#Jjk x reader

[raysome]

In a world of AO3 warriors, I'm forever a Tumblr Trooper...

[tonycries]

Tokyo Drift - C.K.

Synopsis. A bad boy? Check. Your parents hate him? Check. Considers you the cute lil’ good luck charm for his high-speed street races? Check. But you’ll be riding more than just Choso’s car…

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, racer!Choso, street racing AU, Choso with tattoos and piercings, talks of F1, small towns, gossip, slight good girl x bad boy, he’s so down bad, pússydrúnk Choso, oraI (fem rec.), he goes FÉRAL, spítting, fíngering, cúmming in his pants, he’s BIG, tummy buIges, making it fit, headIocks, manhandIing, Prince AIbert’s piercing, running from it, matíng presses, rough s, body worship, DÚMBlFICATION, creampíes, overstím, getting together, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.6k

A/N. I refuse to watch the F1 movie so this is the closest thing-

“Look at him-”

You sigh, “I know, he’s…”

“-bad news.”

“-hot.”

It was inevitable that you and your group of friends would look at each other with odd expressions at the clash. You always did whenever it came to him.

Choso Kamo - the star of your cozy lil’ town’s latest gossip. 

You’d heard (well, it was impossible not to hear) that he’d just recently moved from the big city for an exchange program at your local university. Why anyone would willingly travel to some ramshackle town to be gawked at, you couldn’t understand. 

“I’m just saying—” You’re grumbling, gaze flicking across the green campus to where Choso was seated underneath a lone tree, face bent into a book.

Your stare lingers on the twinkle of his ear piercings in the sun, “-he doesn’t seem that bad.” The dark, dark line tattoos crawling down the side of his neck. “Who knows? He seems almost…nice-”

Just then, he’s turning his head - precisely to meet your eyes. 

Oh. 

You can feel your breath hitch- and something at the pit of your stomach twists in a sudden lurch before you’re turning away in an instant. The glint of his deep eyes too stark, the intensity in them too burning. 

“She’s right.” Shoko’s the first to pipe up from your right, tapping her manicured nails on the top of your campus bench. “I won’t deny that everyone’s being a lil’ hard on the guy just because he has a few tattoos and piercings.”

“And he’s a city big-shot with an annoyingly loud car.”

“And he’s a city big-shot with an annoyingly loud car.”

Utahime shudders, seated right in front of you so she has to turn at the feeling of Choso’s stare - who immediately looks away. “Well- fine. But it’s also the way he looks at…”

Your little group leans closer as she trails off, seemingly lost in thought.

Before nodding to herself in affirmation and narrowing her chocolate eyes- “-at you.” Unabashedly, she’s jabbing her index your way, as you sputter in protest, “No no, I’m serious! It’s like he- he wants to eat you or something, my dear.”

Shoko smirks, “Kinky.”

“Shoko.” You’re groaning, flipping back through your textbook to distract yourself, if anything. “Don’t let my parents hear you, Uta. They’ve warned me every single day since he’s stepped foot here to steer clear of him.”

Which wasn’t quite effective when you shared half your classes with the very man that haunted every nook and cranny of your town - and the minds of the people living in it.

And especially not when you couldn’t help but notice him during said lectures; tall, quiet, always seated at the very last row with his head in some car magazine, fingers twiddling with the chunky metal rings on his long fingers. 

Not that you’re looking at him that closely, that is. 

You find your thighs involuntarily pressing together as you’re hastily darting your eyes to Choso once more, taking in the subtle curve of his pierced lips. The slooow flutter of his long, chestnut bangs in the breeze- “Y’know they told me just this morning to never so much as let him look at me? Apparently some neighbor of a neighbor of a neighbor saw him driving late at night and assumed he was involved in everything shady possible.”

“Understandable.”

“Still dealing with the ol’ folks, huh?” Shoko grins as you wince, a reminder of the parents that absolutely refused to let you hold your own in one of the university dorms.

Not quite out-of-the-ordinary for such a small community, but you still did feel a twinge of envy whenever Shoko and Utahime happened to mention something about them being roommates. 

“You should just move in with us, y’know- fuck whatever the lease lady says, we have more than enough room.”

“Ah, one day.” Clearing your throat, you’re standing up- “Anyways, I should really get going before I miss my lab time.”

“Aw, Yaga keeping you late for another project?” Your friend muses as Utahime grabs onto your skirt with a protesting whine, trying to tug you back down onto your seat with all her might. And it’s a small chaos that erupts in a few surrounding giggles, a stray eyeroll or two - and for a certain dark-haired man to spy up from his motor book. 

Heady eyes locked on the scene, his gaze seeping right through your body. Choso tilts his head with a glimmer of interest that leaves your mouth dry no matter how many times you swallow. 

Oh, he looked just devilish.

You struggle to keep your voice even, “Yeah. Lab project.” And before you make your escape, you’re stealing one last glimpse at him- “No need to wait up, I’ll find my own way home.”

.

.

.

You were definitely, absolutely not finding your own way home.

And it was all your fault of staying way too late behind class hours, glued to one of your most important finals projects. 

“Dammit. Dammit.” You’re whispering to yourself as you check the time flashing on your phone - just a little past 10PM, you’d already missed the last local bus. 

The university was so empty that you could hear your own heartbeat thumping in your eardrums, in rapid unison with your footsteps. Leading up to the campus parking lot, a quick check showed you only a few stragglers that you didn’t know.

With a sigh, you make sure to stand underneath where a streetlight was overspilling its glow, weighing your options in the dim atmosphere.

You could call Utahime for a ride - or maybe your parents? But as much as you loved them, the multiple earfuls you’d get on ‘responsible time management’ was enough to have you closing out of your Phone app. 

Maybe you could (affectionately) blackmail Shoko into borrowing Utahime’s car? No, the one time you two decided that was a good idea, the other girl had given you both a lashing that had you bowing at her feet for weeks.

Swearing underneath your breath, you’re opening up the Uber app and making appalled note of the prices. Ah, perhaps you were just meant to sleep here tonight. “I’d rather beg for a ride from Yaga-”

And then you hear it.

You’re sure that anyone within a five-mile radius hears it, in fact- that low, infamous vrrrr— that made the ground beneath you quake ever-so-slightly. It was the very noise that roared past your quaint neighborhood streets at night, the very noise that your parents made sure to complain about every morning after.

And there was only one man who would drive such a behemoth.

Choso’s midnight black Ford Mustang glistens as he’s lazily pulling up to the flickering streetlight, taking up nearly the entire pavement. Too fast, too be lost, too slow to be heading for anywhere but you were - you can only gape as his tinted windows pull down almost silently. 

Almost smugly. 

The first thing you’re spying is the glimpse of a pale, beefy forearm gripping onto a leather-clad steering wheel. Tattooed and toned. 

And then it’s him - Choso Kamo, in all his glory.

“Need a ride?”

You’re blinking, voice never quite reaching your throat- “Wh-what?”

The first sound of your pretty, pretty tone and his hand tightens on the wheel - as if he’d just been zapped by volts of electricity.

He chuckles softly like he’d expected this, stray arm coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck. And you don’t know whether you’d simply been standing out in the cold long enough to muddle your mind, but you swear that Choso’s ears tint a bright red. “I uh- I wouldn’t mind dropping you off home…or wherever it is you need to go?”

Expectantly, he’s searching his molten eyes up for an answer. But the longer Choso stares, the longer your silence stretches - and the darker the tips of his ears flush. 

“If- that is, if you don’t have another ride coming for you of course.” He’s peering his irises around, as if expecting one of your friends to pop out from the bushes any second now. Words running a mile a minute. “Sorry for assuming, I just saw you here alone and- oh, p-promise it wasn’t anything creepy I just notice y- fuck, I messed this up.”

And his shy smile withers, replaced by the anxious twiddle of his silver snakebites. Hand reaching for the gear shift now- “I should just-”

“No, wait!” 

You’re calling out before you can stop yourself, and it’s like Choso’s body listens to your words before his brain does. Because he’s halting in his tracks with a comical yelp, enough so that you have to stifle a smile. 

“I uh…I don’t have a ride, actually.” You’re telling him, with a deep breath. 

And it’s only with a final glance ‘round your surroundings that you’re confirming Yaga really wasn’t here and you really couldn’t bother him instead. 

Looking down at Choso and oh- he’s staring up at you with stars in his eyes. Curved grin urging you to speak- “If it’s ah- not too much trouble, I would really appreciate a ride back home.”

“Yes- yes, of course.”

And as if he’d not just been two seconds away from speeding down the pathway in embarrassment, he instantly lunges out from the driver’s seat. Speeding to the other side of the car and holding the passenger’s wiiide open for you.

You’re slightly taken aback by the manners, by the innocent smile that suggested he’d never even thought of anything less. “Oh!” Making sure you’re safely buckled before gently shutting the door, “Thank you?”

“Any time.”

You can’t lie to yourself and say that you’d never imagined what the interior of Choso Kamo’s notoriously intimidating car might look like. Feel like.

You just never imagined it to be as close to heaven as you could get - all luxurious woven seats and a touchscreen polished enough to mirror your awed face. 

You’re running your hand down the side of the car as you give directions to your home, your family would never even let you get close to a ‘deathtrap’ like this. And as Choso starts driving, you can’t help but breathe in that slightly bittersweet lavender scent of him, clinging onto the interior. 

“This…this is-” You’re grappling for the words as he’s shooting a kind smile your way, “So all those car magazines aren’t just for fun, huh?”

Choso’s lips twitch, “You noticed. Yeah- a 2025 Ford Mustang Dark Horse.” Tapping the wheel reverently, “My pride and joy.”

“I can tell.” As he looks at you curiously, “My family, we ah- we can hear you driving down the street sometimes, it’s incredible.”

Snickering, “Bet the neighborhood hates me then. With good reason, this thing goes from 0 to 60 in four seconds. 500 horsepower-” 

Then there’s a look he shares your way - something the complete opposite of the nervous, stuttering boy he’d been earlier. Perhaps closer to all the whispers that shrouded him instead- “-without modifications, that is.”

And you didn’t doubt that he’d made many.

“So how fast can you really go?” You’re asking with a quirked brow, slightly leaned over the console to take in all the numerous meters on his side of the seat. 

The heat of your proximity makes Choso bite back a gasp- “Trying to find out?”

There’s something in his words - his tone.

“What if I am?”

“I-I’d advise you against it.” He’s answering easily, the thickness of his thumb toying with the gear shift in dizzying circles. “Don’t you know what everyone in this town says about me?”

“They say a lot of things-”

“The loudest being that you should stay away.” Long, dark locks fall over his features as he nods, pulling to a stop at a barren red light. Darkness inking beyond his headlights, as if the only living beings on Earth right now were you, him– 

“You know, I don’t care what they say if I don’t truly know you.”

“Let’s- let’s just drive slow, get you home safe and you can forget about m-”

VRRRR—!

And the assholes that had pulled up to the side of Choso’s car. 

Gesturing him to lower his window, the boisterous voices from the neighboring vehicle hit you instantly. “Oi- nice car!” And before Choso can seemingly thank them, they’re revving up the engine of their own. “Would hate to embarrass ya in front of your girl, though.”

“She’s not my-”

“Why doesn’t she come with us?” One of their troupe of men lean out of the window, “We can show her a real fast car.”

You grimace, taking a glance at the still-red light. “Ew.”

“Oi-”

Your savior turns up the engine of his Mustang, cutting off the other man cleanly - and just a peek his way shows you his darkened eyes. Eyes hooded, face bathed in red from the traffic stop. Tone hard enough that you’re wondering whether this was the same man from just a few minutes ago. “Those are fighting words.”

Orange now. 

A sleazy cackle rings out, “That so?”

“You’re asking me?”

“No, I’m asking your gir-”

Green.

You’re instantly sunken deeply into the cushion of your seat as Choso speeds off- tailed closely by the Mercedes of your unwelcome guest. So fast that your surroundings are a blur, so hard that you can barely even move your mouth-

“A- a race?” You’re managing out.

“And we’re gonna win.”

Speeding; and you have a slight feeling that Choso was barely even trying as he’s looking over at the rearview mirror to watch the flashing headlights of his opponents.

Muttering underneath his breath, he shifts his gear with a clack to burst in speed- “Fucking imbeciles.” And if you thought his car was loud before, then you weren’t ready for him to smash the Sports Mode on his touchscreen and make the engine keen deafeningly. 

“Hold on tight, my girl.”

Clack!

“Shit, a fucking Mercedes, huh?” 

Clack!

Clack!

Another gear shift, and you’re seeing the trees of the landscape mix into one great splash of mere green. Choso flicks his eyes over in the side mirror only once- before the entire car swerves to the right to block off the Mercedes. “Fucking imbeciles.”

“Ch-Choso.” You’re gasping out, holding onto your seatbelt for dear life. Fuck- you think you’re seeing the line on his speedometer jerk upright as he steps harder on the gas pedal. 

“Yeees–?”

Your finger trembles - whether from fear or adrenaline, you have no idea - when you’re reaching it somewhere past the windshield. Eyes nearly bulging out of your skull once you take in the familiar road, “There’s a bend coming around. Hard.”

“Perfect.”

Clack!

You’re hitting the large dip in the road before you know it- thrown in so hard against the left side of the Ford Mustang that you claw onto Choso’s arm. Reached right over the console to grab onto his flexed biceps, “Heh.” He looks down at you through lowered lashes for a second, “Told you to hold on tight.”

Gaping speechlessly, you dig your nails against his pale skin and watch as he bites down on his lower lip. 

Fingers tilting down the rearview mirror, “And now, for those bastards.”

Bracing yourself, you manage to garner up enough strength in your body to raise your front off of him - only mildly mortified about being thrown around like a ragdoll by his driving. Taking a quick glance behind, “Oh, they slowed down for the bend.”

“Mhm, told you we’d win.” Choso grins, easily flicking off the Sports Mode for an easier regular one. You’re cruising smoothly down the velvety road, Mercedes long out of sight and out of mind. “You’re like my good luck charm- that means I better get you home safe n’ sound now..”

And that’s exactly what he does.

No more races, no more assholes on supercars - you’re turning into the suburban street of your tidy neighborhood without another hitch.

Well, if you don’t count the rumbling engine that was sure to disturb all the neighbors, that is. 

But strangely enough, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care as much as you should. Not even when he’s slowing down by the familiar driveway to your house, not even as you watch the lights inside flick on at the noise. 

Dwindling into a low purr by the time that Choso stops- “A-about before- I am so sorry about that, I don’t know why I let them get to me and-” He’s running a hand down his pretty features, “-and I promised myself I’d be good for you but-”

“Are you kidding me?” You breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

“That was-” He winces, waiting for your outburst. “-amazing?”

Choso’s fawny eyes widen, “What?”

“That was the most alive I’ve felt in ages.” You’re starting, “I mean- sure, I wanted to throw up a little but I promise once the nausea stopped it was really fun. And did you see the look on their faces- pffft, those assholes deserved it. Fucking- Mercedes.” Against all judgment, you’re gripping onto his broad shoulders just to shake with emphasis. “I didn’t even know you could drive like that- have you ever considered real racing? Fuck, I wonder if you could go even faster with this beauty.” 

Now it was his turn to be awestruck. Soundless. And suddenly you’re understanding just how self-conscious he must’ve been back at the campus. 

“Hello?”

“…”

“I mean…oh, what am I even saying.” You couldn’t grab your bag fast enough, hastily opening the door. “Thank you for the ride!”

You make three steps to your front porch - exactly three for Choso to snap out of his little reverie and chase right after you.

Long legs striding up, one of his matching exactly two or more of yours- a large hand catching your wrist, soft breath striking your face once he pulls you back. “Wait.”

Pants desperate, voice pleading.

You’re staring up at him so close that you could count each of his glinting metal piercings - those two sensual snakebites on his lower lip, one on his left eyebrow, several dangling upon both ears. And you swear you see one wink out from the tip of his pink tongue as he’s opening and closing his mouth.

“Do you-”

“I hope-”

You both speak at the same time, huffing out in slight amusement. You gesture for him to go, and he insists, “Ladies first.”

“Fine.” You’re letting him have his way, and the defeat is not nearly as bitter as how sweet it was watching Choso beam down at you from his height. “I just ah- hoped I didn’t weird you out or anyth-”

“Never.” 

He says it so seriously that you almost find yourself taking a step back- almost, because he still had his warm fingers curled softly around your wrist. As if he’d noticed your flighty demeanor, Choso drags you a few steps back with him, leaning against the side of his supercar. “Actually- would you like to go to a…thing-”

“A thing?”

“A place-”

“A shady place?”

“Yes-” Seeing the look in your gaze, “-but no! It’s just a race- a big one.” And fuck- he was finding it difficult to hold the line of your sight, ears scorching redder and redder every second you bored up at him. “And I want you there- if you would like to come, as my…” Choso winces, like he was despising each word spilling from his mouth. “-good luck…charm.”

You grin, “Is that a date?”

He squeaks- “If- if you want it to be.”

“Hmm.” Pretending to think for a second, you’re only deciding to let Choso off the hook after you watch as he genuinely, physically sweats a trickle of perspiration down his temple waiting for your answer. “It’ll be a date-” He gasps. “-if - and only if - you win first place.”

The grin you’re gifted with is devastating - and Choso Kamo doesn’t stutter a single syllable as he quirks a brow. As he leans in. As he bends down just enough that his deep, drawling words tickle your ear, “Oh, you’re gonna watch me win, baby.”

Oh. 

And you’re still thinking of them even as you manage to waddle your feet back up to your house after exchanging numbers. Predictably, being met with a lecture from your parents and yet not registering a single word. 

That is, not until-

“-and wasn’t it that boy?”

Snapping up at their disapproving tone, “Who? That was Choso, he gave me a ride when there was no one else on-”

“You should stay away, you know what they say.” Wagging a finger reproachfully, “How many times have we told you to stay away from brutes like that? And you just had to go and get fondled by the exact same one the entire town’s been talking about- and don’t lie to me, we saw you through the window.”

“Then you’d have seen that we were doing nothing.” You’re gripping onto your bag hard enough to tear, heart thumping with anger where it was once excitement. 

“That was not ‘nothing’, girl. I thought we raised you better than that.”

“But-”

“All the loud cars and the tattoos. Mark my word he’ll end up-”

Mumbling, “He was actually really sweet…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” 

“You’ll ruin your life.”

“I barely have one.”

With a long-weary sigh, you block out the rest of the screeching to head for your bedroom - the same ol’ innocent bedroom you’d had since you were a child. Throwing yourself over your bed, you scroll through the listings of studios in your university area, as you often did.

Except this time, you dare to bookmark one. Just one. 

.

.

.

It was hard not to know when Choso Kamo stared.

Because Choso never stared, he never tore his eyes away from the glossy pages of his motorsports magazine, even during lectures. And you always did wonder how he managed to top the scores of each exam despite that. 

Except for now.

Right now, you’re feeling the burning sensation of two dark peripherals on the back of your head - immediately making you swivel your own gaze behind you. 

Lo and behold, there he was - pen tapping on the side of his plush, rosy lips, brows furrowed as if you were the toughest of calculations he just couldn’t figure out. But the moment your pupils meet his, Choso only grins.

Mouthing, ‘Tonight.’

Your veins bubble when you notice more than one pair of eyes from the lecture hall on the two of you, and the implication of something happening ‘tonight’ wasn’t lost on your little audience. 

