a small camera in one of the keychain plushies he gifted to you. you hang it up on your door, the innocent-looking bunny faces near the edge of your bed. he checks the camera almost every hour, watching your every move and his hand always eventually slides underneath his pants.
pervyroomate!toji, who purposefully walks around with no shirt on half the time, stroking his ego whenever he catches your eyes lingering on his toned abs and thick biceps that dwarf your head. he ignores you when you tell him to ‘cover them up, slut.’
pervyroomate!toji, flirts and makes dirty jokes around you all the time. he’ll smirk when you suck on a popsicle during summer or get whipped cream on your lips after eating dessert, raising a brow at you suggestively and laughing when you get the hint, your cheeks immediately flushing crimson red. he loved seeing you get all flustered from his corny innuendos.
pervyroomate!toji, who one day comes back from his part-time job earlier than he expected, much to his excitement since he couldn’t wait to go back to watching you through the hidden camera in your room. that was, until he walked in on you, his precious roomie who he had initially interpreted as shy and naive, curled up naked in his bed with your hand shoved between your thighs and his sweaty gym shirt bunched up underneath your nose.
Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, nepotism, business deals, Toji is in the Zenin clan in this AU, Angst, Timeline takes place in the 1800s Japan, Toji and reader are in their 20s, Toji is different from the rest of his clan, Shy reader, Nervous reader (I mean can you blame her? I'd be scared too if I was in her situation...)
TW: sexism from clans, misogynistic undertones
WC: 1.3k
A/N: This idea has been in the back of my mind for so long but now it's actually came to life and idk how I feel abt it... But if ppl actually like this and I get motivated to make a pt two I will (Lmk what you think!!)
૮₍ • ᴗ • ₎ა
Synopsis: You have been treated like cattle your whole life, just a prize for another man. So, when your clan starts to drown in debt from fraud, what is their best idea to be in the clear with the Zenin clan? Simple. They sell you off to the Zenin clan to marry Toji Zenin. Marriage was the word they chose to use, but we both know that you have no choice in the matter, you're just another woman to them, nothing but a prized cattle for them to sell.
Your parents sit you down, not a tinge of nervousness on their faces. The air feels heavy; the tension is thick between you and your parents. Your father finally breaks the silence, saying, “You’re getting married.” It's not a suggestion; there's no warning for when it's going to happen. Your father just declared it; they don't even bother taking your feelings into account. I mean, why would they? After all, they see you as nothing really.
Sadly, you could feel that this was going to happen. Talks have sparked around your clan on how your clan is in debt to the Zenin clan. Something about fraud and the wrong goods being delivered. You overheard from your old relatives that always gossiped in the garden; word quickly spread to the children in your clan. Since children obviously talk, word quickly spread, and then soon the whole clan knew of the matter. No one spoke of the matter, though. It was just something that hung in the air like smoke in a confined room.
Your parents stare at you with not a tinge of sympathy on their faces; their faces are cold, with absolutely zero emotion. Your mother doesn't bother to speak, knowing that if she tries to, your father would just tell her to shut up and know her place.
Your father starts again, saying, "The wedding will be in exactly one week; your dress is ready already. There will be no venue.” Typical. Just quick and easy, huh? What a coward. Your father starts again after pausing. “Are we all on the same page here?” He doesn't wait for an answer from either your mother or you. “Great, good talk," he says, walking away down the hallway as your mother treads behind him.
࿐ ࿔
A week passes in no time, today is your wedding day, and oh, how you've been dreading it. Not only because you’ve never met this man, but also because this whole situation is fucked up. Your parents have never cared about your well being, they only ever cared about keeping the family business alive, and now that it's tanking, instead of trying to mend the cracks like any normal person, they chose to marry you off to clear their debt to a man you’ve never met. You feel sick, it feels like you have no control over your life at this point. You never really did, anyways, you just always gaslit yourself into thinking you had a choice. For once in your boring, miserable life you wanted to be free from your disgusting clan, but now, not only are you being married off, but you're being married off to the most hostile clan known.
Your shiromuku kimono fits perfectly. In reality you have nothing to complain about; it's gorgeous. The fabric drapes over your body perfectly. The gold accents are breathtaking… but you can't help but feel this sickening feeling in your gut.
The venue isn't even a venue at all. It's just the Zenin clan's garden. To be fair, it is pretty, really pretty. But that doesn’t make you forget about the fact that in a few minutes, you’ll be married to a man you've never met. As you walk to the floral archway, your father wraps his arm around yours. He doesn't dare look at you. He looks like he just wants to get this over with as soon as possible.
You stand under the archway, white lilies staring down at you. The man you are marrying walks down the aisle towards you. He has black moppy hair and he is quite tall, probably over six foot. He doesn't speak to you, let alone look at you. He just stares at the priest. The priest tells you to take his hands in yours. The priest recites prayers and poems, you finally get a good look at the man while he does so. The man has a scar on the left side of his lip, and he has gorgeous emerald eyes that immediately draw you to him. Before you even know it, the priest has finished his prayers. He asks the man if he will take your hand in marriage. He immediately says yes. The priest then turns to you and asks, will you take his hand in marriage. You go silent. You can feel your father and mother's gaze, eyeing you like hawks. After a few moments you manage to get out a half-silent “yes”.
The priest announces you as husband and wife. Silence. Your father and mother continue to stare at you with that stare. The stare you saw your entire childhood, the stare that made you feel like a nobody, a disappointment.
The man takes your hand as you walk towards Zenin's residence. The man does not say a single word to you as he takes you down countless confusing turns until you reach a small hallway. It's dimly lit with only one window at the end of the hallway. You want to scream and shout, it’s just you too. And there's nothing you can do. He opens the door and leads you into what you assume are his quarters. It’s- It’s cleaner then you thought it would be. A large bay window covers the main wall, warm light dripping into the bedroom. On the right side of the room is his bed, a huge bed. Right in front of the bay window there is a grand piano open. The very far left of the room there is a door that connects to his chambers. You assume it's an ensuite.
“Take a seat”, he says. You sit on the seat for the grand piano. He gets on his knees and stares up at you, looking right into your eyes. “What is your name?”, he says. You tell him your name, he tests it a couple times on his tongue before you ask his name. “My name is Toji, Toji Zenin.”
“I want to make something clear," he says harshly. His tone makes you flinch slightly. “I understand we both don’t like this situation, so we don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. You are not obligated to serve me; do I make myself clear?”
That takes you aback. You thought a man like him who looks so scary would be harsh or aggressive, partly why you were so scared of marrying him. But he's… weirdly soft? Not like you’re complaining,... it was just unexpected.
“Sounds good”, you finally say. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
Toji hums in acknowledgment before grabbing your hand softly and leading you to his bed. “You can have the bed if you’d like, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” “Are you sure?" you say, surprised. “This is your home.”
“I don’t mind, really. We have extra futons in the spare closet.”
“Okay,... if you say so…”
Toji leaves to get a spare futon. He comes back and lays it down far away from the bed. Soon after that you realize you don't have a change of clothes. Toji senses your panicking, he walks across the hall and comes back, again. He hands you a soft, cotton nightgown. It’s cream with lace details around the sleeves.
“I’ll step out so you can change.” Before you can even ask him where he got a nightgown for you, Toji disappears out of the room and shuts the door. You look around, confused, before shrugging to yourself and changing into the nightgown. Toji knocks and asks if he can come in. You tell him he can come in, as soon as you do you realize he changed too.
Huh.
Toji goes to lie down on his futon. You stand around awkwardly before heading to his bed. The sheets smell like soft incense and a hint of cedar. His sheets are crisp and ironed, surprisingly clean.
You stare at the ceiling for a while, after about thirty minutes you hear the sound of Toji’s soft snoring. You sit up to look at him and realize he looks oddly peaceful sleeping. Lying back down, you stare out the window in bed. Watching the sun disappear down the horizon.
Huh, you think. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
Credits to @diviniyae and @222luvr for the dividers! <3
toji loved when you wore nightgowns to sleep. not the lacy lingerie kind. the long, flowy kind with obnoxious floral patterns. he wasn’t sure why he loved them so much. maybe it was the easy access or maybe because they left so much to imagination. only he knew what the boxy fabric hid. either way, they were one of his favorite things.
the early morning sun washed over your shared bedroom. the light caused toji to stir awake. his emerald eyes squinted until they adjusted to the brightness. he reached for his phone on the nightstand to check the time only to see that it was far too early for him to be awake on a saturday. he let out a miffed groan before resting his head back into his pillow. as much as he tried to, toji couldn’t fall back asleep. he came to terms with reality before looking down at you still peacefully asleep beside him. your body was pressed closely to his, nuzzling into his bare chest.
toji smiled softly to himself as the sunlight reflected off of your face as he wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders. you looked completely and utterly serene next to him. your body decorated in a floral pattern that would give any normal person a headache if they looked at it too long. he loved being able to admire you in your most unguarded state. that’s when it dawned on him. he loved your nightgowns so much because they signified the comfort and safety you feel around him. something about that filled him with so much pride and warmth.
eventually, your eyes fluttered open for the day, cuddling even closer to toji’s side. his arm squeezed you tighter in response. you gazed up at him with a warm smile.
“good morning, ji,” you breathe with a slight stretch. your movement caused your nightgown to ride up just below your ass. you reach for the hem to pull it down, but toji grabs your wrist before placing it back on his chest.
“you know i love when you wear these,” he says lowly. a slight rasp indicating he still isn’t fully awake. his large fingers now playing with the hem of the cloth, “you look so damn sexy.”
