Hii, I'm loving your writing already. So could you if you want write about a yearner Rick? I love them yearners.
Make him blush and a fool for reader, so much so no one believes if he's acting or for real. Maybe Y/n is one of space Beth's friend and she visits with Beth once and Rick is just a dumb fool for her?
Think 18+ rough Mr Darcy.
I still want him rough and manhandling, the same annoying and mean Rick but maybe he just flirts a lot but is a fool. I love the trope he falls first and hard af?
If you could please?
Like go wild with this idea please?
I am sooooo sorry I completely forgot about your request because my current daily life kept distracting me. I have finally finished the piece and hope it meets your expectations.
Not Another Garage Incident
Pairing: Rick Sanchez x f!reader
Summary:
When Space Beth brings a resistance fighter to the Smith house, Rick expects another annoying guest. Instead, he finds himself completely thrown off by someone who sees right through his usual sarcasm and walls. What starts as teasing in the garage quickly turns into undeniable chemistry, awkward interruptions, and a night neither of them planned for. Between interdimensional technology, a singing black hole, and Rick's complete inability to play it cool, things spiral out of control in the most unexpected way.
The interdimensional cable was playing some obscure alien soap opera when Rick let out a groan loud enough to make Morty flinch from the kitchen. "God *burp* damn it, not this episode again," Rick muttered, stabbing at the remote with more force than necessary. The screen flickered to a news channel broadcasting a meteor shower over the Citadel equally boring, but at least it wasn’t another rerun of *Zorblaxian Hearts*.
Space Beth chose that exact moment to stomp into the garage, her boots kicking up loose screws near the doorway.
"Hey, shithead," she said, tossing a crumpled bag of fast-food space nuggets at his head. Rick caught it without looking, already reaching inside for a handful.
"You’re *burp* blocking my wrench," he grumbled, but Beth just rolled her eyes and leaned against the workbench like she owned it which, in some timelines, she technically did.
"You’re gonna wanna clear your schedule tonight," she announced, picking at her nails with the tip of a pocketknife. Rick squinted up at her. "Why? You finally *burp* gonna let me dissect that cyborg liver of yours?" Beth flipped him off effortlessly.
"Better. Friend of mine’s crashing here. Human, from the resistance. Don’t be a creep."
Rick snorted so hard he almost choked on a space nugget. "*Ohhh,* so *that’s* why you’re *burp* polishing your knives," he sneered, wiping grease off his chin. Beth’s grin was all teeth. "Nah. I just like watching you embarrass yourself."
Before Rick could retort, the garage door slid open again and there you were, shrugging off a dust-covered jacket while Beth smirked like she’d already won something.
Rick’s fingers twitched around the remote, suddenly too aware of the oil streaking his knuckles, the way his lab coat hung half-unbuttoned over a three-day-old shirt. He didn’t *do* self-conscious except, apparently, when you stepped into the garage with a tired smile and a streak of engine grease on your cheekbone that made his brain short-circuit.
"Jesus *burp* Christ," he muttered, not entirely sure if it was about you or the way his pulse kicked like a malfunctioning reactor. Beth’s elbow dug into his ribs. "Play nice, old man," she whispered, voice dripping with mock sweetness. Rick’s retort died in his throat when you tossed your jacket over a chair and stretched, the hem of your shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin above your belt. His mouth went dry.
"You must be Rick," you said, wiping your hands on your pants before offering one to him. "Beth talks about you nonstop. Mostly about how you’re a *burp*—" He caught himself mid-sentence, realizing too late he’d mirrored your phrasing like some lovestruck Morty clone. Your laugh was low, warm, and it did something terrible to his chest. "Yeah, that tracks," you said, shaking his hand anyway. His fingers lingered a second too long.
Beth cleared her throat pointedly, her grin widening as Rick jerked his hand back like you’d burned him. "Told you," she sing-songed, tossing you a beer from the mini-fridge. You cracked it open with a flick of your thumb, and Rick’s brain helpfully supplied the image of those same fingers tugging at his hair which was *not* a thought he’d permit outside the privacy of his own skull.
Rick spent the next twenty minutes aggressively tinkering with a neutrino stabilizer he didn’t actually need to fix, just so he wouldn’t have to look at you lounging on his workbench like you belonged there. Which, fuck, maybe you did—the way you fit against the clutter of half-built gadgets and scattered tools made his garage feel less like a prison and more like… something else. Something he refused to name.
“So,” you said, tapping your beer bottle against the metal surface, “Beth tells me you’ve got a portal gun that can rip through dimensional fabric like wet tissue paper.”
Rick’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. “Oh, so *now* you’re *burp* interested in my tech,” he sneered, wiping his hands on his coat just to have something to do with them. “What, you wanna borrow it? Steal some *burp* classified resistance intel? Or just—”
“I wanna see you use it,” you interrupted, swinging your legs idly. Your boot nudged a stray wrench, sending it clattering to the floor. Rick’s eye twitched. “Bet you’re real fucking impressive when you’re not pretending to hate everyone.”
Rick's fingers froze around the stabilizer, the tool slipping from his grip with a metallic clatter. He blinked at you—once, twice—as if your words had short-circuited his usual sarcasm subroutine. Beth's smirk was audible from across the room. "Oh, this is *gold*," she muttered into her beer.
"You—*burp*—what?" Rick managed, his voice cracking in a way that would've been humiliating if he weren't too busy staring at the way your lower lip caught between your teeth when you smiled.
You leaned forward, elbows on your knees, the neckline of your shirt dipping just enough to make his throat go tight. "You heard me. Show me something *cool*, Sanchez." The way you said his name—like it was a dare, like it was *yours*—sent a jolt down his spine.
Rick wiped his palms on his coat again, suddenly hyperaware of the oil smudged across his knuckles, the way his sleeves were rolled up haphazardly. He *never* cared about shit like this. "Yeah? You *burp* wanna see cool?" He snatched the portal gun off the workbench, flicking the safety off with a practiced twist of his wrist. "How about a nebula that'll melt your *burp* retinas? Or—or a black hole that sings showtunes? *Pick.*"
The garage lights flickered as Rick punched coordinates into the portal gun with more force than necessary, his fingers stumbling over the keys in a way that hadn’t happened since he was seventeen and drunk on stolen Zeta-9 moonshine. You were still sitting on his workbench, one boot hooked around the leg of his stool like you were anchoring yourself to *him*, and it was making his brain misfire.
"Black hole," you said, tilting your head. "Definitely the black hole."
