orivaa-kun

[orivaa-kun]

ride for me | chapter 3: go

ch. 1 | ch. 2

chapter word count: 16.3k warnings: mature (18+), drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem OC series summary: Lena Okamoto was emotionally estranged from her father—the CEO of Okamoto Group, a Tokyo-based, multi billion-dollar sports car manufacturing company—after her mother died due to a longterm, post-pregnancy related illness when she was a kid. Amidst her father’s misdirected blame for this, now 27, Lena is finally back in the city. She’s introverted and troubled by her past with her father and step-family, but hardworking and anxious to prove herself to everyone: that she can create the best cars for the Okamoto brand and the fastest engines for their Formula 1 cars. Satoru Gojo is the face of Gojo Industries—the corporation that practically owns Tokyo with its advanced tech that can be found all over the city. Unlike Lena in many ways, the confident and extroverted man leads a completely different, unblemished life—having basically had a spoiled upbringing, and the only trying aspect of his life being the sheer amount of his company responsibilities, obligations, and public appearances. When the two meet, both of their lives change completely. Will they be able to juggle their relationship, trying professional careers, family dynamics, and public image all at once? Sacrifices will have to be made.

It had to be around noon when I woke up from the nap I’d immediately taken after returning to my other home—I could tell from the way the light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling length picture windows alongside the back wall of it. I still occasionally had to reorient myself whenever I woke up in this room, especially as I’d just finished remodeling this side of the house weeks ago, but today I immediately knew exactly where I was upon waking—my mom’s old home in Yamanashi. The sun had pleasantly warmed up my cream-colored duvet and sheets, and much unlike most days, the piercing chime of my phone alarm hadn’t abruptly shaken me awake. It was nice. Maybe Yuko was right about taking more time off... 

I reached under one of my pillows and fished for my phone on the edge of my bed, flipping it over to reveal the actual time—11:48am. Close enough. I sorted through my email for a bit, checking on my shipping notifications for the house and discovering that the wood fire pizza oven was going to be delivered early this afternoon. It was a good thing I’d planned to spend the day here. 

 After responding to messages and aimlessly scrolling though my phone, I finally slipped out of bed, adjusting the white, teddy sleepwear tube top and long pants that had moved around a bit during my sleep. I was about to make my way to the kitchen, but the sound of the doorbell jolted me instead. I reached for my matching robe nearby, quickly fastening the sash around my waist before approaching the front door. The guys delivering the pizza oven were here already?

I opened the door to a tall man with red-dyed hair and wearing an all-black uniform with a tablet in his hand. His hair was tucked into a black cap, and I glanced behind him to see another man in the same uniform beginning to get out of a large truck, “Good morning.” I offered the red-haired man a polite smile.

“Hi. Are you Ms. Lena Okamoto?” He lifted his tablet, seemingly pulling up some sort of page on it.

“Yes. You two are here to deliver the pizza oven, right?”

“Pizza oven…? The man lifted a brow in confusion, “Um, no. We’re here to deliver the painting. Can you sign here, please?” He extended the tablet and attached pen to me.

My brows furrowed together, “Painting? I didn’t buy a painting…”

“It’s a gift from, uh,” The man checked the tablet again, seemingly surprised by the name he saw, “Satoru Gojo?? Shit, you know Satoru Gojo?!” He seemed surprised by the information, like he hadn’t checked the delivery information until now.

“Oh…” I blinked a few times and rubbed my temple, still waking up, “Right.” He did say there’d be a gift waiting for me when I woke up, “Yes, thank you.” A painting?

“Whoa, that’s awesome. Well, where would you like us to put it? It’s pretty heavy.” The red-haired man turned back to glance to the other man in uniform, who unlatched the back hatch of the truck to reveal a long, rectangular box wrapped with white, heavy-duty paper. It looked pretty big, almost as big as… No way. There was no way it could be that painting.

“Oh shit…” I muttered under my breath, in disbelief.

“What was that?” The man asked.

“Oh! Nothing, sorry, um…” I pushed the front door open wider, “Is there any way you two can bring it into my office in here?”

Less than 30 minutes later, I was staring blankly at the wall of my study, jaw practically on the floor as the two art installers mounted the exact Nakamura painting the from me and Satoru’s date yesterday at the art gallery—the modern piece that depicted a calm or storming ocean, depending on how one looked at it. I didn’t even want to think about what a painting like this would be worth… Yes, I did. I’d have to remember to call Yuko about it later. She was an art enthusiast, herself, and would definitely be able to estimate its price point. Was this supposed to be normal for rich boys like Satoru? Did he go around handing out expensive gifts to girls after every first date we went on?!

I slipped my phone out of my robe pocket, immediately beginning to text Satoru.

Though it was a shocking first date gift, the painting was something I wanted… I just thought it was something that would take me a few years to save up for—not one day of dating Satoru Gojo. But who knows if the painting would’ve still been on the market by then… Maybe I should just take the gift? It’s not like Satoru would miss the money, anyways. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. This piece alone was probably worth more than all nine of my sports cars combined!

I took a deep exhale and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself about the situation. I needed to tell Shoko and Yuko about this, like immediately.

~ 

The next morning, I didn’t wake up from my alarm but instead much earlier, before dawn at 4am, to the sound of my phone buzzing repeatedly. I grumbled and pouted, irritated from whoever or whatever was determined to wake me up so damn early. When I flipped my phone over, I discovered the hundreds of notifications—mostly from Instagram. My eyes went from narrowed to wide as I scrolled through, and I immediately sat up, turning on my bedside lamp before reading just a few of the thousand-plus comments that had been posted on a number of my recent posts. 

“don’t take pics with my man!!! 😤🤬” 

“There’s no way satoru gojo’s with a girl who’s barely even Japanese lol” 

“r u dating gojo????” 

“She looks like a uniqlo diversity model 🤣🤣🤣” 

“OMG I found her page!!” 

“back off he’s mineeee” 

“slut” 

The last comment sank heavily in my chest. Was this because I was dating Satoru?? I rapidly scrolled to the top of my page, rubbing my eyes in disbelief at the number of followers I saw. Just a few days ago it had to be around 409K... now it was... 893K?! Overnight?!! How did people find out about us in the first place? 

I exited the app, navigating my search engine. I began to type in my name, and immediately the first autocomplete read, “...and Satoru Gojo picture at docks.” I paused and sighed, roughly running a hand through my curls before reluctantly tapping the ‘search’ icon. And there it was, all over the image search results—Satoru and I pictured mid-kiss in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club entrance. I fucking knew I’d heard the sound of a camera that morning. To top it off, my hair even looked kind of messy from the wind down by the docks. Satoru looked perfect, of course, and was in a full tailored suit compared to my slightly wrinkled, high waisted jeans and long coat that I’d worn the day before. 

After scrolling through a few of the image result photos, I realized that there was not one, but three photos circulating of us—one with Gojo kissing my fingers, one with him kissing my forehead, and one of us kissing each other. It was such an intimate moment... The comments were one thing, but the fact that some random paparazzi had intruded on this sweet moment between Satoru and I, it was off-putting, to say the least. I still remembered the feeling of the brisk wind on my cheeks, the way the cold morning air burned my nose red, and how Satoru’s lips had warmed me up. It was a private moment—one I wished had stayed as such. 

I navigated back to Instagram, tapping a completely different photo on my profile that had nothing to do with this paparazzi fiasco at all. It was one of the stills from my GQ shoot and article from a few months ago—a simple picture of me sitting on the track at sunset beside an older Okamoto model, dressed in a tight-fitting, full black and red leather (and more fashionable than functional) racing suit. What had once been ten or so comments from car fans and my friends was now over a hundred spam-like comments from people who were clearly obsessive fans of Satoru. 

“Is she like a tomboy or something?” 

“ur not even gojo’s type” 

“idk she’s kinda cute!” 

“Oof looks like Gojo is in his hafu phase 🥴 don’t worry GojoGirlies it’ll be over soon 🤣” 

“all of you are just hating b/c she’s tan smh” 

“Why is she even dressed like that if she really makes cars? Seems fake” 

“it’s from a GQ shoot, not a car factory u idiot.” 

“smash” 

I navigated to the search bar, half-typing in the name of a popular Tokyo gossip and entertainment news account—@thesorceryroom. Of course, when I tapped the profile, I saw that there were already four different posts on me and Satoru. What the hell did they even have to go on about us? All we did was kiss!  

Without a second thought, I immediately pulled up Satoru’s contact and hit the call icon, bringing my phone to my ear and biting my lip stressfully as I impatiently waited for him to pick up. It wasn’t until I heard his voice upon answering that it fully dawned on me how early in the morning it was, “Hey, Lena. You’re up early.” Satou noted, voice far from groggy or sleep-ridden... Was he already awake? 

“Oh! Uh, hey... Sorry, Satoru, did I wake you?” I suddenly felt way more nervous. 

“Nah, I’ve been up for a bit working. How about you, though? Everything okay?” He questioned, clearly curious to why I’d called him at 4am. 

“Um...” I trailed off, voice a bit uneasy, “Sorry for calling this early, it’s just my phone’s been blowing up so I woke up, and then I just had to call you when I saw what’s happening online...” I rambled, beginning to slide out of bed and pace around my bedroom. 

“What’s happening online?” Satoru asked, sounding completely clueless. 

“Uh, the pictures? There’s pictures floating around the internet of us kissing in front of the yacht club yesterday morning...” I explained. He didn’t know?  

“Oh, there are? Huh.” Satoru didn’t sound phased by this information at all. 

“And it’s blowing up online! There’s like, thousands of people stalking my page and dropping random comments on my old posts about it. Just random shit about us, and there’s some wacky shit directed to me, specifically!” I rubbed the back of my neck anxiously as I paced. 

“Damn, I didn’t expect this would happen this soon...” 

“You expected it??” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a little bit. Would’ve been nice to get a little heads up... 

“Well, yes and no. To be honest, I don’t usually date so publicly. The last time I did, many years ago, stuff like this happened all the time.” 

“Couldn’t you at least have warned me or something beforehand...?” I’m sure my tone sounded a little frustrated. I was trying to keep my composure about the situation and hear Satoru out, but it didn’t really seem like he empathized with what I was going through at all... 

“Sorry, Lena, it was the furthest thing from my mind.” Satoru’s tone sounded sincere, but I still felt thrown off from this whole situation, “But, don’t think about that, babe. Just ignore them.” 

I turned my face a bit at his response—as if it was that simple to let go of the countless things people were saying about you, “Satoru, it’s not that easy... I mean, have you seen all the shit people are saying about me? There’s gotta be damn near a thousand comments!” 

“Oh, I haven’t been on social media since high school. My publicist handles my accounts. I learned pretty early that shit really starts to mess with your head if you’re on it for too long.” Satoru sounded a bit aloof, even over the phone, like he was talking to an interviewer and not the girl he was dating. 

I was confused, “Okay, but I don’t have a publicist, or an assistant. I handle my own accounts.” I was starting to get irritated now, “I didn’t have the luxury of having one—especially when I was fresh out of high school and my dad no longer legally had to support me. I had to scrape to market myself, find jobs on my own and work my way up in the car manufacturing industry... It wasn’t until recently that I was able to afford to streamline some of the work I do, and social media’s never been an issue for me, well, not until now.” 

There was a short pause, and then I heard Satoru take a breath before speaking, “Wait—I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind’s kinda split this morning with this project I’ve been... Never mind that. I apologize. I should’ve mentioned that something like this might happen, and taken the steps to get ahead of it.” He exhaled, “How’s this; why don’t we meet for lunch today to talk some more? I can even come to you, if you don’t have much time.” 

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my nerves; Satoru’s apology had helped cool me off some, “Okay. Yeah, lunch would be good.” I finally stopped pacing, moving my hand that wasn’t holding my phone to my forehead to swoop my hair back, “There’s some things we should talk about, I guess.” I trapped the corner of my lower lip between my teeth at the sort of uncomfortable air around our current conversation. There were definitely some things I wanted to ask him, at the very least. Like why was Satoru suddenly so okay with dating publicly after meeting me? 

“Alright, then.” Satoru said conclusively. 

There was a long silence that followed, neither of us sure of what to say next. But the obvious thought remained. We shouldn’t’ve had to deal with all this after only one freaking date. 

“Look, Lena, I really like you. And I don’t wanna fuck this up. Let’s talk and get this situation cleared up so we can go back to having fun and getting to know one another, ‘kay?” 

“Okay.” I finally managed a small smile, taking another deep breath. 

“As far as social media—maybe mute the apps for today. I’ll get a social strategist from my team to look into the situation and see how we can go about protecting your accounts.” 

I began to protest, “Oh you don’t have to do that—” 

“I insist.” Satoru cut in, “As long as you’re dating me, you shouldn’t have to worry about handling these things by yourself. You shouldn’t have to worry at all, about anything, really.” 

And there he was, the sweet Satoru whose words and actions made me blush and my heart flutter... I sat down on the end of my bed, nudging my toes into the soft, plush rug beneath my feet, “...Okay.” I finally agreed, a small smile on my face. 

“Now, get some rest, Lena. Sorry that all of this disturbed your sleep.” 

“It’s fine.” There was a part of me that wished I could fall back asleep in Satoru’s arms, like I had last night, “You should get some sleep, too!” 

“It’s alright, I’ve got some work to do for this project this morning. Plus, I don’t need to sleep much, anyways.” 

“If you say so.” Though I wasn’t nearly as straight-forward as Satoru when it came to expressing feelings, I wanted to make him feel wanted, too. My smile grew into a warm smirk before I spoke again, “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you at lunch...” I aimlessly fiddled with the duvet on my bed. 

“Yeah?” I heard Satoru’s tone soften considerably, his smile practically audible through the way he’d asked the word alone, “I’m glad to hear it. I’m always excited to see you.” Just like that, he one-upped me so effortlessly. 

I giggled to his words and the sexual implications of them, seeing as I’d already had a few run-ins with Satoru’s hard-on. 

“Hey...! Get your mind outta the gutter. I meant that in a nice, respectable way.” Satoru said matter-of-factly. 

I laughed and teased back, “You said it first!” 

“Well, maybe not just respectable...” Satoru trailed off, but then suddenly tore himself from his own line of thought, “Alright, that’s it. Goodbye, Lena, before you get me worked up.” 

“Night, Satoru.” My laugh lowered back into a giggle. 

“Goodnight, beautiful.” 

~ 

Since the internet had woken me up before sunrise, I’d decided to head into Okamoto’s HQ early as well, and was grateful for the bit of peace and quiet the near-empty building provided—outside of the occasional custodian staff member who would simply greet me.

But now closer to 9am, the more my production and mechanic team members entered the office, the more of them asked me about the Satoru situation. How the hell had everyone found out so fast, anyways? Was there a city-wide alert or something?? Okay, I was exaggerating in my thoughts, but this attention was still ridiculous. You’d think I was running for fucking prime minister.

I was currently tucked behind the desktop computer monitors in my office, following up on emails from the carbon fiber manufacturing group in Kyoto to ask them questions about the material specifics and safety. I suddenly saw Jin walk by the glass door in his racing mechanics suit—probably headed to the vehicle production building.

“Morning, Lena.” He opened the door and poked his head into my office, an amused look on his face.

“Hey, Jin.” I kept focused on and typed away on my keyboard, still a little overwhelmed from this whole dating rumor situation.

“You’re dating Satoru Gojo?” Jin’s amused look grew into an intrigued smirk. This was at least the seventh time I’d gotten the question in the last hour.

“Oh my god, not you, too…” I paused in my typing to drop my face into my hands, releasing a sigh.

“And you didn’t tell me??” He grinned, obviously interested in the gossip.

“One date! We only went on one date, okay…?!” I sat back up to exclaim, exasperated.

Jin raised his hands, “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard! Wait, was that why you were almost late to the test drive a few days ago?”

“No!” I quickly replied, then actually thought aloud for a moment, “Well, not really…”

“Ooo, Lena…!” Jin teased me, grade-school style, “You better be careful hanging around big shot rich boys like that.” He chuckled, beginning to walk away from my office door, “Then again, it might just be good PR for Okamoto Group!”

I groaned dramatically and dropped my forehead onto the flat of my desk, “Ugh, leave me alone!”

“See you at the production status meeting later!”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time this morning, suddenly feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. I reluctantly retrieved it from my mechanic suit pocket, eyes widening to the Instagram direct message notification on my screen.

Francesco De Luca… my ex, and the Lamborghini Chief Designer I’d met almost five years ago at a F1 race on England’s Knockhill track. It was back when I was on the Ferrari team, still working my way up the mechanics and design ranks and making a name for myself in the industry.

I hadn’t heard from him in two years, not since the day he’d broken up with me when I told him I was returning to Tokyo. He’d let anger take over him after I told him the news, and had brushed off our two and a half years together like it was nothing. Needless to say, I was heartbroken for months; but I eventually had to move on and took it as my sign to start over at home in Tokyo. No dating, no boyfriends, no nothing—just work. I was turned off and frightened by the idea of dating, in fact. Well, until Satoru had randomly dropped himself into my life, that was.

Why was he DMing me on Instagram? I opened the message.

Though I’d finally managed to get over him a year ago, his message still made my stomach sink. What. The. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with men?! Why did they always love to pop up, as soon as you moved on to someone new??!? There was no questioning it. He’d definitely heard the news online about me and Satoru. I wanted to curse him out—for this bullshit, and for everything he’d done to me. For never answering any of my calls, for abandoning me when I was so anxious about returning home, even though I was excited for the big, new position at my family’s company. For brushing me off and erasing me from his life like we hadn’t been together for nearly three years. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!!!

I didn’t even realize I hadn’t blocked him on my socials. I typed back my brief reply before hitting the block button, somehow managing to hold back all the fire and anger I was more than ready to hurl his way.

~ 

Now 12:01pm, I strode into the restaurant just a few blocks down from the Okamoto headquarters—a steakhouse named Gyushi that normally was buzzing with business professionals from the surrounding buildings at this time. I now wore a taupe blazer that had pronounced shoulder pads and accentuated my shape, and a matching miniskirt with black sheer tights underneath. My curls were fastened up in a high braided ponytail, and my small black stilettos lightly clacked against the black and white marble floor when I walked in. It was then I realized that the restaurant was completely empty. Shit—were they closed today? Then why was the door open? 

A shorter man in uniform approached me just then, “Ms. Okamoto?” 

“Yes.” 

“Welcome to Gyushi. Mr. Gojo is already here. Allow me to escort you to your table.” 

“Oh, thank you.” I nodded, curving up the corners of my lips in a polite smile. 

I looked around the western style steakhouse as I followed the man through the front and towards the back; I’d never seen it this empty before... Were they remodeling? We made our way through the spacious restaurant, and eventually I spotted the head of white hair at a plush booth in the center of the back area—an area of the place which I’d never seen, let alone eaten in. Normally I could only grab a seat at the bar in the front for lunch; and trying to book a reservation for dinner? Forget about it. 

The man in uniform bowed his head once we arrived at the booth, “A waiter will come by shortly to get your drink order, and anything else you’d like to start with. Please enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” I matched the man’s small bow, then turned my attention to Satoru who was already standing up, “Hey, you.” My smile grew when my eyes met his. I looked him over once, appreciating the tailored fit of his navy blue and thin white striped suit as I approached him. 

“Hey, Lena, you look great.” Satoru’s eyes traced over my body as well, smirking. He opened his arms, and I joined him in a tight hug, watching him bend down to plant his usual, quick peck on my cheek. Satoru kept his arms locked around my waist but backed up his head a bit to get a better look at me, “You doing okay?” His thumbs rubbed over the fabric at my lower back. 

“I mean, crazy morning but yeah, I’m managing.” I said a bit dramatically yet truthfully, smiling up at Satoru. 

Satoru grumbled low and playfully, eyes moving up from my lips to meet my gaze again, “Hm, I’d rather you were relaxing.” 

I giggled lightly, “It’s fine.” I made a bold move, for me, and stretched up to press a small kiss to Satoru’s cheek. 

Satoru’s eyes softened and he responded by bending down and pressing his lips to mine in a long kiss. He always seemed to one-up me when it came to sweet gestures—even in this romantic way, he was competitive and could never just let me win. 

We sat down in the booth after we pulled apart, and my eyes flickered to the menu before me on the table. I’d only ever seen the short list of lunch specials, not the full menu. 

“You been here before?” Satoru asked, picking up his menu opposite me and skimming through it. 

“Yeah, for lunch. Crazy, it’s usually packed to the brim around this time of day...” I trailed off, looking around the wide-open dining area, “I wonder why it’s empty.” 

Satoru gently placed his menu back down and met my gaze with his own, “The place is ours for the next hour.” He clarified, “I wanted to make sure we could talk privately without anyone butting in—especially with all the media buzz around us this morning.” He said so simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Oh...!” I said, eyes slightly widened in surprise. He reserved the entire steakhouse for us?? With only a few hours' notice?! I was just really starting to see the breadth of the Gojo family’s influence. I mean I’d been trying to get a dinner reservation here for the past two years with no luck! 

Satoru quirked a brow, curious to the expression on my face, “Is that alright?” 

I quickly nodded over and over, still a little shocked, “Oh, yes, of course!” Act cool, Lena. I settled back into the comfy leather booth, picking up my tall menu card to hide my blushing. My eyes scanned through the long list of starters and entrees with no prices. 

“You want anything to start?” Satoru asked and I slid my menu down, so my eyes peeked over the top. 

“Um, I don’t know, everything looks so good.” I finally placed my menu back down on the table when my cheeks no longer felt as warm, biting the inside of my lip. 

“I’m pretty hungry.” Satoru noted, “If I got the chilled grand plateau for two, would you share it with me?” 

My eyes spotted the appetizer on the menu; it was a chilled platter with lobster tails, grilled clams, shrimp cocktail and oysters on the half shell. I gulped at the sound of it all. Seafood was my favorite food, “Yeah, that looks delicious. I’d have some.” I said calmly, trying to hide my excitement. 

“What do you like to drink here?” Satoru continued to scan his menu, flipping it over to check out the cocktails. 

“Well, I usually don’t since I’ve only come for lunch and typically have to go back to work after, but the highball spritzer mocktail is yummy.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Just as Satoru spoke, a waitress with short black hair approached our booth. 

“Hi, I’m Mai. I’ll be your server for today.” Her face looked strangely familiar... Almost like Maki Zenin, the young F1 driver who’d shown quite some promise over the past year, “Can I start you with anything?” She turned to Satoru first. 

“We’ll start with the grand plateau, and two highball spritzers. Thank you.” 

The girl nodded once and started to move back towards the kitchen. 

Gojo turned his attention back to me, “So, how are you really doing, since this morning? Any updates?” 

“Uh, well, nothing too crazy since I muted the apps—just a few friends and people I work with texting, calling, and asking me about it.” I rubbed my hands together, then neatly interlocked my fingers on the table in front of me. My ex, too. I thought, but Satoru didn’t need to know all that. 

Satoru hummed, half-frowning, “I’m sorry this happened like this. I should’ve known better.” He shook his head to himself, “I guess it’d been so long since I’d dated, let alone publicly, I wasn’t even thinking about that.” 

“It’s ok—it's not like you’re the one who posted the pictures everywhere. When is the last time you dated?” I asked, curious. 

Satoru crossed his arms over his chest, thoughtfully, “Like, seriously tried to pursue someone? Maybe... three years ago?” 

“Wow, that is a long time.” My eyes widened to Satoru’s revelation. It was longer than me. If that was true, then I could definitely understand him forgetting about his obsessive fanbase and the nature of celebrity gossip in Tokyo. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done other things in the meantime, but yeah, the last time I seriously dated someone was years ago.” 

“Why’s that? And what do you mean by other things?” I asked, clueless. I picked up the glass of water closest to me and began to take a sip. 

Satoru shrugged, “Just no time, really. Or, maybe unconsciously I was too focused on work and didn’t want to make time for it. And by ‘other things’ I mean casual sex.” 

I nearly choked on my water but cleared my throat instead, taking a quick sip from my glass before setting it back down. Of course he was sexually active. Of course that was what he meant by ‘other things,’ “Oh... right.” I nodded. 

Satoru watched me with intrigue, the corners of his mouth just barely curving upwards, “What about you? When’s the last time you dated?” 

“Two years ago. It was before I moved back here.” I explained, playing with the stem of my water glass. 

Satoru cocked his head to one side, arms still crossed, “Relationship?” I nodded in response to his question. He swiftly asked another, “Did you love him?” 

I blinked a few times to the intimate nature of the question, a bit thrown off guard, “Uh, yeah. I don't think he did, though…” I said honestly, “Did you... love the last person you dated?” I looked back up at Satoru. 

He simply shook his head, “It was someone my parents wanted for me, so it didn’t work out.” 

I nodded, unable to help biting my lip at the silence that followed the last of Satoru’s words. I finally spoke up, remembering what I wanted to say, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” Satoru said, unfolding his thick arms and gently resting them on the table. 

“Why are you okay with dating me publicly, but not the other girls you dated in the past?” I wanted to know his reasoning. Why was he okay with being seen with me, and why was he initially incognizant of how people and the media would react? 

Satoru leaned over the table, extending his hand to me. In response, I reached forward to place my hand in his. He really was the touchy type—I wouldn’t be surprised if his top love language was physical touch. Well, nearly every man’s top love language was. Was Satoru touchy, or was I just unused to all of this? Some part of me had a feeling it was mostly the latter. We were dating, after all; the only difference was, he was used to more intimate touching, while I hadn’t done it in two years. 

Satoru smiled at me admiringly as he spoke, “Lena, you’re smart... beautiful... kind... and you care about your work, just as much as I care about my own. I’m okay with dating you publicly, because you’re the woman I want to be seen with. No offense to the others I’ve dated and been unsure about, and I know things are still fresh and new between us, but I know that much—that I haven’t met anyone like you before.” Satoru paused, “Sorry I didn’t say all of this before, but I don’t think I even consciously knew how I felt until I really thought about it this morning. It’s only been four days since we met, after all.” He grinned. 

“Yeah,” I exhaled, smile growing, “it feels like it’s been much longer.” I admitted, propping my free arm up on the table to rest my chin in my palm. I slid my hand up to cover my mouth and cheeks, already blushing again. 

“Glad I’m not alone.” Satoru mirrored my expression, blue eyes softening as he gazed over me. His fingers began to gently knead at mine, “You shouldn’t hide your face so much, you know.” He added, and his voice sounded completely different, like there was no one else in this restaurant but us. 

I allowed my hand that was covering my lips and cheeks to slip back down to the white tablecloth, bashfully revealing my face once more. Just then, or waitress returned with our drinks. We let go of each other’s hands, giving the girl room to place our mocktails on the table, “Two highball spritzers... And your appetizer will be out soon.” She nodded once and departed again. 

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, while Satoru still kept his eyes on me. I wondered what he was thinking about? From the look in his eyes, it wasn’t anything family friendly. I took a sip of my mocktail, and Satoru did the same. 

“This is pretty good.” He noted, looking down at the glass, “Almost tastes like soda. Oh—” He seemed to remember something, “there’s a publicist I want you to meet; she’s a social media expert, too. Name’s Nobara Kugisaki. We briefly chatted earlier, but it seems like the situation on your social accounts is something she can easily fix by deleting and limiting comments from people you aren’t following. She had some more recommendations, too. If you want, I could give her your info...” 

“Yeah, that’s... probably a good idea.” I fidgeted with my fingers for a moment, “That would be great. Thanks, Satoru.” 

“You’re the Style VP of one of the biggest luxury sports car companies in the country, let alone world—you should have a publicist. Geez, I can’t imagine all the work you’ve had to do on your own these past few years.” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, sifting through media opps on my own has taken a lot more time since I got my role, almost feels like a job on its own, sometimes.” 

“That’s because it is.” Satoru pulled out his phone and began to tap around before typing something, “I’m sending her your number. She should give you a call later today so you can connect on next steps.” 

“Thanks, Satoru, for doing all this...” I smiled over at him, and he looked up from his phone to wink at me. 

 “Of course, babe. It’s the least I can do.” He paused, continuing to type out a message before seemingly hitting send and locking his phone again, “Now, with that settled... We still on for our date this weekend?” Satoru grinned. 

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Oh my god, you and this date!” I smiled and shook my head, “Yes, we’re still on.” 

Satoru silently cheered to himself, then responded, “Anything you’re in the mood for?” 

“Well, I did just get this outdoor pizza oven at my place in Yamanashi... Wanna come over and test it out? Plus, I’d really like to look at my new Nakamura painting there some more...” I trailed off, alluding to the piece he’d bought me on our first date; even though its insane cost of 521 million yen was nothing to Satoru, it meant a lot to me. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much.” Satoru smiled sincerely, before taking another sip of his mocktail, “Would rather you were looking at me though.” He winked before taking another sip. 

I rolled my eyes, dropping my face into my hands dramatically, “You and these cheesy fucking lines... Stop it!” I laughed. 

~ 

Later that week, on Friday night to be specific, I made sure to take off work exactly at six so I could grab a few things from the grocery store before heading to grandpa’s place: apple cider, cinnamon sticks, and barrel-aged whisky—the three main components of his favorite fall time cocktail. After a day of reviewing the new Okamoto model’s safety checks with the legal team at work, I’d changed out of my usual business clothes and into a comfy, myrtle green, silk midi skirt and a slightly lighter mock neck sweater. 

When I arrived at grandpa’s, I pulled into the short driveway. Even with all of his wealth, not only as the past CEO of Okamoto group but as a retired F1 driver himself, grandpa was never one to live grandly. He enjoyed simplicity, saving money, fine-tuning his cars in the garage, and enjoying the retired life in his tight-knit neighborhood’s community. I parked my sky blue, 1968 Lamborghini Miura S and hopped out with my tote bag of cocktail supplies slung over my shoulder, fishing for my key to grandpa’s place as I shut the heavy car door behind me. 

“Grandpa, I’m home!” I called from the entryway when I opened his front door, quirking a brow upwards when I didn’t hear a reply, “Grandpa...?” Maybe he was in the garage? I walked down the hall and towards the kitchen, breathing a little sigh of relief when I heard the familiar metal clink of a tire rim coming from the room just behind it. I dropped my bags on the countertop and headed towards the stream of warm light pouring out from the open door to the garage. It was a big, open space—perhaps larger than the rest of the house combined. It was a ten-car garage with all the tools, gear, and vintage tech a car nerd could dream of. I spotted him in a small folding chair beside the front passenger tire, fastening a lug nut onto it. I furrowed my brows in concern, “Grandpa...! You’re not supposed to be bending like that!” I put my hands on my hips, disapprovingly. 

“Hey, Lena-chan—perfect timing!” He stood from his seated and bent position next to the tire, a long, metal lug nut wrench in his hand, “Help your old man out, would you?” 

I pouted as I approached my grandfather, but hugged him tight, regardless, “Hi, grandpa. You should’ve waited for me to get here! The doctor told you not to strain your back, you know.” I reminded him, offering him an accusatory point before retrieving the wrench from his hand. He was a few inches shorter than me with short gray hair and a small beer belly, and he currently wore an old, slightly oily mechanic’s jumpsuit. I hiked my skirt up a little, and moved the chair away from the old, cherry-colored 1971 Okamoto H7 model as I didn’t need it. I knelt on one knee and tightly fastened the remaining lug nut before checking and tightening the ones on the other tires, “Did you fasten all of these by yourself??” 

“I’m fine, Lena-chan. Your grandpa’s not that old!” The man laughed heartily, and the way his deep dimples and wrinkles curved up into a full-face smile made my heart warm. No matter where I found myself, if I was away from home then I was always missing him. 

I pointed the long end of the wrench in my grandpa’s direction, “If you don’t take it easy, I’m gonna change the locks to your garage!” My pout grew. 

Grandpa raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay! I promise to take it easy. Now, more importantly, did you bring the goodies?” He clasped his hands together with a grin. 

“Mhm, all the ingredients for our special cider!” I nodded, putting the wrench back in its place on a nearby worktable. I wiped my hands off with a rag that rested on the corner of it. 

"Let’s get to it, then!” 

A little later, we sat on the couch in front of the western style fireplace with mugs of spiked apple cider in our hands. Remote in his free hand, Grandpa flipped through the various movie channels on the TV that was mounted up above the fire. He passed through various movie channels but paused when I rested my head on his shoulder, tired and already feeling the alcohol settle throughout my body. I realized that I hadn’t drank in a while, and that I was exhausted—even after a half-week of work, “Grandpa? Can I stay here for the night?” I nudged his shoulder with my cheek. 

Grandpa put the remote down on his lap and wrapped his arm around me, eyes currently fixed on an old western movie that played on the large screen before us, “Of course you can stay. It’s your home.” He stroked my hair with his hand, and I put my mug down on the coffee table before us to wrap my arms around him comfortably. 

Before I’d gone to boarding school for high school, Grandpa’s place had become a real home to me since I was a kid. I’d found myself in constant fights with my dad and stepfamily growing up, so much so that grandpa decided to take me in. Grandpa had been there when my nightmares were at their worst, too, always there to scoop me up into his arms and soothe me back to sleep after the painful memories of losing my mom and of my father’s fits of anger tormented me. Grandpa was the closest thing I had to a dad. In fact, after legally being my guardian for some time, teaching me everything he knew, and caring for me when no one else would, he truly was. 

Grandpa put his mug down on the table next to mine and picked up the remote again, continuing to scroll through the channels until he passed a local celebrity news channel—the image of Satoru and I kissing plastered all over the big screen. I jumped upright and made a noise of surprise at the image on the local channel, jaw dropping to the sight of a celebrity news reporter talking about the situation. 

“-the steamy picture seems to have been taken in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club, and features Okamoto Group Chief Designer and VP of Style, Lena Okamoto, mid-kiss with Satoru Gojo. Gojo fans all over the internet have buzzing about these photos, primarily wondering if this is Tokyo's most eligible bachelor’s new girlfriend. What do you think? Tweet us your thoughts at—” 

“Agh!!” I reached over and clicked the channel button in grandpa’s hand, quickly flipping it to some variety TV show on the one following. 

I looked over at grandpa, then threw my face into my hands, embarrassed. Even without looking, I could feel his direct eyes on me. He was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke up, “You think I haven’t heard about you and the Gojo kid?” He asked simply. 

I sat up again, dropping my hands to my lap and returning my gaze to grandpa, “You... you know about this?” 

“It’s all everyone’s been talking to me about.” Grandpa scoffed out a quick laugh, “You wouldn’t believe the people who’ve called to ask me about that in the past few days...” He trailed off. 

“People have been asking you about it??” I suddenly felt anxious. 

“Just some old connections, and friends from Okamoto Group.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “You think ‘cause I’m old I don’t keep up with the latest news? You two are quite the talk of the city right now.” 

I groaned and leaned back into the sofa, allowing my head to roll back on it so that I was looking up at the ceiling, “This is crazy...!” 

“I was just wondering when you were going to tell me about this. You used to always talk to me about your boyfriends and such.” He half-frowned, seemingly disappointed about being left out of the loop—except I’d never intended him to be. Things were just too new with Satoru! 

I straightened up once more, looking at grandpa, “That’s because he’s not even my boyfriend! We’ve only been on one date! Of course, I would’ve told you if it was serious.” 

Grandpa retrieved his mug from the table, “Well, you already know what I have to say about it. I don’t care who the guy is; if he hurts you, then I have to kill him.” He simply shrugged before taking a long swig of spiked cider. 

I rolled my eyes and laughed once, “Oh my god, grandpa... Please be serious.” 

“What do you mean? I’m completely serious.” Grandpa blinked, having said the words without emotion. 

Grandpa simply stared at me, and I, back at him. Then, we abruptly busted out laughing. 

He placed his hand on my shoulder as our laughing died down, “But Lena-chan, I know how you can get about these sorts of things. I know you’re an introverted person, and this situation with the Gojo kid is probably a shock for you, but you can’t let these people get to you. People will always want something or someone to gossip about. It’s up to you to live your life confidently without any reservations. The best thing you can do in these kinds of situations, situations where it seems like everyone has something to say, is to be successful—to be your very best self.” 

I nodded to grandpa’s words, staring aimlessly into the space before me after he finished talking to think for a moment. Then I turned back to him, “But what about the board? What if all this news impacts my job?” 

“Something this small?” Grandpa crossed his arms again and shook his head, “It won’t. If anything, all this talk about you is good for the business. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw a spike in vehicle sales soon. Trust me, people much higher in leadership have given our family company far worse press.” 

I knew exactly who he was talking about. Toji. Though Toji was undefeated in his business endeavors whenever he actually was working, his issues were the situations he found himself in after working hours, “That’s true.” I agreed, reaching over to retrieve my cup once more to take a sip. 

“So, when am I going to meet Satoru Gojo?” 

“Grandpa!” 

“What?? I just want to give him a stern talking-to.” 

I shook my head, laughing softly, “Don’t try to scare him off yet, we’ve only had one date! I’ll bring him over and introduce him only when we’re serious... If things become serious, that is.” 

“If he can’t take the heat then he’s no good for you anyways.” Grandpa shrugged, “But seriously, Lena-chan, as long as he treats you like the princess you are, then he’s alright with me.” He nodded with finality, then cleared his throat, “But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” 

“Grandpa!” I guffawed. 

~ 

 The following night I found myself diligently organizing pizza ingredients into small bowls on my long kitchen island, my homemade pizza dough already portioned out, proofed, and stretched over two personal sized pizza pans for Satoru and me. I kept the toppings fairly simple: marinara, fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, prosciutto, chicken, caramelized onions, and grated parmesan. I’d popped a bottle of dry red sangiovese for myself, and even managed to find a sweet, non-alcoholic red for Satoru from a specialty bar in Yamanashi.

I’d checked the entire house at least four times by now, making sure that there were a few scented candles lit around the wide living room and kitchen area, and that the old record player was lowly buzzing and crackling with jazz music from my Italian grandma’s favorite—the Live John Coltrane Newport ’63 album. Everything was in its place, or, as much as it could be, seeing as the renovations on the back deck were still a work in progress. I took a long sip of sangiovese to calm my nerves, swirling the remaining liquid around in my wine glass after and biting my bottom lip. I couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. I hadn’t organized a date in years, let alone invited a man to my place in Yamanashi before. Maybe, in that way, I was a lot like Satoru when it came to his favorite boat. But it was a cozy date at my house, and my period had ended a few days ago, now, so… What if we ended up having se—

The sound of the doorbell jolted me from my thoughts, and I put my glass down on the countertop before making my way toward the front entrance in a maxi, light sepia lounge dress and long taupe cardigan that were both soft to the touch. I smoothed out the material one last time before opening the door with a smile, “Hi.”

“Hey, Lena.” Satoru leaned coolly against the entryway with his arm propped up above him, wearing a brown, knitted crewneck sweater with a simple white t-shirt underneath, and loose-fitting, dark brown, and pleated corduroy trousers with black tabi boots. He had a huge and carefully arranged bouquet of white orchids in his hand that he extended to me, “These are for you. They say orchids are good for new homes, and I thought that since you’re renovating the place…”

“Oh my god, thank you, Satoru! I love white flowers.” My smile grew as he passed me the bouquet and I took a deep inhale, “Come in!”

I embraced Satoru in a hug after he slipped off his boots in the genkan area by the door, stretching up on my tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He hugged me and pecked my cheek back in return, pausing to appreciate the fabric of my lounge dress after doing so, “Oh, this is nice… I like it.” Satoru rubbed up and down my back and sides with an intrigued hum and I giggled to his exploring hands.

“Thank you. You look handsome, too.” I smiled sweetly, and we finally broke apart, “You want a little tour before we make pizzas?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, let me put these in some water first.” I walked back toward the kitchen, fetching the pair of green stem trimmers out of a drawer in the kitchen island, and a large ceramic vase from a cabinet underneath the sink. I set all of the supplies on the table and turned back to Satoru to find him sitting down on one of the highchairs on the opposite side of island counter, “Want something to drink? There’s…” I picked up the unopened specialty bottle I’d gotten for Satoru to jog my memory, “a non-alc, sweet red wine, if you wanna try some.”

“Thanks, babe, you didn’t have to get a special bottle for me. But yeah, I’d love some.”

“I’m part Italian, you know. My mom and grandma would turn in their graves if I served you pizza without any wine.” I opened the twist cap and poured out a small serving into the bulbous, wide rimmed glass that matched mine, sliding it across the granite counter for Satoru to try, “Let me know what you think.”

Satoru poked his nose into the opening of the glass to take a light sniff, then took a small sip and paused before quickly downing the rest of the bit of liquid. He set the glass back down, “Damn, that’s good… Tastes like juice!”

“I’m glad you like it.” I smiled, before pouring him a more generous serving. I moved on to the orchids after, filling the vase with a little water then beginning to trim each of the thick ends of the flowers’ stems.

“How was your day so far?” Satoru asked before taking another sip of his drink.

“Pretty good, just was getting the house ready for this.” I clipped the end of a stem at the end of my words.

“All day?” Satoru rose a brow.

“Mhm, there’s been a lot of construction here over the past few months, so there was a lot of dust and stuff to clean up.”

“You don’t have to do all that for me.” Satoru said with a slightly contradicting, pleased smirk.

“Satoru, I’m not bringing you or anyone into a dirty house—which was why I was so caught off guard by the painting you sent me earlier this week. I mean, thankfully my study’s been in good condition, but still…” I shook my head, thinking of the crazy price point on that first date gift yet again, “But I love it, so thank you.” I said the last part with an endearing tone.

“You’re very welcome, Lena.” Satoru matched my tone but with a much lower voice.

“What about you? How was your day?” I continued snapping away at the ends of the flowers, curling my mouth a bit as I struggled with one particular stem that felt hard as steel.

“It was good, did a little work then—” Satoru was cut off when I finally trimmed the end of one of the orchids; the piece of stem immediately went flying in the air and hit him square in the forehead, “Ow.”

Though it had been a complete accident, I couldn’t help the deep, honest laugh that followed when I saw the small red mark on Satoru’s head. I even pointed in his direction as I guffawed.

Satoru stood to his feet, beginning to grin, “Oh you think that’s funny?” He started to approach me, walking around the kitchen island, “You think that’s funny, Lena?” Satoru easily grabbed and lifted me up, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck to gently nibble at my skin there, “Attacking people with flower stems??”

“No…!” I giggled out with a big smile, nearly out of breath from laughing so much, “I didn’t mean to…!” I playfully fought back, wriggling around in Satoru’s grasp.

“You’ll pay for that!” Satoru lifted my hips up so that I sat on the counter closest to the wall, continuing to nibble at my neck and earlobe as he prodded and tickled me with his fingers.

I jerked around in Satoru’s hands, “Stop…! Haha, I can’t breathe!” I laughed out, but stopped when I noticed that Satoru had suddenly froze, his hands resting on my butt, “What’s—” I started, but Satoru jumped in.

Satoru backed his head up enough to look me in my eyes, “You’re not wearing any underwear…” It was definitely a statement, but Satoru had said the words more like a question. Then it dawned on me: The fabric of my lounge dress was thin; he could probably easily feel my bare skin just beneath it…

My entire face burned bright red to Satoru’s words. I wasn’t. But who could blame me? I’d been at the house all day and had honestly forgotten!

Satoru pressed his forehead to mine, voice turning deep and velvety, “You always walk around like that…?”

“N-No!” I stuttered out, embarrassed, yet intoxicated by the way Satoru spoke.

“Or is it just for me?” Satoru cooed shameless and confidently, lips now ghosting over my ear. It was like he knew he was driving me crazy. He began to kiss my neck just below, gently licking and sucking there as soft moans fled my sighing mouth.

Somehow, against my own physical desires, I managed to tap Satoru’s shoulder for him to stop, “T-Tour…! The tour!” I gasped out. I spoke again when I caught my breath, “Let me show you the house.” I tucked my curls behind my ear, still blushing profusely. I shifted my legs as well, feeling a familiar, wetness between them when I moved.

Satoru broke away, now looking into my eyes with his piercing blue, and very visibly turned on as his breathing had grown slightly deeper, “Sure. Yeah, let’s see the place.” He nodded a bit mindlessly, still sort of regaining his composure.

I hopped off the counter and took Satoru’s hand, leading him to the next room, “Come with me.” I smirked, looking over my shoulder at him.

About an hour or so later, Satoru and I had ended the house tour in my study; with me admiring the Nakamura painting with my glass of wine in hand, and Satoru at my desk checking out my car design sketch book. We’d paused for a quick pizza break as well, and while I’d decided on marinara, mozzarella, prosciutto, parmesan and basil for my toppings, Satoru had fished the barbeque sauce out of my fridge to create a barbecue chicken pizza with mozzarella and caramelized onions on top—a choice I’d initially refused to try at first, especially as a pizza purist, but ended up taking a bite of anyways. The new pizza oven on the back patio must’ve had magic in it, because every pizza that that we put in it came out absolutely delicious.

“These are fucking amazing.” Satoru noted, before flipping a page in my sketchbook, “How the hell do you even think up this kinda stuff?” He looked up from the desk at me.

I shrugged, then took another sip of sangiovese.

Satoru put down the sketch pad, then stood up to approach a glass-lined bookcase filled with black binders, each labeled with different car model names. They weren’t all Okamoto cars, either. There were a number of Porsche, Lamborghini, Ferrari, Maserati, Mercedes, BMW, Corvette, Bugatti, Toyota, and Alfa Romeo ones as well, and they all totaled to about 75 binders, “What’s all this?” Satoru asked, picking up the 2022 Ferrari F8 Tributa binder with white lining and flipping through it.

“Those are some of my favorite car models, organized by make and in order by my personal most to least favorites. Each binder has full engine and body mechanics mockups, notes, and news clippings; and the black binders with white lining are ones I’ve worked on. I strode a little close to Satoru, looking over his shoulder as he flipped through the laminated pages. A few of the pages were even scrapbook-style, featuring cute mementos like article clippings from F1 races and ‘eureka’ moment-esque physics equations my team and I had scribbled down on pub napkins after hours. After all the pages with engine and car images, the last page in this binder featured a polaroid picture of me and my old mechanics production team at Ferrari, signed with everyone’s names and farewell messages written all over the page in Italian. In the black and white image, we were all beside the Autodromo Nazionale Monza track, and the team had snapped a picture of us all mid-laugh as they tossed me into the air above them.

Satoru chuckled at the sight of the picture of me laughing in my greasy racing mechanic suit, then turned to me with an admiring smile, “Lena, you’re amazing… You put all of these binders together yourself?”

I nodded shyly, as this sort of car model scrapbooking had become a personal passion and nerdy obsession of mine. Though I’d only started making the binders ten years ago, my goal was at least to have 500 of them by the time I was old and retired. I wanted enough black binders to fill an entire wall—not just a bookcase.

Satoru closed the binder and put it back, slowly turning to fully face me. His affectionate smile remained on his lips, and he reached out to gently retrieve the glass of wine in my hand before safely placing it on the desk beside us. He then pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms before raising one of his hands to stroke my cheek. I rested my hands on Satoru’s white t-shirt, his brown sweater now long tossed aside to the corner of the room as he’d accidentally gotten some barbecue sauce on it earlier. I felt his chest muscles ripple beneath his shirt when he slid his hand down my back, eyes peering directly down into mine as his fingers brushed over my cheek.

Satoru looked at me in a way that was so sweet, calm, and unflinching, making me realize I didn’t believe I’d ever been looked at so intimately in my life. And he was so handsome, with his messily styled yet neatly trimmed white locks of hair, piercing azure gaze, toned body, spotless skin, and chiseled jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, “You’re the smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

I tilted my head backwards to chuckle, “Oh, stop.” I was flattered but shook my head in disbelief.

“No, seriously, Lena…” Satoru tilted my had back down so that I was looking up at him once more, “I’ve never met a woman as passionate about something as you are. That passion for something you love… It looks so beautiful on you.” Satoru stroked his thumb over my cheek, and I felt my face redden at his words. They were the kind that pulled on my heartstrings.

I stretched up a little more, closing the space between us more as I closed my eyes, and Satoru dipped his head down to press his lips to mine, sharply inhaling through his nose as he immediately deepened our kiss into a wildly passionate one. I reciprocated his energy, beginning to feel just as impatient. Even though it was only our second official date, I felt I’d ignored my desires to touch and be touched by Satoru so many times that I’d lost count.

I wrapped my arms around Satoru’s neck, pulling him into me even further. Our kiss turned far more heated when Satoru slid his tongue into my mouth, both of his hands now slipping up and down the curves of my lightly covered waist. The fabric shifted up under his touch, and the combination of his hand movements with his kissing started to make my head spin. I took the opportunity to push my hands up underneath his shirt, appreciating the solid muscles of his chest and abdomen.

Satoru huffed out a short chuckle between open-mouthed kisses, tongue swirling around mine, “That’s not fair…” He teased lowly, sliding the hands that had been on my waist down to my ass before tightly squeezing my cheeks there.

I moaned into his mouth and felt desire pool in my abdomen. I wanted to be out of this dress already. It was too damn long and warm. Satoru planted kisses down my face to my chin, neck, then finally my shoulder, prodding his hot tongue over the skin there every so often. I had the feeling he was starting to learn that I really liked being kissed there. Maybe it was the way light moans squeezed their way up and out my throat every time his mouth was there.

With Satoru’s squeezing hands and skilled lips moving all over me, I began to pant to the lust that was taking over me. Somehow, I mustered up the strength to tell him for the first time what I really wanted, “Satoru, c-can we… move to my bedroom?”

“Baby, you can have whatever you want.” Satoru abruptly reached down to grab the backs of my thighs, pulling me up into his arms. I made a sound of surprise but smirked, quickly wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders to regain some balance. Satoru easily walked us out of my study, down the hall, and into my bedroom, kissing me all the while. And instead of tossing me onto the bed and ripping his clothes off like I was typically used to, Satoru sat me down on the bed, sitting right beside me and joining our lips once more before tipping us back onto the bed.

Satoru hovered into the space above me, holding his weight in his forearms on either side of my head as he kissed me hungrily. He broke away after a moment, resting back on his knees in the space before me on the bed so that he could watch my every movement. His hands found my bare ankles and he raised them just a bit, slowly opening up my legs so that the fabric of my lounge dress slid up my smooth thighs, “So pretty…” Satoru’s eyes and attention then fully fixed themselves on the space between my legs, licking his lips and only looking back up into my eyes to ask me something, “Can I touch you…?” He asked, voice turning deep and sultry as he slid one of his hands up my inner thigh.

“Yes, please.” I begged in a small voice with a quick nod.

Gojo’s left hand continued to slowly slip up my inner thigh until he finally reached my pussy, long fingers finding the small nub of flesh before rubbing with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. I jerked on the bed a little, brows pushing together with a small wince. But Satoru immediately adjusted his pressure, easing up into small, gentle circles around my clit. My body quickly eased in response, and I sighed, beginning to feel the pleasure from his movements.

“You’re really sensitive, huh, Lena?” Satoru said lowly, voice pure velvet, “And wet…” He noted, settling himself down on the bed at my left side. He rested on his side as he rubbed me, watching my every expression and movement as I laid on my back. I looked down at his thick, toned arm between my legs, fingers rubbing, circling, and gently pinching my clit in a practiced sort-of-way that made my breath catch in my throat.

“Look at me, baby.” Satoru asked and I immediately complied, turning my head to look at him beside me, “How long have you been this wet? There’s no way you’re this drenched after a few minutes of kissing...” Satoru paused in his circling to retrieve his and from between my legs, showing me his wet fingers in the dim light of my bedroom, “See? Look…” He turned his hand around and slowly parted his index and middle fingers, a lewd string of my juices appearing and on full display.

I blushed and turned my eyes back to Satoru’s face, nearly whimpering my answer I was so turned on, “Since… you kissed me on the counter…” I panted out, honestly.

“Oh, beautiful… That was over an hour ago.” Satoru returned his hand to the spot between my legs, continuing to rub me gently, just how I liked, “You’ve wanted to be touched for that long?”

I nodded shyly.

“Say it.” Satoru’s attention lowered to my neck, and he slid my long curls away to kiss it. I moaned at the combination of his lips and fingers on my body.

“I’ve wanted you to touch me for so long…!” I nearly cried out, still only speaking just above a whisper.

“Fuck, Lena…” Satoru cursed, burying his face into the pillow beside my head, before turning to speak again, “I’m trying my fucking hardest to take things slow with you…” He pressed his lips to my ear to say the next part, “But every part of me craves you.” Satoru’s fingers continued to rub gentle circles around my clit and I moaned, rocking my hips up into his hand. He chuckled to this, teasingly pulling his hand back to leave me wanting. His hand slid up my thigh instead, pushing up the fabric even further, “Let’s get this off.”

I aided Satoru in removing my lounge dress, lifting my hips and pulling the fabric up and over my head. I do my best to push my long black curls away from my face that had been frazzled by taking off my clothes, only then realizing I was completely bare as the dress had a built-in bra. I watched Satoru slowly look my entire body over, before he mouthed the word ‘fuck.’

I suddenly felt a bit shy, as I was the only one naked while Satoru was still fully clothed, “Um, what about you?” I asked, looking up at him.

Satoru stroked my cheek, then allowed his hand to slide down my neck and chest, “Patience, Lena…” He cooed and leaned in to kiss my lips, down my neck, and to my chest—already grabbing handfuls of my breasts and taking turns licking and sucking each of my nipples.

“Mmh…!” I moaned abruptly to the new sensation, mind starting to spin from all the attention Satoru was paying to my body.

“God, you’re fucking perfect…” Satoru paused to look me up and down again, then his gaze lifted and directly met mine, “You got any toys here, babe?” He continued to hold my chest, thumbs circling over my hardened nipples.

I blinked to the question. A man had never asked me that before, “Uh, yeah. Just one… Why?”

Satoru immediately slipped off the bed and stood up, “Where?”

“Um, bottom drawer.” I tilted my head in the direction of the bedside dresser to my right, swallowing a bit nervously as I was unsure of what Satoru would do next.

Satoru dropped into a squat and opened the drawer, retrieving the only item that was in it—a clit sucking and stimulating device. He grinned when he grabbed the handle and brandished it at me, “You keep it this close, huh?”

I shrugged silently, cheeks still red.

Satoru returned to his spot right next to me on the bed, lying on his side once more before offering me the toy, “Show me how you do it.” He smirked.

I took the toy’s handle into my hand, then glanced up to meet Satoru’s eyes, “By myself?” I questioned, “But I want you to touch me…” I batted my eyelashes up at him, pleading.

“We have all night for that.” He stroked my cheek, brushing a curl away from my face, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’ll give you everything you want.”

I held the white button on the toy with my index and it softly buzzed to life. I turned its head downwards, closing my eyes as I placed the small silicone opening on my clit. I sighed in relief from the stimulation—though it wasn’t exactly what I wanted in this moment, it was something. I pressed the button again, increasing the toy’s vibration just slightly.

Though I had my eyes closed, I was sure that Satoru was watching me intently. His lips pressed to my ear and his tongue lapped over the shell of it, lewdly dipping in before sucking my earlobe, “Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby.” He breathed out, and his low voice made me twitch with excitement.

I propped my legs up on the bed, giving myself and the toy more access to my pussy. I furrowed my brows, mind going foggy at the pleasure I was receiving, “I don’t know…” I trailed off; though the last time I’d touched myself yesterday morning, it was the thought of Satoru’s hands that had sent me over the edge. He didn’t need to know that.

“Yes, you do.” Satoru nearly growled into my ear, “What, are you embarrassed? You can tell me…” He kissed just under my ear, then hotly lapped and sucked the skin at the crook of my neck. At this point, he was definitely going to leave a mark there.

I swallowed down the saliva that was pooling in my mouth, “Y-Your hands.” I admitted, blinking my eyes open to gaze at Satoru.

“Oh, these?” Satoru rose his brows and sat up so he could rub his hands over my legs and up my abdomen, all the way to my chest, “What about them?” He repeated his hand motions again, slowly stroking from my legs up to my breasts, “What do you think about them doing to you?”

I could feel my heart beat thickly in my chest. I bit my lip and remained silent, not really wanting to tell him about my licentious thoughts and desires. I was beginning to get lost in pleasure from the toy’s stimulation, anyhow.

Satoru paused in his rubbing and awaited my answer, then realized I wasn’t going to speak. In response, he swiftly reached down to retrieve the toy from between my legs and out of my grasp, “Now, that’s not fair,” Satoru started, half-frowning but only teasingly, “I’m part of your fantasies, but don’t even get to know how?”

I groaned out a whimper and shifted my hips on the bed, now that the source of my pleasure was gone. I pouted, already giving in, “Fine…!” I whined, speaking in a small voice, “I think about your hands… wrapping around my neck, and choking me.” I admitted and tucked my arms at my sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Satoru looked amused, like he wasn’t expecting me to say that. A wicked grin spread across his face, “Shit, babe. I thought you were gonna say something sweet like me holding you, or something…” He leaned close to me, gently placing his free hand around my neck. It was big and warm, and I could feel his thumb and index just barely press into the sides of it, “You’ve got a dirty mind, don’t you, Lena?” Satoru sighed out a single laugh, then returned the toy to the spot between my legs, causing me to jump a little when the silicone opening directly collided with my clit.

“Ah!” A moan fled from my lips, and my brows pushed together in a straight line when Satoru simultaneously pressed a little harder on the sides of my neck with his fingers. I felt wildly turned on all of a sudden; if this continued on, it wouldn’t be long before I came.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive. This is only the second setting on this thing…” Satoru eyed the toy in his hand curiously, then tapped the button, slightly increasing its vibration on the next setting.

My hips jerked upwards, and I began to moan repeatedly, feeling the pleasure start to radiate all over my body, “Satoru…” I warned, “M’gonna cum…!”

“Hm, enough of this.” Satoru pulled the toy away from between my legs and clicked around on the buttons until finally turning it off. He tossed it on the other end of the bed somewhere and let go of my neck as well.

“No!” I softly cried out, “Please…” I begged, upset at having been denied my orgasm.

“Please what?” Satoru asked for clarification, far calmer and more collected than I was presently.

“Please let me cum!” I said desperately, my pleading eyes looking up at Satoru who was hovering over me.

“I’ll let you cum as many times as you want, beautiful…” Satoru kissed between my breasts, slowly pecking his way down my abdomen, “You just have to be patient.” He said in between kisses, “I promise you’ll love it. Now, can I taste you?” Satoru asked, eyes staring up at mine as he moved to trail kisses up the inside of my thigh. He lowered himself flat on the bed before me, thick arms already propping my bent legs over his shoulders.

“Please!”

“Mm… Good girl. Begging so nicely…” Those two words made my head spin. Satoru finally descended his lips to between my legs, starting with a long lick up the glistening folds of my pussy—his eyes on me the entire time. I shuddered and gasped to his licking, my right hand moving to grip the white locks of hair at the back of his head. He paused to speak briefly, gently rubbing my clit with the pads of his fingers while he talked, “You taste so good, Lena. Knew this pussy would be perfect.”

I moaned when his mouth returned to my pussy, especially when he continued on to gently suck and tug on my labia with his lips. The slurping noises he made as he shamelessly ate me out were driving me mad, and my hips jerked around to all the strong sensations and pleasure he was giving me. I settled down a bit when Satoru returned to focusing and licking up, down, and around my pussy lips and clit; a pathetic and desperate moan fleeing my panting mouth when he found a particularly pleasing spot right next to my clit—my favorite spot… How the hell had he found that so fast?? Satoru’s gaze lifted back up to my face at my reaction, and he continued to lick, flick, and prod his tongue there at a steady pace.

I watched as Satoru devoured me and gripped his hair tighter at the sudden uptick in pleasure I was experiencing. I nodded my head quickly, “Yes! Ahh, right, there…!” My legs bent even tighter over Satoru’s shoulders, pulling him close to me while rocking my hips up into his mouth.

Satoru didn’t respond with words, but I watched the corners of his mouth curve up into a smirk as he licked me, “Mhm…” He hummed, picking up the pace even more and shifting one of his arms to press his middle finger to my wet entrance. Satoru slowly pushed his finger into my pussy, working the long digit in and out of me while he continued to lick my clit.

I didn’t need to warn him this time. The loud desperation on my face and in my helpless moans were enough to signal to Satoru that I was going to cum, and hard, at that. But I cried his name, regardless, “Satoru!” My mind went blank just after, and the noise that escaped my throat was hardly human. I grunted and clenched hard around Satoru’s finger and my eyes briefly rolled back, hips jerking and spasming with every wave of the intense orgasm that took over me. Though Satoru didn’t back away and held my hips down with his arm, licking me through every second of my climax.

I was left a panting mess beneath him when he was finished with me, my legs shaking and trembling when his mouth and hand parted with my pussy. I looked up to catch my wetness all over Satoru’s lips and chin, nearly dripping down to his t-shirt from the abundance of it. He wiped his chin and grinned. I needed to be close to him again. I was grateful when he lowered himself down over me, his lips taking mine in a deep, lewd kiss. I tasted myself on his tongue and hummed into his mouth, slowly coming down from my mind-altering orgasm.

“Better?” Satoru asked between kisses, smirking.

I quickly nodded over and over, “Yeah…” I sighed, still a little out of breath, “Much better.” The toy was nothing in comparison to Satoru’s mouth.

“See? You just gotta trust me… You’re so cute.” Satoru grinned, showering me in light kisses.

“Satoru?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Do you have a condom?”

Satoru looked surprised by my words, yet again, and quirked a brow upwards, his smile just slightly growing, “Yeah, I always keep one in my wallet. Why do you ask?” He feigned cluelessness, just trying to get me to utter my desires aloud once more.

“I want you.” I said in a soft voice, trailing my hand down his chest and to his abdomen, “I want you to feel good, too.”

“What do you want of me? Be specific, Lena… Communication is important.” He cooed deeply into my ear, his tone flirty and enticing.

“I… I want your dick inside of me…!” My face reddened bashfully as I admitted what I wanted.

Satoru chuckled and sat back for a moment, amused, “You just came and already want more, beautiful? I mean it’s fine by me, but, just curious… How many rounds do you typically like?”

I blinked a few times, still dazed, “I don’t know, I haven’t had sex in a few years.”

Satoru looked the most shocked I’d ever seen him, eyes blown wide and jaw practically on the floor, “A few years??!?! How long is a few years??!!”

“Like, two?”

“Shit, Lena. How the hell do you manage that?” Satoru asked the clearly rhetorical question just above a whisper, shaking his head to himself and already reaching for his wallet in the back of his trousers. He opened one of the pockets and retrieved a large foil packet before passing it to me, “Hold that for me, please.”

Satoru stood to his feet beside the bed, quickly making work of his shirt by pulling it over his head, then undoing his belt before sliding it, his pants, and his underwear down and off his legs in one go. Now freed from the confines of his pants, Satoru’s dick sprang to life, and nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing the size of it—not even having already seen his bulge a few times now. He was massive. At least 24cm or 9.5in long, girthy, cut, and completely shaved other than the light trail of white hair below his navel. I blinked, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he rejoined me on the bed, slipping the condom from my seemingly frozen fingers, I was so still with shock, “Uhh… wow, um… You’re huge.”

Satoru exhaled a short chuckle and leaned close to me while he broke open the packet, pecking my lips before speaking, “Don’t worry babe, it’ll fit.” He assured me. But would it, really?! I couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll be a tight fit, but it will, and I’ll make you feel amazing. You just have to trust me, okay?” Satoru glanced down to roll the condom down the thick length of his dick, slowly spitting down onto himself to make it extra slick. He leaned in again, holding his weight on one arm beside my waist, and using his other hand to guide his dick to my pussy. I felt him, impossibly thick and heavy, press and prod against my entrance, “You trust me, babe?” Satoru spoke lowly into my ear, tone husky and heavy with lust.

“Yes…” I sighed lightly, beginning to feel slightly nervous. Satoru hadn’t given me a reason not to trust him.

“Then relax for me.” Satoru’s voice nearly made me dizzy, it was so hot. My pelvic floor muscles clenched in response. I took a deep breath, trying to release the tension in my body. Just as I relaxed some, I felt Satoru push in a little. I released a high-pitched moan in response and Satoru mumbled praises into my ear, “That’s good, Lena, now relax your hips for me…” He talked me through every inch of him, and now that the tip was in, his hand that had guided his dick slid around my side to sweetly rub and knead my hip, “Come on, baby, open up for me.” Satoru murmured the words into my ear, nearly whispering.

“Oh, fuck… You’re too fucking big…” I whined at Satoru’s size, doing my best to relax though his dick was stretching me unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It didn’t help that I’d been out of practice for two years. The next time I exhaled, his length pushed in some more, and I reflexively pulsed around his dick, a groan falling from my lips.

“Yes.” Satoru praised, “That’s it—you’re doing so well, baby.” He slowly pushed into me even more and I moaned again, unable to help but briefly clench around him again. Satoru buried his face in the pillow beside me with a long groan, “Fuck… You feel fucking insane, Lena…” His lips returned to my ear, tone absolutely wanton, “You know you keep squeezing me like crazy? You want me that much? Let me give you what you need then, beautiful.” His dirty talk was going to drive me insane.

Satoru slowly thrusted in a little more, and I sighed in relief, assuming that was the last bit of him.

“Just a little bit more, okay?”

“M-More?!” I gasped, in disbelief. I rolled my head back on the pillow and moaned helplessly to the surprising yet pleasant fullness in my abdomen. Though Satoru was huge, he’d gone so slow enough that I’d hardly felt any discomfort. He hotly licked up the length of my exposed neck before joining our mouths in a messy kiss. He pushed the rest of the way in, and we broke our kiss with moans as we were finally skin to skin. I’d never been stretched and filled to capacity like this—it was making my mind fuzzy.

Satoru moved his hand from my hip to my knee, lifting the underside of it to prop over his shoulder. My hips rose slightly from this new position, and I felt Satoru’s dick press and nudge against my cervix because of it. I whimpered and shuddered to this, and Satoru backed up enough to gaze gown at me, eyes examining my expression in a protective sort-of-way, “You okay?”

“Yes,” I started, brows knit tightly, “just, slow, please…” I moaned lightly and allowed my eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “Shit, you’re deep.”

Satoru rolled his hips against mine and I opened my eyes again, a smirk spread across his face, “Yeah, think I’m the deepest I can go.” He teased cockily, feeling his tip press against my cervix, “But I told you it would fit, didn’t I?”

“Shut up.” I huffed out, managing a quick laugh. Satoru joined in with a chuckle of his own, and I immediately felt the tension and anxiety release from my body.

Satoru rested his forehead against mine, “Only if you make me, babe.” He challenged, retreating his hips before pumping into me again. I gasped to the feeling, unable to help my loud moaning and groaning with every one of his thrusts that followed. Though slow in speed, they had a good amount of force behind them, and the delicious friction of Satoru slipping his cock almost completely out before fully pumping back into me was starting to make a familiar, hot pressure build in my abdomen. Satoru continued to tease with his dirty talk as he peered down at me, “I think I have a better chance of making you scream my name. What do you think?”