“yeah i’m sure,” you replied sarcastically, gesturing to your clothing. toji couldn’t help but chuckle at your cuteness. he grabbed your face gently by your cheeks, pulling it up to his. he stared intently at your plump lips before meeting your gaze. the heat between your bodies suddenly grew hotter. toji pressed a soft kiss against your lips.
“would i ever lie to you?” he smirked before planting a more passionate kiss on your lips. his hands dropped lower prodding at your plush thighs, hiking your nightgown up now exposing your bottom half. your hands snaked around the back of his neck. fingers tangling in his jet black strands. you dragged him deeper into the kiss as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip. toji’s calloused hands squeezed your ass, causing you to gasp. he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring it freely.
the pool of the heat between your legs longed for friction. you squeezed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief. of course, this action doesn’t go unnoticed by toji. he cocked his eyebrow, slinging your leg over his without breaking away from your lips. his meaty thigh now pressed firmly against your dripping, bare warmth. toji let out groan feeling the wetness against his skin.
“hmm, no panties,” toji mumbled, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, “cmon, pretty girl, grind into me.”
toji’s hand gripped your hips firmly, guiding them as you rolled against his chiseled thigh muscles. you yanked at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a growl from toji. your arousal spread across his skin. feeling how easily your wet folds slide up and down his thigh only fueled your need.
“mmm, feels so good,” you moaned, hiding your face in the crook of toji’s neck. a bubble of desire formed deep inside of you, threatening to burst at any moment. your movements became erratic as your body began to shiver from the overwhelming pleasure. toji’s grip on your hips tightened, fully controlling the pace now. he flexed his thigh, dragging your sopping pussy faster against his rugged skin. the friction was almost too much to bear.
“you’re doing so well for me, baby,” he panted, looking down at your shaking figure, “feel how hard am i?” toji’s clothed erection was trapped between your bodies, grinding into your lower stomach with every roll of your hips. his irritated tip dripped with pre, soaking through his boxers. watching you so close to coming undone left toji struggling to contain himself with the near constant resistance making it almost impossible to do so.
“close…’m so close,” you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes. you couldn’t focus on anything but reaching your high. your body quivered on the brink of ecstasy. your words were like music to his ears. toji continued rolling your hips onto his thigh at the same pace.
“go ahead, baby. wanna see how pretty you look cumming on me,” toji encouraged, bringing his lips to yours, drinking in every one of your moans as you let go of your bliss, slick gushing down his thigh. toji held your hips still as you came down from your high. toji carefully removed his leg from between your thighs, sitting up on his heels next to you.
“look at the mess you made,” he whistled with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. looking down at his glistening thigh and wet patch at the bottom of his boxers made your face heat up with embarrassment.
“don’t say that,” you whined, covering your face with your hands. you felt toji move over you as the weight shifted on the bed.
“i didn’t say i didn’t like it,” he said lowly, pulling your hands away from your face before gathering some of your slick on his index finger. the heat from your cheeks radiated down to your core as you watched toji suck his finger clean. a pleasured groan escaped his lips as he threw his head back, “you taste so fucking sweet, baby.”
toji collected some more of your juices on his fingers before bringing them to your mouth. you parted your lips without hesitation, allowing his fingers access. you looked at him with big, glassy eyes as suckled your taste off of his skin. that sight alone almost made toji bust in his boxers. he couldn’t take the build up any longer. he needed to be inside of you.
“such a good fuckin’ girl,” he said with lidded eyes. cock aching in the confines of his underwear. the wet spot spreading on his crotch indicating the amount of precum he’s already released, “need to be deep inside that good little pussy. spread your legs, baby.”
of course, you obliged without question, ready to take your boyfriend’s thick cock. toji quickly pulled his throbbing erection from his boxers. the weight of his member preventing it from standing fulling erect. he spread his precum around his red tip, dragging his tip along your slippery folds before lining up with your aching entrance. he slowly pushed in with a hiss. the stretch of your walls caused you to dig your nails into toji’s veiny forearms.
“relax, baby, i got you,” he grunted, rubbing your hips in an effort to coax your muscles to ease up. you nodded slightly, taking a deep breath. toji bent down to kiss you. the softness in his kiss allowed your body to relax, letting him push in further until he had filled you to the hilt. he stayed still for moment, so you could adjust to his length. he wanted to make sure you were fully ready to take him because once he started, he knew he would quickly lose control.
“ji, please move,” you begged, squirming beneath him chasing any sort of friction you could, “i need it.”
who was toji to deprive his sweet girlfriend of what she wanted. so, he pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming his hips into you. he didn’t waste any time with his thrusts, setting a fast pace. your walls clenched around him as his tip dragged along your sweet spot with every thrust. the sound of your moans and skin slapping mixed together in the air. toji gathered your bunched nightgown in his fist, using it to bring your body in to meet his hips. a creamy ring of white formed at the base of his dick with strings sticking to your thighs as he pumped in and out of you. you wrapped your arms around toji’s broad shoulders as you felt that familiar pit in your stomach. toji gazed down at your fucked out face. cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, mouth agape. he never got tired of seeing you like that.
“you’re fucking pretty like this,” he gritted through his teeth. he was rapidly approaching his high, but he needed to draw another orgasm out of you until he was willing to fill you up. the tight grip your walls had on his throbbing cock told him you were as close as he was. he slipped his free hand between your bodies. his thumb finding your sensitive clit, rubbing rough circles, “cum for me again, baby, please.”
with a shrill cry, you came on toji’s cock with him following suit shortly after. his white ropes coated your textured insides, pumping you full of his cum. toji rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. chests heaving in unison. he places a sweet smooch on your lips before peppering your entire face in kisses.
“so you believe me now? i fucking love these things on you,” he breathed, letting go of your nightgown before pulling out of you.
dividers by @strangergraphics ^-^
author’s note: this is like the third time i’ve tried to write smut in my life so apologize if it’s not the best :p but here’s to 3000 followers x
Synopsis: Toji, the TA, won't bump up your latest essay a couple marks, not with just some begging at least, so you try a different method:
good ol' pussy persuasion
Warnings: toji art by @/youKa.i on insta, smut, porn with a lil plot, nerd!toji, a couple years older than reader but both students, reader harasses him but don't save him he's right where he wants to be, some comedy aspect, college au, non curse au, f!reader, blowjob under the desk, unethical behaviour, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v, briefest choking, sex against the window, pússy inspection, belly bulging, overstimulation, spitting, a little fisting I guess or almost, Toji's poor so this is canon compliant jkjk, creampie and unprotected sex, brief pussyjob, size kink/difference, hidden sex, not proofread
Word Count: 10.7k
“For the last time,” he drawls, “I’m not bumping you up a grade.”
You groan, pushing your legs to catch up to him faster.
“Come on, I need this. I’m not asking you to break the rules. All I want is for you to reread my essay and find extra marks, which you will!”
Toji Fushiguro is a tough nut to crack, though he doesn’t look it — one glance at him and one would think he’s a laidback TA. He’s the exact opposite; he takes his job a little too seriously.
For days now, you’d been hounding him, pleading with him and degrading yourself all for him to ‘remark’ your last paper and ‘coincidentally’ find a few extra marks that would push you to the top performing spot you’d been eyeing since forever. Each time you rushed into his office, waited for him after his classes, and followed him to his apartment, he’d shrugged you off with the same ‘I don’t get paid enough for this’ look in his eyes.
Rounding the corner, his long legs making no accommodations for your shorter ones, he says, “No. If you wanted better results, you should have put in a better performance. Surely you’re smart enough to work out that that’s how life works.”
Hands grab his arm, yanking back with all your strength only to be dragged along with him and his burly body. Your heels scrape along the floor. People stare. You don’t care. “Don’t be an asshole. You know my essay was good. It was really good. Just give it a read. A proper one, and not the rushed job you do because you’re overworked and underpaid.”
He stops.
Your face bumps into this back, forehead nearly bruised by the hardness.
His brows rise above his glasses as he fixes you a look. “Kid, your essay was good — decent introduction, clear structure, sufficient evidence — but it’s not good enough for the extra marks to push you into the top band. Your closing argument fell flat ‘cause of your wishy-washy writing style, you didn’t adequately humour the counter arguments and undermine them to strengthen your thesis, and, worst of all, you misspelt ‘complement.’”
A frown graces your features.
“No, I didn’t. C. O. M. P. L. I. M—”
“No. With an I, it’s to flatter someone. With an E, it’s to enhance, pair well, or complete another thing.” Toji explains rather robotically, eyes still dead and voice monotone. “For example, if I said you’re a pretty girl, that’s a compliment. And if I said, your essay goes well with the trashcan over there, that’s a statement that suggests the two complement each other. See the difference?”
He’s already stalking off again, hands in his pockets, huge stature unwilling to accommodate the people walking down the hallway.
You break into a jog, panting embarrassingly by the time you reach him. “Dude, we’ve known each other for three years. We’ve gone through a lot together. We’re basically friends. Can’t you do your best pal a solid?”
Toji glances down at you. He pushes a door open, holding it a second longer than he needed to. You follow behind him. Somewhat amused, he replies, “We know each other because we’re on the same course, not by choice. And I don’t know what you mean by the whole ‘we’ve gone through a lot together’ thing — the most dramatic thing we’ve faced is when the projector didn’t work and we had to go into a different hall. And we’re definitely not friends.”
Well, fuck, you’re running out of rope.
“Then, let’s officially be friends,” you offer, elbowing him gently. “If you ever need help, buddy, I’ll always have your back.” Then, in an act of complete desperation, you begin shakily singing, “You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. When the road looks tough ahead—”
A heavy hand shoves you away by your head. You stumble into a bulletin board.
“Enough,” he gruffs. “My day’s already fucked because the prof lost his papers and wants to blame me. I don’t need to lose my hearing on top of that.”