But you nod anyway, a reminder of what the two of you had been texting back n’ forth for days now. ‘Tonight.’

“What’s happening tonight and why are you eye-fucking Choso Kamo?” Shoko’s whisper infiltrates your little bubble - and many other nearby bubbles, if the way that a few students titter was anything to go by. 

“Shoko.” You elbow her side.

“No no, I want to know too.” Utahime pipes up, “Have you learned nothing from the two-bit bad boys in those shitty Netflix movies we watch?”

“He’s not just a two-bit bad boy, he also has a car.” Shoko’s adding on, “And I heard my neighbor’s friend’s aunt’s cousin say that he’s an F1 hopeful-”

The other gasps, “Is it the athlete’s salary tempting you, my dear? Y’know, I’m old money-”

Groaning, “It’s not like that.”

Shoko’s glancing between the two of you - Choso back at his books now that there wasn’t anything more worthy of his attention. You were looking away, after all. She balances a pen on her upper lip in thought, “When did that even happen, though?”

After a few seconds of trying to hide in your hands wasn’t working - in fact, it only made Professor Gakuganji throw more and more increasingly disgruntled glares your way - you sigh. “Well…you two remember last week when I stayed late at the labs? And I said someone was kind enough to give me a lift?” At two matching nods, “It was…”

“Him.”

“Him.” Utahime shakes you by your shoulders, “He didn’t do anything weird, did he, my dear? Oh, do I need to kill-”

“Not at all—” You wave them off, deciding to tell them about the impromptu race later today - preferably at an open space where it would be more acceptable for Utahime to scream bloody murder. “He was actually sweet and…”

Utahime and Shoko gawk at you with wide eyes, and the shorter-haired of the two speaks. “…and?”

“And a bit…cute.”

The pen clatters to down, down, down to the floor.

Already interrupting the class enough, you decide to simply rip the bandage off in one go- “And we may or may not have planned a date for tonight.”

It turns out that you’d very unfortunately overestimated Utahime’s ability to control her scream in a closed educational environment. 

.

.

.

It was electric. 

You felt electric. 

Choso leans over his seat to indulge in your personal space, and you’re sure you’d be melting if it wasn’t for the way that both your eyes were locked on one noisy opponent - that Mercedes. 

Engine revving right beside the Ford Mustang, sour faces peeking through the window with a thirst for revenge - who’d have thought that your lil’ enemy from the street competition would wind up being your opponents in an actual street race?

Honestly, tonight you’d let Choso drive you deep into a dingy corner of the town you didn’t even know existed in all your years living here.

You doubted that anyone knew of this secretive scene.

Filled to the brim with as many supercars as your lonely roads could hold- hell, Choso had told you that some participants drove from multiple cities away solely for these races. They were lining every inch of tarmac like glitzy streetlights made to overpower, the type to have given half your town an aneurysm just to think about. 

“It’s why I ended up here for my exchange program, y’know?” He was whispering in your ear, voice low in a way it was just for you. “The racing, the cars, the practice. I wanted it all before I went big.”

Dark eyes flickering briefly to you, “Didn’t think I’d find something else worth winning, too.”

Your breath hitched, you didn’t know what else to say to that. And Choso didn’t elaborate- instead informing you on the make and model of the cars that would be going up against him this time. 

And the roaring cheers grow deafening by the time a woman in a glittering outfit waltzes over to the middle of the track, a handkerchief held carefully in hand. Her cheery voice chimes out. “Alriiight, I want a nice, clean race around town- not. You know the drill- all racers on go by the time the cloth drops. Ready—?”

Teasing the little fabric around, you can pick out a few stray shouts surrounding the car- “Choso? That’s Choso Kamo? No way he seriously brought his gal- the man doesn’t even know how to smile-”

“They say it’s his last official race before he goes pro- better show off then, eh?”

“Move move I can’t see- Oh my  god it’s really him, shit, he has a girl, too. You think they’ll win?”

As you’re nervously toying with your fingers, you jolt at the sudden feeling of ice-cold rings sliding around your throat. One hand of Choso’s on the wheel, the other putting slight pressure on your neck to make you gasp. “Don’t you worry, baby. We’re gonna win this.”

“Set—!”

“Because of the date?” You watch from the corner of your eye as she’s waving the handkerchief ‘round like a chequered flag, raising it up, up, up—

“Because I have my lucky charm with me.”

“Go–!”

.

.

.

“Oh sh-shit.” A shrill whimper tears out from your throat the very second that Choso’s slimy tongue hits your inner thighs. 

He’s just so long - so dexterous that the pinkish tip of him curls inwardly along your sodden panties. Lavishing the swollen folds of your pussy with a few kittenish licks, you feel yourself buck in need at the slight graze of his tongue piercing. “Fuuuck, Choso, you’re not even gonna take my p-panties off?”

“Haaa—” His scalding hot breath gusts out in a sticky pant, and you can only watch as his lips purse to spit straight down your slippery slit. 

A fat glob of saliva that he’s smearing with the front end of his thumb, snickering. “No.”

And then Choso’s pursuing the quivering lips of your pussy like he’s a man starved - ravenous. Fuck, you didn’t even know how you got here.

It was a given that he would win that street race, coming in first among all the cars with an almost ridiculous lead. But it was only when Choso had kept driving - not even stopping to collect his cash prize - that you’d started to question what he had in mind…

And there you were- sprawled out across the back of his Ford Mustang and smearing the expensive seats with your sheeny slick. 

He’d driven you to the edge of some romantic viewpoint, a place to watch the twinkling stars above - but right now, Choso was drinking in a much better view. 

“Oh-” The edge of his sharp jawline strikes your cunt, “Oh.” And no matter how close he was, he wanted more - he needed to see your pretty pussy all up close n’ personal. 

Using the knobbly edge of his thumb to pull your folds apart with a sluuuurp, Choso’s mouth just waters seeing you drip ‘round your stringy panties. “Congratulations to me.” He’s drawling, syllables shaky. “She’s better than any grand prize, my baby.”

“You’re just so filthy—” You’re whining, hips rutting off of the cushioned seats while he’s making out with your pussy through your panties. 

Slap after slap of his mouth plastering to every inch of your hot core. 

It’s as if he was just trying to make you even messier, with each side of those rosy pink lips drooling against your pussy. “Mmm, tell me something I don’t already know, baby.”

Slickly rovering his tongue up n’ down the line of your slit- you feel Choso hone his wet muscle until he’s aligned precisely towards your sloppy hole. Pushin’ against the barrier of your underwear like he’s attempting to thrust his way in, “Stop teasing me, Choso–”

“Teasing? Who’s teasing?” 

Another push of his tongue against the cloth of your drenched panties and you shriek, just barely feeling the pressure of his mouth drag against where you really needed him the most. “Then eat me out properly-”

Mockingly confused, your pupils sprint all the way to the back of your throat as you’re feeling him murmur straight into your cunt. “M’not teasing, I just can’t see-”

“S-see?”

Looking down so fast that your chin knocks against your chest, in the dim street lighting you can make out the long mess of Choso’s hair. The way his unruly bangs were gluing to his forehead, half-obscuring his darkened gaze. 

“Mmm, m’just doing what I can—” He playfully hums, so close that he was practically nose-deep n’ yet still refusing to make out with your pussy past your panties. “Oh, if only I had my pretty girl to pull my- oh, fuck.”

Choso doesn’t get to finish his damn sentence before you’re giving him exactly what he asked for.

“Is this enough?”

Your trembly hands plunged into his clammy scalp, tugging on his silky hair- enough for you to admire his pretty, flushed face. All twisted into a mean smirk, “O-oh, now I can see.” There’s something unsteady in his words, as if he was on the very verge of shattering. “Now just tell me where you want m-mmpf-”

Then you’re shoving his face between your legs and Choso moans.

Mouth slacked all the way ajar- lengthy tongue coming out to simply flick aside your ruined panties. “F-fuck.” Choso’s wastin’ absolutely no time prodding at your clenched hole and squeeze-squeeze-squeezing inside. “Lemme see her. Lemme taste her- my pretty baby.”

Rutting the front of his hips into the backseat, he clings two large hands upon each side of your hips to haul your pussy deeper against his mouth.

Primal tongue slobbering everywhere, he’s gluing his textured tastebuds to the roof of your entrance and watches as you squirm oh-so-cutely. Pushing n’ pushing until he feels the first pressure of resistance from your cunt, “Ngh- Choso, dunno if it’ll- fit-”

“But you’re a goood girl- aren’t ya, baby?” Reeling back with a dewy plop! to prod his tongue into each of your nooks. “So aren’t ya gonna take my tongue like hah- a good girl?”

Your hand claws to clamp your mouth shut as you feel him stick his mouth against your entrance and start to bully inside once more. “I- I don’t-”

“Ah ah, none of that.” Only to have one set of his slender fingers tug down your shaky hand, hearing your pretty whines like his favorite song.

Fuck, Choso can only let you buck wildly once he’s rubbin’ his tongue piercing along your clit. “You’re gonna be loud-” His tongue was just unfairly flexible, twisting around until the metallic orb near the middle hits down your nub with a splat! “Yeah- exactly like that, pretty baby.” He could barely even speak through each pressurized push, “Gonna let this, mmm, entiiiire fuckin’ town hear. And then-”

And then he’s throwing your boneless limbs over his broad shoulders, ankles locking on instinct ‘round the back of Choso’s neck. 

It’s the change in angle that has you gasping, holding onto the cushions surrounding you for dear life when that only makes his mouth roam deeper- “-th-then you’re gonna fucking take all of my- ngh- tongue.” 

Muffled, each syllable leaves your pussy all raw n’ sensitive. 

Splashing out oodles of syrupy sweet sap each time the tip of Choso’s taste buds scrape the inside of your cunt. Stretchin’ out your poor hole to the maximum until you’re mewling at the sting.

Constricting widely, he’s shovelling your walls apart until you’re memorizing the exact feeling of his tongue. Pump after pump. 

He wasn’t just hungry - it’s like he hadn’t eaten for eons with the way that Choso was grinding and grinding his face between your face. Each gyration of his tongue rendering you speechless, licking all over your sweetest spots until not an inch was left undiscovered by him. 

You feel the glossy points of his snakebites stick against the base of your outer pussy and gasp.

“And then my cock next.”

“Oh- oh my god- ngh-” You babble away- was it possible to bottom out on a tongue? Because the curvy tip of his tongue was reaching all the way near your g-spot and you couldn’t help but sob. 

Hands trekking down on instant to-

SMACK!

Your fingers twitch where Choso had swatted your hand away, crushing it within one of his. “But Choso-”

“And who said you could play with my prize?” He tilts his head, dark eyes narrowed in a way that looked almost dangerous. Plump lips twitching with a sleazy grin, “S’my pussy, baby.”

Before you know it, he’s guiding your guilty hand down to meet his maw. Slick-sheened fingertips finding their way just between his lips- oh, he was greedy for your sweet, sweet juices. He wasn’t about to let you have a single drop.

Sucklin’ on them like his favorite flavored lolly, Choso stares right into your eyes once he replaces what you wanted with his own fingers.

A drive-roughened index smearing open the edges of your pussy, “D’you know that?” 

You’re shuttering your eyes in need, “Oh my god your fingers-”

Pressing just inside your hole, “Do you know that?” You can only let out a few more mindless wails in response, and he’s slipping a second finger against the roof of your core. “Need you to answer me if you want-”

“Yes- yes.” You claw against his strong wrist so hard that you’re leaving marks. Doing anything - everything to get him to go deeper, to sloppily fill you up from the inside with his fingertips. “Oh…mmm, please, Choso.”

“And don’t you forget it.” You’re being treated like a lil’ plaything - one thumb flicking your clit, two more scouring inside your glossy walls. “I’m taking my prize tonight.”

There’s a lecherous, resounding plop! as he manages to fully sink in the two prolonged fingers all the way till his knuckles hit the slope of your pussy. The curvaceous edge of Choso’s index easily mazing past to locate your throbbing g-spot, “Oh fuck- so deep- ngh, so…”

Only letting off once your own fingerpads are licked all clean of your slick, he hastily pushes his face back into your treacly cunt. “That’s it, thaaaat’s it. Fuck up into m-me- into my face.”

And he had you have you on his flushed face - Choso needed you on his face. 

Right then and right now, it’s like he’s fighting against himself for a mere piece of your pussy. Like the sweetest dessert in the world, he laps up every slimy ounce of leaky slick- wide tongue draaagging in circles ‘round and ‘round your sensitive hole.

One that was being absolutely pummelled by his fingers, he’s filling up every slick orifice with the curve of his digits. Hooking them so they thrash right against your g-spot-

“This is how ya do it.” You swear you watch as the mountains of Choso’s knuckles turn red with the slamming impact of his pumps, “Look at her- mm, just look. Now this is a winning celebration, huh?”

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Your pupils are speeding in stupid circles within the whites of your eyes, hands twitching on his brown locks. The metal of his snakebites snag against the sensitive part of your folds and your legs shake, “It just feels too good- hck!”

Dragging down his handsome face harder against your pussy- and the manhandling force makes him rut. Crushing the rock-hard outline of his bulge against the carseat, “Too good, huh?”

And then the unthinkable happens - Choso dares to pull his long, hammering fingers out of your pussy. 

Instantly latching his pearly white canines onto your clit to bite so you can’t get out a single complaint- he’s forcing you to be patient as he reaches for something in the back pocket of his trousers. “Don’t you move now.” As you’re starting to push away from his shoulders at the sheer fucking stimulation making you see stars. “Don’t you fucking move.”

He’s serious about not letting you escape- one hand reaching behind his sweaty head. He grips both your ankles in one hand and locks them together, pinning them firmly together, dragging you to him.

“Excuse me for this, baby, I can’t take my hah- reward otherwise.”

In a split-second, his fingers are back to bullying between your puffy pussylips- but they weren’t the only thing pryin’ apart your bubblegum walls. 

Oh.

With a gasp, you’re lurching your dazed head up as much as possible - watching in real time when Choso’s now-ringed fingers disappear between your folds. 

Chunky, cold metal rings scraping your innards carnally, you feel him press a particularly textured one against the area of your nerves and see white- “Oh- oh my god, mmm—” Reaching for the very back of your core, he’s scissoring your cunt open to reach for your g-spot with a dull thud! 

Pushing into each softened spot. 

Your throat’s clogging with saliva again and again as he’s thrusting in n’ out, in n’ out, in and- “I don’t think I’ll last.”

Fuck, that makes him push his raging erection against the cushion and groan. 

“Then cum on my face.” Choso states simply, pressing a sweet lil’ kiss on your clit. Your quivering entrance splatters out a few speckles of glittery slick that latch onto his chin, “Cum on my mouth.”

Sticking his long tongue out, you can see the dot of his piercing glimmer in the dim lighting. Rovering down to swirl on your clit, he’s driving you wild with precise, prodding rolls right over your overstimulated nub. 

It was a dual stimulation - and you should’ve guessed from all the expert driving, but he was damn near taking you to heaven with all the multi-tasking.

Clawing at your every gooey spot, the splotchy stains of your sap cling onto his lips like a gleaming  medal. Every swirl of his greedy tongue on your clit making your back arch so cutely into his touch. 

The flesh of Choso’s bottom lip teasingly juts out to tickle his snakebites along your slope, “Cum alllll over my tongue, baby.”

At this point you don’t know what to ogle - the vicious lashings of his mouth, or the way he just looked so pretty doing it. 

Stray strands of his bangs falling over his forehead, ears burnt rouge, biceps flexing as he fights off the thrashing of your legs to keep you in one place. 

“Oh- oh, fuck-”

“Yeah-” Your eardrums flood with the rickety sound of friction on his decadent carseat, and only then do you realize that Choso was humping it. Fucking you with his mouth the way he wished he could with his swollen cock right now. “Yeah yeah yeah- exactly.”

Honey-brown eyes locked right into the target of your own as he bucks n’ bucks his face deeper into your sloppy pussy. Wrist aching, mouth panting, but he couldn’t fucking stop. 

You’re feeling him directly smash in a repeated one-two against your g-spot and choke- “I-I think m’gonna…” Trailing off, each n’ every word slurs together into one long call-out of his name. Thighs twitching as if you were electrocuted, “Oh, mmm- m’cumming, Cho-”

The only thing you can manage through your wobbly lips before throwing your head back and cumming.

Rushing into your orgasm so hard that it makes your ears pop! “I…I can’t believe I- fuck!” Your lashes flutter at the way he kept his probin’ fingers jackhammering through your high, blinking back tears. “Y-you’re only making it even ngh- better.”

Plap! Plap! Plap! The rugged joints of his knuckles nearly rub raw at the impact against your pussy’s slope, scouring against your poor battered g-spot. 

Your hands were on his ready head, holding on to grind on those pretty features in sloppy drags. Zaps of your pleasure bursting at the feeling of his piercings on your flesh, “You really are filthy.”

And Choso was more than happy to have his mouth be used, have the tip of his nose be ridden. 

“That’s it-” Eyes twinkling watching your cute lil’ hole spray him with flecks of slick, each peak of your high making you clamp down.

He’s slithering his tongue just vertically down your treacly cunt to try n’ bully it greedily inside. Swabbing with the metal of his tongue piercing, and you think you see white. Head throwing back at the sheerly raw stretchhh—

Yearning to feel the way your goopy innards squeezed ‘round his muscle once more, “Tha’s it- oh, baby, clench like that and m’gonna cu- fuck.”

Too late.

Too late; Choso was already feeling your snug, dripping insides melt around his tastebuds and he was already creaming his pants. A dark, dark stain forming where his leaky orifice kept wadding out seed- the man takes a glance down and tuts.

“S’all your fucking fault, y’know?”

“M-mine?” And by now your wave of euphoria was nothing but a few tingles here and there- so Choso’s lifting himself out from between your trembly legs. Albeit with a sloppy last French kiss on your sopping pussy. Two. 

Three.

Four- fuck, you had to be the one to wrench Choso away by the base of his perspired bangs. Leaving a few jet-black stains of his eyeliner smeared between your legs.

Forcing him to stop pussydrunkenly chasing the taste of your cunt, “Yes, fucking look at me.” He sounds gone. “M’addicted and it’s all y-your fault, baby.”

And he was dripping wet from his twitchy girth, so much so that his trousers stick to the upper half of his thighs like a second skin. Choso’s peeling his ruined pants and boxers off and oh-

“Fuck.” You’re gasping, in a daze. Eyes never leaving the hot, pinkish length that he’d just freed, “You’re so…”

Big.

Huge.

Staggering.

Damn near nine or ten inches, and so pretty, too. 

The cutest lil’ shade of pink on his globular tip, glistening with cum n’ covered with a few sparse veins that led to his happy trail. More than rock-hard, it looked painful. And was that- oh, fuck. 

He had a fucking Prince Albert’s piercing - right there, dotted on the line of his sensitive slit. Choso slaps down his heavy cock between your legs and watches as you squirm at the feeling of him slipping n’ sliding between your folds. 

From your distance leaned against the end of the backseat, you’re measuring him up. Eyeing the girth of him, fuck, he was fat enough that your legs squeeze-

“Now now-” Hastily, he unsticks your clammy thighs and flips you over onto your front. Leaning his weight down on your back to keep your restless body pinned, “-none of that.” Tonality breathy, octaves higher. “None of that none of that- oh, you’re not getting off easy tonight, pretty baby.”