“Ah—” I made a quick sound of surprise when Satoru mixed in a few shallow thrusts with his long ones, and my back arched on the bed, his dick perfectly prodding against the bundle of nerves deep inside of me, “Satoru…!” I cried, reaching down with one hand to grasp and attempt to pull his hips into mine.

“Yes, Lena?” Satoru said coolly with a knowing smile. He seemed so perfectly calm and in control, compared to my messy, lust-filled mind.

“Please!” I gripped and pulled his hip in tighter.

“Please what? Remember what I said earlier, about communication?” Satoru continued to stroke into me over and over as he spoke; I was honestly beginning to lose my mind.

“Communication is important…” I somehow managed with a cry, though it felt like my brain was melting every time Satoru hit my spot.

“That’s right. Now, what would you like me to do, baby?” Satoru cooed.

“Please, fuck me d-deep…!” I begged, still trying my best to pull Satoru’s hips closer into mine. I wanted more. More of that sweet friction he was giving me with every deep thrust. The way his dick stretched, pushed, pulled, and prodded the most sensitive parts of me; I wanted to be consumed by him and those sensations he was giving me.

“Like this?” Satoru abruptly picked up his slow pace into a quicker one, ceasing his long thrusts and fucking me instead with shorter, deep thrusts, all perfectly aimed at my a-spot. Instead of pulling out all the way with each pump, he remained deep inside, and the repeated stimulation to the area just beneath my cervix made me want to cry, it felt so fucking good. Satoru sat upright to watch me moan helplessly beneath him as I was completely pleasure-struck. He held the back of my left leg for leverage as he fucked into me, my breasts jumping from the force of each thrust. Satoru grabbed one and squeezed hard, his eyes visibly starting to grow cloudy with lust, “I thought you said I was too big… Now you want me deep?” He released my leg and instead wrapped his hand around my neck, perfectly squeezing the sides of my neck so that his grip was tight, but I could still breathe, “What’s the truth, Lena?” He was so sweet yet cruel at the same time—giving me exactly what I wanted physically yet repeatedly making me say exactly what was on my mind, even when I was too embarrassed or turned on to answer properly.

I cried out pathetically beneath Satoru, clenching tightly around his dick when he choked me, “Please, please don’t s-stop I need this…!” My words were slurred and hardly discernable, I was so drunk with pleasure. I could feel a familiar pressure building up in the pit of my stomach, and knew I was close.

“I know, baby, I know.” Satoru’s eyes looked dark, like he was beginning to lose himself in pleasure just as much as I was. He used his hand that was not around my neck to roughly comb away the white strands of hair from his face, forehead beading with sweat. He then reached down and started to rub my clit with the pads of his fingers as he perfectly fucked into me, over and over, “Why don’t you fucking cum for me?” Clearly worked up with lust as I was, Satoru spat the question between clenched teeth, more like a demand.

Something low in my abdomen twisted with excitement when Satoru spoke to me like that; and I knew that some sick part of me wanted him to be even more cruel to me. Right then, I wanted desperately for him to treat me however he wanted. I groaned messily to the triple attack on my body—Satoru harshly fucking into me, choking me, and gently rubbing my clit all at the same time. My pleasure rapidly increased from the additional sensations he gave me, and my eyes went wide with shock at the extremely intense orgasm that was quickly building up in my body. It was almost scary, “S-Satoru, g-gonna cum… really hard…!” I warned in an uneven voice, my hips involuntarily squirming around to free myself from the pleasure that was too much, and too strong. I even unconsciously clawed my nails at his lower back. But Satoru’s hand around my neck kept me locked square on his dick, that was now driving into me at an even faster pace.

Satoru bent close to me, looking directly into my eyes, “Mm-mnh… Don’t run, baby. You don’t get to run from this. You have to take it, Lena. Now do what I ask and fucking cum.”

I came with a scream at Satoru’s command, feeling tears well up in my eyes at the intense explosion of pleasure that continued in waves as he fucked me through it. My body convulsed harshly with each strong pulse of my pussy, one… two… three… four times; and on the fifth, my hips jerked so hard that I jumped out of Satoru’s grasp and on my side next to him on the bed. I panted heavily, trying to regain my sanity after an orgasm that strong. It was so much, so insanely strong, and so good that I felt the tears finally fall from my eyes.

Satoru followed me to where I’d jumped on side of the bed and chuckled; wiping one of my tears then kissing my cheek, neck, and shoulder, “You’re just a big crybaby, huh?” He said softly, kissing my cheek again, “You okay? That felt like a big one…”

I quickly nodded, wiping the remainder of my tears, “Shit, I’m always fucking crying on our dates, aren’t I?” I sniffled, turning to look up at Satoru after I caught my breath, “Yeah, I’m okay, just had the biggest orgasm of my life—no big deal.” I laughed once.

Satoru smiled, reaching up to stroke my cheek before pressing his lips to mine, “Glad I could be a part of that.” He hummed and closed his eyes, dipping his head down to rest his forehead on mine again. In our current position—with me on my side and Satoru hovering over me—I could feel his condom-covered dick twitch against my ass cheek, “Mind if I finish, baby? I’m really close… Or do you need a break?”

“Oh! No, I don’t mind!” I shook my head and lifted my leg, practically handing it to Satoru as he took it in his grasp and positioned himself at my entrance, “I want you to cum, too.” I said sweetly, grabbing his free hand and interlocking our fingers.

I moaned when Satoru pushed back in, filling me completely in one swift thrust. His forehead remained against mine as he pumped into me over and over, movements growing more and more erratic and unfocused by the second. I heard Satoru’s breathing become ragged and uneven, the sweat from his forehead trickling onto mine as he squeezed my hand. It was satisfying, being able to feel him unravel and lose himself in pleasure as I had, “Fuck… You know you get even tighter after you cum, babe?” Satoru straightened up a bit, enough for him to drive his hips even harder into mine, and enough for me to see his face better. He stroked in and out of me continuously, until I saw his jaw clench considerably, suddenly ceasing with a particularly hard thrust and a loud grunt. Satoru bared his teeth and groaned when he came, tilting his head back for a second, then offering me a few shallow thrusts and looking down at himself buried in my pussy, “Shit, Lena… You’re fucking unreal.” He glanced up into my eyes at the last of his words, then dramatically collapsed onto the bed beside me on his back.

I giggled at Satoru’s dramatics, turning on my other side to face him, “You okay?” I playfully returned his question from earlier.

“Yeah, the best.” Satoru exhaled, wiping his forehead before turning to look at me. He leaned over to peck my lips once… twice, then slowly slid the condom off his dick before slipping off the bed and standing. He tied a knot on the end of the condom and tossed it into the wastebin in the corner of my bedroom. And I appreciated this view of the man walking around naked my room in his full glory, insanely cut and toned all over. The view of his round, muscular butt when he bent over to retrieve and throw away the condom’s foil wrapper was particularly cute. Satoru turned towards me again as I comfortably slipped under my duvet, “You want some water?” He asked.

“Yeah, um, see that white pull-out cabinet under the vanity?” I pointed to it on the opposite side of the bedroom, “There’s a mini fridge in there with glasses and a water dispenser.”

“Well, that’s fucking genius; I was about to go back to the kitchen.” Satoru admitted, instead making a beeline for the mini fridge and filling up a tall glass of water. He returned to the bed and carefully passed me the glass as he slipped under the covers with me.

“Thank you.” I took a number of long sips, nearly drinking half the glass in one go. I passed the glass back to Satoru and he took a short swig before reaching back to rest it on the bedside dresser next to him.

“Of course.”

We gazed at each other for a moment, and I suddenly got up and reoriented myself so that I was straddling Satoru under the covers, a pleased and giddy grin on my face. I rested my hands on Satoru’s chest and felt him gently grasp and knead my hips with his thumbs in response.

“What’s gotten into you?” Satoru cracked a smile, curious to my sudden excitement.

I was just feeling playful. I bent close to Satoru’s ear, “You.” I whispered, “You got into me.” I started with a kiss to his cheek, then kissed down his neck, then to his chest…

“Mm…” Satoru hummed affirmatively, “It was really fun, huh?”

I sat up again and nodded with a smile, next pressing my mouth to Satoru’s in a brief yet passionate kiss. He spoke up again when I broke it.

“You wanna go again?” Satoru challenged with a raised brow.

I flipped my long curls behind my shoulder and tucked a loose strand behind my ear, sure that my hair was a complete mess now, but I was quite unbothered at this point, “Yes.” I nodded, and our lips came together once again—immediately diving into a series of quick, excited, and heated kisses, until Satoru suddenly broke away.

“Shit.” He let go of one of my hips and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?” I asked, a little concerned.

Satoru met my gaze once more, “I don’t have any more condoms.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip in realization and blinked down at Satoru laying beneath me.

“You on birth control or anything? If so, I could show you my negative test results if you wa—”

“I’m not.” I interrupted. I hadn’t been since I broke up with my ex… Work had picked up so quickly since I’d moved back to Tokyo two years ago, I hadn’t even thought about it. Well, not until now.

“Fuck.”

We simply stared at each other in silence, the unspoken, next natural question on both of our minds hanging heavy in the air: Should we just do it anyways?

[orivaa-kun]

ride for me | chapter 2: get set

ch. 1 | chapter word count: 13.6k warnings: mature (18+), drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem OC series summary: Lena Okamoto was emotionally estranged from her father—the CEO of Okamoto Group, a Tokyo-based, multi billion-dollar sports car manufacturing company—after her mother died due to a longterm, post-pregnancy related illness when she was a kid. Amidst her father’s misdirected blame for this, now 27, Lena is finally back in the city. She’s introverted and troubled by her past with her father and step-family, but hardworking and anxious to prove herself to everyone: that she can create the best cars for the Okamoto brand and the fastest engines for their Formula 1 cars. Satoru Gojo is the face of Gojo Industries—the corporation that practically owns Tokyo with its advanced tech that can be found all over the city. Unlike Lena in many ways, the confident and extroverted man leads a completely different, unblemished life—having basically had a spoiled upbringing, and the only trying aspect of his life being the sheer amount of his company responsibilities, obligations, and public appearances. When the two meet, both of their lives change completely. Will they be able to juggle their relationship, trying professional careers, family dynamics, and public image all at once? Sacrifices will have to be made.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was already up. I jolted upright in the cream-colored sheets of my bed, reaching for my phone on the nightstand. 6:38 AM??I’d slept through my alarm?! What the hell??! That hardly ever happened, I was such a light sleeper; unless... I pressed my hand to my stomach and winced when I felt the familiar sharp pain in my abdomen—cramps. Of course it’s early. I always felt more tired than usual when my period hit. 

I scrambled out of bed and to the bathroom, getting ready as soon as possible. I only had 20 minutes to get to the track for the OXB 600 speed test drive! After I used the bathroom, I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, quickly combing my curls out and slipping into the closest and easiest piece of clothing I could find; in this case, it was an old, black and white and Okamoto-branded auto racing suit made of denim material—the sentimental jumpsuit my grandpa had given me years ago. 

Minutes later I was sprinting to the elevators of my apartment complex with my phone, bag, and keys to get down to the garage; and the metal doors were just about to close on me before I reached in between, causing them to retract once more. I recognized the man inside the elevator immediately, mood souring at the mere sight of him alone with his arms crossed cockily over his chest. Not this asshole. Why did I have to run into him, of all people, right now?! 

The black-haired man was tall and extremely buff, today clothed in a black button-down shirt and white slacks. His biceps, shoulders, and chest muscles protested the taught, black fabric wrapped around them, nearly stretching them beyond their limits. Sure, he was physically attractive, but his personality had made him an asshole. The small scar on the corner of his mouth curled upward with his growing smirk after he checked the silver Audemars Piguet watch on his wrist, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the track soon?” 

Toji Fushiguro . Though it was a luxury apartment building, I still couldn’t believe I lived in the same complex as Okamoto Group’s COO—the 40-something-year-old man who’d been appointed by my father a few years ago. Though he was much younger than my dad, Toji was just as cold, spiteful, and as bad a father as him—as I’d heard the whispers about his son, Megumi, during countless board meetings—but in Toji’s particular case, the man was also notoriously a horrible gambler who was very bad with money. Needless to say, he’d somehow made it as the worst COO pick of the century. 

I sighed and stepped into the elevator, tucking myself in the farthest corner away from him as the doors closed once more, “Good morning, sir.” I spoke the words as respectfully as I could, which was not very much at all. Unfortunately, he was still my superior. I bowed my head quickly, “Yes, I’m on the way.” 

“You’re on the way? But, you’re still here, no?” Toji chuckled to himself, tone deviously low, “Though I guess it’s just in your nature to slack off, isn’t it, Lena ?” 

I hated the way he said my name. Toji didn’t know shit about me—the meals and hours of sleep I’d missed over the past months while creating and perfecting this vehicle. I had no idea why he always bothered and bullied me like this; he never missed an opportunity to. What the hell did I ever do to him? It must’ve been some lies or exaggerations my father had told him about me. 

“I’ll get there in time.” I said flatly, trying to hide my foul mood. I tapped my foot anxiously. Why was this elevator so damn slow?!  

“You better...” Toji nearly cooed the words, voice deep and song-like—it almost made me sick. Though I couldn’t see his expression as he was behind me, I could feel his eyes burning into my back, “I, on the other hand, don’t need to arrive until 8 o’clock. Lucky me, hm? I was thinking of even getting some breakfast nearby the track.” 

Why was he telling me all this? Like the fuck I cared. I looked up to watch the floor numbers drop on the elevator’s small display screen. 25... 21.. 17... 13... 

“There can’t be much that you can help with, now. Why don’t you join me? I can explain to your father and the leadership team about your absence...” 

Me, getting breakfast with him?! I turned my head to look back at Toji, genuinely surprised and a bit appalled by the proposition, “Uh, no thanks. I should make sure everything’s set with the new OXB model and our driver.” 

Toji suddenly guffawed, voice loud and hoarse as he laughed, “I was joking, kid. You seriously think I’d have breakfast with you right now?” His steely black eyes narrowed at me, almost as if he was suddenly upset by something, “It was a test. Hm. I guess you do have some semblance of a work ethic after all... Then again, so does an ant .” 

I balled up my fists at the last of his words. Fuck you. Finally, the elevator doors opened to the garage lot. Beside myself, I offered Toji a courtesy nod and began to sprint towards my car. 

“I’ll make sure to ask the others if you arrive on time! I’m sure the board would love to know if their VP of Style and Chief Designer wasn’t even dedicated to her role enough to show up on time!” Toji called after me, grinning again. 

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you...!” I cursed him under my breath. I unlocked my driver’s side door of my Ferrari and threw my stuff in the passenger seat, quickly jumping in before loudly starting the vehicle. 

~ 

I’d made it to the track with one and a half minutes to spare, panting with my hands on my knees in the loading area to catch my breath, that turned into a small white cloud around my face with each exhale. It was still cold outside at this time in the morning and I hadn’t had time to grab a jacket. 

Before me was the ground crew, huddled around the new Okamoto OXB 600. Different members of the production and mechanic team were completing last checks on the car, and Jin stood at the center with an electronic notepad. 

“There you are, Lena!” Jin was the first turn and see me. He strode towards me, “Thought we were gonna have to start a little late. Where've you been?” 

“Sorry...” I gasped, still catching my breath, “Slept through my alarm...” 

“Shit, well, glad you’re here on time! Oh...” He trailed off, clicking the bluetooth piece in his ear. Someone must have contacted him through our test drive comms channel, “...oh no.” Jin finished, the tone of his voice particularly devastating. 

“What’s ‘oh no?’ What do you mean ‘oh no,’ Jin?” I asked impatiently, my concern audible. 

Our driver for the speed test is still stuck in traffic, and the board’s already here.” Jin used his thumb to gesture back and up towards the nearby observation room in the tall glass building beside the track. 

My eyes widened, “What?! You’re fucking kidding me...!” I threw my head into my hands, “The hell do we even hire this guy for??!” 

“Can’t be helped.” Jin shrugged once and shook his head. 

“We’ve got a backup, right?” I finally stood back upright, brows furrowed in concern. 

“We tried to call Yuji, but his arm is still injured from his accident last month.” 

“Why don’t you just do it, Lena?” A new voice interjected, and both Jin and I turned our heads in his direction—it was the assistant mechanic, Kaito, “You’re a rallying pro, and you know this track like the back of your hand.” He walked towards the sidelines where we were standing, just having tightened the lug nuts on the wheels. 

“Me?!” I was half awake, and my cramps were so strong it felt like someone was stabbing my uterus with a butter knife, “Wha—” 

“Damn, that’s actually a great idea, Kaito.” Jin jumped in, seemingly impressed by the notion. He looked at me, “You can do it, right, Lena?” 

I paused for a moment, and there was a long silence. There was no way I could’ve expected this situation, but if the speed testing didn’t start soon, then the Okamoto leadership board would grow impatient, and the blame would fall on my ass. I took a deep breath, beginning to answer, “I mean, technically I could—” 

Jin clasped his hands together, “Then it’s settled! Nice save, Lena!” He harshly clapped his hand on my back a few times. 

I nearly folded over from my overall achiness and the repetitive force of Jin’s hand, “Sure thing.” I winced a bit, attempting to smile. 

“You’ve got gloves, right?” 

I patted the pockets of my jumpsuit, feeling the familiar lump in my back left. I retrieved the all-black gloves from my pocket and began to slide them on, “Yeah. Shit , I don’t have my helmet though.” I immediately remembered. It would feel a bit foreign driving without my usual. 

“Let me grab you a helmet, then. A small should work, right?” Jin began to jog back to the building, shouting the last of his words back so I could hear. 

“Yeah, thanks!” 

“Thank you , Lena. You’re really saving our ass.” Kaito said, laughing, as if this wasn’t an urgent situation. 

“Yeah, well, your ass is my ass in the board’s eyes.” I reached into the front pocket of my jumpsuit and fished out a loose hair tie, raising my hands to quickly fasten my curls up and away from my face. Jin quickly returned and handed me the white, Okamoto-branded helmet, which I hastily slid on, already beginning to approach the OXB. 

“And when our asses work together, our cars are the shit!” Kaito said with enthusiasm. 

Jin and I both turned around, staring back at Kaito expressionlessly at his god-awful pun. 

“...I’ll, uh, excuse myself.” He laughed nervously, making his way back to the building with the observation room. 

“Comms are already hooked up inside your helmet. So, shout with any issues, alright?” Jin followed behind me as I slipped into the low driver’s seat of the sports car, closing its heavy door behind me. 

I nodded, adjusting my helmet and tightening the velcro straps of my gloves around my wrists. I checked all the mirrors, watching as the remaining crew finished their last tweaks on the OXB before almost everyone backed away from the vehicle. Jin bent close to the side of my window, and I rolled it down. 

“You know the deal. Three laps, and we’ll take your best time. One lap around the course is 5.5 kilometers and we’re expecting an average of about 2 minutes, 15 seconds, with the vehicle weight in mind.” Jin smirked and folded his arms on the open window ledge of the car, “Now don’t shave too much off that number. Remember civilians will be driving this model, not pros! Plus, it’s not like we want legal on our ass on the overall safety of the vehicle.” 

“I know, I know.” I smiled for the first time this morning with a small wave of my hand, dismissing the last of Jin’s comment. We knew this information more than anyone—it was our team that had designed and built this car from the ground up. 

“You grew up on this asphalt, Lena. No one knows this track better than you.” 

The memories flooded my mind at the weight of Jin’s words. 

I was five years old, and my grandpa was helping me push my mini go-kart up to the Okamoto track start line with the brightest smile on his face. Then, I was 11, racing my karting class rival—the kid with long black hair who’s name I couldn’t remember—and crying after he’d beat me to the finish line. Then, I was 16, totaling my grandpa’s 2003 Porsche 911 GT3 RS on the backend of this very track. And those were just three of the no doubt thousands of times I’d found myself driving around it. It was a mix of sweet, spicy, and sour memories—but impactful memories, nonetheless. And every single lap I’d made around this track had taught me something new; no matter well I knew it or how much I improved my driving skills over the years, there were always new experiences to gain here. 

“Thanks, Jin.” I smiled sincerely. I felt my heart flutter excitedly. It’d been a while since I’d been presented with the opportunity to let loose on the track. 

He tapped the hood of the car twice before standing back upright, “Show ‘em what you got!” He shouted, grinning. 

I started the car and revved the engine three times in response, rolling up the window before slowly pulling up to the start line. One of the staff with a bright orange baton in his hand led me forward, directing me to stop right before the checkered white line before backing away to the far sideline. 

“Lena, can you hear us?” I suddenly heard Kaito’s voice in my ear. His voice sounded a little muffled on the comms line but was still clear enough to understand. 

“Yeah, I hear you.” 

“We’re monitoring your speed remotely via a speedometer attachment to the vehicle, but we’ll also use LaserCam speed guns at four key points on the track—including the finish line—to trace your speed and calculate averages. As a backup and for high-definition footage, the course cameras will assist with that, too.”  

“Copy.” I glance up to look at one of the big mechanical cameras on the side of the track when it slowly panned in my direction. I briefly wondered if my father was watching in the observation room. Why did I care?  

“Production test team, standby for start.” Jin’s voice entered my ears on comms. 

My eyes instantly moved to the big, bright, and red circular signal to the left of me. Here we go. I stared at the light, unblinking, allowing its neon color to practically burn into my retinas. Strangely, I didn’t feel nervous about the speed test drive—even if it was basically in front of the entire leadership board of Okamoto Group. Maybe it was because I was home. 

The light flashed green with a loud tone, and my foot immediately floored the accelerator. 

~ 

When I exited the car and removed my helmet, my hair tie snapped and my curls spilled out from it. I was too excited to pick it up. I shook my hair out with a shit-eating grin on my face, striding up to Jin just as quickly as he was approaching me, “That last lap was less than two, wasn’t it?!” 

“One minute and 58.07 seconds, to be exact!” He mirrored my grin and held his hand high up above me, to which I had to jump to high-five, “Lena, you were a fucking beast out there!” 

“Thanks, Jin. You think we gotta worry about legal and safety?” I hugged the helmet to my side, still smiling. 

“Hell, no. That was absolutely perfect .” 

A few more employees on the production team approached me on the edge of the track, similarly high-fiving and slapping hands with me while offering quick praises. I looked back when a few began to approach the OXB model, that’s engine was loudly rumbling just a few meters away—door propped open and wheels still smoking from the way I had dragged and turned them over the track’s pavement at max speeds. 

“Our savior!” Kaito clapped a few times before bowing his hands and arms down to me over and over, in a mock worship-like gesture. 

I laughed, “Oh, it was nothing.” 

“The board was in there going crazy! Think they wanna make your test drive footage into a commercial!” Kaito exclaimed, and I glanced over, noticing the thirty-odd older men in dark business suits who were now beginning to flood out of the observation building and towards the track. I could hear a few of their comments, even from a distance. 

“Isn’t now a good time to publish a press release and announce to the world that there’s a new OXB model coming?” 

“We should have her test drive every new car!” 

“Ha! Driving really does still run in the Okamoto family, even after all these years!” 

“Let’s get the Okamoto Social Strategic and Creative teams on this!” 

“PR should be all over this!” 

“Maybe we should get more women driver influencers to test it ahead of its release!” 

“Nominating her for Chief Designer might’ve been Eiichiro’s best contribution to the company in the past decade!”  

Hearing my grandfather’s name being mentioned particularly made my smile grow. 

I shook a number of the board members’ hands, respectfully bowing my head with a smile and offering my thanks to each compliment received. I glanced to my father who stood in the back of the group, chatting with a few board members. He met eyes mine and he crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly unimpressed. 

He eventually approached me, but stopped beside Jin, “What happened to the original driver?” He demanded the information, eyes still menacingly locked on me. 

“Megumi was stuck in traffic, sir. Couldn’t get here in time.” Jin explained. 

“And who allowed you to make the call to swap her in??” My father finally glanced over to Jin. 

“Respectfully, sir, this is Lena’s department... She ultimately makes all production-related calls and decisions. And we didn’t want to keep the board waiting, nor hold up their surely, very important schedules.” 

My father looked a bit disgusted by Jin’s answer, his expression practically screaming, ‘A woman should know her place,’ but it was the truth. My department, my rules. It was almost as if he’d forgotten that I even worked here; that I was a part of the leadership team, too. 

The group of board members’ chatter grew quiet at my father’s tone, but an older man in a gray suit spoke up, “Oh, relax, Hanzo. She did well! It’s just an internal test drive!” He approached me, using his short, wooden cane to steady himself before pressing a hand to my shoulder, “You’re too hard on your daughter. I doubt more than five people in Tokyo could make those times in a car they’ve never driven before—even if they did build it!” He laughed, happily, and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders release. Thank goodness someone was here to be on my side. My father couldn’t let his personal hate for me get in the way of the business, this time. I stood there, completely straight faced. 

A few others chimed in with chuckles of their own, and Hanzo averted his gaze from me and the laughing board members once more, already turning to speak to Toji, who had just arrived at the track. And, just like that, I was invisible to him again. 

~ 

Just a few hours later, I found myself on my childhood friend Shoko Ieri’s couch in oversized sweats, her blue electric heating pad practically glued to my abdomen and a giant plush blanket tucked all around me. Apart from the time I’d spent in Italy during my high school and college years, we’d practically known each other all our lives. She primarily spent most of her days working as a general surgeon, but I was glad I could spend some time with her now before her shift at the hospital tonight. 

“Shoko...!” I groaned out, mostly for dramatic effect. My cramps were bad, but currently manageable now that I was laying down with a heating pad. At the very least, I was glad I had the rest of the day off now that the test drive was done, “I’m gonna die...!” I turned in the blanket so I was facing her in the kitchen, resting my arm over my forehead. 

“You’re not going to die, Lena.” She flipped over a piece of mackerel on the mini grill appliance in front of her, “But at the same time, I feel you.” 

I grumbled, “Ugh. Even with the cramps, today was going so well, too! Then fucking Hanzo had to go and ruin it.” I referred to my father by his first name, “I swear it’s like his life goal to embarrass me in front of the entire sports car industry or something.” 

“It’s a shame; he used to be so nice when we were kids.” Shoko noted, moving to the stove and stirring a small pot of soup. 

“Yeah... Before my mom got sick.” I said much quieter, sighing. 

“What did he do this time?” She glanced up from the pot. 

“He was all like, ‘Who let her get behind the wheel for the test drive?!’” I mocked his voice when I recounted the events from earlier this morning, “Mind you, the driver was stuck in traffic, and also, he knows that the entire fucking design production department falls under my leadership. And he said it loud as hell, in front of the whole Okamoto board!” 

Shoko’s eyes widened briefly, “Geez... What the hell is his issue?” 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, briefly closing my eyes, “You know, I’ve been trying to figure that out for a majority of my life now, Shoko.” I paused, “My thing is like, be an asshole to me privately all you want; but at least keep shit professional in a professional setting!” 

“Okay, but he shouldn’t be an asshole to you in private, either.” Shoko challenged, now turning to the rice cooker that had just chimed. She popped the lid open, and a hot cloud of steam escaped from the cooker. 

“Well, obviously he’s incapable of doing that.” I rolled around in the blanket on the couch, grumbling dramatically again, “Fucking asshat ruined my mood. Then there’s his evil, gambling henchman, Toji.” 

Shoko snickered to this, beginning to portion out our lunch trays with grilled fish, rice, soup, and traditional Japanese sides, “Does he still live in the same complex as you?” 

“Yes, unfortunately.” 

“That’s insane.” She shook her head. 

“Exactly. Do you know what kind of houses I could buy with his COO salary?! I mean, my place isn’t shabby at all—but still. The guy’s gotta be blowing every paycheck he gets.” 

“Seriously. Is he still bothering you?” 

“On occasion. But today was weird.” 

“How so?” Shoko rose a brow, beginning to carry our food into the living room where I laid. 

“He asked me if I wanted to skip the test drive and join him for breakfast...” I said with a scowl. 

Shoko mirrored my disgust, “Ew.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it. But no time for asshole fathers—I've got a date tomorrow and my uterus is committing war crimes!” 

Shoko looked surprised to hear this, maybe a little too surprised, “ You’re going on a date?! Miss indoors who never goes outside unless it involves a car??” 

“Hey, I go out sometimes...!” I pouted up at Shoko, who set our trays down on the living room table. 

She simply stared at me. 

“Okay, maybe I don’t.” I immediately conceded. 

“When did you get asked on a date?” She asked, curiously. 

“Just yesterday. I went out to the Gojo Industries gala with Yuko last night.” 

“ You went to a Gojo Industries gala??!” Shoko looked even more shocked, somehow, “Who asked you out?” 

“Satoru...” I said in a small voice. 

“Geh! Satoru Gojo??!” Shoko wore an unreadable yet simultaneously confused expression on her face. 

“What’s ‘geh?!’” I sat up when Shoko froze in her tracks, staring at me with wide eyes. 

“Satoru asked you on a date?!!?! Oh, I need to sit down for this.” Shoko looked overwhelmed. 

I shifted my feet off the couch so that they now rested on the floor, and Shoko sat by my side, “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?” I asked, genuinely concerned by her tone. 

“You know I went to high school with him, right?” Shoko picked up her chopsticks and bowl of soup, taking a long sip from it after she spoke. 

“You did?!” 

“Yeah. You don’t remember me telling you? Wow, never thought I’d hear ‘Gojo’ and ‘date’ in the same sentence...” Shoko shook her head before taking another sip of soup. 

I sank into the couch, covering my face with my hands, “Noooo... Is he gonna play me or something?” 

Shoko cocked her head to one side, thinking for a second, “I wouldn’t say that. It’s not like he’s ever even put himself in the sort of situation to play someone, in the first place.” 

“So, what, he doesn’t date?” 

“Not publicly. You’d see it plastered all over magazines and social media if he did. Though, that doesn’t mean he’s not a bit of a playboy... You really didn’t know any of this?” She traded her soup for her bowl of rice and turned her gaze back to me, honestly puzzled. 

“Does it look like I follow Tokyo pop culture?” I sank even further into the couch, sulking. 

“You have a point.” 

I groaned, “ Of course the one night I go out and meet someone they end up being a playboy.” 

“His family basically owns this city... What did you expect? Though, I guess all is not lost. I’ve personally have never heard of Satoru asking anyone on a date before. Hm. Maybe guys like him do have hearts after all...” Shoko said the last words mostly to herself. 

“You’re not exactly selling him, you know!” I exclaimed and finally sat up again, arms now crossed over my chest. 

Shoko chuckled at my reaction and began to pick at her piece of mackerel, “Maybe I’m selling him a bit short. Satoru’s a good guy at the heart. He’s helped a lot of people with his company’s research and tech, and he’s given a lot back to the community since he became the sole successor of Gojo Industries. Honestly, I don’t know how he manages all that work while having some semblance of a life.” Shoko quickly whipped her head back to me, “Strangely enough, in that way, you two are actually very similar.” By her current expression, Shoko seemed intrigued by her own revelation. 

“So, maybe we are a good match...?” I suggested the idea. 

Shoko shrugged, “Maybe you two are. Time will tell. But if the guy who doesn’t ask people out asked you out that quick, then he's really interested in you. Just guard your heart, be firm in your boundaries, and enjoy yourself. He’s a goofball, too, so I’m sure you’ll have fun!” 

I eventually picked up my soup, using my chopsticks to fiddle with a piece of tofu before taking a bite, “Mm... Now I don’t know how to feel.” 

“Well, you’re not just going on a date with anyone—this is Tokyo’s golden boy we’re talking about here.” 

Just after Shoko finished speaking, my phone chimed with a new text message. I picked it up off the armrest of the couch and read the contact name, “Speak of the devil...” I began to type out my response to Satoru. 

I was about to place my phone down on the living room table after I finished texting Satoru, but Shoko reached out for it, mid-bite of rice, “Mm, lemme see.” If there was anyone who could get a good read on Satoru out of the two of us, it was undoubtedly her since she actually knew him. I passed her the phone, and she scrolled through our brief series of texts. She eventually handed me my phone back and stared at me curiously, “...You sure this is the Satoru Gojo with the white hair? Tall guy, born and raised in Tokyo?” 

I giggled a bit, “Yeah, why?” 

“He hardly ever communicates this well over text... Whoa, he’s really on his best behavior with you. It’s almost creepy.” She put her chopsticks down and grabbed her own phone from her pocket, quickly scrolling through her text threads before tapping on one and showing it to me, “Look. Here’s the last time he texted me a few weeks ago, for context.” 

I laughed after reading the thread, “Did he ever get to ask you the question?” 

“Yeah, it was some shit about his protein intake.” Shoko briefly shook her head, “But see what I mean? His texting style is completely different!”  

~ 

After lunch at Shoko’s and a long nap, I found myself back in my apartment, scribbling and sketching out a few realistic—but mostly unrealistic and futuristic—car designs. My 2hollis playlist had inspired this spontaneous creative work session, as music and art had always inspired me to come up with new car ideas. In my mind, there was a car for every playlist or picture, a four-wheeled vehicle to match every vibe, from the sound and mechanical makeup of the motor to the body’s build and color. 

As I’d slept most of the day away, it was much later at night; now nearly 9pm. I sat in my desk chair with my legs crossed under me, biting my lip out of habit as I focused intently on my sketching. The light of my work desk’s sunset lamp poured down on the white pages of my sketchbook, highlighting it a dewy orange as my fingers and pen moved swiftly across it. It was a royal blue Okamoto LVI that’s body was shaped in an insanely unconventional way to make it look like the paint and metal was melting, dripping, and flying off behind it at the high speeds it would travel. I wondered if Kokichi could help me with the tech to build something like this, even if it was my own project, personally funded by me... I bit the end of my pen, beginning to think over the logistics when my phone suddenly chimed with the FaceTime ringtone. 

I flipped my phone over on my desk so I could see the call screen. Gojo? That’s right; he did say he would call me later. I put my sketchbook down and quickly tied my hair back with a scrunchy that rested on my wrist, slightly adjusting my sweater before sliding my finger across the screen. 

“Hi, Satoru...” My eyes widened when I saw that his bright skin was covered in a thick sheen of sweat, his shirt nowhere to be seen as he sat on what looked to be a gym floor with his legs wide apart in a stretching position. Even sitting, his pecs and abdominals looked insanely toned. He was unreal.  

“Hey, Lena.” Satoru smiled brightly, keeping his eyes directed to the phone but reaching over towards one of his legs to stretch it out. He sounded a little out of breath. 

“Just worked out?” I assumed. 

“Yeah, just beat my sparring partner’s ass.” Satoru chuckled, “What about you?” 

“Sounds like a fun workout! And me? Nothing, really...” I picked up my sketchpad once more and waved it at the camera, “Was just sketching out some really bad car designs.” 

Satoru moved from stretching one leg to the other, huffing out a short laugh, “I’m sure they’re fine.” 

“Oh, trust me... They’re pretty ugly.” I laughed, “But it’s all part of the creative process, I guess.” I shrugged. 

Satoru simply stared at the camera for a while, “You really love making cars, huh?” 

“It’s the best. I gotta show you my brain babies sometime.” I placed my sketchbook back down. I was really proud of every car I’d ever designed. There were only nine of them, but I’d built them from the ground up and cherished them deeply. 

Satoru’s smile grew, “I’d like that.” He paused, changing the subject, “But about tomorrow—feel free to wear whatever you like. I’d say casual, but make sure you’re comfortable and warm, above anything.” 

“Okay,” I thought aloud, nodding to myself, “I think I know just the thing.” 

Satoru picked up his phone, “Ooo, you gonna show me?” He grinned, his forehead shining with sweat. 

I shook my head, “If our plans for tomorrow are a surprise, then so is my outfit!” I said cheekily, smiling. 

Satoru groaned playfully, “Boooo...” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “But I guess that’s fair.” It was so funny, how blatantly obvious it was at times that men were such visual creatures, “Where are you based?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Like location-wise? Mostly Shibuya—that's where my apartment is. I’ll text you where to pick me up there tomorrow... But I do sometimes like to spend a few days a week at my mom’s old place on the countryside in Yamanashi. She left it to me when I was a kid, and now I’m slowly remodeling it into a more permanent home.” I explained. 

“Oh nice, is it close to Tokyo?” He questioned, seemingly beginning to walk somewhere in the gym. 

“Yep, just outside of it.” 

Satoru walked past a dark-haired guy who was about his height face too far to make out, “I want my rematch, Satoru!” The guy with broad shoulders and long hair gave Satoru a shove and threw a hand towel at him. 

Satoru grabbed the towel out of the air before it hit him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah... Later, bro!” He chuckled, then focused his attention back on the phone, “Sorry.” He wiped his face and neck of sweat. 

I shook my head, “You’re good! Now that I know the dress code, and am sending you my address, I think we’re all set.” 

Satoru grinned, looking down at the camera. Curse him for looking this good at an upward angle, “Yeah, you better get excited—I've got the best plans for us tomorrow.” 

“The best, you say?” I rose my brow. 

“Uh-huh, I might’ve put some brain power into crafting this itinerary. So, trust me, you’re gonna love it.” 

~ 

The next morning, I looked over my outfit once more in the mirror before heading out. It was an early autumn day, but a bit overcast, so I wore a thin, brown, and fitted turtleneck shirt tucked into high waisted blue jeans that hugged the curves of my hips and were wide legged with slight flares at the ends. Underneath them I wore black leather boots with a comfortably short block heel, and tucked in the fold of my arm was my deep brown and white, tightly checkered long coat. My hair was straightened and tied up into a high bun, and I wore simple and small gold hoop earrings. 

Once I received Satoru’s text that he was outside, I locked up my apartment and made my way to the elevator. When I tapped the button, the doors opened moments later and I groaned internally at the sight of the man before me. Not Toji, again. I sighed with a small bow of my head, “Hi, sir.” 

Toji wore a tight, black compression shirt and loose, gray sweatpants. He nodded once and crossed his arms over his chest, the material of his shirt stretching impossibly taught over his thick biceps, “Lena. Where are you headed, dressed like that?” One could say the same to you, asshat.  

“I have the day off.” I explained, not exactly answering his question as I slipped my purse over my shoulder. I bit my lightly glossed lip nervously—I probably did look different from my usual work appearance as I was wearing a little makeup today. Was it too obvious that I was going on a date? I stood on the opposite side of the elevator as him and faced forward. The ‘L’ button for the lobby had already been clicked, so I simply faced forward, watching the floor levels drop on the elevator display screen. 

“Is that so? I’m headed to the gym in between meetings.” 

There was a long silence, until the elevator bell rang upon reaching the ground floor, “Enjoy your workout.” I bowed my head one last time and exited the doors, turning left towards the main entrance. I slightly frowned when I still felt Toji’s presence behind me. Why did he have to walk this way?? The gym was on the right side!   

One of the suited security guards for the complex opened the main door for me as I approached, and I offered him a small nod and smile as thanks. When I stepped outside, there Satoru stood—dressed in a slightly cropped deep blue denim jacket, a plain white t-shirt, black wide leg slacks, small black shades, and black and white essex leather loafers—holding a lidded hot beverage cup in his right hand. To top it all off, he leaned back against a ‘24, golden-yellow Ferrari SF90 Spider—the very model I’d worked on and had helped produce two years ago in Maranello, Italy. 

Immediately, I burst out laughing, “Satoru...!” 

“Good morning, Lena. You look great.” He stood upright with a smirk as I approached, opening up his arms to embrace me in a hug. 

“Thank you—wait, you know I worked on this Spider model, right?” I was still laughing, attempting to cover my mouth with my hand as I spoke. 

“I told you I put some brain power into this date!” When I finally reached Satoru, his arms enveloped me in a tight hug and he took the opportunity to bend down and press a quick peck to my cheek. 

“Clearly.” I giggled as we broke away from each other. His choice in vehicle was a nice, yet hilarious touch, “Did you already have this car?” 

“I did, funny enough.” Satoru slipped his free hand in his pocket. 

“Ah, so you’re a fan of my work?” My smirk grew. 

“Oh, absolutely.” Satoru’s expression mirrored mine, and briefly, his gaze curiously flickered to the space somewhere behind me, then back to me, “You ready?” 

I nodded, “Yes.” 

“Let’s trade,” He held the lidded hot beverage out in my direction, “this is for you, anyways.” 

I handed my long coat to him and relieved him of the warm cup, “Is this why you asked me my go-to coffee order earlier?” 

He nodded, “Regular capp with 2 pumps of caramel, right?” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, beautiful.” He turned and maneuvered around to open the car door for me, and I stepped in and sat before watching him close it shut. I took a sip of the cappuccino—it was perfect, and still hot. Must’ve been the work of the cupholder warmers I’d urged my old mechanics assistant at Ferrari, Gio, to add to this model. 

Satoru walked around the car and popped the trunk at the front of it, neatly folding my coat inside then closing and making his way to the driver’s seat. He slipped in and closed the door behind him with a questioning look on his face, “Question. Who’s that guy? He looks kinda familiar.” 

Satoru turned his gaze, and I followed it outside the car, right in the direction of where Toji stood, leaning up against the side of the apartment building and smoking a cigarette. I groaned, “Ugh, please don’t ask me about the Okamoto COO.” 

“He lives in your building? Wait, what’s his name again?” Satoru looked surprised by the notion. 

“Unfortunately. And it’s Toji Fushiguro.” 

“Huh. He was looking at you pretty hard...” Satoru’s expression was a mix of confusion and concern. 

“That’s because he loves any reason to talk shit about me to my dad and anyone else at Okamoto and make my work life a living hell.” I rolled my eyes. 

Satoru’s brows remained furrowed, “Weird. Maybe he has a crush on you.” 

I was mid sip of my cappuccino and nearly spit it out, “Please don’t make me throw up so early in the morning...” I managed a laugh. 

“Yeah, I don’t like it either...” Satoru trailed off, continuing to stare in the older man’s direction. He looked completely serious. But then he started the car, and his expression abruptly brightened, “Welp, enough about that guy, we gotta get to our first stop!” He buckled his seatbelt. 

I buckled myself in as well and put my cappuccino in the cupholder, “Where are we headed to first?” 

“Art gallery.” He kept his eyes focused on the road as he pulled off, the Spider’s engine roaring to life. 

“Wow, I see you were taking notes two days ago.” I smirked, remembering I’d mentioned visual art as one of my interests back when we were chatting in the spa pool. I looked over at Satoru—the man was already pulling out all the stops; from the car to the coffee, and now the art gallery. It was fun, this surprise guessing game of ‘What will Satoru do next?’ I hadn’t been this impressed buy a guy in a while... Then again, it wasn’t like I was one to date. 

“I’m a great listener, you know.” Satoru said cockily. When we stopped at a red light, he reached down into a paper bag by his legs, retrieving a huge, fluffy pistachio creme croissant. Satoru opened his mouth wide, about to take a big bite when his eyes traveled to me, “Want a bite?” He tilted the pastry in my direction. 

I licked my lips. It did look good; curse you, uterus and period cravings. I bent close to Satoru, leaning over to take a small bite from the end of the croissant, “Mm... Is this from the same place you got the cappuccino?” 

“It is.” Satoru took a large bite after my own, “Good, huh?” 

“Both are amazing! Where’d you get ‘em?” I wiped my lip of the bit of green pistachio creme that had fell on it, then took another sip of my capp. 

“My best friend’s parents have a bakery that’s not too far from your place, actually. It’s called Jun’s Bake Shop.” Satoru kept his eyes on the road, making a left turn after a few hundred meters, “You might’ve actually heard of him, in your line of work.” 

“Oh yeah?” I perked up, glancing over from the road ahead of us to look at Satoru. My eyes were drawn to his chiseled jawline. 

“Yeah, his name is Suguru Geto.” 

My eyes widened, mouth falling agape, “The F1 driver?!” 

“Yup. He’s also the guy who made the recipe for that bomb ass white cake at the gala.” 

“Wow, F1 driver Suguru Geto is your best friend, and also likes to bake? Huh.” 

“Mhm, been best buds since high school.” 

That made me remember something; I released a short huff of a laugh, “You know my bestie, too, you know.” 

Satoru quickly glanced at me before returning his eyes to the road, “I do?” He rose a brow. 

“You know Shoko Ieri, don’t you?” 

Satoru threw his head back slightly with a hearty laugh, “No way. Shoko is your best friend??” He briefly looked at me again, now grinning. 

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since we were babies.” 

“We went to high school together!” 

“I’ve heard.” I nodded and smirked, “That was her cooking I sent you a pic of yesterday.” I noted. 

“No shit...” Satoru eyed me curiously before returning his eyes to the road, “How in the hell have I not met you before?” 

I shrugged, “Maybe we’ve crossed paths and didn’t know it.” 

“No, I would’ve remembered you.” Satoru replied definitively, shaking his head and seemingly the notion away. 

“Well, I did go to boarding school for high school, then lived in London for university, and I only really officially came back from working in Italy about two years ago...” I listed off my background, “Though Shoko and I are besties, we were basically pen pals for a while there.” 

“That has to be it, then.” There was a long pause, then Satoru spoke again, “Well, I’m glad you came back home.” 

“Are you?” I asked, playfully. 

“Very glad.” I watched as Satoru looked me over shamelessly and much longer than necessary, his eyes focused on the front of my thin and tight-fitting turtleneck. 

I reached up with my index finger, nudging Satoru’s head back in the direction of the windshield, “Hey, eyes on the road.” I smiled teasingly and folded my arms across my lap. 

Satoru pouted childishly, only for a moment, “We’re basically here.” He made another left turn, pulling into a tiny parking lot that faced a small strip of luxury boutiques—mostly consignment shops and the like—with a white, unmarked building at the end. Once Satoru pulled into a parking space, I reached for the handle of my door, about to pull the handle to open it, “Wait,” he instructed, putting his hand out in my direction. Before I knew it, Satoru was already out of the driver’s seat and making his way around the car to open my door for me, “Allow me.” He extended his arm in my direction. 

“Thank you.” I smiled softly and stepped out of the low car, holding my coffee in one hand as I gently grasped Satoru’s with my other. 

“Of course.” 

“How did you find out about this gallery?” I asked, looking around as we approached the door, “I’ve never heard of one in this part of Shibuya...” 

“That’s because it’s a private distributor.” Satoru noted after he clicked the key and locked the car, resulting in two quick chimes. 

“Ah...” Of course the Gojo family had a private art distributor. They probably had multiple, actually, with all their properties and estates in the city, “So you’ve got an art guy?” 

“I’ve got an art guy.” Satoru’s hand that was closest to me found its way to the small of my back, and the other pushed his shades up above his hairline, revealing the high cheekbones, long white eyelashes, and piercing blue eyes that were currently fixed on the entrance. He pulled opened the door and ushered me in, and the inside of the building’s intricacy did not do its outer appearance justice at all—it was massive. 

Paintings and placards were all over the white walls; they were huge, extravagant pieces organized in specific artist collections—and the paintings themselves ranged from traditional portraiture and landscape art, all the way to abstract modern pieces. I was already lost in awe of my surroundings, before we even made it to the front desk of the gallery. 

The only man behind the desk wore a simple black suit with a deep maroon tie. His square rimmed glasses hung low on the bridge of his thin nose, and he had black, middle-parted hair—a style that wasn’t doing much for him. He stood to his feet when we entered, bowing his head, “Mr. Gojo.” 

“Hey Kiyotaka!” Gojo waved his hand with a broad smile before turning to me, “Lena, this is Kiyotaka. Kiyotaka, Lena.” He gestured between the two of us and I extended my hand to him. 

Kiyotaka took my hand in his two and shook, “Kiyotaka Ijichi; nice to meet you, Ms. Lena.” He bowed his head. 

“Oh, Lena is fine!” I’d never been a fan of over-formality, and my years abroad only strengthened this. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He dropped his arms back to his sides with a slow nod. 

‘Ma’am’ wasn’t necessary either... Perhaps he was the type that liked speaking formally. I laughed awkwardly. 

“Please take your time and look around and let me know if you have any questions at all.” Kiyotaka bowed once more, and Satoru and I began to explore the main floor of the gallery. 

I brought my cup of coffee up to my lips for a sip as we aimlessly strolled around, the steam from the mouthpiece on the lid pleasantly warming my nose. 

“Don’t mind him,” Satoru started once we were far enough away from Kiyotaka, “he’s like that with everyone. Been that way since high school, actually.” 

“You went to high school with him, too? Wow, seems like everyone in Tokyo went there.” I exaggerated, more so fascinated by this growing trend. 

“ Almost everyone who’s somebody.” He offered me a quick wink. 

I glanced over at Satoru who was looking at a large, old-fashioned landscape painting. From the size and age of the piece alone, it had to be at least a few million dollars—just like everything else in here. I wondered who else went to this high school of his, it seemed like everyone who was anybody had attended with him... My eyes look to a more abstract painting of a both calm and storming ocean; only one of two weathers were determinable depending on which side of the painting the viewer looked. The outer edges were so neat they appeared pixilated, almost digitized, and the dark green and blue watercolors intriguingly disrupted the clarity of it all. It was a painting completely mixed with light and dark colors and energies; I found myself getting lost in it. 

It made me wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d stayed in Tokyo—if I’d put up with my dad and stepfamily and attended high school with Shoko. Would things have been better, or worse for me? Would I have found people who loved and supported me, like I had in England and Italy, or would all the menacing figures in my family life and hateful voices in my ear have won? Would Shoko and all these high school friends and I have taken day trips to Tokyo Bay or Onjuku Beach for spring break? Would the waves have looked this blue when we dipped our toes in? Would Satoru’s friends have been my friends? Would we have dated back then; even though I was lost, hurt, and far from who I was now? 

Satoru joined me at my side, “It’s a nice one, isn’t it?” He noted, looking over the painting with me. 

“Yeah... I really like this one. You can feel the emotion on it.” I looked it over with a still focus, holding my coffee cup to my chest and folding my other arm underneath. 

“You have a good eye, ma’am,” Kiyotaka’s voice tore my gaze from the painting, but only for a moment. I hadn’t heard him walk up to us, “that’s a solo piece by Ryu Nakamura—it's a little rare as it doesn’t belong to any of his themed collections.” 

“Wait, isn’t he...?” Satoru trailed off, trying to conjure up something from his memory. 

“One of the descendants of Michizane Sugawara? Yes, Mr. Gojo, similar to you.” Kiyotaka said, hands folded neatly behind his back in a pose that felt much older than what I assumed his current age to be, having gone to school with Satoru. 

“It’s loaded with so much... I love it.” I paused for a moment, then mostly thought aloud to myself, “One day I want something like this in my mom’s old place in Yamanashi.” Yes, it would go perfectly in my work studio that I was currently renovating, “It just makes you think.” I summarized, though it was hard to put into words just how visually and intellectually stimulating the piece was. 

“What are you thinking about?” Satoru smiled down at me with curiosity in his eyes. 

I didn’t answer. I giggled softly and turned away, beginning to walk over to and look at another painting, “That’s none of your business.” I looked over my shoulder and offered Satoru a glance, a slightly smug look on my face that just barely hinted at brattiness. 

~ 

Satoru hadn’t lied nor overhyped his words about putting brain power into our date. After visiting the art gallery, we’d taken a private tour of the Tokyo Aquarium’s new Marine Wildlife Conservation near the bay—a space that had been revitalized by Gojo Industries tech and funding. We’d done it all, from helping keepers by feeding dolphins and petting tiny sharks, all the way to learning about the endangered sea otters in the country. 

And after the Aquarium, we had a very late lunch at a small, family-owned fish shop nearby—where even the owners, a husband and wife, knew Satoru personally, having been donation recipients of the Gojo Small Business Support foundation years ago. Our date wasn’t boring like a typical dinner outing at all; it was one filled with the kind of things I enjoyed like art and design, and was filled with the causes and people that Satoru seemed most passionate about helping. Wherever we found ourselves in the city, there was always someone around who could tell a story about Satoru or his family. It felt nothing like a job interview, interrogation-style date; instead, it was like Satoru was inviting me into his life. 

Then we were at the docks within a private, gated yacht club by the water. And instead of showing off to me the biggest yachts that belonged to the Gojo family (that we’d most certainly passed while walking in), Satoru had shown me his favorite: a much smaller, one or two-person boat that only had a small bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom beneath the main deck. 

He’d taken us on a long ride along the choppy waves of Tokyo Bay at sunset, where we eventually arrived at a small pocket filled with numerous boats of varying sizes—all facing a massive white screen that had been placed on the side of a steep cliff. The screen had a projector with loudspeakers playing the original Godzilla movie from the ‘50s, ‘GOJIRA.’ I had heard of movie screenings on the water but had never been to one; I was always too busy studying or working. Satoru and I raided the mini fridge, freezer, and pantry beneath the deck for movie snacks; and had arranged a mess of blankets and pillows into a makeshift fort while we watched the old film up on the top deck. 

After the movie ended and it got cold out, we returned to the yacht club and anchored the boat at the docks before retiring to the heated bedroom beneath the deck; where Satoru revealed that other than occasional cleaning staff, a repairman, and his best friend, I’d been the first person he’d invited onto the boat and allowed to enter the area beneath. I thought it was just a silly ‘no girls’ rule, but it turned out that this was one of his favorite places to think when he was growing up—that while his life was constantly filled with countless faces and names and hands to shake, that he’d just wanted a space to himself; something small enough that didn’t require constant staffing our guards like a ginormous yacht undoubtedly would. 

We listened to records from his old CD player, laughed about hits with lyrics that aged poorly, and even danced around in the small space beside the bed. It was fucking perfect. I’d never been on a date like this... One that felt so thoroughly and thoughtfully planned yet effortless at the same time. 

And after that event packed day and evening, we simply laid back on the bed and talked. 

Satoru laid on his side on the queen size bed, arms comfortably crossed under his chest as he stared at me laying on my back right beside him. Our heads were only a few centimeters apart as he’d curled close, eyes focused on me with a directness that seemingly came to him so easy. I, on the other hand, alternated between glancing at him and looking to the low ceiling as we talked. 

���You’re beautiful, Lena.” And there was that directness again. He was so transparent when speaking on whatever he was feeling, never withholding anything, and never feeling too embarrassed to say what was on his mind. I couldn’t help but envy the ease of how he expressed his self-confidence. 

I closed my eyes briefly, huffing out a short, closed-lip chuckle from my crinkled nose before speaking, “How do you just say stuff like that?” I smiled, opening my eyes and looking at Satoru again. 

Satoru shrugged his shoulders for a moment, still looking at me, “It’s the truth, and I felt like telling you right now.” His answer was so simple. I giggled and he sat up enough to reach over and stroke my cheekbone, just under my eye, “I like your big brown eyes... How you look at the people you’re talking to and smile. Even better when it’s me.” He spoke lowly, simply because we were that close to one another. 

“Like this?” I looked up at the white-haired man who hovered above me and blinked a few times. 

“Mm... Mhm, just like that.” Satoru continued to stroke my cheekbone with his thumb as he looked at me, then was silent for a moment. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, voice soft and a bit shy—I was still not used to this. I gazed up at his piercing blue eyes. 

“Downloading this view into my brain.” Satoru immediately replied. 

I gazed up at his piercing blue eyes. I couldn’t stand the thick tension between us any longer. I reached up with one hand, hooking it around the bit of undercut of his white strands before pulling his head close to mine, “C’mere...” 

Satoru quickly complied and bent over to join our lips in a deep kiss. He took control of it, moving his lips and tongue soft and slow in perfect rhythm with mine. He occasionally pulled back to graze my bottom lip with his teeth, and I couldn’t help but release a small chuckle when he randomly and hungrily tugged it with a comedic, animal-like grunt. It was obvious he was trying to elicit some laughter from me, that he was conscious or unconsciously trying to ease my nerves and help me feel more comfortable with him. It worked. 

Our kiss turned lewd and open-mouthed after that, and Satoru’s hand on my cheek moved down, lightly ghosting over and around my neck before traveling further south to rest on and squeeze my shoulder. I moaned shamelessly to the erotic nature of Satoru’s hand movement, and I heard him suck in an impatient breath through his nose just after, somehow deepening our kiss even more. 

Satoru shifted so that he was nearly straddling me, his weight evenly distributed to his elbows and forearms that now rested beside my head. I moved my legs beneath him, attempting to accommodate him but instead accidently bumping my knee against his groin—and there was definitely something firm there prodding against the front of his pants. He pulled back from our kiss abruptly with a pained groan and hiss, “Ah...” 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I said in a startled, high voice. He was hard? Did he want to have sex...? Was this date just a lead up to a hook-up to him?? Maybe Shoko was right about guarding my heart...  

Satoru chuckled, the low sound snapping me out of my thoughts. He was still so close to me, “It’s fine.” He shook his head and paused, shifting his weight onto one of his arms so he could return his thumb to my cheek once again. He stroked the skin close to my lips this time, “You look like you wanna say something...” 

“I’m on my period...!” I blurted out, voice just above a whisper. 

Satoru blinked once, glancing between my eyes, “Okay, and what does that have to do with us kissing?” 

“Well, we are kissing horizontally on your bed late at night, so I just thought you should know—so I don’t lead you on or anything.” I said breathlessly, nervousness beginning to settle into my shoulders. 

Satoru thought carefully before responding, slowly opening his mouth to speak, “Fair, but Lena, I don’t expect sex or anything from you physically—even if we are kissing horizontally, in a bed, late at night.” His thumb moved to stroke my chin, his gaze briefly moving to my lips before returning to my eyes again, “The only thing I expect is for us to have fun, and for you to enjoy yourself on this date with me. Are you having fun?” 

“Yes.” I breathed out, the corners of my lips creeping up into a sheepish smile. 

“Me too...” Satoru trailed off, quickly pecked my lips, then he shifted backwards a bit so he could get a better look at me, “You okay, though? Are you in pain?” 

“I mean, a little bit; but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” I glanced over to my purse on the chair in the corner of the room, “My tampon stash is running a little low, though, since I didn’t expect to be out this long. The second day can be a bit brutal, you know...” I laughed a bit awkwardly, unsure of why I was suddenly sharing all of this with him. 

“So, I’ve heard.” Satoru almost looked disappointed that I hadn’t told him earlier, “Damn, I’m sorry, Lena... I had no idea you were powering through today like that.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” I immediately protested, “And I wanted to go out with you.” 

Satoru smiled at my words, pausing before speaking again, “You want me to run out and get you some tampons? There’s a convenience store near the docks...” Satoru suggested, poking his thumb back in the space behind him. 

“Oh, you don’t have—” 

“What kind do you get?” He reached over to grab his phone on the nightstand that was built into the wall of the boat. He moved back to lay on his side beside me, typing something into his phone and turning it around to me with a web browser now pulled up on it, “Here. Search a picture of it, so I grab the right one.” 

I looked up from the phone to him, briefly studying his eyes. He really didn’t mind doing this? I looked back at his phone, hesitantly taking it from his hands before typing the brand name in, “I usually get this variety pack.” I explained, showing the screen to him once the right image popped up. 

Satoru took the phone back into his hands and screenshot it, “Okay,” he started, locking his phone before sliding it into his pocket, “You need anything else? Pain meds, a snack? Oh!” Satoru sat up completely, maneuvering over me to step off the bed. He walked over to a wooden dresser on the opposite side of the room, squatting then opening the bottom drawer. 

I watched curiously as he silently searched through it for something, and eventually he pulled out a giant plush black blanket with a white cord attached to it, “Aha! Knew it was still here...” Satoru turned to me, “It’s an electric blanket! Used to use it on cold nights, back before I got the heat fixed. This could help, right?” He held up the material; and the image of the handsome, toned, blue-eyed hunk of a man hunched over and dangling a rolled up electric blanket over his head—and with a thoughtful smile on his face—honestly made me swoon a little. I wanted to download this view to my brain. 

I nodded a few times, blushing and lightly smirking to the cuteness of his innocent gesture, “Yeah, that’s... kinda perfect, actually.” I said softly. 

Satoru stood up and began to unfold and spread the blanket out as he reapproached the bed, leaning in close when he started to wrap the long length of it around my body, “I did good?” He asked with a goofy grin, maybe leaning a little too into the himbo personality. He was so sweet; I didn’t mind it. 

I praised him with a small pat on top of his head, “Uh huh, you did.” I smirked back. Suddenly, Satoru had brought both of my arms to my sides and started wrapping and folding the blanket around me way faster than before. I giggled at the sudden change in his blanket tucking speed, “What are you doing?!” 

“Making you into a burrito... A Lena-rito, if you will.” Satoru smiled to himself, not letting up on his fast-paced wrapping of the electric blanket. 

I laughed, “A what?!” I playfully fought back, giggling as I squirmed around in the blanket to break loose. 

It was no use; for such a big guy, Satoru was insanely quick with his arms, “No! You can't fight your burrito-fication!” He continued to grin, even going so far as crawling on the bed at one point to keep me pinned under the electric blanket. 

I quickly conceded, almost unable to breathe from laughing so much, “Okay, okay...! You win!” 

When Satoru stood back up, he placed his hands on his hips and looked me over with a few approving nods, “Mhm. Yep, that’s a perfect Lena-rito if I’ve ever seen one.” He moved to my feet to find the white cord, then bent over and plugged it in a nearby outlet. 

I couldn’t help but chuckle to this, smiling ear to ear, “Satoru, you’re a fucking idiot!” 

“And you’re a Lena-rito.” Satoru stated matter-of-factly, striding over to a nearby closet and grabbing his jacket, “Both things can be true simultaneously.” He shrugged into a navy blue and yellow, 90s-style windbreaker. 

I scoffed out a laugh at his nonsense logic, shaking my head, “What does that even mean??” 

After zipping up his jacket, Satoru approached the bed and bent over at his waist, placing his hands on either side of my head, “It means you’re so cute I could eat you up.” He quickly pecked my lips, but remained close to me after doing so, “Now, is there anything else you need from the store? A snack?” 

“Hm,” I thought for a moment, biting my lip. I watched Satoru’s eyes follow the motion, “pretzels, please.” 

“Regular, or chocolate-covered?” Satoru met my gaze again and leaned in even closer. 

“Ooo, chocolate-covered!” I lit up at the idea of the sweet and salty combo. 

Satoru stood back up, repeating the short list of items to himself, “Variety pack tampons and chocolate-covered pretzels. Got it.” He turned and made his way towards the door that led to the outer deck of the boat, “I’ll be back in 15, 20 minutes tops.” 

“Okay!” I called back, beginning to relax even more as I felt the blanket’s heat begin to kick in. 

Satoru winked at me before departing, closing the door behind him. It was silent for a moment, but then the door abruptly opened once more. Satoru stood at the doorway, simply looking at me with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Forget something?” I quirked my brow. 

“I sure did.” He made a beeline for the bed again, reaching over to hold my cheeks as he suddenly and swiftly pressed his lips to mine in a long kiss. 

~ 

Hours later, unbeknownst to myself I wrestled around in my sleep—tormented by the same repetitive nightmare. 

It was the night after my mother’s funeral. I was six years old, long curls fastened up neatly in a high, braided ponytail my nanny Aiko had done for me as I quietly creeped down the long hallway of the main building of the Okamoto residence: the family property that I used to call home. I fiddled with the frilly ends of my black skirt as I walked down the hall, ears tuned to the strange, strained voice that seemed to squeeze itself out of my father’s study. It couldn’t be him. Dad never cried. And he hadn’t smiled since mom’s illness started to worsen over a year ago.  

Why did my mom have to go? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t do anything wrong. All she ever did was help the people around her. Even when she was disrespected, doubted, and rejected by members of our own family, she never let it defeat her. Her smile never faltered, even until the very end. She was so strong. Even when she wasn’t feeling well, she still loved to laugh, play dress up, and bake sweets with me. I could never forget the image of her face on the last day I’d seen her—the way the corners of her mouth curved up into a gentle, knowing smile. He way she wrapped her long, amber arms around me and cooed, “You’re ok.” over and over. I wasn’t. She wasn’t. The way she seemingly showed no fear for the illness that had its vicious hands wrapped around every part of her, that had done its best to extinguish her life and won. My heart sank at her memory, the loss of my very best friend.  

When I reached the door of my father’s study, I noticed that the door was already ajar. I peeked in through the small crack, eyes widening and mouth falling agape when I saw my father’s state. It was him. He was... crying? I had never seen him like this before. His black tie had been loosened into a messy state, his white button-down shirt stained with drops of deep, brown liquid. My eyes found the source on his desk, a half-drunk bottle of whisky that’s cap was nowhere in sight. His fingers desperately gripped the edges of a picture frame that’s picture I couldn’t make out from behind the office door—grasping it as if he was holding on for dear life, like he himself just might die if he let go.  

His lips were pulled back tightly in a pained grimace, teeth visible from how harshly the muscles of his face had contorted his expression. He was hurting, too. He was hurting just as much as I was. In the past, and even throughout mom’s sickness, he’d acted so cold and emotionless that I never expected he was... Had it all been a front?  

I pushed the door open at the sight of my dad, broken by the loss of his wife and my mother. I wanted to hug him, to cry with him, “Daddy...!” The tears were already running down my cheeks.  

His eyes turned to me in surprise, then widened, then quickly narrowed. Somehow, he seemed to grip the picture frame even harder, “Lena?! Whaaat are you doing here??!” His words came out loud and slurred, voice both strained and uneven.  

“I miss mommy!” I began to wipe at the tears that endlessly streamed down my face, already striding towards him.  

“Get out!!” He yelled the words.  

“But dad-”  

“I said, GET OUT!!!”  

Before I’d even registered my father’s movements, my forehead stung with a sharp, hot pain. I touched it hesitantly, freezing when I drew my hand back and saw blood on my fingers. I looked down at my side, the now broken picture frame at my feet. I saw the picture of my mom and dad holding each other and smiling brightly peek out the mess of broken glass.  

When I looked up at my father again, I froze. He... hit me...?  

“...D-Daddy?” My voice trembled when I spoke, in complete disbelief of what had just happened.  

“It’s your fucking fault!!”  

Still locked where I stood at the side of my father’s desk, I flinched at the sound of his voice alone, my sadness completely and quickly replaced with fear. He was angry.  

“You did this to her!!” My father screamed the words, voice breaking and strained in a tone I had never heard before, “You took her away from me...!” He sobbed the last part, tears spilling from his eyes as he hiccupped with a pained wince. It was like my presence alone physically hurt him. My father grabbed the bottle of whisky, bringing the mouth of it to his lips before taking a long series of hard gulps. When he finished, his eyes returned to me and his expression turned to one of anger and disgust, “You never should’ve been born.”  

Mouth still agape in shock, I blinked, and two more tears rolled down my red, puffy cheeks, “No...!”  

