Spot me right
A trainer who can't keep things professional anymore
cw : obsession, face sitting, cunnilingus, teasing, overstimulation, oral (female receiving), mature readers only, mdni.
It’s 11 p.m., and you’ve been in the gym for three hours straight, sweating through your clothes, dragging your ass from treadmill to dumbbells to machines you don’t even know the name of.
Honestly? Discipline was never your thing. Eating clean, counting macros, waking up at 5 a.m. to “grind”… fuck that. You’d rather rot in bed with takeout. The whole gym membership was just a box you ticked, something to throw your hard-earned money at and then ignore.
At least, until he showed up.
Toji Fushiguro. The new trainer.
The man is every bad decision wrapped in sweat-slick muscle. Wide chest stretching out that thin tank like it’s about to snap, veins crawling down his arms, hands rough and big enough to snap a barbell in half. And that voice — low, commanding, making every “c’mon, faster,” or “one more rep” sound like a filthy promise instead of an instruction.
Who the hell wouldn’t show up every day just to watch that?
You used to stumble in on weekends, half-ass a treadmill jog, and leave before you broke a sweat. Now you’re suddenly the model gym rat, clocking in every damn evening, dragging yourself through routines you barely understand, all because you can’t stop staring at him. Because that man is stupidly hot.
And yeah, you’re shameless about it. You’ve been pushing your luck, too. Tight shorts instead of leggings. Cropped tanks instead of loose tees. Bending slow when you pick up weights, arching your back just enough on the mats. You wanted his attention, wanted his eyes on you the way yours are glued to him.
Was that really so bad? How can anyone help themselves when the man in question is Toji fucking Fushiguro?
And he sees you. He’s seen you for weeks now, dragging your pretty little ass in here just to sweat under his gaze. He’s been telling himself to keep it professional — because it’s his job, because he’s supposed to ignore the way you suck on your water bottle like you’re teasing him, the way your shorts ride up until he can’t look without imagining what’s under. But fuck if you’re making it easy. Every curl, every squat, every sway of your hips feels like bait he’s seconds away from biting into.
**********
“Yeah, that’s it, good job, see you tomorrow,” Toji calls out, slapping his last client on the back as the poor bastard stumbles out of the gym, looking half-dead. Midnight in an empty gym. No one else dumb enough to be here this late. Well, except Toji Fushiguro, because he works like a machine… and you, because you’re a horny bitch who wants him in your bed.
You linger near his space like a moth to a flame. Wandering from treadmill to water filter, looping around with your bottle just to get closer, pretending you still had “sets” left. You even ended up in the bathroom twice from how much water you forced down, anything for another excuse to hover. But when you came back out and couldn’t see him, your stomach dropped.
Shit. Maybe he finally left.
Then a shadow stretches over you.
“What you doin’, doll?” Toji’s voice rumbles behind you, that lazy drawl curling around your spine.
You spin, caught, fumbling. “Uhmm… working out? This a gym, ain’t it?”
He chuckles, low and rough. “I asked what the fuck you doin’ here for four hours straight, doll.”
You swallow, shifting your weight, heat pooling in your stomach. “Oh, well… I do like to spend time looking after myself.”
“That so?” His eyes rake down your body, slow and heavy.
“Mmhmm.”
He smirks, licking his teeth. “Then come help me out.”
Your brain barely catches up before you hear yourself squeak, “Huh?”
“Follow me, doll.”
And of course you do. Like the good little puppy you’ve been this whole time, trotting after him without a single protest.
Who the fuck wouldn’t? It’s Toji.
He leads you to the bench press, sprawls back on it, thick arms stretching out, bar in his grip.
“Hold it for me,” he mutters, like it’s nothing. But when you step behind his head and bend down, crotch hovering close to his dark hair, you know damn well it’s not nothing. Your heart’s hammering, thighs trembling, because this is exactly the kind of chance you’ve been chasing like a starved bitch.
You grip the bar, help him lift a few reps. His muscles flex, his chest swells, sweat trickling down his temple. Then his eyes cut up at you, wicked.
“Doll,” he drawls, voice like gravel, “come forward a little. Your form’s off.”
You bite your lip, heat flooding between your legs, but you move. Just a step, enough that your thighs straddle his head. Enough that your pussy which is barely hidden by thin gym shorts is hovering inches above his face.
His smirk widens, eyes glinting as he exhales against you. Hot. Teasing. Fucking dangerous.
And in that second, you know exactly what this is turning into.
**********
You stand there, knees shaking, hands tight on the bar while Toji keeps pressing up and down like he’s actually focused on lifting. But then his head tilts back, his nose brushing against the curve of your cunt. Just a graze. Barely anything.
Still, the heat of him right there in your cunt makes your breath hitch. You don’t mean to, but the tiniest whimper escapes you.
