★

you nod and climb out. you’re wearing nothing but a thin white crop top stretched tight over your swollen tits and tiny denim shorts that barely cover your ass, standard uniform for new stock on sukuna’s hybrid ranch. thighs ripping from the seat after the long drive. your tits are killing you—swollen, aching, a wet patch already blooming. the little brass bell on your leather collar jingles when you move.

sukuna’s eyes drop to it, then lower, lingering on the way your nipples poke through thin cotton. “what's your name again, pretty girl?”

you give him your name softly, and he grins.

“mm, cute. i’m ryomen sukuna. i own this shithole. but it’s my shithole.”

he jerks his chin toward the biggest barn, black paint, a couple windows. “the bull’s in there. name’s toji fushiguro. he’s a mean, spoiled son of a bitch and he’s run off every cow i’ve brought home this year. six of ‘em. one lasted four hours before she was crying for her mama. you walk in there, he don’t like you, i put you back on the road with gas money and a sorry. he does like you…” sukuna grins, slow and sharp. “then you’re mine till you pop out a calf or three. you still want the tour?”

your tail flicks nervously, milk beads at your nipples, threatening to drip. “i already quit my job and sold my furniture.”

“good girl.” he claps once, loud. “let’s go see your bull, yeah?”

he walks you across the yard, boots crunching on the gravel. the closer you get to the barn the thicker the air gets—hay, sweat, something darker. a man’s musk so strong your knees wobble. sukuna slides the heavy door open just enough to slip through and pulls you in after him.

inside it’s dim and warm, lit by a couple hanging bulbs. hay bales tower like walls, chains dangle from the rafters.

choso—his ranch hand—is inside, pitchfork in hand, flannel sleeves rolled high. his dark eyes flick up, lock on your chest, then snap away like he’s been burned.

sukuna smirks. “kamo, meet the new girl. ain't she pretty?”

choso swallows hard, gives a tiny nod, tipping his cowboy hat to you. “yes, boss.”

you smile at him, then look around some more. it's then that you see him, in the center ringed by soft straw, sprawled out like a king, tail flicking lazy, black ears angled back. he’s bigger than you pictured. he's got shoulders broad enough to block the light, black horns polished to a shine. scars crisscross on his chest and abs like someone tried to carve him up and gave up. he’s wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and a scowl, arms folded, eyes closed.

sukuna gently shoves you forward. “ma'am, this…is toji fushiguro. my best friend, my prized bull with the worst attitude. 'ji, say hello to the pretty little cow that’s finally gonna shut you up.”

toji doesn’t even lift his head. “smells like the last five. i'll pass.”

your stomach drops, wondering what the fuck his problem is. sukuna groans, rolling his eyes.

“stand up and sniff her properly, you lazy fuck.”

toji sighs, pushes to his feet. six foot something of pure muscle and bad attitude. he towers over you, green eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. he circles once—slow—tail brushing your hip. he stops behind you and leans in. one deep breath against the nape of your neck and his whole body goes rigid.

his head snaps up, his nostrils flare, pupils blowing wide until the green is just a thin ring. his tail stops moving.

“this one,” he says, voice so deep it scrapes. “smells like mine.”

your bell jingles hard when you shiver.

sukuna whistles. “well, i'll be damned. eight months and thirty grand later, the prissy little prince finally picks a bride.”

toji shoots him a glare but his attention immediately flicks back to you, his hand settles on your hip—huge, calloused, possessive. “get her clothes off. i wanna see what i’m working with.”

sukuna rolls his eyes but steps forward, fingers hooking the straps of your tank top. “you could try please, asshole.”

“please,” toji mocks, but his eyes never leave you like he's silently asking you for permission.

you nod and lift your arms as toji slides your top up and over your head, your jean shorts are quickly unbuttoned and slide down your body, pooling at your feet. you’re bare underneath except for pale blue panties already soaked through. milk beads at both nipples, fat drops rolling slow down the curve of your tits. toji’s growl deepens. he reaches out, cups one breast gentle—like he’s testing ripeness—then squeezes. milk sprays in a thin arc and you moan a little, knees buckling.