Rick’s grin was all teeth. "Oh, you’re *burp* gonna regret that," he muttered, but there was no bite to it—just a weird, giddy thrill curling in his chest. The portal gun whined to life, spitting out a swirling vortex of violet and gold. Beyond the rift, the event horizon of a collapsing star pulsed like a heartbeat, and from its depths echoed the unmistakable chorus of *Chicago*’s "Cell Block Tango."
You burst out laughing, the sound bright and startled, and Rick’s chest did something traitorously warm. "Holy shit," you breathed, leaning forward so far he had to grab your elbow to keep you from toppling into the abyss. His fingers burned where they touched you. "You *built* this?"
Rick's grip tightened on your elbow, his calloused fingers pressing into your skin like he was afraid you’d slip through them. "Built it? *Burp* Please." His smirk was crooked, but his eyes kept darting to where your fingers brushed against his wrist. "I *improvised* it. Original was boring—just sucked shit into oblivion. *This* one’s got *flair*."
The black hole belted out another verse, the gravitational pull ruffling your hair as you leaned closer, your breath warm against Rick’s cheek. "Flair, huh?" you murmured, and Rick’s brain short-circuited at the way your voice dropped, low and teasing. "Guess that makes two of us."
Beth choked on her beer from across the garage. "Oh my *god*," she wheezed, wiping her mouth. "This is *painful*."
Rick flipped her off without looking, his other hand still clutching the portal gun like a lifeline. The vortex pulsed, casting jagged shadows across your face, and for a split second, he imagined what it’d be like to drag you through—not to some dying star, but to his bed, his shower, the backseat of his goddamn spaceship. *Anywhere.* His throat clicked when he swallowed.
The portal gun sputtered, the black hole’s showtune cutting off mid-note as Rick’s fingers twitched against the trigger. Your knee bumped his thigh, and he nearly dropped the damn thing. "Careful," you said, laughing, but your fingers curled around his wrist to steady him, and suddenly Rick was *very* aware of how close you were—close enough to count the flecks of gold in your eyes, close enough to smell the cheap resistance-issue soap on your skin.
Beth groaned. "I’m *leaving*," she announced, slamming her beer bottle down hard enough to make Morty yelp from the kitchen. "If I stay, I’m gonna puke, and it’s not from the space nuggets." She jabbed a finger at Rick. "You—*embarrassing*. And you—" She pointed at you, her smirk widening. "You’re *good* at this."
The garage door hissed shut behind her, leaving the two of you bathed in the glow of the dying portal. Rick’s pulse roared in his ears. "Yeah, well," he muttered, flicking the safety back on with a *click* that felt too loud in the sudden quiet. "Don’t let it *burp* go to your head."
You didn’t move. Your thumb brushed the inside of his wrist, just once, and Rick’s breath hitched. "Too late," you said, and then you were leaning in, your free hand fisting in the front of his stupid lab coat, dragging him forward until his knees bumped the workbench. His brain flatlined.
The portal gun clattered to the floor as Rick’s hands found your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid you’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Your mouth was warm against his, insistent, and he groaned into the kiss, all pretense of sarcasm evaporating like cheap booze on a hot engine. His teeth caught your lower lip, tugging just enough to make you gasp, and the sound went straight to his dick.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice ragged. His thumbs brushed the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up, and he swallowed your laugh when you arched into his touch. “You—*burp*—you’re *trying* to kill me, aren’t you?”
You nipped at his jaw, your breath hot against his stubble. “Nah,” you murmured, your fingers sliding into his hair, tugging just hard enough to make his hips jerk forward. “Just proving a point.”
Rick’s brain short-circuited again when you rolled your hips against his, the friction drawing a ragged curse from his throat. He’d had entire civilizations worship him, had torn apart galaxies for less than this, but none of it compared to the way your nails scraped against his scalp or how your thigh pressed between his legs, relentless. His hands slid under your shirt, mapping the dip of your spine, the sharp rise of your ribs—every inch of you warm and real and *his*, at least for now.
Rick’s grip on your waist tightened as you rocked against him again, his lab coat crumpling between your fingers like tissue paper. The workbench creaked under your combined weight, tools scattering to the floor in a discordant clatter. He didn’t give a shit. Not when your teeth were digging into his collarbone, not when your hands were sliding under his shirt, calloused fingertips tracing the jagged scar along his ribs—the one he’d gotten from a botched heist on a quantum casino. “*Burp*—fuck,” he hissed, his hips stuttering against yours. “You’re *annoying*.”
You laughed, the sound vibrating against his throat as you nipped at his pulse point. “Liar,” you breathed, your knee pressing harder between his thighs. Rick’s head thunked back against the shelves behind him, a jar of glowing green liquid wobbling precariously near his ear. He should’ve cared about that, too. He didn’t.
One of your hands slid down his chest, fingers skimming the waistband of his pants with deliberate slowness. Rick’s breath hitched. “*Burp*—Jesus *fuck*,” he managed, his voice cracking. “You’re—*uh*—gonna kill me.”
“Dramatic,” you murmured, your thumb hooking under the button of his jeans. The sound of the zipper sliding down was obscenely loud in the quiet garage, drowned out only by Rick’s ragged exhale. Your fingers brushed the straining line of his boxers, and his hips jerked forward without permission, his hands tightening on your waist hard enough to leave bruises.
Rick's fingers dug into the workbench behind you, the metal edge biting into his palms as your hand slid under the waistband of his boxers. His breath came in ragged bursts, forehead pressed against yours, his usual stream of sarcasm reduced to a choked groan when your fingers curled around him. "*Burp*—fuck," he gasped, hips twitching into your grip. "You—*uh*—you're *good* at this."
You smirked, dragging your thumb over the head of his cock in a slow, deliberate circle that made his knees buckle. "Told you I wanted to see you impressive," you murmured, your breath hot against his lips. Rick's laugh was more of a wheeze, his fingers tangling in your hair as you dropped to your knees in front of him, the concrete floor cold against your skin.
His lab coat pooled around his thighs when you tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock jutting out flushed and leaking against his stomach. Rick's Adam's apple bobbed as he stared down at you, his chest rising and falling like he'd just sprinted across a fucking asteroid field. "You—*burp*—you don't have to—"
You cut him off by licking a slow stripe up the length of him, your tongue flat and hot against his skin. Rick's hand flew to his mouth, biting down on his own knuckles to stifle the noise that tore out of him. His other hand fisted in your hair, not pushing, just *holding*, like he needed something to ground him before he floated apart.
Rick’s knees buckled when you took him into your mouth, the wet heat of your tongue dragging a ragged groan from his throat. His fingers tightened in your hair, not guiding, just *feeling*, like he needed proof this wasn’t some fucked-up fever dream. The garage lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across the shelves of half-built inventions—none of which mattered now, not when your lips were stretched tight around him, your tongue pressing against the sensitive underside of his cock in a way that made his vision blur.
