ringgg… ringgg… ringgg-

The way he talks alone is enough to get you off, honestly. Some of the things he says, the tone, the way he looks when he says it, drives you crazy. He swirls his fingers on the bud before he slaps your pussy – which makes you jolt. “Y-you do, only you, Satoru.” He hears you say his name and he stops to smile at you and you gulp.

“If you’re my girlfriend, you could get this treatment all the time, ya know?” Your eyes squeezed shut and moans leaving your lips when he slides his fingers in and outside of you. Your hips rocking against his fingers, uncontrollably. Feeling a slight curve at the same time as he grazes your clit, back arches, trying to catch more of his touch — to no avid. You sigh loudly before you speak.

“We…we can’t, okay?” Your eyes are rolling back yet you’re standing your ground. This was never supposed to be something serious, just casual, he assured you he wouldn’t catch feelings and here you both are. “We’re fri–friends, been friends too long.” You hear him unbuttoning his jeans and you attempt to escape, you knew no matter what … you wanted it, so what was the purpose of running?

You look down at the truffle of white hair that covers the base erected dick and you lay back completely. Staring at the pearly white pre-cum already leaking from him, you unconsciously lick your lips.

“Do you really think we can be just friends like this?” Tapping his heavy dick on your clit, you flinch. “I mean does this look like just friends to you? You want to be friends? You want to keep being friends, hm?” Now he’s just being mean, rubbing himself through your folds, slipping the tip in just enough that you grip the sheets before he takes it back out, laughing at your whines.

“Say it…” Bending down, he presses kisses up and down your neck, your back arching. “Say you’ll be my girlfriend, say that we aren’t just friends.” Gojo’s voice is cruel yet you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.

You open your mouth, ready to say no again, until he thrusts himself forward. “You’re so big.” No matter how many times you say it to him, he still does a snort. He doesn’t move for a while, letting you grow comfortable, rubbing at your hair.

“Look how well you’re taking me… fuck, you’re so pretty, c’mon look at how pretty you are.” He’s holding your chin, making sure you look directly into his eyes. “Such a pretty girl. My girl is so pretty, isn’t she?” You’re just nodding to everything he says, tears in your eyes — the pleasure overwhelming you.

“Do you feel that? You feel me…right here?” He presses down a bit, making you clamp down on his cock. Groaning, he takes your hand and puts it where his was, just so you can feel just how deep he is inside of you.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. Since you’re being stubborn, he slips out, hissing while he does so and he just stares at you. You were almost there and he just…took that from you. “What?” You ask, reaching to touch yourself, you needed to finish.

He reaches out to you and takes your hands into his own, “Tell me how badly you want it.. you know I’ll give you everything you want.”

“Toru…” you make your voice whiny and soft, wanting him badly to fill you back up. “I want it…I want you, please.”

“Damn it,” His cock is throbbing and standing upright, glossy due to the mixture of you both. He’s back on top of you. A loud gasp leaving your mouth the second he’s inside, you wrap your legs around his waist and he lies on your chest, kissing the space between your breasts.

Smiling to yourself at his affection actions, lifting his head, you kiss his ear and your lips begin sliding down to his jaw before you’re licking down his neck. “Feels good?” He’s quick to nod his head, pushing himself closer to you for more.

He’s next thrusts are slow, achingly slow and you can feel every inch of him. The embarrassing wetness sounds mixed with the bed squeaking, you put your hands over your face.

“Don’t hide from me.” He lifts up one of your legs and does a particularly deep push inside, your pussy clenching against him…practically begging him to stay, begging him to stay inside no matter what. “Feels so good…”

“Y-yeahhh, fuck…Keep fucking me.” Is all he needs to hear before he’s slamming inside, wetness spills on the sheet with every thrust, he wets his hand with spit and reaches down to spread your lips. More soft touches against your clit that makes you spasm. “I… I’m going to cum!” Trying to move his hand from your pussy, he pinched your clit before you can take his hands from your body.

His thrust gets sloppier and he’s sweating all over, you know he’s close because for once his eyes are squeezed shut for more than two minutes. Looking at his face makes you want to punish him, always so cocky. You flex your walls muscle and he falls over, putting his entire weight on you. For some reason you want him to crack, “Cum inside of me.”

You know his eyes are sparkling and it makes you smirk, kissing his neck again and tugging his hair. His thrusting is wilder and now has a purpose, no time for words, just to breed. You’re sneaky, saying those four magic words that always get him going.

