standing just outside the white chalk lines. shaggy raven hair that never looks styled, stubble he clearly forgot—or chose not—to shave that morning. his infamous scar pulling at his lips as he shouts. he wears the same black team jacket unzipped, sleeves rolled up his thick forearms. when he folds his arms or gestures sharply toward the field, you always catch his muscles shifting beneath the fabric, veins flexing making it so impossible to ignore.

it’s just a photographer’s eye for striking subjects. for sure….

he beautifully contrasts against the chaos of the game…even if he’s shouting, or breaking his clipboard…. still, you capture him mid-shout, mid-thought, jaw clenched as he’s holding the entire team together.

and then later, when the photos run, and his photos dominate the highlights more than the actual goal, well, you pretend not to notice how often your name sits beneath them in a small, neat printed font.

he doesn’t know you. you’re just another person with a camera on the sidelines. you’re just another face in a sea of professional press badges, not just one of the universities many photographers. but you know him. you know the way his brows pinch when one of his players gets injured, the way his mouth twitches when his team scores, and the way he exhales with relief when the game ends.

and you keep clicking the shutter button—

“again?!” the head editor exclaims. “you didn’t get the goal?”

“I did!” you huff, glaring at the senior grad student who basically runs the entire school newspaper.

“not the first one, the final goal! the one scored by the universities ace! sukuna—“

“god forbid i missed a shot, I basically got everything else, plus I’m not the only one taking photos on the pitch. don’t you have other photographers?” you tsk, arms crossed.

he glares at you behind his desk, clicking through the photos you’d uploaded. “you got every single expression of the damn coach,” he mutters under his breath, clicking through one of toji shouting, then another of him spitting on the grass, then another of him scratching his jaw—

you nibble on your cheek, slouching slightly in the seat.

“you hate when we use someone else’s photos,” he adds, licking his teeth as he finally gets to your photos of the actual players. and they were spectacular. the action shots were perfect, you can see the sweat dribbling down their foreheads.

“because it’s my job,” you mutter, glancing at your editor who frowns when the photos return back to the head coach.

“unbelievable,” he mumbles, exhaling slowly as he sits back in his seat. “you’re killing me.”

your heel kicks the floor. this wasn’t a first. this happens almost every time. your lens just happens to drift away from the ball and fall on the head coach.

even with fans shouting in the stands, and the other cameras flashing in the other direction. your camera can’t help but find coach toji in the chaos. he was just as important as the team. he’s acting like toji isn’t mentioned a million times in the articles! god forbid you want him getting his flowers. but your editor wasn’t very appreciative of your sympathies.

“we’re going with these three, and taking one from the other photographers for the final goal you didn’t get,” he sighs, showing you your three photos, one of the team celebrating, another of satoru gojo sprinting across the field with the ball, and of course, the final — and in your opinion the best — of head coach toji standing with his muscular arms crossed at the start of the second half.

your editor rolls his eyes turning his screen back to him. “if you bring another folder and it’s seventy percent of this damn coach, I’ll drop you and pull noah up.”

the threat has you lowering your head and muttering a hesitate okay, because at the end of the day, you were the only photographer that worked full time for the paper, and you go to every single match. the rest are focused on other stories, or working their way to become editors.

while you liked photo-journalism more. it helped, that on weekends, you got someone to admire. and your editor was not the only one that’s noticed.

“what the hell, you’ve got to be kidding me,” geto huffs, snatching the paper from gojo as he sits on the pitch. “why am I never in these damn fucking articles??” he huffs with anger

“score more goals,” gojo sticks his tongue out, just to get kicked harshly by his friend.

“I fucking scored this game,” geto snaps, grumbling even more as he flips through the paper, seeing the team celebrating.

sukuna chugs his water behind them, “my picture sucks ass,” he grumbles, spitting the water right beside their goalie making him jerk back in annoyance. “you didn’t score, but I get the shit picture?” he snaps lowly at gojo.

geto frowns, “I scored, and at least you get a picture.”

gojo chuckles, pointing at the next photo, making the entire team roll their eyes simultaneously.

“some things never change,” one teammate, yuno, mutters. his hands are on his hips as him and the rest of the team glare at the immaculate, pristine, jaw-dropping photo captured of their strict, grumpy, nicotine addicted head coach, toji.

sukuna snarls as geto looks like he’s going to fucking tear out his luscious black hair. “fucking unbelievable.”

gojo snorts even louder, snatching the paper just to wave it from his place on the ground towards toji, who’d just gotten off the phone. “coach! you’re mogging the cameras again!”

toji’s brows pinch until he notices the photo. and it’s always the same reaction from the head coach. his eyes scan over the photo, then they fall down to the same printed name underneath. “not bad,” he casually says, handing back the newspaper like it’s nothing.

but the entire team is seething, with the exception of gojo laughing his ass off.

“I finally figured out who your secret admirer is,” gojo announces, “it’s definitely the cutie with the charm on her camera and stickers on her flashlight.”

geto raises a brow “how d’ya know that?” the rest of the team immediately huddle in.

gojo clears his throat.

“for the last few games I’ve been purposely fixing my shoes or drinking water on the sidelines where they’re all huddled up. obviously I ruled out all the old farts, then I narrowed it down to the ladies. then i crossed out the outside press, but it’s hard since I can’t see all their press badges—but then i noticed,” gojo holds up the newspaper, slapping his index finger on your name beneath the photo. the entire team have basically memorized your full name by now. “she was the only one still photographing the field, BUT it was pointed at coach,” gojo points to toji.

“AND,” gojo continues, “she had this cute little charm on her camera, and this sticker. and it’s definitely your secret admirer,” gojo confidently smiles.

however, geto scratches his jaw, glancing at gojo then the newspaper. “so which one was her instagram?”

oh right, gojo rubs his neck in disappointment.

your name under a majority of the game’s photos started catching the teams attention a couple months ago. your credentials at the bottom of the article was always signed with your first and last name. however, when the team caught on to your not-so secret admiration for their coach, and neglect of the rest of team, they tried stalking you.

yet, they couldn’t find a single social media handle. not your instagram, twitter, tiktok — even your linkedIn was just the default linkedIn pfp. and the school paper website didn’t have a photo for you. either way, the team was on a mission.

“I don’t think her socials are even under her name,” gojo admits, making the team groan.

toji, silently watching the ordeal transpire, claps his hands, breaking the gossip. “enough, continue your drills unless ya wanna stay till sunset!”

once the team finally finishes practice and began packing their gear. neither one of them notices the students enjoying the nice weather on campus, or the girl that take a detours to walk past the field.

your eyes easily fall on your perfect subject. his hand cracks his neck as he stifles a yawn, kicking the soccer ball towards one of the players as they kick it up, tucking it under their arm.

it was a routine….one that you found yourself subconsciously doing on practice days. you would follow the path down from the quad, until you reach the second soccer field on campus, mainly used for practice and training.

your bag hangs off your shoulder along with your camera — the lens was downsized to your fixed 24mm and the flash wasn’t on — that’s usually how your camera is when you aren’t at events, or games.

it isn’t uncommon to watch the schools infamous soccer team practice. especially when half of them are also part of a fraternity. hell, on the other side of the field were a few girls fawning over the sweaty players.

in other words, you don’t stand out. and you’re unbothered by the hot players that glance your way as they pack their bags. well, until a certain white haired player is squinting across the field, before muttering a quiet “no way…”

geto gives his friend a look, lifting his duffle over his shoulder as sukuna wipes his face with the hem of his jersey, “what?” he grumbles.

gojo’s bag hit the grass. he locks eyes with you. then he does the worst thing imaginable. he shouts your name.

the entire team snap their necks in your direction. gojo suddenly leads the pack of six foot whatever college men across the field — their bags drop, cleats half untied, some bare foot. but all on one mission.

you.

the color immediately drains from your face. your body freezes like a deer in headlights. and when the entire team of sweaty, built, hot men crowd the waist-high fence that separate them from you. you’re ultimately stuck.

“you’re-you’re—“ slightly out of breath and pumped full of adrenaline, gojo heaves out your name. not just a first name, no—your full government name. “right!?”

you eyes lazily drag between the men, fixing the strap of your bag, your camera clinking against the side, drawing every man’s attention to the little charm gojo had just described less than an hour ago.

“yeah,” you manage to exhale, shifting your balance. “did you need something?”

“yeah,” the low voice of the hot headed team captain interrupts. he hadn’t ran with rest of the players, instead he walked up, casual and full of loud confidence. finally making his way across the field, energy drink in hand, glaring right through you as he continues. “why the fuck was my picture the only one not taken by you? it looks like shit.”

you exhale, about to answer when another one cuts in.

“why haven’t you taken one of me? the game last month was my debut and you didn’t get me going on the pitch—“

“I liked that shot you got of me when—“

“can you get my good side next time—“

“why did you—“

“can you—“

“you didn’t get my goal!” geto manages to dogpile. all the men yell complaints and compliments, overwhelming you with critiques. until you’re frowning, glaring harshly at the group of men you’d watched from a distance since your freshman year.

“I don’t work for you guys,” you finally snap. your words are cold making the men frown. “I work for the schools paper, and they choose the photos, not me.”

“and yet coach is in every single one of em?” geto bites back, and that’s when they all catch the slight surprise that crosses your face.

gojo smirks, leaning over the fence, getting close as he tilts his head. “seems like a majority of your photos have our coach. it’s like your editor can’t help but be forced to put him in.”

you feel your stomach churn, glancing between the sharp sapphire eyes. “that’s not how it works,” you mutter.

you did not expect your first interaction with the soccer team to be this. accusing you of favoritism. you can practically feel all their eyes on you, like they knew exactly who you are, even if this is your first time speaking to them.

“sure looks like it,” sukuna drawls, smirking wide when he sees you shift uncomfortably. “you like our coach or somethin?”

“of course she does,” geto’s smooth voice cuts in. “do you get all hot lookin at coach toji?”

you swallow thickly, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck to glare at the men. “you guys are disgusting,” you spit, but the men don’t falter, instead they continue gloating and poking.

“we just wanna get to know you. you’ve been takin’ our pics for months, we can’t have a chat now?” geto cuts.

they were quietly impressed with your composure. your poker face would’ve been perfect if not for the slight fidgeting you’re doing with your bag and camera strap. either way, your glare was mean, unwavering until—

“cut it out.”

the sharp voice slices through the team. then, one strong palm shoves gojo into geto, and the rest of the team topple on each other like dominos. the head coach plants himself between the fence, his team, and you.

“i forget you’re all a couple children,” toji tsks, his arms are crossed standing like a lone knight keeping a pack a wolves from a poor princess.

your heart slams against your rib cage. all your composure evaporates into thin air, struggling to catch your breath. this was the closest you’ve gotten to the head coach. you can practically smell the mixture of his cologne and natural musk. your cheeks grow hotter by the second, completely dazed and loosing all other senses, unaware that practically half the team noticed your sudden shift.

gojo elbows geto eyeing the way your pupils basically turn into bright pink hearts. even your lips look more glossy from the drool collecting in your mouth.

they’d never seen anything like it, and for their coach of all people?!

you’re caught up in gawking at the huge man, eyeing his wide shoulders, the veins straining from his compression shirt, his shirt clinging to every muscle that could break you in a blink of an eye — that you miss his short lecture towards his boys to quit scaring off a young woman, all to end with him shouting—

“ten more laps!”

the team’s eyes bulge, jaws dropping in shock, and quickly follow up with a spew of complaints.

“ya heard coach!” sukuna, the hot-headed captain, interrupts. and if the team wasn’t scared of their coach, they definitely had a reason to be with their captain. they ultimately drop their things and start their laps. however, sukuna hangs back at bit, “I didn’t even say sh—“

“you were late to practice, so you were gonna do the laps anyways,” toji cuts, earning a loud tsk from the tattooed captain. his duffle drops on the floor dramatically, eyes flicking towards yours, which — no surprise — haven’t left the coach’s profile, and with his own groan, his cleats hit the grass starting his lap.

with the entire team running laps….you’re left alone.

coach toji doesn’t move.

instead, he leans against the fence, strong arms crossing. you’re barely a foot behind him, close enough that the scent of grass and dizzy cologne reaches you when he shifts his weight. close enough that your brain short-circuits again.

then he looks over his shoulder.

it’s not rushed or sharp. it was an easy turn of his head, his dark emerald eyes flick to you with calm, assessing. and up close, he’s worse. he’s broader than he looks from the sidelines, his stubble shadowing his jaw feels unfair for a sunday morning. sunlight catches the edge of his cheekbone, and the curve of his mouth makes you stare shamelessly especially when it lifts just slightly. he’s amused by something you’re not aware of yet and you don’t even notice.

your heart stutters.

you practically forget how to stand or how to function like a grown ass adult, instead you feel like someone who’s just had their fantasy materialize directly in front of them.

heat rushes to your face, your chest tightens, and you pray, desperately, that your expression isn’t as transparent as it feels. you focus on keeping your hands still, even as your pulse flutters wildly under your skin.

and toji’s gaze lingers. he takes you in like the way someone experienced does, without staring, without shame, just a brief glance that drifts. from your fidgeting fingers, to your necklace trapped between your pretty cleavage, to the tank top that hugs your chest, to the zip up hoodie falling off your soft shoulder. to your lips, wet from the amount of times you’d lick and bit them.

and you still don’t notice it! you’re too busy trying not to melt into the grass beneath your feet. all you register is how hot the space suddenly feels, how solid he seems standing there.

from the field, a player snickers mid-lap. a majority watching the entire interaction, waiting for someone to make a move. gojo snickers as geto analyzes.

you don’t hear any of it, all you know is that the knights are real, and he’s right in front of you, and your carefully maintained composure never stood a chance. especially when his eyes meet yours and his deep, husky, voice sinks into your bones.

“been wondering who was seein’ me like that, sweetheart.”

you were gone.

s-s-s-sweetheart!?

your heart bursts, veins burning through your skin as your lips part, words falling into the void as your brain struggles to reply.

and he finds it adorable.

college girls are cute, but you, you’re a little pervert. how many photos have you taken of him? and for the past year too? he’s wondered just like his team had, who was behind all those photos. who was oogling him while the best team in the nation was playing right before their eyes?

at first, he was bothered, confused even, how big of a stalker did you have to be to take his photos for months and not introduce yourself?

but now he sees it. the way you’re struggling to find words. the way your eyes flick between his — surprised even that you’re not shying away from eye contact, but instead, struggling to just respond. like the words are right there, but your dumb brain is getting fried just by his presence. cute.

“I’ll try an’ wink next time.”

he just hammers the nail straight into your heart. your face bursts into flames as you let out a strangled hum like whine, face burning even more. unfortunately, your audience isn’t as silent. instead a few had caught your reaction and were bursting with laughter. a few whistling at their coach.

“she’s too young for ya, coach!”

“get someone y’er own age!”

“coach, the shy ones are the freakiest!”

the last one — somehow — snapped you back to reality. your glare cut through the field, immediately hitting one of the players making him burst out laughing along with the others around him. your face pulls into a scowl, heart hammering at the teasing you’re receiving from the team. who even are they? they don’t know anything about you!

shy?! you?!!! you scowl in annoyance, eyes rollin—

“ignore em, sweetheart. they’re just being dicks.”

fuck.

your face burns hot again, heart hammering against your ribs as you stutter out another nod, fingers gripping your bag as you glance at the head coach again. his green eyes were unbelievably dark, just staring at them, you felt like you were getting dizzy.

the scar on his lip twitches up, leaning an elbow on the fence, his eyes flick down to your camera. “what kinda camera is that?”

your eyes widen, looking down like you’re surprised it’s there. but it seems like he flicks a switch in your brain with that question, because now you’re fumbling to hold the delicate thing in your hands. then you hold it out for him.

a small puff of air leaves his nose in amusement. you’re cute. he turns, reaching his hand out, just for your small ones to place the expensive camera in his. the same one you’d deny your friends from even holding, afraid they’ll drop it.

b-but if coach toji holds it…if he wants to hold it…who…who are you to stop him!!!

your blush only breaks out across your body once you feel your hands brush his, eyes so bright and big even he can see the hearts explode from your irises, fuzzy pink flowers glowing around your head like a cartoon.

“looks expensive,” he finally takes his eyes away from you to momentarily examine the camera. it was nice, sony. “bought it yourself?”

you nod, smiling as you rock on your heels. “it was…” oh first words, toji’s eyes flick to you, eyeing your glossy lips as they part. “my first big purchase,” you glance at the camera then back up at toji as you point with your manicured index finger, towards the camera. “it’s nice…right?”

well fuck me.

toji chuckles internally. he really can’t read you. from rude (to the team), to shy, to snappy (to the team), to demure, to charming—all while looking up at him like he’s some shinning knight and not a coach, albeit for the best team in the nation, but still.

his lips curl up, his internal switch already flipped when he shooed the team away, and the smooth voice of his poured out like second nature. “very nice, sweetheart.”

you nod, enthusiastically.

god, you were a cutie.

“and you take such good pictures with it too, you’re a natural,” the sweet words just keep pouring from his mouth like honey, and you’re eating up every drop. your feet manage to carry you closer to the fence…closer to him.

you wet your glossy lips, leaning close to point at the camera, “it also takes video here…I initially wanted to do more videography, but I stuck with photos. but it’s a nice perk with the camera…and I can shoot in raw and jpeg, so I can edit them afterwards if I want, and uh and I have other lenses too. this one is a fixed one, so it can’t zoom, but I have two other ones that zoom, I usually use those ones for work…like during your….games.”

your rambling was one of, if not, the most attractively adorable things you could’ve done at this moment. especially when you’re oblivious to the light flush that settles in the coach’s stomach as he eyes you down.

his gaze flicks between your fingers on the camera, and your profile from his height. your hair lightly brush’s back from the wind exposing your neck, your perfume reaching his nose.

“can I try takin’ a pic?”

your face bursts hot, you feel like it’ll melt off as you gawk up at the head coach, before nodding your head frantically, a wide smile pulling at your lips. you try to clear your throat as you turn the camera on for him and take the lens cap off.

“good?” he asks.

you just nod again, biting your cheek feeling how wide you’re smiling it almost hurts, but you can’t take your eyes off the way his big hands handle your camera. your biggest crush ever is using your camera!

you contain a squeal as he stands straight. he brings the camera to his eye, before lowering it again, confused. your eyes widen momentarily before realizing he’s struggling and quickly stepping up again.

you lean over the fence. and toji purposely avoids coming down to your height. instead, he watches you hold the fence to stand on your tippy toes, the other gently holds his wrist to ask him to lower the camera just a bit from his eye so you can instruct him. fuck, the confidence to touch him when you were just a jittery mess a second ago.

“the shutter button is here. if you half press it, it’ll auto-focus for you—“ you move to the front of the camera flipping some switch, “jus’ turned it on. but just press down all the way and it’ll take the picture,” you say, mistakenly glancing up from where you are, just to realize that coach toji’s face is inches from yours. his warm breath fans against your cheek, his scar so close, his lips right there and his eyes….

you were beyond gone. the steam immediately comes off your face as your eyes turn into big giant hearts. you’re so easy to read it should be illegal.

you fall back on your heels, allowing toji to attempt again. what you weren’t expecting was for him to point the camera at you.

well considering the wider lens, I guess he wants to shoot something closer for more satisfaction. but it caught you slightly off guard, your cheeks flame once more, heart stuttering, but your face immediately lights up.

his lips curve up behind the camera, watching you give him a cute smile, angling your head to tip to the side a bit. people that automatically smile when a camera is pointed at them is definitely a cute trait.

he takes a few quick photos, before pulling the camera back. “how do I see ‘em?”

this time he lowers the camera for you, but keeps it close to his body so you’re still leaning over and up beside him, albeit with the fence between you both.

“ah the sun was behind me,” you realize now looking at the photos. toji hums like he knows what that means (he doesn’t) but he clicks the button to go to the next picture and same thing.

“let’s do it again,” he says, already pulling the camera back, but your finger quickly reaches out, easily flipping it back to view mode before moving back. toji watches you glance up at the sky, before moving yourself in front of the sun. “smile f’er me, sweetheart.”

you were smiling, but now—toji chuckles through his nose at your reaction. he knows exactly what he’s doing. he takes one photo, than another.

your smile turns more pose worthy, not so big, but just as beautiful. “you’re a natural,” he comments, with full honesty.

your cheeks flush, waving your hand in front of you, “don’t glaze me.”

toji snorts, “jus’ saying what I see, not my fault you pose like a model.”

a model?!

toji notices the way you bite your cheek and the way your hands fidget with your bag. “put the bag down, sweetheart.”

your heart skips again, the nickname electing a response from you every time. but you oblige, setting your bag on the ground. now without anything to fidget with, your hands carefully clasp behind your back, your navy hoodie completely off your shoulder, exposing the casual white tank top. his eyes glance at the swell of your tits that your bra pushes up. and the sliver of skin that peaks at the bottom.

the wind was like a perfect accessory, blowing a warm spring breeze in your direction brushing your hair again.

you do your best to pose casually, smiling at the camera, eyes low as you stare into the lens, heart beating erratically as you wait for coach toji to finish.

your breath catches momentarily. cheeks stinging and lips parting like a deer in headlights, because you notice it. just briefly, the way toji lowers the camera from his eye, gaze tracking down your figure, eyeing your thighs, then your hips, then your tits.

he’s definitely checking you out.

you glance away, flustered, unaware that toji was now clicking the library to view the photos he’d just taken.

“I think I’m a pretty good shot,” he compliments his nonexistent skills, but the light hits you so well.

you smile watching him look at the photos. eyes glued to his lazy smirk, stomach hot and heart fluttering at his short comments. he’s so handsome, you glance at the curve of his nose, the stubble on his cheek. he’s so so pretty.

your mind was getting dizzy, all because coach toji is in front of you, but it made you completely forgetful that if he keeps clicking next, it’ll eventually reach—

“oh.”

you first notice the slight raise of his brows, then the scar on his lip twitching wider, then the greens of his eyes darkening.

“did ya’ submit these too, sweetheart?”

your brows furrow for half a second, then it clicks. you lunge forward.

this can’t be happening!

you immediately cover the screen and take the camera as you hear the coach chuckle. of course you’d forgotten that you had these on your sd card.

staring back at you is a photo of toji’s fat bulge from the game. you managed to catch the moment he reached down to itch himself, grabbing it. if he saw this one he definitely saw the three before this of the closeups of his lips, his big biceps, his ass when he was fixing his shoes.

your heart is beating in your ears, skin sizzling with embarrassment as your vision starts to narrow. your eyes flick up to the coach in horror, flustered beyond speech. “it’s not—“ you struggle to explain, “you weren’t supposed to see that. I was just taking one—then I someone bumped so like, the camera went down—“

the rambling was unlike the one before, this one was much more uncoordinated, fueled by your humiliation, anxiety, and desperate attempt at defending yourself to him, so that he doesn’t think you’re some creep.

“I wore that shirt from the match two weeks ago. not this one….” his head tilts, arms folded across his beefy chest. “why do you still have ‘em?”

the older man is quite unbothered. instead, his chest grew hot, and his mind wandered off imagining this hot college girl laying in her bed, staring at pictures of his crotch with her small fingers playing with her wet little pussy. his eyes flick to your chest again.

your eyes are wide, glancing at your camera.

“I just forgot to format the card,” you quickly reply, pretty chest rising and falling. “I always forget, and I realize after when I’m exporting the photos or run out of storage—I delete them, i-i swear!”

he snorts, head tilting, “you swear?”

you nod frantically.

his emerald eyes narrow, tongue poking out to wet his lips, touching his scar. his eyes flick to the camera in your hands. you’re quite the actor…

“okay, I’ll take your word then. you wouldn’t lie to me…?” his gaze was intimidating, the darkness of his pupils felt like a black hole pulling you in. but somehow you manage to shake your head.

“no, sir.”

toji holds eye contact, before tearing it away to reach for his phone, “good girl.”

your heart beats in your throat, threatening to tear out, but you step forward, eyes big and sad. “sorry, coach.” there’s a slight waver in your voice, the man’s eyes widen briefly, chuckling under his breath as he brings a hand up to the crown of your head.

“don’t worry about it, keep taking photos of me. ya’ make me feel important,” his comment is punctuated with a flirtatious wink, shooting another arrow straight into your heart.

you were lovestruck the entire trip home. and so unbelievably grateful.

you talked your way out of such incriminating evidence. because how could coach toji know that in truth, you have an entire album of photos just like the ones he saw, that you pull out almost every night to help you cum.

you really should be an actor, you think, blushing at the way he called you good girl. the way he looked at you, the way his fingers brushed yours on the camera —ahhhh, you bury your hot face in your hands.

you were in shock for days, heart slamming against your chest and face heating up every time you thought back to the moment.

you were so in your head that you hadn’t even noticed the two athletes walking up behind you on your way out of class, crossing the quad.

it’s like that thing that happens. when you’re finally introduced to someone for the first time, then you’re suddenly seeing them everywhere. that’s how geto and gojo felt. you’d been under their noses the entire time.

with a lecture of over two hundred students, of course they’d spot you when you entered today. gojo elbowed his friend, nodding in your direction. geto’s eyes nearly popped.

“what the hell?” geto leans forward, the two men closely watch you enter the lecture hall, walking a few rows down before slipping in. geto’s eyes narrow at the camera you carefully place in your lap as you take out your ipad.

it was like the cards were being dealt out for him perfectly.

“wait, I don’t get it,” gojo huffs catching up to his friend as the lecture hall empties.

geto tsks, “what’s not to get? I’m gonna bribe her into taking photos of me next game. I’m fucking tired of being some fucking blur—“

“you’ve gotten some photos man—“

“well i want more. ones where I’m actually scoring,” geto huffs, brushing his bang back in frustration.

once the two men hit the pavement outside, they spot you. gojo is tagging along for the fun, while geto is set on a mission. one he conjured up mid-lecture the second he saw you. it was perfect. genius—

“what?” your face scrunches in mild disgust. the two men baffle at your reaction, especially at the way you’re looking up at them with narrow, and irritated eyes. your expression isn’t hard to decipher, it’s basically screaming, why tf are you talking to me?

geto licks his teeth, exhaling through his nose, “you heard me fine, sweetheart—“

“don’t call me that.”

his jaw clenches, repeating his line without the pet name. “the next two games are the semifinals and then the finals, so I’ll give you access through our manager to join press during the media window two days before the matches—“

“I already have access to that through the school paper,” you give him a look, immediately ticking him off.

“let me fucking finish will you—“

“you’re taking forever and I’m being cornered,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at the pretentious athlete. geto bites his tongue, as gojo gasps.

“you’re not being cornered!” he states, just to exchange a look with geto as they both see that they’ve steered you off the pavement and against a tree. “no—we’re just talking.”

you exhale, glancing back at geto, “whatever, just finish.”

geto licks his lips, continuing, “you’ll also get access to our locker room strategy meeting or whatever, and behind the scenes access — you only do photos, no video or interviews?”

you shake your head, heart beating just a little quicker because now you’re starting to see the perks. bts access is the one thing university teams can deny since they don’t like any outsiders butting into their strategies or taking them out of “the zone.”

that also means you can see….coach toji.

gojo and geto both notice the realization crossing your face, especially when your lips part, much more glossy than before. unbelievable.

“but,” geto snaps you back, your eyes darting up to meet his, “you better take some good fucking shots of me during the game. if I’m not in the fucking paper and insta page, then no deal.”

you gasp, “dude, you’re literally acting like I’m the one in charge of that?? it’s my editor that picks the photos to put in the articles.”

geto tsks, “yet somehow coach is in every single one.” your jaw clenches, stomach heating up. “take more photos of me so it’s inevitable. got it?”

your lip curls in annoyance, eyeing geto, just for gojo to suddenly but in—

“but also take some of me, i look so hot in them and i like reposting them on my insta,” gojo flashes you a smile.

your frown deepens, “there’s other photographers. you guys know that right?”

“yours are the only ones they choose and they look better than whoever took sukuna’s,” gojo snorts, remembering their captains complaints.

nevertheless, geto and gojo wait for you to agree, both men standing with their arms crossed, blocking the spring sun from hitting you.

then a certain captain happens to pass by, noticing his two teammates, and frat brothers.

“the fuck are you guys doing?”

the men whip their heads as sukuna steps up, bag slung over his shoulder wearing a backwards baseball cap. and with a quick explanation from his friends, sukuna tsks glancing at you and adding.

“coach always showers before or after our games.”

and it was that one bit of information that automatically has you saying: “deal.”

—

you don’t rush setting up. you check your flash, bouncing it once off the ceiling to make sure it won’t wash anyone out. your fingers move with muscle memory, standing in these rooms plenty of times for the school paper, along with other journalists from the school paper especially for media days, post-game scrums, pre-season press.

so this isn’t new territory.

the room is packed, though. there’s national outlets mingling with campus press, and clusters of journalists already talking. you hear familiar phrases float past as you move, many talking about the teams unbeaten streak, their goal differentials, their historic season.

familiar names are easily getting tossed around. captain sukuna coming up first, always, and his leadership, and the way he commands the field. gojo’s speed follows after, and his natural talent and eye for goals, then geto’s consistency, his intelligence and composure. someone mentions scouts again, plural this time, and how a few clubs have been hovering around those three all season.

you barely react because you’ve heard all of this before, and it was impressive of course, you enjoy it. however, what does get you, embarrassingly, is his name.

every time coach toji is mentioned—his tactics, his discipline, the way he rebuilt the program and incorporated new strategies —you feel heat creep up your neck. it’s a soft and traitorous blush that you’re grateful no one’s looking closely enough to notice you smiling.

you keep your eyes on your camera, pretending to fiddle with a setting you don’t actually need to adjust, reminding yourself that he’s just part of the team. a very effective, very respected part of it.

then finally, the noise dips and the conversations fade into an expectant quiet as the side door opens.

the players file in first, with sukuna at the front, expression unreadable, gojo already grinning, geto calm and observant as ever. everyone’s cameras lift, and recorders click on. and then he steps in behind them.

coach toji, in a suit.

your face breaks into a hot mess, heart skipping a beat as you eye him through your lens. it fits him too well. dark, sharp, shoulders filling it out like it was tailored perfectly. no team jacket today, no morning stumble. no, he looked clean, with polished shoes, and authority. he guides the team forward eyes sweeping the room calmly.

your flash fires once, professionalism wavering again. how can it not when your knight is walking into the room and reminding you exactly how out of reach he is.

the entire team easily spots you in the front row for the first time. your charm hangs from your camera strap, along with the little sticker on your godox flash. they all know who you are now, so their wasn’t any hiding the way they’d purposely glance at your camera lens, giving you their best shots.

many of the questions are being directed towards the coach, your eyes focus on his reaction, lens zooming close as he rolls his dress shirt over his forearms. your camera flashes and your cheeks warm. you do this every time. acting like it’s your first time seeing the coach in a suit even though he wears one every semifinals press. but you can’t help it!

journalists throw questions without breath, firing rounds until the set time is up.

“photographers only, please.”

the room clears out fast. chairs scrape back, and laptops snap shut. you step forward instinctively, already lifting your camera. the players shift back into place. sukuna straightens, his expression resetting into something stoic. gojo cracks a joke under his breath that earns him a look. geto adjusts his sleeves, calm as ever.

toji moves standing just off to the side at first, arms crossed, smooth dress shirt crinkling over his taut muscles, and unforgiving across his shoulders.

the manager gestures. “let’s get the team all together first.”

cameras flash as the team pose, all in their uniform. you move easily getting their shots, unaware of the emerald eyes watching your every move.

coach toji noticed you the minute he stepped into the room. however, he remained composed, knowing how many eyes were on him. but now, his eyes sweep over your figure.

your grey dress pants hugging that right ass, and those hips. the tight dress shirt hugged your frame, with the top buttons undone allowing some of your cleavage to be revealed along with your necklace stack. business casual, but he’s sure half the team is looking at your tits. your pretty anklet catching the light as you move in your kitten heels.

“coach with sukuna,” the manager says.

toji steps forward.

you track him without thinking, framing the shot as he places a hand lightly at sukuna’s back, guiding him a half-step to the left. your shutter clicks, noticing how easily he steps into your frame, how naturally he fills it. his height just a hair taller than the hot headed captain, at least in your eyes.

“alright, another group photo,” the manager says.

toji turns, motioning the players in with two fingers. his eyes briefly catch yours making your eyes widen. the team clusters around their coach, heads bowed slightly, listening even though there’s nothing to hear. he speaks low anyway. you circle to the side, careful, capturing the curve of his shoulder, the way his jaw tightens when he focuses.

toji’s gaze lifts again, slow and deliberate, landing on you.

why does he keep doing that?!

it’s brief. just a glance that lingers a fraction longer, his eyes flick from your face to the camera in your hands and back again, like he’s remembering the photos he saw on your camera.

you feel heat blooming under your skin, pulse kicking hard enough to throw you off guard. you steady your hands, inhaling subtly, pretending you don’t feel the way the air shifts when he turns slightly…when he ends up closer than before, just at the edge of your frame.

“okay, we’re good,” the manager calls.

the team breaks, the players disperse, but toji stays put for a beat longer, adjusting his sleeve, posture relaxed again, unreadable.

you lower your camera only when it’s over, breath leaving you in a quiet rush you didn’t realize you were holding. you don’t see him glance at you when you step back to check your photos. you also don’t notice the small, satisfied curve of his mouth.

not until you’re feeling a gentle, firm, hand on your waist, and a low voice right against your ear, “say hi next time. you’re not a stranger anymore.”

your body immediately catches on fire, eyes snapping to the man like a magnet, heart slamming against your ribs as you watch him pull back, emerald eyes meeting yours.

“right, sweetheart?”

your face stings, as you nod quickly, heat pooling deep in your stomach, feeling his thumb caress your hip over your shirt. your lips part, mind dizzy as you glance as his strong forearms, he’s towering over you, slightly leaning down to speak to you in quiet whispers.

“I’ll see c’ya tomorrow, yeah,” he gives your waist a squeeze as he greets you with a kiss to your cheek like some gentleman. then he walks away. and if you weren’t a mess before, the casual glance he shoots over his shoulder has a third arrow piercing your heart.

you couldn’t contain it anymore. you were consumed by this man. every waking thought was spent daydreaming about him— his voice, his eyes, his hands, his demeanor. it was intoxicating.

all for you to show up in the lockerroom, the next day, hours before the match. the team is either dressed in their uniforms, or still shirtless, huddling around the white board as they prep for the game.

geto was the second to notice you, after gojo. both their eyes twinkling as they walk up to you. “they gave you the pass,” geto nods to the press badge around your neck.

you nod, glancing around the lockerroom. it felt tense, the aura suspenseful as the time ticks closer to when they walk onto the pitch.

“get your vip shots, but you better get my photo,” geto hushes in your ear.

“and mine!” gojo blurts, just as a certain coach is stepping out of the steam.

and you feel it. the towel wrapped low around his waist, skin still slick with water that traces unhurried paths down his sculpted torso. his hair is darker when it’s wet, heavier, droplets slide from it and disappear along the hard lines of his shoulders.

your eyes catch his muscles moving when he walks, hard mass, that shifts beneath skin without effort. you swallow thickly, body heating up, stomach fluttering as you catch the trail of dark coarse hair leading down from his navel, and disappearing beneath the towel. your eyes follow it to the bulge you know is under there. your cheeks sting at the thought of it.

you were utterly shameless. as if the two men standing beside aren’t still talking to you. but they immediately recognize the shift in your attitude and notice the steam leaving your face. gojo stifles a laugh, as geto sighs. you’re hopeless.

your eyes follow the scars you’ve never seen before. the old pale marks catch the light, etched across his side, his pecs, and back, proof of some life before this one. then he turns just enough and your heart stutters, and your panties soak.

ink blooms along his ribs where the towel dips. the tattoos are sharp and intimate, black against his skin that’s still flushed from the heat. you’ve photographed him dozens of times, from every angle, but you’ve never seen a peak of a tattoo.

“how wet are you right now?”

the comment snaps you back, glaring straight at the crystal ocean eyes narrowed in amusement.

“don’t talk to me like that,” you huff, “I’m working.” your attitude really is night and day when it comes to anyone else and toji.

gojo blushes, “I love mean girls.”

you roll your eyes.

“what’re you two doing? get the fuck over here,” sukuna snaps.

the team huddles as the fifteen minute timer starts. and that’s what you should be photographing, but instead you glance back. toji is now pulling up his pants, wet hair still dripping down the expanse of his back. his eyes catch yours for a second, gaze flicking to your camera, taunting…

his hand subtly cups his crotch, squeezing his girth just to present you with a size, one that has your lips parting with a shaky exhale, heart pounding as you glance between his emerald eyes and the way his forearms flex when he fixes the waistband of his boxers, pulling the material down just a bit that you catch more of the thick patch of hair at his base seeing a peak of it, before he’s fixing himself again.

and once he zips his pants up, glancing at the team as they huddle for some words from the captain before coach steps in, toji walks to you. just a few feet away, your eyes widen in surprise, heart stuttering as you watch him lean down to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, again!

he’s acting like you’re familiar even though this is just your third interaction with him…but maybe you are…

“thought I told you to say hi next time,” he says against your ear, pulling away.

your face heats up, “you were….changing.”

“so?”

you gulp, eyes flicking between his, heart pounding. he’s so close. your breath catches when his scent hits your nose, sandalwood, oak and something deeper under it. his stubble is darker than yesterday, rougher along his jaw, and you realize you’ve been staring for too long when the heat creeps up your neck.

he doesn’t move away though, he stands beside you, attention forward on sukuna as he speaks. focused, and so aware of you’re attention he has to hold back a smirk. and maybe he doesn’t mind messing with you, so his hand remains at your lower back, light, almost absent, but there.

your stomach flips, attention gone. you try to listen, you do. sukuna is talking about positioning, about discipline, about not getting sloppy or something and the room is locking in around you, everyone leaning in. these would be great photos—but all you can think about is how close he is.

how his hand hasn’t moved, every small shift makes your pulse jump. you keep your eyes forward. you don’t trust yourself to look at him again.

and that gives toji the opportunity to take you in. his pupils dilate just a fraction as his gaze travels down your body. his eyes zero in on the multiple open buttons of your tight dress shirt. you’re not even hiding yourself, and the sliver of skin that peaks between your pants and shirt doesn’t help.

his hand remains over your clothes, heat settling in his stomach when you take a deeper breath and your tits push up, and his eyes shamelessly look down your shirt from his towering height. fuck, he wants a look at that pretty ass too—

“coach! you’re up!” sukuna’s voice cuts through everything, snapping toji back. your gaze whips with it, catching him off guard as you wait for his next move like anything he touches is gold.

he controls himself, giving your waist that same squeeze before his hand leaves you just like that.

you push down the feeling that hits immediately, sharp and cold. but now you can finally breathe properly when he steps away. he moves past the players without rushing — a few of the boys let their eyes roam over you— toji adjusts his sleeve ignoring the feeling bubbling up when he notices them. and then he’s at the front.

he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t need to now, but he usually gets to that point around the halfway mark. but this was the first time you’re seeing him speak in private…and when he speaks, they all listen—every single one of them.

gojo notices, gossip second nature to him. but the quick glance your way already has a grin tugging at his mouth before he nudges geto. geto follows his gaze, then sukuna does too, just briefly—and it’s obvious. painfully obvious. the way your expression softens, the way your attention doesn’t wavers. it’s written all over you.

