tori

Five years further from tragedy, every second closer to Duncan. That oath was long forgotten since he's met you, turned to fucking ash. Took you under his wing to raise you right, "proper training for the real world," he says. Whatever that means. He swore he'd never let a thing harm you, even if it meant sacrificing himself and his morals. He'd never expect you to repay him, it's not your responsibility to bare, at least it wasn't when you had to lay by his side for warmth, now you've grown accustomed to it, to admit it is one thing, to like it is another.

"Lunch," He mumbles, placing a hearty bowl of goulash paired with a side of mashed potatoes, delectable. "Specially for my girl," He ruffles your hair as you reach for the utensils across the table. It wasn't a lot to work with, yet he's given you the best. He displaces the resting cigarette from his mouth down to the stove, letting it light the butt up, he takes a long drag to recharge, closing his eyes as he enjoys his dinner. You chow down at the food like you always do, he gazes at you longingly, like he always does. This time it's completely different.

He breaks past your personal space to the dish he's prepared, his palm rests against the back of your hand, your wood chopping scars look like papercuts compared to his, laboured and scathed to give you a comfortable life.

You gasp, feeling the cold air around you grow humid, eyes widening. Not his first time expressing affection, no. Not his first time making you feel this dizzy, either. Sure, hypothermia causes you to see stars, just not the ones Duncan causes, ones like sparks from a gunshot. He savours a bit of the goulash, eyes shut to reminisce all his warmest memories, occasional drives downtown, reading a book by the fireplace, hugging you for comfort.

His pupils dilate, he flinches slightly as he breaks away. There is no fucking way in Hell he's even thinking about that last part in a "sweet", "happy and homey" way. No, he's finding solace in fisting his dick while you laid in bed by him, clueless of his intentions, expressions - the things he's wanted to do to you.

He rests on the swingset he built you the same day he's seen you circle on one of those old-ass catalogue books. By now, he's on his second stick, reaching into his pockets to find a light.

You join him after a while, "I did the dishes," You tremble at the cold, always a first time experience with it, Duncan pushes away before he cups his hand into a tight fist, his nails dig at his skin, accepting his fate. He can't stray past an already remote distance, any more and the bad guys will set out to get you, that's all you know, it's all you've heard. "It was amazing, thanks, Dad." Now you're exchanging roles, you break past his personal space to lean by his shoulder, you reach into your pocket, the lighter crackles as you light his cigarette. It'd be wrong to admit that he's proud of you, not like gentle parenting is in his cards anyways. "Mm," He hums, pleased. "Go inside, I'll join you in a bit." He instructs, you do as you're told, the weight of the snow dips, growing shallow for every step you take back to the cabin.

Duncan is a simple man — he's content living the way he is, been years since he's fucked, let alone get a girl to moan his name, it'd been a shocker to know that he can still get his dick up, it took him long enough, just until he'd met you. He likes to watch from afar, he watches you at a comfortable distance to not harm you, to watch you cluelessly angle yourself in positions where he could just rip off that nightdress of yours, get you to transition from "Dad," to "Daddy." Zero to a hundred in his head.

He puts the cigarette out, flicking it down to the snowy compound. He walks back to the cabin, pinching the bridge of his nose, he deserves a comeuppance for thinking like this, gun to the temple if you ever resented him for touching you. He shuts the door, loud enough for you to hear it.

The pale moonlight transpires after ages of hiding behind the foggy clouds. Duncan feels odd tonight, especially since you've debuted a cute minidress, it's a warm night in the cabin, the fireplace rages with the mixture of coal and wood burning. You head past the corner of the cabin to show Duncan, hair slithering to your shoulder as you give him a twirl.

He's watching like a rabid dog, it doesn't show past his mind, but holy fuck, it's like the devil's playing mind tricks on him. You would've expected a better response from him, annoyed, you inch closer to Duncan, resting on his lap, he feels as your panty clad ass rubs against the fabric of his pants, his throat bobs in fear.

"Dad, don't you ever feel alone up here?" You ask out of curiosity.  He can't just tell you as it is, right? Porn is a passable material here, as taboo as it is, no hooker is willing to freeze her tits off for a measly $20. "Yeah, it does — nothing I can do about it, either." He jokes, despondent as he grows older. "No one wants to fuck an old man, either." He lays all his cards on the table. "Everyone? Is that true, dad?" You play dumb, literally, it's not just for sure, you're just a very speculative girl with zero context clues. "Yeah, everyone, now go to bed," He retorts gruffly, "I'll be with you in a minute." You don't give up, yet you listen to him like you always do.

You hop on the bed like a bunny, inundated with the amount of blankets and throw-overs, you cast some of the fabric aside, leaving room for Duncan to lay closer to you. Just as you finish doing so, he softens the contrast of the lamp, strips himself until he's just wearing his sweats, he joins you, only at a distance, feasible enough for you to savour him, imagining your nails scratch at his back, tracing red marks over the ones that have just healed.

And so you do. You trail your nail over the hump of his back, slithering over his neck, you press kisses at his scruffy beard, feeling the hairs nick at your skin, your thigh rides up to his waist, "Jesus," He moans, manhandling you with ease, he lies flat, gets you to lay where his knees are, just past his dick, hard, it's hitting his stomach like it owes him money. You bite your lip at the sight, no fucking way you've been sleeping next to him without curiosity spilling and sticking like honey on the sheets, memory foam holds a heavy impression.

"Dad," You wail,

"What was that?"

"Dad," Once more.

He smacks the flesh of your ass, groping it to soothe the scarlet brand.

"Daddy," You sob out.

"That's what I thought." Honest to him, he hates it, hates the thought of it, hates the way they do it in porn, it's so forced, not even the same nose, same eyes, and they've got spirit. You definitely climbed up the ranks tenfold, nice to hear it come from you, nice to hear how reassuringly gross and fucked up his actions are, nice to hear how you reciprocate.

He slips his hand past the band of his sweats, lowering it as you scratch his stomach out of a gruelling mix of desire and fear. He interlocks the fingers of his free hand with yours, off a tangent to reassure you.

His cock slaps at the base of your pussy, he hums keenly, teasing you at your clothed clit, you bite your lip out of hunger. He looks up at you, savouring his little girl's movements, her miniscule reactions — twitching, moaning, shivers as he peels the fabric, pulls it to the side, you shift your hips slightly upwards, giving him more room to slide his dick in, which he does inadvertently, you're just too wet, Duncan is caught off guard, a breathy moan escapes his lips as well as yours. "Fuck," a small giggle at the end of his cue.

Up, down, up, maybe move into a more comfortable position, this one is kicking your ass, you lay by the flat side of his palms, he caresses your waist as he guides you, "Like that, you're doing so good," he praises, it's genuine, like all the times he's been proud of you.

"Dad, dad," You mewl, Duncan's eyes flutter shut, he's shocked to find that you take him so easily, more than that, he hates that he loves hearing you call him that — he does deserve a bullet through that skull of his. "Like that, sweetie?" You lose your composure. From holding his hands, you slip past it, luckily enough you manage to position your hands by either sides of his head, good enough for him. The two of you gain momentum, Duncan thrusts, the fervor piles on. The sounds of moans and skin slapping hits the air, it echoes like the howling winds right outside.

"Kiss me," He orders, you oblige needlessly. You sink in closer to Duncan, kissing him hungrily, he laps at your tongue with primal desire, lips pressing, his hand is at the back of your head. reeling you in closer to savor you a little more. He thrusts harder, the momentum is steady, but he's cracking at your cervix, Duncan evidently grows closer, you push away, "Dad— need to pull out," God knows where you've learned to talk that way, you didn't need it, the birds and the bees thing happened once yet you know your lines better than a pornstar. "You're– fuck, you're right," It just occured to him, yet he doesn't even act on it, pulling you closer like he's begging the inexistent gods to impregnate you, maybe one or two more rounds until it takes.

Duncan grows weak which makes it easier for you to pull out, you watch as his cum rivulet down your thighs. Breath heaving, you strip the dress off of yourself, it has no use, could look better clean instead of being tossed to the side after Duncan would very likely jerk off to it, you like that more than you'd admit, but you're better off with Dad cumming in and on you instead.

You lay on your side of the bed, by now Duncan grows hard again and your eyes widen, body jolting slightly, he grips at your wrists, cuffing you lightly, he pulls you to the end of his side of the bed, by the fireplace where you glow like ember. He gets on both knees, "Dad wants to eat you out, sweetheart, can he?" He questions, not like he's gonna take no for an answer, even if you're weary, you doubt this would resurface, so you oblige. He watches you nod, teeming with excitement, it doesn't show, a common occurrence.

The broad of his tongue savours you past your flesh, like a sapling, you tremble as he spits on your clit, slick coating your walls as he repeatedly bullies your poor, swollen pussy, it's overstimulated, yet you don't give out. "Dad," You whine, "it's too much, gonna cum," He won't complain if you do, it's unjust if you don't.

"Look at me," You're slightly dumbfounded, mind evidently hazy, your lower lip is left hanging, drool flows, the thick of it hangs at the end, shaking with constant momentum, Duncan orders once more, "Look at me when you cum, got it?" You stare at him, heavy lidded, he watches as your breathing grows more laboured, he curls his tongue inside you, hands digging at either sides of your waist til' you're nearly bleeding, your eyes widen, body convulsing as your insides grip onto the flesh of his tongue like a vice, the other hand snakes to your chest, thumb swirling over your pebbled tits, sending your brain into overdrive, your eyes roll back, body shuddering, pressure whips at your clit, and you squirt — you twitch, over and over until you have to physically wrestle yourself out of Duncan's reach. He didn't want to scare you off, but he doesn't blame himself for wanting another selfish taste.

The raven haired dude, the one man-spreading at the edge of the booth closest to you directs his attention to you first. And all he does is smirk. Smug. Lazy. Calm. Like he's known you from somewhere before. Like he knows exactly how to sweet talk a pretty woman like you. You quickly notice the dangerous, faint scar adorning the corner of his mouth. Surely he cannot be under 35. Slight wrinkles crinkle around his eyes and fine lines of age dress his gorgeous face. And you can’t deny that it definitely has your heart skipping a beat. His piercing emerald eyes gaze quietly into yours, intimidatingly so. He's already undressing you with his eyes, the way they smooth leisurely and deliberately down and up over your horrendously bright uniform. Sloooooow and salacious. 

He shifts slightly in his seat, thighs spreading to give you a nice view of the muscle flex under his pants that seem a smidge too tight. He reclines back, relaxes against the booth, black compression shirt begging for release with how it hugs and breaks at the seams of his biceps. Large hands rest calmly on his full thighs.

"Hey Sugar" He starts, throaty and rough. "Can we get you for starters?" He rasps, husky, all gravel and no gentleness. The nickname rolls naturally off of his tongue, like your nametag actually read Sugar, Hooter's newest slutty little waitress.

You immediately feel your face flush. A warmth creeping up your neck, your cheeks already rosy. After twenty-six whole days you’d think you would be getting used to this kind of male attention...right? It's Hooters for fuck's sake. Your ass is hanging out of your shorts…And your breasts are practically bursting out the company mandated push-up bra. The skin-tight shirt leaves nothing to the imagination. But wow...you wouldn't be lying if you said he was one of the yummiest customers you've ever served. 

"Toji." A firm voice interrupts your musings. The mature, sharp-looking blonde in the tan suit is now glaring at the subject of your imaginations, lips drawn in a tight line. It’s a very thinly veiled warning. 

Hmm…Toji… 

Learning his name has drawn your attention back to him, your eyes fixating on his bulging pecs, then trailing up his neck, the sweat of his nape, and by the time you reach eye level, he is already matching your gaze. A loud barking laughter breaks the spell again, this time it’s the white haired man, his beautiful, clear cyan eyes glinting with curiosity. He watches you carefully, a bright grin spreading across his face as his eyes ping-pong from you to Toji. 

"Come on Nanami! Ji's just having a lil' fun!" The goofy white-haired guy sing songs, stifling a giggle as he sees the displeasure in Nanami's clenched jaw. 

The back and forth is enough for the last member of the party to break his silence, slamming his palm on the table. Woah…his fingers are huge. You take notice of his tussled salmon-pink hair and his build… somehow even bigger than the rest of them, but his patience is clearly wearing thin. Your eyes dance up his flexed arms, tracing the strange tattoos until they disappear under his too-small white tank. "Can we just fuckin' order our food?" He grunts, exasperated by the rest of his silly group. Hefty thighs spread wide and tight shorts hiking up like he owns the damn booth.

Your eyes naturally shift back up to meet Toji's magnetic jade pupils, heavy and half-lidded. His arm lazily rests over the top of the booth as he blatantly traces the shape of your body. He drags his measured gaze back up to your huge tits, cleavage pressed tightly together in the vibrant orange and white top. His tongue escapes his mouth, teasingly wetting and swiping across his pink lower lip. He's a man that clearly wants to devour you. A man hungry. Starving. Like you're the last meal known to man on the entirety of Earth. And you can't say you're opposed to it in the slightest.

You clear your throat quickly, practically having to snap your head back and rip your eyes off of him. "C-can I start you guys with some drinks?" If their goal was to overwhelm your senses, and hormones, they’ve succeeded.

The white haired man chirps in happily, almost interrupting you with how fast he talks. Like his brain is still trying to catch up with his mouth. "My friend 'Ji here will have a beer.... Aaaaand Nanami will have....." he trails off, and lowkey you find it quite endearing how well he knows his friends. You continue to smile politely, nodding along as he paces you through their orders.

"Sukuna will have-" The pink-haired terrifyingly large man from earlier practically hisses at him. "No need to order for me, Gojo." He grunts out curtly, crimson eyes narrowing in annoyance.

You follow the order as you scribble quickly on your little notepad, pink manicured nails matching the tip of your tongue as it sticks out in concentration.

"Cute." You hear Toji grumble quietly in that raw voice of his, lips curling into an amused grin. You ignore the way your blush reclaims your cheeks and nape, quickly glancing up from your notepad to force yourself to address the group as a whole, not just on the sexy dark-haired hunk staring at you. 

"I'll be back with your drinks!" You squeak out, turning around awkwardly to strut back to the kitchen. Suddenly conscious of the eyes burning into your back and your ass, you hear a low, appreciative wolf whistle cut through the music behind you. Followed by a warning "Toji—" from Nanami.

Time continues to pass and you find yourself laughing, cracking jokes openly with the four men throughout your shift. Growing fond of their amusing presence in the bustling Hooters. Their rambunctious voices, howling laughs and obnoxious clinks of their glasses echo through the place. And every time you pass the table comes a new flirtatious move from Toji. First, a wink and a quiet "thanks 'ma" as his hands brush against yours to grab the plate from you. Next time you pass he lets out an approving click of his tongue as he sees you swipe by their table, striking eyes lingering for just a second too long. And out of the corner of your eye, as you're serving another table, you see him grunt and sigh, shifting and moving slightly in the booth. Distinctly trying to adjust and conceal the slight tent forming uncomfortably in his pants. Oh godddddd

Your cheeks grow hotter and hotter with Toji's forwardness as the hours go by. But you focus on the task at hand and continue serving food, drinks and jovial smiles.

After what feels like an eternity, a slender hand raises in the air in the distance. A Rolex snuggly fitted around his thin wrist, sugar daddy Nanami's eyes focus on you as he mouths a Bill, please followed by a curt nod. 

You feel Toji's firey eyes again on you as you skip over sweetly. Gaze hot and heavy. Almost frustrating with the way he stares at you shamelessly. Idly grinning on the wooden toothpick between his teeth. 

"Were y'all happy with everything?" You ask with a courteous smile, earning an indifferent grumble from Sukuna and a hyper "yesss!" From Gojo. Nanami smiles, tight-lipped and polite. Your eyes linger on the dark haired man of the bunch. Toji says nothing, just stands up abruptly, and only now do you notice how tall the man is. He's at least two heads taller than you, six foot two at minimum. He towers over you, your size engulfed in his wide and broad stature. Waves of his sharp, sandalwood cologne permeate off of him. 

He looks down at you, cocks his head to the side slowly. Mischeviously smirking, lustful eyes trace your lips. He leans in after what feels like forever and mumbles quietly, only for you to hear, a large hand splayed across your lower back. "Hey pretty, Mind showin' me where the bathroom is?" You nod, a bit too eagerly. Almost arching back into his touch. You blurt out an embarrassingly breathless, "Y…yes…follow me"

You lead Toji through the twirling waitresses, the boisterous laughter of the seated customers, and further past the flickering kitchen lights where the bored-out-of-their-mind chefs hunch over the stove's fires.

His eyes bore into yours, intensely before he does a quick double-take with his head, hastily dragging you by the wrist into the tiny cubicle. The sound of the lock clicking echoes through the tense, hot air. 

"T-Toji?" You gasp, eyes wide, the enclosed space between you making your stomach coil and tighten with dizzying anticipation. He only smirks, leaning in until his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes, ghosts over your mouth. 

"Better be quick before your manager finds you all slutted out on my dick," he groans out, voice strained and throaty.

And that was all the invitation you needed. 

You lunge forward, kissing him rough and messy, a desperate clash of teeth, tongue, and spit. A raw, needy sound is ripped from your throat as he slides his calloused hands down your back, grabbing and massaging the fat of your ass. You whine needily against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut and back arching into his sinful touch.

"Damn, baby," he sighs, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. "Who knew you’d be my slutty little waitress at Hooters? Hmm? Desperate for my cock?"

You whine again, tugging desperately at the fabric of his shirt with both of your balled fists. "Shut up!" you hiss, pulling back just enough to mouth desperately at his neck, whimpering into his hot skin. His scent was intoxicating and inescapable in the tight, humid bathroom.

He chuckles, wasting no time spinning you around and bending you over. Your hands flatten almost instinctively against the peeling paint of the bathroom door, right over the crusty dried graffiti that read, "GETO WAZ HERE."

He swiftly bunches your shorts and panties together in one motion, hauling them to the side before his thick, calloused fingers slide across your slick folds. You gasp, back arching and hips pushing back desperately against his thick fingers.

"F-Fuck—— Ji!" you cry out.

"You gotta be quiet, mama," his raspy warning antagonises the shell of your ear, the closeness sending another shiver down your spine. He drags his thumb up your pussy, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit. 

"Don't want anyone finding you here, hmm?"

You nod absently, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as waves of heat rush to your pussy. You instinctively push back into his hand, your long, mascaraed lashes fluttering.

"P-please! Toji—-" you grit out harshly, voice cracking and breathy. "I have fifteen minutes at most!"

He nods, grunting in understanding. "Next time I'll be taking my fucking time," the promise makes your chest tighten, but before you can dwell on the feeling his rough fingers curl inside you. He begins pumping his fingers expertly in and out of your tight heat. Curling his fingers just right, rubbing that textured spongy spot deep inside like he knows his way around. He has you whining and scratching against the door like a feline in heat, writhing desperately against the palm of his hand. The squelch and thwop of your wet hole echoing through the sexually charged air. 

"Mmmnnnn! Toji! Hurry!" you cry out, biting your lip hard to silence the drawn out moan threatening to escape your throat.

He groans, displeased, before slowly pulling his fingers out. Behind you, you hear him playing with the wetness on his fingers, then a loud slurp as he nastily cleans them of your slick.

"Mmm, so sweet pretty girl," he sighs, and your pussy clenches humiliatingly around nothing in response.

Impatiently, he unbuckles his belt, the loud metal clanking against the tile floors, the low hum of the exhaust fan above your heads taunts you, it’s definitely not loud enough to cover your needy sounds. If you don’t reel it in, you’ll be caught and fired on the spot. You can kiss goodbye to your twenty-seventh day

He gives his hard cock a few pumps, his other hand resting comfortably on your hip like it belongs there. He lines himself up, teasingly sliding the fat wet tip along your puffy folds. He lets it brush briefly along your sensitive clit before painting your slick entrance with your own wetness and his pre.

"Tojiiiiiii!" you whine, the emptiness between your thighs has only worsened the ache in your pussy. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Aw my bad, 'ma. I’m just playing with you, no need to get all upset" He’s teasing you, and you can tell the fucker’s taking pleasure in it. You wish you had the time to indulge him… but you can already feel wetness trickling down your inner thigh. You roll your eyes, and just like that your frustrated huff is cut off by his girthy shaft entering you in one slow, deep thrust.

"F-Fuck!" You scream, eyes fluttering shut and fingernails clawing against the door.

Toji's large hand claps instantly over your mouth, hissing as your tight, wet heat swallows him whole. He leans in, planting a surprisingly gentle kiss below your ear as you whimper pathetically against his rough palm. "Don't want everyone to hear you lose it on my cock sweetheart."

You nod obediently, moans muffled and drool coating his palm. 

Now don't get me wrong… You are no saint and definitely not a virgin. But you have never been with anyone this big before. Heavy. Hard. Thick. Monstrous. You could feel your pussy slightly burn with the stretch. He was easily the biggest you’d ever taken—a definite nine, nine and a half inches.

He groans behind you at the flutter of your tight pussy against him. Cooing mockingly, the same ol’ smirk playing on those sexy scarred lips. "Aw, too big for you baby?"

"J-just—" you whine out, hot tears pricking at your eyes. Pleasure bordering pain.

He nods, somehow understanding. His arm travels from your mouth around to your front and begins rubbing your sticky clit in slow circles.  Slowwwwwwwly pulling his length out, before filling you up again. He takes his time, pulling his cock out slow and thrusting back in deep. As your pussy gets used to the stretch, your moans start to become louder and more pornographic. Nipples straining and hard beneath your bra and against your now-wrinkled and sweaty uniform.

He smiles, sounding satisfied as he whispers into your ear. "Thaaaats it. Taking me so well, doll."

He increases his pace now, thrusting into you at a steady, fast rhythm. Your breasts press almost painfully against the bathroom door as he fucks into you roughly, driving you higher and harder against the cool wood. Your eyes remain tightly shut, mouth open as wanton moans and whines escape your lips. Toji’s raspy voice stays pressed to your ear, approving coos and sinful praises leaving his mouth as he slams into you. Your pussy clenches around his cock like it never wants him to leave. Like you were both made for one another. 

The squelching and sucking of your tight cunt around his cock echoes through the bathroom air, as well as the satisfying slap of his pelvis against your thick ass. The sexy bastard continues to rub and circle your clit throughout the rough fucking, always applying pressure in juuuust the right way.

Toji grunts in tandem with his thrusts, throwing his head back with a sound that was more akin to an animalistic growl ripped from deep within his chest.

Thrust after thrust, you feel that familiar tightening in your lower abdomen, legs starting to shake and crumble beneath you. You gasp, strained, barely able to whisper in warning: "T-Toji, I'm. Oh! I—"

He chuckles, thrusting deeper into your cervix as he wraps his arm around your waist and bounces you back onto his cock. He buries his face into your sweaty neck and moans carelessly into your skin.

"Cum for me, baby. Right here. In this filthy bathroom. Alllll over my cock," he grunts low.

And that’s enough to send you over the edge. With a final loud cry, your pussy tightens impossibly hard around his shaft, squeezing and milking him as your orgasm hits you in waves. Your legs finally give out, and you almost slide down the bathroom door, and you would have if it wasn't for Toji's bulky forearms holding your limp body against his. Your sweaty hair is stuck to your flushed cheeks as a line of drool paints the corner of your lips, all the way down to your chin.

Toji follows soon after, taking his long, slick cock out with a heavy groan as he jerks it off behind you, panting in the empty bathroom. You hear a low "fuuuuck, that's it" behind you, as warm liquid spurts across your tender, flushed ass cheeks.

You both stand still in the cubicle for a second, catching your breath as your chests heave together. Toji's now softening cock still in his hand, and your sweaty palms still splayed stiffly against the bathroom door.

He leans forward again, after what feels like forever, and moves your hair to the side to press a swift, intimate kiss to your neck that has you flushing crimson. He pulls back with a content sigh, his own eyes half-lidded and pupils blown. 

"Let's get you cleaned up, baby. Did so well for me, huh?" he says idly, reaching for the toilet paper. You aren’t even listening to a word he’s saying, you can’t, all you do is absently nod in response.

"Fuck!" He tsks in annoyance. His unexpected outburst is enough to bring you back from cloud nine.

You spin around quickly. Toji is standing there, a look of slight panic—the most emotive you’ve seen him all night. Dick still awkwardly out and soft between his legs.

To your horror, he’s holding a cardboard cylinder. An empty toilet roll.

You both stare at each other, dumbfounded. The silence speaks for itself. Your heart hammers against your ribcage as the reality hits you: your ass is delightfully decorated with a customer’s cum and you still have an hour left of your shift.

After a seemingly endless wait, the older man sighs, taking his phone out of his pocket and anxiously rubbing his temples. Bracing himself for what he was about to do.

"Yeah... Gojo? I need you—shut the fuck up!— just—I need you to bring me some toilet paper. Fuck.”

a/n: Oh MY GOD GUYS THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS NOW I AM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY POST IT HEHEHEH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! please show it a loooooot of love and enjoy!!! He is sooooooo FUCK.. thank u to my baby for editing this and staying up till 2am helping me with EVERY little word and sentence ♡ i love u<3 and thank u to my sexy bestie for helping me upload and double check our edit was okay!!!! mwah<3<3333333 p.s. ive never been to a hooters nor do i have any experience as a restaurant worker lol

——

Night One.

It started pretty simply.

You were stationed inside a very cramped office—two doors located on your right and left, desk in the middle—that left you feeling a bit uncomfortable but, it was pretty on par with the offered pay for this job.

No one was in the park when you initially arrived and you’d only spoken to your employer Shiu Kong through email up until this point. The whole thing was sketchy from the very beginning and yet, you still took the job. You needed a quick cash grab and five nights working at this horror theme park you quite admire in your free time didn’t sound so bad.

After all, the main attraction to said park was in the name: Fushiguro Frights. You’d never heard of an entire park named after a mere scare actor so you were drawn in by that alone. Apparently—after some extensive research—he’d been so good at his job that the owners renamed the park after him and he quickly became the main attraction.

Yeah, there were plenty of other things in this park that people came to check out like the haunted houses, those creepy ass mazes, some rides, etcetera. But everyone really only came for one thing and that was Toji Fushiguro.

Was he scary? You don’t know, didn’t care too much to find out either. The only thing that caught your attention about him aside from the place being named after him was how hot he was. People talked about how they came to get scared by him but you knew for a fact that was the last thing people really came for. 

Well, at least that’s what you’ve told yourself anyway. You try to ignore that a lot of people talk about how ridiculously fast he is and how nobody ever really knows where he’s going to be or when. He just kinda.. “pops up” and that’s what scares people, you figure. 

Not that any of that matters much to you. You’re a security guard taking the weirdest night shift offered. You’re supposed to show up about an hour after midnight and then you just sit and watch the cameras for the next six hours. This job was going to be a walk in the park, literally-

The loud ass ring of some old phone makes your skin jump as you nearly fall out of your chair. Muttering some sort of curse before you collect yourself, your hand goes out to answer it and a voice was coming through before you could even fix your lips to say anything.

“Hello, hello?” The voice is filled with static and sounds like something that was recorded from back in 1987 or something…

You finally open your mouth to say something but when a hand lands on the door to your left and a voice fills the small space of your office with a hum of, “Yo,” the only thing leaving your throat is a yelp of surprise.

You nearly jump out of your chair again and your head whirls to the side to look at who the hell just walked in.

Standing there with one of his arms resting on the doorframe is a tall man with dark hair and a thin mustache, who takes a slow drag from the cigarette perched between his lips before exhaling its contents to the side and nodding his chin at you. “Little jumpy for a security guard, no?” He points out carefully. 

Gulping, you let your lashes bat as you take in his audacity to point out your surprise as if he didn’t just pop up out of nowhere. “I-, who are you?” 