“*Fuck*,” he hissed, hips jerking forward involuntarily. One of his hands scrambled for purchase on the workbench behind him, sending a tray of screws clattering to the floor. The noise barely registered—not when you were hollowing your cheeks, swallowing him down until his thighs trembled. Rick’s head thudded back against the shelf, a jar of something glowing and unstable wobbling dangerously near his shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
Your fingers dug into his hips, holding him in place as you pulled off with a filthy *pop*, your breath hot against his wet skin. Rick’s chest heaved. “*Burp*—what the *fuck*,” he managed, voice wrecked. You grinned up at him, lips slick and swollen, and his stomach did something traitorously warm. “Problem, Sanchez?”
Rick’s laugh was more of a wheeze. He dragged a hand down his face, his palm coming away damp with sweat. “Yeah, *uh*—*burp*—you’re *killing* me.”
Rick’s fingers twitched in your hair, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as you licked another slow stripe up his cock. The taste of him—salty, faintly metallic from the adrenaline still humming under his skin—made your own pulse jump. You curled your fingers tighter around the base of him, relishing the way his hips jerked when you took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, until your nose brushed the coarse hair at his pelvis.
A high, punched-out sound escaped Rick’s throat. His grip on the workbench behind him was white-knuckled, the metal groaning under the strain. “*Jesus*—*burp*—*fuck*,” he rasped, his free hand tangling in your hair again, not guiding, just *there*, like he needed the anchor. His thighs trembled when you swallowed around him, your tongue pressing insistently along his length.
The garage door hissed open without warning.
Morty’s voice—high-pitched and mortified—cut through the haze. “*OH JEEZ*—uh, I-I’ll just—*wow*—I’ll be *not here*—”
Rick’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked, his lab coat hastily yanked down to cover himself as Morty backpedaled into a shelf, sending a cascade of spare parts clattering to the floor. “*Burp*—Morty, you little *shit*—” Rick snarled, voice still ragged, his face flushed a shade of red that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way your fingers were still loosely curled around his thigh.
You leaned back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and had the audacity to *smile* up at Morty like this was just another Tuesday. “Hey,” you said, casual as anything, while Rick’s brain short-circuited somewhere between *murder* and *fuck it, finish what you started*.
Morty’s hands flapped in front of him like he was trying to ward off an evil spirit. “I-I just came in for the *uh*—the plutonium rods—*oh god*—” He tripped over a toolbox, his sneakers squeaking against the concrete as he fled toward the door. “*Nevermind!* I’ll *burp*—I’ll *borrow* Jerry’s!”
The door slammed shut. The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
Rick exhaled sharply through his nose, his pulse still hammering in his throat as the echo of Morty’s fleeing footsteps faded. His fingers twitched where they’d frozen mid-air, half-reaching for you, half-ready to strangle his grandson. “*Burp*—fucking *Morty*,” he muttered, voice rough. His lab coat was rumpled, his hair a disaster, and his cock still painfully hard where it strained against his boxers.
You rocked back on your heels, grinning up at him with a smugness that should’ve been illegal. “Guess we scared him,” you said, dragging your thumb over your bottom lip like you were savoring the taste of him. Rick’s stomach flipped.
“Yeah, *uh*—*burp*—guess so,” he managed, his brain still scrambling to reboot. His hands hovered awkwardly near your shoulders, torn between hauling you up and shoving you back down. You solved the problem for him by rising smoothly to your feet, your fingers trailing up his thighs as you stood. Rick’s breath hitched.
“So,” you said, leaning into his space until your chest brushed his, “where were we?”
Rick's hands found your hips on instinct, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants like he was afraid you'd vanish into the multiverse if he didn't hold on tight enough. "Don't *burp* play dumb," he muttered, but there was no heat in it—just a rough-edged need that made your pulse jump. His thumb brushed the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up, calloused and warm. "You know *exactly* where we were."
You rocked forward, pressing him back against the workbench until the edge dug into his thighs. His breath hitched when your knee nudged between his legs again, the friction drawing a groan from his throat. "Yeah?" you murmured, biting at his jaw just hard enough to make him twitch. "Then why'd you stop?"
Rick's laugh was more of a strangled cough. "*Burp*—Morty," he gritted out, hips jerking forward when you dragged your teeth down his neck. "Fucking—*uh*—cockblocking little—"
You cut him off with a kiss, messy and insistent, your hands fisting in his stupid lab coat to drag him closer. Rick made a noise low in his throat, his tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to memorize the taste of you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp—and fuck, the sound went straight to his already straining cock.
The garage door lock hissed into place—Rick must’ve hit the remote in his pocket—and the sound of the deadbolt engaging was obscenely loud in the sudden quiet. You grinned against his mouth, fingers tightening in his greasy hair. "Paranoid?" you teased, nipping at his lower lip.
Rick’s hands slid under your shirt, palms scorching against the small of your back. "*Burp*—shut up," he muttered, but there was no bite to it, just a ragged urgency as he hauled you flush against him. His cock strained against his boxers, the damp spot from earlier smearing against your thigh. "You’re *fucking* distracting."
You rolled your hips slowly, relishing the way his breath stuttered. "That’s the point, genius." The workbench creaked under his weight as you pushed him back, your knee slotting between his thighs with practiced ease. Rick’s head thunked against a shelf, dislodging a jar of something neon-blue that he caught one-handed without looking and chucked over his shoulder. It shattered somewhere near the portal gun.
Rick’s fingers found the button of your pants, fumbling in a way that would’ve been embarrassing if he weren’t so busy kissing you like he was trying to *win* something. The zipper gave way under his rough tug, and then his hand was sliding down, knuckles brushing the damp fabric of your underwear. "*Burp*—fuck," he breathed against your mouth, his thumb circling just *there*, the pressure maddeningly light. "You’re *drenched*."
Rick’s fingers curled into the fabric of your underwear, his breath hot against your parted lips as he dragged the damp material aside. The first brush of his calloused fingertips against bare skin drew a shudder from you—one he felt in the way your hips jerked against his hand. “*Burp*—Christ,” he muttered, his voice rough as gravel. His thumb circled your clit with a lazy, teasing pressure that had your nails digging into his shoulders. “You’ve been—*uh*—thinking about this, huh?”
You bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, swallowing his groan as you rocked against his fingers. “Shut *up*,” you breathed, but the effect was ruined by the way your voice cracked when he slid two fingers into you without warning. Rick’s grin was all teeth, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises as he curled his fingers just *so*.