“she’s actually really hot,” gojo comments.

though you wish you could stand there forever, the time finally comes for the team to head to the pitch, and that’s when the chaos begins.

not just on the field…but off it.

the press box is packed, bodies press against you shoulder to shoulder. the field below is relentless. everything fast, and aggressive, and loud enough that the noise bleeds through everything. you always forget how overstimulating and exhilarating semifinal matches are. but you remember the deal you made with the three stars.

your camera moves with them, tracking their plays, snapping multiple shots of them without hesitation, and then catching the moment when things go wrong...

sukuna gets taken down hard during a penalty shot—and there’s no whistle. no call.

you’re already shooting when the other team pushes, then scores, and the stadium erupts, but sukuna is on his feet, shouting. the goal should be discounted. the captain was known to be a hot head, but even you could see that the tackle he received was completely brushed off by the ref and he was right.

everyone watches as the team moves forward in defense of sukuna, but also holding him back. the other side meets them just as hard. the crowd shouts as they watch the players shove, yell, and slam into each other—and through it all you keep shooting. you catch toji too, voice cutting through the chaos as he orders his players to pull sukuna back.

the press talk amongst themselves as halftime quickly breaks up the argument. your feet quickly carry you out of the press box, towards the locker room.

“no locker room access.”

your jaw tightens immediately irritation flaring hot and sharp.

“I have a different badge,” you show the security guard your press ID. the one geto gave you.

“no press allowed, do i need to repeat myself?” the man snaps.

your irritation ticks at your side. fine. whatever. the second you step back, your mind is already running, already circling back to geto. you scoff under your breath, shaking your head as you pace along the corridor, camera swinging lightly at your side.

seriously? all that talk, all that stupid ass convincing, and for what? you were supposed to be there. that was the whole point! you roll your eyes, heat building the longer you think about it, every step feeding into this petty irritation instead of cooling it. were you overreacting —yes, but whatever—if he’s not holding up his end, then why should you?

by the time you make it back up, you’re done. done thinking about it, done entertaining it, done with their stupid deal.

the second half starts and you fall back into rhythm. camera up, focus sharp, and attention on only one thing now, the ball….

gojo and geto drift near the press box occasionally, clearly expecting something, acknowledgment, a photo, but you don’t even bat an eye. not a look, not a flicker, hell, they might as well not exist.

it’s almost satisfying. almost.

the final whistle blows and the stadium erupts, the first leg ended in a draw, preparing for next game to see who’ll continue. cameras around you go wild, capturing every second of it. the quiet annoyance of both teams, the noise in the crowd. but you don’t. you lower yours, expression flat, already turning away. it’s petty. a little unfair, but still, you walk.

“you’re not coming to the locker room?” gojo’s voice follows you, footsteps quick behind yours as you head in the opposite direction.

“why would i?” you snap, sharp, not even slowing. “am i even allowed,” there’s an obvious clip in your tone that has gojo confused.

“what’re you talking about?”

“deal’s off.”

huh?!????

gojo barely has time to react, before you’re walking away.

baffled and utterly confused, gojo makes his way back to the locker rooms. the energy is stiff, sukuna is grumbling under his breath about how embarrassing it was to end their first leg in a draw, geto is lounged beside his bag scrolling on his phone, and toji is in the corner talking to the managers. ugh, does no one care that their personal photographer isn’t taking photos of them???

they do care.

especially when the next paper comes out and the article is filled with photos taken by other people, not you!

“WHY THE FUCK DO I LOOK LIKE THAT!??” sukuna shouts, entire body fumming as they all sit outside during practice. sukuna is not the only one pissed, geto is practically seething because there isn’t even a single photo of him or gojo.

“what is this girl’s problem?! i thought you idiots made a deal with her?!” sukuna snaps, already in a foul mood, but now it’s worse.

geto licks his teeth, jaw ticking, “we did.”

“I told you guys she was pissed that she didn’t come in during halftime,” gojo throws, as if anyone was listening to him after their shitty match.

“so she throws a tantrum because she didn’t see coach’s dick during halftime?” sukuna clips.

“she looked super hot when she was all pissed though,” gojo throws, “she’d definitely go for me after she realizes how old coach is.”

“what’s wrong with you?” geto rolls his eyes, confused how gojo can talk about your looks when you screwed them over. even if he maybe also finds you attractive, it doesn’t negate your shitty attitude.

gojo throws his hands up in defensive, “I’m just calling dibs now.”

toji, just a few feet away, strides over after noticing the group no longer doing drills. “what’s the hold up!” he grunts, also in a shit mood because of the embarrassing match and then overheating what gojo had said.

“your stalker fucked us over,” geto snaps, eyes burning into the school paper. “she didn’t even get a pic of you.”

gojo’s eyes light up, “oh shit, yeah—she’s definitely over you!”

the paper then hits toji’s chest, his brows furrowing as he holds it up. his eyes glance over the sports section, and just as geto had stated, there wasn’t a single photo of him, unless you’re counting the wide shot of the field and you see him standing in the corner, but it definitely was a starch contrast from the streak you’d created.

“so?” toji tosses the paper like it’s nothing, “you guys playing for the cameras or because you want to win?!”

the men baffled, gasp and scoff. “we want to win!”

“then get off your fucking asses! I don’t have time to be doing this shit with you all!” he snaps aggressively, uncharacteristically pissed off, whether it’s because of the teams misdirected frustrations, or something else. either way, the school paper is long forgotten beside their bags and the team is splitting into practice teams.

it doesn’t matter…

it doesn’t matter that you made a deal with suguru geto and satoru gojo. and the captain pushed you to seal that deal with the information about coach — and they broke it. none of it matters! you still should’ve taken those photos, especially when you’re receiving an earful from your editor, and then sulking through the week of classes.

“what’s your problem,” your friend, shoko, cuts in, snapping you back to the campus day festival. you were once again sulking on the picnic bench, ice cream melting in the cup as you stare off.

“you’re gonna get annoyed…” you mutter, brows pinched in agony.

for most passing by, they immediately steered clear of you, not only did you carry a lethal rbf, your words of “agony” really translates to, you’ll rip someone’s head off and if looks could kill, everyone would be dead. it was quite funny, considering how you’re pretty sweet when you want to be, shoko quietly thinks. still, most would rather avoid you, thanking the heavens that you stay behind the camera so you don’t interact directly with people.

“don’t start,” shoko groans, piecing together the not so subtle mystery.

you frown, “i didn’t even say anything!” you whine even more, glaring at your ice cream. your pretty camera sits on the table beside you, collecting dust when you should be photographing this event. “I just screwed myself over,” your tongue laps at the dripping ice cream.

“agreed.”

your glare snaps to your friend, to which she brushes off with a shrug.

“you should’ve taken those photos,” she starts.

“I know…”

“then you would’ve made your editor happy,”

“I know…”

“and then you wouldn’t have to do this event.”

“I know.”

“and you’d have more weird pictures of coach toji.”

your heart drops. eyes snapping to shoko. “what?!”

shoko goes mute. suddenly realizing what she said. “nothing.”

“pictures?” you repeat, “I have weird pictures of the coach?? I don’t—why would you even say that??“ you’re not subtle at all. and shoko feels guilty at your horrible lying skills, but still…she confesses…

“you uploaded photos to your drive, when we’d study together,” she tries to hold in her laugh as heat crawls up your neck, “like more than once.”

you glance away, eyes flicking over your camera, “that’s it?”

shoko raises a brow. “yeah…what do you mean?”

you look back, “like that’s how you know, it’s not like you heard from someone else or anything?”

shoko shakes her head, “no, who else would know?”

your cheeks are burning at this point, and it was written all over your face now. the realization hit shoko in seconds. “no…” you’re silent. “does the coach know about your photos?”

you don’t want to make eye contact.

“how?!!”

even though it happened days ago, why is it now starting to feel even more embarrassing. maybe because of your cool headed friends reaction— “it was an accident.”

“how did he find out though?” shoko pushes.

you cringe, “well…” you swallow, “when I first spoke to him, remember…” shoko nods, “I let him use my camera because he was interested.” you pause, reliving the humiliation all over again. “then he kept swiping to see the pics, and just found them…” your hands slap your face, “that’s not bad!”

shoko is getting second hand embarrassment, “dude.”

“STOP IM GONNA KILL MYSELF!!” you cry out, humiliation seeping from your pores.

shoko is trying not to laugh, but it’s quite hard not too, especially when you’re groaning like that. “what was his reaction?”

“I obviously said it was an accident, and he was like whatever and seemed fine,” you explain quickly, trying to cool the situation. “It’s not bad!”

“okay okay!!” shoko laughs, trying to calm your reaction. however, shoko knows about your huge crush, what she didn’t know is about a deal her two friends made with you. heck, she didn’t even know that you interacted with them. not until those two men are standing directly behind you, sweaty and pissed. “what the hell—“

“I guess you don’t know how to keep your word,” geto spits, bag dropping aggressively on the bench beside you.

you jump, then, your eyes flick over your shoulder, immediately rolling them when you see them. you turn back to shoko.

geto snaps. “there wasn’t a single photo of us!”

“not my problem,” you scoff, attitude returning in seconds, shoko completely used to it. but she’s shocked that you know gojo and geto. “not like you guys even played well.”

gojo’s vein bulges, “we played fucking good, we didn’t lose!”

“you didn’t win,” you shrug, cold.

that’s when gojo and geto both glance up at shoko. shock crossing their expressions. “you know her?!” they both point down at you.

shoko raises a brow, “she’s my friend.”

“she’s a bitch—“ geto spits, just to receive the worst glare of his life from you, but he just rolls his eyes. “how the fuck do you know each other?”

“I just told you she’s my friend. you’re the ones that screwed her over.” shoko takes your side.

gojo gasps, “we didn’t screw her over! she screwed us over! you saw the paper this week—not a single highlight!”

you glance at shoko, ignoring the men behind you, “how do you know them?”

“we went to high school together,” shoko throws with a bored wave.

frustrated, geto straddles the bench facing you, his hand falls on top of your camera, immediately making you snap your attention to him.

“hey—“

“listen. our deal was that you get access and then we get photos, you didn’t finish your job,” he keeps a grip on your camera. shoko frowns.

“you guys didn’t give me access—i got like ten minutes before the match, then I couldn’t even go in during halftime where everyone was pissed, so what’s the point?” you snap, getting in his face.

“the point is that has nothing to do with me!” geto shouts, your eyes pierce his in two, but neither of you back down.

“it literally does though!”

“guys,” shoko and gojo attempt at intervening, but neither of you will back down. especially when geto won’t let go of your camera.

“let go,” you seethe, hand on the camera as geto flexes, grip strengthening around it.

your heart pounds against your chest, the hot spring sun beats over the four of you, sweat building on your neck while geto scoffs. “you better take those photos of us this week—“

“or what?” you glare, “are you seriously threatening me?” you were dripping with ego and confidence, except for the fact that your eyes kept darting to your camera, your poor, expensive, beautiful camera—

“is this your first time being threatened—“

“the fuck.”

the deep, intimidating voice breaks the argument in seconds. geto’s eyes widen as he feels the gravity taken away from him and being lifted off the seat. the collar of his jersey tightens around none other than toji’s brutal grip.

your eyes break into hearts, grasping your camera before it clatters back on the table, glancing up to see geto gripping his coach’s forearm.

“since when do you fucking shout at girls. you?!” toji barks, baffled. sukuna sure, gojo maybe, but geto?!

“I wasn’t fucking shouting, we were talking,” geto tsks, neck red from embarrassment.

toji shoves him back. geto slams on the bench. you hadn’t realized it but they all looked like they just finished practice, geto and gojo both still in practice uniforms and duffle bags, and coach toji wearing his usual black cargos, and that compression shirt that left nothing to the imagination.

geto scowls, rubbing his back in pain.

“you were shouting, that’s why i came over—“

“she was shouting at me!”

“so what!?”

the table is quiet. a few passerby’s glance over before quickly walking away. it isn’t a shock to know how unbelievably hot your face is right now. especially when coach toji continues his stern lecture to geto.

“you’re defending some girl that can’t keep her word, mind you,” geto mutters, flashing you a glare—his breath catches. you’re not even looking at him!! shoko stifles another laugh along with gojo, because you really were, truly, unbelievable.

how can you look at someone like that?!? like he’s some idol?! him! a musty ass college coach?!

but none of it mattered, not when toji’s attention shifts to you!!! a warm heat floods between your legs, as your lips part. then suddenly, you glance away…

“I actually did shout too…” you confess, taking accountability. “and kinda screwed them over.”

gojo, geto, and shoko, stare at you in shock.

toji sighs, like some grown ass man (which he is), his hand settles on his hip as the other scratches his hair like he’s surrounded by immature children and figuring out what the fuck to do with you all. so he decides to confess too…

“i told security not to allow any outsiders.”

your heart drops.

“including you.”

oh shit.

the three audience members immediately glance at you, and what none of them, not a single one, expected, is to suddenly see the your eyes tear up.

toji felt a sharp twist in his gut, eyes widening for a moment, before sighing. “it wasn’t personal.”

your throat feels dry, unable to look away until now. a tear hits your camera. “how is that not personal,” you whisper, bottom lip trembling.

shoko’s brows pinch in hurt, at least out of everyone, she knows how much and how long you’ve liked this man. and then sulking and now— she knows you’re absolutely shattered.

“I needed the team to focus, and you’re press,” he states like some cold fact, and that hurt even more.

your grip tightens on the camera. “but…” your not a stranger anymore…. but you can’t get the words out…your heart pounds loudly in your ears, the heat surrounding you felt suffocating, and your head was growing dizzier by the second. and the only thing spinning in your mind was how fucking embarrassing this is.

“don’t be upset.”

you manage a small nod, though another tear falls on the camera, and your body freezes. “how can i not be upset?” your small voice catches toji off guard.

you’re standing up, eyes hot with tears, walking past the esteemed coach.

“wait,” he catches your wrist, “if you have something to say don’t just run away.”

you’re fuming, your pretty chest rises and falls, the disappointment turning into built up anger, “I don’t have anything to say right now, and it’s stupid—“ your hand twists in his grip. “let go.”

he does.

you’re practically heaving, tempted to turn away, especially when the dryness in your throat gets worse. the stinging behind your eyes burns like hell as you try to rip your gaze away from the towering man. you really are stupid…

toji wets his lip, head tilting as if disinterested, but the cooling in his chest says otherwise. why does he have a weak spot for women?

“we can talk.”

his words hang in the air. a silent, open invitation for her. it’s a clear sign of his guilt for making this cute college girl cry. he was too blunt, forgetting she isn’t one of his boys.

your hand comes up to the bridge of your nose, quietly recentering yourself as this older coach watches. your shoulders rise with a deep exhale, then inhale.

pull yourself together…

you nod. cute.

you swallow the embarrassing lump in your throat, clearing your throat. “can we talk while walking…I have to work,” your usual clipped tone used for everyone except him, comes out, but he can hear the slight shakiness.

“sure.”

gojo, geto, and shoko are left in utter shock. it’s not until you and toji completely disappear into the crowd, do they slowly exchange looks.

“what…”

“the fuck,” geto finishes shoko’s sentence.

gojo stares baffled, “did we just set them up?!”

geto’s brow jumps up, “why is he always saving her like some knight?? and he was the one that screwed us all over!!”

gojo shakes his head in agreement, “nah for real, what the hell, blaming us but it’s all him.”

geto slouches back in the picnic table, rolling his eyes. “still,” he tsks, “she didn’t have to be so bitchy and not take our pictures. isn’t it her fucking job—“

“hey!”

“ow!” geto feels a slap upside the head from brunette, her eyes harsh. “what the hell!”

“don’t call girls bitches what’s wrong with you?!” shoko huffs, baffled by geto’s attitude.

gojo snickers beside the man, “he’s been like this since he met her.”

“I haven’t,” he grits, rolling his eyes at the thought of you. “she’s just a—she just gets on my nerves.”

“really because she reminds me of you,” shoko cuts him off. geto’s eyes widen, as gojo breaks into a loud laugh.

“WHAT?!”

“oh god BAHAHA she does!” gojo’s obnoxious laugh sounds like knives stabbing his ears.

shoko hums, “she has that rbf look, intimidating, very blunt, but also so cute with her friends.”

“cute?” geto frowns.

gojo smiles, “it comes out when you’re hanging out with ussss.” gojo and shoko dramatically strike a cute pose. geto tsks.

the campus was packed with students and faculty roaming to booths and small events. it was the university’s 102nd anniversary, and as memorable as it is for the students to enjoy the activities during this nice spring day, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a shit.

not only did your editor scream at you all week, still pissed about the shit photos you took during the match, he also threatened removal if you didn’t take good photos during this event. and now, after sulking with shoko, then procrastinating some more, you decided you’d be able to take such fanatic pictures while your idol and crush trails beside you….sure.

toji lets out another sigh, hands in his pockets as he stands to your left watching you snap some shots of laughing students beside a booth.

“it’s not a big deal,” you mutter, behind the camera. toji notices the twitch in your fingers. “I overreacted, so it’s whatever.”

toji wets his lip, “sukuna and a couple others jus’ get jumpy with cameras.”

you hum, looking at the photos you just took. “I understand.”

“I didn’t know about this deal you did with geto,” toji admits, hand instinctively coming to your waist and guiding you away from some unaware boys shouting and laughing. your cheeks flush, stepping away from his hand. toji notices. “we didn’t have a good game anyways.”

“I know, so it whatever. not a big deal,” you sigh, heat crawling up your neck. this is so embarrassing, so embarrassing! ugh you really don’t know how to keep a cool head at all when it comes to this coach. you overreacted during the match, then blamed geto for screwing you over, then almost cried because the coach locked you out on purpose, and now—

“I feel bad.”

your heart stops.

toji glances at your manicured nails holding your camera, your cute necklaces dangling on your exposed chest, cleavage glistening from the heat. but then his eyes flick up, and you’re staring at him like he’s holding the entire world.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” his voice is softer, gentler, nothing like how you’ve heard him for months, shouting, harsh. your stomach heats up, face stinging.

his hand, unexpectedly, comes up, feeling your hair between his fingers. “you work hard, and all your pictures come out so nice…” the compliment hits your heart. “but I couldn’t risk the boys getting distracted.”

your face suddenly twists, lips pursing and jutting out just a bit, your brows pinch. your dewy makeup makes you look like a fucking doll, he thinks. “I was jus’ gonna take photos in the corner, not interview them,” you reply harshly.

“you saw how they are when they talk to you,” he cuts in. your brow quirks, noticing his sharp inhale. “sweetheart, you’re hot.”

your face bursts into flames, pupils turning to literal swirls, and brain getting fried in seconds.

what?!

your reaction was priceless. toji controls his smirk, thumb brushing your adorable cheek, glancing at your glossy lips then your eyes. “I know you’re a professional, but most of those boys aren’t, y’ understand?”

you nod, cheeks sizzling, you’re surprised his thumb isn’t burning.

“so you see why I couldn’t allow you in the locker room then, and i won’t next time,” he watches you nod again. god, you’re fucking precious.

then, your tongue wets your bottom lip before speaking… “are they the only ones that would’ve been distracted?”

shit. can a grown man really pop a boner that fast?

toji’s chest heats up, glancing between your pretty eyes filled with hope. this isn’t the first time a younger girl has crushed on him, and it also isn’t the first time he’s nice to one. but what really got him, is the way you’re maintaining eye contact, almost afraid to look away, and you’re holding your ground against him.

“no,” he admits, “they’re not the only ones.”

oh. your lips curve into a smile toji hasn’t seen before, and his hand flexes in response. you look like you’re going to eat him alive right there, and he’d let you, no questions asked—

“that’s good to hear,” you pull away. you touch your heated cheek with the back of your hand, wetting your lip as you glance over the coach’s flushed face. “your cheeks are red.”

what?! his eyes bulge, catching you off guard as you break into a loud laugh.

“tch,” he looks away, his own hand rubbing down his face. it really is burning out here. but even so, his emerald eyes look through his fingers at this pretty college girl laughing at him and he doesn’t know why his chest warms at the sight.

“I can buy you ice cream. I feel bad now that you had to explain yourself when I was just being the unprofessional one,” you start, already leading him to the nearest ice cream booth.

your camera hangs over your shoulder as you point to your favorite flavor than glance up at him, he points at the cookies n cream. “oh! I love cookies n cream,” you say, reaching for your phone to pay.

ding.

your eyes widen as toji pays instead.

“wha—it was supposed to be my treat, man,” you huff, accepting the cone he gives you, hand on your lower back as he guides you away from the booth. neither of you batting an eye to the multiple people gawking at the renowned coach of their soccer team, walking around with the hot, rude, student photographer.

“as if I’d let you pay,” he snorts.

your brows pinch as you take a lick of your ice cream, the cool sensation leveling your body temperature. your eyes narrow at him as he enjoys his ice cream, grateful to have something that cools the heat building up under his skin. “so not fair,” you mutter.

“how come?”

the two of you walk across the quad, sun still beating down.

“I wanted to use it as an apology,” you say, “I said that.”

“you don’t need to apologize,” he shrugs, casual, unbothered. you huff again. this time toji smiles, scar twitching up. “you can pay next time.”

your heart skips a beat, stomach doing a stupid flip.

“….next time.”

toji catches the smile behind your cone, his eyes trailing over the ice cream coating your tongue, your pretty hand wrapped around the waffle as your bracelets clank around your wrists.

“there’s other things you need to apologize for,” he coolly says, finding a bench and dropping his weight, eyeing you as you sit close beside him. unashamed.

your brow quirks, eyes narrowing, full body facing him, “what other things?”

toji shrugs, “we can talk about it next time.”

“but I can’t just be left in suspense, that’ll give me anxiety?!”

toji snorts, loud. his big tongue is finishing the ice cream so quick he’s already eating the cone. “don’t be anxious,” he says with his mouth full.

you tsk, rolling your eyes, and you don’t notice the twinkle in the older coach’s eyes. he can definitely see geto’s point about your attitude, but if he leans over—

your eyes go wide. stomach flipping.

he takes a bold bite of your ice cream, emerald eyes shut, and thick lashes kissing his flushed cheeks. your heart feels like it’ll break from your ribs, then, he opens his eyes. he doesn’t pull away yet, instead his tongue cleans his lips, humming in low delight. the heat around you wasn’t helping your own body temperature as it skyrockets.

“taste’s sweeter than mine,” his voice his huskier than before, catching you by surprise, and the heat pools between your legs.

“i—“ you can’t even form words! your eyes won’t tear away from his lips, and your chest is moving erratically because he’s so close.

“do you want a taste of mine. I took a bite without asking yo—“

his words cut the minute your lips press against his.

shock prevents him from reacting, eyes going wide. you gave in so quick, sure he was teasing, but still. he could feel the certainty in your kiss, along with the warmth, and anxiety. after a long ten seconds you pull away—

you pant against his lips, chest rising and falling, brain scrambled. “i jus’…” your heart is beating loudly in your ears. mind trying to keep up with what your body just did. you kissed him. you kissed the coach. the one you’ve been idolizing and photographing for months—

“we can do it again.” his free hand tilts your chin up, lips hovering over yours again. his breath is warm. “kiss me.”

you do.

this time you’re a little bolder. your lips connect with his, soft again, sucking his bottom lip, skillfully. slowly. he brushes your jaw with his thumb, humming in delight just like he did with the ice cream. but the sound goes straight to your core. completely unbothered by the rowdiness of the uni day activities around you. your free hand rests on his thigh, leaning more into the kiss.

“open,” you murmur against his lips. you can feel the the shit-eating smirk that breaks his face, groaning just low enough to make the heat furiously spread under your skin.

then, his lips part.

his tongue immediately connects with yours. caressing the wet muscle. he tastes the ice cream, delving a little more. it was just so easy taking control, and your little whines are too sweet for him to stop. his jaw opens wider, taking the lead as you follow. his hand cups the side of your face, unexpectedly possessive, ignoring the alarms sounding off in his head.

you had a crush, you’re fucking adorable, and you kissed him. plus, you make these cute sounds when he shoves his tongue against yours, thumb pressing into your cheek. how could he resist?

your grip against his thigh tightens, his back is pressed fully against the bench, while you were practically leaning over him, trying to swallow him whole.

“breathe,” he mutters, lips hovering close, waiting for you to inhale. his scar quirks up, you’re so cute. his thumb brushes your cheekbone again, eyes glancing between your fluttering lashes. “if we keep kissing, I’ll have a problem.”

your face burns, eyes darting down to the tent pressing up near your hand. and unlike toji, you let your second ice cream of the day melt and fall to the ground. you were a mess. you carefully lean back in your seat, the sudden space between you allowing you to take another deep breath. being near coach toji is intoxicating. it’s not that you didn’t feel like yourself, but you definitely throw all common sense out the door when he’s in front of you.

“are you staying to see the booths and stuff?” you clear your throat, trying to ease your erratic heartbeat.

toji finds it cute. his hand once cupping your face, slides down to brush the hair off your shoulder, fingers brushing the multiple earrings that dangle from your piercings. you’re much more stylish than he is…your accessories, the cute tank top that hugs your breasts, and embroidered low rise flared jeans.

“nah, gotta drive back home so i can take my son to practice.”

toji eases, not a single thing can bother him. it was a routine, the subtle throw away line about having a son that scared off many young women, or had them wanting a one night stand with the older dilf. so his eyes flick over you, the second he finishes his sentence.

your freeze.

your blood runs cold, eyes flicking down to his ring finger.

even if you’re looking, you know he isn’t married. you know. you’ve been photographing him for months, and not a single time have you ever seen him daunt a ring on his finger.

“there’s no one waiting for him at home?” you question, wetting your lip.

toji’s fingers slide from your earrings to the dried ice cream on your chin. “nah, if I’m late he’ll go to his friends house.”

you nod, anxiety slowly dissipating. “how old is he?”

“ten.”

your eyes light up, “my nephew is just a year older, that’s when they get really fun to hang out with,” your voice is so light and sweet, toji has to shove down the weird somersault his stomach does.

“really?” toji is not convinced. “all my son does is give me attitude and bully everything i do.”

you laugh, waving your hand, “yeah they get super opinionated, but it’s funny—trust trust he’s just doing it because you’re an easy target.”

“I’m an easy target.”

you nod, waving a hand again, “your his dad, my brothers and i were the same to our parents.”

brothers? toji doesn’t comment how that peaks his interest, but he naturally asks, “how many siblings do you have?”

“three older brothers,” you nod.

damn….toji hums, that explains your attitude and how you can handle geto’s bitchy moods. what also quietly settles in his mind is how your oldest brother would probably be around his age, considering your nephew is a year older than megumi. is that why you’re easily holding a conversation this long…maybe the age gap isn’t that big then…

“they were so freakin bossy, definitely why i pushed to dorm away from them,” you huff, toji zoning back into your rambling. it was cute watching you talk mindlessly, hands waving making your bracelets clank against each other. the sweat glistened across your skin, making you look eternal, which is amusing since you’re just talking.

but still, toji is the one to lean up this time. his hand settling on your waist as a anchor and he presses a firm kiss to your warm cheek.

your glossy lips part in shock, heart stuttering again. unbothered, toji casually stands up, towering over you as his hand gently settles atop your head. “i have’ta get going, but I’ll see you next week for the match. I’ll also let em know you can come in before and after the game, but not during halftime. okay?”

you nod.

“I’ll see ya’ sweetheart.”

and with a wink, he solidifies the fourth arrow straight through your heart.

—

it was very likely that your entire week looked like sunshine and rainbows, all because you had a full on make out session with your idol on a park bench. you couldn’t bring yourself to care much about anything else—well except for your job. you had to scramble to get photos after toji left, afraid of staying on your editor’s bad side.

luckily you pulled through, and convinced him to keep you on for the semi final match this coming weekend.

which leads you to your current blissful state. watching toji speak to the team in the locker rooms. unlike last time, you grabbed different shots, smiling every time toji glanced at the camera, but frowning any time any of the other boys looked.

“surprise surprise, couldn’t stay away too long,” gojo coo’s after the team breaks to finish changing.

“don’t bother me or I won’t take photos of you,” you throw, eyes flicking up at the tall man.

gojo pouts, “but I’m just talking to you,” his words drag.

geto is scowling a few feet away, jaw tightening and relaxing, until he finally comes up to you. your attitude shifts, eyes narrowing up. geto holds eye contact, chest rising with a subtle inhale. but once he exhales, his shoulders ease, and his eyes close, the fakest smile you’ve ever seen graces his naturally attractive features.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your photos after the game.”

your lips purse, brow quirking. “yeah…”

geto leaves. shortly after, the team gets called out. gojo utters the same line geto had just said, but much more cheerfully, all while toji walks up to you. brow furrowing at the two athletes as they walk towards the exit.

“they still bothering you?”

your eyes light up the moment you see him. “s’ fine,” your pretty lips pull into an easy smile, unexpectedly warming the coach’s heart. is it that easy to smile because of him?

“I’ll tell them to fuck off again,” his voice is naturally deep, hand subconsciously roaming up to the strap of your camera.

you smile, “okay.”

god, you’re really cute. his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and easily locking lips with you.

you’re immediately caught off guard, but his hand is so firm on your cheek, you just melt. your lashes flutter shut, leaning in more. he’s so big and tall. your cheeks sting, humming against his lips, trying to fight off the butterflies in your stomach. but it’s worse when he pulls away, and your heart leaps into your throat as he brushes his rough thumb against your lip, dragging the spit across the plumpness.

“I’ll c’ya after.” he winks.

you barely feel your feet when you step back out onto the field. your camera in hand, strap tight around your neck, everything exactly where it should be, and still, your entire body is giddy.

toji….toji toji toji—

you press your lips together, trying to fight it down, but it’s useless. your mouth keeps twitching, threatening to break into a smile and you can’t help it! he kissed you. twice now! like it was nothing—

you snap a shot.

sukuna’s first goal. the team and stadium erupts, and you’re already capturing it, body moving before your thoughts can catch up. you don’t need your editor screaming at you this time, so you shift angles, crouch lower, shoot through. geto lines up for a penalty shot, and you catch that too. the strike, the follow-through, and the way the net snaps back as the ball hits. you don’t miss a second of it.

but…inevitably…your lens drifts…to him. you can’t help it!

toji’s on the sidelines, where he always is. his sleeves are pushed up again, pacing, shouting, running a hand through his hair. you catch the flex of his arm, his biceps bulge and you feel heat pooling between your legs. you catch the drag of his palm across his broad huge chest, the set of his jaw when gojo almost tackles into another player.

you shouldn’t be taking this many photos of him. you know that, but you take them anyway. your chest feels tight with every picture, cheeks still burning, and your smile impossible to get rid of.

halftime comes and goes, and you don’t even try to get into the locker room this time. instead, you linger with the rest of the press, nodding along to conversations, camera hanging loose in your hands. you don’t care. not really. not when your mind keeps replaying it—his hand on your face, the way he looked at you after, the wink.

the second half starts and you’re back in position immediately. getting more action shots of the players—ugh but you keep stealing other moments too…small unnecessary ones. his biceps when he folds his arms. the scratch of his chest. the tilt of his head as he watches the field.

your thoughts don’t stop. why did he kiss you? why did he kiss you again? what is that supposed to mean? is he going to kiss you again??

the spiral doesn’t fully come to an end until the pitch breaks out into celebration. the team is off to the finals!

managers and the rest of the team flood the pitch as the stadium breaks out. you do your best to get the best shots of the team together, and you stay after to capture them talking to journalists, and press. unaware of the coach that slips away.

you follow the team and a couple managers back to the locker room as they continue celebrating. you can’t help the smile about how happy they are, they played well.

“how was the match?” geto corners you quickly.

“good,” you nod casually, fixing your flash. “you guys played really well.”

geto’s brow quirks. that’s nice….his lips purse. “I scored.” he mutters, glancing at the multiple piercings on your ear as you tuck a hair behind it.

“yeah, it was a nice shot,” your eyes flick over your camera before glancing up to meet his eyes, testing, “you wanna see?”

his eyes narrow again, “no.”

he’s quick to ignore your eye roll, as he points over his shoulder. “coach is calling for you.”

you can’t control the way your head whips to geto, then following the direction he’s pointing at. you don’t hesitate, your legs carry you across the locker room, and into the steamed shower room.

your heart hammers against your chest, putting the lens cap back on your camera and carefully sliding it off your shoulder, afraid to step further in until you put it back in your bag.

a single curtain is closed. shower running.

“coach toji?” your voice echos.

there a beat of silence, then…

“that you, sweetheart?”

you flush. controlling the smile that breaks your face as you hum, “yeah.”

the shower is still running, steam collecting in the room. your heart is beating erratically, you barely register anything aside from the fact that coach toji is definitely one hundred percent fully nude just a few feet away. his clothes are laid on his duffle on the bench beside the door.

“sweetheart?”

you jump. “yeah?”

“you gonna come in?”

you blink. again, then once more. then— “WHAT?”

your screech bounces off the tile floors, making you shrink at how loud you are. but it was a normal reaction. he just asked you if you wanted to come in? how else would you react—

“leave your things by my bag,” he doesn’t even react, like what he’s saying is the most casual kind of flirting. the kissing was one thing, but this…

your camera is zipped back in your bag, and in seconds, you’re peeling your panties off standing completely naked in the middle of a shower room. goosebumps break out, necklace and bracelets still on as your nipples harden.

what’re you doing, seriously?

one, this is highly unprofessional (whatever). two, you haven’t even gone a date with this man. and three, w-why would he even ask you to come in?!?! does he like you?! he does—he has too—

your bare feet pad against the steamed tiles until you reach the curtains. your hands won’t stop shaking, face burning hot, and lips parting as you let out a shaky exhale. then, you slowly pull back the curtains—

“come in before someone sees you,” is what you hear just as you’re being dragged into the steaming water, curtain pulled closed behind you.

the steam wraps around your skin instantly, thick and suffocating. your pretty nipples perk up in seconds. and standing right in front of you is the 6’5 two hundred pound man. water cascading down his body in slow, steady streams. you don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until your chest tightens, and your hands hover close to his forearm.

you’re so close.

your gaze is eye level with his broad solid chest, rising and falling slow and controlled like none of this affects him. like you standing in front of him naked is something he expected. but your too dazed to care. especially when you follow the droplets sliding over his muscles, catching the shallow lines as you continue going lower, and lower. the heat pools more obviously between your legs as you see the thick patch of dark coarse hair…then you see it.

your face burns hotter, stomach flipping hard making you even dizzier.

his cock twitches under your gaze. your knees almost buckle just at the sight. it’s huge. you have to suppress a whine, lashes fluttering as you feel a strong hand cup your chin.

“say hi first,” his voice is unbelievably deep, tearing your gaze away from the monster between his legs. his dark forest green eyes sink into you.

“hi.”

shit. he bites back a groan, eyes trailing down your naked body. nipples already perky and standing all pretty for him. his hand comes up, cupping the side of your face as he leans down, lips colliding with yours.

you whine immediately. your lips move together, tongues colliding as your hands slide up his muscular chest, feeling the deep ridges of his abs as he holds the side of your face, dominating the kiss.

it was overwhelming, the shower box, his body heat, his cock touching your thigh, it was all making you dizzy in the best ways possible. he pulls away, letting you catch your breath, but he stays close, brushing his lips over yours like it’s not enough. because it isn’t.

“did anyone see you come in?” he husks, hand still cradling your face as the other brushes your naked waist, pulling you closer. your skin is so soft under his palm.

“no,” you shake your head adorably, tongue poking out to wet your lip, “I don’t think so.”

the older coach hums, his hands freely roaming your side as he nudges your nose with his. “good,” is all he adds before he resumes the heated make out.

your tongues collide and caress, jaw falling slack as you moan a little louder when he grips your ass. groaning into your lip when your arms lock around his shoulders, wet chest pressing against his. you were such a sweet tasting girl.

his hand nudges your thigh. “jump.”

you gasp when he easily picks you up, back already pressed against the tiled wall. the hot water cascades down his back as he continues kissing you. “were you mad at me?”

you pull away, breath hot as you glance at his features. he’s so handsome, your hand cups his face, pushing his drenched raven hair back. “why would I mad?”

“because I kept ya out during halftime.”

you shake your head, lips curving as you trace his wet eyebrows, chest rising and falling. “no,” you drawl, wetting your glossy lips again. “I was jus’ confused about how much you kiss me.”

his scar tugs up, biting back a smirk threatening to break free. “you kissed me first.”

“that one time.”

“you started it,” he leans close, lips brushing yours, “so you can’t blame me for getting hooked.” his eyes are lidded. “it’s really hard for me to break bad habits.”

this time you kiss me.

you’re so unbelievably hungry for this man’s affection, you can ignore all the blaring red light going off in your head. he’s so hot, he’s so big, and he’s so fucking sexy! your mind has been completely and utterly fried and you don’t care.

“fuck, you’re dripping,” toji husks, his finger collecting your juices from your pussy, groaning at how turned you are. “kissing me makes ya feel that good? your cunt always dripping like a fountain?”

“yeah-aah—“ your lips part as he shoves a finger inside. he groans against you, chuckling at the choked whines leaving your pretty lips, your nails dig crescents along his shoulder.

his lips trail down your neck, tongue flattening against the wet skin and licking until you squirm a cute whimper. his smirk is impossible to hold back. he sucks a dark bruise as another finger pushes in your fluttering hole.

“c-coach—“ you gasp, lips so wet from spit. you try to look down at his fingers pistoning inside you. every muscle on his body flexing, keeping you up like you weigh nothing, while fingering you against the little shower wall. “fu-fuck, I’m gonna—cu-uhm—“

it really is too much for your obsessed brain.

coach toji’s fingers are inside you. he’s kissing you like he’s hasn’t pleasured a woman in years. and his groans are going straight to your pussy—

“I wan’…coach—“ your whine drawls a little longer, thighs shaking, and arms locking around him, head falling to neck.

the older man chuckles close to your ear, voice deep and husky as you fall apart, in his arms. hugging him like he’s your savior. his fingers curl, slowly pumping you through your orgasm. “that was quick. my baby hasn’t cum in awhile?” he says as a matter of a fact, but you just hug him closer, lips pulling away to trail kisses up his neck. your fingers coarse through the back of his head, grasping them as you kiss the corner of his mouth.

“it’s b’cause of you, toji.” you kiss his scar, panting as he pulls his fingers out and lifts you up suddenly, hooking his arm under your knee.

“you want a good fucking princess?”

you nod frantically, cheeks dewy and stinging, as you glance over his face then his chest, then you feel his cock between your slick folds.

“it’s a big stretch,” he mutters against your lips. “you saw.”

you nod, nervous stirring at the way he’s preparing you. but you don’t break away. you doubt you physically can, when your mind is only screaming his name over and over.

“I can take it, coach,” you nod, determined.

“you’re so fucking cute,” he snorts, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he kisses your lips in quiet reassurance. “ever take a cock this big?”

you shake your head, water droplets falling from the tips of your hair. your pretty necklaces still wrapped around your neck, all wet and glistening between your perky breasts.