Both of your breathing heavy, you put your tongue deep in his mouth; licking and sucking on his. Both of you so close and catching after that high, your nails digging deeply in his back and you were sure you’ll be leaving some pretty scars to remind him of this.

One last thrust up and he’s spilling inside of you at the same time that your eyes roll in the back of your head at the deep sensation of being filled. “Fuckkk.” The orgasm snapping out of you in an instant, both bodies trembling with the after effects. 

He doesn’t slip out of you, no longer hard but still satisfied with staying inside. He’s looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Let me show you that I’m worth your time.” He kisses every finger tip. “Let me be your boyfriend, pretty girl.” Then kisses your palm, placing your hand on his cheek.

You shiver, your eyes bright as you stared at him. He glances at your lips, tracing his thumb across the bottom one before he kisses you again, eager and desperately this time. You kiss back with the same intensity, eyelids fluttering closed.

“You really make it hard for me,” He says, breaking the kiss to caress your face softly. “You make it hard for me to not want to be with you, so let me be yours.”

There’s no reason to deny him this, your heart beating so fast, it wasn’t like you didn’t want it…just scared. Breakups were scary, especially if you were friends first. “Okay.” You kiss him again — his cheeks and then his lips. It was time for you to stop avoiding this and being so terrified when you truly wanted this.

“So you’ll be my girlfriend?” He asks, you never heard him so nervous, especially after the way he talked to you mere seconds ago. The juxtaposition of it made you want to both kiss him silly and choke him just a bit, instead you giggled.

A smile comes easy on you lips as you speak, “Yes, I will.” You give him a quick peck. “You better be the best boyfriend ever then.”

“You from here?”

Even through the tsunami of bodies swaying slowly from the hypnotic waves swimming from the speakers, you held his attention like a cherished memory. His shaded hazel stare pierced through your curves, afraid that if he looked away for just a second, someone would be in your face begging for your attention. But you kept the crowd surrounding you at bay, only the people you arrived with being allowed into your domain.

He got in with easy access—no struggle, no weird glances from your friends when he squeezed through— almost like you wanted him there.

“Nah,” you shook your head—midnight spirals woven through your many braids rocking in sync with your disagreement. “All girls college, ‘couple hours down south, Boo” Slithering, sneaky hands occupied by your waist almost had you tripping over your own words. Even with platform heels you couldn’t quite reach his towering shoulders resulting in him slightly bending over to hear you over the drunken crowd and ear splitting bass bouncing off of the walls.

He hummed, dark eyes roaming your soft features protruding through the fluorescent lights. You stared back through your full lashes, your gaze almost pulling him into a paralyzed state. You smelt sweet, like a fresh cherry pie with a vanilla finish. He’d wish you spoke more so he had a reason to emerge deeper into that aroma that swept him from his feet.

“South, huh? ‘Can hear the accent on you. What’s your name, pretty?”

His cologne was something dangerous, similar to a mermaid’s voice; once it had you, you were hooked and gone. A buzz cut dyed a deep twilight was his signature haircut, a tattoo that peeked through the ocean fuzz curved sinisterly above his pierced ear.

“⧼★⧽,” you purred into a grin, heart shaped lips spreading to reveal your teeth.

God, he was built. Now prior to even meeting him, you stalked his instagram. Safe to admit It was nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh. All of the speculations that you’ve made about him editing his muscles were thrown out of the window along with your morals.

His arms alone were an attraction ; hard muscle under soft skin, similar to a pillow stuffed with bricks. Thick veins wrapped around his arms like cords. His black shirt suffocated his torso, one wrong move you thought the fabric would give up and disintegrate on the spot.

“⧼★⧽,” he parrots softly. His thick tongue darted to the side of his lips that curved into a grin. He shrugged, “Has a ring to it. Rolls off the tongue. Sweet like candy, too”

The surrounding crowd was almost nonexistent, extras in your book that had no significance to the conclusion. You stepped closer, your gaze still holding him captive. “So..what brings you he—“

“—Look, I’m just going to keep it real with you, Connie,” His ear perked up at the call of his name, surprised that you even knew it without him mentioning it; thick eyebrows rose to his crisp, straight lineup. A red cup that he’d been babysitting since you’ve first noticed him finally touched his lips, his adams apple bobbing with each swallow of his poison.

Curved french tips toyed at his rock-hard abs that were bulging through the thin elastic. You were careful not to rake his navel piercing. Blinding jewels sparkled in the dim light as he nodded slowly to the music bleeding from the speakers.