Somewhere along the line of you ogling his impressive length, Choso had taken off his rugged band t-shirt. And fuck- you didn’t know which view was better. 

Because he was naturally ripped - all lean abs and pecs that jiggled once he’s leaning down. Your mouth waters when you take in the piercings going through his rosy nipples, the draconic tattoos going down his neck. 

You’re craning your head, now on all fours. “I-I could’ve guessed.” Sheepishly, as he’s aligning his thick, throbbing cockhead against your entrance. 

Choso pulls back on your tattered panties with a snap! “We’re gonna give this entire town something to hah- talk about.”

And that’s exactly what he does. 

Because the moment you feel his reddish crown bulge between your folds- you almost bawl. The utter primal stretch so much that he’s clawing onto your hips to keep you still. 

“Come on.” Choso spits into your open mouth, one of his free hands pressing up on your tummy - hard - just to feel that sensation of his large outline spearing through your walls. “Come on come on-”

“Fuck- fuck, Choso, you’re in s-so deep-”

“Here’s the finish line.” You hear him titter from above you, index paintin’ an invisible line somewhere about halfway down your stomach. Right where his target of your womb was. 

And before you can get out a single word, he rears his hips closer and makes you see stars. Closer. Deeper. The curvy weight of his tip bullies between your first ring of muscle, so thick that you can barely even clench. “First, m’here-”

You gasp, “Wh-what-”

“The- the starting line-” He’s hissing out, deliciously rutting a meager inch back n’ forth just to make you feel the way your entrance was gaped to the max. “Now I’m…”

With a hand pressed down to feel your cute tummy bulge, Choso’s fat cock slips further down your walls. Easing in after such a raw, primal squeeelch- 

“-here.”

“Oh- my god- I can’t believe-” You whimper, nails clawing at the faux leather for all he was putting you through. Just a few more solid inches, a few more visceral bucks of his hips and you’re babbling stupidly. “Are you ngh- are you there yet? Are you even halfway?”

“Mmm, not quite.” Choso twists out a grin.

Free hand snaking between your legs to lap up a few ounces of your sappy slick, mixing with his cum from before. It’s such a filthy concoction, and it’s exactly what’s being used to draw a line right over your tummy. 

“M’here and then-” Another rut, another line - higher upwards this time. The fat, aching length of his cock was slickly mazing between your walls and making your head spin. Tapping that lil’ spot with his pointer,  “…h-here.”

Until you could feel every pulse, every vein.

Choso Kamo didn’t even have to try to fill your poor channel up, his vein-decorated shaft poking into every tiny crevice and cranny. Until you felt like you were being molded to his very size. 

“And- and then-” Even he wasn’t immune to the completely carnal feeling- your cunt was just too hot, too soft. He’s pokin’ his pointed tip into one of your tender spots and throwing his head back at the way it makes your glossy walls tighten. “-finally-” Rutting. Half-thrusts. “-here.”

Hitting your cervix dead-on, right with his pierced part.

“H-heh…the grand prize.”

Shit, all this effort putting up a cool front and that very first thrust shatters Choso. 

It makes him gasp, it makes him stutter- groaning out your name in a gravelly tone like a mantra. 

“Fuck- the…grand- oh.” He’s babbling away his own joke, planting yet another thorough slam all the way to the back of your pussy. Hard enough that the vehicle quakes. 

Strawberry-pink tip swelling up just a bit more at the impact. Sheathed until those curly dark hairs at his base, and Choso chuckles like he’d just stumbled across an epiphany. “Your cervix- I hit it- got s-second place, too.”

Second place…?

You blearily blink your eyes, saliva flooding at the pure stretch. “Are you-”

Pap–! 

“And third-” In a sultry split-second, you’re being pulled back by one of Choso’s beefy biceps - in a fucking headlock. His pierced lips kissing the side of your face, “Got third, too, baby- are you p-proud of me?”

Your hands fist in his silken hair- “Yes- Yes yes yes- ngh, it just feels too good, Cho.”

There’s a sudden slurp, and suddenly the two of you are snapping your heads back down to watch how your stimulated pussy grows even wetter. Spraying out syrupy slick with each of his furious pumps, every slam leaves his meaty thighs stuck to the backs of yours like adhesive. 

A roughened thumb slithers down to spread your pussylips. “O-oh.” Just so that he can watch his achingly hard cock disappear from your winking hole. Studded piercing dipping in and out in and out in and out- “We’re gonna break this damn car, baby— Just like this hah- pretty pussy is breaking me.”

Headlock tightening, backseats creaking. “Ch-Cho, are you-” Another smash against the spongy layer of your cervix and he swears.

You’re peering into the tinted window of his Mustang and seeing the full effect of your sweet, candied pussy on him.

Head hunched, back muscles tense. 

It’s like he was breaking - bit by bit with every swab of his cocktip against your deepest innards. The rounded globe of his orifice probes into the door to your womb and you find yourself drooling. “Choso, are you even ngh- okay?”

Choso’s long lashes bat, eyeliner smudging ‘round sexily, “No. Fuck.” Sizzling tastebuds lolling out to lick the salted tears streaming down your face. “Fuck- fuck, how could I ever be okay?”

You’re feeling his abs plaster against your spine, usin’ the weight to angle his roaming length even deeper. “A pussy as sweet as you- ohhhh.” Grunts departing into your ear following each rut after rut- “M’n-never going to be okay.”

Choso’s puffy veins drag against your g-spot and you whine. “H-harder.”

“Harder?” Something that sounds like a pussydrunk giggle escapes him, eyes wide. Feral. “Can you even handle harder, my girl?”

Huffing, the first thing you’re thinking to respond with is a sloppy nod. Your neck is barely even capable of keeping your heavy head upright by now, “Faster, too.”

Oh.

Oh.

You were fucked. 

Because when you said ‘fast’, you didn’t think that he would act this rapidly. Taking barely a second - no, a nanosecond - to plunge his angrily hard dick out n’ flip your limp body over. 

From the filthiest doggy position to having your legs ‘round his slender waist, his cock ebbing deep inside once more. The new angle easily lets his weepy girth map your walls, mazin’ inside like a searchlight. 

Reaching your aching g-spot easily- “Hold on tight, my girl.”

And then he’s fucking your dizzy brain thoughtless. 

Until the firm, steady frame of his supercar was shaking from side-to-side.

Plump, raging cock stuffin’ right between your folds to poke against the top of your cervix. Again and again. Thump after thump. 

His piercing is so cold that it makes you shiver. And Choso takes extra care to make sure that his winding veins find a way to precisely scrape your most treasured spots. 

One hand holding onto the right side of your face, gently brushing against the top of your cheekbone. “It feels so hah- good, oh.” The other toying with your pretty lil’ clit, “So good it’s driving me- fuck, crazy.”

Drawing out the cutest hearts with his thumb on your nub, Choso was just so gone that you swear his pupils were starting to turn heart-shaped, too. 

Especially once he catches two of your hands snaking down the sweaty line of his chest- stopping right where the curve of his pecs were. Without a second thought, you’re fingering the sensitive area of his nipple piercings. 

Choso arches, he shivers. “Heh, you’re fucking dangerous, baby.” Drilling cock overspilling your insides with a few sticky wads of precum as you tug on one of them.

You whine when he’s withdrawing the loving hand from your cheek to swab the cavern of your mouth. “That’s what they said about- ngh- you.” 

“Mmm—” He lolls his head pussydrunkenly, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You’re sure that Choso’s leaving a few bites and smears of eyeliner for you to worry about later. Each word punctured with a thrash of his rotund tip, “Well, they don’t know me yet.”

“A-and I do?”

“Well…” And that makes the sinful man grin. 

It makes him unload the hand from your ajar maw - removing it with a few stringy ribbons of spit. And it’s exactly that moisture that Choso’s using to write out your damn name on his left pec, right above his heart. 

“You-” Your voice clogs up in your throat- because he wasn’t done. Far from it.

Because soon enough, the ringed fingerpads simply teasin’ your clit start to repeat in a pattern. A swoopy few movements that you’re realizing is his name.

C-H-O-S-O-K-A-M-O

Yours on his heart, his on your cunt. 

Spelled out expertly on the buttony top of your clit, you’re seeing stars after each quick movement. The sharp turns n’ swoops of his name being branded onto you was almost too much to handle. 

Which was exactly what he was looking for- and the tips of Choso’s plush lips twitch at the sight of you slowly edging towards your high. “Yeahhh, you fuckin’ do. Know me better than hah- anyone else here, my pretty baby.”

Throat breaking out in a sob, “I-I’m so close-” Pulling on his hair, thrashing up your hips. “Not gonna hngh- last too long, Cho—”

“Oh, yeah? Say my name like that- say my name.”

But you can’t say anything, really - because in a singular, fluid motion, Choso has your legs perched on his flexing shoulders. Your capped knees pressing down until they hit your tits- the realization smites you and you gasp. 

“A-a mating press?”

“Whaaaat–?” Drawling out through a drunken hiccup, he gifts you three strikes with his Prince Albert’s on your g-spot. Thud-thud-thud. “Wanna see your gorgeous fuckin’ ngh- face when you’re cumming on my cock.”

This angle was perfect for glissading a line of pre straight across your g-spot, unstopping until he’s hitting the back of your cervix with a rattling thud. Speeding his sloppy tempo up until the smacks of skin-on-skin were downright deafening. 

Ears ringing with the sappy squelches reeled out of you after every second of his rough cadence. With the way the car was shifting- “You’re just so- so filthy.”

“Mmm, only for you, baby.” Comes out the ragged response, something near the tailend of his sentence cracking. And so is his restraint. His sanity. “A-Always for you, baby.”

He’s driving into you as if he was crazed; toned pelvis of his stinging red, temple trickling with sweat, the fat circumference of his crownhead was leaving absolutely no spot unturned. Thumb nearly a blur on your clit, it makes you arch to have him rewriting his name over n’ over n’ over. 

Choso’s simply ruining you from the inside out, and you can feel your body twitching already in response. 

Pants hoarse- gone. He finishes off yet another signature twist of your clit - C-H-O-S-O. “Anything for you, baby.”

And then you don’t know who’s first - it’s simply crashing into both of you at once. 

A long, blissful wave of euphoria that leaves your vision all white n’ delirious. You’re just so full- being stuffed to the very brim of your dripping wet pussy with his cum. Creamy white ropes that glue to the start of your womb n’ end up being stirred about by his length. 

The only thing you can even think to do is wrap your arms ‘round Choso’s neck and give him a lingering kiss. 

Mind spinning, stomach twisting - it’s probably the hardest orgasm of your life.

Feeling him moan into your mouth through each clench of your high, “Better than I’ve ever fucking- ngh, imagined.” 

Oh, it was just too cute to have him confessing like this as he’s fucking you through his high. 

Pushing each knot of sinful cum even deeper- “You’re better than a ngh- dream.” It makes him sensitively whimper to feel you clamping down at his words. Webs of ivory syrup sploshing through your channel like a second skin. “You might just be- oh, my dream, my girl.”

There’s just so much of it.

So much that’s spilling out. Coating his bulky base in a slathered ring of white, neither you nor him can even think to care about the stained material of the seats. 

Only plowing probe after probe of his blushin’ tip to probe into your favorite spots, Choso leaves your toes curling at the pleasure of having him draaaaag out your high with his veiny cock. 

And it takes you a few seconds to register his whiny words- “You- you really mean that?”

“Y-yeah…” He’s breathing out, in awe. Flinching when your fingers start to caress the crimson tips of Choso’s ears, “Meant every fucking word.”

“And I do, too.” At his slightly puzzled expression, you’re chuckling. “Remember the first time we met? I told you I don’t care about hck! anything this lil’ town says.” It’s almost too intimate having you brush away his bangs from his gawking eyes, but you couldn’t think of anything more fitting. “N’ I still don’t give a single fuck what they have to say-”

“O-oh.”

Choso ends up cumming again - simply from hearing those words fall from your beautiful mouth.

Except, this time, it’s dry. Just a single pearly bead of sap bein’ withered out, he juts the throbbing crown of his cock up against the roof of your cunt. 

Knees planting deeper upon either side of your hips to give you a thorough slide of his exhausted, pierced cock. He’s cumming out near sparks by the time he spits out- “Your- your parents are gonna kill me.”

“My parents are gonna kill me.”

“N-next time-” 

You knew he’d just bared his feelings out for you, but you can’t help but feel your heart flutter at the mention of a ‘next time.’ “-m’fucking you in your bedroom, my girl-” The raspy tone of Choso’s breath makes you shiver, up close n’ personal. “-while your parents are home.”

.

.

.

“Did you hear- they say that Choso Kamo races F1 and he’s-”

“Forget the racing! Did you hear he’d apparently taken her out- yeah, her, after that race last night and…well, I hear there were numerous noise complaints at that cliffside viewpoint.”

“Oh, my aunt’s her neighbor and she said the house was in chaos the entire night after she came back. Couldn’t even walk apparently.”

“He was that good?”

“Good enough that she packed her bags and moved into a place of her own, apparently.”

.

.

.

“Aaaaand Verstappen holds the lead but Kamo’s close behind—” You never did get tired of the revving thunder of the cars, the booming voice of the Formula 1 commentator fighting to be heard above them. 

You’re leaning against the wall of the VIP box with Utahime and Shoko - meant only for family and friends, stomach churning as it always did whenever it came to the last lap of Choso’s races. 

“Oh- oh! You can see Kamo weaving behind, ohhh it’s a tight one, ladies, gentlemen, and every folk in-between.” 

It was honestly still surreal to be here, of all places, after everything.

After how many told you that he’d break your heart, and here he was holding it with him through each lap like he’d fall apart without it. 

As the distance closes - all power, pressure, and speed - you’re yelling his name at the top of your lungs despite the fact that he won’t hear. “Come on— Cho–!” Waving about the flag with his number and color as all his tens of thousands of fans did. “Not too long for the finish line–!”

The announcer bellows, “Ah, you’ve got Kamo’s girlfriend, one of our most beloved F1 WAGs, yelling as the finish line draws nearer- so close! So close! Will he make it?” As that chequered flag raises, his familiar car speeds. “Push now, boy!”

His engine roars - and so does the crowd, split-seconds later. 

“And in the final corner, it’s Choso Kamo who seizes the chequered flag—! He wins the Italian Grand Prix! What a drive! What. A. Drive.”

Choso doesn’t give a single shit about the few victory laps, he doesn’t even wait for a final discussion with his pit team. 

Zooming right past the finish line and further along the main straight. Right where it was most visible to you from your seat, he’s immediately punching on the gas pedal and swerving the absolute monster of his racecar. 

Right then and there on the tracks.

Right into the shape of a…heart?

You’re giggling behind your hands as the commentator cackles– “A celebration for his eighth win this season, Kamo shows off his title- and his love!”

Surrounding you, you can hear the crows coo and cheer, you can already taste the fizzy champagne being popped. And in nearly no time, your boyfriend has pulled his car up to the parc fermé - running right through the outline of a heart he’d drawn in celebration.

Running right up the stands to you-

But not into your arms.

No, not at all. 

Instead, Choso Kamo drops to one knee right before you.

The audience loses it- and you hear the booming loudspeakers squeak. “Wait- wait’s what’s happening in the VIP box?! Choso Kamo- it can’t be-”

And Utahime, without a single word, digs inside her purse and throws a small, velvety ring box over within the blink of an eye. One that Choso catches with ease. And oh, he just looked so pretty.

The same boy you met all those years ago - lengthy hair mussed up from his helmet, rosy lips quivering, face flushed. 

“Is everyone in the pits watching? Is everyone at home watching? This is absolutely sensational! Choso Kamo has just seized the moment to propose to his long-time girlfriend, an incredible celebration of love we’re seeing here on the tracks today.”

So in love. 

Choso whispers, “It would be a dream…if you would marry me, my girl?”

Tear-filled, you can only nod. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, and every folk in-between — we have a winner—!”

A/N. The things I would do for him cannot even be spoken into existence.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[thenanamis]

YOU SAID YOU COULD HANDLE IT. (cockwarming gone wrong!??)

You only meant to keep him warm. You didn’t mean to tempt him like that.

KENTO NANAMI

He agreed only because you asked so sweetly, curling up in his lap with a soft, “Just stay inside me a bit, Kento. Please?”

So now he’s on the couch, still in his homewear tank top and loose pants, you nestled in his lap with his cock buried deep in you. Not moving. Not grinding.

Just… full.

It starts so innocently. Your face tucked into his neck, his hand stroking your back.

But your walls are fluttering around him. Warm. Wet. Clenching unintentionally with every exhale. His jaw tightens.

"Darling, if you keep that up…"

You don’t mean to do it—you're just too soft inside. Too tempting. And when you shift a little, trying to get comfortable?

He snaps.

His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you up to face him. His hips buck into you once, hard and sudden.

You gasp.

"I was being patient," he says, low and dangerous, "but you clearly want more."

He lifts you, pins you to the couch, and starts thrusting deep, each movement pushing a broken moan from your throat.

"This isn't cockwarming anymore. This is you—" he groans, slamming in, "—being a brat and begging to be bred."

He thinks it’s a joke at first. Cockwarming? You, on top of him, not bouncing like a needy little bunny? He snorts.

SATORU GOJO

"You're not gonna last five minutes, babe," he smirks.

But you try. You try to stay still. His cock’s buried deep inside you as you sit straddling him, naked and flushed, refusing to move.

But Satoru? He knows your tells.

The way your breath hitches. The way your thighs tremble the slightest bit. The soft, pathetic whimper when his cock twitches inside you.

"Aw. Look at you. Clenching like you’re already cumming."

His hands go to your hips. You protest. “No moving—!”

But he grabs your ass and grinds you down against him, slow and delicious. Your moan breaks in the air.

"Mmm, what’s that? I thought we were being good?"

Then he grips your hips and starts bouncing you on his cock himself, chuckling low.

"Too late. You're gonna take it all now, sweetheart."

It was meant to be a form of closeness. You’d already made love earlier. Now he was softening, slipping back in, letting you fall asleep connected.

SUGURU GETO

And then you started rolling your hips.

He warned you once. “Stop teasing.”

You smiled in the dark. "I’m not teasing… I’m just getting comfortable."

But every shift of your hips dragged his cock through your tight walls. It stiffened again—hard, heavy, hungry.

He flips you over in an instant, dragging you onto your stomach, and pushes in deep.

“No more games.”

You whine beneath him, hands fisting the sheets, but he’s not stopping now.

"You wanted to keep me warm? Then keep me."

He begins to thrust, deep and grinding, hands gripping your wrists, your legs shaking.

"And don’t you dare cum until I say so."

He laughs when you ask to cockwarm.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

"You? Stay still with my cock in you? You’re already dripping, doll."

But he lets you. You’re on his lap, stuffed full, his cock stretching your walls, his hand casually holding the remote while watching TV.

And for a while, it’s fine. Until your cunt starts twitching around him.

"Uh huh," he chuckles, tossing the remote. "Knew it. Knew that bratty little hole couldn't behave."

He grabs your throat and slams up into you, one hand on your waist, his hips pistoning with brutal force.

"You thought you were in control? That I’d just sit there and let that greedy pussy milk me?"

Your voice is gone—just squeaks and gasps as he uses you, fucking up into you like a beast unleashed.

"You wanna cockwarm? Fine. I’ll keep it in you all night. While I fuck you raw."