My father reared his arm back that was fisting the bottle’s neck and I instinctively flinched to one side, closing my eyes and preparing for the impact of it, “She only got sick after having you!!” He threw the bottle at the end of his scream, emphasizing the word ‘you’ with his strained tone. The glass shattered on the wall beside me and the brown liquid splashed all over my clothes, face, and hair.  

I cried, loud sobs fleeing my throat as a mix of fear, shame, and sadness sank heavily in my chest, “I’m sorry!!” I wailed and howled uncontrollably. I already knew it. I’d overheard the nurses once, a year ago, talking about the long-term postpartum illness that my mother continuously suffered from. But when I asked mommy about it, she’d reassured me over and over. She hugged me tightly in her hospital bed, shaking her head and repeating over and over with a confident, comforting smile that it wasn’t—it wasn’t my fault. I’d almost believed her.  

Until now.  

“Sorry’s not gonna bring her back!” My father spat, standing from his seat at his desk and abruptly approaching me with staggered steps. I continued to cry helplessly, too taken over by grief and guilt to move from where I stood beside the desk. I yelped when my father painfully gripped and pulled my small arm up with the full strength of a grown man, looking up at him again in fear as I felt the blood on my forehead drip down to my eyelid and blur my vision, “You already killed her!!!” He screamed and reared his hand back once more...  

And I jolted upright in bed just before his hand made contact with me. It took me a few seconds to recognize my surroundings; I was on Satoru’s boat, in the little bedroom beneath the main deck. I gasped and panted heavily for air as I felt my heart race, hearing it beat heavily in my head as my eyes roamed around the dark room—the only source of light being the full moon’s that poured in through the bedside window. 

I looked over and saw that Satoru was already awake, reclined back on the pillow beside me with his hand on my back, and face full of concern, “Lena... bad dream?” Brows furrowed, his tone was deep and hoarse with sleep. 

I looked away and nodded quietly, quickly wiping away the tears on my face. He shouldn’t see me like this, not after our first date.  

Satoru sat up a bit with me, his warm hand slipping up the fabric of my shirt—his shirt, really, as I was wearing it as makeshift pajamas. He rubbed his hand up and down the length of my back, “You wanna talk about it?” 

I sniffled once, “No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. I just wanted this moment to be over, for us to go back to resting and enjoying each other’s presence, “sorry...” 

“Hey, it’s okay... c’mere.” Satoru used his hand on my back to gently nudge me closer to him, and I finally looked in his eyes. The moonlight highlighted his white hair and eyelashes as he smiled gently, calmly, even. He was so handsome. Only in his boxers, his chest was completely bare, and the toned muscles there lightly rippled beneath warm ivory skin as his hand continued its rubbing up and down my back. 

I leaned in and rested my cheek on the corner of his shoulder and pec, wrapping my arm around the width of his abdomen as I felt his chin rest on top of my head. I closed my eyes, just wanting to forget it all. 

“I’ve got you.” Ear to his chest, I heard Satoru’s voice gently buzz and rumble throughout his body. His fingers drew circles in the small of my back, and the warmth of his body and touch caused me to close my eyes. There was a long silence. 

“It’s my period.” I blamed my cycle, trying to dismiss my own discomfort about this situation. What if he thought I was weird for suddenly crying like that?  

Satoru’s chest gently twitched with a small huff of a chuckle, causing my head to shift, “Periods give you nightmares, too?” He asked, sleepily, “Now that’s just mean.” 

“Sorry for waking you.” I said softly, eyes still closed. 

“Stop apologizing.” Satoru groaned, and I felt him press a peck to the top of my head, “It’s fine, Lena, really.” 

~ 

It seemed like the more time I spent with Satoru, the more of his clothes I acquired. The next morning, I was dressed in his black long sleeve shirt, the name ‘GOJO’ in small white letters on the left side of my chest. It was supposed to be fitted but was oversized on my much narrower shoulders. I’d tucked the shirt into the same high-waisted blue jeans I’d worn yesterday and wore my checkered long coat on top to combat the cold morning breeze by the docks. 

Satoru walked me back towards the stretch of sidewalk at the entrance of the yacht club, currently dressed up far nicer than I was as we were headed two separate places: him, to work; and me, back home. He wore a gray business suit with a black tie and had a white cashmere scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. Just as we reached the end of the walkway, a black car pulled up and the driver turned off the engine—presumably my ride. 

“They’ll take you back to your apartment, or wherever you want to go. Even as far as your mom’s place outside the city in Yamanashi.” 

I nodded a few times, hands stuffed in my pockets to keep warm. It really was cold this early in the morning. I turned to him, shoulders slightly raised beneath my jacket to brace the frigid weather, “Thanks, Satoru.” I smiled. 

Satoru faced me and looked me over with a light smirk before moving in close, removing his scarf before neatly looping it around my head, “Did you have fun?” He asked in a low voice, slipping his hands around my waist after he’d finished putting his scarf on me. I was starting to get used to his proximity like this. Emphasis on starting...  

I looked up at Satoru as he moved around me, admiring the way the morning sunrise accented his skin and filtered through his white eyelashes. Immediately I felt the warmth of the scarf shield and heat up my cold ears and nose, Satoru’s cologne just slightly noticeable on the fabric, “Yes, I did.” I said comfortably, appreciating his gentle embrace. 

“Good, so did I.” Satoru paused, slowly moving his hands so that his arms locked around my waist and I moved closer to him. I arched back a little so I could still see his face, “Can I see you again? Maybe this weekend?” He added, smirk growing. 

“You’re trying to take up all my free time, aren’t you?” I challenged playfully, slipping my hand up to poke my index in the direction of his face. 

“Well, yes.” Satoru said simply, and I busted into a fit of giggles. While I laughed, one of Satoru’s arms moved from my waist and his hand embraced mine before pulling my cool fingers to his warm lips. He gave them two small pecks, and the tenderness of his gesture pulled at my heartstrings—causing me to pause in my giggling to simply watch the man and soak up his touch. So sweet. It made me imagine what kind of lover he was. 

Satoru’s other arm left my waist as well, and he cupped both of his hands on my cheeks to kiss my forehead, then tilted my bead back to press his lips to mine. I allowed myself to be maneuvered, closing my eyes when he bent in to kiss me—it made me forget where I was completely. I got lost in his lips, and before I knew it Satoru had deepened the peck into a long, slow kiss. I could have sworn I’d heard the clicking of a shutter, but I was too preoccupied with Satoru to notice. 

When we pulled apart, Satoru reached down to open the door to the black car for me, “You’ll call me when you get in?” 

I nodded shyly, about to turn to enter the car when Satoru’s arm swiftly pulls me back in to face him, only a few centimeters apart. My eyes widen a bit at our sudden proximity. 

“You’ll call me; right, Lena?” His tone lowered considerably, eyes locking directly with mine. Oh, he wanted me to answer verbally.  

“Yes, I’ll call you.” I perked up, a bit amazed at how easy it was for him to move me around; I had no bratty comebacks for him today. My stomach fluttered with excitement. 

“That’s better.” Satoru smirked confidently, then helped me into the car. I blushed profusely at his words, turning away and hiding my face in the scarf as I buckled my seatbelt. I turned back to him after doing so. 

Satoru leaned on the open car door for a moment, “Get some rest this morning. There’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you wake up.” He winked down at me and quickly shut the door. 

I rolled down the tinted window, “A surprise??” I questioned, honestly curious to what it could be. 

“Uh huh.” He tapped the black car, and the driver started the engine, “Bye, Lena.” He grinned. 

Satoru and his damn surprises. I shook my head and chuckled under my breath as the car slowly began to pull off, “Bye, Satoru.” 

[orivaa-kun]

ride for me | chapter 1: on your mark

chapter word count: 12.8k warnings: mature (18+), drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem OC series summary: Lena Okamoto was emotionally estranged from her father—the CEO of Okamoto Group, a Tokyo-based, multi billion-dollar sports car manufacturing company—after her mother died due to a longterm, post-pregnancy related illness when she was a kid. Amidst her father’s misdirected blame for this, now 27, Lena is finally back in the city. She’s introverted and troubled by her past with her father and step-family, but hardworking and anxious to prove herself to everyone: that she can create the best cars for the Okamoto brand and the fastest engines for their Formula 1 cars. Satoru Gojo is the face of Gojo Industries—the corporation that practically owns Tokyo with its advanced tech that can be found all over the city. Unlike Lena in many ways, the confident and extroverted man leads a completely different, unblemished life—having basically had a spoiled upbringing, and the only trying aspect of his life being the sheer amount of his company responsibilities, obligations, and public appearances. When the two meet, both of their lives change completely. Will they be able to juggle their relationship, trying professional careers, family dynamics, and public image all at once? Sacrifices will have to be made.

I was repairing a 2026 OXB 600—one of our upcoming Okamoto car models. This one had an all-black exterior and black and red leather interior. The sports car hung so low to the ground that Jin had to lift it on a crank for me to get to the underside and tune the shock absorbers and anti-roll bars. After seven long rounds of testing, we were finally closing out our journey of getting all the issues out. Soon we’d get the OXB 6 out of production and make it to the fun part—the sales phase. The point at which our Okamoto brand loyalists and other luxury car fans could finally get to experience the fun of driving this thing around. 

I rolled from under the car when I felt my phone buzz, dropping the wrench on the floor at my side before using the already exhaust-spotted rag in my front pocket to wipe off my hands. I retrieved my cell from the other; it was Yuko. 

‘Lenaaaaa!! You free tonight?’  

I began to type out my response, ‘hey Yuko! and uhhh yes! what’s up?’ I hit send and her reply came in immediately. 

‘I got an extra ticket for the Gojo Industries Gala! Wanna come?’  

I moved to sit upright on my rolling stool, re-reading her message before typing again, gojo industries? like the family that runs tokyo??’  

‘Yes that Gojo family lol. You’ve been to one of their galas before, right?’ Again, Yuko’s reply came in lightning fast. 

‘no, funny enough lmao. i always decline those kinda invitations.’   

It was true. Though I was the first daughter of Okamoto family—my dad being the primary shareholder and CEO of the Okamoto Group—the Japanese automobile manufacturing company that has belonged to our family for over 100 years; I didn’t like any extraneous social interactions with my family outside of my job. Anyone really close to me knew why, but I’d only met Yuko after I’d graduated college—when keeping distance from my step-siblings, step-mom, and dad became much easier. 

Yuko’s response chimed on my iPhone and I tapped the notification, ‘What? No way! But please come with meeee! I wanna go with you!’ I simply stared at her reply for a moment. 

She’d correctly figured that this was exactly the type of event my family would attend, but didn’t know why I’d always chosen not to. And why would she? It wasn’t like I brought up the topic much these days, even amongst friends. I was free from my family outside of my job, and I loved my job to death. Having to deal with the occasional family company-related issues and drama were nothing if it meant I got to work on and create the cars of my dreams, to see people from all over the world enjoy the machines borne out of my imagination. 

What could go wrong? 

‘okay, okay I’ll go lol! what time are we arriving?’ I tapped send on my reply and stuffed my phone back into my navy Okamoto-branded jumpsuit, the family name stitched in thick white letters across my chest. I stood up from the floor of the production repairs center, removing the protective glasses from my face and placing my hands on my hips as I looked around for Jin—the assistant new model specialist himself. 

I spotted him through the wall of clear glass window that separated the repair center from a few offices and a large breakroom. There he sat, slurping away at what looked like cup ramen. I stretched back, extending my arms in the air to release the bit of tension in my lower back and yawning before approaching the door to the breakroom. 

I poked my head in, “Jin?” 

He finished a massive bite of noodles and chewed before putting his cup down and responding, “Mhm, what’s up Lena?” 

I fully stepped into the break room. Something about its warm lighting suddenly caused my exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks. I sighed and wiped my forehead with the outer sleeve of my forearm, “…Do I need a break?” Jin would give me an honest answer. 

The black-haired man checked his watch before responding, “Well, you’ve been working for… 11 and a half hours straight now and only stopped to use the bathroom. What do you think?” He spoke in a playfully sarcastic tone. 

My eyes widened, “Has it really been that long?” I turned to look out the window, only now realizing that the sun was setting, “Fuck.” I closed my eyes for a moment and rubbed my temples. Why did this always tend happen right when I got into the rhythm of working? Grandpa would tell me I was hyper fixating like I always did when finishing a new model. 

“Yes. And it's fuckin' Sunday.” He put his cup of ramen down and folded his arms across his chest sternly, almost parent-like. Well, he was a dad after all. He was only three years older than me, and though I was technically his superior, we didn’t care about titles and things like that. In fact, I really needed his leadership at times. Like now. 

“Well, I was wondering if you could finish up the OXB 600 repairs for the test drive tomorrow?” I smiled sheepishly. 

Jin sighed, visibly relieved, “Yes, Lena. Of course I’ll finish the repairs. You know you don’t have to ask me that. Now, please get out of here. And please get something to eat.” He pressed his flattened hands together pleadingly. 

I rubbed the back of my neck, “Thanks, Jin.” 

He waved my thanks away, as if my words had physically traveled to him in the air, “You can thank me by getting the fuck outta here and taking the break you deserve. Seriously, leave some work for me to do, will ya?” 

“Fineeee.” I rolled my eyes, the smile on my face telling how grateful I was for the guy. I began to open the door once more, this time exiting towards the changing rooms, “See you tomorrow, Jin!” I waved. 

“See ya bright and early for the test drive!” He waved back before turning his attention back to his cup ramen. 

When I walked out the mechanical repair center and to the changing rooms, my eyes caught the small piece of paper that rested on the women’s locker room sign, covering the word ‘WOMEN’S’ and replacing it in poorly written black marker on white notebook paper, now reading, ‘LENA’S lockers.’ Ha ha, very funny. I curled my lip a bit in disapproval at the sight. This was definitely Kaito’s handwriting, another assistant mechanic in production. 

Maybe it was funny to some, the fact that I was not only the oldest child in the Okamoto family, but had worked hard enough to prove myself over the years… busting my ass in manufacturing and production roles to eventually become the youngest Chief Designer and VP of Style at Okamoto Group since the inception of the automotive company, at 27. And that I’d done all of this while being a woman, the only woman in model design at Okamoto—a reality that had subjected me to countless jokes over the past decade. 

I guess I should’ve been grateful for Kaito’s joke being so light. Years ago, the jokes made at my expense had been much worse than this. And at the very least, Kaito was right. I was the only woman who worked in this building; it wasn’t like anyone else was going to use the women’s locker room. 

~ 

Three hours, one MOS wagyu burger with fries, and one long shower and outfit change later, I finally arrived at the Gojo Industries Gala. I pulled up to the castle-like mansion’s circle in my red ’84 Ferrari 288 GTO, lightly revving the engine to pull a few meters forward before putting the car in park. 

I popped the door open and stepped out in tall stiletto black heels. I wore a champagne colored, backless silk maxi dress with a gold pendant and long string of crystals down the back of it. My long, dark brown 2c curls were neatly brushed and tied into a low bun, accented by my golden teardrop earrings. A hand extended its way before my open door, and I looked up to realize it was one of the valet staff for the event. 

He simply smiled at first, but then something must have clicked in his head because his expression turned into a shocked one. Did he recognize me? I lightly grasped his hand and stepped out of the low vehicle, offering a small smile, “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god wait—you’re Lena Okamoto, right?!!” I was right. Even in his all-black valet uniform, he didn’t look much older than a teenager. Maybe 22 max? 

My smile grew a bit, “Yes, that’s me.” I readjusted my dress a bit, smoothing the fabric out with the flat of my hand before grabbing my clutch. 

“What?! You’re like, amazing!!”  

He placed his hands on top of his head in disbelief, and I didn’t know how to respond, so I just giggled, “Thank you.” It’d nearly been a year since I became Chief Designer and VP of Style at Okamoto Group, but I still wasn’t used to the occasional fans. Even more so, because my field was almost completely dominated by men, so were the fans... and needless to say, the comments I got from luxury car aficionados sometimes turned weird. 

His hands were still on his head, “Oh my god, I love the 2019 OXB 299!” His gaze abruptly cut towards my car, “Wait—is that a...” 

“’84 288 GTO?” We said the Ferrari car model at the same time, “Yes.” I confirmed with a few small nods. Part of me was relieved that the car now had his full attention, instead of me. 

“Oh my god...” How many times was he going to say that? “Any mods?” He leaned in a bit closer to check out the body of the car. 

“Just a few tunes to the engine and the suspension, that’s all.” I retrieved the key from my clutch. 

“Ugh, I wanna know all the details...!” He bent on one knee to check out the wheels, then glanced back to me for a moment, “You did them all yourself?” 

“Of course.” I said smoothly. 

He turned back towards the car again, standing back to his feet, “God, that’s so hot...” 

And there it was, the awkward fan comment of the evening. I’d been working on cars since I was a kid; of course I’d done all the mods myself. Why was that such a crazy notion? Though, I couldn’t tell if the comment was directly aimed towards me since the guy was currently staring at the car. I laughed a bit, the kid was kind of funny. I tossed him the key and he caught it in his hands at the center of his chest. 

“Why don’t you find out about the mods for yourself, then?” I smirked, before fishing out a ¥10,000 bill from my clutch. 

“What?! No way...! I couldn’t!” 

I chuckled, “But it’s your job.” I offered him the bill. 

He accepts the tip with both hands. It wasn’t really a thing here in Japan, but it was something I’d gotten used to while living and traveling abroad so often, “Oh, shit, yeah...” He slapped his palm over his face, “Sorry, thank you! Thank you so much, Ms. Okamoto!” 

“No problem, have fun!” I waved, heading towards the large double doors to the mansion. 

“You’re literally the best! LeNation!” 

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing and simply nodded. ‘LeNation’ was the fan group name people online had come up with on the Okamoto Group Reddit... It was so cringe-worthy, but I figured there was no harm if the few fans I did have liked it. 

“Welcome, Ms. Okamoto.” One of the women at the door with an iPad greeted me with a bow as two men behind her opened the doors. 

“Thanks.” I bowed my head, fixing a loose curl at my ear before standing upright once more. 

When the doors opened, loud electronic music pours out. Yuko definitely had a good idea in deciding for us to arrive after the reception start time, 10pm, because I honestly couldn’t imagine having to sit through a long, course-style dinner at a table full of Okamotos—actually, that sounded like my personal hell. 

I spotted Yuko nearby the ballroom entrance, and she reached her arms out when she looked up from her phone, “Lena!” 

“Hey Yuko!” I mirrored her excitement, it had been over a month since I’d seen her. 

She hugged me tightly, “Ahh, it’s so good to see you!” She let go of me just as quick to check out my fit, “Oh my god I’m obsessed with your dress! You look so gorgeous!” 

“So do you!” I chimed in, appreciating the baby blue silk midi dress she had on. 

“Ughh,” she grumbled, “I wish my back looked as good as yours...” 

“Shut up, your back is fine.” I rolled my eyes, “And if you wanna strengthen your back you should come to another pilates class with me.” I challenged with a smirk. 

She waved the idea away, “Well, last time I took a pilates class with you I almost fucking died, so, no. I’ll stick to my running, thank you very much!” 

I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand a bit. I’d missed Yuko. 

“But forget that, come on!” Yuko locked her arm in mine and guided me to the ballroom. 

When we got inside, I realized just how massive the Gojo estate was. This was the oldest of old money. The ceilings were insanely high with elaborate white gold and crystal chandeliers, and the room was made almost completely out of the expensive stuff, white Statuario marble. There were old, full-body portrait paintings of old Gojo family heads on the walls, and even statues in the corners of the massive room. It was so huge and over-decorated and old... 

“Whoa, this is...” I trailed off. 

“Huge?” Yuko suggested. 

“I mean, I was gonna say ugly but yeah that, too!” 

Yuko guffawed at this, “I kinda like it! It’s so grandiose!” 

“Mhm,” I nodded, slightly chuckling under my breath. 

The ballroom floor was filled almost completely with tables with white tablecloths and intricately hand-carved wooden chairs, but at the center there was a large, makeshift wooden dance floor—definitely something that had been added just for this occasion. The older attendees had filtered out by now as all the speeches and presentations were over, and almost all the people who remained were 20s and 30-somethings packing out the dance floor. 

One of the catering staff walked by with a tray of champagne-filled glasses, and Yuko grabbed two, offering one of them to me, “Drink up, girl, I’ve already had two!” 

“Yuko, how long have you been here?” I quirked a brow. 

“Just, like, 20 minutes.” She spoke in an intentionally cute kind-of-way, tucking imaginary hair behind her ears for a dramatic effect as her auburn strands were already neatly tied up in a high ponytail. 

“Yuko! Slow down!” I said with a small laugh, taking both glasses from her and beginning to sip from one. I returned the other to the silver tray and nodded once to the staff woman to thank her. 

“But Lena...!” She pouted her lips, “I wanna get fucked up and dance with cute guys! Plus, my friend Aiko said she would be my designated driver.” 

I tucked my clutch under my arm and patted Yuko’s head with my free hand, she was a bit shorter than me even without our heels, “Still, drink in moderation please.” 

“Okay, fine, but no mom mode tonight, Lena! I want you to have fun!”  

“I can have fun...!” I bobbed my head to the loud, electronic beat as I sipped my champagne, throwing in a few intentionally comical fist pumps after. 

Both Yuko and I busted out laughing. It was not exactly the kind of music one could dance to.  

“So, how’s work?” Yuko asked. Just then the song changed to a lower and slower r&b number. 

“Oh, it’s fine. Just trying to finish up production on the new OXB model.” 

Yuko cut her eyes at me, “Don’t tell me you’re working on the car mechanics, again...” 

I shrugged innocently, “What? I like it!” 

“Lena! You’re the Chief Designer now! You don’t have to touch a car engine again if you don’t want to!” 

I pouted my lips in a deep frown at the idea, honestly thinking of how sad that reality would be, “But I like touching car engines...” 

“You need to try touching some muscles instead—way more fun, let me tell you.” Yuko nodded to herself confidently. 

“But Yuko, a guy can’t go 290 kph...!” I complained. 

“True! But still, you’re gonna work yourself sick if you keep trying to do everything yourself! And I need my friend...” Yuko wrapped her arms around me, briefly resting her head in the crook of my shoulder and neck, “At least let people help you from time to time.” 

“I will, I’ll be careful.” I tilted my head to rest it on top of hers. 

Yuko released me from her embrace, “And take some PTO, too!” She poked her finger in my direction, only playfully menacing. 

“Alright, alright. But enough about me! How’s the lingerie business—” I stopped in my sentence when a brown-haired man in a black tux approached Yuko, extending his hand to her. 

“Can I have this dance?” His voice sounded a bit higher than expected, but he was pretty decent looks-wise. 

Yuko’s expression brightened to one of excitement, “Oh, yes, absolutely!” She glanced back to me while taking his hand, “We’ll catch up later, Lena!” 

“Yeah, I’ll be at the bar!” I smirked and poked my thumb in the space behind me, gesturing to the long wooden bar that stretched across the back of the ballroom. 

“Ok, I’ll see you!” Yuko waved as the guy pulled her towards the dance floor. 

I turned and made a beeline for the bar; I wasn’t really in the mood for champagne, anyways. The long stretch of old, polished wooden countertop was mostly bare outside of a few people getting new cocktails and refills on their wine. I sat down on one of the leather stools near the end of it, placing my clutch down on top of the bar and holding the edge of the counter with my hands. 

I lightly tapped my fingers to the slow rhythm of the song when a bartender approached me with a smile. 

“What can I get you, ma’am?” 

I thought for a moment, glancing up into the air, “Hmm... What whiskeys do you have?” 

“Ooo, a whiskey lover.” He grinned, “Do you like barrel aged?” 

“I do.” I nodded once. 

“Well, then there’s a delicious, Yamazaki 55-year-old single malt we’ve got that I think you’ll love.” 

My eyebrows rose a little, “No shit... I’ve been looking around everywhere for a bottle of that! Can only get my hands on the Karuizawa 52...” My jaw dropped a bit in disbelief, “You’re telling me the damn Gojos had them all this time?” 

“Uh-huh.” The bartender confirmed. 

I sighed, shaking my head, “Of course they did.” 

“You really know your whiskey.” The bartender grinned again, briefly squatting to retrieve the bottle from under the bar. He removed the top and began to pour me a shot into a visibly handmade glass. 

“Yeah, not like it makes any difference when the Go—” 

“Arata, you got any sparkling cider back there?” 

It felt like I was going to get cut off all night. 

Suddenly there was a very tall white-haired man at my side. He was wearing a midnight blue tuxedo that was perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and toned frame, and his eyes were a piercing, light blue. Those eyes in combination with the hair, chiseled jawline, and noticeably muscular body told me everything I needed to know about him, or so I thought—that he got a lot of attention from women. He was so handsome, it was almost annoying. Especially since he’d cut me off. 

“The other side of the bar didn’t have any.” The man’s eyes were focused on the bartender. 

“Yeah, we got some, boss.” Arata quickly closed the Yamazaki bottle and opened a small fridge behind the bar, looking around for a while before eventually grabbing a bottle of sparkling apple cider. Apple juice? Maybe he was trying to pace his drinking?  

“Thanks.” 

Arata popped the bottle and grabbed a champagne flute before filling it, “Anytime, boss.” 

“Hi.” The white-haired man turned toward me, propping his elbow up on the countertop with a soft smile and sultry tone. His expression was the kind that immediately erased any sort of annoyance I was trying to harbor for him. This was exactly how pretty boys got away with shit, “Sorry, did I interrupt?” He blinked a few times. 

Fuck you, and your long lashes. Though I was aware of it, the magic of his looks had still worked on me, “Hi. And no, it’s fine.” I looked away and took a small sip from my glass of whiskey, feeling his eyes on me the whole while. I couldn’t deny, it made me a little nervous. Thankfully, the whiskey was delicious. 

He took the stool next to me and bent closer, gesturing to the gold bracelet on my left wrist, “Is that... a MutaKin bio band?” 

I nod, “Mhm.” It was a wristband that tracked sleep, fitness, and stress insights for wellness with phone call and text capabilities, all disguised as a solid gold bracelet. 

He lowered his voice considerably, softening his tone with curiosity, “That tech’s not on the market yet...” He smirked devilishly, “How’d you get your hands on it?” Arata placed the champagne flute before the man, but he ignored it and continued looking at me. Why was he looking at me like that?  

“My friend Kokichi gave it to me.” I simply mused. 

He quirked a brow, “You know Kokichi Muta, too?” 

“Yeah, I save his ass all the time.” I chuckled the words out, taking another sip from my glass. 

“Wait, what’s your name?” The white-haired man looked confused for a moment but continued to smirk, offering his hand to me. 

“Lena Okamoto.” I grasped his much larger hand with my own. 

“You’re an Okamoto? Wait—you’re the new Chief Designer and VP of Style, no?” He bent even closer to me to the point where I could faintly smell his cologne, blue eyes full of wonder. 

“That’s me.” I nodded a few times, smiling, even though I felt my pulse beating loudly in my neck. Was it getting hot in here?  

“How come I’ve never seen you at one of these before? I didn’t even see you at your family’s table.” 

“You mean at these big ugly mansion parties?” I looked around at the grandeur of the ballroom once more, before glancing back up at the man once more and shaking my head briefly, “I got here when the reception started. Staring at giant paintings of old dead guys for hours is not really my scene.” 

“Big ugly mansion??” His expression was one of slight disbelief, but he looked around the ballroom as well, eventually agreeing, “Well, I guess this one is a bit much, huh?” His eyes caught mine once more, his gaze even softer this time. He was still holding my hand.  

I swallowed hard, “What’s your name?” 

Something flashed in the white-haired man’s eyes, maybe a mix of surprise and intrigue at my question, “Satoru... Satoru Gojo.” Oh. That was why.  

I quickly snatched my hand out of his grasp in shock, covering my mouth with both hands and a gasp. I should’ve known from his white hair. Not only did he own this estate, but his family also basically owned the whole city of Tokyo, “Oh, oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say all that about your home!” If my dress wasn’t backless, I definitely would’ve been sweating by now. 

Satoru chuckled and shook his head, dismissing but also visibly enjoying my reaction, “Don’t worry about it, Lena. Seriously.” He looked like he suddenly remembered something, “Hold on, if you just got here, did you eat?” 

“It’s ok, I grabbed something on the way here.” 

“Did you get any dessert, at least?” Satoru seemed pretty passionate about this subject, from his tone. 

I shook my head. 

“You didn’t have any of the cake?!” Satoru sat up straight, “Suguru's white cake is the best on earth, Lena! You have to have some.” 

I laughed; it was funny, seeing a grown man so frustrated over me not having dessert, “Is it that serious?” 

“Yes...!” Gojo raised his voice a little, tone dripping with exasperation, he looked around the bar, toward one of the exits, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you some...” He said the last bit more to himself, scoping the scene and pressing his hand to my back as he took a swig of his sparkling cider with the other. 

Satoru’s hand on my bare skin startled me a bit and I twitched upright, sucking in a breath—I’d almost forgotten that my dress was backless. His thumb unconsciously rubbed up my spine and my cheeks reddened. Why was he doing that?!  

I cleared my throat, “I’ll be alright, even if I don’t have any ca—” 

“LENA?!”  

I kept getting cut off all evening. 

The piercing, almost shriek-like voice came from over my shoulder. I already knew who it was from the assault on my ears alone—Akie. 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again and turning in my stool. When I looked back, I saw my younger twin stepsisters side by side, Akira and Akie. Satoru dropped his hand from my back with a questioning look in his eyes. He looked from me to them, then back to me. Part of me wondered what he was thinking, but I mostly just wanted the interaction I was about to have with my stepsisters over as quickly as possible. 

“Hi, Akie, Akira...” I did little to hide my uninterested, slightly condescending tone, but attempted to keep things peaceful here in public, nonetheless. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Akira asked me, voice filled with disgust. She and Akie looked me over, staring daggers into me as they assessed my dress. It was a bit unsettling, seeing them in their matching red mini-dresses and black bob cuts. I could’ve sworn they were one entity, the way they operated like this. 

“Hey, I get invited to these things, too, you know.” I managed to smirk, lifting my glass of whiskey from the bar to take a sip, “Plus a friend wanted me to come.” 

“But you don’t even have social skills,” Akie laughed, and her twin chimed in at a matching, equally unnerving pitch, “like what would be the point?” 

“Yeah,” Akie started, hardly able to breathe from laughing so much, “shouldn’t you be crawling under a car or something right about now?” 

I was too old for this shit. 

Go on, get your fucking jokes out. I took another sip from my glass, unphased by their words after all these years. I guess I should’ve been thankful; this was pretty light for the twins. 

“And why are you talking to Satoru Gojo?” Akira asked. 

“Actually, we were just having a very important conversation.” To my surprise, the man quickly jumps in, glancing from the twins, then back to me with a stern, examining look in his eyes. 

I blinked, eyes widening and looking up to Satoru at his words. We were?  

“Really? About what?” Akie questioned in disbelief, obviously curious about the nature of our conversation. 

“We have to go right now.” Gojo concluded, and I was even more confused. 

The twins were even more so, “What?! Why??!” Akira demanded an answer, but Satoru was already standing from his stool, grabbing my arm, and pulling me away from the bar. I had just enough time to place my glass back down on the bar and grab my clutch before I was hauled away. 

“Where are you two going?” Akira asked again, voice getting louder. 

“Sorry, no time!” Satoru didn’t turn when he spoke, only waving before continuing to pull me towards a d00r near the back of the ballroom. There were two very strong looking guards who stood in front of it. Satoru nodded to them and they opened the door for us before they closed it back. 

Now we were in a long, wide hallway with elaborate blue and white tile. I’d almost forgotten to speak up, “Uh, Satoru...? Where are we going?” 

He briefly turned back to speak to me, a wicked grin on his face, “To get cake, obviously.” He continued to pull me along. 

“Wha...” I trailed off, then laughed abruptly, not having expected that, “You’re insane.” I giggled out. 

He looked back again, this time for much longer as he watched me laugh, “Insane for cake? Maybe. But soon you will be, too.” 

After walking for a while, we finally reached an industrial-size kitchen that’s littered with tons and tons of uneaten desserts and hors d'oeuvres. Satoru finally let go of my hand and searched through the mess of plates to find a perfectly untouched cake with premium vanilla buttercream icing. 

“Bingo.” Satoru grabbed two stools from the side of the kitchen and pulled them up to a large, mostly empty kitchen island, “Have a seat.” 

I sat down on one of the stools and set my clutch down, crossing my legs and adjusting my dress as I watched the man carefully reach over the countless serving plates and lift the cake up, avoiding messing up his tux, “This better be good.” I challenged. 

“Oh, it’s life-changing...” Satoru retrieved two clean plates, two clean forks, and a cake cutting spatula from the nearby cabinets and drawers in his free hand, before setting them and the cake all down on the kitchen island and sitting beside me. 

I watched him curiously with a smile. Why was this guy so eager to get cake all of a sudden?  

Satoru cut and served me a particularly huge slice; and I immediately protested, “Oh, I can’t finish all of that.” I simply stared at the tall, three-layer slice on my plate, a bit intimidated by the amount of it. 

“Trust me.” Satoru picked up my fork for me and cut off a bite-size piece of the slice, raising the utensil to the space right in front of my lips. 

“Okay...” I opened my mouth, tilting my head forward just enough to wrap my lips around the fork and slowly pulled back, leaving the utensil completely bare of any cake or icing. Satoru blinked as if he was a bit surprised by my actions, mouth falling slightly agape as I chewed. My eyes lit up at the taste. It was delicious... Without a doubt, it was the best white cake I’d ever had, “Mm...” I rose my hand to cover my mouth a bit as I finished chewing and swallowed before speaking again, “Damn, that’s really good cake.” 

Satoru’s tone in response was much softer than mine, “No...” His blue eyes almost looked cloudy as he used his free hand to pull my mine that hovered around my mouth back to my lap. He portioned out another bite of cake into the fork and raised it before my lips once more, “Do that again.”  

I blinked at the command, noting the bit of desperation in Satoru’s deep tone. Wait, was he...? He was much closer now, the length of the fork being the only thing separating us.  

“Wha... Why?” I softly blurted out the question, frozen with nervousness. I remembered I had arms. I reached with my hand that wasn’t locked in his, attempting to grab the fork, “I can do it mys—” 

“No,” Satoru interrupted, pulling the fork out of my reach, “I want to see you do it again.” The alluring look on his face was indescribable; it was the kind of look I’d never seen on a man’s face outside of the be— 

"Will you show me, please?” Satoru’s request tore me from my own thoughts, and something stirred excitedly in my lower stomach at the sound of it. I immediately obliged him and repeated the same motions from before. I opened my mouth, tilting my head forward just enough to wrap my lips around the fork and slowly pulled back, leaving the utensil completely clean of any cake or icing. I kept my eyes on Satoru the whole time, the same as I had the last; though this time I caught him silently mouth the word ‘wow.’ His white brows furrowed together, jaw slightly ajar. Satoru eventually closed his mouth and hummed once as he watched me. He seemed frozen in this state as I chewed. 

I finally swallowed, “Um, I really like the cake...” I couldn't think of anything else to say; I was so nervous and excited. 

Satoru stifled a chuckle under his breath, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again, “You make it look like a heavenly experience, Lena.” 

“I-I don’t wanna eat it this slow...” I was dying to break the tension somehow. 

“Yeah, of course,” Satoru laughed a bit but handed me my fork, “sorry about that, beautiful.” Satoru said softly and ran a hand through his hair. His tone of voice and easygoing expression gave off the sort of warm genuineness that would have anyone giggling and kicking their feet. It made me smile. 

I shook my head, “Un mn... Just wasn’t expecting that.” I took the utensil from him, beginning to enjoy the slice of cake at my own pace, “But I still can’t finish all of this on my own,” I started to say in between bites, “you should help me with this part.” I gestured to the lower corner of the slice that was covered in frosting. 

Satoru picked up his fork and began to make a real dent in the slice with me. After easily wolfing down over half of the cake slice, he simply put his utensil down and watched me eat—his chin propped up by his arm on the kitchen island, “It’s not the big ugly mansion, is it?” 

“Hm?” I looked over at Satoru again when he spoke again, quietly chewing and blinking at him at his question. 

“The decor in my home isn’t the reason why you don’t come to the galas... it’s them, isn’t it?” 

I pause in eating my cake, gently resting the silver fork back down on the plate. Talking about the twins definitely hadn’t helped my appetite. I took a little while to respond, but eventually nodded, “Yeah.” So this was the reason he’d suddenly brought me to the kitchen.  

“I’ve seen them at the Okamoto table for the past few years now... Are they your cousins?” 

“Sisters.” I picked back up the fork, using the smooth side of it to spread out the frosting on the remaining piece of cake. 

Satoru watched me move the icing around, “They don’t look anything like you.” 

“Different moms.” I explained, a bit flatly. Jun (my youngest stepbrother), Akira and Akie’s mom and our dad were both Japanese, but my mom was half-Senegalese, half-Italian—a reality that had subjected me to years of bullying from my stepfamily. This conversation topic was visibly beginning to sour my mood. 

There was a pregnant silence. 

“...Was your mother’s name Gloria?” 

My eyes brightened with a melancholy mix of surprise and awe, “You know about her...?” I spoke the words soft, a bit slowly. My heart ached just hearing her name. I missed her so much.  

Gojo flashed me a pleasant smile, “Mhm. I remember I met her when I was really little, like, four or five.” 

“Oh yeah?” My expression brightened even more. It was clear that I wanted to know the story. 

“Yeah, one day, I’m pretty sure I got dragged to the Gojo Industries HQ building for some reason. Maybe it was bring your kid to work day? Anyways, I kept crawling under the boardroom table and tying people’s shoelaces together, so she gave me some Hi-Chew out her purse to keep me occupied.” 

I softly gasped and my jaw dropped a bit, causing my smile to grow, “Oh my god, that was definitely her! She always had strawberry Hi-Chew in her purse!’ I laughed the words out. 

“She was on to something; the strawberry flavor is definitely the best. Strawberry flavored anything, for that matter.” Satoru mused with a smirk. 

“I swear she knew how to fix any situation.” I shook my head, finally taking another bite of cake. It was clear that the topic of my mom was brightening my mood. 

“Sorry for your loss, Lena.” 

I quickly shook my head, shoveling a big piece of cake into my mouth and chewing before speaking, “It was a long time ago.” I paused, “And thanks for saving me earlier.” 

“My pleasure.” Satoru watched me curiously, abruptly letting out a single laugh, “You’ve got some...” He gestured towards my mouth. 

I placed my fork back on the plate, realizing there was something on my face, probably frosting, “Oh, where?” I swiped my bottom lip with my fingers. 

“No, up...” Satoru described, briefly poking his finger upwards as he stared at wherever the icing was on my face. 

I repeated the same swiping motion over my upper lip, searching Satoru’s face for any indication that I’d successfully gotten it off. 

He chuckled again, his smirk beginning to hint at a grin, “No,” He reached up with his own hand, the curve of his palm suddenly caressing my face while his thumb swiped the area just above my upper lip, “there.” He spoke with a bit of finality, but the digit remained on my lips. His smile fades, expression softening into one of admiration... Well, that and something else. His thumb gently rubbed its way down to my bottom lip and pressed there, slowly prying my mouth open. I felt my cheeks blush; the hunger in his eyes was undeniable. 

I tested the waters, sinfully darting my tongue out to lick the bit of frosting from his thumb. The tension between us was starting to get to me. 

Satoru locked his eyes on the lewd movement of my tongue, then met my gaze once more, watching my expression as he pressed his finger even further into my widening mouth. He didn’t waste any time, eagerly closing the space between us before pressing his lips to mine. The thumb that had been in my mouth now caressed my cheek, his other hand reaching around to press against the small of my back. Satoru easily took control of the kiss, his tongue and lips moving rhythmically and expertly against mine. I did my best to keep up—he was a far better kisser than me, and I hadn’t expected him to be this passionate. 

My hands slid up the opening of his tux jacket, one hand smoothing up the button-up shirt on his chest and the other finding and gripping his shoulder. Satoru became greedy with me as well, his hand that was previously on the small of my back now rubbing all over and teasing the bare skin of my back. I arched into him and gasped a bit when his fingers traveled up my spine, and he used this brief pause in our kissing to press his lips to my ear, “I love this dress...” His low voice gently rumbled in my ear, smooth and husky. From his tone alone, you’d think he was talking about his most favorite piece of clothing on earth. 

Before I could even attempt to respond, his mouth was already on my neck, tongue quickly flicking over the shell of my ear before he kissed and licked his way down the length of my neck. He finally reached the crook of it and my shoulder, and I panted to the kisses he pressed to the skin just above my pulse, releasing a few soft, breathy moans to the now much hotter and heavier excitement in my abdomen. Satoru was all over me; he’d turned me on so quickly that I could barely keep track of all his movements. I wanted more. I wanted his jacket off.  

I wrapped one arm around his neck and ran my hand through the undercut of his short, white locs, holding his waist with the other, “Satoru...” I moaned out breathlessly, and I felt my pelvic floor muscles clench pleasantly, almost needlingly. 

Satoru hummed out a groan in response, beginning to work on the other side of my neck, when suddenly my phone rang from inside my clutch on the kitchen island. My MutaKin bracelet started to vibrate as well, startling both me and Satoru. We both simultaneously detached from one another and sat up, and I simply stared over at the man dumbfoundedly, completely frozen as my ringtone chimed. How the hell had we gotten here?  

Satoru licked his lips before speaking, “You gonna get that?” He glanced from me, to my vibrating bracelet, then back to me. 

“Oh, shit, yeah...” I’d forgotten I had to pick up the phone. 

Satoru chuckled. 

I tapped the small, flashing red phone icon on my gold bracelet and brought it to my ear, “Hello?” 

“Lena, girl! Where are you?! I’m at the bar with Aiko and the DJ’s playing hella throwbacks right now!” I hear Yuko’s voice on the other end. It was obviously much louder in the ballroom as she was practically yelling. 

That’s right, we were supposed to meet up at the bar, “Oh hey! My bad, sorry, I’m in one of the kitchens in the back eating cake with Satoru.” 

“You’re what?! Eating cake?? With Satoru??! Like THIRTY-YEAR-OLD, BILLIONAIRE BACHELOR, GOLDEN BOY OF TOKYO, SATORU GOJO??!?”  

“Um, yes...?” I said a bit shyly, as Satoru was right in front of me and currently locking eyes with me. He chuckled under his breath to Yuko’s description. She clearly knew way more about him than I did. 

“Uhh, holy fucking shit?!” Yuko laughed, “No way! Oh my god, what’s he like?”  

“Well, he’s right in front of me, so maybe now’s not the best time to have this convo...?” I suggested bashfully, lowering my voice a bit—it was no use, there was no other noise in the kitchen and Satoru could hear everything I was saying, even the phone call. 

“Oh...! Oh, ok... I see! Well um, HI, SATORU!” Yuko called out loudly. 

Satoru bent over so he was much closer to me and my wristband, “Hi there.” He smirked. 

“Ooo! His voice is so smooth, hehe!” Yuko had definitely had another drink or two, “Okay! Well, um... Have a nice night...?” She spoke in a question-like manner, unsure of my plans for the night. I was just as lost on them as she was. 

“Uh, we’ll see. I’ll check in with you. You do the same, too, okay?” I said, finally breaking eye contact with Satoru to glance at the bracelet that displayed the current call time in small numbers :57... :58...  

“Okayyyy bye, Lena! Love you...!”  

I chuckled to her comically long, drawn out tone, “Love you, too, Yuko. Bye!” I hit the icon on my wristband to end the call. 

I glanced back up at Satoru. 

“Hi.” He said simply, propping his elbow back up on the kitchen island. 

“Hi.” I mirrored his small, knowing smile. 

Satoru caressed my hand in his, gently interlocking our fingers, “Sorry, did I move too fast?” He asked, almost shyly. 

I thought for a moment, looking into the space beside us in the kitchen before returning his gaze once more, “Maybe... Maybe we moved a little too fast there.” I smirked, stifling a chuckle under my breath. 

“Let’s start over.” He released my hand to extend his in front of me, “Hi, I’m Satoru.” 

“Lena.” I couldn’t help bit giggle to the sheer silliness of this situation as I put my hand in his. 

“Can I get to know you, Lena?” Satoru leaned close to me, his keen interest in my response more than evident in his patient tone and direct eyes. 

I slowly opened my mouth to speak. I wasn’t expecting him to be this straightforward; it had honestly caught me by surprise. I searched his eyes again; he seemed completely serious, “...Yes. I’d like to get to know you, too.” I finally responded, gently shaking his hand a few times. 

“Great. Let’s start, then.” Satoru released my hand and stood from his seat on the stool. 

“Right now?” I quirked a brow. 

“Yeah, right now.” He crossed his arms over his chest with an alluring expression on his face. 

I was unable to resist a chuckle at the man’s apparent eagerness and gazed up at him, “What do you plan for us to do?” 

Satoru thought for a moment, “Well, I would give you a tour, but the estate can get kinda spooky at night. Plus, that would take forever. Oh!” His eyes lit up and his smirk grew into a grin, “I know exactly where I wanna take you in here...” He extended his arm to me, “Will you come with me?” 

“Sure.” I stood to my feet, grabbing my clutch with one hand and hooking my other arm around his, “Where are we going?” 

“It’s a surprise.” Satoru comedically waggled his brows. 

I rolled my eyes, still smiling, “Of course it is.” 

“I think you’ll like it.” Satoru began to lead us out the kitchen’s double doors, arm in arm towards a new hallway that had a dark, wooden floor and dimly lit chandeliers down the length of it—they were much smaller than those in the ballroom, but extravagant nonetheless, “So, Lena Okamoto, you’re... 27, right?” 

“How did you know that?” I asked, curious. We walked at a slow, leisurely pace down the hall; the only sound outside of our voices being the muffled music from the now much further away ballroom. 

“I read that GQ spotlight issue on you becoming Chief Designer and VP of Style months ago.” 

“Ah, I see...” I nodded a few times. It was the issue that had kickstarted my popularity on social media—the interview and photoshoot that sparked all the good and bad press about me being a woman in an almost completely male-dominated field and role. Those who worked in the luxury and sports car business had already known me and my work for years, but of course people who had just seen me for the first time—and in a magazine, at that—had shit to say. ‘She’s just a face...’ ‘She’s probably never even touched a car part in her life...’ ‘Okay so who’s actually doing the new model designing lol?’ They didn’t know anything about me, but the facts never mattered to them in the first place. 

“When did you first start working on cars?” 

“Been working on ‘em for as long as I can remember. Though I’m pretty sure I officially started learning the basics when I was five.” 

Satoru lifted his brows to this, “Five? Damn, that’s pretty young... Did your dad teach you?” 

A single, loud, and laugh-like huff of air quickly exits my lungs, “Oh, god no. My dad can't even do an oil change on his own. My grandpa taught me everything I know. Even now I still call him with questions sometimes.” That reminded me; I should visit him soon.  

“The CEO of a car company doesn’t know how to do an oil change?? That’s kinda insane.” Satoru looked a little shocked. 

“You’re telling me.” I shook my head. 

“Good thing they have you.” Satoru gazed down at me flirtatiously. 

I giggled, “Yeah, not everyone may see things that way, but you’re right. They should be glad.” I said confidently. It was the truth. My father, Hanzo, had made countless bad decisions with our family’s company over the years due to his lack of knowledge and reluctance to learn about cars and the shifting culture around them. It was only since my team and I started working full-time at Okamoto Group that we were able to really change things for the better; and even with my years of experience working with Ferrari and Lamborghini in Italy, I couldn’t have even gotten my first position at my own family’s company without my grandpa persuading my father to let me help. 

“What’s your favorite thing about working on cars?” 

My face lit up to Satoru’s question. There was so much I could say, “I just love it all. I mean, it’s so amazing to see a bunch of drawings and equations turn into a real, physical thing that you can drive thousands of miles in any direction. To see your dreams become realities that anyone can ride in... I wanna know everything about all of them.” I said simply. My obsession ran deep, but to me, building cars was the best thing on earth. 

“It’s amazing that you want to keep learning, especially at your level. Not everyone’s like that.” Satoru said as we turned left down a new hallway. Just how big was this mansion?  

“What about you?” I asked, “Other than Gojo Industry board meetings and press conferences, what do you like to do?” 

Satoru chuckled to my words—his smile was too charming. The way his eyes slightly closed and his lips stretched up into a grin, revealing perfectly aligned, white teeth... It was the kind of sight that could never get old. Even without having been born into a billionaire family, Satoru could get anything he wanted with that smile, “I’m really into MMA.” 

“Mixed martial arts? Wow, no wonder you look like that.” I poked his bicep playfully, “When did you get into it?” 

“Well, I started karate when I was six; then judo and taekwondo... and it just built up from there. It’s not like I’m planning to be in a ring anytime soon, let alone ever, but it’s fun learning a new fighting style and pushing my physical limits in that way. 

“Aha! So, you’re a gym bro!” I said as I pointed a finger at Satoru, mock-accusingly. 

Satoru got a good laugh from that, “Just a little. But,” we stopped at a large wooden door, “we’re here. Shoes off, please.” He instructed kindly, letting go of me to remove his black leather oxfords and socks. 

I followed suit, beginning to remove my heels but becoming a little unsteady as I balanced on one foot to remove the other one’s heel. Satoru noticed my shakiness immediately and paused in removing his shoes, quickly wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me upright. 

“I got you.” 

“Thanks.” I met his eyes again once my black stilettos are off, now even shorter compared to him. 

Satoru finished removing his socks and opened the door. He then reached in and flicked on a series of lights, revealing a warm, tan and beige lounge area with massage chairs, a few couches, a TV, a full bar, and spa-like lighting that lined the perimeter of the room. Satoru stepped in and walked straight towards one of the fridges behind the bar counter, “Now, before we go to the next room, would you like anything to drink? There’s liquor, wine, cucumber water...” 

I slowly walked in behind him, rubbing my arm aimlessly, “Um, white wine sounds good, if you’ll have some with me.” 

He looked up at me from his bent over position in front of the fridge, “Oh, I don’t drink, but you’re welcome to have some...” He glanced to the bottom of the fridge again, “Sauvignon blanc!” 

“You don’t drink?” 

“Nah, I’m more of a smoker. Plus, I’m a lightweight.” Satoru stood back up to look at me once he’d retrieved the bottle. 

“As big as you are??” I stared at Satoru in disbelief. 

“Yeah, babe, two glasses of this and I’ll start taking my shirt off.” He tapped his index on the cold bottle of white wine he was holding. 

I laughed to this, “No way... But that makes sense.” 

“What makes sense?” 

“Well, you ordered sparkling cider at the bar earlier.” I explained. 

Satoru nodded, bending back over again to grab a can of cucumber flavored sparkling water, “Oh, that? I wasn’t even thirsty, really.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Me getting that cider at the bar was an excuse.” 

I was confused, “An excuse for what?” I raised my brow, crossing my arms over my chest with curiosity. 

“To talk to you.” 

Satoru had said the words so plainly and straightforwardly that it caught me completely off guard. I felt my face burn bright red and pressed my fingers to my lips at the revelation, turning away from his gaze for a second. Oh my god, shut up. I was silent for a moment, but eventually spoke again, still not facing the man whose blue eyes were burning a hole in my side. I cleared my throat, “Um, cucumber water is fine.” I said in a smaller voice. 

“You sure?” 

“Mhm.” I confirmed and finally turned back to Satoru, removing my hand from my mouth and instead deciding to tuck a loose curl behind my ear, “I don’t need the wine anyways.” 

“Cucumber water it is, then...” Satoru put the bottle back in the fridge and instead grabbed another can of sparkling water before standing upright, “You ready?” 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I shrugged a bit, giggling the words. 

When Satoru opened the door, a waft of steam and warm air hit me first before I looked in and saw a massive, indoor spa pool. He let me in before him, “Ladies first.” 

“Oh my...” I trailed off, looking around the huge, open room. The area was dimly lit and had the same cream and tan colors as the rest area, with cushioned lounge chairs, day beds, and small tables around the perimeter of the pool. The spa even faced a floor to ceiling wall of glass window, showing off a perfect view of the Gojo estate’s courtyard and garden maze, and the city lights of Shibuya, Tokyo even farther off in the distance. The pool was lined with white marble and lit with soft lighting, and just then I noticed how warm the floor was, “the floor...!” 

“It’s heated.” Satoru explained and entered after me, closing the door behind us and putting the cans down beside one of the chairs. He started to remove his tux jacket and bowtie, “What do you think? Still just a big ugly mansion?” He smirked, carefully removing his white button-down shirt so that he was just in a white tank and his midnight blue slacks. 

I reached back and gave his arm a playful push, “Oh, shut up. It’s gorgeous.” I did a double take at Satoru, only then seeing the full extent of just how toned his arms and shoulders were. I put my clutch down on one of the nearby daybeds and sat on the edge, eying Satoru sheepishly. 

Satoru followed my gaze and walked over to stand right in front of me. He reached down with a smile, fingers ghosting over the length of my cheek and swiping down the slope of my neck, “You gonna join me?” He cocked his head in the direction of the spa. 

“In the pool? But I don’t have a bathing suit...” I suddenly felt a bit nervous, and I hoped that the steam of the room and dim lighting hid my blushed cheeks. 

“I don’t either,” Satoru started, beginning to lift his tank top up and over his head. My eyelashes fluttered in a quick series of surprised blinks, and I propped my arms back behind me and leaned back a bit on the daybed to enjoy the show he was giving me. The taught white fabric of Satoru’s shirt was pulled up to reveal his chiseled abdomen and pecs, veins peeking from around the muscles of his thick biceps and his lower stomach—which had a faint, white happy trail that was cut off at his belt buckle. 

Shit.  

I was suddenly very interested in mixed martial arts and what it could do for a man’s body. He hardly looked real. 

“...Just wear your underwear.” Satoru finished his words, smirking at me as he began to unbuckle his belt. Once it was undone, he slid his pants down to his ankles and stepped out of them, revealing his toned thighs and calves, and black boxer-briefs. He placed his hands on his sides when I simply stared at him blankly, “You don't have to, if you don’t want to—” 

“No, I’ll join you!” I blurted out. For some reason, I remained still on the daybed. 

Satoru extended his hand to me, “Want some help?” 

I felt my heart beat quick and hotly in my chest, neck, and ears; unable to speak, I just nodded. 

Satoru helped me back up to my feet and I turned my back to him, glancing over my shoulder as I slowly slipped my arms out the thin straps of my champagne-colored dress. I inched the silk fabric up on my body towards my head, and Satoru gently pulled the entirety of it off me, revealing the thin, sleeveless, ochre-colored, and low back thong bodysuit I had on underneath that perfectly matched my skin tone. 

“Jesus Christ, Lena...” 

When I turned back around, Satoru was frozen with my dress in his arms, biting his lip and gazing at my body below the waist. “Hey,” I reached up, lightly grasped his chin and manually shifted his gaze upward, “eyes up!” I smirked, regaining a bit more of my composure. 

“Sorry, you’re just... unreal.” Satoru shook his head to himself and folded my dress, resting it on the daybed before making his way towards the steps of the spa pool. 

I followed behind him, “I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“There’s not enough compliments in the world , Lena!” When Satoru reached the end of the pool, instead of taking the stairs he leaned back with his arms crossed as he shouted the last of his words, allowing himself to fall backwards into the pool with a loud splash. 

I rose my arms to shield myself from the splash with an intrigued gasp, giggling when Satoru’s head broke the surface and he shook the water from his hair. I was beginning to learn just how goofy and comically impulsive the man could be. I reached the end of the spa and dipped my toes in, “Ooo, it’s hot!” Hotter than I thought it would be. 

Satoru looked me over again. “It’s not the only thing...” He said suggestively from the center of the pool, muscles flexing as he rose and folded his hands behind his head. He made his way towards the end of the pool steps and offered his hands out straight for me to hold as I stepped in. 

I grabbed his with my own, “There’s a rail, you know.” I said, referring to the golden rail at my side that was quite literally made for holding when entering and exiting the spa. 

“I’ll be your human rail.” 

“Oh my god,” I laughed once to Satoru’s cheesy words and stepped further into the pool, still smiling and holding his hands, “when do the punchlines end with you?” The hot water of the spa was easy to adjust to and warmed me up immediately. 

“The punchlines end with your beauty, Lena—so basically, the limit does not exist!” 

“Alright, alright... enough!” I laughed, smile growing into a big grin. 

Satoru laughed along with me, letting go of one of my hands to lead me towards an edge of the pool that’s wall was lined with jets and had an edge inside the water for us to sit on. We sat down beside each other, and I hummed to the warmth that enveloped my body all the way up to my neck, adjusting my hair bun a little so it wouldn’t get so wet. I settled my back against a particularly strong jet, closing my eyes for a moment, “Oh, that feels good ...” 

Though I kept my eyes closed, I could feel Satoru’s gaze on me, “Glad you’re enjoying it.” He paused before speaking again, “So, other than fixing cars, what else do you like to do?” 

My eyes fluttered open and I thought for a moment, “Hm, well, I like visual art, movies, physics, dancing, and oh, I do also get behind the wheel of the car sometimes.” 

Satoru leaned forward a bit, seemingly intrigued, “Ohh, so you do some racing, too?” 

"Mhm. Though I’m mostly into stunts, I also like rally racing as well—even got a few medals in it.” 

“Whaaaat? You, driving in a speed race? Now that’s something I’d like to see.” He grinned. 

“I could take you on a drive sometime...” I said, entertaining the idea aloud. 

“Sounds like fun to me.” Satoru suddenly remembered something, “Wait, did you say physics?” 

“Yeah, physics and cars go hand in hand.” 

“I didn’t take much physics in school, other than quantum mechanics, but I loved math; still do. Algebraic topology, real and complex analysis...” 

“Satoru, you took quantum mechanics in college?!” Those were classes I had taken at university. I nearly stood up in the pool; I was not expecting someone from the Gojo family to take that advanced of a physics class, not when it wasn’t necessary to being the CEO of Gojo Industries. Though it was a company focused on research and development in the industrial sector, it wasn’t like he had to know all of that. He must’ve really liked math and science. I stared at him in wonder. He was hot AND he liked math?!  

Satoru looked a little surprised by my big reaction, “Yes, that and, uh, statistical mechanics were pretty fascinating.” 

“You like math...?” I looked up at him with big eyes, kind of amazed. He’d already said he did, but for some reason I couldn’t believe it. 

“Uh huh.” Satoru sneered at me teasingly all of a sudden, smirking as he leaned close to me in the spa, “You’re a little nerd , aren’t you?” He placed his arms on either side of me, holding the edge of the pool as he closed most of the space between us. 

“So are you!” I teased back, “Well, I guess you’re a big nerd.” I gazed over Satoru’s cut pecs, abs, and shoulders that peeked out of the water, “A very... very big nerd.” 

He moved his hands so that they were now caressing my face, adjusting my gaze so I was looking up at him again, “You’re so freakin’ cute, Lena.” There were those eyes of his again. There was an undeniable heat in how he looked at me. His thumb brushed over my lips, lightly rubbing my lower lip around, “Can I kiss you?” 

“You didn’t ask last time.” I said a bit breathlessly, I couldn’t help it when Satoru was this close. 

“I’m trying to be good....” He explained smoothly, voice low and tempting. He bent forward, lips barely ghosting over mine. I pressed forward a little to meet his lips, but he pulled away slightly just as I did. He smirked and huffed out a single chuckle at my eagerness. 

You bastard. He knew just how much I wanted it, but wasn’t going to give me anything until I spoke up, “Please kiss me.” I spoke so soft and lightly that the words were barely audible over the jets in the spa. 

Thankfully, they were loud enough for Satoru to hear. 

He joined our lips the very next second. Unlike our first kiss that had been fast-paced and needy, this one was slow, lewd, and explorative. Instead of leading the kiss like he had last time, Satoru met my pace and matched the movements of my lips and tongue with his own, occasionally exploring new sensations like his tongue tracing my bottom lip or gently pulling my lip with his teeth. Our mouths moved patiently, as if we had all the time in the world to learn each other, and that added to the hotness of it. I felt warm, not only from the hot water of the spa pool and Satoru’s body so close to mine, but also from the growing heat between my legs. 

Satoru shifted me into his lap, his hands sliding down from my face to grip my hips and pull me into him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck in response, the water from the pool loudly splashing from the disturbance of our movements. A small moan fled my lips when Satoru held me up by gripping my ass, his hands squeezing my bare cheeks that were hardly covered by the thong of my bodysuit underwear. Satoru hummed lowly in response, and I felt something jump and poke hard just under my inner thigh. Maybe it was a jet or part of the spa or something?  

I attempted to shift my hips so that it didn’t prod at my butt so strongly, but it was only upon Satoru breaking our lips to groan in response to my movements that I realized what it was. Oh. There was an undeniable look of lust in Satoru’s expression when I met eyes with him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what...!” I was so flustered. It had felt so solid, I didn’t think it was that.  

Satoru pressed our foreheads together, “What else would it be, Lena?” It was obvious he was in a bit of a daze. 

“Um, I-I'm thirsty...!” I blundered, impulsively. 

Satoru pulled back slightly, staring at me for a moment before abruptly chuckling. He nodded, “I’ll get our waters.” He eased me back down into the seated area of the spa with a small peck to my shoulder, then turned away from me and looked down to seemingly adjust his boxers. Whatever he’d attempted to do didn’t work much—when he exited the pool, the fabric of his now wet, black boxer-briefs only clung even tighter to his body, accentuating the impressive length and thickness of his dick just beneath them. Holy shit, he was huge. Even in my shyness, I couldn’t help but stare. 

When Satoru returned to the pool with our cans of cucumber sparkling water, he noticed my gaze, “Hey, eyes up goes for you, too.” He lifted a finger from one of the cans to point in my direction and I looked away, blushing. He cracked a can open with his index and offered it to me. 

“Thanks...” I said bashfully, still not meeting his eyes. I couldn’t help it; I wasn’t used to being so close to him, let alone anyone in this way—it had been a long time, to say the least. I took a long sip from the can after he handed it to me, easing my nerves a bit. It did feel amazing in the spa pool, the temperature was perfect, “Do you have any hobbies outside of MMA?” 

“Hm, my work schedule doesn’t really allow for much, but I do like to game a little when I have time.” 

“Ooo what kind of games? I don’t get to play much, either, but I do have a Nintendo Switch; and I like driving sims.” 

“You play Switch?” Satoru leaned closer to me with a challenging smirk, “There’s one hooked up to the TV in the lounge room with Mario Kart...” 

~ 

Hours later, Satoru and I were in the midst of a heated Mario Kart battle, donning fluffy white robes as we tapped furiously at our controllers on the lounge room floor. There were a few more cans of sparkling water around us, now, and our makeshift snack—a half-eaten bag of potato chips, creme fraiche, and caviar stolen from the kitchen beside us. While Yuko and the other gala-goers had filtered out to afterparties hours earlier, we found ourselves back here instead. 

“Yes—” Satoru exclaimed as his character Yoshi threw a banana at me right before my character, Toad, was about to cross the finish line. 

“NOOOOO!!” The slowdown from the banana was just long enough to allow Yoshi to cross the finish line first, leaving me and my character in second place. I dropped the controllers dramatically, holding my head in shock and disappointment. I faced Satoru, “Why would you do that??!” 

“I can’t just let you win, now, can I? Haha... That makes, what? 24 wins for me and how many wins for you...?” He popped a creme fraiche and caviar topped chip into his mouth, smirking. The answer was zero. In all six of the Mario Kart tournaments I’d played with Satoru in the past few hours, I hadn’t won a single race. 

I got close to Satoru, narrowing my eyes at him and pouting simultaneously, “I don’t want a cheap ass win, but you’re still mean...!” I harshly poked the opening of Satoru’s robe that revealed the toned muscles and smooth skin of his chest. 

He took advantage of me leaning close to him and quickly lifted and moved my hips so that I was straddling him, “I’m so mean, huh?” He slowly slid his hands up my sides, the robe I wore being the only fabric between his hands and my naked skin. Satoru’s voice had lowered, and he looked at me with that same heated gaze he’d been throwing my way all night. 

It wasn’t going to work on me, I was still mad, “I’d beat you on a real track, you know!” I continued to poke his chest. 

“Of course you’d beat me on a real track. You’re a professional.” 

“Whatever.” I grumbled. I sat back on his lap and crossed my arms, looking away. 

“Can I take you on a date, Lena?” 

I turned back towards Satoru. The question was so out of nowhere, it honestly caught me off guard and left me flustered, “What...?” I felt my face heat up. 

“I wanna take you out. When are you free?” His straightforwardness was so jolting at times. 

“Um, the Okamoto OXB model testing is tomorrow, but I planned to take Tuesday and Wednesday off. Then there’s next weekend—” 

“Tuesday it is.” 

“You don’t have work?” I quirked my brow. 

“Not anymore, I don’t. I need to take some time off anyways.” He said before I could protest to him skipping work. I t was the same thing that Yuko had told me earlier. Even with our hectic work lives, maybe it was okay to take a day off every once in a while. His hands settled at the small of my back, beginning to knead in circles. 

“W-What time on Tuesday?” All of his touch was starting to drive me crazy. 

“How about you block off the whole day for me?” 

“The whole day??” My eyes widened a bit. 

“Yeah, I wanna spend it with you. Is that okay?” 

“Yes...” I said in a sheepish tone. 

“Good, then.” Satoru spoke with a bit of finality and a confident smile. He checked his watch, “It’s getting a little late. Did you want to spend the night?” 

I shook my head, blushing at the thought, “No, that’s okay. I should get home.” I stretched with a silent yawn and reached over to tap my phone on the floor. 2:47 AM. Shit, it was late. The gala reception had ended long ago at midnight, but the event staff were most likely still cleaning up the ballroom and kitchen. 

“Are you sure? There’s plenty of guest rooms...” Satoru offered. 

I rubbed the back of my neck, “No, it’s fine. I’ve got an early start tomorrow. Or today, I should say. And I’d probably only get lost in this place.” I giggled. 

“You need a ride?” 

“No, no, I’m good to drive. But thanks, Satoru.” I said sweetly. 

~ 

Not much later, I was back in my dress and outside of the Gojo estate, an oversized, nude-toned cashmere sweater that Satoru had given me hanging loosely on my shoulders. The front circle of the mansion was now completely clear of any cars, but I heard the familiar sound of my 288 GTO’s engine revving in the distance. 

Satoru stood beside me, now in a matching grey sweatsuit and designer slides. He looked up at the night sky, “I hope you’re not too mad at me for stealing you away from the party, but I had a lot of fun tonight.” His eyes moved back down to me at the end of his words. 