The man cracks a lazy smile and lets his eyes glide down your seated frame slowly and completely unashamed. Then his eyes meet yours again as he plucks his cigarette from between his lips and flicks it off to the side, scoffing, “The person who hired you, of course.”

Ah, Shiu. You nod at his little reminder and then take in his appearance, making an effort to commit it to memory so he doesn’t scare the shit out of you like that again in the future. “Right,” You sigh, “It’s nice to finally meet you then.”

He’s extending his hand out for you to shake before you even think about doing so yourself, to which you carefully slot your hand into his and then flash a polite little smile.

You should’ve known from then that this whole experience would be… weird.

Hell, you should’ve known things would be strange from the moment you saw the poorly put-together flyer offering this damn job. And yet, here you are.

Shiu then went on to explain the things you’d be required to do for the next five nights you’d be working here. Which… wasn’t much, if anything at all. In so many words, he explained that all you’d be doing is sitting there checking the security cameras.

“And don’t worry about that old ass phone over there,” He hums with a casual nod of his head, “It’s just another one of our little gimmicks here meant to scare folks. But, I think that’s just about everything.” Shiu finishes off before pushing himself away from the door and steps toward you.

Instinctively, you go to slide your chair back and make room for him because you assumed he was going to try to show you something with the cameras again but to your ever-loving surprise, he leans down toward you and tugs your chair close to him.

Clicking his tongue, “One more thing though,” He breathes out, sharp brown eyes meeting yours with warning, and the scent of a freshly smoked cigarette wafting into your space. “Under no conditions are you allowed to fuck the scare actors.”

“Pardon?” You choke out with widening eyes. Then you find yourself leaning back into your chair a bit more to create some distance between the two of you, smiling awkwardly, “Why would I… Wait, is that something that happens often or..?”

Seeming to hit the nail right on the head, Shiu nods begrudgingly and then lifts one of his hands to wipe it over his face as if to erase his mind of things he’s seen before. “It’s part of the reason why we’re in such a desperate search for people like you to work the night shift. Last few security guards just… couldn’t help themselves, I guess.” 

You don’t exactly mean to but, you chuckle at the thought of that. The past few security guards got caught sleeping with the actors here? How bizarre.

You lift your hands to wave off his warning since you know you’d never do something like that, “You don’t have to worry about that where I’m concerned, Mr. Kong.”

“Jus’ Shiu is fine, doll.” He corrects in that deep voice of his while leaning away from you and finally standing up straight again, “And I’d sure hope not. ‘Can’t say I blame all our past security guards for fallin’ into ‘temptation’—if you will—but, it does become quite the headache to deal with when they do the things they do where… people can see, y’know?”

Cocking a brow at that, “Sorry, ‘falling into temptation’? Are you implying that the actors here like, go out of their way to sleep with the security guards?”

Shiu seems to think about a specific event from the past as you say that with the way his expression shifts into something almost reminiscent. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Most of our actors are fine and head home like normal people when the park closes but then there’s… a few of ‘em that..” He trails off for a second to ponder, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tight slacks and leaning back a bit. With another click of his tongue, “I guess you could say a few of our actors here tend to get a bit quirkier as the nights go on.”

Whatever the fuck that means, you find yourself saying mentally. This whole ordeal was getting weirder and weirder the more you learned but, you were trying to focus on the money, even if it wasn’t that much.

Strange or not, things were simple: watch the cameras and don’t fuck any of the actors. Easy peasy.

Your employer goes over a few more things with you like; how to shut your office doors in case of a dire emergency and how you should be very careful with when to shut them since they drain a lot of power, a refresher on how to use the gun you’ve got attached to your hip—though you really think that was Shiu’s sly way of getting closer to you—and lastly, what to do if you do happen to encounter any of the scare actors.

Apparently, you were supposed to professionally escort them out of the park if you caught any of them lingering around during your shift. Shiu explained how some may try to distract you from doing so but as long as you’re stern with removing them, they should listen to you.

After all of that, he leaves and tells you to call him if you run into any minor issues.

The rest of your first night goes by without anything else eventful happening so, maybe the next four days would be easy after all.

——

Night two.

When you arrived at work on this day, you should’ve quit right after.

Why? Because as soon as you enter your office, you’re met with Shiu sitting in your chair with his legs sprawled out, a hand resting suspiciously high against his thigh, and his phone held in his palm. The moment you walk in, he flinches as if he’d been caught doing something he had no business doing and something about the whole interaction left you side-eyeing the man.

Not that he seemed to notice, or care.

Clearing his throat as he moves to stand up and make room for you to pass by, “You’re early.” Shiu comments.

You brush by him to place your bag on the office desk and then take a seat in your chair, “And you’re in my office.” You point out in a simple tone that weirdly makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. For some reason, he was nervous around you and you were kinda catching onto it despite today only being your second night. “Why’s that?” You add on in question before looking at him.

Shiu clears his throat again and gestures his chin toward your desk, to which you find a sticky note with a phone number on it, “Stopped by to leave that for ya’. Just in case anything crazy happens, you can just give me a call, y’know?” He explains.

You nod along slowly and swipe the note up to input the digits into your phone, “Alright, thank you. Should I be worried tonight or something?” Your lips quirk a little to grin while you type in his number and shoot him a short text.

To which Shiu—overly easy—finds himself smiling and leaning against your office door frame again, plucking his cellphone out of his pocket to skim over your text and save your contact. “Nah, nothin’ to be worried about, doll. The numbers for emergencies only.” He claims for a moment, then lifts his eyes back onto you and swipes his tongue out over his lips. “Unless, of course, you’re ever bored ‘n wanna shoot me a text or two. I’d consider that quite the emergency too, so I won’t mind.”

You look up at him, smiling knowingly now. “If you want me to text you in my free time, just say that, Shiu.”

The sound of his name on your tongue makes him look off to the side again. Then he pushes himself off the wall and throws his hands up, “You said it, not me but, sure—I want you to text me.” He confesses. After which he adds, “Wouldn’t want you to die of boredom or anything like that, y’know?” as if to make up for the fact that he’s so openly flirting with you right now.

The two of you continue with that bit of small talk for a few minutes before he finally leaves.

Alone in your office, you spend the next few hours working diligently; flipping through the cameras, occasionally walking around your section of the park to check a few blind spots out, and ultimately ending right back up inside your office.

Nothing too eventful happened during your second night outside of you getting Shiu’s number. And the fact that his first-day warning of “no fucking the scare actors” rang throughout your head from time to time was something that left you anything but bored. You spent most of this day wondering what the actors were like in person and you were honestly curious about how “tempting” they could be.

He never gave you any names but you doubted that the whole thing could apply to Toji Fushiguro, he was the best scare actor of the park after all! Surely he didn’t fall into that category of individuals who liked to fuck around with security guards like you–

The sight of something moving suddenly catches the corner of your eye from the camera. Sitting up fast and scooting closer to your desk where the old monitors sat, you rushed to click on the area you saw movement in just for nothing to be there once you got to it. But, you’re not crazy, you definitely saw something.

You stay on it for a few minutes before clicking out and letting all the cameras splay across your screen, eyes flocking over each just to see if you would catch any more movement. Luckily for you, a person is spotted strolling through one of the haunted houses. Your finger works fast against the mouse to tap into that camera and really take in the sight to confirm your lack of going crazy.

You end up gasping in surprise because on the camera shown to you is the Toji Fushiguro walking around with not a single care in the world. Then—perhaps you imagine it but—he suddenly stops walking and looks directly at the camera before winking.

Your flashlight, a pair of handcuffs, and your safety gun are all swiped up in a matter of seconds before you go rushing out to try and catch him inside that haunted house in person.

Unfortunately for you, by the time you make it there, he’s nowhere to be found.

The rest of your night carries out without another hitch.

——

Night three.

This night wasn’t super eventful honestly.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself in comparison to all the other nights you’ve had so far and end up having going forward. The most noteworthy thing about night number three is how there’s movement on the cameras again and this time when you go out to check and see who it is, some random bummy-ass actor named Naoya is the perpetrator.

He made a lot of distasteful comments about you that he tried to pass off as compliments but his way of doing so was so disturbing that you were very quick with the way you cuffed him and escorted him off of park grounds.

Now, according to Shiu, you’re technically not supposed to cuff any of the scare actors unless they give you trouble. Yet, the moment you explained to him that the actor in question was Naoya, he understood immediately and even said how you could’ve been a little rough with the guy too since he’s known for being a complete ass to everyone he comes in contact with.

No sight of Toji during all that though.

Interesting.

——

Night four.

While this night wasn’t exactly the highlight of your entire job, it was definitely something worth mentioning. Why? Oh, y’know because this is the night you “formally” meet Toji Fushiguro and by formally, it’s only meant that he scares the living shit out of you while you’re in your office.

Legs perched up against your desk—eyes everywhere but on the cameras because you were too busy texting Shiu about god knows what—you hadn’t really been doing your job. But since your employer didn’t seem to mind, that meant it was okay in some sense, right? Even though the only reason he didn’t mind was that you and he were exchanging very flirtatious messages with one another, the point still stands.

And as you sat back tapping away on that bright screen of yours, you were completely oblivious to the watchful eyes all around you. For the past three days before now, you figured no one dared to come to your office at the very least. If anyone was going to be on park grounds after hours like this, they were sure to be somewhere fun or somewhere that would cause you to get up.

To your everloving surprise—just as you’re nibbling away at your bottom lip in reaction to something rather explicit said by Shiu—a voice hits you from your right. “Wow, I’m almost offended.” A man with a voice deep enough to invoke a scream of pure fear from your throat comments all too casually. 

God, you really were jumpy for a security guard.

That same man can’t help but laugh when you go tumbling out of your chair after being scared like that. After all, this is the kinda reaction he usually works so hard for throughout the day. “Here I thought somethin’ bad had happened to you since you didn’t come lookin’ for me like last time and yet, you’re here sexting with that old fart Shiu.” The man continues in a low drawl, watching you struggle to collect yourself on the floor.

Your heart is hammering in your chest from the jump scare and you forget all of your very short training that was given for this position. No one was supposed to be in the park, let alone in your office like this and yet here this guy was talking all regularly as if this were just another Thursday night. 

When your head does finally fly up and your eyes meet his, the first thing you do is gulp. Toji was a big man and from your angle down on the floor right now, he seemed twice his usual size. Large beefy arms folded across his broad chest, head cocked to the side, scarred lips tugged up into a torpid smirk, and dark verdant eyes low-lidded and taut on your floored frame. 

You don’t know what he normally wears for work to scare people but right now he was in a black shirt that looked like it was glued to his muscles and some big baggy grey sweatpants that made you double-take a few times because you swear you saw–

Toji suddenly crouches down to you and smiles. “Aw, look at’cha. Too frightened to say anything, officer?”

You instinctively throw something nearby at him, to which he swiftly evades with some sort of nonchalance that leaves you irritated already. Whatever you’d thrown clatters somewhere behind him and he glances back at the item before chuckling.

“Oh, we’re feisty today, huh?” He comments, slowly turning his expression to face you once more. Those low eyes of his shoot open in surprise when he’s met with a gun pointed at his face. Geez, all he did was scare you! Scoffing at the rather cute display, Toji merely tips his head further to the side so that your gun isn’t blocking the eye contact he wants to keep with you as he says, “You plan on doin’ something with that or are you jus’ trying to be cute?”

Something catches in your chest, like this burning feeling of distaste at the way he didn’t seem even phased by having a weapon pointed at him like this. “You’re not supposed to be here, Mr. Fushiguro.”

His smile widens, “You’ve got some pretty manners for a woman with a gun to my head.”

“And you’ve got some audacity parading about the park after hours. Just because the place is named after you doesn’t mean you can break the rules, asshat.” You spit.

Toji snorts, “Oh c’monnn, you’re no fun.” Then, along with that little taunting tone of his, he lets his gaze slip down a little, “I just came to check on you. You weren’t even doing your job properly if I managed to make it all the way here without you noticing.”

Obviously, you’re quick to take offense, despite his words being very much true. But it’s not your fault you were distracted, Shiu has a very filthy way of words that’d leave anyone distracted.

Rolling your eyes, “Cut the bullshit. The last time you were walking around, you left before I could catch you.”

Toji stares at you for a moment before leaning back a bit in thought. You had a point there, he did purposefully draw you out of your office the other day just to mess with you, and then left without a trace. But, could you really blame him? He wanted to get a decent grasp on your personality and how committed you were to this little five-day job of yours. 

Humming, “Oh, did I?” as he comes to terms with it.

You continue to hold that gun up, still aiming at him but not seeming to have any intentions of pulling the trigger.

The man barks out another laugh and shakes his head as he throws his hands to admit defeat, “Okay, fair.” Then those burly shoulders lifted to shrug, “But so what if I wanna walk around after hours, who’s it harmin’?”

Your pointed stare persists, “Me and my job.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone I’m here,” he counters.

You’re quiet for a moment and a moment only, thinking his words over. Technically he was right, you didn’t have to tell anyone he was ever there but, you didn’t want anything to come out of your pay and you had no idea whether or not Shiu checked the camera feeds after you left just to make sure you were doing everything correctly—especially considering that warning of his on your first day… 

Don’t fuck the scare actors.

Y’know, looking at Toji now and the way he’s so casual about having a gun pointed at him, perhaps you understood that whole temptation thing, just a bit. He was unfairly sexy with everything he did, after all.

Eventually, you let your hand fall and return your weapon to its holster with a sigh, “Can you please just go?” You request defeatedly. You didn’t want to drag this out any longer or fall victim to any more “temptation”.

Toji seems amused by your attitude now and he pushes up from his knees to stand. Then, with a roll of his shoulder, he makes sure to add a snarky little, “As long as you promise to do your job properly once I do, sure.” While he turns for one of the exits.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, finally managing to pull yourself up off the floor.

He starts to disappear around the corner and you hear him continue with yet another taunt that’s sure to leave you all the more annoyed. “Keep your eyes on those cameras, officer.” Toji muses.

You try to catch up with him and turn that corner yourself just to make sure he’s actually heading down the hallway to leave, “I always-” You’re cut off by the fact that there’s not a single sight of him down the hallway as your eyes peer down its expanse. It was so strange the way he always just disappeared like that. Leaving you murmuring a soft and confused, “The fuck…”

——

Night five.

The night that actually matters, if you will. 

The past few were… something but tonight definitely takes the cake. After yesterday’s strange encounter with Toji, you’d found yourself actually listening to his scolding about you not doing your job properly.

Instead of giggling through Shiu’s texts the entire night, you were perked up in front of the monitors, flipping through each of the camera frames like a hawk as if waiting for something to happen. That stretches on for hours and you quickly find your brain feeling dull with a strong impending boredom that you previously cured via texting.

Yet, something in you was determined to make Toji eat those words about you not doing shit properly. As if he had any room to speak, he literally broke park rules twice already! There you were though, headphones in your ear as you listened to music to give your mind some sort of stimulation while you stared blankly at the live footage ahead.

Nothing had moved or changed for hours and you felt like you were going to fall right asleep any moment now. Luckily for you though, you hear a sound down the hallway just outside your left office door. It scares you a bit but you’re trying to get control over all your jumpiness so, you roll your chair over to the door and lazily poke your head out.

Eyes scanning the drab hall ahead for any signs of life—having assumed the sound might’ve come from one of those rodents you’d once spotted previously—you’re quickly disappointed by nothing being there. Then you let out a heavy sigh and roll back to your monitors, clicking through to new areas you’re not exactly responsible for checking just because you needed something new to look at.

The soft click, click, click of your mouse was the only thing alongside the old fan running on your desk that made noise within your office. Everything was so still that it got eerie whenever you paid attention to it long enough. You were really alone in this big ass park, forced to watch some cameras for a few hours just to get paid….

The realization dawns on you a bit but just before you could quite dwell on it, you flick to a new area and gasp softly at what you’re met with.

Toji.

He’s standing in some office that weirdly looks a lot like yours, hunched over a desk and looking at a screen in front of him. You blink a few times and try to zoom in to figure out what exactly that screen is but you’re quickly distracted by the way his head turns and he makes eye contact with you. Well, technically the camera you’re currently watching him from but, it was close enough and sudden enough to make you gulp.

The man wasn’t exactly scary, he was just… creepy? But, in a good way, considering his profession ‘n all..

Even so, the two of you have some kind of staring contest before you see the way he makes a gesture with his fingers to beckon you toward him and then mouths out the words; Come get me.

You’re quickly ticked off all over again because who did he think he was taunting you like that? First, he had the nerve to criticize you on your job—even though he was right—and now he had the nerve to challenge you to come find him?

You don’t think you could’ve moved any faster, honestly. You hated how he thought he was just so smart and slick, hiding off in a section of the theme park he knew you were not even supposed to be looking at. Yet there you were storming off in that direction ‘cause you’d rather die than let him think he’s got you bested in… whatever it was the two of you had going on.

And in all this, the worst part was that he definitely was besting you in this—whatever it may be—because you didn’t even stop to think nor consider how the hell he always knew you were watching him. Or how he kept disappearing from areas as soon as you went to look for him.

At least, none of this dawns on you until you get to the same place you just saw him standing in on the cameras. The mock office you were in now was creepier than yours, dust and cobwebs coating nearly everything and the only source of lighting coming from your flashlight before you felt around for something to flick the lights on and then a dim creepy red light lit up only a fraction of the area.

It was clear that this was yet another attraction in the park but, it was almost like this room was made to scare people like you who worked there. The whole room was almost an exact replica of your office, just older. It made you wonder why the hell visitors of the park would wander into this area. After surveying the area, you soon groan at the lack of Toji being here and then turn to leave.

Juuust as you make it halfway down the hall, you hear a thump somewhere behind you that’s followed by a low, “Shit.”

You immediately turn back and rush in the direction since there was no way in hell you’d let Toji get away from you again. The moment you enter the office, you don’t even think twice about damn near tackling the man standing there. It would’ve been really embarrassing if it wasn’t Toji but luckily for you, as your hands work to pin a pair of wrists down and your body straddles his, it does turn out to be him.

Perfect.

You’re using one hand to keep his wrists crossed over one another while you work your other fingers toward a pair of handcuffs and finally finally get him restrained. “Got you,” You finally huff all confidently with a proud smile etched onto your features. He wasn’t getting away all easily this time, not without you properly dragging him out yourself just like you did with Naoya before.

Toji’s huffing a bit at the way you actually caught him off guard—at least with getting him down on the floor, he wasn’t expecting that at all—but a smug grin remains on his face, almost making you feel small despite being on top of him. “Yeah ya’ did, doll.” He purrs all deeply, watching the way your smile flickers. “So, what’re you gonna do now, huh?”

“Uh,” You glance off to the side, hand still holding his wrists down whilst you move to cuff him properly, “Escort you out, obviously.”

Those thin dark brows of his shoot up all unsurprisedly, “Really? But we were having so much fun.” He claims. You’re trying to figure out where he got that from since all you two have been doing is playing some weird game of cat and mouse up until now. Then he adds, “Are y’really gonna make me leave after all that?”

“You were having fun, not me.” You correct shortly.

Toji cocks a brow and lets those deep hazel-like eyes of his flock down your body, “Is that why you’re sitting on top of me and pinning me down like this?” He asks slowly, lips quirking up into a smirk now.

You try to ignore the way his looks make your body feel hot above him, “This was necessary, otherwise you would’ve run away like you did the last two times.”

“Yeah?” Toji taunts, hips twitching upward and leaving it damn near impossible for you not to feel what’s pressing up hard against your spread legs. You quickly realize the position the two of you are in right now. He seems to have acknowledged it and decides to tip his head back as if to get comfortable, “Alright then, officer. Escort me out.”

Smug bastard.

For some reason unbeknownst to both of you, your body doesn't move. You just sit there on top of him, keeping him pinned while your eyes widen and you try to figure out what the hell you really wanted to do with him.

“Hah, lemme guess..” Toji starts up again, head tilting to the side with such confidence that it almost pisses you off… again. Then you feel his legs move and his hips rise a bit, not only pressing his erection firmly against you but also causing your body to slump forward just a bit more. “You feel it too, huh?” He whispers.

Your face is hovering decently over his now and you’re expertly ignoring that fat twitch of his cock beneath you. Gulping before you ask, “Feel what?” You could hardly remember how the hell you got into this position in the first place. 

“‘Me against you.” He clarifies quickly enough for your face to flush over. “I love seeing a strong woman on top of me, can’t help but get a lil’ turned on by it.”

Batting your lashes down at him, the last thing you expected was for him to explain himself to you. Stammering, “T-Toji.”

His smile softens just a bit at the sound of his first name on your tongue like that, “What? We’re both adults here and I feel like I can be honest with ya’. So, what do you say you uncuff me and uh,” He clicks his tongue before glancing off, “Y’know, let me reward ya’ for finally catching me.”

The implication alone was enough to make you throb. Feeling his thick bulge resting right underneath you really wasn’t helping you make proper decisions. It was definitely bigger than anything you’ve had before, you could feel it creating the most sinful friction between the two of you every time either of you opened your mouths.

Fuck, it was torture.

“I don’t need a reward for that,” You eventually manage to say, trying to remember your professionalism. Then you take your lower lip into your mouth and chew on it in thought before sighing, “I need to take you out of the park.” The words left you as if they were a reminder to yourself and not him.

Toji finally looks directly up at you again. He could practically see the gears in your head turning, “And yet you’re sittin’ on top of me, twitching every time I open my mouth, and lookin’ at me like you wanna fuck me.” He blurts out. “Is that what it is—why you’re not movin’? Cause’ you wanna fuck?”

You make the mistake of flinching and he grits his teeth to bite back a groan. Your little jump felt way too close to you grinding against him and it was starting to drive him insane.

Then you have the nerve to breathe out a soft, “What?”

“Don’t pull the innocent card here,” Toji snaps, eyes narrowing before they flick down to your lips and how sweetly they’re parted. “I can practically see the drool against your lips.”

You blink, “I-I don’t-“

“Hell,” His gaze flutters down and he just lets himself grind up against your clothed cunt fully. “I can feel the drool on those other lips too.”

“You’re nasty,” You puff out before ultimately lifting your hips entirely—as if to escape how good it felt when he rolled his hips like that—and then going to stand up over him. “I don’t want to fuck you a-and… and I’m not getting off on any of this.”

Toji bites his bottom lip and then looks down at your thighs, noticing how close you are despite standing up. He doesn’t move from the floor and instead sneers, “She says with a soakin’ wet pussy.”

“Oh my god.” Your breath catches in your throat.

“Whaaat?” Toji purrs, still sprawled out on the floor but now leaning up as his cuffed hands fall into his lap. “Are you mad I know the effect I have on you?” He asks with an endearingly tilted head.

You send a glare down to him, “You don’t have an effect on me, Toji.”

“We’re still here though,” He points out, “I’m cuffed but you’re not removing me.”

“That’s because-“

“Because you’re too hot ‘n bothered to think straight.” He cuts off before shifting forward, cuffed hands creeping up to the back of your calves. “And y’know, there’s a real easy fix for that.”

You gulp—thickly—and then finally cave, shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. “…What might that be, exactly?” You ask carefully, asking yourself over and over; how did you get here?

Toji’s smile grows wicked. Gotcha’. 

From the angle he’s at, he doesn’t even realize how hungry he looks to please you over anything else. “You could spread these legs ‘n show me you’re not the least bit turned on after all that,” He suggests, eyes burning up into yours with a look of longing. “‘Promise I’ll leave ya’ alone after that.”

Now, you very well could have just told him no right then and there because truthfully, Toji would’ve left you alone even if you refused to show him anything. If you’d walked away, that would’ve been fine.

But do you? Fuck no.

Which is exactly why your work pants soon slip down your legs and you reveal a slicked pair of panties to his overly greedy green eyes. You’re standing right in front of him and Toji’s a big man so he’s eye level with your cunt even as he remains seated on the floor.

His hands have now dropped from your legs and are pawing at that plump tent in his pants. His cock was sweltering at the tip, drips and drips of precum bundling up against the fabric of his boxers while he stared all starved at the way your panties were practically glued to your soaked folds.

At first, he didn’t even know what to say. Words weren’t coming to his mind for a long moment because all his instincts were telling him to get a taste. Before he even realizes it, a sturdy grunt is falling past his lips and his brows are twisting up softly.

Then his eyes fawn upward on you, all pleading and low. “You can’t put wet pussy in front of my face ‘n expect me not to want a taste,” He breathes out as if it were your fault he was feeling the way he was right now (it was). He leans forward some more and his hands—albeit still restrained—come slithering up your thighs.

You don’t pull away or push at him and the look you were giving him said you wanted exactly what he was thinking.

Toji swallows down a whine when your hips actually shift closer. One lift of your leg and he’d really be able to see everything. You don’t do that though, not yet.

Instead, you move a hand down to his jaw and force him to tip further up so that you could see his entire expression—how desperate he was for it, how he was the one drooling now, and the constant flinching in his expressions as if he were trying not to look too needy.

“Jus’ one lick?” Toji finally asks, smiling now. “I’ll be good for it.”

Don’t fuck the scare actors, Shiu had warned. Yet here you are, soaking wet in front of the park’s most prized scare actor. 

You don’t have to worry about me where that’s concerned, Mr. Kong, you claimed oh so sweetly and now look at you—letting Toji yank your panties down your legs after you gave him a stupid nod of your head in approval.

Toji’s now leaning forward to cup your cunt into his mouth and suck the greediest gathering of slick past his lips, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head, and then groaning sinfully at the sweet taste on his tongue. “Just one lick” his ass, he’s moving his hands and the next thing you hear is a loud snap of metal, both of his hands flying to your hips to jerk your body closer.

“Toji!” You gasp softly as a hand of yours shoots down to his dark head of hair and you grip on for support. 

The man lets one of his grasps move to your thigh so he can properly place it over one of his shoulders and get the right angle to eat your pussy like a man absolutely starved. His tongue is sloppy and hot against your soaking lips, lathering in between them and letting the filthiest of noises echo out into the air as if he didn’t have a single care in the world.

When his tongue glissades up to your clit, his palms lift ever so slightly just to slap at your skin before grinding his mouth forward into your cunt—moaning at the way you twitch all gorgeously against his skillful tongue. “C’mon doll, ride my fuckin’ face.” He grunts into you, eyes unmoving and daring as they peer up at your steadily dishevelling state. “Don’t be shy,” Toji coos once his lips pry away just to spit on your clit and get it nice ‘n messy for himself, diving back in after with a husk whisper of, “Use me.”

That just about does it for you. Your head tips to the side and that hand you’ve got buried in his hair grips tighter before your hips go bucking forward, meeting the long languid strokes of his tongue and feeling your folds drag all over his mouth. 

Toji smiles against your dewy pussy lips, tongue sloshing against every grind forward. “Mhmm, jus’ like that,” He hushes into your folds as his mouth angles up and then his tongue darts out to lap around your clit a few times just to spell his name onto it. “Mmmh-, uhuh,” Toji’s nearly babbling into you before pulling back just a tad and feeling the way you force his mouth against you again. Almost whining, “That’s it, put this mouth to work… Make yourself feel good, pretty.”

And oh do you do exactly that, using your grip on his hair to yank and haul him every which way you needed, feeling his fingers snake up in between your sexily parted thighs to then plunge right past your puffy folds just to curl inside you and pry a gasp from deep within your throat.

You hunch forward and your grasp on his head falters in reaction to that. Eyes all wide in surprise and voice airy, “T-Toji, fuuck… right there,” You moan embarrassingly.

It was almost annoying you how good he was at this, especially considering how he’d even broken those cuffs you put on him just to make sure he got the job done right. Toji’s tongue is licking and swirling around your clit til’ it’s raw, not prying away to even breathe until you’re writhing above him and whimpering about how you needed a moment to collect yourself.