You ask shyly. He nods.

CHOSO KAMO

He's soft at first, just holding you while you're curled up, his cock snug inside you, buried to the hilt, his arms around your waist.

It’s peaceful.

But you make a sound in your throat—something breathless. Your walls flutter.

He pulls back slightly. Looks into your eyes.

"You’re wetting my cock."

You stammer, try to deny it—but he’s already flipping you over onto your back, pushing your legs apart.

"I was trying to respect your request," he says, voice thick with need, "but your body… it’s begging."

He starts to fuck you slow, methodical. Every thrust makes you twitch. You’re grabbing at him now, begging for more or less—you don’t know which.

"You started this," he whispers, mouth brushing your jaw. "You woke me up."

Then he’s pounding into you, stuffing you so full you swear you’ll split apart.

You should’ve known better.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

Telling him you wanted to “just keep him warm” was like dangling raw meat in front of a starving beast.

He lets you straddle him, cock buried inside you, thick and hot and pulsing. You think you’re clever, even smug about it.

But the second your pussy tightens a little too sweetly, trying to adjust—his hand is around your throat.

"Do you think I’m some docile lover boy?" he growls, hips jerking up brutally, knocking the air out of you.

"Keep me warm, you said. Then fucking take it."

He doesn't let you off his lap. Doesn’t let you breathe. Just fucks up into you over and over, watching you unravel like the pretty little toy you are.

And when your voice breaks into sobs and your nails claw down his chest?

He grins.

"Don’t cry now, woman. This was your idea."

[kenntoria]

nanami being so deeply, stupidly in love with you that the idea of anyone else flirting with him just… doesn’t register. at all. like. it slides off him like rain on glass.

he’s polite. that’s the problem.

he says thank you when the barista calls him handsome and slips him her number on the receipt. he holds the elevator door open when your neighbor bats her lashes at him in a low-cut top. he helps shoko carry boxes to her office while she teases him, like she always does, calling him “kento-chan” and sighing about how she’s so lonely lately, just to see that oblivious look on his face.

and he doesn’t notice. not really.

he comes home with the receipt tucked into his wallet and forgets it’s there. the woman in the elevator? he tells you she seemed cold, so he let her go in first. shoko? he mentions she’s been working late lately and asks if you think she’s doing okay.

you’re the only one he hears.

you lean in close, your fingers hooking into his belt loops as you murmur, “hey, handsome.”

and he flushes to his ears, already succumbing to the insistent pull of your hands and voice, “don’t start.”

you tell him his tie looks good on him, all smug, knowing he’s going to wear it again tomorrow.

“it’s just a tie,” he says, but you catch the small smile he hides behind his coffee mug.

you touch his chest and call him yours and he stares at you like you’ve parted the sea.

like he still doesn’t quite believe it.

like the sun is caught between your teeth and he’s never wanted anything more than to be kissed by you.

“you really don’t notice when people flirt with you, huh?” you tease, one evening, while he’s folding laundry and humming under his breath.

he blinks. “people flirt with me?”

you laugh. you laugh so hard you cry.

and nanami—sweet, serious, impossibly earnest—just watches you with that soft, lovesick look on his face.

“well,” he says, brushing your hair back from your forehead, “i wouldn’t know. i only ever look at you.”

[satoruined]

toji almost getting out-fucked by his girl | 18+

now he’s the one struggling. fuck.

toji grits his teeth in frustration and mild awe. one of his hands rise to grip your nape, pulling you down to his chest as if he needs the leverage. your thighs tremble where they straddle his hips, walls clenching in those slick, fluttering spasms that spell another orgasm. and still—still—you’re laughing. crazy brat.

“that what it feels like? being old?” you jeer. his nostrils flare. he’s lasted longer than most men stay conscious, but you? still bouncing up and down on his dick like your pussy’s hellbent on draining every drop. and it’s working—thighs gone numb, balls tight with the threat of release. close. he knows it. so do you.

“fuckin’—little brat,” toji growls, throat raw. “been tryin’a make me tap out?”

your voice, sugar-sweet and soaked in malice.

“wasn’t trying. almost did.”

that’s when toji snaps. he drives his heels into the mattress and thrusts up with so much force it wrenches a squeal from your throat—then manhandles you onto your back in one brutal sweep. pins both your wrists above your head and starts fucking you in earnest. your body gives out before your pride does. another orgasm rips through you, walls seizing around him so tight it makes his vision go white for a second. toji finishes with a snarl, cock buried to the hilt, stays there. twitching away the residual spasms. catching his breath.

only once he’s sure you’re out cold does he ease back. slow withdrawal. cum drips thick down your thighs. he watches it for a beat, then cracks his neck, wipes the sweat off his brow.

even on the verge of death, toji fushiguro would rather bite off his tongue than admit he almost got out-fucked by his girl.

[nejiverse]

me when satoru calls reader wifey

me when toji calls reader ma

me when suguru calls reader pretty girl

me when toji calls reader doll

me when sukuna calls reader woman

[satoruslovey]

*ੈ✩˚Sukuna×wife!reader ₊˚⊹ᰔ

In which boredom leads Sukuna's pretty little wife to try on his robes from his closet, and him to the edge of his control.

The estate was quiet.

Too quiet.

You’d already re-arranged the flowers in the receiving room (twice), skimmed through the ancient book of curses that made your eyes hurt, and sat in the garden watching koi fish for a good half hour.

Still bored.

Sukuna had been gone all day ,“important cursed business,” whatever that meant and left you with no entertainment aside from your own thoughts and the absurd amount of wealth lying around, untouched.

Which is how you found yourself in his private chambers.

Specifically, in his closet.

You had no business being there. It was lined with high shelves, dark wood, and rows upon rows of luxurious robes ,some ceremonial, others clearly meant for war, and a few that were almost sinfully soft. You ran your fingers along the fabrics,heavy silks, delicate embroidery, threads that shimmered like blood in sunlight.

“Just one,” you whispered to yourself, glancing back toward the door like a guilty child.

You reached for one that caught the light, black, with gold-lined patterns that looked like twisted flames, and a high collar that screamed power. It was obviously made to be worn during some grand audience, the kind where people knelt before him.

And yet now, you were the one slipping it over your shoulders.

It hung off your frame like velvet water, the sleeves far too long, the hem dragging across the floor behind you. You turned toward the mirror with a giggle, twirling once, then lifting your arms dramatically like a cursed emperor addressing her imaginary subjects.

You tried to mimic his voice, low and smug and said

“Bow, fools. Your king has arrived… and she’s prettier.”

Another giggle escaped you. You were halfway through a little twirl when you felt it.

A presence.

Familiar. Dangerous. Warm.

You froze.

There, leaning casually against the doorframe with arms crossed over his bare chest and a smirk curving the corner of his lips, stood Ryomen Sukuna.

You swallowed, hard.

“I—"

“I can explain—”

“It was just lying there and—”

He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t say a word. Just watched you,amused, silent, and… something else. Something hungry.

His eyes trailed down your figure, the way the oversized robe swallowed you whole, the sleeves covering your hands, your bare legs peeking out beneath the hem.

You tugged the silk tighter around you in a sudden fit of shyness, ducking your head, cheeks glowing red.

“You weren’t supposed to be back yet.”

Sukuna’s smirk widened, predatory and affectionate all at once. “Clearly.”

He pushed off the frame and stepped inside, slow and deliberate. The heavy silence of the room pulsed around you like a heartbeat.

“You rifled through my closet, played dress up,” he drawled, circling you now like you were prey he intended to devour slowly, “and stood here pretending to be me?”

You felt your skin heat up even more, and avoided his gaze. “I got bored…”

“Mm.” He stopped behind you, so close you could feel the heat of him at your back. His fingers brushed against your waist, pulling lightly at the robe. “You picked this one. Do you know what it’s for?”

You shook your head.

“It’s what I wear when I accept offerings,” he said, voice low against your ear. “Blood. Power. Submission.”

You went still.

He leaned down slightly, lips ghosting the curve of your neck, then whispered,

“Should I kneel for you, little wife?”

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening in the fabric.

You turned around to face him slowly, the oversized collar slipping off one shoulder. His eyes immediately dropped there, narrowing like he could eat you whole.

“...You’re making fun of me,” you mumbled.

Sukuna raised a brow. “Am I?”

You pouted, turning halfway away again, suddenly shy. “You just like seeing me flustered.”

He chuckled,low and warm and indulgent. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his chest.

“I like seeing you in my things,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear now. “My silks. My colors. My scent all over you.”

You melted a little into his touch, head tilting as he nosed into your hair.

“I might have more made,” he added. “Smaller. In your size. You looked too perfect to scold.”

You blinked. “You were going to scold me?”

“I was, yes,” he said, mock stern. “But then you twirled. And said you were prettier.”

You turned your head with a shy smile. “Was I wrong?”

Sukuna grinned and said,

“No,You never are."

note: had this in mind for quite a while

[snail-day]

The JJK movie really got me thinking… if Suguru got a girlfriend before Satoru, that blue-eyed freak would throw the biggest tantrum, full meltdown, sulking in the corner, arms crossed, muttering about how unfair it is.

Because how dare Suguru not share?

Seriously, it’s just plain mean to have you hanging off his arm, giggling in his lap, all cute just for him, while poor Satoru doesn’t even get a taste?

Satoru shares really well! He’s great at sharing! He’d be so good in a throuple!

He’s even offering to pay for all the dates! Suguru wouldn’t have to lift a finger, just let him kiss you a little, maybe hold your hand, maybe steal you for the night (or three). Is that so unreasonable?

He’s pouting now, bottom lip stuck out as he stares across the living room like a neglected pup stuck in a kennel.

“C’mon, Suguruuu,” he whines, already crawling across the floor into your lap with his face buried into your tummy. “I’d treat her so good too. We could both have her. Please? Pretty please?”

And this all doesn't phase Suguru, because why should he share? You're not some toy for them to fight over. So, instead, he just sits there, calm as ever, a slow smirk curling at the corners of his mouth as Satoru whines into your lap like a dog in heat. His arm wraps around your waist possessively, thumb dragging idle, lazy circles over the curve of your hip.

“You want a taste?” Suguru hums, eyes gleaming with full smugness down at him. “You can lick the plate when I’m done.”

Satoru pulls back like he’s been slapped, gasping so dramatically it’s almost comical, mouth parted, eyes wide, lashes fluttering as he fights for the right words. His whole body stiffens as he stares at Suguru, slack-jawed and borderline feral.

“You’re such a bitch!” he blurts, voice cracking halfway through.

Suguru doesn’t even flinch, just ignores the yapping pup, brushing your hair behind your ear with the same tenderness as always. “Language,” he chides, all faux-polite as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

He doesn’t even glance Satoru’s way when the bedroom door slams shut hard enough to rattle the frames on the wall.

[lovegasmic]

“close the curtains, woman” sukuna, with that rough tone and annoyed grunt as he turns in bed to shield the little light that comes from the window, it’s raining, drops pattering against the crystal where you stand in front of with a little pout.

you sigh, still looking outside, “we were going out today...” a promised date from your boyfriend was unusual and so, deeply treasured, but sadly today, those plans got ruined, “it’s not fair, the weather forecast said it will be sunny”

back in bed, Sukuna groans, pulling the sheets above his head, “come here”

you ignore it, or simply did not listen through your own sulking, “we were going to grab coffee...”

“come here, woman, damnit”

“and walk down the park...”

in less than a minute, he stands, grabbing you by the hips to toss you back in bed, wrapping you like a burrito with the covers and he’s hugging you hard, eyes closed and a leg tossed over yours, “shut up, we can do that tomorrow, now stay here until the rain stops” and okay, fair enough, he promised it after all, so tomorrow there is no way out of it.

[madamechrissy]

Veiled Secrets

art is by @3-aem they're insanely talented 🥹

pairings- emperor! gojo x arranged empress! reader

summary -you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do with all of that, he doesn't even come to your first meeting - rude! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts, but it turns out he doesn't know that you're not happy to be here either. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is?

contents/warnings - Historically INNACURATE asf, heavy angst, depression, enemies to lovers, longing, mutual pining, explicit smut, back and forth games, court tactics, Satoru being a hoe, reader missing her lover Suguru, a fuck ton of drama and games, he falls first and he falls hard. This chap - light angst, some fluff, Gojo getting character development, Lola being a bitch, jealousy, Satoru falling hard, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, anal play, multiple orgasms, creampie, a lil breed kink, some more angst, lots of feelings WC- 13.2k- it's a long one

<<<part two - playlist - part four (soon)

Part Three

“Oh Satoru, come here!” Lola is crooking her finger that afternoon, after having lifted her silk robes up, showcasing a little trail of sugar she’s sprinkled on her thigh for him. “Don’t you like sweets?”

He chuckles a bit, but he hesitates, and it truly makes no sense for him to do so, to halt before enjoying his favorite girl. Or… she was… no, she surely is, it’s not as if you even can stand him, especially after he yanked your lover’s necklace off you. It still sits there on his nightstand, broken, just like whatever moment the two of you had right before it.

You asked him to put it in, to take you - not just take you either, to take your innocence, lost in his touch, he could feel how you reacted, the way you arched for him, the noises you made. Yet he could not do anything, not with that man’s letters on your neck, infuriating him when he realized just how in love you clearly were with him, made true by your reaction.

The hurt in your eyes haunted him all night, yet he decided to add fuel to the proverbial fucking fire, and give you the Gojo family jewelry. He knew what it would do, but he wants you to himself, he wants and needs to claim you. Your heart is spoken for - whereas his has never been, and he can’t compartmentalize how that truly makes him feel, or figure out why.

Why does he find no interest in her anymore? Hard and throbbing from you, twice now, he’s not sought out anyone, and even now, he can’t picture licking her like he usually enjoyed to do. How, when you taste just that certain way, when your eyes roll back and your lips part, when your back arches up and he feels you quivering, your limbs trembling for him?

You eclipse everything, and it’s infuriating.

“Satoru, come here,” Lola giggles as she grabs his attention again. Satoru realizes that he’s just sitting there, lost. He chuckles good naturedly - it’s fake - then walks over to her, dropping onto one knee, his fingers brushing across smooth skin. “It’s the sweetest sugar.”

“Mmm, I bet it is,” he leans down, tongue lapping at the white powder now, he feels her heat even from mid thigh, burning against his hand. There was a time just a week ago he’d be hard from that, but he feels no effect aside from tasting sweetness on his tongue. “It is sweet.”

“Right, we can put some here,” she sprinkles more, and he chuckles, licking her skin up higher, pausing then when he hits the apex of her hip, sighing. She whines out, her head falling back, thighs spread eagerly, but he does not go forward. “Should I sprinkle it everywhere?”

“I fear I do not want to fill up for dinner,” he murmurs, earning a confused look from her now. “I must say hi to the other girls too.”

“No, I thought I was your favorite,” she tugs at his silky gold robes now, pouting all pretty, until he’s between her thighs. “Maybe I should lick some off you, would you enjoy that, Satoru?”

“I…” Is he about to turn down a fucking blowjob too? Not like it works currently, not even when she bounces her tits right out, and he brushes a pert nipple with his thumb. “I fear that I have much to do.”

“This week of spending all this time with her is torture,” she’s kissing him, and usually when Satoru kisses, he does get hard, he loves kissing, but it’s doing fucking nothing. “What’s going on?”

“I’m stressed, I suppose, there are many things on my mind.”

“I think you should put a baby in me.” She says with a giggle, reminding him of his very duty as emperor, one he’s evaded successfully so far.

But how could he do anything with her, when he doesn’t even find anyone fucking attractive all because of you. If he sat there and really contemplated it, that fact is terrifying, the fact that he keeps making you hate him more and more, when you’re fast becoming all his thoughts, swirling and maddening.

Part of him wants to fix it, part of him wants to destroy it, self loathing and complete masochism, hurt himself with you hating him more and more. Could it ease the hurt that you love someone else? Could it somehow fix him from whatever spell you’ve cast - like some witch or siren with your eyes, with your sounds, with whatever energy you had.

He got hard getting beat by you at chess, but nothing with bouncy tits in his face, was this the true fall of Emperor Gojo?

“Ahem,” he hears it then, his mother, while he’s in a compromising position. Even though he’s well within his rights, he knows his mother’s opinions on this, so he pulls back to Lola’s displeasure. “Why are you here, and not with your bride, hmm?”

“Mama…”

“Don’t you Mama me,” she taps her foot, crossing her arms while Satoru pulls back and stands. “You know you have to at least spend some time with her?”

“Yes, I know,” he says goodbye quickly, Satoru’s mother looks at Lola with distaste - considering Lola’s mother was the sister of Satoru’s dad’s favorite concubine, he supposes it’s a reason she doesn’t like her. “Sorry mama.”

“Hmm,” She glares icy blue eyes at him, while Lola rushes out of the drawing room. “I hate to say this, but rumors abound.”

“Rumors of what?” He asks, raising a brow.

“You know what, Satoru. Not consummating your marriage for one, also touching your wife in front of the help!? Like she’s some common girl? Do you know the disrespect you’ve shown her!?”

“Shit,” he slumps in his seat. His mother had no problem taking anyone the fuck down, she often scared all the men at court - his dad included. “It wasn’t like that.”

“No? I heard her ladies whispering, I saw your wife crying this morning. Care to explain how you’re here with another woman rather than trying to make sure she’s taken care of?”

He raises a brow now, scoffing. “Seriously, I’m the emperor, you know how this goes.”

“Your father gave me at least a few months before he ran off, and he never displayed things publicly. Kissing those girls in the halls!?”

He curses, when she comes up to him, furious now. “It’s not…”

“No,” she cuts him off now. “You’re making the Gojo family name look bad. And for all your father’s faults, he never conducted himself this way.”

He looks down, nothing made him feel more ashamed than his mother’s disappointment, considering she’s the only one who felt pride or love for him - his father was cold, distant. He sees her own hurt in her eyes, as if he’s unlocking painful memories for her, ones he barely remembers as a young boy.

“An emperor does indeed have concubines, but he respects his wife, at least publicly, he does not make her a spectacle. I’m so disappointed.”

“Shit, I didn’t… it wasn’t my intention to embarrass her.” It truly wasn’t, he just desired to touch you, and couldn’t hold back.

“No? But it was to make her cry?” He can’t stand to look into her eyes, when she’s right, the hurt on your face is burned in his brain. “Answer me.”

“Yes, I wanted to hurt her,” he admits softly, her brows raise, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck at her scrutiny. “You don’t understand, she’s in love with someone else.”

“And you have women all over. I just found you between Lola’s thighs.”

“We didn’t… I wasn’t…”

“Let her have her feelings for a first love, there’s enough we sacrifice. I didn’t raise you to be cruel, not at all, even as your father tried to do so,” she sniffles, and Satoru looks up at the ceiling, the intricate patterns - studying them as he now  swallows the guilt.

“I do not mean to be cruel.”

“Perhaps not. But remember, she’s bound to you and all alone - god everyone is mean to that girl just existing. No friends, no family, I assure you it is a lonely existence. I went through it.”

“But everyone loved you, dad even.” He mumbles, Kiyotaka walks in now, pouring his sake in the little ceramic cup. “I didn’t intend to hurt her, I just got very upset at it.”

“Why do you care if she loves someone?” Her words hit too close, as always. Satoru sighs again, shaking his head, sipping the drink with his lips to the cup, letting the warmth burn down his throat. 