“I had fun, too. And I’m not mad,” I shook my head once, “not much of a party person anyways.” 

“That’s true, I for sure would’ve met you by now if you were. You should come out more.” 

“My couch is too comfy... But I’ll think about it.” I said playfully, my smile just barely turning into a smirk. 

My car pulled from around the corner of the estate and turned into the circle. 

Satoru turned toward me, “Give me your phone, please?” 

This man definitely got whatever he wanted in life, but at least he’d said please. I retrieved my phone from my clutch, unlocked it, and handed it to Satoru. He tapped one of the applications and began to type something in, “I’m adding my number, so please text me when you get home.” He finished creating his contact and started to hand my phone back to me. 

“I’ll try, but I might forget.” I shrugged, really only teasing. I just wanted to push his buttons a bit. 

Satoru paused in handing me my phone and rose a brow, seemingly impressed by my brat-like response. He instead takes it back, beginning to type something else. Then his phone chimed from his pocket, “There. Now I have your number, too. So, I’m blowing up your line if you don’t text me later.” He warned, and I chuckled. 

Just then a member of the event staff in an all-black suit stopped my car in front of us and opened the door to the driver's side, stepping out and patiently holding it for me to enter. 

“I’ve got it from here, thank you.” Satoru called out to the man, waving him off. 

The man nodded once and walked back into the building. 

Satoru turned back to me and finally returned my phone. After I secured it in my clutch, he took my free hand as he walked me back to my car, helping me into the low vehicle and closing the door behind me. He bent over close to the window once I was inside and I rolled down my window for him. 

“Drive safe, beautiful.” He rested his arm on top of the car, speaking the words low and smoothly. 

“I always do.” I chimed back, voice a bit melodic as I fastened my seatbelt. When I turned back around to face Satoru, I’m met with his expecting, blue eyes. 

“You gonna give me a goodnight kiss?” 

I wanted to curse him for being so handsome, but instead held up one finger, “Just one, okay?” I emphasized the number. Satoru and his lips would have me here all night, if I let them. 

Satoru leaned his head into the car, and I closed my eyes as he softly captured my lips with his own in a slow, sensual peck. Our lips remained pressed together for a while, reluctantly moving to pull just a millimeter away from each other after a moment. Satoru stayed still, not indicating that he was going to back out of my car anytime soon. I lied. The magnetism of his lips drew me in for another kiss, and another... each growing deeper and deeper. After a while, I somehow found the restraint to turn my head away with a sharp inhale through my nose. 

“I thought you said just one kiss?” 

“Shut up.” I turned the key in the ignition and the car started back up with a loud roar. I placed my right hand on the steering wheel. 

Satoru chuckled, “So I’ll see you Tuesday, then?” 

I nodded shyly, eventually returning my eyes to Satoru. 

“I’ll call. And don’t forget to text when you get home.” 

“Okay.” 

“Bye, Lena.” 

“Bye, Satoru.” I rolled up my car door window and pulled out of the circle, hitting the gas pedal with a bit of force once I reached the straight of the estate’s long, practically 1K meter driveway. I released the loud and long jumble of grunts, noises, and unintelligible sounds I’d been holding in for a majority of the night. I was going on a date with Tokyo’s golden boy...? What the fuck was happening?!  

[orivaa-kun]

[orivaa-kun]

[orivaa-kun]

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 8: Lovers & Fighters

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 chapter word count: 7.4k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

When Riku enters the massive, white painted, warehouse style gym, her eyes widen and her hand drops out of Gojo’s at the sight of two shirtless guys intensely sparring in a ring in the center of the floor. They look younger, definitely not past their mid 20s, and the sight of them fighting so hard honestly makes her a little nervous. The one dominating the fight has blondish-pink hair, and he throws a quick sequence of jabs, punches, and kicks at the other guy with black, long yet spiky hair who stands at a similar height as him—both just a bit taller than Riku. She squints her eyes at the black-haired one. Doesn’t he kind of look like—

“SENSEI…!” Riku’s thoughts are cut off when the one with pink-blonde hair—who’d seemed to be winning—almost immediately spots Gojo entering the gym and shouts, bright smile beaming from ear to ear. The black-haired guy takes the other’s distraction as an opportunity to kick him square in the jaw, sending blondie to the ground to writhe in pain.

Gojo guffaws to the sight of this but collects himself before shouting his response, “Hey, Yuji! Hey, Megumi! Hey, everyone!”

Everyone training and exercising in the main open space of the gym, including those on its outskirts lifting weights or practicing by hitting punching bags pause what they’re doing to shout in unison, “Good afternoon, Gojo-sensei!!” Riku blinks in surprise to this. She didn’t know Gojo was a teacher…

The black-haired one in the ring turns and removes his gloves after he’s kicked his opponent to the ground, “Gojo-sensei?”

“Satoru! Ooo, who’s the gal?” A tall woman with blonde hair and sharp-cut, middle parted bangs asks, leaning on the rope of the sparring ring. Wearing an all-black tracksuit, she stands next to a much larger and bulkier man with a small man-bun and a thick scar down the left side of his face. He wears the same style black tracksuit pants as the woman but has on a white tank top instead of a jacket.

“Sensei brought a girl?!” As if he hadn’t just been hit in the head, the pink haired one springs up from the floor of the ring to look around his sparring partner, expression turning to one of surprise at the sight of Riku.

Gojo wraps his arm around Riku’s shoulders, keeping his voice loud, “Everyone, this is Riku—Jin Osaki’s niece!”

Riku waves, a friendly yet nervous smile on her face.

The tall woman in the tracksuit approaches them first, hands confidently sitting on her hips, “Oh she’s hot.” She stops right in front of Riku with a smirk and analyzing eyes, “What’s your type, Riku?”

Riku’s jaw falls agape, not having expected the woman to ask her that of all things, “What? My type?”

Gojo chuckles, “Meet Yuki, Ri. And don’t worry, she asks everyone this.

Yuki nods, hands still on her hips, “So, what is it?”

Riku is still dazed by the woman’s question but reluctantly answers, tapping her index on her bottom lip in thought, “Uhm… I guess, tall and muscular guys who are strong, smart, and will give me whatever I ask for?”

Yuki crosses her arms over her chest and nods repeatedly, closing her eyes to smirk knowingly. She opens her eyes again after a second, “Bold choice. I get that…” She laughs to herself, “You’re the type to get yourself and others in a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”

Riku’s eyes widen, “What?! Wait… how’d you know that…?” She says the last of her words a bit quieter, her shock turning to fear.

Gojo clears his throat, speaking lower so only Yuki and Riku can hear him, “She forgot to add she likes guys who are mean to her.” He grins devilishly.

Riku’s cheeks burn bright red, and she shoves Gojo away as hard as she can, “No, I don’t! Shut it, you cat-haired fuck!!”

Gojo hardly moves from Riku’s shove and simply laughs.

“Ohoho?’ Yuki quirks a brow, gently chuckling and narrowing her eyes on Riku for a moment, “…I can see it.” She states with a bit of finality.

“Please don’t listen to him!” Riku pleads to Yuki as the muscular man with the scar, Yuji, and Megumi all approach them.

“Riku, this is Todo, Yuji, and Megumi.” Gojo introduces, each of the guys waving after their names are called, except for Megumi who just nods his head once.

Now that he’s closer, Riku stares at Megumi more closely, and makes a perplexed face in realization, “You know, you look a lot like T—”

“Toji’s my father.” Megumi says shortly and monotone, completely unphased by Riku’s sudden connection.

Riku’s perplexed expression turns to shock; the color drains from her face, “Wait, what?!”

“But I’m not connected to that deadbeat piece of shit.” Megumi clarifies, “Not even in the Zenin clan.”

Riku presses her hand to her chest and releases a deep breath in relief, “Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack…”

“Oh, sorry.” Megumi’s expression remains flat and emotionless, but he rubs the back of his head, “Didn’t know you knew the asshole.”

“Unfortunately, I do. Wait—how old are you?!” Riku asks. Toji didn’t look that old, and Megumi doesn’t look like a kid…

“22. My father was 16 when him and my mother had me.”

“Oh. Well, sorry you have an awful and absolute menace for a dad.” Riku says.

Megumi shrugs nonchalantly.

“Wait, is she the one who kicked Toji in the balls?!” Yuji pokes his index in Riku’s direction.

“That’s right.” Gojo smirks smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Todo reaches forward to clasp Riku’s hand in his two, shaking it once before holding it for a few seconds, “The type of girl to kick Toji in the balls is my type of girl. I had a feeling you were different.”

Riku swears she sees tears of joy in Todo’s eyes and she hums in confusion, brows lifting at the other’s sudden movements.

“Don’t mind him, he’s really strange, but he’s a good fighter.” Yuji notes.

Riku laughs awkwardly, pulling her hand back from Todo’s grasp.

“Well, now that everyone’s well-acquainted…” Gojo turns to Yuki, “You have some forms for me to sign?”

“Yeah, they’re in your office.” Yuki pokes her thumb back in the space behind her, towards a hallway with a few doors along it.

“Good, thanks.” Gojo rests his hand on top of Riku’s head, “While I do that, Yuji, why don’t you give Riku a tour of the gym?”

“Sure thing, sensei!” Yuji smiles so bright and honestly that it’s infectious, and Riku finds herself smiling, too.

“Megumi, you do some drills with Yuki and Todo. Your roundhouse is too slow for your competitor next week, and the only reason you won just now was because Yuji was distracted.”

Megumi’s eye twitches with a bit of anger to Gojo’s painfully straightforward feedback, “Got it.” He grunts between clenched teeth.

“Be back in a sec, Ri, okay?” Gojo ruffles Riku’s hair before turning and letting go of her head, already heading off towards the hallway. Todo and Megumi begin to retreat back to the fighting ring in the center of the room.

“Nice to meet you, Riku!” Yuki says with a sweet smile before doing the same.

“Well, welcome to the Six Eyes Gym!” Yuji stretches his arms out wide, gesturing to the expansive workout and training space around them, “This is the main floor…”

Gojo’s phone vibrates in his pocket as he approaches his office and he retrieves it from his side, quickly sliding his finger over the screen to answer the call when he sees ‘SUGURU’ flash across it.

“Yo.” Gojo says short and quick into the phone, beginning to stride down the hallway that leads to his office.

“Hey Satoru—” Geto’s voice is cut off by the sound of a blood-curdling scream from a man in the background, “sorry ‘bout the volume, but just found the culprit who delivered Toji’s letter and wiped the security cameras… Let me get somewhere quieter.”

“Ah. Get anything out of him yet?” Gojo asks casually, entering his office and closing the door behind him. He flicks on the lights and spots the stack of papers on his desk.

“Nah, not anything substantial. Seems like he might just be an errand boy and doesn’t know much. Though I do have two of my clan muscle interrogating him for Toji’s location.” As Geto speaks, the thuds and screams in the background begin to grow quieter and fainter, and Gojo assumes his friend is now at a distance or in another room completely.

“With how many yakuza we got tracking him in Tokyo, doubt he’s even in the area. That or the asshole is really fucking good at hiding.” Gojo plops down into his office chair, searching through one of his desk drawers for a pen before beginning to mindlessly scan his eyes over the first page of the small pile of forms in front of him.

“Yeah, we’ll see what happens with our current lead, but I honestly doubt Toji elected to tell this messenger anything. Also doubt he cares if the dude lives or dies.”

“Knowing him, he definitely doesn’t.” Gojo says plainly, and there’s a short pause in their conversation.

“How’s Riku been?” Geto asks, voice lower and playful.

“Oh, so that’s why you called. You wanna know how our date’s been going?” Gojo grins as he flips a page over and clicks the end of his pen a few times. He signs his family name at the bottom, “What? Afraid you’re gonna lose our game?”

“Never that.” Geto laughs on the other end of the phone, “So you gonna tell me or not?”

“Since you’re so nosy… Riku’s doing great. Took her the scenic route to the beach, stopped at a clifftop coffee shop, let her taste the new club menu and sake at Iwai’s, we walked on the beach, and I even found time to fuck her in between. Now Yuji’s giving her a tour of the gym while I do some fight club maintenance work in my office.” Gojo smirks as he flips pages to the next set of forms.

“You fucked her, without me? That’s not fair.” Geto says in a sultry voice, his smirk evident through his tone.

“No rules, remember?” Gojo chuckles, sitting up in his office chair and clicking the back of his pen a few more times, “She begged for it, too.”

“Yeah? Where’d you fuck her?”

“In the back of Iwai’s,” Gojo snickers once, “nearly broke the bathroom door down, I nailed her so hard into it.”

“Was she loud?” Geto asks, voice heavy with lust.

Gojo notices, “Of course she was loud. I found a way to keep her quiet, though. Well, as quiet as she could be getting the sense fucked outta her… You know, you’ve got quite the curiosity today, Suguru.” Gojo cocks his head to the side and tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, holding the form still with one hand while he signs the paper with his other, “Feeling lonely?” Gojo murmurs, purposely making his tone breathy and wanton.

“It’s called FOMO.” Geto explains in a low, heated voice, before quickly changing the subject, “But tell me how her pussy felt.”

At the sound of Geto’s words, Gojo’s eyes blink wide in realization and he grins, “Wait, are you jerking off right now, Suguru?” Gojo leans forward in his chair, intrigued.

“…Maybe.” Geto heavily exhales the word, only confirming it for Gojo.

Gojo chuckles once, smirk remaining on his lips, “You want me to tell you about how good Riku’s pussy felt? How warm and wet she was, and how she kept squeezing me like crazy?” Gojo drops his pen on his desk and sits back in his chair, returning his left hand to his phone so he can properly hold it against his ear to hear Geto clearly. He turns up the volume with a few taps of his thumb.

“Fuck, yes.”

Gojo bites the inside of his lip after hearing Geto’s depraved-sounding tone and uses his free hand to slide a drawer open in his desk, fishing around in it before retrieving and clicking a remote that slowly shuts the electric blinds on his office room’s windows, “And you call me the horny one?” After returning the remote to its drawer and closing it, Gojo rises from his chair to lock his office door. His voice suddenly turning alluring, “Why don’t you squeeze yourself from base to tip nice and slow, Suguru? Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Shit, it’s so tight…” Geto huffs out, clearly consumed with being so turned on.

Gojo returns to his chair, “That’s how tight Riku was. The harder you fuck her the tighter she gets—it’s insane, really.” He coos.

“I wanna fuck her face again.” Geto grunts.

Gojo hums, appreciating the sound of Geto’s voice, “Mm… She’s got a good mouth, that one. Nice and wet with a tight throat, and she knows how to work her tongue.” Gojo smooths his hand down the bulk of his thigh when he feels his own cock twitch up against the confines of his shorts, “You think she gives better head than me, Suguru?”

“Fuck, Satoru…” Geto moans hungrily, just above a whisper, “She’s good, but you know me. You know what I like.” He pauses to pant a heavy exhale, “Want you to suck me.”

Gojo’s lips silently form a small ‘o’ in response to Geto’s words and he unbuttons his shorts, reaching beneath them to retrieve his hardened dick. He begins to pump it in his fist, “Yeah? You want me to suck you, or do you need me to?”

Geto sighs lustfully, “Need you to.” He pauses before he continues, voice low and gravelly, “You know how to make me cum quick.”

“That’s right. Are you still stroking yourself nice and slow for me?” Gojo turns up the honey in his voice.

“Uh-huh.”

“Stroke a little faster.”

Gojo assumes he listens because Geto curses before he speaks again, “I’m so fucking hard, Satoru.”

“I know, Suguru. You made me hard, too…” Gojo trails off, keeping up his vocal composure, though his own horniness and stroking of his cock is beginning to eat away at his ability to, “You want me to get your dick nice and wet, and take it all in my mouth? Want me to suck the head and lick at that spot right beneath it, just how you like?”

“Oh, fuck.” Geto tries to restrain a moan but fails.

Gojo grins wickedly, pleased that he’s the only one who gets to hear Geto’s depraved and desperate voice like this, “Why don’t you stop stroking and squeeze that spot for me?” Gojo demands, saying the question more like a statement.

Geto breathes raggedly on the other end of the phone line. He speaks up after a long pause, “Can I start stroking again?”

“You never really answered my question earlier, Suguru.” Gojo says plainly, blatantly ignoring Geto’s request as he strokes himself freely.

“Shit. What question?” Geto groans.

“You think Riku gives you head better than me?” Gojo asks again, nearly singing the question as he continues to fist his dick.

“No, Satoru.”

“And you know why that is?”

“Why?”

“It’s ‘cos your cock is mine. Now, say it.” Gojo commands coldly, any sweetness now gone from his voice.

“My cock is yours…” Geto pants.

“Again.”

“My cock is yours, Satoru.”

“Start stroking again. Fast.”

Geto sucks in a breath, sharply, “Gonna cum.”

“You wanna cum in my mouth, Suguru?” The honey returns to Gojo’s tone.

“Yes—”

“Yeah, I thought you would.” Gojo quickly interjects, pumping himself faster, “But I’m gonna cum, too. Where do you want it?”

“…My hair.”

“You like that, huh?” Gojo chuckles, “That’s pretty nasty, Suguru. What, you need a protein treatment?” Gojo smirks, murmuring the question mockingly.

“Geez, can you shut up, Satoru? ‘M gonna… fuck!” Geto moans with finality. After a long pause, he clicks his tongue against his teeth and sighs, “Did not want to cum to that.”

Gojo closes his eyes and imagines himself gripping a handful of Geto’s long, black strands of hair. In his mind, he grips them at the root with one hand while his other continues to stroke himself off. Geto’s hair is soft and Gojo wants to rub his dick in it, maybe even wrap it around his cock. He bites his bottom lip at the idea and grunts, hips jerking forward in his chair and cum messily spilling into his own hand, “Your hair feels so good, Suguru.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry,” Gojo laughs, leaning over to grab a few tissues from the small box on the other side of his desk, “you want me to make it up to you tonight?”

“Yeah, you owe me.”

“Come to the fight club early, then. I’m sure I got time for you in my office there…” Gojo wipes his hands on the tissues, careful not to spill any cum on his shorts before he throws them into the trash can underneath his desk.

“What about Riku?”

“Keep her at home. Just put her to sleep or something.”

Geto huffs out a single laugh, “You want me to put her to sleep?”

“Yeah, the best way you know how.” Gojo says suggestively, “I mean you’ve still got extra muscle protecting your territory, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, then everything’s good and covered.” Gojo concludes with a small smirk.

“Alright. I gotta clean up the mess I made in the meantime.” Geto chuckles, “I’ll see you tonight, Satoru.”

“Later, Suguru.”

*

Later in the afternoon, after Gojo had driven Riku back from the gym and dropped her off at Geto’s estate, Riku found herself in the shower with Geto, again—the long-haired man having talked her into it for the second day in a row.

Riku steps into the shower and closes the door behind her, to which Geto curiously examines her reddened backside, “Shit, Satoru did this to you?” Geto smooths his hand over the curve of Riku’s ass, and she flinches from the soreness.

Geto clicks his tongue and gently tugs Riku close to him by her arm so that they’re both under the warm spray of the rain-style shower head, “You gotta tell him when he’s being too harsh with you, Ri.”

Ri looks to then turns away from Geto for a moment, shyly biting her lip out of embarrassment from his discovery of the marks Gojo had left on her. Though, Geto seemed more than comfortable talking about Gojo fucking her… This was a dynamic that would take Riku a while to get used to.

Geto smirks just slightly to Riku’s expression, sliding his hands up her wet skin to wrap his arms around her waist from behind her. He bends his head down to speak lowly into her ear, “Even if you like it, your body can only handle so much. You wanna soak in the bath after we shower?”

Riku turns her head back to face Geto as much as she can in their current position and nods a few times, before allowing her eyes to flutter shut to enjoy the heat of the shower water and Geto’s embrace.

Geto releases his light hold on Riku and she opens her eyes once more, turning to face him and letting the stream of water wet her hair. She gently runs her hands through her long curls and Geto’s smirk grows when he realizes something, “You’re way more agreeable than usual, aren’t you?” He runs the lengths of fingers underneath Riku’s chin, “Part of me’s kinda thankful for Satoru fucking you into submission…”

Riku feels her face redden even further, clearly embarrassed, “Can you stop saying shit like that?!”

Geto releases an honest laugh, lips curving into a toothy grin, “There’s my brat,” He swiftly bends and pecks her lips, “was starting to think something was wrong with ya, being so quiet.” Geto begins to reach up and rinse his hair in the shower’s spray, the colorful dragon tattoos on his arms and chest dancing quietly at the command of his rippling muscles beneath.

Riku rolls her eyes but then studies Geto movements as he reaches over to grab a few pumps of shampoo from the bottle from the ledge of the shower, appreciating the art on his skin. After working the liquid into her curls, Riku removes a hand from her damp hair to gently run her fingers down Geto’s chest, “I like these.” She says, simply.

“Thanks, beautiful. I like your chest, too.” Geto winks, shamelessly eyeing Riku’s body for a moment; after squeezing a few pumps of shampoo into his palm, he returns the bottle to the shower’s ledge.

Riku sighs, turning to get herself some more shampoo, “You know, you and Satoru are a lot alike, actually.”

Geto laughs, starting to lather the liquid into his scalp, “Ouch. That felt like an insult.”

“Not my fault you both are always spewing horny shit.” Riku shrugs, beginning to wash her hair as well, “I was trying to complement your tattoos,” she describes, turning back towards Geto, “how long did it take to get them done?”

Geto looks up, thinking to himself before returning his gaze to Riku, “Well, they’re various pieces I got over the past few years that each took months to heal, but just the hours of tattooing, altogether? Maybe like… 94-ish hours?”

Riku’s eyes widen with surprise, but also can understand as there’s hardly a millimeter of skin on Geto’s torso and arms that isn’t covered in ink, “Oh my god, that’s nearly four days… Did it hurt a lot?”

Geto’s smirk softens into a light smile, “Of course… But it’s something the male leaders in my clan have done for generations.”

“Really?”

“Really, Ri.” Geto chuckles under his breath, “C’mere.” He removes his hands from his hair to turn Riku around and back her into his chest, fingers already beginning to trail to her scalp and gently massage the shampoo suds at her curly roots just the way she likes, “Know you want me to do this, anyway.”

Riku’s hands fall to her sides in response to Geto’s sweet movements and she closes her eyes, “Mm… What’s your family like?”

Geto continues to massage his fingers in in Riku’s hair in small circles, “Normal. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. What was it like growing up?”

“You mean like my childhood? It was fine. My parents are good people, and they spoiled me a lot as a kid, until I started doing work for the family.” Geto removes his hands from Riku’s hair after a while and she turns to rinse it off; Geto follows suit.

Riku opens her eyes again after washing off her hair, glancing up at Geto, “What changed when you started yakuza clan work?”

“Well, I quickly learned how nasty this world of ours can be, that’s for sure. And the drug game already isn’t pretty on its own.” Geto admits, eyes still closed as he rinses the last of the suds from his hair.

“How old were you?” Riku can’t help her curiosity.

Geto’s face temporarily scrunches up in thought, “Thirteen, I think.”

“Fuck, that’s horrible…! You were just a kid!” Riku’s brows knit together, her eyes filled with concern.

“We’re yakuza, Ri. What did you think? That they would wait ‘til I’m 18 to teach me shit?” Geto pauses, eyes softening as he gazes down at Riku with a mixture of interest and some other emotion she can’t place, “Damn, you were sheltered a lot, huh? Must’ve been nice and comfortable growing up in a low rank family.”

Riku’s stomach turns a bit to Geto’s words, and her expression reflects it as she grabs for the conditioner, “Not quite. Though I don’t remember much, I did lose my parents due to yakuza-related violence when I was seven. Being born into a low rank family isn’t as comfy as so many high rank dicks from our syndicate make it out to be.”

Geto’s brows lift as he recalls this bit of information she’d told him and Gojo just a few nights ago, “Shit, that’s right—I’m sorry, Ri.”

Riku sighs and shakes her head, continuing to speak as she squeezes a few pumps of the conditioner in her palm before passing the bottle to Geto and working the cream into the length of her hair, “But just ‘cos I’m yakuza, doesn’t mean I agree with how our families do things. I know we deal in shady work, so danger comes with the job description, but there’s gotta be a better way… At the very least, when it comes to unnecessary violence.”

Geto pumps out a bit of conditioner for himself and places it back on the shower ledge before going to work on his hair, “You’re not wrong. 98% of the bullshit problems our syndicate deals with are over greedy pieces of shit who want one of three things: money, power, or a woman. Maybe it wouldn’t happen as often if we didn’t raise assholes who were baptized by fire.”

“Exactly!” Riku emphasizes, relieved that Geto had gotten her point. She lets the conditioner sit in her hair while she begins to wash her body, retrieving one of the cutely folded black washcloths from the ledge of the shower before dampening it beneath the shower’s hot stream.

Geto washes the conditioner from his hair, “Looks like you just got caught up in the drama, this time around.”

“Yeah…” Riku trails off, expression falling from her face as she looked down at the drain in the shower. She hadn’t really thought about the situation with Toji since this morning, even after meeting his son at the gym. Megumi was so different, after all.

“You doing okay?”

Riku sort of hates how honest Geto sounds, “As okay as I can be. Haven’t really thought about it much, honestly.” She reaches over to get some shower gel from one of the fancy, glass bottles, then lathers it up on her cloth before beginning to rub it and the soap over her arms. It smells heavenly—lightly scented with earthy notes.

“That’s probably for the best. Don’t let that bastard fuck with your head.” Geto grabs the other neatly folded wash towel from the ledge and wets it before doing the same, “And hopefully Satoru and I are big enough distractions.” He smirks just barely.

“Well, you all are doing an outstanding job at that.” Riku notes with a quick laugh under her breath, beginning to lather the soap over her chest and stomach, and bending at the waist to do the same to her legs.

Geto’s eyes study Riku shamelessly, nearly pausing in washing himself at the sight before him. He bites the inside of his lip and feels his cock twitch, “You need me to wash your back, babe?”

Riku continues to scrub at her legs, completely oblivious to Geto’s gaze as she had her back towards him, “Oh, that would be great.” She stands back upright and moves her conditioned curls over her shoulder so that her bare back faces him directly. Riku hardly turns her head as she offers her washcloth to Geto, “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Geto hums bright and affirmatively, but the dark and heated expression on his face that Riku can’t currently see completely contradicts it. He retrieves the wash towel from her, rubbing it over the smooth, café au lait skin of her back. He rubs it and the soap back and forth over her shoulders then down the length of it, feeling a familiar heaviness pool in his abdomen as his dick continued to harden. Geto pauses to rest his own washcloth over his shoulder, then continues to lather his way down to the small of Riku’s back and her reddened rear. He wipes the supple skin there sinfully slow, then purposely makes his dick jump so that it pokes the side of Riku’s ass.

Riku gasps, quickly snapping her head back towards Geto to find the cause of the poke—his cock fully erect and prodding firmly against her ass cheek, “Hey…! Stop being a horny bastard!” She teases playfully, only pretending to be annoyed. Riku gives Geto’s tattooed chest a good jab with her index before turning back around so he could finish washing off her back.

“Sorry, beautiful. Just seeing you turns me on.” Geto says lowly, pressing his hips forward ever so slightly. He twists and wrings out the soap from Riku’s washcloth underneath the stream of water, saturating the small towel with water again before reaching around the front of her hips and between her legs with it. Geto begins to gently rub the soft, warm cloth in deliciously light circles around her clit; he bends his head to speak into her ear, “Open your legs for me a little more.”

Riku exhales a moan and immediately follows his direction, breathing growing heavier to the feel of Geto’s other hand suddenly joining her bare backside and fondling the sore round of it, his dick still pressing firmly against the side of it. He moves his hand from her ass after a while, slipping it under her cheeks before pressing and slipping a single finger inside of her while the other hand with her washcloth continues to rub on her clit. Riku weakly groans this time, voice telling to her soreness from being fucked so hard earlier.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight…” Geto trails off, lips still at Riku’s ear and mind partly consumed with lust. He pushes and pulls his middle finger in and out of Riku’s pussy, “Is it sore, baby?” He coos.

“Yes…” Riku whimpers to the dull soreness that’s reawakened between her legs with Geto’s finger.

“Shit,” Geto just barely rolls his hips forward once, twice, three times, causing his cock to rub against Riku’s perky ass, “need you, Ri. But this hole is too delicious of a treat to devour all day every day.” He glances down, removing his finger from Riku’s pussy then using the hand to spread her cheeks apart and press the head of his dick to the rim of her asshole, “you like it back here…?” He’s unable to hold back the growing grin on his lips.

Riku gasps again, suddenly torn out of her budding arousal. She turns and swats Geto’s hand with the washcloth out from between her legs, “With your monster-thick dick, Suguru?! Absolutely fucking not. And we’re in the shower with no lube?? Are you crazy or something??!” Riku looks honestly shocked.

Geto lets loose a cackle at Riku’s reaction, even throwing his head back a bit as his voice echoes and bounces off the shower’s walls, “Come on, Ri, I was joking! But I’m sure you could take it with some training!” He guffaws the words out, smirking ear to ear as he placed Riku’s damp wash towel on the ledge.

Riku glances down to Geto’s prominent erection as she faces him, seriously considering its large size and girth. She shakes her head, “Yeah, even with plugs, and toys, and all the lube in the world, there’s no way my ass is ever closing again after taking that.”

Geto’s laugh diminishes into a chuckle and he cups Riku’s face in his hands, “Relax, Ri, I wouldn’t hurt you unless you wanted me to.” He softly presses his lips to her cheek and kisses it brief yet sweetly, “And I’m not a brute like Satoru.”

After they’ve showered and when they’re soaking in the outdoor, wooden, onsen-style bath, Geto wraps his arms around Riku and pulls her back into his chest. His hands ghost over her breasts and slip down her sides to rest on her hips, which he backs into the space between his manspread legs, “Lay back on my chest, Ri. You want me to finish what I started in the shower, don’t you?” He murmurs into her ear, teeth nibbling the rim of it as the water in the bath gently laps around them.

Riku reclines back and spreads her legs beneath the water so that the outsides of her thighs touch the inside of Geto’s, and he slowly glides both of his hands between Riku’s legs, fingers lightly trailing over her groin. His right hand finds Riku’s clit, and he gently rubs the pads of his fingers in small, practiced circles over the hardened nub of flesh.

“Oh—” Riku moans out, biting her lip to cut herself off. Her breathing grows heavier, and her chest rises and falls on top of Geto’s.

Geto’s lips remain at Riku’s ear, and he takes a slow breath before blowing it warmly, “Don’t hold back, Ri; talk to me. I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours.” He continues to lightly rub her clit, his tongue finding and darting over the heated slope of skin just beneath her ear. Geto kisses down to the crook of Riku’s neck, left hand slowly slipping up and out of the water to palm and squeeze her breast.

“Hah, Suguru…” Riku pants out, eyes fluttering shut to concentrate on Geto’s touch. His low voice ringing in her ears, soft lips on her neck, warm chest pressed flush against her back, long fingers toying with her nipple, thick hand between her legs… Riku felt completely consumed by the man and didn’t want him to stop rubbing her clit so perfectly, “A little harder, please?” She whines, starting to rock her hips forward into Geto’s hand, over and over.

Geto hums out a chuckle, lips parting from Riku’s neck after a long kiss, “Demanding, aren’t we?” Geto carefully presses his fingers just a bit harder to Riku’s clit, picking up the speed of his circling as well. He straightens his neck and cocks his head to one side to study Riku’s every reaction to his movements, “How’s that, Ri?”

Riku again can’t help but hate the honesty in Geto’s tone—like he really cares so much about her pleasure; it’s as if Geto knows exactly how to drive Riku crazy, both physically and mentally. She simply moans to the perfect friction Geto creates between her legs, cheeks flushed deep red to the bit of embarrassment and immense heat that courses throughout her body.

“You’re not gonna answer me?” As if a switch had flipped within him, Geto’s voice suddenly turns dark and is nearly venomous; and a pleasant shock of adrenaline shoots down Riku’s spine to focus in her abdomen. He suddenly stops, removing his right hand from between her legs, “I’m not asking for a lot, Ri.”

“No—yes!” Riku quickly opens her eyes and moans the words out, grasping Geto’s right hand with her own and directing it back between her legs again, “It feels good… Please keep going, Suguru!”

Geto snickers into her ear, “You’re so fucking greedy.” He spits the words under his breath, relenting to return his fingers to Riku’s clit and begin rubbing it again, “See? Was that so hard?”

“Shut up.” Riku complains breathily, simultaneously turning her head back towards Geto’s to press her lips to his in a kiss that immediately turns lewd. Geto’s left hand releases Riku’s breast and instead grasps her wet curls at the root, continuing to speed up the circling of his fingers between her legs. Riku moans into Geto’s equally open mouth, tongue swirling with his as she feels his dick twitch against her lower back beneath the water. She moves her hips even more, the pace of her rolling increasing as she rocks into Geto’s hand. The sense of overwhelming pleasure hits her abruptly, and all of a sudden, she’s on the edge of her climax. Riku parts her lips from Geto’s, brows quivering together and jaw falling open with gratification as a long moan spills from her mouth, “Fuck, Suguru—gonna cum really hard…!”

“Yeah, Ri?” He murmurs lowly into her ear, voice sultry, “Show me how good I make you feel.”

“Ahh…!” Riku cries out at the command of Geto’s fingers, hips jerking and body convulsing on his with each wave of her orgasm as he continues to rub her through it. Her head feels light and spacey as she comes down from her high, and she sinks further into the hot bath water.

Geto laughs at first, thinking it’s just Riku being dramatic, but then stops and quickly locks his arm around her waist before her head slips completely under the water, “Whoa, Riku—careful, babe. You okay?”

Riku turns in Geto’s grasp, weakly wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head beside his. She grumbles as she wraps her legs around his waist, “My head’s been hurting today, and I’m sleepy now.”  Riku whines her complaints a bit childishly.

Geto sighs, rubbing his hands up the smooth skin of Riku’s back, “So you want me to baby you?”

“It’s called aftercare!”

Geto chuckles, “Guess that’s fair after what Satoru put you through today… And that asshat hardly has the patience for shit like aftercare.” Geto sits up and pulls back just enough so he can look into Riku’s eyes and places his hands on her cheeks as he speaks, “But don’t worry, beautiful. You can always come to me after Satoru’s rough with you. I’ll take care of you.”

Riku can’t tell if Geto is playing with her or if he’s really being truthful and it pisses her off—but she feels a strong pull in her chest after hearing his words, regardless, and that’s even worse. What’s wrong with me?! She thinks, making a funny face at Geto in response. Her eyes twitch with a mix of agitation and adoration and her lips quiver in and out of a hard line.

Get laughs once to this, “What’s that face?”

“Nothing!” She hides her face once more in the crook of Geto’s neck.

Geto shakes his head with a smirk, slowly rising from the bath water with Riku in his arms, “You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met, Ri.” He steadily steps out of it, “Let’s get you outta here.”

*

Riku is startled awake by her ringtone chiming, stirring beneath the covers of Geto’s bed and glancing around the room to orient herself when she realizes he’s no longer there. Her phone continues to ring, and she blinks sleepily a few times, simply staring at the device that vibrates rhythmically on the nightstand in the distance. Riku reaches over and picks it up, seeing the name ‘NANAMI’ flash across the top of it before swiping her finger across it, “Hello?”

“Hey, Ri. You alright? Haven’t heard your voice in a while.” Nanami’s rich, deep, and husky voice comes through the line, and Riku can’t help but appreciate its hypnotic nature as her eyes are heavy with sleep.

Why does he have to sound so damn good all the time? She nestles her ear a little further into the phone speaker as she reclines back into the sheets again, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Wait, were you asleep?”

Riku sighs, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, “Mhm, what time is it?”

“It’s hardly midnight. Sorry, Ri, thought you’d still be awake on a Saturday night.”

“S’okay. Fell asleep really early since my head was hurting. Probably would’ve messed up my sleeping schedule if you didn’t call.” She clears her throat, voice still a little hoarse.

“Where’s Satoru and Suguru? They treating you well?”

“Um, I don’t know, actually… maybe working? Suguru was here earlier, but I think he’s gone now. And they’re treating me fine.”

“They left you alone? Hm, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“There’s plenty of guards, like at least 50 around and some even inside the house, so it’s fine. Plus, it’s Geto’s territory. It’s supposed to be hard to get here without being noticed, right?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to, but we should stay on the phone until one of them comes back.”

“Ken…!” Riku whines, rubbing her fingers into her temples tiredly, “That could be hours!”

“You don’t have to say anything—you can even fall asleep. Just stay on the line with me to be safe, Ri, okay?”

“Fine.” Riku sighs and taps the speaker icon on her phone before navigating to her iMessages, seeing that Geto had sent her a text about going to the fight club for some quick business, “Oh.”

“What?” Nanami asks, curiously.

“Suguru texted me. He made a quick run to Satoru’s fight club.”

“Huh.” Nanami says, sounding as if he’s lost in thought.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about the yakuza fight club?”

Nanami takes a long pause before speaking again, “Truthfully, Ri—it’s way too dangerous of a place for you to be.”

“Okay, going in the club is one thing, but I couldn’t even know it existed at all? How does that make sense?!” Riku sits up in bed a little, notably agitated.

Nanami sighs, “I was just trying to keep you out of that kind of trouble. I mean you know yourself best, Ri. Can you really blame me for not letting you hear about it?”

Riku boils with anger, “It’s not my fault I get in trouble all the time! It’s almost always some yakuza asshole’s fault, every fucking time! And you know it!” She tosses the phone—still on speaker—on the pillow beside her and crosses her arms over her silk robe-covered chest, “And you have the nerve to blame me for fighting back when people try to hurt me, verbally, physically, or whatever?!!”

“Riku—”

“How dare you! Meanwhile you’re having the time of your life bashing some random yakuza muscle’s head in and getting paid to do it, right?!”

“…Satoru told you that?” Nanami asks, voice calm, in complete contrast with Riku’s.

“Yeah, he did, actually!”

“That was before I worked for your family, Ri. I needed the money. I did what I could to survive.”

“Then work at KFC or something!”

“KFC?” Nanami sounds confused, then stifles a chuckle, “I couldn’t work a job like that. Fighting is the only real thing I’m good at.”

“No, it’s not!” Riku protests, voice still raised.

Nanami sighs again, “Then what am I good at, Ri?”

She tugs at a curl that rests on her forehead, finally lowering her tone back to its normal volume, “Protecting people.”

“I’m glad you think that about me. Lately it seems like I’ve been messing up on that quite a bit, when it comes to you.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job, in my opinion… you’ve just got an unlucky yakuza girl with an attitude as a client.” Riku rests her head on the pillow, just beside the phone. She stares down at Nanami’s name that flashes across the call screen, sort of wishing she could be near him.

“Client and friend.” Nanami clarifies.

Riku smiles, allowing her eyes to flutter shut at the sound of that, “Mhm.” The two are both quiet for nearly a minute, but Riku speaks up again, “Ken?”

“Yes, Ri.” Nanami coos smoothly in his velvet tone, and Riku enjoys how loyally he responds to her.

“Tell me a story.”

“You want me to read you a bedtime story? Riku, you’re 25.” Nanami doesn’t laugh, but she can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Whatever! You have a nice voice for it, so just tell me one. Tell me… a crazy story about a fight you were in.”

“Oh, you like my voice, hm?” Nanami deepens his husky voice when he speaks.

Riku clears her throat, feeling her cheeks redden, “The story, Ken!”

He chuckles honestly, a truly rare occurrence—and Riku is nearly surprised by the sound of it, “Okay, alright. So, one night, when I was at a bar with Satoru and Suguru…”

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 7: Life's a Beach

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

chapter word count: 7k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba-

fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

“God, I’m starving.” Gojo complains, throwing his head back a bit dramatically. Now at the beach, Gojo and Riku walk the long stretch of boardwalk by the ocean that’s lined with small shacks, beachwear shops, food stands, arcades, and even an outdoor theme park.

Other than the coffee shop they’d just left half an hour ago, Riku thinks the boardwalk is the most normal place she’s been to with Gojo. The walkway is crowded with locals and tourists navigating through all its attractions and the white haired man holds her close by her hand that’s clasped in his. Gojo hadn’t let her hand go since he’d asked to hold it when they were in the car, and Riku feels her cheeks tinge red at the mere thought, “Even after those donuts? The ones you didn’t even let me try?” She adds, undeniably a bit disappointed as the man had raved about them back at the shop.

Gojo sighs, “Sorry, babe,” he leans close to her ear, “I promise I’ll give you something sweeter.”

The lowly whispered words cause Riku to jolt upright a little more, and her cheeks redden even further. She feels a few eyes on the two of them as they pass through the crowded boardwalk, “Are you even capable of being sweet to me, you know…” she trails off, a bit embarrassed; she says the last part just above a whisper, “in bed? You don’t seem like the type at all.”

Gojo speaks just as low, eyes focused on navigating the boardwalk as he speaks but a smirk on his face, “Princess, if I fucked you nice and sweet like that, you’d lose your fucking mind. Trust me, Suguru ain’t got shit on me.”

Riku hums to herself in response to Gojo’s words, amused.

Gojo turns to look over at Riku, smirk growing into a grin, “What? You in the mood to get the sense fucked outta you or something?”

“No!” Riku protests, raising her voice from a whisper.

Gojo laughs, unbelieving, “If you say so…” he squeezes her hand, “come on, babe. We’re here.”

Riku looks up at the small shack of a restaurant that looks terribly run down, the sign ‘IWAI’S’ crookedly plastered above the door on a big wooden slab, “This is the place…?” She quirks a brow as Gojo pulls her closer.

“Mhm.” He raises Riku’s hand with his own to his lips, offering the back of it a quick peck before letting it go and opening the door for her, that chirps loudly with the numerous wind chimes attached to its front.

Riku steps in and is surprised by the dark, quaint, yet clean and izakaya-style ambiance of the small restaurant as it’s completely different from its exterior. The place seems to be completely empty, but a man suddenly appears from what looks to be the kitchen in a rugged black apron and a white bandana tied around the top of his head. He has a small goatee and is around the same height and build as Gojo – around 190cm or 6’3” – only seemingly a few years older and a bit leaner and thinner.

“Satoru! Hey, man!” He strides around the bar to greet his friend, but pauses when he sees Riku, eyes widening, “Shit, who the hell do we have here?” He smirks as he shamelessly looks Riku up and down in her beachwear.

Gojo possessively slips his thick arm around Riku, removes his sunglasses, and gestures between the two others with his free hand, “Iwai, Riku. Riku, meet Iwai.” He puts his spectacles in his pocket.

“Hi, Iwai.” Riku extends her hand, a faint smile on her lips.

Iwai lightly grasps and shakes it slowly, admiring Riku with alluring, half-lidded eyes, “Hi, Riku. You’re absolutely gorgeous… like a fucking painting.”

Riku’s smile brightens, “Thank you.”

He shakes his head to himself in disbelief, “Might just be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Alright, that’s enough, Iwai.” Gojo says, tone nonchalant but irritation more than evident in his eyes. His arm unconsciously tightens around Riku.

“What? She yours or something?” Iwai questions.

“Y—”

“Nope! I don’t belong to anybody.” Riku confidently interrupts before Gojo can finish.

Gojo clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth once to Riku’s words, irritation spreading to his brows, “A real fucking brat, this one…” He drops his arm from around her to cross both of them over his chest, “She’s Jin Ozaki’s niece.

Iwai guffaws to Gojo and Riku’s interaction, “She’s yakuza, and she has the guts to stand up to you?!” His eyes shift back down to Riku with adoration, “I think I’m in love.”

Gojo sighs, “Iwai, just let us taste the damn club’s new pairing menu. I got shit to do.”

“Alright, alright,” Iwai raises his arms in protest, “right this way,” he turns, gesturing towards and beginning to walk over to one of the small tables in the corner of the room. Gojo and Riku ease down onto the small stools, Riku removes her crossbody bag, and Iwai looks to Riku again but this time a lot more collected, “If you’re Ozaki, I’m assuming you have a more refined palate and appreciation for culinary artistry? Unlike this sugar-addicted asshole?”

“You’d be correct.” Riku giggles lightly.

“Fuck you, Iwai. Sweet stuff just tastes better and everybody knows it.”

“Sure, boss.” Iwai dismisses Gojo’s words with disbelief, “I’ll get you two some water and bring out the first course in a bit.” Iwai begins to walk back towards the bar.

Gojo huffs a frustrated laugh out, shaking his head at Riku, “What’s that now, strike two?”

“Strike two?” Riku asks curiously.

“First you’re smart with me back at the café, now this?” Gojo nudges Riku’s leg beneath the table with his knee, “You must like getting punished or something.” He murmurs the words deliciously low, eyes dark and a sick smirk on his lips.

“Whatever, Satoru. You’re not gonna do shit anyways.” Riku brushes Gojo’s words off, instead moving her gaze to look around at the small izakaya’s decor.

Gojo’s eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape with a short laugh, genuinely surprised by Riku’s backtalk, “Oh? You wanna test that theory? Try me, babe.”

“You wouldn’t do that in public, not in the middle of a restaurant like this. Even if it is empty.” Riku says in disbelief, still avoiding Gojo’s eyes.

“Ri, I’ll bend you over this table right now.”

“No you wo—” Riku starts when Gojo suddenly grabs her arm and yanks it forward, causing her chest to fall and completely press against the flat of the wooden table. Gojo even begins to stand, but Riku protests, her entire face burning bright red, “W-wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Satoru!”

“Yeah you are.” Gojo, face completely calm and satisfied with Riku’s reaction, releases her arm and sits back down, “That’s better.”

Riku quickly raises her chest up off the table and readjusts her coverup dress.

Iwai looks curiously between Riku and Gojo when he returns with their waters, especially to Riku who looks down at the table and toys with one of the curls at the back of her head, cheeks flushed and an embarrassed expression on her face, “Uh, here’s the water… First appetizer is in the works. You drinking today, Gojo?”

“Nah. This one’s the real sake connoisseur.” Gojo gestures to Riku.

“Really? Good; now I can get a real opinion on these bottles.” Iwai chuckles, already walking back towards the kitchen.

*

After seven courses of intricately crafted small plates and their seven uniquely paired servings of rare sake, though not drunk, Riku is far past buzzed and quite tipsy. She giggles to herself at nothing in particular, her cheeks and neck tinged pink with warmth.

“What’s so funny?” Gojo quirks a brow at Riku from across the table. As he hadn’t had anything to drink, he eyes Riku suspiciously.

“Nothing! Just feel nice.” Riku smiles warmly, closing her eyes for a bit to enjoy the weightless feeling in her body.

“Is that so?” Gojo studies Riku’s body with his eyes, slowly taking in each bit of her that’s visible him – the flushed cheeks, neck, chest… he huffs a chuckle at the woman who’s clearly enjoying herself, “Well, glad one of us is having fun.”

“Come on; hasn’t trying the food been fun, too?” Riku opens her eyes and challenges playfully.

“Yeah, but clearly not as much fun as you’re having.” He crosses his thick arms across his chest.

Riku blinks up at Gojo, simply getting lost in his cerulean eyes for a moment. He’s so handsome. She thinks to herself. Riku can’t help but appreciate the perfectly chiseled face, broad shoulders, and toned chest that’s even visible with his button up, short-sleeve beach shirt on. Riku shifts her leg under the table so that it gently nudges and hooks around one of Gojo’s. She slowly moves it up and down, rubbing his leg with her own, “You wanna feel good, too?” She boldly asks, batting her eyes at the white haired man flirtatiously.

Gojo’s brows lift with surprise at Riku’s boldness and opens his mouth to speak, but just then, Iwai returns to their table with a tray that holds two small dishes and a single serving of sake.

“Alright,” Iwai sets the dishes down on the table, “last one. We got anmitsu—an assortment of mochi, red bean, and chestnut flavored jelly cubes topped with matcha ice cream. And for you, Riku,” he sets down the small sake glass, “we have a sweet plum wine to go with. It’s a 3-year aged Asahi Shuzo Dassai umeshu.”

“This looks so good! Everything’s been so delicious, Iwai.”

“Thanks, beautiful,” Iwai smirks brightly, “glad you liked the pairings.”

Riku dramatically drops her chin into her hands, propped up by her elbows on the table, “I wish I could eat delicious food like this every day…” She sighs, pouting ever so slightly.

“Riku, gorgeous as you are—if you were mine, I’d get up at the ass-crack of dawn to make you whatever you want.” His smirk grows, gaze heavy with infatuation as he looks down at Riku.

Riku giggles, “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

Already digging into his dessert, Gojo loudly clears his throat, clearly irritated by Riku and Iwai’s exchange.

“Let me know if you need anything else; more water, some coffee, whatever. I make a damn good matcha caramel macchiato, you know.”

“Ooo… that sounds good!” Riku says excitedly.

“We’re good,” Gojo checks his watch, “we gotta get going to the gym soon, anyways.”

“Aw…” Riku complains, a small frown on her face.

“I can make it to-go.” Iwai suggests.

“Yay! Thanks, Iwai.” Riku’s excitement returns as quickly as it had left. She picks up the small spoon on her plate and scoops up some of the mochi and ice cream before taking a bite. She immediately hums to the perfect balance of light, sweet flavors, “Mm… this is absolutely perfect. So delicious!”

“Try it with a sip of the umeshu.” Iwai notes, already heading back towards the kitchen.

Riku takes a sip from the small sake glass, eyes lighting up as the sweet flavored notes of the liquid hits her tongue, “Oh, this is good… You might like this, actually.” Riku suggests, glancing over to Gojo.

“Let me try.”

Riku passes the small glass to Gojo, who takes a slow sip. He pauses after tasting the umeshu, and then his eyes widen similarly to Riku’s, “Wow, that is pretty good—for alcohol.”

Riku shakes her head to Gojo’s response, “It’s amazing.” She clarifies, “Just because there aren't 10 spoonfuls of sugar in it, doesn’t mean it isn’t good.” She continues to take tiny bites of her dessert.

Already nearly finished with his own dessert, Gojo watches Riku as she eats, shaking his head to himself, “Also, that’s strike three, babe.”

Riku gasps, jaw dropping in surprise as she placed her spoon back down on her plate, “But I didn’t even do anything!”

“Flirting with Iwai, right in front of me?” Gojo quirks a brow at Riku.

“Oh my god, I wasn’t even flirting.” Riku rolls her eyes, dramatically sighing the words.

“Ri, you look at any average guy with that puppy dog eyes and pout combination and he’s falling for you. Without a doubt.”

“Okay, but that’s not my fault, though.” Riku takes the sake glass back from Gojo, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass like a shot.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” Gojo says flatly, “You’re not as slick as you think you are, Ri.” His smirk grows into a grin when he’s suddenly struck with an idea. He stands to his feet, quickly grabbing Riku by her arm and pulling her up out of her seat and towards a narrow hall on the other side of the restaurant.

“Hey…! What are you doing?!” Riku protests head swimming a bit to the combination of the alcohol in her system and the sudden movement.

“Teaching you a lesson.” Gojo says sinfully low as they approach the door to the private bathroom in the back of the izakaya. He opens it and pushes Riku in so that she collies with the sink, then closes and locks the door behind them.

“Ow!” Riku complains, rubbing her hip that had hit the corner of the sink. Though it’s quaint and clean, the bathroom – made mostly of black stone and accented with polished wood – is just as narrow as the hallway and both Gojo and Riku hardly fit in it, “That hurt, asshole! Agh—”

Riku exclaims a short gasp when Gojo suddenly closes the space between them and simultaneously hoists her up on the edge of the sink while pushing up the netted fabric of her coverup dress. Gojo wastes no time in joining their lips, pulling Riku’s knees apart so he’s pressed flush against her body. He kisses her harsh and quickly forces his tongue in between her lips to dance with hers.

Riku moans into Gojo’s mouth when he rubs his hands up the sides of her hips and around her waist, thumbs massaging into the barely clothed skin there. Gojo moves his lips to Riku’s neck and his large, kneading hands to her breasts and she whimpers, heat already beginning to pool between her legs from Gojo’s touch. Riku’s skin already feels warm from all the sake she’d drank, and her pulse only beats hotter and more thickly in her neck when Gojo licks and sucks red marks into it. Gojo’s hands are rough with her, and Riku appreciates how the man doesn’t hold back. She giggles a bit, “This is punishment?”

Gojo releases his hold on one of Riku’s breasts to reach up and yank her head back with a quick, sharp tug of her hair—backing her up just enough so she can see his cold, hard gaze. It’s a look so emotionless that it honestly sends a shiver down Riku’s spine. It’s broken when Gojo suddenly chuckles, however, lips curving up into a grin at the sight of Riku beneath him, sitting on the edge of the sink with a flustered expression on her face, “Hm. So now you want to be touched? That’s funny…” He leans closer to Riku to suck her earlobe between his lips, gently tugging on it before lewdly licking inside the rim of her ear.

Riku twitches and moans to the feel of Gojo’s breath and tongue on her ear, legs shaking for a second as she feels herself grow wetter beneath her bikini.

Gojo abruptly releases her completely and steps back as much as he can in the small bathroom, which causes Riku to blink dazedly at him at the sudden lack of touch. He pushes his hands into his pockets, face and voice both completely calm and collected as he speaks his next words, “You’ve been pushing and pulling me all day, babe. So, tell me, what do you really want, Ricchan?”

“I…” Riku trails off, thinking to herself before replying with the only current thought in her head, “want you.”

Gojo folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head once, unimpressed, “Too vague. Try again.”

Riku's cheeks redden even more under his focused gaze, “I want you to fuck me…” She says low, just above a whisper and voice shaking with embarrassment.

“What was that?” Gojo turns his head to poke his ear in Riku’s direction, only pretending he can’t hear her, “I couldn’t catch it. Speak up.”

Riku grumbles impatiently and out of embarrassment, a fire behind her eyes, “I said I want your dick inside of me, okay?!” Her face is completely red now, and Gojo laughs at the sight.

“You look like a tomato!” He guffaws childishly, jabbing his index finger towards her.

“Shut up…!”

Gojo reaches in his back pocket, retrieving a condom from it, “But I guess it’s better. I’ll give you what you want, Ricchan, but I won’t be nice and hold back—even if you ask me to…” He unbuttons his shorts and tugs them and his boxers down just below his hips, causing his dick to spring up and to attention. He tears the foil package open.

Riku’s eyes widen at Gojo’s size, still in disbelief of how that had been inside of her last night.

“…can you take it?” Gojo asks, rolling the condom onto his dick.

Riku bites her lip to the sight of Gojo’s movements, nodding with a lewd gaze. She feels her breaths begin to deepen in heated anticipation and spreads her legs a little more, using one of her hands to pull her bikini to one side and tease herself with her fingers.

Gojo’s eyes dart down to between Riku’s legs, and he watches as she plays with herself, on display just for him. He glances back up to her eyes, and closes the gap between them, hand reaching up to harshly grab and squeeze the sides of her neck with his thumb and index. Gojo is at Riku’s ear again, muttering his wanton words into it between wet kisses and sucks to her earlobe, “You slut. You only want affection when it’s like this… don’t you?”

“Yes…” Riku strains out in a whine, practically aching between her legs for him to fill her up with his cock, “I need it so bad, Satoru.” She feels just the right amount of lightheaded with Gojo’s hand locked around her neck and is so turned on she doesn’t really care about how ridiculous she sounds at the moment.

Gojo presses his forehead against Riku’s with a wild grin, “Shit, babe, you might just be as fucking sick and twisted as me…” He teases the tip of his dick at her entrance and rubs it over her wet folds, “But you just had this last night, no? You already want me again, Ricchan?” He coos the question salaciously.

“Please!” She whimpers, rolling her hips forward and closer to Gojo’s so that his dick prods harder against her pussy.

“You asked for it.” And with the end of his words, Gojo savagely thrusts all the way into Riku’s cunt with a single, hard jut of his hips, his free hand grasping and holding hers down in place on the edge of the sink so she can’t get away from him… so she has to take every inch of his cock.

“S-Sator—” Riku nearly screams from the pain of Gojo entering her so harshly but is cut off when the hand on her throat swiftly moves to clasp over her mouth.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you horny slut.” Gojo spits coldly, his expression mildly irritated to all the noise Riku was making, but simultaneously more than visibly turned on from her moans. He doesn’t waste any time and thrusts into her over and over, hard and fast. The sink even bumps loudly against the wall at the force of his aggressive movements. Gojo looks Riku directly in her eyes as he muffles her moans with his hand pressed tightly over her mouth, fucking her hard and unceasingly, “You were just flirting with Iwai minutes ago; you really want him to hear you getting fucked in the back of his restaurant?”

Riku’s long nails dig into the skin of Gojo’s lower hips and she shudders to the intense sensations he gives her with each dastard pump of his dick, eyes rolling back into her head for a moment as a strong jolt of pleasure abruptly courses through her body without warning. All of a sudden, she’s squeezing and pulsing tight around Gojo’s cock, and a long, muffled moan is falling from her lips.

Gojo pauses in his thrusting at the feel of Riku tightly gripping his dick in rhythmic waves, “Did you just cum?” A smirk slowly takes over his previously icy expression.

Riku doesn’t realize it until after it’s already over and she’s coming down from her high. She’s never been fucked hard like this before and didn’t think it was possible for her to climax so quick. Gojo releases Riku’s lips and she simply blinks and pants heavily, half-dazed and half-tired from orgasming so intensely.

“Shit, Ri, you like pain that much?” Gojo laughs at her, “I mean, fuck, what was that? One minute?”

“Don’t laugh at me…!” Riku’s not sure if it’s the sheer embarrassment, the pain from Gojo’s thrusting, her vulnerability from just having orgasmed, or a mixture of all three, but tears well up at the corners of her eyes.

“I told you, that crying shit won’t work on me. And I’m not finished with you.” Gojo says before slamming back into Riku with a rough buck of his hips.

Riku bites her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out.

“Why don’t you do some work for once?” Gojo grabs under Riku’s knees to pull her legs up and around his waist, “Put your arms around my neck. You can hold your weight can’t you?”

When Riku follows Gojo’s directions he stands upright and her body is lifted above the sink. She clings to Gojo to hold herself up, now more readily breathing in the citrus, musk, and vanilla notes of his scent at their proximity.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Gojo harshly slaps the flat of his hand under the curve of Riku’s ass and she clenches on his dick in response, a quick moan spilling from her lips, “Move.” He commands.

Arms locked around Gojo’s neck for purchase, Riku moves her ass up and down at a steady rhythm. Though the position doesn’t allow for much movement, she continues like this for a few minutes and tries to please Gojo in her messy, dazed state, whispered moans and whimpers fleeing her mouth each time Gojo’s dick hits her spot just right.

“You can do better than that, Ri…” Gojo severely slaps both of his hands on Riku’s ass cheeks over and over, sure to leave marks on the now reddened skin there as she continues to throw her hips back and forth on his dick. Face now buried in his shoulder, Riku softly cries out into Gojo’s shirt as he batters her ass with hits, head beginning to melt at her own arousal from this situation.

Gojo’s touch throughout the day – his hands rubbing on her back, around her waist, even his fingers flirting with her breasts –  had slowly affected Riku, little by little, and now she was so desperate for for the man that she was fucking him in the back of a restaurant. It was honestly embarrassing to think about the complete mess he’d made out of her body. On top of this, Riku had never been pushed so harshly during sex before, and neither had the line between her pain and pleasure. Gojo had been cruel in his treatment and fucking of Riku, and as she was the type of girl who was used to men treating her like a princess all the time, his brutish punishment of her like this only drove her crazier.

Riku moves her arms down so that her hands are on Gojo’s shoulders. She uses them like a pull up bar, pulling her weight up and down so that she moves more significantly on and off of his dick with each jerk of her hips. She throws her head back up to get a look at Gojo, her own cheeks reddened and eyes hazy with pleasure. Though she could hold her weight, even her arms were quickly growing sore and tired from holding moving herself up and down on Gojo in this way.

“That’s better. See, Ricchan? You can fuck yourself on my dick just fine.”

“Fuck…” Riku whispers the word, enjoying the feel of Gojo’s dick pushing into her over and over again at the command of her hips and her own set pace. It doesn’t take long for her to slow down from the tiredness and soreness in her arms, though, and she eventually comes to a still.

“Hm, well that was short-lived.” Gojo notes, almost too plainly.

“I’m sorry…! Please, Satoru… please fuck me!” Riku begs, arms shaking. Gojo can see that Riku is honest in her words from her timid body language—that’s much different from her usual dismissive yet playful and hot-headed attitude. It only takes a moment of looking into her eyes for him to tell that he’s pushed her a lot physically, and that she’s barely holding on (pun intended).

Gojo finally wraps his arms around Riku’s back with a sigh, breaking his mean streak and easily taking her weight into his hands, “You did well, babe. Way better than most could.” He praises, kissing her temple with a small peck before walking them over to and pinning her against the wooden door of the bathroom, “Let me take it from here.”

Gojo suddenly thrusts into Riku hard and fast, nailing her into the wood with one hand on her hip and the other on her mouth again. The door bangs loudly in its frame at Gojo’s brutish movements but he doesn’t let up, looking Riku in the eyes as she comes undone with pleasure. Her muffled moans gradually grow louder into choked groans, her breathing becoming more and more irregular with each strong buck of his hips. Riku grips Gojo’s broad shoulders tightly, legs gently shaking around his waist at the heavy pleasure that focuses in her abdomen and pushes its way up her spine. She looks at Gojo with wide eyes, and he immediately understands, “I know, babe; I’m close, too…” He softly grunts the words and rests his head in the slope of Riku’s neck.

Riku’s body jerks and twitches with the intensity of her climax and she lets loose a muffled cry into Gojo’s palm. His breath grows ragged when Riku clenches on him and his hips slam into hers one last time as he cums, “Ah, fuck, Riku…” Gojo curses, keeping her pinned against the door with one arm while the other moves from her mouth to cup her cheek. Gojo presses his lips to Riku’s passionately yet tiredly, offering her a few lewd, open-mouthed kisses before finally breaking away and pulling out of her.

Gojo slowly releases and eases Riku back down onto her feet, “You good?” He brushes a few stray curls from her face and rubs his thumbs over her flushed cheeks, “Was I too mean to you?” He smirks.

Riku winces a bit to the soreness between her legs, on her ass, and in her arms when she stands on her own, using Gojo’s arm to stable herself when she stumbles a bit. He instinctively catches her wrist in his hand when she does but she quickly regains her balance, “Yeah, you were, but I can take it… and I had fun.” Riku smiles soft yet honestly at Gojo, starting to readjust her bikini and smooth out her coverup dress.

“You did?” Gojo leans over and close to Riku’s face, pressing a light peck to her lips.

“Mhm.”

He pecks her lips again, “You gonna be a good girl f’me the rest of the day?”

Riku nods, smiling sweet and submissively up at Gojo, “Yes.”

“Good.” Gojo pecks her lips one last time before straightening back up and beginning to remove and discard his condom, “Another day of fucking the brat outta you, hm?” Gojo chuckles, “You need to use the bathroom, babe?” He pulls and buttons his shorts back up, then quickly washes his hands.

“Yeah, I should.” Riku pushes a curl behind her ear shyly, trading places with Gojo in the bathroom so she’s no longer at the door.

“Take your time. I’ll wait for you outside with your coffee, alright?” Gojo winks at her, unlocking the door and opening it slowly.

Riku nods quietly and Gojo makes his exit, closing the door behind him.

Of course, just then, Iwai turns the corner in the hallway and his eyes widen when he sees Gojo closing the door. His look of surprise suddenly turns into a knowing smirk and he laughs, “Seriously? And here I was thinking the dishwasher was acting up again…” He shakes his head and crosses his arms, “Riku still in there?”

“Yeah, she’s freshening up.” Gojo grins.

Iwai chuckles, “Jesus Christ. Well, I got her macchiato out front.” Iwai waves Gojo along already heading back towards the restaurant’s main space.

Gojo follows along until they reach the bar that has a small coffee cup with a lid and sleeve on it. He sits down on one of the stools with a small sigh.

Iwai moves behind the counter, wiping the surface of it down with a wet rag, “Now, where’d you find a girl like her?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Gojo looks up into space for a second, thinking before he meets Iwai’s eyes again, “She’d tell you that we met at the gala a few nights ago, but really, I met her years ago when we were kids. Don’t think she remembers that, though.”

“Interesting… So she got a sister or anything?” Iwai quirks a brow.

Gojo cackles, “A cousin, but that’s it. And if she’s anything like Riku, I wouldn’t touch her.” Gojo advises, folding his hands on the bar top with a small smirk on his lips.

“Why’s that? Tryna hog all the hotties for yourself?” Iwai retrieves a clean class from behind the bar and fills it with water using the soda tap.

“It’s not that. She’s just a little bit… troublesome. Maybe a lot bit.” Gojo admits, cocking his head to one side.

“You say that when you’re going out with her right now.” Iwai lifts his pointer from his cup, raising the glass as he speaks before taking a long sip from it.

“Yeah, but I can handle it. Can you?” Gojo asks, challengingly.

“What kind of trouble are we talkin’?” Iwai asks before taking another sip of water.

“Kicking Toji in the balls kind of trouble.”

Iwai spits his water out but off towards the floor of the bar, then coughs and clears his throat, eyes wide with surprise, “Shit…”

Gojo lets loose a loud laugh to Iwai’s reaction.

“Yeah, I don’t want Toji problems, even as pretty as she is. Really the only person who can handle Toji problems is… well, you. Maybe Suguru, too.”

“And there it is.” Gojo concludes, and both of their heads turn when they hear Riku approaching.

She secures her small crossbody bag over her shoulder as she walks towards them and stops at the edge of the bar to pick up the small coffee cup, clearly ignorant to their prior conversation, “This for me?”

“Sure is.” Iwai confirms with a nod.

Riku takes a sip, “Oh my god… What the hell?!” She takes another one, “This is insanely good!” Her expression looks frustrated, but she continues to take small sips of the matcha caramel macchiato.

Iwai laughs, “That's some review. Thanks, Riku. You mind if I send Gojo a survey for you to fill out about the pairings?”

Riku shakes her head, “Not at all. I’d be happy to fill it out.” She smiles, moving towards Gojo’s side, “Thanks for the good food and drinks!” Riku beams with a certain glow about her.

“Anytime. Seriously, if I’m not at the club, I’m here—if you ever want a bite.” Iwai offers, "And, we typically open around…” he checks his watch, “now, actually.”

“Well, I can’t pass up an offer like that.” Riku muses, smile turning into a playful smirk, “Maybe I’ll bring some friends, too. Thank you.”

Gojo rises from the stool and to his feet, slipping his hand down to grasp and interlock his fingers with Riku’s free one, “You ready, babe?” He looks at her in a way that’s telling to their physical and growing emotional connection: direct and unashamedly with a touch of infatuation.