He doesn’t even realize when you gush all around his fingers, despite diving them right up into your most sensitive spot and having the prettiest squelches echo out into the room. 

It’s not until you look down and notice the way his body was twitching just as much as yours was that you manage some coherent words again. Moaning, “Hnngh! Hahh.. you-, ngh… you like this?” You ask perfectly enough for it to actually register in his brain between the thick clouds of arousal collecting there.

“Fuckin’ love it,” Toji moans right back to you. “Could keep you on my tongue like this for the rest of the night but uh,” He derides and then shoots a fat glob of spit onto your pussy, watching the way it catches in your slick and dribbles down slowly. Fuuuck, his cock was aching. “M’gonna make a mess of myself down here if I don’t fuck you soon.”

You manage a flushed smile, “W-Would that be so bad?”

His thumb plucks up and presses against your clit as his wet face tips all the way back and he nods. “Yeah,” he whispers, breath hot against your cunt. “Wanna make a mess inside you, instead. S’that alright with you, officer? You gonna let me do that?” Toji asks carefully.

You’d have to be out of your mind to say no to that at this point, nodding yes without a second thought. 

Seconds later and he’s ripping himself away from you and then standing up. Your legs are a bit shaky from the number of orgasms he so casually brought you to just a few moments ago and he’s towering over you all over again, chest lifting and rising as he catches his previously escaped breath. 

God, you were already a gorgeous mess in front of him and he’d only just started. “Slutty lil’ security guard,” He snorts, sizing you up and down, “Wanted to talk about me breakin’ rules and now look at’cha.”

You’re panting just as much as he is, “Shut up-”

“Nah, you shut up and get up on that desk f’me,” Toji cuts off brazenly and it’s downright pathetic the way you do exactly that without another word.

And while you’re propping yourself up onto the desk all perfectly just as he’s told you to, Toji just so happens to look down and spot your gun on the floor. 

He didn’t even realize you’d brought it with you when you came to detain him. He swipes it up from the floor and inspects it for a moment before looking at you again, scoffing, “This thing even loaded?”

“Yeah,” You breathe out unevenly. Honestly, you never knew if the gun was loaded or not but the way it looks in his hand right now and how he’s surveying it thoroughly makes you feel some type of way.

Toji’s gaze flicks back up to you and he cocks a brow, “Why do you look so fuckin’ needy? I ate you out properly, didn’t I?”

You gulp, “You did but…”

You both look down at the weapon in his hands and he smiles, “Kinky girl,” Toji coos, stepping closer to you and then caressing the inside of your thighs to part them wider before asking, “You want me to use this?”

Your lashes bat and you’re flustered by the question alone, sputtering, “I-I’ve never… I just-“

“Yes or no, doll.” He cuts off with this look in his eyes that tells you he's doing everything but judging you right now. “I’ll give you whatever you want, jus’ tell me.”

“Yeah…” You swear you were just curious about it. It’s not like you actually had a thing for gunplay or anything like that-

And then you feel the metal sliding up your skin steadily as it soon grazes your pussy lips until he nuzzles its tip in between them. Smirking, “You like that, huh? Feelin’ a gun against your clit like this..” He whispers as he watches himself work and catches the hitch in your breath. “Fuck. Normally I’m the one to suggest shit like this but you…” Toji’s brows just raise a bit as he finds himself at a loss for words

The fact that he even said normally as if this were something he did often goes over your head entirely and instead, you’re slouching back and gaping at him with a soft moan of, “I.. ah, I what?”

“You’re droolin’ over this.” He points out, hips shifting closer to the desk’s edge, “Soakin’ up your own gun like some whore, goddamn.” The weapon is careful against your clit and while his finger wasn’t even on the trigger, you were still feeling that mix of fear and arousal again.

Cunt slavering all against the material and leaking down onto the desk, you try to flip the script on him, “Don’t act like.. hah, like you’re not getting off on this too.”

There was a slick sound of movement where he was working that gun up and down the slit of your pussy, letting it tease at your hole just to hear you whine before he tugs it back up to your twitching bud. Trying to act like he didn’t understand what you meant, “Hm?” he hums.

You nod your chin toward his slightly bucking hips and let your head angle off to the side, “You’re rubbing against the edge of the table cause you-, mmngh.. you like this too.”

“Course’ I do,” Toji says rather hoarsely before leaning closer and moving his lips to hover over your head, “I’ve got a pretty woman lettin’ me rub her pussy with a gun like she trusts me with it.” Your breath hitches and his cock is pulsing angrily below, “Gettin’ wetter every time I do this,” Toji slinks the gun's slide down and parts your arousal-oozing folds and then chokes out a grunt, “So fuckin’ nasty, I love this shit.”

He teases you with the gun for a while and works you all the way up to the edge just to remove the weapon completely right when you’re about to cum. The way you cry out at the loss of your orgasm has him reaching his free hand down to start working his pants off and at least free his cock from its confines.

Simultaneously, he lifts that now soaked gun up to your face, tapping its tip against your lips and watching your lashes flicker. “Open up for me,” He whispers, to which you release a whine but listen oh-so-obediently, letting your jaw fall open and your tongue lull out. Toji immediately nudges the gun into your mouth and you look him directly in the eyes as you lick your own mess off of it. Earning a raspy, “Thereee you go, lick it all up.” from him.

The man lets you sit there and suck on the gun’s tip for a while so that he can shakily manage his needy cock out into the air. He gives himself a couple of lazy strokes as he watches you clean the entirety of the gun and then when you’re done, he pulls it away from you with a pleased smile.

“Tastes good, huh?” He teases.

You nod and let your tongue swipe out over your lips, “Sweet, yeah.”

That does it for him, hand leaving his length and coming up to your face instead.

“C’mere,” Toji’s searing. He’s all but lost it at this point, he can’t even think straight after hearing the way you called your own taste sweet. It was so fuckin’ nasty but confident that it made his head spin, lips sliding over yours just to dive his tongue into your mouth and capture your syrupy taste back onto his taste buds.

The kiss you two share is filthy and filled with needy groans and moans being poured into one another’s mouths as you hear him toss that gun elsewhere—the item clattering onto the floor off in the distance. Then both of his hands come up to cup your face and hold your head still while he fucks his tongue into your mouth, fighting a whine at the way you meet his energy.

You’re both drooling and drunk off of your own arousal to the point where you weren’t quite thinking straight. The sound of your lips sliding over his was almost louder than the way he ate you out. Hell, it’s almost nastier too. Toji only pulls away to thumb at your bottom lip again and then force your mouth to open wider for him just so he can spit onto your tongue and then smear his own right past your lips.

It was disgusting, really. Yet, not as disgusting as the way the head of his cock feels brushing against you a few moments later. You choke against him and tug your face back so you can look down and his tip is smothered in a glossy sheen of white, creeping forward with a light trickle of more cum that slips against your pretty folds. 

“Oh fuck,” You whisper unintentionally, lashes batting at the raw size of his cock in comparison to your cunt.

Toji’s cock was all heavy and bobbing desperately within the space between the two of you, his hip easing forward just so his plump tip could haphazardly get caught against your pussy. The moment one of his hands leaves your face and shoots down to angle himself to your entrance, you start whimpering at the sheer stretch of what was beginning to push into you.

“Oh, don’t do that, sweetheart,” He coos all sweetly as if he wasn’t breaking you open right now. Then he has the nerve to tilt his head and bring his lips to your ear again, “Spread yourself out f’me, c’mon, you can take it.” Toji murmurs, cock still nudging its big head into you, “Fuuck, you’re gonna take it, I know you will.”

Despite your whines and the way your arms drape around his neck and cling to him for dear life, your cunt was busy swallowing every inch he was giving you, almost as if you just couldn't get enough. “Toji, I-I can’t, pleease…” You’re whispering as your forehead rests on his shoulder, “S’too big.”

Toji can’t even help the way he smiles in reaction, “Y’sound so pretty when you whine like that,” He huffs, pulling a couple inches out of you as if to help you cope. Then he has the nerve to snicker, “That’ good enough for you? Huh?” You obviously shake your head, your hole quivering at the rude loss of his dick so suddenly. He fully expected that reply of yours so he’s quick to hook his arms under your knees and hold you while his thick cock slides all the way in, “Yeahhh, thought so. Pussy like this needs to be stuffed full, right?” He accentuates with one swift thrust. 

Your breath is knocked right out of your lungs as he hits deep, eyes rolling back and a moan flying past your drooly lips as you nod dumbly, “Uhuh.”

His hips reel back slowly and then he uses his grip on your legs to tug your cunt right back onto his cock, “Don’t mumble. Say, ‘yes, toji’.” He mocks.

The obscene squelches from your cunt that enter the air are almost louder than the way you answer him with a pretty purr of, “Yesss, Toji.”

His grunts are rivaling your moans by this point, especially with the way your weepy pussy was saturating every inch of his hard cock. You were fucked to tears in a matter of moments, feeling the way Toji was taking this as an opportunity to use you now.

And to think this was supposed to be your reward for catching him…

It’s not until you’re all cockdrunk and babbling about how good he feels inside you that he starts to heave a bit. Then he picks you up from the desk using his grasp and you almost lose your hold around his neck at the feeling of him bulging into your sweet spot, leaving you a gushing mess on him.

He had you in the air all effortlessly with those strong arms of his, letting gravity drag you back down onto his impaling dick every time he pumped himself forward. Huffing, “This is-, hahh, your last night here, right?”

You nod, “M-Mhm..”

Toji smiles, “Suppose’ I should leave ya’ with a lil’ parting gift then,” He suggests all of a sudden.

Your brows furrow a little and just as your eyes meet his, his hips pick up their pace and his cock is just thrashing all around your insides, a creamy mess of your cum having coated his staggering inches ages ago. Then you feel him twitching inside you and his thrusting is growing sloppier.

Oh.

The parting gift in question was of course him leaving you dripping with his cum, the mess of which drips down with sloppy little plp plp plps echoing out in between the rough slapping of your skin meeting his. And unbeknownst to you—while you were getting thick ropes of cum shot into your spongey walls—a certain someone had crept into the office you left.

When you stopped answering Shiu’s texts all of a sudden, he couldn’t help but grow worried and come by to check on you! So when he found you getting pounded by Toji off in one of the areas you honestly had no business ever stepping foot in, he also couldn’t help but take a seat in your chair and jerk off to the sight.

The cameras provided no sound but that was okay, those slutty looks on your face and the way Toji was stretching ‘n stuffing you were just enough to get him off.

So much for not fucking the scare actors, huh…

tags 1/2:

@2linaaeatsfamilies @scarletmoonshine0 @medusamara5 @needtoloveoutloud @lipstainedgemini

@kaofindj @d43dg1rl @mimiluvzu2 @lululemmington @choso-enthusiast

@brefninanami @stay0802 @chosos-prettyprincess @ersharyzst @blubearxy 

@ravenbc @sugarcoatedsoul @jay4luvsya @melancholic-cow @grignardsreagent 

@littlefuzzybabykitty @designerpvssy @chrysaoraa @noyaswrld @anonimedsk 

@matchaabliss @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @fishosezo @midnightartist @mattsukitty 

@idkstrawbs @kenney7124 @didibxx @st4ryki @aeminrty 

@ifiwereabug @crispycatt @natasaa13 @broimherebcsimboredok @ellkaysdream

@mandistromboli @pussyeaterleah @theuniversesnepobaby @mollysails @ficrepostblog

“Oh, thank fuck! You have no idea how much I appreciate it, man.” Kusakabe bellows in celebration, and Shiu’s forced to lean his head away from the speaker if ever he valued his ear drums.

Atsuya Kusakabe was a farmer specializing in hybrids just like Shiu was, though his friend had taken it a step further and raised only bulls on his farm. Though he really did reconsider this friendship when the other was trying to pawn off one of his biggest bulls on him for a few days.

In his bemused wonderment at his friend, Shiu almost doesn’t register the soft nudge of something against his open palm. Something warm, something silky. He snaps his head down- and a sudden smile spreads across his face as he realizes just who it was.

You’d wandered off from your cosy lil’ corner, and cuddled up to him leisurely. 

“Hey there, girlie.” Shiu whispers, reaching his fingers up to scratch behind your ecstatic ears. You weren’t quite the social hybrid, even amongst your own kind. Always frolicking by yourself when let out to graze, always straying behind the group after milking. 

Shiu couldn’t even tease enough out of you (not even half a bucket!) when compared to the rest of the cows here. But the thing is, you seemed perfectly content with your few close attachments on the farm, your few friends, your rejection of many bulls (and trust that the attempts to woo were many). And whether that was because you’d grown too attached to him, whether that was just the way you were - he didn’t exactly mind.

He knew he shouldn’t have favorites, and yet…here you were.

“Feeling all better?” He’s asking, and you’re nodding languidly. Still tired, then. This season’s heat had been as powerful as ever - out of all his hybrids, it was safe to say that you had one of the strongest.

The neediest.

The sultriest.

Which wouldn’t even have been notable if you’d just let another bull hybrid mount you through them to ease the urges, perhaps even result in a cute lil’ calf for his farm- but that was exactly the problem. 

You didn’t.

Shiu couldn’t even count on two hands how many times he’d tried to pair you off with one of his bulls - and each time had ended in a disaster. Either you’d barricaded yourself in another part of your barn room, or you’d claw your way outside altogether. Each and every time, Shiu would check on you in the middle of your heats to find that you were in the throes of your desires, fiddling with nothing but the toys he’d gifted you, and his sullen bulls would be pouting n’ pushed off to one side. Useless, really.

No matter how needy you were, you just wouldn’t take to them. And it wasn’t that they were particularly weak, or unattractive - there was Ino who you’d just ended up chatting through your heat with, Kashimo and Ijichi who you’d both kicked out, Takaba who you didn’t even look at, Naoya who you…

Yeah, he didn’t want to think about the beaten-up state you’d left Naoya in. It made him laugh.

He wondered who the problem was - those bulls that couldn’t woo you properly, or you who couldn’t be wooed.

He blamed the bulls.

And he’s patting the top of your head tenderly, carefully avoiding the slight protrusions of your horns that were oh-so-sensitive. Mutterly absent-mindedly, “It’s alright, it’s alright. Trust that we’ll find you a proper mate next year, girlie.”

You can only nod unsurely, gesturing at his phone. “Someone’s talking, Shiu.”

“Huh? Oh someone’s-” Oh, right, he was in the middle of his call still. He’d almost forgotten. Shiu tunes into the latest of Kusakabe’s spiel, and it didn’t seem like he’d missed out on anything too important—

“-had no idea what I was going to do for the few days I’d be in Tokyo for the Hybrid Farms Convention, I’ll pick him up right on my way back from there.”

“Mhm, sounds good.” He rattles off.

“You can keep him anywhere you like, to be honest. He doesn’t have any specific requirements, he’s just as sturdy as he is massive- hah! Though, I do give Toji a separate room of his own from the others…just in case.”

“Mhmmm.”

“My apprentices will be taking care of it while he’s gone, all ready for that big boy to be back.”

“Mhmmm.” Shiu lightly furrows his brows—if he has apprentices, and he has other bulls he’s leaving behind, then why did he need to leave Toji in particular with Shiu again? Oh, whatever…

“And you remember what I said earlier, right?”

Well, he wasn’t really listening but…“Mhm-”

“You have to keep an eye on Toji while he’s in rut.”

“Mh-” Shiu’s eyes bug out of his scalp, his knees grow a little weak, and he damn near drops his phone- oh, too late. He’s already dropped his phone down into the green grass below, startling you in the process. “While he’s in what?”

.

.

.

Name: Toji Fushiguro

Age: 30’s (approx.)

Hybrid type: Bos taurus

Height: 6’2+

Weight class: 1600kg - 1800kg.

Other notes: Subject has a sleek black coat, high intelligence, and a somewhat temperamental demeanour. He will insult you if it comes to infringing upon his freedom. Does not care for medical exams. Continuous horn growth that shows evidence of strong fighting capabilities, fatal power, and weapon-like appendages. It should be noted that the subject is of a larger size even amongst Bos taurus (in particular, the Nambu shorthorn bulls) and needs larger spaces of leisure than most. Take care to handle, needs multiple handlers.

Shiu’s face only grows pale as he reads down the medical sheet, quickly flicking his eyes to the very end so that he might be able to spare himself some of the torture.

-particularly powerful ruts with the urge to breed. According to the handler, it is noted that the subject has not spent a rut in the presence of a mate.

Even paler.

To emphasize, he is unmated.

And paler.

And currently nearing his rut.

For the second time in the past 24 hours (which isn’t many times, but it’s strange that it’s happened twice) Shiu’s fingers drop whatever he was holding in shock. Diligently, you’re right beside the farmer to pick up the piece of paper and hand it to him - giggling when he drops it for a third time.

Though, it was by sheer miracle that he doesn’t just faint right then and there.

Oh—he catches a glimpse of Kusakabe’s large white cattle trailer backing up into his hybrid pen and can feel himself teetering already. Thankfully, you were right there to nudge your head against his frame in support, slightly worried for the human man.

Because not only was Toji said to be nearing his merciless rut, but according to the medical sheet that his friend (‘friend’ hah!) had handed to him, he was unmated?

Makes sense, Kusakabe’s farm specialized in bulls.

But perhaps if Toji had a mate then the cow hybrids of this farm would be safe- he casts a sidelong look your way. Perhaps you - with your still-sweetened pheromones, and your even sweeter demeanour - would be safe.

“Something wrong, Shiu?” You’re asking, worriedly.

“N-nothing-” The farmer places a hand on your head and pats, faintly. “Nothing at all, don’t you worry about a thing, girlie.”

Ah, well…Shiu thinks to himself, watching as the truck finally finishes reversing, and Kusakabe (that bastard!) slides out of the driver’s seat to open up the towering steel door in the back. It looked so massive compared to the admittedly above-average man, and that only made Shiu’s tension increase twofold at what may be lurking behind those metal gates.

Ones that seem to burst open with a roaring screeeech—

“Oh, shit.” His mouth was desert-dry, his grip unyielding on you who’d been angling your head to get a better look. “Oh, shit.”

Because Toji Fushiguro was massive.

Dominating.

So many thousands of kilograms of a hybrid that sauntered smugly out of the trailer, as if he owned it. As if he owned this entire farm and everyone in it. 

The rest of the hybrids were drawn in by the commotion, turning their curious eyes towards the refined horns that gleamed as they entered the light. Towards the thundering ground. The powerful flank. The polished coat. The single golden ring ‘round his nostrils.

And you had to admit that you didn’t expect him to be so…handsome.

All ruggedly scarred lips from his tussles, and a face that seemed to be carved by the heavens above. You let your widened peripherals glide down the smooth skin of his front; all broad shoulders, prominent pecs, the cutest golden hoops pierced through his pink nipples, and abs for days. He shakes his shaggy black bangs out of his gaze. 

Those smug verdant eyes that take one look your way - the way that Shiu had his possessive hold on you - and narrow. 

Kusakabe startles as his prized bull hybrid suddenly stops in his tracks, his grip on his leash slightly faltering. And it seems that everyone within the pen holds their breath as a low huff of gruff displeasure leaves Toji, scorching hot fury reaching where you were.

Jaw clenching.

Eyes flashing.

He lowers his horned head as if he was about to-

“Ah ah-” Kusakabe’s the one to break through the charged tension on the farm with his command. He tugs on Toji’s firm leash, though, as a farmer, Shiu thinks he could see the slight waver in his movements.

Toji’s rumbling in refusal, tugging against the restraints. And Kusakabe’s nearly thrown off his feet- before he’s holding onto the side of the truck for balance, pulling the bull hybrid away from where his sights were set. “Easy, boy, easy.” He’s looking at you two with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, he’s just a bit excited with the ru-”

“Ahem ahem ahem-” Shiu suddenly coughs, cutting off the other man. “Better get him settled inside his enclosure, Kusakabe. Don’t want any more trouble now…”

“Ah- right, right.”

And with a slight swat at Toji’s flank, he’s fighting against the hybrid to guide him towards that lil’ enclosure made specifically for him. Shiu had taken care to section it off from the rest of the pen where the cows were, with hardy wooden tree trunks that composed the fences. And not one, but two padlocks that Kusakabe seems relieved to lock once he’s managed to get him inside.

Hands slightly shaking where Toji breathes hotly down his neck, black tail flicking in irritation.

“Calm down, calm down.” The farmer wasn’t sure whether he was telling it to Toji or himself- finally finishing off with the locks and looking up at him. “Now- you be a good boy, alright. Don’t give Shiu any trouble, don’t fight too hard with the other bulls- no use in telling you not to fight, I know you won’t listen to that anyway, and no matter what-”

Toji raises an unimpressed brow as Kusakabe raises a directing finger.

“-no going overboard with your rut.”

“And what exactly does ‘overboard’ mean?” Shiu wearily nears the special pen, arms carefully lifted off of you and wrapped around his own body in comfort.

Kusakabe beams, “No idea! We’ve never had him near cows before!”

Shiu felt like hitting him.

“Well, she just got off her heat-” At the way that Toji’s nostrils flare, his grin widens, Shiu almost regrets saying that with a gesture towards you. Oh? He blocks the bull’s greedy line of sight towards you, and grumbles. “-so no funny business.”

Toji scoffs.

“Use your words, Toji.” Kusakabe pleads, “No need to be like that.”

And he takes a second to pause. To consider. To seemingly mull over his words before- “Eat my ass-”

“Toji-”

“That’s it-” Shiu spits, not waiting for either man nor hybrid to finish before he’s stomping off to where you were watching the commotion from (as was the rest of the farm, but it seems like this hulking intruder had eyes only for you). 

And with his hand placed gently where your flower-patterned collar was, Shiu leads you away from the herd. Away from the pen. Away from Toji, towards the barn where your room was. “That’s it- for the time that that bull is here, he won’t be seeing a single glimpse of you, that’s for sure.”

“But why?” You whine, your head tugging backwards. And Shiu could almost balk at the way that you - you - were half-heartedly resisting his grip, trying to look back at Toji. “Why can’t I-”

“Because.”

And that was that, you were isolated inside the barn, and Toji was padlocked away in his pen. Far, far away from you for the time that he’d be staying there.

And as Kusakabe waves his exit from his farm, promising to be back in a few days, Shiu makes sure to get a good punch in (all in good friendship, of course). Because Shiu Kong was calm. Shiu Kong was composed. Shiu Kong could survive just a few days with an in-rut bull hybrid infiltrating his farm.

“And how long until you’re back again?”

“Three- ouch, three days. You have a good right hook, man.”

After all, it was exactly that - just a few days.

What’s the worst that could happen?

.

.

.

The first day.

Toji could see you.

Through the slightest crack in those barn doors, just the tips of your ears peaking out as you glimpse at him. It turns out that just Shiu’s command couldn’t hold you, and you staggered your way up to the barn doors whenever that damned farmer of yours wasn’t around to see. Watching. Waiting.

Taking in the sight of him.

And it wasn’t that Toji wasn’t used to stares - he was a prized bull hybrid, larger than most. So it was quite the given that he’d gather stares from competition, from unmated cows, hell, even from farmers who would like their chance at raising human-hybrid offspring. And so it wasn’t exactly new…

But just this way you were looking at him…it made him shiver.

Those pretty doe-eyes held up a curious, somewhat fearful, admiration. A slight arousal dampening between your legs that his honed senses could smell from even here—

Toji swears something in him had snapped the very split-second that he’d arrived here.

That he’d first locked eyes with you.

That he’d first sniffed at the remaining sweetness of your heat. Your sex.

Every sense in him right now (even the rational ones) were screaming at him to break out of this enclosure and waltz right up to you, break through those barn doors if he had to. He wanted to smell your pheromones. To hold you. To stuff his hot, throbbing cock between your legs and watch as you struggle to take it all.

He wanted to breed you.

And - multiple times - Toji found himself barging against the locked doors of his pen. Whispering your sweet, sweet name underneath his breath (learned from some of the other hybrids that watched him), ramming his horns against the wooden walls.

He was in rut.

Badly.

Badly, badly, badly.

The sheer intensity of it was more than anything else he’d ever felt- fuck, not even his first rut had felt this strong. It wasn’t that he was unmated. It wasn’t that he was in an unfamiliar place. It was just you, you, you.

Taking the wind out of his lungs. Making his length ache heavily between his strong legs. Wafting his intoxicating scent - something spicily sweet, with a peculiar tang in it that made you drunk on it like liquor, like mulled wine - all the way to where you were watching from the barn doors.

You’re sagging heavily against its wooden frame to take it in, sighing at the murky pheromones that seemed to cloud the entire farm-

“Oi, girlie!” 

And through it all, that damned Shiu had made sure to cockblock him.

Even now,  here came his annoying, grating tone. He’d kept a close eye on Toji ever since Kusakabe had left in his truck, rarely straying too far from the hybrid pen. He was always butting in, always breaking the stare-down between you two.

With one hand on his hip, the farmer watches as you startle at his voice. Suddenly hurrying to stumble back inside the barn where you came from.

And it would’ve almost been cute had it not been a result of you breaking one of his direct rules: do not interact with the bull in rut. But the thing is, you’d never seen a bull like him—and he was in rut? Oh…

Shiu barks out, “Where’d you think you were going, huh? Yeah- that’s right, inside.” And with you gone, Shiu would glare up at Toji. Toji wasn’t shy to glare right back.

“Problem?” He smiles.

“Yeah-” The farmer had crinkled his nose- and pointed at the way that Toji had been impatiently pushing against the enclosing walls, trying to break out, trying to get to you. He spits out distastefully, “-that. Don’t think you’re getting anywhere near her, got it?”

“Not at all.”

That night, Shiu had sent for a few more locks to be delivered from the hardware store downtown (he wasn’t even sure that they did delivery, but he’d coax them into if it meant not taking his eyes off of you). Multiple. He’d fixed them onto the gates of Toji’s pen, “This should keep you out.” Shiu had declared, jangling the metallic additions with one hand. “Not even the finest bulls in the world would be able to break through these. Hah! Take that.”

“Fuck off.”

He’d charged at the other man, but alas, the gates stayed steadfast.

.

.

.

The second day.

Toji had murmured your name like a mantra all night.

All night.

Again and again and again-

“He really doesn’t seem so bad, Shiu.” You’d tried to whine to the farmer, when he’d come back into the barn after fixing a few more locks - the count was reaching upwards of ten by now - on the gates of the bull’s enclosure.

But Shiu had only waved off your pleading noises, “Now, don’t give me that look. I heard the way he was ramming against those gates last night, I heard his bellows.” Needless to say, you had, too…“And I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be out when such a bull is in rut, girlie. Not unless you wanted to be mated- hah!”

Well…

You pushed your quivering thighs together. You’d hate to admit that in the privacy of your room last night, listening to Toji grow so desperate, listening to him say your name like that…you’d actually reached for your heat toys about once or twice.

You’d never felt this way about a bull before- hell, you’d never felt this way about anyone before.

And it was such a strange sensation to be glidin’ up the buzzin’ tip of your vibrator to your clit, massaging that sweet lil’ nub without the carnal pangs of your heat. Just the carnal pangs of…pure need-

“Besides.” Shiu’s cutting through your lecherous memory, and you hope the evidence of your lewd acts don’t show on your face. He gently pats at your head, the way he’s done so many times before. “You don’t need to be mounted by such a big, bad bull. My poor girl.”

“I don’t?” You mutter to yourself.

And Shiu doesn’t seem to catch on, “After all, it’s not like you’re in heat.”

No…you suppose not.

But you can’t help but raise your face into the saturated atmosphere, seemingly so balmy and languid ever since Toji stepped foot onto the farm. And there, you can smell the most addictive scent- fuck, something that just made your core twitch with need.