“You expect me to let her frolic around with her lover’s necklace, mother?”

“Now I’m ‘mother’ hmm?” He sighs, and she pours herself a little glass of sake, he never sees her drink, it surprises him as she swallows it down. “You’re driving me to drink now.”

“I didn’t realize you’re such a fan of hers. She’s a mean little thing.”

“Well I do like her, and I don’t find her mean - perhaps it’s her reacting to you.” He hates when she’s right, when she wipes her lips and then leans over, putting a hand over his on the table. “You’re a good person, Toru.”

“The old nickname huh?” He smiles a bit though, holding her hand for a moment, she still wears his dad’s wedding band. “She infuriates me, constantly, like nothing I’ve ever encountered. She doesn’t like me, or have any interest.”

She pulls back now, frowning. “Why would she, she’s been forced into this.”

“And I don’t want that,” she nods a bit. “I didn’t want them to drag her away from her knight anymore than she did, I’m sure.”

“But she’s here now. You have everything at your fingertips, but all she’ll have will be any children you bear. That’s what we wives get, not even the joy of being a favored concubine, do you have to make it worse for her?” He pours another glass, swallowing the rice wine down far too quickly.

“Are you done with your wicked tongue lashings?”

“No, not until you at least try, all the servants and people are talking, I need you to make an effort - and licking Lola’s thigh isn’t helping.”

“Would it make it any better if I didn’t feel like doing it?” She blinks a bit in surprise, his cheeks flush as he admits it.

“You still chose to come here rather than check on her, so no. Perhaps you should let her know where your interests lie,” she stands then, brushing back his hair affectionately. “I am sorry to come across this harshly with you.”

“No you’re not.” She smiles now, his mother really is evil, no wonder she likes you so much.

Evil loves evil.

“Make an effort, take her on a walk today, talk to her, you may be surprised by what you find.” She leaves him now, letting him contemplate her words carefully, he knows they’re all glaringly obvious.

“You agree, don’t you Kiyotaka?” His right hand man sighs, shutting the door now. “You may speak on it.”

“The display last night was inappropriate, it’s one thing I suppose with the concubines, but she is your empress,” his words are soft spoken and careful, as if he’s terrified to face Satoru’s wrath. “I understand the excitement, but for her it must have been quite embarrassing.”

“I see,” he traces his finger along the ceramic rim of the little glass, picturing you in his mind. “She hates me.”

“Have you given her a reason not to?”

“No more speaking freely.” He glares at him now, and he pushes up his monocle a bit, bowing.

“Yes, your majesty, anything else you require?” He asks this while still bowing, not looking at Satoru at all, eyes lowered.

“Yes, if you could ask the empress if she would like to walk with me along the gardens, she may say yes if you do.” Kiyotaka bows again, but Satoru sees his little smile before he turns away.

He’s sure the girls will be just a little upset he doesn’t visit, and he’s sure you’ll be fucking furious and turn down his offer, he doesn’t care about the first part - but his mother’s words are echoing in his ears. He’s so infuriated and jealous that he’s let it make him truly cruel to you - part of him really wants to mend it, but there’s still a part that would love to fuck every thought of the knight from your brain.

*****

“Tell him to fuck himself,” Kiyotaka sighs then, and you sigh yourself, shaking your head as the poor man is doing his job. “You can’t tell him that, I know.”

“Perhaps it’s worth meeting him? He…”

“He what?” You touch your bare neck, heart hammering in your chest, so much so you feel sick. “Wants to torture me more than just dinner now?”

“He seems to want to try-”

“He just wants to taunt me, fuck with me. If he would just do his duty then leave me to rot away.” You slump down on your bed, Kiyotaka awkwardly shifts a bit, you catch his eye. “Sorry, that was too much information.”

“It’s already… known…” You sit up, he still stands awkwardly by the door, as if fucking terrified to come in further than the entrance to your room.

“I see, rumors spread fast,” he just nods a bit. “Well, you saw more than enough of me, hmm?”

“My lady,” he’s a blushing mess, looking away. “I did not look, I promise.”

“I am sure you did not, but what even was that display? Why would I even bother to see him?”

“Shall I tell him no?” Kiyotaka frowns a bit, you instantly feel horrible.

“No, I shall meet him, I do not want him to be mean to you.”

“He’s not mean…” You blink at him. “He’s just… difficult.”

“A dick.” Kiyotaka snorts, then covers his mouth, head hanging in shame. “I like you, you know.”

“I think you’ll like him too if you give it a chance,” you scoff now, shaking your head. “I’m sorry about your necklace.”

“You know about it?” He nods, frowning now. “Does he confide in you?”

“He does, we are quite close.”

“Well, I hate him, but I’ll be nice just for you,” you stand up, patting him on the shoulder, he takes your hand then, kissing it with a little pop of his lips.

“Thank you, I’ll bring you to him?” You nod, resigned to the fact that you like Kiyotaka enough to go near the stupid emperor.

Your eyes catch the glinting blue necklace, the one you’re to wear tonight - the one you threw across the room this morning, almost shattered it to pieces, before sobbing, trying to pull yourself together. This morning was even harder than last night, the longing, the desire to just have him back in your life again, you’re so delusional you dreamt of him saving you.

You follow Kiyotaka, hands in front of you, Lola sees you and scowls outright, rather than her usual smirk or fake smile. You haven’t done shit to the girl, and to be honest you don’t understand her insolence - aside from the showing at chess where you asked her to compose herself. She bumps into your shoulder then, while you’re walking through the spacious breezeways outside.

“Excuse me!” She feigns innocence, you’re rubbing your shoulder, and her ladies are giggling behind their fans. “The empress, how dare I!?”

“Miss,” Kiyotaka stares at her now, and she laughs with her girls, stepping close to you, adjusting your sleeve just a bit. “Leave the empress alone.”

“Oh, you have an admirer!” She’s giggling again, touching your cheek, and you itch to smack the fuck out of her, hand trembling. “Certainly not your husband.”

“What is your issue!? You can have him whenever you wish, I haven’t asked him to stay away? I simply asked it not in public.” She blinks then, frowning a bit at your hushed whisper, before she scowls again.

“You’re lying.”

“Me, what do I have to lie about? Especially to a common little bitch like you,” Lola gasps, as do her ladies, before she raises her hand as if to smack you, only for a hand to grip her wrist. You exhale, heart pounding in your chest, expecting to see Kiyotaka, but he’s gently touching your shoulder instead, making you look in confusion at who is gripping her.

Satoru?

“My lady are you all right?” He asks carefully, while you still stare in shock at Gojo, who’s got Lola panicking now, scowling down at her.

“The fuck is that, you mean to put your hands on your empress?” He demands softly, people start to gather, and Lola starts crying now, everyone is murmuring across the courtyard.

“She called me a bitch!” She hisses through her teeth, he scoffs, shaking his head now, and you fully expect him to cuss you out, to take her side, tensing for the inevitable blow.

“If she did, you should just walk away, you have no right to ever raise a fucking hand to her, get out of my sight while I decide just what to fucking do with you.” She gasps, as does everyone around them in ear shot, you’re frozen, looking up at him, trembling.

“Satoru don’t-”

“Get out.” He whispers again, letting her go to run off now, her ladies following her, a trail of glittery tears falling behind her. He turns, the light catching his face just so, bright and beautiful light against his perfect skin, his eyes swirling storms when he holds out his hand, as if to touch you, then thinks better of it. “Are you all right?”

“I am…” You should still hate him, one kind gesture can’t mean anything… but you don’t have it in you not to acknowledge he did the right thing. “Um, thank you, your majesty.”

You’re bowing a bit, Satoru’s still flushed and raging at what happened, at the fact that he almost killed his former favorite girl for trying to hit you. His pulse is racing in his ears as he studies you, you stand up from where you’ve bowed, looking under your lashes, and for once Satoru doesn’t see hatred or disgust. It’s not affection, but it is some sort of softness he senses.

You’re even more breathtaking like this, the way your lips sit apart, the way your lashes lower just so, how the sunlight dances along your hair. His pin is prominent, right next to another one, earrings dangling gently from your ears, he aches to just caress the cheek Lola almost smacked, a longing filling him that he’s never known.

He’s known what it is to desire - but this feels like more.

You seem fragile to him now, so delicate compared to this palace, the grounds, everyone around all of you, swirling and whispering, all the eyes are on you. His mother’s words make more and more sense - that you’re alone, you are all alone, just standing there, getting treated so terribly - and for what? What did you do to deserve anything?

And he’d been the worst to you, taken away the thing that comforts you in a fit of selfish rage. He doesn’t know what he thinks of himself right now, to see the glaringly apparent way he’s let the concubines carry on, laughing and being dismissive of anyone saying he let them have too much freedom at court. But now, he feels it, the sense of loneliness surrounding you.

“No need to thank me, I will be sure she’s dealt with,” his voice is dark then, a tone you’ve never heard. He takes your hand now, setting it in the crook of his arm, gesturing his head. “Shall we walk?”

“Yes.” Your answer surprises him, but he hastily jumps on the chance to be closer to you.

It’s beautiful today, the warmth in the air has just the perfect breeze, there are cherry blossom trees swaying on the trail to the gardens, in full bloom, overhanging and entwining branches. It’s quiet, just you two now walking underneath the shade they provide, while he lets you have that quiet. He’s not got that conceited look on his face, like he usually does, there’s just something… different.

You pause at a particular tree, far overgrown, blooming little blossoms everywhere, you touch the petals gently, pausing now. He lets go of your hand, his fingers slipping gently down your arm, and for once you don’t want to completely shove him away, though the anxiety is still brimming.

“Why are you being nice?” You ask now, avoiding his gaze, a petal falls on your hair, he leans forward, blowing it off the strands gently, your tummy does this annoying flip at his proximity. “Is it some ploy, some game to hurt me more?”

“No, I just wanted to…” He doesn’t even know what to say, when your gaze locks on his now.

“Did you destroy it, my necklace?” Your lip trembles, eyes glassy with emotions - making your voice shaky.

“No, I didn’t destroy it, but I wanted to.” He admits softly, you scoff now, crossing your arms under your breasts and looking away. “You know you shouldn’t wear it.”

“Yes, I knew that, but it was all that was keeping me connected almost,” you trail off, emotions hitting harder at the memory of last night - mixed with embarrassment at how wet you’d been, how ready. “You had no right to take it.”

“I had every right to take it, as your husband.”

“Not like you’re doing any of those duties,” you whisper, he laughs without humor then, stepping close to you, leaning low. “What, gonna taunt me, only to run off?”

“You want my cock inside you that bad?” You scowl, shoving him then, he takes your shoulders tightly, burning you with his hands over the satin.

“Here I thought you could be not a complete dick for a moment!”

“Me!? I’m trying here, and you instead wish to run your mouth on and on, maybe I should find better use for it?”

“You won’t, unless it’s such a public display of power - oh, the almighty emperor gojo, look at him!” You’re mocking, putting a hand to your head dramatically, when he drags you against him. “What, going to kiss me then walk away? Go off to your other girls, since it seems you’re just a teensy bit displeased by her?”

“You’re such a-”

“If you call me it again-” He cuts you off with a kiss, and you hate yourself for falling into it for a moment, for feeling the plush of his lips on yours, before breaking away, gasping. “Do not kiss me.”

“Thought you wanted me to perform all of my duties, hmm?” He whispers, taunting you then, you flush at his insinuation, shaking your head. “No, didn’t ask me to put it in- right on the dining table, for your first time?”

“Fuck you!” He kisses you once more, and you bite his lower lip, earning a little groan of satisfaction, he pulls back, the lip beading with crimson, but instead of anger, the little fucker seems more excited!?

“I didn’t do it because I won’t take you the first time on a table, also because you were thinking of him.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him! You’re so fucking stupid!” You shove at him until he’s off you, tears threatening again, when the words spill from your lips almost - you wish you had thought of Suguru then, but your mind had been filled with Satoru.

“You weren’t?”

“No, you brought it all up, remember? Do you think of them when you’re kissing along my neck,” you trail off, voice a whisper when you lean forward, watching the pink dance on his cheeks. “When your fingers are inside of me, do you compare?”

“No,” his answer surprises you in its seriousness, his fingers brushing along your cheek gently, making you gasp. “I don’t think of them.”

It’s silent now, you’re too close to him, his lip is smeared red, you swipe at it with your thumb. “I made you bleed.”

“You did, you’re a vicious little thing,” you let out a quiet snort at that, softening again, the blood now sitting on your thumb. “I did not turn you down because I’m uninterested, not at all.”

“It’s our duty, it’s damn near what I’m here for,” you’re slightly dejected as you speak. “Rumors are everywhere, that we don’t share a bedchamber.”

“So should we, tonight? Will he be there?”

“That’s just cruel. Will they be there? Or just the other three?”

“You think I have seen-”

“I know you have, I heard you were licking up Lola’s thighs from Miwa gossiping to Lola’s ladies,” he pauses, heart sinking now. “There’s no need to pretend about it, it’s just par for the course of being with you. But I’d ask you to at least refrain from making comments over someone I’ll never even see again.”

Tears fall down your cheeks, delicate and fragile again despite all of the contrary - he feels nauseous thinking of it, of what he’s done, but he’s still torn on how to fix it between you. “I did not want to do anything with Lola earlier, it’s why she acted like such a fucking fool and tried to hit you.”

“You… what?” Your brows knit together in confusion, Satoru sighs, his hand slipping across your cheeks again.

“I turned her down.” You blink a few times, like his words won’t register.

“Why did you?” He doesn’t know how to answer it, how to say it’s because he doesn’t desire anything but the girl he’s actively pushing away, the one crying right in front of him.

“Because I didn’t want her,” his words are soft, you let them sink in, unsure of how they make you feel. “I don’t fucking want any of them.”

“It’s a game, or-”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off with a touch of his fingers, you hate that you believe him, that there’s no reason for him to say it. He can do anything he wants, he has all this power, and you realize then he’s telling the truth. “She was mad at you because she thinks you’re demanding me to stay away, because I don’t want anything.”

“Oh.” It’s all you manage, you’re too close to him, you’re too conflicted, your mind racing with all the reasons to hate him, but your heart wonders if there’s more.

You hate it.

“Can we just try to be with each other - no concubines, no knights, just for the ceremonial week at least. Try and see if you don’t completely hate me by the end of it, and if so I’ll try to keep my distance.”

“You’re off to a terrible start, I absolutely hate you,” you whisper, even as he slips his fingers across the salty tears, gentle on your skin. But you remember, the way he made sure you were not hurt, and you can't help but give a resigned little sigh. “You defending me did not go unnoticed however.”

His breath catches, just the faint glimmer of hope that there may be a chance for any of your affection, no matter how small. He’s never cared before, to have it - it was always given to him, but this is so much more. “What she did was worthy of her being banished.”

“You surely will not do all of that, perhaps let me smack her a few times?” He chuckles, and your lips twitch a bit, as you both realize you’re still too close.

“Will you wear the necklace at dinner?” He asks, tracing your collarbone, watching the goosebumps rise. “Wear it and nothing else in your chambers tonight for me?”

“I wish to burn that fucking necklace,” you whisper, he grins then. "Or slam a hammer over it until it's nothing but fragments.

“I wish to burn yours - perhaps we will find common ground.” Your glare makes him needier for you, he can’t stop himself, every expression you make does something to him. “Stop glaring, I won’t do it.”

“And I won’t wear it, not until I get mine back. But, I will go to dinner with you tonight… and we may… share a chamber.” The thoughts hit then, you wish they were unpleasant, and he notices, his glossy lips quirking up at the corners.

“Your blush is lovely, you know.” He taunts, you scoff, smacking at his hand that feels too good on your cheek.

“Shut it, I am just overheated by you, burning hot all the time. I can’t imagine how horrible you’ll be laying in bed.” You shove him again, hating his stupid grin now. “What are you smiling at!?”

“You’re just very pretty.” You blush more, walking past him now, when he grips your wrist, making you look back at him.

“What? I said I’ll go to dinner.”

“Please just wear it, I know I shouldn’t ask,” the way he feels so possessive over you, it’s too much, he reaches up to touch his pin, and you tense. “Is this his too?”

“Seriously, I’m trying to give you a chance here, Emperor,” you say it softly, you know what it does when you call him that. How he just aches for you to say Satoru. “Are you going to break it?”

“I’d love to,” he murmurs softly, touching it, so tall over you - too close, far too fucking close. “I’d love to tear every memory of him apart,” he whispers against your ear, hand now tugging at a tendril. “Have it all be me.”

“You’re a toxic, selfish man, you don’t know what you want, you just desire to be everyone’s favorite, don’t you?” You raise a brow, turning away again, just as he tugs your back against him, the breeze making the blossoms float along you two, your robes billowing gently.

He is terrible, he may not be as terrible as you thought, but alas he’s pressing his big hand on your tummy, burning you with his touch, you bite your lip to avoid making any noise. “I’ll let you keep it, as long as mine is there.”

You hate the reaction your body has to this man - is it just that, your body fucking betraying the memory of Suguru? “You’re so arrogant.”

“I am, hmm?” You ignore how good he feels against you, his lips pressing kisses too affectionately up your jawline. “If you be a good girl and wear it, I promise to make you feel very good, everywhere…”

You catch your breath for just a moment, before smacking at his hand, pulling back and scoffing, shaking your head. “You’re utterly conceited, I swear.”

“See you at dinner?” He’s asking the question as you’re stomping off, evading his very presence so that you can properly breathe without him around.

*****

You’re staring at those fucking jewels, hating them more and more with every passing fucking moment. You eye them, touching your bare neck and appraising yourself in the gold gilded looking glass, ostentatious as Satoru is himself. Back home, things were a little more simple, you certainly were alluded much luxury, but not at the extent of the pavilion you were in.

There is a gentle rap at the door, you open it now to see Satoru’s mother along with Miwa, smiling at you. “Oh! Dowager Empress…” You open the door wide and bow quickly.

“No need to be so formal, Miwa shut the door dear,” Miwa does just that, leaving you and Satoru’s mom alone. “I thought I could speak with you before you get dressed for dinner.”

“Oh, of course…” You sit down, fiddling with your hands.

“I’ve heard a lot about you and my son, recently.”

“I am so sorry-”

“No, I’m sorry, for everything you’ve been dealing with since you came here.” She takes your hands in hers, the letter folded and tucked into your palm, you stare right at the same pretty blue eyes as Satoru, her hands cool and soothing.

Something about the moment makes you tear up, your own mother was kind but never affectionate, and her presence is far too comforting. You find yourself easing just a bit as the two of you sit down in front of your vanity, she carefully touches the necklace sitting on the dresser.

“This was mine,” she murmurs softly, nostalgia hitting her pretty features. “I remember wearing it at the wedding, a gift from the former Emperor Gojo.”

“You should take it!”

She laughs a bit, gaze back on you, knowing and sparkling with humor. “When Toru asked to give it to you, I thought he intended on making up for being such a thickheaded fool.”

“Toru, you make him sound adorable, not the menace he is. Oh my god, forgive me please…” She laughs again, when you lower your head, tilting your chin up so that you sit up straight once more.

“It’s quite alright, I wanted to smack him truly,” you giggle a bit at that, before covering your mouth. “I talked to him this morning, I hope that he will get it together, but you also must at least try.”