“fuck,” sukuna mutters, adjusting himself. “told you her lines were good.”

toji ignores him. he leans down, drags his tongue over your nipple, lapping up every drop. the rough texture of his tongue feels so good, a hand immediately flying to his hair. his other hand slides between your thighs, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

“pussy’s drenched,” he rasps against your skin. “been thinking about getting some cock the whole drive, huh?”

you shamefully nod before you can stop yourself.

sukuna laughs softly. “alright, princess. guess you’re staying. let’s get her settled before you rut her into the ground on night one.”

toji grunts but steps back—just barely. sukuna takes your hand and tugs you toward a corner of the barn that’s been turned into a little space just for you. a thick mattress piled high with blankets, soft lights strung overhead, a mini fridge humming in the corner. there’s even a tv mounted on the wall, a little dresser for all your things.

“you’ll live here,” sukuna says. “toji don’t like the house. he sleeps in the barn like a feral bastard. but if you need anything, text me. bathroom’s through that door. food’s in the fridge, mostly junk, his majesty’s diet. but don't worry, i’ll bring you real groceries tomorrow.” he winks.

toji’s already shedding his jeans behind you, zero shame. his cock heavy and half-hard, swinging between his thighs. the head’s flushed dark, a thick vein running the underside. you stare too long, imaging bouncing on it, riding him like a cowgirl till he cums deep inside you and he smirks at the redness on your cheeks.

“like what you see, sweetheart?”

your tail swishes, ears twitching, milk drips from your tits a little, pattering onto the blankets.

sukuna sighs like a tired babysitter. “i’m gonna go a grab beer and pretend i’m not watching my best friend ruin a perfectly good heifer on day one. play nice—both of you. kamo! let's head out. give these two lovebirds some privacy.”

choso quickly gathers himself at the sound of his name, as if he wasn't staring at your gorgeous body the entire time. he adjusts himself in his jeans as he walks and slips out alongside sukuna, sliding the barn door shut behind him. the click of the latch echoes. the silence stretches, the air thick and electric.

toji stalks forward until your back hits the mattress pile. he looms over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other trailing down your belly to hook in your panties.

“been waiting a long fucking time for someone that feels right,” he says, voice low. “every one they brought me just…didn’t feel right. you—” he inhales deep along your throat, “—look like you’re it for me.”

he rips your panties off like tissue paper, the cool air hits your soaked folds and you whine.

“gonna take my time tonight,” he murmurs, pushing you down into the blankets. “gonna open you up slow. make sure this pretty pussy remembers who it belongs to.”

his mouth finds your tit again, sucking hard, drawing milk in steady pulls that make your back arch. the other hand slides between your legs, two thick fingers pushing in easy, curling, stroking that spot that has you seeing stars. you’re babbling already—'please, toji, more, need it'—and he just chuckles against your skin.

“you're needy little thing. don’t worry, baby. by morning you’ll be so full of me you’ll feel empty without my cock inside you.”

he works you open for what feels like hours—fingers, tongue, the blunt head of his cock rubbing through your creamy folds till you’re crying and begging for him to fuck you properly. only when you’re limp and trembling does he finally line up and sink in—one slow, relentless push until he’s buried to the hilt and you’re stretched impossibly full.

he stays still, letting you adjust, forehead pressed to yours. “breathe, baby. that’s it, easy.”

then he starts to move, slow at first, deep rolling thrusts that drag over every nerve. your bell jingles with every snap of his hips. the pace builds steady—harder, faster, the wet slap of his balls against your ass echoing in the barn.

“gonna breed you,” he growls against your ear. “gonna pump you full every fucking day till your belly’s round.”

“g-gonna cum, toji! pl-please, 'm so close.” you whine, gripping his forearms, digging crescents into his skin with your nails.

he groans, a hand slipping between you both to rub tight circles on your aching bud of nerves. “yeah? go on then, baby. make a mess 'round my cock f'me.”

you cum with a broken cry, pussy clamping down around his thick shaft, milking him. he lets out a low groan, thrusting deep, his tip bumping your sweet spot repeatedly and he floods you, cum painting your walls white. he grinds slow, making sure every drop stays inside.

he doesn’t pull out, doesn't want to. he just rolls you both onto your sides, still buried deep, a beefy arm locked around your waist.

“go to sleep,” he mumbles into your hair. “i ain't goin' anywhere.”

you’re already drifting, sore and full and stupidly content, milk leaking slow out from your soft breasts. outside, sukuna and choso's boots crunch on gravel as they walk back to the house, talking about how their little plan worked. the plan being to get toji a girl, not just a mate, but someone to hold. to love. dull out his rough edges.

sukuna's lips grin around a fresh cigarette.

