「 can you keep my secret ？」

Now, Shiu Kong must have known what he was walking into.

He must have-

Or at least one would think—hell, Shiu himself had assumed so and mentally prepared himself for about fifteen minutes outside the barn house before walking inside to tell the two of you to keep it down (those sensitive horse hybrids were complaining!) But he had never expected- fuck. This was all that damned Kusakabe’s fault.

It’d been about two months since Fushiguro Toji was added to his farmyard roster. Ever since his supposed ‘best friend’ had gone and dumped the proud bull hybrid on Shiu’s otherwise idyllic farm. It was meant to be temporary - just a few days watching over him until Kusakabe returned from a Hybrid Farms Convention in Tokyo. Meant to be…

But he was bigger than the rest. Broader. Gruffer. With pierced ears and the sleekest black coat on his lower half. 

So Toji had drawn gazes - one of which being from you, his most prized cow hybrid, specifically.

And Shiu couldn’t have that.

Especially not given the fact that you were the sweetest, softest thing…oh, alright you were his favorite. A part of him almost expected that having a prime bull hybrid around so many unmated cow hybrids would be nothing but trouble. But he just didn’t expect Toji to go after his favorite- anyone but you.

Thus he’d spared no expense keeping the two of you apart. 

Yet in the end it hadn’t mattered how many padlocks (twenty, at the last count) or planks that Shiu had fastened on Toji’s separate enclosure—because a padlock is only as good as it’s locked. And only three days into Toji’s stay, he’d forgotten to lock that damned thing before leaving the farm on an errand- was about halfway out of town by the time that he’d remembered. 

And turned that truck around in the middle of the highway.

Of course, by the time that Shiu actually arrived at the farm and thrown those barn house doors open - much like he had done tonight - the two of you were already tangled up n’ mated. With you humming delightedly into Toji’s neck—bite marks down every inch of it. The creamy scent of pheromones wafting out of the barn house and saturating the farmyard air.

And Toji himself hadn’t spared you an ounce of mercy.

As teeth marks were indented all along your supple skin; especially ‘round each areola of yours which Toji pinched. Letting milk flood out of Shiu’s beloved cow hybrid. Looking straight at him.

Fuck.

Shiu remembers it as clear as day.

Did he mention that he was rock-fucking-hard then? He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that…

Because it only makes him think about how hard he was right now, too. 

He was staring at a vision that was quite similar: Toji was ramming into you like there was no tomorrow- so fast that he’s only seeing the blur of his angry cock and the smack-smack-smacking of skin-on-skin. Except this time you were on all fours.

So Shiu was given the perfect view of your pretty tail swishing from side-to-side. Only growing more agitated as Toji grows faster.

The farmer watches as Toji’s hand wraps around your tail and drags you backwards- so disrespectful. A few more bite marks. A few more shakes of your pretty thighs - he gets the sense that you’d be collapsing onto the floor if Toji wasn’t helping hold you up. And once again Shiu’s struck by just how pliable you are underneath the other man.

“C’mon now-” Toji grunts. “Giddy up. Almost there.”

You’re shaking even harder. Your skin was glistening with sweat. Your eyes dazedly drift towards the other man - and he knows by that glint in your eyes- he knows it. 

He knows that you’re about to cum.

And you’re throwing your head back with what he assumes to be a moan announcing your crescendo—“Shi- oh.”

Oh.

Were you about to…?

Oh fucking-

And Shiu considers himself an intellectual man - he really does. He’s usually quick with his quips and isn’t the most inerudite of the rowdy bunch down at the bars; but this…this leaves his brain blue-screening and his mouth hanging stupidly open. Almost in a mirror of yours.

He can only stand and watch - cock throbbing in his denim overalls - as you’re tremblin’ all between Toji’s harsh thrusts. The way he fucks you is rude—as if the sound of the other man’s name on your lips almost spurs him on further.

He had to remind you who your mate was, after all.

You’re growing limp once your wave of bliss is completely bated. And it’s with a deafening slurp! that Toji himself finishes.

Polishin’ off what Shiu assumes to be your sweetest inside with his long, clingy ropes of cum- so much so that he’s seeing a ring of white start to formulate around Toji’s length. Lucky fucker. Shiu’s mouth goes dry as Toji pins your hips to the hay-littered ground and fucks and fucks his cum into you ruthlessly.

After a few prolonged minutes, he finally sets your waist free and lets your body droop onto the floor completely.

And between pants, Toji manages to whisper- “What the fuck?” Though his keen senses had already picked up on the fact that the farmer had intruded on your little…rut session, it’s only now that Toji’s finally turning.

The veins on his neck popping and prominent. Eyes greener than the brightest field - narrowed. It was as if he was finally seeing the farmer as more than simple amusement or some guy to poke ‘round with his horns sometimes - a challenge.

Was it just Shiu or were Toji’s horns looking extra sharp tonight? 

“And remember that.” Shiu speaks with courage that he did not have—to hell with not biting the hand that feeds. Shiu might’ve been the farmer but he was less than a pigsty in Toji’s eyes. Or so he felt. “Next time your pretty girl cums, she’ll be saying my name.”

Toji doesn’t even pull out of you before he snipes- “Next time you say shit like that, they’ll carry you out in a wheelbarrow.”

“And replace me?” Shiu snorts. “You think she’d milk for anyone else?”

“Pig-”

You, pointedly, kept your mouth shut to avoid saying anything more inflammatory.

And you best believe that he’s stepping back from those barn house doors as soon as he could - what was that he said about considering himself an intellectual man? He’s letting the doors slam behind him and waiting for a moment outside until he hears the two of you start it up again—those horse hybrids and their beauty sleep be damned.

With that said, Shiu takes a deep breath and heads back to his farmhouse.

The time was 12:28AM and he spends the next hour rubbin’ his cock raw to the memory of you almost moaning his name.

.

.

.

“…What did you just say to me?” And something must’ve shown in Shiu’s tone, because his friend groans from the other end of the line—‘oh, c’mon man-’

And never in his life has he let out a louder sigh. Pointed, too.

Because here Shiu was carrying on his early morning duties - ensuring herd checks and watering some of the trees, just going into the barn house to do some milking - when he gets a phone call—and from who else? Kusakabe Atsuya himself.

Now, Shiu has long since gotten used to dreading Kusakabe’s phone calls. The man’s his best friend, but a phone call from him was never bound to end well - he’s the entire reason he has a massive bull hybrid mated with you in the first place. So needless to say it didn’t start off on the right foot. But then the words left his mouth—

“-Tokyo Hybrid Farm Convention-”

And Shiu almost ended the call then and there. 

But Kusakabe must’ve had an inkling. Because he yelped out a few pleas- “Wait wait wait wait- please, I promise you’re going to want to hear this.”

And Shiu had no choice but to groan and comply. At least hear the man out. “Alright, but you better be quick. The cow hybrids need to be milked before noon.”

“Oh please- you and I both know that you’re just impatient to see your ‘pretty girl’, yeah?” Kusakabe hurries before his best friend loses his patience. “Anyways—hear me out- there’s a Hybrid Farm Convention in Tokyo-”

“I’m not-”

“And this time it’s for the hybrids.” Kusakabe cuts him off. Then basks in Shiu’s stunned silence for a few seconds, “And I know I ended up dumping Toji on you for a few days…and eventually…permanently, but let me make it up to you by getting him a new hoof-trimming chute. And maybe while I’m there I can even get him fitted for a new bull ring.”

Shiu rubs his chin in thoughtfulness. “I have been meaning to get him a larger one…”

“Then it’s settled.” Kusakabe says gleefully. “I’ll get you the ring and take Toji off your hands for a day.”

“Can’t it be a few days?” Shiu grumbles.

“No way, man. He’s all yours- consider me the babysitter.” 

“Whatever- better than nothing.” 

“So I’ll pick him up in an hour or two, yeah?” Kusakabe affirms, and from the other end of the line Shiu can hear some shuffling. A truck door slamming. “I’ll have him back to you around midnight.”

“Take your time.”

And with just a few more words shared, Shiu’s ending the call. He stands at the door to the barn house in a way far too reminiscent of the night before—and from here he can see you nuzzlin’ up to Toji for warmth as the early morning sunlight creeps into your hay-scattered abode. It really was a heartwarming sight, the two of you - if only Toji wasn’t glaring at him as if he wanted to trample over him.

However, this time, Shiu was the one with the upper hand. “Guess what, hotshot?” He goads at the bull hybrid, and it works to make his ol’ golden nose ring huff. “You’re going to be going on a little field trip today.”

Toji scoffs and rests his chin on your head.

“Oh no- I’m afraid this one’s going to be a bachelor’s trip.” The most wicked smile twitches at his lips. He watches Toji’s brows furrow and his front legs start to kick at the ground as if about to charge. “You’ll be going to the Hybrid Farm Convention in Tokyo with your old pal Kusakabe, isn’t that exciting?”

The look on Toji’s face was ‘most certainly not’.

“Then we can replace that old-fashioned ring of yours with a new one. Make that ugly mug a little more handsome, hm?”

“My ass is more handsome than you.”

“Real mature.” Shiu shakes his head as Toji flips him off and struts away outside—his midnight-black hair gleams under the morning sun, and the muscles of his upper half are almost Herculean. Shiu follows your gaze to the bull hybrid. 

With a fond chuckle, the farmer then walks over to you and runs his fingers across your scalp. Reaching that one spot he knew you loved so much- scratching behind your hybrid ears. “I don’t know how you put up with him, pretty girlie.”

“He’s really not that bad once you get to know him.” You’re softly nuzzling into him.

Shiu shudders as he thinks back to last night. “Yeah, well I think I know him a little too- hey, are you feeling a little warm?”

“Hmmm?” Absent-mindedly you’re humming.

“I’m serious, girl.” Shiu’s brows furrow- and he’s taking his hand off of your scalp to feel the temperature on your forehead. “I think you’re a little warm.”

Eyes closed, you’re only pushing against him- yearning for his touch. And Shiu tries not to think about that too hard. “I was just in the sun, Shiu.”

“Yeah but…” Now that he thinks about it- you were particularly touchy today—almost needy. And he’s sure he wasn’t imagining the scent of soft sweet cream that lingered in the barn house today. Although that wouldn’t make sense - cow hybrids were prone to one heat cycle a month, for about a week give or take.

And you’d just finished your cycle two weeks ago…Shiu would know.

He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep those past few days. And as if that wasn’t bad enough- immediately after your heat, Toji’s rut had started up. 

The farmer turns his head and looks at the little homemade calendar hung up at the end of the barn. It contained all the dates of the hybrids’ heats and ruts and when he might expect them next—and not to brag, but it had a 97% accuracy rate. The 3% was when Toji wanted to piss him off and somehow manage to draw his rut out a little longer.

But according to that- you should be in the all-clear. He furrows his brows at the color-coded green zone. What can he say? Shiu Kong liked pretty things, okay?

Aforementioned Shiu Kong looks at you. “Maybe…hm, maybe it’s just a little fever, pretty girl. That brute must’ve worn you out.” You’re shyly bumping your shoulder into him, and he runs his hand across your body. “Now then I need you to get some rest, okay? Go sleep and I’ll bring over your breakfast- oh.” Just then, his hand dips up to the swell of your chest where your tits were. “And I’ll milk you tomorrow depending on how you’re feeling, does that sound good?”

Almost dazedly, you’re nodding with a smile. “Mmm s’good, Shiu.”

A thrill zips down his spine - he ignores it. “G-good. Go on now.” And right before he himself leaves the barn house, Shiu says. “And do try to convince Toji that it’d be good for him to get a new ring. The fool doesn’t realize the power he has in emptying Kusakabe’s pockets.”

Shiu gently closes the door to head back to his duties.

He flips Toji off behind his back.

.

.

.

At 12:21PM on the dot (Kusakabe said he’d be here half an hour ago) his best friend’s truck is parked in his vast farmland. And Shiu helps Toji into a hybrid trailer—he could have just gone in the passenger-side seat, but Shiu didn’t trust Toji one bit to not just open the door and jump out. Perhaps even outrun that truck at the first instance of missing you.

Honestly, he might just do the same with the trailer too…

But Shiu doesn’t tell Kusakabe this - instead he’s letting the man load his prized bull hybrid. And then clapping him on the shoulder, “Alright- he’s your problem now.”

“Just for today.” Kusakabe rolls his eyes. “A day longer and he might just drive the truck himself getting back to his mate.”

He whispers, “…I wouldn’t count on him not to do that today, either.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Shiu amends. Looking at the huffing n’ puffing Toji inside the trailer, arms crossed. “Just that he’s a romantic.”

“That he is.” Kusakabe tips his hat and waves himself off. “Alright- midnight, yeah?”

“Like I said- take your time.” He says, eagerly- perhaps a little too eagerly.

The other man gets into the truck and slams the door shut - the force causes that hunk of rusted metal to wobble and creak, like an old man’s laugh. Shiu gets the sense that the entire world seemed to be laughing at him at that moment—including his best friend. Was he really that obvious? 

Shiu walks up to Kusakabe’s window and leans against it. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

“Oh- nothing.” Kusakabe has the audacity to wipe off a mirthful tear. “Just that it reminds me of back then. Bet you’re really happy to have some alone time with your pretty girl, huh?”

“You say that like it’s been ages since Toji’s been here.” Shiu scoffs. “She’s known me longer- probably still likes me better too. You know she only lets me-”

“-milk her.” Kusakabe interrupts. Amusement on his features at the familiar words, “Yeah yeah. You’ve said it once before, man. Or maybe twice. Thrice. Fifteen times-”

“Whatever, man.”

Shiu kicks off the side of Kusakabe’s truck and gives it a customary slap on the bonnet. 

“Drive safe. Even if you get stranded this time, I’m not coming to pick you up.”

“What a friend.” Kusakabe starts pulling the truck ahead and calls out as he goes. “Take care of the pretty girl when her mate’s not around~”

“You know I will.”

And as he watches the truck pull away with Toji inside the trailer—the bull hybrid lets out a mournful sound. It’s as Shiu feels a soft head rest against him that he realizes you’d joined him in the farewell; longingly watching your mate be hauled off. 

“It’s just for the convention, pretty girl.” Shiu mutters to you. He reaches to scratch behind your hybrid ears but- the faint heat radiating off you makes him pause. “Is…it just me or has your fever gotten worse?”

“Mmm, dunno.” You murmur thickly. You push deeper against his body and Shiu’s suddenly hit with a lingering scent of dairy and fresh flowers, presumably from last night.

“If this gets any worse then we might have to pay a visit to Dr. Shoko…”

Fervently, you’re shaking your head. 

Although you liked the cool and composed otter hybrid, Dr. Shoko, actually visiting the doctor was another thing. And so Shiu let it slide - for now - as he advised you to stay out of the sunlight and get some more rest—he’ll bring some cool drinks over after he’s done tending to the horse hybrids’ hair.

Shiu watches as you totter off into the barn house once more.

He’ll have to keep a close eye on you…

.

.

.

3:18PM

The farmdog hybrids were particularly energetic today - Shiu spent just about two hours straight neglecting his tractor maintenance to throw frisbees with them. Ah, to hell with that old thing. Maybe next time he’ll accompany Kusakabe to those Tokyo conventions and see if they have discounts on tractors. 

Although he knows he shouldn’t have been so careless - but you can’t blame a farmer for letting loose! Especially not when - usually - whenever he did this sort of thing—it’d only end up with Fushiguro Toji trampling all over the frisbee for the sake of it.

Especially not when it’s exactly what got him to notice the state of you in the first place.

Shiu had thrown the frisbee too far. It had landed somewhere by the pond, and Shiu didn’t want Ino getting his coat all muddied again- so he told the canine hybrid to stay put as he himself trudged through all the vegetation and too-soft earth. Ah…remind him to unweed this mess sometime soon. Spike rushes stuck to his boots, and water lilies waded towards him as the farmer determinedly made his way to the frisbee. 

Just bending down to get it when-

Letting out softly—“Oh.”

When Shiu spots your curled-up self on the side of the pond bank—all cocooned amongst the lush vegetation like a little treasure just for him. He tries to shake that thought out of his mind.

You startle awake once he steps on a twig attempting to get nearer to the frisbee- “Easy there.” His deep tone soothes you. “Easy. Easy. It’s just me.” You’re following the voice and settling down once you recognize him. “What’re you doing here, pretty girl?” 

“Just resting.” You respond. Now that you were sure there wasn’t any danger, you’re settling back down into your comfortable position. “The water helps keep me cool, y’know?”

“That pesky fever’s still bothering you?” Shiu reaches down to measure the temperature on your forehead - and sure as day, he’s feeling the heat simmering. If he wasn’t mistaken—it was just a tad hotter than what he remembered it to be when saying goodbye to Toji. “Hm…it doesn’t seem to be getting better on its own. How about a visit to Shoko’s?”

“Shiu…” You whine.

“Now now, missy.” He tuts. “I need you to be healthy- not only would Toji kill me otherwise, but I wouldn’t forgive myself either.”

“I’m feeling fine…really. It’s just a little hot.” You insist. “Today’s been really hot- I promise m’gonna feel better once the sun goes down.”

“Hmmm. Alright.” Though Shiu still didn’t seem all that convinced. “But you won’t cool off with water just by looking at it.” 

“What do you-”

But those words are getting stuffed back into your throat once Shiu takes a little run-up and throws himself into the pond. Creating a resounding splash! and sending a wave of water into the air—like translucent sun-glittered frogs that take a soaring leap and land on you. 

You’re yelping as the cool water lands on you- “Shiu—! You little-”

And then jumping in after him.

He throws his head back and lets out a deep, joyous laugh. And if he smelled the soft fragrance of honey suckle and fresh cream…then he imagines some of the other cow hybrids are ready for milking again.

.

.

.

6:21PM

Shiu wasn’t celebrating—honestly.

Even he wasn’t that tactless.

It’s just that it was a little quiet without Fushiguro Toji around to cause trouble with the other hybrids, or with any guests, or with Shiu…or with practically anyone that wasn’t you. He wondered whether you realized the sheer extent of his special treatment. Which was why he decided to spoil the lot of you - especially you - today.

And for this Shiu’s apples were amongst the most famed in these parts - he hears they went for thousands of yen each in Tokyo. Lush and luxurious. Like biting into a piece of heaven—he knew that the hybrids were particularly covetous of this rare luxury. And luckily for him, they’d just been harvested today. 

So why not give you lot a little treat?

Those stingy middle-men would be here to load up the apples tomorrow morning; so before that he herded his hybrids to the picturesque orchard. Where the apple trees embraced the groves from either side, the tops of their branches nearly winding into the sunset-painted clouds and pulled them back, and beneath them lay crates upon crates of apples like treasure pots at the ends of rainbows. Those apples seemed to gleam even brighter as the sun dipped beneath the horizon; gilded. 

And Shiu kept his hands on his hips, a proud smile on his face, as he watched over the hybrids picking apples and digging through crates. All except for…

“Where’s…”

Brows furrowed- Shiu turns around and spots you slumped against the wooden entrance to the orchard. Those towering pillars were intertwined with vines, and amongst them you looked like the prettiest rose. 