You know she can’t possibly understand what Satoru’s done fully just yet, you don’t know how much she’s aware of. To be quite honest, for Satoru having an amazing mother, and a sweet and kind advisor, you’re not quite sure where the complete dick in him came from. Other than the man not here to make himself known anymore, and you’ve barely heard a peep about him.

“Being here is not easy, but in time I did grow to love my husband,” she continues, bringing your attention back to her. “But mostly I have my son, and that did truly make things here much more bearable.”

“I can see that you love him very much, but… do you think there really is happiness in our position?” You ask quietly, she sighs then, looking away.

“I don’t know that answer for me - as for Satoru, I do think he’s young and foolish, a spoiled little thing truly, but he would not necessarily go with tradition. If he fell in love I can’t see him being with someone, despite the way he’s acting. I don’t think he is that way.”

“Really?” She nods, you frown a bit then. “But love? I doubt that’s a feeling we will have. I’d take simply not wanting to kill each other.”

“Well, you never know.” She stands then, walking over to the dress laid on the bed, running her fingers across it. “Let’s get you dressed.”

She’s careful and respectful, something feels comfortable about her dressing you - a lady of high standing - but she has no issue. She’s tying your robe now, the sashes coming together in a delicate knot, pale blue satin and lace in a mix of the style from your home, and the current style here.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, looking at the sleeves, billowing out just so. “This can’t be in style here.”

“It’s not, but I had a few things altered for you,” she says with a smile. You blink back emotions then, something as small as a style from your home makes you just a bit wistful. “It’s all right to miss home.”

“I feel it makes it worse.” You blink back more tears, a couple slip when she sits you down, doing your hair up carefully.

“Wishing to go back is not going to help you, I tried that for far too long. But you can miss it and hold fond memories of it. There,” she slips Gojo’s pin now, smiling at your reflection. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you…” you’re blushing at the praise, when she picks up the necklace, and your heart sinks just a bit.

“If Satoru is trying, you could meet him half way and wear it. But also, I will not make you do so. You probably want to throw it at him.”

You laugh again, swiping away tears, for the first time since you’ve been here you feel a little understood. “I certainly want to.”

“I wouldn’t tell a soul if you did. It does look very beautiful.”

“Oh… for you I’ll wear it. But if he irritates me I can’t guarantee its condition upon return.” She shakes her head and just laughs a bit, slipping the heavy sapphire jewels across your neck, and it feels like you’re trapped almost, you’re hating every fucking moment of it, even as you keep on a front.

Suguru’s necklace should be there.

You know it was foolish, but it doesn’t feel right not to have it, to wear these extravagant, fancy jewels, when the little delicate gold chain was all you needed. It just meant more to you. You touch them now, plastering on a little smile so that Mrs. Gojo would be quite happy, she has been where you are and does indeed raise some points to think of.

You are stuck here, forever… and there was no going home, was longing for home going to do anything but hurt you? But how do you just let him go like that!? It feels disloyal, horrible, the inner turmoil written all over your face in the mirror.

“Honey…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t close yourself off, for the ghosts of the past, I promise it didn’t do me any good.” You nod now, realizing she must know more than she’s saying, Satoru must be close to her. You take a breath and look back at her, the delicate hand on your shoulder calming just like her. “Let’s go meet him for dinner.”

Miwa and Kiyotaka join you along with Satoru’s mother, and the gossip continues when you leave your pavilion to go to his for the entire evening. Looks and mentions of your dress - most seem rather positive, but you hear more, Gojo’s mother scowls at them as she walks by, and many shut up or run off.

“Can I have you around all the time?” You ask, she grins then.

“Eventually, they’ll come to fear you. I had to hit a few people.”

“My Lady!” Kiyotaka exclaims, Miwa gasps, Gojo’s mom just shrugs while you stare in awe of her.

“Well, people need a good smack. My son included.”

“I think I love her,” you murmur to Miwa.

“She is amazing.” She gushes, holding your hand and smiling, leaning up to whisper in your ear while Gojo’s mom and Kiyotaka walk ahead. “I did hear Lola has been confined to her home, guards all over, not allowed to leave, until Emperor Gojo decides her fate.”

“Really!?” You ask, surprise clear on your features, when you enter the main palace now. You expected him to somewhat discipline her - as was his right as an emperor, but you didn’t expect much, with the way he lets them frolic.

“Mmhmm, also… sent the letter.” Your heart races now.

The letter – fuck if it got into the wrong hands, Gojo could have you executed for such a fucking thing. He does not seem that type, truly, but you can’t imagine the fall out. “It’s secure, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Miwa.”

Was it a bad idea to have done it?

The thought of never seeing Suguru again eats at you, but in ways you are eager to see Satoru - and you don’t know why. He’s arrogant, conceited, and truly a man child. A whore. He’s been nothing but toxic, back and forth, and fucked your brain up with every encounter, over and over. Yet, you enjoyed chess, beating him and mocking him after.

You enjoyed last night before he ruined it all with his misplaced jealousy, and some fucked part of you got more turned on by his possessive talk. Even today, his words of ruining you had an effect that you sure would not ever tell him. You suppose it’s just being here, and the trapped nature, along with Satoru himself being so much to handle.

But you don’t want to get into actual feelings.

Your body is betraying your heart, your memory, and tonight you both will fully be intimate - if the man doesn’t fuck it all up again, of course. But where would that lead, the last thing you want is to form some feeling for this man to be hopelessly crushed when he carries on elsewhere. To have babies with these women, competitive mean spirited girls, how much would that hurt?

You’d love to believe his mom, but she just loves her child, it’s clear. You don’t think he’d give up all of that, even though his words today sunk in. That he didn’t want Lola, that he hasn’t wanted any of them, you want to not believe them at all, to protect yourself, from a man like the emperor, but a nagging part of you is ever more curious about him.

“The Empress is here to join you,” former Empress Gojo bows, and Satoru stands up, in the elegant banquet room, however this table is much smaller than the other one you dined at last night. It’s just a little table set for two, already plated, with drinks and little appetizers of all kinds. He stands and looks at you, his lips parted, gaze drinking you in slowly.

You look beautiful.

He’s known it since the night in the baths, but to see that necklace does not just shock and surprise him, it makes him more and more possessive in the most nonsensical ways. To see how it sits on your delicate collarbone, right above your breasts, that are pushed up tantalizingly in the gown you’re wearing, the lace something he hasn’t seen before, casting little shadows along your milky skin.

The lights lit above you both dance across your face, you bow right next to his mother, not looking up at him. He sees the way it hugs that body, one he’s dying to kiss every inch of, slowly and torturously tonight. He’s thought about it so much it’s drove him to insanity, his lip still stinging from that mean little bite of yours, he just can’t fuck this up again.

He notices you do not wear the Knight’s pin, just his, along with the very color blue all over you, including the pretty earrings he recognizes as his mothers. He smiles at her then, and she walks up to him, you murmur something to Kiyotaka, too fucking familiar and close for his liking. He almost says something when his mom is right in front of him.

“Yes, mother?”

“Mother again?”

“Mama, shh,” he whispers hushed. “You want her to hear me call you that!?”

“Yes, maybe she’ll like you more, foolish boy,” she tugs at his ear and he yelps now. “If you want her to forget back home, make this her home.”

He pauses at her quiet words, when you turn your attention to him, still rubbing his ear, nodding then. “What if I fuck it up?”

“Try to fix it.” She pats his cheek now, walking away but not before giving you a little hug, as if she already likes you more than her own son, and you smile when she does, so pretty it hurts him. “Miwa, Kiyotaka, let them have alone time.”

“Yes, your majesty!” They bow and run off after her, shutting the sliding doors and leaving you alone with Satoru now, he walks a couple steps towards you, and you walk a couple towards him.

It’s slow, and you feel awkward, he holds out a hand now, and you just stare at it. “Will you take it?”

“Do I have to?”

“We said we’d try.” You sigh, taking it now, little hand in his huge one that engulfs yours entirely, only for him to tug you against him, making you gasp, looking up.

“Emperor-”

“Can I be Satoru tonight?” You shake your head, closing your eyes then. To say his first name, when you’d only started calling Suguru his first name a couple months before you left, feels like a betrayal. Everything feels like one, living and breathing his air, his energy, wanting more of him. “Are you… crying?”

“Shit,” you realize you are, hastily swiping them off. “It’s not… you didn’t do anything, this time at least. Okay?”

He frowns now, stepping back, his hands on your shoulders where the gown hangs off, revealing much of your neckline. “I need your mind on me, and only me, for at least tonight.”

“And will you give me the same?” You ask, he nods then, cupping your face delicately.

“I want to get to know you, who I’m married to, and I don’t intend on seeing them during this week.”

It’s as good as you can hope for - but the lingering feeling continues.

“So… after?” He looks away for a moment. “It’s what you must do as an emperor, and all that bullshit?”

“Can we take it day by day? Currently you’re all that’s on my fucking mind, infuriating, driving me insane.” You look at him in shock at his husky declaration, his hands slipping up your neck now. “All I see is you. I just need you to focus on me tonight.”

You take a breath now, shutting your eyes for a moment, letting everything go. It’s hard, it’s brutal, but you do need to try, to have some comfort in a long, long existence - all of your existence - with him. “I still hate you.”

“I know,” he’s soft, tilting your chin up now. “You can hate me all you want, as long as it’s just me.”

“It’s just you, full hatred then,” he grins, and you roll your eyes. “Your audacity knows no limits.”

“You’re going to look so fucking sexy when I fuck you with just this on,” his words are insane, touching the necklace and lifting it from your skin, your heart is racing so quickly you feel dizzy. “Wonder how sturdy it is, I bet I could use it to choke your pretty neck.”

“You’re ridiculous!” You shove at him now, seeing his insane blue eyes light up. “Do you like me being mean!?”

“Maybe, it’s a new development.” He rubs his lip, and you sigh now, shaking your head at him.

“You are indeed a whore.”

“And you want to get fucked by me, so badly,” he’s leaning too close, hovering over your lips, smirking. “Look at that desire all over your pretty face. Ah- ah, I will call you pretty all I want tonight. But, you can choose if you want to kiss me or…”

“Or smack you?” You taunt, raising a brow, probably exciting this insane Emperor even more, he exhales and brushes a thumb along your lip.

“Or that,” you bite his thumb, he glares and shakes it out now. “Evil, no wonder mama loves you so much.”

Shit, you just heard him, the emperor say that!

You don’t mention it though, shrugging and grinning now. “I love her.”

“I noticed, here, sit down.” He gestures now to the pretty red velvet seat, you lift your skirts just a bit and settle next to him, he pops a little morsel in your mouth, watching you chew. “What do you… like?”

You chew thoughtfully, sipping on the proffered little glass of water. “You want to know?”

“It’s what we promised,” he murmurs. “To try to get to know each other.”

“Yes, um,” you’re shy – you – the girl who stripped naked and sucked him off like some pro. He loves it though, to watch this side of you, even as you hide it. “I love to dance.”

“You do?”

“I do, very much so. I also love horseriding, horses in general.” He smiles now, far too attractive to exist.

So pretty you could imagine that he’s sweet as he looks.

You curse your mind, your heart, for enjoying this so much. “I love horses too.”

“You do?” He nods.

“What else do you enjoy?”

“I love chess.”

“Obviously.” You can’t help but giggle.

“Yes, clearly,” you’re relishing in your victory still he sees. “Oh! I love croquet.”

His brows draw together. “Huh, what’s that?”

“You don’t have it here, I could show you. Gives me something else to thoroughly beat you at.” You poke at his chest, he raises a brow.

“Oh? You think you could beat me at a sport, that’s cute.” He taps your nose, making you smack at his hand.

“I sure would!”

“They probably let you because you’re a pretty little princess.” He taunts, loving the rise he gets out of you - fuck you’re pretty.

“Oh, like you did in chess?”

“Tch, off day,” your laughter irritates him just as much as it makes him want to kiss you, watching you for once smile in his presence rather than glare. “We will have a rematch, then you can teach me your game.”

“I will thrash you at it, just to watch your petulant pout,” you pop another bite in your mouth, smirking like a brat at him. “What do you like, Emperor, besides fucking women?”

He almost spits out his drink, brows lowering now. “Your mouth is filthy for a princess.”

“Yes well, I used to watch many fights in secret, I learned how you men speak. It’s quite fun, saying fuck, isn’t it?”

“You deserved more whippings as a child.”

“Says you!”

“I did get beat, it just didn’t work.” You laugh again, and he can’t stop his heart from faltering, his fingers reaching out to brush away a tendril that’s fallen before he can think better of it. “You smiling is… fuck it’s… I guess I didn’t think you’d ever smile at me?”

You sober up now, realizing how good his hand feels. You try to explain it away, that you want to have a somewhat decent life with him, that you want to not have hatred rampant in your heart. But every laugh and smile feels like more of the betrayal of your feelings, were they really so fleeting!? Did you really feel love, or was it some fantastical dream?

“Frowning again,” he murmurs. “Thinking of home?”

“I am, I suppose…” You shake the thoughts from your head now, sighing. “What do you like to do, you didn’t answer me.”

“I love training with my sword, though I detest fighting I enjoy it in a way,” his voice is quiet, serious. He sips his sake and hands you the little dish, letting you leave your lip print on the other side. It slips warmly down your throat, filling your body with that sensation, mixed with his proximity. “I don’t want to be a warmonger like my father was.”

“You want to be more peaceful?” You ask, curious about him. All you’ve known is how immature and jealous he can be, you do not know him truly. This side of him intrigues you, watching him open up about something much deeper.

“Yes, I would like to be, but not a pacifist either… it’s a difficult balance, and everyone has some fucking say in it.” He shakes his head now, cupping your face instead. “I do not want to talk about politics right now, I just want to kiss you.”

“Emperor-” he slams his lips on yours, cutting you off, before pulling back, lips glossy with that perfect pout of his.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Shut up,” you do kiss him again, until it’s eager, your tongues fighting each other, and he’s got you pressed against him, lewd and obscene, baring your thighs while he slides that dress up. “Mnh!”

“The sounds you make,” he kisses down your throat, you’re straddling him, feeling his thickness insistent where you ache. He presses up, watching your eyelashes flutter, hearing another cry. “What you do to me.”

“Stop talking, mnh just take me,” he’s lost then, your hands holding onto his shoulders while your cries echo in the huge room. “Mmm, just do it.”

“I need you to want it,” he murmurs, breaking apart from his hasty kiss, just a little trail of saliva between you both. “Desire it, desire me.”

“I do, you idiot,” he scowls, and you shove at him. “You know I do, but I won’t give you unending devotion like your little crew of girls, if that’s what you want. But I do want this, I will not beg for it or go on more than telling you to take me to your room - and fuck me finally - mmph!”

Satoru slams his lips on yours, it’s hungrier than any kiss you’ve had, even with him, desperation in every breath, picking you up like you’re nothing. His hands on your ass, your arms around his neck, he starts walking, you panic when you’re out in the damn halls like this, and he’s kissing you, walking the halls without even looking, even as you pull back to gasp.

“What are you, insane?” You whisper, seeing so many servants, some faces already recognizable, he chuckles then, a crazy grin on his handsome features.

“We want to give them a show, don’t we?” You bury your face, hiding away while he carries you past whispering little gossipers, who run off and tell everyone that the Empress is being carried to Satoru’s chambers. He brings you to his chambers, and that’s when you both are truly alone.

He sets you down finally after his little display, the gossip still being heard through the walls. “We definitely gave them gossip fodder.”

“We’ll give them more,” his voice is soft, he gently touches those dangling earrings of yours, sighing. “I want to rip this dress off you, but it’s just too pretty I’m afraid, I’ll have to take my time.”

You feel dizzy with the desire, the hunger for him. Satoru begins to untie your robes carefully, gently, his breath coming faster when he slowly takes them off, leaving you in the thin little white slip only. He slowly runs his fingers down the sides of your breasts, watching your nipples press up under the silk, eyes catching yours, seeing how dilated they are.

“We have two options, empress,” he murmurs softly, slipping the thin straps off your shoulders. Your heart hammers in your ears as he lets the slip fall in a pool of fabric around your ankles. “One, I eat you out on this door till you cum.”

“Your majesty…” he tilts your chin up, as you look down nervously, forcing your gaze back to his.

“They'll think we consummated it, and you can keep everything for when you feel ready.” You exhale, hating what you're about to ask.

“The other option?” You whisper softly, Satoru leans over you now, a hand cupping your face. His blue eyes study you too intensely, while he bends at the waist, pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“The other option is I ruin you for anyone. Your pretty cunt will only know my shape, be just ruined for anyone.” You glare, as he grins like he does, before untying his robes, hearing his sharp intake of breath when you look at him under your lashes.

“You have it wrong, I'm afraid, I would be the one to ruin you for anyone.” Your words make his heart race, his cock that's already leaking precum straining when you pause undressing him to smile and bat your lashes. 

“Tch, you're an impudent little brat, aren't you?” He turns you now, pressing your bare breasts against the door, tugging at your hips. His robes are draped along his shoulders, his hard body against you when he murmurs – “Arch for me.”

“Arch?” You whisper, he's got your hips in his hand, yanking you up now.

“Press your pretty little ass out so I can properly lick you,” You're a mess, when he touches your slick. “I'm choosing option three.”

“O-option three?” You gasp as his fingers part your plump folds, exposing your drooling hole.

“Mmhmm, eat you out and then take you to my bed to fuck you,” he whispers it against your ear, sinking just a fingertip into your cunt now, walls already quivering around the invasion. “The best option, isn’t it?”

“Ah!” Your thighs shake when Satoru cups your face, hard body pressing against you. He turns your chin and you look into his eyes, taking in their darkening rings, the expanding pupils while soft candles flicker and reflect shadows of you two across his room, your lewd position. 

“You want that? Me to lick your pretty cunt again?” You swallow now, his other hand is running little circles on your clit, which twitches in response, tummy tightening in need. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I want you to.” He's pulling back his glistening finger, swiping it on your lips. “Mnh…”

“Should make you say please,” he taunts, sinking to his knees, kissing your inner thigh. “Tease you till you beg for me.”

“Hah, I would never- ngh!” He's already licking a filthy stripe up your slit, collecting the gossamer slick that coats your lips.

“What was that, empress?” His teeth are nipping at your ass cheek, right where the curve meets your thigh, chuckling a little. “I can’t hear you, your cunt is just so loud you know.”

“Oh you - more, please,” his grin is felt infuriatingly against your skin, the little jerk is eating this pathetic state of you all up, pulling off your cunt with a suctioned pop, teasing it with his breath now. “Really you’re so ridiculous!”

“I like you like this, I should just keep you cumming, hmm?” You arch more, earning his pleased smirk, his cock throbbing and leaking so much precum it hurts almost. “Should just keep you fucked out.”

“Shut up and get back down there,” he moans at that, you shake your head, before resting it on the coolness of the door. “You’re insane, Emperor.”

“Maybe you just drive me there.” He does just as you order, no one has ever ordered Satoru Gojo around, the words echo in his ears, his hands dragging your thighs apart, angling his chin to collect more of the arousal dripping out.

His tongue is just as you remember, you wondered if it was the initial surprise of such a thing, but it’s a wicked tongue, one that licks all thought and good sense - fuck it licks the guilt you’ve held away. You can’t think or remember how you even got here, with the Emperor buried between your thighs, but the way his tongue fucks in and out of your hole is so delicious you can’t help but want more.