“Feeling alright, my girl?” Shiu looks on at the way you shiver, and whatever he sees there makes him lead you back to your place within the barn. “Hm, maybe you should get some rest- it’s probably that bull’s pheromones messing you up.”

“M-messing me up?” You’re asking, your entire body feeling set alight. Though, you didn’t feel the slightest bit messed up.

“Mhm- since you’re unmated, just coming off an unsuccessful heat. But it’s alright-” Shiu reassures, starting to shut your door, and there’s a meaningful look in his eyes. “We can try again next year, I have a few other bulls in mind that you might like to mate with. And he won’t be getting anywhere near you until then.”

“He won’t…”

Shiu continues, “Besides, Kusakabe will be picking him up tomorrow, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

You don’t say anything, but you know that you aren’t worried. Not even the slightest bit.

In fact…your body wished he’d be here even longer.

But ah- if he was just going to be taken away tomorrow, then what was the use in wanting? As your wooden door slams shut, you’re realizing that you just might never see him again.

And, outside, Toji only rams against the pen fence even harder.

He wanted you.

He wanted you.

He wanted you.

.

.

.

The third (and final) day.

Or is it…

“What?” Shiu barks into his phone receiver, so loud that it startles every hybrid grazing in the vicinity. All of them were out, leaving the barnhouse all barren by this point - though Shiu didn’t doubt that his voice reached even you inside. And the sheer incredulousness in his tone makes even Toji look over, with a smirk that told the farmer that he was quite enjoying witnessing his distress. But Shiu paid no mind to that.

He couldn’t.

Right now, he was much more frazzled by the words that had the utter fuckin’ audacity to sheepishly leave Kusakabe’s mouth on the other end of the line. Almost in a trance, Shiu pinches the bridge of his nose and repeats. “So…you’re telling me…” Each word tremored with the sheer effort that it took to keep the rage out of them, “That you want me…to come…”

“All the way to Tokyo to help me fix up my engine and save me from being stranded? Yes.” Kusakabe’s voice finishes off, “Shiu, my oldest friend, my dearest pal, have I ever told you how much I love y-”

“Atsuya Kusakabe I will kill you.”

Toji snorts out in laughter, and Shiu is suddenly reminded that he’d been in the middle of fixing up just one more lock to the bull’s pen when he’d gotten the call. Gate held ajar for now. Padlocks unlocked as he fixed them on. 

Glaring at the hybrid for the interruption, Shiu’s pinching the pen closed as he grumbles. “And you need me - you can’t just go to one of the many, many, many mechanics in Tokyo - because why exactly?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Shiu!” Kusakabe cries out, “Do you have any idea how expensive Tokyo is? I just bought a cute lil’ pastry before the convention, and it bankrupted me for generations!”

“And you don’t have any other friends that are closer?”

“Man, if I had any other friends, period, do you think I’d be calling you?”

Shiu supposed that was a fair enough statement. “But- but I can’t leave…” He clicks his tongue, “Just get a train then! Leave that pile of junk at some trash site where it belongs-”

“I mean, I could…” And though Kusakabe’s tone was one of curious innocence, he’d long since learned that nothing ever boded well for him when he used it. He waits with bated breath until the other man continues- “-but that just means I’ll have to leave my truck - including my cattle trailer, which I use to transport my cattle - here. And you know what else that means I’ll have to leave?”

Shiu shivers, “Wh-what?”

“Toj-”

“I’ll be there right now.”

Kusakabe cackles, “Take your tiiime~!” And soon enough, the sharp tone of the call being ended reaches Shiu’s ears.

With one last semi-glare thrown in Toji’s direction, the farmer is speed-walking to his own truck - all those tools Kusakabe needed still inside from his last fix-up. More like running. More like sprinting to save his friend.

Not because he wanted to save his friend, of course. But because every second that Kusakabe was stuck in Tokyo, was a second even longer that you were stuck with Toji on this farm.

All alone.

And he couldn’t have rushed out of here more determined.

More hasty.

More careless-

“Well, would ya look at that.” Toji’s scarred lips twitch upwards into a grin. And he’s reaching one of his beefy arms out to lightly - just lightly - nudge at the wooden gate of his enclosure. Watching as it swings wiiiiiiide open—creeeeak! Bearing the rest of the farm to him with welcome arms. “What a sweet little gift f’me.”

All those pesky padlocks and ties, carefully added over the last few days, were useless if some silly lil’ farmer ever forgot to lock them.

Toji takes such delight in taking that first step out of his enclosure, broad pecs heaving as he takes in the candied trail of scent left all over by a certain pretty cow hybrid. You.

He then takes a second step, a third, a fourth—

And he knows exactly where he’s heading to - the barn.

Where you were just settling in for the day, your feverish body settling atop a particularly soft, tangled mass of golden hay. Cuddling in. You’d heard Shiu’s truck take off, though it would be out-of-character for him to leave so suddenly. You weren’t sure what to think, and you were just about to nod off when…

Creak-creak-creeeeeak—!

The barn door opens.

Shiu? Fluttering open your eyes, you’re just about to raise your head and ask him what all the yelling and commotion was, when-

Oh.

Oh.

That wasn’t the farmer at all.

Toji’s large, sculptured figure takes up nearly the entire door frame. And even from here you can see his sultry grin, his agitated hips. You can smell his intense drunken pheromones—“Room for two, sweetcheeks?”

.

.

.

“I’m- hah, sensitive there…” You’re pouting as Toji relentlessly tugs you by your stubby horns towards him. His overlarge hand plastered to the back of your scalp and guided you down between his meaty thighs - not only had he kissed you silly by this point, but the hybrid had you drenched and quivering all over the hay for more.

But first…

Your watery eyes bulge as you take in the sheer length between Toji’s legs - inches upon inches, throb after throb, all looooong and rock-hard with need. His erection stood right up to graze his navel with glittery drops of precum.

Decorated with so many puffy veins down his shaft that your cunt twitched just imagining how he’d feel inside of you.

Each one pulsated as Toji drip-drip-dripped in gooey sap down his cock, all ready to pierce your hot sex. Heavy balls tightening with even more, with the urge to breed. And you’d do well to remember that bull hybrids in particular were known for having absolutely massive cocks-

“What’cha thinking about, sweet girl?” Toji hums, the point of that nickname proven when he takes a deep, heaving gasp of the pheromone-saturated air. 

Before you can answer, one of his hands slither down to grip that heavy cock of his. Right ‘round the fat hilt where he can move his long length to smack! down between your half-parted lips. Using just the globular tip of his cock, he’s smearin’ apart your maw and just glossing over it with his creamy pre. “You’re not thinking of tapping out already, huh? You’re not…scared are you?”

There’s a slight mocking hint in his tone, nevertheless you’re shaking your head fervently. 

He snickers, “That’s right. You don’t care what that stupid farmer of yours has to say, hm?” And oh—Toji has to stop himself from simply stuffing every inch inside your mouth already, instead wetting your lips enough so that he can sliiiiide in. “You’re not really such a good lil’ hybrid like he says- huh?”

“No-” You’re hiccuping out, “Not at- mmpf.” 

Only for big, bad Toji to rut his cock against your mouth. Shutting you up with his flared tip, you can taste the pure arousal seeping into your mouth.

All warm n’ wet on top of your tastebuds—you’re drooling around his thick tip before you even know it.

“No, because you’re a baaaaad girl, aren’t ya?” He’s tutting, swiping away the splatters of saliva that just kept on leaking from the edges of your mouth- and instead, he’s reeling back to replace it with a jetstream of his own spittle. Straight onto the middle of your tastebuds.

With a second hand tugging open your mouth, Toji takes a nice look at that gluey wad sitting on your tongue- before he’s plunging his rude cock right back in between your lips. “Because you’re- haaaaah, careful, careful, no teeth- because you’re my good girl, aren’t ya?” Staring at you with half-lidded green eyes, “Allllll mine.”

“Mmmpf—” You’re muffling out around his raw girth, Toji was just so big that your maw was constantly open in this lecherous ‘oh’ shape.

Gobbling his veiny inches up even deeper and deeper, you’re only growing wetter at the way that his bawling divot scrapes down the roof of your mouth. Swervin’ left and right, and reaching for that cute lil’ dangly thing at the back of your throat-

“Ever taken a bull’s cock before?”

Choking at the lodgement in your throat, “N-no—”

“Yeah? Thought so. Ever taken anyone before?”

Shaking your head.

“Well then, she’s taking me so- hah, well.” Toji’s crooning out from above you, fucking his hips in sloppy half-thrusts inside your mouth. That rough line of his happy trail ends up scratching the tip of your nose, and you find that his intoxicating scent only grows stronger the closer you get…“Haven’t you had breakfast today, sweetcheeks?”

With tearful eyes, you’re looking up at him in confusion. “Mmm—ngh.”

“Ah ah- flick your tongue at my tip if you wanna say ‘no’—oh, just like that.” And then his mean, scarred lips end up formulating a mocking pout. “Such a cute tongue, can’t believe she’s gone hungry for so long- ngh.”

“I-” Tears stream down both your cheeks, and you’re panting out through each thrust of his achin’ cock. “Fuck, Toji, you’re just so big-”

Other hand pushing on the back of your clammy head, deeper n’ deeper. His superhuman strength was just incredible- “And look, she’s just become so greedy.” As if he wasn’t the one tunneling every spot inside your mouth, spotting it with his pre. “Don’t you know you don’t have to take any more, sweet girl, don’t you- oh—” Toji accurately hits the back of your throat, a direct thud! of his globular cockhead. He grins, watching you salivate around his cock- “-oh, fine, if you insist…”

“You’re- hck!” And the fact of the matter was that he hadn’t even fully bottomed-out yet. Criss-crossing your eyes, you spot that you had even more inches to go- “You’re so ngh-”

“And you want me to bruise the back of your- oh, throat, you say?” Toji’s cutting you off with his mean grunts, smack after smack of his heavy balls. 

They graze the front of your chin and make you feel such carnal pangs, your cunt grinding back against your heels. “I didn’t even- oh.” But too late - his geysering divot was already bruising away back there. 

Push after push.

Probe after probe.

Until Toji’s shaft had stirred up every single hidden spot inside of you, and he was swelling up even more like he wanted more, more, more—

“Toji-” Your nails claw down the pale expanse of Toji’s thighs, just so plush rippling underneath your touch. “Toji I want-”

“Ohoooo?” His raven brows raise in amusement, a mean grin spreading across his face. “The good girl is making demands now, hm?” As you whimper away, he’s thrashin’ at the back of your throat- again and again. “I guess I can’t just keep listening to her, huh?”

Her? Who…oh. 

He was talking about your thoroughly damp pussy, with the sappiest noises leaving you each time you’re pushing back on your heels. Soaked with desire.

And Toji seems amused by your shocked reaction, “How cute…go on then, sweetcheeks. Go on. Lemme know what that cute lil’ heart of yours desires.”

You’re pulling back from his red, glistenin’ tip with a lecherous pwah! “I-I want…” You’re sobbing, lashes fluttering in a way that makes- oh, you won’t be mad if he told you he was getting even harder now, would you? “-I want to feel you, Toji.”

To feel him?

To feel him?

His hazy peripherals snap down to see the way you were eyeing his long, long length. And then he’s realizing - oh, you wanted to feel him inside, did you?

Inside…fuck.

Your eyes damn near bulge out of your skull at the way that Toji’s rock-hard length only seemed to grow even…bigger at your words. Flaring up until he was red-hot at the tip, all slicked with a glaze of saliva and pre.

Toji smacks his painfully hard shaft down once more at your maw, “What dirty, dirty words- and from such a good girl?” He scoffs.

And just as you’re about to explain yourself, you’re suddenly feeling near whiplash at the way that Toji grabs onto your throat and flips the two of you around. Hoisting. Manhandling. Ending up with his back against the floor, head against the hay, and your naked cunt drivelling right above him. 

So wet and pretty.

Toji’s mouth waters at the sight of your damp, glistening hole. And he can’t help but immediately reach one hand over to thumb apart your puffy pussylips, pressin’ apart your folds and spitting straight into your hole.

“Or were they words from her, hm?” Toji’s gruffly snickering, flopping that wide tongue of his out to catch your droplets of slick. “Talking out of that pussy, hah- you’re even dirtier than I thought, sweetcheeks.”

Your thighs ache as they hover, slightly chasing the warmth of his mouth. “M’n-not dirty! I just wanted to feel you…” Casting a longing look behind at his throbbing length-

“As if. And you can have my cock-” You look up hopefully at his answer, how cute—you couldn’t even properly fit his cock inside your mouth, and now you think you could fit him inside your cunt? “-but first I’ve gotta stretch this dirty girl ouuuuut.”

“But, I can take- hngh!”

As if. Before you know it, Toji’s slithering his long, looooong tastebuds inside your cunt with absolutely no warning, no hesitation.

Just the ridged texture of his muscle slithering inside, and you’re quivering at the sheer size of him. And he feels the tightness of your circular innards and grins- “Woah…” Just a single taste of you, and his pheromones are blasting out in pure need. “Don’t you know that you hafta stretch ‘er out first, hm? What- never done this before?”

Gingerly, you shake your head ‘no’.

“Oh- reeeeeally.” Just pryin’ aside your folds, you were so fucking wet that that honeyed slick splashes down onto his face like a puddle. Toji rolls his eyes, “I would’ve never thought.” 

You huff n’ puff atop him, “Don’t- don’t tease, Toji-”

“Why, m’not teasing..” He’s spitting on your cunt yet again, letting the dewy excess trickle back down into his throat. “I already know that this pretty pussy hasn’t been satisfied like she deserves. I can fucking taste it-” Tunneling back in again. “Can hear it.” The most lecherous slurps echoing in your ears as he does, the bull’s ears flick your way to listen to it. “She wants only me- heh, wants me to be her first, doesn’t she?” 

Slurp-slurp-sluuuuurping as he’s rovering his tongue, somehow contracting it and extracting it in a way that massages your velvety walls.

Again and again.

“All you hafta do is sit there- all pretty, and take it.” Toji croons, and something dark glints within that gaze of his as he catches your lost expression. “What? That dear farmer of yours never taught you how to take it like a good girl when yer being eaten out.”

“N-no-”

“Then let me teach you—” Oh, you knew he didn’t bode well by the way that he said it. You knew it. 

And in a split-second, Toji has one hand plastered at your hip, and the other veering upwards to smack! down on your swollen pussy. “Ah ah-” As you buck, that hold he has on you grows numbing, and you’re sure he’s leaving nail marks there for weeks. “Toji’s first rule- don’t run.”

“I won’t—” You’re swallowing your words back just as soon as you say them, because just then- two of his rovering fingertips intrude their way inside your cunt.

Not even waiting for you to get used to him, not even faltering as you squeeeeeeze.

He’s straightly stuffing two of them inside your snug channel, the bulbous ends of Toji’s digits digging into each of your hidden spots without even trying. Turning them over. Pushing into every nook n’ cranny n’ crevice over and over- “Oh my god-” Bellowing out, your body starts to move back and forth against him - as if it didn’t know whether you wanted to bounce down or run away- “Toji, I’ve never felt something like this- ngh.”

Only for a loud smack! to ring out against your wet pussylips once again, and for Toji to haul you back onto his mouth with his beefy arm. “What’d I say about rule number- hah, one, hm? Silly girl.”

He was stopping you from running from it.

He was looping one of his thick, beefy biceps ‘round your waist, stopping you from moving away from his open-mouthed kisses. “Good.” Pulling you in so close that his golden nose ring presses frigidly against your clit and makes you flinch. “Atta girl- atta, sweet girl.” Toji smirks against your cunt, once you try squirming your hips and find that you can’t move even a single inch. “Now squeeeeeze those pretty legs around, I don’t care if I fucking suffocate, use me, sweetness- that’s the second rule.”

“Like- like this?” You ask, your whiny pitch trembling just as much as your legs were by now. Feebly, they attempt to straddle Toji’s head properly. 

To which it almost looks as if the bull hybrid was about to laugh—“No.”

Numerous more spanks of his fingertips on your cunt, and soon enough you’re finding yourself completely limb atop him. As he fingers you to tears, rotund fingertips scouring all the way to your cute cervix-

“I mean-” From your hips, his hand is then moving to your thighs. Wrapping around them to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze- until Toji felt light-headed. “-like this.”

“I think m’d-doing it.” You’re gyrating atop him wildly by now, finding a staccato in time with his thudding! fingers. Not only were they thick, they were just so long too - and they left you feeling dizzy with his vulgar strokes, with his incredible scent.  

“Third rule, fuck back into me.” He commands, with that specific tone of a bull in rut that made you want to listen to him immediately. Your hamstrings screamed in protest as you continue, “Fuck her back into me- harder now, aren’t you a cow hybrid? Buck.”

You could barely even believe your ears, “You’re just so fucking mean- fuck!”

“Yeah, yeah, just like that.”

And Toji’s tongue? Oh, he wasn’t just staying still - not at all.

Toji had his tongue wrapped ‘round your throbbing clit and spanking down with his tastebuds. “And the fourth and final rule-” He gurgles through the wettened wads you were seeping out,  “-is to get ready.”

You’re blinking your teary eyes back open, looking down at him in shock. “Get ready for what?”

It takes a few more probin’ thrusts before he can bear to pull away- and that, too, with the loudest smooch! The bull hybrid’s pants come out in heaving gusts, scalding air making you quiver at the sensation.

“Get ready…” Toji rattles off, after a few sultry seconds. And oh- you wonder, why was his tone octaves higher? Why did he sound so breathy? Why was there something…crazed in the way he said it- “-because you think a bull hybrid in rut would really be this nice, sweetcheeks?”

Jaw dropping, “Oh-”

“You don’t know how painful it was to hold myself back-”

And before you know it, your spine’s arching as you struggle to accommodate him- struggling to handle the raw primal pressure of his thick tongue and two- three of his fingers plunging into your hole. Pushing and pushing and pushing—

You’ve become masterful at rule number three, it seems, as you’re pressing your thighs upon either side of Toji’s face until he groans. 

All of his appendages just reaching all the way for the very back of your cunt—“Ohhh, please-” Your head throws backwards as you feel him fuck you with his tongue like he was trying to ruin your inexperienced pussy. “P-please-”

“Oh m’ having a pleasant time alright.” Toji snickers, his heated pants leaving your skin perspired. The mountains of his knuckles were striking your outer pussy so hard now that they were starting to grow red on his skin. “S’fuh-fucking sweet.” Stinging.

Plap! after plap! You’re moaning as his mouth unhinges undeniably deeper to let even more of his tongue’s inches inside. Stretchin’ out your cute orifice, “Gonna hafta stretch her at least twice- haaah- twice as fuck! much if you wanna fit my cock, sweet girl.”

“Twice as much…” You’re repeating breathlessly, you couldn’t even begin to imagine it. It already felt like Toji was pulling you to your very limits - so even more…

“Rule number five- just made it up, heh.” Toji spits out - literally, a glittering glob of spittle that sticks to your slit. It slides down to your hold and makes it easy for him to thrash his tongue inside like an animal- like he was frenzied by his pheromones, like he couldn’t control himself from push-push-pushing.

Not even at a controlled cadence- Toji couldn’t stop himself from squishing your sweetest spots at the very back of your cunt. In almost no time, he’s finding that cute lil’ heart-shaped g-spot of yours - and Toji’s fingertips and tongue were fighting over which one gets to press on it the most.

Again and again until you’re in actual tears- “Rule number five is- ngh, you have to take it.” Holding you to him, until your cunt folds were plastered against his puffy lips. “Take it all like my good girl if you wanna finally take my cock.”

“Please-” Being pummelled away to the maximum, it’s all you can say like a constant mantra. “Please please- ngh! Please-”

“That’s all that dirty mouth can say now?” Toji tuts, “Tch- what happened to wanting me inside? Wanting my cock? Wanting to be fucked like the slut you secretly are?”

Primal swabs, again and again.

Twofold.

After each word, Toji’s tongue sizzles against your tender pussy - lips glued so deeply against your folds, that you can feel him lappin’ away every ounce of your slickness.

It drips slightly down his chin, and leaves your cunt slipping on top of Toji’s handsome face. You grab onto his large horns with a yelp- “Oh! Fuck, Toji- did I really say that?”

“Of course you did- hah, gallop, sweethearts.” With yet another spank, he rovers his face even deeper between your trembly legs. Nose-deep. Skin-deep. So deep, in fact, that the veins on Toji’s sculptured neck pop out.

You’re unsteadily bucking against him on instinct, and that leaves the man groaning. “Just like that.” Swallowing up every inch of your outer cunt, you’re being pierced by the relentless ministrations of his tongue again and again—“You asked to be fucked like a slut- hngh, and that’s exactly what m’giving you. Aren’t I just the beeest mating partner, sweetcheeks?”

“But I didn’t-” You’re babbling out, drunk on the vicious scrape-scrape-scrape of his intrusions. His fingers pushed just as your g-spot, and you could feel him glissading down even deeper. Deeper. Deeper. “-I didn’t say that—”

“Oh, didn’t you?” He’s hazily looking up from between your legs - there was something bleary in his eyes, something gone. “I think I remember-”

“Well I don’t-” As you’re raising your voice, you can’t believe it- Toji’s powerful tail wraps around your thighs and drags you back down.

He rumbles, “Rule number one…” In warning.

And it’s only with a few more thuds! that Toji’s pretending to remember just what you’re whinin’ away about, his dark brows shooting up to his bangs. And you can feel your treacly cunt quiver with the vibrations of his laughter, “But ah- I remember now.” His eyes crinkle into slits of amusement, eating you out until his nose ring slicks with your syrup. Just the notion is enough to leave his pheromones heightening, “I believe you said…‘you wanted to feel me’.”

Mouth dropping in recognition, “Oh- I did.”

“And what did you mean by that, hm?” Toji speaks through the ringing slurps, zap after zap of pleasure. “You’re already feeling me here-” Pokin’ at your g-spot, “And here-” His tongue snakes out to suck on your clit once more. 

“I just meant I wanted to feel you- hck!”

His sweaty brows furrow, “But yer already feeling me-”

“No- more like I wanted to feel your-” You’ve never spoken words like this before, not even in the throes of your worst heats. You glance back at his twitching erection, “-there.”

“My where?”

“Your- your cock, Toji!” You’re wailing out, your legs feeling numb at the way he strikes your sweetest bundle of nerves. “I wanna feel your thick, looooong cock- please.”

Oh, you really were such a dirty girl. He’s gnawing down on that nub of your clit, “And where do you wanna feel my thick- looooong- cock, hm?”

You’re stammering, mouth growing less in-your-control the longer he’s making a mess of your poor pussy. “Inside-”

“Inside where?”

“Inside my cunt-” And you’re shocked you manage that out without stumbling over your words, gryatin’ back into his open maw with sly figure eights. But even that wasn’t enough—

Toji rolls his eyes, such a mess. Such a shattered mess. Just pushing and tasting and lavishing his tongue all over- “Say it again-” When you’re repeating your sultry words, “More- dirtier. Be good f’me, girl, say it again-”

“I want your cock inside my cunt, Toji.” You’re whimpering out, you’re shaking. Feeling the inexperience bubble within each of your veins, because the hybrid was just having so much fun corrupting you. “I want it inside- want you to fuck me with that cock so badly-”

“Atta girl.”

Forcing you to say those lecherous words, forcing you to cum—

“Oh my god-” With your back arched, you’re throwing your body into the wave of pleasure that suddenly bursts inside your body. “C-cumming- I’m cumming, Toji-”

“And it’s all because of me.” He’s smugly saying, perfectly puncturing at your g-spot with his constant pushes. 

Because of Toji’s rut, his senses were so honed that he could mark each peak of your high- the explosion of bliss that he pinpointed with his fingers, with the slashes of his tongue. “Heh- me.” With a wet chuckle, Toji’s tongue was going to lick up every inch of your pussy like he was frenzied. Couldn’t get enough. Lap after lap. “Me me me me-” He sucks on your clit, letting his canines nibble lightly on them, and it lets out the most lewd sluuuuurp. “-and look- she’s thanking me.”

“Fuck! Never felt something so good-” Whining out, you’re bouncing your back into each of his hits. “-might be the best orgasm I’ve ever had- hck!”

“S’a pleasure, sweet girl.”

By the time the best of your high bates, Toji still hasn’t let up between those syrupy legs of yours. When he’s licked up every droplet of sap you’re letting out, he’s moving over to lick at the sheen of slick glued to your thighs. 

Again and again.

Until you’re all the way overstimulated, and tears start to drip as if from a faucet. “I th-think m’done, Toji.” As if he already didn’t know - you’re pushing at his clammy head. “My orgasm’s over, I wanna try taking your cock now-”

“And you’re sure?”

He wasn’t asking to be nice. He was asking to make you turn your head and balk at the way his impossible size had only seemed to grow even bigger. Your lips wobbling, “Y-yes.”

“Oho?” Dark brows raising, he stops his ministrations and moves both hands to now grip at your waist. “Well, you did tell me to put my ‘thick, looooong cock inside of your cunt’-”

“So shut up and do it.” Huffing in embarrassment, you pound at his muscular chest - and he could barely even feel it, like kitten kisses on his bulky body. It’s enough for Toji’s cock to jolt with need, and for his attractive face to break out into a grin.

“Atta girl.”

And with that final compliment, Toji’s making to grab onto your waist and lift you off of his face—with the loudest smooch! It’s ringing out like the prettiest melody in both your eardrums, and Toji just barely manages to disconnect himself with your sweet pussy.

Just barely breaks his lips from your tender folds, all slickly glossed.

Just barely wrenches you off with ease, and takes one nice look at your hole - when you’re realizing that Toji Fushiguro suddenly stops. His nostrils suddenly flare. He suddenly stutters-

“O-oh, sweet girl. I don’t think you even realize-” Toji gawks up at your cunt. And you’re feeling somewhat shy when he filthily leans his features in and takes a good, long sniff at your cunt. As you’re looking up at him in confusion, “-you’re in heat.”

“In heat?” He sets you down near his rugged v-line, and you’re animalistically grinding your cunt down on his thickened length. You look up at him for answers, “What do you mean? Shiu said I’ve already finished my heat-”

“Fuck what Shiu says, silly girl.” Lightly spanking your pussy, Toji rolls his sage eyes. His pupils were all blown-out and bleary with lust, only darkening the more he takes in your buttery pheromones. 

Oh, you smelled like the sweetest freshly-whipped cream - and that only made his mouth water as much as his swollen cock was. Drenching the cute innards of your thighs n’ your pussy mound with his sap, he grins. “I can smell it.” He parts his scarred lips, a thin line of saliva trickling down one side. “I can fucking- taste it-”

“Oh—” You’re gyratin’ back against his plummy cock tip, oh-so-lewdly. And you take another sniff of yourself, reaching up to feel that your scent glands have swollen up. “I g-guess you’re right-”

“Sugar, I am right.”

Before you know it, the world’s a blur around you- and suddenly you find your back against the soft hay. Your head being cushioned by one of Toji’s rugged palms, Toji’s large body hovering over you. Pressing you down-

“And this pretty pussy’s tellin’ me that this is yer first heat with a bull, hm?” Sliding his thumb between your glossy crevice, he listens for the squelches. “Awww, how cute—so m’your first, sweet girl?”

“Yes- yes.” And when he places his fleshy cock between your legs, at that sweet spot where you wanted him the most, you can’t help but realize that oh- he’d been stretching you out for so long for a good reason.

Because Toji’s hybrid cock looked absolutely ginormous between your legs, especially with the way he’d thickened up in size while eating you out. His cockhead was as red as a huge strawberry, and multiple times bigger. Bull hybrids, famed for the shaft length - now slipping n’ sliding between your pussylips.