“it’ll hurt,” he strokes himself underneath you, thumb running over his tip multiple times before lining it with your pretty clit and teasing you. “then you’re gonna cry.” you gulp, nodding along. “then you’re gonna tell me to stop—“

“I won’t!”

he snorts. “it’s okay if you do.”

you shake your head, “I won’t I’ll be okay. okay coach? I can take it, I wan’ you inside me. please.”

the tug to his heart is immediate. how can it not be when this cute hot girl is begging him to fuck her? but he can’t even formulate this emotional string that’s tying him to you. the only physical response coming out is this fucking erection that feels like the most painful shit he’s experienced, twitching after he first spoke to you and then again when you kissed him. surely it’s disgusting….an older man like him getting that quickly turned on…

but maybe it was the way he’s only felt this tug in his chest one other time in his life, and even if it didn’t end the way he wanted, he never regretted pursuing his baby mama.

so he’s all in right now.

“deep breath, sweetheart.”

you inhale sharply, just as toji pushes his engorged tip past the tight rim of your pussy, and you suddenly clench—

“shit!—“

your eyes widen, “I don’t feel anything,” you mutter, glancing down to see his ears burning a deep shade of red.

“your cunt squeezed me too early and shoved me out,” he wets his lips, as he crashes his lips against you. “relax, baby,” he husks.

you whine against his dominating mouth, lower body relaxing as he lines up again and the moment you ease up, he snaps his hips in.

“angh!—“

your jaw slacks, and he continues kissing, groaning at the unbelievable tightness that’s squeezing every corner of his tip.

“Mmm so warm, took me in good,” he groans, rocking his hips and grabbing a handle of your ass. “you’re gonna make me feel good?”

you nod, lips connecting with his, it’s messy, teeth clashing, spit mixing.

toji’s guttural groan echos through the shower, bouncing off the tiles as he rocks his hips, going in inch by inch, until he’s finally shoving his entire length deep inside your cunt with one mean thrust.

“fhuck—“ he chokes, jaw slacking as you clamp around him again. “full?”

you nod, brain scrambled as you glance at your tummy, cheeks stinging at the obvious bulge. “keep going,” you pant, securing yourself better as he grunts, pulling out and snapping his hips back.

it was mind numbing, toji holding you up with his strong arms hooked under your knees, hands gripping each ass cheek as he ruts into you like a beast in heat. the squelch and clapping was deafening as it bounced off the walls, the steam enveloping you closer as your whines flow right into his ear.

“nghhh—gettin’ me worked up,” thrust. “when you squeeze me,” thrust. “with this tight.” thrust. “fucking.” thrust. “cunt!”

his massive cock is stretching you in ways you never could’ve imagined. his blunt tip slams into your cervix with every thrust. your thighs shake, eyes filling with unshed tears as your nails dig into his tough skin.

“m’ s-sorry—haah ah coa—ahh! it feels s’ fuhh—fuh’me ple-easee—ahh!” your pretty lips were so glossy, drool coming down as water droplets fall from your pretty breasts with each vicious slam of his hips.

he was unforgiving. and his laugh like groan didn’t help your pussy from fluttering and tightening around his chubby cock. you can feel every thick pulsing vein and ridge. it was numbing your brain to mush. your fingers curled into his hair, tugging as he gives your ass a mean, violent, spank!

“angh!” your eyes bulge, a wave of heat crashing into you.

toji laughs, gripping your ass as he quickens his pace. “admit it,” he husks, voice condensing, and eyes dark with lust. “this is what ya’ wanted.” you’re falling apart around his cock, and he’s not slowing down, even as the tears finally break, making you look even more irresistible. you’re gasping like you can’t breathe. “you always wanted the coach to fuck you. taking those dirty photos of my bulge—nghh!” thrust. “imagining how big my dick is.” thrust. “how big is it baby, tell me.” thrust!

you were fucked dumb.

your face is flushed, eyes glossed over, as you whine like a full blown slut. and even with your two orgasms in a matter of minutes. your mind was still screaming one thing: toji.

“c’mon baby, I know you’re still with me,” he snorts, ears red, and body flushed with sweat as he feels his climax edge closer. “tell me—fuck—how big is it?”

your stupid brain catches his words, and your fingers dig into his neck as you gasp and moan, the stimulation of his massive cock slamming into you was ruining you. mentally and physically. it was humiliating. but still…

“haah—fuh its’ it’s so big— i wan’ you to cum in me! please —wan’ your cum so bad, wanna feel your big fat cock cum inside my pussy toji—ahh!”

anothet sharp spank takes your breath away.

toji is at a loss.

his grunts grew louder and thrusts sloppier, until finally, he gave you one final thrust, and stilled. his ass tightens, body pressing you into the tiled walls, face buried in your neck, and teeth sinking into your shoulder. toji completely unravels in the shower, holding up a pretty college girl that whines so beautifully in his ear he thinks he’d never cum this hard again, but sure enough—

your adorable whine has him rutting shallow thrusts into your pussy, like a fucking dog. his cum pumping out as he continued stuffing you full, purposely milking out ever drop as his dark wet pubes rubbed against your puffy clit.

you both catch your breath. your lashes wet from tears, as the water from the shower head fills the silence. after a moment, toji pulls away from your neck, his lidded eyes, hypnotizing as he stares up at yours.

you don’t know why you suddenly feel shy. your cheeks burn as the emerald irises bore into your own. lips parting, and a gentle hand coming up to his cheek. you brush back the raven hair flattening against his features, smiling softly when his full face comes into view.

and he could’ve sworn you looked like an actual angel at this moment.

your eyes twinkled above, face illuminating in the dark shower, and body glistening like you’re an eternal being.

“toji…” the soft call has his heart doing something it hasn’t done in years. and that has his soft cock twitching inside you. “I’m,” you lean closer, arms wrapping around his shoulder, lips hovering near his, breasts smushed against his chest. your confidence comes back the moment you feel the man lean closer..but you continue. “I hope you don’t think…i wanted to have sex…just because i thought your dick was really big.”

toji blinks.

then he does the worst thing ever.

he laughs.

your cheeks sting, watching his head fall back in loud laughter. your hand flys to your face, embarrassed. “I’m being serious!” you yell.

toji laughs louder, body shaking as he lifts you up, his cock slipping out. he carefully sets your shaky feet down on the wet tile. the height difference returns, making you even more ticked off, your little attitude was oozing out, and his slick cock couldn’t help but twitch against his thigh at your pouting.

god, you’re fucking hot.

he brings your attention back to him. hands cupping your face, tilting your head to look up at him. your brows are pinched together, and lips pulled in a subtle scowl.

toji smirks. “don’t worry, I know you also took pictures of my face.”

you flush, rolling your eyes. “those were accidents.”

“so you just wanted pictures of my dick?”

your eyes widen, “no! i told you they were all accidents.”

toji clicks his tongue, leaning down to your level, making your tummy flip “you’re fucking cute, but let’s not lie to adults.”

“I’m an adult though,” you raise a brow, pushing back, and god if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever.

but still, toji’s easygoing smile remains on his playful lips, “it’s embarrassing. i understand,” he softens the blow as your face heats. it was humiliating when he found those pictures, “taking photos of the coach like that. but now’s the time to take some accountability.”

you lick your teeth, eyes boring into him, narrowing. but it’s toji. toji is asking. and you can’t hold back any longer…

you exhale, glancing away, even though he’s still cupping your face. “yeah, obviously I took those photos on purpose,” your eyes meet. “happy?”

water is still running down his shoulders as he keeps your face tucked carefully in his hands like you’re something precious despite the grin threatening to split across his face again.

but then toji smirks. “ecstatic.”

your eyes narrow immediately, “you’re so annoying.”

he huffs another laugh under his breath, quieter this time, thumbs brushing over your heated cheeks. standing this close to him is ridiculous now that the adrenaline’s settling. he’s huge. his broad chest still damp against yours, muscles flexing every time he shifts, towering over you while you stand there completely naked except for the necklaces you’re wearing. the little gold chains glisten under the shower head, delicate against flushed skin, and toji’s eyes flick down to them for a second before returning to your face.

that look in his eyes makes your stomach tighten all over again. he knows he’s not trying to be mocking, or casual like before. it’s fondness.

“those shots were real creative, sweetheart,” he says, voice rougher now. “nice and close too.”

you groan, immediately trying to shove his chest, but he barely moves. “oh my god, can you let it go already?”

“can’t,” he answers easily. “been thinkin’ about it for weeks.”

your face burns hotter. weeks?!

toji watches it happen in real time, watches the attitude crack just enough for embarrassment to slip through, again. and it does something terrible to him. you’re sharp with everyone else—cool, hard to impress. he’s seen it. seen the way you brush off gojo and geto without a second thought. but with him? you melt.

even now, glaring up at him with your brows pulled tight, lips still swollen from kissing, legs trembling from the multiple orgasms, trying so hard to stay irritated while your body keeps betraying you. it’s fucking adorable.

“don’t look at me like that,” you mutter weakly.

“like what?”

“like you know things.”

his grin widens instantly. “but i do know things now.”

what proceeded after was the thirty something year old coach, dropping to his knee and lifting your leg up, burying his face between your legs like a starving man. your lips part in shock.

but still, as toji works your pretty body to another orgasm, tongue shoved inside, cleaning this little pussy up, jaw slack as he gulps down his own cum. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging whenever he’d give your clit a mean rough suck, cheeks hollowing. his hand, grips your ass from behind, squeezing and slapping as he pleased, until you were falling apart.

afterwards, he cleaned you up. this time with some soap. his big hands roamed your body, every crevice and curve, hands massaging your breasts as he had your back pressed to his chest, chuckling when you’d whine. thumbs tugging playfully. hand rubbing between your legs, head tucked in your shoulder as he watches your smaller hands hold his forehead, face hot.

“toji,” you whine, embarrassed, as he teasing a finger against your hole again.

“what,” he smirks, watching your reactions, “I’m jus’ cleaning you up.”

he’s a fucking perv. but still, he teases you through the whole shower, keeping you close to his body and even letting you wash his back, admiring the muscles and ink that decorate his skin.

eventually, he steps out first, keeping you inside so he can grab an extra towel. his own wrapped around his waist.

that was the start of all of it.

three months later….

you and shoko are sitting out in the quad. table covered in assignments and forgotten laptops. all while you explained to shoko how your weekend went.

“no, we definitely got along. megumi is so cute!” you gush about the ten year old, describing how your first meeting went. toji had spoken about you enough to prepare megumi, waiting until the right time to introduce you both.

and now, you’re going to every single one of their soccer games, toji and megumi’s.

and eventually, after another hour passes by. a group of athletes comes walking down the path. covered in sweat, holding their duffles, and behind them is a very hot coach, already breaking into a smile when you jump up.

“toji!”

it was a routine. your arms thrown around his shoulders, as he lifts you up with one hand. zero regard for any pda, as he kisses you deeply. smiling as you hum, pecking him over and over.

“why do you guys look like that?” shoko grimaces, looking at gojo and geto who look far worse than the rest of the team that leave.

geto scowls, glaring at his best friend, “fucking coach overhead him again.”

shoko shakes her head, rolling her eyes, at the white haired idiot. “you need to stop—“

“it’s been three months and she’s not over that old man?!”

“he’s not even that old!” shoko defends.

but gojo scowls harder, glancing over his shoulder at you laughing and talking, hands animated, like the man in front of you was holding the world. “it’s always the mean girls.”

shoko frowns, “you’re messed up in the head.”

but even geto narrows his eyes when toji wraps a possessive arm around you, glaring up at the two players.

it was clear as day.

you’re his.

a/n: this was LOONG overdue, mb guys!!! but i hope you all enjoyed it!!! ahhhh i love coach toji sososososo much—like its a serious problem, i cant make reader behave normally when its toji, like she has to be obsessed with himmm

————

It was late in the afternoon when Nanami found you. 

At first glance, he immediately knew you were a bit of a ditz. No woman with good sense had any business bending over into the hood of her vehicle—trying to figure out what was wrong with it—in the middle of the goddamn forest like that.

The road he spotted you on was one of those back roads that was tucked deep off into the forest. People typically only came out here for one of three things.

One—the most common—to avoid traffic. Two, to get to the woodland resort that was just a few miles out from there. And three, they happened to be locals with cabins tucked off in all different corners of the surrounding forest.

You did not appear to be any of the three.

You were scouring around the open hood of your car and Nanami's first sight of you consisted of the loveliest view of your ass. Bent over all oblivious to his greedy eyes, his first honest impression of you is that you didn't exactly have the best spatial awareness… if any at all.

Leaves crunched between the heavy soles of his boots as he approached you and your car, and it almost worried him how painfully unaware you were. "Miss?" Nanami called out to you, amused by the way you yelped in surprise and nearly hit your head trying to pull yourself away from the open hood.

Your head angles back and as soon as the two of you made eye contact, he should’ve put you on his kill list.

Why? Because he’s so ridiculously bound to be a gentleman the moment he meets those pretty eyes of yours and he knows it. You looked all startled by him, yet still had the nerve to size him up and down completely unashamed.

Nanami was a tall, brawny man whose body was just begging to be freed from the fabric of all his too-tight clothing. 

He had on one of those signature red and black flannels, but its cloth did little to conceal the muscles that bulged beneath. The center of his shirt was unbuttoned just enough for you to get a peek of his toned chest, all beefy and just… broad with light tuffs of blond hair decorating the exposed skin. His sleeves were bundled up at his forearms, and adorning his hips were a pair of tanned slacks and a thick brown belt.

Phew, you couldn’t stop ogling him at first and nearly forgot to warrant him with a response. Forcing your eyes back up to his stoic, yet kind expression, you flash a sweet smile, “Sir?”

His voice leaves him all honeyed and husky in a way that has you stepping away from your car and your spine stiffening a little. “You look like you could use some help there,” He points out obviously with a slight tip of his head toward your currently dysfunctional vehicle.

The sun was rapidly making its descent and this really wasn’t the place for you to be having car trouble. Nanami considers you rather lucky he ran into you and not anyone else—this area was anything but safe for a woman such as yourself.

“I could actually!” You chime with this bubbliness that makes him thankful that he’s the one to have found you again. “My car just gave out on me all of a sudden and I’m really not sure why,” You go on to explain but, he’s hardly focused on what’s coming out of your mouth.

He’s much too busy staring at the way words leave your lips and that glistening gloss you’ve got coating them right now. Nanami swears to himself he’s usually not this easily distracted but something about you was making his brain wire itself a little differently.

Eventually, while you’re still rambling about how you were trying to make your way back to the highway and seemed to take a wrong turn onto this creepy back road, Nanami merely cocks his head to the side and looks down to spot what’s causing you all this trouble.

Yapping his ear off with not a clue in the world, “...And then I almost hit a deer a few miles back, which scared the shit out of–”

“Sweetheart,” He cuts off gently with a small grin on his face, fawn brown eyes flocking up to your expression slowly, “You’ve got a flat tire.” He tells you as he lazily lifts a hand to point at your front left tire that, surely enough, is flattened beyond belief.

“Ohhhh,” You chime with a roll of your eyes, “Y’know, that makes a lot more sense. I didn’t even look down there.” You’re turning around to inspect the tire now, noticing that it seems as though you’d run over something sharp, “Huh. There’s a big hole in it and everything…”

Nanami fights the urge to chuckle as he makes his way over to you and leans down to inspect the flattened tire alongside you. “...You didn’t hear or feel anything when your car ‘gave out’ on you?” He asks carefully, raising a brow your way.

You go to shaking your head, “No, not at all! Whatever it is I ran over, I must’ve done so a while ago because I’d been driving just fine for quite some time prior to me pulling over here..”

He waves off your words and then leans back up with a smooth click of his tongue, “Ah, I see. You have a spare, right?”

“A spare tire?” You repeat thoughtlessly before looking off in embarrassment as he nods. “About that…”

And while you start giving him a million and one reasons as to why you’re traveling alone in the woods with no emergency spare tire or any means of protection, Nanami finds himself all the more concerned for your safety. The conversation mostly consists of him trying not to give you judgy eyes, but it’s a bit difficult when you were by far the most carefree person he’d ever met.

Thus leading him to glance off and notice how dark it’s getting, “Listen, as much as I would love to sit here and listen to your uh… adventures, the sun is setting and I don’t feel too comfortable leaving you all alone here like this.”

You blink once-, twice as you quickly realize he has a point. Your gaze travels to the area surrounding the two of you, and it only then dawns on you that this man kinda just appeared out of nowhere, since he didn’t seem to have a car of his own anywhere nearby. There’s nothing but tall, leafless trees and a steadily darkening forest around the two of you.

Hell, even you weren’t going to be too comfortable sitting in your car until sunrise…

“I have a spare tire you could borrow back at my cabin,” Nanami offers all of a sudden, gesturing back into the presumed direction of his place. “Though, I can’t help you while it’s dark out and uh,” He pauses to look at you up and down, fighting his smile once again. “I doubt you’d want to follow a stranger like me off into the–”

“Okay,” You cut off suddenly enough to leave him surprised. You didn’t care too much that he was a stranger, and although you definitely showed signs of not being able to defend yourself whatsoever, you had the means to do so if it really came down to that—especially now that he’d shown he’s fallen for that rather misleading ditzy persona of yours.

Truth be told, you did have a spare tire in your trunk. You weren’t that careless.

But you also didn’t want to sleep in your car tonight, especially not alone in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. Nanami seemed kind enough, despite emerging from the woods just to offer you some help and being a complete stranger to you… 

But hey, at least he was a hot stranger, right?

————

And that’s exactly how you end up following him into the woods toward that ‘cabin’ of his. He’d given you his name—first and last—but you were rather insistent on being polite and calling him by the last. The walk to his place took about fifteen minutes, which left you relieved because that meant your car wasn’t too far away.

It also explained how he found you, considering he’s not too distant. Nanami was also very open and talkative during that walk of yours and explained that he used to be a businessman but decided he needed a slice of quiet and tucked off into the forest a few years ago to be a lumberjack. Which explained that physique of his.

Fallen leaves crumpled and crunched beneath both of your feet as you two walked the dirt path toward his place and upon arrival, the very first thing you noticed was an old red axe lodged neatly into a piece of wood on his front porch as he guided you up. 

Nanami was in the midst of telling you some of his woodland adventures—as if to reciprocate what you’d told him about your road trip so far—before you stopped and stared rather openly at the tool.

He was opening his front door for you before he noticed where your eyes had landed, and he offered you a gentlemanly smile, “That’s my little money maker right there.” He says to hopefully make up for any awkwardness.

You nod, “Yeah?” and he starts telling you about his axe and how he’s had it for years and years, yet all you could focus on was the dried red sitting at the blade’s edges—a shade of which did not match the red paint of the tool and was also located where a silver color sat beneath. Huh, interesting, you’d thought.

And when Nanami made an effort to explain how some bears and other wild animals frequent this forest quite often, you figure that’s where the blood came from.

Not that he ever explicitly confirms that, though.

As he resumes his talk of what it’s like to be a lumberjack, he kindly walks you into his home—holding the door open and letting you enter first—before offering you a short tour. It was clear he wanted to make you nice and comfortable, considering he was still a stranger to you.

You agreed to the tour and made sure to take in every detail of his home just in case anything were to happen. You’d check your phone every time his eyes left you, making sure it was nicely charged and that you had some sort of service.

Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those horror-type plots, so you were actually perfect in terms of service. Y’know, after he offered and then gave you his cabin’s wifi…

He then showed you around that spotless kitchen and living room of his, in which you just so happened to notice a news article sitting on the coffee table while he told you the nearest town was at least a mile away and filled with unfriendly locals.

You ended up plucking the article from its spot to skim over it curiously as he spoke and told you stories of his bad experience with the people of the town.

Lots of missing person reports were in that article, along with a story about an axe-wielding maniac who was suspected to be the cause of said missing people. Nanami watched you read and send him a few skeptical glances, but considering how you didn’t say anything, he figured you didn’t suspect him.

He’s not the only lumberjack around, after all. That maniac could’ve been anyone.

As the tour soon concluded, Nanami showed you to a guest bedroom to sleep in for the night. The bathroom—along with his bedroom—was just down the hall and he told you not to be too shy to ask him for anything.

See? Simple.

Surely if he were crazy and wanted to kill you, he would’ve shown signs by now or made some attempt at doing so. Instead, Nanami did nothing but be a handsome host for you and even invited you into his living room to sit down and eat dinner with him.

Outside of being a sexy lumberjack, Nanami was also a fine cook.

You’re now sitting on the comforting stretch of his leather couch, a half-eaten warm plate of food in hand, and a steady draft of warmth that stems from the fireplace he’s so kindly lit for you. The cabin’s air was coated in thick scents of cedar and that homey-smoke, everything around you oh-so-meticulously placed. You distantly considered in your mind how everything was a bit too clean for a man who lived so far from town.

Shrugging it off, you were quick to remind yourself that this was okay. He was okay, despite that little article you kept taking a peek at…

There's a subtle, quiet movement somewhere behind you before Nanami comes into view and sets a softly steaming mug on the coffee table in front of you, “This isn’t too much for you, is it?” He asks, voice smooth, velvety even.

You glance up at him and find yourself admiring the way the warm light from the nearby flames catches against his chiseled face. A man like this really had no business being single and alone like this, he was visibly perfect. “This is just fine, thank you.” You manage as you set your plate down and then bring the warm mug into your cooler palms.

Nanami breaks out a smile, that gentle and polite one he’s sent your way one too many times since he’d run into you. It was the kind of expression that made your heart feel warm and safe. Catching something in your gaze, he lets off a slight sigh as he sits himself down in the nearby armchair, “You’re lucky, y’know.” He hums, large frame easing into his seat as he speaks. “This area isn’t exactly the safest for ‘outsiders’.”

Between your careful sips on the warm cocoa he’d made you—that’s oddly crafted to utter flawlessness—you look off in thought before chiming, “Outsiders? Is that what those locals that don’t like you call people like me?”

He never seems to let his gaze stray away from you, “Oh, they call me that too. That’s how I know it’s not too safe out here. I can only imagine what would’ve happened if one of them found you and not me.”

You chuckle, “So, those missing person reports…” You begin, gesturing toward the stack of articles, “You think the townsfolk made those stories up and pinned them on…” The word ‘you’ rested on the tip of your tongue but, you quickly swallowed it down. “One of the lumberjacks out here to mislead people?”

“And keep people scared, yes,” Nanami answers promptly. “It is October after all. If you look at the dates on all those reports, they’re rather recent. I feel as though it’s a seasonal thing they do for the spirit of this spooky month.”

A town of people who make up missing person reports for the month of Halloween? How peculiar. You’d never heard anything quite like that. You shrug it off, though. There’s a town of oddities everywhere, right? This was no different.

As the small talk dissipates, the fire’s low crackles swallow up the atmosphere and it felt as though time were slowing down. You’d never felt so… at ease around a complete stranger like this before. Nanami’s just as quiet as you are now, as if to let both of your thoughts mingle about and carry through the silence.

The wind outside seems to be picking up a bit, lightly clashing against the large cabin windows as you two sit and enjoy one another’s presence. You sip on your seasonal beverage until the mug is light in your hand, your taste buds satisfied, and your stomach full—two things that completely contrast how you thought you’d end up spending your night just a few hours ago.

Before you bid Nanami goodnight and head off to the guest bedroom, you sit there and start taking in the details of his home again. You were growing increasingly aware of how unnervingly faultless everything was. Tucked into a corner was a tall bookshelf lined with literature of all sorts, the spines aligned and rather dustless. 

Even the fireplace a few feet in front of you was gorgeously untouched and yet polished. The neatness of Nanami’s cabin was feeling less and less like mere tidiness and more like some sort of strange control.

But hey, perhaps you were looking too deeply into everything. He’s just a very particular man. Nothing weird about that, right?

When the two of you finally parted ways for the night, Nanami took your dishes off into his kitchen and wished you a good night. Aside from the easing running of water as he washed your plate and mug, the only sounds to travel throughout his cabin now were your footsteps toward your room for the night.

By the time you entered said room, you’d come to the same reasoning that—just because the description in the article you read, and even talked about, earlier said the suspect was a six-foot-tall blond man with brown eyes—Nanami was in no way the killer.

————

With the night carrying on ever-so-smoothly without a hitch, you actually end up finding yourself unable to sleep.

The moonlight acts as the only sort of illumination all throughout the man’s house, and you quickly realize that once you slip out of the guest bedroom and tiptoe down the hall towards the bathroom. You weren’t quite sure what was keeping you up, but you hoped using the bathroom would help you figure it out.

That, and you used your trip to the bathroom as an excuse to explore the cabin a little more on your own. It was quite cozy all around and the wood hardly creaked beneath your light steps whilst you paced about. Considering only one, unmarried man lives out here alone… you really couldn’t help the impending suspicion that continued to rise within you as you explored his house.

Nothing was out of place and half of the furniture seemed as though it was rarely touched, if even at all.

As you stop by the kitchen for a glass of water, the cleanliness of Nanami’s cabin seems to stand out even more. Every glass within the cabinets was so perfectly placed that it was nearly uncanny. No dust sat on anything, not even the glasses in the very back.

You shrug it off. Maybe you were being too anal about things again. 

Or at least, that’s what you thought before you began to notice other peculiarities as you sipped your fresh glass of water. Everything was painfully squeaky clean.

The large windows that decorated the majority of the cabin’s walls? So spotless the moonlight was elegantly pouring in onto the almost reflective wooden floors. The counters? Also spotless. Every cabin and handle? Guess what? Spotless.

There was a very faint scent of recently used cleaning products so, in your head, you deduced that Nanami was some sort of clean freak.

Once you finish up with your water and finally make that trip to the bathroom, you’ve still got all these questions raging war in your mind. 

Say he was that axe-wielding maniac from the article… Did he really kidnap and murder all those people? Did he have a reason for it? Was it because of the town’s unfriendliness? Were you his next victim..?

No, no, Nanami had been way too nice and open with you for any of those things to be true. Plus, he told you the townsfolk probably made those articles up for the Halloween spirit. 

Yeah, that reality’s a lot easier for you to digest.

But if you’re being fully honest with yourself… as long as he doesn’t plan to kill you, you don’t think you mind the alternative and more likely reality of him being the killer. At least he was hot, right?

And he was nice to you.

That’s a lot better than you could say about the guys you’ve dealt with back home.

You’re washing and drying your hands now, hoping to return to bed and make a second attempt at sleep. The man was kind enough to let you stay the night, and here you were mentally accusing him of being a murderer when he hadn’t even done anything–

As soon as you walk out of the bathroom, you walk face-first into something that feels like a brick wall, hands shooting up to brace yourself, and a soft huff exiting your throat. When you look up, you’re met with your host’s slightly surprised expression.

His sturdy hands are on your arms, holding you after you’d so carelessly walked into him—even though he was standing right in front of the bathroom door and didn’t really give you room to do anything else…

“Ah, sorry, Nanami,” You chime softly, voice filling the quiet of the stiff hallway surrounding the two of you, “Wasn’t expecting to run into you like this.”

His gaze is delicate as it sets down on you, “You’re quite alright, darling.” Nanami voices attentively before his head weighs to the side, “Was this just a trip to the bathroom, or could you not sleep as well?”

You grin, “I’d say a bit of both, but mainly the first thing. I’m gonna try to get some rest now, though.” Your explanation comes out rather quickly, and you’re unintentionally awkward as you break yourself away from his light grasp, turning elsewhere. “Night, Nanami.”

“Goodnight,” He replies with a slight smile on his face. 

He turns to the bathroom ahead but finds himself pausing to watch you walk down the hall. Your footsteps are careful, he notices. Though he’s not sure why that sticks out to him. He had no intentions of… 

Shaking the unfinished thought away, the blond clears his throat, “Actually, wait. Before you go,” You stop promptly—almost as if hoping for him to say something—and then swivel around at the sound of his voice, catching his eyes under the dim lighting from the rather full moon outside. “I’m curious.”

A brow of yours shoots up, “About?”

Nanami’s eyes are calculated on your slightly distanced frame, wonder swirling within his pupils. You were just as much a stranger to him as he was to you and yet, here you stood in his home hours past midnight… wearing a shirt he lent you to sleep in, no less.

You had to lack shame. There was no other explanation for it. Why else would a woman do the things you were doing like this? It’s like you wanted to make his hobby easy for him…

With the left corner of his lips twitching as he fights off a knowing smirk, Nanami’s voice smoothes into the air all honeyed and low, “Do you follow strange men into their homes like this often?” He asks.

You merely snort, “You’re not strange.”

As if that answered his question…

“You don’t know that,” He warns carefully, foot shifting on the floor to angle his body so that he’s facing you. You still stood a few feet away from him, a distance in which he was fine with.

…For now.

“You’re right, I don’t,” You soon agree, to which his brows shoot up in surprise. “But, no, I don’t do this often.” Your answer makes him sigh in relief. It was good to hear that you weren’t always this careless.

Nanami’s hands slip into the pockets of his sweatpants. He wasn’t wearing much more than you—a simple white tee and some grey sweats, his usual nightwear—and yet he still caught the way you were drinking him up, as if the lack of bright lighting was supposed to conceal the way your eyes roamed and then lingered in all the right places and more.

His reading glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose and you two make direct visual contact as his chin dips down a bit and the frames slip just enough to reveal those chestnut-shaded eyes of his. “May I ask what made me so different then?” His voice was rich and sweet enough to make you dizzy if you listened to it long enough.

“Hmm..” You hum in faux thought, despite having the answer clear in your head. “I dunno, maybe because you’re hot.” You explain honestly.

Nanami smiles to himself at the sound of that. He truly did admire your lack of shame as time went on, “You willingly allowed yourself to stay the night at a stranger’s just because you find them attractive?”

You’re chuckling and he’s taking the slightest step closer. “Well, yes.” You reply.

To which the man lets out a scolding little scoff, “That’s quite careless, y’know.” He warns once more, growing nearer.

You don’t fight the distance. If anything, you quite welcome it. Especially with the way you gradually shift closer. It was as though both of you had some sort of silent understanding that there was way too much space between you for all the tension that was building.

Even though the tension in question was building toward two different things.

You wanted to get a piece of the man and he… well, he wanted the same thing but in a different way.

“Nanami,” You purr, hearing the wood faintly creak beneath his slow steps. 

His smile has yet to fade and his energy is just so enticing at the moment that you feel lulled into him. It was like he’d put you under a vocal spell with that soothing tone of his, “I’ve told you, you can call me Kento.”

You release a sigh, “Listen, I’d rather be in here with a ‘stranger’—who I’ve gotten to know fairly well thus far—than out there sleeping in my car alone.”

Nanami’s walking comes to a stop once you’re in arm's reach and his voice is a little scary as he whispers, “You’re alone with a stranger though.”

Feigning not to see the danger you may now be in, “What’s your point?” You ask softly.

His gaze drags across your face and he fully intends to coax more of that frightened expression out of you as he murmurs, “We’re far enough away from town where no one could hear you scream, does that not concern you?”

You merely bat your lashes all innocently up at the man and the gesture is making his heart clench within his chest tightly. Then, you have the audacity to lean forward and lift a single finger up to his chest to poke him. Smiling, “No one could hear me scream out here?” You repeat.

Just to confirm, of course.

Nanami fights the furrow in his brows and instead looks down at the finger you hand pressing into his chest before breathing out a heavy, “No.”

A beat or two pass between you both and he hardly gets the chance to blink before you’re slithering yourself up close—too close—and looking directly at his expression to watch for his reaction as you ask, “Doesn’t that mean if we were to fuck, I could be as loud as I want?”

You practically watch his breath get tangled in the center of his throat and get a lucky feel of his heart skipping a beat beneath your finger. Of all things you could have said to him, of all ways you would have interpreted his truly harmless threats, that was nowhere near what he expected you to say.

Hence why his voice wavers a little as he chokes, “Pardon?”

Nanami’s eyes flick up to yours and he gulps thickly at the way you’re peering at him now.

“I said, if we fucked—like in here or even outside—I could be as loud as I want,” You repeat shamelessly with a few purposefully innocent bats of your lashes. “Right?”

The next delicious little thing you earn from him is a short scoff, as if he’s not just surprised but utterly bewildered by you. Here he was considering making you his next victim to chop up and the whole time you wanted to… get into his pants??

A sudden smirk dawns across his sharp features and he leans down to your ear, “Is that what you followed me out here for?” He questions low enough to have your body hot with anticipation. Then, before you could quite answer and as if you needed the clarification, his lips brush against your skin, “My cock?”

And there it was, that dizzying feeling again. It was one thing to hear his baritone travel across the hallway and caress your ears but to have his breath and thickly aroused voice against the crown of your ear was something else entirely.

Your lashes are fluttering for real now and you’re finally pulling away to create a little bit of distance, bashfully looking down to the ground, “Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like some kinda pervert.”

Nanami watches how shy you become and he feels as though he’s hardly holding back now, “I have reason to believe you are.” Lord knows killing you was now the last thing on his mind.

You’d just saved yourself by turning him on and you hadn’t the slightest clue. Hell, if anything, you had the nerve to grow shy about it.

Cute.

It takes you a moment to collect yourself and the moment your eyes meet his again, you can feel the lust hanging between the two of you. “Is that a bad thing?” You murmur.

“No…” Nanami replies rather quickly, contrasting the firmness of his tone. Then he cocks his head to the side and finally allows his brows to meet slightly, “But, what am I meant to do with you now? Hm?”

“Whatever you want,” Comes spilling past your lips almost too eagerly, even for yourself.

He feels the painfully prominent twitch of his cock as your words ring out into the air and his mind was straying further and further from that gentlemanly approach he was so desperately trying to keep with you. “Careful, sweetheart.” Nanami advises, “You still don’t really know me.”

You appear to be amused by that, given the way you smile, “We can get to know each other in a few different ways.”

His voice is hardly restrained at this point, etching deeper into something husky, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” You hum ever so innocently.

His eyes narrow down on you, “And how do you suggest we do that this late into the night?”

……

You had one suggestion.

But, it was less of a suggestion and more of a request.

Chase me through the woods, you’d said. Now your feet were burning against the uneven dirt below your rushed footsteps.

Sure, he agreed. And now you felt as though you’d run into him at any given moment now. 

Before you even exited the house, Nanami mentioned that if you make it to your car before he finds you, it’d be best that you went ahead and left. When you asked him why, he told you, “You won’t be able to handle what finds you.”

Does that later turn out to be true? Maybe. But did you care in the moment? Of course not, you just got a hot stranger to agree to chase you through the woods! One of your darkest fantasies was coming to life and you couldn’t be happier.

But, you had to pretend like it wasn’t exactly what you’d been wanting since the moment he saw you bent into the hood of your car. This totally wasn’t the reason you’d been so bold with him and you definitely don’t want him to find you now.

A few more pieces of information had been shared between the two of you before you went running. Apparently, Nanami went out and fixed your car while you were holed up in the guest bedroom—even though he told you earlier that he couldn’t work in the dark. 

The two of you also agreed that if he finds you before you find your car, he’s going to fuck you. The last thing he wanted to do was anything without your consent.

Even a murderer like him had morals! For you, at least.

The only thing Nanami didn’t tell you was that the car he fixed? Yeah, it’s actually not in the spot you left it in.

You don’t realize that until you get there.

————

You’re a bit out of breath after running for the past few minutes or so but, you’re actually glad to see that your car is nowhere to be found.

Concerned? Sure. But at least this meant you didn’t have to leave just yet.

The only thing about this little arrangement that brought you true concern was how you knew he was somewhere in the woods hunting for you right now. The thought alone sends a chill down your spine, especially as you glance back in the direction you came and notice just how dark the forest is where the moon can’t quite reach.

You swallow thickly and turn away to think. You didn’t really need to hide if you wanted him to fuck you, right?

Nah, if you don’t hide, that’d take away all the fun!

Y’know, the same “fun” that quickly dies when you hear a twig snapping in the distance. Your heart decides to sink straight down into your ass and you nearly let out a sound of surprise. Luckily enough for you, your hand was over your mouth almost instinctively. Then your feet were moving on their own to try and duck behind the nearest and biggest tree you could find.

There’s no way he caught up to you that fast, right?

The surrounding forest is eerily quiet and you feel as though you should be able to hear him coming if that snapping branch was really him…

If anything, if it wasn’t him you think that’d scare you a whole lot more. After all, there is a murderer on the loose.

You didn’t quite consider that before now. What if the killer finds you before Nanami does? What if you died out here because you were too busy trying to get screwed against some tree by a complete stranger? 

Imagine that on your headstone: stupid girl gets brutally dismembered in woods after being found by the known axe-maniac while waiting for some stranger to come fuck her.

Now your eyes were squeezing shut and your back was hugging the stiff tree behind you.

All your senses were quickly growing more alert as the seconds chipped away and suddenly, this wasn’t just a cute lil’ thing you decided to do anymore. You were surrounded by the unknown, covered in the darkness of shadows that cast over you where the moonlight couldn’t lay its delicate glow upon, and slowly growing more and more scared.

Anyone or anything could find you out here before Nanami did. The slightest shift of leaves on the ground just a few inches away from you, where wind gusts over, made your skin jump and you found yourself flinching at every little thing.

The gulp you take is thick with nerves, eyes flashing from one place to another as you try to catch the every adjustment of any and all nearby shades of night. The wood behind you pricks at your skin through the fabric of Nanami’s shirt that you’re still clad in, your back only pressing up against it more as if to merge into the tree itself, and the cool night air caresses the exposed skin of your legs below your shorts.

There was a knot in your stomach now and you were getting antsy for Nanami to hurry up and find you. At least in his arms you’d feel a lot safer than you do right now, all alone in the forest like an idiot. The minutes stretched on and it’s not long before you start debating resuming the search for your vehicle.

Perhaps getting into it and driving away wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

Especially considering the way Nanami sucks at locating you. You left his cabin over twenty minutes ago and have been hiding behind the same tree for the past six or seven, surely he should have found you by now, since he knows these woods so well.

Yet there you stood, growing colder under the night’s chilled air and worrying for your safety for the first time since you’d been stranded. Hell, you almost started to regret this whole—

The sound of a sharp thwack into the very thick wood you were hiding behind captures your attention. Followed by the words, “Found you,” being heaved out into the quiet air, warm breath smacking against your ear and making you flinch so hard it was like you left your own flesh for a moment. 

If you weren’t scared shitless before, you damn sure were now.

You instinctively lurch your body forward in a pathetic attempt to escape, but then there’s a grasp on your hair and your whole frame is jerked back. “Don’t fucking run from me, we have a deal, remember?”

You stumble back against Nanami’s beefy chest as he snatches you back toward him and your breath catches in your throat, cunt throbbing already in… fear? arousal? Something in between—like scarousal—perhaps. Gasping, “Nanami I-“

He’s cutting you off by moving a hand to your jaw and forcing you to angle it back so you can meet his now brooding brown eyes. The gentleman you swore you once knew seems to be gone with the way he was looking at you now as if he wanted to eat you alive.

One of his fingers slips up against your expression just to push past your pretty, slightly drooling lips and spread them against the pad of his thumb. “If you don’t want this anymore, say that, and I’ll stop,” He utters hotly.

Your lashes flutter and you let him press that thumb of his all the way into your mouth, sucking on it like some slut before you actually fix your lips to answer him, “I still want it.”

The fear you had previously has been completely replaced by your own whorish arousal and you reveled in the way he treats you. Nanami grunts, “Then don’t run from it.”

“I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“Shut up,” The man all but groans before tipping your head all the way back so he can press his lips down into yours.