He’s making those filthy sounds, moans and slurps while he tries and fails to catch the wetness just pouring out, slipping all over his pretty face. His chin bumps your sensitive clit, making you jerk away, only for him to drag your hips back. “Ah - ah sweetheart, don’t run from it.”

You don’t have to bite back a retort, there simply isn’t one, you’re closer and closer with his tongue curling inside those gummy walls, they contract around his tongue while he drinks your flavor that’s just flowing, swallowing it down while he feels you shiver. Your tummy is so tight, a knot aching for release, the intensity building, his fingers sinking into the plush of your thighs while he keeps them from closing.

“I’m… you’re… oh my god,” your words are incoherent babbling, filling his ears while his blood rushes, almost spurting cum from having your walls grip his tongue so tightly. “Ngh there, there!”

He uses his thumb to stimulate your clit while he fucks you with his tongue, making you shatter for him. Your orgasm rocks you in waves, so intense you can hardly stand anymore, legs useless and weak, screaming out so loud you know those fucking servants hear you. 

You can’t help but hope they run and tell the concubines that Satoru made you scream, in his chambers, where none of them are allowed. The possessive nature of your scattered thoughts shocks you, but you have no time to think on it, not when he licks higher, flicking his tongue on your other hole.

“W-what are you on about!?”

“You can talk, hmm, that’s not good,” he flicks it again, making you like it, laughing softly. “Not in your books either, is it?”

“You should write thosebooks, you manwhore- oh fuck, stop that!” He’s pressing a finger inside the little puckered hold now, you enjoy it far too much. “N-never mind, continue.”

He chuckles at that, pressing into your tight hole.“You’re the slutty one, first time and you want me in both your holes?” He is terrible, truly, taunting you when he laps up more of your cunt, your juices on your inner thighs, before standing, trailing kisses on your spine while his thumb presses in more. “All three of them, I bet.”

You don’t even really know what he’s talking about now, the pressure and slight pain making you wetter, until you feel it. His cock, pressing hot against your back, freed from that last layer between you. You look up then, he slips out his finger to grab your hips, cock insistent and thick on your ass now, you’re arching more, hating his smirk so much.

“Stop gloating, just fuck me… please…” He moans now, kissing your lips, and the kiss feels like too much, there’s just something in it, when he bends down, running his tip across your slit. “In me, god…”

“Against a door, the first time? We need to get to my bed,” you’re shaking your head, rocking your hips on his tip now, making him inhale. “You’re that needy, can’t wait?”

“Just put it in, w-want it,” you should hate yourself for the words, but you do, want the cock he’s teased you with for days, the one with the pretty pink tip that’s pressing just a bit into your soppy cunt now, stretching the skin. “Mnh!”

“I’ll give you anything you want when you ask sweet, here I thought you were just so evil,” you scoff, but the sound stops, morphing into a sharp gasp as he presses in, pushing past the tight ring of muscles, and he pauses, groaning, just his tip is in, but it’s enough to almost make you both cum. “Fuck… you’re too tight.”

You’re speechless now, you expected pain, so much pain from those stories you heard, but when he pushes deeper, it’s only pressure and pleasure. Such pressure, so much fullness, it’s hard to breathe. He pauses, taking it slow with you, cupping your face again and bracing his other arm on the wall, fingers entwining right over yours and slowly gripping your hand.

It’s too much.

You’re lost in him, in his eyes, as lost as he is in you, whispering your name in a way that makes you wetter, makes your heart flutter irritatingly. “Are you all right, is it too much?” He asks, further making you wonder just who he is, for every bad part there’s something sweet about him.

“I’m all right, just um… full…” He groans now, kissing you, sinking in deeper, drinking up your cries while he slips more inches in, your cunt is trying to accomodate, his thickness stretching your little unused hole out, it melds to him. “Oh… oh!”

“Good?” You nod eagerly, so he pulls back, you whine out at the loss, only for him to shove in deeper, gasping right against your lips. “Oh fuck, your cunt is so perfect, god fuck you for it.”

“F-fuck me!? Fuck you… ah! Y-yes, more please, please,” he’s lost in how you can be so fucking mean, then sweetly beg, your eyes as black as his, lips swollen from his kisses. His cock thrusts deeper with a snap of his hips, bottoming out then, watching as your eyes roll back in your skull. “So deep, too deep!”

“No, you can take me, can’t you? Swear she’s made just for me,” you shake your head but you’re already lost, when he bends low, grabbing your hips and fucking deep, his drooly tip right on your cervix. “That’s it, let me feel you, perfect little thing, you make me insane.”

You’re barely hearing his words, not when his thrusts are harder, deeper, not when he’s ruining your mind and your body. The door rattles with every thrust as he fucks you harder, as you start to take his cock better, your head falls back against his chest, tears pricking your eyes with the pressure, with how good he feels, the delicious stretch.

“You’re doing s’good, sweetheart,” his praise makes you feel needier, his breath against your bitten lips burning, cock shoving deeper. He eyes your expression, whispering – “Fucking beautiful, look at you.”

You shake your head, but he grips your chin, cock fucking you harder, you arch more for it, your back in a curve, feeling his heavy balls slapping on your clit over and over. You’re pathetic in your whines, in your little mutters of nonsense, his cock bringing you closer, but this time something different.

It’s not like his fingers or mouth, the fullness is intense, the way his tip just drags on your spots – ones you haven’t ever felt touched. “You are beautiful, let me say it, please,” you finally nod, and he moans, kissing you deeply, shoving inside you until he reaches the hilt, till you can’t even take anymore.

“Good girl, milking me, huh?” You have no clue what he’s even on about, but you do know the intensity is building again, you’re both lost in it, in each other. The sound of your skin slapping against his, his deep groans in your ear, the wetness wrapping his cock and dripping down your thighs.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the way he’s stretching you, filling you so completely, you can feel your muscles clench around his shaft, his grip tightens bruisingly along your waist. “Fuck, you’re taking all of me, aren’t you?”

“Too much, p-pressure…” He nips your neck, the earrings and necklace rocking back and forth with every thrust.

His hips are snapping harder, cock shoving into you with a tempo that’s driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you know you’re going to fall over it, careen off the fucking deep end. You want to fight it, but your body has no attention, just arching for more, greedy cunt sucking him in deeper. Your toes curl underneath you, nails digging into Satoru’s arms damn near as you let go.

You panic, but he shushes you, practically using your body, your cunt now. “Oh sweetheart, you’re made to take my cock,” you shake your head, but he’s pressing in once more, you swear you can feel his thick cock throb within you now. “Cum for me, on me, make a mess of me, hmm? Just me, all me…”

You hear it, the desperation, breaking through your addled mind, a hand comes up to grip a jiggling tit now, thumb brushing your nipple, you fall apart with the added pleasure, cumming all over him, just like he commanded you too. You can’t see, can’t even breathe for a moment, when he just pulls out of you, you almost fall but he’s got you lifted now, facing him.

Facing him like this should be embarrassing, you should hate it, but you just cling to his neck, kissing him deeper when he drags you over to the dresser, the elegant black one the perfect height for him to fuck you. Your head rests against the mirror, when you look down and see it.

Suguru’s necklace.

It’s not broken anymore, in fact it’s clearly been welded together, he slips off the current one now, gentle almost, his cock still dripping with you as it hangs there – the weight so heavy. You clench thinking of it, wanting more of him, so much so you barely acknowledge the necklace for a moment, until he places your new one next to it.

“You fixed it?” You whisper, he sighs now, caressing your cheek, down to your throat, where the lines of his grip under your chin mark you. “Why?”

“I don’t know why,” he admits, spreading your thighs and coming closer, his tip slipping against your aching hole, already sore from being split apart. Your hands slide up his chest, he bends down, letting your legs grip his muscled waist, pressing against his rib cage now. “You can’t wear it around me, I don’t want to fucking see it.”

“I don’t want to see whores on you,” your whisper is dirty, your mouth filthy, the tone just making him shove his cock all the way in one stroke. “Ah! Too much, you’re too deep!”

“You can take me,” he whispers those words, fucking you right on that dresser, so hard your head almost slams the mirror, but he catches it, yanking out the pins. Your hair flows down, draping against you, framing your pretty face. “I want you to cum again, and see your face when you do.”

You shake your head, but he’s fucking in this maddening rythm, you’re already oversensitive from just how much you’ve cum, shaking and gasping for a breath, but all you get is his insane, eclipsing fucking energy. Cock stuffed inside you, big hands bruising you, lips overtaking any senses you had. Your former necklace presses marks into your thigh as he fucks you right over it.

He gets a sick satisfaction at the sight when he pulls back, tugging it off, looking at the pattern from the chain. You see it, and scowl at him then, while he grins. “Fucking psycho, I still hate you - ah!”

He shoves his cock in deep, slamming harder now, taking out every frustration you’ve caused in your cunt, relishing in the way your mouth opens, cupping your chin now. “You can hate me, but I’m the one fucking you, aren’t I? The cock you’re cumming on is mine, and I’m the one kissing you.”

“Hate you, so much,” his eyes burn like blue flames, molten cores of a fire too hot, burning like the stretch of him on your skin. “Emperor.”

“Satoru, say it.” You shake your head, and he scowls now, you know it angered him, and you want it to, his angry strokes hitting so good you can’t take it. “Say it, slutty little brat.”

“You’re s-slutty, ngh!” He’s too deep, rolling his hips just so, teeth nipping your sore lip as hard as you bit him earlier.

Red droplets slip, Satoru just kisses it off you, the blood on your lips metallic and tangy, he pulls back and it’s all over his face, making him look dangerous as his long tongue swipes it up. “Do you want my babies inside you?”

You falter, swallowing nervously, eyes lowering, only for him to jerk your chin up now. “It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

“Wrong answer,” he’s lifting you again, like it’s nothing, carrying you over to his bed with his hard cock inside you. Your head is pressed into his plush pillows, the canopy, staring down at you. You swipe the blood off his lips, earning a little kiss on your thumb, which is far too intimate. “Do you want me to cum inside you? Fill you up so much you’ll drip me for days?”

You swallow nervously, his hand splaying your tummy, your heart is hammering, breasts rising and falling as you struggle to not want the images. “Emperor…”

“Satoru, when I cum inside you, when your womb is so full of my seed,” he’s lost in the vision, the idea of it, watching your expressions while you grip his sheets into your little fists. “Filling you so good, aren’t I? Can’t admit it?”

“Shh,” your back arches off the bed when he thrusts his cock all the way in again, he stares at the bulge in your stomach, moaning at the sight. “I’ll only… mnh… say it once then.”

He eyes you, desperate and needy now, lifting your thighs and tugging you down the bed, the soft sheets against your skin a whisper. “Say it then, say my name when I  cum inside your perfect cunt. Only me.”

“Satoru,” he whimpers now, you’re spasming around his cock with your slick walls, and your eyes are lidded, lashes low, pretty fucked out expression making him ache even more. “Satoru….”

“Fuck,” he’s done for, kissing you deeply, lifting a thigh and slamming his cock until he bottoms out, ragged moans escaping his throat. “Gonna give you all my cum, fill you s’good huh, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod weakly, wishing his name didn’t feel so good on your lips, when you feel him, his cock pumping hot sticky ropes, burning hot seed that coats your walls with white. He’s whimpering into your mouth now, a soft little sound you heard when you sucked him, only spurring you on more and more, while he fucks his cum into you, aftershocks urging him to spurt so much.

“Mnh, Satoru…” You should stop now, but he feels too good, his weight on you, as he leans back, kissing along your jaw, your name a caress against your ear.

“Going to put my heir inside you,” you can’t react to that, you can’t admit you want it, but he’s too lost anyway in his visions of you. “So many heirs, rebuild my line in your tummy, won’t I?”

“Shh, insane ass man.” He smiles then, but once he sees your eyes, and falls into them, it’s terrifying.

He’s never cum inside anyone. He’s made sure to not, but he never wanted to pull out of you, even now he’s there, as she’s letting his cum fall along his cock, dripping with your own arousal. It’s quiet, his thumb caressing your heated cheek, he tries to remember it’s just a duty, just enjoyable, but he knows it’s a lie.

A dangerous lie.

He knows your heart isn’t his, even if your body might be for now, and the thought makes him furious, his stomach tensing now as you speak. “If sex is like this, I suppose I see why you’re a whore.”

He can’t help but laugh then, you slip the nagging thought from his brain, he laughs genuinely, making you smile, before you both sober up. “It isn’t like this.”

What has he admitted?

“It’s not?” Your brows knit in confusion, he wants to tell you that you’re why it’s so good, but he’s terrified of the power you already hold over him. To give you more would just leave him broken.

“No, you are… it’s just different,” is all he really manages to say. He watches the blush decorate your cheeks, your lashes casting shadows under your eyes as they lower, hands resting on his thick biceps.

“They’ll hate me more now,” you murmur, eyes locking back on him. “I’m sure they heard us.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise that,” you look away, you don’t believe him, not the way he’s let them act, but you’re too tired and vulnerable to speak on it for now. “Let me clean you up.”

“You don’t have-”

“Shut up.” He pulls out of you, and you feel sore and oddly empty, walking over to grab something, his back and ass so strong and defined you ache again.

“Excuse me!?” You glare as you sit up, he’s turning around just to smirk at it.

“You looked too happy, had to make you scowl again.”

“Oh you’re a dick, arrogant- ouch!” He’s wiping you up gently, you hiss. “Sore, sore, mnh…”

“You took that cock very well, you’re the sluttiest virgin I’ve seen.”

“I will smack you.” He just grins again, hiding the fact that he’s falling for you under a facade.

It’s all a facade, always. 

“Will you sleep in here?” He asks later, slipping one of his soft, light kimonos over your arms, leaving it open while he peers at you, littered with his marks, making him want you again.

“Um, wouldn’t it look good?” You ask, eyeing the door.

“It would,” he acts as if that’s why, watching you contemplate for a moment. “It’s late to take you all the way back, too.”

“Then yes, I will… your bed is comfier than mine anyway,” you use that excuse to snuggle against him, he smells so good, even his sweat does. Just something intoxicating as it is comfortable. He holds you against his chest, while his chin rests on your head. “Emperor?”

“I lost ‘Satoru’, will I only get that when I cum inside you?” You blush and scowl at him, he can’t stop his lips from quirking up. “Fine, what was it?”

“I thought my first time would hurt, and it didn’t… so … thank you for being um… I don’t know what I’m saying.” You bury your face again, and he senses it, the sweet shy thing buried under layers of confidence and anger, endearing yourself to him more.

“It should not hurt if done properly, I’m assuming those tales scared you,” he says, and you nod, while he tugs the covers over you both. “So I take it you quite enjoyed my cock.”

“Smug little jerk,” He’s smiling as you rest now, body relaxing, it feels too good, too natural for you to fit there. “You have much practice I suppose.”

“I suppose I do. But… you were…”

“Were what?” Your voice is sleepy, you yawn just a bit. “Was I up to par with the mean little brats that frolic around?”

“Don’t compare yourself please,” his voice is strained now. You’ve shifted everything in days, and he doesn’t want to admit it. “You are their better in every aspect, including this, yes?”

Your smile is felt on his chest, while he holds you, but you’re not gifted with sweet dreams when you drift off.

No – it’s a nightmare, of the man you haven’t even thought of, and the man who was inside of you. One in your heart, one taking over your senses, you feel hopelessly tugged between them, Suguru’s hurt, Satoru’s possessiveness, and for once you don’t know which side to go to.

Satoru wonders why you’re shifting in your sleep, seeing tears slip across your cheeks that night, wondering just what is in your mind, while his own whirls, with what he’s going to do with the fact that he thinks he’s fallen in love. In love with a girl who hates him, a beautiful girl crying in his arms, in the throes of a nightmare, and the consequences of just what that means for his life.

How would anything be the same after you?

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine

There will be MORE angst, don't think it's fluffy yet LMAO <3 Hope to see you pookies in the comments :')

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[nanamisweetgirl]

🜼 ⋆ when you said you wanted to give him a handjob, kento never thought you’d leave him folding forward.

“you wanna please me that bad?” he muttered earlier, almost amused, a little condescending. like he was entertaining you. like it wouldn’t actually get to him.

you had asked so sweetly, too—“just my hand, nanami. let me try?”—and he’d said yes with that quiet smirk, the kind that says i’m humoring you, sweetheart.

but now? now he’s sweating. legs shaking, mouth parted around something halfway between a moan and a breathless fuck as your hand works him in ruthless, slick strokes.

“h-haah—slow down—” he manages, voice breaking over the syllables, hand flying down to grip your wrist—but not to stop you. no, not really. he’s just trying to anchor himself, steady the tremble in his arms.

but you don’t slow down. you squeeze instead.

“thought you said i could use it?” you purr, twisting your wrist just under the swollen head, watching him fold at the waist, hunched over like he’s bracing for impact. “wasn’t this your idea?”

“not—like this,” he grits out, head bowed low, blonde hair sticking to his temples. his thighs are tense, spread wide, the muscles twitching as his cock pulses in your fist. he looks wrecked, like he’s holding onto every last thread of composure and it’s snapping right between your fingers. “fuck—fuck, you’re gonna—make me come again—”

“good.” you brace yourself.

you stroke him harder, faster—using both hands now, spit-slick and mean, and he bucks into it with a noise you’ve never heard from him before. his hips stutter, twitch, then try to pull back—his whole body flinching from the oversensitivity—but you don’t let him. you grip him tighter, pump him through it like you own it.

“not so cocky now, huh?” you whisper more to yourself but his ears twitch, catching your words.

he groans—loudly, like it punches out of his chest—head tipping back as his cock jumps again, spilling more precum across your knuckles. you know he’s close. again. you can feel it: the way his abs clench, the hitch in his breath, the way he mumbles “shit, shit, shit” like he’s trying to hold it in.

but he can’t.

you make him come again anyway.

his whole body curls inward, hips jerking as you milk him through it, fist tight, relentless, squeezing every drop from him while he whimpers through gritted teeth. he’s so loud now, so desperate, gasping your name like he’s begging and doesn’t even know what for.

and when you don’t stop—when you keep going, still fisting him, still rubbing his tip raw—he starts to shake. thighs trembling, breath hitching with every stroke, body instinctively trying to twist away.

“too much,” he breathes. “it’s—it’s too much, i can’t—”

but his cock is still twitching in your palm. still rock hard. still leaking. still yours.

so you smile, lips grazing his ear, and say,

“yes you can. you gave it to me, remember?”

and you don’t stop until he’s gone.

until he’s quiet. twitching. fucked-out.

and no part of him remembers why he ever thought it’d be just a handjob.

[coralbae]

ride of your life

you ask to ride their abs | requested

minors and ageless blogs dni!!

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna + ino

warnings: NSFW, sexual

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you accompany sukuna to a meeting with the head of the fujiwara clan. all goes well, until the other concubines mess with your head, causing you to mess up and overthink everything.

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. prologue to the ‘poisoned concubine’ fic idea. mention of cannibalīsm, subtle misogynistic standards from back then, anxiety. reader gets called ‘woman’. not proof read.

the head of an influential clan would be visiting the estate today, which is why your ladies-in-waiting are currently helping you dress up. perhaps they’re doing too much. the accessories in your hair and the multiple layers of robes and cloth on your body keep weighing you down.