The garage dissolved into static—the hum of dormant machinery, the distant clatter of tools knocked to the floor, the slick sound of his fingers moving inside you—all of it blurred into white noise as your forehead dropped against his shoulder. Rick’s chuckle vibrated against your skin, smug and breathless. “*Burp*—that’s it,” he murmured, his thumb pressing firm circles against your clit as his fingers sped up. “Fuckin’ *perfect*.”
You gasped when his teeth grazed your collarbone, the sharp sting mingling with the relentless drag of his fingers. His lab coat rustled as you twisted a fist into it, hauling him closer until the edge of the workbench dug into your thighs. Rick’s breath hitched when you rolled your hips against his hand, chasing your own pleasure with a desperation that made his cock twitch against your leg.
Rick’s fingers crooked inside you with brutal precision, his thumb pressing harder against your clit until your thighs trembled. “That’s *burp*—that’s it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “Fuckin’ *take it*.” The workbench rattled as you ground down on his hand, your nails scraping down his chest hard enough to make him hiss—but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just fucked you faster with those rough, grease-stained fingers like he was trying to prove a point.
You came with a choked gasp, your back arching as pleasure crackled through your nerves like a live wire. Rick swallowed your moan with a messy kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as his fingers gentled, drawing out the aftershocks until you sagged against him, boneless and breathless. He pulled back just enough to smirk at you, his lips slick and swollen. “*Burp*—told you,” he murmured, wiping his fingers on his lab coat with deliberate slowness. “Fuckin’ *perfect*.”
You caught his wrist before he could retreat, dragging his fingers back to your mouth and licking them clean with a pointed glance. Rick’s pupils blew wide, his breath stuttering. “*Jesus*,” he muttered, his free hand tightening on your hip. “You’re *burp*—you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You grinned, shifting just enough to feel the hard line of his cock straining against your thigh. “Nah,” you breathed, nipping at his jaw. “Just getting started.” His groan was muffled against your neck as you palmed him through his boxers, his hips jerking into your touch. The fabric was damp with precum, the heat of him searing even through the thin cotton. Rick’s fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. “*Burp*—fuckin’ *tease*,” he growled, but his voice cracked when you finally freed him, your thumb swiping over the head of his cock in a slow, filthy circle.
Rick’s hips jerked forward with a choked groan when your fingers curled around him, his lab coat crumpling under your grip as you stroked him slow and deliberate. “*Burp*—fuck,” he gritted out, forehead dropping against your shoulder. His breath was ragged against your collarbone, his hands trembling where they gripped your waist—like he couldn’t decide whether to pull you closer or shove you onto your knees again.
You tightened your grip just to watch his eyelashes flutter, his cock hot and heavy in your palm. “Still *impressive*, Sanchez?” you murmured, dragging your thumb over the slick head of him. Rick’s laugh was more of a wheeze, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. “Shut the *burp* fuck up,” he muttered, but the effect was ruined by the way his voice cracked when you swirled your thumb just *there*.
The garage door rattled suddenly—Morty’s panicked voice muffled through the metal. “R-Rick, *uh*—the—the *thing* is *uh*—*on fire*—?”
Rick’s head snapped up, his expression caught between murderous and desperate. “*NOT NOW*, MORTY,” he bellowed, voice rough with frustration. Something clattered outside, followed by the sound of sneakers skidding on concrete as Morty fled.
Rick’s lab coat was halfway off his shoulders when you shoved him back against the workbench, his breath hot against your mouth as you kissed him hard enough to bruise. His hands scrambled at your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your pants like he was afraid you’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. The garage door lock hissed again—Rick must’ve double-checked it—and the sound was drowned out by the slick noise of his cock sliding against your thigh, wet with precum and the remnants of your spit.
“Fuckin’—*burp*—*hell*,” Rick gasped when you bit down on his lower lip, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His hands slid under your shirt, calloused palms scorching against your ribs as he hauled you closer. “You’re *gonna* kill me.”
You grinned against his mouth, rolling your hips just to watch his eyelashes flutter. “Dramatic,” you murmured, dragging your teeth down his jaw. Rick’s breath hitched when your hand slid between you, fingers curling around him again with deliberate slowness. His cock twitched in your grip, hot and heavy, and the groan that tore out of him was ragged at the edges.
Rick’s forehead dropped against yours, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as you stroked him. “*Burp*—fuck,” he muttered, fingers tightening on your waist. “You—*uh*—you’re gonna make me come like this, and I *swear to god*—”
Rick’s threat dissolved into a strangled groan as you twisted your wrist just right, your thumb smearing precum over the head of his cock in slow circles. His lab coat hung half-off one shoulder, the fabric crumpled between you like a casualty of war. “*Burp*—Christ,” he rasped, his forehead knocking against yours as his hips stuttered forward. “You—*uh*—you’re *fucking* evil.”
You laughed, low and throaty, your breath hot against his parted lips. “Says the guy who built a black hole that sings showtunes.” Your fingers tightened around him, dragging up his length with deliberate slowness. Rick’s groan was muffled against your neck, his teeth scraping your pulse point as his hands fumbled at your waistband. “*Burp*—shut *up*,” he muttered, yanking your pants down just enough to slide his hand between your thighs again. His fingers were slick and rough, circling your clit with none of his earlier teasing. “Just—*uh*—just *take it*.”
The workbench screeched as Rick hauled you onto it, your back hitting the cluttered surface with a clatter of scattered tools. His knee shoved between your legs, pinning you in place as his mouth crashed into yours—all teeth and tongue and the bitter tang of interdimensional whiskey. You arched into him, your nails raking down his spine hard enough to make him hiss. Rick’s hips jerked forward, his cock dragging against your inner thigh in a slick, maddening tease. “Fuckin’—*burp*—*tease*,” he growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he ground against you.
You hooked a leg around his waist, dragging him closer until the blunt head of his cock caught against your entrance. Rick froze, his breath ragged against your lips. “*Burp*—fuck,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “You—*uh*—you sure?”
Your fingers dug into Rick’s shoulders, nails biting crescents into his skin as you arched against him. “Jesus, *yes*,” you gasped, tilting your hips up to meet his. The friction was maddening—just the slick drag of him against you, not quite *there*, not yet—and it drew a ragged whine from your throat.
Rick’s breath hitched. His hands trembled where they gripped your thighs—uncharacteristically hesitant, like he was afraid you’d dissolve into quantum foam if he moved too fast. “*Burp*—fuckin’ *hell*,” he muttered, forehead dropping to yours as he rocked forward, slow and deliberate, until the head of his cock caught on your entrance again. The stretch burned in the best way, his hips stuttering as he fought to keep his rhythm steady.