Just kissing at your geysering orifice- “Oh- fuck.”

“And you know having you on top would be the easiest for her…” That said, he’s swatting his rough fingertips down on the nub of your clit. He’s spitting. He growls, and it’s enough to send shivers down your spine- “But m’still gonna have her in a mating press.” Throwing your legs over his shoulders, folding you damn in half. “Because you also forget one- fuck-” Just feeling you clench around nothing, enough to make him reach up and grab at a wooden beam. “-thing, sweetness.”

“And what’s that, Toji?”

“I’m in-” Hard enough that the wooden beam breaks—“-rut.”

Fourth rule, remember?

Because you didn’t think that he’d go this easy on you when he’s in fuckin’ rut, did you? You didn’t think that he was going to fuck you nicely, did you? You didn’t think that he wasn’t going to act like a damn animal, did you?

In a sudden motion, Toji’s plugging your hole up with his thick cockhead- and shoving it deep into your deepest insides. Long. Hard.

You’re yelping, nails finding purchase on his deltoids and clawing on for dear life because- “A virgin, are ya?” He tuts, “Don’t think m’gonna go easy on ya.”

“Oh my goodness-” Thighs curling around his toned waist, hips attempting to buck away. “Holy fuck-”

“Easy, easy.” It was just so cute the way you were struggling - especially when you were talking so big about wanting him. “Breathe in, girl- there ya go.”  You’re following as he instructs, “Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in—” And suddenly there’s a sodden spank at your pussy, “-you, too, pretty pussy.”

Something that catches you off-guard, and makes you swallow him up an inch deeper. Your eyes rolling all the way to the back of your skull, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- I’ve never felt like this. You’re so big- hold on, Toji, you’re so-”

“Hold on?” 

“What-”

“Hold on?”

He’s then spitting out into your open mouth, and slapping your pussy so hard that you’re seeing stars. Instantly, you’re set on edge by the way that his rugged cock suddenly slams- “You’re telling me to h-hold on?”

And was that a stutter in his sentence?

A laugh?

Toji Fushiguro sounded like he was fucking losing it by merely hearing your whining questions- “You seriously want me to…” Clawing down in front of your body, one of his rude hands press down on your stomach as he’s sinking iiiiiiin. It makes you feel every ridge n’ vein, every inch, every bit of his thick shaft intruding in. “-hold on?”

“It’s just- I just didn’t think you’d be so big-” He was barely even halfway in and you could already feel Toji at your throat, gushing out sticky wads of slick. With your feet planted on the hay-littered ground, you’re trying to arch your back nearly away from—

“Oi- who said you could tap out?” Before you know it, Toji’s hand lifts from your thigh to grab onto your tail - one pulling you in by the tail, his right hand still feeling for that tummy bulge he was fucking into you.

You can’t get away by the way he’s manhandling you back down into his hips, skidding straight across the barnyard floor. “Tch- ya need ta be herded or what, silly girl?” Grazing his dark happy trail against your front, the curly tufts of it scratch your clit. “Come back t’me- rule number one, remember?”

“Fuck-” Throwing your head back in tears, your legs were limp from the sheer pressure being put on your lower half. “-I can feel you reaching in so deep-”

“And you wanted me to hold on?”

He was never going to let that go - he was never going to give you even the slightest second to get used to his incredible length. 

Palm pressing down on the cylindrical outline makin’ itself known on your tummy - just that big. Pelvis moving in a rapid, urgent half-thrusts-

Toji isn’t even waiting for your cunt to take it all, his red cockhead probin’ just inwards. Inwards and inwards and inwards. He can feel the tight resistance of your pussy, your sweet body unable to take him whole right now- and it only makes him groan.

With his head thrown back, he’s letting go of your tail to smear apart your pussylips. “M’in fucking rut and you wanted me to hold on-” He’s hissing, pushing your snug folds so far apart that you have no choice but to take his hammers. “Been teasing me with that s-sweet scent ever since I fucking got here and you want me to hold on-” Pulling you to him. Dragging you to him.

Toji breaks every single second that he’s not fully sheathed inside of you, and he’s just pummeling his hips deeper- “Hold on, hold on, hold on.” After each mention of his mantra, he’s rutting in. “You want me to h-hold on and-” Harder. “-and you know what-” Deeper. “-I want to do, sweet girl?”

“What-” You’re gasping out through your tears, sticking to both of your cheeks by now. “What do you want, Toji?”

“I want to- fuck! Well, first I want to fucking fit-” He’s whispering underneath his breath, darkened eyes narrowed as he takes it in. “Fit- fit- fit-” Before you know it, he’s spitting down once more on your cunt and shoving his cockhead inside. “-fucking fit-”

Blinking away the tears in your eyes, “And- hah, and what else did you want?” By the heightening of his pheromones, you already knew that it was something about to ruin you.

“I want…” He was teasing you now, just lightly grazin’ that blushing hot tip against the roof of your cunt. You could feel him filling up every sneaky orifice, and Toji was fucking you like he’d just gone feral- “I want to-”

“Oh, fuck!”

With a final, lewd thrust- Toji Fushiguro bottoms out.

“-breed ya, sugar.”

And he meant it. The massive bull hybrid was drilling into you like a madman- his cattle nose ring clanging with each rut. “I’ve been wanting to breed you since the moment I stepped foot here.” Toji growls, the red crown of his shaft directly heading towards your cervix now. Bruising. “I want to fuck- fuck you through every day of your heat- my rut.” And he was emptying out such long strings of precum into your womb, “Try to get you pregnant every single day of my rut.”

“You’re going to get me…” Your pupils are swirlin’ in comical circles within the whites of your eyes, and just the mere notion makes your tastebuds sizzle with saliva. You hadn’t spent your heat properly with a bull- let alone found yourself mated by one.

Bred by one.

“Fucking pregnant.” Toji finishes off with a snicker, pushing against that cute lil’ tummy bulge that he was pounding into you. 

“Oh, please-” You’re throwing your head back with a mewl, “But I’ve never been m-mated to anyone before. Are we sure it’s going to take, Toji-”

“I’ll make it take.”

His jackhammers were so hard by this point, enough so that your sap splatters out of you in puddles. It glistens right down the inner parts of your thighs, and Toji swipes his thumb down from your pussy to glaze it in the syrup. To reach up to his scarred maw and suck on it.

And when he feels your spit-slicked lips start to wobble out more concerns, he’s pushing that very thumb between your own lips.

“Shut it, silly girl. Ya really think that when I hah- when I fuck you like this—in this mating press.” As if on cue, his manhandling strength seems to be folding you even deeper in half. “With this pretty pussy-” Dragging out a few more slurps with his thrusts, “-and my rut- you’re not gonna be walking outta this barn stupidly pregnant?”

“I-I don’t-”

“Silly, silly girl.” It’s a rude thwack! of his curvaceous ball sack after each slam, and you can feel your body grow more restless after each of his spat-out words. So mean. “Silly lil’ hybrid thinks she’s gonna make it outta here- hah, without bearing my calves.”

You’re shivering, your body so limply fucked by this point- that Toji’s tail has to wrap around one of your thighs. Holding you up. Interlocking your ankles around his neck with that silky tail- “Well, since m’inexperienced-”

“And m’gonna give you the experience of yer life- heh, I already am.” 

He was - he really was. Just making you see stars every time Toji’s overlarge, plump cockhead dug into your g-spot. Somehow he’d managed to map the insides of your walls, and each thrust grazed his length against your sweet bundle of nerves. 

Probing and probing a bruise exactly the size of his round circumference- “M’gonna corrupt you, sweet lil’ thing.” A sleazy smile spreads across Toji’s handsome, perspired face. “M’gonna fill you up with so much of my cum that- hah, they’re gonna be milkin’ it out of you for months afterwards, sweet girl.”

“Fuck, I’d like that-”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’d like that s-shoooo much, Toji.” 

“Bet you’d like it even more after I fill you up with my calves, hm?” He titters, pheromones slowly growing saturated enough to mingle with your own. “After I fuck this pretty pussy pregnant ‘nough times that she remembers how it feels when I fill you up? After I breed you until we can- hah, fill this whole damn farm with them? After I make a momma out of you and no other bull can ever even think of touching you-”

You squeal, “Yes- yes yes yes yes-”

His tail tightens around your ankles, horns charging as if he was only growing more n’ more excited. Throbbing with more need. “And you better fuckin’ know that these are promises, sweetness. That no fucking farmer can ever break.” Toji stares you deep in your heart-shaped eyes as he says, “I will get you pregnant.”

“Oh, I’d fucking hope so.” You glide your hands down your front, “I wanna feel you right h-here, Toji.” Down where your womb was.

Fuck…you were dangerous for a bull in heat.

And his entire body feels feverish with need, the burning sensation of his rut overtaking Toji completely. 

As his hips only grow sloppier, you’re grazing your sweaty palms further down his body. Starting from his shoulders, before ultimately you end up squeezing Toji’s massive milky pecs.

Even for a bull, they were just so plush. And you can’t help but twiddle your thumbs ‘round the golden rings that he had pierced through his pinkish nipples, lecherously.

He shivers at the sensitive sensation, “O-oh? Look at you.” Snapping his head down, you swear you could see a rouge flush take over his cheekbones. “You’re corrupted already.” And both of Toji’s own hands end up removing from your stomach and your pussy, ending up- oh, you could’ve already guessed.

Both of Toji’s hands end up on your tits.

Squeezing.

Kneading.

Before you can say a word, he’s already growling out- “And as any momma would- we’re gonna hafta make sure you’re making enough milk, huh, sweetcheeks?” That last bit of his sentence ends up drowned between the valley of your chest.

Toji’s gaping his maw wide open and sucking on your right tit, his left hand pinching the nipples of your left tit.

“I don’t think anything’s gonna come out just yet-” Your tail swishes in arousal as you watch him hollow out his attractive cheeks, thoroughly sucking on your tit like his favorite lolly. Sucking like he was trying to make milk come out—“I never did produce…much…milk…”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you’re being proved wrong. Because with a gushing sensation, you can feel your hardened nipples stream out something straight into Toji’s open mouth. “You were saying?” 

Pure white milk.

And he was such a messy eater, your ivory syrup dripping down his lips. It glosses them and created the sweetest lacquer that Toji himself was addicted to- “Mmm, so much, sweet thing—fuck.” He’s pinching at your left tit, too, a splashin’ puddle of milk that he immediately plops his mouth over to gulp up. “Ya really are a sweet thing-”

“I’ve never made this much even for the farmer-” You’re gasping, and your milk cascades down Toji’s chin like a waterfall. Constant. Sloppy “How did you even…”

“Because you’re in heat.” He says- choppy, through the way that he barely wanted to speak, barely wanted to remove himself from the sweet fountains of your spurting milk. “Because m’in rut.” Toji’s hips smack into yours so hard that you see white for a second, and his happy trail perfectly carnally itches at your clit. “And tonight- we’re gonna make a fucking baby, sweet mama.”

“O-oh—” With your voice cracking, you’re reaching your high. It comes instantaneously, and you arch into Toji’s glissading muscles as you ride through it.

As you’re fucked through it.

“Cumming again?” Toji’s marvelling, his words thick - he had his mouth full, after all. Smelling the saccharine sweetness of your orgasm in your pheromones, he’s marking each peak of your high with a bang! of his reddened cockhead. 

Slowly opening up your womb even more, your g-spot felt so red-hot and raw from the inside as he just kept on thumpin’ away there. Again and again and again. “Of course, ya are- fuck. Just like thaaaat, fuck back into me- third rule. They say the momma needs to cum good if we wanna get you pregnant after all-”

“And what about you?” Still in the throes of your bliss, you feel absolutely no inhibitions in babbling away. Drunk on the thick, veiny size of him fucking you through your high—“Aren’t you gonna?”

“Gonna what?”

“Fuck…”

“Rule number six-” Toji pipes up, a mean glint in his eyes. “-is to use those words like the big girl you are.”

And you best believe that he was fucking you like he was trying to push the very words up to your throat, his veins massaging your sweet spots and making you shiver, his pearly white teeth back to sucking on your milk. “I want- hah!” You wince when his right hand slithers down to pinch your clit, “-you to cum- fuck.” You moan when his left keeps toyin’ with your nipples, streaming out dairy for Toji to swallow up. “-inside my cunt, Toji.”

And there—his eyes slightly widen in interest, “You really said it.” A proud smile gracing his face, “You really, really…oh.”

With a few more lewd thrusts, he’s emptying out his heavy balls. 

They tighten as they spurt out the creamiest wads of cum waaaaaay back into your spongy womb, suckin’ up each pearly droplet as Toji fucks them inside you. Splashing out. Pooling out. That bawling divot in the middle of his shaft just leaves a murky mess behind, ribbons of ivory that glue your walls together.

“Oh fuck-” He’s clenching his canines, you swear he’s holding back tears—“And you’re gonna take it-” Toji snarls, fighting against the urge to throw his head back - simply because he wanted to look at you as he stuffed you till you were overspilling. “-take every single last drop-”

The hulking bull hybrid shakes as you clench your velvety walls. “Oh, yes.” You’re shivering once he smacks! your clit once more, swirlin’ those sultry webs of seed with his fingertips.

Toji’s pushing them inwards, again and again. “And yer gonna keep it, aren’t you?” Fucking you, again and again. 

He hums, gluing the edges of his fingers inside your channel, so that not a single gumdrop can leak out of you. “Second rule, sweetness, squeeze those pretty legs. S’gonna tell that pussy to keep my cum inside- give me a lil’ calf, heh.”

“Shit- keep talking and I’ll…”

It’s too late for you. You’re so far gone on his pummeling length that with a few more strokes, you’re reaching your high once more.

White-hot.

Toes curling.

Back arching.

You can’t even control yourself, it’s the most powerfully sinful sensation you’ve felt in your entire life. And this time, not only are you overspilling in Toji’s glutinous white cum - you’re also spraying out your own slick. Translucent splashes of sweetness, so powerful that your entire body shakes. 

Your high was being dragged out of you.

Squirting. You can’t believe you squirted during your first heat with a mate, your first heat mounted.

And as he instinctively bucks his hips through it, your new mate swears- “Fuck- fuck, don’t tell me you’re- oh. You are. Turns out I milked you dry, hm?” Something in him oh-so-triggered by the way you just kept on drippin’ from that pretty cunt, it’s as if the hybrid part of him knew that he had to do something to stop you from losing so much of it. “Rule number four, my sweet mate.”

But no bracing in the world could prepare you for what you felt in that very moment - because suddenly you’re feeling a strength so incredible that it’s as if you’re being split apart. “Your- your knot?”

“Damn right.”

You just had to see this for yourself. Chin hitting your chest as you watch Toji push n’ push the incredibly swollen base of his cock inside you. It was so round n’ red, about four times his actual circumference. 

It sinks in with a lecherous sluuuuuurp—and Toji empties out a few more streaks of cum just from the sheer sensation of having his sensitive hilt sheathed inside of you. Isn’t that every bull’s dream? To have a mate as pretty as you, choking and overstimulated around his knot? Ready to take all of him until you’re pregnant-

“We’re mates now.” You’re still shivering from the shockwaves of your multiple highs, so overstimulated that you don’t hear his murmurs. Sobbing, you’re tugging cutely at his nipple piercings to garner his attention. “Wh-what was that, Toji?”

“I said–” Roughly, he pulls off from your lactating tits. Your milk drivels down either side of his greedy maw, “-that you know a bull’s rut lasts days, right, sweetcheeks?”

“Oh.”

“Guess we have a lot to learn…h-heh.”

.

.

.

Shiu was halfway through his drive to Tokyo.

Halfway through his window cracked down halfway, his dark hair playing in the breeze, head nodding in time with the beat of some early 2010’s pop hit that’d surprisingly managed to calm him down during his drive.

Sure, Kusakabe had completely ruined his plans and forced him to leave you unattended on the farm - but Shiu can’t help but almost feel grateful towards his friend.

After all, it’s not every day that he gets to go out like this - the life of a farmer sure was a busy one. And it was such a nice day out, driving along smooth and silent in his truck like this was almost therapeutic. He’s almost considering getting an apprentice or two so that he’d be able to do this more often. He really thinks he could find inner peace like this, maybe all those self-help magazines he grimaced at in convenience stores were onto something. A man needs time for himself, too, y’know?

Yeah, time for himself. Time to just wind back, enjoy the highway, just appreciate the beauty of the world, y’know?

Halfway through a drive of peace and quiet, when he suddenly realizes-

And Shiu’s stepping so hard on the brakes that he wouldn’t have been surprised if about five other cars smashed into him from behind right about now. And he wouldn’t have noticed, either—”I left the gate of the bull in rut fucking unlocked-”

Immediately after he remembered, Shiu had gone and done a (likely illegal, most definitely illegal) U-turn right then and there. Heading right back where he came from, he’d cut off multiple cars, almost run over some unsuspecting old lady in his haste to get back to his farm - Kusakabe be damned, his best friend could rot in Tokyo until the end of time for all he cared. After all, he was the one that caused all this!

Shiu made it back home in less than half the time it took him to halfway down his journey to Tokyo (he’s sure he ran a few red lights).

And he’s fumbling with the keys of his gates, forgetting his truck and sprinting right up to where his cattle hybrids were. All cooped up inside the pen, they hadn’t gone into the barn still - and yet, with one sweeping glance, Shiu can’t really find any missing.

So he almost dares to breathe a sigh of relief- before his eyes catch the placement where Kusakabe’s bull had resided. Where Toji resided.

And Shiu’s heart drops at the same time as his jaw.

It was empty.

Quickly, he’s suspecting just why the cows and bulls outside weren’t going inside the barn, and Shiu takes another look at his herd—fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck - there was one missing.

And he knew exactly who it was.

In urgent, jerky motions, Shiu’s throwing open the gate to the pen (this time double-checking to lock it behind him) and heading straight towards the barn.

The barn where he can hear the rustling of hay, where he can smell the saturated sweetness of hybrid pheromones, where he can see—oh, you on your hands and knees, with your pretty ass raised high in the air for Toji’s cock to plough into, his powerful body. You’re all sprawled out on the hay, saliva and milk splashing out of you at a constant pace. You mewled as he stretched out your cunt so mercilessly, again and again and again. The plump knot ‘round his base hitting your pussylips with almost painful thwacks! 

And by the ribbons of miry cum that clung onto both your lower halves, Shiu was safe to assume that this certainly wasn’t the first round…

Shiu’s nostrils flare, and he’s realizing that this wasn’t just the heady scent of Toji’s rut - it was your heat, too. That luscious creamy smell that made his mouth water, and his cock twitch in his pants as he took in the sight-

BZZZZZZZZ—!

Thank god his phone was on silent mode- Shiu hastens to pick it up before either of you can hear. Though, he doesn’t think he’s very successful with it.

Because just as Shiu places the crackling phone against his ear, whispering out a quiet- “H-hello?” He sees that Toji’s smug, handsome head turns in the direction of the barn door. And he’s smirking straight at the other man as he claims every inch inside of you, Toji’s honed tip pinpointing into every tiny nook and cranny. 

And if that wasn’t enough, he’s leaning down to grab onto your leaky tits- and squeeeeeze out a pure white stream of your milk. Much more than Shiu’s ever been able to tease out of you during milking sessions.

He was making his mate known.

Slowly, Shiu backs out of the barn without you noticing (though, you were so deep in the waves of your carnal pleasure, that he thinks it would’ve been impossible to get your attention anyways).

Only once he’s out of the headiness of the barn does Shiu finally manage to register the other man’s voice-

“Hello? Helloooooo? Man, where are you now-”

“Hey, Kusakabe.” Shiu speaks, still slightly dazed. Still slightly staring through the barn doors from afar - all because of a fucking gate. “Take the next train here from Tokyo- no, don’t worry about your truck, you can pick it up later. No, you don’t need the cattle trailer anymore.”

Kusakabe sputters, “Huh? But why?” At the other man’s silence, one could almost hear the moment that understanding sets in. “Oh man- oh wait, don’t tell me that Toji and that sweet cow hybrid of yours has-”

“Yeah.” Shiu grits, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Unrelated, but would you happen to know any good names for calves?”

A/N. YOU ASK AND DADDY PROVIDES (not child support tho-) YES I SAW Y’ALL IN THE COMMENTS-

“A waste?” It’s not like you ever even wanted to have sex with someone before. Your jaw sets now, eyes shutting for a moment, another tear traitorous in its escape. “Not all of us love to whore around.”

“Whore around huh,” he crosses his arms now, watching your eyes flicker open. “Admit it.”

“Admit what!?”

“That you’d do anything if I asked,” you swallow down the pain, biting down on your lower lip as his voice drops an octave, a mean caress that sends shivers down your spine. “If you asked pretty enough maybe I’d let you suck me at least.”

Your pause earns his smirk.

“Holy fuck, you would? Hmm,” his cruel gaze gets darker, snowy lashes flickering just a bit. “I guess I’d consider that, but I wouldn’t touch you.”

“I don’t want to,” you finally breathe out. “I wouldn’t… do that with someone who hates me, who doesn’t even want me to exist.” Satoru blinks a bit when you slip your bag higher on your shoulder. “I’m glad that you didn’t.”

It’s utterly quiet.

“Please move.”

He steps aside and you pass by his dumb fucking secretary sitting right at the chair you do, her blouse unbuttoned, just smiling at you, the anger rising like bile in your throat. You’re humiliated again, and you almost said you would – you’d do damn near anything if the man you’d been infatuated with – promised to at that, gave you a tiny bit of attention.

It was all a game to him.

“Have fun boxing,” she has the audacity to say, laughing just a bit at you in the fucking place you live in, in the chair you cry in. You feel so much rage it doesn’t even feel like you – it’s like it belongs to someone else. “Your gloves are so cute!”

“Jennifer,” ah, that’s her fucking name, coming from Satoru’s lips. “Come over here.”

She hops up obediently and you turn to gaze at Satoru by his bedroom door, eyes unreadable, smirk off his face, you don’t even want to know what’s in his mind, even if it’s something half way decent for you. You don’t want to live like this, to have someone so blatantly disregarding your feelings.

“Could you all please keep it in the room?” You ask then, she giggles and Satoru raises a brow. “I live here too, for now.”

“You think the maids wouldn’t clean up all the cum from every surface?” you can’t believe him at that moment. “But yes, we can while you’re still in my home.”

His home.

He makes it dead ass fucking clear, as if you didn’t already know he hates you here, that none of this is going to last because he can’t wait to fucking have you out. You shut your eyes for a moment, hands pressing into the wood of the door before you rush out of the opulent, ostentatious home.

It was once a dream, to drive by Gojo’s home and imagine yourself as his wife, so enamored with the man you thought he was and the kindness you remembered as a child that it felt like a dream come true. Yet it was anything but that, it was all just a cruel joke, much like your life.

Satoru was right on one thing, you did everything to live up to your parents expectations, and that included remaining ‘pure’. If they even knew that you were headed in your car to go boxing of all places and things to do, they’d likely be appalled at you.

Ladies don’t do that – Satoru’s wife doesn’t do that.

Just the small thing for yourself makes you smile a bit, hands gripping the wheel tightly, you swear you see Satoru’s curtain flutter, who knows maybe he’s got her pressed up on the window, pleasuring her and making sure the world knows how he wants anyone but you.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad, you were trained to be the perfect wife even if Gojo did cheat, and you could handle it, as taught.

Yet he didn’t even touch you, his words echoing in your ears and making you so ill you almost throw up remembering. Proving his point – you had so desperately been eager to sink to your knees right for him, if he’d just look at you with anything other than hatred, if he’d brush your hair back and give that look he had when he was with other women.

You can’t be everything your parents want if he divorces you anyway, it’ll bring so much shame on your family and there’s nothing you can do to salvage it, so you have to try to find who you are. You don’t even know – it’s so sad, if someone asked you what you liked you wouldn’t know what to say.

Who are you?

The thoughts keep coming as you sit in front of the boxing gym, so nervous now, not to do something new completely.

Sukuna makes you nervous.

You’ve not felt whatever it was when those ruby eyes hit you, whatever that gaze was on his handsome face. You’ve been hit on plenty, you’ve had boys have crushes on you, yet you had to remain ‘all intact’ and ‘proper’ so you never explored that. Even so, Sukuna looked at you differently, and it felt like a physical touch.

Satoru, it felt like an assessment – Sukuna, it felt like appreciation.

He saw things in you that you’re not sure are there from one meeting – that you weren’t eating, that you’re a mess, things you keep so hidden from even yourself, the perception terrified you. You don’t know what to think about it, how to interpret it, maybe you’re over thinking it too.

The dream last night didn’t help, him kissing up your throat, hand gripping your hair at the nape of your neck. To get him involved in any capacity was dangerous for your family’s reputation, and you’re ‘married’ so surely he wouldn’t want that. Yet those images make you blush.

Even as you walk in now and see a boy standing next to him that looks almost identical, just a shorter, younger version, you smile nervously and wave.

You feel Sukuna’s gaze assessing you, and just that alone is more than Satoru has given you in your marriage. The way he looks at you makes you feel…

Good… Was good the word?

Nervous, apprehensive, tummy fluttering. You swallow nervously, trying not to overthink it – You’re here to get stress out, and maybe to learn who you were, to find an existence away from being ‘Satoru’s wife’.

******

Sukuna

"Sukuna seriously," his annoying little nephew Yuuji is up at the gym with him today. The kid has a hell of a right hook and a hell of an annoying way about him.

Sukuna couldn't help but let him stay with him when he also wanted to get away from all the pressure that came with their family. But now the kid stays over far too much, bringing his friends over and soon dragging them all to the gym too. Sukuna has a bunch of teenagers constantly annoying the shit out of him.

Yet he can't complain, it's good for the business, and it keeps Yuuji and the other kids out of trouble. Yuuji is only eighteen after all, Sukuna is twenty-four – thus the 'mentor'.

Hah, what a mentor he must be.

"She's married!?" Sukuna glares now at the blurted out fucking statement, and Yuuji quickly hushes. "I mean... I know you're all ‘anti the family’ this and that but really?"

"Will you shut your trap kid," Yuuji glares right up at Sukuna, he's damn near a smaller version of his cousin, just with brown eyes instead of red. "I haven't done anything, she's just..."

You walk in then, as if on cue, holding your hands together in front of you nervously, some cute pink pair of boxing gloves that are ridiculous, pink duffel bag slung over one of your shoulders. He can't help but smirk a bit at how… cute, you’re fucking cute. Shy and adorable.

Yuuji eyes you as well, then him, curiously.

"Shit," Yuuji never cusses, so Sukuna raises a brow at him, seeing him run a hand through identical pastel locks. "That's her?"

"Don't say shit in front of her, if you do I'll make sure not to take you to Cabo this summer," Sukuna threatens, but Yuuji frowns, looking intently as you come closer. "Get it out now. Your moral high ground on my thoughts."

"She is very pretty," he murmurs, frowning. "And she does look... she looks so sad."

Sukuna pauses then. You give your best effort with a tremulous little smile, walking up to both of them, taking a breath and holding a hand out to Yuuji.

A forced smile, but it’s as pretty as you. What’s a real one look like?

"Hey there!" You say, Yuuji takes your hand in his, smiling sweetly at you.

"Hey there, welcome to the gym," He's friendly, sweet even. "We have lockers over there if you need!"

"Perfect I'll be right back," your eyes catch Sukuna's and his breath falters. He's never felt anything like wanting to fuck the sadness right out of your body. He knows it's already obsession, already fucking ridiculous. It doesn't stop him. "Sukuna, it's good to see you again."

"You're late," he teases gruffly, you sigh and glare a bit all cute, a look he didn't think he'd see, it does something to him. "Just a few minutes though. Go get ready."