“I heard ‘bout you Con, and to be completely transparent with you, I just want to fuck.”

He grinned at your boldness behind his cup, sharp canines flashing under the low light. “Heard ‘bout me how?”

“Jus’ some pillowtalkers.”

He hummed, nodding shyly into his cup. “‘S that how you know my name?”

You nodded with a grin. Soft fingertips raked his muscles.

“Yep.”

He hummed again. “My room or yours?”

“My room is two hours away, genius.”

“My room it is.”

Just how he weaved through the crowd, he got out the same way: quiet and light on his feet. On a mission.

Hunger fanned from his pink spit-soaked lips. Oh how Connie’s tongue worked wonders. If he wasn’t using it to talk shit then it was swirling around your puffed clit with his fingers curled softly into your velvet sponge. He worked hand-in-hand with his tongue piercing like it was his personal sidekick, forcing sounds from you that you’ve only heard during solo sessions. You could barely keep your heavy eyelids ajar, Connie’s face unrecognizable from the constant motion blur.

“Con—baby! Mmh!”

Your hands scatter desperately as you try not to flinch out of his addicting touch. French tips scratch at his scalp, tugging him deeper into your sopping cunt as you chase after your release. Your thick thighs hovered over your naked chest—pedicured toes bent and pointing toward where they see fit.

His knees engraved itself into the fluffiness of the carpet below. The necklace that shined so beautifully under the fluorescents and claimed all attention when in public, swung with every jerk of his head. His golden pendant rocked—advancing just enough to also get a taste of your dripping cunt.

“Thaaat’s it, Pretty girl. Open my shit up.”

You obeyed, thick thighs separating to see Connie becoming one with your pussy. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Siren eyes low and dilated, leaving the golden hue of his iris nonexistent.

His dark goatee was soaked in your fixed flow of arousal, dripping hesitantly like cold honey when he came up for a few seconds of air. Pedicured feet rested on each side of broad shoulders, his rough palms having to push your thighs back more so you’ll spread like a rumor.

“Focus on me, Pretty,” Connie purred, soft golden eyes glancing up at you through his full roll of lashes. Your hips rolled in circles, unsure if you wanted to run away from the pleasure or to soak deeper into it.

“Mmm! I’m goin’ to make a mess, I feel!” You whisper, voice cracking with desperation. You couldn’t look at him—even through your shaded eyesight, his gaze was intimidating.

A deep chuckle broke through your hyperventilating. “A mess, huh? ‘You one of them?”

You nodded shyly, swollen lips tucked behind your teeth.

Without missing a beat Connie pulled his lips from you, a thin string of his spit being connected to his chin. His hazel eyes were fully dilated, his pupal similar to an infinite void.

“Connie? W-what are you—“

Interrupted by a kiss that held you in a trance—your words were swallowed. You lingered on his tongue, your DNA seeping deeply between his tastebuds. “‘M goin’ to have fun with you,” he groaned. That cool metal bar that tore through his flexing tongue tickled the roof of your mouth. He moaned between your lips, your soft hands working the strings of his sweatpants.

“I want to see it, Connie.”

He grinned against your lips before slowly standing to his full height. “I got you.”

And right as he revealed his known secret, your jaw visibly grew slack.

“Big, ain’t it?”

Words are clogged in your throat like five o'clock traffic, all you could do was swallow to prepare yourself for the workout of a lifetime. Grey sweatpants dropped just below his twitching, thick thighs. His dick looked so heavy; the weight of his muscle incapable of holding its own against gravity. His balls alone were huge, capable of rebuilding the human race from scratch. You’ve noticed that they’re more melanated than the rest of his body while his shaft was a couple shades lighter and his tip tinted a light pink, giving the illusion of neapolitan ice cream.

“Wh— how is this even possible? It’s like the size of my head, Connie.”

A deep chuckle and a nonchalant shrug later, “‘M not even that hard yet. This is like…. fifty percent.”

Thick cord-like veins fenced his shaft, throbbing in sync with his sluggish heartbeat.

“So you just…walk around with this just swingin’?”

You were hesitant to touch him—well his weapon that stared a hole through you. It looked like it had a mind of its own; almost like it thought its own thoughts and moved at its own accord aside from its owner. You almost jumped out of your skin when Connie took a step forward.

“I mean, yeah. ‘Can’t leave it home, now can I?” His voice was now deeper. Slower. Hungrier. Now you were just playing on his time with your timid ways and he was growing impatient.