You rolled your hips, taking him deeper with a sharp inhale. Rick’s groan was muffled against your collarbone, his teeth scraping your skin as he bottomed out. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved—just the ragged sync of your breathing, the sweat-slick press of skin against skin, the distant hum of the garage lights flickering overhead. Then Rick’s hands slid up your waist, calloused palms skimming your ribs as he pulled back almost all the way, only to snap his hips forward again with a rough grunt.
“*Fuck*,” you choked out, your legs tightening around him as he set a brutal pace, each thrust punching the air from your lungs. Rick’s mouth found yours again, messy and uncoordinated, his tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to memorize the taste of you. His lab coat rustled as you twisted a fist into it, hauling him closer until the workbench groaned under your combined weight.
Rick’s hips stuttered when your teeth sank into his shoulder, the sharp pain mingling with the dizzying friction of you clenching around him. “*Burp*—Christ,” he gasped, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. His thrusts grew uneven, ragged—like he was losing the battle to keep his usual sardonic control. The workbench rattled beneath you, scattered tools clattering to the floor in a discordant symphony.
You arched against him, your nails raking down his sweat-slick back. “*Fuck*—Rick—*god*—” His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, and Rick’s breath hitched. He’d had entire civilizations worship him, but none of them had ever sounded like *this*—raw and wrecked and *his*.
His rhythm faltered when you rolled your hips to meet his, your inner muscles fluttering around him. Rick’s forehead dropped to yours, his lab coat hanging off one shoulder like a tattered flag. “*Burp*—gonna—*uh*—gonna fucking *come*,” he warned, voice cracking. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you moan. “You—*fuck*—you better be close.”
You bit down on his lower lip in answer, your thighs trembling around his waist. Rick’s groan vibrated against your mouth as his hips snapped forward one final time, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled with a ragged curse. The sensation tipped you over the edge—pleasure crackling through your nerves like a live wire, your back arching off the workbench as you came with a choked gasp.
Rick collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the workbench as his breath came in ragged bursts against your neck. His fingers twitched against your ribs, clumsy and warm, before he managed to prop himself up on one elbow. His lab coat was a lost cause—crumpled, sweat-damp, and half-shoved down his arms—but the way he looked at you made your pulse stutter.
"*Burp*—fuck," he muttered, his voice rough as gravel. His thumb brushed your lower lip, catching the bite mark he'd left there. "You—*uh*—you good?"
You grinned up at him, still breathless, and hooked a leg around his waist to keep him close. "Better question—was *that* impressive enough for you, Sanchez?"
Rick's laugh was more of a wheeze, his forehead dropping to yours. "*Burp*—shut up," he mumbled, but the way his fingers traced your hipbone betrayed him. He was *smug*.
Rick’s fingers trailed lazy patterns down your ribs, the callouses catching on your skin in a way that made you shiver. The garage smelled like ozone and sweat, the overhead lights flickering as if even they couldn’t handle the aftermath. You stretched beneath him, savoring the dull ache between your thighs, and Rick’s grip tightened reflexively—like he thought you’d float away if he didn’t hold on.
“*Burp*—don’t *move*,” he muttered, his breath warm against your collarbone. His hair was a disaster, sticking up in every direction, and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through it just to watch his eyelashes flutter. “*Fuck*,” he hissed, catching your wrist and pinning it to the workbench with surprising gentleness. “You’re *annoying*.”
You grinned, rolling your hips just to feel him twitch inside you. Rick’s groan was muffled against your shoulder, his teeth scraping your skin. “*Burp*—Christ, *stop*,” he gritted out, but his hips jerked forward anyway, his cock still half-hard. “I’m *old*, you little *shit*.”
“Liar,” you breathed, nipping at his jaw. His stubble scratched your lips, the taste of him—salt and cheap whiskey—lingering on your tongue. Rick’s laugh was rough, his thumb brushing your hipbone like he was mapping the contours of you.
Rick’s fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp as he rolled off you with a grunt. His lab coat was a lost cause—crumpled under your hips, soaked with sweat and something suspiciously green leaking from a shattered vial near your elbow. He didn’t seem to care, flopping onto his back beside you with a wheeze that turned into a belch halfway through.
WARNINGS: Introductory short chapter. Toxicology involved, graphic depictions of death by poisoning, suspense at the end, criminal activity, depictions of poisoning symptoms.
Summary: El Diablo has found a problem. Nothing a problem solver like himself can fix, right?
Chapter 1: Business Meets Personal
Nueva York, his kingdom, came alive as soon as the sun died on the horizon. Lighting dreams and crowded streets with that unceasing and lively buzz, that announced the continuity of the never ending night life.
The faint honks and screens announcements through Madison Square crowded his sight, distracting him momentarily from a modern-looking building his eyes had been staring at for the past minutes.
A faint wisp of vanilla and tobacco vanished in the cool air, leaving a tinge of sweetness in his already tart tongue.
“So…”
El Diablo placed the cuban cigar in between his plump lips and took a long drag, savoring it. The smoke burned his lungs with a familiar heat, barely matching the anger simmering underneath his calm facade.
Bad news were never welcomed in his presence. In fact, he despised them. Especially when said things arrived unannounced and unplanned to retaliate, and much to his apparent bad luck streak, the same information met his ears yet again.
Another cargo shipment, missing, and some of his men found in daunting conditions.
The pictures forensics provided were everything but what his mind needed, as they often came back to haunt him in the least expected of times.
The ecstatic and borderline blissful look were the most prominent trait in his men’s photos. Looking at the ceiling, as though heaven called and awaited right before them.
And if honest, Miguel didn’t know what unsettled him the most. If the lack of expected but nonexistent gore, or that stoked appearance that became regular in the evidence his insiders in forensics sent him. He knew his men and kept them as happy as he could. But never with this sort of joy.
Sure, he indulged his subordinates' whims from time to time to keep the morale active and soaring, but this, his brain could only translate it as a pattern. Something that took him a considerable amount of productive members of his organization to realize.
A mistake that now cost him the little calm his lifestyle provided.
A little too late he noticed the dryness in the victim’s eyes and mouth. Dry as a rock, that if he wanted to, he could crumble them into fine dust. Their flushed skin, red as a beet. Their pupils wide and their lower bellies full as a drum.
“How many they’ve found this time?” The question had been reformulated a couple of times during the span of four months. Going from ‘who did this’ to ‘how many’. But the effect it left in him was always the same. Absolute powerlessness and an anger that could boil hot, if not hotter than hell.