“he finally picked one. how about it, kamo?”

you wake up to the sun slicing through gaps in the barn boards, gold dust floating lazy in the air, and toji’s cock still half-hard inside you from the night before. he’s got one massive arm slung over your waist, nose buried in your hair, breathing deep like he’s been dreaming about your scent. your tits throb—swollen twice as bad overnight, milk drenching the sheets where it leaked while you slept.

every time he shifted and nudged your cervix. the bell on your collar gives a tiny jingle when you try to stretch and realize you’re pinned.

toji grumbles, hips rolling slow, grinding deeper. “quit squirming, baby. 'm tryna sleep.”

“can’t,” you whimper. “it hurts, ne-need milking bad.”

he cracks one green eye open, takes in the way your nipples are pert, red and dripping steady. a smirk tugs his mouth.

“my poor girl. guess i didn't help you out much last night.” his hand slides up, cups one heavy tit, gives a lazy squeeze. milk arcs out, splattering his forearm. he licks it off without shame. “that's alright. i’ll handle it.”

he starts to sit up, but the barn door creaks open and choso steps in, boots quiet on the straw, carrying a shiny steel milking pail and a clean towel slung over his shoulder. his hair’s down today, black strands messy from sleep, flannel unbuttoned enough to show his muscular chest. he freezes when he sees you tangled naked with toji, cheeks going pink.

“uh—boss said to come milk her first thing,” he mumbles, eyes glued to your chest. “didn’t know you two were—sorry.”

toji’s entire body goes stiff. a low sound starts in his chest, vibrating through you where you’re still connected. “the fuck you doing in here, kamo?”

choso swallows, but doesn’t back down. “sukuna’s orders. sh-she look ready to burst. she’ll get mastitis if somebody don’t drain ‘em proper.” then he looks at you with a soft smile, “i can…i can do it. i'll be gentle. promise i won’t hurt you.”

“ye-yeah that's fine, you can—” you start but toji sits up fast, sliding out of you with a wet sound that makes you both groan. his thick cum immediately starts leaking down your thighs. he stands butt-ass naked, tail lashing hard enough to whistle, fists clenched. “i said i’d handle my own.”

“she ain’t just yours,” choso says, voice soft but steady. “she’s on the payroll and boss pays me to keep all the stock healthy.”

toji takes one step forward and the air crackles. “touch her tits and i break your fucking hands.”

choso sets the pail down slow, straightens up. he’s a bit smaller than toji but built solid, shoulders squared now. “try it.”

they crash together before you can even fully blink. toji's horns clacking, fists flying. choso ducks under a wild swing, drives his shoulder into toji’s gut, sends him stumbling back into a hay bale. toji gets back up quickly, grabs choso by the throat, but choso knees him in the ribs, blood drips from toji’s lip and he grins feral around it.

you scramble up on shaky legs, milk streaming down your belly, voice cracking. “stop—please—”

the barn door bangs open again and sukuna storms in, plastic grocery bags swinging from both fists. he takes one look at the fight—toji holding choso against a post, cock and balls out with no shame—sukuna drops everything—eggs smash, beer cans roll, a six-pack bursts and foams across the floor—and wades in like a hurricane.

“enough!” his voice booms, deeper than either of them. he grabs toji by the horn with one hand, choso by the back of the neck with the other, yanks them apart like they weigh nothing. both snarl but freeze under his grip.

“you two idiots gonna kill each other over a pair of tits?” sukuna snaps. “i swear to fuck i leave for twenty minutes—”

“he touched what’s mine,” toji spits, blood on his teeth.

“i didn’t touch shit yet,” choso mutters, wiping his mouth.

sukuna looks at you—standing there naked, shaking, milk running in rivers down your legs mixing with toji’s cum still oozing out. his red eyes darken, tongue dragging slow over his bottom lip.