“all done, my lady,” one of them eventually speaks up. the others step back and bow at you politely before cleaning up the area. your head lady-in-waiting hands you a small mirror.

you look stunning. but then again—perhaps a bit too extravagant to your liking. the make-up is heavy, the red powder stands out immediately around the shape of your eyes. the hairpins dangle and make faint clinking noises as you move your head.

“beautifully done. thank you,” you answer with a hum. the jūnihitoe you’re wearing consists of the colors red and gold—something fitting of a high-ranking concubine.

and not just a high-ranking concubine. you’re the ryomen sukuna’s favored concubine.

you grab your folding fan in hand and move out of your chambers when your ladies-in-waiting are prepared for your departure. you’re a bit nervous even though sukuna has held these gatherings many times before (well, against his will; he only does so when he’s certain he’ll gain a satisfying amount of profit).

“you will be the most beautiful woman out there, my lady. i’m sure of it,” the soft voice of your head lady-in-waiting snaps you out of your anxious trance. you tilt your head to the side and flash her a grateful smile. her comment did certainly soothe your fraying nerves.

before you can respond, another one of your attendants speaks up. “those other concubines will be seething with jealousy, my lady,” she giggles quietly, hiding her grin behind her hand.

“i can assure you that they’ll look nowhere as beautiful as you do, as usual,” she adds in a whisper. the three other ladies-in-waiting snicker at the snarky remark.

you have a small itch to scold them for their reckless behavior. shaming another concubine behind her back is strictly forbidden and severely unladylike, though you stay silent. no one is around to reprimand them or you for not teaching your attendants better, so you let them have their little moment.

not like you actually care whether they badmouth the other concubines.

you eventually reach the end of the spacious hallway and come to stand at the top of the grand staircase. you take in a deep breath before looking down at the entrance to the courtyard, where the other concubines are standing.

there at the front is the one and only; sukuna.

the hushed murmurs in the hall fade away as all eyes turn to look up at you. although the only gaze you care about are that of the cursed one.

all four of sukuna’s red eyes are on you. they’re scanning, cold and calculating, like he’s appraising his finest asset. his stoic facial expression doesn’t change as you carefully walk your way down the wooden steps. his eyes, however, never leave your face and body.

the air is heavy with anticipation and as thick as incense smoke. the concubines that are gathered around the king of curses, seeming to have been trying hard to get his attention before you arrived, freeze in place. some can't help but glance your way with poorly veiled disdain or masked envy. you're the last one to arrive and it's clear why: the arrangement of your attire that is almost obviously better in quality than theirs, the coiling in your hair and faint scent of sakura and amber that follows you.

your ladies-in-waiting have been given the finest materials to work with, to prepare you thoroughly for this gathering. the rumors that sukuna had specifically given them everything needed to make sure you're looking your best are proven to be true.

once again, the other women are made aware of the painfully blatant favoritism.

but none of that matters to you. not the whispers, not the glares, not even the sharp inhale of one of the other women at your audacity when you don't even acknowledge their existence. because he is watching.

sukuna, draped in muted reds and dark silks, stands at the forefront like a carving from a fevered dream. towering and immutable. his expression is still unreadable, although his eyes follow you with ruthless precision. those terrible yet beautiful eyes.

they rake over you not like a man admiring beauty, but like a king measuring worth. you feel it in your skin, your throat and your spine. that ancient and oppressive pressure that both threatens to crush you and pull you forward. that push and pull between you two never gets old.

the others notice the palpable tension between king and concubine as well and they're clearly not happy with it. however they have little power to stop it--to speak up against this unfairness.

sukuna's gaze does not falter even once. not as you reach the bottom step, not as you finally meet his stare with one of your own as you stand nearby. it's pure silence for a good five seconds before he speaks up.

“took you a while, woman,” sukuna comments, his voice low and rough. it's not mean, but also not kind or anything close to it. you didn’t expect a compliment from him so the only thing you can do is bow your head in apology.

“my apologies, my lord,” you reply with a steady voice. you ignore the hateful stares from the concubines standing nearby, your eyes on the wooden floors.

sukuna is silent for a moment before a slight and low hum escapes his lips. it’s not much of an acknowledgment to your apology, but it’s enough. he walks past you without much of a word.

except your gaze follows him quietly, and there on his face, only you can notice the slightest curl of his lips. the ghost of that damned satisfied and amused smirk.

you fall in line and slowly walk behind sukuna, on his right side. a brown-haired concubine walks on his left—the other two following. you’re walking down the spacious hallway with elegance, just as is expected of a court lady.

the courtyard is just ahead of you now, the two ornate sliding doors closed and ready to be opened once sukuna gives a sign.

you breathe in slowly through your nose and close your eyes for a good second. you hope nothing goes wrong today, that no one tries to sabotage another.

despite your silent prayers, you’re sure at least on of those women surrounding you will try to embarrass you.

the doors to the courtyard open, revealing the familiar sight of the gardens. you keep your eyes low and fall into pace with the others. however, you can’t help but sneak glances at sukuna’s back.

you know he isn’t fond of having any humans around his estate. they’re usually food for him, or entertainment, before he kills them. you wonder what is going on through his head. if he doesn’t reach a satisfying deal with the fujiwara clan head today, he might just get rid of him. or take out his annoyance on one of the poor servants.

well, the only thing you can do is hope all goes well.

the gardens are as beautiful as ever. the only thing that has been changed to it is the raised lacquered platform with a long low wooden table on it. multiple tatami mats are placed in two rows on each side of the table. one side for the fujiwara clan and the other for sukuna and his concubines.

you’re not surprised to see that the fujiwara clan head is accompanied by his own concubines. even if it’s not spoken out loud, you know it’s a show of power by both sides. the more concubines or courtesans, the more authority and prestige someone holds.

you shiver as you feel a pair of eyes on you. four eyes, staring right at your soul. you immediately lower your gaze once you sense that flicker of dominance, coming from none other than the king of curses. he doesn’t have to directly look at you to be able to scare the soul out of you.

the unspoken threat that passes between sukuna and you is clear; look at that man for a second longer and he dies.

the pink-haired man doesn’t even greet the guests, simply walking to the elevated platform and sitting down on the mat laid out at the head of the table. he doesn’t care—doesn’t bother to talk about anything that isn’t business. he wants those humans gone as soon as possible.

you and the other concubines follow wordlessly. none of you dare to speak up without permission. not that you have any say in the matter. this is a deal between two powerful men and your opinion as a consort isn’t going to be valued much.

you sit on your knees, the cushion comfortable enough to keep you in that position for some time. you fold your hands over your silky robes and keep your head bowed slightly.

“speak,” sukuna grumbles. he’s bored already, not even giving the other man a chance to introduce himself properly. he wants to get straight to the point to prevent losing time on nonsense.

“and make it quick,” he adds as his red eyes bore onto the clan head.

the noble man is taken aback from the coldness and intimidation, clearly swearing a bit already. he’s heard the rumors—of others who’ve sought just a friction of sukuna’s power to help them, only to end up six feet under without getting a chance.

eventually, he clears his throat and speaks. “i humbly thank you for—“

“i said speak.”

a loud crash is heard and it startles nearly everyone around. you flinch but don’t lift your gaze to investigate. you could hear it—the sound of glass scattering down on the floor. a nearby vase scattered. one that was right behind the clan head. it’s a clear threat. a warning to not piss sukuna off even more.

to tread carefully.

you’re used to sukuna’s little outbursts. he’s an impatient man after all. small talk and too much ‘fake’ gratitude irks him. it wastes his time.

the noble man and his consorts squirm in discomfort in their seats, but try to not cause any more ruckus. the vase is already being cleaned up by uraume—their face expressionless as they wordlessly clean up after their master.

and so the actual deal starts to be negotiated. this time with absolute zero small talk.

sukuna isn’t interested and it’s clear. his answers are curt and straightforward, while the clan head does most of the talking and bargaining, mainly getting rejected for his offers.

the tension is heavy in the air. you and the others are basically decoration at this point. pretty dolls with not a say in the matter. no one dares to look around or move.

only when the king of curses finally and reluctantly accepts a single offer, do you breathe. the clan head would grant him full authority over a big area while also sending him sacrifices (which includes humans) every month. in exchange, sukuna would take care of a small problem.

that being assassinating the clan head’s competition, the man’s own brother.

you didn’t even realise how much you’re sweating until the noble man excuses himself to talk to one of his consorts. you look to the side, at sukuna, who’s eyes are already on you.

you’re about to glance back down at your lap when one of his calloused fingers tugs your chin back up. your mouth parts lightly as his rough thumb tugs your bottom lip down, watching it bob back into place once he lets go.

the red lipstick stains his skin, though he doesn’t seem to care.

“are you satisfied with the deal i accepted?” sukuna asks. it’s a trick question, his eyes cold and calculating as he awaits your response.

you swallow thickly before answering, “whatever satisfies you, satisfies me in return, my lord.”

the king of curses smirks. for the first time since you’ve seen him today, he shows an ounce of amusement. he lets go of your chin with a soft shove. “clever,” he comments gruffly.

though it doesn’t seem like it, he’s in a better mood. so much so he orders uraume to prepare a meal. not for the guests—they’re expected to leave immediately. he has no use for them anymore.

uraume bows politely before disappearing into the main building. a few attendants follow them to the kitchen area.

the noble man and his concubines take their leave. neither did they want to linger in the presence of such a cruel monster, who’d kill them with a single flick if they didn’t watch themselves.

the other concubines seem less on edge as well once the guests leave and sukuna seems to be in a somewhat better mood. they know it’s because of you, have seen and heard your little interaction from the sidelines. it irritates and angers them, though they know better than to let it be visible.

the brown-haired concubine whispers to the one next to her. that same woman relies the message to the other and the cycle continues for a few seconds. except for those hushed murmurs, the gardens are comfortably silent.

sukuna doesn’t seem to care much. his focus is on the delicious meal that uraume is preparing him, his fingers drumming against the table as he waits. almost impatiently.

his hard gaze flickers to you again, as it does many times. he did well ordering your attendants to dress you in the finest silk.

“keep that on tonight,” sukuna says shamelessly, his words dripping with innuendo. in other words; he’ll visit your chambers again tonight.

not the others, but you. again.

the concubines fall silent and their faces are masks of polite smiles, but they’re fuming internally. all the while you’re trying not to look embarrassed by sukuna’s bold comment.

“understood,” you answer with a short nod. your heart is beating faster as you try not to show your nervosity. his eyes are clearly undressing you, imagining what you’d taste like. both figuratively and literally.

while you wait for your meal, you look around idly. one of the concubines had called over her attendant and whispers something in her ear. you can’t catch what it is, but the young girl seems to be a bit taken aback. her eyes flicker to sukuna for a split second.

perhaps with concern.

but just as quickly, she’s gone, back inside the building with a hurry in her steps. you shake the feeling off. it’s probably nothing.

you take a deep breath to calm yourself. you’re overthinking everything again—the anxiety becoming worse as the concubines flash you smiles when you glance their way. those same fake smiles they give you whenever sukuna is around. despite the fact that you’re used to it, they seemed more sinister than usual.

perhaps it’s just your imagination.

your palms start to get sweaty when you don’t even know why you’re getting so worked up about something so subtle. that look that attendant gave sukuna, even if it was for a split second, was your first sign. and then the smiles, the muffled laughs they hide behind their fans. behind the disguise of inaudible jokes between fellow concubines . . .

what are they planning this time? are they going to try something foolish to mess with you again? or perhaps they’ll try something else this time.

. . . surely they won’t be foolish enough to try and do something to sukuna? no, of course not. they don’t have that much power or the abilities to cause any damage to someone of his status. plus, they’d be signing their own deaths with that. but if something happens to him, you won’t be save either.

it’s too much. you’re overthinking too much.

without hesitation, you stand up. you need to go somewhere to calm down, because at this rate you’re going to embarrass yourself with the concern and fear etched onto your face. all the while you try your best to keep that elegance in your form, the polite smile on your lips.

“please excuse me,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady. you bow your head at sukuna, who’s watching you intensely with a raised brow. he didn’t expect you to excuse yourself without permission.

before he can say a thing, you’re walking down the main gravel path to the building. all eyes are on you until you disappear behind those doors. the concubines hide their victorious grins behind their folding fans, eyes downcast.

sukuna however, doesn’t show much emotion on his face at your sudden departure. the thrumming of his fingers stop soon after and he clicks his tongue.

he doesn’t know what you’re up to and it’s annoying him. he’s got this urge to keep you beside him at all times so he can keep an eye on you. just like you’re expected to do as his concubine.

what you did just now was an act of defiance. he should’ve ordered you to stay, but something inside him just let you go. to give you the illusion that you had a choice.

sooner or later you’ll return and grovel before him, apologising for your actions and explaining what the hell that was for. when that time comes, he’ll be even more ruthless with his punishment. will show you that defying him has its consequences, even for someone he tolerates. favors.

but when the minutes pass by and you’re still not back, his anger flares up. he tells himself it’s because you disobeyed him by leaving without a word. but a tiny part inside him, the one he loathes and never shows, hates the fact that you left his side more. the fact that he has this ugly possessive need to drag you back outside just so he can keep an eye on what you’re up to.

you belong to him—you’re a part of him. therefore you cannot ever leave him. even if it’s for a second or five minutes.

“damned woman.”

sukuna curses under his breath and slams his palm against the table loudly. he stands up, his large and intimidating frame unfolding to his full 7”’ height. he’s greatly displeased. displeased at the fact you defied him, that he allowed you to actually step foot inside the building and away from him.

but also angry that he has to chase after you. because he has this urge to find out what has gotten into you—the usually obedient, though fiery, concubine that wouldn’t just leave him behind like this.

the pink-haired man storms off, his crimson eyes flaring with anger that scares the concubines left behind into silence. the look in their eyes turns from fear to pure hatred once sukuna disappears behind those doors to go after you.

to have the ryomen sukuna basically chase after someone - not with the intention to kill them or actually harm them - never happens. they cannot believe it. that blatant favoritism never stops, no matter how much they try to gain his attention.

why does he keep them around, like prisoners, when he doesn’t even as much as look at them?

it pisses them off. it fuels their hatred, not only for you, but for him.

however, they calm down as they think of what they have planned amongst themselves;

if all goes well, it’ll be the first and last time sukuna seeks you out - or anyone else for that matter.

[kaitoru]

your husband kento fucking you in a daze

cw ؛ overstimulation. stress driven intimacy. penetrative sex.

your husband, kento, has been at it for hours, his body pressed against yours, his weight a steady anchor as he fucks you into the mattress.

the bed creaks under his rhythm, you knew he was stressed yet you didn’t dare say anything, letting him take what he needed, letting him pour his frustration into you, his cock filling you, stretching you, each thrust chasing away his pent up emotions.

but now, hours in, your body’s trembling, overstimulated, pleasure blurring into sensitivity, your core aching, your thighs shaking, and you can’t hold back anymore.

“kento...” you whine muffled against the pillow as you grip the sheets, your body arching, every thrust sending sparks of too-much pleasure through you.

“t—too much..” you gasp, your hands reaching back, pressing against his hips, trying to slow him, your body quivering, he pauses, just for a moment, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow, his eyes narrowing as they lock on your.

“mhh” he hums, his hand gripping your hip tighter, holding you in place. “you’ve been takin’ me so well, love. don’t tell me you can't be a good girl for me?” and instead of slowing, he thrusts harder, deeper, making you cry out, a sharp, desperate moan, your body jolting under him.

“kento! mhp-” you whimper, your nails digging into his arm, he groans, low, guttural, his hand on the headboard now, gripping hard, the wood creaking under his strength.

he growls, his lips kissing your neck, his hand sliding between you, fingers finding your clit, circling slowly, making you sob, your body convulsing, oversensitive but helpless under his touch.

“keep moanin’ for me, love. let me hear you.”

[riveredmoon]

facesitti- oh, history study lessons with nerd!reader and athlete!sukuna

warnings: mdni: fem!receiving oral

“if you don’t pass this exam…” your voice wavers, just a bit. “you’re off the football team, ‘kuna.”

your thighs tremble on either side of sukuna’s tattooed face, one hand fisting in his pink-hued hair like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. the other gripping on to his history textbook. the answers for tomorrow’s test staring back at you.

you want to fight it — not really. but, you know you should because this is important and you’re the responsible one!!! but his mouth is already wet from your slick and you can’t really see because of how fogged up your glasses are.

“i know that,” he growls, eyes narrowed, lips brushing against your folds. “so, let me study.”

“sitting on your face isn’t going to help you s-stud — fuck.”

you groan — his tongue drags a long, slow stripe along your pussy.

“it is,” his thick arms wrapping around your thighs, slightly, pushing you even closer to his plump lips. his tongue flicking against your clit so lightly, you don’t realize you’re rolling your hips against his face in response. “making you cum means i’m focused.”

you roll your eyes, ready to argue — but then he spits on your cunt and sucks your clit into his mouth like it’s the only thing he’s hungry for. your thighs tightening around his head, the textbook slipping from your grasp. you scramble to keep it upright.

“read,” he mutters, voice muffled. “you know i have to pass.” he pulls back just a bit and you shiver at the sight of your juices on his face.

“and don’t drop the fucking book on my head, brat.”

“maybe you’ll get all the answers the- sukuna!”

his tongue dips into your hole, curling, dragging back out — cutting you off completely. you clench around his tongue, your hips rocking forward instinctively. chasing the friction.

he chuckles. you groan.

“what is the first question, smartass?” he smirks, kissing the inside of your thigh — soft and slow. his fingers digging into you hard, your hips twitching.

your fingers shake as you try to remember how to read — the textbook feeling like cement from how heavy it is in your hands.

“n- name the polic— fuck..” eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack — no sound coming out. just sukuna’s tongue finding its way back, lazily gliding through your folds.

your hips roll in slow, desperate circles. grinding against his face. his tongue speeding up just a bit. chasing after that pressure. wanting, needing more. your orgasm is coiling hot and fast in your gut.

you’re still trying to keep the textbook steady.

slap!

your thigh stings from his hand just met it. his tongue gliding sweetly through your folds — a stark contrast.

cheeks hot, eyes narrowed. “which made it illegal f-for any foreigners to enter jap-?”

“sakoku,” he growls into your pussy — his mouth immediately latching back onto your clit, tongue flicking hard and fast.

slurping from sukuna, intelligible strings of words from you, and the thud from the textbook hitting his pillow (just shy from his head) are the only sounds that could be heard.

your (now) free hand reaches for the headboard. soft whimpers slipping from your lips.

he tightens his grip on your thighs, fingers heavy and hot. and he grinds your cunt down onto his mouth. his nose grazing your clit the perfect amount.

your legs quiver, your pussy throbs, and suddenly, all that tension snaps like a rubber band.

“c-c-correct,” you pant, completely wrecked. you’re trying not to fall over. your orgasm rocking through you like how sukuna tackles players on the field — hard, hot, and angry.

“see?” he murmurs, “your pussy is a good teacher.” lips barely ghosting your folds. and all you could do is moan.

and then he goes right back in — groaning into you, eating through your spasms, tongue still working like he’s trying to pull another one out of you.

you’re a twitching mess — babbling and drooling. the answers for the test are long gone from your mind.

then he pulls back with a wet pop, spit and slick all over his chin and nose. smug grin on his face, all confident.

“next question, nerd,” he groans, voice muffled by your pussy as he pulls you back down. “you’re supposed to be helping me pass.”

thank you @lily-bisque for reading my first draft, ily!