Your head flits around. “Did you guys see that?” People give you weird looks. “He just shoved me. The TA just shoved me. We need to protest his violent behaviour by demanding he remarks our papers. Who’s with me?”
Everyone walks past without another look at you.
Toji, on the other hand, lifts his glasses and runs a hand down his face. Muttering something under his breath, he pushes a door open and holds out a hand before you can mindlessly follow. “It’s the men’s bathroom. Tell me you’re not shameless and stupid enough to come in here.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
His eye twitches.
As though an idea comes to him, he straightens ever so slightly. “I’m gonna take a dump; you’ll be waiting a while.”
“That’s okay — I have no more classes so take your time but make sure you don’t stay sitting down longer than you need to,” you tell him, smiling innocently and standing aside to let a guy walk out, ignoring the freaked out face he makes at you. “You can get hemorrhoids."
He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman.”
That seems to be as much of you he can tolerate because he walks in without another word to you. Opposite the door, you lean against the wall, whistling and coming up with alternative lines you can pull on him.
God, he’s so stubborn.
It’s not like giving you the marks docks his pay or lowers the professor’s opinion of him. He’s clearly just being an ass.
If he wasn’t such a good TA, a genuinely intelligent man, you would have gone above his head and asked for the prof’s personal assessment. But no, he has to be knowledgeable, a helpful source of information when you’re lost, someone who seems to know everything about any topic, who knows the exact pages of a textbook you should read to further your understanding, and who’s never declined a meeting for clarification on something you wrote.
For years now, you two have had a friendship-like relationship, often sharing snacks and exchanging brief words before or after lectures and classes, despite what he says.
Everyone gets along with him, though you’ve never actually seen him hang out with friends or go to parties. Maybe he doesn’t have any. Word on the street is he works part time in a couple different places. Some say so he can afford drugs, some for tuition.
The rumours never interested you, apart from any that mused about his love life, which seems to be nonexistent except for the many girls who hit on him. Not that you’re especially interested.
It’s just fun to be in the know.
Who knows how long has passed since he went in there. Your phone says fifteen minutes. Is that a normal amount of time for someone to be taking a dump?
Hesitantly, you push the door open and yell out, “Fushiguro? You doing okay? Is it stuck? For a couple extra marks, I’ll give you a hand.”
No one replies.
Brows furrowing, you bend down, looking through the stalls. No feet. What the hell?
Ahead, a window is ajar. Big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well isn’t that convenient? The kind of convenient that exists only in fiction.
Aggrieved and feeling bamboozled, you stomp back to your dorm room, slamming the door, jumping face down on the bed and screaming into the pillows. You’d feel better if you knew he had a grudge on you, if you bumped into him the first day and spilled his coffee all over himself and he’d never forgotten it. Instead, he’s just like that: does things by the book, does his job well, and achieves the best grades with ease.
Naturally, he’d become the professor’s assistant, a coveted position that seemed like it was made for him from the very beginning, and made your life a living hell because he won’t ever make concessions for you.
Sure, you shouldn’t ask him to, but it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re generally a high performing student — punctual, hard working, ambitious — but you had one bad day which resulted in one bad essay and it lowered your average and now the internship you’d been eyeing could be snatched from your hands in a blink of an eye.
“It’s just not fair,” you cry out to your teddy bear. “It’s three marks. Three! Would it kill him to reread my essay and find those three marks?”
Mr. Teddy stares back at you and says, “He’s a grumpy man. Don’t take it personally.”
You sit up, blinking and processing his reply.
“Teddy…you’re right. He is a grumpy man, a TA with broad shoulders, yummy arms, and thick thighs with a bubble butt, but a man nonetheless. If he won’t pull favours for me, student to student, maybe he’ll pull favours for me man to woman.”
The plushie falls to the bed as you stand, staring at yourself in the mirror and formulating a plan.
With that you decide to seek him out the next day, sporting a new outfit and a different attitude.
.
.
.
“Hi.”
“Fuck off.”
The cafeteria’s busy. It always is. It’s loud enough that most people wouldn’t even hear the exchange — chairs banging on tile, trays clattering, someone laughing too loudly at a table nearby.
Toji’s hunched slightly over a bowl of udon noodles, chopsticks moving lazily as he slurps them down. Some sports clip plays on his phone, propped against his dented metal water bottle. Commentators yell about something you don’t understand. His sleeves are pushed up over his forearms, revealing ropey muscle and the faint silvery line of an old scar running across his wrist.
An old hoodie hangs off his shoulders over a plain white T-shirt. Distressed jeans, worn sneakers. He’s too big for the plastic chair, long legs spread under the table. When he saw you approach, his feet had hooked onto the chair legs, forcing you to fight to remove it from his clutches so you could take a seat.
So damn rude.
His glasses have fogged slightly from the steam of the noodles.
He doesn’t look up. But he knows it’s you. You can tell by the way his mouth tightens for half a second before he goes back to eating.
You snatch his phone away. His green eyes flick up, annoyed. You smile, arms pushing your breasts together so they spill over your tight top. Toji’s gaze doesn’t waver. He continues to stare at you like you’re a pest.
“You can’t take no for an answer?” he asks though it’s not a question at all. “Might want to retake the consent course.”
Manicured fingers walk up his bare forearm before scratching down from his elbow. His skin is warm. Light dusting of hair tickling your fingertips. “Oh, Toj, have I ever told you how handsome you are? Because you really are. You’re so damn hot I can hardly focus on the lectures.”
He snorts, still eating his noodles and still refusing to look at your cleavage. “That’ll explain why you’re missing marks.”
Jaw dropping, you force yourself to recover quickly. A heeled foot brushes against his calf, sliding his jeans up. You bat your lashes, sultrily saying, “The only thing I’m missing is your cock in me, big boy.”
Toji meets your eyes again. His scarred lips twitch. “I don’t need to tell you that was bad, do I?”
You cringe, foot dropping and whole body slumping back into the chair. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.” Then you sit up, handing him his phone, and asks, “Are the noodles good? I’ve never had them.”
Phone pocketed, he shrugs. “They’re just the cheapest deal on the menu. Growing girl like you should get something more filling.”
The menu’s extensive, and the only thing sticking out to you is the chicken burger and chicken tenders meal deal. It seems to be especially popular today but you’re not sure you can finish the whole thing.
“Hey, if I get the Meal Super Cluck Blaster, will you share it with me? I’ve got dinner plans later so I don’t want to fill up.”
That finally gets a reaction. Toji leans back a little and gives you a slow once-over. Tight top. Lacy bra peeking up. Glossy lips. More jewellery than usual. His eyebrow lifts. “That why you’re dressed like a hooker?” he asks lazily. “Hot date?”
“Nah,” you reply, waving him off. “Wore this for yo— Wait.” You lean forward, staring at him wide eyed. “Are you jealous? Are you in love with me already? Because for extra marks, I’ll cancel my dinner plans and promise myself to you for all eternity.”
Toji rolls his eyes. “Go get something to eat; you sound insane.”
You hop up. “Okay, but stay there, alright? Take my burger because I only want the tenders. Oh, and will you share a pot of cheesecake with me? I’m lactose-intolerant but I really want cheesecake right now.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He’s still here when you come back.
As soon as you hand him the wrapped up burger, he scarfs it down the way big men do, like they haven’t eaten in days. You push him the tenders too. You’d actually gotten a double serving of everything so you have your own portion of tenders and he gets to eat another burger. There’s no way a man his size could survive on udon noodles.
“Also, let’s not act like you didn’t leave me hanging outside the men’s bathroom yesterday,” you bring up after sipping your juice. “Can’t believe you left through the bathroom window just so you could get away from me.”
“I didn’t,” he says, mouth full and adjusting his glasses.
You frown, dipping a piece of chicken in hot honey. “No, you definitely did. I peeked and there were no feet in any of the stalls. Unless you’re telling me you can grow invisible.”
“Just lifted my legs when I heard you come in, which I knew your crazy ass would do, so I could finally leave in peace. Didn’t think it’d take you fifteen minutes though.”
A laugh escapes you. “You were waiting me out? Does that sound like the mature thing to do? Jeez, you need to act your age.”
Toji’s eyes meet yours. Your smile falters for the briefest second. “I’m not that much older than you,” he reminds you. “Only by two years.”
“And yet you call me kid or kiddo,” you retort, clearing your throat. Have his eyes always been that green and deep? And is his voice usually that husky and masculine? Because you could have sworn guys your age don’t sound like that.
He shrugs again, second burger finished in a blink of an eye. “Never hurts to remind yourself.”
“Remind yourself what?”
The legs of his chair screech as he pushes it back. He stands, picking up his tray, and answers, “Forget about it. Enjoy your dinner plans. And I’m taking the cheesecake — no one wants a gassy date.”
“Wait,” you call out before he can turn away. “My marks?”
A pat on the head ruffles your hair.
“Still a no, kid.”
.
.
.
“What if I suck your dick?”
Toji lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade for another class; I don’t have time for you.”
The door shuts behind you. His office is bare, not a single decoration littering the place, not a plant nor a picture.
His office is exactly how you remember it — disappointingly, aggressively empty. The walls are a dull institutional beige that makes the overhead fluorescent light feel even harsher. No posters. No photos. Not even a sad little plant struggling for life in the corner.
Just a desk. A filing cabinet. Two chairs that look like they were stolen from a waiting room. It’s the kind of office someone occupies temporarily, like he expects to leave at any moment and doesn’t see the point in settling in.
Leaning against the desk anyway, your fingers drum lazily along the edge.
You’ve been here before: once to argue about a paper he’d shredded with red ink, once because you’d missed an exam and needed him to sign a form, and once because you’d sworn you heard him swearing loud enough to be heard halfway down the hallway.