He kisses you hungrily as if he’d been waiting to do so from the moment he’d set eyes on you. Fuck, this was bad. He’s supposed to have gotten rid of you by now and yet here he is, tugging at your clothes to get a feel of you, tonguing your down, and swallowing up your every whine.

The fact that you asked him to do this whole thing was what really drove him insane. He can’t help but be rough with the way he handles you, shoving you forward a bit so that he could be the one between your body and the tree you so poorly hid behind.

His hand had left your face and your head angled a bit more so the kiss could continue while his grip greedily cupped your tits into his big hands. You were melting against his every touch, moaning into his mouth, and then bucking your ass back against his crotch.

The moment his cock is felt through the thick fabric of his jeans, you gasp, “Nanami-“

“Kento,” He corrects swiftly, two fingers shifting against your breasts just to give your nipples a mean pinch. “Say my name while I fuck you, got it?” He commands heavily.

Then his hands were leaving your tits, just for a moment, so that he could bring them up to the collar of your shirt and begin to tug. Your lips slip off of his with a wet pop! followed by a cute gasp from your throat as you turn to watch the way he riiips that shirt of his straight down the middle.

The torn fabric shreds to the floor and then you feel Nanami’s gaping mouth at the side of your neck, palms desperate as they fly to your breasts again to fondle the gorgeous mounds in his hands. He’s squeezing and then gliding the fat of his thumbs over your perky nipples again, giving them a playful little twist, and then smiling into your skin at the way you whine.

“Sensitive, huh?” Nanami sears against you, letting the hungry drool from his lips slick up the area where his mouth had just been. 

He takes the following pathetic sound from your lips as a reply and then moves his fingers to flick at your delicate buds as a finality before letting one hand fall down in between the two of you.

If he didn’t get some sort of relief right now, he was going to lose his mind.

Nanami is rather skillful with the one hand he leaves at your tits, switching between each to give them the same amount of attention and carefully pulling strings of wonton moans past your drunkenly parted lips. He had hardly done anything yet and he already knew you’d been waiting on this.

The sound of his belt buckle clacking against itself as he messily unbuckles the hindering item and then flings it off to the side seems to echo throughout the not-so-scary forestry. You hear but a few more shuffles and feel his hand brushing over the curve of your ass just a couple more times before something viscous and sweltering is thumping against your ass with a faint curve upwards.

You’re feeling overly dizzy now. Particularly as he moves his hands to your hips and swirls the two of you around so he can press your face against the three you two have been standing behind. You wanted to hate that harsh scratch of wood against your cheek, but you couldn’t even think with Nanami’s weeping cock busy pouring out drooly strings of precum against the bare skin of your lower back.

If anything, your lashes were too busy fluttering as you let your head tilt and your eyes tried to catch a subtle glance at the weight resting below your slowly arching spine.

If there wasn’t a wet mess pooling in between your thighs before then there damn sure was now, almost uncontrollably so. 

Nanami goes along to tug away the sorry fabric of your shorts, watching the way they slip down your legs and pool oh-so-gracefully at your ankles. His cock lay needily against your panties now as he leaned forward for your ear, whispering, “Can you feel that?”

Your cunt flutters ridiculously around nothing and your voice has been reduced to a pitiable mumble, “Yes, Kento..”

A pretty response like that earns you the grazing of his teeth against the crown of your ear as his voice drops impossibly lower, “How’s it feel, huh? Tell me.” Nanami directs, leaving you no room to argue.

And as if to coax your answer out of your suddenly moan-clogged throat, his hips real back and he angles his cock down before thrusting the thick of it in between your sweat-slicked thighs, allowing you to feel the heaty veins decorating his shaft.

You moan as if he’d just pushed into you, “Big, Ken’.. so fuckin’ big..” To which he groans right into your ear so that you would really digest what it is your aroused tone did to him.

Those hands he had at your hips are now keeping your body steady so he can properly pry his hips back and let his cock schliiick up against the wet soiling of your panties, stuffing between your thighs perfectly and rubbing along your slobbering folds deliciously.

Then—ever the talker—as if to earn a lovely throb of your pussy against him, he’s heaving all over again. “Do you like it?” Nanami taunts, biting back a smile, “Having a big cock rubbing in between your thighs like this? Hm?”

Your cunt is wetly begging for more at this point; body thrumming, sleek with sweat mixed through an overwhelming heat, and desperate need to fuck. Any longer with him rutting in between your thighs like this and you felt as though you’d pass out from lack of dick being inside you.

Eventually grumbling an answer out to him, “Y-Yes but-, ah..!” You’re cut off by the obviously purposeful way his glazed mushroom tip pokes up against the pad of your panties, doubly smearing pre into the already soaked material and simultaneously teasing your folds to part.

“But what?” Namai questions far too innocently for the way he’s torturing your poor, needy pussy right now.

Huffing from kiss-bitten lips, “I want you inside me, Kento,” You plead too prettily for him to deny.

“Mmh,” A hand of his comes up to force your head back again, letting your eyes meet his shaded brown ones, “Where’s those manners, huh?”

“P-Please,” You whisper, “I just want-“

“Louder,” Nanami cuts off crisply enough for you to release a bashless whine.

“Kento, please fuck me,” You breathed out finally, “I need it, need you inside me. Pleeease.”

Considering that perfect enough for both his ego and the aching inches of his cock, a commanding, “Spread your legs,” plummets past his lips.

Your feet have never parted faster, thighs parting and removing the warm pressure that’d been hugging his dick all too addictively. Then you bend over further, if possible, and rest a little more comfortably against the tree ahead.

“Mhm, exactly like that. Now arch,” He directs, hand pressing into your spine whilst your face smushes into the rough bark of the tree. 

You were too horny to mind the pain, though. Nanami’s hand suddenly comes down on your ass as he slaps it, the impact ringing out into the surrounding quiet. 

Finally, you begin to feel his fingers hook around the only material hanging in between you and him before he stretches it out a bit and then lets go, letting your panties smack! against your puffy pussy lips and ripping a whimper out of your throat.

At the sound, Nanami swears he almost cums.

Which is exactly why he knew he couldn’t tease you much longer. So he hooks his fingers again and then lazily tears the fabric apart so that it could flutter off your throbbing body and leave you bare to his craving gaze.

“Fuck, look at you,” Nanami gasps as he takes his heavy length into his hand and angles the plump, welled tip in between your slick dribbling folds, “Such a mess for it already…”

You clasp your bottom lip in between your teeth and hate how he lets himself glide up instead of in, slipping past your cunt, catching against your clit for a second too fast for your cockdrunken brain to process, and then further up as if to… measure something?

Nanami tugs you back by your hips a little and once your ass is nice and flush with his sharp pelvis, he hooks his arm around you and then begins to feel around for where the length of his cock comes to a stop against you.

Chuckling, “Am I even going to fit in here?” He asks tauntingly. Following that rhetorical question up with an annoying groan of, “Ah, shit. That’s gonna be really deep, sweetheart. Can you take that?”

“I can,” You blurt out ever so sweetly.

Nanami scoffs, “You’re just greedy for some cock to fill you up, aren’t you?” He asks as if he didn’t already know the answer.

Which is why he’s anything but surprised at the way you murmur a delightful, “Y-Yes,” as if you weren’t too sure of your own words.

“And she agrees,” He mocks tenderly and then lets his dick travel back down to slap against your folds with one wet plap echoing into the forest air. “I bet you didn’t even try to hide properly, did you?”

“I did-,” You tried to answer him properly, you really did. But as that swollen cockhead of his begins to protrude past your syrupy entrance, your breath is tangled up in your throat. “Ohmygod…” You’re heaving into the tree.

“So wet-,” Nanami hisses in tandem with you, “Fuck, you wrap around me so gorgeously,” He whispers whilst leaning back a bit and letting his palms paw at your ass cheeks just to spread them apart and get a better look.

Your eyes quickly begin to kiss the back of your skull, nails clawing at the bark of the tree ahead of you because of how thick Nanami’s cock is. You think your legs are shaking a bit, but you can’t tell if that’s because of how indigent you were for this or because of how wide he’s stretching you.

It takes you a loong group of seconds to adjust to the sheer girth of his cock, in which Nanami attempts to go slow and cater to the clear twitch and overall stutter in your expression. His gaze switched back and forth between the way your pussy was swallowing up his slightly curving inches and the flashes of surprise to gorgeous pleasure across your face.

The slow, shallow grinding into your rather accepting cunt only lasts for so long until he physically can’t take it anymore.

That quickly ends with one blunt thrust, his unfairly fat tip smooching the hilt of your soaked pussy and hauling a heightened moan from deep within you. Then he’s keeping you perfectly still so that he can begin to bury himself in and out of your gooey cunt, slick dripping off from where you two met and tap, tap, tapping! against the poor crumbled leaves below.

“Mmgh… god, you’re a slut.” Nanami slurs half-drunkenly to you. He was losing his mind faster than he could comprehend, getting so utterly lost in the way you lulled his erection deeper inside your already-stuffed pussy each time he pried himself back. “Letting me fuck you in the middle of the woods like this,” He moans, fingertips now bruising the skin of your hips, “Just eager to be used, huhh?”

“Uhuh,” You drool, no longer caring about the rather debauched state of your ruined frame. “I... ah! Mmgh, I w-wanted this s’bad, Kento..”

He breaks out an all too pleased smile, hips stuttering against your ass now, “This was why you couldn’t sleep, wasn’t it?” He assumes, “You needed a stranger like me to-, hahh.. chase you through the woods ‘n stuff this poor, desperate lil’ hole of yours, yeahhh?”

You’re a delirious mess of all sorts now, nodding cockdrunkenly as he plows into you with loud, wet thrusts. “Y-Yeah, needed this… mmphf-, fuck!” You moan.

“Awh, you’re so sweet.” Nanami coos all of a sudden. 

Though the gentleness of his baritone voice gives you whiplash, considering how he shifts behind you and wraps a bulky arm around your neck unexpectedly. As he captures you in a headlock and pounds his pleasureful cock into you harder, leaving your legs quaking a little, Nanami decides to talk into your ear again with a whisper of,  “How’s it feel to be my sweet final girl?” that leaves you dazed.

“Final-, hnngh…” You’re somewhere through another orgasm now, having not even realized the mess you’ve begun to leave against his sloppy dick. Breathing past the pressure of muscle at the center of your throat, “F-Final girl?”

“Yes,” He murmurs softly as if it were no big deal. Your body was just jerking and bouncing with the way he roughly fucked you senselessly, carrying on this little conversation with such ease that it literally had your eyes crossing and your mind reduced to a mushy mess, “You know, the only person to survive a killer in those slasher movies,” Nanami explains.

“K-Kento!” You gasp out in response to that. This meant he really was that axe murderer all this time! Not that you had the time to digest that when he was too busy rearranging your very euphoric walls, “Hahh… those-, mmgh! Those articles, they-, ah.. they were all you?” You eventually manage.

Nanami tilts his head to the side and you miss the way he flashes a full, proud smile, “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself.”

Sputtering, “Then why… mmpf-, f-fuck, why’re you letting me live?”

“Priorities, sweetheart,” The blond insists, thick strands of hair sticking to the crown of his forehead now. “I’m hoping if I fuck you hard enough you won’t tell anyone,” He admits, as if he couldn’t have gotten away with this whole thing without ever admitting anything to you.

And yet, your pussy was down there gushing all over him as soon as he revealed his “secret” to you. So, he felt as though you didn’t care too much about who he cut up in his free time, especially not now when you’re too busy taking his cock.

“But-, fuck…” Your body convulses a little and his head was churning against your sweet spot, leaving stringy cobwebs of cum against it as he held back the incoming load he was about to fill you with, “Kento, a-all those people-”

“Shhh, shh, I promise you they all got what was already coming to them,” He explains as if to soothe your moral worrying in the moment. Then he has the nerve to grunt and sharply halt the movement of his hips, using the arm around your throat to bend your body a little more as his cock spurts thick ropes of his seed into you as he pants, “You trust me, don’t you?”

Nodding, “U-Uhuh.” as he lazily pumps his cum deeper inside you, almost like he wanted to make sure it took.

Nanami snickers your agreement, “Aw, poor girl, she’s too stuffed to think straight anymore,” He points out smoothly, sliding his other hand down to rub over your clit and feel the way your body thrashes against his in overstimulation, “So what do you say, huh? You won’t tell anyone about me, right?” He asks anyway.

Your voice is a shaky stutter and you felt as though you couldn’t breathe, choking up on your own orgasm, “I-I’d never-, nngh.. snitch on you, Kento.” You claim stupidly.

To which Nanami rolls his eyes, “Wow, it really only takes some cock to have you trusting a complete stranger? Pathetic…”

A couple more energy-spent thrusts later and his length flops out of you, leaving your pussy leaking with his cum and the two of you panting heavily.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to gather yourselves, but neither of you really moves. You stay wrapped up in the rather endearing headlock he’s put you in, and he doesn’t seem like he plans to let you go at first.

Then, it’s slow but, he carefully unravels you out of his grasp, and you two lean forward against the poor tree that had to stand there and watch you two go at it like feral animals.

Nanami’s bare chest is rising and falling with slow, measured breaths against you, and you find it oddly peaceful now. Well, ignoring the filth of cum sliding down your thighs currently…

You eventually break the gathering of your breath with a playful murmur, “Sooooo,” The moment your breathy tone hit his ears, he knew exactly what you were about to ask. “You don’t uh, kill the people you fuck, riiiight?”

Nanami pauses, long and hard.

“Unfortunately for you, sweetheart,” He begins, just to give you one last scare, “I do.”

Gulp.

tags 1/2:

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Rounding the corner, his long legs making no accommodations for your shorter ones, he says, “No. If you wanted better results, you should have put in a better performance. Surely you’re smart enough to work out that that’s how life works.”

Hands grab his arm, yanking back with all your strength only to be dragged along with him and his burly body. Your heels scrape along the floor. People stare. You don’t care. “Don’t be an asshole. You know my essay was good. It was really good. Just give it a read. A proper one, and not the rushed job you do because you’re overworked and underpaid.”

He stops.

Your face bumps into this back, forehead nearly bruised by the hardness. 

His brows rise above his glasses as he fixes you a look. “Kid, your essay was good — decent introduction, clear structure, sufficient evidence — but it’s not good enough for the extra marks to push you into the top band. Your closing argument fell flat ‘cause of your wishy-washy writing style, you didn’t adequately humour the counter arguments and undermine them to strengthen your thesis, and, worst of all, you misspelt ‘complement.’”

A frown graces your features. 

“No, I didn’t. C. O. M. P. L. I. M—”

“No. With an I, it’s to flatter someone. With an E, it’s to enhance, pair well, or complete another thing.” Toji explains rather robotically, eyes still dead and voice monotone. “For example, if I said you’re a pretty girl, that’s a compliment. And if I said, your essay goes well with the trashcan over there, that’s a statement that suggests the two complement each other. See the difference?”

He’s already stalking off again, hands in his pockets, huge stature unwilling to accommodate the people walking down the hallway. 

You break into a jog, panting embarrassingly by the time you reach him. “Dude, we’ve known each other for three years. We’ve gone through a lot together. We’re basically friends. Can’t you do your best pal a solid?”

Toji glances down at you. He pushes a door open, holding it a second longer than he needed to. You follow behind him. Somewhat amused, he replies, “We know each other because we’re on the same course, not by choice. And I don’t know what you mean by the whole ‘we’ve gone through a lot together’ thing — the most dramatic thing we’ve faced is when the projector didn’t work and we had to go into a different hall. And we’re definitely not friends.”

Well, fuck, you’re running out of rope. 

“Then, let’s officially be friends,” you offer, elbowing him gently. “If you ever need help, buddy, I’ll always have your back.” Then, in an act of complete desperation, you begin shakily singing, “You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. When the road looks tough ahead—”

A heavy hand shoves you away by your head. You stumble into a bulletin board.

“Enough,” he gruffs. “My day’s already fucked because the prof lost his papers and wants to blame me. I don’t need to lose my hearing on top of that.”

Your head flits around. “Did you guys see that?” People give you weird looks. “He just shoved me. The TA just shoved me. We need to protest his violent behaviour by demanding he remarks our papers. Who’s with me?”

Everyone walks past without another look at you.

Toji, on the other hand, lifts his glasses and runs a hand down his face. Muttering something under his breath, he pushes a door open and holds out a hand before you can mindlessly follow. “It’s the men’s bathroom. Tell me you’re not shameless and stupid enough to come in here.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

His eye twitches. 

As though an idea comes to him, he straightens ever so slightly. “I’m gonna take a dump; you’ll be waiting a while.”

“That’s okay — I have no more classes so take your time but make sure you don’t stay sitting down longer than you need to,” you tell him, smiling innocently and standing aside to let a guy walk out, ignoring the freaked out face he makes at you. “You can get hemorrhoids."

He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman.” 

That seems to be as much of you he can tolerate because he walks in without another word to you. Opposite the door, you lean against the wall, whistling and coming up with alternative lines you can pull on him. 

God, he’s so stubborn. 

It’s not like giving you the marks docks his pay or lowers the professor’s opinion of him. He’s clearly just being an ass. 

If he wasn’t such a good TA, a genuinely intelligent man, you would have gone above his head and asked for the prof’s personal assessment. But no, he has to be knowledgeable, a helpful source of information when you’re lost, someone who seems to know everything about any topic, who knows the exact pages of a textbook you should read to further your understanding, and who’s never declined a meeting for clarification on something you wrote. 

For years now, you two have had a friendship-like relationship, often sharing snacks and exchanging brief words before or after lectures and classes, despite what he says.

Everyone gets along with him, though you’ve never actually seen him hang out with friends or go to parties. Maybe he doesn’t have any. Word on the street is he works part time in a couple different places. Some say so he can afford drugs, some for tuition. 

The rumours never interested you, apart from any that mused about his love life, which seems to be nonexistent except for the many girls who hit on him. Not that you’re especially interested.

It’s just fun to be in the know.

Who knows how long has passed since he went in there. Your phone says fifteen minutes. Is that a normal amount of time for someone to be taking a dump?

Hesitantly, you push the door open and yell out, “Fushiguro? You doing okay? Is it stuck? For a couple extra marks, I’ll give you a hand.”

No one replies. 

Brows furrowing, you bend down, looking through the stalls. No feet. What the hell?

Ahead, a window is ajar. Big enough for a man to squeeze through. Well isn’t that convenient? The kind of convenient that exists only in fiction.

Aggrieved and feeling bamboozled, you stomp back to your dorm room, slamming the door, jumping face down on the bed and screaming into the pillows. You’d feel better if you knew he had a grudge on you, if you bumped into him the first day and spilled his coffee all over himself and he’d never forgotten it. Instead, he’s just like that: does things by the book, does his job well, and achieves the best grades with ease. 

Naturally, he’d become the professor’s assistant, a coveted position that seemed like it was made for him from the very beginning, and made your life a living hell because he won’t ever make concessions for you.

Sure, you shouldn’t ask him to, but it’s not like you’re asking for much. You’re generally a high performing student — punctual, hard working, ambitious — but you had one bad day which resulted in one bad essay and it lowered your average and now the internship you’d been eyeing could be snatched from your hands in a blink of an eye. 

“It’s just not fair,” you cry out to your teddy bear. “It’s three marks. Three! Would it kill him to reread my essay and find those three marks?”

Mr. Teddy stares back at you and says, “He’s a grumpy man. Don’t take it personally.”

You sit up, blinking and processing his reply.

“Teddy…you’re right. He is a grumpy man, a TA with broad shoulders, yummy arms, and thick thighs with a bubble butt, but a man nonetheless. If he won’t pull favours for me, student to student, maybe he’ll pull favours for me man to woman.”

The plushie falls to the bed as you stand, staring at yourself in the mirror and formulating a plan. 

With that you decide to seek him out the next day, sporting a new outfit and a different attitude.

.

.

.

“Hi.”

“Fuck off.”

The cafeteria’s busy. It always is. It’s loud enough that most people wouldn’t even hear the exchange — chairs banging on tile, trays clattering, someone laughing too loudly at a table nearby. 

Toji’s hunched slightly over a bowl of udon noodles, chopsticks moving lazily as he slurps them down. Some sports clip plays on his phone, propped against his dented metal water bottle. Commentators yell about something you don’t understand. His sleeves are pushed up over his forearms, revealing ropey muscle and the faint silvery line of an old scar running across his wrist.

An old hoodie hangs off his shoulders over a plain white T-shirt. Distressed jeans, worn sneakers. He’s too big for the plastic chair, long legs spread under the table. When he saw you approach, his feet had hooked onto the chair legs, forcing you to fight to remove it from his clutches so you could take a seat.

So damn rude.

His glasses have fogged slightly from the steam of the noodles.

He doesn’t look up. But he knows it’s you. You can tell by the way his mouth tightens for half a second before he goes back to eating.

You snatch his phone away. His green eyes flick up, annoyed. You smile, arms pushing your breasts together so they spill over your tight top. Toji’s gaze doesn’t waver. He continues to stare at you like you’re a pest. 

“You can’t take no for an answer?” he asks though it’s not a question at all. “Might want to retake the consent course.”

Manicured fingers walk up his bare forearm before scratching down from his elbow. His skin is warm. Light dusting of hair tickling your fingertips. “Oh, Toj, have I ever told you how handsome you are? Because you really are. You’re so damn hot I can hardly focus on the lectures.”

He snorts, still eating his noodles and still refusing to look at your cleavage. “That’ll explain why you’re missing marks.”

Jaw dropping, you force yourself to recover quickly. A heeled foot brushes against his calf, sliding his jeans up. You bat your lashes, sultrily saying, “The only thing I’m missing is your cock in me, big boy.”

Toji meets your eyes again. His scarred lips twitch. “I don’t need to tell you that was bad, do I?”

You cringe, foot dropping and whole body slumping back into the chair. “Yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it.” Then you sit up, handing him his phone, and asks, “Are the noodles good? I’ve never had them.”

Phone pocketed, he shrugs. “They’re just the cheapest deal on the menu. Growing girl like you should get something more filling.”

The menu’s extensive, and the only thing sticking out to you is the chicken burger and chicken tenders meal deal. It seems to be especially popular today but you’re not sure you can finish the whole thing. 

“Hey, if I get the Meal Super Cluck Blaster, will you share it with me? I’ve got dinner plans later so I don’t want to fill up.”

That finally gets a reaction. Toji leans back a little and gives you a slow once-over. Tight top. Lacy bra peeking up. Glossy lips. More jewellery than usual. His eyebrow lifts. “That why you’re dressed like a hooker?” he asks lazily. “Hot date?”

“Nah,” you reply, waving him off. “Wore this for yo— Wait.” You lean forward, staring at him wide eyed. “Are you jealous? Are you in love with me already? Because for extra marks, I’ll cancel my dinner plans and promise myself to you for all eternity.”

Toji rolls his eyes. “Go get something to eat; you sound insane.”

You hop up. “Okay, but stay there, alright? Take my burger because I only want the tenders. Oh, and will you share a pot of cheesecake with me? I’m lactose-intolerant but I really want cheesecake right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’s still here when you come back. 

As soon as you hand him the wrapped up burger, he scarfs it down the way big men do, like they haven’t eaten in days. You push him the tenders too. You’d actually gotten a double serving of everything so you have your own portion of tenders and he gets to eat another burger. There’s no way a man his size could survive on udon noodles.

“Also, let’s not act like you didn’t leave me hanging outside the men’s bathroom yesterday,” you bring up after sipping your juice. “Can’t believe you left through the bathroom window just so you could get away from me.”

“I didn’t,” he says, mouth full and adjusting his glasses. 

You frown, dipping a piece of chicken in hot honey. “No, you definitely did. I peeked and there were no feet in any of the stalls. Unless you’re telling me you can grow invisible.”

“Just lifted my legs when I heard you come in, which I knew your crazy ass would do, so I could finally leave in peace. Didn’t think it’d take you fifteen minutes though.”

A laugh escapes you. “You were waiting me out? Does that sound like the mature thing to do? Jeez, you need to act your age.”

Toji’s eyes meet yours. Your smile falters for the briefest second. “I’m not that much older than you,” he reminds you. “Only by two years.”

“And yet you call me kid or kiddo,” you retort, clearing your throat. Have his eyes always been that green and deep? And is his voice usually that husky and masculine? Because you could have sworn guys your age don’t sound like that.

He shrugs again, second burger finished in a blink of an eye. “Never hurts to remind yourself.”

“Remind yourself what?”

The legs of his chair screech as he pushes it back. He stands, picking up his tray, and answers, “Forget about it. Enjoy your dinner plans. And I’m taking the cheesecake — no one wants a gassy date.”

“Wait,” you call out before he can turn away. “My marks?”

A pat on the head ruffles your hair. 

“Still a no, kid.”

.

.

.

“What if I suck your dick?”

Toji lifts his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I’ve got a ton of papers to grade for another class; I don’t have time for you.”

The door shuts behind you. His office is bare, not a single decoration littering the place, not a plant nor a picture. 

His office is exactly how you remember it — disappointingly, aggressively empty. The walls are a dull institutional beige that makes the overhead fluorescent light feel even harsher. No posters. No photos. Not even a sad little plant struggling for life in the corner.

Just a desk. A filing cabinet. Two chairs that look like they were stolen from a waiting room. It’s the kind of office someone occupies temporarily, like he expects to leave at any moment and doesn’t see the point in settling in.

Leaning against the desk anyway, your fingers drum lazily along the edge.

You’ve been here before: once to argue about a paper he’d shredded with red ink, once because you’d missed an exam and needed him to sign a form, and once because you’d sworn you heard him swearing loud enough to be heard halfway down the hallway.

You grip his shoulder, squeezing as you scan the fat stack of papers on his desk — the prof’s particular about handwritten essays. There’s so much to read through; you do not want to be him. 

“God,” you mutter, flipping through a few pages of the stack. “There’s like fifty here.”

“Seventy-two,” Toji corrects without looking up. His handwriting is sharp and aggressive, red ink slashing through entire paragraphs like he’s committing academic murder. You wince in sympathy for whoever wrote the paper currently being dismantled.

“Good thing you can multitask, can’t you? I’ll suck your dick under the desk, you grade papers, and you bump me up a grade. Easy.”

He shrugs you off, hulking body hunched over and pen scratching on the papers, leaving harsh circles and comments like, ‘what the hell does this mean?’ and ‘you can’t just say perchance.’ 

Toji gruffs, “I’m serious. Take your jokes elsewhere.”

Nah, you think to yourself. 

With a massive struggle against his weight, you yank his chair back, wheeling him a distance from the desk and clambering under before he can fill the space again. He makes some noise above you but you pay him no mind. Your hands rest on his meaty thighs through his sweatpants, marvelling at the density, at the strength you find in them. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” His foot nudges your knee. “Get the fuck out. I’ll cropdust you if I have to.”

You call his bluff by clutching his clothed cock. He jolts, grunting. Laughing softly, you muse, “You say all that but you have a semi already — did my proposition get you hard, Toji?”

You’re rubbing his hard on, trying not to get flustered by how big he feels, and how fat the girth is. Of course he’s big. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been so surprised; he’s a big man so naturally the proportions will match up. 

“Suck my dick, don’t suck my dick, it doesn’t matter,” he says, sighing and probably pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting those marks.”

He thinks that’ll stave you off because he knows you’re whoring yourself out for a grade. What he doesn’t know is that your stupid little brain’s already forgotten about all of that the moment you felt his cock. Now all you can think about is how you’ll have to stretch your lips nice and wide to take him in, and even then, even when your throat is lax and loose, you won’t be able to take him to the base. 

Toji grunts again, peering down at you. “You mouthing at my dick? Did’ya not hear what I said?”

Like you’ve been possessed, you press kisses to where his tip is, humming around it. “I heard, but your dick’s saying other things to me, and I know which I prefer to listen to.”

“My dick’s not marking your paper, so get the fuck up,” he growls.

“Don’t wanna.”

“You’re fucking killing me here.”

A heavy hand bundles your hair up, pulling but you fight against it, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints. His boxers have a hole, and yet you only find it endearing. Freeing his cock so it bounces up and smacks your cheek, it leaves a wet mark on your skin. 

Tutting, he wipes away the wetness from your skin. 

Oh fuck, he really is big. 

With nothing between you and his dick, you can see him in all his glory in the partial shadow of under his desk — long, thick, flushed red, already shiny at the slit, veiny as hell, hairs at the base wild and unruly, with weighty balls to match. You’ve never seen anything better. 

Tongue out, you lick him from base to tip, prodding at his frenulum.

“Quit it,” he commands through gritted teeth. 

You moan wantonly, already addicted to the salt on his kin, to the texture of his veins, to the softness of his cockhead. “Toji, you’re so big. I don’t think this’ll fit inside me.”

The thing throbs, bobbing. A droplet oozes out and you quickly lick it up. The hand that was pulling your hair has grown slack, simply resting on the back of your head, keeping you from bumping the wood. 

Voice hoarse, he mutters, “If anyone can make it fit, it’ll be your stubborn ass.”

Your eyes meet his from under the desk, mischief sparkling in them you’re sure. His cock throbs again. “I thought you had papers to mark, Fushiguro. Maybe you should get on that, no?”

A calloused thumb presses down on your lips, shushing you. It slides down, bringing your bottom lip down with it, before releasing it so it’ll bounce back in place. That same thumb holds your jaw open, hand guiding your mouth to his tip. You know what he wants. You also know that he knows that you both know that you won this time. 

Wide as you can, you take as much of his length as possible. You don’t get much further than a third of the way, full beyond belief and overwhelmed by just how much of him there still is. Your nails dig into his thighs.

“If this is supposed to convince me to give you extra marks, then you’re failing real hard, doll,” he notes, gripping the base. “Can barely fit the head, can you?”

He’s acting like it’s your fault he’s so big. 

Challenged, you loosen your throat to take him an inch deeper. You gag around the length. Toji curses under his breath. “Careful,” he mutters. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You ignore him in favour of shallowly bobbing, sucking and licking what you can, as though he’s a lollipop. It’s actually kinda fun.

The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper and paper rubbing on paper echoes in the relatively quiet office. Only the wet sounds of your mouth sucking his cockhead pierces the silence. 

Growing more and more used to his size, you flick your tongue around the head, letting your hands wrap around the rest of him, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth. Occasionally, he makes a couple breathy noises — low grunts when your tongue laps up his tip, gravelly groans when you hollow your cheek to suck, and rough exhales through his nose when you grip his balls, massaging them, thumb rubbing the seam. 

It becomes easier to forget why you were here in the first place; you’re just blowing him for your own entertainment now, wanting something to occupy your throat. 

Then, he asks, as though he’s making casual conversation, “How was the date?”

“Hmm?”

Toji rolls his eyes. “The date,” he repeats. “How was it? He pay for the meal? Open doors, see you to your door, kiss you goodnight and shit?”

Your lips stretch into a smile. You release him with a pop! “I didn’t go on a date,” you tell him. “My friends hosted a housewarming party because they moved in together. I had a great time, thanks for asking.”

Is he pleased? Unaffected? Genuinely just making conversation? Hard to tell, except for the pushing of his hand, urging you back to his dick, and taking him further inside your throat, till his tip bumps the back of the gummy walls. 

“Good,” he exhales out, thighs flexing around your body. “That’s real good.”

“My blowjob skills or that I had a great time?” you ask, words muffled and barely understandable.

“Both,” he answers. “Both, doll.”

A knock on the door has you both stiffening. Toji glares down at you and whispers, “It’s the prof. Do not make a sound.”

He didn’t need to tell you that — you’re well aware that if you get caught, you’ll both face disciplinary action, and will likely be kicked out of the university. That’s worse than not getting the internship. 

The office falls quiet so suddenly you can hear the ticking of the wall clock. Toji’s hand tightens briefly against the desk as the knock comes again. “Come in,” he calls, voice steady.

The door opens before he even finishes the word.

“Ah, Fushiguro, there you are,” the professor says, stepping inside with a stack of papers tucked under one arm. “I wasn’t sure if you’d left already.”

From your position under the desk, you can only see shoes. Polished leather. Slow steps across the floor. You don’t slide his cock out of your throat, lest it makes a sloppy noise that’ll give you both away. So you breathe through your nose, being very, very quiet.

“No, I was just finishing up some grading,” Toji replies, cool as a cucumber.

His tone is annoyingly normal. Completely unbothered. He’s really convincing. Has he done this before? Is this a normal occurrence? Do a lot of girls offer to blow him for better marks, and does he take them up on it? Are you the one exception to his generosity? 

“Good, good.” Papers shuffle. A chair creaks as the professor sits across from the desk. “I actually wanted to ask about the research methods essays.”

Of course he did.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Toji shifts slightly above you — just enough that the movement brushes your shoulder — and then he leans back in his chair. “Yeah?” he says.

“I noticed something odd in the submissions this year,” the professor continues. “Half the class seems to misunderstand the section on sampling bias.”

He hums thoughtfully. “You mean where they’re supposed to explain the limitations of convenience sampling?”

“Exactly.”

A sheet of paper slides across the desk.

“You see this one here—”

From below, you hear Toji pick it up.

“—they describe the method correctly, but their conclusion contradicts their own analysis.”

There’s a pause whilst the TA reads. You stare at the underside of the desk and try not to shift your knees. God, this is like torture. Having a cock lodged in your throat and not being able to do anything with it is hell. Above the desk, they’re chatting away, talking about your fellow students, with the professor none the wiser that one such student’s under the desk. 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They’re treating correlation like it proves causation.”

“Precisely!” the professor says, sounding delighted. “It’s surprisingly common.” Another pause. You hear a pen tap the desk twice. “I was thinking next year we might restructure the lecture slightly,” the professor continues. “Maybe introduce a short case study before the assignment.”

“Could work,” Toji replies. “Give them something concrete, tangible, to analyse.”

Your legs are starting to cramp. Your lips tighten around his hot cock. Toji brushes your hair back from your face, a quiet act to show he hasn’t forgotten about you. The professor keeps talking, completely unaware.

“Also,” he says, shuffling more papers, “the literature review sections were stronger this year.”

“Mm.”

“I suspect the workshop helped.”

Toji lets out a quiet huff that might be agreement.

“You handled that well, by the way,” the professor adds. “The students seem to respond to your feedback.”

This is way too boring, you decide. In an act you might end up regretting for the rest of your life, your offended tongue prods his tip where he’s still leaking salty precum. 

He grunts, knee crashing up on the wood. 

The professor asks him if he’s alright, and Toji replies, “Fine. Sorry. Just had a cramp.”

A triumphant smile pulls at your lips, which is quickly wiped away by the sudden pinch at your cheek. You wince, unable to smack him in retaliation. 

A sigh fills the room. “I fear you work too hard, Fushiguro. You ought to take a break here and there. Do something fun and wild, or whatever it is people your age do nowadays.”

“I am having fun,” Toji says, hand coming back to rest on your head, growing heavier and heavier until you’re forced to take him inside your mouth, deeper and deeper. “In my own way.”

He’s filling you up more than he was before, now more insistent, no longer so passive. You’re struggling to take him but he’s not letting up. Fuck, you’re soaked between the legs. Who knew you had an oral fixation?

“Well, good,” the professor says. He pushes his chair back. Your heart jumps in joy. “I won’t keep you any longer, I know those papers won’t mark themselves. Boy do I not envy you.” He laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too, Professor.”

Footsteps move toward the door. The handle turns. The door opens. Closes. Silence. Two seconds pass.

Then Toji peers down, licking his scarred lips, and mutters under his breath, “You needy fucking girl. Couldn’t wait, could you? Couldn’t resist not being a pain my fucking ass. If you want cock so badly, then here you go.”

His hips thrust up, hand keeping you in place. Your eyes fly open, throat stretching to take all of him in. Oh, he was as pent up, as frustrated, as you were. The force in which he’s rutting inside your throat displays that nice and clear. 

“You’ll do anything for a good grade, won’t you? Even debase yourself like this. God, you drive me crazy.”

You gag around his cock but he doesn’t pay any mind to that. No, Toji’s just rutting inside your mouth over and over again, grunting louder and louder now. 

Meanwhile, your hand seeks out the heat between your legs. You grind against the heel of your palm, moaning around his length. The vibration has his balls tightening up.

“Fuck!”

Hot cum bursts inside, coating the walls of your throat and your tongue. 

Toji leans back in his chair, which creaks. You pull him out, coughing at the salty burn. Damn, even his loads are big. It’s like a cream puff exploded inside your mouth. 

Hands carry you up, sitting you on his thigh. One rubs your back in circles, the other wipes away the tears at your eyes, licking at the wetness he’s collected on his thumb. “You good, kid?” he asks, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah,” you respond, voice hoarse and not fooling anyone. “I’m good.”

You take a sip of his water from his water bottle, not caring about the fact that you’re drinking from where he had been, and if he cared that your mouth which had been sucking on his dick and cum is on his cup, he didn’t say.

He sighs, tucking himself back in and says, “Come by my place tonight. Hand me your essay again and I’ll reread it. But I’m not making any promises about finding extra marks, alright? It’s just a second chance, and the only one you’ll get.”

Dopily, you smile at him. “Throat game that good, huh?”

His lips twitch. He shoves you away, smacking your ass as you walk away.

“I’ll text you the time and place. Don’t be late.”

Nodding, you head for the door, not leaving however till you ask, “Should I wear matching underwear, or is this a strictly keep your clothes on meeting?”

“Fuck off before I regret it.”

“Lacy thong it is!”

.

.

.

“Should I spread my legs now or do you want me to fluff you first?”

Toji’s deadpan face meets you when he opens the door. He sighs as though he’s regretting this already. Regardless, he lets you in. 

You can tell he showered recently — there’s the scent of cheap soap lingering on his skin and his hair is still a little damp. 

His apartment is nice and clean, which surprises you somewhat. Most guys your age tend to be messy. But you should have known the TA would be neat and organised. 

“I’m serious,” you begin, snuggling up to his side and batting your lashes up at him, “what position do you want me? I’m not the most flexible but I’m not too bad.”

Shaking you off, he pushes you in the direction of the living room where the coffee table is covered with carefully laid out papers he no doubt carried from campus to continue working on. “Go sit down, you horny gremlin. Make some room for your essay and let’s get this over with.”

You do as he says, folding your legs so you can sit by the coffee table on the rug. You take the essay out of your bag, shoving all the others to the side. With a frown, you ask, “So we’re really not fucking?”

He folds himself down too, sitting beside you, knee brushing yours. “I don’t solicit sex in exchange for academic favours. Dunno why you’re so surprised by that — can’t recall having done anything to make you think otherwise.”

“Well, you did give in after I blew you, so…”

“I was gonna offer before you did all that,” he informs you, snorting. “Just never promised to give you the marks.”

Toji adjusts his glasses, taking your papers and starting his reassessment of it. His lips purses, brows furrows, and he stares at the thing like it could tell him the answers to the universe. That or it’s so bad he just can’t fathom what you were thinking. 

“Second paragraph, third line, why the hell is it so convoluted?” he asks, voice returning to that grumpy tone you’re more than familiar with now.

It’s the latter, it would seem. He really meant business. You shaved and everything for nothing. What a shame. 

Leaning over, you rest your head on his big bicep, and, with a pout, reply, “I thought it sounded smart; I was pretty proud of that line actually.”