Because, no matter how many forensics paraded before him with thousands of pictures, none of them offered the real answer. Just clues that led him nowhere, with his cargo still missing and an upcoming headache not even the strongest of whiskeys could tame.
And missed cargo meant lost money and resources. His credibility became teetering among those in the same position of power as him. And although his men didn’t question him, sometimes their skeptical gestures as he spoke of catching the bastard hunting them, spoke for themselves.
Miguel knew it was a matter of time that his reputation as the King and Soul reaper of Nueva York fell apart.
“Three.” Said the fearful man behind him, unlucky enough to be selected as the scapegoat for today’s debrief. “All the same as the others.”
But as long as there was none fool enough to try and usurp that crown away, he’d make sure to find the culprit, and teach them why only he was capable of carrying it.
“Exactly the same?” El Diablo turned and the man behind him nodded while swallowing a gulp. His trembling hand pulled a small sachet from his blazer’s inner pocket.
Maybe an important offering, or not. His boss was unpredictable like that when it came to things that pulled him to the uneasy and worried side of the story.
Miguel’s eyes followed his subordinate’s motions as he offered the only valuable piece of information he might've come across in a long while. All packed in a coke-dose sized bag.
“Miss Drew found this in one of our agent’s upper gums.” explained the man, while his eyes struggled to meet him for more than two seconds. “Apparently there was more in his stomach.”
Miguel pulled a handkerchief from his pockets and took the satchet, seizing its insides with clinic and undivided attention. Unmistakably it was a berry, or part of what used to be one; half chewed, black and shiny.
A single quirk of El Diablo’s brow urged the man to speak further.
“And… one of them survived, sir.”
And his red eyes gleamed. Finally, one of his men that knew the true meaning of loyalty would put him in the right direction to end this targeted hunting, once and for all.
“Tell Ben to get the car ready.”
The man wasted no time and disappeared from his presence as soon as the king turned his back on him.
Miguel’s lips pursed in a thin smile, and gave his cigar a last inhale before crushing and throwing it at the void underneath him. The smoke escaped through the tiny gaps of his teeth, surrounding his head in a fragrant smog. Like a demon awaiting for his playground to be ready.
“Showtime.”
Hospitals sure held the last position in his list of places he wanted to be at the moment. Not only were they his least favorite of hideouts, but the humanity constantly lacking in the crowded halls, only reaffirmed his decision to target some of the board members inside.
Security knew better than to attempt and pull an heroic show for the rest. As soon as they saw him, their eyes became blind. They looked everywhere but in his direction as he made his way through the stairs, since elevators were always crowded.
His mind thought about the several questions he had for his employee. That if he was conscious and lucid enough to answer them.
The designated room soon appeared around a corner he turned, and the sterile stench nearly suffocated him as soon as he crossed the threshold. The door closed with a soft click behind him, making the bedridden man move his head towards the door.
And an icy chill ran down Miguel’s spine upon seeing the man’s irises completely dark.
His pupils had devoured any trace of color in it, giving him this possessed and void sort of gaze.
“Boss?” Whispered the man as his eyes searched for him in the entrance but found nothing but a hulking and blurry shape approaching. That was enough answer for him.
The machine beside him beeped, counting the irregular heartbeats and fluctuating with numbers Miguel could only make out as danger.
El Diablo sat before him, but the man wasn’t afraid. In fact, the machine registered the decrease of beatings for a couple seconds.
“I’m—” The man coughed, and Miguel’s head tilted, examining his body.
Flushed skin, blown eyes, dry mouth and swollen belly. The man hadn’t much left, he knew. And still, he stayed, observing the last moments of his collaborator with impersonal wonder.
The morbid in him had assimilated the wrongness of just watching this man's ongoing passing before him, right after Jessica’s results readings. But the analytical curiosity on his other side wanted to witness up close how these deaths occurred. He wanted to see what caused his men to look so blissed out as they left this world.
“What happened, Allen?”
“C…Club.” he sputtered in restless sighs after a minute of struggle with his tongue. “I… celebrated with others.” A difficult gulp made him groan. The machine beeped faster and Miguel’s brows pinched together. “This… —man…” He slurred.
“A man? A woman?” El Diablo pressed but all his employee could do was to gasp and grab the collar of his own robe, pulling from it as though the thing would choke him to death despite hanging loose around his neck.
The room filled with slurred syllables and soon unintelligible sobs joined the more Allen stared at him, or rather the monstrous silhouette his troubled mind created, sitting right beside him, with two burning red dots as eyes.
Blind as a bat.
Miguel thought as the man kept shaking his head, and gasping for air like his lungs were ripped apart from the inside. What had him stepping in, was Allen’s flailing arms trying to reach for him.
Miguel grabbed his hand with a grip so strong it momentarily stilled the raving man.
“N…Night…—” His ears perked. “Nightshade!” Allen groaned as his free hand slammed against his chest, trying to knock some air into whatever was left from his malfunctioning organs.
Miguel shook with him, trying to calm Allen’s panicking rage. But little could be done as the machine’s beeping skyrocketed in a matter of seconds. Shooting his readings from normal, to critical without warning.
“C’mon, Allen! Stay” Miguel held tighter but the man sobbed as no air filled him. His boiling hands delivered a couple of smacks and slaps on his boss’ head, trying to escape. “Who is Nightshade?!”
The name alone caused the man to stare at the ceiling, while his dry mouth mumbled it over and over. The machine’s beeping slowed, as Allen’s cardiac rate was nothing but a rollercoaster. Going from critical, to deathly, to decreasing in such a span of time Miguel barely had the chance to get a proper answer.
But what could he truly do, when the man was condemned from the very beginning? He was poisoned, and so were the rest of his men. Him making an act of presence was nothing but an excuse to confirm this wicked hypothesis.
The beeping stopped altogether. Echoing in a deafening and monotone key. And so did Allen, whose face stared right at him, or past him, he didn’t know for sure. But there it was. Heaven had called his subordinate, and like the obedient man he had been, Allen attended the call.
Miguel’s eyes stared at the long gone man, hoping that there would be a last symptom manifesting in his corpse, but there was nothing but an empty death. And before the nurses could rush in, he turned his phone’s lamp on and passed it before Allen’s eyes, mouth and hands.
The toxin had worked as expected. Twelve to fifteen hours later, just as Jessica’s apprentice had told him.
Poisoned.
His men were all poisoned by the same treatment over the span of four, almost five months. But now, vague as it was, he had a name.
Nightshade.
With careful hands, Miguel untangled himself from Allen’s grip and left the room, letting the medical staff deal with the mess behind.
His fingers searched Jessica’s name on his contacts, typed a brief message and pressed send.
[Miguel 2:44 p.m.]
Allen died.
Call me when you get his body. We need to talk.
His steps echoed faster as he descended through the stairs, dodging whatever person coming in his way. His long strides made him reach quicker to the door, only to collide in a sharp dodge against a masked nurse.
His hands quickly grabbed her, preventing her from falling entirely.
Some people stared at the commotion, others at the unusual placement of his hands, as they secured the woman by her neck and torso while her clipboard fell on the floor with an unnecessarily loud rattle.
Shit.
Her pulse quickened when he pulled her upwards, with such ease the nurse’s eyes just stared both in awe and discomfit at the choice of places his hands held onto. And of course, the force exerting in each muscle tensing under the sumptuous fabric.
“Disculpe.” His hands picked up the clipboard and handed it back to the woman.
Before the nurse could even thank him or someone else bumped into him, Miguel darted towards the door, leaving the place once and for all.
The king had been deep in thought enough to ignore the raring stare the masked nurse regarded him with.
A satisfied smile crept under her mask. Her fingers thrummed and clutched at the clipboard, right where his touch had been, absorbing the faint heat those gorgeous fingers had left behind.
I'm only saying this for your sake, but objectively, it's not a smart idea to bring politics into normal hobbies. You might lose supporters of your blog just because of your political stance, and that would be terrible since you're so amazing!! It's only a suggestion, but I really reccomend not bringing politics into anything.
People who don't see what's wrong with him are retarded. Idc if you get offended by that. What's he's doing, what ice is doing is completely wrong. WAKE UP
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-
Does anyone have anything saved from Squirmhoney/ Asaharasylum I'm becoming crazy like, nothing on int archive wtf just one master list and no links saved.
WHY DID SHE DISAPPEAR. I loveddddd her writing! I'm sobbing fr.
Alpha Shark Man x Gender Neutral Omega Reader
(CW: Dubcon, a/b/o, omega reader, DILF, size difference, shark man, merman, biting, marking, claiming, heat cycles, breeding, kidnapping, force fed reader, reader is briefly shocked by an electric fence, general yandere behavior)
Word Count: 4.7k
(18 minutes into March and already a fic is posted! This was written as a birthday gift for a friend, happy birthday, you know who you are, my longest friendship and trusted confidant. I hope you all enjoy this. Also I tagged this as a merman because I think it qualifies, even without a fish tail a person who is part fish counts. I will die on this hill.)
Does anyone know what happened to @ Asharasasylum? I see some tell me an old fic I looked for a while ago was hers. But she has deleted it. But made another account. Now it's gone as well? 🫠🥹
when your husband’s secretary acts just a little too friendly around him.
FEATURING: office worker! nanami kento x wife! reader
CONTENTS: 18+ content, mdni. semi-public sex, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, fingering, use of pet names (sweetheart & my love)
WORD COUNT: 1k+
AUTHOR’S NOTE: so ik nanami might b too professional for this but 🤫🤫
"you need an appointment to see mr. nanami."
the receptionist spoke in a bored tone, barely looking up from her computer to give you a once-over. all the while she rolled her eyes and obnoxiously smacked her gum, like you were the one wasting her time.
but before you even had the chance to answer, the office door creaked open. "and i thought i mentioned that she could come in without needing one," nanami spoke up, appearing beside her desk.
the receptionist straightened up and busied herself with 'stacking' a couple papers on her desk. fluttering her lashes when she did look up at him, leaning forward just the slightest bit. "sorry, sir. you've just been soo busy and you did mention you didn't want anyone to bother you."
you honestly couldn't blame her, though. not when your husband had walked out of his office without his suit jacket on—the sleeves of his blue button down pushed up and showing off his watch. and well, the most important thing, his wedding ring. which she was blatantly trying to disregard.
"i'm aware. but you should know that doesn't apply to my wife, she's welcome to enter whenever she pleases," you could practically see her jaw clench as soon as he called you his wife, "please don't have me repeat myself. again."
"yes, sir. it won't happen again."
what she'd promised last time.
you stepped foot into the office, ceiling to floor windows decorating the space behind his desk. your heels clacked against the pristine floors, walking over to one of the wooden chairs.
"i brought you some lunch. saw that you forgot your bento at home and i wasn't sure if you brought any money to buy lunch," you spoke up, giving him a soft smile as you offered him the bento.
"thank you," he took the bento from you, setting aside, "but i think i'd like to have something different for lunch," kento cleared the space in front of him, patting on the wooden desk. a silent invitation. the skirt you had on rose up when you took a seat. the perfect offering if you'd ask nanami.
calloused hands ran down your legs, gently spreading them open. taking his time despite the thirty minute time constraint. "i'm sorry about her, by the way," nanami spoke up in a whisper, his lips pressing against your calf. "i don't know how much more obvious i need to be about being happily married."
his lips were reverent as he kissed up your leg, one of his hands holding the other in place. "like i'd ever want anyone but you, my love," he murmured, more so to himself, gently nibbling on your inner thigh. where only he'd be able to see them after. your legs spread apart almost instinctively, giving nanami the perfect view of the lace panties he adored so much.
and as much as he loved seeing you in them, the sight of you without them was much better. kento hooked one finger around the waistband, slowly removing them. sliding them inch by inch down your legs. "you didn't think we should hurry up, mr. nanami?" you questioned teasingly, pushing his hair back to take a look at his face.
"and why would we do that, mrs. nanami? i want to enjoy our time here," he pulled the underwear off, letting it fall to the floor. "well, you know you're sooo busy," you drawled, twirling a hair strand in between your fingers. he let out a small scoff, gently nipping at your leg in retaliation.
"never busy enough for you, you know that," nanami's voice came out muffled, licking a stripe up your cunt. he swirled his tongue around your clit before moving down, running the tip of his tongue down your folds. "never?" you mused, looking down at nanami. he wasn't paying that much attention to you anymore—rather, just your pussy.
"never," he muttered offhandedly, pushing a finger inside of you. your heels dug into his shoulder blades, your back arched when kento curled his fingers to hit your g-spot. and while it'd hurt at first—it was a pain that nanami was more than welcome to receive if it meant getting to lose himself in you.
your nails—paid for by yours truly—tugged on his hair, pulling him closer to your dripping cunt. kento clicked his tongue, looking up at you, "come on, use your words. tell me what you want and i'll give it to you."