You grip his shoulder, squeezing as you scan the fat stack of papers on his desk — the prof’s particular about handwritten essays. There’s so much to read through; you do not want to be him.
“God,” you mutter, flipping through a few pages of the stack. “There’s like fifty here.”
“Seventy-two,” Toji corrects without looking up. His handwriting is sharp and aggressive, red ink slashing through entire paragraphs like he’s committing academic murder. You wince in sympathy for whoever wrote the paper currently being dismantled.
“Good thing you can multitask, can’t you? I’ll suck your dick under the desk, you grade papers, and you bump me up a grade. Easy.”
He shrugs you off, hulking body hunched over and pen scratching on the papers, leaving harsh circles and comments like, ‘what the hell does this mean?’ and ‘you can’t just say perchance.’
Toji gruffs, “I’m serious. Take your jokes elsewhere.”
Nah, you think to yourself.
With a massive struggle against his weight, you yank his chair back, wheeling him a distance from the desk and clambering under before he can fill the space again. He makes some noise above you but you pay him no mind. Your hands rest on his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, marvelling at the density, at the strength you find in them.
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” His foot nudges your knee. “Get the fuck out. I’ll cropdust you if I have to.”
You call his bluff by clutching his clothed cock. He jolts, grunting. Laughing softly, you muse, “You say all that but you have a semi already — did my proposition get you hard, Toji?”
You’re rubbing his hard on, trying not to get flustered by how big he feels, and how fat the girth is. Of course he’s big. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been so surprised; he’s a big man so naturally the proportions will match up.
“Suck my dick, don’t suck my dick, it doesn’t matter,” he says, sighing and probably pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting those marks.”
He thinks that’ll stave you off because he knows you’re whoring yourself out for a grade. What he doesn’t know is that your stupid little brain’s already forgotten about all of that the moment you felt his cock. Now all you can think about is how you’ll have to stretch your lips nice and wide to take him in, and even then, even when your throat is lax and loose, you won’t be able to take him to the base.
Toji grunts again, peering down at you. “You mouthing at my dick? Did’ya not hear what I said?”
Like you’ve been possessed, you press kisses to where his tip is, humming around it. “I heard, but your dick’s saying other things to me, and I know which I prefer to listen to.”
“My dick’s not marking your paper, so get the fuck up,” he growls.
“Don’t wanna.”
“You’re fucking killing me here.”
A heavy hand bundles your hair up, pulling but you fight against it, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints. His boxers have a hole, and yet you only find it endearing. Freeing his cock so it bounces up and smacks your cheek, it leaves a wet mark on your skin.
Tutting, he wipes away the wetness from your skin.
Oh fuck, he really is big.
With nothing between you and his dick, you can see him in all his glory in the partial shadow of under his desk — long, thick, flushed red, already shiny at the slit, veiny as hell, hairs at the base wild and unruly, with weighty balls to match. You’ve never seen anything better.
Tongue out, you lick him from base to tip, prodding at his frenulum.
“Quit it,” he commands through gritted teeth.
You moan wantonly, already addicted to the salt on his kin, to the texture of his veins, to the softness of his cockhead. “Toji, you’re so big. I don’t think this’ll fit inside me.”
The thing throbs, bobbing. A droplet oozes out and you quickly lick it up. The hand that was pulling your hair has grown slack, simply resting on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping the wood.
Voice hoarse, he mutters, “If anyone can make it fit, it’ll be your stubborn ass.”
Your eyes meet his from under the desk, mischief sparkling in them you’re sure. His cock throbs again. “I thought you had papers to mark, Fushiguro. Maybe you should get on that, no?”
A calloused thumb presses down on your lips, shushing you. It slides down, bringing your bottom lip down with it, before releasing it so it’ll bounce back in place. That same thumb holds your jaw open, hand guiding your mouth to his tip. You know what he wants. You also know that he knows that you both know that you won this time.
Wide as you can, you take as much of his length as possible. You don’t get much further than a third of the way, full beyond belief and overwhelmed by just how much of him there still is. Your nails dig into his thighs.
“If this is supposed to convince me to give you extra marks, then you’re failing real hard, doll,” he notes, gripping the base. “Can barely fit the head, can you?”
He’s acting like it’s your fault he’s so big.
Challenged, you loosen your throat to take him an inch deeper. You gag around the length. Toji curses under his breath. “Careful,” he mutters. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
You ignore him in favour of shallowly bobbing, sucking and licking what you can, as though he’s a lollipop. It’s actually kinda fun.
The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper and paper rubbing on paper echoes in the relatively quiet office. Only the wet sounds of your mouth sucking his cockhead pierces the silence.
Growing more and more used to his size, you flick your tongue around the head, letting your hands wrap around the rest of him, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth. Occasionally, he makes a couple breathy noises — low grunts when your tongue laps up his tip, gravelly groans when you hollow your cheek to suck, and rough exhales through his nose when you grip his balls, massaging them, thumb rubbing the seam.
It becomes easier to forget why you were here in the first place; you’re just blowing him for your own entertainment now, wanting something to occupy your throat.
Then, he asks, as though he’s making casual conversation, “How was the date?”
“Hmm?”
Toji rolls his eyes. “The date,” he repeats. “How was it? He pay for the meal? Open doors, see you to your door, kiss you goodnight and shit?”
Your lips stretch into a smile. You release him with a pop! “I didn’t go on a date,” you tell him. “My friends hosted a housewarming party because they moved in together. I had a great time, thanks for asking.”
Is he pleased? Unaffected? Genuinely just making conversation? Hard to tell, except for the pushing of his hand, urging you back to his dick, and taking him further inside your throat, till his tip bumps the back of the gummy walls.
“Good,” he exhales out, thighs flexing around your body. “That’s real good.”
“My blowjob skills or that I had a great time?” you ask, words muffled and barely understandable.
“Both,” he answers. “Both, doll.”
A knock on the door has you both stiffening. Toji glares down at you and whispers, “It’s the prof. Do not make a sound.”
He didn’t need to tell you that — you’re well aware that if you get caught, you’ll both face disciplinary action, and will likely be kicked out of the university. That’s worse than not getting the internship.
The office falls quiet so suddenly you can hear the ticking of the wall clock. Toji’s hand tightens briefly against the desk as the knock comes again. “Come in,” he calls, voice steady.
The door opens before he even finishes the word.
“Ah, Fushiguro, there you are,” the professor says, stepping inside with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left already.”
From your position under the desk, you can only see shoes. Polished leather. Slow steps across the floor. You don’t slide his cock out of your throat, lest it makes a sloppy noise that’ll give you both away. So you breathe through your nose, being very, very quiet.
“No, I was just finishing up some grading,” Toji replies, cool as a cucumber.
His tone is annoyingly normal. Completely unbothered. He’s really convincing. Has he done this before? Is this a normal occurrence? Do a lot of girls offer to blow him for better marks, and does he take them up on it? Are you the one exception to his generosity?
“Good, good.” Papers shuffle. A chair creaks as the professor sits across from the desk. “I actually wanted to ask about the research methods essays.”
Of course he did.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
Toji shifts slightly above you — just enough that the movement brushes your shoulder — and then he leans back in his chair. “Yeah?” he says.
“I noticed something odd in the submissions this year,” the professor continues. “Half the class seems to misunderstand the section on sampling bias.”
He hums thoughtfully. “You mean where they’re supposed to explain the limitations of convenience sampling?”
“Exactly.”
A sheet of paper slides across the desk.
“You see this one here—”
From below, you hear Toji pick it up.
“—they describe the method correctly, but their conclusion contradicts their own analysis.”
There’s a pause whilst the TA reads. You stare at the underside of the desk and try not to shift your knees. God, this is like torture. Having a cock lodged in your throat and not being able to do anything with it is hell. Above the desk, they’re chatting away, talking about your fellow students, with the professor none the wiser that one such student’s under the desk.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They’re treating correlation like it proves causation.”
“Precisely!” the professor says, sounding delighted. “It’s surprisingly common.” Another pause. You hear a pen tap the desk twice. “I was thinking next year we might restructure the lecture slightly,” the professor continues. “Maybe introduce a short case study before the assignment.”
“Could work,” Toji replies. “Give them something concrete, tangible, to analyse.”
Your legs are starting to cramp. Your lips tighten around his hot cock. Toji brushes your hair back from your face, a quiet act to show he hasn’t forgotten about you. The professor keeps talking, completely unaware.
“Also,” he says, shuffling more papers, “the literature review sections were stronger this year.”
“Mm.”
“I suspect the workshop helped.”
Toji lets out a quiet huff that might be agreement.
“You handled that well, by the way,” the professor adds. “The students seem to respond to your feedback.”
This is way too boring, you decide. In an act you might end up regretting for the rest of your life, your offended tongue prods his tip where he’s still leaking salty precum.
He grunts, knee crashing up on the wood.
The professor asks him if he’s alright, and Toji replies, “Fine. Sorry. Just had a cramp.”
A triumphant smile pulls at your lips, which is quickly wiped away by the sudden pinch at your cheek. You wince, unable to smack him in retaliation.
A sigh fills the room. “I fear you work too hard, Fushiguro. You ought to take a break here and there. Do something fun and wild, or whatever it is people your age do nowadays.”
“I am having fun,” Toji says, hand coming back to rest on your head, growing heavier and heavier until you’re forced to take him inside your mouth, deeper and deeper. “In my own way.”
He’s filling you up more than he was before, now more insistent, no longer so passive. You’re struggling to take him but he’s not letting up. Fuck, you’re soaked between the legs. Who knew you had an oral fixation?