“Mhm.” Riku mirrors Gojo’s gaze, not breaking from it until the other turns to say goodbye to Iwai.

“Alright. Thanks, Iwai. See you at the club later.” Gojo waves his hand at the other with the one that doesn’t hold Riku’s.

“See you, Satoru.”

“Bye, Iwai!” Riku raises her coffee towards the man as her and Gojo head towards the door, lifting a few of her fingers from the cup to wave goodbye.

“Bye Riku. Please bring your friends.”

Riku giggles, “Sure thing.”

Gojo holds the door for Riku and she slips through, the bright light of the early afternoon straining her eyes for a moment. When they adjust, she notices the long line that’s already started to wrap around Iwai’s restaurant.

Riku hums in realization, “I thought it was weird a spot with food as good as that wasn’t filled to the brim… No wonder, it wasn’t open yet.”

“Yep.” Gojo pops the ‘p,’ eyes scanning the boardwalk that’s now even more full with beach goers. He retrieves his sunglasses from his pocket and puts them back on. Riku immediately feels eyes on them when they exit the izakaya, but Gojo doesn’t seem phased by it. He looks used to it, if anything. Do they really stand out so much?

“This way.” Gojo begins to walk them towards the right, gently squeezing Riku’s hand before doing so, “You wanna take the boardwalk way, or walk by the ocean?”

Riku looks around at the unmistakable hundreds if not thousands of people that crowd the long stretch of boardwalk that at least stretches for half a mile, “Um… beach, please.”

“You got it, princess.” Gojo navigates through the crowd with Riku at his side until they reach a beach entrance.

Riku downs the rest of her coffee as they approach the sand and dumps the cup in a nearby trash can, beginning to dig in her bag for her sun shades. She finally finds and slips them on, “You need sunscreen?” She suggests, pulling out and brandishing a small spray bottle from her purse.

“Nah, I’m good babe. Put some on this morning. But thanks.” Gojo doesn’t look at Riku but continues to walk them through the groups of people set up on the beach sand, keeping his hand locked with hers as they navigate through the uneven, sliding slopes of sand in their flip flops.

“Okay, but you should reapply, you know.” Riku says, putting her sunscreen back into her back before zipping it up again, “I did back at the restaurant.”

“That how you keep your skin so soft?” Gojo asks, finally glancing at Riku once they reach the bit of hard sand just before the ocean waves. It’s far less crowded than the beach and boardwalk, and Riku is glad she chose this route. They begin to walk along the stretch of wet sand.

“That’s part of it,” Riku notes, “you have pretty nice skin, too, you know.”

Gojo laughs once, “Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before. Not with all these scars.” He shrugs his shoulders and lifts his free hand, vaguely gesturing to the faint lines that litter his arms.

Riku glances down, using her hand that’s interlocked with Gojo’s to lift his hand closer to her face. She examines one of the more noticeable, long scars on Gojo’s forearm, running the pads of her fingers up the line of it and the thick veins just underneath until she reaches the bulky, toned muscle of his bicep. Even with the scars, his skin is taught and smooth to the touch, “They’ve healed really well, though.”

Gojo glances down, watching Riku inspect him with a faint smile on his lips, “Thanks, Ricchan.” He pauses, “You know, princess, you’d make a really good girl if you weren’t a crazy troublemaker raised by yakuza.”

Riku wants to be upset, but is too exhausted to have an angry bone in her body and can’t help but burst into laughter to Gojo’s words—they were kind of true, after all.

Gojo joins instantaneously, bending at the waist a bit from the good chuckle his own words had given him.

Riku pulls her hand out of Gojo’s hold, pushing his shoulder with as much strength as she can muster, “You’re an asshole.”

To Riku’s surprise, Gojo doesn’t move much from her push and simply laughs as if it was a light pat, “Uh-huh,” he grabs her arm, pulling her into his side and locking their hands once more. He bends close to her ear so only she can hear his next words, “but you like it when I’m mean to you.”

Riku lazily shoulder checks the man, but keeps her hand in his, “Shut up.” She blushes, looking off towards the water.

Gojo’s hums a small chuckle, “You don’t have to hide, babe… you can say that you like it.” His smirk turns into an alluring one and he speaks lowly, “You’re so fucking cute.” Gojo gently ruffles Riku’s hair then kisses her temple.

“People done say shit like that out loud!” Riku whisper-yells, cheeks still bright red.

“They should.” Gojo says simply, “I’d personally like to see the look on your face while saying how much you like what I do to you.” Aside from their combined presence alone, the end of Gojo’s words garner a few eyes from a few people passing by them on the beach.

“Shh!” Riku uses her hand in Gojo’s to yank his arm down.

The man only cackles in response.

“How long is it to the gym, anyways?” Riku changes the subject, frustratingly rubbing the side of her forehead. Why does he only ever want to talk about horny shit like this?

“Just fifteen minutes, give or take.” Gojo looks down the stretch of beach.

“The gym’s on the beach?”

“Basically. It’s on the other end of the boardwalk.” He clarifies.

“Oh.” Riku bites her lip when there’s a long pause in their conversation. She looks up at Gojo, who looks like he has his eyes focused on something in the distance, or is thinking about something. She decides to break the silence, “How long have you been doing martial arts?”

Gojo glances over to Riku, “Since I was 3.”

Riku’s eyes widen, “Wow, isn’t that a bit early?”

“Not for the Gojo clan, it isn’t. It’s pretty standard practice, and it’s part of the reason our family is ranked where it is.”

“Yeah, but that must’ve been rough…” Riku searches Gojo’s face for any telling emotions, but there aren’t any; he seems completely at ease about his upbringing. She brushes her hand over Gojo’s faintly scarred arm, “Are any of these from when you were a kid?”

“No,” Gojo cocks his chin upwards, and Riku immediately spots a small, white scar just beneath his jaw, “but this is.”

“Ouch,” Riku instinctively reaches up with her free hand to rub her fingers over it, “What happened?”

Gojo lowers his head back down, “I was 11, so a bit older, but there was this little girl in trouble, so I took down a bunch of muscle from a foreign syndicate that was attacking her family.”

“Aww, so you were a hero.”

Gojo shakes his head, then meets Riku’s gaze again, a curiously knowing look in his eyes, “Not quite. Both of us almost died in the process. There was a bad fire, too.”

Riku suddenly sees a flash of white, but it’s not the beach sand… It feels like she’s recalling something. It flashes again and a sharp pain tears through her head. This time the white of a flame? No, white hair…? Riku stops in her tracks, immediately pulling out of Gojo’s grasp to clasp her hands over the sides of her head. She winces, “Ah…!”

“Ri, are you okay?” Gojo turns and holds Riku’s shoulders, noticeably concerned.

Riku continues to wince with her eyes closed and holds her own face.

“Riku, are you alright?” Gojo squeezes Riku’s shoulders tighter.

Riku only hears Gojo this second time, when the flash of white fades from her vision, “Mm, yeah…” she sighs when the sharp pain in her head quickly fades into nothing, “I’m good. Sorry, that hasn’t happened in years… Like, since I was a teenager.” She drops her hands from her face, confused to why she’d had a headache now of all times.

“You sure you good?” Gojo bends close to Riku to cup and hold her head in his hands, “You need me to carry you to the gym, princess?” The concern on his face turns into a smirk.

“God, no. Please don’t do that.” Riku shakes her head furiously.

“Well, always here if you change your mind, babe.” Gojo rejoins his hand with Riku’s, giving it a small squeeze.

“Thanks, Satoru.” Riku says softly, mostly looking in the distance as they begin to walk again.

Gojo fake-gasps, “Did I just hear a thank you? From the brat herself?? I can’t believe it!”

Riku pokes Gojo’s bicep with the point of her nail, narrowing her eyes at him, “Hey, don’t push it. You’ll never hear one again if you act that way.”

Gojo quickly reaches back to slap Riku’s rear, and looks down at her in feigned confusion, pretending he hadn’t just heard her words, “What was that?”

 Riku jumps with a yelp, mostly from the preexisting soreness on her ass, “Agh…! What the fu—” she cuts herself off when she notes the unmoving, stern look on Gojo’s face, just centimeters from hers. It’s the kind of look that says, ‘Didn’t you just say you’d be a good girl for the rest of the day?’ Riku sighs, not wanting to fight Gojo’s dominant inclinations over this, “Never mind…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Riku grumbles under her breath, sure that she would have blown a fuse if it weren't for the people on the beach around them—and if it wasn't Gojo. She couldn't deny the sick part of herself that liked the other being in control. Was this how things were always going to be between us? Laughing and kissing one moment, and pissed at each other the very next?

[orivaa-kun]

I luv your fan fic! Oh please i found a reason too live tyyyyyyy

omgggg THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️🥺💖 You don't know how much this means to me... Your comment gives ME a reason to live!! New chapters will drop every other Sunday!

[orivaa-kun]

YOU'RE SO MEAN | JJK Oneshot | Nanami x Fem OC

word count: 3k warnings: mature (18+), smut, fluff, angst, oral s*x, f*ngering summary: Nanami x fem OC have fun in the car while waiting for Gojo to finish his meeting with Jujutsu higher-ups. 😉 inspired by this music mix on YouTube - "POV : Nanami Railed You In The Car While Waiting For Gojo To Finish His Mission {VO} [Slowed]" Link: YouTube

Rena leans her head against and looks out the window, eyelashes fluttering in a quick series of blinks as she gazes up at the night sky. Satoru would at least be another hour – maybe less if they were lucky. Slow r&b music lowly hums out of the car speakers, with lyrics hinting at or plainly discussing sex, love, and relationships. Rena doesn’t focus on it too much; it was just music, after all.

She glanced back inside the car and over at Kento, who was currently typing something into his phone.

It was as if he could immediately sense her gaze. “You good?” He muses as he finished typing and sending his message before connecting his phone to the charger beside the gear shift. He adjusts the review mirror to see Rena’s eyes.

“Mhm, fine.” Rena exhales in a tone that’s a bit performative. Even she notices it after the phrase has already left her mouth. Well, she couldn’t deny she was bored.

“Hm…” Kento trails off, taking a long look at Rena’s expression through the small mirror. All of a sudden, he opens his car door and steps out of the driver’s seat.

Rena furrows her brows in protest, “Where are you going?”

Kento closes the door behind him and opens the back passenger door opposite to Rena’s side before slipping in and closing the door. He sits back and stretches his legs out a bit now that he’s in the back seat with Rena, his left knee nudging her right as he stared directly at her.

Rena is genuinely confused, “What is it?”

Kento doesn’t break eye contact, “Nothing. Just seemed like you needed something.” Kento’s expression is completely neutral and void of emotion – outside of his eyes, that is. His eyes are full of interest, care, love, lust, intrigue… perhaps even obsession. His gaze is filled with everything that he felt about Rena.

Rena looks back at Kento with an equally straight expression, “Does it look like I need something?” She plays along, feigning slight annoyance.

“Yes, it does.” Kento rests his arm around Rena’s headrest, fingers gently brushing a few loose curls from the brunette’s face. His gaze follows his movement of the other’s hair before refocusing on her eyes.

Rena pauses for a moment then huffs out a single chuckle, breaking her gaze with Kento to roll her eyes, “Are we doing this right now?” She questions in a lower voice, before finally reuniting her eyes with Kento’s.

“You tell me,” Kento replies in his smooth, sultry voice, bending over to move his mouth closer to Rena’s left ear, “are we doing something in this car right now, Rena-chan?” He coos, just above a whisper.

He knew just how weak and sensitive her ears were to his voice. The words Kento spoke, though completely normal, flutter low, past her abdomen and awaken something primal in her. Rena turns her head so that she faces Kento, lips brushing over his at their close proximity, “What does it look like I need?” She asks, blinking up at Kento.

“Hm…” Kento plants a brief but passion-filled kiss on Rena’s lips, then backs up a bit, assessing her now flushed cheeks and straight, focused expression. Kento takes a good look at Rena’s face, cupping her cheek with the hand he didn’t have around her headrest, “Well, your cheeks are bright red like a rose…” He kisses her again, then his gaze and hand both snake down Rena’s body, the skin-tight black bodycon shirt and equally tight, black mini skirt.

Kento squeezes the top of Rena’s exposed thigh before moving his hand inward and up, easing her legs open towards him. He looks back up to meet her eyes, “It makes me wonder how sweet you smell.” Kento closes in on Rena’s ear once more, “To answer your question, it looks like you need me to make you feel good…”

Kento begins to rub slow, gentle circles over her clothed clit with his index and middle fingers, causing Rena’s mouth to fall agape with a quiet but deep inhale, then a slow exhale. She allows her eyelids to flutter shut.

“Will you let me do that for you, baby?” Kento breathes deliciously into Rena’s ear.

Rena only whimpers in reply, solely focusing on the perfect friction Kento was creating between her legs. She softly grunts in confusion when the motion suddenly stops, and opens her eyes to find Kento taking a good whiff of the fingers he’d used on her clit, “Mm… You smell good enough to taste, Rena… Tell me, baby, can I eat it?” Kento asks, already sinking to the floor of the SUV in front of Rena’s knees, holding her gaze all the while.

Rena looks down at Kento as he moves between her legs, nodding furiously at the other as she was already aroused beyond belief, “Yes.” She submissively moans out in a tone much softer and higher pitched than her normal voice.

“That’s my good girl.” Kento praises, massaging his hands around and behind Rena’s hips before quickly jerking them forward so that she sat on the edge of the seat.

Rena gasps in surprise to the sudden movement, watching as Kento pushes one of her legs up beside her chest with one hand, and hooks her other leg around his shoulder with his other hand. The tight fabric of Rena’s mini skirt rolls all the way up her thighs in this position, and Kento finally breaks eye contact – using his free hand to slip Rena’s panties to the side and admire her pussy.

Kento brushes his fingers in the wetness between Rena’s folds and uses it to slicken her clit. He begins to gently rub it in circles again, “You’re so damn perfect, Rena – always so wet for me.” He praises, glancing up to study the look on her face.

Rena looks down at Kento with a wildly turned-on expression and moans helplessly, mouth agape and panting heavily at the pleasure Kento was already beginning to give her.

Kento replaces his fingers with his mouth and begins to suck, lick, and slurp Rena’s pussy, and her head rolls back for a few seconds with a breathy moan, relishing in the pleasure the blond was giving her with his mouth. She focuses her eyes back on Kento once more, running a hand through his hair as she watches him eat her out.

“Mm, you taste delicious, baby,” Kento muses in between sucking each of her now swollen pussy lips, “so sweet.”

Rena shudders at the wet sounds of Kento sucking and slurping her up and pushes a strained groan from her lips – clasping her hand over her mouth after realizing how loud it is.

Kento chuckles as he licks her clit, and the vibrations make Rena’s hips jerk up a bit as she moans into her palm. Kento gazes up at her, heatedly, “Careful, Rena… You want Satoru to hear you, too?” After a while, he eventually stops teasing her and begins to offer practiced, upward licks to Rena’s clit. He made sure the strokes of his tongue were small and gentle, just the way she liked.

Rena removes her hand from her mouth at the sudden change of pace, “Fuck—yes, Kento…” she moans out, already able to tell that she was going to come quick if Kento keeps this up. Her fingers tug at his blond locks and she ever so slightly pushes his head even further between her legs.

Kento keeps this pace up for a while, until he hears and feels Rena’s breaths deepen and pick up in speed. His hand immediately finds hers and interlocks fingers with hers, beginning to flick his tongue a bit quicker over her clit. He looks up to meet Rena’s gaze with a knowing look when her hips slowly begin to lift from the seat of the car, offering herself even further to Kento’s mouth.

Rena moans shamelessly at her approaching climax and Kento coaxes her with a low hum, as if to say, ‘Yes, Rena… Come for me.’ Her breath hiccups in her throat before she does, and she moans out a high-pitched breath, body convulsing in waves as Kento continued to lick her through the high of her orgasm. But he doesn’t stop when she comes down from the initial high. He continues to prod and lick her overstimulated clit even faster, causing Rena to gasp and moan even louder. She pushes her leg out of his grasp and squeezes Kento’s head with her thighs, hand even attempting to push him back in protest.

“Ah—please, Kento, I can’t…!”

Kento squeezes her thighs with his hands, locking her in his grasp as he continues to devour her clit and send her to new highs.

Rena’s body continues to jerk even harder as Kento refuses to stop, and she cries out embarrassingly loud moans, one after the other, “Fuck, Kento, you’re gonna make me cum again!!” She couldn’t care less who heard her, at this point.

“Mhm…” Kento hummed out affirmatively, already knowing this of course. Rena could see his now red face and the exposed veins in his forehead as she continued to squeeze the life out of his head with her thighs, though Kento didn’t seem to mind – he only continued his assault on her clit.

Rena feels the strong surge of another climax approaching and reaches for Kento’s head, then stops herself, then reaches for Kento’s head again, then decides to clasp her hands over her mouth – sure she was about to release a moan so inhumanly loud she can’t even imagine. The wet sound of Kento’s tongue licking at her drenched pussy only drives her crazier.

Tears fall from the corners of Rena’s eyes as she almost screams into her hand when she comes for a second time, continuing to moan loudly and helplessly ride her orgasm out until Kento finally removes his mouth from between her legs with a deep breath. He retreats with one last kiss pressed to the inside of her thigh, revealing just how drenched his lips and chin were with her wetness.

Kento moves up to cup both of Rena’s cheeks in his hands and kisses her long and deep as his fingers begin to wipe her tears away. Rena could taste herself on his tongue and the sheer nastiness of the fact made her moan. He breaks the kiss for a moment, “You crying f’me, baby?” He pecks Rena’s lips sweetly, almost apologetically as he continues to wipe the last of her tears, “You’re so perfect, Rena, coming twice for me…” He rejoins her on the stretch of backseat, sitting right beside her and admiring the mess he’d made of her in just ten minutes.

Kento’s right hand goes suddenly goes to her throat and his left smooths over her clothed breast and slips between her legs once more, his middle and ring fingers immediately finding and sliding into her wet hole before abruptly fingering her at a quick and harsh pace. His lips are at her ear again, “…But I think you can give daddy one more, hm?”

Rena audibly gasps at the sudden stimulation, and Kento applies pressure to the sides of her neck with his hand, careful not to choke her too hard as she groaned out in a ridiculously loud and pathetic tone, “Kento, please… please, I can’t come again…!”

Kento abruptly stops his fingering, but presses his thumb to her swollen, abused clit, “Now that’s not the answer I was looking for…” It’s almost a crime how cool and collected his alluring tone is, compared to the mess that was her voice.

Rena’s hips jerk and she cries out, body already betraying her as her hands grasped Kento’s thick forearm. Everything inside her immediately misses the sensation of him fingering her; she wishes he would start again and pleads, “I’m sorry, daddy! I’m so sorry, I can come for you again – just please, don’t stop!”

“That’s right,” He nearly sings, beginning to move his fingers again, this time setting a pace that was even harsher, “you’re a slut for it, huh? A greedy slut who only cares about coming when you start to feel good, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m your slut!” Rena moans in a shaky tone, feeling drool begin to form at the corner of her mouth. Kento was absolutely driving her crazy, “Please let me cum!!!”

Kento simply laughs at her pathetic cry, more than satisfied with her shameless begging and the complete mess he’d made of both her mind and body. His mouth finds Rena’s ear once more and he breathes hotly into it, nibbling at her earlobe when he finally decides to reply, “I guess I’ll give you what you deserve…” At the last of his words, he begins to curl his fingers up towards her abdomen as he fingers her and pushes his hand up and down at an aggressive, rapid pace. Kento knew just how to reach Rena’s spot and in seconds she was a hot, moaning mess.

Her hands move from his arm to Kento’s face, and she pulls him in for a lazy, sloppy kiss as she orgasms for the third time tonight. A wave of tiredness immediately washed over her, but she reaches down to stroke her hand over the bulge in Kento’s suit pants.

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head after he breaks their kiss, “That’s for when we get home.” He releases his hold from Rena’s neck, admiring the smooth length of it. He brushes the back of his fingers over the soft skin there and then wipes the tears from her flushed cheeks once more, “You better rest while you can, baby.”

Kento pauses, then smirks, mind returning to their session that had just ended, “You brat,” He chuckles, “always resisting my commands…” Kento presses his forehead to hers in a more serious tone, “I control how many times you cum, got it?”

“You’re mean.” Rena pouts, beginning to regain her composure as she finally came down from her high.

Kento chuckles again, “I’m sorry, Rena,” He apologizes halfheartedly, offering her lips another short peck, “but that doesn’t answer my question, baby...”

Rena rolls her eyes and sighs, but with a small smile on her lips, “Yes, daddy, I got it.”

Kento sits back, continuing to admire the other as he clicks his tongue three times and brushes his fingers through a few of Rena’s curls, “That attitude just won’t do, but I’ll teach you a lesson, later.” Suddenly, he begins to move around her, fiddling with her seat and then the windows, “Here, lay back for now and get some sleep. I’ll crack the windows so you can have some fresh air.” Kento removes his suit jacket and tucks it around her shoulders. He finally stops when Rena lays back into her seat and asks her an honest question, “Need anything else?”

Rena only slips her hand from beneath Kento’s jacket to reveal her middle finger pushed in his direction.

Kento laughs, quickly kissing it then her cheek before turning to open the backseat door and return to the driver’s seat. But Rena’s hand catches his arm before he can do so.

“Thank you, Ken-chan.” She smiles warmly at him, more than satisfied.

“You’re very welcome, Rena-chan.” He meets her smile with a smirk, offering her a quick wink before exiting the car to return to the driver’s seat.

Rena allows her eyes to shut and falls into a deep slumber almost immediately. It was obvious she was far more tired than she’d let on.

*

Satoru doesn’t return for another 30 minutes or so, but Kento doesn’t mind. He simply rests his eyes for a minute with his hands tucked behind his head until he hears footsteps and the thump of the front passenger door open.

“Ya-ho, Nanamin!” Gojo grins brightly at Kento as he quickly eases into the car.

“How did it go?” Kento asks, dropping his hands back down before holding a button beside the gear shift so that the car started.

“As well as things could.” Satoru mused, “The higher-ups still want a few students to help with the efforts overseas, but I’ll be the real judge of that. Plus, we already have a lot on our hands in Tokyo, so…” Gojo is interrupted when Kento presses his index finger to his lips and points his thumb towards the backseat of the SUV.

Gojo glances back, quirking a brow in a bit of surprise as he saw Rena fast asleep, “Ah. We can talk later.” He pauses, glancing between Rena and Kento before smirking, “You gave her your jacket?” Satoru speaks in a quieter yet amused voice.

Kento smirks, “Well, it was me who put her to sleep, so I figured I’d be nice.” Kento begins to back out of the lot.

“Nanamin…!” Satoru says just above a whisper, eyes widening with intrigue, “Sounds like you were busy while I was away.” Satoru can’t help but chuckle, which elicits a soft but annoyed grumble from Rena who stirs in her sleep.

He turns back to look at her, whispering his apologies, “Sorry, Rena-chan!” Gojo glances back at Kento, “But it’s not fair, though, Nanamin. You’re so mean to us all except for Rena-chan!”

Kento smirks as he turns onto the main road, picking up the speed smoothly so he would not disturb Rena’s nap. He huffs out a short laugh, “She’d probably tell you the opposite.”

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 6: Not the Romance Type

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 chapter word count: 7k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

When Riku wakes up she’s alone in the bed and the sun pours in through the stretch of floor length windows opposite to it. She sits up and stretches, looking around to search for any trace of Geto or Gojo; but she only finds the room to be completely still. It has to be past 9 or so… Maybe they had some business to attend to early? Riku thinks. She rubs her eyes a bit, quickly turning her head towards the door when she suddenly notices it being pushed open.

One of the twins from yesterday appears, still in a suit, and with two of Riku’s big, pastel green suitcases from home, seemingly agonizing over pulling the heavy weight of them into the room, “Oh, hi! Sorry, let me help you with those!” Riku scrambles out of the bed, ignoring the sore muscles that protest in her body when she helps the girl move the suitcases. Riku takes a deep breath once the two of them finish moving the suitcases up against the wall next to the door of Geto’s extensive, walk in closet, “Thank you for getting these. You’re Nanako, right?”

Nanako narrows her eyes at Riku, looking her up and down with judgement as Riku doesn’t have on anything but Geto’s shirt, “Yes.” Nanako finally answers, still eyeing Riku suspiciously, “Are you sleeping with Mr. Geto for money?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Riku’s mouth falls agape to Nanako’s question, unable to suppress the short laugh that exits it to the girl’s unexpected question, “Um, no. I have enough money.” Riku says, a bit disappointedly to the other’s judgement of her. Riku hates playing this sort of catty game with women in the yakuza syndicate; so she drops her nice act, resolving to turn away from Nanako and squat to her knees before opening one of her suitcases.

“Then why are you here when you have your own clan? Why won’t anybody say anything to me?”

Riku finds and grabs an ivory-colored loungewear set and a pair of underwear from her suitcase, pulling them out before zipping it back up, “That’s a… complicated story,” Riku turns to look back at Nanako with the last of her words, “and if Suguru hasn’t bothered to tell you why, then maybe he doesn’t trust you with that information.” Riku rises, already heading towards the bathroom so she can shower.

Nanako balls her hands into fists at her sides, starting to brew with anger, “You bitch…! You don’t know me! Mr. Geto trusts me!”

Riku sighs, pausing at the door to the bathroom to offer Nanako her last words before she enters, “Or, more likely, maybe he just wants to protect you. Ever stopped to think he doesn’t want to get you involved for that reason?” Riku doesn’t wait for Nanako’s answer and enters the bathroom before closing the door behind her.

Everyone was always hiding information from each other—that was the very nature of the yakuza syndicate. Riku knew how Nanako felt; it was a feeling of confusion and anxiety she’d experienced all throughout her life. She, like countless other women in the the syndicate, always had to find the answers for herself.

After her shower, Riku makes her way towards the kitchen, where a woman in a chef’s uniform and apron is wiping a few dishes dry with a rag. She turns when she sees Riku approach and smiles, “Good morning, Ms. Ozaki!”

So, there are Geto clan staff that don’t immediately hate her. Riku smiles back with relief, “Good morning! Do you happen to know where Suguru and Satoru are?”

“Mr. Geto is out with Mr. Gojo at the moment, but they should be back soon. Would you like to eat breakfast in the meantime? Mr. Geto said that you would be hungry, so I’ve prepared something.”

Riku feels her face heat up to the woman’s words, undeniably a bit ravenous from all the energy she’d expended yesterday—from work to… other activities, “That sounds great, yes—thank you!”

“Of course! Feel free to have a seat in the dining room and I’ll bring it to you. Anything to drink?”

“Hm… just a glass of water is fine.”

“Coming right up!”

Riku turns to stride over towards the dining room and takes a seat at the long table, briefly looking around and taking in the rock-integrated walls and décor that she hadn’t seen much of last night due to it being so dark. She can tell the vast room is obviously inspired by the mountain that Geto’s property sits on.

The chef is close behind with a tray and sets it down on the table in front of Riku before removing its metal cover. Steam and the delicious smell of syrup wafts up into the air and hits Riku’s nose, and her eyes widen to the beautifully dressed plate of three tall soufflé pancakes, two sunny side up eggs, and a thick bacon cut portion of pan-fried pork belly.

“This looks delicious!” Riku says, excited to dig in.

The woman steps back with a smile, “Enjoy, and I’ll bring you your water.”

“Thank you!” Riku picks up her utensils as the chef returns to the kitchen, happily cutting into one of the syrupy pancakes before popping a big slice of it into her mouth. She hums delightfully as she chews, of course it’s delicious.

Just then she’s distracted by the noise and sight of Gojo and Geto entering the room, both donned in black workout clothes and seemingly drenched with sweat.

“Good morning, Ri.” Geto speaks up first, hands on his sides as he approaches the dining table.

Riku slices a piece of pork belly and takes a bite, “Morning!”

Gojo is right by Geto’s side and pulls the lining of his muscle shirt up to his face to wipe his forehead of sweat, exposing his insanely toned abdomen in the process. He drops his shirt back down, “Morning, Ricchan!” He grins, smiling ear to ear.

“You two worked out?” Riku questions in between chews.

“We had some business to handle first, then went for a run.” Geto clarifies, “Enjoying breakfast?”

“Business…” Riku repeats the word, mostly to herself. She can’t deny she’s a little tired of the secrets, or, more so the two men withholding information from her. But she decides not to dig into it for now, “and yeah, I’m definitely stealing your chef.” She says with a small smile, taking another bite of her pancakes.

Gojo stands over Riku, bending close to the table, “Mm… that does look really good. Let me have a bite.”

Riku playfully glares at Gojo, pulling her plate on the table so that it’s further away from him and closer to her, “Get your own!”

“C’mon, Ri. Just one bite?” Gojo begs, bending over even further from behind Riku’s seat in the chair to rest his warm chin on her shoulder.

“One bite…” she emphasizes, cutting another slice of a giant, fluffy pancake before raising it with her fork and poking it in front of Gojo’s mouth.

Gojo instead steals the entire, much larger remaining part of the pancake from Riku’s plate, standing upright to scarf down the whole thing in a few bites with a childish chuckle, “Mmf… That is delicious!”

Riku’s jaw drops in horror, looking between her plate that is now empty of pancakes and the child of a man that continues to grin over her, “Hey…! What the hell, Satoru?! Couldn’t you have just gotten your own??”

He lifts his shirt and reveals his eight-pack again, slapping his hand over it, “Nah, gotta maintain my boyish figure, babe. Just wanted a little bite.”

Riku grumbles as she cuts into her eggs, “Some fucking bite…”

The chef returns with a circular tray that has Riku’s water, and two green smoothies that Gojo and Geto retrieve from her before she reaches the table and gives Riku her drink. She heads back to the kitchen.

As Gojo nearly downs his entire smoothie, Geto bends over a bit to inspect Riku’s cheek. He uses his free hand to tuck her shower-damp curls behind her ear, the backs of his fingers lightly brushing over the now smooth side of her face that only has a few faint spots of purple, “Your cheek is looking good… You got some good sleep, huh?” He takes a small sip of his drink, grin just barely playing at the corners of his mouth.

Gojo laughs lowly, “Yeah, we even came back after handling business to see if you wanted to run with us, but you were knocked out.”

Riku blushes, resolving to occupy herself with taking a sip of water.

Still bent at the waist and close beside her, Geto presses his lips near Riku’s ear and speaks just above a whisper, “Feeling okay, beautiful? Were we too rough with you?”

She nearly chokes on her water, but quickly clears her throat and sets her glass down, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“That you are.” Geto stands back up and takes a long swig of his smoothie, grinning to Riku’s reaction.

“Boo… get a better pickup line.” Riku retorts with an eye roll, then takes another bite of her food.

“But you’re sore, right?” Gojo asks plainly, hardly any tact as he sits down in the seat beside Riku’s. He rests his glass on the table and swiftly rubs his hand up her thigh, eyes carefully watching how she would respond to his touch.

Riku can feel his fingers through the thin fabric and sits up when Gojo leans in close to her face with cool blue eyes. She gulps when his hand rubs all the way up the inside of her leg to rest on her crotch; she takes a slow, steadying breath before responding, “Yes.” She admits near quietly, eyes darting over to the chef who had just barely left the room, then back to Gojo.

“Good.” Gojo pulls Riku in with his hand at the back of her head for a heated, lewd kiss, then breaks it just as quick with a gentle tug at the roots of her hair—a familiar heat in his gaze, “Hope you think about how good I fucked you every time you take a step today.” He murmurs, long fingers flirting with the fabric between Riku’s legs.

Riku slaps Gojo’s hand away and refocuses on her pork belly, shaking her head a bit, “You two are… insatiable hornballs.”

Both Gojo and Geto chuckle in unison to this, Geto finally walking around the table to lower onto the seat across from Riku, “That’s funny coming from you, Ri. You’re pretty nasty, yourself, you know.”

She gasps, then narrows her eyes at Geto, who simply smirks and crosses his arms over his chest, “Shut up, shit-bangs—I am not!”

“Mhm. Throwing insults ‘cause you can’t fight the truth, hm?” Geto laughs lightly.

The trio suddenly pauses and turns towards a new person entering the room in a hurry. The man wears a black suit similar to Nanako’s uniform from earlier, but storms in with an exasperated, terror-ridden expression on his face. Riku recalls him from yesterday—he was the man who’d escorted her from the drug manufacturing warehouse beneath Geto’s property. Kei? The mood in the room instantly shifts due to the urgency his demeanor.

“Mr. Geto…!” Kei raises a white letter in his hand as he hastily strides over to the table.

“This for me?” Geto quirks a brow in question.

“No… it’s for her.” Kei says, eyes moving to Riku in a bit of horror.

Kei approaches Riku and passes the letter to her, which she receives with a slightly shaky hand—a little frightened by the man’s demeanor. She reads the envelope and the messily written words in black ink on its cover: ‘TO: RIKU,’ and ‘FROM: TOJI.’

She shudders, breath exiting her body and taking any of her warmth with it. Her face freezes as she holds the envelope in front of her eyes, “It’s… it’s from Toji.” She says, and Gojo leans in to look at the letter, not fearful but equally confused as Riku.

“Toji?! Who the hell did you get this letter from, Kei?!” Geto rises from his chair, tone demanding.

“I found it! I-I swear, sir! On my life.” He confesses, hands raised in surrender, “It was left right outside of the onsen’s entrance.”

“By who?!” Geto asks, clearly trying to restrain his anger.

“We don’t know because the cameras were wiped clean, but we’re scrubbing the whole property and questioning onsen staff and attendees as we speak.”

Geto presses the pads of his fingers to his temples, visibly enraged. He somehow keeps his tone calm regardless, “You’re telling me… both the main and backup cameras were wiped? Whoever is responsible for neglecting or outright betraying their security post is getting fucking killed by me personally, do you understand me??” He spits with a hellish look in his eyes, dropping his hands to his sides to ball them into fists.

Kei drops to his knees with a fearful, pained look in his eyes, shriveling down into a dogeza bow to express his deepest apologies, “Yes, sir! I’m so sorry!”

“If you’re sorry, then get to fucking work. And please know I’ll be joining you to find the culprit soon.” Geto says darkly and Kei quickly rises and departs, not even a hint of Geto’s usual calm, cool, and collected demeanor in his expression.

And Riku would’ve been frightened by Geto’s anger if she wasn’t holding Toji’s letter in front of her face. Hesitantly, she shakes the envelope to make sure there isn’t anything in it. Nothing. Hands gently fidgeting, Riku tears open its paper with her fingers. Both Gojo and Geto look to her as she stares at the heart shaped, Valentine-themed card and flips it open to read its contents.

“Hey pretty,

Did you know that dancing is quite similar to fighting? We have a lot in common, Riku. Let’s have our first date where our worlds collide.

See you there.

-Toji”

After she finishes, Gojo swipes the card from Riku’s hands to read it himself, carefully inspecting the letter with his eyes, “Now the asshole is sending messages? What the fuck does that mean?”

Geto sits back down at the table, visibly annoyed by this entire situation, “I don’t know… ‘where our worlds collide,’ fighting and dancing, Ri—does any of this make sense to you?”

“N-no…” Riku stutters out, fear beginning to overcome her body. Toji is looking for me?! She takes a shaky, deep breath, trying to calm herself, “I mean, both fighting and dancing require focus, precision, strength, and balance…”

“So, in short, we need to keep her away from any place that involves any of those things.” Gojo concludes, tossing the flimsy card across the table so Geto can take a look at it.

Geto picks it up, quickly eyeing its contents, “That’s probably the best bet.” He glances up from the card to meet Riku’s gaze, “So that means no working at the dance studio for you today, or for a while, for that matter.”

Riku opens her mouth, about to protest, but decides against it after seeing the unmoving, cold and hard look in Geto’s eyes, “Okay.” It’s not like she wants to get taken or abducted by Toji, either.

“I’ll call Nanami to let him know.” Gojo announces, pulling out his phone. He pauses to stare into space for a fraction of a second until he thinks of something, suddenly snapping his eyes back to Riku, “Babe, you ever been to Onjuku beach?”

“Um, yeah; used to go all the time when I was a teenager,” Riku recalls—its only an hour and a half drive outside of Tokyo, if she remembers correctly, “why do you ask?”

“While Suguru addresses the situation here, you’ll come with me to the beach for a few hours. That way I can do some club business and we can get you out of Tokyo for a while.”

Riku nods a few times, sort of curious to what ‘club business’ means, but her body is too busy shaking with anxiety. She wants to focus on her appreciation for how quickly Gojo and Geto had adjusted to her evolving predicament with Toji, but all she can think about is the fact that she’s being hunted. She stares down at her plate tight-lipped with her eyebrows knit together, no longer hungry.

Gojo breaks Riku’s train of thought when he leans close to her and turns her chin so that she looks up at him, “Hey. I’ll take you somewhere nice while we’re out, so don’t get so nervous, Ricchan.” He slowly presses a peck to her lips, distracting her from her own thoughts, “And didn’t you know? I’m the strongest, babe—you’re safe with me.” He flashes her a cocky smile.

*

Riku emerges from the guest bedroom in a white bikini and a backless beach coverup dress, making her way to the main living room in Geto’s property where Gojo waits for her. She finds him typing something into his phone when she approaches, the man now fitted in a deep mustard-colored linen shirt and white shorts with identical, tan palm tree designs all over it. His black sun spectacles sit low on his nose.

He looks up, “Mm… you look hot.” He stands to his feet and closes most of the space between them. Riku allows her eyes to flutter shut, expecting the man to kiss her lips. He presses his lips to her neck instead, hand slipping around her waist and down her back to squeeze her lightly clothed ass.

Riku hums to Gojo’s touch, wondering why the man has been so clingy today. Was it just the sex? Or is this just how he really is? “Did Suguru leave already?” She asks.

Gojo stands up tall after he kisses Riku, hand remaining on her ass, “Yeah, he just left. No word on the security camera-hacking, Toji letter-delivering culprit, yet.” He lifts a brow curiously, “Why? You miss him or something?”

“No! Just curious, ‘s all.”

Gojo’s hand moves up to the exposed skin at the small of Riku’s back, “You better not, ‘cause you’re all mine today.” He smirks.

Riku responds confidently, “Actually, I belong to myself—just spending the day with you. Wait, ew, are you the possessive type?”

“It’s not possessive if it’s the truth, babe…” Gojo trails off with a grin and abruptly tugs Riku close, rubbing both his hands up her waist just the way she likes.

Riku’s cheeks redden to this, body easily giving in to Gojo’s touch. She feels her skin warm up and is especially sensitive when he kneads her breasts through the thin fabric of her bikini and coverup dress, “Hah…” Riku pants out softly as she feels her abdomen fill with heat.

Gojo moves close to her ear when he lowly coos his next words, “Why wouldn’t this body be mine? It does exactly what I tell it to.” One of his hands tread temptingly low beneath her stomach and towards the lining of her bikini, “And you’re already getting wet, aren’t you?

Riku lightly pushes Gojo away, cheeks still tinged bright red, “Are we going to the beach or what?”

Gojo chuckles, honestly amused by Riku, “Yeah, Ricchan. Let’s head to the garage.” He retrieves her hand, interlocking their fingers together before leading her along down the hallway. The two of them eventually reach an elevator, to which Gojo punches the call button with his free hand.

“So, what’s on the Onjuku beach business agenda for today?” Riku asks, easing her hand out of the other’s hold as they wait for the elevator.

“That’s a surprise, for now…” Gojo basically sings the words, “but it’s all club business, if that gives you any hint.” The elevator chimes and its doors open; the two of them step in and Gojo hits the ‘G2’ button.

“What’s this club business that you keep mentioning?”

Gojo pauses for a moment, brows furrowed together as he looks over at Riku. His eyes then widen with genuine surprise, realizing Riku was not joking with her words, “Oh, babe,” he grins in a way that shows that he nearly feels bad for her, “you don’t know what kind of business my clan runs, do you?” He laughs a little and pats the top of her head, “Then again, that’s probably for the best with how troublesome you are.” His smile fades a bit, and his eyes lock on to Riku’s, a sort of apologetic look in his eyes as he brushes back a loose strand of her hair with his fingers, “Hm. Your family and Nanamin have been protecting you from a world that you don’t even know about…”

Riku is confused, “A world I don’t know…? What are you talking about?” The elevator doors chime open when they reach the garage floor, and Riku follows Gojo along to a navy blue, convertible 1970 Ferrari Daytona Spyder.

Gojo opens the passenger door for Riku, holding her hand as she steps down into the low sportscar, “First, tell me what you think you know about my clan.” He closes the door behind her once she’s in and maneuvers around the car before slipping into the front seat and turning his key in the old model car’s ignition. The engine roars to life and Gojo is quick to pull out of the parking lot, wheels screeching on the pavement as they pass the front gates, and the mountains surrounding Geto’s property come into view.

Riku is a bit alarmed to Gojo’s speed on the road, but tries to keep her cool, “Um, well, I mean you’re the strongest because you’re good at fighting, do you come from a strong line of fighters in your family or something?”

Gojo shakes his head, “I mean, yes, but not exactly, babe,” he briefly glances over at Riku, turning the wheel a bit sharply to one of the road’s curves, “Any other guesses?”

“Hm… Is it a fighting ring?”

“Bingo.” Gojo frees a hand from the wheel to cock his index finger in Riku’s direction like a gun, “But, there’s a little more to it than that. My clan’s business may consist of an underground MMA ring, but the real money maker is the gambling that happens at my fight clubs around Tokyo.”

Riku slowly nods to herself then freezes, “Wait, then why would my family and Kento hide this from me? No offense, but it all seems pretty normal and makes perfect sense.” She looks over at the white haired man who carelessly smiles as he speeds over the empty backroads in the mountains.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ricchan—my fight clubs are anything but normal. This is where clans gamble their families’ lives and all their money, and where sick yakuza fucks come to indulge in all the evil shit they can’t do in the daylight.”

“Oh, so they’re that type of club.” Riku rests her head back on the tan leather headrest, expression suddenly twisting with curiosity, “Wait, so Ken has been to your fight club? Why?”

“Yeah, quite a few times, actually, before he started working for your family. It’s an easy way for bodyguards like him to get quick money. There’s bars and poker tables as well, so you don’t necessarily need to be a fighter to get in—he’s really good at the game, too.”

Riku furrows her brows, unsure of how to take this information. She can’t help but wonder why she’d been kept in the dark so long regarding the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate’s strongest business… Even if her family wouldn’t allow her to visit any of Gojo’s fight clubs, what is the point of keeping this a secret from her and so many others? Is the underground fighting and gambling business that dark? Riku stares out at the road before them, “I can’t believe I didn’t know…”

Gojo reaches over to cup Riku’s cheek, “Don’t sweat it, Ricchan, just means you got people looking out for you. It’s a good thing, really. A pretty girl like you doesn’t belong in a nasty place like that.”

“I can hold my own!”

Laughing in unabashed disbelief, Gojo allows his hand to fall from Riku’s check and back to his lap, “Is that right?”

“Yeah, I’m a pretty good shot, you know.” Riku notes, pointing her index in the air matter-of-factly.

“Really?” Gojo raises his brows, “Who taught you to shoot?”

Riku takes a moment to respond, as she kind of hates how much the man’s name keeps coming up in conversation, “…Kento.”

“Nanamin? You might actually be a decent shooter, then.” Gojo turns to look at Riku with a teasing grin, “You two are pretty close, hm?”

Riku releases an exasperated sigh, “Ugh, please stop with that. We’re just friends.” She crosses her arms over her chest, already tired of this new direction in their conversation—especially as she’d just talked about the same with Geto yesterday.

“But he wants to be more.” Gojo focuses back on the road.

Riku is quiet for a few seconds, then completely shifts the subject, “So if this fight club of yours is so dangerous of a place that people have been hiding it from me and don’t want me to go, then where are we going now?”

Gojo laughs heartily, glancing at Riku once more, “You really hate talking about personal stuff, don’t you?” His laugh fades into a chuckle and he reaches over to lightly rub his hand over the exposed skin of her thigh that’s made visible by the cut in her coverup dress, “Guess I’ll just have to get you open up then.” Gojo turns his attention back to the road, the ocean beginning to come into view off to the side of the mountains, “Fight club business isn’t limited to inside of the fight club, babe. I have to check in with every part of my clan and team that makes this shit possible. So, we’re meeting with our food and beverage director Iwai to do a tasting of some new drinks and dishes he’s bringing into the club, and then we’re dropping by the gym to check out a few of this week’s fighters and so I can do some admin work. It’s miniscule, but it’s shit I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Toji really threw a wrench in all of our work plans, huh?”

“You can say that again.” Gojo sighs, raking a hand through his white hair; he looks over at Riku, “You’ve been taking things well, though, considering.”

“Well, not exactly my first time getting caught up in a less-than-ideal situation… Just a little scarier when the biggest yakuza asshole in Tokyo is chasing you around the city.” Riku looks out the window, watching as they speed past signs with the word ‘CHIBA’ plastered over them. They were finally out of Tokyo, and amidst the vast nature of the mountains they drove through, Riku spots a small town in the near countryside. They already begin to pass a few quaint shops.

Gojo looks in the distance, eyes still focused on the road, “Don’t worry, Ricchan. I’ll get him—for both of us,” Riku’s eyes move to Gojo’s tight grip on the steering wheel, not missing how his knuckles turn white as he speaks. He clears his throat and immediately turns his tone brighter, “but we can’t let Toji ruin our beach date today—our first stop is already coming up…!”

“Really? Close to here?” Riku looks around, still only primarily seeing a shop here and there every couple of hundred meters in the mountains around them.

“Mhm.” Gojo says with a smirk and reduces speed before he turns the car onto a narrower road. In less than a minute of driving down the path, the trees open up and clear into a beautiful clifftop view—at least 50 meters above the beach and ocean below. There’s a lot right on the edge of the cliff, and a small, wooden café that sits just before it. The entire plot of mountaintop is kissed by the late morning sunlight, and Riku can’t help but think it’s a picture-perfect sight. There’s only a few cars littered around the lot, so the shop isn’t too busy, either.

Riku blinks a few times, and her mouth falls agape, “Oh my god, this view is… beyond amazing! How the hell did you find this place?” She turns to Gojo with an honest, delighted smile.

Gojo pulls into the lot, then presses his index to his lips and winks at Riku from behind his sunglasses, “It’s a secret.” Gojo parks the car in a space that’s perfectly situated before the ocean view and steps out to open Riku’s door for her, “Kidding, just have a good eye for finding places like this.” He holds his hand out to her.

Riku takes it as she steps out of the car and makes a noise of surprise when Gojo suddenly tugs her into his side. He keeps Riku locked there with his toned arm around her waist as they approach the small ‘TO-GO’ labeled window at the front of the café. The two stop a meter back from the window and Riku’s eyes dart over to the menu that’s beside it, a pair of girls off to the side of them snapping pictures of the ocean view as they wait for their drink order.

“What do you want, Ricchan?”

“Ohh I get to choose what I want today? Lucky me!” Riku cheers dramatically, clearly poking fun at Gojo and his need to control everything.

Gojo sighs, “And here I was thinking you’d turned over a new leaf. Nope, still a brat, even after last night,” he pulls Riku from his side to directly in front of him so that her back presses flush against his front and bends his head down to whisper into her ear, “you’re gonna pay for that later, beautiful.”

Riku’s cheeks redden to Gojo’s whispered words and something jolts excitedly in her at the sound of them. She resolves to bite her tongue inside of her mouth, keeping her eyes locked on the café menu as Gojo walks them up in front of it.

“Now, do you know what you want?” Gojo asks, the tall man easily stretching his neck up to rest his chin on the top of Riku’s head.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Hey there!” Gojo calls out to the woman just behind the window, and Riku can hear the smile in his voice.

The woman, wearing a pink apron, slides open the service window with a smile, “Hi! Can I help you two?”

“Yes, can I get a medium strawberry cheesecake frap and…” Gojo adjusts his arms around Riku, wrapping and gently squeezing them around her stomach.

Riku blushes to the intimacy of Gojo’s movements, not really used to nor a big fan of PDA, “Um, can I please have a small cold brew with a dash of sweet cream? Thank you!”

The woman nods, “Sure thing! Any donuts for you all?”

“Oh shit, right, the homemade donuts here are amazing, Ri. Let’s get one glazed and one cinnamon sugar.”

“One glazed and one cinnamon, coming right up! That’s…” The woman taps at a tablet behind the window, “1,400 yen.”

Gojo releases Riku from his grasp to pull out his wallet, tugging out and offering the woman a 10,000 yen bill, “Keep the change.”

The woman takes the bill with widened eyes, “Wow… thank you so much! Your order will be out in a few minutes!” She beams.

“Thanks.” Gojo turns to Riku, “I’m gonna use the bathroom inside. Grab our drinks and donuts for us, Ricchan—yeah?” He winks at her, already beginning to stride to the store entrance.

Riku turns once Gojo is inside the store, taking a deep breath as she looked over the cliff’s steep drop, the surrounding mountains, and the vast ocean below. She smells the salt water in the air, and appreciates the steady, rhythmic sound of the waves crashing into the shore. The sun feels warm on her skin, and she allows her eyes to shut at the sensation until she hears someone speak beside her.

“Excuse me, miss? Your boyfriend is so cute!”

Riku opens her eyes once more and turns to the girls waiting on their drinks, both wearing matching pink t-shirts and jean shorts over their bathing suits. Riku laughs a bit shyly, “Oh, he’s not my bo—”

“Yeah, you two look so good together!” The other girl interrupts Riku before she can finish her sentence.

“…Thanks.” Riku sighs the word out, curving one side of her mouth up into a half-smile. What’s the use of explaining anyways? With how clingy Gojo had been, of course they looked like they were together.

Both the two girls’ and Riku and Gojo’s orders come out at once, and Riku waves them off as they retreat back to their truck with their drinks. Riku bends at the waist to reach over the counter, beginning to pick up the tray with her and Gojo’s drinks in them with one hand, and the small bag of donuts in her other hand when a new person speaks up from behind her, “Hey, sexy. Really liked it better when you were bent over.”

Riku spins around on her heels, a mortified look on her face. Her jaw drops to the dark-haired, skinny man’s words, rendered speechless by his audacity. She thinks he’s no more than an inch or a few centimeters taller than Riku—who is around 168 cm or 5’6”.

“Can I get your number?” He grins disgustingly, beginning to step closer until a hand wraps around and grasps the curve of Riku’s hip.

“She’s taken, shitstain.” Gojo spits the words from Riku’s side, his tone venomous; he precipitously lets her go to grab the shorter man by his shirt and tower over him, “So say another word to her and I’ll snap your motherfucking neck.”

“Satoru, don’t!” Riku protests.

“S-s-sorry, man! I didn’t know!” The man apologizes in a shaky voice, immediately stumbling and scurrying back to his car when Gojo grudgingly lets him go.

Gojo shakes his head to himself, a pissed expression on his face as he stands back upright, “You okay, Ri?”

“Yeah, fine.” Riku shakes her head as well, but mostly to erase the thought of the strange man’s disgusting words from her mind. She holds the drink tray out in front of Gojo, “Shit like that happens to girls all the time, unfortunately. But that doesn’t mean you should snap anybody’s neck!”

Satoru ignored the last of Riku’s words and picks up his strawberry cheesecake frap before taking a long sip, slightly relaxing at the taste of it, “Mm, that’s sweet. But, not as sweet as this…” He lowers himself just enough to press his lips to Riku’s, quickly deepening their kiss into a more passionate one.

Gojo holds the back of Riku’s head, tongue skillfully exploring her mouth; and Riku can taste the flavor of strawberries and fresh whipped cream from his kiss. Riku blushes harder when she feels eyes on them and is the one to break their kiss, “That was corny.” She giggles.

“But it made you laugh.” Gojo lifts his pointer from his cup to poke in Riku’s direction, a smile on his face.

“Fair enough.” Riku mirrors Gojo’s smile.

Back at the car, Gojo and Riku sip on their drinks from inside the car, its convertible top now retracted so the sun spills down on them.

“My god, this view is everything... I have to admit, Satoru, this was a great idea.” Riku smiles, still taking in the view. Her eyes follow the small dot of a surfer gliding over the waves down below at the shore, and a cool breeze sweeps by them, the mix of the scent of seawater and the citrus notes of Gojo’s cologne pleasantly hitting her nose. She glances over to Gojo in the driver’s seat with his drink, “Let me taste yours.” Riku asks, putting her iced cold brew down into one of the cup holders in the center of the console.

Gojo hums an affirmative grunt, busy taking a huge bite from his cinnamon sugar donut when he pokes the straw of his frap in Riku’s direction.

Riku makes a little show of it, locking eyes with Gojo as she pokes her tongue out, lowers her mouth down on, and wraps her lips around the length of the straw. She takes a sip, then slowly pulls her lips off the straw.

Gojo ceases in his chewing to this and gulps, eyes widening just slightly to Riku’s casually lewd actions and the corners of his mouth rising into a grin, “You little freak…” he trails off, the tone of his voice low, husky, and dripping with excitement, “you’re gonna drive me crazy.” Gojo looks at Riku with unabashed interest, dropping the remaining piece of his donut back into its paper bag before rubbing his cinnamon sugar-covered thumb over her plump lips. He chuckles when Riku takes the digit into her mouth, sitting up in his seat and biting his lip when she shamelessly sucks the sweetness from his thumb, “Ricchan, you’re so good when you want to be.”

Riku releases Gojo’s finger from her lips with a light laugh, tucking a few curls behind her ear, “You have a pretty big sweet tooth, don’t you?”

“Mhm, especially if those lips of yours are included in that.” Gojo smirks, pushing his black sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his wrist when the sun shines brighter.

“Anything else I should know about your tastes?” Riku asks; they were going on a tasting later, after all.

“Hm, well I generally like everything sweet, I hate black olives, and I don’t like to drink.”

“You don’t drink?” The last bit is surprising to Riku, as pretty much all the yakuza she knows drinks.

“Not often, which is part of the reason why it’s useful for me to bring a spoiled-rotten yakuza princess like you along to a food and rice wine tasting.” He lightly boops her nose with his index, “You like sake, right?”

“Love it. My uncle’s quite the afficionado, too, so I learned a lot from him.”

“See? Figures.” Gojo says before taking another sip of his frap, voice snarky.

“What figures?” Riku challenges, just barely narrowing her eyes at Gojo.

“Rich yakuza girls are all the same. All you all like to do is drink wine and iced coffee, eat expensive seafood and steak, shop designer clothes and streetwear, and go to pilates with your friends.”

Riku rolls her eyes, “That what you and Suguru like to tell yourselves?? First of all, I don’t do pilates; and second of all, at least I’m not a big, beefy yakuza guy that barely fits in a suit and has the taste palate of a literal fucking toddler!”

Gojo laughs, “Notice how you only refuted one of those things, though?”

“Shut the fuck up, Satoru!” Riku can’t help but laugh the words out and playfully jabs at Gojo.

He laughs along, easily catching each of Riku’s attempted punches with one of his hands before they reach his torso. He holds his frap up with his other, continuing to sip on it, “But, you do have the guts to talk back to, spit on, and kick a high rank yakuza in the nuts—and that takes a lot of balls, so I’ll give you that. Can’t say I’ve ever met a yakuza princess, let alone woman like you in that respect.”

“You and this ‘princess’ thing…” Riku sighs as she takes a long sip of her cold brew, then puts it down, “you’re not gonna let it go, huh?”

“Not ‘til you open up to me, babe!” Gojo declares, nearing the end of his frap as his sips turn into loud slurps of mostly air from his straw.

“Ugh.”

“What, you don’t trust me, Ricchan? You know I’ve been keeping you safe these past few days…”

Riku turns away from Gojo, looking out at the ocean view again, “That’s different. Talking about my family’s past or my personal life isn’t entertaining to anybody—especially not me.”

“May not be entertaining, but it is more than worth hearing if it means getting to know you, Riku.” Gojo says smoothly, expression completely serious. He takes his sunglasses off, this time leaning close to softly kiss her cheek.

The uncharacteristically gentle and comforting nature of Gojo’s kiss catches Riku by surprise, and it makes something swell in her chest. It’s a feeling she isn’t used to experiencing and honestly makes her a bit uncomfortable as she’s taught herself to avoid it.

Gojo puts his cup down, taking Riku’s face in both of his hands to kiss her lips the same way, but pauses, backing up just enough to read Riku’s visage with furrowed brows, “Did I do something wrong? You’re shaking, Ri.” His hands smooth down to gently grasp her shoulders.

Riku steadies herself with a deep breath, in and out, “No, you didn’t. I just…” she trails off, never finishing her sentence, “sorry.” Riku shrugs out of Gojo’s grasp, folding her arms across her chest and closing herself up.

Gojo smiles apologetically, “Don’t apologize, Ricchan. I’ve been kissing and touching you a lot today, haven’t I? Is it too much?”

Riku nods, “Yeah…” She herself can’t tell if it’s the amount of his affection or the shift in kind of his affection that’s caused her to tremble.

Gojo remains close to Riku, his face still only a few centimeters away from her, “I’ll take it easy on you; but, to compromise, can you hold my hand at least? Can you do that for me, Ri?” He offers his hand in the small space between them. Gojo’s piercing, cerulean eyes study Riku’s every move and expression. Why does he need to constantly touch her so badly, anyways?

Riku nods mutely, placing her hand in Gojo’s and allowing him to interlock their fingers. Though there’s undeniably a part of her that wants to absorb each and every aspect of Gojo’s touch, as it feels so good, another part of her holds her back. His touch is addictive; and she doesn’t want to emotionally rely on anyone – neither Gojo nor Geto – because that means relinquishing her power to either or both of the men. Riku begins to think that this is where Gojo’s and Geto’s real power lies—not merely in their physical strength or the high performance of their underground businesses, but more so in their ability to lead and influence hundreds of others to do what they want. If they’re masters of controlling dangerous people, then what does that mean for Riku?

“I promise I won’t hurt you, Ricchan.”

Riku isn’t sure if she believes the words, and realizes that after a few short days, she’s already gotten herself tangled up with this man. Even at this point, she can’t imagine how difficult it would be to unravel it from him, if she wants to.

chapter endnotes: next chapter will drop a week from today!

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 5: Let's Make a Deal

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 chapter word count: 8k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Riku sighs over her bowl of fresh sashimi and rice, closing her eyes for a moment to appreciate the perfect balance of flavors and hint of sweet ponzu sauce Geto had lightly dressed the kaisendon with. It was a simple dish to prepare ingredient-wise, but the true skill came in how one cut and arranged the sashimi – which Geto had surprisingly done quite artistically. It really was a perfect dish; but Riku sighs again, still upset about being deprived. She takes a sip of the suavingnon blanc the three of them had decided to pair with it, the dry notes complimenting the sweet notes of the dish.

Gojo laughs with his mouth closed as he works on his finishing his bowl, sitting beside Riku. He looks to Geto across the table and swallows his food before speaking up, “Damn, I almost feel bad for her.”

“I don’t. She should do something about that attitude if she wants to cum so bad.” Geto says simply, not looking up from his kaisendon to acknowledge Riku as he takes a huge bite of rice and tuna. He looks up at Gojo instead, “I mean, shit, it’s not like we’ve gotten to either.”

Gojo turns back to Riku, “He’s got a point. Imagine how we feel, Ricchan,” he releases his hold from his bowl and reaches over to cup her face with the palm of his hand, “you’re probably used to getting whatever the fuck you want with that cute face of yours… But that big eyes and pouting shit won’t work on us, babe.” Gojo continues to gaze over and be taken with her soft, facial features, even with her bruised cheek, “Fucking gorgeous… Even though you’re a spoiled little yakuza princess, hm?” His thumb brushes down the side of her face, careful not to press on the bruise.

“Mhm,” Riku hums affirmatively as she eats her food, unashamed of the ‘spoiled’ title. Though the life comes with a lot of work, and even more trouble, Riku thinks she enjoys mostly being able to afford whatever she wants and take care of the people she loves. Even if her family is ranked 10th out of the 15 Tokyo yakuza clans, they are still far more than just ‘well off,’ compared to most in the city, “Not quite a yakuza princess, you know, not being the family heir and all—but I sure am spoiled.” She agrees, smiling to Gojo’s compliment regardless.

Gojo keeps his hand on her cheek, “But you used to be… until Ren died, no?”

Riku’s smile drops, and her eyes dull at the sound of her dad’s name.

She hasn’t heard it in years, and she can’t help but be thankful for all those who are and had been more delicate about the subject of her deceased parents around her—compared to Gojo, who clearly doesn’t care about or understand the idea of a touchy subject.

But he was right. It was always supposed to be Riku. Riku’s dad, Ren, was the Ozaki clan’s leader when she was a child. It was only after him and Riku’s mother, Jakucho, had been murdered that his younger brother, Jin, had taken over and assumed leadership of the family. And this had made his daughter and Riku’s cousin, Umika, the next Ozaki heir.

‘Is that why you act like that?’ Gojo’s question from just the night before, the one he’d asked Riku right after she’d shared about her parents being dead, rings through her head. Maybe. Or maybe it was the fact that it was always supposed to be her in power, all along. Instead, she was relegated to dealing in boring, family organizational work and teaching classes at their studios—rather than leading their family’s real money maker: running Tokyo’s underground art trading, stealing, and copying market. Riku was robbed of her birthright. Maybe that’s what gave her a bad attitude.

Riku meets Gojo’s electric, cerulean eyes and gently moves his hand from her face, “Who told you that?”

“Just a little birdie.” Gojo says with a hint of a smirk.

“Right.” Riku returns her gaze to her food, continuing to eat, “How was your day?” She asks in between bites, resolving to change the subject. Though she’s looking down, she feels both Gojo and Geto’s eyes burn into her with interest.

“Hm… you really don’t like to talk about your family, huh?” Gojo rests his chopsticks down on the table after he finishes cleaning out the contents of his bowl, humming and gazing up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before responding, “A little crazy,” he starts, “but very productive. Burned a few Zenin weapons warehouses, met with the 15 families—including your uncle, by the way, who says hi—tracked Toji’s movements for a few hours, interrogated a few Zenin assholes, and… now I’m having dinner with you, babe.” Gojo smiles brightly, and Riku is honestly a little concerned by how casually Gojo had just listed all of those actions off as if they were as minuscule as stops on a shopping trip.

“So, it was really your idea for me to stay here?” Riku raises a brow.

“That’s right. The first thing that comes to mind when you hear ‘drug lord’s house’ probably isn’t ‘safety,’ but it’s a nice little mountaintop property, huh?”

“Little?” Riku questions Gojo’s word choice, taking another bite of her food.

“Well, maybe not little.” He laughs, reaching over to rest his hand on Riku’s bare thigh, “I heard you two had a little date at the onsen,” Gojo looks between Geto and Riku.

“We got to know each other a little better.” Geto admits with a smile, seemingly out of his sour mood from earlier. He finishes the last few bites of his kaisendon.

“And didn’t invite me? It’s not fair.” Gojo pouts comedically, and Riku giggles at his playful response, “Seriously, Ri! I’ve been out working all day trying to figure out a way to protect you, and track down the asshole who put that bruise on your face, and prevent any other Tokyo Yakuza syndicate drama, and you two go to the spa? Shit’s kind of fucked up.”

“Hey, I worked a full day, too, you know! I had to deal with idiot remodelers at our dance studio, and of course one of the teachers bailed out of nowhere so I had to pick up a few classes… I mean, it’s not nearly as scary as all that shit you did today, but still!”

Gojo begins to chuckle, but it quickly turns into an all-out cackle, tears in the corners of his eyes as he’s unable to help the hearty laugh Riku’s response gives him.

“What’s so funny, you rabbit haired motherfucker?” Riku narrows her eyes at Gojo, starting to get annoyed by his unending guffaw. He only laughs harder to this.

On the other side of the table, Geto’s phone vibrates and he quickly picks it up to glance at the screen. His eyes widen just slightly and he rises to his feet, “Oi, Satoru. Know Riku’s idea of work is hilarious and all, but can you quiet the fuck down? I gotta take a call outside.” Geto doesn’t waste any time and picks up his glass of wine to take with him, already striding over towards the floor length glass doors on the opposite side of the room that open into a vast, marble balcony which overlooks a similar view as the onsen’s—a cliff and a full, unobstructed view of the city lights at night, “Hello?” Geto answers the call as he steps out and closes the door behind him.

Still recovering from his fit of laughter, Gojo wipes the tears at the corners of his eyes, starting to rise from his seat, himself, “You’re a comedian, Ri. Seriously…” He pushes his chair back under the table after he stands, then stretches his arms up and bends his torso to his right and left sides, releasing the tightness from his muscles, “Ah, that kaisendon was good. Think I’m gonna shower, but you keep eating, babe.” Gojo winks, already walking off towards another part of the mansion.

Riku’s jaw drops to this, “Seriously, Satoru? Both of you are gonna leave me alone at the dinner table again? Just like last night?!”

“You’re more than welcome to join me…” Gojo says just before exiting the room, not even bothering to look back at her as he spoke.

Riku rolls her eyes. She releases a short exhale from her nose when she looks around the table, eyes falling on the two men’s abandoned glasses, empty bowls, and chopsticks. Riku is sure Geto has some sort of maid or cleaning service, but picks up and neatly organizes the dishes in a stack before heading back to the kitchen where she pops them into the double-doored dish washer. Is this really what the next few days will be like? Me, at the whims of these occasionally considerate yet spacey, crazy, and secretive two men?

After retrieving her phone from the couch in the living room, still only dressed in Geto’s shirt and boxers, Riku walks barefoot down the long hallway corridor which leads to a series of rooms, noting one of the doors is slightly cracked open. Riku pops her head in, unable to help her curiosity, and is met with the faint smell Geto’s scent—mahogany and amber notes. She steps in, flicking the light switch on so that the sizable room comes into view: dark wooden floors and a king-sized bed with a deep grayish black set of blankets, sheets, and pillows. The room is in a perfect corner of the mansion, and the windows curve around nearly every edge of it, stretching up to the ceiling which reached at least 20 feet above the floor.

Riku allows herself to fall back onto the bed and looks over the boundless view of the city with a sigh, enjoying Geto’s faint but delicious smell that wafts from the pillows. She turns her head to one side to poke her nose in the soft, down pillows and takes a deep inhale, feeling the muscles beneath her abdomen clench warmly at the smell of the man alone. It’s honestly perverted how little it takes her to rediscover her arousal from earlier, her hands smoothing down her chest and stomach at the thought of how Gojo had kneaded her breasts while Geto rubbed his fingers so flawlessly over her clit. She still wants to cum, and would make it happen for herself even if Gojo and Geto wouldn’t.