Toji hears it. Of course he does.
His lips curl into a smirk, and then he does it again. Pushes the bar up, lets his face press a little harder against the soft stretch of your shorts, right where you’re already throbbing.
“Ah—” The sound slips out before you can bite it back.
Toji chuckles low. “What’s that, doll? Thought you were just helping me.” His voice drips mockery.
Your cheeks burn, but you try to play dumb. “N-nothing… just tired.”
He hums, like he doesn’t believe a word. And instead of calling you out, he leans in deliberately and drags his nose right up the seam of your shorts. The damp spot you didn’t even realize was there smears against him, and your knees nearly buckle.
“Toji—” you whisper, but he shushes you with a low growl.
“Mhm. Keep quiet. Don’t want anyone hearin’ you moan like a slut in here, do we?”
He repeats the motion, nose nudging, lips brushing and then his tongue flicks out, a single hot stripe through the thin fabric.
Your whole body jerks, a broken moan tearing out of you. “F-fuck—”
“Thought so,” he mutters, licking again, this time slower. He presses his tongue flat, drenching the fabric, dragging it from your entrance up to your clit. By the time he pulls back, your shorts are clinging to you, soaked.
“Fuckin’ sweet,” he groans, smirking up at you. “Now… tell me, doll. Why you been walkin’ circles around the gym for hours? Hm?”
You bite your lip, trembling, but try again to lie. “I… I just… like staying healthy.”
Wrong move. He hooks his tongue against your clit and sucks hard enough to make you cry out.
The truth slips before you can think. “Y-you, Toji—I just wanted you.”
“Good girl,” he rumbles, voice smug as hell. He grips your thighs with those huge hands, fingers digging into the flesh as he finally drags the fabric aside. No patience now, just your bare, swollen pussy bared above his face, soaking his mouth.
He doesn’t waste a second. His tongue slides through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring every bit. He licks up every drop, tongue curling against your clit before dipping lower, teasing your entrance, then pulling back just to hear you whine.
“Fuck, doll… sittin’ on my face like you were made for it,” he mutters against you, voice muffled by your cunt.
Your hips grind down without permission, chasing more, chasing friction. He groans when you do it, the vibration shooting straight through you.
“Keep ridin’ me,” Toji orders, licking a long, filthy stripe. “C’mon, doll. That’s it.”
And you do. You grind down shamelessly, rutting against his mouth, smearing yourself across his tongue. Every time he flicks your clit, you gasp. Every time he sucks, you keen, louder and louder. Your hands clutch the bar, knuckles white, while Toji devours you like he’s starving, slow enough to torture, but firm enough to keep you on edge.
When you whine his name again, all needy, he pulls back just enough to rasp, “What’s wrong, doll? Thought you liked takin’ care of yourself. Or was it all just to get my mouth right here?”
Your face burns, tears threatening your eyes, but your voice cracks open, desperate: “Y-yeah… Toji—wanted you—”
He laughs, low and dark, before sealing his mouth over your clit, sucking so hard your whole body jolts. His tongue rolls against it in slow circles, and your thighs squeeze around his head like a vice.
You don’t even notice when it tips over, when your body finally gives in. One second you’re grinding against his mouth, the next you’re coming so hard your thighs clamp around his head like a trap. Your back arches, a ragged cry ripping out of you as your pussy gushes against his tongue, soaking his mouth and his chin.
Toji doesn’t let up. He groans like he’s drunk on it, tongue flicking your clit faster, greedy, swallowing every drop you spill. You’re shaking, crying out, hips jerking helplessly and still he won’t stop.
Your hands fly down, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, tugging hard. “T-Toji—S'too much—” Your voice breaks, a half-sob, half-moan. “Please, s-stop—”
But he just pins your thighs tighter, keeps lapping at you, cruel and filthy. He drags his tongue slow over your slit, then flicks your clit in sharp bursts, making your legs spasm. You’re beyond words now, just stuttering gasps and broken whines.
It’s not until you’re twitching from overstimulation, your nails biting into his scalp, that he finally pulls back. His mouth is wet, glistening with you, and he wipes nothing away.
Toji sits up, casual as if he didn’t just lapped up your cunt. He grabs his towel, throws it over his shoulder, eyes glinting down at you, trembling on wobbly legs, shorts soaked, still leaking down your thighs.
“Same time, tomorrow?” he asks, voice rough, amused, like it’s the most normal question in the world.
You’re left slumped on the bench press, chest heaving, lips parted. It takes every ounce of strength just to nod, whispering out a breathless, “Y-yeah…”
And then he’s gone, walking off like he didn’t just make you lose your mind all over his face, leaving you pussy throbbing, already counting down to tomorrow.
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