“Well, good,” the professor says. He pushes his chair back. Your heart jumps in joy. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know those papers won’t mark themselves. Boy do I not envy you.” He laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You too, Professor.”
Footsteps move toward the door. The handle turns. The door opens. Closes. Silence. Two seconds pass.
Then Toji peers down, licking his scarred lips, and mutters under his breath, “You needy fucking girl. Couldn’t wait, could you? Couldn’t resist not being a pain my fucking ass. If you want cock so badly, then here you go.”
His hips thrust up, hand keeping you in place. Your eyes fly open, throat stretching to take all of him in. Oh, he was as pent up, as frustrated, as you were. The force in which he’s rutting inside your throat displays that nice and clear.
“You’ll do anything for a good grade, won’t you? Even debase yourself like this. God, you drive me crazy.”
You gag around his cock but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. No, Toji’s just rutting inside your mouth over and over again, grunting louder and louder now.
Meanwhile, your hand seeks out the heat between your legs. You grind against the heel of your palm, moaning around his length. The vibration has his balls tightening up.
“Fuck!”
Hot cum bursts inside, coating the walls of your throat and your tongue.
Toji leans back in his chair, which creaks. You pull him out, coughing at the salty burn. Damn, even his loads are big. It’s like a cream puff exploded inside your mouth.
Hands carry you up, sitting you on his thigh. One rubs your back in circles, the other wipes away the tears at your eyes, licking at the wetness he’s collected on his thumb. “You good, kid?” he asks, brows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you respond, voice hoarse and not fooling anyone. “I’m good.”
You take a sip of his water from his water bottle, not caring about the fact that you’re drinking from where he had been, and if he cared that your mouth which had been sucking on his dick and cum is on his cup, he didn’t say.
He sighs, tucking himself back in and says, “Come by my place tonight. Hand me your essay again and I’ll reread it. But I’m not making any promises about finding extra marks, alright? It’s just a second chance, and the only one you’ll get.”
Dopily, you smile at him. “Throat game that good, huh?”
His lips twitch. He shoves you away, smacking your ass as you walk away.
“I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t be late.”
Nodding, you head for the door, not leaving however till you ask, “Should I wear matching underwear, or is this a strictly keep your clothes on meeting?”
“Fuck off before I regret it.”
“Lacy thong it is!”
.
.
.
“Should I spread my legs now or do you want me to fluff you first?”
Toji’s deadpan face meets you when he opens the door. He sighs as though he’s regretting this already. Regardless, he lets you in.
You can tell he showered recently — there’s the scent of cheap soap lingering on his skin and his hair is still a little damp.
His apartment is nice and clean, which surprises you somewhat. Most guys your age tend to be messy. But you should have known the TA would be neat and organised.
“I’m serious,” you begin, snuggling up to his side and batting your lashes up at him, “what position do you want me? I’m not the most flexible but I’m not too bad.”
Shaking you off, he pushes you in the direction of the living room where the coffee table is covered with carefully laid out papers he no doubt carried from campus to continue working on. “Go sit down, you horny gremlin. Make some room for your essay and let’s get this over with.”
You do as he says, folding your legs so you can sit by the coffee table on the rug. You take the essay out of your bag, shoving all the others to the side. With a frown, you ask, “So we’re really not fucking?”
He folds himself down too, sitting beside you, knee brushing yours. “I don’t solicit sex in exchange for academic favours. Dunno why you’re so surprised by that — can’t recall having done anything to make you think otherwise.”
“Well, you did give in after I blew you, so…”
“I was gonna offer before you did all that,” he informs you, snorting. “Just never promised to give you the marks.”
Toji adjusts his glasses, taking your papers and starting his reassessment of it. His lips purses, brows furrows, and he stares at the thing like it could tell him the answers to the universe. That or it’s so bad he just can’t fathom what you were thinking.
“Second paragraph, third line, why the hell is it so convoluted?” he asks, voice returning to that grumpy tone you’re more than familiar with now.
It’s the latter, it would seem. He really meant business. You shaved and everything for nothing. What a shame.
Leaning over, you rest your head on his big bicep, and, with a pout, reply, “I thought it sounded smart; I was pretty proud of that line actually.”
“No, doll,” Toji says, sighing. “The simpler the better. Don’t purposefully complicate your syntax. Only do what’s necessary to get the point across. If I, an expert in this topic, can barely understand what you mean, how is the ordinary person supposed to?”
“Yeah, okay. Simple is better, I get it.”
He continues reading, red pen in hand and making annotations as he goes. Meanwhile, you’re worming your way into his lap: one hand resting on his thigh at first, then a leg thrown over his. He notices what you’re doing — there’s no way he doesn’t know — but he doesn’t put up a fight. Eventually, you’re sitting in his lap, his chin resting on your head, and his arms caging you in.
Toji’s warm. He’s comfy to rest on despite all the muscles. Closer now, his soapy scent envelops you. It goes straight to your head. You find yourself squirming.
“Keep still,” he reprimands, underlining a phrase twice for emphasis. “You can’t just use jargon if you’re not going to explain it. It’s bad practice.”
“Got it.” Fiddling with his spare hand, running your fingers down his and over his palm, you ask, “Are academics supposed to have calluses?”
“They bother you or something?”
“No, not at all. I’m just curious.”
He hums. “I do odd jobs here and there, some more manual than others so yeah I built up some calluses.” Without missing a beat, he pivots the topic. “Tell me again what the difference is between compliment and complement.”
You bring that hand up to your breast, imploring him to grope your tits as you reply, “With an I is to praise someone or something, and with an e is to say something matches well with another.”
A moan escapes your lips when he squeezes in approval. Toji mutters, “Good girl. Guess you do listen to me.” Thumb brushing your hardened nipple through the thin material of your top, you squirm in his lap. His lips move against the top of your head. “No bra?”
“I figured you were going to take it off me anyway so I didn’t bother,” you say, still pressing his hand to your tit, riding the motions of every grope and flick of your nipple.
Another hum.
Slowly, you guide that hand down lower. He must know what you’re doing, where you want it to end up, but he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t reprimand or put up any resistance; he’s curious to see how far you’re willing to go. And you’re curious to see how much restraint he has, how long he can hold out before his façade of nonchalance breaks and he’s fucking up inside you.
You tease yourself, and him, first — his fingers, with your guidance, tease your bare thighs, following the hem of your tight skirt. Growing breathless, you ask, “What kind of odd jobs do you do?”
Toji’s calluses tickle the sensitive skin in your inner thighs just right. He’s still marking your paper, occasionally fact-checking your ideas and his theories in a textbook on the table. Amused, he retorts, “You curious about me, doll?”
“Hmm, I want to know exactly whose cock will be stretching me out in a minute.”
He snorts, patting your clothed pussy. You jolt with every impact. “I tutor on the side. Fix up some cars in the garage in town. I’m a physical trainer for three clients at the local gym too. And when I’m low on money, I sell risqué pictures of myself. That disgust you?”
All while he answers, Toji’s blunt nails scrape your slit through your panties. He’s not applying much pressure at all, if any, and yet every skim, every travel up and down has goosebumps rising on your skin.
“N-no,” you answer quickly. “I think that’s really cool. If I had a body like yours, I’d take pictures all the time too.”
His laughter rumbles in his chest. An odd sense of pride warms your own. He says, “Your body’s more than good enough to sell too, you know. Don’t act like you don’t know guys give you double takes all the time, or that your ass could stop traffic.”
Giggling, you lean back, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you stare at my ass sometimes, Toji?”
God, you’re soaked. You can tell, though you’re not embarrassed whatsoever. If anything, you’re just itching for him to pull your panties to the side and touch you skin to skin, to plunge inside your pussy and make a mess out of you.
“Tell me where you can, and should, insert a semi-colon in paragraph six, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”
He nudges you with his chin. “Go on. Quit thinking with your pussy and give me the right answer.” A little aggrieved, you sit up straight, holding his wrist to keep his hand between your legs. Your eyes scan the section. Tentatively, you point to a full stop on the second line. Toji shakes his head and smacks your clothed pussy again. “Try again, and don’t guess.”
“Here,” you snarl, feeling way past pent up. “Now give me my reward.”
Toji huffs. “Semi-colons help for varying sentence structures. It’s in the little ways you can convey your points compellingly. Don’t underutilise the right punctuations.”
“Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. Rub my clit and answer my question already.”
Cool air brushes against your swollen, glistening lips. You sigh when his warm hand covers the entire slit barely a second later. His middle fingers are instantly coated in your wetness. He groans. “Fuck, doll, you’re dripping.” Toji doesn’t give you a moment to respond to that; his fingers rub at your throbbing clit in tight circles, drawing it out of his hood. You moan, back arching.
Finally, he answers, “I stare at your ass all the fucking time after I glare at the losers whose eyes wander from their laptop screens . I’m a big, fucking hypocrite — that what you wanna hear?”
“Fuck yes!”
Rustling of paper reaches your ears. Then two hands are on you: one furiously rubbing the bundle of nerves and the other gripping your throat. He squeezes threateningly. Your vision spots, jaw dropping. “Look at you, all desperate to have my cock inside you. And for what? For a couple marks? You’re not ashamed?”
Your ass is grinding back on his boner, sandwiching the hard thing between your cheeks as your own answer. How could you be ashamed when he wants you so bad too?
“I’m horny! Are you gonna fuck me or not?”
In a split second, you find your world spinning. Your back falls on something hard. You’re staring up at the ceiling, papers scattered beneath you. Rough hands tug you down by your thighs. When you peer down, Toji’s staring up at you from between your lips.
“Yeah, I’m fucking you. You already knew I was gonna. You gonna let me taste your pussy first?” A challenging brow quirks up, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.