Riku lifts her hips up, removing Geto’s black boxer-briefs from her legs then tossing them across the room somewhere in front of the bed. She spreads her legs just slightly, one of her hands slipping up the white shirt to fondle her breast while the other moves between her legs. Riku tries to remember and copy Geto’s finger movements from earlier, the gentle side-to-side motion of his long digits rubbing on her clit. She bites her lip and releases a small moan, then closes her eyes to take a slow breath as she continues to touch herself salaciously, wetness already beginning to pool between her folds. She continues like this for a while, breathing only growing more and more ragged, and her heart only beginning to thump harder against her chest.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Riku jumps to the sound of Gojo’s voice, eyes blinking open and hands hastily rushing to cover herself up as she tries to sit upright, “Satoru…! Fuck, you scared me…”

The man chuckles, standing right in front of the king-sized bed with Riku at its center. He’s only in a white towel that hangs low on the deep cut of his waist, his chiseled arms, chest, and abs on full display and his white hair still a little damp and messy from his shower. Riku realizes she’s never seen Gojo without a shirt until now. Unlike Geto, his skin is completely bare of any tattoos. His porcelain skin looks perfect upon first glance—definitely not the type you’d imagine to belong to the strongest yakuza in Tokyo—but when he steps closer to the bed, Riku spots the incredibly faint scars that litter his abdomen and arms. The scars are hardly visible as they’d healed well and were probably from years ago, but just by eyeing the size of a few of them, Riku could imagine that some had been much bigger wounds initially.

“You’re pretty bold, Ri, I’ll give you that,” Gojo grins at the sight of her on the bed, suddenly grasping and pulling her ankles so that she’s closer to sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Agh—!” Riku voices her surprise at suddenly being moved.

“and a selfish fucking brat.” Gojo bends over to lowly whisper in her ear, “All you care about is yourself, isn’t that right?”

“No…! I’m not so selfish!” Riku defensively protests Gojo’s assumption of her character, voice weak with both arousal and embarrassment.

“Then prove it, slut. Stand up, and on your knees. Now.” Gojo commands Riku so degenerate-like that he nearly spits his words at her, a wicked smile on his face.

Riku rises off the bed and stands onto her feet, watching as Gojo removes the white towel from his hips. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls agape in shock. Is he bigger than Geto?! Gojo’s dick springs to life when released from the confines of the white material, already fully hard and erect. He may not have as much girth as Geto, but has the other beat length-wise by at least half an inch.

He laughs to Riku’s look of shock, gently patting her shoulder as he replaces her seat on the edge of the bed, “Not the first time I’ve gotten that face. But don’t worry, babe, I promise I won’t choke you too much.”

Riku glares at Gojo as she lowers to her knees, first removing Geto’s oversized shirt from her body. She peels the fabric up and off her before tossing it on top of Gojo’s towel on the floor.

Gojo offers a low, long whistle at the sight of Riku’s toned figure, his hand squeezing the length of his dick from base to tip, “You’re curvy in all the right places, Ri, you know that?”

“Mhm…” Riku hums enticingly, making sure to keep her soft brown eyes locked on Gojo’s ice blue ones as she moves one of her hands to join his on his cock, stroking him off from base to tip at a both delightful yet agonizingly slow pace. Gojo removes his hand after a while, allowing Riku to please him as she likes.

Riku wets her lips, looking up into Gojo’s piercing blue eyes as she begins to palm his dick with her hand. She sticks her tongue out to lick and tease the tip, fingers tightly rubbing up and down the long length of it. She pauses, retreating for a moment to speak, “Thank you for helping take care of me, today, Satoru—let me take care of you.” She says lewdly, taking the length of Gojo’s dick into her mouth at the last of her words.

“Mm, that’s what I like to hear, beautiful, fuck—” He fists a handful of her long, black curls at the root.

Riku wraps her lips around Gojo’s cock, wetting the length of it before hollowing out her mouth and beginning to suck it. She pulls back for a moment, spitting on the tip of it before stroking the wetness of her saliva over his dick with her fingers. She returns her mouth to his cock, looking up at him again and wasting no time as she hungrily sucks him off with her sopping wet, downright filthy mouth. Her hand strokes every inch of him that her mouth can’t reach, and her other hand rests on his thigh to steady herself, occasionally shifting over to fondle his balls while she continues to suck him at an even pace. Her jaw is already beginning to hurt from the size of Gojo’s cock alone, but she keeps up her work, hoping he would reward her later for sucking him off so good.

“Fuck, Ri, who taught you to suck dick like this…? Actually, don’t answer that.” Gojo chuckles lightly and watches Riku’s every movement with a slight smirk that only grows more heated, breathing growing heavier by the moment as the sinful sounds of Riku slurping and swirling her tongue around his dick fill up the otherwise quiet room. Gojo uses his grip on Riku’s hair to push her head all the way down on his length until her nose just barely touches the light dusting of his white, trimmed hair at the base. Riku gags and chokes loudly around Gojo’s dick, but he holds her down on him regardless, enjoying the feeling of her tight throat squeezing his tip for a few seconds before releasing her from his hold, “Fuck, babe, you’re fucking amazing…” He groans.

Riku pulls off of Gojo’s cock in a rough coughing fit, saliva messily dripping down her mouth and all the way to her chest. Her eyes water and a few tears fall from the irritation of Gojo fucking her throat mercilessly, “I t-thought you said you wouldn’t choke me so much!” She whines, a few more tears rolling down her cheeks, “You’re fucking huge, you bastard!!”

Gojo grins, using one hand to continue stroking his dick and the other to wipe the tears from Riku’s face, “I lied. I’m sorry, Ri. You just felt so damn good—”

“Really, you two, again?!”

Both Gojo and Riku’s heads turn towards the door of the bedroom, Geto visibly pissed and shaking his head as he enters. Maybe his phone call didn’t go well? Riku thinks.

“Fucking around without me, in my house??” Geto quickly approaches them, the only clothed one in the room, “And fuck, Satoru are you still stroking yourself off?!!”

Riku glances back at Gojo who still has his hand on his dick, steadily pumping it up and down, “What? This one’s mad from me fucking her throat and she’s so cute… Plus you’re pretty hot when you’re angry, too.” Gojo grins up at Geto who towers over them from his standing position.

“You sick fucking asshole…” Geto still looks kind of angry but is unable to stifle his chuckle. He peels off his shirt, allowing it to fall onto the ground beside them as he looks between Riku and Gojo, “Let me guess. This one wanted to cum again and started shit?” His eyes focus on Riku, who’s still on her knees on the floor in front of Gojo.

“Bingo.” Gojo smirks, dark gaze locked on Riku, “Caught her touching herself on your bed. So now she’s proving how selfless she can be for me. Was doing a pretty spectacular job, too… You’re a real freak with your mouth, aren’t you Ricchan?” He trails his fingers under her chin that’s still drenched.

Riku blushes, still not anywhere near used to dealing with two men in the bedroom like this—especially not these two men, “I’m glad you liked it...” She manages, turning up the sweetness in her voice.

Geto suddenly pulls Riku’s chin out of Gojo’s grasp and into his own, “You just couldn’t stand being away from me longer than a minute, could you, Ri? Even though I’ve been touching you all evening. Why’s that?” He asks lowly, his back bent nearly 90 degrees so that his face is close to Riku’s.

Because I want to cum. Riku doesn’t say that, though, as she knows it’ll only get her into more trouble with Geto, and that Gojo would call her a selfish brat again. Riku wants to get what she desires most in this moment, and will play these two’s little game if it means she gets to climax in the end, “Because I need you both, so bad!” She whines wantonly, looking between Gojo and Geto. Well, it’s definitely not a lie.

“You slut… You need what so bad, Ri?” Gojo asks for clarification, tone completely serious. He fists his cock deliciously slow and tangles a hand in her curls.

“I need you both to fuck me, please…!” It’s not hard for her to act helpless, as she is quite literally on her knees between the two men.

Gojo and Geto exchange a look in their unspoken language, both grinning at each other. Gojo grabs Riku’s arm and stands, pulling her up with him as he does so and Geto stands back upright as well. Gojo easily tosses Riku back on the bed and joins her, torso gliding into the space above her and holding the backs of her knees to hoist her legs over his shoulders. In a matter of seconds, Gojo has Riku folded up beneath him and is rubbing the head of his dick over her slick folds.

Riku giggles, enjoying and amused by Gojo’s manhandling of her, “Someone’s impatient.” She smirks up at Gojo slyly, biting her lip to the feeling of him teasing of her entrance.

“He’s always like this,” Geto explains, moving around the bed and to one of his nightstands to open a drawer and search through it.

“You on birth control, babe?” Gojo ignores their remarks, his dark, heated gaze locked on Riku as he continues to prod and press his length against her pussy.

“Not currently.” She shakes her head shyly.

Geto speaks up from over at the nightstand, finally finding what he’d already been looking for—the pack of XL condoms, “She hasn’t had sex in over a year, Satoru. You really think she’s on birth control?” He breaks the box open and tosses a string of condoms to Gojo.

Gojo snatches the condoms out of the air, straightening his back to sit up and break away from Riku as he tears open one of the foil packages and rolls the latex over his cock, “Thanks, Suguru.” He muses, glancing over at the man who now sits at the head of the large bed to watch the show Gojo and Riku would surely put on for him. Gojo is not just thankful for the condoms but also for letting him take Riku first.

“Take it easy, alright?” Geto warns his friend, knowing he has a tendency to be rough in bed. Though much unlike the girls they usually engage with, Riku isn’t just some random girl that the two of them could play with however they like; she’s yakuza, and hurting her could create a lot of trouble for Gojo and Geto as they promised her family they’d keep her safe.

“I can take the pain…” Riku suggests from beneath Gojo with rose colored cheeks, her body warm with heated anticipation, “…I even like it.” She coos.

“‘s that right, babe?” Gojo asks, one hand moving to press down on the bed at Riku’s side to hold himself up above her and the other massaging the head of his hardened dick between her folds and to her wet hole, “Then I’ll make it hurt so good, just for you, Ri.” Gojo abruptly ceases his light teasing and slams his hips into Riku’s, fully entering her in one severe stroke.

When Riku feels Gojo’s member savagely pump up into her cunt, filling and stretching her beyond belief, she cries out with a noisy groan, tears stinging the corners of her eyes once more, “Satoru…!” She bawls with a pained expression, hips subconsciously shifting back on the sheets.

Geto watches with his alluring gaze from his propped-up position at the head of the bed, and reaches down beneath the band of his sweatpants to pull his dick from his pants before beginning to stroke himself steadily.

“Fuck, Ri, you’re fucking tight. It’s really been a while for you, huh?” Gojo notes, sickly admiring the look of pain on Riku’s face. He uses his free hand to grab her hip, pulling her back closer to him on the bed, “And don’t run, babe; you said you could take it, right?” He asks, backing his hips up significantly so that his cock nearly departs Riku’s pussy completely before slamming back in again. Gojo repeats these wicked motions at least a dozen or so times, the obscene noises of Riku’s drenched cunt adjusting around his dick filling the silence of Geto’s bedroom. Riku moans as well, unable to restrain the loud cries that escape her lips with each of Gojo’s dastard thrusts. Gojo bends down, taking the mound of Riku’s tit in his mouth before licking and sucking around her hardened nipple. He gives the same attention to her other breast, ceasing his overly harsh thrusts and beginning to start stroking himself in and out of Riku at an even pace.

Tears threaten to fall from Riku’s eyes as she begins to feel the hot pleasure from Gojo’s new pace, a pleasant shock running from deep in her abdomen, all the way up her spine, “God, Satoru—” she gasps the words, “—it’s so big!” In her current position, legs hooked over Gojo’s shoulders as he fucks into her, Riku can feel his cock poke and bruise her cervix.

“Yeah, but you’re taking me so good,” Gojo praises, fingers from his free hand brushing under Riku’s eyes when her tears finally fall. He takes advantage of her open mouth to press his lips to hers in a downright disgusting kiss, pausing every so often to speak or to lick, suck, and bite her bottom lip, “such a good fucking girl,” he pants out, overtaken with lust, “c’mon, princess, let it out…” Gojo closes his hand around Riku’s neck at the last of his words, “…you need this, don’t you?”

Riku shamelessly moans beneath Gojo, glancing down to watch his cock disappear inside of her over and over as pleasure begins to build thickly in her abdomen. The sound of Gojo slamming his hips into hers echoes loudly in the room, and Riku can hardly take it.

Gojo straightens Riku back up with his hand on her neck so that her gaze is on him once again, “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, and use your words, Ri. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Yes, I need it, agh! I need you to fuck me, Satoru!!” It doesn’t take much for Riku, as both Gojo and Geto had edged her an hour ago; after a few mere minutes she’s already hastily approaching her orgasm, feeling her sanity start to slip as the sensation of her impending climax begins to take over her. Riku grabs Gojo’s toned arm that holds him up over her for purchase, her other hand moving to rest on the hand he has tightened around her neck.

Gojo watches with a delightful, open-mouthed smirk as Riku breaks beneath him, speeding up their pace and quickly pumping his dick in and out of her pussy. Riku hyperventilates as the feeling is almost too much for her, screaming as she finally reaches the height of her orgasm and clenching hard around Gojo’s length. Her body jerks violently, and she moans as her walls tightly grip his dick with each wave of her climax that follows.

Still fucking her, Gojo is unable to help but grunt when Riku clenches his cock repeatedly, “Fuck, Ri, you’re squeezing me so nice…” He trails off, glancing up to Geto at the head of the bed who licks his lips as he continues to stroke himself at the erotic scene before him, “Isn’t she so perfect like this, Suguru?” Gojo asks, straightening his back so that he sits up and releases his hand from her neck to gently brush his thumb over her unbruised cheek.

“Fucking beautiful.” Geto sits up to remove his sweatpants, tossing them over the side of the bed once he has them off. He keeps his gaze on Riku’s reddened face as she comes down from her orgasm, still moaning lightly to Gojo’s thrusts and the euphoric sensation of her recent orgasm that courses through her whole body but especially her head and lower stomach.

Now completely bare, Geto moves on the bed to the side of Riku’s head, lowering to his knees so that his dick stands erect before her face. He strokes his thick cock a few times with one hand, his other brushing through her long curls to rest under her head and prop it up, “Why don’t you show me how good you can be, Ri?”

Pleasure still pulsing through her body, Riku doesn’t hesitate and parts her lips to take Geto’s dick in her mouth while Gojo continues to fuck her, making sure to wet the length of it as the man helped guide her bob her head back and forth on it. Though it is just slightly smaller in size, Geto’s dick has more girth than Gojo’s and Riku struggles to wrap her mouth around it for long without her jaw getting sore. She sucks regardless, simply turned on at the idea of both ends of her body being filled up so nicely. Geto sets a rhythm, shallowly bucking his hips so that his cock pumps deeper into Riku’s mouth.

Gojo’s pace only hastens at the nasty scene of his friend fucking Riku’s face before him, continuing to thrust in and out of her and feeling himself near his edge as well, “Fuck…” Gojo’s hips begin to move erratically, driving them even harder and faster into Riku until he finally stills with a loud grunt; and Geto takes this opportunity to reach over with his free hand that no longer needed to stroke his cock, as Riku had replaced it with her mouth, pulling his friend in by his white hair for a long, passionate, messy kiss.

Riku hums a moan on Geto’s dick at the sight of the two men kissing each other, sucking a little harder. Both men then suddenly pull out of her at once, Geto’s hand still tangled in Gojo’s hair as he speaks his next words.

“My turn?” Geto asks with a mischievous grin, abandoning his hold on Riku’s head and instead holding his hand out in front of Gojo.

Gojo matches Geto’s grin and slaps his hand with his own, tagging himself out and his friend in, “Your turn.” He nearly sings.

Riku rolls her eyes to the sight of this and huffs an exhale through her nose, “Seriously? Turn off…” She huffs, half-joking, but also half-serious. Riku adjusts herself on the bed a bit, lifting her head to neatly comb the long black curls out from under her back with her fingers.

Gojo bends over, pressing a light kiss to Riku’s lips and smacking the side of her thigh with the flat of his hand before stepping off the bed and discarding of his condom at a nearby, small trash bin in the corner of Geto’s room, “Thanks, Ricchan. You were amazing.” He smirks, face beaming with kindness as if he hadn’t just ruthlessly fucked her.

“Ow…” Riku meets Gojo’s smile with glaring eyes from across the room, rubbing the side of her ass where the man had slapped her.

Geto grabs Riku by the arm, easily jerking it so that she sits up and he regains her attention, “I know what’ll turn you back on.” He says, hardly any more than a few centimeters from her face.

“And what’s that?” Riku asks while blinking up at Geto, voice breathy and tempting.

“What’s your favorite position, beautiful?” Geto questions honestly.

And for some reason unbeknownst to herself, Riku blushes shyly—as if she hadn’t just sucked this man off while his best friend fucked her. She bites her lip, trying not to show her embarrassment too much, “Collapsed doggy…” She looks away.

“Ahh, face down, ass up, hm?” Geto grins just barely, watching Riku’s reddened face as if he’s saving this image of her in his memory, “It’s a good one.” He cups Riku’s cheek, then slowly rubs his fingers over the soft skin there, all the way to the back of her neck and gently massaging his fingers just under her hairline, “Why don’t you assume the position for me, then?”

Riku closes her eyes for a moment, tilting her head back for Geto to massage more of her head—he doesn’t and instead stops. It’s probably a good thing, as the relaxing movements of his gentle kneading only makes her sleepier after having orgasmed just minutes ago. Riku thinks she definitely has another one in her. She nods with a smile to Geto’s kindness, turning out of his grasp and over onto her front on the bed.

Riku pulls her knees up under her on the bed, lifting her hips in the air and creating a deep arch with her back—one that curves more drastically than the average person’s due to her hyper-mobility from years of dancing. She scoots back on the bed until she feels Geto’s thigh behind her ass. Riku is surprised to hear him chuckle and turns her head back to see what the fuss is about.

“Shit, Ri, seriously? It’s not even fair how sexy you are.” Geto grabs the sharp curve of Riku’s back at her waist with his hands and presses his thighs flush against the back of hers, cock rubbing over the cleft of her ass, “Like this is crazy.”

“Fuck…” Gojo walks back from the bin, leaning over the bed to closely examine Riku’s arched back, “I should’ve fucked her like that!” He says, sounding genuinely disappointed. He quirks his brows, glancing over to Riku’s face, “I mean you should see yourself, Ricchan.”

Riku giggles as she turns to look at Gojo, her cheek pressed to the soft comforter of the bed.

“Want me to take a pic?” Gojo asks, voice suddenly lowering.

“Um, as long as my face isn’t in it. Sure.” She decides, a sweet smile remaining on her lips. She trusts these men to an extent, but not that much.

Gojo begins to scan the vast room with his eyes for either his or Geto’s phone.

“Check my sweats.” Geto directs, eyes remaining on Riku. He slides his hands up from the intense curve of her back, tightly squeezing each of her ass cheeks with each of his hands, his dick still resting between her cheeks, “Damn. I guess I can understand why a guy might be inclined to give you anything you want, with an arch like this…”

Gojo retrieves Geto’s phone from his sweatpants pocket and opens up the camera with a grin, “Say cheese!”

Riku turns to press her face into the sheets, moving her hair to cover any parts of her face that aren’t hidden. She hears Gojo tap the screen once.

“All done.” Gojo announces, “You mind if I send it to myself, babe?”

“Sure.” Riku laughs lightly, raising her head back up to rest it on one side once more.

Geto reaches over to grab a new condom from the string of them at the edge of the bed, breaking the foil package with his teeth before spitting it from his lips and carefully rolling the latex over his dick.

“Thanks for the future fap material!” Gojo locks the phone after he sends the picture to his phone contact, tossing Geto’s phone to the corner of the king size bed. He then collapses back onto the bed, reclining back into the spot where Geto had previously been laying while they fucked, “Now, action!!” He claps his hands once, then tucks them behind his head, seemingly excited to watch the show of Geto and Riku before him.

Both Geto and Riku laugh, but Riku’s giggle is cut off by a sharp moan when she feels Geto’s dick push all the way inside of her with one thrust, her ass jerked back at the pull of his strong grip on her hip. Riku feels a bit of pain as she stretches around and adjusts to Geto’s thick girth, whimpering when he begins to move at a slow pace. Riku grabs tufts of the comforter’s fabric on either side of her head for purchase from the recoil of her hips—driven forward by each buck from Geto, “Too thick…!” she whines.

“Mhm. But you’re taking it, aren’t you?” Geto moves completely different than how Gojo had earlier, swiftly pushing his dick in and out of Riku’s cunt instead of fucking her harsh and relentlessly. He fucks her the way Riku imagines most women would go crazy for—for her pleasure—and as quickly as the slight pain from Geto’s girth had arrived, it’s already gone and being replaced with pleasure, “This is how you like it, right?” Geto asks from above her, increasing his pace.

Riku pants and sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling her entire body heat up from Geto’s perfect thrusts, “Yes…” She groans, feeling her mind begin to melt from the heat that nearly overwhelms her.

Geto smacks his hand hard over the curve of Riku’s ass, and the sound echoes loudly throughout his bedroom. It would undoubtedly leave a handprint on her skin there, “Then don’t complain.” He says darkly at Riku’s ear, having pushed them forward slightly so that their position is more ‘collapsed,’ just the way Riku wants.

“Yes, Suguru…!” Riku moans loudly, nearly crying out as Geto deliciously thrusts into her over and over again.

Gojo suddenly leans forward, reaching over to move Riku’s face further to her side and brush the hair from her face so that he has an unobstructed view of the wild, delight-filled look on her face. She rolls her eyes back for a second when Geto begins to flawlessly thrust his dick into the soft bundle of nerves deep in her cunt. Gojo chuckles, brushing the backs of his fingers over Riku’s puffy cheek, “You like Suguru being so nice to you, huh?”

“It’s so good…” She pushes the whimpered words from her throat, “Ah! Please don’t stop, Suguru, please… keep fucking me!” Riku feels herself steadily begin to inch closer to her orgasm as Suguru continuously thrusts into her, a hot heaviness growing in her lower stomach.

“Of course, baby. I’ll give it to you just how you want it.” Geto says, speeding up his pace even further but keeping the same intensity as he fucks Riku down into the sheets, “You know, your pussy keeps pulsing and clenching around me, Ri. Does it really feel that good?”

“Yes!”

“Then cum for me, beautiful.”

Gojo slides his hand under Riku’s chest as he watches them fuck, passing it under and squeezing her breasts that are pressed against the sheets before moving his hand up, over her stomach and abdomen until his fingers reach the sensitive bud right between her legs. He circles his fingers over her clit and Riku gasps out a helpless moan when it’s stimulated, now approaching her climax a lot faster than before.

“Agh…!” Riku’s orgasm finds her without warning; a mix of unintelligible, moaned words and noises fleeing her lips as her body convulses with intense gratification.

Gojo chuckles, “I think you broke her, Suguru. She’s not even speaking coherently.” He looks at his friend, who is too focused on the blissful friction of Riku’s pussy squeezing around his dick to mind his words.

Geto continues to buck his hips quickly, breathing heavily and gritting his teeth together a bit as his orgasm begins to advance closely behind Riku’s, “Fuck—” he whispers under his breath before abruptly pulling out of Riku, removing his condom, and spraying his cum on her ass and back. He looks over her limp, shuddering form as he slowly strokes himself a few last times, smirking down at the beautiful mess he’d made of her cum-stained back. He sucks in a breath and releases a deep sigh, “Now there’s a picture for you,” he notes, bending over to kiss a patch of skin on Riku’s backside that isn’t slick with cum, then moving up to peck her forehead a few times, “so fucking perfect.”

Riku hates how his innocent kisses stir up unfamiliar emotions in her, unable to help the instinctively honest smile that spreads over her lips from feeling them.

“I’ll get you a towel.” Geto announces, tying a simple knot in the condom he has in his hand to discard it and pressing a final kiss on her lips before departing the bed and exiting the room through a side door that leads to the master bathroom.

“You’re so fucking cute.” Gojo is unable to remain teasingly harsh and mean at the sight of Riku’s smiling as she lays on the bed before him. He turns playful, relenting to replace Geto’s affection and bending low to the bed so he could litter Riku’s face with kisses.

“That tickles…!” She laughs, trying to push Gojo away with one of her hands.

Gojo pecks her between words, “Hey, if you keep moving around, you’re gonna get cum all over Suguru’s bed! Just stay still…” He toys with Riku as she giggles, continuing to kiss and tickle her so it’s impossible for her to do as he says.

Geto returns with a white hand towel and slowly wipes Riku’s back with it, gentle as he cleans her smooth back of his cum. When he finishes and discards the towel on the floor, Riku sits up with a light moan, a strong wave of exhaustion hitting her all of a sudden.

“You okay?” Geto asks, lifting a brow.

Riku brushes her fingers through her hair, smoothing it back down as she begins to stand to wobbly feet, “Mhm, just gonna use the bathroom and freshen up a bit.” Riku begins to walk but moans another small noise when she feels a slight soreness deep below her stomach that she hasn’t experienced in a while. She feels the dull sensation each time she takes a step, walking slower to the bathroom than she originally intended.

Gojo snickers to this, “You sure you don’t need help, babe?”

Riku doesn’t turn back; she instead only raises her middle finger up by the side of her head so Gojo can see it, then slips in the bathroom and closes the door.

Gojo chuckles, “Well, that was fun.” He turns his gaze to Geto, who solely slips into his sweatpants before disturbing the neat sheets of his bed and getting beneath them.

Geto rests on his back, allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a moment as the fact that he hadn’t slept in 2 days was finally catching up with him, “It was,” he agrees, opening his eyes after a while to peer over at Gojo curiously, “A little messy, though, fucking with a yakuza girl.”

Gojo yawns, just as, if not more tired than his friend, “Yeah, but she’s not like the other ones.”

“You’ve got that right.” Geto looks out at the city lights on the other side of the window and in the distance, tucking his hands under the back of his head in thought. He can’t help but agree with Gojo; Riku is a lot different than most yakuza women, let alone the general category of women they usually play with. She’s troublesome, sure, but not in a crazy way—more so a curious way. And instead of being obsessive and clingy when it comes to hanging around Gojo and him, she’s cool and collected—outside of the time they’re teasing or fucking her, of course. The most refreshing thing about Riku aside from her beauty is the fact that it honestly seems like she doesn’t even care about trying to trap or get  attached to either of the men, as so many other women had tried to. She keeps herself emotionally distant, and for some reason it only makes Geto want to play with her more. He turns to Gojo who sits on the end of the bed, a devious look in his eyes. Geto knows his friend is thinking the same thing.

“Makes me wanna play with her… See what she’s like when she’s obsessed and in love with someone.” Gojo says lowly so just the other can hear, confirming Geto’s suspicions about their aligned thoughts.

“Hm… I definitely do, too, but Jin would kill us if we hurt her.” Geto matches Gojo’s tone, speaking just above a whisper.

Gojo flops back on the bed, still completely naked as he begins to join Geto beneath the covers. He shrugs, “So, we deal with that when we get there. Her clan’s only ranked 10th after all. It would be an easy issue to deal with since they’re not that strong.”

The two men are both silent after Gojo speaks the words. They’re a bit cruel, but they’re mostly true. The Tokyo Yakuza syndicate always preach how the whole collective group of 15 families contribute and support each other equally, but it’s obvious that those on the top are and have always been stronger, richer, and more powerful, while families that ranked near the bottom of the list aren’t and weren’t. It’s a lowdown thought, but a factual one nonetheless—silencing Riku’s family, if they ever gave Gojo and Geto shit for playing with her heart, would be easy to do.

“So, you wanna play a game?” Geto finally asks the question on both of their minds.

“No rules. The first one of us that makes her fall in love, wins.” Gojo turns and holds his hand out in Geto’s direction, grin on his face.

“No rules?” He chuckles once, “You’re crazy. Deal.” Geto says, moving one of the arms from behind his head to grasp his friend’s hand before shaking it once. He grins, “Oh I’m definitely gonna win this by the way. You know, Satoru, you’re not a very nice guy.”

“You’ve never even seen me try.” Gojo grins back at Geto, matching his handshake before letting go.

Riku emerges loudly from the bathroom and Geto clears his throat, both men watching as she shamelessly strides across the room, completely bare and completely oblivious to the two men’s prior conversation. She stops in front of the end of the bed to grab and put back on the shirt Geto had lent her.

Gojo taps the bit of space on the bed between them, “C’mere, Ricchan. Sleep with us.”

Riku simply stands and tiredly blinks a few times, going against her gut instinct that tells her to sleep in a guest room as she’s exhausted and could care less at this moment. She agrees by crawling onto the bed, and Geto peels back the cover so she can get underneath. Riku grabs one of the many long pillows, adjusting it into the space between Gojo and Geto at the head of the bed before easing down and laying her head on it. She lays on her side, facing Geto with her back to Gojo.

Geto quickly shoots Gojo a satisfied look; he had spent a lot more time with Riku today compared to his friend, anyways. He glances down at Riku, though, unsatisfied by how she hadn’t decided to cuddle either of them. He reaches one of his tattooed arms out to wrap around her waist and pulls her torso onto his chest, “C’mon, Ri, we won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Gojo says, bending over to lightly bite Riku’s shoulder that is exposed due to the loose-fitting shirt she wears.

Riku laughs to the bite, wiggling her shoulders around to move Gojo’s face away. She rests her cheek on Geto’s warm chest, ear pressed against him and able to catch the slow, steady thump of his heartbeat. She uses the free arm she isn’t laying on to gently trail her fingers over one of the green dragon tattoos that dances across Geto’s chest, thinking it’s strange how easily she’s comforted by his body heat, and the warm hand that slides up her back to comb through the roots of her hair before gently massaging it.

Riku releases a long, hum of a moan and closes her eyes to this movement, her trailing fingers on Geto’s chest stopping at the blissful sensation of his massaging of her scalp. It was already so obvious to him that she loves when he does this, and he uses this to his advantage, soothing her to sleep. He reaches over to the nightstand with his free hand to get a small remote from one of the top drawers and clicks it a few times, causing the lights to turn off completely. Geto leaves it there on the stand as he feels Riku curl into him even more and refocuses his attention to her, the room now only just barely illuminated by the city lights in the distance, “You like that a lot, don’t you?”

Riku grumbles to the smirk she hears in Geto’s low, snarky tone, “Leave me alone.”

Gojo resolves to tangle his legs with Riku’s, leaning over, chuckling to her grumpy attitude, and pecking the top of her head, “You enjoying your stay with us, Ricchan?”

“It’s pretty good, I guess.” She admits, voice heavy with sleep as Geto continues to move his fingers in her hair in slow circles.

“That’s ‘cos Suguru’s boring. Promise we’ll have more fun tomorrow, Ricchan. This time, just you and I, ‘kay?”

Geto glares at his friend in the dark room to his remark.

Riku nods on Geto’s chest in response to Gojo, already beginning to feel herself drift off.

“Goodnight, Ri.” Geto says with kindness in his voice as he massages her head.

“Night.” She muses, keeping her eyes closed.

“Goodnight, princess.” Gojo says with finality.

chapter endnotes: omg writing threesomes is EXHAUSTING lol.

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 4: Happy Birthday, Nanami! (Flashback)

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3

chapter word count: 6k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

~ July 3rd, Three Years Ago ~ 21:37

Riku stood at the doorstep of Yu Haibara’s mansion, waiting at the door with a heavy bottle of whisky tucked behind her back; she held the thick of the bottle’s neck in her fist. The long, black curls of her hair had been blown out and flat ironed so that it was silk, bone straight; and she wore dark gray booty shorts, black thigh-high boots, and a black leather bodysuit that had deep cutouts on each side.

The private residence that belonged to Nanami’s best friend buzzed with loud music, even with the doors and windows closed. Riku patiently hummed to herself, gently rocking from side to side as she waited for someone to answer the door. She smiled giddily to herself, genuinely excited to spend time with Nanami for his 26th birthday party. Riku couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a house party with all her yakuza friends, but she was glad Yu had convinced him to actually do something fun for once – usually Nanami hated celebrating in loud ways like this, even if it was a small get-together.

The door then opened, with hip hop music booming from the house much louder than before. Yu grinned on the other side of the doorway when he saw Riku; wearing an oversized, streetwear-branded white t-shirt, black tech wear cargo pants, and red Jordan 1s.

“Ri-Ri! Hey, babe! Good to see you!” He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her, platonically pecking her cheek when he hugged her, “You look good!”

She giggled, “Thanks, Yu. Good to see you, too!”

He spotted the bottle behind her back before standing back upright, “That for Nanami?” He quirked a brow, dark brown hair of his bowl cut artfully framing his face.

“Mhm.” Riku nods with a grin, “It’s a limited release bottle of Hibiki Whisky. Only 9 other bottles like it in the whole world.”

“Ooo, he’s going to fucking love that.”

“I know.” Riku said confidently, mouth smirking and shoulders dancing a bit as she spoke.

“Well, follow me!”

Yu led Riku through various living room-like spaces and down a set of stairs that opened up into a vast, private home bar that had been decorated with Black, gold, and silver balloons – some even littering the floor. There was a huge banner of similar colors on the other end of the room that read, ‘HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY NANAMI!!!’ The space contained an extensive, wooden bar complete with stools and a vast collection of rare and expensive bottles, an area with a TV and a few couches, a makeshift dancefloor that Yu had probably constructed by himself, a long stretch of glass window that faced a huge backyard, and a grand, modern-style table covered in hors d'oeuvres with a tall yet simple strawberry shortcake in the center. The party setup and décor were so Nanami – simple, relaxed, and uncomplicated.

There were at least 14 other people in the basement space, a few folks dancing to the popular song that blasted from Yu’s home speaker system and most chatting it up by the bar.

“Riku’s here!” Yu announced, and a few heads turned in their direction.

“Ri!” Nobara shouted, beaming from the area at the end of the long stretch of bar space. The short, gold dress that she wore rose on her hips a bit when she waved.

“Hey, Riku.” Maki chimed in from Nobara’s side, straight-faced as usual but eyes smiling. She wore a faded purple band t-shirt that was tucked into tight-fitting black jeans, and accompanied by a blue jean jacket.

Riku’s eyes spotted Nanami, who clearly hadn’t heard Yu announce her arrival over the loud music as he currently chatted with a few of his guy friends from behind the bar.

Yu turned back to look at Riku, “Make yourself at home, Ri. And let me know if you need anything. ‘Kay?”

Riku smiled softly as she nodded a few times, and Yu strode over to a group of people at the edge of the dancefloor.

Riku held her index finger up to her friends from across the room as if to say, ‘give me a minute,’ and made a beeline for Nanami behind the bar. Damn, he looks good, she thought to herself, always having appreciated his classy sense of style. Nanami had on khaki, tailored slacks that perfectly complimented his visibly toned legs and small, tight butt. He wore a black button up as a top, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick, veined forearms and the first few buttons undone to reveal a black tank top underneath it and a small, gold chain around his neck. The muscles of his pecs just barely peeked from the top of his tank, and Riku studied it much more closely now than she had in the past two years she’d known Nanami as her bodyguard. She never thought she’d feel anything other than a friendship kind-of-love for the man, but in the past few months she’d grown to find him attractive – an attraction not only for his body but more so for the way he treated her.

I’m going to tell him how I feel. Riku thought, reassuring herself as just a few days ago she’d decided to confess her feelings to Nanami on his birthday if she was able to get him alone for a minute.

Nanami loved her. And though the few times he’d confessed to her over the last two years were one thing, it was additionally obvious to Riku and all their friends through the way he looked at and acted around her. For the first time ever, Riku finally thought she felt the same and wanted to give things a try. Though the bottle of whisky tucked behind her back was her physical gift to him, Riku knew that Nanami would probably appreciate her confession a lot more.

Riku reached Nanami’s back and tapped his shoulder with her free hand, appreciating the sight of him in something that wasn’t a full-on suit for once. He turns, and his eyes temporarily widen with awe at the sight of Riku.

“Happy birthday, Ken!” She sang the words, bringing the bottle of whisky around to her front so that it was no longer hidden.

“Ri…” He reached down a bit and instinctively retrieved the bottle from Riku’s hand before wrapping his thick arms around her in a tight hug.

Riku kissed his cheek, allowing her lips to remain there a hair longer than normal as she inhaled the subtle, dark forest notes of his cologne. He always did smell incredible.

“This for me?” Nanami asked after they broke their embrace, eyeing the bottle.

“Yep, it’s a 30-year-old single malt scotch. A Hibiki Whisky small batch limited release… with only 9 other bottles of it in the world.”

“Shit,” His eyes widened in a bit of shock, “I’ve heard of this… this is a 20-thousand-dollar bottle!” He looked at Riku again, “You still got the box?”

“Of course.” Riku smirked.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Nanami gazes down at Riku with a look so full of pure admiration that it honestly makes her heart flutter, “But a 20K bottle of whisky?? You shouldn’t have. I should save this for my 30th or something…” He suddenly dropped into a squat, looking around the back of Yu’s bar before placing the bottle on a hidden shelf.

Riku shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard to get. And hey, special bottle for a special guy. I probably owe it to you anyways, for getting me out of trouble all the time…” She giggled.

Nanami rose to his feet, offering her a small smile - a truly rare occurrence, “Yeah, you got that right.”

Riku suddenly grinned, grabbing both of Nanami’s hands with her own and swiftly interlocking their fingers as she did so. She slightly swung from side to side in time with the music and brought their arms up in a dance position, “You gonna dance with me tonight?” She playfully batted her eyelashes up at the blonde.

He sighed but matched her swaying movements, the corners of his mouth curving even further up into a smile, “Oh, I can’t keep up with you, Ri.”

“Sure you can!” Riku released one of Nanami’s hands then spun into his arm so that it’s wrapped around her, and her back was flush with his front, “And if you can’t, I don’t mind dancing enough for the two of us…” She looked back at him and rocked her hips teasingly, and the two friends Nanami had previously been chatting with whooped and hollered.

Nanami chuckled then turned Riku back away from him, to which she twirled in a practiced way and stretched her arm out in a final pose. The small sequence earned a few claps from Nanami’s friends.

“Have you eaten?” Nanami questioned, releasing Riku’s hand from his gentle hold.

“…Does iced coffee count?” Riku replied with her own question, not-so-innocently.

Nanami rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his sides, “Jesus Christ, Ri. Please eat something.” He checked his silver watch, “It’s already almost 10 pm!” He paused before continuing, “There’s plenty to eat. Yu even got chicken wings from Nagoya.”

Riku’s eyes widened, “Nagoya-style wings?!” Riku felt her mouth begin to water; she couldn’t think of the last time she’d had good wings.

“Yeah, I know you like them so much, so I had Yu add ‘em to the food list.” He admitted.

“Ken…!” Riku looked like she was going to cry, suddenly squeezing Nanami tight in a hug. She stayed locked on him, propping her chin up on his shoulder to look at him as she spoke her next words, “Thank you!”

“Mhm, welcome.” And there were those loving eyes of his, again, gazing directly down at her.

Riku felt her heart skip a beat and blushed, hesitantly breaking from Nanami before shyly easing away from the man, “Remind me to tell you something later.”

Nanami shamelessly looked Riku up and down, a curious look on his face, “Okay... Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Riku offered him a relaxed, honest smile and held her hands behind her back.

“Good, then I’ll talk to you later.”

Riku turned around to walk towards her friends on the other side, and Nanami leaned against the back of the bar to watch her walk away.

One of Nanami’s friends who had been watching the interaction patted him on the back apologetically, “Fuck, you’ve got it bad, man.” He laughed.

Nanami shook his head a few times, just barely smiling to himself, “Shut up.” He picked up the glass he’d been sipping from earlier, topping it off before raising it to his lips for a swig. He continued to watch Riku stride over to her friends, eyes locked on the exposed skin between her shorts and her thigh-high boots, “I mean, she’s fucking perfect…”

His other friend nearby clasped his hands onto the trap muscles of Nanami’s shoulders before aggressively massaging them in encouragement, “Never give up, bro. And it’s your birthday today! Anything’s possible!”

Nanami playfully shoved his friend away, “Yeah, whatever.”

When Riku returned to her friends, she brought a small plate of wings with her, already through two of the six she’d piled on the tiny dish and eaten on her way over to them.

“Hey, Ri. Wait—” Nobara looked shocked when she saw Riku snacking on the wings, “There’s Nagoya wings?? What the fuck! Why didn’t anyone tell me?!!”

Mouth still full, Riku poked her plate in Nobara’s direction, to which she gladly takes one.

“Thank you…!” Nobara cheered happily before taking a bite from her flat.

Maki reached over, not waiting for Riku to offer her a wing before taking one, “Nagoya wings?! Yeah, I’m gonna need one of those in my mouth right fucking now.” She took a large bite out of the drumstick she’d snagged.

Nobara tried to swallow quickly, looking like she wanted to speak up all of a sudden.

“Don’t you fucking say it—” Maki started to warn, but Nobara interrupted anyways.

“That’s what she said!” Nobara shouted, before poking her wing in Maki’s direction and laughing.

Riku giggled, not at the bad joke but more so to her friends’ interaction.

“I hate you… so, so much. You know that?” Maki glared at Nobara, then finished her drumstick, placing the bone on the small pile of them on the corner of Riku’s plate.

“Love you too!” Nobara blew a kiss to Maki then turned to Riku, looking her friend up and down, “Shit… you look hot!”

“Thanks, bae!” Riku smiled cutely, giving her friends a small twirl so they could see every angle of her outfit.

“Yeah, those shorts make your ass look fat as hell!” Nobara used her free hand to lightly tap the thick round of Riku’s butt, and Riku poked it out a bit more flirtingly when Nobara slaps it a second time.

“Thank you…!” Riku half said, half sung, shaking her butt to the music for a few counts before ceasing and standing up once more. She looked to Nobara’s dress, “Cute dress, Nobara!” then glanced to Maki, “And I’m definitely stealing your jean jacket.”

Maki pulled the fabric closer to her body, defensively, “So you can lose it? No way!”

The three of them laughed.

“Oh, you missed the wonder boys, by the way.” Nobara noted.

“Wonder boys?” Riku looked confused.

“You know which ones. The infamous, one and only dynamic duo?” Maki added, jogging Riku’s memory.

Riku blinked in realization, “Oh! Gojo and Geto?”

“Mhm,” Nobara finished her flat and put the bones on Riku’s plate before dusting off her fingers, “Gojo was so hot, too. He had on this all-white getup that looked so good.”

“They left already?” Riku retrieved her phone that stuck out her front pocket to check the time, 21:50, “But it’s barely even 10?”

“Yeah, think they had an emergency to handle, so they bounced early.” Maki explained to the best of her knowledge.

“Huh, strange… Seems like I always miss them.” Riku thought to herself of all the times over the past years she’d known Nanami that she’d ‘just missed’ Gojo and Geto. It was more than handful of times.

“That is strange…” Nobara narrows her eyes at Riku, curiously, “Especially with Nanami being your bodyguard and the three of them being friends for decades… You’ve really never met Gojo and Geto?” She quired a brow.

“Not once.” Riku said simply, “I mean, sure, I’ve seen ‘em across a yakuza banquet hall once or twice at family meetings; but that’s it, really.”

“Weird.” Maki concluded, similarly narrowing her eyes at Riku.

“Oh! And Geto had on leather pants! You missed leather pants Suguru Geto, Riku!” Nobara cried dramatically.

“Oh no! Not leather pants Suguru Geto! What am I to do?” Riku feigned excitement, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously! You wouldn’t get it since you’ve never seen Suguru’s ass in tight pants. It’s a spiritual experience, Riku.” Nobara said, hands on either side of her face and smiling at the thought.

“Relax!” Riku laughed.

Just then, Yu appeared from behind Riku with his hand out to take Riku’s now empty plate of wing bones. He leaned over her shoulder with a smile, “I’ll take that. You want anything else, or something to drink, Ri?”

She passed the plate to him, “Yes! Something strong… Like, 100-proof! Thanks, Mr. Host!”

“Ooo… so you wanna get fucked up, huh?” He grins.

“Just a little.” Riku pinched her newly freed fingers together as a unit of measurement, smirking.

“Coming right up, babe.” He winked at her before walking towards the back of the bar.

“Now, who the fuck is gonna dance with me?!” Nobara exclaimed, arms out.

“You know I’m always down to dance – DTD, if you will.” Riku smirked, taking one of Nobara’s hands and shaking it in the air.

“You kids have fun.” Maki nearly crossed her arms over her chest, but Riku snagged her arm with her free hand, pulling both her and Nobara along to the dancefloor.

“What do you mean, Maki? You’re coming, too!”

~ 22:58 ~

A group of seven including Nanami, Yu, Maki, Nobara, Riku, Momo – who had come all the way from the Kyoto yakuza syndicate – and one of Nanami’s friends that Riku didn’t know had separated from the larger group around the bar in the center, back area of the room, and currently sat on a few couches in the TV area with a roundtable in the center.

Momo and Nobara fiddled with a board game box on the center of the table that read, ‘21+ TRUTH DARE, OR DRINK: THE CARD GAME,’ while Yu topped a few glasses off for those who’d requested him to.

Riku giggled when Yu refilled her glass, face blushing a light pink to the buzz she currently had as she was now 6 glasses of whisky in, “That makes seven!”

“And that’s your last one for a while.” Nanami pointed his finger at Ri from across the table.

“Oh, don’t poop your own party, blondie. Lighten up!” Riku locked eyes with Nanami when she took her next sip, to which the man simply shakes his head.

“Why the hell are we even playing this?” Maki stared at the box in front of them, “It’s a little childish, no?”

“It’s fun! And it clearly says ‘21+’ Maki!” Nobara finally removed the top from the cardboard box with Momo’s help, pointer finger trailing over the big letters of the game’s age rating for Maki to see and read.

“That doesn’t… never mind.” Maki stopped herself.

“You wanna play this, Ken?” Yu asked Nanami, before plopping down on the couch next to him.

Nobara and Momo held hands, looking at Nanami pleadingly.

“…Sure. As long as I can sit here and relax.”

“Yaaaaay!” Nobara and Momo cheered, then organized the two decks of cards. The black cards had ‘TRUTH’ printed on the back, while the red cards had ‘DARE.’

“I think this one’s pretty simple,” Nobara said, reading through the small paper card that had the game rules on it, “make a circle, pick a card from each pile, read them aloud and choose to do either the dare prompt or to tell the truth prompt. If you choose to do neither, you must take two shots as a penalty.”

Nanami glanced to Riku upon hearing the rules, “Only truths and dares for you, got it?”

“No! You’re boring!”

Nanami gave her a more serious glare.

“Ugh, fine. But only because it’s your birthday.” Riku relented.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ken.” Riku said before taking another sip from her glass—needing to have the last word, as always.

“So, should the birthday boy go first, then?” After shuffling them, Momo organized the red and black decks at the center of the round table so everyone could reach.

“Why the fuck not?” Nanami set his glass down on the table before picking up one card from each pile. He read them aloud, “Tell the group if you’ve ever filmed a sex tape and if you still have it, or… moan in the ear of the person to the right of you for 10 seconds.” The blonde looked to his side to find Yu sitting there, who laughs, “Yeah, no. Truth it is.” Nanami concluded, and Riku booed. Nanami cleared his throat, “Uh, yes I’ve filmed a sex tape; and no, I don’t still have it.”

There’s a few ‘oos’ and ‘ahs’ around the circle.

“Aw, why don’t you still have it?” Nobara whined, asking outright. Riku giggled.

“Keeping that kind of stuff after you break up with someone would be kinda weird, no?” Nanami said, and it’s seemingly enough to quell Nobara’s curiosity. Riku wondered what Nanami’s past relationships were like. He never talked about those things with her.

Nobara nodded, “Fair, fair. Okay, you’re up next, Yu!”

Yu grabbed one of each card, reading them to the group, “Tell the group if you’ve ever cheated—or, take off the person’s shirt to the right of you with your teeth.” Yu glanced over at Maki to his right.

“Yu, if you so much as breathe on my fucking shirt…” Maki trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay! Okay. Then truth it is. Hm…” He pretended to think to himself, stroking his chin comically, “Cheat? Tokyo Yakuza men don’t cheat!” He answered, a shit-eating grin on his face that was anything but honest and truthful.

“They sure don’t!” Nanami’s friend grinned from the opposite side, temporarily standing to high-five Yu.

“Oh my god, seriously??” Momo complained, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, you guys fucking suck.” Nobara groaned, visibly agitated from hearing that annoying, too-often said phrase.

“Two shots for both of you!” Maki raised a finger commandingly.

“Alright, sorry girls! And say less, Maki.” Yu quickly finished the liquid remaining in his glass before pouring both him and Nanami’s friend double-shots – to which they then clinked glasses and downed their shots without a second thought. It was almost scary how easily they were able to drink them without so much as making a strained or uncomfortable face.

“Maki’s next!” Nobara cheered from across the table, clapping her hands a few times.

Maki reached forward, grabbing a card from each pile before flipping them over on the table, “Tell everyone about the first time you came, or kiss the person across from you for 10 seconds… with tongue.” Maki looked up from the cards, glancing up to find Momo on the other side—who blushed and glanced away after hearing the words, “You wanna?” Maki asked her, not even flinching.

“Hey, is that even a fair dare since you like girls?” Nobara asked Maki, who doesn’t pay attention to her. She kept her eyes on Momo.

“Okay, sure!” Momo decided nervously, looking back at Maki with a shy, slightly embarrassed look.

Both girls leaned over the table, and Yu turned his wrist to look at his watch for a second, “I can time you two…” He grins.

Maki, completely unphased, rose her arms to hold Momo’s small face in her hands; she brought her lips to Momo’s, immediately breaking into a deep, passion-filled kiss while a few others around the table cheered. Even Riku was a little caught off guard by how expertly Maki moved her lips on Momo’s, blinking and smirking a bit to the sight of her friend controlling the pace of it and exploring Momo’s mouth at a steady rhythm. Maki barely talked about her own dates and relationships, too, so Riku didn’t think Maki was the type to have so much experience.

“Time!” Yu shouted from over his watch, “Sorry, couldn’t help but stare so it was more like 15 seconds.” He chuckled.

Maki and Momo broke their kiss as soon as Yu spoke, both glaring at him in response before sitting back on their respective couches.

“Wow, that was… spicy.” With alcohol in her system, Riku confidently said the words everyone else was thinking silently in their heads.

“Very.” Nanami’s friend added on, nodding his head in agreement.

“Ri-Ri’s next!” Nobara shouted.

Riku slid a single card from the top of each of the two piles and reads them off, “Share two names from the group that you’d have a threesome with, or… do an erotic dance for the person right across from you for a minute.” Riku looked up and locked eyes with the person right across from her at the table. Nanami. She grins devilishly, “Well, you know which one I have to do, don’t you?”

Nanami facepalmed his hand over his face, dragging it down but unable to conceal the hint of a smirk on his lips, “Seriously, Ri?”

“Seriously, Ken. Come on, let’s take it to the dancefloor.” Riku rose from the couch, “Yu—can you change the music to something more… fitting?”

He pulled out his phone with a matching grin, scrolling through it for a second, “Sure can.”

“Yay, Riku’s dancing!” Nobara applauded in excitement.

Nanami’s other friend pulled Nanami to his feet, and the group made their way back to the area where the bar and dancefloor were. Yu put a heavy chair in the center of the dancefloor and suddenly changed the music from chill hip hop to a sexy, slow R&B tune. The friend pushed Nanami to sit down on it and Nanami raked a hand through his blonde hair as he looked at Riku standing in front of him.

A bit of a circle is made as a few folks who hadn’t been playing the game moved towards the dancefloor to see what was going on. Nobara and Momo cheered from the side of the floor and others joined in with a few hoots of their own.

With liquid confidence on her side and her experience as a dancer, Riku stepped forward to brush her index over Nanami’s chin. She winked, “You’re going to enjoy this.” Nanami’s eyes widened in response, and Riku backed up before she started to dance.

Riku recognized the song and used that to her advantage, starting with a slow strut. She smoothed her hands over her curves as she walked, pausing on time with the clicks of the song’s beat before turning, and taking every opportunity to look back at Nanami seated on the chair in front of her as she moved. Riku turned again, then slowly rubbed her hands down her legs before falling into a full split—to which a number of folks cheered. She threw her ass up, then back down in the position, and turned over to work the floor, tastefully rolling her back into an arch and kicking her legs up in the air as she did so.

Nanami shook his head, but smiled, unable to tear his gaze from Riku’s body as she skillfully pushed up off the floor, rising to her feet once more. She sharply bended at the waist, whipping her long, jet black hair over, along with her straightened back. She locked eyes with Nanami when she looked back this time, smoothing her hand over her ass. Riku then slowly dropped into a squat, popping her butt to one side before rolling her ass back up to a standing position. She gyrated her hips from side to side when the chorus of the song started to finish, then moved them forward to back, ending her little dance with another split.

Riku heard her friends and others shout and whoop loudly when she stood up again but she didn’t pay attention to them. She instead kept her eyes locked on Nanami’s widened ones; it was obvious that he was clearly trying to keep his composure, his fingers pressed to his lips. She enticingly strutted over to the man once more, only stopping when she was right in front of him to bend at the waist and peck his cheek with a kiss, “Happy Birthday, Ken.” She purred into his ear, before leaving him alone on his chair.

~ 00:17 ~

Riku wiped her hands on the hand towel in the guest bathroom after washing her hands… All the wings and alcohol and cake had definitely caught up with her stomach, but, though very tipsy, she surprisingly still felt pretty good and in control of herself—both physically and mentally. That said, instead of exiting the bathroom and heading back toward the party room in the basement, she made a different turn and walked toward the mansion’s main kitchen, sure that Yu had some ginger ale or ginger beer that she could drink to settle her stomach a little more.

She blinked a few times and froze when she found Nanami there, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island with a pint of pistachio ice cream and a spoon in his hands, “Kento? What are you doing here?”

“Ice cream break.” He shortly explained, raising his spoon in the air as he spoke.

Riku hummed interestingly, making a beeline for the fridge and opening the silver double doors to scan its contents. She could understand Nanami wanting to take a break from everyone at the party; he was pretty introverted, after all.

“You?”

Riku was silent while she looked through the fridge, and only responded to Nanami when she found what she was looking for, “Aha!” She grabbed a can of ginger ale from the random mess of canned drinks in the door, showing it to Nanami, “Upset stomach remedy!” She beamed giddily.

“I told you to take it easy on the alcohol.” Nanami noted, prodding his spoon in her direction as he spoke before taking another spoonful.

“I’m fine!” Riku cracked the can, taking a long series of sips from it until it’s nearly done. She burped, “Whew, ‘scuse me.” She giggled to herself.

“You’re drunk.”

“No I’m not!” Riku yelled a bit loudly in the otherwise quiet kitchen, besides the loud music that blared from the floor below. She walked over to Nanami at the kitchen island then paused, “If I was drunk, could I do this?” She planted her feet in the floor, grounding herself in a slight squat and curving her arms in front of her, ballet-style. Riku then abruptly spun herself in a series of four pirouettes, before gently stopping and resting her previously raised foot back on the ground.

“Knowing you, probably.”

Riku grumbled, settling to sit down on the stool next to Nanami’s. She suddenly smirked slyly, scooting closer to him a bit with her next words, “Did you like your birthday dance?” She asked in a breathy, seductive voice.

Nanami huffed out a single chuckle, looking into the empty space before him before returning his gaze to Riku, “You seriously asking me this right now?”

“Yes…” She faced and playfully poked Nanami’s shoulder a few times then continued, “…cause if you didn’t, I can give you a better one…” She cooed, obviously flirting.

“It was good, Ri. Really good.” Nanami said with a calm yet unplaced expression on his face, continuing to hold eye contact with Riku, “I guess I should say thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Riku said confidently, face gleaming with her bright smile. She eyed Nanami as he took another bite of the pistachio ice cream and she suddenly leaned over, only mere centimeters away from him when she spoke up again, “Ice cream me.”

Nanami gave the other an honest chuckle before answering, “No.”

“Please…?” She batted her eyes at Nanami, pouting her lips a bit to plead with the man.

He sighed, beginning to scoop another spoonful of the pastel, green-colored ice cream, “Fine, Ri.” He held the spoon out in front of her mouth, and Riku took her time wrapping her lips around the ice cream and metal utensil, tilting her head back to pull her mouth off of it and revealing the now clean piece of silverware. Nanami’s eyes followed each movement, gaze darkening with heat at the innocent yet simultaneously lewd nature of Riku’s actions.

Riku stilled all of a sudden, eyes shamelessly gazing over Nanami’s handsome face and toned body. She couldn’t help but admire his outfit again, especially appreciating how the top buttons were undone to reveal a little more of his chest. Her eyes floated down to Nanami’s hands, and she thought about how they had both innocently and protectively touched her countless times over the past few years—patting her head to tease or praise her, wrapping around her waist to pull her out of the less-than-favorable predicaments she’d always found herself in, wiping her tears away after her bad break-ups—she wanted to know what his touch would feel like when trying to please her. She blushed at her own thoughts, and Nanami noticed.

“What, Ri?” He spoke the words more like a statement than a question.

“You look nice.” Riku smiled softly, snaking her hand down Nanami’s shoulder to rest on the stretch of his bicep as she sat face to face with him.

“Thank you.” Nanami said softly, simply because they were so close to one another.

“You should wear more clothes like that.”

“You think so?”

“I think I like you.”

“What?”

Before Nanami can say anything else, Riku pressed her lips to his, arms moving to rest on each of the blonde’s strong shoulders.

He dropped the spoon and pint, and they clattered onto the kitchen floor. Nanami sharply inhaled through his nose, shifting to hold Riku’s reddened cheeks in his hands before swiftly deepening their kiss. Riku appreciated how natural it felt—Nanami’s lips moving on hers—how easy it was for them to mutually set a rhythm. Nanami bit Riku’s lower lip between kisses, tugging it down with his teeth to make her open up her mouth a little bit more, to let his tongue in a little bit more… to let him deepen their connection a little bit more, “Shit.”

Riku pulled back to stop for a moment, looking between Nanami’s eyes as she felt a light flutter in her chest and a warmth below her navel. She finally reunited their mouths, this time maneuvering herself onto Nanami’s lap and fully pressing her body against his.

“Ri,” Nanami managed between their strong, passionate kisses that were quickly turning more and more lewd and open-mouthed, “Stop…”

“No.” She refused, hands getting lost and tangled in his hair as she makes out with the man intensely.

“You’re drunk,” He said, reluctantly squeezing Riku’s ass with his hands, beside himself. He couldn’t help it; he’d wanted to have Riku like this since the day he’d met her two years ago.

“’M not…” She hummed out, darting her tongue over Nanami’s lower lip before continuing to kiss him deeply. Nanami’s hands smoothed up her sides and she moaned, shifting her hips forward to grind into his.

He broke their kiss to moan lowly at the command of Riku’s hips, “Fuck, don’t do this to me, Ri…” He cursed again when his dick twitched beneath the confines of his khaki slacks.

Riku pressed her forehead to Nanami’s, beginning to roll her hips into his at in a slow rhythm. She rode his clothed erection, body even warmer from all the whisky she’d drank. Riku felt hot between her legs, and wanted Nanami to take care of it—just like he always took care of everything else. She didn’t let up on her grinding and started to breathe heavier as she felt his dick grow beneath his pants, “Tell me you love me.” She softly moaned, just above a whisper.

Nanami lowered his hands to Riku’s ass and hips once more, “I love you.” The words were easy to say, the man had confessed them more than a few times to her over the past two years, “I fucking love you, Ri… Which is why I need you to stop. You’re drunk.” Even as he spoke the words, his voice was heavy with arousal.

“But I need you—”

Nanami grabbed Riku’s hips, harshly bringing them to a halt, “I said, fucking stop!”

Riku jerks back in shock at the sound of Nanami’s voice; the man hardly ever rose his voice, and she’d never heard him yell like this. Not at her, at least. Nanami looked serious… seriously angry, and the way his dark, pained eyes stared daggers into her soul made her chest sink in a way she’d never experienced before.

“I’m sick of you playing with me, Riku. Now get the fuck off me and get the fuck out of here.”

The heaviness in Riku’s chest grew greater and greater and stung as she realized she’d been hurting Nanami all this time with the way she’d acted towards him. She felt tears try to push their way out of her eyes, but she was somehow able to hold them back. Was this what the mix of guilt and rejection felt like? Riku stumbled off of Nanami’s lap and onto her feet. She wanted to apologize—for everything, “I’m so—”

“Just go.” He didn’t even look in her eyes as he waved her off.

Riku rushes from the kitchen, just barely able to get out of its opening before tears began to roll from her eyes. She didn’t go to the bathroom, or back downstairs, but instead headed straight for the front door. A sob chokes its way from her throat when she’s outside, and she clasped a hand over her mouth at the sound. She falls down to the grass on her hands and knees, unable to prevent the steady streams of tears that fell from her eyes.

Riku was so sorry. She’d never thought that her years of playful flirting had affected Nanami, but it was such a simple connection to make. How did I miss that? Why didn’t I consider his feelings more?

Riku felt like a monster. Sure, she’d started to like Nanami, but he was her friend, first and foremost. She couldn’t forgive herself for hurting her friend like this. She never wanted to do it ever again. She never wanted to feel this heavy, painful burning in her chest—it was a feeling that ran through her body and made her feel disgusting, like she needed to throw up.

Riku knew Nanami. She knew him and she knew that he would more than likely ask her in the morning if she’d remembered anything from last night.

And Riku decided that she would say no.

chapter endnotes: originally posted this to AO3 a few weeks ago on Nanami's birthday, 7/3! This was such a fun chapter to write.

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 3: Sex, Drugs & Toxic Affiliations

ch. 1 | ch. 2 chapter word count: 13k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba-

fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Gojo sits at the center of the Table of 15 Families, a massive circular structure of a table that’s white statuary marble flat is intricately polished and lined with small bronze and silver squares. It’s a place that only each of the leaders of the Tokyo families can touch, and an emergency meeting between all the clans had been called due to Toji’s uprising with a third of the Zenin clan’s men.

He leans back in the uncomfortable chair made of similar materials as the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares across the room at the family leaders currently seated at the table – most of which are from lower rank clans, of course. He usually appreciates them for their their timeliness; as the higher-ranked Zenin, Kamo, Inumaki, and Fujiwara clan leaders were always fashionably late; but today he’s pissed. And understandably so, as his home as well as the entirety of the Tokyo Yakuza had been threatened.

Gojo taps his pointer finger on his opposite bicep out of impatience, currently dressed in a black dress shirt, black slacks, and black combat boots. It’s the kind of yakuza getup that mostly serves one purpose – concealing blood stains.

Geto sits at his side in the 2nd rank seat, arms similarly crossed but eyes closed as both him and his friend had not gotten any sleep since they’d dropped Riku off at the Ozaki residence. They’d been up working, of course, designing a plan to retaliate against Toji and the Zenin clan. Though Toji had gone off the grid and was unable to be found in the early hours of the morning, at least not by their folks, Gojo and Geto had decided to take action and wasted no time using the strength of their clans to stage and carry out attacks on the Zenin clan’s properties.

Just then, the Zenin clan leader, Naobito – who had shoulder-length gray hair and a pointed mustache, storms their meeting room in a fit of rage. Geto opens his eyes, narrowing them at the man currently entering.

Gojo smirks to the look on his face. At least he has the Zenin leader’s anguish to be happy about.

“Three warehouses?!?!!” Naobito wears an ivory kimono and black hakama, screaming the words as he approaches Gojo.

Gojo and Geto’s retaliation had come in the form of destroying three of the seven warehouses where the Zenin clan built and stored the illegal weapons they sold, just a few short hours ago. With the entire Tokyo Yakuza syndicate outraged by last night’s attack, it was fairly easy for Gojo and Geto to band their forces together and burn the warehouses to the ground. Gojo rises from his seat, wickedly grinning at Naobito as the older man strides directly to him.

Naobito grabs handfuls of Gojo’s black shirt, balling it up as he grits his teeth at the other, “How fucking dare you! You’re going to pay for this!!!” He spits between clenched teeth.

Gojo easily pushes the man a few steps back with a single movement of his muscular arms, then returns them to their crossed state, still smirking but expression brimming with anger, “What? Did you think I would just stand by while a third of your men destroy my property?” He leans over a bit so he is eye-level with the man, facial expression turning into one of hardened rage, “You really think I wouldn’t make you all pay for that?”

“That wasn’t our doing – it was Toji’s, you bastard! Those factories and facilities will take months to restore!!!” Naobito explains, angered but simultaneously aware of Gojo’s power… He doesn’t want to upset the man even more than he already is.

Gojo is able to calm down just slightly at Naobito’s words, shrugging, “Not my problem. If you’d kept Toji and your men under control, none of this would’ve happened. Plus, how do I know this isn’t some scheme of your clan to destroy me?”

Naobito has no sufficient answer and turns with a grunt, moving to sit in the 3rd rank seat on the other side of Geto, “You disrespectful, piece of shit…” He grumbles under his breath.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve, Naobito… Seeing how every clan in this room was impacted by what members of your clan did last night.” Geto joins the conversation, pissed and sleep deprived. He wears a deep brown suit and white button-up, the toned muscles of his back and arms just barely contained by the expensive fabric that is noticeably dusted with the black ash of explosives they’d used to destroy Naobito’s warehouses.

“Where’s Toji?” The only other white-haired yakuza enters the room and takes a seat in the 6th rank chair. He’s much younger than most in the room as he’s only 21 years old, and is a bit shorter than most as well. His hair that usually has small spikes in it is currently in a straight, bowl cut – his choice of high-end streetwear over a suit especially telling to his age. The inumaki clan business consists of finding, controlling, and selling insider information regarding any and all business trading markets, politics, and even celebrity relationships in Tokyo.

“Long time, so see, Toge.” Gojo smiles, returning to his seat at the table once more.

“We don’t know.” Naobito answers as honestly as he can, “We’ve been tracking him for hours and still, nothing. We’re still looking.”

Not acknowledging Gojo, Toge glares at the Zenin leader in silence for a moment, then speaks up again, “He’s telling the truth, unfortunately.” He concludes with a sigh. It’s one thing he’s sure of as he’s dealt with liars his entire life.

“Well, you better find him quick. I have personal business with that man and would like to see him dead.”

The clan leaders currently seated turn their heads as Jin Ozaki speaks, entering the room in a tan suit and buzz cut. He’s the last member to join them, and sits down in the 10th rank chair, noticeably angered and stressed by this predicament, “Sorry I’m late. It appears that Toji has gotten in contact with my niece this morning via phone.”

All eyes around the table widen to this information, and Gojo and Geto exchange a look.