“both of you shut up.” he lets them go, shoves toji back a step. “new rule. nobody fights in my barn. nobody bleeds on my hay. and nobody—nobody—lets a good woman suffer ‘cause of ego.” he points at your chest. “look at her, fucking look. she’s in pain.”

toji’s ears flatten, guilt flashing quick. choso’s shoulders drop,normally soft eyes even softer—sad almost.

sukuna exhales through his nose, runs a hand over his pink hair. “here’s how this goes. choso’s gonna milk her—by hand, gentle, like he’s paid to. toji, you’re gonna sit your territorial ass right there and watch, ‘cause you’re the reason she’s clogged up in the first place. and if either of you throw another punch, i chain you both outside till winter. we clear?”

toji glares murder, but nods once. choso nods too, not wanting to argue with the man that pays him.

sukuna kicks a busted bag aside, steps over spilled beer, and crooks a finger at you. “c’mere, sweetheart.”

you pad over on wobbly legs. he guides you to sit on the edge of the mattress pile, back against his chest, legs spread wide so both toji and choso have a clear view. his big hands slide under your tits from behind, lifting the weight, thumbs brushing your nipples gently, milk beads instantly.

“see? easy,” he murmurs against your ear. “kamo, get over here.”

choso kneels in front of you, hands trembling just a little when he takes over. his palms are warm, calloused from work but careful. he starts slow—long, steady pulls that ease the ache immediately. milk streams into the pail in thick white ropes, the sound obscene and soothing at the same time. you moan, head falling back on sukuna’s shoulder.

toji watches from five feet away, jaw clenched so tight you hear it pop. his cock’s hard again, heavy against his thigh, but he doesn’t move. just stares like he’s memorizing every face you make.

“good boy,” sukuna mocks him softly. “learning to share already.”

toji flips him off but stays put. choso switches tits, leaning in too close for toji's comfort. his mouth brushes your skin accidentally-on-purpose. his tongue flicks out, catches a stray drop sliding down your ribs. you shiver hard.

sukuna chuckles dark. “looks like someone's got a milk kink bigger than yours, 'ji.”

choso’s ears burn red but he doesn’t stop—keeps milking steady, eyes half-lidded now, breathing rough. when the pail’s half full and the pressure finally eases, he sits back on his heels, licks his lips shiny with you.

“all done,” he says, voice hoarse.

sukuna lifts you easily, sets you on your feet, gently brushing of hay from the plush of your ass, he looks between the three of you, smirks.

“now that everybody’s calm,” he says, “breakfast. then we talk about how this arrangement’s really gonna work. ‘cause i didn’t spend the rest of my savings for you assholes to tear each other apart before she even catches.”

toji stands slowly, wiping blood from his lip, eyes locked on you. “she’s catching today,” he says, low promise.

sukuna snorts. “yeeah, yeah. we’ll see about that, big guy. clean up this mess first.”

he heads out, leaving the three of you in the quiet barn that suddenly feels way too small.

toji steps closer, cupping your jaw gentle despite the fresh bruise blooming on his cheek. “you okay?”

you nod, leaning into his palm. choso stays kneeling, pail between his boots, looking up at you like he’s waiting for permission.

toji gives him a stern look and choso sighs, standing up with the pail in hand now. he slips out quietly, milk sloshing around in the metal tin at his side, cheeks still flushed dark. the barn door thuds shut behind him and it’s just you and toji in the sudden hush. milk crusts on your skin, cum sticky between your thighs, straw stuck to your back. you feel raw and soft and weirdly safe.

toji rubs the back of his neck, eyes flicking anywhere but you. “go shower, sweetheart. i’ll—” he gestures at the wrecked space, the spilled groceries, the hay everywhere. “i’ll clean this shit up.”

you blink. you half expected him to follow you into the big tiled stall, pin you to the wall, wash you himself with those rough hands. burying his face nose deep in your ass. instead he’s already kicking broken eggs into a pile, tail flicking restless.

“are you sure?” you ask softly.

he grunts, doesn’t look up. “go.”

so you go. the bathroom’s almost bigger than your old apartment—walk-in shower with warm stone floor, bottles of expensive shampoo lined up, courtesy of toji's pickiness. you peel off the ruined collar, let the hot water pound over your shoulders. last night's mess swimming down the drain. you stay under the spray until your fingers prune and your tits finally stop throbbing.

when you step out, towel wrapped loose, there’s a neat stack on the counter: fresh panties , white cotton with a pink bow, a soft green sundress that looks brand new and little brown cowgirl boots still in the box, and a choker sits on top—black with a shiny gold cowbell, heavier than the old one, engraved on the inside with a tiny R.A. sukuna’s mark. there’s a sticky note in his messy scrawl, 'wear this so everyone knows who you belong to now, princess'.

you smile despite yourself, buckle the choker snug. the bell gives a bright jingle when you turn. the dress hugs your tits perfectly, hem brushing mid-thigh, and the boots make your tail swish happy. you look in the foggy mirror—ears perked, cheeks pink, eyes bright. you look like you belong here.

you pad back into the barn barefoot first, boots dangling from two fingers. toji’s on his knees scrubbing beer off the floorboards, shirtless, jeans riding low, muscles shifting under scarred skin. the bed is already remade—fresh sheets, pillows fluffed, your ruined panties gone like they never existed. he’s even swept the straw into neat piles.

he hears the bell and looks up at you and freezes.

you do a little spin, dress flaring. “gonna show me around the farm?” your voice comes out shy but teasing, tail flicking behind you.

toji stares too long. his ears twitch forward, then back. he drops the rag, stands slow, wiping his hands on his thighs. something raw flickers across his face—surprise, hunger, something softer he clearly doesn’t know what to do with.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rougher than usual. “let me wash up first then we'll head out, baby.”

he freshens up and gets changed, stepping back out smelling like your absolute darkest fantasies. he smirks as he passes you to grab a shirt and tug it over his horns, the fabric immediately constraining against his rigid chest, then offers his hand—huge but fitting yours perfectly. you take it. his fingers curl around yours automatically, possessive, but gentle. he leads you out into the morning sun.

the farm’s bigger than it looked yesterday afternoon. rolling hills of green, white fence lines half falling down, a couple horses watching lazy from the corral, an old red tractor parked by the silo, chickens pecking at the dirt, and way off in the distance—a glint of pond. the air smells like warm grass and sweet clover and him, the man that's supposed to be your mate.

toji walks slow so your shorter legs can keep up. he points shit out gruffly— “that’s the hay barn, don’t go in alone, roof’s kinda sketchy. the pasture goes all the way to the tree line, good grazing for the actual cows. and pond’s got bass if you fish. oh, stay outta the east field, that electric fence is live 24/7.” every time he talks his thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand like he can’t stop touching.

you pass the chicken coop and he suddenly scoops you up, sets you on the rail of the fence so you’re eye level. his hands settle on your hips, thumbs brushing bare skin where the dress rides up.

“you look real fucking pretty, you know that.” he says low, almost pissed about it. “that dress—sukuna pick it?”

you nod, bell jingling. “mhm. he left it with the boots.”

toji’s jaw works. “should be me buying you shit.” he leans in, nose brushing your throat, inhaling deep. “still smell like me under all that soap. that's good.”

heat pools low in your core again. you hook your ankles behind his thighs, tug him closer. “you cleaned the whole barn for me.”

he huffs, ears flicking embarrassed. “yeah…well, it was a mess.”

“you made me a little love nest.”

“you needed one, you're here to be a breeding cow and—”

“toji.”

he finally meets your eyes—green and stormy and a little lost in you. “what?”

you cup his cheek. “thank you.”

he leans into your palm like a big cat, eyes half closing. “don’t say thank you. just—fuck. just stay, alright? don’t let me scare you off.”

your heart does something funny. “i’m ain't going anywhere.” you say, repeating his words from last night.

he kisses you then, and it's slow, deep, nothing like last night’s claim. this one tastes like promise and nerves and the faint sweetness of syrup still on his tongue from breakfast. when he pulls back his forehead rests against yours.

“yeah…okay. thta's good,” he breathes. “…real good. cause i’m keeping you.”

in the distance sukuna’s truck rumbles up the driveway, choso riding shotgun with an elbow half out the window. toji doesn’t let go of your hips.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, lifting you down easy. “still gotta show you the back pasture. best spot on the whole damn place. grass so thick you sink to your knees.”

he laces your fingers again and pulls you along, tail swishing slow and content behind him, your bell jingling with every happy step.

the warm country sun’s bleeding orange across the sky when you finally wander back to the barn, sweaty and grass-stained, toji’s arm slung heavy around your shoulders like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he lets go. the whole day’s been soft—him pushing you on an old tire swing, stealing kisses behind the hay barn, feeding you strawberries straight from the patch while you sat in his lap. your thighs still ache from riding him slow in the back pasture at noon, fucking up into you while dragonflies buzzed overhead and he growled 'mine mine mine' against your throat.