Instead, your legs hook over his shoulders, ankles crossed. You grin at him.
Panties pulled to the side, his fingers spread your pussy for him. Those eyes scan every inch. He releases a shaky breath, cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Even your pussy’s pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” Running a hand through his hair, he says, “You’re always such a pain, aren’t you?”
“I can’t help that every part of me’s pretty,” you reply, twirling your hair.
“Shut up and play with your tits — I like a show with my dinner.” Toji spits a fat dollop right on your clit. It slides down your slit but before it can disappear in the crevice of your ass, his tongue is collecting it and shoving it inside your cunt.
You gasp. “Fuck, Toji!”
In spite of his aggressive tone, you pull down your top, letting your tits bounce out. Those eyes follow every jiggle. “Good girl,” he rasps. “Squeeze them for me nice and hard. Good. Real fucking good.”
His glasses are foggy now with your own humidity, rattling with every movement. He’s eating your pussy out like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything better, like he’s going to make sure not a single trace of you can be found in his apartment after he’s done with you.
Growling, he spread your thighs wider. “Course you’ve got a sweet pussy,” he says, brows furrowing in what appears to be anger. “Course it’s sweeter than that fucking cheesecake. Course I’ll be craving you till I die.”
Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging for purchase. “Ngh, Toji, my clit…suck my clit!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Those scarred lips, the very ones you’ve stared at more times than you can count, wrap around your clit, sucking hard the way you did when you were blowing him under the desk. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”
Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you, and you know he’s doing it on purpose, addicted to how responsive your body is to him.
Two fingers worm their way through your pulsing hole, basking in the rough textures of your entrance, stretching your gummy walls on their way to curling against that spot that has you oozing more cum out.
“You’re fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re gonna struggle taking all of me later.” Then he barks a laugh, spare hand pressing down on your belly where the pressure builds up. Your toes curl. “A better man would take pity on you, go slow or wait another day, but I’ve already had my tongue inside your cunt so I’ll spare you the gentleman act.”
More fingers shove in, ignoring the screech that you let out. You’ve never had more than two and yet all four of his thicker, longer fingers are inside pushing your walls to their very limits.
Despite that, he remarks, entertained by the shock on your face which he studies through his glasses, “Suck it up, buttercup — my cock’s thicker than this, you know that.”
You do.
It’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. Hours after, your jaw’s still stretched out, sore and creaking after the workout you put it through. The thought of having something even thicker, longer than his four fingers has you growing dizzy, head handing over the coffee table.
“Yeah, my cock can’t wait to feel you too,” Toji says, not to you but to your pussy which is squelching lewdly and loudly. “Had to resist jerking my dick raw all day so you better make it good for me.”
Is it seconds later, or minutes, maybe hours, when you cum?
How ever long it is no one can deny it’s the strongest orgasm of your life.
Your entire body trembles, spasming beyond control. Are you screaming or silently moaning? Are your eyes shut or have you gone blind? And is he still pistoning his fingers inside you, damn near pushing all of his hand in?
“Stop,” you cry out. “No more, please!”
Mercifully, he yanks his hand out. Unfortunately, it leaves you feeling so empty you immediately crave the feeling of his hand gripping you from inside.
Lips and chin glistening, he kisses both inner thighs, which tremble.
Toji gathers you with one arm, showing off his strength as he carries you off the table and to the glass door which leads out to the balcony. It’s dark out and all you can see are the lights of people’s rooms in the apartment across. There are families lounging, dogs sleeping, TV’s blaring.
Behind you, you hear the rustling of his shirt as he throws it off carelessly. Bare skin grazes your own soon after his hands make quick work of the clothes you’re still wearing. In a flash, you’re naked. He bends down to pick up your fallen panties, inhaling the gusset deeply. Your legs cross tightly at the deeply satisfied groan he lets out.
“Next office hour,” he starts, lazily spreading your pussy lips and smearing your juices around so he can listen to the squelches and keep your squirming, “you better leave your panties with me. Consider it payment.”
You laugh. “Sure.”
Groggily, you try to keep your head up, wondering what you’re doing by the window, still a little out of it. A hand clutches your jaw, aiding you.
“I’m gonna fuck you against this window,” he announces, leaving no room for arguments. “You want those extra marks? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock like a champ.”
Ass gyrating back against the hot, heavy thing still confined in sweatpants, you wonder, “Do you have an exhibitionism kink?”
He lets go of you. You have to catch yourself by pressing your palms to the cold glass. Toji drags your hips back, foot kicking your legs apart. His cock plops onto your ass, scalding. “No, I have a ‘get my time’s worth from shameless women who waste my time with demands for better grades by humiliating them’ kink.”
“Sounds long. We should get that shortened,” you drawl.
His cockhead slides through your pussy, coating itself in your wetness. The fat thing bumps against your clit. You shudder.
Satisfied with your natural lubrication, he prods your entrance. “Yeah, we should. Let’s call it, Shut The Fuck Up And Take It.”
Then he enters you in one go.
You scream.
The window fogs up with your breath. Your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You’re taking so much of his length so quickly that it should be painful. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of pain, not one you didn’t like at least — only the overwhelming pleasure of being filled up is resonating.
Toji grunts. “Almost had to fist this cunt and you’re -hah fuck- still too tight.”
Pummelling his cock in, his hips don’t pause for a second. You gasp for breath, palms slipping and sliding on the condensation that’s built up on the glass. It’s like you can feel him in your lungs, so impossibly deep, so hot, so intimidating.
“God, it should be a crime to have a body like this,” he says, hands groping every part of your flesh he can reach. He slaps your ass to watch it jiggle for him. He’s an ass man, that much is clear.
The force of his thrusting has you pushed closer to the glass, so close now that almost your entire front is flush with the surface. The coldness grazes your nipples. You moan.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
He tugs you back to him, body sliding down the glass till your ass is jutted out. Toji carries your hips up so you can reach him, but it means your toes are only brushing the floor. You cling to the glass door as much as you can. Through the glossy haze, you see the marks you left on the glass, from the oils and sweat on your skin. You see the outline of your tits, all round and fat, the handprints you left and the smearing of them all over the place because you couldn’t grapple with one position to have them in.
Are people watching? Are you flashing a poor old man, are you reigniting a sexual appetite in a pitiful divorcee, making a housewife jealous, creating fantasies for some guy your age? Are people rubbing one out to the flashes of ecstasy on your face, to the swaying of your tits, to the rippling of your ass?
Toji’s fingers creep under you, furiously teasing your clit. You whine. “I think I’m gonna cum again.”
“Go on, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Lemme feel you cum around my cock. Make my dreams come true.”
Two fingers gather the cream that’s formed a ring at his base. He draws three letters on the glass for you to stare at. It spells out c u m.
God, he’s dirty.
Another orgasm ripples through you. Your thighs shake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Toji!”
He growls out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, threatening to bruise, “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum early.”
Without waiting for you to come down from your high, he flips you around. Your back thuds against the door. His cock reenters you in a clean, easy slide, cunt beyond soaked and stretched out. Your arms and legs wrap around him.
Those glasses of him have fogged up so thickly now that they fail to serve their purpose. Toji takes it off with one hand, sliding it onto your head, like a headband keeping your face clear of your hair. “Don’t let them fall,” he orders. “They break and you won’t be getting that internship.”
And his lips?
They smack against yours.
He kisses you, all tongue and teeth and drool dripping down chins, like he’s been waiting weeks, months, perhaps years to do that. And you kiss him back just the same.
Inside you, his cock throbs. Toji’s hips swing back and forth, pelvis grinding on yours, rubbing your clit and wringing our more obscene squeeeelches.
“Oh god, I’m so full, Toji. You’re so fucking big.”
“You’re -hngh- t-taking me so well,” he praises, littering sloppy kisses all over your face and neck all while he pinches and rolls your nipples. “Moaning so adorably, all pretty and finally keeping this mouth quiet of smartass comments. You should be like this all the time.”
The rocking of his cock inside you is even better like this. The closeness, the warmth, the taste of him — you wonder why you waited so long to do this.
Tits squashed to his chest, your nipples scrape his skin, slipping and sliding with the sweat beading down your bodies. The hard planes of his chest feel magnificent. Nothing about his muscles are for vanity only, and the knowledge of the strength he’s holding back has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You’d miss my smartass comments,” you tell him, head thrown back and hips working their way down on his cock of their own volition.
Toji groans against your neck, licking droplets of sweat. “Yeah, maybe. I definitely wouldn’t miss your spelling errors though.”
Smiling, you tug his head up by his hair, and bite his bottom lip. You pull and let go so it’ll snap back into place like he’d done with your lip when you were under his desk. “Maybe if you taught me like this, I wouldn’t -hah- make so m-many mistakes— deeper, Toji! Fuck me deeper.”
His hips plough deeper inside, like you wanted, hitting that spot inside you till you’re sure it’ll be bruised in the morning. Moans after moans are fucked out of you; his neighbours will give him an earful tomorrow, you’re certain.
“Book more office hours just to see me and not because you want something from me, then we can see if I can fuck your stupidity out of you,” he retorts.
You peck his lips. “Aw, does poor, needy Toji want me to give him more attention? Does he miss me when I’m not there? What a cute little baby.”
“Yeah, he does, actually,” he says, smirking. “That a problem?”
“It will be if you don’t make me cum.”
Toji reminds you, “You’ve been cumming around my cock this entire time; you still want more? Greedy girl.”
He pulls away from the window, stalking over to the sofa instead. Each step burrows him deeper inside you, kissing your cervix and pushing out gasps from your lips, all of which he swallows.
Carelessly, he throws you on the sofa. You bounce with an oomph!