“No, doll,” Toji says, sighing. “The simpler the better. Don’t purposefully complicate your syntax. Only do what’s necessary to get the point across. If I, an expert in this topic, can barely understand what you mean, how is the ordinary person supposed to?”

“Yeah, okay. Simple is better, I get it.”

He continues reading, red pen in hand and making annotations as he goes. Meanwhile, you’re worming your way into his lap: one hand resting on his thigh at first, then a leg thrown over his. He notices what you’re doing — there’s no way he doesn’t know — but he doesn’t put up a fight. Eventually, you’re sitting in his lap, his chin resting on your head, and his arms caging you in. 

Toji’s warm. He’s comfy to rest on despite all the muscles. Closer now, his soapy scent envelops you. It goes straight to your head. You find yourself squirming. 

“Keep still,” he reprimands, underlining a phrase twice for emphasis. “You can’t just use jargon if you’re not going to explain it. It’s bad practice.”

“Got it.” Fiddling with his spare hand, running your fingers down his and over his palm, you ask, “Are academics supposed to have calluses?”

“They bother you or something?”

“No, not at all. I’m just curious.”

He hums. “I do odd jobs here and there, some more manual than others so yeah I built up some calluses.” Without missing a beat, he pivots the topic. “Tell me again what the difference is between compliment and complement.”

You bring that hand up to your breast, imploring him to grope your tits as you reply, “With an I is to praise someone or something, and with an e is to say something matches well with another.”

A moan escapes your lips when he squeezes in approval. Toji mutters, “Good girl. Guess you do listen to me.” Thumb brushing your hardened nipple through the thin material of your top, you squirm in his lap. His lips move against the top of your head. “No bra?”

“I figured you were going to take it off me anyway so I didn’t bother,” you say, still pressing his hand to your tit, riding the motions of every grope and flick of your nipple. 

Another hum. 

Slowly, you guide that hand down lower. He must know what you’re doing, where you want it to end up, but he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t reprimand or put up any resistance; he’s curious to see how far you’re willing to go. And you’re curious to see how much restraint he has, how long he can hold out before his façade of nonchalance breaks and he’s fucking up inside you.

You tease yourself, and him, first — his fingers, with your guidance, tease your bare thighs, following the hem of your tight skirt. Growing breathless, you ask, “What kind of odd jobs do you do?”

Toji’s calluses tickle the sensitive skin in your inner thighs just right. He’s still marking your paper, occasionally fact-checking your ideas and his theories in a textbook on the table. Amused, he retorts, “You curious about me, doll?”

“Hmm, I want to know exactly whose cock will be stretching me out in a minute.”

He snorts, patting your clothed pussy. You jolt with every impact. “I tutor on the side. Fix up some cars in the garage in town. I’m a physical trainer for three clients at the local gym too. And when I’m low on money, I sell risqué pictures of myself. That disgust you?”

All while he answers, Toji’s blunt nails scrape your slit through your panties. He’s not applying much pressure at all, if any, and yet every skim, every travel up and down has goosebumps rising on your skin.

“N-no,” you answer quickly. “I think that’s really cool. If I had a body like yours, I’d take pictures all the time too.”

His laughter rumbles in his chest. An odd sense of pride warms your own. He says, “Your body’s more than good enough to sell too, you know. Don’t act like you don’t know guys give you double takes all the time, or that your ass could stop traffic.”

Giggling, you lean back, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you stare at my ass sometimes, Toji?”

God, you’re soaked. You can tell, though you’re not embarrassed whatsoever. If anything, you’re just itching for him to pull your panties to the side and touch you skin to skin, to plunge inside your pussy and make a mess out of you.

“Tell me where you can, and should, insert a semi-colon in paragraph six, and I’ll give you an honest answer.” 

He nudges you with his chin. “Go on. Quit thinking with your pussy and give me the right answer.” A little aggrieved, you sit up straight, holding his wrist to keep his hand between your legs. Your eyes scan the section. Tentatively, you point to a full stop on the second line. Toji shakes his head and smacks your clothed pussy again. “Try again, and don’t guess.”

“Here,” you snarl, feeling way past pent up. “Now give me my reward.”

Toji huffs. “Semi-colons help for varying sentence structures. It’s in the little ways you can convey your points compellingly. Don’t underutilise the right punctuations.”

“Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. Rub my clit and answer my question already.”

Cool air brushes against your swollen, glistening lips. You sigh when his warm hand covers the entire slit barely a second later. His middle fingers are instantly coated in your wetness. He groans. “Fuck, doll, you’re dripping.” Toji doesn’t give you a moment to respond to that; his fingers rub at your throbbing clit in tight circles, drawing it out of his hood. You moan, back arching. 

Finally, he answers, “I stare at your ass all the fucking time after I glare at the losers whose eyes wander from their laptop screens . I’m a big, fucking hypocrite — that what you wanna hear?”

“Fuck yes!”

Rustling of paper reaches your ears. Then two hands are on you: one furiously rubbing the bundle of nerves and the other gripping your throat. He squeezes threateningly. Your vision spots, jaw dropping. “Look at you, all desperate to have my cock inside you. And for what? For a couple marks? You’re not ashamed?”

Your ass is grinding back on his boner, sandwiching the hard thing between your cheeks as your own answer. How could you be ashamed when he wants you so bad too?

“I’m horny! Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

In a split second, you find your world spinning. Your back falls on something hard. You’re staring up at the ceiling, papers scattered beneath you. Rough hands tug you down by your thighs. When you peer down, Toji’s staring up at you from between your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fucking you. You already knew I was gonna. You gonna let me taste your pussy first?” A challenging brow quirks up, like he’s waiting for you to push him away. 

Instead, your legs hook over his shoulders, ankles crossed. You grin at him.

Panties pulled to the side, his fingers spread your pussy for him. Those eyes scan every inch. He releases a shaky breath, cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Even your pussy’s pretty. Fucking gorgeous.” Running a hand through his hair, he says, “You’re always such a pain, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help that every part of me’s pretty,” you reply, twirling your hair.

“Shut up and play with your tits — I like a show with my dinner.” Toji spits a fat dollop right on your clit. It slides down your slit but before it can disappear in the crevice of your ass, his tongue is collecting it and shoving it inside your cunt. 

You gasp. “Fuck, Toji!”

In spite of his aggressive tone, you pull down your top, letting your tits bounce out. Those eyes follow every jiggle. “Good girl,” he rasps. “Squeeze them for me nice and hard. Good. Real fucking good.”

His glasses are foggy now with your own humidity, rattling with every movement. He’s eating your pussy out like he’s starved, like he’s never tasted anything better, like he’s going to make sure not a single trace of you can be found in his apartment after he’s done with you. 

Growling, he spread your thighs wider. “Course you’ve got a sweet pussy,” he says, brows furrowing in what appears to be anger. “Course it’s sweeter than that fucking cheesecake. Course I’ll be craving you till I die.”

Fingers tangle in his hair, tugging for purchase. “Ngh, Toji, my clit…suck my clit!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Those scarred lips, the very ones you’ve stared at more times than you can count, wrap around your clit, sucking hard the way you did when you were blowing him under the desk. Electricity sparks inside, sending tremors up from your lower belly to your tits to the very tips of your fingers. “Oh fuck, that’s so good.”

Filthy squelches are being wrung out of you, and you know he’s doing it on purpose, addicted to how responsive your body is to him.

Two fingers worm their way through your pulsing hole, basking in the rough textures of your entrance, stretching your gummy walls on their way to curling against that spot that has you oozing more cum out. 

“You’re fucking tight,” he hisses. “You’re gonna struggle taking all of me later.” Then he barks a laugh, spare hand pressing down on your belly where the pressure builds up. Your toes curl. “A better man would take pity on you, go slow or wait another day, but I’ve already had my tongue inside your cunt so I’ll spare you the gentleman act.”

More fingers shove in, ignoring the screech that you let out. You’ve never had more than two and yet all four of his thicker, longer fingers are inside pushing your walls to their very limits. 

Despite that, he remarks, entertained by the shock on your face which he studies through his glasses, “Suck it up, buttercup — my cock’s thicker than this, you know that.”

You do. 

It’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. Hours after, your jaw’s still stretched out, sore and creaking after the workout you put it through. The thought of having something even thicker, longer than his four fingers has you growing dizzy, head handing over the coffee table.

“Yeah, my cock can’t wait to feel you too,” Toji says, not to you but to your pussy which is squelching lewdly and loudly. “Had to resist jerking my dick raw all day so you better make it good for me.”

Is it seconds later, or minutes, maybe hours, when you cum?

How ever long it is no one can deny it’s the strongest orgasm of your life. 

Your entire body trembles, spasming beyond control. Are you screaming or silently moaning? Are your eyes shut or have you gone blind? And is he still pistoning his fingers inside you, damn near pushing all of his hand in? 

“Stop,” you cry out. “No more, please!”

Mercifully, he yanks his hand out. Unfortunately, it leaves you feeling so empty you immediately crave the feeling of his hand gripping you from inside. 

Lips and chin glistening, he kisses both inner thighs, which tremble. 

Toji gathers you with one arm, showing off his strength as he carries you off the table and to the glass door which leads out to the balcony. It’s dark out and all you can see are the lights of people’s rooms in the apartment across. There are families lounging, dogs sleeping, TV’s blaring. 

Behind you, you hear the rustling of his shirt as he throws it off carelessly. Bare skin grazes your own soon after his hands make quick work of the clothes you’re still wearing. In a flash, you’re naked. He bends down to pick up your fallen panties, inhaling the gusset deeply. Your legs cross tightly at the deeply satisfied groan he lets out. 

“Next office hour,” he starts, lazily spreading your pussy lips and smearing your juices around so he can listen to the squelches and keep your squirming, “you better leave your panties with me. Consider it payment.”

You laugh. “Sure.”

Groggily, you try to keep your head up, wondering what you’re doing by the window, still a little out of it. A hand clutches your jaw, aiding you. 

“I’m gonna fuck you against this window,” he announces, leaving no room for arguments. “You want those extra marks? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take my cock like a champ.”

Ass gyrating back against the hot, heavy thing still confined in sweatpants, you wonder, “Do you have an exhibitionism kink?”

He lets go of you. You have to catch yourself by pressing your palms to the cold glass. Toji drags your hips back, foot kicking your legs apart. His cock plops onto your ass, scalding. “No, I have a ‘get my time’s worth from shameless women who waste my time with demands for better grades by humiliating them’ kink.”

“Sounds long. We should get that shortened,” you drawl.

His cockhead slides through your pussy, coating itself in your wetness. The fat thing bumps against your clit. You shudder. 

Satisfied with your natural lubrication, he prods your entrance. “Yeah, we should. Let’s call it, Shut The Fuck Up And Take It.”

Then he enters you in one go.

You scream.

The window fogs up with your breath. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

You’re taking so much of his length so quickly that it should be painful. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of pain, not one you didn’t like at least — only the overwhelming pleasure of being filled up is resonating. 

Toji grunts. “Almost had to fist this cunt and you’re -hah fuck- still too tight.”

Pummelling his cock in, his hips don’t pause for a second. You gasp for breath, palms slipping and sliding on the condensation that’s built up on the glass. It’s like you can feel him in your lungs, so impossibly deep, so hot, so intimidating. 

“God, it should be a crime to have a body like this,” he says, hands groping every part of your flesh he can reach. He slaps your ass to watch it jiggle for him. He’s an ass man, that much is clear.

The force of his thrusting has you pushed closer to the glass, so close now that almost your entire front is flush with the surface. The coldness grazes your nipples. You moan. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

He tugs you back to him, body sliding down the glass till your ass is jutted out. Toji carries your hips up so you can reach him, but it means your toes are only brushing the floor. You cling to the glass door as much as you can. Through the glossy haze, you see the marks you left on the glass, from the oils and sweat on your skin. You see the outline of your tits, all round and fat, the handprints you left and the smearing of them all over the place because you couldn’t grapple with one position to have them in. 

Are people watching? Are you flashing a poor old man, are you reigniting a sexual appetite in a pitiful divorcee, making a housewife jealous, creating fantasies for some guy your age? Are people rubbing one out to the flashes of ecstasy on your face, to the swaying of your tits, to the rippling of your ass?

Toji’s fingers creep under you, furiously teasing your clit. You whine. “I think I’m gonna cum again.”

“Go on, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Lemme feel you cum around my cock. Make my dreams come true.”

Two fingers gather the cream that’s formed a ring at his base. He draws three letters on the glass for you to stare at. It spells out c u m.

God, he’s dirty.

Another orgasm ripples through you. Your thighs shake. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Toji!”

He growls out, hands tightening their grip on your hips, threatening to bruise, “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum early.”

Without waiting for you to come down from your high, he flips you around. Your back thuds against the door. His cock reenters you in a clean, easy slide, cunt beyond soaked and stretched out. Your arms and legs wrap around him. 

Those glasses of him have fogged up so thickly now that they fail to serve their purpose. Toji takes it off with one hand, sliding it onto your head, like a headband keeping your face clear of your hair. “Don’t let them fall,” he orders. “They break and you won’t be getting that internship.”

And his lips?

They smack against yours.

He kisses you, all tongue and teeth and drool dripping down chins, like he’s been waiting weeks, months, perhaps years to do that. And you kiss him back just the same. 

Inside you, his cock throbs. Toji’s hips swing back and forth, pelvis grinding on yours, rubbing your clit and wringing our more obscene squeeeelches. 

“Oh god, I’m so full, Toji. You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re -hngh- t-taking me so well,” he praises, littering sloppy kisses all over your face and neck all while he pinches and rolls your nipples. “Moaning so adorably, all pretty and finally keeping this mouth quiet of smartass comments. You should be like this all the time.”

The rocking of his cock inside you is even better like this. The closeness, the warmth, the taste of him — you wonder why you waited so long to do this. 

Tits squashed to his chest, your nipples scrape his skin, slipping and sliding with the sweat beading down your bodies. The hard planes of his chest feel magnificent. Nothing about his muscles are for vanity only, and the knowledge of the strength he’s holding back has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“You’d miss my smartass comments,” you tell him, head thrown back and hips working their way down on his cock of their own volition.

Toji groans against your neck, licking droplets of sweat. “Yeah, maybe. I definitely wouldn’t miss your spelling errors though.”

Smiling, you tug his head up by his hair, and bite his bottom lip. You pull and let go so it’ll snap back into place like he’d done with your lip when you were under his desk. “Maybe if you taught me like this, I wouldn’t -hah- make so m-many mistakes— deeper, Toji! Fuck me deeper.”

His hips plough deeper inside, like you wanted, hitting that spot inside you till you’re sure it’ll be bruised in the morning. Moans after moans are fucked out of you; his neighbours will give him an earful tomorrow, you’re certain. 

“Book more office hours just to see me and not because you want something from me, then we can see if I can fuck your stupidity out of you,” he retorts. 

You peck his lips. “Aw, does poor, needy Toji want me to give him more attention? Does he miss me when I’m not there? What a cute little baby.”

“Yeah, he does, actually,” he says, smirking. “That a problem?”

“It will be if you don’t make me cum.”

Toji reminds you, “You’ve been cumming around my cock this entire time; you still want more? Greedy girl.”

He pulls away from the window, stalking over to the sofa instead. Each step burrows him deeper inside you, kissing your cervix and pushing out gasps from your lips, all of which he swallows. 

Carelessly, he throws you on the sofa. You bounce with an oomph!

Ankles held by one hand, he keeps your legs upright, hips lifted up to meet his. Toji presses a kiss to your ankle bone before he pushes his cock back inside. Your back arches with a mewl. Like this, his huge body becomes even more glaring — he’s casting a shadow over you, completely dwarfing you, reminding you how easily he could break you, how he could take whatever he wants from you. 

Every time he buries himself to the hilt, a bulge pops through your tummy, right under your belly button. 

“Look at that,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over it. You whine. “Feel me deep inside you? You’ll be feeling me inside for days, won’t you? Once it starts to fade, you can always come back for another fill, you know.”

“Promise?” you ask, grinning ear to ear. 

Toji pulls out, leaving just his tip before he slams back in, jostling you down on the sofa. His abs contract, cock throbbing at the sudden clenching of your walls around him. “Fuck, yes, doll. Promise. I fucking promise.”

His glasses have slid off, rattling somewhere on the sofa with the impact of every thrust. He doesn’t seem to care about them anymore. You’re nearing another orgasm, head whipping around at the intensity of the pressure building in your core. He’s bullying his cock relentlessly in your cunt, chasing after his own high and sending you to yours. 

When your eyes clash with his piercing, green ones, unobstructed by his glasses, you explode with a scream. 

“F-fuck,” he grunts, following soon after. 

Searing cum spurts inside you, cock pulsing, cum painting your walls. His thumb rubs your clit, aiding you through your orgasm. Your moans are vibrating against the walls, definitely disturbing his neighbours, but so are his groans. 

He slumps over, rolling the two of you on the sofa so you’re resting naked on his heated body, his heavy arm preventing you from falling off. Your pussy’s sore, a mix of your cum and his dribbling out and creating a sticky mess on your inner thighs. 

Absentmindedly, as you both catch your breath, he rubs your back. You draw shapes and letters on his chest. Toji combs his hair off of his forehead, chest rising up and down with his breathing. The dirty marks you two left are still on the glass, though it’s no longer foggy. 

Reaching up above him, he gracefully finds his glasses, sliding them on his face. You like him with and without them. 

“So,” you begin, “about those extra marks.”

Toji lifts his glasses up to rub a hand down his face. “Jesus, yes, you’ll get the marks.”

“Thanks!” you chirp. 

“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

.

.

.

“Fuck, Toji,” you moan. “I already came three times. It’s too -hic- too much.”

Your TA ruts his cock inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck. His glasses are on your nose bridge, blurring your vision; he gets so frustrated when the thing gets in the way of kissing you or eating you out.

“Shut up,” he rasps, hand pressing down on your lower belly so you can feel him even more. “You’re the one who dragged me here. Take every orgasm I give you and be grateful.”

That’s true — you were supposed to have an office hour with him, which is really an excuse to see your boyfriend before you have to attend the internship induction session, but then you took one look at him and his amazing body and started soaking through your panties so here you two are.

Oh yes, you did say boyfriend.

After he blew your mind out, you’d been visiting his apartment after classes so often, you were practically living there, and he didn’t mind. It started out casual, but after realising you two would go grocery shopping, watch movies together, and text each other practically every day, you decided to just seal the deal and make it official. 

In short, he fucks good, and he can tolerate your personality, so you two stuck together. 

A month in, neither of you are really regretting it. At least, if his desperate thrusting and sloppy kisses to your neck’s anything to go by. 

“Missed you so much, Toji,” you whine, hips fucking back into him.

Toji groans, hand groping your tit from under your shit. “Yeah, baby?”

“Mmm.”

“Missed you too,” he confesses, licking a stripe up your neck and scraping his teeth down. Goosebumps rise on your arms. “Been wanting to see you all morning.”

You giggle, holding onto the stall for purchase and so his thrusting won’t make you smack face first onto the door. “You’re so cute w-when you’re needy.”

“Fuck off,” he says with no real heat to his words. 

In the near distance, the door to the men’s toilets opens with a dull metallic creak, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls. Feet pad in—slow, unhurried. The steady rhythm of someone who expects the place to be empty.

“Fushiguro?” a voice calls out. “You in here?”

The two of you go very, very still. Toji’s entire body stiffens behind you, muscles locking. His hand clamps firmly over your mouth for extra measure, warm palm pressing tight enough that you can feel the tension in his fingers.

Your heart slams against your ribs, loud enough that you’re half convinced it might echo under the stall. What the hell is the professor doing here?

“Susan told me she saw you walk in this direction. You got a minute?”

Toji releases a tense breath through his nose, annoyed at the interruption but left with no choice but to answer. He lifts you up so your feet hang over the floor and won’t be seen by the outsider. “Yeah, prof. But I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

The professor laughs. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. I do apologise for interrupting you. I was just locked out of my account and can’t send emails for the next hour. You know how terrible I am with technology.” He enters the stall next door. He unzips his pants. You cringe. “I only wanted to ask if you’re prepared to host the internship induction later.”

You go still, this time for a different reason. 

Your boyfriend releases your mouth. Fingers creep over to between your legs, where you’re still connected to him, where he’s still throbbing inside you. He slowly rubs your clit, keeping you from squirming in complaint with his strong arms. Toji responds, “Yeah, got all my notes ready.”

The bastard’s trying to distract you…

“Ah good, good,” the older man joyfully responds. His stream hits the water, and you fight the urge to face palm. “I had a look over the plans and the schedule. Very well organised, I must say. The competition was fierce, which is a testament to the success of the event, so props to you.”

Do men hold conversation so casually in the toilets?

Toji carefully begins moving in slow and shallow thrusts, prodding your g-spot over and over with his fat cockhead. You bite your lips to keep from moaning. Your nails dig into his thick arm. He ignores you. 

“Don’t mention it, Professor.”

The man zips himself back up and flushes, exiting the stall. Outside, the tap runs, and you’re both still as quiet as rocks, afraid that any sudden movement will out you both as sexual deviants. 

He adds, “Oh, and thank you for handling the applications for me; you know I hate all that paperwork nonsense.” 

Your jaw drops. 

Beyond tense, Toji replies like he’s aware of the weight every word exchange carries, “I do what I can do to help out.” 

“I couldn’t do what I do without you,” the professor continues, sincere and ignorant to the fact that you’re there. The rustling of paper towels echoes. “Well, I’ll see you later. Apologies again for interrupting.” 

The exit door swings open and you relax, but then his voice fills the space again. 

“Do say hello to your pretty, little girlfriend for me.” 

Your heart? 

Drops to the fucking floor.

Toji’s grip on you tightens just slightly, barely noticeable unless you’re pressed this close to him.

Your mind races. Did he see you come in? Did someone tell him? Did Susan, whoever the hell she is—

Toji speaks before you can spiral further, his tone sharper now, suspicion threading through it. “What do you mean, Professor?”

“Oh, you know, the girl you’ve been eyeing for a while now — she’s on the internship, yes?” Then he laughs the kind of laughter old men do, all paternal and wise. “Don’t worry, son, I’m not accusing you of pulling strings; I know she’s a very intelligent young woman. Ambitious too. Almost as ambitious as you. I hope you two work something out.”

Your heart slows its beating but you’re not any less tense. 

Sighing, Toji responds, “I’ll let you know if we do.”

“Yes, yes,” the professor says before he leaves for good. 

Finally, it’s just you two in the men’s toilets again. The silence and emptiness is maddeningly relieving. Although, you’re seething, practically vibrating with accusations and anger.  

Toji lets you down. Your feet touch the ground again. You pull him out, whirling on him with a disbelieving glare. You snatch his glasses off your face with one hand and smack his chest with the other. The man doesn’t budge.

“You sneaky piece of shit!”

He gathers both of your wrists with one hand, rolling his eyes. Toji takes his glasses from you and slides it on his face. Seeing you clearer now, he guides his cock back to your pussy, re-entering with ease. You moan, allowing him to hike your leg over his hip so he can press in deeper.

Kissing your lips, he mutters against your lips, “I did what I had to to get your attention. Sue me.”

“God, you’re the worst,” you breathe out, chest jutting out to his, nipples aching and clit throbbing. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I’m the big, bad wolf, and you’re creaming all over my dick right now. Let’s not act like you got the short end of the stick here.”

“Master manipulator,” you hiss, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his hair as soon he lets go of your wrists to grope your tit and ass.

“Whore,” he fires back.

Then the two of you smile, clutching each other tightly as you both rock into each other, nearing your mutual orgasm and riding the pleasure growing in your bodies. Fuck, he feels so good.

“We’re gonna be together forever and ever, aren’t we?” you ask.

Toji’s scar brushes your forehead with his kiss. 

“That’s the plan.”

Why you agreed to ditch your big, warm oversized coat for this cropped jacket to expose the curve of your ass is beyond you too. Even more so, why you decided to borrow your “friend’s” clothes tonight when offered is beyond your comprehension too.

You use the term “friend” very loosely. Really, she’s a sorority sister, but even a sister wouldn’t leave you out here to shiver and freeze to go fuck some random frat boy she met at a party…and take the fucking car with her!

You could've been snuggled up in your bed right now, reading a good book with a mug of tea watching the ball drop, but noooo, your sisters just had to force you to get dressed and go out in the cold for some NYE party thrown by a bunch of frat boys that you hardly know. 

You should've never listened to your sisters' "YOLO" speeches, talking about how you're too introverted and too pretty to not go out and that you need to wear different clothes other than your baggy sweaters and that you need to replace your books and studies with dating and one night stands. You've never been interested in any of that, not to mention that guys barely pay any attention to you. You may as well be a ghost to them. 

Even at the party tonight, surrounded by your sisters in their skin-tight dresses, mini skirts, and glossy, flirty smiles, you felt invisible. You stood there for half the night nursing your spiked punch and cleaning your glasses because they kept fogging up from the hot frat house that the party was being thrown in.

Two of your sisters are dating two of the members and the other ones just want to fuck them. None of the frat members even bothered speaking to you, only giving you a once over at the door before letting you in. You can't say that you care much about that though. 

You are way too involved in your studies as a college junior and books, filled with adventure, romance, thrills, and all kinds of juicy plot twists, to be concerned about sweaty, horny college boys. While some nights you do lie awake listening to your sorority sisters getting fucked through the thin bedroom walls and grow envious of their pleasure, you find comfort in knowing that you don't have to be saddled with the bullshit that comes with dating in college.

While you've haven't had a boyfriend since high school because of your shy personality, spectacles, and introverted attitude, you know that it's for the best if you want to keep your head in the game and graduate. 

But still, you decided to switch up your routine listening to your stupid sisters and joined them for the frat boys' NYE party only to be a wallflower and the girl that held your sisters' coats and purses while they shook ass on the dance floor, fell into guys' laps, and drank too many shots.

Completely forgetting about you.

But you could've forgiven aaaall of that if they would've just left you the fucking car. You already know they're back at the sorority house, so there's no way you can go back there and get some good sleep without hearing half of them getting their backs broken in. 

Whimpering from the cold, you look up the street to the frat house. People are still filing out, laughing, joking, throwing snowballs at each other in the frigid rain as they run to their cars. The party is over, the ball has since dropped, and it is close to 2AM as shown by your phone.

You could go back to the house to warm up, but you know that will bring trouble. A girl alone in a mini dress with a bunch of guys is something you don't wish to embark on. 

So you go to the Uber app, hoping that maybe you can order one to take you to a motel for the night or perhaps across the city to your parents' place. However, each ride is about $30-$50 dollars for one ride.

“Fuck," you hiss, exiting the app and instead going to the public trans app. Maybe you can catch the bus? But when you find that all routes nearest to you are shut down for the night, not running again until the morning. Again, louder, you hiss, "Fuck!" and stomp your foot on the ground. 

With your sorority sisters being your last hope, you call and text every single one of them, trying to get them to pick up. None of them do. You're so angry and desperate that you start to cry, ruining the makeup that one of your sisters worked to put on for you.

You quickly wipe your tears away, not wanting to ruin your mascara despite how shitty and discarded you feel. This is shaping up to be a horrible New Years so far...until... 

HONK-HONK! 

You jump at the sound of a car honking and squint into the sheet of rain as a a black Range Rover comes slowly rolling down the street, its white headlights casting a bright glow over you that makes you squint behind your glasses. The window to the driver's side rolls down as soon as the car is in front of you and your heart picks up speed. Is this some creep who saw you out here alone and decided to take a chance on you to snatch you up? 

The window inches down more and more to reveal its very handsome and familiar driver. Geto Suguru, renowned frat boy and member of the college football team. Handsome as ever with his long, black hair, gages, muscles laced in tattoos, and cheeky, dazzling smile with dimples adorning his cheeks. Standing at six-foot something, the perfect height for a football player, he towers over nearly every girl on campus and walks with a confident stride that has all the panties dropping.

He wears a piercing above his left eyebrow, on his lush bottom lip, and is rumored to have a tongue piercing too. You've been in a class with him before and despite the fact that he is a frat member, he isn't the stereotypically dumb one who only cares about sex, parties, and booze. Geto is an exceptional student despite juggling football practice and games, averaging with As and Bs. 

Beside him is none other than Gojo Satoru, another frat boy, playboy, and athlete famous on campus for his ocean blue eyes, dashing good looks, snow-white hair that looks soft to the touch, gorgeous smile, and muscles. He is less tatted and pierced up than Geto, but he is also rumored to have a tongue piercing and one dangling from his dickhead. You've heard your sisters whisper about it before, often trying to see it through his basketball shorts.

Gojo is one on the college's basketball team and just like Geto, he has pretty good grades too though you've never had a class with him. He is way more laidback and cocky, walking with a swagger that attracts the girls and angers the guys as he struts around with his six-foot something self on long, muscular legs with his washboard abs and biceps.

"Hey, cutie!" he shouts from the passenger's side, sticking his head through Geto's window. "Need a ride? Lookin' awfully cold out there!" 

He gives you a grin that is rather sloppy, his blue eyes slightly unfocused. Geto shoots him a look, irritated, before turning back to you. "Sorry 'bout him. He's drunk." He hangs an arm out the window, giving you a look at the ink lacing his arm from shoulder to knuckle. "But seriously, you need a ride somewhere? It's freezin' out here and that doesn't look like a very warm outfit." 

Both his and Gojo's eyes graze over your form, making you hug your jacket closer to your body. In typical frat boy fashion, Gojo and Geto are also known to share their women. There are rumors that the two are dating if not fucking on the side, but you are more worried about the stories of them picking up girls at parties and fucking them, sometimes having three in one night. You've heard rumors about them recording these threesomes too, making you wonder if perhaps they keep this footage for themselves.

Some of your sisters have mentioned sleeping with either Geto or Gojo, or both. Whether they are lying you don't know, but you also don't want to find out what it's like ending up in bed with either Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru. They bring nothing but trouble, leaving girls either crying or obsessed, and that's something you don't need.

So you decline their offer despite your shivering form. "Um, n-no, I'm fine!" you shout among the pounding rain. "I'm just waiting for a ride! They're a little late 'cause of traffic is all!" 

But the car doesn't move on. Maybe they can sense that it's a shit lie. "You're with Uta Bega, right?" Geto asks, raising a pierced eyebrow at you. "Yeah, you look familiar. You were at the party tonight and came in with all those girls."

His lips curl into a smirk, his lip ring glinting in the streetlights. You feel your stomach flutter at the sight of his crooked, sexy little smirk. Despite your disinterest in the two frat boys, you can admit that they are quite attractive. "Yeah, those were my sisters. Sorority sisters, I mean." 

Geto's smirk fades, replaced with a quizzical expression. "And they just left you here?" he asks, sounding surprised. Gojo hums in disappointment, shaking his head as he sips from a beer can. "Jesus, girl, you need to get yourself some new sisters. Don't they know there are creeps out here in these streets?"

You bite your lip, trying not to mention that the two of them are coming off as the creeps Gojo is mentioning. But maybe that's just your paranoia talking. It isn't every day that boys, especially two popular, attractive frat members, take interest in you. 

Geto, noticing your apprehension, tosses you a bone as he shoves Gojo away from his window. "Listen, we were just on our way to pick up more beer, but we're headed back here afterwards. After everybody files out, it'll just be me and Satoru. All the other members are leavin' for the rest of winter break."

Gojo hums in agreement, tipping his three blind mice glasses over his nose to show you his ocean blue eyes. "Yeah, you can come and lay your head down in our comfy beds...unless you got somewhere else you wanna be. We'll take your cute ass wherever you wanna go." 

He gives you a wink that's supposed to disarm you, but it only puts you more on edge. "Uh..." You stop, weighing your options here. There's no telling what could happen if you go with them or if they're telling you the truth. But what other choice do you have? You have no ride and nowhere to go. You're totally stuck here! The cold wind and rain answers for you, making your teeth chatter. 

"I-I guess I can stop by and relax for a b-bit," you decide, shivering at the cold. "B-But only for an hour t-till the traffic dies down." The two frat boys share a look with each other, their expression unreadable, but you don't miss the grin that Gojo shoots Geto. "Cool!" Gojo cackles. "Now get in before ya freeze!" 

Geto unlocks the backdoor for you, allowing you to quickly speed shuffle through the rain in your heels and jump in the car, gasping as the rush of warm central air hits your cold, damp skin. Gojo turns the Pop Smoke song up on the stereo, humming along as he sips his beer. 

"Lemme crank the heat up," Geto grunts, jerking the dial to the heater up. "Feel free to use the buttons back there. I've got heated seats." Gojo snickers, turning to look at you over his shoulder. "He tells everybody that." 

"T-Thank you," you embarrassingly stammer, already moving your hands to turn on the heated seat to warm your butt up. You're so cold that you don't remember to strap yourself in before Geto takes off, rather fast too. You nearly smack into the back of his seat with how hard he turns a corner and goes gunning up the street. You just hope that he's sober. You strap yourself in with shaky fingers and lean down to press them to the vents shooting out heat. Gojo watches, strangely interested. "Jeez, cutie, you're a wreck. How'd your sisters leave you out like that, huh?"

You flush at his words, knowing that he's right but also wanting to defend your sisters at least a little bit from the two drunk frat boys. "I-It's not all them. I never should've come." If you hadn't listened to your sisters' stupid talk about getting outside, getting some dick, and not sticking your nose in a book tonight, you wouldn't have been stuck outside and in this situation now. 

"So you came to our party tonight?" Geto asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror. You advert your eyes, nervous to look at him, nodding.

"Yeah, Ino let her in 'cause she and her sisters were cute," Gojo chuckles, giving you another flirty smile and a wink. "Can't say I blame 'em, but all those girls were mad extra, smart girl. Couldn't wait till they fuckin' left."

Despite the insult, you feel your lips quirk into a humored smile. You allow yourself to silently giggle at the expense of your sisters, noticing that they laughed too loudly and seemed to be all over the place looking for Geto and Gojo at the party.

"Yeah, but you still fucked, like, two of 'em," Geto points out, smirking at the snow-haired frat boy. Your stomach roils at the newfound information, realizing that the rumors were right. Meaning that Gojo was up in your sorority house fucking one of your sisters without you even knowing it was him...and also being the one you masturbated to one time when you were horny and kept awake by the moans and headboard banging against your bedroom wall. But it was only one time!

"That was months ago and both of them were trash!" Gojo scoffs, playfully sloshing his beer at Geto. "Anyways, don't talk about her sisters' sexapades when she's sittin' right there in the backseat!" 

"I-It's fine," you nervously reply, placing your hands firmly in your lap. "I-I know about them. I've heard them at our place before." You flush as you remember thinking how hot your sister's hookup's moans were, realizing with dread that it was Gojo the entire time. "Ahhh, thin walls," Gojo chuckles, shooting you a grin that's the least apologetic one you've ever seen. "My bad. You probably heard me in there a few times before then." You flush in your jacket, looking away from his sly look to instead stare out the window at the passing homes twinkling with Christmas lights. 

Geto's jaw pops as he chews his gum, shifting into the left lane, tossing his middle finger up at a truck who refuses to move. "Never seen ya at our parties before. M'curious, what made ya wanna come by?" You give a dry chuckle, keeping your hands in your lap as you begin to melt into the warmth surrounding the car. "My sisters basically forced me. I didn't really wanna come out." 

Gojo slings an arm behind the back of his car seat, shooting you a rather edgy look. "Why? Too good to party with the likes of us, smart girl?" You feel a lump form in your throat at his loaded question and Geto sharply elbows him, making him cackle. "M'just fuckin' witcha! You're too cute when you're flustered, y'know?" Geto once again elbows him, rolling his violet eyes at his friend's antics. "Cut it out, Satoru." 

You don't know why you feel so tempted to answer the question anyway. Maybe that spiked punch really got to you. "I'm just not a party person," you murmur. "I don't get out like my sisters do. Too busy studying." Geto curiously eyes you in the mirror as he turns another corner, the streets filled with nothing but corner stores and smoke shops. You have no idea what side of the city you're on now. "You're a junior, right? Yeah, you were in one of my classes. Top of the class, I think." 

"Hey, you ever have Calculus II before?" Gojo curiously asks. "I need a really good tutor for that fuck-ass course if I'm gonna graduate next year." You shrug, managing to find your breathing. "Sure...for the right price." Your quirk a small smile as Geto lightly laughs and Gojo raises a brow at you, smirking."Oooh, you've got jokes. Name your price, sweetie, and I gotchu." 

Your smile fades when Gojo turns around, turning up the rap song pumping from the speakers until the bass makes your head throb. You don't know why all of the sudden you're here laughing and joking with these two guys you barely know and happen to be major fuckboys. What if they take your talk and jokes as flirtations? What will you do then? 

"We're here," Geto announces before pulling into a spot in the gas station. He stops by the little 24 hour store glowing with fluorescent lights and takes the keys out of the ignition, pressing a button on his key pod so the engine continues to run. "I'll leave the car runnin' if you wanna chill here. What kinda drink you take?" He and Gojo look at you expectedly as if you're a big drinker. "It better not be no cheap vodka either," Gojo mutters, but you can see the lighthearted smirk on his face. 

"Uh, n-nothing. M'fine, thanks." Then they leave you to warm up in the back of their car no problem, taking the keys with them and locking the doors. You don't dare step out of the car or check your phone to see if your sisters have answered any of your messages.

Your body feels too heavy to care. Exhaustion soon catches up with you and you fall asleep in the back of the car while the boys shop, giving them the advantage to take you wherever they want once they're back inside the car and see you fast asleep.

************

"Y/N? Wake up, baby, we're back." 

When you awaken, you find yourself not in the backseat of Geto's Range, but on the comfortable, soft couch sitting adjacent to two armchairs, a beanbag chair sitting by a flat screen TV and a shelf full of DVDs and books, a pool table, and two pink person-sized lava lamps in two corners of the room.

There is a staircase sitting in front of you where Gojo stands, digging through a cooler, humming to the music blasting from the Alexa Pro sitting in near the flat screen TV with a game console hooked up underneath. He pauses to tap something on his phone sitting upright on a charger near the TV, still humming along in his basketball shorts, having changed his clothes.

Geto is sitting in one of the arm chairs adjacent to you, rolling a blunt for himself. He is just starting out rolling out the papers, a baggie of weed sitting on the glass coffee table along with a red solo cup full of something strong. His violet eyes trail up to meet yours and you can tell he is tipsy by the unfocused look in his irises. "Welcome to the land of the living," he jokes, giving you a crooked smile. 

Slowly, you sit up from your slumber, yawning and warm. You are still in your clothes from tonight, except for your jacket which is hanging on a coat rack by the stairs. "Mmm," you softly moan. "W-Where am I? Is the party still going on?" You look around the room, hearing the sound of laughter and music thumping from upstairs through the floorboards over the music playing from the Alexa Pro. 

Gojo shakes his head as he pulls an ice cold can of beer from the mini cooler sitting by the steps. "Unfortunately, yeah, sorry. These drunk motherfuckers don't leave if they get free booze, so we had to camp out in the basement till everybody files out."

He cracks open the beer and takes a sip, the pink light from the lava lamps glinting against the gold chain hanging from his neck. He's wearing a black tee that hugs his toned upper torso, jeans, and a backwards cap, his party outfit for tonight. 

Geto wears a hoodie with his football logo on it, jeans, and sneakers, only wearing a chain link bracelet and dog tags for jewelry along with his piercings. "Hope that's okay," he adds, giving you a curious look as he opens the ziplock bag of weed. The stench of it, strong and pungent, penetrates the air.

You are still slightly disoriented from your nap, unsure of how long you've been sleep, and how you got here. Did one of them carry you in here? "Uh...sure, I-I guess. Where's my purse?" 

"Over here," Geto announces, flashing you your little black crossbody. He hands it to you from across the room, only smirking when you unzip it to check for your phone, ID, and money. Everything is still there. "Found it on the bed of my car. Glad we saw it there when we carried you inside." Your eyes widen, embarrassment flooding your body in hot waves. "Carried me inside?!" you parrot.

The two frat boys look at each other and crack up, laughing at your expense. "God, she's too cute!" Gojo snickers, coming over to plop down on the other side of the couch with his beer. He rolls the cooler over with him, placing it at your feet. "Relax, cutie, you were just sleepin'! We tried to wake ya, but you were out like a light. You must've had quite the day." He seems so nice, so laidback, so chill. But at the sight of the beer in his hand and knowing what else lies in that cooler, you know you can't stay long.

You dig into your bag for your phone, checking the time. 1:35AM. No calls or texts from your sisters yet. Fucking bitches. "W-Well, thanks for the rest, but I should be getting back now. The girls might worry." You adjust your dress, pulling it down your thighs, and begin to search for your heels, finding them at the staircase. 

But Gojo pulls a face that makes you less reluctant to rush out. "Mmm, no offense, cutie, but I doubt it. If they left ya out here in that lil' number without a ride home, they didn't care that much." 

"He doesn't mean that the way it sounds," Geto offers, sighing at his frat brother's tone, "but still, they could've taken you home or to another place if they wanted to fuck. No shame in that, but shame if they wanna leave their fellow sister behind."

You pause, letting his words of reasoning sink in. He has a good point and you hate that he does. Maybe it's the fact that you're still slightly tipsy from the spiked punch earlier or foggy from the sleep, but you are a little more susceptible to the frat boys' words, making you lower your bag down into your lap. "I guess," you mutter. 

Gojo nods, digging into the cooler again, rummaging around in the ice. "Plus, judgin' by the stats here, traffic doesn't seem to be lettin' up anytime soon." He pulls out a can of strawberry margarita for you made with Triple Sec, flashing you a grin as he tosses it at Geto from across the room. "So ya may be in for a night with us, cutie." Geto catches the margarita with one hand, not even looking up as he sprinkles some bits of weed into a roll of paper with one hand, focused. "O-Oh," you stammer.

You can't stop the stammering of your heart or the way your stomach flips. Stuck with these two frat boys in the early morning hours with weed and alcohol? What could go wrong? Sensing your apprehension, Gojo jumps in to spread sugar around the wound.

"But we're not all bad, we promise. We got plenty of guest rooms and you're welcome to take the couch once everybody files out. You can even pass out again in here." He digs into the cooler again, looking at you expectantly. "You want somethin' to drink? We bought a couple beers, canned margaritas, some little tequila bottles..."

You should ask for some juice or some water, but you know you'll need to take the edge off if you're going to be down here for a while with them. "Uh...just a margarita, thanks."

Gojo passes you a strawberry one, the can cold and wet against your palms. He then takes out a couple mini bottles of Patron and gets up to hand you and Geto some shot glasses from the mini bar sitting behind Geto. There, you see a couple of bottles of alcohol ranging from wine to flavored vodka. "Have a shot with me!" he exclaims, setting the glasses on the coffee table. "C'mooon, I don't wanna drink alone, you two!" 

Geto rolls his eyes and lets Gojo pour him a shot. Despite your better judgment, you let him pour you one too, telling yourself that you'll only take a few sips of your margarita to stay as sober as possible. You've never drank any booze straight before, so you feel your heart stammering at the idea of doing so with two guys you barely know. Gojo raises his shot glass high, grinning. "Cheers to a happy new year. Bottoms up, ya nerds!" You watch the two toss back their shots with ease before you sip yours down your throat. 

The tequila burns like fire is raking your throat but you force yourself to swallow, coughing after its all down. Gojo gives a big belly laugh while Geto tries to stifle his. "Can't handle your tequila, I see. That's cute."

You shoot them a glare, earning more laughter from the two at your cuteness. "I'm not much of a drinker, okay?" you admit. "Wine and mixed drinks are the only thing I can handle." You crack open your margarita and take a small sip to quell the embarrassment of hacking up a lung in front of the frat boys.

Gojo raises a brow and smirks at Geto, already pouring you another shot. "Oh, yeah? Well, we have to change that." 

"Satoru," Geto warns, placing a hand on his wrist. Gojo frowns at him, scowling. "What? C'mon, Suguru, it's a party and it's New Year's Eve! Live a little and take that fuckin' shot!" He pours Geto another shot too, bumping his hip with his. Together, you three take a second shot of Patron, and this time, it goes down a little easier. You feel that warm flush of the booze spreading through you and the intoxicating, fuzzy feeling that comes with it. 

Gojo notices the change and grins like a wolf. "See?" he cackles. "Goes down smooth now, right? It's always after the first shot that it gets much easier." He hums, impressed. "You take it well for someone who doesn't drink much." It must be the tequila working on you, but you actually giggle at his comment before nursing your margarita...as if that's the only thing you'll be drinking tonight. 

Your eyes flit over to Geto, curious and transfixed as you watch his big, veiny hands work. He pinches, rolls, squeezes, and tugs as he fixes himself the perfect blunt, his pierced tongue jutting out to lick across the paper and pinch it closed. He sees you watching him and smirks, making you flush at the fact that you've been caught. "What one? I can share." You lick your dry lips and try to act like you weren't just thinking about his hands on you. "Oh, I don't smoke." 

Geto softly chuckles, once again licking the blunt to keep it secure, his tongue giving you all sorts of throbbing sensations down below. "Unfortunately, we do. That's not a problem, is it?" You quickly shake your head, resembling something of a bobblehead. "No, no, go ahead! This is your crib, after all. M'just...here." Cringing at the awkward energy you're radiating, you take a long sip of your margarita, letting the taste of juicy strawberry and strong tequila take over your senses. Bad idea.

"As a guest," Gojo adds with a crooked grin. Geto nods in agreement, getting a lighter from his pocket. He flicks it once, twice, three times before a flame ignites from the little spout. "But if ya ever want a puff, just let us know so we can pass it to you." 

"O-Oh, I really shouldn't—" 

"Yes, you should!" Gojo exclaims, rolling his blue eyes at you. "It's a party and you need to celebrate the new year. C'mon, cutie, party with us!" He then passes you another shot and clinks your glasses together before downing his in one single swipe, the clear droplet trickling down his throat in such a salacious way. 

And what do you do? You take the shot and suddenly, you're feeling dizzy. Light on your feat. Your vision is slightly blurry and the world feels off kilter yet sparkly and new. You want to do everything and try everything, including the blunt that Geto is smoking between his lush lips. He sees you eyeing it and smirks, holding it out to you between his fingers. "Want a puff now?" he murmurs. "Here, just look at me, I'll teach you." He suddenly rises from the chair and comes over to sit on the couch with you, making your heart jump into your throat. "But ya gotta come a little closer."

As he gives you a humored smile that makes your insides flutter, Gojo rises from his seat to saunter over to his phone plugged up by the TV, flitting through other songs to find the perfect one. "S-Sure," you stammer, watching Geto's hand.

He nods, pleased, and puts one finger up to gain your attention. "Watch carefully now." You watch intently as he places the blunt between his pink lips, puffing on it in slow motion. He then forms an O with his mouth and blows smoke rings between his lips, the scent of marijuana thick in the air. "Now you try." 

He hands the blunt to you, instructing you on how to hold it, and slowly, you place it between your lips. He watches you and so does Gojo, the two of them silently eyeing you up as you take one tiny puff of the blunt. As soon as the smoke hits your lungs, you begin coughing, your eyes tearing.

Gojo snorts, trying in vain to hide it. "Aye, don't laugh," Geto criticizes his friend, but even he is wearing a humored smirk that he tries to tamper down. "Try again. Slowly now, baby, don't rush it." 

You try to ignore the way your body grows hot at the pet name he uses on you as you try again, knowing damn well that you shouldn't. But it's as if you are attracted to everything you shouldn't do or say tonight. The second time to hit the blunt, it is easier and you take a slow drag before exhaling it all out, letting the smoke hit you dead on. Geto grins as he watches you physically relax into the couch. "Easy now, right?" he chuckles. You nod, feeling slightly lighter now. "What's it do?" you curiously ask.

Geto takes a hit of the blunt with ease, smoke billowing from his nostrils. "Just relaxes ya. Makes everythin' nice and slow, but you get mad hungry too, so we've got snacks." You can barely understand the man—he sounds so far away, the alcohol and the two puffs of weed affecting you more than you realized. Combined with the marijuana smoke giving you a contact high, you become an absolute mess after a couple of minutes of hanging in the basement with the two frat boys. 

As you sink back into the couch, your eyes flutter closed, your head growing dizzy and swimming from the smoke. You hear Gojo's chuckle, silky and teasing. "Uh-oh, someone's feelin' those shots," he jokes. "Daaamn, we need to invite you to the next party we throw. You're real fun when you've got some liquor in you, smart girl." You hum to yourself and hear yourself murmur out a small "thanks". 

When you open your eyes, Gojo is looking at you with that crooked smile and irresistibly blue eyes. Why are they so goddamn pretty? And when did he come back to sit on the couch? You realize too late that you're sitting between the two frat boys now, your legs glued tight together and your arms crossed over your chest to give you some type of security.

"We love fun girls," he says in a voice that is way too sultry to just be simple booze talk. "They're better to chill with. You're the right kinda fun, right, Suguru?" He shoots Geto a grin to which he barely returns, but you notice that he is staring you down through the smoke as he puffs on his blunt before passing it to Gojo.

The snow-haired frat member takes a long drag of the blunt, smoke billowing in clouds from between his pink lips. "You okay with bein' squeezed between us, smart girl?" he teases, raising a brow at you. "Promise this won't turn into a casting couch situation." Geto shoots him a death stare, sipping on his own beer now. "Shut the fuck up, Satoru." 

Gojo just laughs, waving off his friend's warning. "Come oooon, she knows I'm just fuckin' around, right, cutie? You know we'd never ever treat you like that, right?" You feel tongue tied suddenly, your mouth full of cotton. "Uh..." You don't quite answer, unsure of how to. Where is this going? Suddenly, as if the question is answered for you, that damn viral mashup between Ciara's "Body Party" and Ariana Grande's "Nasty" begins to play from the speakers, suddenly giving the room a sensual feel. 

"I-I need some air," you pant, standing on wobbly feet. You have to grab the back of the couch to keep steady, wincing at the dizziness you feel. Geto gives you a hand, placing a hand on your arm to steady you. "You ain't gonna find it up there, mamas. Too many people; you'll get overstimulated mad quick." But you don't listen, trying in vain to make it to the steps but you're too unsteady. Too drunk. Too high.

"Hey, hey," Gojo soothingly says. You feel his gentle hands on your waist forcing you to sit back down between himself and Geto. "S'okay, sweetie, relax. We don't bite...not very hard." He gives you another dazzling, disarming smile before reaching beside him for a cup with red contents in it. "Here, drink this. It's just some punch, but it ain't spiked." 

You take the cup and smell it, not detecting any aroma of alcohol. When you drink it, you don't taste any alcohol in it whatsoever, so you sip down the rest of the cold liquid, feeling cooled down from the heat of the basement and being stuck between the two big, hunky frat boys. 

Bad idea. A very, very bad, horrible, fucking stupid idea.

You should've went upstairs anyway, regardless of whether or not you could walk. You should've crawled your way up out of the basement and called an Uber. You shouldn't have ever drank that punch either. Though there was no alcohol in it, as far as you know since Gojo told you, you feel drunker than you were initially. your head is spinning and you feel heavy like your bones are sinking. You are laid back on the couch, eyes closed and the world spinning as the music continues to swirl around you, mixing with the thick wedd smoke hanging in the air. 

"Babyyyy," Gojo coos. He sounds like he's underwater, his voice gargle and muffled to your own ears even though he's sitting right beside you. "Ya good? Where's that head at, hm?"

You feel his hand on your knee, his calloused palm feeling so good on your hot, creamy skin. You should push it away, but you find that you can't. "M'okay," you murmur. Then again, giggling, "M'okay, m'...your hand's nice there." Your words are slurred together, messed up from the alcohol you stupidly consumed. 

"Yeah?" he asks, a sexy, teasing lilt in his tone. "You want my hand somewhere else? You're just so hot all over, gorgeous."

You feel his hand crawl up, up, up to your thigh, squeezing it. You open your eyes just in time to see Geto scooting closer, his eyes slightly hooded and red from the weed. His big, tatted hands move to massage your shoulders before gliding down your arms, sending goosebumps in his wake. "Mmm, wait," you mumble, trying in vain to shove them away. "W-We shouldn't—" 

"Shhh," Gojo shushes you and presses a soft kiss to your cheek that makes you shiver. "Just relax. You've really got it goin' on, cutie, y'know that? Glasses and all."

He grins at your glasses, slightly fogged from the heat radiating all around you, and slowly takes them off, placing them on the coffee table with the shot glasses and booze you've consumed.

Actually, how long has it been? What time is it? You try to get a grasp on reality, but Gojo's soft, pink lips being so close to yours makes it so hard. "You want a kiss, babe?" he purrs, his hand suddenly on your chin. "You ever have a NYE kiss before?" Slowly, you shake your head, unable to speak. 

His expression is confused, his eyebrows knitting quizzically. "Never? Well, that's a damn shame. Lemme change that for you." He tilts your chin down slightly and suddenly, his lips are locked against yours. Your eyes widen and your body freezes, your fight or flight kicking it when you realize what's happening...yet your muscles feel too heavy and tired to push him off. Plus, unfortunately, Gojo is a very good kisser. His lips are soft, supple, and spiked with tequila, making you drunk off of him. 

Slowly, he pulls away with a soft smack of his lips, humming in pleasure. "Mmm, nice," he hums. "Come on, let's finish this shot together."

He then takes a half-poured shot of tequila, pours the rest of it into his mouth, and holds it in his mouth before moving back to press his lips to yours. You have no choice but to let him empty the tequila into your mouth, forcing you to drink it. You choke slightly, unprepared, but you manage not to spit anything up. You can't protest to it either because he's shoving his tongue in your mouth, swallowing your words, moaning as he swirls his eager tongue with your unwilling one. 

Beep. 

You startle at the sound, pulling away from Gojo to look around the room. "What was that?" you softly ask, alarmed by the sudden interruption. But Gojo firmly whips your head back around to face his lustful eyes. "Nothin', baby, probably somethin' upstairs. Just focus on me." Then he's right back to sloppily kissing you, laying one hand on your hip while the other caresses your cheek, taking his sweet time getting to know your body. You whimper against his lips, grasping his biceps which only causes your lower core to throb in excitement at him under your fingers.

No, you can't be turned on at a time like this! So what if he has nice arms? You're drunk! He didn't even ask to kiss you first! 

But even so, even when you know that all of this is so wrong and so fucked up, you can't stop yourself from becoming sticky from his soft lips and sloppy kiss. 

"Enough, 'Tarou. M'here too, y'know." You sigh in relief at Geto's silky voice filling your ears, thinking that he will come to your rescue. But when he practically snatches you away from Gojo and you see the lust darkening his hooded, violet eyes, you know that this is not going to end the way you want it to. He has his blunt again, puffing on it as his eyes lazily drag over your form. "Want a shotgun me, mamas?" he murmurs, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile. "C'mere, I'll show you how. Just open your mouth f'me." 

Dumbly, you pry open your trembling lips and watch as Geto sucks on his blunt as he inhales the smoke before laying the blunt on an ashtray on the coffee table, discarded. He then leans over to you and puckers his lips, blowing the smoke into your mouth. You let out a choked moan as the smoke, hot, pungent, and thick, giving you a high as soon as it smacks you in the face.

You can't focus on it for too long though because Geto is gripping the back of your neck and pulling you in for a hot, slow kiss that makes your nipples hard beneath your dress and your body act on its own. You can't stop from touching on his arms and chest, feeling him up, and he responds by lacing his arms around your waist. "Mmm, fuck, you taste good," he groans. "Like tequila. Do I taste good too?"

He places his hand under your chin, his thumb pad playing with your bottom lip. You stare up at him, dazed and dizzy from the toxins of the weed, the intense effects of the alcohol, and your arousal. "Y-Yeah," you softly slur. "Both of you." Your horniness speaks for you, taking over your body like a demon. 

"Aww, ain't you sweet," Gojo coos from behind you, his big hands wrapping around your tits from behind. He squeezes them, making you moan as Geto kisses your jawline, sending chills down your spin. "Wonder how the rest of you tastes." Geto goes back to kissing you, his hand gripping your chin, your lips dancing together in a sloppy, heated tango that draws moans and whimpers out of you that have long since been locked away.

"Such a pretty mouth," Gojo groans. "Wanna feel my cock in it so bad." Suddenly, he is ripping the straps to your dress down, exposing your naked shoulders to him. "Such a pretty rack too. Let's get this shit offa you so we can see that body you're rockin'." 

"W-W-" You can't even get the one word out, your words jumbled together, stumbling over one another. You can only whimper as Gojo unzips your dress and pulls it down to your waist, exposing your full, soft, juicy tits and embarrassingly rock-hard nipples to the two frat boys.

"Goddamn!" Gojo hisses right at the same time Geto lets out a breathy "Shit" at the sight of your pretty tits on full display for them. "No bra?" Gojo chuckles, his blue eyes dripping with lust. "Such a naughty little slut, ain'tcha?" 

Your body grows hot at the degrading word. Is that what you are? Is that what they think you are? No...no, that can't be. "I-I'm not a—" 

But you are silenced by Gojo's hand roughly gripping your chin, squeezing your cheeks so your lips squish together, resembling a fish's. Like a switch flipping on inside of him, he has gone from teasing and seemingly sweet to condescending and rough, dropping the act to reveal his true intentions now that you are caught without his and Geto's trap. "Save it, cutie. We don't like liars, 'specifically lyin' little sluts. She got any panties on, Sugu?" 

You whimper in protest as you feel Geto toy with the hem of your dress, hiking it up over your thighs to expose your freshly-shaven bikini line. "Yeah," he answers, sounding slightly disappointed, "but she's wet as fuck. Looky here." You feel his two thick fingers press into your panties and slide up, up, up your slit, collecting a bunch of wetness that has soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear. Gojo laughs in delight as Geto shows him his digits dripping in your juices, much to your dismay. 

"Goddamn, babe!" he chuckles. "You're so fuckin' sloppy down here! Look at you drippin' all over the couch, dirty girl." You can feel it, your inner thighs becoming wet and sticky from your ever-oozing pussy. What is wrong with you? Is it the tequila and the weed making you this aroused? You can't possibly be this horny for these two fuck boys who don't ask for permission first and just take, take, take. Suddenly, Gojo gets up and forces you to lay back onto the couch, making you squeak in surprise. "Lie back on the couch, nasty girl. We wanna make ya feel reeeal good." 

The song shifts to something else—a Pop Smoke song about his girl not wearing any panties and tasting like candy—as the two frat boys situate themselves in front of you and move a few cushions on the couch to turn it into a futon. You watch in awe as the two shed their shirts, exposing their toned, muscular bodies to you, so much bigger than your own. Their arms are as big as your head, somehow matching the third arms you can see swinging beneath their pants, hard and pulsing. Suddenly, your thighs are split wide by Gojo's hands, his blue eyes a darker, stormier shade from lust.

"Betcha she's been dreamin' of this," he teases. "Havin' two hunky frat boys she barely knows fuck her stupid. Look at this slutty pussy gushin' for us, Su." 

He takes his hand and moves your panties side, exposing your glistening, puffy pussy lips stuck together from your arousal to them, halfway pried open to expose your little hole. The two men groan at the sight of you as Gojo begins to gently stroke your pussy as you lay there, your dress hiked up and tits out for them to ogle at. "Ngh, no," you protest through a whimper. "T-That's not—" 

But your words are cut off by Geto who leans down towards you, cupping your cheek. Wisps of his black hair fall down from his shoulders, tickling your cheeks. "Open your mouth again. I want another taste of you, mamas."

Before you can even do as he orders, he is swooping down to sloppily kiss you, forcing your tongue to swirl with his and sucking on it. As he sloppily kisses you, you suddenly feel Gojo pour a bottle of cold tequila onto your stomach, making you flinch from the sensations. "Bodyshots, cutie," he chuckles. "This might tickle, but hold still f'me." 

As the music vibrates around you and bounces against the walls in the thick, heady air smelling of sex and weed, making your head throb more, Gojo slithers his tongue into your belly button and licks your tummy as he slurps up the tequila in time with Geto sucking on your tongue, moaning as he does. Gojo lifts his head to stare at you, looking so supremely blissed out from licking up your stomach. 

Then he pours some onto your tits, allowing for him and Geto to lick and suckle on your breasts to catch the droplets of booze before they drip onto their couch. You groan at the feeling of their teeth grazing your hard nipples, pain mingling with pleasure, making for one intoxicating cocktail of confusing sensations. "Oh, fuck," you exhale. "Mmm, oh, w-wait a sec, boys. You can't—" 

"Keep those fuckin' legs open," Gojo grunts, forcing your legs back open with his hand. You didn't realize you had tried to close them. "We wanna see you. You can't hide from this, cutie, so why fight it?" He takes another nibble at the hard peak of your nipple, this one a lot sharper, and it makes you hiss from the sharp edge of his teeth nearly breaking your skin. 

The boys continue to work on your tits, sloppily sucking, slurping, and suckling, greedy moans and groans leaving their mouths. As they do, you feel their hands caress your legs and thighs, squeezing and groping as your pussy continues to secrete more embarrassing wetness onto the couch. You need to get a hold on this. You need to try to control the situation. "Boys, hang on," you protest. "M-My panties—" 

Rrrrrrip! 

You squeal as your panties are suddenly ripped off of you in an instant, nothing but ripped lace now. "Oops," Geto says, smirking at you while Gojo laughs against your tits. "Got too excited. These are Savage X Fenty, right? I'll slip you some money for more."

He hands them over to Gojo who ogles at them as if they are a special present. "Ooooh, these are some slutty ass panties, baby. You were lookin' to get fucked tonight." He gives you a lustful grin as he pockets them, sliding them into the pocket of his jeans. Will you ever get those back, you wonder? 

"No, I wasn't!" you argue, flushing with anger and humiliation at his words. "I-I don't—" 

SMACK! 

You gasp and lurch as Gojo sharply smacks your pussy with his palm, the assault somehow making your clit throb. "Liar," he growls. "You act like you're not a slut, but you are. Why else would this poor girl be talkin' to us like this?"

He stares down at your pussy now, cooing at how soaked, puffy, and swollen it is while you shake with embarrassment and a bit of fear. He gently strokes your pussy lips, earning a little twitch in response to his fingers touching your most vulnerable place. "She's so touch-starved, poor thing. Lemme talk back to her."

And then you feel the cold liquid of tequila pouring onto your pussy lips. You gasp, your thighs twitching to instinctively close, but you can't when Gojo is suddenly planting his head between your legs, using his hands to pin them open wide so you can't escape or move. Then his tongue is on you, licking, swirling, and dipping through your wet folds, the cold metal to his piercing sliding along the hot inner folds of your pussy. You gasp, your eyes bugging and your mouth falling agape at the pleasurable, electric sensations you're feeling from his greedy tongue and lips swallow you whole. 

Gojo is a fast, eager eater. His tongue wickedly slithers through your folds as if to discover the crowned jewel of your pussy and sucks on your clit with every intention of making you cum. Your juices flow freely down his chin and throat, making him very messy and coating your asscrack in your honey. You moan, whimper, and croon above him, your hands grasping his white locks for leverage.

"A-Ah, fuck!" you yelp. "W-Wait, 'Tarou...oh, fuck! Shit, hang on!" Gojo grumbles with irritation into your cunt, shooting a glance at Geto from beside him. "Shut her the fuck up. We don't need her bein' this loud just yet." 

Quickly, Geto rises from his spot and barks for Alexa to turn up the volume on the music before he appears beside you. He kneels onto the couch by your face just as the music is kicked up a notch, making your eardrums vibrate from the sheer volume of it bumping through the basement walls. Suddenly, you hear the obvious metal clink of a belt and the zzzzip of a zipper coming down, making your stomach drop into a pit.

You know what's coming even before you see Geto's cock in your face. He is so thick and girthy, veins protruding from his shaft, trailing down to his heavy balls prickled with fine, black hair. The rest of him is shaven clean, leaving his perfect V-line and stomach free of any hair. His head is a tanner shade than the rest of him, the contrast somehow making your pussy gush. "Sorry, mamas, but I had to plug this mouth up."

Without warning, he wraps a hand around his heavy dick and smacks it once, twice, three times against your glossy lips. Plap-plap-plap. "Plus...oooh, shit, your mouth was too pretty to resist."

Then he's forcing your lips open with his head and sliding into your wet mouth, much to your dismay and protest, moaning and grunting around his cock as he settles against your tongue. Gojo watches with interest from his kneeling position between your thighs, pausing in his aggressive pussy-eating session to watch his frat brother fuck your mouth. "Wow, that's quite a throat, baby. Such a sweet mouth on you, shit." 

He turns back to your pussy, transfixed, addicted to it. "Such a sweet pussy too," he growls before he goes right back to sucking on your clit. You gasp around Geto's thick cock as you feel Gojo's soft lips greedily suck on your needy clit, sending tendrils and shocks of pleasure through your body that make your back arch and your pussy ooze. Geto stares down at his frat brother, his eyes lust blown and face flush from the pleasure. 

"Don't be greedy, Satoru," he grunts. "Share." And in the blink of an eye, Gojo is grabbing the back of Geto's neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. 

You stare at them in awe and shock as they greedily, hungrily makeout in front of you, sharing your wetness among each other. So the rumors were true: they are dating. Or maybe just fucking. Either way, you're getting a front row seat as the two moan into each other's mouths, their pierced tongues swirling against one another, sharing your juices and their spit.

Gojo peels his blue eyes open, chuckling as he pulls away from Geto. "Oooh, look at that little whore! Gettin' hot over seein' two hot guys kissin'?" He tuts, shaking his head. "Nasty little thing, but you've got such a nice mouth for my boy." 

Geto continues to fuck your mouth, forcing his way in deeper and deeper, making your mouth accommodate to his thick size. "Fuck," he groans through gritted, white teeth, his inked, sweat-slick muscles tensing and flexing. "Take me deeper, mama, c'mon. Don't slack now." 

A wet gargle escapes you as your throat is forced to take him in, forcing you to quickly try to save yourself from throwing up by opening your throat as if you're about to yawn. Geto groans in pleasure as he begins to deeply fuck your sloppy, tight throat as if it is a fleshlight in time with the pulsing bass of the song blasting from the speakers. He fucks your mouth in a way where he doesn't care if anyone comes downstairs to see him, too indulged in the pleasure of pounding your throat. 

He then turns to Gojo who is still greedily eating your pussy, his tongue dipping in and out of your hole. "Hey, Satoru, wanna switch? You should feel how deep her throat is." As soon as his dick is out of your throat, Gojo takes his spot, untying his basketball shorts and yanking them down with the quickness of a trained basketball player. 

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat the monster he is packing under his shorts. He is quite long, longer than Geto, his cock slapping against his lower stomach, his pink, flushed cock head just reaching past his belly button. And it is, in fact, pierced. You can see the little silver hoop dangling from his cock head as he begins to stroke his veiny cock, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

Geto pours some tequila on Gojo's shaft, grinning as he does, before Gojo slips his cock into your mouth, forcing you to taste the Patron and the pre-cum dripping from his head. He groans, sliding deeper, deeper, deeper, until he bottoms out in your throat, allowing him to give you rough, hard thrusts that hurt your jaw. "God-fuckin'-damn!" he grunts, his face sweaty and flushed. "Sugu was right; your mouth is everything, baby girl. Keep suckin' juuust like that." 

Then it's Geto's turn to eat you out. He tosses your legs over his broad shoulders, his back muscles flexing, making his tattoos move and dance, as he eats you out while his frat brother fucks your mouth. You moan at the feeling of his piercing tickling your inner folds before dipping into your hole, his nose brushing against your clit. 

"Yeah, you like that tongue piercin', you sexy bitch?" Gojo cackles, grinning down at you. Slutty, free-use little you. "Don't slack now. I wanna fuck your pretty face a bit. You don't mind, do ya?" 

"Mmm-phh!" you grunt around his dick, your eyes ticking up to his. All you see is lust and a fevered, feral want that makes you realize that there is no stopping him. "I'll take that as a no," he chuckles before his voice drips into pornographic moans mixed with the sweet sounds of his cock fucking your sloppy throat. He fucks it like it's his brand new toy that he's trying to break in, sucking suction sounds and wet sloshes of his slick cock brushing against the walls of your throat filling the air. "That's so good, babe, shit," he slurs. "Where the fuck have ya been all my life, hm?" 

"Stickin' that nose in her books," Geto jokes, picking his head up to grin at him. The two laugh at your expense even as you lay there, being used in both holes. "Just kiddin', mamas. You're a cute lil' thing just the way you are." He presses a kiss to your clit before diving back in to eat you out, greedily moaning as you grip the long, black locks of your hair. 

Gojo watches with enjoyment as your back arches, Geto's sweet words embarrassingly arousing you more. Who knew you were such a little praise slut? "Oooh, I think she's gonna cum," Gojo teases, grinning down at you, his dimples popping. "C'mon, ya little praise slut, cum on my man's tongue. Give him that fuckin' pussy."

He reaches an arm out to Geto, pushing his head deeper into your pussy so his tongue sinks in deeper, his piercing brushing every tingling, hot, wet part of you that makes you scream around the thick dick in your throat. "Make her cum so I can fuck that sloppy cunt later, Su. C'mon, make her gush." 

Geto groans into your hole, the vibrations making you shake and quiver. Your eyes roll back into your head as you feel that knot in your core tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, it snaps and you let out a low groan of pleasure as you soar through the clouds. "M'cumming!" you slur around Gojo's dick. He hums in agreement, watching you greedily as your tits jiggle and your throat flexes around his cock, slowing his thrusts to watch you cream all over Geto's tongue. 

Gargled moans and whimpers leave your mouth, spit dripping from the corners of your lips down your chin, as you cum all over Geto's mouth. He greedily slurps you up, cleaning every nook and cranny of your pretty pussy to his enjoyment. "Thaaaaat's a good girl," Gojo praises, gently patting your cheek, mostly to keep you grounded so you don't pass the fuck out. "So proud of you! Scoot over, Sugu; share some of that cream with me." 

He pulls out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe and hiccup, while he joins Geto on the floor. Together, they begin to clean you up in unison, tongues bating your sensitive pussy in their saliva, kissing in between licks. It is all too much, making you feel like you're about to explode. It's agonizing pleasure, almost painful. "Ha...ha, fuck," you pant. "I-I can't...oh, fuck, stop! It's too much, ah!" 

Gojo chuckles at your pain, his cock surging at the sight of you so needy, desperate, and slutty before him and his boyfriend. "You've got the sweetest moans, cutie. Can't wait to hear 'em while I'm balls deep in you." 

His words tear at your blissed-out state and you're suddenly back in cold, hard reality again. You missed his words earlier—something about Geto making you slick enough to fuck later—because you were too busy cumming. But now, you hear it without a doubt. And without a doubt, he wants to fuck you. 

"W-What?" you gasp. You wiggle out of Geto's grasp and close your legs just as Gojo rises to his feet, his cock stiff and standing at attention for you. "Wait, Satoru, you can't!" You push at him with your feet, your painted toes vibrant against his pale skin and abs. He scowls at you, confused. "Why not? You never done this before or somethin'?"

You flush, embarrassment flooding you, and you look away from his gaze, not wanting to see the pity or humor in them. Realizing what your silence means, Gojo lets out a choking sound as if he just swallowed the wrong way. "Wait, seriously?!" he gasps. "You're a virgin? Damn, so we're the first dicks you've ever caught!" 

You whimper, humiliated by your secret being exposed. Many of your sorority sisters know that you have never had intercourse before and pushed you to come out tonight to finally "catch a dick". You've received plenty of "sisterly" pep talks and criticisms about waiting for sex. You've heard your sisters giggle behind closed doors about the fact that you've never slept with anyone before, often isolating you and making you feel like an unsexy loser who can't get anyone in her bed. 

No one has never looked at you in that way before, let alone a guy. Plus, you've never been very interested in pursing any guy on campus sexually. But that doesn't mean you hadn't wanted it or dreamed of it or imagined yourself getting fucked into the bed while you stuff your pussy with your fingers or use your rose on your clit. 

You expect the frat boys to laugh. To joke. To poke fun at your inexperience at the expense of you and humiliate you even further. But to your surprise, you're met with tenderness. Geto gently cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to your lips. "Ain't no shame in it, mamas. We'll just be gentle with you. Promise." He gives you a smile that makes you feel like the most beautiful, sexy, treasured thing in the world.

Even with your makeup that your sorority sister worked on ruined, your gloss smeared and mascara dripping down your cheeks. Gojo wipes away a black streak of it now, gently dabbing away some spit from your cheeks. "Yeah, we promise. But we need some rubbers though." 

He grins, moving to pick up his shorts and digging into his pocket for two condom wrappers. "Good thing I got someriiiight heeeere!" he sings, dangling the two golden packs at you. He gives you a wolfish grin, yanking your thighs up high so your legs stick in the air and giving your ass a smack "You're in for it tonight, cutie pie. We've gotta get that pussy nice an' open though." 

That leads to you getting placed on all fours with your ass hiked up and the boys' dicks in your mouth while Gojo fingers your pussy. He pumps his long, thick digits in and out of your sloppy, glistening pussy, ogling at the way you seem to suck him in in both of your holes. You can barely make out the difference in his and Geto's dicks anymore, the both of them pushing in while one pulls out, forcing you to suck and throat them. 

"O-Oh, fuck!" you stammer around Gojo's—or Geto's?—cock in your mouth, spit dripping from your mouth, making you quite messy and sticky. "Please, 'Tarou, more!" Your tits jiggle and bounce in time with the boys' thrusts into your mouth, their hands grappling and groping your tits and ass exposed from under your hiked-up dress. "More?" Gojo chuckles. "Damn, babe, you're just suckin' me in." 

He curls his fingers up inside of you as Geto pushes in deeper, pumping himself in your throat, grunting and groaning as he does. "That dick is makin' that pussy cry, isn't it?" he grunts, his silky voice rasped with pleasure. You gargle in response, gagging around his cock as Gojo smacks his against your cheek. "Both of these dicks," he groans. "Such a big girl takin' us both. So proud of you, baby, fuck!" 

His long, black locks of hair fall into his face as he pumps himself in your throat for a few times before Gojo switches with him, moaning as he sinks into your slobbering mouth. Geto licks his digits and begins to rub at your clit, earning a keening moan from your mouth as you get closer to a second orgasm, your eyes rolling back.

"C'mon, we can tell you're close, cutie pie," Gojo pants. "Just give us one more. Make that pussy gush for us." Just a few more pumps of his fingers inside of you, stretching you open, and a few more frantic rubs of Geto's digits on your clit, and soon, like a switch being flipped on inside of you, you cum again. 

Your eyes roll back so far that you're afraid they'll get stuck there as your body shudders, your hips stuttering and grinding back into Gojo's fingers as your pussy tightens around him. He groans as you clench around his digits, sucking him in deeper as he draws your cream out of you, whispering a cooing mantra of "yes, yes, baby, yes" as you moan enticingly around the dick in your mouth. 

After your orgasm fades, you are left feeling heavy and numb, your head empty. Gojo slowly pulls his fingers out and sucks on them, letting Geto get a taste too by sucking on his digits."Good girl!" Gojo coos to you, giving you a squeeze on your ass. "You're fuckin' magical, baby!" He laughs in disbelief as if not truly believing that they managed to bag a little cumslut like you tonight. 

As you sit there, recovering, the two of them slide the condoms on their dicks, the damn rubber things straining against their thick shafts. Geto takes a look at your gushing, open pussy and hums in satisfaction, jerking his hard cock to keep himself stimulated. "I think she's ready now...but who fucks first?" He stares at Gojo expectantly, raising a brow. Gojo grins, shrugging at him. "Rock, paper, scissors?" he suggests. 

To your shock (and a bit of amusement), the two frat boys go to work playing a round of the game, murmuring, "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot" as they pump their fists up and down between each other. They open their hands, Geto shooting scissors while Gojo goes for rock. 

"Ha, ha, bitch!" Gojo cackles, slamming his fist down on Geto's scissor hands. "Get down there and suck these balls." And to your shock, Geto kneels down behind Gojo as the snow-haired frat boy widens his legs for him. His attention is on you now, helping you roll back onto your back. He hikes your legs up over his hips as he groans as Geto's tongue hits his balls, the sound of his soft sucking drifting through the air. "Nice an' slow, baby, okay?" he coos. "Nice an' slow." 

He slides and slaps his cock against your pussy lips, the hot sensation of his heavy shaft against your hole making you flinch. "Look at me," he whispers. You do so, falling into the ocean blue of his eyes as his cock head presses against the threshold of your pussy hole. And then he pushes. 

You gasp, feeling yourself stretch despite only getting his head. You feel grateful for the two orgasms he and Geto gave you, helping your walls relax, but that stretch is still palpable and sharp. You grunt, your core tensing and your pelvic muscles clenching in disagreement. "Uh-uh, relax, baby," Gojo softly says, pushing you down onto the couch when your hips begin to rise in protest. "C'mon, relax that pussy f'me. You're okay, I've gotchu." 

He waits a moment and then pushes in deeper, taking it inch by inch. He grits his teeth, grunts leaving his lips as he slides in, stretching you open for the first time. "God, you're fuckin' tight!" he spits. "Gonna make me lose my mind over this pussy." 

"Fuck!" you gasp, your nails digging into his biceps as he pushes in deeper, filling you up. "Satoru, wait!" But you can't speak long because his cock is suddenly bottoming out inside of you. The sound that leaves you is loud and broken, your vocal cords shot to hell, as Gojo begins to slowly rock his hips into your pussy. "Shit!" he hisses. "God, you're so fuckin' tight! This pussy is too good!" 

You can't speak, your mouth dry, your brain too fried and empty to tell your mouth to speak. Nothing is connecting. Nothing is clicking. You feel and think and sense nothing but the sensations that Gojo is giving you. There is a pain, yes, but it is masked by the rubbing of Gojo's fingers on your clit and his cock massaging your insides. His pornographic moans only make you wetter, making your pussy open and slick enough to fuck.

"Ah, k-keep suckin', Sugu," he groans. "Lick her pussy too. I'm gonna fuck her so good that she'll give you some cum too." 

You then feel Geto's greedy, pierced tongue licking your pussy from below as Gojo fucks you a little more, pressing his hips fully against your ass. He yanks you closer by your ankles, gripping your hips and the fleshy part of your ass for dear life as he pistons in and out, in and out, pumping his cock inside of you. "Look at me, baby," he pants. "Watch me fuck that slutty little pussy." He groans, grinning at you as you clench around him. "Oh, you like that talk, slut? Like it when I degrade your fine ass, huh?" 