"more, please," you responded almost immediately, your grip on his hair loosening up. just a bit. he replaced his tongue with two fingers, slowly getting past that initial resistance before pushing them in and out of you.
even with his glasses fogging up with every heavy breath that he took and your slick covering his mouth and chin, nanami continued to push his fingers inside of you. coaxing out all the pretty little noises you were making. "you can be a little louder, no? just a little bit, sweetheart," nanami curled his fingers, drawing out a whine from your lips.
you dripped onto his digits with each thrust, the golden wedding band on his finger glistening against the office lights. "k-ken, don't stop," your nails dug deeper into his hair, messing up the time he took fixing it this morning. you weren't even sure what was louder anymore—the squelching in between your legs or your moans.
your thighs clamped tightly around his head, holding him in place. "open them, darling. you can take it, you even asked me for more," kento felt the way your legs trembled—the way you were almost hesitant to open your legs again. you were close. "too much, too much," your moan had come out louder this time—loud enough to bleed through the walls.
not that it mattered.
you felt that familiar pressure build up in your lower tummy, your legs threatening to close again all the while your toes curled against the leather heels. too much, you'd said, and you still found yourself needing even more. "cum for me sweetheart, you can take it. take what's yours," his words served as a final push, your orgasm washing over you like a wave.
nanami pulled his dripping fingers out from your cunt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping them off. effortlessly, he wiped away the spit and slick dribbling down his chin before carelessly tossing the handkerchief to the side. like it was nothing more than just a bother.
your chest heaved as you leaned back against the desk, watching your husband stand up from his spot. a wet patch adorned the front of his khaki pants, his cock practically twitching against the confines of his boxers. "i think i'll just skip ahead to the main course."
needless to say, you didn't have any more trouble coming into nanami's office after that <3
Hii! First I want to say I LOVE your fics. They're amazing!!
I saw your requests were open and came up with one. How about a jealous Raphael? Maybe reader was training with Leo once because Raph was busy. And he came in the dojo to see them laughing and getting along well, with reader who fell and fell on top of Leo they were just laughing it off. But Raph geta angry and drags reader away to fight about it and maybe some make up smut???
Awwn thank you! Happy to read that!
Rate/Warnings: +18, jealousy, anger, happy ending (make up smut)
Jealousy had always been a shadow that clung to Raphael like a second skin. It was something he tried to keep buried, but in moments like this, it reared its ugly head. The dim lighting of the dojo cast long shadows across the room, flickering slightly with every movement. Raph had been preoccupied all day, leaving his brothers to their training while he handled his own matters. But something had been gnawing at him, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. It wasn’t until he wandered into the dojo that he realized why.
There you were, laughing—laughing—with Leonardo, the eldest brother. Sweat glistened on your brow, and the sound of your laughter echoed off the walls as you and Leo sparred. You had fallen, clearly tripped during your training session, landing squarely on top of him. For a moment, it was nothing but shared amusement, an easy, innocent moment between friends. But to Raphael, it felt like a dagger to the chest.
His blood boiled at the sight. The way you and Leo seemed so comfortable with each other, how naturally your body lay sprawled over his brother’s. The sight was too much. Without thinking, Raphael stormed into the room, his broad shoulders tense, and his face twisted into an expression that was far from friendly.
“Hey,” he growled, his voice low, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is goin’ on here?”
You scrambled off of Leo, confusion flashing in your eyes as you glanced between the two brothers. Leo, ever the calm and collected leader, simply raised an eyebrow, not yet catching onto what had set his hot-headed sibling off.
“We were just training, Raph,” you explained, brushing off the dust from your clothes. “You were busy, so Leo stepped in.”
“Training?” Raphael spat, his fists clenching at his sides. “Looked like somethin’ else to me.”
Before you could respond, Raphael grabbed your arm—not hard, but firm enough that it was clear he wasn’t asking. “We’re talkin’. Now.”
He dragged you out of the dojo without another word, Leo watching silently, his lips drawn into a thin line. The tension was thick as Raph pulled you into one of the side rooms, slamming the door behind him. The room was smaller, more intimate, and with each second, you could feel the heat radiating off of him.
“What the hell was that, huh?” Raphael snapped, his emerald eyes flashing with hurt beneath his anger. His breathing was ragged, his broad chest rising and falling quickly. “You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t care?”
You stepped back slightly, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “Raph, it was just training! Leo was just helping me out because you weren’t around.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t like the idea of you ‘n him gettin’ all buddy-buddy when I’m not lookin’,” he muttered, though now there was something softer in his tone. The edge of insecurity that he tried so desperately to hide.
“Raph…” You sighed, moving closer, your hand finding his. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not.”
He glared at the floor for a moment, jaw clenched tight, his large hand trembling slightly beneath yours. “I know, but… seeing you like that. With him. It just… it messed with my head.”
You could feel the heat of his jealousy simmering down, though the air between you was still charged. Your fingers slid up to his wrist, tracing the tense muscles there. "You don’t have to be jealous. You know I’m here for you, right?"
Raphael grunted, his body relaxing under your touch, but there was still an intense, lingering tension. Slowly, his eyes met yours, the fire in them shifting from anger to something else entirely. The air between you thickened, and you could feel his grip on your arm tighten, but this time, it wasn’t out of anger.
Without warning, he pulled you closer, his lips inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You think I’m lettin’ this go just like that?” His voice was a low rumble, full of heat and unresolved feelings.
And just like that, the conversation shifted, the jealousy morphing into something far more primal, something that needed release. In the heat of the moment, the frustration, the possessiveness—all of it—boiled over, and Raphael’s lips crashed into yours, full of a raw intensity that made your knees weak.
His hands were everywhere, pulling you close, desperate to remind you exactly who you belonged to. Every ounce of his jealousy poured into that kiss, a bruising, passionate clash of emotions as he pressed you against the wall, leaving no room for doubt about how much he wanted you.
And in that moment, as the world around you disappeared, you knew one thing for certain: no one could ever make you feel the way Raphael did.
"You're... mine.", he growled, sliding his hands down your thighs slowly. Very slow... The way it feels you couldn't describe, but your body can.
Tongues intertwining, hands exploring each other bodies, moans feeling the room. The red-clad huge turtle moves his waist foward, pressing his hardness agaist you. "It is not the en', honey."
I am desperate af. Help me find this one aegon fanfic pls. I've been looking for days.
It's about him and the protagonist being cousins, and obviously they're in a sort of toxic relationship. It's a modern au, where she is the daughter of Daemon and Laena and they visit aegon's house for the summer.
She was against the relationship for the longest time until aegon showed her that his own parents and daemon are also in an incestuous relationship. In secret.
I remember the ending that was that they supposedly broke it off but actually didn't. And when she was going to university she lied and went to his university instead.