Ankles held by one hand, he keeps your legs upright, hips lifted up to meet his. Toji presses a kiss to your ankle bone before he pushes his cock back inside. Your back arches with a mewl. Like this, his huge body becomes even more glaring — he’s casting a shadow over you, completely dwarfing you, reminding you how easily he could break you, how he could take whatever he wants from you.
Every time he buries himself to the hilt, a bulge pops through your tummy, right under your belly button.
“Look at that,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over it. You whine. “Feel me deep inside you? You’ll be feeling me inside for days, won’t you? Once it starts to fade, you can always come back for another fill, you know.”
“Promise?” you ask, grinning ear to ear.
Toji pulls out, leaving just his tip before he slams back in, jostling you down on the sofa. His abs contract, cock throbbing at the sudden clenching of your walls around him. “Fuck, yes, doll. Promise. I fucking promise.”
His glasses have slid off, rattling somewhere on the sofa with the impact of every thrust. He doesn’t seem to care about them anymore. You’re nearing another orgasm, head whipping around at the intensity of the pressure building in your core. He’s bullying his cock relentlessly in your cunt, chasing after his own high and sending you to yours.
When your eyes clash with his piercing, green ones, unobstructed by his glasses, you explode with a scream.
“F-fuck,” he grunts, following soon after.
Searing cum spurts inside you, cock pulsing, cum painting your walls. His thumb rubs your clit, aiding you through your orgasm. Your moans are vibrating against the walls, definitely disturbing his neighbours, but so are his groans.
He slumps over, rolling the two of you on the sofa so you’re resting naked on his heated body, his heavy arm preventing you from falling off. Your pussy’s sore, a mix of your cum and his dribbling out and creating a sticky mess on your inner thighs.
Absentmindedly, as you both catch your breath, he rubs your back. You draw shapes and letters on his chest. Toji combs his hair off of his forehead, chest rising up and down with his breathing. The dirty marks you two left are still on the glass, though it’s no longer foggy.
Reaching up above him, he gracefully finds his glasses, sliding them on his face. You like him with and without them.
“So,” you begin, “about those extra marks.”
Toji lifts his glasses up to rub a hand down his face. “Jesus, yes, you’ll get the marks.”
“Thanks!” you chirp.
“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”
.
.
.
“Fuck, Toji,” you moan. “I already came three times. It’s too -hic- too much.”
Your TA ruts his cock inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His glasses are on your nose bridge, blurring your vision; he gets so frustrated when the thing gets in the way of kissing you or eating you out.
“Shut up,” he rasps, hand pressing down on your lower belly so you can feel him even more. “You’re the one who dragged me here. Take every orgasm I give you and be grateful.”
That’s true — you were supposed to have an office hour with him, which is really an excuse to see your boyfriend before you have to attend the internship induction session, but then you took one look at him and his amazing body and started soaking through your panties so here you two are.
Oh yes, you did say boyfriend.
After he blew your mind out, you’d been visiting his apartment after classes so often, you were practically living there, and he didn’t mind. It started out casual, but after realising you two would go grocery shopping, watch movies together, and text each other practically every day, you decided to just seal the deal and make it official.
In short, he fucks good, and he can tolerate your personality, so you two stuck together.
A month in, neither of you are really regretting it. At least, if his desperate thrusting and sloppy kisses to your neck’s anything to go by.
“Missed you so much, Toji,” you whine, hips fucking back into him.
Toji groans, hand groping your tit from under your shit. “Yeah, baby?”
“Mmm.”
“Missed you too,” he confesses, licking a stripe up your neck and scraping his teeth down. Goosebumps rise on your arms. “Been wanting to see you all morning.”
You giggle, holding onto the stall for purchase and so his thrusting won’t make you smack face first onto the door. “You’re so cute w-when you’re needy.”
“Fuck off,” he says with no real heat to his words.
In the near distance, the door to the men’s toilets opens with a dull metallic creak, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls. Feet pad in—slow, unhurried. The steady rhythm of someone who expects the place to be empty.
“Fushiguro?” a voice calls out. “You in here?”
The two of you go very, very still. Toji’s entire body stiffens behind you, muscles locking. His hand clamps firmly over your mouth for extra measure, warm palm pressing tight enough that you can feel the tension in his fingers.
Your heart slams against your ribs, loud enough that you’re half convinced it might echo under the stall. What the hell is the professor doing here?
“Susan told me she saw you walk in this direction. You got a minute?”
Toji releases a tense breath through his nose, annoyed at the interruption but left with no choice but to answer. He lifts you up so your feet hang over the floor and won’t be seen by the outsider. “Yeah, prof. But I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
The professor laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I do apologise for interrupting you. I was just locked out of my account and can’t send emails for the next hour. You know how terrible I am with technology.” He enters the stall next door. He unzips his pants. You cringe. “I only wanted to ask if you’re prepared to host the internship induction later.”
You go still, this time for a different reason.
Your boyfriend releases your mouth. Fingers creep over to between your legs, where you’re still connected to him, where he’s still throbbing inside you. He slowly rubs your clit, keeping you from squirming in complaint with his strong arms. Toji responds, “Yeah, got all my notes ready.”
The bastard’s trying to distract you…
“Ah good, good,” the older man joyfully responds. His stream hits the water, and you fight the urge to face palm. “I had a look over the plans and the schedule. Very well organised, I must say. The competition was fierce, which is a testament to the success of the event, so props to you.”
Do men hold conversation so casually in the toilets?
Toji carefully begins moving in slow and shallow thrusts, prodding your g-spot over and over with his fat cockhead. You bite your lips to keep from moaning. Your nails dig into his thick arm. He ignores you.
“Don’t mention it, Professor.”
The man zips himself back up and flushes, exiting the stall. Outside, the tap runs, and you’re both still as quiet as rocks, afraid that any sudden movement will out you both as sexual deviants.
He adds, “Oh, and thank you for handling the applications for me; you know I hate all that paperwork nonsense.”
Your jaw drops.
Beyond tense, Toji replies like he’s aware of the weight every word exchange carries, “I do what I can do to help out.”
“I couldn’t do what I do without you,” the professor continues, sincere and ignorant to the fact that you’re there. The rustling of paper towels echoes. “Well, I’ll see you later. Apologies again for interrupting.”
The exit door swings open and you relax, but then his voice fills the space again.
“Do say hello to your pretty, little girlfriend for me.”
Your heart?
Drops to the fucking floor.
Toji’s grip on you tightens just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re pressed this close to him.
Your mind races. Did he see you come in? Did someone tell him? Did Susan, whoever the hell she is—
Toji speaks before you can spiral further, his tone sharper now, suspicion threading through it. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Oh, you know, the girl you’ve been eyeing for a while now — she’s on the internship, yes?” Then he laughs the kind of laughter old men do, all paternal and wise. “Don’t worry, son, I’m not accusing you of pulling strings; I know she’s a very intelligent young woman. Ambitious too. Almost as ambitious as you. I hope you two work something out.”
Your heart slows its beating but you’re not any less tense.
Sighing, Toji responds, “I’ll let you know if we do.”
“Yes, yes,” the professor says before he leaves for good.
Finally, it’s just you two in the men’s toilets again. The silence and emptiness is maddeningly relieving. Although, you’re seething, practically vibrating with accusations and anger.
Toji lets you down. Your feet touch the ground again. You pull him out, whirling on him with a disbelieving glare. You snatch his glasses off your face with one hand and smack his chest with the other. The man doesn’t budge.
“You sneaky piece of shit!”
He gathers both of your wrists with one hand, rolling his eyes. Toji takes his glasses from you and slides it on his face. Seeing you clearer now, he guides his cock back to your pussy, re-entering with ease. You moan, allowing him to hike your leg over his hip so he can press in deeper.
Kissing your lips, he mutters against your lips, “I did what I had to to get your attention. Sue me.”
“God, you’re the worst,” you breathe out, chest jutting out to his, nipples aching and clit throbbing.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I’m the big, bad wolf, and you’re creaming all over my dick right now. Let’s not act like you got the short end of the stick here.”
“Master manipulator,” you hiss, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his hair as soon he lets go of your wrists to grope your tit and ass.
“Whore,” he fires back.
Then the two of you smile, clutching each other tightly as you both rock into each other, nearing your mutual orgasm and riding the pleasure growing in your bodies. Fuck, he feels so good.
“We’re gonna be together forever and ever, aren’t we?” you ask.
The afternoon sun had already dipped low, turning the cabin gold and lazy, when you stirred again—body still humming from morning touches and the slow leak of him that never quite stopped. Toji had left you tucked in the furs with strict instructions: rest, eat what I bring, don’t fuckin’ move too much. But the basket of midnight berries still sat on the bedside table where you’d dropped it yesterday, fat and black and gleaming like forbidden candy.
You knew better.
Granny’s voice echoed somewhere far away: don’t touch those, red—they’ll drop you like a stone and wake up worse.
But your cunt was already aching again—empty now that the knot had eased, tender and greedy, remembering every thick inch. The soreness felt good. Too good. Made you squirm against the sheets, thighs rubbing together until slick started to gather once more.
One berry.
Just one.
You popped it between your lips—juice bursting dark and syrupy, staining your tongue, your fingers, the corner of your mouth. Sweet. Heavy. That familiar drugged warmth bloomed fast behind your navel, spreading like spilled honey down your limbs.
Another.
And another.
By the fourth your head was swimming, cheeks flushed, breaths coming shallow and quick. The berries hit different this time—sharper, hotter—igniting that low, needy fire between your legs until your clit throbbed in time with your pulse.
You kicked the furs aside.
No panties.