You rush off and Yuuji puts a hand on his chest over his dark blue hoodie, wincing a bit. "Her pain, like I feel it?"

"Yeah," Sukuna mutters, the kid has always been... fuck, what's the word? Empath or some shit. "I know."

"Just... be careful Sukuna. You don't know who she's with."

"I'm not afraid of anyone, have you seen me?" Yuuji rolls his eyes.

"Yeah I saw you, and you couldn't even stop the drool from coming out of your mouth." Sukuna scowls, fists clenched at his sides, one step making Yuuji back up. "I've um... gotta go!"

"Nice to meet you!" You wave at Yuuji as you come out, in a little sports bra and shorts, as if to fucking torture him. Yuuji waves and smiles sweetly at you, leaving Sukuna alone with you in the quiet of the gym. "He looks just like you! Your little brother?"

"Annoying nephew," you laugh a little, the sound doing something to him again, fuck he doesn’t know what it is. Yuuji is right, he has to be careful, to try to hold back.

But holding back really isn't Sukuna's thing.

"So," he draws on the words, seeing how you hug yourself a bit around your waist, as if you're nervous to have it bare.

It takes a lot of effort not to just touch your body, make you feel as pretty as you are, see how those eyes could light up if you came all over his mouth, if he drank you. He knows he can't say that shit, so he instead teases you, tugging at the little ponytail you're wearing.

"Tell me where you got these dumb gloves, and you better tell me you've fucking eaten something too."

“They’re so cute, excuse me!” You cover your mouth then, eyes lowering. “Sorry that came out so rude-”

“I like it, see if there’s something feisty underneath all this,” he gestures to all of you then. “Perfect little girl, time to mess you up. Get you all sweaty and wrecked.”

He watches a blush dance on your cheeks underneath the bright lights overhead, you shift just a bit, nodding. “I want to see if there is, too.”

“You don’t know?” He asks, and you sigh, blinking back tears again.

Fuck what’s happened to you to make you constantly on the verge of them? Sukuna wasn’t some ‘mr fix it’ especially when it came to women. He liked things simple, fun, unattached, never has he been so obsessed with what’s going on in a mind like he is yours.

Be careful. Could he be?

“I want to learn who I am, I know I’m like twenty four and don’t know,” you shake your head a bit and sigh. “Quarter life crisis?”

He snorts at that. “You make jokes?”

“I don’t know,” you answer softly. “I’m trying?”

“Meh it wasn’t that funny,” he shoves playfully but you’re so damn weak you stumble, he grabs you quickly, holding you too closely. “You said you ate.”

“I did, I swear, just still feeling it I think?” Your hand rests on one of his biceps, he sees that blush up close, spreading down your neck. “I really ate dinner and breakfast!”

“Can’t box if you’re falling over and shit,” he sighs, his hands still on your waist, shaking his head a bit. “I’ll show you some basics, you just pay attention for now. I’m grabbing you a protein bar.”

“I’m okay!” Sukuna ignores you, coming back with a bar and shoving it unceremoniously in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, your eyes are too pretty looking up at him like that, and he needs to make you comfortable. Not do every filthy thing he keeps thinking of – fuck that sadness right out of you. How can he fucking think that? “Come with me, and you better finish it.”

“You’re bossy,” you tease, he snorts and rolls his eyes, feeling the warmth of your skin with your close proximity. “It’s good!”

“Hmm, you’re just starving, those suck,” you sigh, chewing thoughtfully, when he shows you to the training area. “You need some muscle so I suggest doing some light weights first, then next time maybe I’ll let you hit a bag.”

“Got it,” you murmur, mouth just a little full, the wrapper crinkles a bit as you down it. “Maybe I was hungry? I’ve not had an appetite.”

“Yeah, sounds like…” He trails off now. “You have stress at home.”

You laugh a little without humor. “You could say that.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightens just a bit, feeling his teeth press together in irritation at the thought of whatever has you like this. Yet in just a good twenty minutes you relax your shoulders just a bit, you smile a little more real and not forced, he watches as you ease just a bit with every movement.

“These are tiny weights, I can do more,” you pout as he puts ten on each arm. Sukuna shakes his head. “I can!”

“Yeah champ okay,” he grabs twenties and watches your arms drop down, stabilizing you and smirking. “You’re a regular Arnold.”

“Oh hush!” He takes them and tugs and your pony tail again, you dab just a little sweat off your brow.

“You are bratty, see?”

“I am so not,” you get a little quiet at his hands on your wrists then, clearing your throat and looking down so shy and cute.

Sukuna would just corrupt you.

You’re clearly an innocent little thing and his thoughts are about as far from that as they could be, it’s hard to pull back and act casual – as if this is normal and he just grips on his clients’ fucking biceps. You’re so fragile then as he studies you for a heartbeat too long, you don’t move away, just staring up at him. Your pupils dilate and make your eyes too damn pretty.

“You good?” He manages to ask, rubbing the back of his neck, annoyed by whatever the fuck effect this is.

“I am, thank you Sukuna,” if your lips would stop moving like that, if your voice would stop sounding that way, maybe he would be all right and not throbbing just inhaling your scent. “You’re very sweet.”

“Me? Tch, m’not sweet,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle again, turning away so you don’t see the dopey grin on his face before he gets rid of it, turning back and raising a brow. “I’ll show you some movements and you can come hit the bag tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sukuna wraps his knuckles as you look around a bit. “You are seeing me after the gym closes, you don’t have to.”

“I usually stay after anyway,” he just wants to fucking be alone with you. “Not a problem.”

“I’ll come a little earlier tomorrow, if that’s okay?” Your brows draw together.

“I don’t care, whenever, come hold this for me. I won’t accidentally punch you, don't worry.”

“I didn’t think so,” you go over and hold it, gasping when you feel the impact, looking at him curiously. “You think I’ll really be able to hit this thing?”

“Mmhmm, of course you will,” he takes it easy, even if you’re behind the bag he doesn’t want to scare you. He typically doesn’t have girls in the gym.

He shows you a few of the basics, and you study him carefully, he doesn’t realize he’s getting distracted until he stops punching and focuses on you, you’re watching him intently, your eyes flickering down his body, then to his lips before shooting back up to his eyes quickly.

Sukuna smirks a bit at you, walking around the bag to stand in front of you. “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” you squeak out, lashes trembling. “You look – I mean you are very good.”

He snorts at that, you’re too fucking cute. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He leans against the bag now, stepping closer and looking down at you “You’re were staring.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, eyes lowering. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be, I don’t mind,” he murmurs back, his eyes lowering to your lips, watching them part just slightly. He leans in a fraction, your breath catches – he hears it, a sharp little inhale. “I’m just teasin’ ya, okay?”

Sukuna’s voice is soft to his own ears, he almost feels the need to be gentle when it comes to you, you’re so delicate and afraid. You nod and wring your hands a little bit in front of your lap. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I look that good?” He’s chuckling as you cover your face all cute. “It’s okay, I already know I do.”

“You’re teasing me!” He eases your hands down, sighing at the contrast of his huge hands around your wrists.

“Yeah, I was, don’t take me serious, yeah?” You nod and just stand there, when he drops his hands and clears his throat. “Finish up, then I’ll walk you out.”

You just stand there for a moment, breathing softly as he watches you bite your lip now, staring at him nervously. He wonders what you’d do if he just kissed you? He wonders how you’d taste, if you’d melt into him, if he could kiss you on every inch of your body.

He can’t be this way.

“Okay,” you whisper, turning away to grab your stuff quickly. He walks you out silently to the back exit, the cool air whipping your hair around – this time of year, it was chilly and dark early. “Time went quick.”

“Yeah,” he looks at you carefully then. “What had you almost in tears this morning, or can you not tell me?”

You tug your bag closer, sighing. “The other woman was just… in my fridge and on my couch and it threw me off.”

“Other woman?” You nod. “In your house?”

“Yeah, I could handle it if maybe he could keep it to his room,” Sukuna’s brows raise now and you hesitate. “It had me upset more than usual.”

“You just… are okay with it?” You look down at his lips once more, if you don’t stop doing that he’s gonna lose his tentative control. “Why?”

“It’s arranged, that sounds archaic–”

“Nah,” Sukuna sighs now. “Let me guess, rich family?”

“Yeah, are you?” He smirks. “The name sounded familiar? I don’t know how I didn’t put it together.”

“Yep,” he drags out that word with a pop of his lips. “I’m from that shitty ass line of family, I just decided to tell them all to fuck off. You should try it, it’s fun.”

“Saying ‘fuck off’ huh?” You giggle again, shaking your head as he smirks down at you. “That’s impressive to not bow under pressure.”

“I just wasn’t one for rules, decorum, I just don’t give a shit,” he shrugs a broad shoulder. “Arranged shit was in my parents’ plans but in that I also told them to fuck off. But that’s enough therapy.” He flicks your forehead, you rub it and glare.

“Ah, stay all mysterious,” you tease just a bit, hesitating and then turning. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Mhmm,” you turn to look at him one more time, suddenly stepping forward and tip-toeing, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Fuck.

You should not do that.

“Thank you again,” you murmur shyly, stepping back quickly and rushing to your car like you’re embarrassed by the little action.

Sukuna jerks off that night to a kiss on the cheek from a shy, sweet little woman who is married, and wishes he felt worse about imagining decorating you in ropes of cum, but he really doesn’t. Moreso he’s irritated you’ve made him so pathetic in the span of a couple days.

He was fucked.

*****

You

You’re wolfing down eggs and bacon when Satoru walks out the next morning, eyeing you curiously at the array of food on the counter. You should tell him to fuck off really, just like Sukuna said you should tell everyone but some part of you would like to not hate Satoru Gojo, some part would like some sort of peace or even an understanding, for him to stop his cruelty to some extent.

So you smile, and he pauses, shirtless and just in his boxers, but your smile freezes on your face when you observe the dark hickies littering him right over his pelvis. It’s his turn to smirk as he walks closer to you, putting a coffee pod in casually, as if it’s normal to have hickies on your v cuts by your happy trail.

Why are you hurt, you knew he was with her?

“Good morning,” you manage to try to be cordial. “I made a big breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“You know I have cooks,” he says, nibbling a muffin then moaning, his snowy lashes fluttering shut. “Oh fuck.”

“I like to bake,” you say with a little shrug, he pauses as he watches you nibble your own. “It gives me something to do. I think I may… get a job or something.”

“Why, you have enough money you never need to even without me.” 

“Why, to give me… something?” You say, shrugging a bit. “I’ve never been able to work other than at charity functions, so I guess my resume would be kind of shitty though.”

“You don’t need to work while you’re here, it would just look bad,” you blink again. “Maybe work with me but…”

“Yeah, no,” he chuckles, as if it’s funny. “Bad enough the secretary is over at my… your house, now.” You correct yourself, tension between you both rising as you stand in the kitchen, his eyes sweep over you.

“Going to box again?”

“I am,” you’re wearing a sweater over your top this time, hanging just a bit off your shoulder, his gaze drifts down to it. “I think I like it.”

“Ah,” he steps closer, leaning down. “You ever figure out how to touch yourself?”

“If I did I wouldn’t do it thinking of you,” he glares and you smile now. “You’d be the last guy in my mind.”

“Sure, sweetheart, keep tellin’ yourself that, I see how you look at me,” you scoff, tensing when he brushes his fingers on your shoulder. “I can tell by every reaction you want me.”

You smack his hand off and he smirks. “You told me we’d never do anything, be anything, so stop trying.”

“Ah, you gave up on your little goal? Don’t wanna leave better marks on me than Jennifer?”

You feel sick.

“You know what, Gojo?” He raises a brow. “You’re not just mean, not just cruel, you’re sadistic, like you don’t just want me gone, you want to torture me.”

It’s quiet now, you blink back tears of frustration, of pain, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“I said I’ll not try again, and I mean it,” you look away. “Whether I want you or not, I never will.”

He continues his silence, when your gaze meets his it’s softer, blue eyes unreadable, as if there’s a hint of humanity in him. What a joke, what a delusion to think he’d have even the most basic empathy for you.

“I didn’t do anything to deserve how you act,” your whisper breaks in the middle, traitorous tears leaking. “All I did was try. Now I give up, you get what you want.”

Satoru’s fists clench at the sides, taking a breath now. “You’ll thank me.”

“I’ll what!?”

“You’ll thank me,” he murmurs again, slipping your sweater up over your shoulder, fingertips brushing. “For not letting you be with me, for letting you have your own choice.”

“Acting like you’re being such a great fucking guy,” you never cuss but it spills out, when out of frustration you shove at his chest, not like he’ll move, glaring up into his eyes. “Mr. ‘hold on let me cum’ really? There’s no world where I’ll thank you for what you’ve put me through these past few weeks.”

You rush out past him and hear him murmur your name, you ignore it completely, gathering your things and rushing out, tears swimming even as you drive over to the gym. How can Satoru continue to hurt you like this and then have the audacity to act like he’s being kind!?

You barely get yourself together, peering in the mirror to fix yourself up, dabbing concealer to hide your sleepless night. It was hard to sleep when your husband was loudly moaning across the house, and when you kept thinking about Sukuna and the little kiss on his cheek.

Was it too far? Would it be weird?

Why do you want his lips so bad? Sure, he’s handsome, but the pull is more than that, as if you know he’d be able to kiss you the way you always dreamt – as much as you’re trying to hold back, it’s there. The feeling when you step into the busy gym, seeing Sukuna training in the ring with his nephew, he tackles him down and laughs so loud it echoes off the walls.

“Hey! Off me!” Yuuji shoves at him, but he’s way bigger, you blush as you think just how huge Sukuna is, he’s even taller than Satoru and you thought that pretty impossible. “You cheated!”

“Didn’t cheat, kid, you just weren’t paying attention,” his gaze hits you then, and he falters, only to get slammed down by Yuuji quickly.

“Hah! Got you,” Sukuna smacks his hand away as he grins, he’s literally adorable, the sunshine to Sukuna’s grumpy nature. Your heart tugs just a bit with affection at the sight, when Yuuji sees you and waves. “Hey, did you see me stomp his ass?”

“I did,” Sukuna snorts and stands on his own, brushing off his gym shorts, leaning a bit against the ropes and taking you in. “Hey Sukuna.”

“You’re actually on time,” he peeks at his watch. “Early.”

“Breakfast too,” you grin and he chuckles, suddenly it’s like that gym is just white noise and it’s all him, hopping over the ropes and down the platform, the sounds of sneakers squeaking on hardwood and punches drowned by your beating heart. He comes to stand and cross his arms, ruby eyes assessing you. “Protein, it was all protein filled.”

“Good,” he ruffles your hair like you’re Yuuji, you huff a bit, but part of how touch starved you are? You want him to keep patting your head, almost leaning into the quick little touch.

What’s wrong with you?

He’s friendly, kinder than you are used to – your own parents were not much better than Satoru, yet their cruelty was more in dismissing you, in the strict nature they raised you, the coldness. You grew up privileged and know you shouldn’t feel sorry for yourself, but the pain was there, only having been made better by the dream of Satoru taking you far away.

Some dream, a cinderella tale, you’re not sure what the fuck you were thinking, were you enamored with his pretty eyes, his kindness? With Sukuna you had those butterflies like you did that night Satoru unzipped your dress, but it was without that sinking feeling in your stomach.

The next couple days you spend at the gym – sometimes watching him, sometimes training a bit, the people there are all so friendly it feels nice. You find yourself there longer than usual, a little stronger, you keep waiting for Sukuna to let you spar or something cool, but he eases you into a few different things.

You enjoy him so much you find yourself staying after and wiping down equipment, seeing him raise a brow and laugh at you, telling you to go. But what’s waiting at home? Satoru and whoever he decides to bring home for the evening? It’s not just the secretary, you wish that it was only her in fact, she at least pretended to be a little nice to you.

You’re not sure if Satoru even works or if he just gets his dick wet.

You pass him in the morning and see one of them knocked out in his bed with the door cracked open, and that’s when you feel a deeper pain, eyeing him sleeping next to her. They’re not cuddling, but she’s sleeping in his bed. Alone in the room that was made for the two of you, staring up at the ceiling and touching your lips, thinking of kissing Sukuna then.

You can’t.

You shouldn’t.

Two wrongs don’t make a right, but something about that sends you over the edge – pushes you to where you don’t feel so terrible thinking of what you want to do. It’s just a step further even for him, your interactions get even shorter, he doesn’t taunt you as much since you got upset in that kitchen, but now it’s like living in a home where you’re unwanted.

You can’t wait to leave, for whatever he needs to figure out to cause the least scandal, you’re tired of smiling on his arm for the get togethers, only to sit on opposite sides of the backseat of that limo in the quiet. You’re lonely until you go to that gym, but you know it’s nonsense, Sukuna has not tried to kiss you or cross that line, even when his touches linger.

He’s a good man, a good uncle clearly, maybe a good friend – and all you can think half the time is those tattooed hands touching you longer, in places you know you shouldn’t want them. Trailing your hands up his biceps and feeling the strength in them, falling into his kisses until you’re dizzy.

It’s hard not to think of it when you watch his body move.

He’s shirtless today as if to distract you more, the way he’s built is enough to make you miss your punch, earning his chuckle, teasing glint in his ruby eyes. “Distracted?”

“No,” you’re such a liar. This morning threw you off seeing that girl in his damn bed, and now you can’t stop staring at your trainer’s body. “Just a bit.”

“What’s on that mind of yours?” Everyone has left for the day, you and him are all alone in the enormous gym, your pink gloves on your hands.

“A lot,” you murmur, punching the bag again and again, remembering to cross as he showed you, then wincing a bit as your wrist twists. “Ouch!”

“Bad angle, lemme see,” he carefully slips it off, thumb brushing your inner wrist, you suck in a breath. “I think you just kinked it a bit. Does it hurt to move?”

You shake your head, but you don’t move your hand, you keep it in his grip, biting down on your lip so hard it hurts. He’s too close, too fucking big all over – you shouldn’t think of everywhere. Not like you’ve even seen one aside from Satoru after he’d been inside that ‘jennifer’ whatever the fuck her name was, and that didn’t make you ‘excited’.

You’re curious at times, at how wet you get around Sukuna, but as a sheltered girl who was hardly allowed friends – and they’re all trad wives – there hasn’t been much talk. ‘Let your husband do anything and just live that way’ was damn near their advice – though that did land you here, after all.

“You’re real distracted,” you sigh, nodding. “Lemme guess, your husband has a new girl over?”

“She slept in his bed,” you blink back emotion, shaking your head, Sukuna just quietly checks your wrist, moving it a bit. “You’d think I couldn’t hurt anymore, couldn’t feel anymore pain about it.”

“I think you’re surprisingly calm about it,” he says then. “Arranged or not, how would anyone not want you?”

Your world shifts on its axis at his gruff little confession, you’re blushing furiously now, stepping a little closer, feeling his warmth near you sink in. “Sukuna, that's sweet.”

“You keep trying to call me that,” he shakes his head – thumb slipping across the delicate veins raised on your inner wrist. “I’m not sweet.”

“You are to me,” he scoffs. “You make me feel better, that is sweet.”

“The things I’m thinking are as far from fucking ‘sweet’ as they can be,” you gasp then, when his hand slips up your arm, before he stops himself, pulling back when you wish he wouldn’t. “How innocent are you?”

“Very,” you admit. “But you could tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Hah,” he has one arm on either side of you when you press against the bag you’d just been hitting, he’s right behind you, cupping your face with a calloused, rough hand so big it takes you over. “You’d run out the door if I told you half of it.”

He backs off then, leaving you trembling, hand on your chest, going to open your mouth when he hops down as if to rush away from you. Terrified you’ve fucked it all up you hop down too, rushing to get your bag, Sukuna comes back with a little brace for your wrist and glares.

“You running off?”

“I made it weird,” you mumble, suddenly so insecure. If your own husband could fuck anything but you, what made you think Sukuna would want you being married, complicated, messy.

“I was just getting a wrap, get over here,” he tugs you over to him, sitting you on one of the cool metal benches. “Your wrists will toughen up in time.”

“Okay,” every time he touches you it sends waves of desire, your teeth clamp down on your lower lip, trying to focus. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry you hurt your wrist?” You nod, making Sukuna sigh now, shaking his head. “Stop apologizing for the dumbest shit. You’re fine.”

It’s awkward when you leave this time, too much between you both, your doubts raging even as you come home. For once, Satoru has no girl there, dressed in a suit and gazing over at you, gaze rushing across your body. He has no business looking that pretty and being that cruel.

“You’ve been training a lot,” he mentions, tilting his head curiously. “Every day seems excessive.”

“I like it,” you slip off your sweater, a little warm with the heat blasting, and then you feel his eyes hit your breasts. “Sorry it’s warm.”

You’re apologizing again.

For ‘dumb shit’. Is that just what you do, what you’ve always done?

“We have an event in an hour.” You nod and rush off to get ready, struggling into your dress so you don’t have to ask him for help again, he stands by the bathroom, the door open, crossing his arms. “What happened to your wrist?”

“Oh, I twisted it,” you take off the little velcro now. “It probably would look bad with the outfit.” He just shrugs, eyeing the marks left from the brace. “Do I look all right? I don’t think I have time to do makeup.”

“I guess,” that’s his answer.

‘I guess.’

You suppose it’s better than him telling you he’s unattracted again, you already know that now, looking at yourself in the mirror and hastily trying to do something with your hair. “What’s the event?”

“Some dumb fucking charity auction,” he eyes his phone now. “I thought that Jennifer told you.”

“No, she did not,” you scoff then, looking at him. “You ask your mistress to send me your itinerary?”

“She’s my secretary so yes, that’s what she’s for,” you can’t with him, especially his mean little smile. “That make you mad?”

You say nothing, you’re not taking his obvious bait – pushing past him quickly and grabbing your clutch, seeing a pair of black lace panties underneath the little glass side table then. Your jaw sets, glaring over at him.

“I asked you to keep the fucking to your room,” he frowns, looking down now, sighing. “What the fuck, Gojo?”

“I didn’t fuck her out here,” he answers with a shrug. “Just fingered her.”

You blush and he laughs softly, walking up to you, tilting your chin so that you’re forced to meet his gaze.

“Haven’t been fingered even?” You refuse to answer, jaw setting, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, his fingers drifting down your dress, achingly slow, blue eyes dilating just a bit. “You’re all heated thinking of it, huh?”

The backs of his knuckles drag against your puffy folds over your dress, you bite down on your lip, hating what his eyes do, when they look for a moment like maybe he would want you. You grip his wrist firmly though, shocking him for a moment when you shove his hand off.

“Aren’t we late?”

*****

Gojo 

“Satoru,” his best friend frowns at him, seeing you across the room sitting alone, avoiding everyone and everything. “She looks miserable, the fuck are you doing?”

“She’ll be free soon enough,” Suguru narrows his eyes, Satoru’s mind goes to earlier when you gripped him so damn strong out of nowhere.

What sort of working out were you doing, and with who? The thought of someone touching you makes him unreasonably jealous, considering any time he did you froze like you did. He almost felt your heat, imagining the slick, perfect little cunt you must have that he actively turned down.

Now it’s driving him insane, you are gone all the time, not even bothering to look at him. Isn’t this what he wanted, you to hate him, to get over your dumb crush and realize he’s not worth it? Satoru will never love anyone, he knows that he's not capable of it any more than his parents were capable of loving him.

He supposes Suguru was as close as he got to ‘loving’ someone, though even his best friend was done with his shit clearly.

“She seems really sweet,” Satoru sighs.

“She is annoyingly sweet. And perfect. And pure.” He says it with disdain.

“So you need an average, slutty ass secretary?” Satoru rolls his eyes, sipping on his whiskey. “I’m sorry everyone knows.”

“Good, give the Gojo name a scandal,” his lips quirk up. “She is too sweet for someone like me anyway.”

“I don’t understand why you’re going that far,” Suguru says, shaking his head. “Have you even looked at her? If you had to be arranged, wouldn’t you want it to be someone like her?”

“You like how she looks so much, you go fuck her,” Suguru glares at him, and Satoru tenses when he realizes you’re walking past right behind Suguru, looking up at him with devastated eyes.

Those eyes.

He didn’t love to hurt you, despite what you thought, he just needed you to give up, to not have any feelings, and you still seem to. Still seem to respond to him, still try for whatever reason. He’s given you no possible sign that he feels what he feels, that he does want you, he does think you’re beautiful, he couldn’t say that shit when he’s finally got you shoved far enough away.

Yet he hates himself for it, loathes himself for the tears in your eyes as Suguru turns and sees you, flush on his cheeks, scowling back at his own friend. Satoru opens his mouth then closes it, seeing that you’re about to break apart hearing it – that he told his best friend to go fuck his wife because he won’t.

“Let’s dance, hmm?” Suguru asks you, and Satoru watches you take his hand and nod, swiping a tear with a tremulous smile.

“Yes please,” Satoru watches you both, leaning back against the wall, studying how his hand takes over your waist, how you seem…

Happy at that moment.

“Satoru Gojo,” his mother’s voice is in his ear, right next to your parents, he blinks just a bit. “We’d like to know what’s going on.”

“Is she not doing good enough?” Your mother asks, Satoru frowns then, blinking just a bit.

“We tried our best to make sure she was perfect for you,” that’s your dad, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is she giving you trouble?”

“Is she giving me trouble?” He’s dumbfounded at their question, looking back at you on the floor.

“You could stand to keep your affairs discreet,” his mother chides. “You don’t need to flaunt them around even if she’s not adequate.”

Not adequate – you.

This is why he fucking hates this.

“We can keep her for a bit, if she needs more polishing.”

“She’s not a fucking golden retriever who needs training,” he says then, earning their surprised looks. “She’s polished to a tee, I assure you.”

“Then surely there’s more we can do, she does look disheveled," your mom says, Satoru swallows down guilt now.

This would only look bad on you. He’s a Gojo, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, he’s a man and you’re…

“I’ll dance with her, yeah?” He gets them to shut up for now, he’s still got too much going on, trying to find the best way to annul the marriage without you getting hurt in the process.

Well, more hurt.

When he cuts in, you’re stiff in his arms, he tugs you against him, remembering the first dance he had, where he had the maid’s cunt all over his fingers. You tried even then, pathetically trying when you look like that, and it all starts to make sense why you are so desperate, meeting them.

“Act like you enjoy it, they’re on my ass,” he says gruffly. He doesn’t want to hear more shit about you ‘training’ or getting ‘polished’ but he doesn’t tell you that, his hand on the small of your back. “Smile like you did at Suguru.”

“I like Suguru,” you say softly, a mean smile on a usually shy, soft face, stabbing Gojo in the heart. “I don’t like you.”

He chuckles now, leaning low and murmuring your ear. “That’s perfect.”

*****

You

You’re extra aggressive after that night, after hearing him so casually not just dismiss you as a woman but tell his friend to ‘have at it’.

You’re imagining his dumb pretty face as you punch the bag over and over, Sukuna is quiet, it’s early before he even opens the gym but when you asked to come he had no problem, he was there early anyway. You couldn’t stand one more moment not hitting something, all of the energy you’ve spent crying over Gojo, over your fucking parents.

Coming to you all ‘disappointed’ when you’ve done NOTHING but try, what’s it got you, what’s anything get you? Perfect, perfect, perfect – for what. It keeps racing in your mind until you feel sick to your stomach, breaths coming in short little pants, hitting it so hard you almost tweak your sore wrist, but you welcome the pain, until Sukuna steps back.

“Hey,” Sukuna is dabbing a little washcloth on your brow, you're shaky and overheated from punching that bag so damn hard. The cool cloth feels good against your clammy skin, you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. "Feel better?"

"Actually yes," you look up into those ruby eyes that hold so much in them, lost for a moment. He grabs you a water and twists it open, you drink from it – a little drop slipping across your chin, he swipes it with ease, making you tremble.

Fuck you want him, you want to feel what it’s like, whatever he thinks you’re ‘too sweet and innocent’ to hear. You want to know what’s behind those eyes, so fucking guarded, but you don’t know how to say it when you stand in that ring with him. It’d be so selfish to drag him into your fucked life, but for some reason he deals with you, he spends the time.

Your friend, he’s your friend right?

Yet when Sukuna’s sooty pink lashes lower, and his hands gently fix one of your bobby pins up, you catch his wrist without thinking. He pauses, teeth glinting with his little grin. "Practicing self defense against big ass pink haired men who touch your hair, huh woman?"

You know he's joking with you, but you step closer, breath catching when you inhale his scent in your nostrils. Not that obnoxious cologne Satoru wears, it's real and male and musky – sweat mixed with something inherently him. It shoots straight to your core, the need for him in every single way, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, like his gravity is pulling you.

Sukuna exhales, letting you put his hand on your cheek, so big and tall over you, shadows casting across the boxing ring.

“Treading in dangerous territory, brat,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move your hand, letting you slip your fingers across the jut of his jaw, feeling his pulse fluttering when it slips across his neck. 

"I don't want to get you involved in my mess, Sukuna," you say then, catching his attention, pulling back ever so slightly.

"Maybe I don't mind a mess," you sigh, looking at his plump lips, his tattooed hand tugging you closer by the waist until you’re almost against him. "Messes are my specialty. Wanna know why?"

You swallow nervously, trembling in front of him, sweat making you shiver just a bit as the AC kicks on overhead, cooling sweat soaked skin. "Why?"

"Because, I'm damaged too, I just hide it better than you," you shut your eyes for a moment.

"I've only kissed once," he blinks a bit, frowning. "So maybe I'll suck at this."

"What now-"

That's when you - Mrs. Gojo - tiptoe and kiss Ryomen Sukuna on his lips.

And that's when he drags you against him and presses your back on the ropes around the boxing ring, moaning. Hard body, hot and heavy, a thigh pressing where you've never been touched, making you whine out, lifting you like it’s nothing. His tongue slips past the seam of your lips, gripping you so tight you can’t breathe.

You don’t want to though, you want him to take all your breath away.

For the first time maybe ever, you feel so wanted, the way he devours you like he's waited forever for it, moaning against your skin and easing you down then, letting you slip down his body, cupping your face. Huge hands taking it over – his breath coming in pants, this look in his eyes, his pupils swallowing those irises until they’re black underneath those pink lashes.

“Don’t do that,” he huffs, shoulders heaving up and down. 

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll fucking break you,” your tummy clenches in response, pussy drooling at his desperation, looking at you like you’re it. “Ruin your perfect little cunt, is that really what you want?”

“Ruin my… um… you…” You don’t even really get his terminology, but the way he says it just makes you slip your arms across his neck. “You didn’t mind the kiss, then?”

He laughs, shaking his head before a sorrow hits his eyes, brushing your hair back with one hand, the other pulling you close. “Do I mind it?”

“I haven’t done anything,” you admit, the insinuation clear as hands drag along the curve of your waist. “I don’t know if-”

Sukuna cuts you off with another kiss, tongue delving into the recesses of your mouth, holding you up so his thickness presses your needy cunt through the thin layers of your yoga pants and his gym shorts. You taste a hint of that coffee he had earlier – mixed with the light salt of his sweat dripping from his lips, groaning as he feels your thighs wrap him.

“Mmm, if you don’t go I’ll fucking break you,” you’re too far gone, just rolling your hips, making him suck in a breath while precum leaks and makes him sticky. His breaths mingle with yours, all the tension of this week coming to a head, he’s done holding back yet he still tries to. “M’not fucking kidding. Should go.”

“Do you want me to go?” His answer is somehow gently landing you on the white floor underneath your feet – now on your back – and spreading your thighs, pressing up between them so hot and thick. “Sukuna…”

“Don’t say my name that way, fuck,” his lips are all over you, tongues dancing so messy with that saliva dripping you blush. Your fingers trail down his abdomen, over the rippling muscles, feeling them tense and bunch. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, finding him then, watching his eyes flutter shut. “I wanna hear the things you won’t say.”

“You don’t.” His grip is on your wrist, pinning it over your head. Your breasts heave up and down, one of his hands slipping under your top, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I’ll tell you something I think,” he raises a slutty eyebrow, two barbells that make it even sluttier, just that look has you writhing under him, as you bite down on your lip. “Deal?”

“What’s your cute little comment, hmm? Wanna hold my hand?” You glare and he chuckles. “I love when you scowl.”

“I have never touched myself,” Sukuna’s face goes into shock, red eyes wide. “Never um… came. And last night, I thought of you and… I tried to. I don’t know what I was doing and it didn’t work, but I thought of you and was…”

“Don’t say it.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling bold with him.

“Wet.”

“Fuck me,” Sukuna’s taking back over your mouth, kisses more desperate and hungry by the moment, you’re soaked when he finds your puffy cunt for the first time, tentatively slipping a fingertip inside and hissing, you gasp out. “Cunt is way too small, I’d split you in half.”

Whatever he means you’re just wetter, gasping when he pulls it back before he gives you what you crave. Slick fingers on your lip, watching your blush for a moment before kissing your cunt off him, a hand now under your head so it doesn’t hurt pressing into the ring’s floor. Your thighs spread for more, arching your hips.

“Too fuckin’ pretty,” you shake your head, blinking tears and making him halt, scowling. “You are.”

“You’re-”

“If you say sweet I’ll bruise your cervix,” you’re a flustered mess at that, earning his groan of frustration, taking your hand in his, nipping your finger with his teeth, sharp pain pressing in. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Deal?”

“If you can make yourself cum for me tonight, I’ll let you use my fingers tomorrow,” your fingers slip down your puffy folds guided with his own, before he pushes yours up. “Your clit, rub it.”

“It’s… ah!” Sukuna watches you jolt at your own touch, pulling your fingers away as if burned, cheeks flushing. 

"Twitching I bet," he sighs, amused, hovering over you and putting your fingers back down. “Do you want me to make you cum tomorrow?”

You nod eagerly but you don’t feel ‘pathetic’ with Sukuna, he wants you just as desperately. “Y-yes.”

“Be a good girl,” you whine out, making him smirk just a bit. “Touch it again, little circles."

Those fingers find your clit again, this time obeying him and testing the little movements, shaky breaths overtaking you. Sukuna's eyes darken as he watches, his own fingers guiding your movements. “Sukuna… mnh!”

"Do it slower," he whispers, looking at you in this way…

Is this what it is, to be desired?

You’re shaking, wantonly playing with yourself in Sukuna’s boxing ring under his hungry gaze, rubbing circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, hips jerking. A whimper escapes when you accidentally press too hard, when it jumps and gets so slick your fingers slip off almost.

“Too much!”

Sukuna's knuckles brush your inner thigh where slick has trailed, moaning and spreading it around until it’s glossy. "Keep going, imagine it's my fingers."

The thought sends heat from your core – little movements feeling so fucking good that your eyes are rolling back in your skull, his hot lips pressing kisses on your upper breasts, letting them gently bounce from your yoga top. When his tongue flicks over your nipple you’re about to shatter, whimpering in Sukuna’s ear as he keeps guiding your fingers.

Your slick drowns both of you.

“Go ahead,” he urges, looking down at you. “Lemme see how pretty you are when you cum for the first time.”

It’s heady and insane, lewd and filthy him watching you fall apart – you whine out as the first bit of that orgasm fucking destroys you, hips lifting off the cold mat as white stars burst behind your eyelids. The pleasure makes you dizzy, head falling back, back arching up as you ride it out, gushing in spurts in embarrassing amounts.

Your fingers fall weakly, opening your eyes to the blurry vision of Sukuna watching with lidded, dazed eyes.

“You did such a good job today,” you almost cry then.

Praise was something you’ve never gotten. Your breaths quicken, tits almost slipping up and out where he’d tugged at them, Sukuna gently moves your hand, his crimson gaze locks onto yours as he brings your fingertips to his mouth. 

“Sukuna! You’re…” His long tongue swipes against your fingers in a circle, before he slips a filthy drag between them, lapping up all of your juices. “Tasting me?”

“Mmm, fuck,” he hums low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut as he sucks each little digit clean, his cheeks hollowing. He looks like he’s cumming – you think, you’re not sure.

You do know it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, the sight of it pulls another broken moan from your throat, the obscene sound echoing in the gym's quiet, until there is no sound but that suctioned pop.

“I wanna bury my face in you,” his words are insanity, things you never thought you’d hear, hovering over you and pulling your thigh up so you feel him. “Then I wanna bury my cock, wreck you until you won’t walk out of here, pump you full until you drip me when you get home to your fuck ass husband.”

“Sukuna… I… you really…” He kisses you quiet, pulling back and laughing softly, huge body casting a shadow across you both, eyes dangerous, grin psychotic – white against his skin.

“That’s just a bit of my thoughts, you need to go before you’re not a virgin anymore,” he touches your lips thoughtfully. “I’d fill all your holes though.”

“All!? Um…” He pulls up and gently adjusts your clothing with precise fingers, kissing you again and again.

“Don’t let me corrupt you, just run off,” his words hurt, as if he’s not good enough for you, when that’s so not the case. “Shouldn’t even come back.”

“No,” is your answer. A firm answer you almost apologize for, his sigh loud as he runs a hand shaky through his hair. “I don’t want to run, if you don’t want me to.”

“Dangerous and dumb idea,” his hand entangles in the nape of your neck, his own breaths erratic. “If you do good tonight I’ll make sure you have my fingers. Will you cum thinking of them?”

“I’ll try to do it right,” you blush now, letting him stroke your back, sending shivers as you fall into another kiss.

You don’t want to go home.

When you go to leave, he pauses you, a hand on your shoulder. “He doesn’t hit you or some shit, yeah? Because I swear-”

“Never, I smacked him,” Sukuna sighs in relief. “It’s mental pain, not that. I promise.”

“Still fucked but,” he shakes his head. “If it ever got there I have a champion belt I can throw on.”

“I bet you do,” you smile, feeling cared for was new.

“Go.”

“One more?”

“No, won’t stop there,” he shakes his head and you turn, just for him to drag you back, kissing you over and over, as gone in you as you are in him, pulling back to brush your cheeks, sighing. “Now go.”

You don’t say anything, the intentions were clear, Sukuna wanted you in ways you knew nothing of other that watching Satoru and hearing things here and there, in ways that makes your clit still twitch. Cunt pulsing around nothing, hands shaky as you drive, a mix of pleasure, desire, and more.

Feelings, brand new and blooming, intense.

And guilt.

Why?

You walk up quietly to see Satoru standing in front of the porch, gaze flickering to you, as if he fucking knew somehow, smoking a cigarette. You blink for a moment, you didn’t know him to smoke, but then you don’t really know him, not at all. You walk up and go to open the door as he blows some of it out, leaned back on the railing, crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Your lips are swollen,” you suck in a breath, freezing and turning to look at him. “You bite them or get them bitten?”

“How would you even notice? You don’t notice me,” your words are carried by the chilled breeze. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Hah,” he inhales a drag, stepping near you, exhaling up and away. “I do smoke. I have.”

“Ah,” you look away then. “It’s shit for you but… I can’t say I care enough to tell you to stop.”

“Ouch,” his hand brushes your hair back, frowning. “Hair’s a mess.”

“Yep,” you won’t deny it if he asks, but he’s not owed a fucking explanation either. “You eat dinner?”

“Yeah there’s food in the kitchen,” he flicks his cigarette out, quiet.

“Where’s Jennifer? Or… Chloe? Is that her name?”

“I don’t have a woman every night,” you laugh then, Satoru eyes you. “I don’t.”

“Okay, it’s ‘not my business’ right, Gojo?”

He says nothing.

You’re tired of trying to see something in him, when he presses against you, your front against the door, tilting your chin and eyeing your lips carefully, thumb brushing over them. “You were kissing or sucking cock?”

“Wouldn’t tell you,” you lift your chin, looking up at him, feeling his grip tighten on either side of your chin. “I’m gonna eat.”

“Yeah.” He lets you go, you struggle inside, trying to catch a breath.

That night you think of him – of Sukuna’s ruby eyes and vermillion lips, of his hungry kisses and the way he looked at you. Even if it was fleeting, even if he was just in the moment, you never knew you could feel that way, feel so wanted, so beautiful.

You can’t stop thinking of the words.

Break you.

Fuck all your holes.

Fuck you’re pretty.

You touch yourself alone for the first time in your life tonight, and Satoru Gojo may have heard you outside your door, he may have stroked his cock right outside your door, head resting on it. He may be regretting things, he may desire you, hearing your sharp gasps as he knows you’re touching yourself, imagining you gripping those sheets and fucking yourself with your fingers.

It’s a sick thing to do, to jerk his cock to a girl he turned down, a girl he’s made hate him on purpose, one he’s acted like he doesn’t want, one that soon will be long gone and think of him as a traumatic fucking memory. Yet it doesn’t stop him from pumping his cock up and down with his fist, moaning quietly as you reach your peak so loudly.

Yet he doesn’t hear his name.

He hears you mumbling – Kuna.

Welp it just gets messier from heeerree <3 A/N here, plz don't hate on reader for being a 'doormat' she literally is traumatized and will have more character development as we go. You can hate on Gojo though LMAO!!! I hope you enjoy, I am so thankful for the love and look forward to hearing your thoughts!

you’re not even drunk yet. you wish you were.

your hands find his shoulders, anchor there. he’s wearing that shirt you like, black mesh, thin enough to see the ink stretched across his chest. you feel him breathe against you, the hitch in his throat when you grind back into him, slow, deliberate. he curses under his breath. you pretend not to hear it.

and it’s always like this.

you and sukuna have been doing this for months. no labels. no rules. just late-night texts and bodies tangled in the dark, his voice in your ear telling you everything and nothing. it started after one party, after one kiss that lasted too long in a hallway filled with smoke. he said it didn’t mean anything. you said okay.

but then it happened again. and again. and again.

he never asked you to stay the night, but he never pushed you away when you did. he didn’t tell you he missed you, but he’d show up at your door at 1 a.m. with a look in his eyes like he’d die without you. sometimes you’d pretend it was real. sometimes you’d forget it wasn’t.

but it never changed. he never changed.

the lights flash magenta, blue, red, and then no color at all. just his mouth, brushing the edge of your jaw, just his hand slipping down the front of your skirt like he owns you.

you shouldn’t be here. not with him.

not again.

but your body is a traitor. it always is with sukuna.

there’s something about the way he touches you, like you’re his, like he never wants to let go, like no one else could ever touch you the same. it makes you forget things. like how he never texts back. how he never asks you how your day was. how last week you caught him flirting with some delta sig girl in the hallway, and he didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

your breath catches as he dips his head lower, mouth dragging along your collarbone. you can feel him smirk against your skin. it’s toxic, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands, exactly how to make your heart stutter even when you swore it wouldn’t.

“missed you,” he murmurs, like a lie.

your eyes flutter shut. you hate how much you believe him.

the room swims. everything is too much and not enough. fingers clutching your hips, that familiar voice dripping with arrogance and hunger. someone spills beer behind you. someone laughs too loud. you don’t care. not when sukuna’s thigh is slotted between yours, not when his lips graze the corner of your mouth like he’s daring you to give in.

you do.

of course you do.

your mouth finds his and it’s ugly, desperate, soaked in months of mixed signals and unspoken rules. he tastes like tequila and spearmint gum and something bitter underneath. you bite his bottom lip a little too hard and he groans against your tongue, gripping you tighter, like punishment, like proof.

god, you wish this meant something.

you wish it wasn’t just this. dark rooms, lingering touches, his name stuck in your throat like smoke you can’t cough up.

but you already know the truth: sukuna doesn’t want you. not really. not in the way you want him. he likes to touch, not feel. he likes the idea of you, how you look in his lap, how you moan his name, how you always come back, no matter how many times he disappears on you.

“wanna get out of here?” he mumbles, dragging his mouth down your neck, teeth skimming your pulse.

you nod before you can think.

you always do.

because every time feels like it might be different, like maybe this time, he’ll mean it. maybe this time, he’ll hold your face like it’s delicate, not like it’s something he can drop when the music fades.

his hand slips into yours. the lights blur again. someone bumps into you and mumbles an apology. you barely hear it. all you hear is your heartbeat, all you feel is his grip, possessive, heavy, and unbearably warm.

and then he comes into sight. satoru passes you in the hallway.

you almost don’t register it. his white hair glows under the led lights, sunglasses pushed into his curls, solo cup in hand. he raises his brows when he sees you with sukuna, just for a second. it’s subtle. just a flicker.

but it lands.

you know what it means.

you look away before you can think about it too hard.

sukuna pulls you toward the stairs, toward the dark, toward the place where you’ll forget how lonely this makes you feel until morning. you let him.

you always do.

~

“…fuck, sukuna,”

your voice cracks on his name, high and breathless, your thighs trembling around his hips. the headboard thuds softly against the wall with every push of his body into yours, a steady rhythm you’ve learned by heart, like a song you never wanted to memorize but somehow know all the lyrics to.

his fingers dig into your waist like he’s trying to brand himself into your skin, pulling you closer with every thrust, hips snapping forward hard enough to steal the breath right from your lungs.

“say it again,” he grits out, voice thick and rough with lust. his mouth is hot against your neck, teeth grazing the same spot he always goes for, just beneath your jaw, where it’ll bruise in the morning.

“sukuna!” it’s not even a name anymore. it’s a plea.

his pace stutters, and then he groans low in his throat, forehead dropping to your shoulder. sweat beads along his hairline. his body is burning against yours, all sharp angles and muscle and frustration. you cling to him like he’s going to disappear, because he will. he always does. you arch up to meet him, chasing something you wish felt more like love and less like punishment. the air in the room is thick, sweet and sour, like weed smoke and sweat and every bad decision you’ve ever made.

his hand slips between your legs and your back arches instinctively. your fingers clutch the sheets, a choked whimper falling from your lips.

“you like that, huh?” he mutters, cocky, breathless, like he’s already forgotten the way you looked at him downstairs, like you wanted this to mean something.

you nod, dizzy. he knows what he’s doing. he always fucking knows.

he fucks like he talks, mean, smooth, unforgiving. every thrust is a promise he’ll break before sunrise. every kiss is laced with the kind of heat that doesn’t last. but you still take it. you always do.

your nails drag down his back, leaving angry little lines behind. he hisses through his teeth, hips grinding in deeper, slower now, like he wants to make you feel every inch of him. you do. god, you do.

“you’re mine,” he murmurs, almost too soft to hear.

you don’t say anything. because he isn’t yours. and you’re not his. not really. this isn’t love, it’s habit. it’s desperation wrapped in heat. it’s lonely nights that turn into mornings you can’t remember, only feel.

but you moan for him anyway. because that’s what he wants. because maybe, for just a moment, you can pretend that’s what you want too.

his thrusts get sloppier, rougher. his breath stutters against your throat.

“gonna cum,” he groans, voice wrecked and guttural.

“inside,” you whisper before you can stop yourself, before you remember that he never stays long enough to deal with what comes after.

he growls against your skin, hips bucking harder, and when he finally spills into you, it feels like something inside you shatters. like maybe you’ve finally reached the bottom of this endless, aching thing you keep falling into.

he collapses on top of you, heavy and too warm, chest heaving. his fingers curl into the sheets beside your head, and for a second, you think he might say something real, something soft, something honest.

but then he pulls out without a word.

and you don’t ask him to stay.

~

you wake up to sunlight slicing across the sheets like a blade.

everything is too bright. too warm. too quiet.

the first thing you notice is that your mouth is dry, like sandpaper, like regret. the second thing is the empty space beside you in the bed.

sukuna’s gone.

you blink slowly, head pounding, eyes struggling to adjust to the daylight bleeding through the crooked blinds. the room smells like him, sharp and familiar, smoke and spice and the bitter aftertaste of cheap liquor. your body still aches from the night before. thighs sore. lips swollen. the imprint of his hands still faintly lingering on your skin like shadows.

you pull the blanket tighter around yourself even though the room is hot. too hot. like the air hasn’t moved since he left.

and you already know he left a while ago.

you sit up slowly, the sheet slipping off your chest. there’s no sign of him, not really, just a crumpled hoodie tossed in the corner, the faint echo of his cologne clinging to the pillow. no note. no text. not even a glass of water on the nightstand. your phone buzzes somewhere across the room but it’s not him. it never is.

you shouldn’t be surprised.

you should be used to this by now.

you and sukuna have been… something for months. not dating. never dating. just a messy, unspoken arrangement full of late-night hook-ups and blurred lines, stolen glances at parties and long stretches of silence in between. no promises. no expectations. except you’ve been making promises to yourself anyway, letting expectations build in the space between his fingers and your ribs.

because when he wants you, when he really wants you, it feels like gravity, like heat and hunger and attention so sharp it makes you forget how shallow it actually is. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the room. until he doesn’t.

and the worst part is, you know what this is. you know who he is.

ryomen sukuna: vice president of kappa tau, campus heartbreaker, smug bastard with a jawline sharp enough to wound and a laugh that sounds like danger. he’s too hot for his own good, too charming when he wants to be, and too good at pretending it means nothing when he leaves you cold in his bed.

he was like this before you. he’ll be like this long after you.

and still, you let him in. you drag yourself out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around you as you stumble toward the small mirror above his dresser. your mascara is smudged. your neck is bruised. there’s a fingerprint-shaped bloom of red on your thigh.

you feel like a cliché.

outside the door, you can hear voices, deep and lazy, laced with laughter and the clink of beer bottles, even though it’s not even noon. it’s always like this at the kappa house. chaos, constant. frat boys draped over furniture like throw pillows, the living room still sticky from last night’s party, someone yelling about pong rules in the kitchen.

you know the sound of them all by now, geto’s low, easy drawl, nanami’s flat exasperation, toji’s cocky laugh.

but most of all, gojo satoru.

he’s the only one who ever remembers your name.

you met him in your first semester, bio chem 101, second row from the back. he showed up late, slid into the seat next to you, and passed you a pack of sour gummies during the lecture like it was perfectly normal. he’d told you you had “bored pretty girl face,” and then spent the rest of the class cracking jokes under his breath just to make you laugh.

and somehow, that never stopped.

he’s the only kappa guy who never made you feel like a punchline, never looked at you like just another notch in someone’s bedpost. even at parties, when you showed up with sukuna, gojo would make room for you on the couch, pass you a drink already opened, always nonchalant but never unkind.

last week, you’d mentioned that you bombed a quiz in passing, just an offhand comment. two days later, he showed up with an entire color-coded study guide.

sometimes you wonder what it would be like, if it had been gojo instead. if you hadn’t wasted all your feelings on someone who only ever meets you halfway. if you’d chosen the boy who listens instead of the one who only calls when the moon’s up and his hands are restless.

but then sukuna looks at you with that hungry, half-lidded gaze, and you forget how to want anything else.

and now look at you.

cold in his bed. abandoned. again.

you sit down on the edge of the mattress and let the ache bloom in your chest, slow and awful. like bruised ribs. like heartbreak that isn’t allowed to be called heartbreak because you were never dating. he made that clear.

but your body doesn’t know the difference. your heart certainly doesn’t.

you press your fingers to your temples, trying to will the nausea down. it’s not just the hangover. it’s the shame. the familiarity. the way you knew this would happen and still let him in.

you thought, stupidly, selfishly, that maybe this time he’d stay. that maybe the way he kissed you last night meant something more. that the way he said missed you was a crack in the wall he always keeps up, not just something he said to get between your legs.

but you were wrong.

again.

and the worst part?

you knew you would be.

you force yourself to stand.

you get dressed slowly, hands shaking as you pull your dress back on. the same dress you wore last night, black, tight, low-cut. you remember how he tugged it up around your waist in the hallway before even getting to the bed. how his eyes raked over you like you were some prize he earned.

now it just feels… pathetic.

you find your shoes under the bed. your phone beside the bottle on the floor, cracked along the corner. your lipstick smudged, your hair a mess. you don’t even try to fix it. you just take a breath, square your shoulders, and open the door.

the hallway outside is dim, reeking of stale weed and sweat and old pizza. music murmurs low from someone’s room, a bassline throbbing lazily through the floorboards. you take the steps slow, head down, praying no one’s around to see you like this.

but of course, it’s kappa tau.

someone’s always around.

you make it halfway down the stairs when you hear his voice.

“whoa, hey, hey—morning, sunshine.”

you freeze for half a second, then glance up. satoru gojo is sprawled across the couch at the bottom of the staircase, a bag of chips on his chest, one sock on, hair a disaster of soft silver strands curling in every direction. his sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, and he’s wearing a sweatshirt that’s far too big for him, blue, with a bleach stain on one sleeve and the kappa crest printed on the back in cracked white ink.

his eyes land on you and go soft.

you must look like hell.

he’s already sitting up, setting the chips aside and standing with a stretch that makes his shirt ride up a little, enough to show a sliver of toned stomach and that tattoo on his hip you always pretend not to stare at in class.

you look away, cheeks burning. your dress feels shorter now than it did last night. tighter. you tug it down instinctively, but it doesn’t help. the shame is already clinging to your skin like sweat.

without a word, gojo shrugs off his hoodie and walks up to you, casual, smooth, like this is just something he does every saturday morning.

“you’ll catch a cold,” he says simply, slipping the sweatshirt around your shoulders before you can protest.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe thank you, maybe what are you doing, but he’s already ushering you down the last few steps, hand gentle on the small of your back.

“c’mon, honey,” he murmurs, lips tilted in that lazy smile, “let’s get you outta here.”

he doesn’t look at you like you’re a mess. doesn’t make a joke about the walk of shame. he just walks with you, calm and confident, like he’s done this before. maybe he has.

but it still feels like something sacred.

he keeps talking as you both move through the house, voice light and teasing but never unkind. like he’s trying to keep the silence from swallowing you whole.

“you know, i’m pretty sure this hoodie’s lucky,” he says, glancing at you as he holds the door open. “i wore it to my midterm last week. got an eighty-five, even though i studied for maybe twelve minutes and spent the night before watching shrek 2 on edibles.”

you huff a laugh, small, surprised.

he grins wider. “there she is.”

the air outside hits you like a slap, cold and sharp, the kind that clears your head whether you want it to or not. you shiver instinctively, pulling the hoodie tighter around yourself. it smells like detergent and weed and faintly like boy. not like sukuna. not like last night.

you step onto the sidewalk and exhale, like you’ve been holding your breath since you woke up.

gojo walks beside you in silence for a few beats, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed.

“i can walk you back,” he offers softly, voice gentler now. “if you want. no pressure.”

you glance over at him. he’s not looking at you, just staring straight ahead, like he’s giving you room.

you nod.

he smiles again, smaller this time, and starts walking.

the quiet stretches between you. not awkward. just quiet. like he knows you’re not ready to talk. like he’s willing to wait until you are.

after a while, you find yourself saying it without even meaning to.

“ryo... he... he didn’t even say goodbye.”

gojo doesn’t flinch. doesn’t smirk. he just hums, like he’s not surprised.

“yeah,” he says, low, thoughtful. “he’s good at that.”

you bite your lip. “i keep thinking maybe he’ll change.”

“maybe,” gojo says. then adds, “but maybe he won’t. maybe he doesn’t want to.”

you blink. the honesty is startling.

he kicks a rock down the sidewalk, hands still deep in his pockets. “people like him… they take until someone stops letting them. doesn’t mean you’re stupid. just means you gave him more than he deserved.”

your throat tightens.

“for what it’s worth,” he says, turning to look at you fully, “you deserve way more than a guy who leaves you cold in the morning.”

you swallow. your voice feels small. “you don’t even know me.”

“sure i do,” he says easily. “you sit two seats over in chem. you underline your notes in three different colors depending on how likely it is to be on the exam. you chew your straw when you’re nervous. you hold your drink with both hands at parties, like it’s a shield.”

you stop walking.

he keeps going a few more steps before realizing, then turns back with a sheepish grin.

“also, you laugh at my jokes even when they’re bad, which makes you either incredibly kind or completely unhinged.”

you blink at him.

gojo shrugs, smile soft now. “i know enough.”

and you believe him.

for the first time in hours, the ache in your chest loosens. just a little, just for now.

you start walking again, slowly.

the street is quiet at this time of morning. just the rustle of leaves in the wind, the distant sound of traffic, the occasional jogger passing by with earbuds in and a grim expression.

he keeps glancing at you every now and then, not in a probing way, not even expectantly. just… checking in. like he’s making sure you haven’t slipped too far inside your own head again.

“you eat anything yet?” he asks eventually, cocking his head toward you.

you shake your head. “no. just wanted to get out of there.”

“understandable. that place smells like a frat boy’s sock drawer after a heatwave.”

you laugh under your breath.

he smiles again, like that’s all he needed to hear.

“you want me to grab you something? coffee, bagel?” he asks. “there’s that little spot on third with the cinnamon buns the size of your head. best post-regret breakfast in town.”

you glance at him. “you’re not hungover?”

“perks of being god’s favorite,” he says, deadpan. “or maybe it’s the fact i’ve been drinking gatorade since 8 a.m. like a responsible adult.”

you blink. “you woke up at 8?”

“well,” he says, “i never really went to sleep. i crashed on the couch watching akira and trying to figure out what geto meant when he said i have ‘emotional chihuahua energy.’”

you let out a surprised little snort.

“don’t laugh. that man has a phd in psychological warfare.”

you both fall into a more comfortable rhythm after that. step by step. quiet, but not heavy. you tell him no on the coffee, gently, and with a faint apology that you don’t really know why you offer. he waves it off, saying, “next time,” like it’s a promise instead of a maybe.

your dorm comes into view sooner than you expected.

you slow a little when you reach the front steps, unsure how to say goodbye. still wearing his hoodie. still not ready to step back into your room and sit alone with what’s left of your morning.

gojo notices. of course he does.

he rocks back on his heels a bit, watching you with those pale, unreadable eyes. there’s something behind the teasing today. something steadier. like he knows what it feels like to be used up and spit out and expected to smile anyway.

“hey,” he says lightly, “there’s a mixer this weekend at alpha pi.”

you blink. “you guys mix with other frats?”

he grins. “we’re very inclusive.”

you raise an eyebrow. “isn’t that the one with the margarita slushie machine?”

“and a mechanical bull,” he adds. “don’t say i never offer you culture.”

you should say no. you want to say no. you’ve sworn off parties a dozen times in the last month. they always start with lipgloss and promise and end in disappointment. in cold beds and unanswered texts.

but something about the way he’s looking at you, soft, expectant, like he’s offering you a way to start over, just a little, makes it hard to pull away.

“you don’t have to stay long,” he says. “just swing by. let me embarrass myself trying to dance to pitbull.”

you bite the inside of your cheek.

“…maybe,” you say quietly.

he smiles so wide it could light the whole damn campus.

“i’ll count that as a yes.”

he reaches out then, fingers brushing the edge of the hoodie where it sits loose around your shoulders.

“keep this, by the way,” he murmurs. “i’ve got more.” you look up at him. “you sure?”

he shrugs. “looks better on you anyway.”

and just like that, he’s gone.

he walks backward a few steps, tossing you a lazy salute, then turns down the path, humming some awful early-2000s song under his breath.

you stand there for a long time after the door shuts behind you, the hoodie warm on your skin, your heartbeat just a little steadier than it was before.

~~

the music hits you before you even reach the door, deep, pulsing bass that rattles through your ribcage and melts into your skin like heat. alpha pi is already overflowing with bodies, beer, and bravado. red solo cups in every hand, laughter loud and chaotic spilling from every room.

you hesitate on the front step, just for a moment.

you’re wearing your best version of don’t-look-at-me-but-actually-look-at-me, a dress that clings in all the right places, heels that make your legs look longer, hair done up like you haven’t cried over a boy in a week. and gojo’s hoodie is gone, left folded on your desk, not forgotten but not worn. this night is about something else.

you step inside.

immediately, someone hands you a drink. music swells. heat curls at your collarbones. you scan the crowd and spot him before anyone else.

gojo.

he’s by the makeshift bar, laughing at something geto says, holding a red cup in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. his shirt’s undone just enough to show that tattoo again, his hair messy in the way it always is, like he rolled out of bed and accidentally looked gorgeous. when he sees you, his face lights up.

but before you can take a step toward him,

he finds you.

sukuna...

he comes out of nowhere, moving through the crowd like he owns it, like he’s gravity and everyone’s just orbiting. shirt half unbuttoned, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, gold chain glinting against his throat. he sees you and smirks, slow, sharp, wolfish.

“well, well,” he purrs, already closing the distance. “look who came crawling back.”

you open your mouth, to tell him off, to say this isn’t crawling, to remind him he didn’t even say goodbye last time, but his hand slides around your waist before you can speak, tugging you close until your chest brushes his and your breath catches.

he smells like smoke and sex and the kind of trouble you never really learned to resist.

“miss me, princess?” he murmurs against your ear.

you hate how your body answers for you, the way your breath hitches, the way your knees soften, the way you melt into him like you always do.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, voice thinner than you want it to be.

his grin widens. “don’t have to. you’re already lookin’ at me like you want to be ruined.”

your stomach twists.

you should pull away. you should walk toward gojo. you should not let this happen again.

but then sukuna’s mouth is against your neck, hot and slow and claiming, and his hand is trailing lower, resting just at the curve of your ass as he pulls you into the sway of the music.

“did you wear this dress for me?” he whispers, dragging his teeth along your jaw. “knew you’d come back. you always do. nobody fucks you like i do, right?”

your heart is pounding. your hands are on his chest before you even think about it. not pushing, gripping.

and he knows it.

“tell me you missed it,” he breathes. “tell me you missed this cock, missed the way i wreck you, how you forget everything else when i’ve got my hands on you.”

your eyes flutter shut.

you can feel it happening. the way you fall back under. the way his voice makes your spine go slack and your thoughts get fuzzy. it’s always like this with him, fast, hot, wrong.

and yet.

your eyes open, just for a second, and across the room, gojo is watching.

he hasn’t moved. just standing there, still holding his drink. his face is unreadable, but his smile is small. tight. polite. not quite reaching his eyes.

he raises his cup to you in a little mock-toast, then turns away.

your chest aches.

but sukuna’s hand is sliding up your thigh now, fingers bold under the hem of your dress, and his mouth is on your collarbone.

“fuck,” he groans, “this body’s mine. always has been.”

you want to tell him he’s wrong. you want to tell yourself you don’t belong to anyone.

but you lean into him anyway.

you always do.

he pulls you away from the main room like he always does, with that sure, possessive grip on your wrist, like the crowd is nothing but static, and you’re the only thing he wants to hear.

you barely register the way people part for him. they always do. like they know.

he drags you down a dim hallway, lit only by some fucked-up LED strip that flickers red and pink and purple, a pulsing, low-light hell that turns everything fever-dream warm. you barely get your bearings before he’s on you.

your back hits the wall with a soft thud, and his mouth is on yours before you can even gasp.

it’s immediate.

hot, greedy, all tongue and teeth. there’s no patience, no buildup. he kisses like he’s claiming territory, like he’s trying to leave a mark on the inside of your chest, not just your lips. his hands are everywhere, rough at your waist, sliding down to grip the meat of your thigh, dragging it up against his hip like he needs you to feel what you do to him.

you moan against his mouth, your body already giving in before your head can catch up.

“fuck,” he growls, breaking the kiss to drag his teeth down your neck. “this little dress, knew you were wearing it for me. always so ready to act like a good girl, but you show up dripping like you need me.”

your knees nearly give out when he grinds against you, cock heavy against the zipper of his jeans, and you let out a strangled little sound, half a whimper, half a plea. it’s too much. it’s good, but it’s too much.

his fingers are under your dress now, dragging against your inner thigh, slipping higher, and your brain is swimming, everything hot and too loud and him.

“been thinking about this pussy all week,” he mutters, voice dark and dangerous. “tight little thing, fuckin’ made for me.” his hand reaches your underwear, fingers pressing in, not even slow about it, and your breath catches hard in your throat. he kisses you again, deeper this time, all spit and possession. one hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back slightly to bite down on your throat.

your chest is heaving.

it’s too much.

you can barely think. the music is a distant, pounding blur somewhere far away, and it feels like your body isn’t even your own, like he’s pulling you apart faster than you can put yourself back together.

and for a second, you want to let it happen.

you want to disappear into the heat of his mouth, the drag of his tongue, the dirt in his voice when he says your name.

but then,

your stomach flips.

not with pleasure. not with anticipation.

with panic.

you push lightly at his chest. “sukuna—wait, just—give me a sec—”

he doesn’t move right away. his mouth is still trailing down your jaw.

you push again, firmer. “seriously, i—I need to slow down.”

his hands go still.

he leans back just enough to look at you, and for one second, there’s something unreadable in his eyes.

and then it’s gone.

his mouth twists into something cold.

“are you fucking kidding me?”

your stomach drops.

“no, i just—I got overwhelmed, i’m not saying no, I just—I need to breathe for a minute—”

he steps back like your touch burns.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair like you’ve ruined his whole night. “why the fuck do you always do this?”

your throat goes dry. “do what?”

he laughs, sharp and humorless. “get me all worked up, act like you’re down, and then pull some ‘wait I’m not ready’ bullshit. again.”

you flinch.

“that’s not fair—”

“you’re not fair,” he snaps, eyes narrowing. “you show up looking like that, practically begging for it, and now you wanna play innocent? fuck off.”

he turns before you can reply, storming back down the hallway and disappearing into the crowd, swallowing him whole like he was never there.

you’re left alone in the too-warm hallway, breath shallow, dress askew, the imprint of his mouth still tingling against your skin.

your chest is tight. shame coils low in your gut.

but worse than that, there’s a hole there now.

a fresh one.

you lean back against the wall, blinking fast. trying not to cry. trying to remind yourself that this isn’t new. that this is exactly how it always ends with him, want, heat, need, and then nothing. like it was all a mirage. like you’re the problem for falling for it.

again.

get it together, you think. you are not going to let him ruin this night.

you take a deep breath. fix your dress. press your lips together hard enough to hurt.

and then you walk out of that hallway like nothing happened.

the music swallows you whole. sweat, perfume, the sticky scent of cheap beer and something burning in a corner, it’s overwhelming and exactly what you need. you don’t look for him. you don’t even let your eyes scan the crowd. you just find the rhythm again, find the chaos, find anything that isn’t him.

“there you are!” yuki’s voice cuts through the bass like a lifeline.

she finds you before you can fall too deep into your own head, radiant in rhinestones and a tiny crop top that clings to her like a second skin. she already looks three drinks in and fucking gorgeous.

she grabs your hand without asking, tugging you into the mess of bodies like she’s been waiting for you all night.

“we’re celebrating, bitch,” she grins, holding up her cup like a trophy. “i just got ghosted by a philosophy major with a man bun, and you look like you need to commit a felony. let’s dance.”

and god, you do.

you lose yourself in it, in the pulsing lights, in the blurred edges, in the way your body knows how to move even when your heart’s still trying to remember how to beat without breaking. the music climbs higher, deeper, meaner. the floor vibrates. people are shouting over the sound, laughing, kissing, spilling drinks, the whole world turned up too loud, and somehow, it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

you and yuki take over the dance floor like you own it.

you laugh so hard you snort.

you let your hair fall wild around your face.

you throw your head back and sing along to songs you don’t know the words to. your dress rides up and you don’t fix it. your shoes hurt and you don’t care.

you let a random guy buy you a shot. it tastes like watermelon and regret.

yuki cheers beside you. she twirls under the strobe lights and kisses your cheek like you’re made of moonlight. “this,” she says, voice slurred and shining, “is what being young and hot is for.”

and for a while, you believe her.

you let it all pour out of you, the ache, the shame, the bitter aftertaste of his voice in your ear. you dance until your thighs burn, until your throat is raw from laughing, until it feels like you could float out of your body and finally feel weightless.

but then,

a beat drops. the crowd shifts. someone brushes too close behind you and the scent of his cologne hits your nose.

and just like that, it comes crashing back.

sukuna.

the hallway.

his mouth on yours. his hands.

the way his voice dipped when he said mine.

the way it turned sharp the second you pulled away.

you sway, just slightly, your smile faltering. you don’t mean to think about it. you don’t want to. but it sneaks up on you anyway, sticky and cruel, like smoke in your lungs.

why do you always do this?

you told him to slow down.

you said you were overwhelmed.

you didn’t say no. not exactly.

but your body responded. you kissed him back. you let it get that far.

your stomach knots.

you blink against the sting behind your eyes and try to focus on yuki, who’s singing with her eyes closed and hands raised, pure chaos and glitter. you copy her. you smile wide. you lift your arms and pretend it’s still fun. pretend it still feels good.

but the guilt claws at your ribs.

he was angry.

he was hurt. (?)

and maybe he was right.

maybe you did lead him on.

you hate how your heart lurches at the thought. you hate how you care, even after everything. how his disappointment still cuts deeper than his anger. how it lingers in your bloodstream like poison.

why do you always fall for him?

you press your palms to your temples, just for a second. the heat of the room, the crowd, the drink, it’s all blurring together. you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out.

“you okay?” yuki asks, leaning in close, voice slightly breathless. “you look kinda—spaced.”

you shake your head, force another smile. “just tipsy. keep dancing.”

she watches you for a beat longer than you want her to. then she nods, grabs your hands again, and pulls you into another spin.

and you let her.

because you’re good at this part.

the pretending. the dancing. the chasing of something bigger, louder, prettier than whatever’s breaking inside you.

you dance until your feet go numb and the room tilts sideways.

you laugh too hard at things you don’t hear.

you take another drink even though your stomach says don’t.

and all the while, somewhere in the far, buried part of you, under the music and the light and the haze, there’s still him.

his voice. his hands. his anger.

and your guilt, sitting heavy in your chest like a secret you’ll never admit out loud.

you’re halfway through pretending your buzz is still warm and good when you feel it, that ripple through the room. not like sukuna’s gravity, all heat and danger. no, this one’s different. softer. brighter. like the way the sun feels when it hits your back through the window after a shitty night’s sleep.

satoru.

you don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him.

yuki’s already clocked him, her eyes going wide like she just spotted a celebrity.

“well hellooo,” she laughs under her breath, tugging at your wrist. “dilf-in-training at nine o’clock.”

you roll your eyes, but when you glance over your shoulder, he’s already making his way through the crowd, solo cup in one hand, smile soft and low-lidded. hair a little messy, shirt collar askew. he’s got that same laidback, stoned-and-sweet energy he always carries, like the world could be on fire and he’d still find a way to flirt about it.

his eyes land on you, and the smile grows.

“sorry for not saying hi earlier,” he says, stopping in front of you, voice loud enough to rise above the music but not intrusive.

“you're right, so rude!” you toss back, teasing because it’s easier than being honest.

his grin tilts. “i was gonna. you just looked… preoccupied.”

the meaning’s not subtle, but it’s not cruel either. it hangs there in the air between you, unspoken but not ignored.

you stiffen for a second, not enough for most people to notice. but gojo? he always notices.

he leans down a little, voice dropping. “you okay?”

you nod quickly, too quickly. “yeah. yeah, i’m good. just… blowing off steam.”

he doesn’t call you out.

doesn’t push.

just hums, then smiles like the whole thing is no big deal.

yuki, bless her, takes the hint and melts back into the dance floor with a wink, leaving you two in a little bubble of calm right in the middle of the storm.

gojo leans casually against the wall beside you, holding out his cup. “wanna sip? i promise it’s not as gross as it looks.”

you take it, partly because you want to, and partly because it feels like an anchor.

he watches you with that lazy amusement as you drink, eyes sharp beneath the sleepiness.

“you clean up good,” he says after a beat. “this dress? dangerous. should’ve come with a warning label.”

you laugh, a real one this time, shaking your head. “pretty sure you say that to everyone.”

he places a hand dramatically over his heart. “i would never. i’m all about honesty.”

“you’re all about being a menace.”

“same thing, really.”

you don’t mean to smile as much as you do. but with him, it’s impossible not to. there’s just something about the way he talks to you, like you’re not part of the chaos, like you’re real and whole and seen.

and it feels… good.

like the first inhale after holding your breath too long.

“so,” he says, bumping your shoulder gently, “you coming to the alpha pi bonfire next weekend? it’s technically a mixer but mostly just an excuse to see who can make the worst s’more and still get laid.”

you laugh again. “tempting.”

“you should come. the playlist’s mine, so you know it’ll slap. and—” he leans in slightly, voice dipping low and playful, “—i’ll save you a chair by the fire.”

you look at him, trying to read the edges of it, trying to figure out if he’s just being charming or if there’s something else under it. but it’s gojo. even when he means something, he wraps it in jokes and grins and lazy affection.

still… something in you settles.

his presence is like cold water after too much heat. sobering. grounding. you hadn’t realized how far gone you were until he showed up and reminded you what steady felt like.

“thanks,” you say, quieter now. “for, you know… this.”

he tilts his head. “for showing up twenty minutes late to flirt with you and offer you mystery juice?”

you snort. “yeah. for that.”

he watches you for a second. not intensely, just… observantly.

“you deserve more,” he says. soft. careful. “than the bullshit you keep settling for.”

you blink.

it’s not an accusation.

not a judgment.

just a truth, handed over with kindness.

you don’t know what to say to that. so you just look away, heart beating somewhere between guilt and comfort.

he lets it sit for a second. then bumps your shoulder again, lighter this time. “come on. you owe me a dance.”

you glance at him. “oh, do i?”

“mmhm. i saved you from your own spiral. that’s at least worth a song and a half.”

you hesitate.

but his hand is already held out.

open. patient.

and for once, it doesn’t feel like a trap. doesn’t feel like a test.

so you take it.

and as he pulls you gently back into the party, all warmth and ease and that stupid grin, the knot in your chest loosens, just a little.

for the first time tonight, you let yourself believe that maybe things could be okay.

maybe not perfect. maybe not easy.

but okay.

and that’s something.

you’re light on your feet when you slip away from the crowd, laughter still clinging to your skin like perfume. the dance with gojo had left you floating, just a little. like maybe the night hadn’t ruined you after all. like maybe, just maybe, things were still salvageable.

you weave through bodies, squeeze past beer-soaked couches and someone’s half-naked beer pong victory dance. your head’s buzzing with alcohol and adrenaline, but your smile’s real, finally. warm.

“gonna pee before my bladder gives out,” you’d told yuki, who’d nodded and handed you her vape like a parting gift before getting pulled back onto the floor.

you head up the stairs alone.

the hallway upstairs is quieter. not silent, but muffled. far away from the music and chaos, just the hum of bass under your feet and the sticky creak of the floorboards as you walk.

you know this hallway.

you’ve walked it a dozen times. too many.

the second door on the right is the guest bathroom. tiny, a little grimy, but usually empty during parties. you wrap your knuckles on the wood anyway, just in case.

no answer.

you try the handle. unlocked.

and then the door swings open,

and the world ends.

he’s there.

sukuna.

half-naked, pants around his thighs, hips snapping into the girl bent over the sink like she’s his fucking religion.

your breath catches so hard it chokes you.

she’s moaning. breathy. fake. her heels are still on. her nails are digging into the bathroom counter, red tips clutching marble like this is the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

and him,

his head’s tilted back, mouth open, flushed and focused. sharp hands gripping her waist like he owns her.

he doesn’t even look up.

not until she glances over her shoulder and says, through a giggle, “uhhh… someone’s watching.”

his eyes meet yours.

and everything stops.

your throat closes.

your heart cracks, not clean, but jagged, like shattering glass in slow motion.

you don’t move.

you can’t.

it’s not real. it can’t be real.

but it is.

“shit,” he mutters, pulling out of her like it’s an inconvenience. like you just interrupted him.

his voice is casual. unbothered. “didn’t know anyone was up here.”

you’re still standing in the doorway.

your hands are trembling.

your mouth opens. closes. no sound comes out.

he runs a hand through his hair, already reaching for his shirt like this is nothing. like you’re just some stranger. like you’re not the girl he fucked last weekend. and the weekend before that. and the one before that. like you haven’t been crawling into his bed for months now, stupid and in love and hopeful.

“wait,” he says, taking a step toward you, zipper still half-down. “it’s not— it’s not what it looks like.”

you laugh.

you don’t mean to.

it just rips out of you. broken. small. deranged.

“you’re literally—” your voice cracks, “—fucking someone else.”

his jaw tenses. like you’ve said something offensive.

“it’s a party,” he shrugs. “people hook up.”

you stare at him, disbelief pouring down your spine like ice water.

the girl behind him doesn’t even care. she’s adjusting her top, barely glancing your way. like you’re nothing. like you’re no one.

your knees feel like glass.

“we’ve been sleeping together,” you whisper, like if you say it out loud, it might matter. “for months, sukuna.”

he sighs. “yeah. and?”

and?

your stomach twists.

you feel like you’re going to be sick. right here. in this disgusting hallway, in this frat house that already reeks of sweat and shame.

“you’re such a fucking joke,” you breathe, voice shaking so hard it barely makes it out.

his eyes flash, defensive. “don’t act like you’re some innocent victim. you knew what this was.”

“i thought you cared,” you say, and it breaks something in your throat.

a tear slips down your cheek, hot and fast. you don’t wipe it away.

you just turn.

and run.

down the stairs. through the crowd. someone tries to stop you, a hand on your arm, a slurred hey, you good?, but you shrug them off, vision blurring, everything warping under your feet like you’re dreaming and can’t wake up.

you push through the front door and into the night.

the air hits your face like a slap. cold. hard.

you stumble off the porch, down the steps, into the front yard like you’re drunk even though your buzz has evaporated.

your chest aches.

your hands are shaking.

you press a palm to your ribs like you can hold the pain in, like you can keep it from spilling out of your mouth and onto the grass. you want to scream.

you want to vomit.

you want to run until your feet fall off and your heart stops aching,

but all you do is stand there.

in your stupid dress.

alone.

humiliated.

hollow.

your tears come faster now, flooding your cheeks, wetting your collarbone. you clutch your arms around yourself like it’ll help. it doesn’t,

because it wasn’t nothing. not to you.

he kissed you like he meant it. he touched you like you were his. he held you after. not every time, but enough. enough to make you think maybe , maybe , you weren’t just another body to him.

but you were.

you are.

a sob slips out.

you slap a hand over your mouth like you can take it back.

but the pain is crawling up your throat, into your ears, behind your eyes. overwhelming. unbearable. endless.

you sink onto the curb and bury your face in your hands.

and for a while, all you do is cry.

messy, gasping, open-mouthed sobs. like your body’s trying to purge him from your system. like if you cry hard enough, it’ll erase the sound of his voice, the weight of his body, the taste of his skin.

you don’t know how long you sit there.

minutes. maybe hours.

until the front door creaks again.

footsteps,

then a voice.

soft. careful.

“hey.”

you freeze.

his voice is soft, barely more than a breath.

but it cuts through the fog like light.

“hey, y/n.”

you don’t move. can’t.

not with your knees pulled up to your chest, not with your hands clutching at your sleeves like they’re the only things keeping you from falling apart.

but he’s already stepping closer.

not rushing. not startling. like he’s approaching a kicked puppy,

he crouches in front of you, eyes wide and impossibly gentle, and says your name like it’s a question.

a whisper.

your head stays down. the tears won’t stop.

your throat aches, clogged with every sob you’ve bitten back since the bathroom.

you hate this. hate that he’s seeing you like this—mascara-streaked, shivering, used.

but gojo just tilts his head slightly. like he’s trying to read your mind. like he’s piecing it all together without you needing to say a word.

he doesn’t push. doesn’t ask what happened,

he already knows,

instead, he sinks down beside you on the curb, his arm slips around your back, firm and warm and steady.

“you’re okay,” he murmurs, barely brushing your skin, “i got you.”

you shudder.

“shhh, hey… it’s alright,” he says again, his voice syrupy and slow. “you’re not alone.”

and then, without even thinking, you lean into him,

his body welcomes you without hesitation, a warmth that feels too good, too safe, too real. his hand comes up, tentative at first, then sure, threading gently through your hair.

his palm presses lightly against the back of your head, cradling, protecting.

you bury your face in his chest, into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, where his heartbeat thuds steady and calm beneath your cheek.

you’ve never cried like this in front of anyone. not even him.

not like this.

not so raw. not so ruined.

but he doesn’t flinch.

he doesn’t tell you to stop.

doesn’t ask you to explain.

he just holds you , like he’s trying to keep the world from hurting you again.

“you didn’t deserve that,” he whispers. “not even close.”

a breath hitches in your chest.

you don’t respond.

you can’t,

because if you open your mouth you might just sob until your lungs give out.

he shifts slightly, pulling your knees across his lap until you’re curled against him completely.

your whole body feels like it’s trembling, and he just keeps rocking you gently, brushing hair from your face, knuckles grazing your jaw.

“hey,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it. “you’re still beautiful, y’know.”

your breath catches.

“not just, like, super hot, which, obviously,” he adds, like it’s some cosmic fact, trying to draw a laugh out of you. “but… like. you glow. even like this.”

you finally lift your head just a little, looking at him through your lashes, dazed.

“even now?” you whisper, broken and small. “after what i saw?”

he meets your gaze like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“especially now.”

he reaches out, thumb brushing beneath your eye, catching the streak of a fresh tear.

“fuck him for making you cry,” he says softly. “seriously. he doesn’t know what he’s losing.”

another tear slips down. he catches that one too.

“you’re the kind of girl people remember,” gojo murmurs. “the kind that ruins other people for them. he’s just too fucking stupid to know it.”

your heart cracks all over again, but it’s a different kind of pain. not betrayal. not devastation.

it’s softness.

it’s someone seeing you when you’re shattered,

and still wanting to stay.

you swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “i feel stupid.”

“nah,” he says gently. “you feel human. and honestly, you’re handling this better than i would.”

“you don’t have to say all this,” you murmur. “you don’t have to pretend.”

his expression softens even more. “who’s pretending?”

he presses his forehead to yours, close enough that his breath fans across your skin.

“you wanna know a secret?” he says, voice low and boyish, like it’s just for you. “i came to the party tonight for you.”

your eyes widen.

he smiles, small and sad. “saw you with him and just, figured i’d missed my chance. again.”

“gojo…”

“it’s okay,” he says, brushing his thumb across your cheek again. “i just didn’t want you to think no one noticed how amazing you are.”

you blink up at him, tears still clinging to your lashes, and you feel it , a shift,

a weight in your chest starting to melt.

the ache’s still there. it probably will be for a while.

but his presence makes it bearable.

his warmth makes it real.

and for a second, just one second, you don’t feel like a mistake.

you feel held.

safe.

wanted.

you breathe him in , peppermint and beer and something sweet underneath it all. he smells like comfort, like home, like everything sukuna never gave you.

his arm tightens around you as if he can feel you relaxing, even just slightly.

“there she is,” he murmurs, smiling against your temple. “there’s my girl.”

you don’t even question it.

you don’t tell him to stop.

because right now, in this tiny moment on a shitty frat house curb, you want to believe him.

you want to let him say all the things sukuna never did.

you want to let someone take care of you, finally, without games or silence or conditions.

so you close your eyes,

and let him.