“Do you have her phone?” Noritoshi Kamo speaks up from his 5th rank chair – leader of the clan that deals in illegal tech and machinery. He wears a long, black kimono with gold embroidery.

Jin retrieves a black iPhone from his pocket and slides it across the table to Noritoshi, “Got it from her before I left home.”

Noritoshi slips the phone into the sleeve of his kimono, “We’ll do what we can to trace the location of where the call came from. Toji’s actions are unacceptable and he must be killed for the atrocities he continues to commit.”

“I’m sorry, your daughter?” The Okamoto family leader, Haruki, asks from his 12 rank seat – an older man in a gray suit who leans forward to this information that’s new to him. The Okamoto clan directs the black market of car trading, racing, and illegal car importing in Tokyo.

“Yes, seems like she got in some trouble with Toji last night and hit him where it hurts.” Jin clears his throat.

“That’s one way to put it.” Gojo chuckles.

“Where is she now?” Geto asks.

“Working.” Jin replies plainly, “We still have businesses to run, but I’ve hired more men to protect her in the meantime. And I doubt Toji is dumb enough to strike in broad daylight.”

A few around the table make noises of agreement, and there’s silence for a moment.

“I did receive a written message an hour ago, about Toji’s demands…” Noritoshi admits.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before, fucking geezer?!” Gojo asks, irritated, “The fuck does he want?”

“100 million…” Naobito says, deciding to ignore Gojo's name-calling this time around before moving his gaze to Jin, “…and he says he’ll cease his attacks for a week, if we hand him your niece.”

A rage brews in Jin Ozaki and he’s hardly able to contain it, hands shaking for a second, “You expect me, to give away my family…?!!” His hands tighten into fists on the flat of the table.

“I’m just repeating the message I received. And if less attacks mean less people being hurt or kille-”

“Then, what? My niece’s life is worth it?!?!!”

“That’s not an option.” Gojo interrupts, strangely calm, “Plus, a week is hardly any time. That offer is honestly just disrespectful to your family’s worth, Jin.”

“So what do we do now?” Haruki Okamoto questions outright.

“Well, that’s what we’re here for.” Gojo smirks before glancing over at his friend, “Geto and I have a plan.”

*

Riku sits across from two of her best friends, Nobara and Maki, who always had lunch together on Fridays at one of their favorite cafés that was locationally at the center of all three of their workplaces in the city. She’d told Maki and Nobara what happened with Toji the night prior, including that he’d called and threatened her this morning.

“Oh, so that’s why you didn’t pick up earlier…” Maki nods to herself, a bit stunned from hearing this information.

“Mhm.” Riku finishes her bite of the mixed greens salad she’d ordered before responding, “Got a new one on my way to work, though,” she retrieves it from her purse and unlocks it before placing it on the wooden table between the three of them, “so put your numbers in please.”

Nobara is in complete shock, “Are you insane?” She asks with a horrified expression on her face, her fork of fluffy cheesecake poked in Riku’s direction, “You kicked Toji in the balls?!” Nobara picks up Riku’s phone, regardless, beginning to navigate to her contacts.

Maki shrugs, “I mean, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it,” she takes a sip of her iced green tea.

“See? Maki gets it.” Riku smirks, “But then again, you are the baby of our group.”

Nobara rolls her eyes, “I’m only two years younger than you both… 23 is not that young, okay!”

“Oh, and you’re still an idiot, Riku – I’m just saying I get why you did that.” Maki says, taking the phone from Nobara once the other is finished entering her number and beginning to do the same.

“Yeah, like, do you want to die?!” Nobara shouts.

Riku shushes her, holding a finger to her mouth as there were other patrons in the café, and Nanami was only seated a few tables away, sipping from a mug of black coffee. She glances across the room, only to find that the blond man’s eyes were still trained on her. She sighs dramatically, “Ugh, he’s so annoying…” She trails off.

Maki follows Riku’s gaze to find Nanami at the other end of it, then turns back to her once more, “I’m guessing Jin upped your protection as a result?”

“Yeah,” Riku groans, dropping her head into her hands, “there’s even three of our muscle outside.”

“Yikes. And the guards follow you everywhere?” Nobara leans in, asking in a quieter voice.

Riku drops her hands from her face, sitting upright once more, “Yes. Kento even stood outside the door when I used the bathroom at work earlier.”

“Ew.” Maki says plainly, “That seems excessive.”

“That’s what I said!” Riku whisper-yells.

“Maybe it isn’t, I mean you’ve all heard the news, right? Gojo destroyed a bunch of the Zenin clan’s property in retaliation this morning, so they kind of have every right to be angry with Gojo and anyone seen with him – i.e. you.” Nobara says just above a whisper as she stares directly at Riku.

Maki jumps in, “Well, they don’t have every right, but since Riku humiliated Toji like that, I can understand why him and his men would be after her.”

Riku’s eyes light up when she recalls an important bit of last night’s story that she hadn’t told her friends yet. She suddenly grins, leaning in and lowering her voice when she speaks up again, “You won’t believe what happened before Satoru and Suguru took me home, though.”

“Oh my god, what?” Nobara mirrors Riku’s expression, grinning back at her with intrigue.

Riku glances between her two friends with her next words, “So we stopped somewhere to eat on the way back because I was hungry, right?”

“Mhm,” Maki nods along.

“And so, we went to Chinatown and had this really good dim sum and roasted duck, but these guys were being super secretive about shit and kept, like, whispering to each other mid-conversation, and even left me completely alone at the table at one point to meet in some room in the back of the restaurant,”

“…okay,” Maki says, nodding to the waiter who sets a plate with her ham and cheese croissant sandwich down on the table before departing to help another party.

“Probably were planning the clan revenge shit.” Nobara adds, taking a bite of her cheesecake.

“and so obviously I had to go see what they were up to.” Riku explains.

“You didn’t, but sure,” Maki takes a bite of her sandwich while Nobara nods in agreement.

“And so, they caught me snooping around…” Riku clears her throat, speaking her next words just above a whisper, “…and one thing led to the next and, Suguru kind of ate me out while Satoru talked me through it.” She finishes, shyly looking down and scratching the back of her head.

Maki chokes on her sandwich with a loud cough, hitting her chest a few times before she’s able to swallow and then speaks again, “Bitch-”

Nobara stops eating and her jaw drops, “You’re fucking kidding me. Wait – both of them were there?! At the same time?!?!” She whispers the questions.

Riku nods, biting her bottom lip to hold back a grin.

“How did you…?!” Maki starts, then stops herself, “Riku, bitch…” she pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “now why the hell would you get mixed up with those two in that way, of all people?!!”

“I know, I know, they’re big, scary, dangerously powerful guys—”

“The biggest, scariest, most dangerously powerful yakuza in Tokyo!” Nobara jumps in, clarifying Riku’s statement.

“—but they’re also so hot.” Riku whines out.

“Well, yeah, but still – are you fucking crazy?!” Maki whispers, now fully understanding Nobara’s point of view from earlier in their conversation.

Riku inhales slowly before speaking, “They’re not so bad. To be honest, I think they’re a bit overrated when it comes to the whole scary thing. I mean, these are the same guys who’re trying to keep peace between the clans! Doesn’t having the ability to be extremely scary and powerful kinda come with the job description?”

Maki sighs, “Yes, but getting caught between those two also means you getting stuck in all their yakuza drama, violence, and craziness… You do know that, right?”

Riku pauses for a few seconds, breaking her gaze to look up in thought, “Yeah, I can see how that could be a bad thing.” She grits her teeth at her next thought, and Nobara immediately catches on.

“Fuck, Riku. What else?” Nobara asks, perplexed.

“I kind of might have a date with Suguru tonight at his clan’s onsen…?” She winces as she says the words, returning her gaze to her friends.

“Bitch…” Nobara drops her fork entirely, allowing it to clatter onto the wooden table. She runs both of her hands through her short, ginger hair, visibly stressed, “Drug lord Suguru, of all people?! I almost would’ve preferred if you said Satoru, but apparently that guy’s really insane.”

Riku smiles, “Suguru’s so sweet, though! At least from what I can tell so far. He’s a total gentleman; and you’re right, Satoru is kind of an egotistical asshole and talks a lot of shit. But he’s also not so bad.”

“Takes one to know one.” Maki notes, taking another bite from her sandwich.

Riku chuckles lightly, “Please, I’m not that bad! Confident, sure, but you don’t get anywhere in our world without that – it’s the bare minimum for survival.”

Maki curves the corners of her lips down and cocks her head to one side in a contemplative look that says, ‘I hadn’t considered that before,’ “I guess you have a point.” She can agree with that, at least, “Just be really careful, alright? And call us if you need us.”

Riku runs a hand through her long curls, “I don’t even know how this bodyguard thing would work with me over there, and he doesn’t have my new number after the Toji shit that happened this morning, so who knows – maybe I won’t be able to go after all.”

Nobara claps a few times, “Yay!” She fake cheers, “This is your chance to escape the date and never talk to him or Satoru ever again!”

“Well, that’s not exactly realistic, but it could work temporarily.” Maki puts her sandwich down, “Who knows, maybe they’ll get preoccupied with all this yakuza clan craziness and forget you for a little.”

“I don’t know,” Riku slightly puts her hands up in mock-surrender, “I am a pretty memorable bitch.” She admits with a small grin.

*

“One, two, three and four… Five, six, seven, eight and…” Riku counts through the short routine she’d just spent the past hour teaching her last intermediate-advanced level pole class of the day, her hips and legs easily gliding through the slow sequence of turns, spins, and elevated holds. She continues to count even through the inverted moves, her upside down body only held in the air above the ground by her thighs’ grip on the pole or the strength of her arms. She solely wears a black sports bra and spandex shorts, as more skin allows her to hold herself up on the pole a lot easier. The routine ends with a pirouette around the pole and a reverse body roll, and when Riku is done, she turns back to face the six women on the individual poles behind her, “Are we ready to do it with music?”

The girls chorus a ‘yes,’ and Riku walks over to her bag in the front of the room, retrieving the new phone from her pocket to turn on some music, “Let’s do the routine a final time, then freestyle a little, okay? Now five, six, seven, eight…”

Riku allows herself to get lost in the music, taking her time with each movement as it’s a slow ballad, much unlike the faster paced hip hop and R&B songs she usually plays for her pole dancing classes. Her hips, back, and shoulders roll smoothly with every move she makes, a kind of ease that’s only earned with years of practice. Riku incorporates a bit of floor work into her freestyling near the end of the song, ending with a slide into a floor bridge. She pops onto her knees when the song finishes, applauding her students who join in to clap with her, “Nice work, ladies!”

It isn’t until after she sits up that she spots an additional figure standing next to Nanami just on the other side of the glass wall that splits the back of the pole room from the hallway—Geto. He wears a black suit and black gloves. Riku feels her face redden and removes her gaze from the man that had obviously been watching her, instead turning to walk back towards her duffle bag that has her sweats in it. She slips into the loose gray pants and matching long-sleeve crop top crewneck sweater, bending over to zip up her bag and step into her plain, green-colored cushioned slides.

As she exits the room, Riku waves to the group of ladies who are at various stages of putting back on their outerwear and shoes, “Thanks for coming! See you all next time.” She smiles, turning her attention to the long-haired man once she’s on the other side of the door, “Suguru? What are you doing here?”

“Here to pick you up for our date, of course.” He gazes down at Riku, offering her a wink.

Nanami sighs, obviously not thrilled about having to speak his next words, “There’s been an update, you’re staying in Suguru’s territory for a few days – Jin’s orders.”

Riku quirks a brow, “Suguru’s territory? Why? And wait, Uncle Jin decided this?”

“It was Satoru’s idea, actually. Jin just agreed.” Geto clarifies, smiling.

“As much as I hate the idea,” Nanami glares at Geto, “and I do fucking despise this idea,” he glances back to Riku, “it is the safest place for you to be right now. The Ozaki estate is too much of a hot spot and it’d be easy to hit… And Suguru’s clan is the only one with territory in Tokyo’s mountains that’s more difficult to get to with its elevation and web-like network of underground tunnels and roads. And he has a lot more muscle and trained guards who could protect you.”

Riku blinks up at Geto, “And why do you have a web of tunnels underneath your property?” Riku looks genuinely confused.

“Easier to ship product that way.”

Right, of course. Geto’s clan handles the underground drug market, underground in more ways than one it seems… Riku nods with understanding.

Geto turns to Nanami, “Don’t worry, Nanami,” he reaches out to tug Riku by her wrist, easily pulling her into his arm, “I’ll take good care of Riku.”

Riku blushes, a bit uncomfortable about the weird relationship triangle she currently finds herself in, “Well then, I guess I’ll see you in a few, Ken?” Geto releases Riku from his arm and she gives Nanami a hug.

Nanami hugs her back tightly, then grasps her chin after they let go of each other, staring down at Riku with an expression that contains a mix of concern, care, possessiveness, and unmistakably – love, “Call me if you need anything. Okay?” He says low, just loud enough that she can hear.

Riku nods.

“You ready, beautiful?” Geto asks, before taking the duffle bag from her hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Riku says, a little caught off guard by this recent turn of events, “wish I’d brought some clothes with me.”

“I’ll send some men to pick some stuff up for you.” He says, pressing his free hand to the small of her back as they pass the front desk and begin to approach the main entrance to the studio.

“Okay, but I don’t want a bunch of guys snooping through my underwear drawer. Do you have any ladies you can send?”

Geto chuckles, “I’ll send some ladies, then. Fair?”

Riku remembers something and turns to Nanami, “Oh, do you know if the wall remodeling guys finished upstairs?”

“They just left. Paint crew will be in tomorrow.” He replies, eyes not on Riku but instead glaring at the hand Geto has on her back.

“Thank god,” Riku sighs in relief, “I’ll be back tomorrow to check it out, okay?”

Nanami nods, folding his hands behind his back as he sees the two of them off when they exit the front door of the studio.

“Bye, Ken!” Riku waves, and Nanami returns the gesture.

Theres four men outside in similar black suits smoking cigarettes, and when Geto cocks his head towards the parking area they split into pairs, two of them each unlocking and entering the two identical dark gray BMW X5 SUVs on either side of a different car.

Riku figures that the car in the middle is Geto’s, as he clicks a button on his key and the trunk door lifts open for him to place her duffle. It’s an all-black Mercedes AMG G63, and Riku tries to contain her excitement as she’d always wanted to have a G-Wagon of her own, “Nice ride.” She notes, visibly perking up a bit.

“You like it?” Geto smirks at Riku, clicking the button once more so the trunk closes. He moves around the car, opening the passenger door and helping Riku into the seat, “It’s simple, but reliable.”

“If by simple you mean pricy, then yes.”

Geto chuckles as he closes her door, only responding when he slips in the drivers seat and starts the engine, “You think this is pricy? You sweet, summer, rank ten yakuza child.” He laughs.

Riku rolls her eyes, and their trio of cars pull out out of the dark side street, beginning to head toward Tokyo’s mountains.

Geto looks into his rear view mirror, shaking his head with a slightly apologetic look when he spots Nanami still watching them at a distance from outside the studio, until their SUVs are out of view, “Damn, he really loves you, huh?” Geto notes, “I kinda feel bad for the guy.”

“Don’t.” Riku says with a long breath, looking out the window at the passing street lights, “It’s not his fault that he feels that way about me, nor is it my fault that I don’t feel that way about him.”

Geto glances over, taking a good look at Riku before returning his eyes to the road, “It’s gotta suck for him, though.”

Riku meets Geto’s eyes briefly, “You think I don’t know that? That I don’t think about how it hurts him?”

There’s a beat of silence, and they both focus on the road ahead of them for a while.

“You two always just been friends? Nothing else ever happened?” Geto eventually asks.

“You ask all your dates shit like this?”

Geto chuckles, then shrugs, “Just curious. It’s not everyday you see a guy that love whipped for a girl he’s never been with.”

“We kissed once when I was tipsy,” Riku admits with a sigh, “I tried to have sex with him, too, but he stopped me. That was three years ago.”

Geto winces with a hint of a smirk on his lips, “Ooo, fuck, he’s a great guy. I mean I already knew he was, but damn.”

“It’s the bare fucking minimum.” Riku clarifies.

“True that,” Geto turns the truck onto a narrower street, following the SUV with the two guards in front of him onto the road that snakes up the mountain, “But it’s gotta suck. I mean imagine his point of view; you want this girl so fucking bad you’d do anything for her, and she usually never pays you any mind but all of a sudden she’s throwing herself at you. Of course you say no, but it’s still gotta sting like a motherfucker.”

Riku lifts her brows briefly before dropping them back down to their relaxed state, “Funny part is, I actually wasn’t that drunk.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

Geto glances at Riku with a small look of surprise, then back to the road, “No fucking way.” He grins, “So you actually wanted him that night?”

“Yeah. But don’t tell him that, though. You gotta promise me, okay?”

Geto frees one of his gloved hands from the steering wheel to cross an ‘X’ over his heart and lifts his hand in the air, “I swear, Ri. But fuck…” He laughs, “So all this time he’s thought you were drunk, but you really did want him, too? Oh, this is some tragic shit, Ri! This is my friend we’re talking about, here…”

“I know, but he can’t know.”

Geto nods once, “So let me get this straight – that night, you’re all over him, but he keeps pushing you away because he thinks you’re drunker than you really are?”

“Yeah, basically.” Riku sighs.

“That’s fucking heartbreaking!” Geto guffaws, “But what changed? Couldn’t you’ve just told him how you felt when you were sober?”

“After that night, I didn’t feel the same. We were friends and I didn’t wanna ruin that with sex or anything like that. I still don’t. Plus…” Riku trails off, unsure if she should say what she plans to say next.

“Plus?”

“Plus, to be honest, I knew I could never give him what he wanted – for me to love him back. I didn’t want to get his hopes up for something that was never going to happen.” Riku finishes.

“How do you know that for sure?”

“Know what?”

“That you could never love him?”

“I’ve fallen in love before, with different people and… You just know. I mean, don’t you?”

“Sure, I get what you mean,” Geto chuckles under his breath, “not really much of the romance type, though.” Geto admits, turning the wheel of the car smoothly, gently accelerating the car as they began to hit a steeper incline in the mountain.

“Really?” Riku asks, honestly surprised, “I mean I know what Satoru said about you both not doing the whole relationship thing, and I can definitely see him not being a romantic but, not you?”

Geto turns to look at Riku briefly, smirking lightly, “What makes you think I'm the romantic type?”

“Everything. The way you talk, your whole chivalry thing, the way you touch... Everything about the way you act, at least towards me, so far, has been pretty romantic.”

“You like that, don’t you?” Geto grins, returning his eyes to the road while reaching over to slide his hand over Riku’s thigh; he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s nice,” Riku admits with a small smile, glancing out the window, “But you’re not a romantic?” She turns back to Geto.

“Furthest thing from it, beautiful. I’m just really good at knowing how to make you feel good.”

“Me? I’m guessing all people you're trying to please at the moment are included in 'me?'” Riku questions.

Geto makes sure to look Riku in the eyes with the next of his words, hand pushing up her leg and to her inner thigh, “You’re the only one here, Ri.” Geto’s gaze is so straightforward and intimate that it would’ve tugged on Riku’s heartstrings if she was just a few years younger and still immature when it came to these things.

Riku suddenly breaks their shared heated gaze, chuckling a bit to herself, “Like that?”

“Just like that.” He confirms, looking back at the road with eyes completely devoid of the feigned emotions he’d acted out just moments prior.

“Wow,” Riku claps her hands a few times, genuinely impressed, “bravo. And that’s fun for you?”

“Sure. It allows me to be in control.” Geto replies, his tone a bit clinical.

“I can understand that. I mean it’s kinda fucking twisted, but in an unexpectedly sweet way.” Riku thinks aloud.

“I sell drugs, beautiful. Never promised anyone I was a good guy.”

“And that absolves you of responsibility for any hearts you may break in the process?”

Geto pauses, and makes an expression hinting that he may or may not have thought too hard on this prior to now, “It doesn’t.”

Riku doesn’t know if it’s an answer, or rather, an admission of guilt. She doesn’t ask for clarification about that, and instead asks a different question, “What about you and Satoru?”

Geto moves his hand from Riku’s thighs, sitting up as he returns it to the steering wheel. Touchy subject, huh? Riku thinks, wondering if he’s even aware of his body language in this moment, “Satoru Gojo is… a completely different monster.”

“No pun intended.” Riku adds.

Geto laughs, “Exactly.”

“But seriously, what’s the deal with you two?”

“Hmm… It’s hard to put in words but, I’d die a thousand times for Satoru.” Geto says, completely straight faced.

“So you love him?” Riku can’t help her curiosity.

Geto shakes his head, “That’s such a… bullshit, flimsy-ass word. What Satoru and I have goes much deeper-”

“In your opinion.” Riku interjects.

Geto laughs once, continuing to look at the road, “Ri, you don’t know fucking shit… Seriously.”

She raises her hands in mock-surrender, “Alright, so let’s go with your definition. But what does that mean for the two of you?”

“It means, we share everything that matters.”

“Fascinating answer.” Riku says, her tone of voice a bit dramatic but still completely honest in her response. She doesn’t know if she’s more or less confused by Geto’s answer, but ponders on it for a moment in silence, “Whew, this conversation deserves a drink. Maybe a good meal, too.”

“Baby, this is still the shallow end of it all.” Geto chuckles, slowing down their speed a bit as they reached a flattened peak in the the mountain. Suddenly, a large collection of buildings and their lights glow in the far distance; even in the bright light of the setting sun, Riku catches when they pass a few ‘onsen’ signs.

“Really?” Riku raises her brows.

“Really.” He smirks, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Riku turns to Geto with an unconvinced look, “Is this an I’m-acting-nice-so-I-can-make-you-compliant-and-be-in-control-and-reap-the-benefits-of-that kinda thing or are you seriously asking me because you want me to have whatever I want for dinner?”

“Mostly the former,” Geto says honestly, pulling into a private, reserved and underground garage that is separate from the one his guards drive into, “but I also don’t wanna hear it from Jin if you don’t eat and enjoy your stay while you’re here with me, so the latter, too. And I do cook a little.”

“Okay.” Riku nods with a smile, satisfied with Geto’s answer, “I’m in the mood for… kaisendon.”

Geto laughs, “Of course you are. Kaisendon. That’s easy; I can do that.” When the gates open, they pull into a vast, 18-car garage with all rare, expensive, new, and old sports cars.

“What do you mean, ‘of course I am?’” Riku asks,

Geto parks the G-Wagon in the only open space, then gets out to open up Riku’s door for her, “You girls and your seafood.” He shakes his head, helping her down from the truck. Geto then pops the trunk.

“Mr. Geto.” Riku doesn’t see or hear the two girls approach until they’re already there, right behind her in matching black suits. She quickly turns around. One of the girls has light brown hair that’s in a high bun, and the other has a black, shoulder-length bob. It’s easy to tell that they’re twins.

“Hey Nanako, Mimiko,” Geto gestures to Riku, “this is Riku.”

“Hi,” Riku waves to the two girls and smiles brightly, to which they only glare at her in response. Jeez, what is it that makes young people hate me?!

“Ozaki family.” The girl with the bun concludes, as if Riku’s family name is a multiple choice answer on a quiz.

“Ding, ding, ding! That’s right, Nanako. Now, can you organize some girls to grab some of her clothes from her family estate? Riku’s going to be staying with us for a few days. Mimiko, I need to to get all the ingredients for kaisendon and get them in the fridge at my house.” Geto removes Riku’s duffle from the trunk, handing it to Mimiko, “and put this in one of the guest bedrooms. Got it?” Geto asks, closing the trunk. The G-Wagon’s horn sounds a few times when he locks it.

Nanako looks like she’s trying to fight back a look of annoyance, “Isn’t the Ozaki estate like, an hour from here one way?” Her eyes narrow at Riku.

“Yes, it is. That a problem?” Geto asks.

The girls immediately straighten up, facial expressions quickly snapping out of their previously annoyed states in sync, “No, sir.” They say at the same time.

“Good. Now get going.”

The girls immediately spin on their heels, walking in different directions.

“Nice to meet you…?” Riku says but the girls pay her no mind, already far off in the distance.

Geto turns to Riku, “Don’t mind them. They hate any women I bring over… especially when they’re pretty.” He pauses before asking his next question, “You ever been in a trap house, beautiful?”

Riku shakes her head.

“Didn’t think so. I have some business things to handle quickly so quick rules: One. Don’t touch anything. Two. Don’t talk to me or anyone unless I say you can. And three. Put on the mask when I tell you to. Understand?”

“Got it.”

“I need your word, Ri.” Geto says seriously, leaning down so that they’re nearly face-to-face and holding the sides of Riku’s face with his hands.

“You have my word.” Riku says, starting to feel a little anxious.

Geto continues to hold and study Riku’s face, then presses his lips to hers in a deep kiss. He controls their pace and doesn’t pull away until he feels the tension begin to leave her body, “Relax, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles, then drops a hand from her face to interlock fingers with one of hers.

Geto turns, beginning to guide Riku by her hand towards a white door in the corner of the garage.

When they’re inside, Riku is surprised by how dark it is. There’s no way there’s any windows in here. She thinks, simply following Geto’s footsteps as it’s nearly pitch-black. They enter another door, then another, and then finally Riku is able to make out one of Geto’s muscle standing outside of a white door that’s similar to the one they’d initially entered. He offers both Riku and Geto pm 2.5 masks, to which Geto declines with a wave of his hand.

Geto looks back at Riku, “You put one on.”

Riku does what he says, fastening the elastic bands of the mask around the backs of her ears. She looks up at the man, “You’re not going to wear one?”

“Rule 2.” Geto glares down at Riku with an expression so cold and without emotion that it honestly sends a shiver through her spine.

Right. Don’t talk to him or anyone else unless he says so. Riku offers Geto an apologetic look.

He turns away from Riku and shakes his head in a bit of disappointment and annoyance, “Don’t fuck up again. Follow me.” He commands, and when the guard opens the door up, Riku enters behind Geto.

Riku’s eyes widen at the sight of at least 150 workers in white, full-body hazmat suits and gas masks. All worked in various supply lines – some bottling pills and others cutting and packaging pounds of white powder.

“Mr. Geto!” A shorter man in a gas mask and a gray suit and red tie approaches them; from behind Geto, Riku can only see that he’s balding and that he has a cute, round belly, “Welcome home! How are you?”

“Hi Hiroshi, thank you. I’m doing well. You have some new product to show me?”

“Yes!” He clasps his hands together, right this way.”

Geto looks back and down at Riku, “You stay here next to the door. Got it?”

She nods, and Geto departs to a supply line a few meters away with Hiroshi. They stop in front of a woman in a hazmat suit and mask who was currently cutting and measuring a white powder before transferring the small amounts into miniature ziplock bags.

“We’re trying a new formulation of 3,4-methylenedioxy-methamphetamine that has twice the strength and lasting effects in the system as our usual MDMA,” he explains.

“Has it been tested?” Geto asks, turning to Hiroshi.

The older man nods, “We’re on week four of trials as we speak. There’s been no adverse effects or drug dependency as of yet. Would you like to try it?”

“Of course.”

The woman in the hazmat suit hands Geto one of the small baggies, which he easily snaps open and taps some of the white powder onto the crook of his thumb and index finger. Geto eyes the powder for a fraction of a second before bringing his hand to his nose and inhaling sharply. His eyebrows raise and winces, “Wow. Hm, that burns a lot more than expected, no?” He glances down at Hiroshi.

“Yes, Mr. Geto, we have heard that from a few of our trial partners.”

“Then why didn’t you lead with that?”

The man laughs awkwardly, then wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead, “Apologies, Mr. Geto.”

“Fix it.” He says plainly, “I don’t want anymore trials of the old version amongst our higher ranked trial partners.”

“Yes, of course, sir!”

Just then, a man in a white button up shirt and black pants barges in the door without a face mask or gas mask on, “Mr. Geto!”

Geto turns with a sigh, “Yes, Kei?”

He glances at Riku, visibly choosing his next words carefully, “There’s some... men from the Kyoto syndicate here to complete their purchase.”

“Right now…?” Geto says under his breath, mostly to himself. He reaches around to his back and tucks his hand underneath his black suit jacket to retrieve a silver hand gun. Riku’s eyes widen as she hadn’t realized he’d had it on him this whole time. She flinches at the clicks it makes when he loads it.

Geto’s eyes dart back over to Riku, “Get Ms. Ozaki up to the onsen level and make sure she has whatever she needs. I’ll meet you there in a few, Ri. Okay?”

Riku nods a few times.

“Sir!” Kei shouts loudly. He glances down at her, “If you would please follow me, ma’am.”

*

When she’s changed and escorted outside, Riku is shocked and in awe at the sight of the onsen’s outdoor pool on the cliff’s edge – overlooking the vast outskirts of Tokyo at night with a few mountains in the background. As the pass the outdoor showering area, Riku begins to understand why her uncle had agreed to the idea of her staying in the Geto clan’s territory for a few days; as it looked incredibly difficult to sneak up on a place like this. And – in the event of some trouble with Toji and his men – if there really is a web of underground tunnels beneath the mountain that she can quickly escape to and through, then all the better. For now, she tries to temporarily forget that Geto is meeting with some people with a loaded gun, many floors below.

The massage therapist leads Riku to a set of massage tables on a wooden patio that sit a few yards before the steps of the natural hot spring, turning to her with a pleasant smile as she taps one of the beds, “Please get comfortable under the covers, and I’ll return in about five minutes so we can get started with your full-body massage.”

“Thank you.” Riku nods.

The massage therapist bows her head respectfully, then retreats back into the indoor area.

When the woman leaves, Riku looks around the extensive outdoor space, slowly easing out of her complimentary, white fluffy robe before hanging it on a nearby hook on the makeshift wall of the patio. The night air feels cool on her naked skin as she strides back to the massage bed before slipping under its thick sheets. She’s surprised at the warmth of it, immediately realizing and appreciative that it’s a heated table.

Riku lays face down and sticks her head into the cushioned, circular opening in the bed, allowing her eyes to flutter shut to the warmth of the heat that radiated from the table to all throughout her body. She already begins to feel herself drift off to sleep, but her senses awaken a bit when she hears a door reopen and close in the distance.

Riku hears small footsteps approach and stop at her side, “Feeling comfortable and ready to start?”

“I’m ready.”

“Okay. Let me know if the bed temperature is okay. First, we’re going to start with legs. Are there any concerns there?”

“No, not particularly, though I did use my thighs a lot today.”

The woman flips up the heavy sheets of the massage bed, but only so Riku’s legs are uncovered, “Do you run, or dance often?”

“Yeah, I teach dance sometimes… How did you know?” Riku asks, curious.

“It’s not hard to tell when you’ve massaged and talked to hundreds of different people.” Riku can’t see the woman but can hear that she’s smiling by her tone of voice, “That, and it’s pretty easy to tell if someone’s a dancer.” The masseuse rubs her hands together to warm them up, then picks up a small bottle of oil from under the table opposite to Riku’s to spread on her hands.

“You know, that’s the second time someone’s told me that in the past day…” Riku lightly chuckles from the opening beneath the table. Her eyes flutter shut when the woman begins to massage her hamstrings, kneading the muscles there in a circular, repetitive motion.

Riku is unsure of how much time passes throughout the leg massage as she floats between consciousness and a light slumber every so often, but she appreciates the woman’s movements, vaguely aware whenever she switched legs or ran her thumbs down the back of her legs to knead her calf muscles.

Riku twitches out of her sleepy state when she feels a light tap on her shoulder, though, eyelashes fluttering in a series of blinks when she’s awakened.

“Ms. Ozaki? Just letting you know that another masseuse will be taking over from here to do your back. Enjoy, and have a good night!”

“Oh? Thank you, you were amazing…” Riku trails off, voice breathy with sleep.

Riku’s legs are covered with the sheets once more and it doesn’t take much for her to doze off again with the comfortable heat of the massage bed. Her breathing slows and deepens, and she doesn’t even notice the new person enter until they remove the covers from her shoulders and peel them down all the way under the dimples of her back. She makes a small noise to the sudden coolness on her back and is too sleepy to greet or question the person who doesn’t introduce themselves.

The hands are much bigger and a bit more calloused, but they move skillfully on her back, strong thumbs massaging up the straight lengths of muscle on either side of her spine. Riku instinctively releases a breathy moan to this motion, unaware of how tense her back had been until now.

“You’re pretty tight here, huh?” The words are lowly uttered right beside Riku’s ear, and she gasps in surprise, immediately recognizing the other’s voice.

She whips her head towards him, “Suguru?!” Her eyes widen when she sees the long-haired man standing above her in only a white robe, the sliver of exposed skin on his chest covered with a mix of dragons and other colorful, yakuza tattoos.

His hair was away from his face and tied up in a messy bun, a grin on his face at Riku’s surprised expression, “I told you I’d rub this little back of yours, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but…!” Riku’s cheeks redden with embarrassment. She turns from the other and shyly puts her head back into the massage table, “You should’ve said something.”

“Surprise.” Geto smirks, continuing to knead his fingers into Riku’s back.

“How did the Kyoto syndicate purchase go?”

“As well as it could’ve.” Riku hears a smirk in his voice, “What, were you worried about me because I brought a gun?”

“No…!” Riku’s face blushes from beneath the table.

He bends over to whisper his next words beside her ear, “Liar.” He stands up straight again, “Just brought some extra protection is all.”

“Whatever. I mean it’s not like I want you to die or anything.” Riku says, and there’s silence for a moment.

Riku groans in pleasure every so often, especially whenever Geto massages a knot out of the muscles in her back and shoulders, “Are you even licensed to do this?” She moans out, words contradicting the obvious pleasure she feels from the work of Geto’s hands, “I’m calling the authorities…” She grumbles, relaxed and sleepy from the other’s massaging.

Geto chuckles, “I own the place, beautiful. Can do whatever I want.” His hands finally cease after a while, “All right, you’re done. Wanna shower and get in the hot spring?”

Riku grunts childishly when Geto stops massaging her back, really living up to the brat allegations, “Keep going…”

Geto’s hand connects with the curve of Riku’s ass with a loud ‘smack,’ even through the thick fabric of the massage table’s sheets, and she jumps with a high-pitched yelp before turning her head back to look at Geto, “You don’t tell me what to do, Ri” A devilish grin is on his lips, “Now get up and shower with me.” The back of his hand lightly brushes Riku’s exposed cheek as he speaks.

“Fine,” she grabs the sheets at her lower back and pulls them up so her body is hidden from Geto’s eyes, “but you have to undress first.”

Geto rolls his eyes, smirk remaining on his lips as his hands move to unfasten the cloth belt of his robe. He quickly makes work of the white, towel-like fabric, removing and tossing it entirely to the side so that it falls nearby the hot spring.

With his robe now gone, for the first time Riku is able to see the fullness and extensive nature of Geto’s colorful tattoos that cover all of his torso and arms… vivid, red and green dragons twisting and dancing up the length of his arms, chest, and back. Part of her wonders how many hours it took to ink so much of his body. Riku’s eyes finally dart down Geto’s cut abdomen and between his legs, widening a bit at the size of his dick, even in its half-hardened state. She could tell it had a lot of girth, and blinks in a bit of surprise.

“Like what you see, Ri?” He chuckles to her dazed expression, “Your turn.” He crosses his bulky arms over his muscular chest, eying her.

Riku slowly sits up, lightly biting her lower lip as she allows the sheet to fall from her shoulders, exposing her bare, perky breasts that were a tad large for her frame. The sharp indent of her small waist comes into view when she hops off of the massage table to stand in front of Geto; her wide, toned hips and legs that he’d gotten a preview of last night now more visible in the lights of the onsen’s patio. Her wavy, long black curls dust her shoulders as they fall down to rest at the center of her back.

Geto doesn’t hold back and looks Riku up and down shamelessly, taking his time as he engraves the image of her into his memory, “Wow. You’re like a work of art, Ri.”

“Like?” She quirks a brow to the word, confidently.

Geto laughs once under his breath, shaking his head to Riku’s ego, “Shut up and come here.” He grasps Riku’s hand and pulls her along towards the traditional Japanese shower area on the side of the patio. Geto turns on the handheld shower head and squats to sit down on one of the stools, leaning over to pull another stool in front of him before glancing up at Riku who’s still standing.

She smiles brightly, “You’re going to help me wash my back, too? Aww…” She turns and sits down on the stool in front of Geto so that her back nearly presses flush against his front.

When Geto reaches to retrieve the handheld shower head from its holder, his free hand brushes her thick hair over her shoulder and he presses a soft kiss to her newly exposed neck. Riku allows her eyes to flutter shut to the sweet interaction, leaning back a little so that her back gently rests against Geto’s toned chest.

Geto sprays the hot water on the two of them, next passing the shower head to Riku so she could rinse her hair while he frees his hair from its bun and snaps his hair tie around his wrist.

“This is a first.” Riku notes, passing the shower head back to Geto and leaning forward to squeeze a number of pumps of the onsen’s complimentary shampoo into her hand. She rubs it over and through the length of her hair.

“What? Showering with someone?” Geto asks, drenching his own hair with the hot spray from the shower head.

“No, I’ve done that – just not in a Japanese style bath… at a private onsen on top of a mountain, at that.” She turns to one side while she lathers her hair, glancing back and up at Geto for a moment.

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a new experience, beautiful.” He winks down at her. Geto puts the shower head back in its holder, directing it so that it sprays on Riku’s chest before sitting up once more and moving his fingers to her scalp. He gently massages the shampoo into the roots of her hair.

Riku’s hands fall from her hair at the blissful sensation of Geto’s fingers massaging her scalp, mouth falling slightly agape and eyes closing as she softly hums to his small, circular movements, “Fuck, that feels amazing…” She breathes out, brows knitting together in pleasure.

Geto chuckles right beside Riku’s ear, “Yeah?” He coos, one of his hands retreating from her hair after a minute to slide down her shoulder and over the curve of her breast before squeezing. He uses the hand still in her hair to turn her head back towards him, lips pressing to Riku’s agape ones in a heated, passionate make out. Geto’s tongue dances with Riku’s, the two of them beginning to set a pace as he lightly bites and sucks her bottom lip into his mouth between kisses.

Riku senses a familiar heaviness building in her abdomen and feels Geto’s erection twitch firmly against her ass, breaking their moment of heated passion to pant heavily and look up at the other.

The moment quickly fades when a bit of the shampoo suds fall into her eye, “Ow,” she rubs at it a little.

A grin plays at the corners of Geto’s mouth and he grabs the shower head again, beginning to help Riku rinse her hair, “You okay? Need me to blow in your eye?” He teases.

Riku simply grumbles, leaning back into Geto’s shoulder so some of the spray from the shower head could flush out her eye. The bit of foundation she’d put on earlier drops from her face and the red and purple bruises underneath begin to come into view.

Geto gently brushes his fingers over her bruised cheek with his free hand, to which Riku flinches in a bit of pain, “Sorry,” he says low and apologetically.

“S’okay…” she blinks up at Geto, eyes directly meeting his in a long silence.

“Does it hurt bad?” He asks, genuinely.

And Riku thinks she finally understands why so many women in the yakuza syndicate swoon over this man. It’s almost too easy to fall for his sweet and attentive ways, “No, looks worse than it feels.” Riku says, picking her head back up and taking the shower head from Geto to finish rinsing her hair. She’s careful not to look into his eyes for too long, as she definitely is not interested in falling for anyone right now, let alone a yakuza drug lord.

“Wanna smoke a little?”

“Sure.” After thoroughly washing their bodies, Riku wrings her hair out a bit more before tying it up in a high ponytail and stepping into the hot spring. She sits on one of the rocks beside Geto who’s already inside.

Geto sits with his back pressed against one of the unyielding, straight rocks inside the edge of the hot spring pool, facing the vast view of the city at night before them. He reaches back to grab the joint and lighter from the pocket of the robe he’d abandoned on the ground earlier. Geto easily lights the joint in a practiced sort-of-way, evenly burning the end and lightly puffing the filter a few times to make sure it’s well lit.

He holds the joint between his lips while he places the lighter back on his robe behind him, then glances to Riku, passing the joint to her to hit, “Ladies first.”

Riku takes the joint from Geto between her index and thumb, eyeing it before finally pressing it to her lips to take a few small puffs. She hadn’t smoked weed in a while and didn’t want to embarrass herself by coughing so much. She exhales smoothly, blowing the smoke out from the corner of her mouth and away from them.

“Don’t worry, beautiful. It’s not laced with anything.” Geto winks, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She shrugs, teasing, “Ya never know, you being a drug lord and all.” Riku passes the joint back, and Geto takes a long, heavy drag from it, ending with a French inhale when he expels the white smoke from his mouth.

Geto chuckles, holding the joint between his fingers, “You’re… different, Riku.” He takes another puff, turning his gaze to the beautifully cultivated scene of nature and city lights before them.

“Different how?” Riku raises a brow at Geto, resting her elbows behind her on the rock edge of the onsen.

“Well, none of the women I usually hang around would ever give me as much back-talk as you,” Geto admits, beginning to smirk, “that and the fact that you expect men to do whatever you want them to do.” He turns back to Riku and hands the joint to her.

“As they should. It’s better that way.” Riku says coolly, then takes a longer drag from the joint compared to her previous puffs. The back of her throat stings from the smoke but she’s able to refrain from coughing, “And shouldn’t I be able to have anything I want?” She says in a cute, pleading tone as she gazes at Geto with big eyes and slightly pouting lips. It’s the kind of look that would undoubtedly make most men crumble.

Geto simply looks at Riku for a moment, straight-faced; almost caught in her spell. He blinks, then retrieves the joint from her hand, a small grin on his lips, “Shit, you’re good.” He takes a puff, “They teach all the Ozaki girls how to put on an act like that?”

“Nah, we may be masters of the arts, but that part’s just genetic. And I guess I should take that as a compliment, coming from you.” Riku smirks, turning her head to appreciate the city lights once more.

There’s a lull in their conversation for a moment, but they both simply observe the view with the background sounds of running water.

Geto speaks up again, “I’m not saying a man shouldn’t treat you like a princess, he definitely should, but,” he pauses to take another drag from the joint, returning his gaze to Riku, “you don’t seem like the type to reciprocate at all. Not even a little.”

Riku laughs under her breath, cocking her head to one side in agreement, “Well, you’re right about that. I’d rather not do that kind of work if I don’t have to.”

Geto responds with a single chuckle, “Hah, work? Damn, Riku, not out of the kindness of your heart or because you love someone, but work? Shit. Who hurt you?”

Riku shakes her head, lightly smiling at the view before them as the other continues to gaze down at her, “It’s not like that. I’m sort of like you in a way – just not the romantic type. I’ve never been disappointed when men do me wrong or don’t meet my expectations – men are always going to fail when it comes to that. It’s what they do best,” she takes the joint from Geto again, poking it between her lips to take a hit – now beginning to feel her head floating, “I’m just not interested in investing in that sort of dynamic when I already know there’s no return on it.”

“Ah, so you have had your heart broken…” Geto smirks.

“Sure, I mean who hasn’t?” She passes the joint back to Geto, “But honestly, even when I do think back about past lovers and past relationships – which is a rare case in itself… I think, why would I want things any other way than how I operate now? It’s very efficient, and who would even want to lift a finger for a man’s sake if they didn’t have to?”

“Yeah, you’re a brat through and through.” He concludes, nodding to himself as he takes a hit from the now much smaller joint.

Riku laughs lightly, but it’s an honest one – probably the most honest Geto’s heard her utter in the short time he’s known her. She suddenly moves closer to Geto and closes the gap between them, naked thigh pressed against his beneath the hot water as she looks up at the man, “You say that like it hasn’t worked on you.” She nearly sings, expression smug.

Geto quickly finishes the joint before placing the bud of it on the rock behind him, turning back to offer Riku his undivided attention. He furrows his brows as he looks down at her in a mix of confusion and amusement, “Please, baby. I see through it.”

Riku turns up the brattiness a notch, “Do you? I mean, it’s hardly been 24 hours since we met and you’ve already eaten me out, treated me to onsen, given me a massage, washed my hair… and you even promised to make me dinner tonight.” She says, counting each of Geto’s actions on her fingers, a bit mockingly. There’s a devious glint in her eyes, “And what have I done for you…?” Riku pretends to think for a moment, “Kiss you and look pretty?”

Geto’s gaze on Riku narrows, and all of a sudden, he’s grabbed her hips with one hand and moved her onto his lap, water splashing around them at the speed of his movements. Riku makes a high-pitched noise of surprise when she’s maneuvered, eyes wide as she’s now face to face with with Geto’s cold expression, “You’re mistaken, brat. Don’t you gloat too fucking much,” he snakes his arm around Riku’s waist and locks it there, causing her back to arch and her hips to jerk into his, “I’ve done those things for you because I like doing them.”

Riku feels her heart beat a bit quicker, but somehow regains some of her composure as she sits on the man’s lap, feeling his naked erection prod at the crook of her inner thigh, “Mhm, but the fact still remains, no?” She leans closer, pressing her lips to his ear with a sultry whisper, “You wanna treat me good; and there’s countless men out there who’d line up to the same exact thing for the same exact reason as you – that you’re infatuated with everything about me.” Riku runs her slick tongue along the length of Geto’s neck, beginning to kiss and suck small red marks onto the skin there. She simultaneously grinds her hips forward in a smooth, fluid, and controlled movement that only a dancer could, rubbing over Geto’s hardened dick.

“You’re a piece of fucking work, Ri…” Geto slips his free hand up Riku’s back, slowly and gently combing his fingers through the roots of her hair before abruptly grabbing a handful and jerking her head back, “Gojo was right. We need to teach you a lesson.” His near-black eyes peer down into her brown with an examining gaze.

“Can’t wait.” Riku smiles, eyes beaming with exaggerated excitement.

Geto rolls his eyes, unable to help the smirk on his lips when he suddenly pushes Riku off of his lap and tosses her back into the hot spring water.

“Agh—” Her scream is cut off when she falls into the pool. She breaks the surface a few seconds later, long curls straightened slick against her face and shoulders from the moisture of the water, “Hey… That was mean!” She pouts, pushing her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms over her bare chest.

“You kinda deserved that one, Ri.” Geto begins to rise to his feet, wading over to the steps of the onsen and then walking out, “Gotta teach you to stop your back-talk somehow.”

Riku shamelessly admires his muscular form emerge from the water, especially appreciating the bulk of his toned arms, and his tight butt that sticks out when he picks up her robe for her. He grabs his own as well before putting it on and fastening the waistband.

Geto turns back to her, tucking her robe in the bend of his arm with an outstretched hand to help her out of the onsen, “Come on, Ri. Let’s get out of here. I still gotta make you dinner, right?” He smiles, this time honestly.

*

Riku lays back on the black leather couch of Geto’s vast, modern style living room, legs stretched out over the length of it as she scrolls through her phone and replies to a few messages – most of which were from Nanami who kept asking her for updates. A cooking show softly plays in the background from the large TV in front of her but she doesn’t pay it much attention at the moment. As she hadn’t planned for or previously known that she’d be staying with Geto for a few days, Riku wears some of his clothes as makeshift pajamas, currently and solely wearing one of his white t-shirts and a pair of his boxer-briefs. Both were far to big for her but especially the extra large t-shirt that drapes and loosely hangs off her shoulders – basically the length of a small dress.

Riku knows that Geto is in the kitchen finishing up preparing their dinner but hears a door loudly open in the distance, and suddenly his white-haired best friend is the one to stride into the living room first, eventually followed by Geto.

“Hey, Ri,” Gojo is fully dressed in his all-black getup when he enters the room. He smirks down at the sight of Riku on the couch, arms folded across his chest as he admires the view, “damn you look fucking good in his shirt…”

Riku locks her phone and places it on the flat of the couch’s arm rest, a bit caught off guard when Gojo suddenly leans over and captures her lips with his own in a heated kiss; Riku can’t deny it’s a bit embarrassing with Geto right behind him and blushes, lightly moaning into his mouth when he easily slips a large hand beneath the shirt to grasp her bare breast.

“Hey,” Geto warns, “I’ve been working on that one all night,” he quickly explains to Gojo, “don’t ruin dessert.” He grins wickedly.

Gojo breaks the kiss, standing upright again, “Well, when you put it like that…” He trails off, grin matching his friend’s.

Riku sits up, smoothing the shirt back down, “Is that all I am to you? Something you want to eat after dinner?” She plays along, only pretending to be offended in the way she asks the question.

Gojo plops down beside Riku on the couch, aimlessly watching the cooking show for a moment, “What is for dinner, anyways?”

“Kaisendon,” Geto sits on the opposite side of Riku, joining the two of them on the couch, “already prepped the sashimi and just waiting on the rice to finish cooking, now.” His eyes dart over to Riku, “This one had to choose something expensive, of course…” the pads of Geto’s fingers brush under her chin.

Riku rolls her eyes, “Oh please, a few hundred bucks spent on quality fish is nothing to you.”

“Still acting like a brat, I see…” Gojo tears his eyes from the TV and leans close to Riku.

“Oh she’s been even worse today,” Geto pokes two long fingers to Riku’s lips and slips them into her mouth – and Riku immediately starts to lick and suck on them lewdly. Geto glances to Gojo with his next words, “all kinds of smart shit’s been coming out of this pretty little mouth.” He looks back at Riku with a dark, heated gaze, “Such a shame when she could be using it for something better.”

“You’re such a slut.” Gojo laughs, hands slipping up Riku’s shirt to squeeze her breasts again, pausing every so often to tease her hardened nipples with his fingertips, “You’re barely even ashamed of wanting to please both of us at the same time, aren’t you?” Gojo then talks low, breathing hotly into Riku’s ear, “Go on, show him how you’d treat his dick.”

Riku moans soft and wantonly as she laps and swirls her tongue around Geto’s fingers, eyes locked on Geto’s until he suddenly pulls them from her mouth. Geto’s gaze lowers to Riku’s body as he trails them down her exposed stomach, slipping them under the waistband of the loose boxer briefs and starting to gently rub small circles over her clit.

A breathy but louder moan falls from Riku’s lips at the pleasurable friction Geto creates, brows knitting together when Gojo pinches her nipples at the same time. She looks back and forth between the two men, both of their eyes locked on her as they continue their sinful movements on her body.

Riku glances down at Geto’s hand that moves beneath the fabric of the black boxer briefs, unaware of how much her body had been craving his touch so badly until this very moment. She moans again and grabs the thick of Geto’s forearm, pulling it closer as she wants him to touch her more.

“That good, huh?” Geto says slyly, “Or is this just what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

“That feels so good…” Riku pants out between heavy breaths, honestly surprised by how perfect and skillfully his fingers move on the tiny, swelling bud of flesh between her legs.

“I know, baby.” Geto pecks Riku’s forehead with a kiss, and the innocence of the gesture mixed with the contrasting, wicked movements of his fingers drives her a little crazier.

Gojo pauses and retrieves one of his hands away from Riku’s breasts, popping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them before removing them from his lips with a ‘pop.’ He reaches down between Riku’s legs, slipping his hand under the stretched fabric of the briefs and beneath Geto’s that circled over her clit to press his long fingers into her tight, slick hole.

“Hah…!” Riku cries out, instinctively squeezing around Gojo’s fingers.

“Shit, you’re tight, babe…” Gojo notes, “And so wet. You haven’t been fucked in a while, have you?”

Riku props up her leg on the edge of the couch so that the men have better access to her. She moans messily in response to Gojo’s words, looking up at him to shake her head as she currently finds it difficult to speak with all the pleasure she’s receiving.

Gojo’s fingers move at a slow, steady pace in and out of Riku’s pussy, deeply massaging her from the inside with each thrust of his hand.

“Tell us how long it’s been, beautiful.” Geto speaks up again, his sultry voice just slightly demanding.

Riku whines, somehow mustering up the strength to speak coherently, “Uh… a l-little over a y-year…”

“A year?!” Gojo and Geto simultaneously chorus, both of their hand movements ceasing for a few seconds, before eventually continuing again.

“Shit, babe, no wonder you’re such a slut for a little bit of friction.” Gojo says, still pushing his fingers in and out of Riku deliciously slow. He tries curling the tips of his fingers forward when he slides them deep into her pussy, pressing against the soft spot at the front of her drenched walls.

“Ah—!” Riku loudly yelps, hips jerking forward when Gojo touches her g-spot while Geto continues his feather-light circling of her clit.

“There it is…” Gojo grins, softly chuckling to Riku’s response, “You like it right here, babe?” He whispers the rhetorical question into her ear. His hand abruptly picks up speed, the toned muscles of his arm rippling beneath his black button up shirt as he begins to harshly thrust and pound his hand against Riku’s cunt.

Her mouth falls agape and loud groans continuously fall from her lips, “Fuck, ah, S-Satoru! Too fast…!” She turns to look up at him, free hand gently grabbing the bicep of his arm that moved at a crazy pace. Her eyes are pleading and the expression on her face is a helpless one as she’s at the mercy of these two powerful, cruel yakuza men.

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl, yeah?” There’s not a hint of care or kindness in Gojo’s tone – only nastiness and impatience.

Riku’s hardly able to register how quickly she’s drawn to the edge at the command of Gojo’s pounding, curling fingers; the sharp contrast of Geto’s gentle, circling ones only driving her closer to her climax. Geto speeds up his movements to match Gojo’s, and Riku’s body shudders with anticipation of the big orgasm she feels approaching. She nearly reaches the edge, chest shaking as she loudly hyperventilates at the strong sensation that’s so close she can almost taste it…

… and Gojo and Geto exchange looks, nodding at each other once in sync before quickly removing their hands from between her legs.

Riku is dazed for a moment, not having expected the men to stop, and her moans turn into a long whine. She pulls at their arms, looking between Gojo and Geto with begging eyes, “Please…! ‘M so close!”

The two men simply pull out of her grasp in response and rise from the couch, leaving her there. Geto laughs loudly.

“That sounds like a personal problem, Ri.” Gojo yawns, turning to Geto with a shit-eating grin, “I’m hungry. You, Suguru?”

“Yeah. The rice cooker’s probably finished by now, too.”

“Oh, fuck you two.” Riku’s helpless, pleading tone is already long gone and she spits the words bitterly, obviously pissed and angry from having been edged and denied her orgasm. She dramatically throws herself back onto the couch so she’s stretched over it like she had been before. Riku picks up her phone once again, looking at absolutely nothing in particular as she truly just felt like ignoring the two men who’d teased her.

“Aw, look who’s mad!” Gojo pokes fun at Riku, laughing, “What’s wrong, babe? We’re only giving you the punishment you deserve.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about giving us attitude. Now come, Riku. Let’s eat.” Geto says.

Riku turns on her side and away from the men so that she directly faces the back of the couch, “No.” she grumbles childishly, tapping away at her phone, “I wanna cum.”

Riku suddenly feels her arm harshly being grabbed and pulled back so that she gets off the couch and stands on her feet, Geto’s sharp eyes glaring down at her with a coldness that’s downright scary, “Don’t make me say it again, brat. You don’t get to cum unless I fucking let you. Now you better fucking eat this good ass dinner I made. It’s what you wanted – right, slut?”

Riku’s stunned and honestly a bit frightened by this dark side of Geto, as he’s usually so sweet and she hasn’t really experienced him act like this until this instant. That’s right, he is Tokyo’s most vicious drug lord. She feels her heart rate hasten and drops her phone to the floor, “Yes!” She replies obediently.

“Then come on and fucking eat it then.” Geto leans in so he’s face-to-face with Riku, peering down at her.

Riku regains some of her confidence, not wanting to cower under the man’s gaze and instead changing her expression so that she glares up at him.

Gojo watches their interaction, deciding to break the tension. He brushes the back of his knuckles over Riku’s smooth cheek, genuinely smiling to the pissed off look on her face, “You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry, Ri.”

“That’s toxic!” Riku shouts, turning her attention to Gojo.

Geto laughs, his fit of anger leaving him as quickly as it came, “Not the fact that he’s the highest ranked yakuza, but the fact that he likes the way you look when you’re angry? That’s the red flag?” He laughs a bit more, “You’re hilarious, Ri…”

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 2: Yakuza Princess Treatment

ch. 1 |

chapter word count: 9k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Riku sighs and locks her phone after sending her last message to Nanami. She peers out the window for a moment, the bright lights of the city outskirts finally coming into view. Riku wonders where they will have dinner.

“Everything alright?” Geto asks from the front passenger seat, turning to quirk a brow at Riku in the back seat.

“Yeah, fine. Just Nanami being annoying and overprotective.” Riku closes her eyes for a moment, resting her head back against the leather seat.

Gojo chuckles, “I guess I’d be stressed, too, if I had to look after you.” He pushes a hand through his white hair, moving it away from his eyes a bit before sliding on his small, black spectacles once more. Riku can’t imagine how he can even see through them at night, but the man seems to manage just fine.

“Hey…” Riku starts, pouting as Geto joins in on the laughter.

“Mhm, I bet you’re a handful, if tonight’s any sign.” Geto adds, removing the leather gloves from his hands and slipping them into his pocket. His fingers tug at his black tie to loosen it before removing it completely, and he then undoes the first two buttons of his collar, the tattoos on his skin peeking through the top of his dark red shirt.

“I’m not a handful…!” Riku defends, “I’m just not afraid to speak my mind.”

“Even if it gets you into trouble. You’re a wild card,” Gojo finishes for her, tone turning serious for a moment, “which is why you should keep your head low for a week, at least. Toji may not know your name, now, but it won’t be hard for him to find.” Gojo suddenly breathes out a single chuckle, glancing over at Geto, “You know this girl told me her name was Reina earlier tonight? When the name card in front of her clearly read Riku?”

Geto laughs with an open-mouthed grin, looking back at Riku once again, “What? Why would you do that?”

Riku crosses her arms over her chest, face bright red with embarrassment, “I don’t fucking know, so shut up.” She mutters, now looking out the window.

Geto returns his gaze to Gojo, “I think you may have scared her a little, Satoru, maybe that’s why.” Geto reaches his arm back, hand smoothing over the soft, taught skin of Riku’s café au lait thighs as he offered her a sultry look, “Were you scared, baby…?”

Riku twitches briefly when Geto rubs his hand up her legs, a warm heaviness pooling in her abdomen at the sensation of his fingers gently massaging between her knees and up her inner thighs. She realizes it’s the first time he’s touched her without gloves. The pleasure Geto’s light touch gives Riku startles her, and she’s surprised by how long it takes herself to muster up the strength to finally swat his hand away. She can practically hear her heartbeat in her head, “No, I wasn’t scared.” She replies, voice softer than intended.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Suguru faces forward again, grin still on his face.

Gojo glances between the two of them, then focuses on the road, “That’s not fair, Suguru,” he starts, voice deeper than usual and notably alluring, “I wanna tease her, too…”

The long-haired man snickers.

Riku clears her throat, feeling the need to change the conversation topic, “Where are we eating?”

“Chinatown.” The two men chorus together, and as they speak Riku sees the familiar street signs of the area begin to come into view. She’d visited Yokohama Chinatown a lot growing up, just not much in the last 15 years or so. Was this someplace mom and dad used to go to do business? She closes her eyes to think for a moment, trying to remember, but isn’t able to. It’s too painful. Her eyes blink open once more and all of a sudden the car is entering a parking garage.

Gojo pulls into a spot near the front of the garage that is surprisingly open, though the rest of the lot seems to be completely full. Did they have a deal with the owners? When he parks the car, he steps out of the driver’s seat, taking a moment to remove the royal blue jacket and vest of his 3-piece suit – revealing a white shirt underneath. It was obvious that both of the men were beginning to grow at least slightly annoyed by the restraining nature of their gala clothing.

Geto is the one to open Riku’s door for her, and she uses his steady hand for balance as she steps out of the car. She glances down at her naked feet, “You got any other shoes in here?”

“Uh…” Gojo trails off, hitting a button on his car keys until the trunk door pops and begins to rise open on its own. He moves around the SUV and digs through a duffle in the trunk for a moment, “These fit you?” Gojo passes a pair of luxury brand slides to Geto who pokes them in Riku’s direction. It’s more than evident that the shoes belong to someone much tinier than them from how small they are.

Riku drops them on the ground and slides her feet into them, moving around a bit, “A little big, but… They’ll do, thanks. These your girlfriend’s or something?”

Gojo looks over at Geto for a moment, and the two laugh to Riku’s question for some reason unbeknownst to her. He clicks the trunk button on his key again, the door beginning to close on its own.

Geto shuts the passenger doors of the car, and Riku raises her brows in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“We don’t really do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, sweetheart.” Gojo smirks, offering Riku his blue suit jacket as the temperature had dropped significantly compared to earlier in the night.

Riku slides the big jacket sleeves onto her arms and Geto helps her into the coat, “Then what do you do?” She asks, genuinely curious.

“We have fun.” Geto coos just over a whisper, lips suddenly by Riku’s ear.

The man’s low voice and sudden proximity makes Riku flinch, and she looks back and forth between the two men before her eyes widen in realization. Do these guys just not get into relationships…? Or do they, like, share partners or something?? Or, do they fuck each other!? Is it all three of those things??! Riku feels her face heat up, deciding to instead shake the intrusive thoughts from her mind.

Gojo chuckles at Riku’s reaction, “C’mon, beautiful,” he locks the car, “you’re hungry, right?”

Riku takes in the busy nightlife of Chinatown, appreciating how lively this part Yokohama, just south of Tokyo, is even though it’s after midnight. Most restaurants in the city would be long closed by now, but Riku can’t seem to spot a restaurant, convenience store, or shop that wasn’t open in Chinatown right now.

They walk a few blocks through Chinatown’s bustling nightlife, music blasting from various bars and establishments until they turn a corner and stop in front of a restaurant Riku thinks is named ‘Han’s Mainland Cuisine,’ according to the characters on the neon sign. Her Mandarin is rusty, but she wonders if these guys are fluent – it definitely isn’t unusual for yakuza, especially for those who deal in the drug business.

Gojo holds the door for Riku to enter before him and she steps into the quaint, little restaurant – shocked by how beautiful and extravagant the Classical Chinese-style interior is compared to the beat up-looking exterior of the restaurant.

“Mr. Gojo! Mr. Geto!” A young boy in uniform, no older than 10 rushes toward them, beaming at the sight of the two men.

“Hey, Little Jun!” Gojo scoops the kid up into a massive hug. Geto leans towards them with a smile, reaching to mess up the boy’s neat bowl cut with a quick dusting of his fingers. Riku can’t help but wonder why the kid was up so late.

An older man in a chef’s coat and a woman around the same age in uniform then emerge from the back of the otherwise near-empty restaurant, eyes brightening at the sight of Gojo and Geto.

“Hi Mr. Gojo, Mr. Geto. Would you like your usual table in the back?” The woman asks, politely, wrinkles stretching at the corners of her mouth. With her wise eyes, short jet-black hair, and smile lines, Riku thinks the woman is aging beautifully and could tell she is much older than her appearance lets on.

Gojo puts the boy down, “No thanks, we can sit up front today since we have company.” He gestures to Riku.

“Who’s she?” Little Jun asks in Mandarin; Riku is able to make that out, at least. The smile leaves his face at the sight of her, and Riku almost feels like she’s intruding on a family moment.

“She’s our new friend.” Gojo replies with a grin, pressing his hand to the small of Riku’s back.

The older woman’s gaze narrows on Riku’s bruised, swelling cheek; her practiced, service industry smile now gone.

“And she got a little hurt tonight, so she needs some ice.” Geto leans over Little Jun, pressing a hand to the boy’s shoulder with a confident, reassuring smile, “Think you can help us with that, Junnie?”

The boy nods once, before retreating to the kitchen in the back of the restaurant.

“Let me get you all seated.” The woman says, clasping her hands together. She turns on her heels and leads them to a booth. Riku sits on one side while Gojo and Geto sit on the other.

“To eat?” The older man in the chef’s uniform finally speaks up, eyes darting over to Riku when he asks about what they’d like, “Does she need a menu?”

Gojo shakes his head and waves his hand once, “No need for that. We’ll have our usual, but for three.

The man nods, “Very well.” He begins to return to the kitchen with the woman.

Riku turns to Gojo, “What if I’m allergic to something? Or want something different than what you two eat?”

“You’ll like it. And if you’re allergic to something, don’t eat it. Not my problem.” He looks annoyed for a moment, but his expression turns into one of intrigue, a wild grin playing at the corners of his mouth, “Shit, you’re a brat, aren’t you?”

Riku’s lips fall agape in shock at Gojo’s response, but she then recalls and reminds herself of the type of men these two are. They deal in the business of violence and drugs… They are not the kind of sweet-mouthed men to give her the princess treatment while looking after her, especially as she’s from a lower clan. It pisses her off but she tries to hide it. Riku glances away from them, gazing off in the distance to admire the interior design of the restaurant instead.

Geto smirks, easily seeing through Riku’s cold expression, “Oh, this one? Big time.” Geto places one of his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his palm as he peered over at Riku, “I bet you’re used to men doing whatever you want them to do for you, huh?”

Riku is beginning to see how good Geto is at reading people. She decides to ignore his question, her agitated mood slowly becoming more visible.

“Well, that’s not how we roll, babe.” Gojo’s playful tone turns demanding, “While you’re with us, you do what we say, got it?”

Even though she’s not looking at him, Riku feels his cerulean eyes on her skin like daggers but continues to look off into the distance, ignoring him and his question. She instead plays with a curl at the back of her head that had fallen from her high bun.

And all of a sudden, Gojo stands and reaches over the table, grasping Riku’s chin between his fingers before physically turning her gaze to meet his, “That wasn’t an optional question.” He says darkly, tone still demanding. He waits for the answer he wants to hear.

Riku doesn’t make him wait long, “Yes, got it…” She immediately replies in a small voice.

Gojo releases her face and sits back down, satisfied, “Answer me the first time, then.”

“Would ya look at that, Satoru –  she does know how to control her mouth.” Geto says in mock-surprise, adding in a fake gasp for good measure. The two men chuckle and Riku diverts her attention to the boy who’s returning with a pack of ice covered in a hand towel; he hands it to her.

“Thank you.” She offers the boy a smile who only glares at her in return before walking away. Riku sulks a bit. Did I do something wrong?

“Don’t mind it, beautiful. He didn’t like the last woman we brought in here.” Geto says, still laughing to himself.

Riku is about to ask, but doesn’t. She presses the ice pack to her face, wincing at the initial pain of the pressure on her swollen cheek before enjoying the coolness of it. She looks across the table at the two men – arguably two of the most dangerous men in Tokyo, shaking her head to herself as she thinks about how she’d ended up with them tonight.

The older waitress returns to them with jasmine green tea, pouring each of them a cup then resting the porcelain kettle on the table with its saucer and returning to the kitchen. Riku takes a long sip, eyes fluttering shut to the warmth and calming flavors of the delicious liquid, “Mm… this is good.” She appreciates, thinking it’s easily one of the best cups of tea she’s had in the last few months.