Now you're feeling it—the intoxicating, addicting, searing pleasure that sex brings. How you longed to feel this. How you ached for this. You can't help but come undone, vulnerable and slutty, your voice bouncing off of the basement walls and ceiling. "O-Oh, oh, fuck, Satoru!" you whine. "Oh, s-shit, yes!" 

You begin to bounce against his cock, your tits enticingly jiggle in Gojo's face, your hole dripping and soaking the couch and Geto's tongue. "Feels so fuckin' good, babe," Gojo moans, staring down at you through blue slits of his eyes. "Gonna make me cum. Make me blow my fuckin' load for you."

He ruts into you faster, harder, using your body to pump his cock into over and over again. Suddenly, his hand shoots out to wrap around your neck, making your lush lips open into a shocked O as he fucks you while choking you. "Look at me," he growls, squeezing your throat. "Cum for me again. Rub that pussy and cum all over this dick, baby, fuck!" 

He practically spits the last word, losing the last thread of control he has. You do as he says, unable to control yourself. The pleasure is too good, making your body act on its own. You begin to frantically rub your wet little clit as Gojo fucks you into the couch, rutting into you, his firm, plump ass from years of squats and training in the gym pumping in and out as he strokes his cock with your wet pussy. 

Soon, combined with his cock and Geto's mouth from down below, you feel your third orgasm rip through you. It is tense and rough like a wildfire spreading through a forest, making you brokenly moan as your pussy clenches around Gojo's long dick kissing your G-spot. He gives a few more sloppy, rough thrusts, panting like a feral animal, until his moans of release explode out of him. "Ah, fuck yes!" he groans, loud and pornographic, as he blows his load deep in your pussy.

Well, deep in the condom in your pussy, but you can still feel him pulsing inside of you. You gasp as he presses his body to yours, slamming his mouth against yours to force you into a sloppy kiss with plenty of tongue and spit. With a little whimper, he pulls away and slows his thrusts to slow, sloppy rocks of his hips. "S-Stop suckin', Suguru, damn," he hisses. "I already came." 

Geto chuckles, rising to his feet to wipe his mouth of your and Gojo's cum. "Sorry, babe; you just taste so good with her cum." He turns to you, ignoring the fact that you're completely winded, panting heavily. "Now's my turn," he softly growls. "Make that mouth useful." He shoots a dark, lustful look at Gojo who grins as he pulls out of you, his cock slick with your cum. "Yes, Daddy." 

Your eyes widen as Geto slides between your thighs, grasping your ankles. His turn? Oh, God. He can't mean that...oh, no! 

Sensing your apprehension, Geto presses a finger to your lips, shushing your unsaid protests. "S'okay, baby," he coos. He takes his cock and presses it against your little hole gushing cum, "I'll be gentle with you. Need to make sure you don't stain the couch." 

Then, without a warning, his slides himself home inside of you. You gasp as your pussy quivers in protest, your walls clenching. He is just as big as Gojo if not bigger! How the fuck did you take him in your mouth? Your jaw aches from the constant stimulation, a reminder of what you've endured from his monster dick."S-Suguru," you stammer, sinking your nails into his biceps. "Oh, fuck, h-hang on! I don't think I can!"

But Geto shakes his head, groaning as Gojo begins sucking on his balls, the sounds of his greedy, wet sucks filling the air. "Oh, yes, you can. It'd be...oh, fuck yes...rude not to take my cock too. You gotta treat your hosts good, mama, fuuuuck." 

He is groaning and grunting as he begins to pump himself in and out, sloooowly dragging his cock against your walls. He watches in awe as your pussy lips part for him even as your hole aches and quivers from being stimulated and used too much. "Suck her clit, Tarou," he slurs out. "Get up here and get that mouth on her. I wanna fuck her deep." 

Gojo is popping up immediately and leans over to suck your clit as Geto begins to pound your pussy, using his full weight on you. He is rough and guttural, fucking like a football player would, your legs locked around his head. "O-Oh, my God!" you scream, digging your nails into Geto's biceps as he pounds your pussy. "Fuck, ah, Sugu, fuck! Y-You're so...oh, s-so...!" 

You can hardly speak, the dick inside of you and Gojo's wicked, skilled tongue making you see stars, your mind a blank canvas. You are nothing but a bouncing fuck bunny now. A toy. A free-use slut for these frat boys' amusement. 

"So big?" Gojo suggests, grinning at you. "So hard? So fuckin' good fillin' that pussy up?" You deliriously nod, sobbing from the immense, intense pleasure. You feel tears burn at your eye sockets, threatening to fall. Gojo coos at your slutty expression, wiping at a tear that falls down your cheek. "Aww, baby, s'okay. You'll get more dick like this from us any day you want." 

Geto nods above you, his handsome face flushed red, his hair falling into his face. He quickly whips it away, resembling something of a rockstar on stage, as he takes you to Pound Town with a personal ticket and a bumpy ride. "Yeah," he grunts. "Yeah, you're ours now, sugar. You're just too fuckin' cute." 

He grabs at your titties, massaging one while Gojo massages the other, molding it roughly in his palm. The rougher Geto fucks you, the more you bounce, your moans growing louder and sluttier. You can feel another orgasm cresting, rising to the surface as fingers rub your clit in time with Geto's pounding. "You gon' cum again, cutie?" Gojo whispers. "You want my man to make you cum? Want him to blow his load for you too?" 

Yes. It's all you can think. Yes, you want it all. Yes, you need to cum. "Yes!" you wail above the music and Geto's loud groans, his thighs slapping against your ass like an audience applauding. "Yes, please, please! I-I need it! I need to cum!" You squeeze your eyes shut tight, the pleasure too intense for any of your muscles to work, even in your eye sockets. 

"Do it then, you sexy bitch," Gojo demands, his lush voice filling your ear. "Cum for him right now." Geto groans in agreement, rutting into you with all of the intention of cumming inside of you and making you gush for him. "C'mon, mamas, give it to me!" he roars. "Cum on that dick! Give it all to me!" 

Letting out a scream so loud that it would put Mariah Carey's career in the casket, your body seizes and you cum all over Geto's cock, stroking his own orgasm out of him. "Oh, shit!" Geto groans, his voice bouncing off of the basement walls as his hips stutter before he blows a fat, creamy load into your pussy, protected by the condom. Gojo watches you, still rubbing at your clit, drawing more broken whimpers and moans out of you as your fourth orgasms of the night wipes you out. 

Finally, your high fades and you crash land hard onto earth, your body going limp. "Good girl," Gojo chirps, pressing a hot kiss to your pussy before he rises from the floor, vanishing somewhere in the room. Geto grins and presses a kiss to your lips, grabbing your attention now. "Mmm," he groans like a sleepy bear. "That was real good, mama." He grins down at you, his eyes twinkling. You almost smile back. 

"Did ya get all that, Satoru?" he asks, turning to face his boyfriend over his shoulder. Slowly, you raise your head from the couch and look over Geto's shoulder. 

Gojo stands at the TV where he takes his phone off of the charger, turning it off with a beep. "Yep!" he chirps. "All on video. I'll send it to ya later. Thank God for that special punch I gave her." He grins at Geto, excited and giddy, while you're horrified. 

That's the beep you heard earlier. The beep of a recording. They recorded this? All of it? And the punch...it was spiked, you realize.

"Oh, my God," you whisper. Suddenly, the bliss of your orgasms and the buzz from the alcohol fades, leaving you feeling cold and used. 

But the frat boys are quick to comfort you. Gojo slides his shorts over his naked cock and plops down next to you while Geto easily scoops you into his lap, cradling you to him. "Relax, cutie pie," Gojo coos. Nobody's seein' that cute lil' pussy gettin' filled but us. You ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout...except about those panties." 

Geto hums in agreement, playing with your hair as you lean your head against his chest, knowing that you shouldn't be here anymore. 'S'okay, mama," he whispers. "Everything is okay now. We had so much fun with you." 

"No," you whisper, but it's barely audible. The high from the weed, alcohol, and sex makes your adrenaline drop and suddenly, you're exhausted. You can barely keep your eyes open, your vision blurry and your mind foggy. 

"Aw, she's gonna pass out on us!" Gojo chuckles, gently stroking your thigh as Geto rocks you. "Go ahead, baby, sleep. We'll wake ya up in the morning." 

The two of them press a kiss to your cheeks, making you whimper. "And then you can tell your sisters all about how you fucked the hottest frat boys on campus on New Year's Eve," Gojo whispers. "You'll be the envy of them all, gorgeous girl." 

the immediate heat that swarmed your body at your own words had the older man clenching his jaw tight to control himself. and maybe he was being manipulative. maybe he didn’t need to tell you that the other waitress that sucked him off a month ago wasn’t his favorite, but he only needed the relief after the argument you had with her that got him riled up.

you also didn’t need to know that he’s already fired her and she’s not actually on a leave of absence because of a family emergency these past weeks.

you also didn’t need to know how much he’s been yearning for you ever since he’s hired you around seven months ago. especially when you’d follow him around the first month as you were learning. just a college student working part time here, but you cared so deeply about his opinion and doing a good job. and it wasn’t hard to find out that you liked the praise.

so maybe when you walked in on the older waitress that you despised sucking your boss’s cock, it made your blood boil like no other and the immediate thought that you weren’t mr. toji’s favorite had you seething and breaking internally. and he caught onto that quick.

so when you asked for a meeting to talk about your performance report for this month, he immediately responded and that’s how you ended up sitting in the chair in front of him asking if you’d done anything wrong.

“now why would you think that?” toji softly asks. you bite your cheek trying to stop these embarrassing tears from falling. you’ve never cried over anything this small, you definitely weren’t sensitive, and it wasn’t like he was going to fire you. but the fact that he was treating others differently…it made your mind go haywire.

“c’mere,” he lifts his palm out for you to come too. moving around the desk you take his hand, cheeks warming as you feel his rough palm close around yours as he looks up at you. “you’re doing an excellent job.”

“but—“

you stop yourself, biting your cheek.

that’s when he decides to stand up, his free hand gently cupping your cheeks, thumb softly caressing you as he leans forward. you can feel your heart hammering against your chest the closer he gets until you feel his lips press a kiss to your forehead. that’s it? you feel your hand unconsciously grab onto his shirt, and if he wasn’t doing his damn fucking hardest not to lose it, well shit. instead his lips move downward.

kissing your temple.

then your cheek.

then the corner of your mouth.

“mr. toji,” you softly plead, unsure of what you’re even asking, and that’s when he gives you a gentle kiss to your lips. your fist tightens around his shirt as you lean up chasing his lips once he pulls away.

his emerald eyes glance between yours noticing the mix of anxiety, confusion, and need in your gaze.

he gently guides your hips back until your thighs knock against his desk. and you barely have time to register what’s happened because he’s already lifted you up on the surface, his hand guiding your own to his chest as he leans forward. his face inches from yours as you glance between his hooded eyes. his expression only made your heart race even more, he wasn’t angry, right?

“you’ve been more squeamish around me this week. did something happen?”

his question only had your blood boiling remembering the events of last week, and luckily for toji, you were too fucking easy to read with that bored and angry expression that flashed across your adorable features, immediately side eyeing the memory.

“hey,” his firm commad had you glancing back at him.

“I saw you,” you start, licking your teeth. “and Ruby, last friday.” your eyes narrow with frustration. “why did you do that with her?”

toji has to bite his cheek to surpress his smirk, because this is the first time you’ve ever given him attitude. yes, he’s seen you be rude as fuck to customers and people that have hit on you, and he’s had to step in multiple times before you threw a bottle at a customer. but still, even with all that, when it came to him, you were a fucking angel. too good for your own good that it was like a completely different person. he knew you adored him.

“why did i do what?” he pushes. maybe, he wants to see you angry. see you frown at him.

he notices your jaw clench momentarily. your fingers caressing the hairs on his forearm as you meet his eye. “do i have to say it?”

he smiles. “indulge me.”

you inhale sharply before exhaling slowly, clearly he’s getting under your skin by playing dumb. but still, you bite. “why did you let that bitch suck your dick?”

toji’s dimples press in as he holds back his smile again, his heat slowly disappears as he walks a step back to plop down on his chair. you frown even more at the silence that follows as you sit up to look down at him. the way you cock your head to the side in annoyance only seems to egg toji further, but unlike you, he can practice a bit of patience.

“well?” you snap.

“well what?”

“well, why did you do it? she’s a horrible manager, and she’s a fucking bitch, and-and yeah.”

“and yeah?” toji is beyond amused at the embarrassment that floods over your face. but not at all surprised that you hold your ground. and he has to reward you for that at least. he rolls his chair a bit closer, lifting your foot on his knee, hand gently caressing your ankle.

“do you let anyone suck you off then?” you’re not amused, not even when his calloused hands are caressing up your bare calves.

and that’s when he decides to bite. “just my favorites.”

he feels you tense in seconds. and he would feel bad if he didn’t meet your stern, but hurt expression. and it almost felt like he dropped a precious jewel and watched it shatter when you glance away.

“so I’m not your favorite?”

fhuck.

he inhales. you’re killing him. actively twisting the knife because he just couldn’t stop his twisted smile.

“you just started workin’ here. and you’re only part time, kid. I’ve got a lot of good girls workin’ just as hard as ya,” oh how easy it was for him to lie. as if any of his other waitresses could even come close to you.

you bite down on your jaw again. this was frustrating. too frustrating. the uncertainty that swam inside you, the hurt that you wished was behind you. it all became too overwhelming. the emotions you’ve never experienced before was terrifying and something you’d rather run away from now.

“mr. toji?”

“yes?”

“i wanna quit.”

woah, what?! toji blinks, of all the things he was expecting to hear, this was definitely not one of his calculations. “hold on.”

“I hate working here.” oh….a tantrum. “i hate that you let that bitch suck you off. and I fucking hate how it makes me feel now,” you ramble, no tears in sight, just pure confusion and frustration. you were slightly out of breath as you continue on. “I don’t want to ruin your club, but I don’t think I can—I can’t be here….” you pause, “I can’t work here and….not be your favorite.”

well fuck me, toji thinks. yeah, he knew how you were with being praised, but fucking hell, you definitely have some needy validation kink or you’ll spiral. exhibit A. but only for him.

luckily for him, this just made it even better. he stands up, letting his hand rest on your thigh as he moves between your legs. tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “let’s take a breath,” his voice was low and firm. his hand gently caressing your thigh, unbothered by how your skirt was riding up. he leans down to kiss the spot right below your ear. “you’re gonna throw a tantrum the second you don’t get what you want?”

your hand grips his bicep, almost bruising if it was anyone but him. “it’s not fair.”

“what’s not fair?” his words were clipped, harsh, but his lips continued to kiss your neck as you squirm, feeling him suck your skin. “tell me.”

“it’s not fair that I’m treated differently,” you tug on his sleeve, angry, even when he lifts his head to meet your eyes. your breath catches. you’ve never seen this expression on him. he looks angry. you frown even more, adorable brows pushing together even when he grabs your face.

he can feel the ache between his legs, the uncomfortable stretch in his pants. the urge to just give you what you want, those fucking eyes. and yet, he composes himself. he wants to drag it.

his eyes glance at your glossy wet lips, and he has to stop himself by putting his thumb against your lips instead. “open.”

you do.

and he forces his thumb in. you grip his forearm, and he forces himself forward, pressing his thumb down on your tongue as your eyes fill up too quickly. you hate how stupid you feel, but feeling not only his eyes on you, but every bit of his attention on you, it was beyond exhilarating.

enough that when he sat back down on his chair, you weren’t upset. or when he rolled forward, rough palm caressing your thighs before he lifted your legs up to prop them on his spread legs so he can lean in and kiss your knees. even as your chest rose and fell, you held yourself up, letting him put your feet on the edge of his desk and spread your legs apart completely.

hell, you fucking loved it, the attention, and he knew.

“cute,” he comments, eyes dark as he looks at your panties and your cute wet mound sticking to the material. his thumb stroking your inner thigh. “you still mad at me?”

his question had you slightly irritated. your eyes deciding that the wall in the corner was far more entertaining.

“really, doll?” he tsks, hand grabbing the inside of your thigh, hand so close to your core you sucked in sharply, preventing a gasp. “I’m givin’ ya special treatment right now,” he continues sliding his hand until his thumb pressed right against your clit.

your back immediately arched and the hand holding yourself up curled into a fist behind you. his eyes widen just a fraction, you were far more sensitive then he’d thought.

the heat curled up the back of his neck at the thought of your innocence. was he corrupting you right now? he bites back a groan, watching you grapple with your emotions, scanning your tense features. lets see how long it’ll take till you break.

he continued massaging circles over your panties, it didn’t even feel like any friction because of how wet and see through they’ve gotten, but you were definitely cracking, especially with his unapologetic and uncalled for comments. “you’re just a kid getting upset that your boss is handling private business in his office.”

“you didn’t lock the door,” you huff, getting hurt the more he spoke about what happened.

“it’s my fuckin’ office. everyone respects that, well except for,” he pinches your clit making you gasp out a moan. eyes filling up faster.

“mister—angh toj…ah,” you’re leaning up, face flushed and eyes swarming with hurt.

“yes?”

you bite your cheek. a tear slipping down and it was almost too satisfying for the older man too see, if it wasn’t followed by the glimmer in your eyes slowly dying off.

“doesn’t it feel good?”

your lip trembles, but you nod. “mmm, yes.” you cover your face with the back of your hand looking away. and toji almost wants to stop.

“you can tell me to stop, y’know?” his words cut deeper than you’d like to admit. and you’re already shaking your head sputtering out your true thoughts, no matter how embarrassing it may sound.

“b-but,” you swallow your stutter, “you said I’m not…your favorite.”

toji blinks. his hand stopping as he stares at you. seriously, you’re still on that. your adorable doe eyes waver, maintaining eye contact with him, because that’s all you’ve always had over him. that look. the same one you’d give him when you refused to work a table with disgusting frat boys. or when you’d ask to leave a few minutes early so you could catch the train home. it was so easy for you to look at him and only him like that, that it was impossible to refuse.

the tears glimmer on your waterline, slowly sliding down your cheeks and it makes him crack.

he easily, flawlessly, hooks a finger and slides your panties to the side, leaning down, tongue sticking out as he licks a wet strip up your sweet pussy.

you gasp loudly, leaning back on your hands, whining as toji slurps up your arousal that had been collecting the second you walked in and that he purposefully caused. “toji,” you grab his shoulder, nails digging in, but he doesn’t stop. instead he wraps his arms around your thighs, shoving his face even deeper making you moan louder than ever.

“you’ve been playing me like a fucking fiddle,” he growls, biting down on your clit only for you to tug his hair, hard.

“i wasn’t—angh!” he bites down again. your pussy was practically pouring with arousal as he shoves his lips back in. he’s never tasted something so good in his life, the sweet syrupy taste of your juices had him moaning against you. fuck you were sweet everywhere. “toji, please,” your nails dig into the back of his neck, forcing him to continue eating you out. if he wanted too, he could pull away, easy. but having you force his head between your thighs had him yearning, grateful he doesn’t need to beg on his knees because he could’ve done so without hesitation if it meant he’d get to taste you.

your chest was rising. your cheeks were flushed as toji leaned back, almost growling when he pushed your legs wider to take a better look at that glistening pussy.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he groans, rubbing his thumb through your arousal.

“what’re you—“

toji hums, opening you wider. “just looking,” he smiles, leaning down, eyes flicking up to meet your eyes as he spat down on your pussy like a pro, and dove right back in.

he didn’t stop. his tongue slid into your hole, and you literally felt your body rise of the desk for a second. “angh—you’re—inside—mmm fuck—“ you were a fucking moaner, and not in the porn typa of way. but in the adorable squeaks and gasps that have him rolling his eyes back in pleasure. he just wanted to drink everything up,

“close…so close mmh toji,” your moans, so airy and smooth, toji sucked your clit, tongue stroking the bundle of nerves edging you closer and closer until your hips were lifting up with his arms as you came. he almost lost his footing as he held your squirming body, tongue still moving against you.

“toji! s’ too much, anghh!” you cry, nails pulling his hair until it really began to hurt and pulse.

“fuck me, baby, that hurts,” he growls, holding your wrist as he looks up at you. and that’s when he notices how flustered you really were. your thighs trembled as they slid off his shoulders a bit and your chest was rising and falling.

you were fucking breath taking. fuck, you were looking at him with so much confusion he was close to moaning.

he slowly turned your wrist over, his lips pressing a soft kiss on your pulse before he it slowly came up. he stroked your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “you’re adorable,” his compliment almost felt demeaning. your eyes narrow and turn away, frowning.

“fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“means exactly what i said,” he grunts, turning your cheek so you’re looking at him. “you want my approval. is that gonna make you stay?”

you hate to admit it, but ya maybe. “whatever.”

“s’not whatever, i want you to stay. so tell me what you want,” he’s caressing your cheeks again. his presence was overwhelming as he towered over you. “I’ll give you this one even if you’re acting like a fuckin’ spoiled ass brat.” you frown even more, but he continues. genuine, eyes holding no alter motive when he says, “anything you want, pretty girl, cmon’ i know you liked being spoiled.” he tsks.

your eyes seem to light up, “anything?”

he traces your jaw, humming with a nod.

“strip.”

toji blinks, really? but looking at your face, even you’re blushing furiously, but still nodding.

“in here?” he clarifies. you nod. “you’re fuckin kinky.” he chuckles but begins with the first button of his dress shirt until he’s shrugging the material off revealing his wide sculpted chest. he definitely couldn’t be real. his arms were huge, muscle everywhere as you blushed at the sight of his naked torso, and you blew a fuse when yiur gaze traveled down the expanse of his chest to his dark happy trail. it made you even more excited when he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

“stop,” you command as the last item on is his boxers. His muscular thighs only framing the large bulge that’s pressing hard against his thigh. toji can’t contain his smile at your ogling, not even when you slide off the desk and step down to kneel in front of him pushing him to sit back in his chair. “can i?”

“it’s your game,” he smirks.

your small hand starts to palm his cock, as you lean in, kissing his covered tip. the choked grunt your boss lets out only spurs you on as you suck through the material of his boxers. the long work day still stuck to his skin as your eyes fluttered shut as his scent filled your nose making you drip even more.

toji bites back a groan at the sight, “dirty girl,” he watches.

you don’t respond, too busy nosing his cock. you definitely were no ruby, but seeing your less experienced self explore and worship him was worth so much more. especially when he lifts his hips up, letting you slide his boxers down his thighs, blushing furiously when the real thing bobs in front of you. your pupils dilate at the sight. ten inches, heavy as it hovers between his muscular thighs. his happy trail is dark and leads to a well trimmed base of dark black hair that makes you flush. his musk was strong.

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his tip taking a lick, then another, you lick your hand and spit on his cock, eyes large as you wrap your palm around him and pull the skin back seeing his engorged tip come out. fuck me.

toji bites back a pathetic moan as he watches silent.

if only he knew all his cute little waitress wanted was to see his big fat dick.

“it’s so big,” you mutter to yourself, as you lick up over and over like it’s some damn popsicle. and toji lets out a low sigh deep inside his chest. his hips rising spreading his legs further for you, hand gently caressing your head.

“take me inside your mouth,” his quiet command had your doe eyes fluttering up at him for more instructions. all dolled up, with runny mascara from your tears, and flushed cheeks from your previous orgasm. he needed to take picture and make it his lockscreen. “open wide, like a big girl—yes, mmm just like that—“ toji groans watching you suck his fat tip into your mouth, tongue circling his slit.

he gently guides you down. “you can take sum’ore, nghh—“

his hand pushes his loose strands back, biting his cheek to prevent the noises threatening to come out.

but fuck, he swears watching you slobber all over his dick as you bob your head at your own pace. the lewd squelching of your mouth sucking him was cussing his stomach to tighten, abs flexing when your hand begins to wander to his inner thigh.

your cute face was covered in drool, lashes kissing your flushed cheeks as they remained closed when you took him just a bit deeper. your throat tightening on instinct, “christ—“ toji grunts low and rough, thighs spreading even more, fingers lacing through your hair. “you just wanted to suck my dick, mmm ‘s that it?”

you hum pathetically loud around him, making his jaw clench.

“look up at me, baby, let me see you,” he gently gives your hair a little tug making you whine, slowly coming off his cock, tongue hanging out like a little slut as you catch your breath. your small hand is remains wrapped tightly around his base lazily rubbing his giant member across your tongue. unable to part with it even for a breath.

“hah, y’know,” toji licks his lips, chiseled chest rising with each breath as he takes in this sight. his cock twitches, pre-cum oozing out and easily swiped away by your greedy tongue.

you hum, glossy eyes doting up at him as your lashes flutter like a seductress.

his expression is pinched, thighs flexing as he keeps your head still so you were only giving him cute kitten licks, controlling himself. “ya should’ve told me sooner that you just wanted this.”

you pout up at him, kissing down the side is his cock, holding it against your sticky cheek unbothered by the mess. he exhales sharply, an airy laugh escaping him.

“what?”

you frown, sucking and licking at his base, then slowly dragging your tongue back up.

“fuck,” his back arches, barely, head thrown back as he grips your hair.

“i thought…i just…i didn’t want you to hate me,” you finally respond, adorably glancing up at him like you weren’t smothering his cock like it was popsicle. you peck his oozing tip, over and over, before swallowing him again. you whine around him, eyes teary as you stare up at your boss.

“shit, you fuckin’ brat,” his abs tense even more as you pick up the pace, gagging occasionally, but still stroking his base at the same speed. his eyes struggle to stay open, the pleasure making his mind foggy as you choke more of his cock into your tight hot mouth.

“f-fuck,” toji stammered, jaw loosening as his abs flex. the sound alone has you choking a bit as a moan leaves your throat. he doesn’t mean too tug your head, a low grunt escaping from deep in his chest when you start whining.

his heavy eyes were seconds away from rolling to the back of his skull. “good fuckin—fhuh-ck“ his cheeks were stinging, too stubborn to admit how this is probably the best fucking head he’s gotten in years. and it’s simply because it’s you.

his sweet sweet waitress with the biggest attitude and so quick to throw something at customers, having you desperately gagging on his cock as tears stream down your cheeks with determination. fuck he found the sight of your lips bulging around his thick cock—

“ya like having your throat stuffed? eh, was this all you wanted,” he bites his lip, slowly thrusting his hips into your mouth, you gag even more but remain determined, whining around him barely as you grip his thighs.

his chest was covered with a layer of sweat, his darkened green gaze bore into in the lewd sight.

another moan threatened to slip past his lips, he covered it with his hand, his other hand pressing a palm against your forehead, brushing your sweat with his thumb.

you pull off, gasping for air, but immediately latch onto him, his hips jerk in surprise, you weren’t giving him a second to rest. your tongue swiped against that one vein that sent immediate jerks throughout his body.

“fuck—watch it,” he grunts hoarsely.

your eyes are so big and glossy as you notice the shift in his expression. his cheeks flushed as he tries to control your head. but you want it. you want to taste him in your mouth, the victory of making your boss cum would quench your infinite desire to please him.

toji swears under his breath as a loud grunt leaves him when you swipe your tongue over the vein again and again, your cheeks hallow. “what’d I fuckin’ say you brat,” his hips stutter, cheeks flooding pink when you bat your pretty thick lashes at him.

he’s so fucked.

once again, your tongue swipes against the sensitive vein, but lucky for him, you come off to breathe. your cheeks flushed, mouth open and panting as sticky strings of spit and cum connect your bottom lip to his drooling tip.

toji huffs, partially frustrated and partially surprised, until a deep groan comes out from deep in his chest that sends shiver down your spine and cheeks flushing because you decide to wrap your both of pretty little hands around his cock and start jerking him off.

“fuck!—hold on—“ toji chokes, his once laid back position has moved to a better seated posture, with his hand gripping your wrist, mentally deciding whether he should pull it off and stop you, or if he’s really enjoying this.

you pout at him like you’re the most innocent little thing, and not like you’re unraveling his entire existence this very second.

you continue jerking his twitching cock, his jaw tenses, thumb rubbing your wrist. his neck was completely visible as it strained with pressure. the sweat that beaded his chest had your pupils dilating at the sight. why was your boss so fucking hot?

and so your lips returned to his fat tip, it was definitely an addiction. like a baby to a pacifier. sucking his tip was so gratifying. you whine, hand sliding down to play with your boss’s giant cum filled balls.

toji lost control the second he allowed you to get on your knees. he was letting you do as you please and he was desperately trying to control his orgasm, if that’s possible with the way you’re licking that vein.

“fuckin’ christ—baby haah!”

he hunches forward, abs fully tensing as he grips your hair and spasms in your mouth.

his groans and grunts had your thighs clenching tight. once you tasted the first spurts of his thick cum hitting the back of your throat, you felt something hot flush through your veins.

“shiit—“ toji pulls you off his cock, holding his base with a tight grip, jaw tight, keeping his tip on your flat tongue. “this what you wanted—mmm shit—“ he grunts, slightly rolling his hips up into his hand, letting his chubby cock clench up and spurt more ropes of cum on your tongue and face.

you blink, lashes fluttering like a princess as your boss bites back another grunt as he covers your face in cum.

“fuck,” his slow exhale is met with his cock tapping your tongue, smearing his cum across your glossy lips. “you—“ he chokes, cheeks unbelievably flushed when you lick his tip and suck the remnants of his cum. “baby.”

his calloused hand stops your actions, grabbing tissues on the side as he affectionately holds your face and cleans his cum off.

you remain still. pretty lashes closed until he finishes. his thumb caressing your cheek, then your glossy lips, and nothing else was stopping him from tilting your head up, and when your eyes blinked open, his lips crashed against yours.

a gasp slips out, but easily turns into a whimper as he deepens the kiss. it felt like second nature, his tongue desperate as you meet him. rising up, you easily climb onto his lap. arms locking around his neck, kissing him with every fiber of your being.

“fucking’ tease,” he mutters between kisses, tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

your lips curl, earning a chuckle from the older man, his hands gripping your ass as he had you rock against his chubby cock.

he easily slid between your folds, grinding you back and forth. his tongue playing with yours, eyes half lidded as he watched your expression. “yeah, you like that?”

you hum, exhaling against his kiss, “yeah.” your tease sends a wave of heat through his body, his grip on your ass almost painful as he grabs his cock. his lips find yours again, humming in delight, slapping his hard cock against your ass, spreading your juices around.

“you gonna take it like one of my girls,” he exhales, calloused palm holding your ass apart as he feels the heat from your pussy.

however you pull away from his lips, warm breath fanning against his face as your chest heaves lightly. he bites back a groan, pressing himself against your ass again, watching your gaze narrow at him.

“only girl.”

he snorts. not mockingly, but in teasing agreement.

“only girl, eh?”

you nod. eyes studying his reaction as you cup his jaw, fingers digging in as you stare him down. he doesn’t break eye contact, his tongue running across his lips, touching his scar as he swallows a groan.

“just me,” your voice is lower, stern. like you can tell him what to do.

he hums, lifting your ass up, and your body following suite, lining his cock against your tight hole. your lips hover over his, small breath escaping as he keeps his eyes locked on you.

“you telling me what to do?” his question was teasing, but the way he was staring you down was definitely a test. at least in your little brain. you hum, whining just a bit when he pushes his tip through your tight opening. your walls immediately stretching as your nails dig into his nape. “is that what’s happenin’ here?”

you choke, eyes fluttering, jaw momentarily slack as he rocks you on his tip.

“you forgot how to speak, baby? you wanna be a big girl?” his jaw tenses when your tight cunt squeezes him. “shiit—“ his grip tightens on your ass as you still hold his jaw, head pressed against his. eyes shut. “tight fuckin’ cunt,” he loosens his grip on your ass and brings a hand cracking down.

“angh!” your loud yelp has him grunting as he pushes more in, your lips press against his again. “it’s wait—haah-“ you choke against his lips as he tries to kiss you. but your breaking off into moans, unable to keep up with the unbelievable stretch. in this delirious state, you don’t realize he’s opened up your work shirt, revealing your breasts. “fuck I miss those bras that would unclasp from the front,” he mutters as he kisses the tops of your breasts. his fingers easily sliding up your spine sending shiver down your spine as he flicks over the clasp watching your bra slip down.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. he moans around you, squeezing your ass with both hands. your eyes flutter shut, body heating up before he’s suddenly lifting you up, so just hit tip remained inside your right walls.

“deep breath, baby,” he huffs, biting his jaw as your eyes glance down at him.

“what’re you—“ the sentence immediately dies on your tongue, as he slams you down on his cock, thrusting up at the same time, making sure all ten fat inches of him are stuffed inside you.

“fuck—there we go,” toji exhales, groaning when you clench and shake over him. “you okay, baby?” he soothes a hand down your spine, your face buried in his shoulder, shaking. “baby?”

you hum, choking slightly as you hug him tighter.

he massages your ass gently rocking you. “ya haveta talk to me, pretty girl—shit,” he tenses underneath you when your wall clench his fat length. you whimper again, feeling your boss’s cock twitching inside you.

“it hurts,” you whine, luckily he hears your small voice. his lips turn to kiss your temple as you hold him tighter.

“it’s big that’s why. but it’ll feel much better in a few minutes, don’t you feel full?” he coos, speaking so gently you’d almost guess he didn’t have his monstrous cock stuffing your little hole full.

you hum, wiggling in discomfort. toji hums, lifting your ass, biceps flexing as he spread his legs, and he drops you back down. “fuckk,” his groans sends a new wave of heat down to your core.

it took a few more thrusts, until you were rocking down, humming as you continued riding him. “haah yeah, jus’ like that baby,” his praises easily fueled your confidence.

you moaned, bouncing with his help, your ass clapping down against his legs as he continued helping your movements. your lips find his again in a messy kiss.

“hmm angh more—“ you whine, growing dumber as his palms dig into the flesh of your ass, his own cheeks flushed red as you drool into his mouth, the squelching of your pussy sucking him back in with every thrust.

“more?” he snorts, but nonetheless, spreads your ass before he starts thrusting up at an unrelenting pace.

“nmah hah t’ji! Angh!”

your pitched moans immediately sent toji into a frenzy. if you couldn’t get even more breathtaking, his teeth sink into your neck as you whine, nails digging into his nape and shoulder.

“fuck—tight fuckin’ cunt sucking me to—shiit“ toji grunts out more curses as he licks over the deep bite mark on your neck.

your mixed cum is webbed between your plush thighs, as he thrusts harder, and you can’t help leaning to his lips again whining his name like a prayer until he meets your kisses.

too caught up in the moment, toji missed the repeated knocks on his office, until one of the bar tenders opened the door, the loud music from the club downstairs filling in the room. and the sight of the short tempered waitress crying and whining as she rode the boss’s fat cock left him frozen in his tracks.

toji immediately sensed the door, eyes sharp and unforgiving as he met the poor man’s gaze. he kept his rhythm not wanting you to notice and freak out.

“angh toji—pleas—so big—fhuck—“ you moan, unbeknownst to you, your boss is flipping off the man at the door, and mouthing ‘get the fuck out’. because in seconds the man disappears and toji is back to a quicker pace.

“so good—ji—“ your eyes are glossed over, lips smeared with salvia as he slaps your ass again.

“gun’nu cum, baby? haah feel ya tighten on me, cmon—“ his grunts are starting to waver, a layer of sweat shining across his forehead as you whine louder, eyes filling with more tears as you kiss him.

“gun cum—fhuck—i—“ your lips form an o, as you feel your body loose strength and the build up deep in your core. the stimulation of your clit rubbing against his hairy pubes had your eyes rolling back as tears slipped down the flush of your cheeks.

“yeah, haha cumming’ pretty girl, my favorite girl,” his continuous praising had your orgasm crashing over you. legs shaking as he slaps your ass again, thrusts relentless. edging himself closer to his orgasm as you shake and hug him tighter, face pressed against his shoulder as you cry. “aww baby —“ he grits, breathless as he feels his core tighten getting so close as the lewd squelching filled the room. “my baby, look at me—wanna see your pretty face when I cum.”

your small body is shaking, before you lift your face, orbs glossy and face wet with tears as you pant, lips hovering over his, face so close to his, he was ready to bust right there, but instead you decided to kiss him again, absolutely fucked dumb. rocking back into each thrust even as it sent your body shivering with overstimulation.

“mine,” you kiss him, desperate. he hums as you continue whining, much softer and needier than before. “cum—please—fuck your cum in me t’ji—haah okay, okay?”

“shit,” a throaty groan escapes his lips at your words. “ya’ can’t fuckin—“

“please please,” you cry, sniffling with a moan, “i love you, I love yo—angh!” the sharp thrust immediately knocks the wind out of you and you feel the loud rumble underneath as toji groans. the deep groan rocks your core as you feel the hot sensation fill you up.

toji’s head is thrown back, hips locked up, chest heaving as another animalistic groan comes out along with another heavy spurt of cum.

you whimper, face pressed into his shoulder, hugging him tightly as he lifts your hips again, just for another wave of cum to crawl up and spurt inside you. you whine lowly, feeling so full as toji exhales sharply, before he moves to pull your ass up, his softening cock slipping out along with the cum that oozes out in fat messy globs.

toji shivers holding his cock as he smears his cum again and then slowly pushes in. fuck you’re so warm.

“baby?” toji sighs out, hand caressing your back.

you hum gently.

he nudges you softly, but you remain still, hugging him tighter, just like a spoiled little girl. toji exhales, head tilted back in the chair, arms wrapping around you as he appeals to your post-sex nerves.

“I’m your favorite,” you mutter it like a command instead of a question.

toji hums.

“just me,” you say it firmly, arms tightening.

“just you,” he gently caresses the back of your head, petting you.

“i don’t wanna quit,” you confess.

toji holds back a chuckle as he smiles, “yeah, i know.”

“so I’m gonna stay,” your voice is slightly hesitant.

“is that a question?”

you finally peel your face from his shoulder. sitting up, looking down at him as he smirks. hand brushing your side.

“you promise it’s me. I’m your favorite,” you wipe some tears with the back of your hand as you glare at your boss.

his gaze flicks between yours, because he regrets it. not fucking you now. no, that was the best fucking thing he’s done in a long time. and he’s almost sure you were a virgin too, which made him have another feeling swell inside him. but what he regrets was making you feel this uneasiness.

he should’ve kept it in his pants and not let ruby suck him off, because now his precious girl was convincing herself to trust him.

he knows he’s disgusting. he knows you’re much better than him in every way. but he still leans up, kissing your hand then your lips, soft…sweet and whispers.

“you’re my favorite. that won’t change. I promise,” he waits for your eyes to find the truth written on his face, and feels a weight gently lift off his shoulders when you pout adorably, bringing a pinkie up. and he takes your pinkie shaking it with his.

to say that toji kept his word was an understatement. everybody knew that you were dating the boss. not only because unbeknownst to you, that bar tender told everyone how he caught you both fucking in the office, but also because of the possessiveness expressed on your end towards your older boyfriend.

you were always latched onto him. glaring at anyone that starred too hard, or tried to speak to him unprofessionally. it was cute having a cute little kitty thinking she’s a bulldog barking at everyone, but only seemed to draw the opposite affect on him, as he’d come up to you grabbing the bottle you were ready to throw at some man that tried to pick a fight with your boyfriend.

“there there, i got it, baby,” he’d calmly speak into your ear with a chuckle. your nostrils flaring as you hum in agreement, loosening your grip on the bottle and watching with arms crossed as your boyfriend handled it swiftly.