You were certain that his dick smelt the fear venting from your pores—growing centimeters each second to evolve into its final form. Still, the pure heaviness kept his tinted tip pointed towards hell. Ironic.

“I’m guessin’ this is how you know ‘bout me?”

You nodded, swallowing pending drool forming at your lips. “Yea. ‘S so much bigger in person.”

He hissed when your hands wrapped around his throbbing shaft. Its pure thickness prevented your fingertips from touching. “W-Which video did you see?”

“‘Was the video of the girl on all fours. Her hands were tied up with her panties I believe. I want that.”

A sinister grin flashed above you. “I got you.”

Biting pillows was never in your rotation of things to do at a strangers' dorm, especially ones that belong to a frat boy. Their unhygienic ways made your skin crawl. But after being informed that his roommate was home and in the next room, muffling your moans with the closest thing to you, felt like the smartest thing to do.

At the time that is. Connie had the brightest idea to dilate your moans with music. Failed miserably. If anything, it broadcasted you.

You somehow found yourself going vocal for vocal with Brent Faiyaz; he’d hit a high note, his beautiful voice straining the poor speakers on Connie’s phone, and you shot one right back seconds later from the result of Connie’s ruthless, calculated strokes.

“I’m workin’ your shit, baby. You feel me?”

The outdated pillow, that definitely saw better nights, was snatched from under you in a quickness, leaving you bare chested on his sheetless mattress. You weren’t even in the right headspace to cringe at the current situation. In any other equation, you would’ve wasted no time packing your belongings and driving back to your dorm in pure silence—high and dry with regret radiating from your skin, but it was almost like Connie held you in a trance. Working his body as if he had a point to prove. Nothing surrounding you seemed to matter. Not even his roommate.

“I feeeel you, Con!”

His pink tinted dick was already lathered in your cream, a wet, sticky echo of your bodies bouncing wall to wall in his cluttered room. His balls were heavy and swung with a purpose and precision, knocking against your puffed clit with each stroke. You tried so hard to swallow your moans—keeping them hidden behind the jumping springs of the mattress. You were successful until Connie’s fingers rolled tiny circles on your clit. You jumped, doe eyes slightly crossing at the sensation.

“Oh-oooh! I don’t want to be too lou-loud, Con. I’m gonna—” your begging knocked against deaf ears. His hips snapped harder and faster against yours, scooting you toward the headboard inch by inch. Since his dick was so heavy, his curve guaranteed pleasure with every plap!

“Let that shit out. Let me know I'm doin’ good, Baby.”

“O-oh my gosh,” you squeaked between slurring words, thick thighs buckling beneath your rocking weight. The loud applause from your ass clapping against his pelvis had you tucking your face in your elbow. Sweat rained down his flexing abs; the glimmer of his bellybutton piercing adding that extra shine.

You were certain his roommate heard everything that happened on the other side of the paper thin wall. Embarrassment claws at your bones before quickly being replaced with pleasure.

Jean was deep in slumber, warm webs of drool slowly seeping from the corner of his open lips and pooling onto his pillow. His snores were so ear piercingly loud that it'll make your eardrums bleed from rooms away. He slept flat on his stomach, left leg hiked up while both beefy arms hugged the plush, drool-soaked pillow providing extra comfort to his head.

It starts off quiet. Too quiet. Hushed high pitched giggles and occasional low smacking from the kisses bounced off the walls of the peeling paint that decorated Connie’s room. Brent Faiyaz played quietly on the speaker on the night stand. It was low enough to keep Jean at bay, so it wasn't an issue.

It became an issue when the rhythmic knocking of Connie’s headboard made its presence known. And poor Jean, still in a dream state, mistaken the knocks for someone banging at the front door.

"The door, Con," He incoherently slurred, voice deep and groggy. Tiredness lingered in his voice along with slight irritation. Who would the fuck would want something at this hour? Jean still had his eyes wide shut, drowsing in and out of consciousness. His voice was no louder than a mumble, but with the walls so thin, he's sure his roommate heard him.

Then he heard it, the unmistakable long feminine moan of his roommate's name.

"Y’so deep, Con!”

“‘Feel you through the rubber, Pretty. Soakin’ my shit, huh?”

“Mhmm!”

Once he heard that, he heard everything else; the slow and sensual music, the deep grunts and dirty talk, the high pitched whining, and how could he forget the headboard beatboxing against his wall. It was like pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together in his dazed mind.

Now, hours later, Jean laid motionless on his back, his left eye twitching in a type of anger that could only be expressed through violence. This was the third person Connie had over on a two day radius and the number is increasing by the day. He’s convinced that Connie purposely removed the pillow from his headboard to toy with his emotions.

It was working.

“‘M gonna’—gonna’ cum again, Connie!”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me, I know.”

Slouching back against your headboard, pillows and plushies support your back, while your boyfriend laid with his broad back to your chest. Ink. Rows and rows of dark ink decorating his tanned skin, all telling a different story of his outdated, complicated life. Bruises from his earlier mission painted his skin black and blue. Hard, heavy muscles twitch uncontrollably with each rake of your freshly painted fingernails.

He said he'd quit soon, but the abandoned half smoked cigarette sitting loudly on his pillow-like lips converted otherwise. The candle put up a good fight, but it had nothing compared to the grey smoke blanketing the entire ceiling in its stench.

"Squeeze a little, baby. At least act like you care ’bout your old man," He commands, hips shifting slightly to ease the discomfort that is housed in the pit of his vacuumed stomach. You tighten the grip around his thick cock, your fingertips incapable of colliding from his ungodly girth. Turning your wrist counterclockwise, one hand focused solely on his angry pink tip, while your other hand massages his full, heavy balls. Beads of translucent precum dribble towards your palm, coating your fingers in extra lubricants in appreciation.

Toji groans, body vibrating as he takes another drag from his smoke. His shuddering breaths took you both by surprise; heavy hips jumping toward the smoke coated ceiling, itching to grasp just a taste of more pleasure.

"Like that. Juuuust’ like that, d-don’t stop."

He took another hit of his worn out, spit-soaked cigarette to mask his deep moans but you already heard it. You felt it rattling beneath his tired joints. His toes start to arch in his socks as he felt himself getting closer to cumming.

“Watch that cigarette Toji,” you warned. He clearly lost his mind when he absentmindedly dropped the joint from his loose grip onto the silk sheets. He mumbled a quick apology and tucked the cigarette away into the nearby ashtray.

"Uugn fuck, baby- I'm so fuckin' close."

His weighted hips humped your palms, meeting the steady rhythm of your stroking. His calloused palms tugged harshly at the sheets as a last result to try and ground himself. He's almost there, he just needed a push, and you sensed it. Without missing a beat, your soft lips kissed and sucked behind his ear. His eyelids rapidly flickered before his forest eyes crossed and tucked out of view.

"You’ve been so goooood! Give it to me, Toji. Cum for me. I need it so bad," You purr in between kisses.

"O-oh shi—fuuuuuccckkkkk!"

Lengthy groans and curses left his mouth while long ropes of his hot cum shoot out, coating your hands and his lower stomach with his seed. Heavy balls twitch in your palm as they emptied. You continued to milk his orgasm causing his body to involuntarily jerk as overstimulation took over.

His hissed, rough palms finding your working wrist. "Sssss baby- mmmh! Wait!"

You stroked faster with the help of his cum acting as a natural lubricant. Abandoning his balls, both of your palms worked overtime along his shaft, hoping to get more out of him. He groaned loudly in his native language as his palms turned white from the grasp he had on your arm.

“I know you. You know you. You’re not done, Toji. Give me more.”

He was fully convinced he had none left in the chamber until he felt the familiar pleasurable feeling that was in the pit of his stomach.

"M'cummin’…Fuck, fuck," His voice was barely audible before it turned into full on desperate whispers.

Clear-ish liquid dribbled out of his tip before one, two, three shots of his cum decorate your hands once again. His beefy thighs twitched like never before, his hands forcefully removing your palms from his dick. You allowed him to catch his breath as you kissed along his sweaty face.

"You did so good, baby. M' proud of you."

“Mhm. You love doin’ that. ‘Can feel my soul slipping away every time you do it.”

“And you love it,” You giggle, licking his cum from between your fingers.

Before you could fully swallow his cum, he cupped your face, bringing to his for a sloppy kiss—wanting to taste himself from your lips.

"You're so nasty, Toji!"

"And you love it."

Fireworks decorated the night sky as distant popping and sizzling could be heard from the open window. 12:00 read back at you on the dresser.

"Happy New Year, my love!"

A multicolored vape accessorizes Shiu’s palm—bringing a flare of color to his dull lifestyle. Even though his wife prefers that he doesn’t smoke with them actively trying to conceive, there was a tiny window where he had his ‘five minutes of freedom’, as their therapist put it. Quitting cold turkey on a habit that’s been eating at him since high school could be as challenging as slowly cutting back day by day, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make sure growing a family was seamless.

Nevertheless, taking two steps forward and flying eleven steps back was a guarantee when you’re friends with someone like Toji Fushiguro. Awaiting lips pulled from the device, blowing clouds of grey smoke from his nose like an enraged bull. Broad shoulders slumped, weighted down heavily by anger and frustration.

“I give you simple—simple instructions, and you make sure to go out of your goddamn way to not follow them. ‘The fuck is wrong—”

“—Honey. Take it easy, please.” At his elbow sat his wife, growling anxious by the second. Straightened curls arched toward her sharp jaw and descended right above her tense shoulders. Waxed eyebrows carved towards her full lashes. “Remember what Dr. Kento said. Count to ten, hon.”

“Right.” He hissed, calloused fist clenching tightly on itself. ‘Remember what Dr. Kento said.’

“Ten, got it.”

Huffing down his second pull from his vape of the early morning, his finger tips squeezed tightly around his narrow, glasses decorated nose bridge. The heels of his freshly waxed leather loafers tapped rapidly against the warm concrete as his anger intensified. Toji is the reason why Shiu has been growing premature silver strains of hair since the ripe age of twenty-one. His arrogance and lack of respect has taken a toll over the years and it only gotten worse with age.

It’s like Toji got a kick out of pissing off his colleague or something.

Speaking of Toji, this fool sat back lazily against the lawn chair watching Shiu fight off the urge to turn into the Hulk—the prominent outline of his thick tongue becoming noticeable on his cheek. His signature black long sleeve hugged tightly against his torso, outlining the pulsating veins that snaked around his arms like an angry boa. Matching sweats, a size too small, hugged his waist, holding the weight of keys and the nonstop vibration of his out-of-date cell phone. Thinking quickly, he goes to scratch the stubble on his chin to mask his growing smirk before another lecture is broadcasted.

A shrug sits heavily on his broad shoulders before dropping them with no remorse.

“It was an accident, Shiu. I swear it.”

Toji speaking was like throwing water on a grease fire and he knew it. Quietness loomed over like a cloud as they sit in silence, staring.

“Toji, I think it’s best that you don’t—” a pleading call for Toji to shut the fuck and and read the room was interrupted by none other than an angrier Shiu.

“—Accident?”

Shiu’s jaw was on the verge of fracturing from how tightly he bit down on his own teeth. If vapes grew on trees, his smoke would’ve been balled up like paper in his tightening grip and aimed directly at Toji’s cranium. He would’ve kept picking off the vape-tree until the plant was bald and Toji had a vape-like dent engraved on his skull.

“This is every time—every goddamn time I lend you one of my cars!”

The group was assembled poolside, adjacent to the newlyweds' built in waterfall that pushed the lukewarm water from the hot tub into the empty pool. The sun drowned them in a beautiful golden hue, creating shadows of their hefty frames on the concrete.

Bouquets of flowers laid obediently in his wife’s garden, plump humming birds feeding on the positive effects of her green thumb. A place where often Shiu found peace was disrupted by a stupid single confession; the way Toji brought it to his attention, it was clear he had no intention of telling him—just leaving it a secret until he stumbled across it.

Toji knew that taking Shiu’s prized possessions from the garage and using it to impress his dates was going to end in a long night in the backseat. He had a way with his tongue that made women grow weak in the knees and cloudy in the head. Shiu should’ve known that lending his vehicle meant nothing pending troubles and wasted money.

It’s like every time Toji apologized, the dreadful hours of the many phone calls where they tallied up his total was a distant memory.

A dream.

A nightmare.

“Fuckin’ Hell. Five grand to get my interior fixed. Haven’t even driven it yet and I’m already making payments to reverse damage that I didn’t even do!”

Thin eyebrows meet in the middle as Toji’s head cocks in confusion. Five thousand?

“Five? ‘Swore It was like two grand last—” if looks could kill, Toji’s death would be instant—most likely painful if determined by Shiu.

“Shut the fuck up, Zenin. Seriously. Shut the fuck up. You have one more time before I—”

Before he was fully capable of blazing Toji’s ass to a crisp with empty threats, the low hum of his phone vibrating against his pant leg clogged his words in his throat; probably another additional thousand to his total. Turning his attention to his device he points a stern finger towards Toji, urging him to stay put.

“I’m not done. This is comin’ out of your checks. All of ‘em. Fuckin’ bullshit!”

Turning on his heel, the uncontrollable anger left with him, draining second by second until it was quiet aside from the calming sound of the pool shifting water around. For the many years Toji has been in Shiu’s presence, he’s never seen him this upset. Yea, he got pissed from time to time, but full on cussing at him was a new low that Toji never witnessed. It could be the noticeable absence of his familiar red pack of cigarettes that hid deep in his pockets or he’s officially had enough of his disrespectful behavior.

“You know Toji, aside from the dark cloud looming over our heads, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself last night. Although cars come and go, you know how he feels about them. They’re his babies and now that he’s not smoking, his cars are the only thing keeping him somewhat distracted.”

Toji actually listened when someone wasn’t barking his eardrums loose. Nodding, he gave another sigh, this time it carried regret.

“Yea I know. ‘Fucked up big time, didn’t I?”

“Big time.” Standing tall, black kitten heels further frame her toned legs—manicured fingers tugged at the dark skirt that bunched at her thighs.

“Toji, what even happened? I saw the pictures, ‘looks like a cat went wild with all of the nicks on the seats and the door looks to be missing patches of paint! I’m intrigued to say the least.”

“A cat huh? Well…”

“—Haah! Shit! Right there! Ohmygosh!”

If it wasn’t for the cramped interior of Shiu’s collective car, Toji would've found your sweet spot a long time ago. He knew sex was prohibited in Shiu’s vehicle, but the way your almond eyes pleaded with his fixed ones to fuck you senseless, it was hard to wait until he got back to your place.

“Fuuuuck me, Toji!” Peach stained coils acted as a barrier between you and the world, sheltering your face whole. Hoarse, pleasure-filled screeching bounced from the moisten, cloudy windows.

“I hear you, doll.”

A doll you were—the way you carried yourself was unreal. A type of respect that was hard to come by—something you had to dig deep for, you gave it away like it was candy. From the swirls that framed your freckled kissed face to your full lips that you lined and glossed every ten minutes, you were perfect.

Even your heels held him in a trance, adding height to you was a perfect way to further showcase your dangerous curves that he couldn’t wait to memorize. Watching you walk had became the highlight of his night: wide hips switching with your slow stride while the red bottoms of your expensive shoes took turns hitting the pavement.

“‘You goin’ to open the door or are you goin’ to stare at my ass all night?”

Lord have mercy.

You found yourself doggy—manicured fingers clawing desperately at cushions that kept you somewhat comfortable. Your puffy, tear stain cheek squished against the soft velvet of the seat, drool seeping from the cracks of your parted, glossed lips allowing soft gasps to escape each time his meaty thighs met yours. Almond eyes dazed and dilated, eyelids low—with your eyebrows resting in a confused expression. Beads of tears sat hazardously on your lash line, just patiently waiting on a sudden jolt to grant them freedom.

“C’mon, don’t hide from me. Look up. Look at me, baby.” Toji purred in your ear—something deep and groggy, while creating a future headache by tugging upright with a fist full of your disheveled curls.

He was so close, you smelt the tobacco, mint and pussy that lingered on his tongue. The sharp sting in the middle of your scalp was uncomfortable and unforgiving, but it got the point across. Your head was lifted from the pillow-like interior—drool acting as a bridge between you and the furniture. Pink, duck-flared nail tips dug into the soft material, littering crescent shaped patterns across the surface.

The loud creaking of the frayed vehicle almost fell mute to the overwhelming squelching of your soaked pussy. Toji’s thrust became more and more difficult to handle as the seconds ticked away. He didn’t even have the decency to fully take off his tailored suit—the low jingle of his belt buckle adding to the overstimulating and obnoxious amount of noise.

“You’ drenchin’ my shit, baby. It feels that good?”

Tilting your head in a way that made your neck ache, you faced him upside down, his grip on your chin making it impossible for you to fight his grasp. Toji looked so much more intimidating upside down, the low glow of the overhead light creating shadows on his face that made his sharp features more menacing.

His scar—the scar that often caught your attention when you drifted off in thought, rose when his emerald eyes locked with your tear filled ones. As much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, it all just became so overwhelming. He was maintaining all of your senses—from the encouraging, deepness of his voice vibrating your eardrums, to the lingering touches that made it seem as if he had two pairs of hands—he was everywhere.

Before you could fully respond with a broken sentence, you felt the suffocating sensation of his chest blanketing across your sweat glossed back. Being placed between a rock and a hard place wasn’t on your bucket list for tonight—truly none of this was, but you weren’t exactly opposed by the feeling.

"Ooo—It feels s’fuckin’ goood! Don't stopuhh!"

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it”

Stray hairs defied gravity from the harsh tugs of your date prior. Slumped shoulders with the weight of the world laying across it were littered in teeth marks and dark love bites. Your poor dress was nothing but thread from the countless rips and tears. Your reflection in the pitch black tinted windows held a portrait of a person you barely recognized.

He wore a smug grin against the side of your neck. Soft wet kisses peppering across your sweat laminated skin. “You’re s’pretty. Jus’ fucked out and beggin’ for more. Y’know that?”

“Mhhhhm!”

His bone white canines flashed from beside—if his teeth were any brighter, he’d completely light up the car.

"’You goin’ to cum on this dick? Mark your territory, hm?”

He took you as a joke, clearly. Tears to him meant he was doing exactly what he needed to be doing. That he was hitting every spot that made your soul crumble beneath him. He flashed his teeth again with a chuckle chasing closely behind.

“Speak.”

At that moment, your eyebrows matched the soft arch carved into your spine as you replied, "Yeaaaah!"

You sounded pathetic—mewling in a high pitched tone, slightly hoarse from the earlier throat fucking that occurred. Finding words was damn near impossible when he was knocking every coherent thought out of your brain.

"Yeaaaah?" He parrots, his voice mimicking your own. "Where ‘you feel me, doll? Let me know where I’m sittin’" The question was followed by a stinging smack to the side of your ass cheek.

"Ahh! Y-you're s’deep! In-in my stomach. . .Mmh!"

"Where I belong. You’re doin’ s’good. I hope you know. So proud of you, pretty."

With you lying flat on his seats, each shift of his hips had your eyes rolling deeper in your skull. Before you were even put in this position, breathing wasn’t an option when it was actively being fucked out of you, so with his full body weight on top of yours, you were privileged to even gasp.

“Toji m’close. Sososo close. Mmh!”

“I know it.”

He was hung and heavy, the thickness of his dick engraving itself from the inside out. Squelching from the weight of his balls slapping your swollen clit had thrown Toji off—his hips stuttering as he was unfolding with you.

"You're so fuckin’ good. My good fuckin’ girl. Let it go princess. Let me have it. Make a mess on it."

“OooToji!”

A gasped squeak erupted from your vocal cords as you quite literally came on demand. Your fingers braced around the now peeling material of the door handle. Your arousal dripped rhythmically from between your thighs—plapping softly against the soaked cushions. One of your legs shook significantly harder than the other, slightly vibrating the car underneath. You came so hard you didn't even notice Toji pumping his warm seed into you until his deep groan filled the already stuffy atmosphere.

“Fuuck me! Shit! S’good.”

He cussed your name between gritted teeth, slowly pumping in and out of you while he completely emptied inside of you. He regrouped himself minutes later—slipping out from your warm embrace, earning a disappointed moan to slip from your swollen lips. A menacing grin rose his scar before a sudden smack to your ass cheek had you mirroring his smirk.

“I definitely fucked up your seats, Toji. M’sorry.” As sincere as you were, or wanted to be, you couldn’t help but to feel no sympathy. As you saw it, it was simply a reward for pushing all the right buttons.

Clearly he thought the same thing.

“Don’t apologize for shit. Just lets me know I was doing my fuckin’ job. Now push it out, baby. Let taste see what we did."

You contracted the muscles in your stomach to push out the shared release. The warm goodness leaked out of your hole, sliding down to your clit before splattering on the destroyed seats.

"Mhm. There you go, pretty."

His wet tongue traced slowly around your enlarged clit up to your sopping hole, tracing his name to further seal the deal. He hummed at the combination of the juices, slurping it effectively out of you. You jolted gently under his muscle from still being sensitive to the touch. Holding the juices behind his teeth, he grabbed your face bringing you closer into a heated kiss. The cum that he held hostage in his mouth, dripped carelessly down your chin as you shared the most sloppiest kiss known to man. Teeth, tongue, and cum met in the middle, coating every inch of your mouth with the taste of both of you.

“Well? I’m sure something interesting happened. Tell me!”

“Nothin’ important.” He declared, grinning something scandalous.