“Something wrong, my girl?” He walks towards you, handsome features pinched in concern. Immediately, Shiu’s hand goes up to feel your temperature once more. “Fuck-” And almost as soon as it makes contact with your forehead, he’s pulling away—

“Shiu…”

“You’re burning up- pretty girl, why didn’t you tell me that it’d become this bad?” He hisses. And then he’s reaching down to gently clasp your hand. Those caramel-brown eyes of his are just so soft…“C’mon- lets get you to Shoko’s before she’s off—”

Yet oh-so-stubbornly you’re shaking your head. “Promise m’okay, Shiu.”

“But-”

“It’s not a fever.” And the hairs on his body stand on end at those words. If not a fever, could this be…“I think it must be the heat or something- that and Toji did wear me out a little last night.”

His jaw clenches. “I’m sure. But I still think it would be good to go for a check-up.”

You’re averting your gaze from his. “I’m alright. Trust me.”

And though Shiu was clearly displeased by this turn of events—how could he ever say no to his favorite girl? It was almost embarrassing how easily he’s bending to your will- and letting out a sigh he attempts to make sound annoyed rather than fond. “Oh, alright…but at least try one of the apples. I’m sure they’d be good for you.”

“Of course-” Then you take a step - and the faint dizziness that’d accompanied your fever makes you nearly fall into Shiu’s chest. Thankfully the farmer catches you easily with his scarred palms darting to your waist, his broad arms wrapping around your body- and the tips of his fingers graze where your tail starts.

And both of your breaths hitch-

“Hey boss- can we dig into the pears too or are those off limits?” Ino’s blissfully oblivious tone shatters whatever strange atmosphere had seemed to concentrate between you two.

And you both jump backwards as if electrocuted.

“The uh- the what-” Shiu whirls around at the farm dog hybrid, “Not a chance. Don’t even think about touching those.”

“…Oops.”

“Those are ¥5000 a pear-” He pinches his nosebridge and groans- as his most trusted dog hybrid scampers off with an armful of pears. As he does so, Ino’s dropping one on the grass that Shiu’s bending down to pick up. Wiping off the non-existent dust on his denim overall, Shiu pulls a pocket knife out and cuts a clean slice of pear in mere seconds.

Calm and controlled.

Somehow, just seeing how competent he was with it made something at the pit of your stomach- twinge.

Before you know it, Shiu’s holding the tempting slice out to you. “Eat.” When you look at him in hesitation, he chuckles handsomely. “They’re about to raid the pears anyway, so you might as well eat.”

And so you do - he watches every minute expression of yours as you bite into it. That glimmer in your eyes. That smile.

Fuck…

Chomping on the luxurious fruit, you’re soon raising your nose into the air and sniffing.

Shiu raises a brow, “Something wrong? It’s not rotten, is it?”

You shake your head and continue sniffing. “No, it’s just…” Your ears twitch towards him- and he finds it so cute how they move almost all on their own. “Something smells good.”

“The pear?” 

“No.” Shaking your head once more—the way you look at him then is just…different. “Like apples. And caramel. And honeysuckle.”

Shiu scratches behind his neck. “Well, I don’t know about the caramel- but we are in an apple orchard.” Gesturing at the sprawling land. “Help yourself.”

You smile and rub yourself against him lightly, soon joining your friends.

This was proving to be quite the strange day- fuck, were you getting hotter?

.

.

.

11:59PM

“I should have taken you to Shoko’s in the morning—”

This is all Shiu’s fault.

This is all Shiu’s fault.

But to understand just how badly he’d messed up, one would have to rewind the clock to about two minutes and twenty seconds ago; it’d been a long day at the farm. Exhaustibly so. Even more so than usual, Shiu was dead-tired—it was practically subconscious the way in which he’d scrubbed himself clean and slipped into his favorite pair of pajamas (the ones with the cows and barns on them). 

And he’d just - just - sat himself down on the creaky sofa in front of the TV, to get in at least five minutes of his favorite cheesy soap operas before he zonked out before it…when the front door started rattling.

Wait…rattling?

Knocking.

Shiu sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he heaved himself to a stand- “Yeah, yeah m’coming…don’t break the damn door down.” He’d at least expected Kusakabe to give him a call before he returned and started trying to leave him doorless- but ah. 

Shiu was grumbling a few choice words underneath his breath as he swung the front door and screen open. Only to be met with—

“Pretty girl?” In split-seconds, every ounce of sleepiness leaves Shiu as he darts to hold your faintish body. Your head was drooped, and your breaths were coming out rapid. You were supported by only some of the other cow hybrids. Immediately his hand is flying to your waist, and he’s throwing one of your arms around his shoulders- before giving up on any inhibitions and pulling you into a proper princess carry.

A worried Ino and the others trailed after. “The cow hybrids let me know that there was something wrong, boss. So I brought her here.”

“Good thinking. Thank you.” Shiu just barely has the thought to murmur. He hurries to sprawl you out across where you would be most comfortable: his bed. “We need to contact Dr. Shoko immediately.”

“It’s not her time of heat yet, right?” Ino asks from the doorway. Behind him were some of the other members of the barn house looking in concern.

“No.” Shiu shakes his head. He glances up and sees the commotion- “It might be a fever, or maybe it was too hot out? I don’t know—fuck, I should’ve just taken her in the morning when she first told me.”

“Should I get the truck ready now, boss?”

“Sure. But I don’t want to move her much right now- poor thing.” Shiu looks on sadly at the way you’re gripping his soft pillows and smushing them to your face—breathing them in. “I’ll call Shoko and see if there’s anything we can do from here-” Reaching over to his bedside cabinet and picking up the phone, “You guys get some sleep, and I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“You’ve got it.” Ino nods- and then he’s herding the rest of the barn outside. 

In this little bubble of his bedroom, this little nook of the farm which smelled like fresh cream and honeysuckle, and had the air of sluggish mornings that made one’s eyes droop; it was just you and Shiu and the ringing tone of Shoko’s clinic.

Ringing once.

Ringing twice.

It cuts and Shiu’s trying Shoko’s personal number this time. She picks up almost instantly- “Hello?”

“I’m not going to ask about the integrity of your sleep schedule, but I need your help-”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

And as Shiu lists off your symptoms - the clamminess, the rapid heartbeat, the puffs of pheromones now filling up his bedroom, and more importantly…the wetness between your thighs (he wasn’t a lecher- he promises, it just-so-happened that Dr. Shoko had asked him to double check as part of your symptoms) - he himself starts to get an understanding of your diagnosis. You were in heat. But-

“But wasn’t her heat just two weeks ago?” There’s a shuffling of papers on the other end of the line as Shiu realizes Shoko must’ve gone through your file at home. “And she isn’t known for having any irregular heats.”

“Could this possibly be triggered by something external?” Shiu asks.

“It is possible.” She answers. “Have there been any changes to her environment? Something that may trigger a stress response in her?”

“Well, just today I had Toji go out with my friend to a convention- could it possibly be the distance?” He suddenly feels a drop of guilt at possibly being connected to why you feel this way.

“Hmm, I don’t believe so. Mating bonds are of the nature to be most volatile in close distances, rather than when they’re apart.” She hums thoughtfully. “You said that her mate was away today, right? And this started just today? Have there been any…other changes?”

Shiu raises a brow. “Other?”

And he can’t see her, but he gets the feeling that had they been in her office- then Shoko would have her fingers crossed and a grave expression on her face. “Yes. Has she been close with any other hybrid on the farm? Perhaps nuzzling up to them? Perhaps giving off her scent?”

The tips of Shiu’s fingers, clutching the phone, feel utterly numb. “…Yes.” Him.

“Well then. I believe the matter is quite simple, Mr. Shiu.” Tell him. “It is a strange phenomenon in which the hybrid seems to have two mates.”

“…” He can’t quite seem to close his mouth. “What?”

“Precisely.” Shoko speaks as if merely commenting on the nice weather or a particularly good football goal.

“B-but—” Shiu clutches the phone and tries to keep his volume from rising so as not to awaken you - you’d fallen asleep wrapped in his sheets now. Nose stuffed into the fabrics coated with his natural musk. “I thought hybrids mated for life? With only one-”

“Most often, yes. But there are rare cases in which a hybrid might find themselves connected to two others, or even three. Sometimes these connections may be latent and only make themselves known when triggered by a heat or time apart from her original mate.” His jaw just keeps dropping. “And it seems that in your cow hybrid’s case, in the absence of one mate she found her second mate’s connection activated. This is likely what caused her to go into heat.”

“So it’s official-” He begs. “She’s in heat now-”

“Yes, and I suggest you just let her do what needs to be done with her second mate in order to get it out of her system, otherwise she may feel rejected.”

And it seems that the conversation was coming to a close- for there was a note of epiphany in her words. But before Shoko could end the call, he questions once more. “And about the…double mate thing- does that also mean that the second mate is mated to the original mate?”

There’s a pause.

“Well, I suppose that’s up to you, Mr. Shiu.”

Wait how did she—

And then she ends the call.

Shiu holds numbly onto the phone for a few seconds - the silence felt deafening. Before a sudden stirring makes him dart his eyes over towards you. 

Like an angel.

Your face was half-pushed into one of Shiu’s pillows - also patterned with cows and barns - and that blanket of his had twisted ‘round your body like a snake now—clammy with your sweat. Your fingers were clawing at the old creaky mattress, and your knees were pushing higher, and between them were- oh.

Were another one of his pillows.

And fuck- he’s never felt more jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life.

You were reeling your hips back—thrusting them forwards again- grinding down on the pillow. Wetness was seeping between those pretty, shiverin’ legs of yours and staining the cover. From here he could see a dark splotch starting to stain the silken fabric - smelling like the sweetest honey scent.

And it makes his mouth water.

“Baby- baby…” Shiu lovingly pats your leg, dawning you completely awake. He could see now that you were in the throes of your heat - but those eyes of yours were completely alert. “I need you to get comfortable, okay? This is gonna last about a week.”

“I’m in heat?” You blink. “Dr. Shoko said you’re my mate, Shiu.”

“So you heard that, huh?” He lightly chuckles. “Just know that we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. Heats don’t necessarily affect humans-”

“Then why’re you so hard?” Though that tone of yours was utterly innocent - the look in your eyes wasn’t. You knew what you were doing to him—and you’re only hiking up the temperature between the two of you as you’re leaning in. 

On wobbly arms, you’re pushing yourself up n’ leaning in so close-

Oh, how he’s dreamed of this exact scenario so many nights before. In this very bed. With his hand wrapped around his cock.

And Shiu knows he’s talking out of his ass - it’s the inhibitions taking over now…“You’ve got me there- but what about Toji-”

“Isn’t he your mate, too?”

And then your lips are on his.

.

.

.

Fushiguro Toji feels a disturbance in the force.

He can’t quite explain it- it’s nothing that he’s seen or even something that he’s felt. Nothing tangible to give reason to this madness. It’s just that something was…off. Kusakabe notices the hybrid squirming in his seat - yes, it seems that he trusted the bull hybrid enough to let him ride shotgun - and turns on the radio.

Just Toji’s luck, it was Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustra.

“Turn it off.” Toji scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Why? Remind you of a certain someone~?” Kusakabe asks in-between singing at the top of his lungs.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

And even though Toji is merely looking at the smaller man- he shrinks into his seat. Did he mention he’d sharpened his horns for today? Kusakabe whimper, “O-oh nothing…nothing, just that ah- the lyrics might be a little reminiscent of ah-”

And Toji was even more infuriated because of that nagging sensation- that strange…fuck. “Spit it out.”

Kusakabe lets out a squeal and looks as though he utterly regretted letting the hybrid sit next to him. “J-just the fact that Shiu mayormaynothaveacrushonyourmate—” It’s out before Toji could even register it. “Pleasedon’tkillme-”

“If I kill you who’s driving?” Toji had now unbuckled his seatbelt despite Kusakabe’s protests. Snooping around the truck and trying to trace that little- scent? “What is that infernal- fuck. And I already know that farmer’s got a thing for her - though I’d pay for him to actually try. Would love to see his face as she rejects him.”

“Really? Because she was looking all cute and cuddly and a little feverish this morning.”

“What.”

And then it hits him—that scent. Fresh cream and sunny days and honey-

You were in heat.

“Fucker, step on it.”

Kusakabe whirls towards him. “What-” But before he can finish, Toji’s grabbing onto the steering wheel and damn-near crashing them on the highway as he speeds ahead.

The radio trills: ‘I can’t believe he’s so trustin’.

While I’m right behind you thrusting.’

.

.

.

“Mmm—” Shiu’s lips are hot and persistent- letting off the most sensual mwahs! as he continues the pattern down the side of your neck.

Listen, Shiu Kong might not be a hybrid like you, but if he kept his nose pressed against your sultry skin then he could almost feel it—those pheromones. 

It was wafting off your skin like an atmosphere that was entirely your own, a gravitational pull constantly tugging him closer; the sweetened scent of honey and freshly-whipped cream. It made him blush. It went straight down to his cock.

Fuck that- it was taking over him.

A guttural groan rips out of Shiu’s chest- he kisses a pathway down the middle of your body until he’s reaching your core. Once he does, he gives the hottest wettest kiss of all to your cunt—“Oh, baby. Lean back a bit f’me, yeah?”

And then he’s pressing an open palm on top of your stomach. Pressing you to recline on the bed.

“Good girl.” Shiu rumbles. Low. “Now squeeze those pretty legs around my head- yeah, just like that. Tighter.”

“Tighter than that n’ you’ll suffocate.” You gasp.

“What about it?”

Using his own strong arms - so fucking beefy from years of work at the farm - Shiu wraps your thighs around his sweaty head. His sharp, straight hair tickles your inner thighs; so much so that the farmer has to tell you to settle down. “Easy there- eeeeasy there, girlie. I’ll make you feel good during your heat.”

“I’m not a damn horse.” You huff.

“Yeah, because you’re gonna be the one riding, huh?”

The gasp that flutters its way up to your throat doesn’t get the chance to escape- because the question on Shiu’s tongue curls around your cunt. He’s letting the squashy end of his tongue dip between your swollen pussylips—giving you a loooong lick where you were most tender. Those cushiony tastebuds of his were massaging you already- and the way he’s twisting his tongue so deliciously as he enters—

“Oh.” You’re arching off the mattress, thighs plastering to the side of his face. And yet your pussy’s openin’ up for him so invitingly. “Keep going, Shiu…”

“Had no plans of stopping soon.” Gurgling wetly between your legs.

His tongue was just so soft and smooth.

The way he’s adjusting it in and out makes your mouth just water. In and out. In and out. Shiu notices that every time he hooked his tongue around the outer rim of your entrance made your pheromones surge. Fuck—that heat of yours was affecting him, too, and leaving him sippin’ on your pussy like an aphrodisiac.

Lavish lips plastering aaaaall over again and again- “Mmmm, my pretty cow hybrid. No idea how I lasted this long without this.” Breathing through his nose - he didn’t want to waste a single second of this. His usually-deep timbre shakes with pleading desire. “And what can this do?”

You’re squealing once you feel thick fingers curl around your tail. “That’s my tail…”

“I already know that, pretty girl.” Shiu shakes his head fondly - as though you’d been the one to say something ridiculous. And in-between lapping away at your leaking pussy, he tugs softly on your tail in order to bring you closer. “But what can it do-”

“Well she likes getting it pulled during doggy position.” 

Both of you would have recognized that voice amongst a thousand bull hybrids - ten thousand. That stature. That scent of freshly-cut grass and something deeper…something more alluring.

“And sometimes if you bite it she starts clenching like crazy.” 

Fuck.

Because neither of you had heard the door click open - except maybe in what felt like a distant dream. Something worlds away.

You’re feeling a sense of déjà vu. 

Shiu’s feeling cold sweat breaking out as he realizes that he hadn’t actually locked the door. In fact. 

Whoever had opened it must be gripping it so hard that its oak frame was starting to splinter-

Both of you experience a pang at the pit of your stomach- a draw. And Shiu gapes as he looks down at himself—what the fuck was that…? He’s looking up at Fushiguro Toji standing in the doorframe with the same shocked expression.

“The hell do you think you’re doing with my girl?” Toji spits, scarred lips twisted.

“Listen, man-”

“You’re not going to make her cum eating her out like that.”

“I…what?”

Toji manages to make Shiu shut up. This must surely be a dream? And it’s just about enough time for the other man to cross the distance between the door and the bed - kicking it shut behind him - and make himself quite at home on the bed. The mattress creaks under the weight of the hybrid; and you yourself are letting out a soft moan. 

He sits beside where you were sprawled-out, facing Shiu.

“You see…my pretty girl here-”

Shiu mutters underneath this breath. “Fuckin’ stealing my pet name too, now?”

But Toji has the courtesy to ignore it - for now. “-has a certain set of rules she needs to follow.” 

At this, the other man’s brows raise in interest. Satisfied at the attention; Toji himself traces his dominant right hand over your stomach, your hips, before lowering down to your cunt and holding those puffy pussylips of yours open. Pushing them apart. Pryin’ them apart. 

Both men gulp at the way you’re clenching around nothing.

“See…she might look all innocent and sweet- but she’s a proper little slut.” The words almost make Shiu flinch - and the bull hybrid takes great care repeating them. “Your…pretty girl is a proper- little- slut. And I know that she likes being fucked like one.”

And before either of you can make a move - Toji’s swiftly craning his head down and spitting a great glob of saliva on your cunt.

It trickles over your exterior and smears along your inner thighs- and Toji takes his sweet, sweet relish in swipin’ off some of that excess and popping it into his mouth. “So?” Toji asks. “Eat her out.”

Eat…Toji’s own mate out? Like this?

“What?” Toji has the audacity to look shocked. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing her- don’t act like you haven’t been fantasizing it. You’ve wanted her even before I arrived at this damn farm.”

Shiu’s lips tremble- he almost wants to because hell, he’s been given the permission now. And yet…“Is this some sort of trick? You’re not gonna use those horns on me afterward, are you?”

“No, not at all.” The other man replies - almost too breezily. He raises his brows at Shiu expectantly. And stares deep into Shiu’s eyes as he says. “So? The fuck are you waiting for-”

Those mere words make Shiu’s cock stand painfully erect.

However, there’s a reason they claimed that Fushiguro Toji was a ruthless man. 

Because humans always did move far too slowly for the bull hybrid’s liking. And he wastes not a second more before pawin’ at the back of Shiu’s sweaty scalp - taking just a moment to bask in the utter shock upon his features - and shoving—

Straight between your pretty, pretty thighs.

Which he honestly didn’t have to do because—well fuck, you didn’t have to ask Shiu twice to eat you out. Shiu lets out a strangled grunt that turns into a moan. 

And without further ado, he’s back latched onto your pussy- those handsome cheeks of his hollowing out as he sucks n’ sucks. And you don’t know whether he was doing this for you or himself. 

Shiu ate you out like he was going to die of thirst if he didn’t.

“Fuck-” He hisses. With every movement of his face, he nuzzles himself closer. “Fuck fuck fuck—more.”

Syrupy breath sticking against your pussylips. 

And his tongue was even worse-

“My pretty girl. More.”

He’s slithering it aaaaaaaall along your outer cunt - lapping up every wad of slick you were gifting him - and then rubbing his textured tastebuds along your exterior when it just wasn’t enough. Because your cunt was practically an aphrodisiac for him.

It’s as if the heat was contagious.

Because the longer he’s spending between those gorgeous legs of yours - the more he’s blabbering like a damn fool. The murkier his eyes are growing. The harder and harder his hips are coming crashing—! down on the rickety wooden frame of the bed—pathetically dry-humping it in time with the thrashes of his tongue. Slipping right between your velvety folds and yearnin’ to taste the honey between.

That thick silkiness of his tongue was just dizzying.

He was cleaning up the mess that Toji’d made earlier—tasting him, tasting you. Shiu’s face grows warm as he remembers.

That dextrous tip of his tongue delves between your pussylips - entering that cute hole - and is lapping up everything you’re giving him. “Babydoll, fuck my mouth even deeper.” Needing more. “Even deeper.”

“F-fuck- shit, shit shit.” You’re trilling out. “You’re practically nose-deep. How can you possibly go any deeper?”

With a needy whimper, you’re letting your hybrid tail swish towards him - and without further ado Shiu takes it and wraps his fist around it. Giving a gentle tug. Fuck.

And when he actually discovers that he’s able to manhandle you further onto his mouth with that tail of yours- nothing’s stopping Shiu from increasing his strength to give you a mean haul. “Mmm- yes- oh, Shiu. It feels so good, Shiu—!”

“But not good enough, right?” Toji speaks over you, in a haughty tone.

Your hybrid ears twitch in confusion.

And before you know it, you’re feeling the sensation of Shiu’s slithering tongue disappear. 

You whine out in disappointment. And you already know that that mate of yours must have something to do with it-

Sure as day; Toji has his fist gripping Shiu’s jet-black hair and reeling him back. The other man obviously had his face twisted into something ferocious, and the tension made the atmosphere pinch. But underneath that…there was an undercurrent of sweetness…the mottling of Toji’s gleeful pheromones mixing with his lustful ones.

And Shiu’s, too.

And if you weren’t mistaken- was that a faint blush on the tips of his ears?

It seems that Toji notices, too. “See anything to blush about here?” Then his eyes dip down to you. “Oh…right. Heh.” Leaning in oh-so-closely to the other man; Toji whispers in a gravelly tone into his ear. “But if you stand around blushing and bein’ a wuss for too long, then just know that she’s not gonna wait. She’s gonna dry up~”

He spits once more.

So disrespectful.

And then turns down to Shiu and warns. “Don’t eat her out just yet. Rule number one…” Your heartbeat races as he speaks those familiar words - Fushiguro Toji never was one to care for rules…unless it was in bed. “No running.”

“I’d never run from this pussy.” Shiu frowns.

“Not you, nitwit.” Mercilessly, he’s planting a smack at the back of the farmer’s head. “Her. Don’t let her run.”

Seemingly getting the green light to start up his sensual ministrations again- Shiu slowly starts lapping between your pussylips once more. Proddin’ his thickened tip into the deep orifice of your cunt. “B-but she’s not-”

“Look.” Toji interrupts. Just as you were starting to buck and lift your hips off the sodden mattress. “Look at the way she’s moving ‘round.”

“But that’s just-”

“But this pretty cow hybrid is in heat—and you can’t just leave her uncomfortable like this, can you?” Those dazed eyes of Shiu Kong’s open wider. He faintly nods. “So aren’t you the farmer?”

He nods again - looking as though he was about to faint.

“So herd your damn cow hybrids- c’mon- don’t let her run—” Spurred on even further by his words, Shiu’s plunging back in-between your legs and usin’ his tongue for his life.

Opening his mouth wiiiiiide to make sure that he’s able to reach every nook and cranny—the end of his tongue was just so dexterous and somehow managing to slip into spots you hadn’t even known you had. “O-ohhhh, fuuuuck-” Moans just keep bubbling out of your lips. “It feels so good, Shiu-”

And just when it looked as if you were about to buck—Shiu grabs ahold of your hips- so hard that he leaves neat semi-crescent nail marks on your skin. Plopping you back down onto the bed.

Plopping you back down onto his face.

From then onwards, he doesn’t let you move a single inch as he’s thrashin’ away his fat tongue inside your cunt. Stretching that pussy out to his textured tastebuds. 

And Toji had been watching the entire display closely…very closely. With his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. “Good.” His head threatens to tip backwards as he gives a harsh tug on his thickened length. “And now rule number two: squeeze those gorgeous legs around your head. Doesn’t matter if you suffocate.”

“That- that’s what I said—” Shiu keens.

“Then why’re you speaking?”

Goosebumps run down Shiu’s arched spine. “Oh…”

“A cunt like hers isn’t to be taken for granted.” Toji tuts from above you, and you can’t help but ogle the way his biceps bulge as he pushes down Shiu’s head. “Deeper.” Harder. “Deeper. Don’t waste time talking. Don’t waste time gawking like an idiot. In fact-”

His heated words make goosebumps scatter across your open thighs.

And you whimper-

“-don’t even breathe.”

They’re both driving you absolutely mad—

Toji catches your left ear between his fingers- as it’s been swatting furiously away the more aroused you grew. So soft beneath his touch.

He uses it to urge your mouth down to where his lap was.

“Rule number three…let her fuck back into you- but only if she really…really deserves it.”

“Make the pretty girl work for it?” Shiu looks up.

Toji displays a priggish smirk. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

And you don’t know what sort of expression Shiu might have on his handsome face right now - he was much too…preoccupied for that - but you can sense him nod. Short and sharp. As he keeps on lavishin’ your insides with his tongue; the farmer makes note of just how hard you’re clenching around him. “C’mon, pretty girl—” He pushes down your bucking hips. “Clench a little harder ‘round my tongue, would ya?”

“O-oh, now you’re just mean.”

“It’s what you deserve.” Toji chuckles. “Don’t think I can’t smell your pheromones gettin’ even sweeter- you’re loving this.”

You have no counter accusation - it was, after all, painfully true. And then Toji caresses your sweaty scalp with his thick digits—grabbing ahold of the back of your neck. “Now…lets see if you can be a good girl for me, too.”

An acrid sort of sweetness floods your mouth - because in mere sultry moments Toji has his legs positioned so that they’re practically straddling your face. On the mattress; he’s kneeling to the side of your head and letting his pursed, pinkened cocktip swab across your lips.

He’s rock-hard.

Instantly your jaw’s falling open to accommodate him.

And believe- that there was a lot to be accommodating. For Toji was so many countless inches, thick and decorated in a prominent network of veins across every inch of him. They zigzagged across each of his angles n’ ended up being the most prominent where your sweet spots were—Toji meant it when he said he was made for you.

He had a scruff of jet-black happy trail. He was an angry red at his tip. He was dripping precum.

It puckered out from the divot on top of his shaft—then ended up smeeeeared down the insides of your soft mouth. “Fuuuuck…” Toji himself whispers as he eases in. The bedsprings purr as Shiu bucks against the bed harder.

And before you know it, he’s reaching upwards and biting down on your throbbing clit. “Don’t forget about me, pretty girl. You’re not getting off easy. Rule number three, remember?”

“I—oh.” Shiu’s putting his fingers in now - fingers. Two of them. Long and perfectly calloused from years of hard labor to now massage your tender insides.

Both men are manhandling you oh-so-perfectly: Shiu dragging you down by your tail- and Toji using both hands to maneuver your head down. Letting you take up numerous inches of him. Thick and throbbing.

That rounded end of his shaft hits the back of your throat and you’re immediately coughing-

“Easy there.” Toji lovingly croons…“Not.” And you didn’t expect mercy, did you? Soon enough both of them are running their bodies ragged trying to draw out the most reactions from you—Toji fucking his cock into your suckling mouth, and Shiu hooking a finger not against the roof of your cunt to press on your nerve-filled spots- to make you clench. “C’mon- milk me. You can do better.”

“C’mon, little cow hybrid.” Shiu titters. His digits prove so effective in stretchin’ out your insides even more so than his tongue—and those tastebuds of his remain tickling your clit. “Won’t you squeeze me a little harder?”

“She can’t answer.” Toji laughs. “Got her mouth a little full.”

“Bull got her tongue.”

“Mmmm…” With that said, Toji’s flooding your tastebuds with a thick lacquer of his precum. He increases his pace a little more.

“Just a little harder-” Meanwhilst, Shiu whispers to himself as he keeps probing your sweet, sweet insides. “Just a little- a little—” And at precisely that moment; he’s hitting the bullseye. What else but the place marked X: your g-spot? “O-oh.” 

He damn near cums in his pants.

“Just like that.” Shiu continues. “Fuck back into my fingers. I know you can, girlie.”

“Accomplished rule number three already?” Toji asks the other man. “Yer nicer than me- I know that for sure.”

“What can I say? She’s my favorite.”

After a few more thrusts n’ bucks n’ smashes at your favorite spot - you don’t think you can even formulate a coherent thought. You’re being tugged back and forth by both men—and they aren’t showing any signs of slowing down soon enough. “The fourth and fifth rules are a little alike…” Toji rumbles from above you. “The fourth, of course, is to get ready.”

“Get ready?” Shiu asks. Though by the way he feels the heat in the room - your pheromones - flare up, he’s sure you’re anticipating whatever it is.

“And the fifth is to…” The end of that sentence teeters on the edge of Toji’s tongue as he reels his hips back, back, back, baaaaack- “-take it all like a good girl.” 

And that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Letting the entire length of Toji’s cock fill your mouth from tip to base- his fleshy cockhead searches your insides like a flashlight. It’s almost too pornographic the way you’re choking on his length—gagging, eyes watering. 

To which of course, your beloved mate reaches down to pinch your nostrils closed. “Now now…are you the one in heat or am I?”

“Mmmpf- mmm—” You keen. Moans bubbling from the back of your throat but having no way out.

“Oi- I think she’s close.” Shiu breathes.

He could taste it in the sweet treacly syrup leaking out of you - his favorite. He could taste it in the way your cunt walls were pounding faster than ever. He could fucking smell it in those pheromones of yours that just seemed to flare to life-

“S’that so?” Toji asks. “And that brings me to our sixth and final rule: if she wants something, then she can use her words to ask for it.”

“Hardass.” Shiu scoffs.

But they’re both increasing their pace. For competition or simply to drive you mad?

The sloppiest squelches and pops! fill the room—and Shiu watches as your tail starts twitching agitatedly once the pleasure almost gets too much. Oh his pretty cow hybrid. Once you’re so close that you feel like you could burst- “Toji, she’s close—”

“Then ask for it.” Toji keeps shovelling his cock deeper. Deeper. “Fucking ask for it, doll.”

“Toji-”

Slamming into your throat with a final thwack! His balls were damn near leaving an imprint on your chin. “You can ask the farmer to help you with your heat- but you can’t ask me to make you cum…?”

“She did.”

The tension in the room falters - but never bates - as Toji turns to look at the other man. “What?”

“She did-” Shiu hastens to explain. “Ask to cum, that is…” And as if to prove his point—he’s plummeting a few more pushes with his fingers, scissoring them inside you so that those slurping suctioning noises are extra loud. “-right here.”

Toji waits for a beat.

Before he lets out a little snicker.

Before he lets out an entire laugh-

“Maybe you’re not so bad- for you, that is.” And then he’s boring his forest fire gaze down at you. “Hear that? Yer damn lucky that you’re the farmer’s favorite—hah, better thank him.” Toji’s then tugging your ear to watch you squirm just a little.

He lets out a final few thrusts.

And waits until his cock was embedded deeeep into the back of your throat - and your nose was pressed against those tufts of black at his base. Until you were well and fully stuffed full of him. 

“So cum then, my pretty mate.”

And with a few more thorough slashes inside you—knockin’ Shiu’s burly fingers into your sweetest spots, slithering Toji’s length down every crevice of your mouth, you’re crashing into your high. 

It’s quick and searing.

It takes over your body faster than you can register. Burning through every other thought and feeling - you’re letting out erotic moans around Toji’s cock, and they keep getting louder as it keeps prolonging. Longer and longer. The more they’re toyin’ with your throbbing, sopping cunt. 

Those fervent peaks seem to get stronger - and within you feels practically white-hot in sensation. Pulling off of his bulbous tip. “Sh-shiiiiiit—” Keening out. “It feels so good- it feels so good-”

“You’re welcome.” Toji says. Shovelling his pinkish tip back between those lips.

At the same time that Shiu’s panting. “Anything for you, pretty girl.”

“Don’t fucking stop.”

Of course, as your mates they’re practically bound to listen to your every syllable.

And you don’t feel them rest - even take a breath - until your orgasm was well and almost completely disappeared from the horizon.

Tears of overstimulation were now springing to your eyes. Thighs twitching with the faintest splinters of sensitivity. “F-fuck…” Toji’s throbbing tip falls from your lips. It leaves a thin ribbon of slick connecting you to him still. You’re blabbering. “Fuck, I’m getting sensitive now.”

“Hm…Shiu climb up.” Toji says.

Both you and Shiu share a glance—and with something that looked like a half-shrug, Shiu’s attempting to heave himself up from the floor-

Only to be grabbed by Toji by the hand and yanked onto bed.

The farmer’s letting out a little yelp as he’s finding himself bounced onto the springy mattress - right on your other side. Sandwiched between the two buff, broad men- you don’t think you’ve ever felt your heart beat faster…ever smelled your pheromones so potently…

“Shiu, I need those off.” You huff. Batting those teary lashes of yours.

“Oh.” His face twists into something like ecstacy - how many times has he fantasized about those very words leaving your mouth?

And, flustered, the farmer starts unbuckling his overall one-by-one-

“We’re not trying to wait until her heat’s over.” Toji gruffs. And his veined forearm reaches across you - grasping onto the front of Shiu’s overall and giving it a good tug.

Those buckles are breaking free immediately. 

The bull hybrid smiles to himself proudly. “There.”

“I should have half the mind to return you to Kusakabe…” Shiu grumbles to himself, as he takes off the rest of his clothes. That sentence makes the faintest flicker of recognition light up in his brain - really, where was Kusakabe - but it’s evaporating soon enough once you start helping him take his boxers off. 

“I’m warning you in advance, however…” He starts.

“Why?”

“Yeah- are you hiding a 21-incher in there or something?” Toji scoffs.

“No no- it’s not that. I’m…above average- probably.” Shiu waves off, his burning blush creeping up onto his face again. “It’s just that I might have made…a little mess when I was eating you out.”

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean by- oh.”

Oh, was right. Right indeed.

Because of course- Shiu was naturally an impressive size. About eight inches. With a much more tan tip than Toji’s - and perhaps even thicker, too - and a girth that made your mouth water. He was smoother than Toji—less veins ‘round his shaft except for a single prominent one that went around the left side. And he was curved ever-so-slightly upright, too. 

But what really caught your attention was…Shiu had cum in his pants.

Just from eating you out.

“Oh…” Your eyes widen as you take in the dark splotch at the front of his boxers. 

Thick ropey white cum had seeped into it- and Shiu’s hastily snatching those boxers out of your hands to throw them over his shoulder. His hands felt sticky. “But that’s neither here nor there-”

“Of course it is.” Toji says after a moment of contemplation. “I’m adding a seventh rule.” 

Yours and Shiu’s eyes pop open. 

“Shit.”

“Shit-”

“What?” The bull hybrid looks at you both in mock innocence. “I was just going to say that the guest goes first…”

It’s…unexpected. To say the least. But you weren’t complaining - and by the way that Shiu’s reddened length perks up at the idea, you don’t think he is either.

“Um, so how do I…”

Toji angles himself towards you- “Get up a little, doll?”

You arch your hips off the bed; and Toji’s taking the opportunity to sidle his own hips underneath them. He’s manhandling you so that you’re simply sprawled-out on his chiselled front—and oh, how your mouth waters at the sensation of his rippling pecs and abs. The way they’re massaging you from behind at even the slightest movements—was that his v-line? 

And did you mention that Toji just-so-happened to have the cutest ringed piercings through each nipple?

They’re pushing into you from behind once the hybrid hooks both hands underneath each of your legs. And he’s lifting them aaaaaaaall the way up until your knees hit your tits. Spreading you wide, wide open.

A full nelson.

Except…this time, it’s Shiu’s who’s going to be basking between your legs. 

The aforementioned man takes a courageous gulp as he shuffles on his knees between your legs - and Toji’s - to lovingly gaze at you. “Fuuuuuck, my pretty girl…you really are so gorgeous.” Shiu whispers- underneath his breath as though he didn’t even mean for you to hear.

His darkened eyes sweep down your body like a caress. “The way that pussy’s dripping so much- shit, s’like a flood down there. Can you even feel yourself?” You’re squirming at his lecherous words. “And those legs. Trembling. And the way you’re just throbbing- I can see it from here.”

You’re gasping as he presses his hot length down on your cunt. 

Sandwiched between each of your pussylips: Shiu doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight. “You’re just so dirty, girlie~”

You shudder.

And Shiu could have kept going- it absolutely killed him to tear his gaze off of you. It really did.

But Shiu could sense Toji starting to get impatient if the slightly souring tint in his pheromones was anything to go by- hey, look at that…he’s reading pheromones now. Mentalling patting himself on the back; the farmer starts slide-slide-sliiiiiding his fattened-up cock between your precious folds. “Easy there, girl?”

“Yeah yeah- we’re easy.” Rolling his eyes, you’re getting jostled as the hybrid underneath bucks. And at this point, you’re honestly wondering which one of you was more excited for his entrance…“Just get on with it.”

“Unlike you, Toji, I don’t just- get on with it.” Shiu sounded offended at the mere suggestion. 

And as you both look towards him for further clarification, Shiu nervously bites down on the inside of his cheek and pushes his swollen cock down the slit of your cunt. “It’s just that…” He lets his particularly large tip kiss your hole. “-what if I end up hurting my pretty girl during her heat? I’d never forgive myself.”

“How cute.” Toji snickers. But there’s something that you recognize there—appreciation? “But not if you follow our rules, farmer boy. Remember those?”

Shiu rolls his eyes. “How could I forget?”

“Yeah- recite those.” And you’re gasping once one of Toji’s meaty palms drift up to your face - covering your dazed peripherals. “We’re both going to take turns fucking her using those rules, and my mate’s going to guess which one of us it is—how about that?”

“Mmm, sounds fun.” You smile.

And seeing that gorgeous smile of yours - what else was he supposed to be but putty in your hands? Shiu’s giving himself a few pumps before starting to press into your tight rim.

You’re tight.

So fucking tight.

His brows furrow n’ sweat starts beading at his forehead as he slowly - sloooowly - starts easing his proud cock inside. You’re arching into Toji’s back, whilst Shiu probes into your deepest depths. “O-oh.”

It was something so different.

Although he wasn’t exactly as vein-covered as Toji was; Shiu’s length managed to have the perfect curve that prodded ‘round the roof of your cunt. Somehow directly aiming for those tender spots inside—you’re feeling the pointed end of his shaft draw sensual zig-zags inside and you’re immediately begging for more.

Of course, that’s when Toji’s silently signalling Shiu to pull out.

Replacing the farmer’s cock with his instead.

Thick. Throbbing. Those patterns and groves on his shaft were just dizzying- and Toji’s already rendered your eyes sprinting to the back of your head with but a mere few inches inside you. 

He’s making your first ring of muscle streeeeeetch- and pressing a second overlarge hand down on your stomach to keep you from movin’ around too much. And you don’t need to see him to reach blindly behind you and tug on Toji’s newest bull ring—

“Don’t be mean, Toji.”

“S’not being mean, it’s just the rules.” Toji argues. His words come out in sizzling pants against the side of your face - somehow just his presence seemed enough to make your heat symptoms two times worse. “Now that the practice run’s over…”

Your eyes are fluttering open- only to see nothing past the gaps of Toji’s thick fingers. “That was just the practice run—?” Your poor puckered hole was already pulsating with friction.

But neither of them are answering.

Instead, it just seems that they’re intent on fucking any question or comprehensible thought right back into you—because just you’re feeling a sudden intrusion deep into your core. The bulbous head of it swipes apart your puffy pussylips- and the next thing you know, you’re seeing nothing but stars at the neverending inches of one of their cocks.

Somehow managing to probe even deeper than the first time- whoever this was was so fatly swollen that his cockhead opens up plunging crevices inside you. Perhaps even new ones.

You’re gasping away- “Please.” Both men are impressively managing to keep quiet as they’re easing inside. Not completely bottoming-out…but enough to make your toes curl. “Oh, please that feels so good.”

Hips attempting to chase more- he was going so slow.

But just as soon as you do - almost the very instant that your hips are breaking contact with the skin of Toji’s toned pelvis - you feel one of his hands pin you back down. Preventing you from moving a single inch.

Your hybrid ears rustle with the huff of laughter from behind you—and you know that there’s only one man who’d keep a hand oh-so-possessively on top of your womb as he sinks into your soaking wet cunt. Rule number one, remember?

“Toji-” You’re sputtering out, voice breaking so prettily at the end of your plea. “T-Toji move a little faster- ngh, please—”

Yet another failed attempt at a buck. “Good job, doll.” He gnaws on your ear lobe. “But don’t think we’re done here just yet…”

And then before you know it, he’s pulling out. The action lets out the loudest, sloppiest little plop! of pleasure between your legs- and it feels as though firecrackers are going off through your veins.

You’re practically shaking once another intrusion starts proddin’ between your legs. This time a bit more…timid. A bit more hesitant. A bit more inexperienced and careful—and you don’t have to pay attention to anything more as Shiu creeps your legs around his waist.

Letting his tunneling cockhead push into that wet hole of yours.

Unlike Toji, however, Shiu Kong simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Oh…” It’s just about the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard - like music to your ears. But could you really blame the guy? “Legs- rules number t-two, remember?” This was the first proper taste of that syrupy cunt he’s getting—the exact same one he’s been dreaming of for ages…as much as that makes him sound like an utter pervert.

Maybe he was.

Maybe- what even was he? What was his name? Who was he?

Shiu can’t formulate a single thought.

Maybe he should be concerned about that…but for the time being, he’s collapsing his lower half into you. Funneling the smoother length of his cock inside; the farmer is the first of the two to actually bottom out. Thighs against your thighs. Forehead against your forehead. Cocktip against your cervix.

You swear you’re feeling Shiu intrude all the way up to your throat—“Shiu…keep moving, baby.”

“Oh- oh, you seriously want it?” He asks between uneven pants. And even more uneven are those semi-thrusts he’s poundin’ away at the back of your pussy—unwilling to break contact with your sopping womb for even a split-second to thrust back in. “You seriously want this ol’ farmer to fuck you like this? And that’s not just the heat talking-”

“It’s always the heat talking.” Toji scoffs. “This slutty girl’s always in heat. Honestly- who told you it could come early?”

“S’not my fault.” Shiu taps the side of your thigh to signal to you that- oh…you’re getting dangerously close to Toji figuring it out. 

Sure, it seems that he’d deduced by now that there was something regarding the startings of a mating bond between you and Shiu. And what sort of hybrid would come between that? But the fact that Toji himself shared it…

Thankfully in that moment Shiu’s creating a distraction - unintentional or not. Because just a few thrusts and he’s already starting to bead out hot, glutinous cum that sticks to the back of your pussy.

“Shit…” Shiu whispers to himself. You’re sensing one of his hands reach downwards to squeeze ‘round the base of his length—perhaps thinking that that would stop him. But the only thing Shiu’s managing to do is milk out a few more cobwebs of cum that are getting fucked and fucked in by his irregular thrusts. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Time’s up.” Toji cuts him off gruffly. “It’s getting too easy- hurry it up.”

“Yes…sir?” Fuck- he hates to admit it but the bull hybrid was correct.

Ah…you’d expected for the two to alternate between thrusts. But you just didn’t expect it this fast. Because all of a sudden, Toji’s going from merely caressing your front to wrapping his entire left arm around your middle. Oh, those beefy forearms of his were simply indescribable. 

Then Shiu’s reeling his sloppy, cum-glazed cock backwards for one of them to replace it in no time. 

Such plump inches of their shaft. Such impatient semi-thrusts as he leaves your mouth watering. He’s increasing his pace twofold once you’re accommodating him inside, and Toji’s pressing his palm deeper against your face. “Oh-” And you hadn’t expected them to stick to their damn six (or seven) rules so much, either…“Fuuuuuuck. Is it Toji?”

“Nope.” Shiu chuckles. From where he was positioned in front of you, the farmer leans down and kisses your lips. “Still me.”

In punishment, you’re getting a heavy spankin’ on your stuffed pussy.

“Shit.”

“And the rule-” Toji pipes up from behind. “What about the rule?”

“What about the rule, I mean—” It’s just then that you’re realizing - you haven’t been able to squirm a single inch since Shiu had begun swabbin’ your poor insides. “Rule number one- rule number one.”

“Good girl.” Toji laughs. “Next.”

And you’re soon coming to the realization that they weren’t going to make this easy for you: due to everything from their rapid alternations, to the way that both of them were fucking you so stupid—

“Toji-” You’re dragging your nails down whatever body part of Toji’s that you could reach. His biceps flexed underneath your touch. “And the rule is…oh, the rule is…” Brain landing on the closest one that you think you could remember. “Rule number six?”

“Half-correct.” Toji punishes you with yet another spank. The white-hot pain and pleasure that runs up your cunt is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “That was actually a trick round - no rule.”

You bite. “Silly me…”

“But half-correct deserves just a little bit of a treat, doesn’t it?” Shiu makes your case.

And the ever-mean Fushiguro Toji considers it for a few seconds - before he’s nodding and letting his fingers dip between your pussylips. Rolling over clit in circular motions. “Happy?”

“V-very much.” You respond.

And so the cycle repeats - as both men are fucking into you like damn animals.

“Shiu? Rule number one-”

Thwack! “Half-correct.”

“Toji? Rule number five.”

Thwack! “Half-correct again, doll.”

“Toji? Rule number six.”

Thwack! Thwack! “Wrong!”

“Shiu-”

“Toji-”

Shiu. Toji. Shiu. Toji. Shiu. Toji. 

Over and over again—until you’ve said every rule at least five times, and their names countless amounts so.

It was almost getting too much. There’s another switch; and this time the thrusts are like none before them. They were harsh. They were jagged. They weren’t hitting with any specific target or objective in mind—just with the sole purpose of indentin’ his fat cockhead into every spot inside you, and hitting his hips to yours until you skin was burning-

“Toji?” You’re guessing, “Ruler number- fuck…the one about getting ready-” Based solely on the way that both men had their hands tapping at your hips to let you know when a particularly hard hit was coming through.

“And which one is that?” Toji croons.

“Number four-” There’s a victorious little pebble of precum that Toji’s emptying out into your insides. 

“Mmm, good catch.” And you’re feeling the smile crawl onto your face. “But I’m not Toji.”

Fucking—thwack!

“But how about just a little reward?” And then a hot mouth starts kissing down the valley of your breast - from this angle you could only assume that it was Shiu. 

Shiu was lapping the soft targets of your areolas…just lightly biting…and oh—he lets out a wet gasp as a thin stream of milk flows from your tits n’ into the handsome man’s mouth. “Oh- this might just be my reward.” He says as he keeps massaging your chest, twiddling his fingers over where you were most sensitive. 

“Leave some f’me.” Toji grunts at the other man.

By this point you were a blabbering mess, and it didn’t help that the other two were only growing sloppier by the second. Perhaps it was the heat affecting you three. Perhaps it was the pressure being put on all your bodies - crushed together like this. Hips driving into you again and again and again—

Another globular tip swerves inside you. “I-is it…Toji?” You ask. Your lower lip wobbles at the sudden stretches on places that couldn’t be reached without such a girth - both of them had their merits and it was hard not to long for…both. The mere thought fogs your mind. “And is it…”

Though there could only be one answer. At least for this one.

Your poor tail’s being used as a lever to drag you down onto Toji’s extremely thickened cock until you sat on the bottom of it. “-rule number five?”

Toji kisses the side of your face. “Now that…is 100% correct.”

“And what would you like as a reward? Tell your Shiu anything, pretty girl.” Shiu says—drawing a half-serious scoff from the hybrid.

But of course. There can only ever be one thing.

Your mouth opens and the confession slips out of you before you can think it through fully.

And then there’s a beat of silence- hell, you think even Toji’s hips began to falter. For but a mere split-second before he’s bashing in the soft spongy platform at the end of your cunt—“Oh.” He breathes. “I don’t see why not…”

Thrill shoots through you.

And for the first time in a while - Toji removes his palm from your face. You’re wincing ever-so-slightly at the sudden flood of light, before that expression turns into something akin to yearning as you stare at Shiu’s cock throbbing between your legs. 

He was almost out-of-place with Toji’s fat length already stuffed inside you. 

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.” Shiu whispers to himself as he glides his blushin’ cockhead to drag along your outer cunt. Uuuuup the planes of your thighs. Lingering on that leakin’ slit that was so stuffed. And then squeezing the very tip-top reddened crown of his shaft into your entrance—did he mention that you already had Toji’s fat length stuffed inside you?

Shiu’s expression morphs at the tightest fit-

“Shit- fucking shit, are we sure—”

“Why not?” Toji asks. And Shiu thinks that that’s damn easy for him to say; especially considering that he was already kept hostage inside your gooey inside. That’s where Shiu was trying to be.

He’s attempting to drag you in using your tail.

The other man is rolling his eyes - and his hips. Letting off a few useless semi-thrusts that doesn’t push him even a single inch inside—not with the extremely plump circumference of the hybrid’s length inside. “Oh yeah? Then why don’t you- hah, pull out and try doing it yourself if you think it’s so easy?

“The early bull gets the pussy.” Toji smirks. “Besides- don’t tell me you’re forgetting rule number five already? The one about taking it all also means that you have to- mmm, put it all in-”

“I remember.” Shiu spits. Hands pushing your legs further open and grindin’ his hips close until his happy trail was roughly massaging your clit. “I’m just saying that it’s hypocritical to talk about the rules when even you wouldn’t be able to-”

“Guys-” You shrill above the constant arguing. “Guys.”

It takes you raising your voice loud enough to make the bedroom walls shudder for them to finally hear you.

And once they look at you- you’re huffing up at them. “I’m making my own rule.” Both pairs of pretty pussydrunken eyes widen in unison. “From now on- if you fight then you have to kiss and make up.”

“What-”

“What-”

“Pretty girl…” Shiu attempts to appeal to your softer side.

“Nuh huh.” Shaking your head. “So kiss—and then just fuck me.”

They share a look as if to question whether usurping of the rule-making was allowed…before it seems to dawn on them that yes—if it was you. And Shiu’s shrugging and leaning in - all the while still keeping his pulsating cocktip present between your folds - and Toji meets him halfway with only a few grumbles.

Shiu moans into the kiss.

And with a resounding sluuuuurp! he’s managing to squeeze just an inch or two of his cock inside. Double lengths stretching your walls until you were seeing white-

“Oh- oh.” You’re moaning. Shiu now had everything he needed to reel his bulky hips back and start pummeling you in time with Toji’s own thrusts. “I’ve never felt anything like this before—”

“Me neither.” The farmer manages through clenched teeth. The sensitive underside of his cock was rubbin’ and getting pulled by Toji’s own - those patterns of his veins, and the rock-hardness that mirrored his own - and even the slightest friction was enough to send spirals of white-hot pleasure pouring out of his bawling divot. 

“Tch- fine…me neither.” Toji groans. “But it only feels good because of me-”

“In your dreams.”

Without even being asked to or reminded of the newly-minted rule, they’re pressing a kiss onto each other’s lips—and then yours. Their pheromones twisting and melding into one. Their skin growing even more heated. Their cocks growing faster- 

And faster.

Both Shiu and Toji were moving at sloppy, lust-hazed paces that should not be possible for such a tight cranny. And yet they were managing to time it so that you’re feeling both of them exactly in the best ways: Toji and his deeeelicious veins pressing their patterns onto the sides of your channel, Shiu and his upright curve that spotted all your best nerve endings. 

They’re sandwiching you from above and below, too—Toji and his Herculean build, Shiu and his similar yet broader- and somehow stronger build.

They’re absolutely ruining you.

Ruining you.

Fucking you until your pussy’s feeling rattled and raw- and your eyes have completely bleared over with tears. Brain fried.

So it isn’t long before you’re feeling the pangs of an oncoming orgasm, and letting your mouth open to announce it—

“I-I’m going to cum.” But in actuality it’s Shiu that manages the declaration. And he’s stuffing his face into your tits, suckling out the sweet sweet milk that your hybrid body produces as he strings your gooey insides with his cum. “My pretty cow hybrid, I’m gonna stuff you full.” Looooong ropes of satin. So hard- that Shiu’s forced to hold onto both yours and Toji’s horns as he fucks your overstuffed pussy through his orgasm.

Those veins of Toji’s were making him twitch in pleasure.

You and Toji are crashing into your high rather soon afterwards too.

“Gonna…oh.” As the forceful waves of dopamine flood through every vein and atom inside you—practically make you vibrate with pleasure. You’re letting your eyes fly to the back of your head, and your toes curl as both men thrash that gooey g-spot of yours.

Perfectly synchronized with every peak upon peak of your high.

The prolonged wave of bliss soars—and it’s around the very crescendo that you’re feeling Toji empty his heavy balls out as well. They’d been thwack-thwack-thwacking! near the bottom of your slit for so long now, creating a carnal ache over your outer pussy- and it just feels so good to feel those globs of cum flood your deepest caverns.

Where Shiu had already made a mess before- “Shit…don’t stop.” 

And it’s with renewed vigor that they’re fucking and fucking you through the white-hot pleasure - so good that you’re sobbing. In-between this euphoric experience is when Toji’s keening his hips up into yours- chasing the wetness of your cunt even more—

Not just to fuck his pearly-white droplets of cum inside - but to try and squeeze, fuck, his swollen knot inside.

“Inside—” As you demand needily at your bull hybrid, Shiu watches on in something akin to awe. He starts nudging his hips back as though to give Toji more space-

But you’re wrapping your legs around his hips and dragging him to you. “Rule number one, remember?”

Letting Toji fuck his knot inside you as Shiu has his twitchin’ wet cock stuffed in there, too. The stretch was indescribable.

You think you’re cumming all over again just from it.

“My- my mates…” You’re sobbing out- sandwiched between the two buff men. Shiu leans in to kiss you, and once he’s taking a good long look at Toji too. 

“My mates…I suppose?” He says with a sheepish smile.

Toji looks between the two of you, seemingly having connected the dots. “Does this mean I’ve gotta get both of you pregnant?”

You smile. “Sounds good to me.”

Shiu. “Wait-”

Because heats lasted a week for hybrids. 

Shiu better get his human stamina used to it.

.

.

.

“I’m sorry…what?”

It’s a sentence that Shiu thinks he’s going to have to get used to a lot—telling people that the cow hybrid you’d had a crush on for the past few years but then gotten mated is actually your mate too - and that by association you’re her mate’s mate but honestly not really complaining about it is…for one a long sentence. 

And two, it’s probably going to get a bunch of weird looks.

It sounds like the stuff of a fantasy, maybe even those romance stories; and Shiu’s well and fully aware of how he sounds when he says it.

Which is why he’s telling Kusakabe first - it only seemed appropriate.

“It’s exactly as I said.” Shiu states matter-of-factly. “And you can ask Dr. Shoko if you think there’s been any mix-”

“No no, man. It’s not that I don’t believe you.” Kusakabe interrupts him. “In fact, I think it’s great that you finally managed to do something about your feelings- congratulations, man.”

“Thank you.” Shiu watches the herd from the door to the barn house - inside, the only pair were you and Toji. His breath hitches once you’re walking over from Toji to nuzzle up to him. He reaches to scratch behind those silken ears of yours—“But then what was all that about?”

“Ah- no, it’s just…” There’s a truck honk from the other end of the line, and Shiu realizes that Kusakabe must be going somewhere. “I assumed it was actually about the bull.”

Shiu squints. “The what thing?”

“The bull thing. I guess Toji forgot to tell you since you were a little preoccupied. But last night when Toji took over driving my truck we happened to run into…everything.”

Shiu snorts. “Serves you right.”

“And man- I needed this truck to transport this new bull hybrid for ol’ Gakuganji down in Kyoto. You know how he gets. It’s the only one big enough so…” 

And now…now Shiu wasn’t exactly having fun. “…And?” The two of you were looking at him in interest now, clearly having heard something about another hybrid—and Toji especially had had his smirk growing in synchronization with the increasingly ashen look on Shiu’s face.

“And so Toji said it’s alright, but would you mind looking after this new bull for a few days until I get the truck fixed? Just for a few days. I’m actually on the way there right now so thank you. His name is Sukuna and-”

“Noooooooooo-”

“Not sorry enough,” Nanami breathes out, his tongue daring to ever so slightly graze your ear. “But you will be.” “Such a disappointment,” Geto tuts, steepling his fingers under his chin as Nanami guides you towards him.  “Slipping grades. Distractions. You’re thinking with your cunt instead of your calculator, pretty girl. Not exactly executive assistant behavior, now is it, pet?” “No, sir,” you answer, breath catching and pussy clenching as Nanami’s hand slides up under the short length of your skirt—a clear uniform violation. “Tsk, no panties either.” Nanami quips, one hand loosening his tie, the other cupping your cunt, your clit quivering wildly in his heavy palm. “Another violation. This one needs a firmer hand.” And for emphasis Nanami gives your clit peeking through your folds a heavy-handed slap. Geto grins, rising from his chair with control as he slides off his belt to draw it taunt in his hands. “Hm, I feared that might be the case, a pussy greedy as this one is in dire need of correction.”  You’re practically vibrating as Nanami forcibly bends you over the large desk, pushing your skirt up past your hips as you feel the air hitting your exposed pussy and the brush of his tie against your wrists. At long last, a dream worth getting fucked up in— BZZZ. 

The lights flicker abnormally and the temperature in the room drops 10 degrees. Your stomach plummets. Oh you gotta be kidding me!!! Confirming your literal worse nightmare in the moment the desk beneath you begins to rot—polished wood peeling back in blackened curls. The floor buckles. The shiny tiles twist and writhe like snakes shedding their skin as they dislodge themselves from the ground. Geto’s papers scatter into the air, fluttering up in a draft before bursting into wriggling black worms that hit the ground with a sickening, wet squelch. “UGH, GROSS!” you shriek, recoiling. A guttural laugh echoes from above as your eyes lock onto the intruder. Sukuna is perched like a smug alley cat atop a bookshelf, claws flexed, four glowing eyes gleaming with gleeful malice. “You think you can walk away from me so easily, whore?” You scramble back, slipping out of Nanami’s grip just as he melts into a pile of squirming millipedes. “Urgh! Can't you take a hint?! You don’t even go here, asshole!”

Sukuna grins wickedly, mimicking a scolding teacher. “Aww, but I brought my red pen,” he purrs, raising a bloody claw. “And I plan to mark you up next.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groan, sidestepping zombie-Geto’s veiny, writhing hands as they reach for your ankles. “Get a real hobby, you ancient freak!” “I have one,” Sukuna sneers, leaping down from the shelf in a terrifying yet graceful arc. “Tormenting haughty sluts who think I won’t kill them.” Letting out a cry of frustration you make a run straight for the nearest exit—the window. Without hesitation you crash through headfirst, glass shattering around you. But there’s no pain. Just crisp air rushing past your face as you plummet. The sky spins above you as gravity tilts sideways, air slicing past.  Tumbling out of one dream, down into another.

Right as you question if you will ever stop falling—familiar arms embrace you.

               all rights reserved. blkkizzat©2023-2026

hmm... i wonder who caught you? any guesses? ;)

i actually have most things written but the sex scene. i will finish this i promiseeeeee sbndjfvbdsfjh.

if you wanna be tagged and didn't ask on part 1 you can comment below.

you stop talking. your eyes drop to his hands, to the sketchbook open on his knees, to the exact page he's on—the shirtless one—and your face goes white for a second before turning bright red.

"oh my god."

he looks up at you, a grin already pulling at his mouth. "you draw me?"

"give it back." you reach for it, but he just lifts it out of your reach, way too entertained by this.

"wait, wait, wait." he flips back a page, holding it up. "are these abs? i don't think i actually have abs like this."

"satoru—"

"i mean, kind of," he says, grinning even wider, "but you really went all in here. there's shading. you gave me a six pack i don't fully have."

you try to grab it again. he holds it just out of reach again, smiling down at you.

"you drew my hands three times. why does a hand need three tries."

"because hands are hard, okay? that's not weird, hands are literally one of the hardest things to draw, ask anyone—"

"never said it was weird." he finally lowers the sketchbook, though he doesn't hand it back yet. he just looks at you for a second—your face completely red, your arms crossed tight like you're trying to disappear. "it's flattering."

you groan and cover your face with both hands. "it's for class. i'm not being weird about it."

"didn't say that either." his smile softens a little, more curious now than teasing. "but seriously. why me?"

you peek at him through your fingers, like maybe if you don't fully participate in this conversation it'll just end on its own. "we started a new unit," you mumble. "figure drawing. like, anatomy, proportions, the whole body. they bring in models for class and it's just—it's so awkward, satoru. you're sitting there for three hours trying to draw a person you've never even talked to."

"so you draw me instead."

"my professor said it's easier when you draw someone you actually know," you say quickly, like talking fast will make this less embarrassing. "like, it helps to already be familiar with the person. and you're a sports major, you're literally built like the examples in our textbook, so i thought... i don't know. it made sense."

"so you thought, 'oh wait. i've got a pretty handsome friend. i'll draw him.'"

"i did not think about it like that."

"you basically did."

but he's not really laughing at you. there's something kind of warm in the way he's looking at you now, the sketchbook still resting on his knee like he's in no rush to give it back. "you know," he says, his voice a little quieter now, "you could've just asked me."

"i didn't want to make it weird."

he raises an eyebrow. "weirder than it already is?"

you groan and bury your face in your hands again. "stop it."

he chuckles, finally closing the sketchbook but still not handing it back, just holding it loosely against his chest like he's claimed it now. "so what's the assignment actually for? like what's due."

you hesitate. this is the part you really didn't want to get into. "it's, um. it's a full figure study. like, a finished piece, not just sketches."

"okay. so like what you already drew?"

"kind of. except—" you stop, feeling your face heat up all over again.

"except what?"

you sigh, giving up on hiding it. "it has to be a nude study. that's the whole point of the unit. like, the body without clothes, the way the muscles and proportions actually work without fabric getting in the way."

his eyebrows go up, surprised, but he doesn't say anything teasing this time, just listens.

"and everyone else in class already has their reference done," you continue, the words spilling out faster now that you've started. "they've all been going to the model sessions for weeks. i missed like three of them and now i'm behind. i don't have anything to actually work from, and it's due monday, and i don't know what i'm gonna do."

he's quiet for a second, turning the sketchbook over in his hands like he's thinking. then he shrugs, easy, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "so draw me."

you blink at him. "what?"

"draw me," he says again, like he's repeating himself for someone a little slow. "for the assignment."

"satoru, i don't think you understand what i just said—"

"i understood it fine." he leans back against the table, arms crossed now, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "you need a body to draw. i have a body. solves your problem."

"that's not— you don't have to do that."

"you didn't ask. i offered."

"satoru."

"what? you already drew me shirtless without even asking," he points out, smirking. "feels like i should at least get a say in it this time."

your mouth opens and then closes again, no actual argument coming to mind.

"so," he says, holding the sketchbook out to you now, finally, "when do you want me."

you stare at him for a long moment, waiting for the joke to land, for him to laugh and say he's kidding. it doesn't come. he just watches you, sketchbook held out between you, patient in a way that's almost worse than if he were still teasing.

"you're serious," you finally say.

"dead serious." he wiggles the sketchbook a little, like he's reminding you it's still there, still yours to take. "i mean, unless you don't want it to be me. i get it if that's weird."

"it's not that i don't want it to be you," you say quickly, before you can think better of it, and then immediately wish you could take the sentence back the second you hear how it sounds out loud.

his grin widens. "oh?"

"shut up. you know what i mean." you finally take the sketchbook from him, hugging it to your chest like it might protect you from the rest of this conversation. "i just don't want you to feel like you have to. it's a big ask."

"could just say thank you, you know." he checks his phone, then looks back up at you. "okay, so. when's good. you said it's due monday?"

your stomach does something complicated at the thought of this actually happening, of him actually meaning it. "i mean—if you're really down, friday night could work. gives me the whole weekend after to finish the piece."

"friday night works. come by my dorm, like, eight?" he says it so casually, like he's inviting you over for a movie and not offering to sit there while you draw every inch of him. "more privacy than the studio anyway. don't gotta worry about randos walking in."

"right." your voice comes out a little higher than you mean it to. "yeah. that makes sense."

"bring your stuff. pencils, whatever you need." he's already turning to go, slinging his bag over one shoulder, looking far too unbothered for someone who just volunteered for this. then he glances back at you, smirk creeping in again ""and hey—make sure you get the good angles. i have a reputation to maintain."

"i make no promises."

he laughs at that, walking backward a few steps before finally turning around fully and heading off down the hall, leaving you standing there with your sketchbook clutched to your chest and friday suddenly feeling very, very far away and not far away at all.

︵︵︵ ๑ ♡ ๑ ︵︵︵

you knock on his door right at eight, sketchbook tucked under your arm. when the door swings open, you almost forget how to speak entirely.

he's standing there in nothing but a towel slung low around his hips, hair still damp and pushed back messily from the shower, a few stray drops sliding down the side of his neck. he looks completely unbothered by it, leaning one arm against the doorframe like he just answered the door for a pizza delivery and not for you.

"hey," he says, grinning at the way your eyes immediately snap up to his face. "you're early. or i'm late. one of those."

"you said eight," you manage, voice coming out a little strangled.

"yeah, and it's eight." he steps back to let you in, completely at ease, while you do your absolute best not to stare at the water still tracking down his collarbone. "wanted to shower first. figured you'd want clean reference material, not sweaty me."

"right. that's—considerate." your face is heating up fast, and you hate how obvious it probably is.

he notices, of course he notices, smirk pulling wider as he shuts the door behind you. "you're already red and i haven't even dropped the towel yet."

"i'm not red."

"you're very red." he says it gently, almost fond, like he's enjoying this a little too much. "relax. you're gonna see me naked in like, five minutes anyway. no point getting shy now."

"that's—that doesn't make it less weird, satoru, that makes it more—" you cut yourself off, setting your bag down on his desk a little too forcefully, mostly to give your hands something to do that isn't fidgeting.

he just laughs, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. "you're the one who's been secretly sketching me for who knows how long without even telling me. i'm just catching up to the project at this point."

you need something to say, anything, because the silence stretching between you feels too loud, too charged, like it's just waiting for you to do something stupid like keep staring at him. "so, um." you clear your throat, eyes darting anywhere that isn't directly at the towel. "how was practice?"

he glances at you over his shoulder, clearly clocking the fact that you're filling dead air for the sake of filling it, but he humors you anyway, padding over to the little kitchenette tucked in the corner of his dorm. "long. coach had us running rounds for like two hours straight. my legs are gonna hate me tomorrow."

"sounds rough."

"it was fine." he pulls a shaker bottle down from a shelf, dumping in a scoop of protein powder with one hand while the other holds the towel in place at his hip. "you get used to it after a while. body adjusts."

"right. makes sense." you nod way too many times for someone agreeing with such a simple statement, perching yourself on the edge of his desk chair, flipping your sketchbook open.

he adds water, screws the lid on, and shakes it, the muscles in his forearm shifting in a way you absolutely do not need to notice right now and notice anyway. then he tips his head back and drinks, and you watch—you can't help it, your eyes just go there on their own—the long line of his throat moving as he swallows, a bead of water from his still-damp hair sliding down the side of his neck and disappearing somewhere past his collarbone.

you realize you're staring a full two seconds too late.

"you're staring," he says, lowering the bottle, that slow grin spreading across his face like he's been waiting for an excuse to call it out.

"what?" your voice comes out a little too fast.

"you heard me." he sets the shaker down on the counter, leaning back against it. "staring. at me. just now."

"i wasn't staring," you say, way too quickly, your face heating up all over again as you fumble to look anywhere else—the ceiling, the floor, the stack of textbooks on his desk, anywhere that isn't him.

"you were so staring." he pushes off the counter, walking closer with that unhurried way he moves, like he has all the time in the world and fully intends to use it to torture you. "it's fine. i get it. i'm a lot to take in."

"oh my god."

"i'm just messing with you." he laughs. "relax. you look like you're about to pass out."

"I'm fine."

"uh huh." he doesn't push it further. he turns and heads toward the open space near his window, where the evening light is still soft and golden enough. he glances back at you over his shoulder. "okay. so how do you want me. like, pose-wise."

"oh—right." you fumble for your sketchbook, flipping it open to a blank page, grateful for something to focus on besides the fact that he's still only in a towel. "um. standing's probably easiest to start. maybe just—natural. however you'd normally stand."

"natural how. like this?" he straightens up, shoulders back, doing this exaggerated, stiff superhero pose that's clearly meant to make you laugh.

it works. a small laugh escapes you despite everything. "no, not like that. just—relaxed. like you're not thinking about it."

"hard to not think about it when you're staring at me with a pencil." but he loosens up anyway, settling his weight onto one leg, one hand coming up to rest at the back of his neck. "this work?"

your pencil is already moving before you fully register deciding to start. "yeah. that's—that's good. don't move."

"wasn't planning to." his voice has dropped a little, quieter now, watching you work. "you gonna tell me when the towel needs to come off, or am i supposed to guess."

your pencil stutters against the page. "right. um. whenever you're ready, i guess. it's—it's for the assignment, so."

"so professional," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching like he's fighting back a grin. "okay. you ready?"

"yeah." you swallow, gripping your pencil a little too tight. "ready."

he reaches up and tugs the knot of the towel loose, and it drops to the floor without any of the fanfare your racing heart seems to think the moment deserves. he doesn't flinch, doesn't make a big show of it—just steps back into the same easy stance from before, one hand resting at the back of his neck, weight settled onto one leg, completely at home in his own skin in a way that makes your nerves feel almost silly by comparison.

you keep your eyes on the page for a long moment before you let yourself actually look, telling yourself it's just reference, just anatomy, just the same thing you'd be doing with any model in class.

but it doesn't feel like just anatomy. it feels like every line of him is something you've already know from the sketches you didn't think anyone would see, except now the soft pencil shading has nothing on the real thing—the actual shape of his shoulders, the dip of muscle along his stomach, the lean lines of him standing there like an italian renaissance sculpture.

and god, he's better than you imagined. better than he looked in your head late at night when you couldn't sleep, which—not that you dream about him, obviously, that would be ridiculous, that's not a thing that happens—but if you did, hypothetically, this would still somehow be better than that.

it's almost unfair, really. the way his body looks like it was carved out of stone, like michelangelo himself spent way too long getting the proportions exactly right—shoulders broad and strong, the muscle down his arms, the curve where his waist narrows into his hips.

it's the kind of body you'd expect to see behind glass in a museum somewhere, with a little plaque underneath, except this version breathes and makes dumb jokes.

you let your eyes trace lower, the way you would with any reference, you tell yourself, purely for the sake of the assignment. his cock rests heavy between his thighs, thick and full, and bigger than you thought it would be (not that you'd ever thought about his dick, obviously, that's not a thing you do.)

the head shows a soft flush where it brushes against his leg, and the fair hair trails down from his navel and gathers in pale curls at the base. the sharp v of his hips frames it all in clean lines that make your fingers itch to draw every shadow and curve.

"you still with me?" he says, a little amused, like he's clocked exactly how long you've been staring without actually drawing anything.

"yeah—sorry, yeah." you blink, snapping your eyes back up to his face, pencil finally moving again.

"should i have, like, shaved or something?"

your face goes instantly red all over again. "what? no—it's fine. you're fine. it's not—that's not a thing you need to worry about."

"figured i'd ask." he shrugs. "usually i shave when i've got a girl coming over, but i was running late today, so."

"oh my god." you cover your face with one hand, pencil still somehow managing to keep moving against the page with the other. "i did not need to know that."

"only wanted to clear the air."

you peek at him through your fingers, deciding two can play this game. "so what you're telling me is you haven't had anyone over in a while, huh?"

a short surprised laugh, like he wasn't expecting you to fight back. "wow. okay. didn't think you had it in you. but—i mean, i have someone over now."

"to draw you. that's different."

"you're still seeing my dick or whatever."

"that's not the same thing and you know it."

"feels pretty similar from where i'm standing."

"so, the other girls sit across the room admiring you for twenty minutes with a sketchbook before anything happens? is that what you're telling me?"

"oh, so you're admiring me."

"that's not what i—i meant artistically."

"sure you did."

"i hate you."

"just so you know—they're not usually sitting across the room admiring me for twenty minutes. they're usually under me about thirty seconds after they walk through the door."

"oh my god, satoru."

after another ten minutes or so, your pencil finally slows, then stops altogether, hovering over the last few finishing strokes before you sit back to actually look at what you've got. it's good. better than good—the proportions feel right in a way they never quite did with the strangers from class, like having an actual person in front of you instead of just a body made all the difference.

"okay," you say, clearing your throat. "i think i've got what i need. you can relax."

"oh thank god." he drops the pose immediately, shoulders slumping, rolling his neck out with an exaggerated groan like he's been holding some kind of intense athletic stance this whole time and not just standing there looking effortlessly good. "puhhh. finally. you have no idea how hard it is to stand still that long."

"you literally do athletic training for two hours a day."

"that's different, that's moving. this was just—" he shakes out his arms, grabbing the towel off the floor and wrapping it back around his waist, "—standing there being stared at. way more exhausting than it sounds."

"you're so dramatic."

"i'm a very dedicated model, is what i am." he flops down onto the edge of his bed, finally looking properly relaxed for the first time all evening, then immediately perks back up, craning his neck toward your sketchbook. "okay, lemme see it."

you instinctively pull the book a little closer to your chest. "it's not done done. it's just the reference sketch."

"i don't care, i wanna see." he's already getting up, padding over. "c'mon. i posed for, like, twenty minutes straight. i've earned a peek."

"fine. but you can't make fun of it." you hold the sketchbook out, a little reluctant, watching his face carefully as he leans over to look.

he goes quiet for a second, which is rare enough on its own that you almost want to comment on it. his eyes move slowly over the page, taking in the lines of his own shoulders, the careful shading along his stomach, his easy stance you'd worked so hard to get right.

"huh," he says finally.

"what? is it bad?"

"no, it's—" he tilts his head. "it's really good, actually. like, you made me look good good. not just accurate good."

"that's literally just what you look like."

"i don't know, i feel like you're being generous with the shoulders." but he's smiling now, something a little softer underneath the teasing, still looking at the drawing instead of you. "you're actually talented. like, properly. i wasn't expecting it to be this good."

"you say that like you thought i was bad."

"i didn't know what to expect! you draw secret abs sketches of your friends, forgive me for having questions about your technical skill." but he says it gently, nudging your shoulder with his again, and when he finally looks up at you there's something warm in his expression that wasn't quite there before, something that makes your stomach flip a little. "seriously, though. this is really good. you should be proud of it."

"thanks," you say, feeling a little warm under the actual sincerity of it, fumbling slightly for something to do with your hands besides just standing there basking in gojo satoru's approval like it means something. "i mean, it's still rough. i've gotta clean it up before monday."

"still." he's still looking at it, then glances up at you with a grin starting to spread. "can i take a picture of it?"

"what? why?"

"i don't know, for personal use." he's already reaching for his phone on the nightstand. "this might genuinely be the most insane nude i could ever send to a girl. like, nobody's topping that."

"satoru, oh my god, no." you yank the sketchbook back against your chest, half laughing despite yourself. "you are not sending this to anyone."

"think about it though. any other guy sends a regular picture, basic, boring, zero creativity behind it. i send this and i'm instantly the most romantic man alive." he's grinning, clearly enjoying how flustered you've gotten all over again. "it's basically a love letter. you put thought into this."

"it's an anatomy assignment."

"a very thoughtful anatomy assignment." he reaches for the sketchbook again, more playful than serious about actually taking it. "c'mon, one picture. i won't even send it to anyone. probably."

you let him, mostly because you know arguing further is a losing battle, and he snaps a quick picture before setting his phone back down, looking entirely too pleased with himself about the whole thing.

"okay," he says, dropping back down onto the edge of the bed. "anything else you need from me? more poses, weird angles, you want me to flex my biceps?"

"no, it's fine." you start gathering your things. "i think i stressed you out enough for one night."

"you didn't stress me out." he watches you for a second, head tilted, clearly not buying the way you said that. "spill it."

"what?"

"you've got a face. the 'i want to say something but i'm not gonna' face." he leans back on his hands. "what is it."

you hesitate, fingers tightening slightly around your pencil case. "i mean—maybe we could do one more pose? like, a different angle or something. just so i actually have options when i sit down to finish it properly. i don't wanna hand in the first thing i drew if there's something better i could've gotten."

he blinks, then grins, already pushing himself back up off the bed. "yeah. sure. why not." he rolls his shoulders out, stepping back toward the open space by the window. "you're the artist. tell me where you want me this time."

he settles into the chair this time, leaning back with his head tipped against the top of it, one leg stretched out, the whole thing far more relaxed than the standing pose from before. one hand comes to rest loosely in his lap, fingers resting near his cock without much thought behind it.

"oh, this is way better. way less work than standing there like a statue." he glances down at where his hand landed, a flicker of realization crossing his face, and he laughs a little, shifting like he's about to move it. "oh—sorry, that's just habit. didn't even think about where i put my hand."

"no, it's—" you hesitate, voice catching, face going hot all over again. "it's, um—it's fine. really. genuinely fine. do whatever's, uh—whatever's comfortable for you. i'm not—this isn't a big deal."

he looks at you for a second, like he's checking you actually mean it, then shrugs, settling back into exactly the same position, hand staying right where it was. "okay. if you're sure. i'll stay like this, then."

your pencil is already moving, eyes flicking between him and the page. it takes you a few minutes to notice that he's stopped looking out at nothing and started watching you instead, head tilted slightly against the back of the chair.

"what?"

"nothing." but he doesn't stop watching you. there's something almost soft about the way he's looking at you now, the corner of his mouth pulled into a small smile, like he's caught himself thinking something he wasn't planning on. "you get this face when you're drawing. all scrunched up and serious."

"i do not."

"you so do. little furrow right here." he reaches up, tapping a finger lightly between his own eyebrows to demonstrate, careful not to actually shift out of the pose. "it's kind of cute."

your pencil stutters against the page. "don't move," you mutter, mostly to give yourself something to say that isn't reacting to that.

"i'm not moving."

he settles back again, and keeps watching you. his cock twitches once under his hand where it rests in his lap. he feels the slow thickening start before he can stop it. oh fuck. the words stay stuck in his throat but they echo in his head as he presses his fingers down a little harder. he tries to hold the growing length discreetly against his thigh but it is no use. another twitch makes the head nudge up against his palm.

your pencil pauses on the page. you see it. the subtle flex of his fingers. the unmistakable twitch that makes his cock strain despite the way he tries to keep it down. heat spreads low in your stomach and between your legs so fast it leaves you dizzy.

"sorry about that," he mutters. the flush on his neck deepens and his hand stays pressed over the twitching length like he can will it back down. but it twitches again anyway. slow and heavy and impossible to ignore. "long day, i guess. lot on my mind."

you swallow. "it's fine."

"i don't know, i normally kind of—wind down at night. on my own. you know. guess my body didn't get the memo that tonight's schedule looked a little different."

"oh! uh—i can go," you blurt out, already half reaching for your bag, face burning. "like, seriously, if you need a few minutes or—whatever, i don't want to make this weirder than it already is—"

"no, no, you don't have to go." he sits up a little. "it'll pass. it's fine. i'm fine."

"are you sure? because i really don't mind waiting outside, or coming back tomorrow, or—"

"i'm sure." he gives you a small, almost sheepish smile, the most genuinely embarrassed you think you've ever seen him. "just finish your drawing. i swear i'm not gonna combust."

"okay." you sink back down slowly, still not entirely convinced, sketchbook settling back into your lap. "if you're sure."

"i'm sure." he resettles into the chair, head tipping back again, doing his best to look casual about it even though his ears are still a little red. "c'mon. let's just—finish this. pretend it's a normal tuesday."

"it's friday."

"pretend it's a normal friday, then. work with me here."

you pick your pencil back up, trying to focus on the page instead of the very obvious tension radiating off him from across the room. for a minute or two it almost works, both of you pretending pretty hard that everything's fine.

the quiet stretches between you. you try to keep drawing but your focus slips every time he shifts in the chair. his hand presses down harder in his lap. he is trying to push his cock fully flat against his thigh now. his breathing turns heavy and uneven like he cannot quite catch it. you hear every inhale, every slow exhale. he is getting so worked up just from sitting there while you look at him. his cock under his palm thickens and twitches against his fingers no matter how he tries to hold it still.

then his fingers move slower. deliberate. he touches himself a little. just the barest drag of his thumb along the side like he is checking how hard he is getting. it twitches again under the touch. bigger this time. he presses down quick to try and calm it but it does not help. his breath catches on a low sound he does not quite manage to swallow.

your pencil stops moving. heat floods through you so fast your face burns.

"okay," he says, dragging a hand down his face. "okay, i think i actually need a few minutes this time."

"oh god, yes, okay." you're already on your feet, sketchbook nearly sliding off your lap in your rush. "i'll just—i'll wait outside, or—"

"you can stay." he says it quickly, almost too quickly, like it surprises even him. "i mean—if you want. it won't take long."

"satoru."

"what? i'm just saying, you don't have to leave the building over this."

"i'm not waiting in here while you—"

he does not look away from you as his hand slides back down between his legs. he is already painfully hard. his cock stands thick and flushed in his palm, the head dark and wet at the tip. he wraps his fingers around the length and strokes once slow and tight like he has been holding back for too long.

"i think i like it when you watch," he almost moans.

"i'm gonna—" you don't even finish the sentence, just grab your bag and bolt for the door, nearly tripping over your own backpack strap on the way. "air. i need air. i'll be right back."

"wait! you don't have to run—"

but the door already slams shut behind you, and you stand in the hallway for a solid ten seconds just catching your breath, face burning, heart absolutely pounding, before you let yourself slide down against the wall and bury your face in your hands.

you stay quiet. your breathing slows but your heart does not. then you hear it, muffled through the door. the low rough sound of his voice. a groan, and the wet sound of skin moving on skin. another sound comes through, sharper this time, and a low fuck.

you press your thighs together where you sit on the floor. the noises do not stop. they get a little louder like he has stopped holding back now that you are gone. you can picture it perfectly, his hand moving fast on his thick cock. another groan filters through the door and your body reacts hard, heat flooding between your legs.

you sit there against the wall, staring blankly at the hallway carpet while your brain refuses to move away from his door and not listen to his moans and groans anymore.

how. how are you supposed to look him in the eye after this. how are you supposed to sit across from him in the dining hall next week, or wave at him across campus, or exist in the same general vicinity as gojo satoru ever again without your whole face just instantly catching fire.

you bury your face deeper into your hands, groaning quietly to yourself. it was one thing when it was just sketches. it was even survivable when he found the sketchbook, mortifying as that had been. but this. this is a whole new tier of humiliation you didn't know existed until tonight.

you're going to have to transfer schools. change your name. move to another country, probably. there's no version of monday where you walk into the dining hall and he's there and you don't immediately die on the spot.

somewhere behind the door, things have gone quiet.

you really, really don't want to think about what that means.

From there your social quarantine only escalated—no playdates, no sleepovers, no extracurriculars—unless it was church related. 

Eventually, your childhood friends gave up even trying. You don’t even blame them. With your brick-like fossil Nokia phone you couldn’t even download any social media apps to keep up with them. 

Sure, you’ve technically been a legal adult for a while but for now you’re biding your time until graduation. You’ve already got a full ride to an out-of-state college lined up behind your parents’ backs. So missing out on being blackout drunk in a field somewhere wasn’t exactly tearing you up—there would be many more opportunities in college to drink that didn’t involve trying to dodge cow shit. 

But there IS one thing you definitely feel like you’re missing out on—

Dating.

Boys and dating are two things your parents, especially your mother, would absolutely not tolerate until marriage. 

No exceptions. 

Not even a chaste courtship with Ino—the good-natured, boy-next-door who played acoustic guitar for the church choir—was allowed.

You still cringe thinking about the first (and last) time he bought you a popsicle from the ice cream truck one summer. Of course, your mother snatched it right out of your hands then gave you both a scathing 10-minute lecture on how popsicles are a ‘slippery slope to orally sinning.’

You’d say she put the fear of God into Ino, but honestly?

Ino seemed way more afraid of your mother than of God—especially with the way he’s avoided you like some biblical plague ever since.

Not that you were too heartbroken.

Sure, Ino liked you. Like a lot. 

But you mostly just liked the idea of being liked. 

Still, the fact remains that beggars can’t be choosers and Ino is sweet enough that you would’ve let him be your first kiss. 

With a sigh, you shut your bedroom door—not that it mattered when it didn't even lock.

Your mother has a sixth sense for depravity and always knows the worst possible moment to barge in.

You can’t even goon in peace.

So something perfectly normal for a nineteen-year-old—like a vibrator? Yeah, no. 

You’d never risk bringing one into the house. Your mom wouldn’t just ground you—she’d send you straight back to the Lord himself.

Tossing your hoodie on your desk, you dig through your drawers for your favorite sleep shirt: the faded one that says Crystal Lake Camp.  The yellow, worn cotton is basically the closest thing you own to illicit contraband.

It used to belong to a hot camp counselor at the church-run summer camp your parents dumped you in last year, hoping it would “instill moral character.”

(Spoiler: it didn’t.)

Thankfully, every camper and counselor got the same oversized shirt, so it was easy to swipe Counselor Kashimo’s from the laundry pile without anyone noticing. 

And yeah... you shamelessly didn’t wash it for like a month. Not until the woodsy, storm-soaked scent of the punky, blue-haired hunk faded completely.

Nostalgia clings to it like old cologne as you change and enter your bathroom.

Sigh. Your nightly routine is as dull as ever. Brushing your teeth on autopilot, you rinse and glance up at the mirror. Gaze catching on your reflection, you just stare.

Same tired eyes. Same boring hair. Same pouty lips, still tasting faintly of berry chapstick—untouched by anyone else’s.

Well, anyone real. (Doesn’t hurt to stay ready, though.)

While staring in the mirror you often imagine Suguru Geto—your school’s unnervingly charming student council president—standing behind you, just out of frame. One hand ghosting over your neck, the other trailing down your spine as he leans in to whisper something unhinged in that smooth, reverent voice of his.

You don’t even need to close your eyes to picture it.

You’ve rehearsed this scene so many times before in your dreams you can practically see him in the mirror behind you.

A familiar heat pools low in your belly as you quickly flip off the light and exit the bathroom. 

Eee! You’re so horny—you need to get to bed like asap!

Your panties are already soaked, clinging to your heat as you kill the light and melt into the mattress—settling in like a seasoned whore slipping into her usual spot on the curb, ready for the night.

Daydreams are one thing—but lucid dreams? A whole different beast. 

Vividly visceral, they’re the only place you start living the way you were meant to. There you can flirt like a slut, wear skirts with nothing underneath and kiss boys your mother would definitely deem to be demons.

And in your dreams? They might as well be devils. 

Bending you over desks, pinning you to lockers, in their hedonistic hunger they are too down to stuff you full at the drop of a hat—usually more than one of them at the same time too.

You smile to yourself, already squirming just from thinking about your favorite senior boys who make up the main cast of your delusional dream harem.

First up—

Toji Fushiguro—quarterback of the football team, built like he does prison workouts for fun (which is convenient as prison is exactly where everyone thinks he’ll end up). 

He’s got a sexy scar on his lip, a black ‘67 Impala he calls “Baby” and allegedly a secret kid according to the rumors.

You’re pretty sure he’s repeated a year or two if not flunked out entirely—no one’s ever seen him in a class. Moonlighting as the school’s resident plug, Toji just shows up to deal, wreck the other team on game days and rail a cheerleader in the parking lot before dipping. As long as he keeps winning, no one seems to care.

The only place to reliably spot Toji is at his part-time gig at the local auto shop. You started tagging alone so much your dad thinks you’ve developed an interest in cars—but really, your interest lay in seeing Toji. You know without fail, the second your dad’s back is turned, Toji will tower over you wearing that deadly smirk and ask if you need anything “checked under the hood” while he licks his thumb like he’s prepping it just for you.

He’s grimy and disgusting. 

Far beneath any self-respecting standards of the modern woman.

And yet? 

You’d let him raw dog secret baby #2 into you—no questions asked.

Even so, you could only imagine the shotgun marriage your parents would force upon you so a much safer option would be…

Gojo Satoru—the basketball star that’s six feet of snowy-haired chaos with dazzling crystalline eyes and a mouth that never shuts up. 

He has no concept of the term “inside voices” and half of what he says is utter nonsense. Yet somehow the devastatingly attractive goofball still manages to be the school’s resident heartthrob.

Once you ran into him while he was skipping class on your way back from the bathroom. Thinking he’d ignore you, you were completely blindsided when he complimented your Digimon keychain like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen—right before having the audacity to ask if he could borrow your hall pass.

And of course—like the absolute simp you are—you handed it over without a second thought before he could even finish the question.

Pleased, Gojo purred out a thanks with a wink, tongue peaking out between his lips

And then you blacked out. 

No, seriously—like full-on collapsed. 

You came to twenty minutes later in the nurse’s office with a goose egg on your forehead and Gojo looming over you amused as fuck at you giving him an actually legit reason to skip class.

Now he calls you ‘anemic girl’ in the halls and occasionally tosses you a hard candy like you’re some random stray he adopted. He’s given you 16 so far and you’ve kept every single one—carefully hoarded like relics—in a shoebox shrine under your bed. 

Obviously.

Although there is never a dull moment around Gojo’s chaotic energy, sometimes you crave a little order. Someone more on the straight and narrow to keep you on track. Someone like…

Nanami Kento—head of the disciplinary committee. 

Nanami is the only senior who people sometimes mistake for an actual teacher as he dresses like he already has 3 kids and holds down a grueling 9-to-5. One thing is for sure though, those khaki slacks that Nanami wears are most definitely working overtime as they have absolutely no business showing off just how double-cheeked up he is (and still being within the dress code). 

Nanami carries a clipboard stacked with half-pre-filled detention slips like he’s just waiting for someone to fuck up. His moral compass is so rigid it could be registered as a weapon. 

And if the outline in his pants is any indication—so could his dick.

One morning, you were sprinting through the halls, already late, when Nanami caught you. Flushed and fumbling, you spat out some half-baked excuse about helping a teacher.

Nanami didn’t blink. Just stared right through you like he’d already clocked your piss-poor lie and filed it and you under ‘pathetic’.

Yet in a rare show of mercy, noting your otherwise perfect attendance, he simply adjusted his glasses and let you off with a cool, “don’t let it happen again.” 

You could’ve cried in relief—which, in hindsight, would’ve been way less humiliating.

Instead, nerves had you whimpering out a needy, “Y-Yes, sir.”

It was the one time you ever saw him falter—just briefly—before he smoothed it over, raising a single brow. But the faint curl of his smirk and the darkening heat in his eyes as he turned away nearly brought you to your knees.

You would’ve gladly taken in-school detention and correction right then and there—which, unfortunately, left you fantasizing whether Nanami detentions come with safewords.

Still, there were times when the thought of answering to anyone in your already sheltered life felt suffocating—and that’s when you craved someone more free-spirited. Enter...

Choso Kamo—the art freak burnout with a facetat, who’s always “getting air” behind the gym with the other stoners, the smell of weed and acrylic paint always trailing behind him.

Notorious for that pale, sleepless Edward Cullen look, Choso’s eyebags all but screamed he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since leaving the womb. And if expecting him to sparkle didn’t keep you staring at him more than the whiteboard during class, the way he toys with his labret piercing using his tongue barbell definitely did the trick.

You’ve watched him do it enough during fifth period to know—deep in your depraved little soul—that he eats pussy like it’s his last fucking meal.

But the most disarming thing about him? 

That brooding emo-boy exterior melts into golden retriever sweetness any time he talks about his younger siblings.

Surprisingly sentimental, you once caught him tearing up at his locker over a crayon drawing his little brother Yuji hid in his lunch bag, along with the message to—“half a gud dae at skool :)” scrawled in glitter gel pen. When you handed him a tissue, he looked up at you with glassy puppy-dog eyes and whispered a broken, “Thanks,” like you’d just saved his life.

You can’t decide if you want to wreck him or swaddle him but either way?

Choso is your Roman Empire.

And finally…

Suguru Geto—class president. What healthy ovulating girl didn’t want Suguru?

Smart, commanding and terrifyingly magnetic—Suguru’s morning announcements feel more like political rallies. He’s got the presence of a world leader and the aptitude of someone who’d absolutely start a murderous apocalyptic sex cult. 

One that you’d be first in line to pledge yourself to, collar, chains and all.

Especially when he smiles that polite, unnervingly deliberate smile. 

Geto is always top of the class. Always ten steps ahead. 

Like he could correctly guess the color of your panties—and then know exactly how to talk you out of them for "the cause."

Your parents might’ve put you off religion, but you’d still worship at his altar any day of the week—even if he was Damien in the flesh, horns tucked beneath that gorgeous spill of raven hair. 

One time during an assembly, Suguru stated that, “devotion breeds obedience”—while staring dead at you.

Your panties haven’t been dry since.

All-in-all, with such a powerful teen dream starting lineup, of course it made the perfect sleepy-time goon fodder

Or at least—it used to.

Then the deaths started.

Peculiar ones. Grotesque in that slasher-movie kind of way that even left investigators rattled. 

Too violent to be self-inflicted, yet no signs of forced entry, no murder weapon, no DNA—no trace of anything, really.

Like their dreams themselves were killing them.

The few who survived long enough to wake up? None of them stayed sane. Every single one was institutionalized. And all of them raving about the same thing: A pink-haired monster who crawled into their heads and twisted their worst fears into blood-soaked nightmares.

The only thing anyone could confirm? It only happens while asleep. 

And it wasn’t just at night either.

A girl in your Biology lab—Riko—nearly jammed a scalpel into her own temple, convinced there was a giant bug burrowing into her brain.

She would’ve done it too, if class president Suguru hadn’t reacted fast enough—snatching her wrist and shaking her awake just in time.

Soon all over town, whispered rumors and wild theories began spreading like wildfire.

The cops blamed a new wave of hallucinogenic drugs. 

Churchgoers (your mother included) pointed fingers at violent video games and action movies.

But the older folks, the ones who’d lived here long enough to know where the skeletons of the town were buried, blamed something else entirely—a curse. 

An ancient and particularly malevolent one at that.

The local folklore of the town’s founding told of a vengeful spirit—one from an evil man from nearly a thousand years ago who could control the souls of others. 

One who was burned, quartered and his body sealed away for his blasphemous sorcery. 

Supposedly, he wasn’t even from the area and among the founding settlers of your town were the guardians of the sealed parts and they scattered his remains across it.

But these were just stories. Just silly hoodoo.

Or it was until Yu Haibara died. The pastor’s son. 

Bright, kind and beloved with no moral vices nor enemies to blame—that’s when the fearful frenzy truly hit. 

Yet somewhere in all the chaos, someone suggested a desperate, off-the-cuff fix—Dreamless sleep.

And shockingly? 

It worked.

The deaths stopped. Just like that.

Naturally, what followed was a strict curfew along with mandatory, state-distributed, sleeping pills were handed out to every teen in town. The heavy stuff—the kind that shoved you right past REM and into a dreamless, black void.

No dreams meant no monsters. 

No monsters? No mysterious murders.

Unfortunately for you, it also meant no wet dreams.

It’s been almost a week since your last one and you’re on the verge of crashing tf out. 

Forget killer nightmares—at this point, it’s the built‑up tension in your core that feels lethal.

Your one escape—poof, gone. Just like that.

God, you miss getting railed in every depraved way your real life refuses to allow.

Unlike the rest of the town—currently drowning in shared hysteria—you’re keeping your head. 

Thankfully, you literally just covered something like this in your psych textbook.

To you, the “dream murders” sound like a perfect storm of sleepwalking, mass panic and one very real killer no one’s caught yet. You’re not about to knock yourself unconscious any longer while everyone else plays catch‑up.

So tonight? You don’t take the pill.

The second your mother’s back is turned, you spit it into your mint tin for safekeeping.

You’d flush them, but hey—never know when they’ll come in handy. 

Maybe once this all blows over, you’ll spike your parents’ nightly chamomile and finally sneak out. 

Toji did say to stop by if you were ever in need of a tune‑up… and you wouldn’t mind letting him pop your hood—among other things.

Settling deeper into your pillows, you release a few cleansing breaths. You’re too eager to see who your subconscious picks tonight—or maybe something more collaborative?

Yeah.

A gangbang sounds like the perfect ‘welcome back’. Every hole and limb filled, twisted into tools of pleasure, used exactly like the desperate little slut you are.

With a hum you close your eyes and allow your mind to drift into sleep. There’s no way you could’ve known that the thing haunting this town wasn’t just real—it had locked onto you the moment your brain dared to fall into REM.

Inside of your dream world, you awake in the boys' locker room.

Nice. 

Looks like you’re getting that gangbang after all.

Although you're no stranger to the boys’ locker room in your dreams, something about this time feels off.

The rows of lockers stretch farther than they should, looming taller, their metal faces dull and streaked with grime. Overhead, the lights flicker with a  jaundiced glow, casting jagged shadows across pale concrete walls. The air buzzes with the sputter of dying ventilation and reeks of damp metal, mold, and something almost bloody.

Technically, it’s the same room. But it feels... wrong.

Too quiet. Too empty. Like a space between spaces.

Then again, it is the boys’ locker room—nobody expects it to smell like a field of lilies.

Then you glance down at your outfit.

No cheer skirt. No pom-poms.

No thigh-highs, chokers, or themed S&M ensemble.

Just the ratty Camp Crystal Lake sleep shirt you passed out in.

Yeah… that’s definitely not normal.

“Hey, cutie…”

Oh! 

Eagerly, you shove the weird vibes to the back of your mind the second you hear a familiar voice echo behind you. The setting was never the main event in your dreams anyway—you’d fuck on a cardboard box in an alley if the dick was good.

“…ya know you’re not supposed to be in here.”

Fresh off the court and glistening, Gojo rakes a hand through the messy white strands clinging to his forehead. With the other, he lifts the hem of his jersey just enough to wipe the sweat from his face.

“…but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Your eyes trail down his exposed waist, savoring the definition of his glistening abs. You follow them as they dip into a deep V-line, the waistband of his shorts hanging dangerously low, teasing tufts of well-kept fuzz.

Gojo chuckles, clearly enjoying the way you’re eye-fucking him like he’s girl dinner.

“See something you like, doll?”

He winks.

Thank god you never pass out in dreamland, although you do erupt in shameless giggles out of glee of seeing Gojo.

Of all your guys lately, Gojo’s been showing up the most—your unofficial dream boyfriend. 

So you’ve gotten used to this version of him—Dreamjo, as you’ve dubbed him.

No doubt nerfed by your subconscious, your brain probably built this version of him off that one time he called your Digimon keychain “sick as hell”—which means the man has serious dork potential.

Real-life Gojo? A walking ego-trip in Airforces.

Dreamjo? Still cocky, but also nerdy and endlessly down bad.

And you do mean endlessly.

Whether he’s center stage or getting gleefully cucked by the rest of your lineup, he plays his part.

So no—you’re not even a little mad that he’s the first to greet you after your dream drought.

“You missed my game again.” Gojo pouts, swaggering toward you until your back hits the lockers with a hollow clang. “Hard to focus on the court without my lucky charm in the stands... dressed like my personal guardian angel in that slutty Angewomon cosplay.”

You roll your eyes.

You’ve never actually worn the cosplay—even in your dreams. It’s just one of those weird lore bits your subconscious cooked up for him and now Dreamjo won’t let it go. 

But that’s part of the fun—letting your mind run wild, turning fantasy into fact.

Whatever. This is your dream.

Your rules.

And Dreamjo? He always falls in line.

“Urgh, just shut up and fuck me, Toru!” 

You mean it to sound commanding—but it comes out breathy, desperate and you can’t keep up the femdom act for long.

“C’mon… let’s hit the showers. You’re already filthy.” You whine as your hands roam his sweat-slick abs, fingers slipping under his jersey to grope at his pecs.

Gojo groans, gripping your waist, before dipping lower to mold his hands into your fleshy bare bottom.

“Mmm, so you did miss me…” His voice is hot against your ear, lips brushing your lobe before he nips at it. “Y’know it’s been even longer for me... especially since you cucked me last time.”

If you weren’t already feral, that line might’ve given you pause—lore aside, your dreams always reset. 

But you’re so hard up your brain automatically switches off when his long fingers ghost over your already soaked folds.

Your mouth crashes on his, hungry and impatient, making Gojo groan into the kiss. Lifting you with ease, he carries you toward the showers.

Expecting to be pinned to a tile wall with steamy water pouring over you—you blink in confusion when Gojo sets you on a bench, a wild gleam in his eyes.

“Aht-aht… I’m the messy one, baby. But you’re not dirty enough for a shower. Not yet, at least.”

Great. Even your own mind is edging you.

Not that you don’t love Dreamjo’s games—his teasing is half the fun. But tonight? 

You’re wound far too tight to mess around.

“C’mon, princess. Get nasty for me, please? And I’ll fuck you just how you like it.”

You pout for show but of course, you already know what he wants. Dreamjo’s wired into the most crazed parts of your subconscious afterall.

Gojo peels off his jersey and tosses it at you.

Catching it on reflex, the jersey is damp with sweat and adrenaline. You don’t hesitate to pull your own top off and slide it on instead. 

Urgh, the oversized fabric soaked in jock pheromones feels clammy and damp against your skin. Sick. 

And yet somehow your pussy’s even wetter than before as you bury your nose in the material, inhaling like it’s life support.

“That’s it,” Gojo breathes, voice thick as he palms his cock through his shorts. “Take a nice, lonnnnng whiff, babydoll.”

Gojo’s musky amber scent hits like a slap: the tang of salt and heat with an undercurrent of something primal. You squirm on the bench, thighs rubbing together, belly molten with slow, coiling heat.

“Heh, now turn around and show me how messy my nasty girl’s pussy gets sniffing my musty jersey.” 

You think about mouthing off, maybe rolling your eyes—but the way his scent is sinking into your skin brain makes it impossible to deny him anything.

“Toruuuuu….” You whimper out complaints, but you obey—because the sheer depravity of it only makes you more desperate to be fucked.

Turning around, knees digging into the bench, you lift Gojo’s jersey around your hips.

The basketball hunk whimpers out a moan as you arch—back bowed, cunt spread—two fingers parting your folds. A thick string of slick drips from you, glossy and obscene, smearing on the bench beneath you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the sight of his shorts hitting the floor—his cock already leaking globs of pre as he strokes himself slowly, eyes glued to the gorgeous mess between your thighs.

“C’mon, my pretty goonette princess…” Gojo as groans his own need seeps through. “T-Touch yourself…”

Turning back around to face the lockers, your fingers circle your fluttering hole, gathering creamy juices to smear on your clit. 

“S’toruuu c’mon… am I not wet enough for you yet.” You slur out his name, trembling with raw need to feel his thick cock inside you.

Exposed to the air, you squirm, the cool draft making your muscles spasm as you fight to keep yourself spread.

“Jus’ a second, doll…,” Gojo pants out. He’s so close now you can feel his warm breath tickle your soppy folds, “...lemme get a better look.”

The sounds of a lewd schlick-schlick, fill the room as Gojo fists his cock. You’re tempted to groan remembering how stupid sensitive he is—almost as bad as Dreamcho (Choso)—who often busted from just one look at your sloppy pussy. 

Gojo better not fuck around and cum before actually stuck his dick in you.

“Hurry up, ’Toru n’ fuck me before you c—”

You freeze as warm liquid splashes your backside as wet gurgles bubble up behind you.

He came.

Urgh fuck—fine. 

You’re taking matters into your own hands now. You’ll just have to ride his twitchy, oversensitive cock until it’s hard again, no matter how much he cries or begs for mercy.

Wait. You’re cooking, not a bad plan, all things considered.

As much as you wanted to be manhandled, bent over and used like his personal onnahole—there’s something equally delicious about wrecking Satoru. Riding him half-hard while he sobs under you, limbs quivering from overstimulation, his cock slipping in and out of your creamy cunny before you grind your clit against the feathery soft hair on his pubic bone.

Yup, you’ll take it—you’re still gonna give him plenty shit about it though.

“Toruuuu! You dummy, I told you not to—” 

Whipping around, you stop when you don’t see him. 

He’s gone.

What?! He was just right behind you!

Wiping a hand over your backside, you roll your eyes when your fingers come back slicked in thick red liquid.

Blood.

Oh. My. God—did that dork seriously get a nosebleed before even putting it in again!?

Well… wouldn’t be the first time the little perv squirted blood mid-thrust trying not to cum too fast.

But where the hell did he go?

Not like you can see anything now with steam rolling in the area like a tsunami, swallowing everything until the whole room’s bathed in a sickly haze.

Looking around frantically you spot it: a single bloody footprint leading deeper into the locker room.

Okay. That’s way too much blood for a nosebleed.

Your stomach tightens.

“S’toru?” you call, voice pitching high. “It’s okay, I’m not mad! Wouldn’t be the first time you bled all over me…”

Shit. Maybe the sleeping pills are still in your system, messing with your ability to lucid dream. Or maybe your poor, dick-deprived subconscious has finally snapped.

Okay. This dream is officially a bust.

And with nothing to show for all that buildup with Gojo, there’s no way in hell you can stay still. Your hips rock against the bench, chasing friction like a dog in heat.

No, girl—focus!

You sit up, close your eyes, force a breath.

With a shaky sigh, your fingers snake back between your thighs—just a few light circles. Just enough to quiet the needy throb at your clit so you can concentrate.  

“Okay. Malaysia. Beach. Gangbang. Any guy—go!” You chant it under your breath like a spell.

Nevertheless when you open your eyes, you’re still in the same musty old locker room full of steam.

Fuck. Well at least the blood’s gone.

But Satoru is too, every single trace as realize you’re right back in your old sleep shirt.

What the actual fuck!?

BANG!

You jump as a loud crash echoes from the far entrance near the football field. 

Heavy footsteps drag as the sound of metal screeches like nails on a chalkboard.

“Toji?!” you call out. Though your gut’s already telling you that’s no football cleat.

The steps stop.

Silence.

The hiss of steam thickens it’s angrier and choking what little visibility you have left in front of you.

BAM!

A locker slams shut—closer this time.

You squeak, heart jackhammering... but your fingers don’t stop.

They move faster now, shaking with horny panic, the tension somehow is making you even hotter.

God, you just want some cock is that too much to ask!?

“T-Tojiiii…daddy? Is that you? I’m really pent up—come fuck n’ me already…”

Still no answer.

Fuck—maybe if you could just get off a lil, maybe you could reset this weird dream spiral?

“Toji, stop playing around! I’m serious—I’ll…urgh, I’ll even eat your ass this time…how does that sound?!” 

Yeah, you were getting pretty fucking desperate alright if eating that caveman’s ass was now on the table.

A low growl resounds through the locker room just as the lights above stutter—then flicker violently.

Then—

Blackout.

Every bulb dies at once… except one.

It buzzes overhead, flickering weakly, drowning you in static and shadows. A singular light casts you in rouge.

The rest of the room disappears into heavy black fog.

Unnerving? Sure.

BUT—the red haze reminds you of something. 

That sleazy adult video store you snuck into when your parents allowed you to visit your aunt’s place in the city for your bday—who, frankly, didn’t give a single rat’s ass what a nineteen-year-old got up to.

The place was sensory overload—neon buzzing like a live wire, shelves of sex toys and cursed DVDs. You remember the sticky faux‑leather peep booth seat, the moaning through the wall—and that flicker of real flesh on the other side of the viewfinder.

And now?

It’s like you’re the star. On display. Center stage. 

And the idea of one of your dream boys dragging you into a sleazy backroom for a “demo”… yeah, you’re already dripping for it.

Your fear slips the leash, devoured by the hunger igniting in your core.

Well you might as well put on a show then!

Your frame control is shaky, but you force it—closing your eyes and gritting your teeth until it appears in your hand: a long, fat, ridged pink dildo. It’s curved just right for maximum g-spot stimulation and features a giant knot sitting atop two heavy balls at the base.

Sigh. It’s a start.

“Looks like I’ll just have to fuck myself againnnn, if no one wants to put their big fat cock in my wet lil holeeee!” you shout into the haze, voice frustrated with need.

Equipped too with a suction at the bottom, you hurriedly slam it down onto the metal bench as you straddle it. Steeling yourself, thighs trembling, you sink down—inch by greedy inch—until a desperate moan tears from your gut. 

You’re being extra loud on purpose, hoping someone hears. Anyone.

Oh sweet relief! The ridges scrape perfectly along your walls. Building up more pleasure, you tweak your nipples, moaning again as they stiffen with every flick.

Not enough. 

Dropping your hips hard, the toy slides in deep with a wet, obscene squelch, knot popping past your entrance, stretching you wide.

“Mother-fuck!”

Spasming around it, you feel a wave of release rippling through you. 

But even gasping, hunched over on the bench, your thighs clenching—

You wouldn’t be satisfied with mere solo play.

“Slutty ass nerd, ya mean you couldn’t even wait f’er me, ma?”

Relief washes over you—Toji!

Oh thank fuck!

Finally, sweet salvation. 

Wet from the showers, water carving down golden skin and sculpted muscle to soak into the towel slung low on his hips, tented over his girth. 

He looks positively delectable coming out of the fog.

And unlike Dreamjo, Dreamji didn’t fuck around—he just fucked.

Except… something’s wrong again.

Argh! You try to shove the thought away—desperate to stay in the moment—but then you see it. 

The scar.

It’s on the left.  It’s supposed to be on the right.

You’re not Toji.

The second the thought crystallizes, the illusion ruptures.

To your horror, Toji's skin begins to bubble like wax in a furnace, melting off in thick, gleaming globs. His flesh is sloughing off from the bone, muscles bulging as his left side bursts open, a chuck missing from his torso. 

You scream, unable to move—still speared on the knotted toy, legs paralyzed. Your hands fly to your face, eyes clenched shut like a child praying the monster away.

The air fizzes with something sinister as you fight to reboot your dream once more.

Yet when you dare peek one eye open.

The locker room is normal again. 

Pristine and silent, no corpse, no red blood nor haze.

But your heart seizes as realization sinks that you are not alone.

A foreign presence consumes the room. It’s overwhelmingly oppressive. 

For a moment you struggle to even breathe under its weight. 

Then a voice cuts through the silence, soaked in venomous delight that grips you in feat.

“Figures the only other person in this pathetic town who knows how to control their dreams is a filthy little whore.”

A masculine figure steps into view. 

There’s a bleeding red aura clinging to him as he looms above the lockers—eight feet of muscle and malice—shoulders squared beneath a haori that drapes from him prominently like a war banner. His chest is bare, skin the color of desert stone, marred with old scars and writhing with black markings—symmetrical, like incantations meant to cage something.

There’s just too much of him. Too much presence. Too much mass. Too many arms. 

Wait—four? Four!?

You count again, just to be sure—fuck. 

Yep. Still four. Each one outfitted with razor sharp claws too.

Yet most striking of all is his face—almost beautiful in a twisted, uncanny way. Four fiery crimson eyes glower down at you. Two in the right place. Two more set in a mangled, flesh-twisted mask along his right cheekbone.

Buffer than Toji. 

Taller than Gojo. 

More tattoos than Choso.

And with a commanding presence that would put both Nanami and Geto to shame.

Oh, this creature is giving major demon daddy vibes …and is that?

Holy Shit.

Your eyes widen at the monstrous grin stretching across his stomach—teeth jagged like carved ivory, lips peeled back around an obscenely meaty, drooling tongue.

Okay….This is definitely not where you thought the dream was going.

Your imagination is good—but this? 

This had to be aftereffects from the pills. You haven’t even been allowed to watch enough sci‑fi or fantasy to dream of something this elaborate.  

But one thing’s for certain—you abso-fucking-lutely have a monster-fucking kink now.

Sukuna growls as he stalks forward toward you, moving in the space like gravity bends for him alone.

“One, two…Sukuna the Curse King’s coming for you.”

Releasing a shrill cry, your pussy pulses feverishly around the dildo inside of you—shit you almost came from just looking at him—omg, how humiliating! (although you now sympathize a bit more with Dreamjo and Dreamcho).

Watching you wiping spittle off of your chin, with damn-near hearts in your eyes, Sukuna’s upper lip curls as he feels your fear lessening the closer he gets.

“Couthless woman.” Sukuna sneers. “Did you hear what the fuck I said?”

You nod rapidly, biting your lip, every nerve in your body screaming for you to run is easily overpowered by your pussy practically sobbing for you to stay.

“Uh‑huh,” you breathe excitedly, eyes still focused on that vulgar looking tongue flicking out from his stomach, “I, uh—something about you… cumming in me?”

Sukuna stops dead in his tracks, blinking with all four eyes.

“…You—What? No, whore. I said I’m coming for you, brat—as in I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Lost in your arousal, your dream brain doesn’t register the actual threat—it just chalks it up to your slutty-ass subconscious cooking up its most diabolical scenario yet.

Guess you weren’t so immune to the hysteria after all, well might as well enjoy it.

“Yeah—demon daddy, mmm fuck—murder this pussy!” you moan, desperate to swap the  plastic for cock inside you for a real one.

If the rest of him was any indication, his dick would be like a goddamn tree trunk. 

Oh you’d break for sure. 

You can’t wait!

“Demon?” Sukuna snarls, eyes flashing. “I’m a curse, you insolent brat.”

With a lazy flick of his claw, a gash splits open across your thigh.

The pain hits instantly. You scream as blood gushes—hot, thick, and far too real.

“Keh. Figures,” Sukuna sneers. “Bet if I cracked open that slutty little skull, all that’d ooze out is cum.”

A white-hot bolt of agony surges through you leaving your nerves tangled in something raw and electric. Confusion coils tight in your gut as the pain on some level feels exhilarating. 

Shit. Knife play too? Really?

You’d laugh at your ever-expanding kink list if you weren’t seconds from blacking out.

The pain doesn’t fade, it gets worse.

No dream logic. No mercy failsafe. Nothing kicks in to soothe it.

Okay, this is getting a lil too real. 

Frantic, you clamp your eyes shut, trying to force him out. Force the pain away.

But it’s still there—throbbing louder, sharper, deeper.

There's a siren blaring through your soul. Telling you something’s pushing in, peeling apart your dream from the inside out, cracking open your subconscious like a ribcage.

And the more you resist, the more it hurts.

Your breath falters. Your chest tightens.

All that shit you brushed off—the whispers, the rumors, the monster hiding in the dreams?

It’s real.

“Bingo, you ditzy whore,” Sukuna purrs evilly. “Finally catching on? If I kill you here—in your dream—you die for real.”

Your eyes fly open, breath hitching. 

He’s inside your thoughts too?!

“Of course I am.” Sukuna’s grin widens.  

“If I can crawl into these vapid, dick-obsessed dreams of yours, I can root around wherever else I like as well. There’s nothing you can hide from me.” 

Those last words bypass your ears entirely—hot and sticky, slithering straight into the depths of your mind.

“I don’t just know your fears... I bathe in them.”

Well damn…

“Ahhh, so you get it now,” Sukuna drawls, laughter echoing off the lockers. 

“You’re fucked—and not the kind you’re so desperate for. But don’t fret. One of us’ll enjoy it, pet. I’ll take my time… peeling the ski—”

“Wait!” You throw your hands up—palms out, halting.

“Sorry—, not to interrupt but... speaking of fucked...,” you cut in, words tumbling as your brain trips over the spiral it's in. “Just walk with me here—let’s say you did actually fuck me—would I lose my v-card in real life too?”

Sukuna stops. Not dramatically. Not ominously. Just... stops. 

His whole face slackens in unfiltered disgust that anyone could have terminal brainrot to this degree without quite literally being braindead. 

To add insult to injury, you simply blink up at him in earnest, like you actually expected him to take that obscene drivel seriously. 

You had to be categorically insane.

Sukuna grits his teeth. “Exactly what in the fuck is wrong with you, woman?”

You have to fight to suppress a giggle at that—beacause honestly?

A lot.

But you do not have the time—nor emotional bandwidth—to unpack all of that right now. Not when the only problem you care about is still leaking so audaciously around the knotted dildo still lodged inside of you.

“Look, uh, Sukuna, right? This cut sucks,” you wince poking at it, “but I’m still not totally sure you’re real. I’m like, 85–90% there.”

You cross your arms, unconvinced. “There’s just this stubborn little 10% whispering that I made you up to rail me. I mean… there’s a mouth on your tummy for crying out loud! Why else would you have a tongue that big if I’m not supposed to ride it!?”

Sukuna exhales sharply through his nose, resisting the urge to slam his head into the nearest locker.

You have no idea how powerful your dreams are. Consuming your soul would amount to dozens of others. Your subconsciousness is a loaded weapon—and you’ve turned it into a hedonistic fuck circus, it’s pitfull. 

“It’s to tear the flesh off the bones of women and children before I devour them.”

Sukuna roars, the sound shaking the lockers with unseen force. The mouth on his stomach splits wider—dagger-like teeth bared, tongue thrashing like a whip—clearly meant to terrify you.

Unfortunately for him, all it does is make you cream harder around the dildo as you tilt your head, genuinely considering it.

“Mmm. Yeah, okay I can see that too—but it honestly looks wayyyyy better suited to devouring pussy and breeding children, Curse Daddy.”

Curse Daddy!?

Sukuna lets out a guttural snarl as his aura lashes out in fury—but it’s no use.

If he had the power to kill your infuriating ass, he would’ve done it ten minutes ago. 

But it’s been a week since he last fed.

The whole town’s gone dark—one big dreamless dead-zone.

And you?

Even with fear buzzing under your skin, your brain short-circuits the second you look at him. There’s no room for survival instincts in that slutty little head of yours. 

Just one thought on loop:

What his monstrous tongue, thick n’ velvety, would feel like thrashing inside of your pussy, flicking at your cervix.

For once, the Curse King is at a loss.

He’s fed on nightmares for centuries. 

Roamed the minds of tyrants, zealots, serial killers—hell, even a few professional whores.

But never—not once—has he met a creature so catastrophically, proudly down bad.

Did you never leave your house?!

“With my mom? Tuh. I’m lucky she lets me go to school,” you snort, catching his thoughts.

You grin as his face falters.

“Figured if you’re poking around in my brain, I could poke around in yours. It’s called home field advantage, Curse Daddy. You’re in my dream, remember?”

Malice hums in the air and the tile beneath Sukuna’s feet cracks.

But you don’t flinch.

Because Sukuna has already said too much and upon that confirmation the power dynamics decidingly shift. 

“Anyway, judging by how much this fucking leg hurts, I’m bumping you up to a solid 99.9% real. And since you’ve already murdered your way through half this shithole town, you already know how ass-backwards it is.”

You press on. 

“Hate to break it to you, Curse King—but your reign of terror? Yeah, that’s over. Everyone’s doped up on prescription elephant tranquilizers. Nobody’s dreaming about anything anymore.”

Sukuna growls something under his breath about modern bullshit—how no tincture or herb in his time ever blocked dreams, only enhanced them.

“I’m SAYIN’!” You throw your hands up, equally annoyed. “We need our dreams!  I haven’t been properly fucked in a week and it’s starting to show!”

Your leg throbs, pulsing hard enough to break your focus. 

Wincing, you groan and slowly lean forward, using the leverage of your body weight to slide off the dildo. There’s a salacious pop that echoes once you are free of it, catching Sukuna’s attention as his eyes track the tantalizing trail of slick shimmering as it drip-drops down your plush thighs.

Indecorous slut.

Yet staring a moment too long, Sukuna’s eyes immediately flick to your face. 

Oop, busted! You smirk. “Anyway, if you’re really just a dream demo—”

“Dream curse,” Sukuna sneers. “I’m The Curse King, you crude little cumdump.”

“Right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. 

Big difference. 

“So, as I was saying—If you kill me, you lose your only power source. You feed off nightmares—but you’re still standing here, aren’t you? That means you can survive in normal dreams too. So if I’m gone then you’ll fade away, huh?”

You cross your legs and fold your hands in your lap, playing fake diplomat which leaves Sukuna scowling at you harder.

“Let’s cut a deal, then!”

Sukuna narrows his gaze but allows you to continue, he had little choice otherwise.

“I let you squat in my dreams—for now. But no nightmares. No trying to murder me nor anyone else, seems fair, right?” 

Sukuna scoffs at you, all four of his arms crossing. “Tell me why the fuck would I want to squat in some horny brat’s cock-crazed delusions?”

“Because you’d be alive, jackass! Uh.. and maybe…” You clear your throat. “...maybe I could make it worth your while?”

Sukuna glares at you menacingly, seeing your pathetic attempts at tempting him.

“If I have to suffer, so do you,” he snarls. “And you think, someone as powerful as I would stoop to fucking some sad twitchy virgin who’s desperate for male validation?”

Biting your inner cheek, you bristle, your hands clenching into fists as you stand to face him, bare and bloodied.

“I never said I wanted your approval, you dream creeper!”

Sukuna laughter is full of dark amusement. 

“No, you didn’t—and yet that vulgar ass cunt of yours is practically penning me a puddle of love poems every time you glance at my stomach.”

You don’t need to look down to know he’s right. 

Yet the vibes are still undoubtedly set to ‘fuck this guy’ as your indignation builds.

“You’re nothing but a fraud, you know that!?” 

Rage, arousal, and defiance crackle through you like live wires.

“You couldn’t kill me even if you tried. You’re too weak. You’re nothing but a big sad bully,” you snap. 

“And now that I have an idea of how this whole dream shit works—you don’t even scare me anymore!”

In a flash Sukuna is in front of you. The size-difference apparent as his body dwarfs yours and all light cast upon you. 

“So do what you want. Cry. Brood. Fap in the corner for all I care!”

Your determination only grows stronger as you stand your ground, finally assuming your the title of deity of your own subconscious domain.

“Fuck you, because after I fix this leg and I’m going and getting my shit wrecked like I should have been doing all along!”

Because god knows how much time has actually passed—you might have to wake up soon!

You challenge Sukuna, eying him up and down. “And that's worse right? Sentenced to rot slowly, not quite dead but wholly dismissed in the mind of a ‘silly little slut’ who you couldn’t even scare enough to kill.” 

For a moment it’s quiet, only your huffs of exertion filling the space.

Then, just as suddenly, the room shakes more violently than before as rows of lockers begin to explode in shockwaves, the ceiling cracking like it might collapse entirely.

Through the chaos and rubble, Sukuna’s eyes glow sharply, locked on your form. 

“I’ll kill you yet,” he hisses, “That’s a promise.”

Ignoring him, you fling open the door of a mangled locker that has fallen on its side. 

What pours out is an otherworldly light, bright and swirling, reshaping into a portal to the deeper parts of your mind where your real sex-crazed dreams await you.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you blow him a kiss.

“Try it then, Curse King. Let’s see whose kingdom this really is.”

And with that, you step through—the portal vanishing along with you.

The realm rapidly dissolving, Sukuna seethes in the crumbling dark.

“Fucking brat.”

               all rights reserved. blkkizzat©2023-2026

𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼? then please 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 or 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠! you can also join my gen. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 or contribute to the 𝐛𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐨$𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐝.

ꉂ a/n: i will release p2 of plug!reader (final edits), incel!naoya, elevator p2 and then come back to this before working on invisible man!gojo. [if i didnt mention it no im not working on it right at this second, yes i do plan to finish it, please don't bug me about it :) ]

II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )

higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.

frankly, you’re the worst paralegal he’s had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he can’t help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!

you’re much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didn’t reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled ‘sorry!’ and ‘meet me downstairs for some apology head ;)’. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.

so he decides he’ll teach you himself.

Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: Higuruma Hiromi

To: [L/N], [Y/N]

Y/N,

Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.

Regards,

Higuruma Hiromi

—

Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: [L/N], [Y/N]

To: Higuruma, Hiromi

Counselor,

Are you threatening me with a complaint? I’m just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so I’d be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when you’d like me to drop in and fix those files!

Regards,

Y/N L/N

—

Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: Higuruma, Hiromi

To: [L/N], [Y/N]

Y/N,

You can come fix it now. And then I’m going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache you’re deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. I’m a very patient man, but even I have limits.

Higuruma Hiromi.

ー

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case

From: [L/N], [Y/N]

To: Higuruma, Hiromi

ruma,

i suck at corporate speak 😭 are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr

—

Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB

From: Hange Zoë (IT Department)

To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]

CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)

Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],

Just a friendly heads-up: I’m running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.’

Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! I’ve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)

Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I don’t doubt he’d be willing to eat you out as well!

Happy eating!

Zoë Hange

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.

offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT

punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.

issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.

CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]

‘It has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for ‘personal negotiations,’ that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firm’s Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.’

III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )

higuruma hiromi thinks he’s so fucking smart.

he also thinks he’s the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoom’s actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.

“you’re late, y/n,” higuruma’s voice is close to guttural. he’s laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and you’re knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.

you’re sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. you’re grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,

“hi, ‘ruma! wanna see my tits?”

lord, how higuruma adores you !

and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. he’s already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.

a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.

[Participants: 48]

higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.

slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.

forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.

erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoë has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer you’d often send him—i show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meeting—he knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.

and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.

is he looking at your breasts ?

oh right, you! you’ve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.

“‘ruma? ‘ruma? ugh, is this thing on?”

higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.

offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION

punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)

issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.

CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]

‘Hey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, we’ve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they weren’t having it.’

P.S: ‘Nice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!’

bad conduct, end.

EMPLOYMENT STATUS : #OPEN TO WORK !

! for those who don’t have linkedin ↓

“that’s your reality, not mine.” you lie, “i had my first time with my ex, i thought you knew this?” digging yourself deeper into your lies. “no, i didn’t know about that, i’ve been your best friend for how long?” satoru caresses his chin with his thumb and pointer as if he’s lost in thought “and this is the first time i’m hearing about it” his face deadpans at you as if he came to the conclusion that you’re fibbing. “well i don’t have to tell you every little thing satoru. just like you dont tell me about all of these supposed ‘hookups’ you have so often.” you cross your arms across your chest, eyes leaving his very punchable face.

“what,” satoru pushes your legs off of his lap so he could scoot closer to you before hovering over your laying figure, face inches away from yours “you jealous or somethin’?” his teased, smirking in your face. using one your pointer finger to push his face away from yours.

“how could i be jealous of girls who don’t exist” you tease back with a fake smile before deadpanning again. “they are very real and they’re obsessed with me, thank you very much” satoru winks at you.

of course girls are always following satoru around on campus like lost puppies but he has never actually done it with them, right? with satoru always being the topic of conversation, you do find it weird how you’ve never heard of satorus sexual antics.

you finally sit up wanting to entertain him, not knowing that you were both rocking in the same boat. “oh yeah? show me how you do it then, toru” you turn to face the man. secretly something in you always wondered how satoru fucked or if he even fucked at all? maybe he made love, would lay you down gently on his sheets that smell of him, leave a trail of soft kiss down your stomach before lapping on your clit like a parched kitten whilst whispering sweet nothings into the air…. or maybe he’d shove your face into his pillows, his fingers digging into your hips as he digs you out, slamming his hips into you so deep you could feel him bulging in ur lower stomach, grabbing you by your hair to spit in your mouth before slapping your cheek leaving a hot sting behind.

you knew it was perverted and wrong to think about your bestfriend like that but you just couldn’t help yourself. it was only made worse whenever you’re all alone and bored out of your mind, leaving you to get all hot and bothered at the thought of your bestfriends undeniable sex appeal. thinking about him doing more than just the small kisses he’d leave on your cheek and the lingering touches he’d leave on your skin.

“y-you want me to show you?” his face heats up, leaving a noticeable rosy color on his cheeks “might be too much for your virgin eyes” satorus stutter is quickly covered by false confidence. “i’m sure i can take it” your words made him gulp “come on, dont make it weird satoru.” his eyes follow you as you get up from the sofa and stand in between his manspread legs. “let’s reenact it” you say looking down on him.

“okay, w-well first i take ‘em by the hips like this..” his hands shake as he grabs ahold of your hips, a familiar feeling like when he’d place his hand on your hips to brush past you. “ ‘n i bring ‘em on my lap” he gently guided you to sit ontop of his lap, his confidence leading you to believe he was telling the truth about being experienced in this craft.

your thin sleep shorts being almost no barrier against his pajama pantsed crotch. satoru was beginning to internally panic, swore it would never go this far, yeah you’ve kissed a couple of times, left not-so friendly lingering touches on each other, and flirted as much as you breathed but he never would’ve thought he’d have his best friend on his lap getting ready to dry hump him.

“then i- fuck- make ‘em grind on me like this..” he lied through his teeth. truth is, he’d never done anything like this! he believed he was telling on himself by the way his fingers trembled as they grasped ur hips, the way his breath staggered and hitched as he felt the plushness of your hips, and his eyes glazed over as they raked over your figure. his hands travel from your hips, to your butt as he drags you back and forth on bulging crotch. “just like this..” he grunts, his cock rock hard under you, while his eyes are glued to where you both meet.

“shit.. i know ur lying satoru” you huff out, trying not to react when you clit catches on his bulge. satorus eyebrows furrow “m’ not lyin’! you’ve just never done anything like this, so you wouldn’t k—angh!—know!” he flips your accusation back onto you. you don’t even retort back, instead you straight your back so you can take control. slowly grinding ur hips on the thigh his cock was laying hard against. satorus hands that once rested on ur hips, fly to your hips as he tries to halt your movements.

his actions only making you speed up. you notice the way his eyebrows are pinched together, his breathy whimpers become uncontrollable, and the dumb way drool begins to slip from his lips— all telltale signs you’ve seen in your favorite twitter videos that he was about to blow his load. “h-hah..” you gasp out when he rolls his hips up into your slick shorts “look at you toru!” your thumb swipes over his drool coated lip, wiping the drool on his shirt. satoru looks like he’s in a trace when his eyes finally meet yours. while you’re too busy teasing him in his messy state, you fail to notice his nimble fingers slipping under your thin shorts until he rolls your slick clit under his pointed n middle finger.

“toru! that’s n-not fair” you whine as your hips involuntarily buck against his touch, distracting you from getting him off as you chased his fingers. your hands are quick to shimmy his pj pants down just enough to free his throbbing cocking. satoru sucks air through his teeth when he feels your soft hands wrap around his precum glazed cock. “fuck- grip it tighter baby..” he sputters out as his fingers circle around your slick hole before pushing in with no mercy. he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his finger before massaging through your walls in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“mmngh—! s’ fuckin’ good!” clenching around his fingers as you spat down onto his cock, creating enough slick to freely move you hand up n down on his cock at the immediate fast pace you set. the pleasure becoming all to overwhelming for the both of you, this “reenactment” turning in a competition to see who will crack first. you continued to stroke satorus length, pressing a thumb against his tip every now and then to make him whimper n whine, until you felt a knot building up in your stomach.

hot pressure becoming unbearable as satorus fingers never faltered. the soft ‘click click click’ sound of his middle fingers, massaging deep inside against where you’re weak, his thumb tracing circles on your puffy nub, was all too much for you! “m’ gonna—fuck! don’t stop!” barely giving him a warning before your walks clench around his fingers tight enough to make him groan. you let out a string of incoherent babbles and moans as you make a mess on his fingers. he watches in awe you fall apart from something so simple as fingering, deepening his belief that you must be a virgin like him. he’s snapped out of his head when he realizes even throughout your orgasm, you never stopped your movements on his cock.

rubbing your palm against the tip, using you free hand to stroke his length like you’ve read about online, only makes satoru squirm under you. “mmngh- y-your hand feels so- fuck! good.." satoru bit his lip, trying to suppress the high pitched moans threatening to spill from his swollen lips. “f-fhuck.. wait-baby, wait!” the trembling man under you panics at the pleasure

chest heaving, stomach twisting, his toes curling, plump pink lips slightly parting but no sound leaves it. his hand grips your wrist in a attempt to stop you but you persist anyway. hot spurts on his seed coats your hand and his pj pants as he groans. his beefy forearm moving up to hide his face in embarrassment as his hips buck to chase the last of his release.

a minute goes by of nothing but the noise of both of you heaving and process the moment. satoru is the first to speak, “i’m a virgin.” he says with his arm still slung over his face. “me too” you respond without missing a beat.

“then that’s settled” his arm comes down, revealing a cheeky smile you know all too well. the type of smile that screams trouble

“maybe we can show each other how to do it?”

a/n: sorry for being a deabeat writer :/ this idea/trope has been sitting in my drafts for a while, n it’s honestly just too cute!!!

like wdym we r trying to convince each other that we’ve done it before??