Besides, he has you as his roommate. He thinks it’s an indecent move to watch porn when you’re literally just on the other side of the dorm. So whenever it was his ‘me time’, he always made sure you went out or you were in class somewhere across the campus.

He had already imagined many worst possible ways of being caught by you. Would there be even any chances you’d open his bedroom door? While the probability is ten percent or maybe, even less, it is never zero.

Hell, you barely left your room. The walls are incredibly thick and soundproofed, and both of your rooms sat at the opposite ends of the unit, at that—it still felt mortifying.

But curiosity followed him everywhere. The guys from his program have been talking about the site so much. They’re crazy about it. Some even mentioned having already spent a hundred bucks for just one mere streamer. He thinks they’re stupid—they’re wasting their precious money for absolutely nothing.

www.girlsoncum.com

“Really? Girls on cum?” He’d implausibly asked Suguru earlier that day, who willingly showed him the website on his phone.

This guy’s shameless to the roof.

“Hell yeah. A play on the word camera, d’you get it?”

“You think I’m dumb? ‘Course, I get it.”

“Your words, not mine,” Suguru raised his hands in a fake surrender. “You should check out user sultrykitty when you look it up later. She’s one of the best.”

And now, this is the dilemma Satoru officially put himself into. It’s simple, really. He could either ignore the entire existence of the website or he could search it up and see for himself what the boys have been raving about.

Being a natural, curious man who has his own needs and wants, it's only normal that he chooses the latter. He’s just a man in need of a hot release, after all.

Satoru stood up abruptly from his gaming chair and silently made his way to the door. He twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open. Slowly, he peeked his head out. He doesn’t remember seeing you come out of your room but it’s a Tuesday—for sure you’re gone the whole day.

His keyboard made an annoying clicky sound as he pressed each letter to the website he was shown to. When he hit the enter key, he knew he was in for a ride.

A small page popped up, a disclaimer in bold letters that he was about to enter a website strictly for adults—no minors allowed—and that he had to confirm he was 18 or older.

Satoru scoffed, already clicking ‘Yes’ before he even finished reading.

The page transitioned into a sleek black and pink layout, rows upon rows of thumbnails filling his monitor with suggestive thumbnails and titles that made his throat dry up.

Satoru’s fingers hovered over the mouse, his throat tightening as he clicked the ‘Hot’ tab at the top of the screen. The page refreshed instantly, flooding his wide monitor with an even more dizzying array of thumbnails—girls in skimpy lingerie, girls biting their lips, girls arching their backs against bedsheets or gripping the edges of gaming chairs with painted nails. Some wore masks, teasing anonymity while others stared boldly into their cameras.

The variety was overwhelming and his pulse kicked up a notch when he realized just how many of them were live, little red dots blinking beside their usernames—proof of real, breathing women moving on the other side of his screen right now.

His eyes darted across the screen, scanning the usernames until one snagged his attention like a fishhook.

🔴 sultrykitty | let’s play and get naughty :3

The thumbnail was modest compared to others, just the curve of bare shoulders and a black lace mask across the upper half of her face. Suguru hadn’t been exaggerating; the moment he clicked on her stream, the chat exploded in a frenzy of dollar signs and emojis, messages scrolling too fast to read. The camera angle was low, tilted up just enough to show the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and the way her fingers trailed lazily over her own skin like she had all the time in the world.

“Ohhh, big spenders tonight, huh?”

Her voice dripped honey-sweet through Satoru’s headphones as she dragged a fingertip along her collarbone. The chat exploded again, a blur of usernames and dollar amounts he couldn’t keep up with.

Shirtcumstains: fuck ur so hot

DaddyDark69 tipped $100 DaddyDark69: You look extremely good today, Kitty!

“Awww... thank you, DaddyDark69,” she purred, dragging out the ‘Daddy’ in a way that sent an involuntary shiver down Satoru’s spine. “You always tip so well. Should I play with my tits for you? Or do you wanna see something else first?”

Maximo135 tipped $50

Pieter6767 tipped $70 Pieter6767: let me taste you baby

“Alright, let’s see what my kittens wanna see tonight,” she cooed, tilting her head as she skimmed the rapidly scrolling chat. Her fingers—nails painted black, Satoru noted—traced idle circles over her stomach, dipping just below the waistband of her lace panties before pulling away teasingly.

The chat erupted in protest, demands for her to go lower, to stop teasing, to give them what they paid for. She laughed, low and throaty, and Satoru realized his nails were digging into his chair.

His breath hitched when she finally hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panties, rolling them slow enough to make the chat lose their minds. The curve of her hips, the smooth dip between her thighs—his grip on the chair tightened as he leaned forward, pulse hammering in his ears.

“Mmmhhh… tell me boys,” she hummed, spreading her legs and thighs wider. “What should I use tonight? Your choice.”

Cowboybear00 tipped $20 Cowboybear00: Please use the tentacle dildo

Getwreckedson tipped $35 Getwreckedson: the pink clit sucker plssss kitty

Trojanhorsey: y'all suck real bad xD Trojanhorsey tipped $50 Trojanhorsey: the rabbit vibrator is clearly the best choice you stupid fucks

“Boys, please don’t fight over the chatbox,” she laughed, leaning back against the pink pillows. “Actually, kittens, nevermind what I said. I got something new for you guys today.” she reached off-screen with a smirk that sent cold sweat prickling on his neck.

She pulled out a sleek, black toy—one of those high-end vibrators with app and remote connectivity, the kind Suguru had joked about hacking into during a hangout last week.

The chat exploded.

Her fingers danced over the toy’s control with ease, the tip already glistening under the lights. “Should I start slow?” she muses, dragging it down from her stomach to her pussy. “Or-” Her thumb flicks a switch. The sudden, buzzing whir makes her gasp, back arching off the bed as the vibrator kicks to life against her inner thigh.

“Oh fuck- okay, okay, that’s-” She giggles, breathless, and Satoru’s brain short-circuits.

DaddyDark69 tipped $200 DaddyDark69: Turn it up higher baby, I wanna hear you scream

“You’re real greedy, DaddyDark69,” she panted, her fingers trembling when she cranked the intensity up another notch. The vibrator pressed flush against her now, the sound wet and obscenely loud in Satoru’s headphones.

He should close the tab. He should leave.

Instead, his free hand drifts shamelessly to the bulge in his sweatpants, hips jerking when she moans—high and needy—as the toy circled her clit.

“Shiiit, shit-” Her thighs clamp around the vibrator, muscles fluttering on screen. “You guys—ah! You’re gonna make me cum before we even-”

Satoru tugged down the band of his sweatpants, just enough to free his cock. It was already stiff, straining against his boxers. He doesn’t even remember getting this hard. His palm pressed against the outline of his erection, hissing through his teeth at the contact before finally pulling himself out.

The contrast was obscene. The cold air of his room against his flushed skin, the heat of his own grip as he swiped his thumb over the leaking tip. On screen, the woman whimpered, her back arching off the bed as the vibrator pulsed against her clit.

He matched his strokes to the rhythm of her moans, his fingers tightening around his cock as she gasped, “Fuck, fuuuck, fuck—right there…” His hips jerked forward into his fist, the wet sound of his hand moving over his cock.

He couldn’t look away. Not when she rolled her hips desperately against the toy.

“You guys wanna see me cum?” She bit her lip and whined.

The chat exploded, tips flooding in, but Satoru barely registered them—his entire world narrowed to the way her thighs trembled, the way her fingers dug into the sheets as she fucked herself against the vibrator. His own movements turned frantic and his breathing ragged, his free hand gripped the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles ached.

“Oh my god! I’m cumming! I’m-”

The words dissolved into a gasp, her thighs clamping as she shuddered through it. Satoru’s vision whited out.

He just fucking came.

The first thing that registered to him was the thick wetness dripping from his glasses. The second was the sticky mess warm on his fingers, the proof of his shame smeared across his palm. He tipped his head back against the chair, the aftershocks still rolling through him in lazy waves.

The screen showed the woman catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she giggled at the chat’s demands for an encore.

Her fingers slid through the slick mess between her thighs. She hooked two fingers into herself, spreading her pussy open for the camera. The chat erupted into a frenzy—dollar signs and fire emojis flooding the screen.

Satoru didn’t bother about wiping himself clean. He gripped his cock again, mouth dry as he watched her drag a fingertip through her own wetness.

“Hmm... look at how ruined I am,” she breathed, voice husky from moaning. “All for you.”

Satoru smeared his cum over the tip of his cock as he watched her circle her clit again. The angle of the camera caught every detail. The way her folds glistened, the way her entrance fluttered when she dipped a finger inside with a soft gasp. His grip tightened around himself, fingers slick with his cum as he dragged his hand lazily along his cock.

His eyes stayed glued to the screen where sultrykitty arched her back, biting her lip as she added another finger inside herself. The vibrator pressed back against her clit, its buzz audible through the layers of her whimpers.

“Fuck, you guys,” her voice cracked as she rocked her hips, the toy vibrating mercilessly against her oversensitive nerves. “I can’t—ah—decide if this feels too good or—nngh—if it’s gonna kill me.”

The joke landed somewhere between a moan and a laugh but Satoru just swallowed, his own hips twitching forward in time with her movements. She was relentless, fingers pumping in and out of herself while the vibrator turned her thighs to jelly, her moans pitched higher—breathier—until they barely sounded like words at all.

DaddyDark69 tipped $500 DaddyDark69: Squirt for me, Kitty

Her lips parted in a silent gasp before she let out a shuddering exhale. “You’re really testing me tonight.” She shifted the vibrator lower, pressing it flush against her entrance where her fingers worked, the toy buzzing against her knuckles.

The effect was instantaneous—her entire body jerked, a high-pitched whine tearing from her throat as her thighs shook violently.

“Oh god, oh my god!”

A low groan punched out of Satoru-s throat before he could smother it—half-stangled and desperate—as her body convulsed on screen. The sound felt too loud in the silent room, even with his headphones on. He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes darting toward the door like you might burst through it any second.

“F-Fuck,” he panted against his palm, hips stuttering into his own fist. "Shit."

“I’m close!”

Satoru’s vision whited out again, his orgasm crashing over him so hard his knees knocked against the desk. Cum streaked across his stomach in hot, messy ropes. He hissed as he milked himself through it, every twitch of her body mirrored in his own.

He hadn’t come this much before. Ever.

Her body jerked—a sudden, violent arch of her spine that sent the vibrator slipping from her soaked fingers. Her moans fractured into gasps as the first spurt hit the bedsheet. The sheets darkened instantly, the liquid sprayed in erratic spurts across her thighs.

FartSucker333 tipped $100 FartSucker333: daaamnnn that was so fucking hot kitty u did so well

SexSailor tipped $250 SexSailor: you're my favorite girl, kitty. wish i could lick you up clean rn

Satoru's breath caught as she laughed breathlessly, her fingers now lazily circling her clit while the vibrator lay discarded beside her. The camera caught every twitch of her legs, the way her hips jerked when she teased herself, overstimulated but refusing to stop.

His own cock twitched pathetically in his hand, still wet with his own mess. He couldn't look away.

"Mmhmmm, that's right, my kittens," she cooed, her voice still quite shaky from the aftershocks. Her fingers trailed lazily through the mess on her thighs before she swiped them across her tongue. "You've been so good to me tonight. But all good things have to end, don't they?"

The pity in her voice is performative, but the way she shifts her legs closed betrays how wrecked she really is.

She sighed, then stretched her arms above her head with a satisfied hum, the movement made her tits bounce enticingly. "As much as I'd love to keep playing with you all night..." She tapped her lower lip, feigning regret while the chat erupts in protest. "Kitty's got an early day to get ready for tomorrow."

The lie slipped effortlessly from her tongue, punctuated by a wink that sent another round of tips flooding in.

The screen went black, leaving Satoru staring at his own reflection—glasses smudged, cheeks flushed, lips slightly parted—like some pathetic loser who'd just been gutted by pixels and a voice. His fingers twitched on the mouse, hovering over the X button. The silence pressed against his eardrums, a stark contrast to the relentless moans still echoing in his skull.

Fortunately, the tissue box was just beside him. He grabbed some and wiped his sticky fingers clean then took his headphones off. When he pushed himself out of the chair, his legs wobbled slightly but he steadied himself quickly.

The livestream had really gotten him that weak in the knees.

Satoru grabbed his glasses off his face to clean them with the hem of his shirt. The smear of cum came off reluctantly, leaving the lenses streaky. He sighed and tossed them back on before cracking his door open, listening for any signs of movement in the dorm.

The living room and kitchen were still empty.

He padded toward the bathroom, still half-hard and aching, when the door at the opposite end of the hallway suddenly creaked open.

You stepped out, wrapped in a pink bathrobe, your hair slightly damp at the ends like you’d just showered. The robe was tied loosely, gaping just enough to reveal the smooth skin of your collarbone.

Your fingers paused mid-air, hovering near the belt of your robe as you blinked at him. “Oh. Hi, Satoru.”

Satoru swallowed thickly. “Uh… Hey.”

Your gaze flickered down—just for a fraction of a second. His sweatpants were loose. He shifted his weight, subtly angling himself away as the heat crawled up his neck.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you said, tilting your head. The movement made the robe slip slightly off your shoulder. His brain short-circuited.

“Y-Yeah. I was… studying,” he managed, voice strained. “Didn’t know you were too.”

You nodded and the two of you shuffled awkwardly toward the bathroom, the hallway suddenly feeling narrow. “Are you going to…?” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the door. The flush creeping up Satoru’s neck deepened as he adjusted his glasses with nervous fingers.

“Ah- yes, but you can go first,” he blurted. You grinned, stepping closer—close enough that the scent of your shower gel, a mix of something vanilla and strawberries, tangled with the musky aftermath still clinging to him.

“Oh, come on, I insist.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Satoru stiffened, pushing his glasses up again. “Ladies first,” he muttered stubbornly.

“Fine, but only because you’re being weirdly chivalrous about pissing.”

You moved to sidestep him when something caught your eye. A faint, milky streak glazed the left lens of his glasses. Your nose wrinkled.

“Uh. Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

You leaned in, squinting. “There’s… something on your glasses.”

Satoru’s fingers fumbled against the frames of his glasses, nearly dropping them in his haste. “O-Oh!” he stammered as he yanked them off his face. Your laughter bubbled up, the kind that made his stomach flip with humiliation.

“Did you forget to clean up after your snack?” You teased, before stepping in the bathroom.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, leaving him standing there like an idiot, glasses clutched in his trembling hand. He stared at the closed door, pulse hammering as the sound of running water filled the silence. His mind raced.

Did you notice? Did you know?

Satoru dragged a hand down his face, fingers pressing hard enough to leave red streaks on his skin. He shuffled back to his room.

His gaming chair creaked under his weight when he collapsed into it, the leather still warm from where he’d been sitting earlier. The monitor had gone to sleep but the reflection staring back at him on the black screen was worse. His white hair messy, lips bitten red, glasses smudged with—god, he couldn’t even think it. He wiped them clean again, with proper cloth and antibacterial wipes this time.

“So? D’you watch her? Worth the hype or what?”

The library’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like a relentless mosquito in Satoru’s ear, but nothing was louder than Suguru’s shit-eating grin across the table. If it wasn’t for some assignment, he wouldn’t meet up with him at this hour.

The tip of Satoru’s pencil snapped. He stared at the broken lead embedded in the worksheet.

“I literally don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shoving his glasses up his nose.

Suguru snorted, slouching back in his chair. “That’s bullshit,” he flicked a crumpled gum wrapper at Satoru’s chest. “Did you jerk off to her?”

The library’s AC hummed. Satoru’s throat clicked when he swallowed again.

“Be honest?”

“Fuck off, Suguru.”

Suguru leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his interlaced fingers. The grin never left his face. If anything, it widened, sharpening at the edges.

“Hmkaaay,” he drawled, dragging the word out. “Still. You didn’t answer my question.”

Satoru rolled his eyes and shoved Suguru’s half-empty worksheet toward him. “Please shut the fuck up.”

The key turned with a click louder than usual in the quiet dorm, and Satoru froze mid-step when he heard laughter—bright, unguarded, and unmistakably yours—spilling from the living room. He blinked, adjusting his glasses as if they might be distorting the scene.

You’re curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, legs tucked under you, eyes crinkling at the corners as you laughed at something on the screen. There’s a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, the buttery scent lingering.

His throat went dry. In all the months you’d shared this space, he’d never seen you like this. You were always a phantom in the dorm, slipping in and out of your room as if allergic to shared spaces.

He must be dreaming.

“Oh, hey,” you said, noticing him hovering in the doorway like a startled deer. “You’re back early.”

Satoru’s brain short-circuited. Early? He wasn’t—he checked his watch out of habit, then realized you were right. Maybe if Suguru wasn’t being an ass, he still probably wouldn’t be home by now.

“Yeah…” He managed, gripping the strap of his backpack lighter. “What’re you watching?”

You snorted, tossing a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Some terrible rom-com movie my friend recommended. It’s actually so bad, it’s good.” You patted the empty space beside you. “Wanna join? There’s still plenty of popcorn.”

He should’ve said no. He should’ve mumbled something about assignments and bolted to his room.

But he didn’t.

“Sure,” he heard himself say. “I’ll just get changed real quick.”

“Okaaay!” You call after him, already turning your attention back to the screen as Satoru shuffled down the hallway.

The moment his bedroom door clicked shut, Satoru facepalmed so hard his glasses dug into his forehead. What the hell was he thinking? He had never voluntarily spent time with you outside of awkward hallway encounters and the occasional text if either of you are home or not. Now, he was about to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch.

His pulse throbbed in his ears as he yanked off his hoodie. Satoru exhaled sharply through his nose.

Fuck it. He wasn’t backing out now.

When he emerged, you’d already stretched out, taking up more couch space than before. Your socked feet nudged the popcorn bowl toward him in silent invitation. On the TV, some actor delivered a cringe-worthy pickup line with dramatic sincerity.

“This is the part where the female lead supposedly finds him charming,” you deadpanned, tossing another kernel into your mouth. “Tell me, Satoru, would that line work on you?”

“Uh… I don’t know? It wouldn’t, maybe?”

Satoru’s knees bumped against the coffee table when he lowered himself onto the couch, leaving just enough space between you two that his shoulder wouldn’t brush against yours. Except the moment he sat, the cushions shifted, sliding him half an inch closer than he intended.

“Relax,” you said without looking away from the screen. “I don’t bite.” The corner of your mouth twitched like you knew exactly how stiff he was sitting.

You know why he’s acting like this. It’s because you haven’t been exactly a good roommate to him. You’re always bedrotting in your room and even if you went out to get a glass of water, Satoru would be in his. You both even have your schedules printed and pinned by a magnet on the fridge—they never matched up. Whenever you had vacant time, he’d be in his back-to-back lectures. And even if you two were free, you were either out with your friends and he’d be in the library, studying his ass off.

Satoru exhaled through his nose, forcing his shoulders to loosen as he grabbed a handful of popcorn. The butter coated his fingers, sticky and warm, and he focused on that sensation rather than how your knee brushed his thigh when you shifted positions.

The movie played on—some convoluted plot about mistaken identities and grand romantic gestures—but his attention kept snagging on the way your lips pursed before laughing or how your fingers curled into the hem of your hoodie whenever the protagonist did something particularly stupid.

“You’re not even watching.” You remarked halfway through a car chase scene, nudging him with your elbow.

Satoru jolted slightly. “I- uh…” His glasses slipped down his nose and he pushed them up with an absentminded flick of his finger, eyes darting back to the screen where the protagonist was now dramatically swerving through traffic. “I am watching.”

You snorted, tilting your head. “Then tell me why the billionaire CEO just jumped out of a helicopter.”

His mouth opened, then closed. The billionaire CEO had done what?

“Because…” He trailed off, scrambling for an answer. “Because… it’s symbolic?”

A laugh burst out of you, loud enough that he felt the vibration of it through the couch cushions.

“Oh my god, you’re not really watching!”

Satoru’s ears burned as you grinned at him, your knee bumping against his thigh again. The contact lingered—just a second too long—before you turned back to the screen, still chuckling. He exhaled sharply, fingers twitching against the popcorn bowl. Butter smeared his thumb so much now, but he barely registered it over the sudden awareness of your proximity. The scent of your shampoo—something faintly floral, like lavender and vanilla…

“You’re missing the best part,” you whispered, nudging his shoulder with yours. On screen, the billionaire CEO or whatsoever was now dramatically confessing his love mid-air, parachute billowing behind him like some kind of romance-novel cliché.

Your yawn cracked through the movie’s absurd climax, stretching your arms up until the hoodie rode up just enough to reveal the dip of your waist. “Well,” you sighed, rubbing at your eye with the heel of your palm, “I’m getting a little sleepy now. Are you gonna finish the movie?”

Satoru shook his head so fast his glasses nearly slid off.

“No,” he croaked, then cleared his voice when his voice cracked. “It’s terrible.”

The corner of your mouth tugged up as you unfolded yourself from the couch, knees popping audibly. “Agreed.” You stretched again, this time with a little groan that punched straight through Satoru’s gut.

“G’night, Satoru,” you hummed, already shuffling toward the kitchen with the popcorn bowl.

He stood abruptly, knees knocking the coffee table again. “Good night.”

The moment you got to the doorway of your bedroom and the door clicked shut, Satoru collapsed back onto the couch. The cushions still held the warmth of your body, the faint scent of lavender and vanilla clinging to the fabric. He dragged a hand down his face.

Few weeks later, Satoru finds himself on his gaming chair.

The glow from the monitor cast sharp shadows across his face as he hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. It was past midnight, the dorm was dead silent. He shouldn’t—he really shouldn’t—but his traitorous fingers typed the URL anyway.

The familiar black and pink interface of the website loaded with a taunting swiftness. When he clicked the ‘Hot’ tab, there she was, sultrykitty, already on live.

🔴 sultrykitty | play with me & exciting announcement!

Satoru’s breath hitched as the screen filled with the sight of her, sprawled across pink bedsheets in black lace that barely contained the swell of her tits. The lingerie were skimpy, the fabric straining with every breathy laugh she let out while her fingers traced idle circles around one peaked nipple.

“Aww, you guys are so generous tonight,” she purred.

His throat went dry when she hooked a finger under the lace and tugged, exposing more skin to the dim bedroom lighting. “Who wants to see how wet I am already?” She murmured, and his mouse hovered over the tip button before he caught himself.

“Before we really get into it tonight, kittens,” she said, deliberately dragging her fingertips down the lace of her panties with such slowness. “I’ve got something very special to share.”

The chat erupted instantly—question marks, dollar signs, and demands for her to spill already. She laughed, low and throaty, tilting her head just enough for the camera to catch the coy curve of her smirk beneath the mask.

“Next week marks my one-year anniversary on this little corner of the internet. And I thought… why not celebrate with something extra?”

Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, teasing the elastic before snapping it back against her skin.

“Here’s the deal, whoever tops my tip leaderboard tonight will be the subject for my first Fuck-a-Fan event, with the chance of being part of my livestream next week.” Her voice dripped with honeyed mischief as she leaned closer to the camera, the swell of her tits pressing against the lace. “Clocks ticking, kittens.”

Satoru didn’t know what got to him but something in him snapped. Must be the raging horniness in his system, but he was sure he wanted to join in on the challenge.

A small, C-shaped pink vibrator hummed to life in her palm after connecting it to her phone. She tapped on the phone screen twice, adjusting the intensity until the toy buzzed loud enough for the mic to pick it up, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she tested the vibration against the insides of her thighs.

“Someone’s eager,” she teased the chat, her own thighs pressed together instinctively at the sensation.

The toy slid in effortlessly, her pussy already slick from the rubbing earlier. She exhaled through her nose, fingers trembling slightly as she pushed the small pink toy deeper. The vibrator pulsed inside her, the buzzing hummed.

“Look at that,” she breathes, voice already light as she twisted the toy  halfway out, then back in.

Satoru palmed himself through his shorts, his cock already stiffening again at the sight of her skin flushing pink under the toy’s vibrations. “Who wants to see how deep I can take this?” She murmured, lifting a flesh-colored dildo with protruding veins around the shaft. She brought the toy to her mouth and sucked on it like it’s the real thing.

He pulled his cock out before he realized what he was doing, the ache in his groin overriding any rational thought.

NaughtyFrog55 tipped $2000

“Wow. Thank you, NaughtyFrog55~” She cooed. She slid the dildo lower, dragging the tip through her slick folds before pressing it just against her entrance. “Should I?” She teased, biting her lip as she glanced at the rising tip counter.

BigDaddy69 tipped $3500

“Guess that’s a yes, then.”

The toy sank in slowly, her thighs trembling as she rocked it deeper. Satoru’s own grip on his cock tightened, his breath coming in shallow bursts as she arched off the bed, one hand pinching her nipple through the lace.

Satoru knows he’s not much of a spender, hence why he called the other boys “a bunch of stupid motherfuckers” when he learned that they spent their allowances for some girl on screen.

The numbers on his screen blurred as his fingers twitched over the keyboard. He typed in an amount. It was nothing, really—just a fraction of his monthly allowance, barely noticeable among the zeroes collecting dust in his account. His parents had wired him enough to live comfortably every month, not that he ever indulged in other things other than the occasional gaming setup upgrade.

But now? Now his pulse thrummed against his throat as he watched the tip leaderboard refresh.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, clicking the payment tab. The confirmation screen loaded with excruciating slowness, his stomach twisting as the website processed the transaction.

CuriousCat tipped $5000

The cat exploded. The dildo in her hand stuttered as her eyes flicked to the notification, her lips parting in genuine surprise.

“Hmm… someone’s feeling generous tonight,” she purred, shifting against the pillows as the dildo slid deeper. “What do you want, CuriousCat? Want me to ride this harder? Or-” She tapped her phone screen, the vibrator inside her kicking up a notch. “Should I make myself cum for you right now?”

Satoru’s thick and hard cock twitched in his grip, the heat in his gut coiled tighter as she moaned—high and wanton—arching her back to take the full length of the toy. The leaderboard refreshed again, his username blazing at the top.

BigDaddy69 tipped $5500

A snarl ripped from his throat. His fingers flew across the keyboard, adding another thousand without hesitation. The chat devolved into a frenzy, users spamming shocked emojis as the numbers climbed. On screen, she laughed, breathless and delighted while rolling her hips in slow, filthy circles.

“Looks like we’ve got a competition,” she said. “Better step it up, CuriousCat.”

He would. God help him, he would.

The wet squelch of the dildo plunging in and out of her folds filled his headphones—a filthy, rhythmic sound that made Satoru’s cock twitch violently in each of his strokes. She arched off the bed, thighs trembling as she quickened her pace, the swollen veins of the toy glistening with her slick every time she pulled it out halfway before slamming it back in.

“Oh! Oh, oh- fuck,” she gasped, her free hand scrambling to fondle her breasts, her moans pitching higher with every thrust.

Chat notifications exploded across the screen, but Satoru barely registered him. His entire world narrowed to the way her hips stuttered when the vibrator inside her pulsed harder. Her throat worked around a broken whine as she fucked herself on both toys.

“Mhm- yes, yeeees, just like that,” she whispered, her voice fraying at the edges as her thighs clenched around nothing. The dildo slipped from her fingers momentarily, slick and glistening, before she grabbed it again with a shaky laugh. “Oops. Someone's—ah—making me lose my grip…!”

Satoru’s own hand moved faster, his thumb swiping over the leaking head of his cock in time with her ragged breaths.

The moment he heard her sharp inhale, Satoru knew. She was seconds away from high. His grip tightened around his cock, strokes turning brutal as he chased the same edge.

“F-Fuck, I’m-” Her voice cracked, fingers digging into the sheets as the vibrator inside her pulsed mercilessly. The dildo slipped from her grasp entirely, flopping onto the bed as her entire body seized.

Satoru came with a choked gasp, his vision whiting out as his cock twitched in his fist, spurts of hot, warm cum splattering across his stomach. His fingers trembled as he clicked something on his keyboard.

CuriousCat tipped $10000

The woman on screen was still catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly when the notification flashed. Her lips parted in genuine chock, eyes widening behind the lace mask.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “CuriousCat, you-” A disbelieving laugh escaped her as she dragged a shaky hand through her sweat-damp hair.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you next week, kitten. I’ll be sending you an e-mail for the deets!”

Satoru’s stomach dropped.

His lungs burned as if he’d been sprinting. The realization crashed over him—he’d not only spent an obscene amount of money, but he’d just won the chance to meet and fuck her. On camera.

Live.

He swallowed thickly, staring at the mess on his hands, then back to the screen.

“Fuck.”

The hotel keycard felt like it was burning a hole through Satoru’s pocket. He adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in two minutes, staring at the sleek door of Room 1207 like it might swallow him whole. His reflection in the polished brass numbers looked ridiculous—wide-eyed, flushed, his usual white shirt swapped for a button-down he’d agonized over in the mirror back at the dorm.

He even fucking bought a bouquet to make things romantic than they seem.

His thumb hovered over the door sensor. He could still leave. Could still pretend he’d chickened out, that CuriousCat had ghosted her. But his stomach twisted at the thought of her—sitting in that room alone, waiting for some faceless stranger who’d paid to fuck her.

The keycard beeped. The lock clicked.

The first thing he sees is the tripod, then the camera and sleek laptop on the table. The figure sitting on the edge of the bed turned—slowly—and Satoru’s blood turned to ice.

The robe slipped from her shoulders as she stood, red lace clinging to her curves. The mask was gone, but the smirk was painfully familiar. Satoru’s knees locked. The keycard slipped from his fingers and hit the carpet with a dull thud.

“Satoru?”

The silence was absolute.

It was as if fate was fucking you up real bad. Your highest tipper is your fucking nerd roommate.

You laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound that bounced off the room walls before clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you wheezed, shoulders shaking as you doubled over. “Oh my fucking god-” Another peal of laughter escaped, high and slightly unhinged, while Satoru stood there like a deer in headlights, the bouquet of roses dangling limply from his hand.

“CuriousCat? Are you serious, Satoru?”

Satoru’s ears burned so hot he was surprised they weren’t steaming. His feet moved backward before his brain caught up. “T-This is a mistake-” His voice cracked like he’d swallowed glass, fingers loosening around the bunch of roses still clutched in his fist. “I should—I should go. I’m sorry-”

You crossed the room in three strides, bare feet thumping on the carpet.

“No! No, don’t leave,” you said, fingers curling around his wrist before he could bolt. The contact sent a jolt through him, his pulse hammering under your grip.

Up close, he could see a smudge of mascara under your eyes. Proof you had already done your makeup for the stream. He took a whiff of the scent of your perfume—vanilla and something sharper, like champagne.

Satoru’s throat worked silently. The bouquet’s wrapper crinkled in his grip.

You tilted your head, studying him with an intensity that made his stomach flip. “You spent ten thousand dollars just to walk out?” A slow, wicked grin spread across your lips. “That’s really pathetic, Satoru.”

His glasses fogged.

Your fingers curled into the front of Satoru’s button down before he could blink, dragging him forward until the roses crushed between your bodies. The scent of petals mixed with the sharp, heady musk of his cologne. His breath hitched when your knee nudged between his thighs, pressing just enough to make him twitch against you.

“Maybe fuck the livestream,” you murmured against his mouth, your hand sliding down to palm him through his slacks.

You kissed him like you were starving. Teeth and tongue and no patience. Satoru’s hands fluttered useless at his sides before gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. The taste of him was unexpectedly sweet.

Your grip on his shirt tightened as you nipped at his lower lip, a low hum vibrating in your throat when he groaned. The control was slipping—Satoru could feel it in the way your hips rocked against your waist, in the sharp little exhales puffing against his skin.

Then, in one deliberate motion, he stepped forward. You stumbled back with a surprised noise, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the mattress. Satoru didn’t let go—not until your thighs pressed into the bed.

“Wait-” You started, but the word dissolved into a breathy laugh as he pushed you down, your hair fanning across the crisp white sheets.

Satoru hovered over you, one knee planted between your thighs. “You always talk too much,” he murmured, voice rough. His fingers traced the edge of your lace bra. “Always teasing.” The pad of his thumb brushed your nipple through the fabric. You arched into his touch.

“Satoru-”

The sound of his name, wrecked and wanting, unraveled something in him. He kissed you again, deeper this time, swallowing your moan as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. The lace stretched taut.

Satoru pulled back just enough to shrug off his button-down in one sharp motion, the fabric sliding down to pool on the floor. Your breath hitched.

Where the hell had those abs been hiding? The sharp V of his hips disappeared into his slacks, his chest and arms corded with lean muscle that flexed as he reached down to remove his slacks.

“You’ve been hiding that under those hoodies?” You blurted, eyes skimming the defined ridges of his stomach.

You always knew you got hots for your nerd roommate.

The sheets crumpled beneath you as Satoru’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, his knuckles brushing the sensitive skin of your hips. Then, he tugged them down.

“You’ve watched me do this before,” you whispered.

The mattress dipped under Satoru’s weight as he pushed you further back, his hands sliding under your thighs with a roughness that made your breath catch. He didn’t break eye contact. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you wider until the cold air of the room hit your slick folds.

You expected hesitation from him. Awkwardness. Not the way his tongue swiped up your slit in one long, filthy stroke that arched your back off the sheets.

“Fuck, Toru-” Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at the white strands as his mouth sucked your clit with such precision.

His glasses pressed uncomfortably against your thigh, but the discomfort evaporated when he curled two fingers inside you, crooking them just right to drag a broken moan from your throat.

The vibrations of his answering groan against your clit sent shocks through your limbs. He was relentless—lapping and slurping at your juices like he was starving. The wet sounds were obscene and when you dared to glance down, the sight of his flushed face buried between your thighs short-circuited your thoughts.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he rasped against your skin, his breath hot.

The admission punched a ragged laugh out of you before his mouth returned with renewed urgency, his fingers speeding up in a rhythm that matched the desperate roll of your hips. Your thighs trembled around his head.

“I’m gonna cum! Oh, shit, I’m-”

Satoru’s response was to sink his teeth into your inner thigh, the sharp sting tipping you over the edge with a cry that echoed off the walls. He didn’t let up, drinking down every twitch and pulse as you came apart beneath him, his fingers milking you through it until your legs shook too violently to hold them open.

Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean as he surveyed the mess he’d made of you. His glasses were askew, his hair a disaster.

“Want more?” He asked, voice soft.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hands were on you again. His touch was maddeningly light—barely there, and you squirmed, fingers clawing at the sheets.

“Please, hurry up.”

“Ah-ah. Patience.”

His fingers traced idle patterns up your stomach, skirting the underside of your breasts before finally cupping one through the lace. He rubbed slow circles over your nipple, the fabric rough against the hardened peak.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he said. His fingers hooked into the straps of your bra. Luckily, the clasps were at the front—his fingers found them immediately. The cool air hit your bare nipples. “Better.”

You couldn’t wrap your head around whether the person in front of you is truly your nerd roommate back at the dorms. Satoru was always quiet and sheepish around you—tripping over his word when you’d talk to him. If you didn’t know him better, you would think he’s a whole lot different person.

Satoru hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, his gaze locked onto yours as he pushed them down. The fabric slid past his hips—and holy fuck—your eyes widened at the sight of him springing free. Thick, veined, and already leaking at the tip, his cock stood at attention, the flushed red head glistening with pre-cum.

He smirked, an expression so foreign on his usually shy face. He wrapped around his length, giving him slow, teasing strokes that made you almost drool.

“Like what you see?”

You reached out without thinking, your fingers brushing against the heated skin of his shaft. It was intoxicating—the weight heavy down as you traced a thumb over the swollen head, smearing the bead of pre-cum around it.

“Need you inside me,” you whimpered. “Please.”

Satoru gripped his cock then dragged it through your slick folds with a groan. He slapped his length against your clit once, twice—before rubbing the tip in slow circles that had your hips jerking off the mattress.

“Fuck, look at you,” he pushed his glasses up, then swiped a finger through your wetness. His glasses were fogged, his usually neat hair sticking to his forehead as he lined himself up. “So fucking wet for me.”

You braced yourself for the pressure. Satoru didn’t ease in, he sheathed himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke, your back arching as your walls clenched around him. His hips stuttered, a broken groan escaping him.

“Shiiit… you’re tight,” he gritted out, fingers digging into your hips hard.

You barely had time to adjust before he pulled out almost entirely, only to slam back in with a snap of his hips that made your vision blur. The pace was relentless from the very start—no teasing—as if he had been waiting for this.

One particularly sharp angle had you seeing stairs, your nails raking down his back as he hit that spot just right. Satoru hissed at the sting, his rhythm faltering for a split second before he redoubled his efforts, his thumb finding your clit to rub rough circles that matched the pace of his hips.

“Mhmmm—nnghh!” you could only mumble your way through the ferocious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease!”

Drool trickled down your mouth and dripped on the sheets below you. His pace never faltered—quick and unrelenting. Until it stuttered but he made sure that in every thrust, the tip of his cock would hit the entrance of your cervix like a kiss.

The grip on your hipbone tightened as Satoru suddenly rolled you onto your side, his movements startlingly oozing with confidence. One strong hand hitched your leg up over his shoulder, spreading you obscenely wide while his other arm pinned your waist down against the mattress. The angle was brutal. Every thrust now dragged his cock along your clenching walls.

“Look at you,” Satoru panted, his glasses fogged as he fucked you into oblivion. “Taking me so deep like this, fuuuck- you feel so good.” The wet slap of skin grew louder as he picked up pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each snap.

His glasses had slid crookedly down his nose, sweat beading along his forehead as he held himself there, buried deep, while his fingertips dug crescent moons into the flesh of your thigh.

“I’m close. I’m so close—can I cum inside? Please?”

You barely recognized the desperate, unraveled version of him. The way his cock twitched inside you, the frantic flutter of his pulse beneath your palm when you slid a hand up his chest.

Your head bobbed in response. “Yes! O-Oh my god, yes!”

Satoru’s entire body tensed then he flipped you on your back, completely facing him again. He shoved your thighs wider, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise as he fucked deep into you.

The first spurt of warmth flooding you pulled a choked out moan from your throat. His head dropped to the hollow of your neck, his groans vibrating against your skin as he pumped his cum deep, his cock pulsing inside you.  You clenched around him reflexively, milking him through it until his fingers trembled where they gripped you.

“Yeah… fuck, you feel so fucking good,” his words dissolved into a shuddering exhale, his forehead pressing against your damp skin as he rode out the aftershocks. “I’ll fill you up reaaal good.”

He came so much you could feel him leaking around the edges where you were still joined, the wet sound filthy when he finally pulled out with a wince. His cum oozed out of your flushed pussy almost immediately, the sight of it pulling a dazed laugh from you. Satoru’s ears burned redder than you’d ever seen them.

His hand shook as he pushed his glasses up his nose, his chest still heaving.

“That was…”

You arched a brow, stretching lazily beneath him as you dragged a finger through the mess between your folds. “Speechless?”

Satoru’s grin hit you like a lightning strike. Before you could even process the sudden shift in his expression, his arms hooked under your knees and shoulders, lifting you off the bed with such strength.

“Hey! Put me down! I’m still sore!”

Your protest dissolved into breathless laughter as he carried you through the suite then to the bathroom. The sudden brightness made you squint.

“Nah uh. I want round two.”