You’d peeled the ruined cotton off sometime after he cleaned you, too sensitive for anything touching your swollen folds. Now the short red dress rode high again—hem barely skimming the tops of your thighs—bare pussy on full display, lips puffy and glistening, clit peeking out fat and flushed like it was begging for attention even while your eyelids grew heavy.
You crawled to the center of the big bed—his bed—face down, ass up just enough to arch your back. Knees spread. Hips tilted. Messy little cunt presented like an offering, still leaking slow creamy traces of his cum mixed with fresh berry-sweetened slick.
The drug pulled you under fast.
You were asleep in seconds—cheek smushed against the furs, lips parted, drool already pooling under your chin, soft snores mixing with tiny needy whimpers every time your clit brushed the sheet.
Toji came back from chopping wood with an armful of split logs and the scent of you hit him like a fist.
Berries.
Wet pussy.
Sleep-drunk little tease.
He dropped the wood by the hearth—didn’t even bother stacking it. Door kicked shut. Lock clicked.
He stood at the foot of the bed for a long minute, chest heaving, ears pinned forward, tail lashing sharp behind him.
There you were.
Again.
Face down in his bed like you belonged there—dress rucked up, creamy thighs spread, fat little pussy lips parted and dripping, clit swollen dark pink and glistening like ripe fruit. Fresh slick stringing from your hole down to the furs. The faint purple bloom of his bite still marked your neck, but now there were new stains—dark berry juice smeared across your lips, your chin, even a streak on one soft cheek.
His cock jumped hard in his shorts—already thickening, knot starting to swell at the base just from looking.
“Fuckin’ brat,” he growled low—voice wrecked, feral. “Eatin’ more of those cursed things… no panties… crawlin’ back into my bed and fallin’ asleep with this messy cunt on display like you want me to lose my goddamn mind.”
He circled the bed slow—predator stalking prey—eyes locked on the obscene view between your thighs. Your pussy twitched in your sleep—clenching around nothing—another bead of slick welling up and dripping slow.
He couldn’t wait.
Didn’t want to.
The wolf was already snarling behind his ribs—heat rising fast, feral and mean and starving.
He dropped to his knees at the edge of the mattress—big hands clamping around your ankles—yanking you down the bed in one rough pull until your ass hung off the side, legs draped over his broad shoulders. Your sleepy body barely stirred—just a soft whine, hips twitching like even unconscious you knew what was coming.
Toji buried his face between your thighs without preamble.
No teasing licks. No gentle buildup.
He feasted.
Mouth open wide—tongue flat and greedy—lapping from your slit all the way up to your clit in one long, filthy stripe. Sucking the puffy lips into his mouth—hard—then letting them pop free wetly. Berry-sweet slick coated his tongue, mixed with the faint salt of his own dried cum still clinging inside you. He groaned into your cunt—deep, animal—vibrations ripping a sleepy moan from your slack mouth.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he snarled against your folds—words muffled, spit dripping down his chin. “Drugged yourself stupid again just to make this pussy drool for me. Teasin’ little red… gonna eat this messy cunt till you wake up cryin’.”
He sucked your clit hard—lips sealing around the fat bud—tongue flicking fast and mean while two thick fingers plunged into your soaked hole without warning. Curled. Pressed. Pumped in rough, wet squelches that filled the room.
Your hips jerked—still asleep—whimpering high and needy, thighs trembling around his head. Drool slipped from the corner of your mouth onto the furs. Berry-stained lips parted wider—soft snores turning to broken little gasps.
He didn’t stop.
Lapped lower—tongue dragging over your perineum, circling your tight rim—spit mixing with the mess already leaking from your pussy. Then back up—sucking your clit again—fingers fucking deeper—nails scraping that spot inside until your whole body arched off the bed even in sleep.
He was feral—drooling—growling into your cunt like he wanted to crawl inside it and never come out. Tail whipping behind him. Ears flat. Eyes blown black.
“Wake up, doll,” he rasped—pulling off just long enough to spit thick onto your clit, watching it drip down your folds before diving back in. “Wake up so I can fuck this greedy hole raw again. Gonna knot you so deep you’ll feel me for days.”
Your lashes fluttered—slow—dazed.
A sleepy whimper.
Then your eyes cracked open—glassy, unfocused—berry-drunk and wrecked.
Toji grinned against your pussy—all sharp teeth and hunger.
“There she is.”
He sucked harder.
Fingers curled meaner.
And your back bowed—waking scream tearing out as the orgasm crashed through you like a storm—gushing over his tongue, his chin, his hand—while the big bad wolf kept feasting like he’d never get enough of his teasing little red.
Toji pulled back from your spasming cunt with a wet, filthy pop—lips swollen, chin dripping with your berry-slick mess, eyes wild and black as pitch. Your orgasm still rolled through you in shaky little waves—hips twitching, thighs clamping around his head one last time before going limp. You were half-awake now, hazy and drooling into the furs, berry-stained mouth open in soft, broken pants.
He stared down at you—chest heaving, cock so hard it throbbed visibly against his ripped shorts, knot already bulging thick at the base.
“You little fuckin’ brat,” he growled—voice low, dangerous, edged with that feral mean that only came out when you pushed him too far. “Ate those berries on purpose, didn’t you? Stuffed your greedy mouth full just to knock yourself out and leave this drippin’ pussy right in my face like bait.”
You whimpered—small, guilty—trying to hide your face in the furs, but he wasn’t having it.
His big hands shoving your knees wider. Your dress bunched uselessly around your waist again, bare cheeks spread, pussy still leaking slow creamy trails down your inner thighs. The faint red handprints from earlier were already fading, but fresh goosebumps prickled across your skin as his hot breath ghosted over the curve of your ass.
“Wanted me to lose it while you slept,” he rasped—fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, prying you open wider. “Wanted the big bad wolf to wake up snarlin’ and bury his face in this messy cunt like a starved animal. Teasin’ me even when you’re out cold.”
You nodded—slow, dazed—berry-drunk brain too fuzzy to lie.
A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“Should’ve known better, red.”
He leaned in—nose dragging along the cleft of your ass, inhaling deep like he was scenting prey. Then his mouth was on you—hot, open, tongue lapping once more over your soaked folds just to taste the fresh gush you made at his words.
But he didn’t stay there.
He moved higher.
Teeth grazed the plump curve of your right cheek—sharp canines scraping just enough to sting—then he bit.
Hard.
Not enough to break skin, but deep enough to sink in—claiming—marking. The sudden flash of pain made you yelp—high and startled—back arching, cunt clenching hard around nothing. Fresh slick poured out, dripping onto the sheets in a pathetic little puddle.
Toji groaned against your flesh—teeth still locked—tongue soothing over the bite even as he sucked the skin deeper into his mouth. He held it for a long second—letting you feel the pressure, the possession—before releasing with a wet pop. A perfect ring of teeth bloomed red and angry on the soft globe of your ass—his mark, unmistakable.
“That’s for the berries,” he murmured—voice thick with lust and menace—kissing the fresh bruise once, soft, almost tender. Then he bit the other cheek—mirror image—harder this time—making your whole body jolt forward with a broken sob.
You were shaking now—ass in the air, marked and stinging, pussy throbbing so hard you could feel your pulse in your clit. Tears pricked your lashes again—not from pain, but from how full the ache felt, how much you wanted him to keep going.
He pulled back just enough to admire his work—two neat, red bite marks framing the cleft of your ass like twin claims. His tail lashed once—sharp—ears pinned back in that feral way that said he was barely holding onto control.
“Look at you,” he growled—fingers tracing the fresh bruises, pressing just enough to make you whimper. “All marked up. Drippin’ like a faucet. Still pretendin’ you didn’t do this on purpose.”
He flipped you onto your back again—gentler this time—crawling up your body until his face hovered over yours. Drool still shining on his chin, eyes blown wide, pupils nothing but black.
“You wanted me feral,” he said—low, dangerous—lips brushing yours. “Wanted me mean. Wanted to wake up to my teeth and my tongue and my cock already ruinin’ you.”
You nodded—frantic—lips trembling.
“Say it.”
“I—I wanted it,” you whispered—voice wrecked, berry-sweet breath ghosting his mouth. “Wanted you to… to lose it. While I was asleep. Wanted you to—to eat me till I cried.”
Toji’s grin was all teeth—slow, vicious.
“Good girl.”
He kissed you then with force, his tongue shoving in deep, letting you taste yourself and the faint copper of where his teeth had pressed too close. One hand slid between your thighs—two thick fingers plunging straight into your soaked cunt—curling mean against that spot while his thumb found your clit and rubbed rough circles.
You arched sweet screaming into his mouth, already climbing again.
He broke the kiss and bit your bottom lip hard enough to sting, then dragged his mouth down your throat, over the old bite, down to your tits. Sucked one nipple into his mouth his teeth grazing it while his fingers fucked you faster, wet squelches filling the room.
“Gonna make you come again,” he snarled against your skin. “Gonna make you gush all over my hand while I mark every fuckin’ inch of you. Then I’m gonna knot this bratty little pussy so deep you’ll feel my teeth in your dreams.”
His free hand slid under your ass—fingers digging into one fresh bite mark—squeezing until you cried out.
“And next time you eat those berries on purpose?” He lifted his head deep green eyes locked on yours, feral and mean and so fucking hot. “I won’t just bite your ass, red. I’ll bite everywhere.”
You came hard, screaming his name, your tight gummy walls clamping 'round his fingers, gushing slick that soaked his hand, his wrist, the furs beneath you.
Toji licked his lips slowly, watching you shatter.
Then he leaned down—kissed the corner of your mouth—soft, almost sweet.
“Rest up, doll,” he murmured—voice dropping to that dangerous velvet again. “’Cause the wolf’s still hungry.”
And with your ass still stinging from his bites, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers, you knew:
