GUY

You eye him suspiciously, not even sure if this man is a real employee. Half of you wants to believe he's a random guy who got a concussion and stumbled into an abandoned store, thinking he was clocking in for work. His plain off-white sweater and black cargo pants certainly doesn't look like any uniform you've ever seen.

Suddenly, he barks out a laugh. "No fuckin' way. You checkin' me out right now?"

You shake your head incredulously, which hurts your brain, but you think you're too irritated to be so concerned about how it makes your vision blurry for a second. "Are you out of your mind?" You ask him, your volume raising slightly in frustration.

"I think I see what you mean by wanting something good for your head now, sweetheart." He smirks, his entire demeanor suddenly changing as he shifts in his spot to lean over the counter.

"Oh, my god. Fuck you."

"That too. I can do that."

You stare at him, not saying a word. Shock, surprise, any other synonym that might exist for those words, you're feeling it. You're sure now, you might kill this man.

A beat, then he speaks. His voice quieter, and seemingly more serious. "You really sure you're not a cop?"

You sigh again, unmoving other than the up and down of your chest. Finally shaking your head as you shut your eyes in an effort to calm yourself.

"Hm," he thinks to himself and you open your eyes, "I got some good stuff in the back. C'mere."

You blink, but instead of getting to question him further, he's already gone. He doesn't even wait to direct you, just moving behind the swinging door towards the employee area of the drugstore.

Your body feels weak, you're almost certain if you stay standing in this spot, you'll slump over the counter and stay there 'till you pass out. Your bones somehow feel half as dense as they were before, and your chest pain is sure to give you a heart attack. But following an incredibly strange man into an incredibly strange room of an incredibly strange old shop? Were you really that desperate? Leaning over to get a good peek through the small window on the backdoor, you catch him standing at an open entrance to another room toward the right. There seemed to be a bright spotlight shining right on him from inside. His chiseled face and messy black hair looked model-worthy. You think to yourself that it's too bad he's deranged.

Then as if he could feel your curious gaze on him, he swivels his head around to look right back at you, smirking again. And when you find yourself pushing on that same backdoor, following him despite the sensible part of your brain, you ignore the answer to your question. You are, in fact, desperate.

"You smoke, right?" You hear him ask you.

"What?"

He deadpans at you, almost annoyed. "You smoke weed?"

As you turn the corner and walk into the room with him, you have to shield your eyes from the glaring bright lights above you. "Oh! Holy fuck, dude." Then, the smell hits you. You're not sure how it didn't before, you've been incredibly sensitive to strong odors ever since you got your headache, but nonetheless it hits now. And fuck, does it smell good.

You hear him bark out a laugh. "Shit, my bad. Here, I'll pack you somethin' while you stand out there 'n wait. You can turn off the lights if it's botherin' you so bad."

As you reach for the switch he almost shouts, his voice raising in volume but his tone sounding more fed up than angry. "Not this room you fuckin' psycho! I just told you. Out. There."

You have the urge to yell back of course, but your body screams at you to walk out and sit on the couch you spotted in what seems to be an employee lounge.

You grumble, but turn around and exit. He smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and grumbles to himself as well. You can make out some words behind you, "kill my plants" "crazy fuck", but you're not sure if you care. As you pass the big counter in the middle of the room, flicking the light switch near the door that leads back out to the main floor, and slump down on the cushion, you can feel your body relax a bit. You decide to get a good look at your surroundings, maybe to decipher if this is a bad dream or not. You notice the dozens of shelves with various pill bottles and store bought drugs lining every wall, the room illuminated by the huge lights in the room that man is in. Though, you don't know for sure, you start to suspect they're either fakes or empty. You look over at that big marble counter you passed on your way towards the tiny employee lounge corner.

It finally dawns on you that this entire back room seems much cleaner and well-maintained than the actual shop area out front. Then it clicks, and you feel stupid. This is a front, and he's a drug dealer.

"Do you wanna bong or a joint? Or, never mind. Shut up, joint's better for you."

You can feel your brain pulsing. "Yeah, whatever." You reply, not having the energy to care at this point who he is, as long as he can provide you some relief.

He leans against the white counter while he rolls green in some yellow-ish paper between his fingers. "Y'know, I was expectin' more push-back. D'you actually smoke?"

You sigh. "I just want something for my head." Ignoring the quiet laugh he lets out through a puff of his nose, you watch his hands work. Despite how large and intimidating they are, he seems to be less rough and more meticulous than you thought. That shit-eating smirk forms on his handsome face as he lets you gaze at him. But you don't realize it, still watching him finish up what's supposed to be your medicine for the day.

"You got a lighter?" He asks, finally done rolling.

"Don't think so." You answer plainly.

"What. You don't have a fuckin' lighter? R'you serious?"

It's quiet for a moment, awkward and tense. You know you should probably feel uneasy, unsafe, maybe even scared as he stares you down with that pointed look on his face. But all you feel is irritation. You're starting to lose whatever little patience you had left with this man, and you're sure you'd get yourself killed if you tried fighting him but it did sound like a good way to let loose some built up frustration.

"Relax, I'm kiddin'. Jesus, looked like you wanted to kill me." He hands you the joint, almost smiling. "Here."

You glare at him, slowly taking the spiff and rotating your wrist in order to get a good luck at it.

He starts, "It's not laced, if that's what you're wonderin'," you glance up at him suspiciously.

"It's really not. That'd take so much effort. Being nice is easier this time."

You don't catch his usage of the words this time, instead extending your arm forward with your palm up. He assumes what you're waiting for is something to spark the joint, but the way you keep your eyes on it the whole time, disregarding him like all he's here for is handing you a fire source. All he's good for is servicing you. That's hot.

He digs in his pocket and hands you a shiny, silver Zippo lighter, biting down a smirk at how much the exchange just turned him on.

You bring it towards you, still not paying him a single glance, paying more attention to the engraving you catch on the metal frame. "Fushiguro?" You read aloud.

He doesn't make a single sound. If you didn't have him right there in front of you, you'd assume he suddenly vanished. You look up at him, almost to make sure he's still there, and when you make eye contact he looks away and clears his throat. "Yeah, my name. But don't call me that. Call me Toji."

You nod, looking back down at the joint in your hands before bringing it to your lips and lighting it. He raises an eyebrow in amusement at how much you inhale, not sure it that's from you being seasoned in blazing or your desperation to get rid of your headache. After your hit, you hand it over to him. "Thanks, Toji." You say as you exhale.

There's a pause before he takes the joint, he gets a good look at you. The smoke floating out of your mouth, your half-lidded eyes trying not to catch too much light, the way your body moves as you lean back on the cushion behind, relaxing. "Do you wanna know my name?" You ask. He can't count on his hands the amount of stupid ideas he's had in his life, and this won't be the last. But it most certainly will be one of the best. Or worst, depending on how you react.

"You're not inhaling it right." He takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs. "Like this."

Taking a seat in the spot next to you, Toji brings a hand up to your jaw, directing you to face him. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull back. You can feel your heart racing at the simple motion. Any satisfying ease you felt on your head from the instant effects of the marijuana leaves you as you your head pulses once again.

You let the huge man lean in, close enough for your lips to graze before he stops. One part of you knows better. This is a ridiculously dangerous situation. Letting a possible — no definite — drug dealer kiss you while you're alone in the backrooms of his business front is crazy. You'd be crazy to let this happen.

But the wisps of smoke slowly escaping his mouth as he waits for you to make the next move, less than inches away from you as you smell the weed from his lips. You almost grow hungry at the scent. Something in you needs this more than you care to admit.

You lift your head slightly just to get a bit closer, your noses are fully brushing against each other. Toji has to resist every bone in his body from moving forward, grabbing you, and taking what he wants. It'd be too easy for him.

But you. You get a stronger whiff of the joint as he shifts his hand an inch while next to you. You can't deny the way it practically makes your mouth drool. It's too much, you realize finally that you need it more than you've ever needed anything, and close the gap.

Your lips dance with his, desperate but gentle. It's a pleasant surprise that sends a warm feeling right to your gut. You can feel the smoke being pushed from his mouth to yours as his tongue sneaks its way in with it. Toji groans low, and almost quiet, as you do your best to let the drug sink down your lungs. It has instant results, immediately starting to calm the ache of your chest and your head. He pulls away with that same smirk as you huff when you feel your medicine escape your grasp. You didn't even realize you'd started holding him.

"It's strong, huh?" He asks, his smirk shifting into a smile. Toji keeps his eyes on you, not even acknowledging the growing tent in his baggy pants. You lick your lips as you stare at the joint, he laughs. "Oh, fuck. What, r'you using me for weed or somethin'?"

You scoff out a laugh at that, and Toji feels his pants get tighter as your smile grows to a lazy grin. You're getting stoned.

"Yeah, I am. Be good 'n let me hit again?" You say it as a joke, but you can feel the weight of your words as the air gets thicker. When you bring your eyes up to look at his face, you notice the faintest dusty red on his cheeks. Much lighter than the growing red in his eyes.

"What if I did.." He starts, "But you can only hit if you let me hit."

—-

You're not sure exactly when the line was crossed. Maybe it was when you smoked the roach Toji said he would finish, as he suspected you had enough.

Perhaps it was the moment you leaned in for a second kiss and intentionally accidentally brushed your hand against his crotch.

Or probably when you fully got on his lap to try and seduce him into giving you more weed.

"R'you beggin'?" He asked you.

You giggled, your pain something much easier to ignore after finishing that joint but still present. Now more annoying than anything else. "Nnnooo, I'm making a deal with you."

He peered at you through half-lidded eyes, smirking. "What's the deal?"

You shook your head and fully laughed this time. "Your deal. It's your deal. You made it." You explained.

"I agree. I'll.." You leaned down to whisper in his ear, full confidence in you from the moment you saw the bulge in his black cargo pants. "I'll let you, if you let me."

You think that it's probably the moment you set foot in the employee area you should consider as your big mistake, but as you look down at Toji with a dripping tongue and flushed look on his face, you're not sure you care anymore. He gets up from his knees and places a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You can taste a mix of sex and weed as he does, and it drives you mad.

"So good." He chuckles, smiling against your lips. "God damn."

You smile back, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting them on his shoulders. He pulls away to look at you. The man can barely see you with the only light being from the green room, but he can tell, you look a mess already.

There's a hazy look in your eyes and a lazy look on your face. If you weren't holding yourself up using Toji's body, he's certain you'd fall back and hit your head on the counter. The thought of it urges him to place both his hands on the small of your back. You relax into his touch.

"S'that all? Cat got your tongue?" You ask him, your voice almost quiet and airy. As he tilts his head down towards you and opens his mouth to speak, you feel another wave pass through your head. This time, not a painful pounding, but a buzzing dizziness. A warmth spreads through your chest down to your gut, swirling down further until you throw your head back and moan softly.

In time, you realize he's stopped talking and you haven't registered a word he's said. "Oh- shit." And not only that, but you can finally feel what he's doing with the hand that disappeared from your back.

"Good strain, yeah?" He asks you, his voice low and scratchy from getting you ready for one of his fingers. "Feels nice takin' two, doesn't it?"

Your eyebrows quirk up as you shoot your head forward to take a look for yourself. He does, in fact, have two fingers fucking you and you just hadn't realized. The sight of them penetrating you, and the feeling inside as he started to curl his digits upward, makes you bite your lip and smile. And the sight of you watching happily as he fucks you, makes Toji's growing ache in his pants unbearable.

His head drops and he shuts his eyes in hopes of calming himself down, thinking to himself that he might've smoked too much in an effort to be chill and cool in front of you. More than anything, he just doesn't wanna cum in his pants. Not untouched. Not while he can ruin you with his cock, shoot his seed all over your body like a canvas to paint, stuff you full with—

"Fuck, my alarm." He hears you curse first, feels you unwrap your arms from around him, then he finally hears the ringing from the pocket of your pants lying on the floor beneath him. You almost whine, and he furrows his brow before looking at you. "Shit, I— fuck.. I have a party to go to tonight. I forgot."

He snaps his head back up to you, the rhythm of his hand stuttering but still going on. "Fuck, that party." He tries to laugh off, looking back down only to catch your hips slowing in pace. You laugh back, but ultimately shake you head.

"My friends are— mmh.. are waiting for me."

Fuck your friends.

"I still have to pick up food for.. for— to bring."

Fuck that. You're not leaving.

You furrow your brows at him, he doesn't even seem to realize he said that out loud. "What?"

Toji doesn't answer you with words, instead filling the silence with wet sounds picking up in pace. Toji fucks you on his hand harder and faster and before you can say anything, he removes his other hand from the small of your back. You have to catch yourself. While you're now in a leaning position—both your hands behind you, pressed on the white counter top—the big man in front of you takes a tiny device out of his pocket, bringing it up to your lips. "Open."

You do as he asks immediately, your head feeling a spin at your own obedience.

"Suck on it, like a joint."

Your lips close around the tip of the pen, and quickly, you realize sucking on a dab like a joint isn't a good idea. Exhaling, you feel a sudden scratchiness in your throat, throwing you into a coughing fit. Toji chuckles, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to the nape of your neck. He leaves love bites where he kisses you and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "There it is. Good job, baby." He whispers.

You shake your head, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. "What the fuck, Toji? I don't want— nggh, any.. any more. I have to go."

You hear him huff before inserting another finger and keeping that bullying pace on your gummy walls. "Oh— fuck!" You cry out, suddenly ultra sensitive from just the movement inside you.

"Let it hit you. Let that shit fuck you up, pretty." At this, he's nipping at the skin of your ear. "Don't fight it."

You try to resist, whining and now struggling against him. "Didn't you want this, babe? Hit for a hit, right? That was your idea."

He has one hand preoccupied while the other is wrapped around your bicep, gripping you still like a flimsy fuck toy. "If you fight it, I'll break you 'till you can't." A broken cry escapes your throat, and he laughs.

"Mmm.. no, n-no no." You stutter out. Slowly but harshly, a new level of high plants itself in your psyche, and you're all kinds of fucked up now. As someone with more experience than the average stoner, Toji laughs at the glossed over look in your eyes when he realizes what he's done.

"Oh, fuck yes." Removing the tight hold he has on your arm, Toji palms himself through his pants, also pulling his fingers out from you and laying you down on the counter. "Needed this. So fucking bad."

You can hear the rustling of fabric, but can't do anything about it. And with how good you're feeling, you're not sure if you want to.

"Fuckin' leave me? For a fuckin' party? Crazy slut." Toji strokes himself in a loose and lazy fist, wiping his pre all over his own dick. Smirking with a noticeable amount of crazy in his eyes. He's desperate, horny like a pervert and desperate like it's carnal. "Feel too good not to fuck you properly, baby. You're not goin' anywhere."

You feel a light tapping, almost slapping, against your hole and finally find the strength to pick your head up. You watch as Toji spits on you, rubbing his shaft against the wet spot and groaning. You squirm, but one of his hands finds its way to your thigh as he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin as warning. "Don't run from it, slut. 'M gonna make you feel real good."

Suddenly, you can feel a stretch inside you that sends waves of electricity surging throughout your body. You're twitching, shaking, cumming on—

Cumming—?

"Ohh, shhit, baby. Ohoh holy fuck!" You can hear his voice breaking as he keeps going, pushing deeper and deeper into of you. Somehow, you manage to find a sweetness in how slow he's going. When in reality, it's just to keep himself from shooting ropes inside you too early. "Squeezin' me so tight, fuuuck yes. K-knew you'd be a good cockwhore f'me."

You're almost certain you're gonna pass out. As he stretches your legs apart further to reach deeper depths, there's a rush of blood that flows to your head. You think you're having a heart attack with how hard and fast its pounding. All you wanted was some sort of relief, anything that would either help with the pain or knock you out cold for a few hours 'till it blew over. Instead, the universe brought you to a shady drugstore in the middle of the city where you've had the crazy fucking luck of meeting this guy. Now, he's got you crying, shouting, practically screaming out his name as he plows into you relentlessly. So much for sweetness.

"Fuck you like a ragdoll." You hear him groan. "Fuck you like m-my bitch. Fuck you forever 'n ever 'n ever."

Tears run down your face from the mere overstimulation of his abdomen rubbing against you as he rails you. His pubic hair tickles your skin as both his hands let go of their death grip on your thighs and tug your shirt off of your body, manhandling you. Once off, his mouth finds quick purchase on your nipple. Sucking and licking. Though orally he seems to be just as gentle as before, his hand works your other nipple rough and mean. Squeezing and tugging.

You gasp and squeal at the sensations as you feel a white rush spreading through you. Your legs kick reflexively, your hands slap and pull at his shirt sleeves. You feel your vision getting cloudy and your lungs slow its deep and quick breathing. "Fuck, fuck— baby? You gonna cum on my dick while you black out? Oh, shit. So fuckin' hot." His hips stutter but still is the pace of his lust, chasing his own orgasm as he fucks you 'till you lose consciousness.

Your body writhes and shakes once more under him until you feel yourself falling asleep.

"Just a little— fuck, just a little more babe." Toji slows his hips to a more casual movement, only to slam into you with even more power than before. "C'mon, pretty thing, c'mon."

It seems to be only a moment. Toji wants badly to make this last as long as possible, but he's never felt like a patient person before, and he figures there's no use in trying now.

"Wake the fuck up, slut." He slaps you straight across your face, successfully bringing you right back from your forced slumber, bottoming out inside you. "Need you awake while I f-fuck it into you."

Waking up to the intense feeling of Toji Fushiguro's cock pushing against your g-spot and his hands gripping your hips to keep your pressed against him almost does you over, but it's not until you hear his voice break in a mantra of apologies and thank you's that you feel your second release crash down onto you through waves.

He follows soon after, strings of his seed filling you up as the two of you mix your DNA together. Fucking you through it until you're both shaking and twitching from the pleasure.

"Oh, fuck." He scoffs and sighs."Ohohoh, fuck."

When you come to, you realize how desperately you need water right now. Your throat is hoarse, but you laugh with him. The both of you bring your gazes towards each other, panting like crazy. He's smiling at you as you resist mirroring it. "If I was really.. a cop," you drag your words, still incredibly high for someone who just had a strong enough orgasm to sober you up.

"I would arrest you. I'd arrest.. you if— if I could." You finally manage get your sentence out. And as much as you want to be taken seriously, as much as you want an acknowledgment for what he did to you, you laugh as he does. "S-stop, no. I'm serious, Toji! That was fucked up!"

He's instantly there again, at the nape of your neck, kissing and licking and leaving soft pecks over the bruised marks he's left on you. "Yeah, so fucked up." He agrees, his hands roaming over you body gently, carefully like you're something precious.

"It was.." It was bad, he'd taken advantage of you. Drugged you, fucked you while you begged him to stop. Any sensible part of you would know better, but you haven't felt a logical decision leave your head since you got your headache, and now—under the influence of the weed—you feel like a completely different person. Like every single thing that has happened since you walked into this fake drug store has been separate from your everyday life. It can't be bad when you feel so good, like you're living a fantasy out before you have to go to work when the weekend ends. You breathe out, feeling a twitch in your hips as he starts licking at a spot right below your ear. "Toji.. fuck, mmh."