you’re both laughing about something stupid—choso tripping over a feed bucket earlier, the chickens attacking him on the ground—when the barn door slides open and sukuna steps in, choso right behind him. sukuna’s got a beer in one hand, other tucked in his pocket, red eyes sharp. choso’s carrying a fresh jug of sweet tea, cheeks pink from the heat.

your conversation dies instantly.

you’re straddling toji’s lap on the bed, dress rucked up to your waist, panties long gone somewhere in the grass of the back pasture. his cock’s buried balls-deep, one thick arm banded around your back, the other hand squeezing your tits. your hips rock lazy, chasing the last sparks of your second orgasm of the day. toji’s head is thrown back, throat working on a groan when they walk in.

sukuna raises an eyebrow. “well fuck me, didn’t even make it to supper.”

choso’s eyes blow wide, tea jug nearly slipping from his fingers.

toji doesn’t stop moving—just slows, grinding up into you, possessive. “knock next time,” he growls, but there’s no real heat in it.

you try to hide your face in his neck, mortified, but sukuna’s already crossing the floor, boots loud.

“don’t stop on our account, princess,” he drawls, tongue loose from the alcohol. “been wondering how long till he had you bent again.”

toji bares teeth. “can't you see she’s busy?”

sukuna snorts, sets his beer on a crate. “oh come on, 'ji. i brought her in, least you can do is share, asshole. farm rules.”

the air shifts, choso and sukuna look at each other, a look that's thick and hungry. you can feel it in your spine. toji’s grip tightens, but his cock jerks inside you, betraying him.

choso edges closer, voice soft. “i-i just…wanted to check if she needed anything. brought some sweet tea too.”

you whimper—half from toji rolling his hips, half from the way both their eyes lock on your leaking tits. milk’s dripping steady now, soaking toji’s abs.

sukuna reaches out, thumbs a fat drop off your nipple, brings it to his mouth. “so goddamn sweet,” he says, smirking at toji. “money makin' milkers right here.”

toji shoots him a look but doesn’t argue when sukuna leans down and licks a hot stripe up your other breast. choso makes a broken sound like he wants a taste for himself too and drops to his knees beside the mattress.

toji finally pulls out slow—your pussy clenches around nothing, cum already leaking.

he makes his way down your body and spreads your thighs wide, dives in face-first. his tongue is hot, dragging over your clit with every lick. he slurps loud—sucking his cum straight from your hole, spitting it back out just to tongue-fuck it deeper. it's filthy and absolutely obscene but you sob, oversensitive, hips jerking. he pins you down with one hand on your belly, the other shoving three fingers alongside his tongue, curling hard, making you cum once more.

he leaves a soft kiss on your clit and gently flips you onto your back, spreads your thighs wide, and shoves back in with one thrust that punches the air from your lungs.

“i've got rules, alright,” he tells them, voice gravel. “she's mine to breed. you get the rest. got it?”

they both nod, already pussy drunk before they even get to touch you. they stare as he starts fucking you in earnest—deep, punishing strokes that make the bell on your choker jingle like crazy. your velvety walls fluttering around his thick shaft. sukuna chuckles, unzips, fists his heavy length slow, it's pierced right at the tip, leaking pre. choso follows suit, his cock equally as big, his big brown eyes glued to where toji disappears into you over and over.

sukuna climbs onto the mattress, kneels by your head. “open that pretty mouth for me, baby.”

obeying, you loll your tongue out, drooling already. he feeds you inch by thick inch till your throat bulges. choso whines, straddling your chest and sukuna grabs your tits, pushes them together so choso can slide his cock between them. he gathers as much spit as he can, letting it drip from his mouth straight down into the valley of your breasts, as his cock rubs between the wet warmth of your chest, making the drag filthy-wet. he groans when the head of his cock pokes out the top and bumps your chin.

toji growls in approval at the sound of your gluck gluck glucks! on sukuna's thick cock, hips snapping harder against your soppy cunt. “that’s it, baby—fuck. be louder f'us, shit.”

you are loud—gagging around sukuna, moaning into every thrust between your breasts, pussy fluttering each time toji bottoms out. they pass you back and forth like a toy, choso’s gentle thrusts between your tits while sukuna fucks your throat raw, then they'll switch all the while toji rearranges your guts.

toji pulls out, flips you again—ass up, face shoved into the pillows. he doesn't slide back in, no, instead, he takes a step back, letting his bestfriend have a try.

sukuna smirks, fisting his spit-slicked cock before takes your pussy from behind, rubbing the thick head between your honeyed folds before shoving deep inside, making you scream into the mattress. toji kneels in front, cock slick with your juices and shoves into your mouth instead, face-fucking you.

“better not cum inside,” toji warns, voice deadly as he holds your head, thrusting into your tight throat. “tha-that’s mine.”

sukuna slaps your ass, spreading your cheeks wide and drills into you relentlessly. choso leans back on a palm off to the side, stroking himself with a free hand. sukuna laughs breathlessly but pulls out when he’s close, painting your back and ass in thick ropes. choso scrambles up to take his turn next, lining up behind you and sinking into you with a whimper. it takes him a second to gather himself, fighting every urge in his body to not immediately bust inside you. he starts with slow, deep strokes, then finds that rhythm, pounding your pussy but far more sweeter, careful. he still wrecks you, plush ass bouncing back and hitting his thick thighs, making you gush on his cock until toji shoves him off, deciding that's enough and slams home again.

he takes you hard—his knees spreading yours wider, chest pressed to your back, one hand fisted in your hair yanking your head back so sukuna can watch your face.

“gonna fill you up, baby,” toji rasps against your ear. “breed this pretty pussy right in front of them so they never forget who you belong to, sweetheart.”

you sob—overstimulated, overwhelmed, cumming again from the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your sticky clit. toji groans, shoving his cock deep inside and unloads hot, thick, endless pulses of cum that flood your womb and spill out around his base. he grinds through it, making sure every drop stays.

he finally pulls out and you collapse, trembling. but eagerly, choso immediately but gently flips you onto your back again not giving you a moment to think as he slides his cock back between your soaked tits, fucking them frantically. sukuna kneels over your chest, jerking himself rough.

“let me see that tongue, pretty girl. want you to swallow it all for me,” sukuna orders.

you open your mouth, tongue out like a whore, eyes glassy. they both cum at once—choso painting your tits and neck, sukuna adding heavy ropes across your cheeks and tongue, some filling up your mouth. you swallow it all down, the taste bitter but sweet.

toji watches the whole thing, chest heaving, then leans down slow then licks a long stripe up your tear-streaked cheek, tasting salt, sukuna's cum and you.

toji smirks, reaches down and tugs your bell once—sharp jingle.

“welcome to the farm, babygirl.”

new pretty prized heifer at ryomen acres wins best milk in the whole county!

sukuna slaps the county paper on the kitchen table hard enough to rattle the coffee mugs, grin wide and evil. the headline’s in bold black letters under a giant photo of you in the show ring—smiling proud, belly round and heavy with toji’s twins, gold bell gleaming against your throat. blue ribbon pinned right over your heart.

toji doesn’t even look up from where his face is buried in your neck, breathing you in like always. he’s got you sat his lap at the breakfast table, one massive hand splayed over the tight curve of your belly, the other locked around your hip like someone might try to steal you.

he mumbles to himself against your skin, voice rough from sleep. “touchin’ her tits for a sample. should broken that old fart's fingers.”

you laugh soft, ears flicking, and stroke the scar on his lip. “well…you did glare too hard at that one guy. he dropped the collection jar, you're the reason he had to collect some more.”

toji huffs into your neck, squeezing you tighter. choso sets a stack of pancakes in front of you, extra syrup because that's all you've been craving, sweet. his eyes linger on your belly, soft and fond. “you want more eggs, pretty mama?”

“mhm, please,” you hum, leaning into toji’s chest.

sukuna drops into the chair across from you, kicks his boots up on the table. “paper says your yield’s up thirty percent. twins and still pumping like a goddamn machine. we’re rich, assholes.”

toji finally lifts his head, green eyes narrow. “we were already rich. dick. now we’re just louder about it.”

you raise an eyebrow, wondering why sukuna needed a heifer if they already had mo—

then toji leans down, pressing a kiss to your neck. you shiver, it distracts you, tilting your head to the side with a soft moan, your thighs press together. he continues his unusually gentle barrage of kisses on your neck.

you smile, warm and stupidly happy, hand settling over toji’s on your belly. the babies kick hard—right against his palm and toji’s whole face goes soft for half a second, letting out a low sigh, wrapping his arms impossibly tighter around you.

outside the kitchen window, the morning sun hits the new sign choso put by the gate—ryomen acres in fresh black paint.

best milk in county! — it reads.

toji's hands slide up from your belly and gives a good squeeze to your plump tits, groaning a little, burying his face in your neck once more to hide the red on his cheeks. his ears twitch, cock hardening underneath you.

“best in the fuckin’ world,” he mutters.

KAMOSWRLD 2025 ©

masterlist!

nobody even dared talking to the todoroki son, and neither did you, but you liked looking at him. he's always so meticulous and calm as opposed to your rowdier louder classmate's. despite his quieter presence he always seemed to stand out to you. his bag is big enough to carry everything he needs without having to shove anything inside or leaving it half opened. he wipes his mouth with a tissue after he's done eating his lunch alone and his handwriting is pretty. his lashes are long and he's pretty.

you remember being partnered up with him for a class project once. he'd immediately cut to the chase and split the work for the both of you, clearly not humoring your attempts of starting conversation.

slowly though, you start getting him to stay behind to talk to you a little longer after the bell rings until he invites you to get your work done in the library, just to get your work done. until you ask him about his favorite colour and he doesn't know, so he asks you yours. and then you ask him about his favorite ice cream flavour, he says he doesn't have sweets a lot and he asks you yours. and you keep talking and he keeps listening and asking. you ask him if it doesn't bother him that you're talking so much but he says he doesn't mind.

you liked spending time at the library talking with shoto and you think he enjoyed listening to you. you liked riding your bike home with him while he walked next you, before he agreed to ride on it with you sometimes, but one time you both fell off and you hurt your knee, and he promised to never get on again if it meant you getting hurt while carrying you on his back. you remember him smelling really nice and you tightening your arms around his neck and nuzzling into him, and his grip on you tightening as well.

you liked holding his left hand when it got cold out even though he didn't like it much, but he'd do it for you. you liked it when you got to switch seats and sit next to him and you think he liked sitting next to you. you didn't see shouto smile often, but he did when he was with you and you liked that. and you think he liked that too.

you think so at least. you hope so, because when break was over he was gone.

you'd heard he got pulled out of school, some other people just said he'd switched, to go to a better cooler private school. you hated it when people said that because the shoto you knew wasn't like that. he knew people talked about him and he hated being associated with his father. he likes the caramel you sneak in for him at school and you like the way his eyes light up when he guesses the flavour of fruit candies you make him taste. the shoto you know that ties your shoes for you and shares his umbrella with you, the one who half heartedly stomps into wet puddles with you, the one with the pretty lashes and pretty smile and pretty handwriting isn't like that.

and you wished you could've asked him where he went, and why he went and took his warmth for snowy winter days with him, but you couldn't because he didn't have a phone and neither did you. you weren't old enough for one yet and you'd told him that as soon as you'd turn thirteen he'd be the first contact in your phone and he'd smiled.

you couldn't do that anymore. and you wonder how he's doing four years later.

you don't very much, but you think about him sometimes when his soft hair and pretty eyes cross your mind. he never cared for his looks much even after being voted the most handsome boy by the girls in class.

"i didn't know people thought i was..handsome." he ponders, scratching at the corner of his paper with his pencil. you kick your legs in the air where you're sitting next to him, you pout.

"why not ?"

"because..my scar.." he trails off, he keeps erasing at a spot he'd already wiped the pencil lead off of. you lean in so you get into his field of vision and he leans back a bit with widened eyes before leaning in towards you again, you're forwardness always took him by surprise.

"nuh-uhn, the others say it makes you look even more handsome !" you reassure and he blinks.

"do you think i'm handsome ?" he asks, tilting his head cutely. you splutter and feel your face heat up.

"e-everyone does.."

"do you ?" he leans closer.

you gulp, gripping your chair you turn your head away from his to the side and nod. you get the courage to peek up at him and you're surprised to see a smile pulling at his lips and a light tint of pink on his face.

"that's good." is all he says, but you feel so much warmth swarming through you, and you think he does, too.

so you wonder where he is and you wonder how he's doing. you wonder if he has any new friends or if his most handsome boy award got him a girlfriend. you wonder if he truly felt the same way you did way back then and if he liked holding your hand just as much is you did his because it was warm but also because it was his. and you wonder if he thinks about you.

except you don't have to wonder anymore. because on your first day at your new school, he walks into class. his eyes widen when he locks eyes with you and you recognize him, and you think he does too.