“Right?” Geto chimes in, taking a sip, himself, “You should try the fruit tea.”

“So, you going to tell us about yourself?” Gojo asks, gaze focused on Riku.

“What do you want to know?” She rests the ice pack on the edge of the table for a moment as her face starts to feel a bit colder than desired.

“How old are you?” Geto questions, eyes peering down at Riku from across the table in curiosity.

“Twenty-five.”

“What businesses do you run for the Ozaki family?” Gojo asks, flatly.

“I run internal affairs at our ballet, Latin, and pole dance companies, and sometimes teach at the studios; but I’ve also done some project management-related work for the exhibits at our art museums in the heart of the city.” Riku says, then takes another sip of tea.

“You do pole dancing?” Gojo looks intrigued.

Of course that’s all he heard. Riku sighs, gently placing the porcelain cup back down, “Yes.”

Gojo smirks to Riku’s response and she wonders if he’s messing with her, “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”

“Yeah, you and a lot of people.” Riku says matter-of-factly with a confidence that’s only born out of experience. She knows the power her looks and dancing has over men and is unashamed of it. Their world of Tokyo Yakuza is and has always been a tough, violence-ridden one, after all. Just like anyone else, Riku uses what she’s good at to get what she wants.

“You Jin’s daughter?” Geto asks.

Riku shakes her head, cupping her hands around the warm cup of tea before her, “No, his niece.”

“Who are your parents, then?” Geto twists his forearm to glance at his watch and checks the time before looking at Riku once more.

“Dead.” She says simply, and there’s a pregnant silence.

Gojo breaks it, completely straight-faced when he says his next words, “Is that why you act like that?” The corners of his mouth then hint at a sick grin.

Riku’s hands tighten into fists on the table as she gives the man a death stare, eyes communicating what she would say if not for the rage boiling inside of her. I’ll fucking kill you.

Geto clicks his tongue, cocking his head towards and glancing over at his friend, “Come on, Satoru, that’s fucked.”

Gojo suppresses a chuckle, holding the palms of his hands out in front of him, “Sorry. I’m sorry, Riku, alright?”

Though she can tell he wants to laugh at her angered expression, Riku can still sense the sincerity in his voice, but continues to glare at him, trying to calm herself down with a sip of jasmine tea.

“How’d they die?” Gojo asks.

“Same way everyone does in our line of work.” Riku replies, straightforwardly, and the men immediately understand. Brutally.

Gojo takes a long breath, not pushing the topic any further. His phone vibrates and he pulls it from his pocket before typing a message into it. He leans over to say something in Geto’s ear, low so that he only hears. Geto’s eyes widen slightly, but only for a moment. He nods.

Gojo turns back towards Riku, “Suguru and I gotta step out for a little in thirty-or-so minutes, but we’ll only be gone for five minutes or so. When we do, you don’t move from this table, alright? You just keep eating.”

Riku nods a few times.

“Say you understand.” Geto says lowly, but it’s clear his words are a demand.

The way he speaks makes Riku’s stomach flutter excitedly, and she kind of hates how much his serious voice has an effect on her, “I understand.”

Geto nods, shifting the conversation again, “You got a man, or a woman, or something?”

Riku shakes her head, smiling at the honesty of Geto’s question. If he has any ulterior motives when asking it, she can’t sense them.

“Not even Nanami?” Gojo follows, clearly interested in their connection.

“My bodyguard?? Ew, no…” A chill shivers through her body at the thought, “I mean, he’s my friend, but no.”

The waitress returns with a tray with three soups on it and places one in front of each of them. Riku doesn’t waste any time, already scooping then blowing on her spoon full of soup before taking a sip. The sweet and savory flavors of the broth are balanced perfectly and Riku closes her eyes briefly to savor it.

“So it’s one-sided, then?” Gojo both asks and concludes, now grasping the situation a little better. The way Nanami had spoken to him earlier on the phone about Riku already spoke volumes to their relationship dynamic.

Riku opens her eyes to look up at Gojo, her face giving her away as pushes her lips together in a tight line. She doesn’t confirm nor deny his words, and instead takes another sip of her soup.

Gojo nods with understanding, then grins, “You wanna know what he was like in high school?”

Riku’s eyes light up with interest and she perks up in her seat, putting her spoon down on the table, “Oh, please do. I wanna know everything so I can use this information against him at a later date.” She rubs her hands together in a villain-like way.

Geto hums to himself, looking up at the ceiling of the restaurant in thought, “Well, he was mostly boring, to be honest.”

“Surprisingly strong, even though he was so small.” Gojo smirks with the last of his words.

“He had emo kid bangs.” Geto chuckles.

Riku gasps excitedly, now extremely interested in this conversation, “No. Fucking. Way. I need to see that.” She grins.

“Hold on,” Geto pulls out his phone, “I think there’s an old pic on my Kaisensta account somewhere…” He begins to search, scrolling through various pages with his thumb.

Both the waitress and chef then return to their booth, each holding large trays with various assortments of dim sum, and a whole roasted duck that was neatly sliced. Riku thanks them, deciding to start with a few soup dumplings and a baked barbeque pork bun once they place the food down.

Riku smiles at the spread of food before her, picking up the pair of chopsticks neatly tucked in her white napkin before flattening it over her lap. She picks up, blows on, and takes a bite of one of the soup dumplings – quickly slurping up the bit of broth that flows out of the opening she’s created and humming a small noise of appreciation for the delicious flavors. It’s far better than the food was at the gala.

“It’s so good…!” She cups her hand over her mouth as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Told you.” Gojo says with an expression that says ‘you should’ve listened to me’, in the middle of grabbing a few slices of duck with his chopsticks.

Geto finally ceases in his scrolling, then breaks into an all-out guffaw. He turns his phone towards Gojo first – who nearly chokes on his duck from laughing so hard.

“Oh my god, let me see!” Riku says after swallowing her food, smiling brightly. When Geto turns his phone in her direction, she instantly joins in on the duo’s laughing with a cackle of her own, throwing her head back as she did so. In the picture, Nanami’s high school frame is much different – compared to his current, that is. In the picture he’s standing on a beach, shirtless with a coconut in hand. He’s much shorter and skinnier, and his hair is far longer as he has a long blond bang that covers most of his face.

“You have to send me that…!” Riku’s laugh fades into a giggle.

Geto screenshots the picture then navigates to his camera roll before looking to Riku and passing her his phone, “Here, send it to yourself. And put your contact in, too.”

Riku puts her chopsticks down and picks up Geto’s, looking down at his phone and beginning to do as he says.

“Oh,” Gojo speaks up, putting his chopsticks down on the table as well before retrieving his phone from his pocket. He unlocks and pokes it in Riku’s direction, “Put your number in mine, too. You know, for emergency purposes and shit.” He smirks, obviously joking.

*

Riku sits alone in the booth, as Gojo and Geto had gone to a room in the back for business-related reasons. She doesn’t know the reason why, as both men had ignored her when she asked what for. So they can ignore her questions about choosing her own food but she can’t ignore their questions about following their orders? Bullshit.

Riku wonders what is going to happen now that the Zenin clan, or Toji and a few of his men, at least, had started an uprising and fucked up Gojo’s estate. What happened definitely wasn’t a good look for the Zenin clan either, as the gala was for the whole Tokyo Yakuza syndicate. Toji had made a move against all clans in doing what he did… Did he really think he could win a fight against everyone?

Riku suddenly has the urge to use the bathroom and rises from her seat, stepping out of the booth and striding towards the designated signs that mark the restroom’s location near the back of the restaurant.

When she enters a stall in the bathroom, she faintly hears the voices of Gojo and Geto in another backroom nearby. She tries to make out what they’re saying, but their voices are too muffled.

After washing her hands and leaving the restroom, Riku spots a door just across the small hallway with no one in it; she wonders if she could hear them better from in there… She looks around, seeing if anyone is watching her before deciding to enter the dimly-lit room. Riku slowly twists the knob on the door, careful not to make any noise as she opens it and slips in. It isn’t until she’s inside that she realizes it’s a meeting room, her eyes looking over the dark wood and oval-shaped table as well as the accompanying office chairs. What’s a meeting room doing in the back of a Chinese restaurant? Is this where Gojo and Geto had brought that last woman they’d mentioned – the one Little Jun hated for some reason?

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

Riku jumps at the sound of Gojo’s angered voice, spinning around to face the man – his sunglass spectacles raised and resting just above his hairline. He tosses them off onto the table.

“I-I got lost on the way to the bathroom!” Riku stutters out. She realizes it’s a bad lie but tries it anyways.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Gojo squints down at Riku and grabs her wrist, moving closer and closer until her back collides with the wall behind her. He pins Riku’s hand beside her head and stares down at her, “You just can’t stay out of other people’s business, can you? Here I am trying to save Tokyo from a gang war, and you can’t even sit your pretty ass down for ten minutes.”

Riku presses Gojo’s abdomen with her free hand, trying to push him back but instead meeting the unmovable, rock-solid muscles that ripple beneath his white dress shirt.

Gojo quickly makes work of her wrists, gathering both of them with the fingers of his left hand while squeezing his right hand on the side of her ass, “You need to be taught a lesson.” He concludes, continuing to slide his hand up Riku’s body so his fingers brush over the smooth indent of her small waist. It’s a kind of touch that makes the muscles of her pelvic floor clench hard, and Riku both hates and loves how it immediately makes a sinful warmth and heaviness pool in her lower stomach. The fabric of her mini dress is thin, and she can feel each of Gojo’s fingers individually. Riku whimpers a moan so small, Gojo almost doesn’t catch it.

Gojo’s hand freezes, and he looks from Riku’s face, to his hand on her waist, and back to her face again as he repeats the motion once more. Riku somehow finds enough resolve to not moan, but bites her bottom lip instead.

Gojo smiles wickedly, understanding that he’s just found Riku’s erogenous zone, “Shit, babe, what are you, touch deprived or something…?” He says low, just loud enough so she can hear.

Riku doesn’t say anything, but the answer rings throughout her head. Yes. She can’t remember the last time she felt this excited. Riku shuts her eyes tightly, trying to think about anything else other than Gojo’s touch, but her body betrays her after about a minute of Gojo’s fingers sliding over and massaging her waist, hips jutting forward ever so slightly. A similarly light moan falls from Riku’s lips. She opens her eyes again to find Gojo still staring down at her, but now with a bit of desperation in his sharp, blue gaze.

“Fuck, Riku… Your voice is so sweet, wanna hear you say my name.” Breaths noticeably growing heavier, Gojo quickly closes the small gap between them, pressing his lips to Riku’s in a strong, hungry kiss. When Riku opens her mouth for a second, Gojo instantly takes advantage of the situation and slips his tongue in to deepen their kiss. Riku doesn’t fight Gojo’s pace, only feeling a hot pressure pleasurably fill her abdomen even further.

Suddenly, the hand on Riku’s waist departs and she senses the fabric of her dress being pushed up before feeling two long fingers press to her clothed pussy. The sensation makes Riku break their kiss with a gasp. Gojo moves his head back a bit, making sure to study Riku’s face as he starts to rub the pads of his fingers in a circular motion on her clit through the lace fabric of her panties.

“Ah—!” Riku half gasps, half moans out, voice a lot louder than before.

Gojo finally lets her wrists go and instead slips his hand around the soft skin of her neck, only applying a fair amount of pressure so she can still breathe, “You’re drenched,” he notes, “No way you just got this wet… You’ve been horny since the car ride, haven’t you? You slut.” He pauses, cocking his head to one side with a devious smile, “Liked the way Suguru touched you, too, huh?”

“Someone call me?”

Both Riku and Gojo’s heads turn in the direction of the door to find Geto inside the room, leaning back against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and smirking at the scene before him. How did they not hear him come in?!

Beyond embarrassed, Riku instinctively wriggles around in Gojo’s hold, trying to pull her dress back down and cover herself up. Gojo doesn’t move his hands on her neck nor panties, though, keeping Riku pinned against the wall.

Geto’s hand slips behind his back, distinctly turning the lock on the door before approaching the two others, a heated look in his eyes. The click of the lock makes Riku’s body quiver then still, a sick jolt of excitement pleasantly electrifying her stomach as the man walked towards them.

This is going to be fun. But Riku doesn’t want to give the two men the satisfaction of admitting it. She feels her heart pulse loud and heavily all over her body but especially in her neck, where Gojo is still holding her. She was sure that the white-haired man could feel how excited she was.

“Yeah, actually,” Gojo finally answers his friend, “Was just telling her how much of a depraved slut she is for liking our touch so much.”

“No, I’m no-”

Gojo cuts her off, “I mean she’s already this wet,” he explains, raising his fingers up to the dim light in the room, the shine of their dampness just barely visible.

“Let me see,” Geto grins.

Gojo uses his knee to gently nudge Riku’s legs further apart and Geto slides his hand between them, lips making a small ‘o’ shape as he instantly feels the wetness that soaks the thin fabric of her underwear, “Damn, Riku, if you wanted us this bad you should’ve said something... Your panties are fucking ruined.” He chuckles the last few words out, gently rubbing the flat of his fingers back and forth over her thinly covered clit.

Riku cries out a helpless, soft moan, trying to keep her voice down as they were still in a restaurant.

Geto leans in to press his lips to her ear, “The hell are you back here for, anyway?” He gives her clit a particularly meaningful stroke and her hips buck further into his palm, “Looking for trouble?” He chuckles, “You just can’t stay away from it, can you?”

Riku looks between Gojo and Geto, both men towering over her – their devilish eyes full of hunger.

“No…” Riku admits, beside herself as she’s turned on beyond belief. Right now, all she wants is for these men to ruin her.

“So now you admit it?” Gojo asks, his friend turning to face him.

Geto changes the subject, recalling something from earlier in the night, “Hm… You know, Satoru, she may be a smart-mouthed brat, but she is the reason we had a chance to escape earlier,” he notes, “maybe we should play nice and let her cum as a thank you.”

“A thank you?!” Gojo quirks a brow at his friend in opposition, “I wanted to teach her a lesson…” The white-haired man thinks for a minute, “But we don’t have enough time for that tonight. You’re right; let’s make her cum. Maybe then she’ll stay her ass out of trouble for longer than a minute.” He returns his eyes to Riku, squeezing his hand a bit tighter on her throat to really choke her for a moment, “That’s what you want, right?”

It takes a while, but Riku eventually finds a way to breathe with Gojo’s hand on her neck, thighs squeezing together as Geto continued to knead his fingers between her legs, “Yes…” she nods, already beginning to melt into a complete mess before the two men.

He loosens his grip at her reply, “Good girl.” Gojo turns to Geto once more, “You wanna do the honors, Suguru? Finish what you started?”

“I guess it’s only right…” Geto smirks, sinking to his knees before yanking at the band of Riku’s lace underwear. His fingers tug harsher than intended, easily snapping the drenched fabric in his hand, “Whoops.” He gazes up at Riku with a look that is anything but apologetic. The broken remains fall around her ankle.

Gojo stands to the side and Riku whimpers when Geto lifts her leg that is closest to the white-haired man; they exchange it, Gojo retrieving Riku’s leg from the other and in awe at how easy it is to prop up beside her head. She’s far more flexible than he’d expected. Gojo whistles once with raised brows.

“Dancer,” Geto reminds Gojo, appreciating this new view of Riku’s exposed pussy before his eyes, “gotta love ‘em.” He doesn’t waste any time, greeting the lips below her waist with a hot lick before lapping and sucking at her clit.

Even with Gojo’s hand at her neck, Riku thinks she’ll moan too loud, so she presses her hand to her mouth as a muffled, messy groan escapes it. She tries to regain some sort of composure, fingers moving from her lips to tangle in Geto’s long hair as he started to slurp and prod her clit with his tongue. There’s a wildly shocked and heated expression on Riku’s face as she then looks down at Geto, her brown eyes stretched wide in pleasure as she met his small black ones that peered up at her, “Ohmygodfuck—” Riku moans out, just above a whisper. She doesn’t think she’s ever had head as good as this, especially when the man begins to give small, controlled, and repetitive licks to the areas of her clit and lips that make her moan the loudest.

Gojo pushes his hand back towards the wall, forcing Riku’s neck back up so that she looks at him instead of down at Geto. He easily uses his other hand to rest her leg over his shoulder, “Suguru’s really good with his mouth, yeah?” He murmurs, “Tell me how much you like it, baby.”

“I-I like it…!” Riku whines softly, not breaking her eye contact with Gojo.

“Hm, that’s not specific enough.” He says, disappointed, before squeezing her neck a little more, “What do you like, again?”

“Hah, I… I l-like Suguru eating me out!” Riku stutters.

He offers her a loving smile at her answer, loosening his fist around her throat once more, “That’s right, you like him eating you out, don’t you? You’re such a greedy fucking brat. All that attitude and now you’re just a submissive little slut when you get what you want.” He snickers to himself, noticing the tears at the corners of her eyes, “I think you’re gonna make her cry, Suguru!”

Geto pauses for a second, parting with the folds of her pussy with a wet kiss, “You like it that much, Riku?” He places another kiss on her clit, which causes her hips to jut forward, “You gonna cry f’me?” He reunites his mouth with her drenched pussy lips, beginning to lick a bit faster.

“’M gonna cum…!” Riku moans out, feeling herself begin to approach her orgasm much quicker with Geto’s sudden change of pace. She smooths her hand over his straight black hair.

“Already? That’s pathetic.” He mocks, clearly humiliating Riku, but it only excites her further. Gojo breathes hotly in Riku’s ear, taking a moment to suck her earlobe before popping it from his lips, “Go ahead and cum, then.”

Riku’s voice heightens, her eyes rolling back for a fraction of a second and breathing temporarily stopping before Gojo slams his mouth onto hers with a deep kiss, absorbing the loud, guttural scream that follows with the deep intensity of her climax. Riku’s entire body shudders with the waves of her orgasm and Gojo pulls away with a final peck, watching with satisfaction as tears of pleasure roll down her reddened cheeks.

Geto continues to lick Riku’s clit through her high, her hips jerking forward into his mouth with each wave of it. He finally parts with her folds, placing a small peck on her inner thigh before retreating.

Riku feels tired when she comes down from her orgasm, breathing hard and eyelids heavy with exhaustion when Gojo places her leg back down and Geto rises to his feet – her wetness all over his chin.

Gojo rubs his thumb over his friend’s wet lips and chin, popping it into his mouth to taste Riku’s sexual flavor, “Hm,” he notes, “she is sweet.”

“Mhm,” Geto agrees, turning his heated gaze to Riku, “You should taste yourself, Riku.” He says, before softly cupping her cheeks, wiping her tears, and offering her a slow, passionate, open-mouthed kiss. There’s an unplaced, romantic feeling in the way Geto kisses – compared to Gojo’s more harsh style – and Riku’s face blushes a deeper red to that and the taste of her juices all over his tongue.

Gojo watches them go on for a moment, then suddenly grows impatient, “Alright, you two. Break it up.” He pushes Geto and Riku away from each other, and the two men then back up so she isn’t pinned against the wall anymore.

Riku giggles at Gojo’s mild jealousy and the way he’d broken her and Geto’s kiss, the black-haired man laughing along with her. She removes the broken lace fabric of her panties from her ankle and pushes her dress back down, smoothing it out a bit.

“Now, you think you can stay out of trouble for the rest of the night?” Geto asks Riku, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He suddenly slips his hand beneath his pants, adjusting his erection there so it’s not as obvious and uncomfortably pressing up against the material of it.

Riku shamelessly watches, biting her lip as she began to imagine the size of it from his large bulge, “Yes.” She answers with a nod, perfectly content and obedient in her response.

“Hey,” Gojo suddenly spanks Riku’s ass, offended for his friend, “say thank you to Suguru.”

Riku jumps at the smack to her rear, standing up straighter, “Sorry! Thank you, Suguru!”

Geto laughs, “You’re welcome, beautiful.”

Gojo slaps his friend’s crotch, then rubs his hand over Geto’s adjusted erection, “I mean look how hard he is…” Riku doesn’t miss this sinful interaction of theirs, really beginning to better understand Gojo and Geto’s sexual dynamic. Fuck, they’re so hot.

Geto sucks in a breath to the slight pain from Gojo’s slap, glaring over at him, “You’re hard, too,” he notes, then faces Riku while still talking to his friend, “I mean wouldn’t you like to fuck her right here over the meeting table?”

Gojo shifts to cup the substantial outline of his own erection with one hand, suddenly reaching down to fist Riku’s hair bun with his other, “Yeah, but she’d have to beg for us to do that…” He grins wickedly, “And we gotta get her home, don’t we?”

Riku’s blushes at the the fact that both men are aroused by her; the sole idea makes her feel powerful and a heated yet cocky expression takes over her face.

Geto laughs when he imagines how much of a mess Riku would be if they fucked her right now, “Probably would pass out from cumming so much, too, and I doubt this one knows how to stay quiet with a dick inside her…” He glides a finger under Riku’s chin and smirks.

The white-haired man lets go of her bun and gently swipes his thumb over Riku’s swollen cheek with a sigh, “So much to teach this slut, so little time.”

*

“Wake up, brat, you’re home.”

Riku feels a hand gently shake her and she stirs awake in the back of the SUV, rubbing her eyes and slowly rising from her side to sit up on the leather seat. She turns toward the open car door to find Gojo and Geto standing by the opening, the suit jacket that had been tucked around her body falling from her shoulders like a blanket.

Riku blinks sleepily at the two men in silence, and Gojo smirks down at her, brushing away loose curls from her face that had fallen from her bun then offering her his hand, “God, you’re fucking cute.”

Riku takes Gojo’s hand as she steps out of the car, using the support of his arm to ease down onto the ground, “Thank you.” Of course, now she has manners.

“Sure thing, babes.” He looks up at the Ozaki estate, “Nice spot you got. You should give us a tour sometime.”

“Anytime.” She muses, before turning to give Gojo a goodbye hug. Her nose presses to his chest and she inhales deeply, smelling a hint of citrus notes in his scent as he locks his arms around her in a tight embrace. Gojo could be mean, but Riku feels safe in his arms, like she could really relax in his presence.

They had been through a lot, today, so she was truly appreciative of the man’s strength.

When Gojo lets her go, Riku then turns to hug Geto, who holds her in a much more intimate way. His arms snake around her body, tenderly sliding his hands over the smooth curve of her arched lower back before rubbing it in circles with his long fingers. Riku buries her face in the crook of Geto’s neck, smelling the mahogany and amber in his cologne. His touch is so sweet. Riku appreciates the careful way he touches her and feels like Geto could take care of her every need and desire - no matter what. He lightly pecks her hair with a kiss.

Geto releases her, all three of them watching as Nanami emerges from the home and steps forward into the shine of the car’s headlights. He checks his watch, “It’s almost 4-fucking-A.M., you know.” He says shortly; it was obvious he hadn’t gotten any sleep while waiting for Riku to return, “Would’ve picked you up, myself, but had to watch the rest of the family, too.”

“Sorry we’re late, Ken,” Riku sings the words apologetically, “but I’m here. And I’m fine!” She says with outstretched arms, before goofily waving them around to prove all her limbs are present and functional.

Nanami wears a confused expression – half out of sleep deprivation, half out of curiosity to why Riku is suddenly in such a good mood. She’s usually far more irritable…

Geto chuckles, “You’ve really got your hands full with this one, Nanami.”

Nanami sighs heavily, and Riku begins to approach him, arms still outstretched and ready to embrace him in an ‘I’m home’ hug. He bypasses it, instead grabbing her chin to examine her swollen cheek in the headlights.

“Make sure she ices that, and that she stays out of trouble for a little while… We’ll call you and Jin, or stop by with any updates on the situation.” Geto confirms, and Riku yawns.

Nanami doesn’t like taking orders from people who aren’t paying him, but he nods, simply relieved that Riku is home safe for the time being. He continues to squint down at her, finally letting go of her chin and instead grabbing her forearm, “Oh, she’s not leaving my sight these next few days.” He directs his next words only to Riku, “Seriously, if you so much as use the bathroom, I’m standing outside the stall.”

“Ow,” Riku complains at Nanami’s grip on her arm, though it really doesn’t hurt much. She pouts up at her bodyguard with big eyes, batting her eyelashes and using her sweet voice as she knows how much it usually affects him, “I’m sorry, Ken. I promise I won’t kick anymore high rank yakuza in the balls. You don’t have to watch me so close.”

“Not working this time.” Nanami’s expression remains cold as he peers down at Riku. He then looks to Gojo and Geto, offering them a small wave and beginning to pull her along towards the house, “Thanks, Satoru. Suguru. I still have a job because of you two.”

Gojo waves back, moving around the SUV and back towards the driver’s side, “Sure, Nanamin.” He smiles, “Call us if anything happens, yeah? Bye, Riku!”

“See you, Nanami.” Geto pulls the passenger door open with one hand and waves with his other, “Be good, Riku.”

Riku frowns, pulling her arm out of Nanami’s grasp as they approached the front of the Ozaki estate, “Ugh, you’re such a drag.” Her face turns from pleading to annoyed in an instant.

Nanami pulls one of the huge wooden double-doors open for Riku to enter before him, “You could’ve died.” He emphasizes.

Riku rolls her eyes, “You don’t know that!” She whispers, aware of the time as her family is most likely fast asleep throughout their home. As large as it is, the interior of their property unfortunately had traditional, paper-thin walls.

Nanami sighs for what must have been the hundredth time tonight, “We’ll talk in the morning. Just go the fuck to sleep.”

“Was planning to, anyways.” She says, irritated as she makes a beeline for her room. Riku always has to have the last word.

“Oh, and by the way, I moved into the room connected to yours.”

“Ew, why?! Stalker!” She whisper-shouts, annoyed by the idea of having to share a closer space with the other – even if her room was huge.

“Call it what you want. I’m not letting you die because of your stupid decisions.” Nanami follows behind Riku but stops at the sliding door that’s just before hers. Before he enters the room, he pauses – then retrieves something square-shaped from his pocket before and tosses it to Riku, “Goodnight.”

Riku catches the freezing-cold block, realizing it’s an ice pack. Before she can thank or say anything else to the other, he’s already inside and closing the door to the room beside hers, “Night, Ken.”

*

In the morning, though still asleep, Riku vaguely feels a repetitive tapping on her thigh and groans tiredly, only resolving to turn on her other side beneath her blanket and hope the annoying tapping would stop.

It continues, “Riku.”

She groans louder at the sound of Nanami’s voice.

“Riku, wake up.”

She peeks a single eye open, feeling it burn at the bright sunlight that poured into her room through her floor length windows – which face their clan property’s Japanese style garden. She doesn’t expect Nanami to be as close as he is, hovering directly over her form with his inspecting gaze.

“Breakfast is ready. You should eat something.” Nanami reaches his hand towards Riku to cup her cheek, gently brushing his fingers over it, “Your cheek looks worse, but the swelling’s gone down a lot…”

Riku finally opens both eyes, stretching her limbs out like a cat beneath her covers and quickly remembering that she’d only put on a t-shirt to sleep in last night out of exhaustion and is completely bare underneath. She still needs to shower, too. Riku pushes Nanami’s hand away, closing her eyes again briefly, “Go away. I’m sleepy, and I’m naked.” She groans, clearly annoyed from Nanami waking her up. She doesn’t hear anything for a few seconds and opens her eyes once more out of curiosity.

Nanami gazes down at at her with look of surprise, cheeks reddened just slightly as he is clearly caught off guard by the thought of Riku’s naked body beneath the sheets. He then rises to his feet from the tatami mat floor, giving her some space, “You still have work today, don’t you?”

Riku rubs her fingers over her eyelids, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the light in the room, “shouldn’t this be enough to take a day off?” She then points to her bruised cheek, but quickly follows her own words with a sigh, “No, I need to do some hours. The Minami dance studio is being remodeled today. I’ll just wear makeup or something.” Riku sits up a little, her long black hair messy and scattered about her face and shoulders. Though they share a similar natural texture, unlike Umika’s shoulder-length hair and now freed from the hair bun, Riku’s curls reach the center of her back.

When Nanami doesn’t move, Riku speaks up again, still grumpy as she’d much rather be unconscious right now, “I gotta shower, so you can go now.”

“Fine but hurry up.” He says, turning to walk back towards the sliding door that connects their rooms.

When Nanami leaves her room, Riku throws the duvet off of her body. She disconnects her phone from its long-corded charger and checks the time. 8:16.

There are a few worried messages from Umika and Uncle Jin that she hadn’t seen or checked last night, but she figured Nanami had kept them informed about the situation. Just then her ringtone chimes and ‘SUGURU GETO’ flashes over the screen. Riku sits up as a small jolt of excitement rushes through her, a smile on her lips as she answers, “Hi.”

“Hi. Good morning, Riku.” Geto coos the words but especially her name, and the sweet tone of his voice makes Riku’s smile grow even further.

“Good morning.” She mirrors his alluring voice with her own.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine – my cheek looks a little worse but the swelling isn’t as bad.” She muses, beginning to stand and step out of her futon.

“Good. That means it’s healing. You not in pain anywhere else?”

“Not really,” Riku ponders for a second, “I mean my back is kind of tight but I think that's mostly from work.”

“You should come to my onsen sometime.”

Riku strides over to the vanity in the corner of her room and sits down on its stool, “Oh yeah, I do remember a friend telling me about the Suguru clan hot spring. Is it nice?”

“It’s the best, beautiful. Come by and I’ll treat you to anything you want. An exfoliating scrub, a full-body massage, a facial…” he trails off, suggestively, “we even have private spa rooms and pools.”

Riku pauses to Geto’s response, turning up the sweet and breathy licentiousness in her voice just for him, “Suguru, you trying to get me naked in a private spa with you?” She smirks, unable to help herself as she plays with one of the curls at her shoulder.

“Of course. How else am I gonna rub that tight little back of yours? Can think of some other things you need massaged, too…”

“Oh yeah, baby?” Riku says, wantonly, “I guess I’ll have to pay you a visit, then.” She says, the smile on her face salacious.

“Come by anytime after work, just call me. Promise it’ll be worth the drive.”

Riku can’t help but enjoy the lowness of Geto’s voice and nudges her ear closer to the speaker on her phone, “Okay, then, it’s a date. I’ll call you after work.”

“Good. Gojo and I have quite the number of meetings today, but I’ll meet you there later in the afternoon. Try to stay out of trouble for me in the meantime, alright Ri?”

“I’ll be good. Talk later, Suguru.”

“Later, beautiful.”

Riku ends the call, unable to restrain the giddy giggle of excitement that runs through her when she does.

When Riku begins to think about what clothes she’ll wear for work today, and what she’ll bring for her date, her ringtone chimes once again. She turns her phone over in her hand, seeing it has no caller-ID. She simply looks at the screen, thumb hovering over the screen for a moment until she reluctantly presses the ‘answer’ icon.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Riku. Or do you go by Reina?”

Riku’s stomach instantly sinks at the sound of the husky, disgusting-sounding voice on the line, immediately recalling it as the same voice she’d heard yesterday. Her heart begins to pound its way up to her throat, and she’s so frozen with fear she almost can’t speak, “T-Toji…” She chokes out. How did he find me so fast?

He chuckles sickly, “What you did yesterday wasn’t very nice, now was it?”

Riku doesn’t answer; she feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest.

“I’m gonna have to carve you up into pieces for that, bitch.” His voice turns serious, any playfulness in it replaced and cemented with pure evil, “Shame since you’re so pretty… Maybe I should make you my personal toy instead?”

Riku feels like she’s going to throw up out of fear and disgust. She hastily pulls the phone from her ear, immediately ending the call and blocking the number - though it probably won’t help much since the man already has her number.

Riku throws the phone across the room and it crashes into the wall with a loud clack. She roughly rakes her fingers through her hair, anxiously shaking as her chest rose and fell with each shuddering breath.

Shit.

[orivaa-kun]

BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 1: About That Life

chapter word count: 8k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Riku groans when she hears her phone alarm chime for the fourth time tonight but begins to stir beneath the covers of her futon. All she wanted to do was rest after a long day of work – but it was that time of year again, the night of the annual gala for all Tokyo Yakuza clans.

Riku hears footsteps in the hall outside of her room, “You better be getting ready in there,” her cousin Umika warns, before swiftly sliding the screen door open and flicking on the lights. Umika sighs at the sight of Riku still in bed and shakes her head, “Typical.” Umika is already wearing her fitted, black maxi dress with lace sleeves that’s rose pattern beautifully curled around the deep tan skin of her arms. Her hair is blown out into big ringlet curls that fell around her face and reached her shoulders.

“The fuck are we celebrating, anyways… another year of crime?” Riku grumbles and throws the covers over her own head.

Umika sighs, crossing her arms as she stood in the doorway, “Riku, you know this is about showing respect to the top clans. Not going would be disrespectful in itself. Also, that crime paid for this house, so show a little appreciation, yeah?”

Riku doesn’t know why she tries to reason with Umika of all people, but continues to anyways, “But shouldn’t Uncle Jin be enough? He’s the leader of the clan, and you’re his heir!” She pulls the covers down to look at Umika.

“Look, I don’t make the rules. You get invited to the gala, you go. If you don’t, bad shit happens, and our whole family takes the hit. That’s it. Now get off your ass!”

Riku moans in feigned agony, “Fine.” She slips out of her futon, beginning to fold it up on the tatami covered floor.

“And you better hurry, too; my dad is already on the way there.” Umika begins to slide the screen door back, leaving Riku’s room, “We’re leaving in 15!”

“You hate me!” Riku shouts, dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah…” Umika waves the comment away, already down the hall once more.

When Riku appears in the main room, she’s wearing a champagne-colored, silk, and sleeveless mini dress that shimmered under the light. Without time to flat iron or do much of anything to her hair, she’d decided to wear her jet black curls in a neat, high bun, and dedicated the bulk of her 15 minutes to doing a quick ‘no-makeup’ makeup look. She fumbles her hand around in her white and black leather-lined clutch, making sure she has the essentials, “Umika, do you know where my black hee-”

Umika raises the pair of black, red-bottoms up in the air, already approaching the front door, “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Umika~!” Riku smiles over at her cousin lovingly, which is promptly ignored.

Nanami glances up from his phone at Umika’s announcement, eyes widening briefly when he sees Riku. He stands and whistles, taking a moment to admire her long legs and the glow of her café au lait skin, “Wow, you look nice-”

Riku smiles, about to thank him but is cut off by his next words.

“-was beginning to think you only wore sweatpants and t-shirts.” The blonde teases, smirking. Nanami wore an all-black suit tonight, different from his usual tan and blue shirt combination. He’s only 4 years older than Riku (25) and 2 years older than Umika (27), but he’s always far more serious about his work, that is, unless he’s having a drink with friends or cracking jokes at Riku’s expense.

She frowns, “You know, Kento, a clan bodyguard should be a lot nicer than you are.” Riku heads to the door and retrieves her heels from Umika before slipping into them.

Nanami follows behind her to activate the automatic lock on the door, “A clan bodyguard protects the clan,” he shrugs, “sorry sweetheart, not obligated to do anything else.” He begins to set up the home security system from his phone app as they make their way outside.

“Isn’t our family still ranked 11th out of the 15 clans in Tokyo?” Riku asks, genuinely, “Why do we have to go to this thing after all these damn years?” She briefly looks over the massive, combined traditional and modern style Japanese property that she and the whole Ozaki clan call home – though, it had been a bit empty with Uncle Jin and others out on business. As always, Umika and Riku were left to handle the day-to day tasks of their family’s businesses while their elders have other issues to attend to.

The trio approaches the black Chevy SUV parked in the center of the driveway circle, and Nanami opens the back door for the two women, “Your family is ranked 10th now, and though the rankings are based on each clan’s strength and annual generated revenue, we all still work together…”

“…to contribute to the Tokyo syndicate.” Riku choruses the last part with Nanami as she slips into the car behind Umika, having heard this sentence uttered at least a hundred times by Tokyo clan leaders. She rolls her eyes, “I know. Just seems useless for us to be traveling an hour into and out of the city to play dress up and drink expensive champagne... when we could, you know, be resting so we can actually have the energy to run all our damn studios, museums, and concert venues, ya know?”

Nanami closes the door once Riku is inside then slips into the driver’s seat before starting the car, “Ri, I’m already working overtime protecting you two today – you don’t have to convince me.” He begins to steer the SUV out of the circle and onto the main stretch of driveway that led to a large glossy black and bronze gate that slowly began to open at Nanami’s press of a button beside the rear-view mirror.

“You’re mistaken, Riku,” Umika speaks up, in the midst of typing up an email for something that was most likely business related, “this is part of the job.”

Riku lets her cousin’s words sink in. Well, Umika isn’t wrong about that. For a minute, Riku wonders how many other members of the Tokyo Yakuza would rather not be at the gala tonight.

“Ken, can you turn the music up?” Riku asks; it would be a long ride, after all.

“Sure thing, Ms. Ozaki.” Nanami nearly coos with a bit of extra formality, mostly because he knows how much Riku hates being addressed by her clan and family name.

*

When they arrive at the Gojo clan’s estate – well, one of the Gojo clan’s many estates in Tokyo – Nanami exits the driver’s seat and opens the back door for Umika and Riku before offering his hand to help each of them step down from the SUV. He meets eyes with Riku when she takes his hand, “Ma’am.”

“Shut up, Kento.”

He smirks just barely, then closes the door and tosses the keys to the valet.

There are two guards in all black suits and shades who nod at each other after sizing the three of them up, then move to open the main door to the conglomerate of mansion-like buildings. If the Ozaki home is massive, this is… simply otherworldly. It would take hours just to walk through the entire estate once. While one of the guards taps the com in his ear and mumbles something about the rest of the Ozaki family invitees entering, Riku glances over the expansive acres of property that she had only seen a few times before in years past. She takes in and notes the obvious Roman and British influences on the structure of the main building’s pillars, marble work, courtyard, and ivory shading. As visually overwhelming as the estate is, she can’t deny it is the perfect place to host hundreds of wealthy yakuza assholes.

The main door opens and the talkative noise of gangsters chatting and live musicians playing in the great ballroom immediately hits their ears. Two women in uniform check them for weapons then greet and welcome them in the entryway. The artist in Riku can’t help but hate the elaborate combination of white marble and gold all over the floors and walls; it was too stuffy and there was hardly any real sense of artistic intention driving the floor plan nor décor of this mansion, other than money, “Ugh… they call this a home?” Riku says beneath her breath, mostly to Umika who walked beside her, “Gross. How could anyone seriously live here?”

“Shh!” Umika quickly retorts, “Not the time!!” She whisper yells between closed teeth.

A uniformed man with a tray of champagne flutes strides over, and Riku takes a glass while Umika waves her hand at the man to decline. If Riku has to be here, she at least wants something to bear it a little easier. She takes a long sip from the glass as Umika scans the ballroom for her father, finally catching sight of Jin Ozaki who just happens to be at one of the bars shaking hands with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto – the youngest and strongest clan leaders of the Tokyo syndicate. That said, they are still about Nanami’s age. There’s an overwhelming presence from that side of the room in general, and Riku doesn’t want to be anywhere near it.

“Oh great, it’s your friends.” Riku remembered Nanami sharing that he’d gone to the same private school with Gojo and Geto. She takes another, much longer sip from her glass, nearly finishing it.

“I’m gonna say hi to dad and some folks. You coming?” Umika asks, with zero excitement in her voice.

“Over there? Absolutely not.” Riku shakes her head. Gojo and Geto are the strongest for a reason and isn’t just because of their clans’ combined manpower and money. It’s because of their dangerously powerful business skills and practices. They are ruthless when it comes to advancing their goals and clan business ventures and aren’t afraid to use violence to get what they want – or so Riku hears, “I’ll catch up with Uncle Jin at our table.”

Riku strides over to the seated area where a gala waitress directs her to her table. Riku thanks her when they arrive at a table with a card in the center that reads ‘10’… 10th place out of the 15 families… of course, she thinks, “Thank you, I don’t know you all remember all these names to be able to direct us so easily…” Riku says in an apologetic tone, sitting in the seat that had her name card in front of it. Of course, her seat faces the back of the room instead of the stage and she would have to twist her neck just to look at the front. She isn’t from a top ranked clan and isn’t even the heir of the family. It all makes sense, but that doesn’t make this petty seating bullshit any less annoying.

The waitress rubs the back of her neck with a shy laugh, “Hah, it’s just part of the job, ma’am. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait for the rest of the Ozaki family?” The dining area is practically empty as most are socializing over near the open bars and live music.

“Uh, yes. Can I get a really strong old fashioned, and another glass of champagne?” Riku tucks her clutch next to her in the seat and neatly folds her hands over her lap.

“Of course, Ms. Ozaki!” As soon as the words leave the waitress’s mouth, a man in uniform appears behind her and is already refilling her flute, “Just a moment for the old fashioned.” She smiles in a practiced yet kind way.

Riku nods and the woman disappears. Riku releases a soft sigh as her eyes trail over the whole ballroom, squinting a bit as she she now sees Nanami and Geto laughing and clinking glasses of whiskey, while Umika chats with some friends of hers on the opposite side of the room. Part of her wonders where Gojo and Uncle Jin had gone but she doesn’t try to think much about it. For all she knows they could be in a back room talking business or something.

Riku opens the clutch at her side to check her phone for the time. 21:40. It would be 20 minutes until the gala starts, “20 minutes closer to getting the fuck out of here…” She mutters under her breath.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

Riku turns in her seat to find two men standing behind her, one with his hand on her chair, “Hi,” she manages in a voice that is more customer-service sounding than authentic. The man with his hand on her chair seems to be in his late 30s and wears a flashy burgundy suit, while the other looks to be in his 40s and has on a gold-colored tux. Both are fashion choices that make Riku want to throw up in her mouth a little bit.

“What’s your name, sexy?” The one in the burgundy suit questions with a crooked smirk; both men look like they’ve undoubtedly been in countless fights with the many tiny scars littered around their hands and faces.

“Reina, nice to meet you,” she lied instinctively, offering her hand to shake with the man in burgundy then the one in the gold suit. She did not want her real first name floating around with whoever these guys were friends with. “You two are…?” She waits for the men to share their names.

“Reina? That’s pretty,” the man in burgundy replies, “I’m Akio, and he’s Kaito. We’re Zenin clan muscle.” Of course. Even with all their internal and external issues, the Zenin clan deals in weapons and has continued to rank 3rd for over 20 years now. Their sheer brutality is undoubtedly a big reason behind it.

Kaito lifts Riku’s hand to his mouth to kiss, instead of shaking it.

Literally kill me right now. Riku thinks to herself, continuing to feign a smile, “Haha, thank you…”

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing all by herself?” Kaito steps closer, both men towering over Riku as she’s still sitting and they’re pretty tall, themselves.

“Just waiting on my family, and bodyguard to sit down.” Riku emphasizes the last part, but the men pay no mind. They were far too busy raking their all-too-conspicuous eyes over every inch of her body. This is what Riku dreads about these kinds of functions. She glances over to where she last saw Nanami, but he’s still drinking with Geto. What do we even pay him for?

“Right,” Akio dismisses Riku’s words with his tone, breaking his gaze with her to glance over at the table; he spots the big number ’10,’ “Ten… that’s the Ozaki family this year – right, Kai?’

“Mhm.” Kaito nods affirmatively, “Who knew they had girls like this in the Ozaki family?”

“Hard to tell when they’ve never ranked under 10 before.” Akio says, and the two man laugh. “Can’t even see if they’re ugly or not, since they’re so damn far from our tables at the front of the ballroom!” He adds and their laughter turns into an all-out guffaw.

Riku’s fake smile quickly falters into a glare, “Well at least I’m not in the same family as you incestuous, murder-loving motherfuckers with dicks for brains. What’s wrong? Got tired of keeping it in the family and wanna hit on me? What will your sister-wives think?” Riku mocks, boldly. The whole ‘keeping it in the bloodline’ thing is more of a yakuza rumor, but Riku knows how much Zenin folks hate hearing it.

The men’s laughter comes to an immediate halt. Kaito bends over so his face is hardly a few centimeters from Riku’s, and Akio’s knuckles turn white at the tightness of his grasp on Riku’s chair, the wood creaking beneath his strong grip, “The fuck did you say, bitch?” Kaito questions, nearly spitting the words at her.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not afraid to teach a low rank cunt a lesson, even if she is yakuza.” Akio says, still standing up straight but glaring down at Riku, “Might even be fun, too.” He grins, sickly.

And the danger of the situation doesn’t hit Riku until this very moment. She tries to remain calm and keep her facial expression cool, but it’s more than obvious that she’s completely pissed these Zenin guys off, and she can’t help but fear how they might react.

Once again, her mouth had gotten her into trouble. Oops.

“Hey gentlemen, why don’t we keep things respectful and give the lady some space, hm?” A new voice enters their conversation, one Riku had only heard at a distance. It’s an unmistakable one.

Satoru Gojo placed his hands on the backs of the two Zenin men, and they’re ripped out of their anger-ridden trance at the sight of the white-haired man. He wears a royal blue, fitted 3-piece suit that is perfectly tailored to his tall and toned body. Small black spectacles sit low on the bridge of his nose so his cerulean eyes peek through.

The Zenin men back away, “Whatever,” Kaito mutters, shaking his head. Nobody wanted to fight Satoru Gojo. And now was not the time nor place.

Akio starts to walk away from the table with his friend by his side, “Better pray we don’t catch you alone again…” he taunts.

“Or what?” Gojo asks honestly with a dangerous glint in his eye. Riku’s pulse thumps loudly in her head when she feels the light pressure of his large hand on her shoulder.

Akio shakes his head, “Nothin’.” And the men depart to another section of the ballroom.

Gojo waits until the men are at a distance before focusing his attention to Riku.

“You good?” He takes his hand off her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Riku quickly collects herself, regaining her composure. She clears her throat, “I mean I had that covered, but thanks.”

Gojo blinks down at Riku a few times in complete silence, then suddenly bursts into laughter.

Riku feels her cheeks redden. It was that obvious she was in trouble?

When Gojo recovers from his fit of laughter, he taps Riku’s shoulder, “But seriously, beautiful, you should be more careful about what you say to these guys – sick as most of ‘em are.” Gojo suddenly drops into a squat so that he and Riku are nearly at eye level, his gaze just below hers, “What’s your name?”

The sudden proximity to Gojo makes her stagger over her words, “Reina.” Riku isn’t sure why she lies this time, perhaps out of nervous instinct?

“Reina, right.” Gojo briefly furrows his brows, “Ozaki family so you help handle the arts businesses in our city, right?”

“Yep. And you are…?” Riku asks, stretching her arm in Gojo’s direction and obviously acting as a sort of jab at Gojo. Everyone here knew who Gojo was, regardless if they’d met him personally or not. But something about his cool and confident nature makes Riku want to take him down a few notches.

“Satoru Gojo,” he chuckles out before lightly squeezing her hand, “well, if you need anything tonight, come find me, alright?” He continues to hold eye contact with Riku while he lightly flicks the name card in front of her that clearly displays her real name, “Nice to meet you, Riku Ozaki.” He winks at her, then stands before striding off towards the opposite side of the room and continuing to greet yakuza.

Riku puts her face into her hands, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

Just then the waitress reappears with Riku’s old fashioned and sets it down on the table, “Everything alright, ma’am?”

“Just perfect.”

*

Riku uses her fork to gently fiddle with the shrimp pasta she’d selected from the three gala menu options; it was okay, just not very flavorful. She sits beside her Aunt Risako - who’s Uncle Jin’s wife and cousin Umika’s mom. Nanami sat on the other side of her.

“You’re not going to eat?” Aunt Risako asks, cutting into her ribeye steak, “It’s good!” She smiled over at her niece, her short brown bob framing her face.

The room had finally quieted down as countless members from the 15 Tokyo families sat around their respective tables, talking, eating, and drinking between various gala speeches. Riku mirrors her aunts smile in return, “I will in a bit, just not that hungry now.”

Uncle Jin had already presented his talk about the recent venues our family had acquired and how it continues to increase our family’s income and contribution in an exponential way, but most of the families chatted through; they were far more interested in the Zenin’s talk about weapons or the Geto family’s speech about their drugs. No one cared about the arts much until it came time for entertainment.

A trio of spinning poles had been set up on the stage and Riku watches as three women pole dancers in elaborately lacy, tight costumes stroll out to dance their practiced routine. Riku recalls two of the girls’ faces, remembering that she’s she stood in to teach a handful of classes at their family’s dance studio a couple of times. Regardless, many of the men flock towards the stage to get a closer look, gawk at, and throw bills at the girls. It makes Riku want to step out for a moment. They’re not strippers, they’re pole dancers. There’s a big difference.

She pushes her chair a bit away from the table before standing and retrieving her clutch.

“Where you going?” Nanami asked, currently taking a bite of salmon.

“Bathroom.” Riku says, already waking back towards the ballroom entrance where the powder rooms and restrooms were. Riku is about to enter one but spots a more secluded bar that appears to be in a side room. She slides through the half open door’s small opening, which reveals a small yet extravagant lounge room and spread of countertop, a collection of old and expensive bottles on display behind the bar. There are only five yakuza inside and one single staff behind the bar, and this puts Riku’s mind at ease as she was happy to be away from the noise. She sits down on one of the leather bar stools, surprised by how comfy it was.

“Anything for you, ma’am?” The man behind the counter asks, wiping a class with a white rag.

Riku is already five drinks in, having had three glasses of champagne and two old fashioneds… She decides to tone it down a bit as her face was already beginning to feel warm, “Do you have a… sparkling chenin blanc by chance?”

“We do.” He smiles, “Loire Valley and all. Want to give it a try?”

“Yes, please.”

The man nods and starts to retrieve a bottle from a refrigerated shelf that’s still somehow covered in a thin sheet of dust; Riku doesn’t want to think about how expensive it is.

“Rare grape.”

Riku only notices the man behind her when he speaks up, her heart jumping in surprise when she turns to see the other half of the duo she did not want to be around tonight.

“Rare, yes, but amazing when you find a good bottle.” Riku is glad she has a few drinks in her, as her reply definitely wouldn’t have been as calm without them.

Suguru Geto plops down on the seat beside Riku, eyes holding hers as he does so. He wears a deep red shirt and a gray suit that was nearly black, his suit jacket tossed on the bar stool on the opposite side of him to reveal the red dress shirt that’s fabric is rolled up to reveal his sleeves of colorful dragon tattoos beneath which stretch all the way up to his neck. His hands were clothed in black leather gloves, “You’re right about that.” He agrees, lips curing in a small smirk as his small black eyes seemed to smile at her, “What are you doing in here?” He questions. Geto quickly diverts his attention to the bartender and taps his glass for a refill of whatever whiskey he’s drinking.

“Just needed a breather.”

Geto eyes quickly dart around around the room before refocusing on Riku, “You got a bodyguard?”

Riku rubs her fingers over the stem of her wine glass when it’s placed in front of her, “Yes.” She sighs out, “But I can handle myself.”

Geto chuckles at Riku’s response, not expecting her to be so offended by the question, “Just looking out for you, sweetheart. This is a dangerous place.” He takes a closer look at her, before raising a brow, “Ozaki family, right?”

Riku’s eyes widen in genuine surprise by the fact that he knows, sure they hadn’t personally met before, “Yeah… how’d you know?”

He lifts a finger from his glass to poke in her direction as the bartender refills it, “Your posture. I know a dancer’s body when I see one.” He takes a swig after his glass is topped off.

Riku isn’t sure why Geto’s words make her blush, but they do. She takes a sip of wine to hide it.

“What’s your name?”

She doesn’t dare lie again, “Riku.”

“What characters do you use?”

“Dignity, or awe-inspiring for the ‘Ri’ and sky for the ‘ku.’”

“That’s fitting. You’re gorgeous.” Geto’s smirk grows, but only for a moment. His smile softens as he leans over, closing a lot of the space between them. Riku is sort of startled by how intimate the other is able to make something as trivial as a greeting. Geto pokes his hand in her direction, the words spilling so soft and kindly from his mouth that they truly feel like a compliment, “Very nice to meet you, Riku. Call me Suguru.” Geto’s long black hair falls over his shoulder and Riku gets a whiff of his cologne. Of course, he smells great.

“Nice to meet you, Suguru.” Riku slowly shakes Geto’s hand, internally screaming. She could not take being so close to the drug clan’s leader for this long. Though it was just a greeting, her heart was doing backflips out of surprise, attraction, fear…? She’s unsure of which one; perhaps all three. First Gojo, now him?

“Tell me about yours-” Geto starts, but both of their thoughts are silenced by the sound of an automatic gun shooting into the air of the main ballroom.

Their eyes widen, and Riku is frozen in her seat with fear. Through the small opening of the door, she’s able to spot suited men with rifles enter the ballroom en masse, the whole room beginning to stir with yells and screams. The thunder of a hundred footsteps sounds as yakuza leaders, wives, and their adult children trample towards the main doors.

Before she realizes it, Geto is already at the side of the door in a safe position. He retrieves his handgun from his waistband and holds it expertly between his hands, ready to shoot anything or anyone that may enter the side room they were in.

The bartender and few other folks in the room had already fled, leaving just the two of them.

“You need to get out of here gorgeous.” Geto says, nodding towards the exit opposite to the door he currently stands by – that leads to the great ballroom where gunshots continuously sound. Riku is still frozen.

“Riku? Riku!” When she snaps out of her daze, Geto is at her side, her arm in his tight grasp, “I said you need to get out of here!” He shouts over the screams and shots in the ballroom. Wasn’t this supposed to be a weaponless event?!

“B-But my family!!”

“You better hope your bodyguard is protecting them,” He begins, but is cut off when two men notably from the Zenin clan appear, guns raised in Geto’s direction.

Geto doesn’t hesitate, using one hand to move Riku behind his back to shield her and the other to quickly shoot down the two men, hitting one in the hand and the other in his abdomen.

Riku watches in horror as their blood begins to spread over the marble floor, the color draining from her face.

“Zenin clan? What the fuck…?” Geto trails off in thought, not scared like Riku but equally astonished by this recent turn of events.

The two of them are both alarmed when Gojo barges through a third door Riku didn’t notice before, the white-haired man’s black spectacles now gone and his suit a bit disheveled – most likely from fighting.

His piercing blue eyes dart to Riku in confusion, “You…?” He shakes the distraction from his head before looking over at his friend, breathing heavily from previously running.

“The fuck is going on, Satoru??!”

“It’s Toji. Toji and a bunch of muscle from the Zenin clan are staring an uprising.” He walks closer to his friend and Riku, who’s still tucked behind his Geto’s back.

“Fuck.” Geto releases Riku to roughly run a hand through his hair.

“The hell are you doing here?!” Gojo peers down at Riku in confusion, anger, and concern, but mostly anger, “Your family’s already outside!”

Riku was relieved to at least hear that and opens her mouth, about to explain herself; Geto cuts her off, “We need to get her the fuck out of here.” He says, surprisingly calm.

Gojo releases an exasperated sigh, shaking his head and looking at Riku in a pissed sort of way that explains everything he isn’t saying: that she would slow them down, “Jesus Christ, beautiful, you sure are fucking good at getting your ass into trouble.” He grabs her arm, pulling her into his side before starting to make his way towards the 3rd door he’d just entered through that leads to a connecting meeting space.

Gojo and Geto are on high alert as they maneuver though the space, stopping behind tables and desks to occasionally scan the room for any hidden intruders. When a bald man in a bright orange suit enters, Gojo tosses Riku into Geto, and she yelps. Geto’s thick tattooed arm locks around her waist and pulls her into him as his friend handles the bald man with a few powerful punches and a harsh kick to his side. The man falls to the floor, immediately falling unconscious.

This continues through a series of connecting rooms, Riku practically being thrown between Gojo and Geto as they punched and shot their way through the mansion, most likely aiming for the building’s back exit. Geto feels Riku’s body tremble with fear one of the times he’s holding her and can’t help but feel for her. It’s obvious she isn’t used to this kind of violence and if this is what it means to be a member of one of the higher ranked families, then Riku wants no parts of it.

“Don’t worry, babe. We got you.” He tries to reassure her, briefly squeezing the arm he had wrapped around her waist while Gojo took out a duo of men in black suits.

Riku vaguely feels her phone vibrate from inside her clutch but it’s the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. She looks up at Geto, who’s eyes were still scanning the room. Riku could tell the soft smile on his lips was directed to her and nodded.

Suddenly, a side door busts open with a loud bang and five men pour in with guns drawn.

“Shit, beautiful, maybe not…” Suguru says so only Riku can hear.

“Everyone, hands up!” One of the armed men shout, pointing his gun in the direction of Gojo, who pushes his arms into the air in mock surrender.

“Hey, now, why don’t we settle this the old-fashioned way?” He asks with a smirk, as he was currently unarmed.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” The main man says, ignoring Satoru’s offer as fighting the strongest yakuza in Tokyo hand-to-hand was basically the same thing as letting him win, “Keep your hands up.”

Three of the men point their guns in Geto and Riku’s direction, “You two, too! Drop the gun, Geto!”

Geto does as the men say, allowing the silver handgun to thump to the floor before pushing his hands in the air. Riku follows suit, swiftly hiding her phone between her breasts before discarding her clutch altogether and raising her hands in the air.

“Out!” The fifth man commands, motioning with his gun for the three of them to exit the room and return to the main banquet hall.

The three of them slowly trail out and are led through the now completely abandoned ballroom - except for the five Zenin muscle that brought them here and one other man. Riku can tell the man is ripped just from his broad back alone. He turns and Riku sees the man she’d only heard rumors about prior to this moment.

A wicked grin spreads across his face at the sight of Gojo and Geto, and he starts to laugh, smile curving the large gash-like scar at the corner of his mouth. Toji. The undoubtedly powerful man wore a black suit like the bulk of his men, but it was visibly far more expensive than the rest. The tailored clothing just barely contained the thickness of his muscled form.

“Ah, just the people I’ve been meaning to see.”

“Awful to see you too, asshole.” Gojo replies with a smirk.

“What the fuck do you want now, Toji?” Geto asks, a look of disgust on his face. Guns still pointed at them so the three kept their hands raised.

“Well money of course, for one, but before that,” his eyes move to Riku. He walks over to her, a lustful, downright disgusting look in his eyes, “who do we have here?” He smooths his calloused, scar-littered fingers under Riku’s chin, trailing them down to her chest. She tries to push the man away, but he quickly grabs both her wrists in one of his hands, smirk only growing as Riku scowled up at the tall, bulky man.

“She’s no one,” Satoru starts, trying to protect her, “just a low rank clan family member. This isn’t about her.”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m not no one…” Riku starts, only realizing what Gojo was trying to do after the words slip from her lips. Her eyes widen.

Toji laughs again, closing the space between the two of them, “I like this one… She’s got some spunk to her.” Toji glances to Gojo and Geto with an evil look, “Would be fun to break her.”

“Toji you-” Gojo begins to move but freezes to the click of a handgun being loaded beside his ear.

“Whoa there, careful! Wouldn’t want to lose your brains now, would you?” Toji shouts, tone both overdramatic and disgusting, “Now, back to you, pretty…” He returns his gaze to Riku. Even if she’s no one to Gojo and Geto, Toji likes fucking with the duo’s sense of justice and knows they’d try to protect her regardless, “What’s your name?”

Riku spits in his face before responding, “None of your fucking business, prick.” She grumbles in anger, attitude as bad as ever. A small, satisfied smirk finds her lips as she watches her spit roll down Toji’s scarred face.

Geto exchanges looks with his friend, his exasperated expression saying everything words didn’t need to: Is this bitch crazy? Spitting at Toji??!

Toji’s grin turns into an unsatisfied look, clicking his tongue at Riku’s actions, “Now that’s not the answer I was looking for…” He shakes his head, removing his trailing fingers from Riku’s body before brutally smacking his palm over Riku’s cheek with a hard thump.

Riku’s head twists to the side, and she immediately begins to taste blood in her mouth as it is, without question, the strongest slap she’s ever received in her life. Pain jolts in the bones of her neck and she already begins to feel the skin of her face bruise and swell.

Toji grabs Riku’s face, and she feels like he could crush her skull in his hand if he wanted to. A tear streams down her swollen check at the intense pain. The man with spiky black hair repeats himself, an angered look in his eyes in response to Riku’s disrespectful action, “Your name.” He demands.

“Ymvr…” Riku mutters, barely able to speak with Toji’s grip on her jaw.

“What was that?” He leans in closer to the girl with a smirk as she writhes in pain, ear pushing closer to her lips.

“Your mother.” She finally manages, using Toji’s grip on her hands to steady herself as she quickly raises her legs, the bulky man now unintentionally holding her weight in the air as she swiftly sends the strongest kick she can manage to his balls.

“Agh!!” Toji’s face twists and he yells in agony, both him and Riku collapsing to the floor.

Gojo and Geto exchange looks again, both using the surprise of this situation as an opportunity to take out the two men directly behind each of them, first twisting and jabbing their arms to steal their guns away. They quickly make work of the rest of the five men, shooting some in non-vital places and kicking others.

All the while, Toji is groaning from the floor, “You bitch…!” He spits between clenched teeth, hands cupping his crotch.

Riku stumbles to her feet, abandoning her one remaining high heel before making a dash for the back door, “Coming?” She questions as she quickly breezes past Gojo and Geto, who had just finished kicking the last of the Zenin muscle.

“Yeah, let’s get the fuck outta here.” Gojo says with a final kick, and the two run out the door behind Riku.

“Uhh, car?!” Riku half asks, half yells once they’re outside, praying one of the two men had one nearby.

“Mhm, this way,” The dark of the night sky temporarily camouflages the men outside of Geto’s red shirt and Gojo’s white hair, that is, until Riku’s eyes adjust. Gojo reaches forward, “Matter of fact…” he grabs Riku’s waist and throws her over his shoulder, already beginning to move in an all-out sprint.

Riku yelps at suddenly being manhandled, now only able to see the white of Geto’s smirk as he ran behind Gojo. He thought this was funny?!

“What are you doing?!” She whisper-yells.

“Sorry, babe, easier to move this way.” Gojo gives the back of Riku’s thigh a small smack, that makes her face turn bright red with embarrassment.

Geto tries to hold back a laugh but fails after seeing the look on Riku’s face.

Finally they arrive at a large garage and Gojo hits a code into a keypad at the side of the building, Riku still over his shoulder. The door slowly rises off the ground and they slip in, Gojo grabbing the keys to his Lamborghini Urus before unlocking the doors.

Riku is thrown into the back seat and before she can get her bearings together, the engine is starting and the SUV wheels screech forward from a halt and out of the driveway.

Geto looks back at Riku from the passenger seat, “Buckle up, Riku, this guy’s a shit driver.” He smirks.

“That’s not true, I’m a great driver. Especially in these conditions—“ Gojo says with a sharp turn of the wheel and suddenly they’re speeding through the grass of the courtyard. Riku hears a few gunshots sound in the distance and buckles up before putting her head down. There's the yelling of a few Zenin clan men and the gunshots continue, a few bullets even piercing the back of the window, but none pass through.

Gojo chuckles when he quickly glances at Riku in the rear-view window, “It’s bulletproof, babe.” He explains, then takes another sharp turn to a roughly 400-meter-long driveway that leads to the main road.

Riku slowly sits up, worriedly looking out each of the windows before seeing that they were finally at a good enough distance from the Gojo estate. She takes a shaky, deep breath to calm herself down, almost wanting to cry at everything that had just transpired.

“Hey,” Geto’s tattooed arm reaches back, and he brushes his leather-covered thumb over Riku’s swollen red cheek, “You alright, beautiful?”

She looks up at him, the fear finally beginning to fade from her eyes. She’s safe with them. Riku nods, shakily.

“What a night!” Gojo laughs, “I mean who the fuck was expecting that?”

“Right?” Geto grins at his friend.

Riku furrows her bows, “You both think it’s funny? All those people hurt and in danger?!”

Gojo’s smile fades, “Oh no, that? That was absolutely fucked up… Also you don’t think I’m upset they pulled that shit in my house?” He switches from anger to charm so quick it’s almost scary, “But come on, Riku, that ‘your mother’ line was fucking priceless and you know it.” Gojo smirks again.

Geto laughs, still looking back at her from the front passenger seat, “You’re a legend, Riku. I don’t know how many people living can say they kicked Toji in the balls.”

Gojo laughs but his hand grips the gearshift so hard that his knuckles are white. He isn’t kidding; Riku understands that Gojo is probably the angriest yakuza in Tokyo tonight.

Riku joins in on their laughter with a small giggle, trying to ease the mood.

Geto turns back around to face the front but squeezes Riku’s thigh before looking to his friend, “Satoru, let’s get her some ice and take her home.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees and adjusts his mirror to get a better look at Riku, “fucked to see a pretty face bruised up like that.” He pauses, thinking for a moment, “You hungry at all, beautiful?”

“Starving.” Riku admits, regretting not having eaten her meal at the gala.

“Good, ‘cause I know a place and got a few calls to make.”

Geto looks at his friend knowingly, “You need some of my men?”

Gojo shakes his head and lowers his tone, giving Geto a hard look, “Not in front of her. She’s already in the mix of things enough as it is.”

Geto nods.

Gojo raises his voice again, “We’ll take you to one of our favorite spo-"

He’s cut off by Riku’s phone that loudly vibrates in her chest. She’d forgotten it was there. Riku retrieves the iPhone from inside her bra and sees ‘NANAMI’ flash across the screen. She quickly slides her finger across to talk. Before she can say anything—

“Riku! Fuck, finally!! Where are you?!!” He yells through the line.

“Nanami, I’m good, I’m fine… I’m in the car with Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo.”

“You’re what!?”

“It’s fine! They’re going to take me home, okay?”

“Is that Nanamin? Tell him I say hi!” Gojo happily beams, shouting from the driver’s seat.

Apparently Nanami hears that because he groans, “Jeez, Ri, what the hell happened?!”

Riku sighs, “A lot. But the gist is… Toji slapped me in the face, I kicked him in the balls, and we got away.”

“You WHAT??!?!!”

Riku laughs awkwardly, “But we got away and things are fine for now. They’re gonna take me home after we stop and get some ice for my face.”

Nanami is silent for a moment, and Riku can sense his anger through the phone, “Put Satoru on the phone, right fucking now.”

Riku hands her iPhone to Gojo, who quickly takes it and answers with a bright, bubbly tone, “Nanamin! How are you?”

“Look. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, or what business you have to do to clean this shit up, but if Riku comes back here tonight with anything more than a bruised cheek, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Gojo smiles at the seriousness in Nanami’s tone, “Wow, Kento, I didn’t know you cared about your job so much… What are you in love with her or something?” Gojo grins over at Geto in the passenger seat, “Yeah, yeah, Riku delivery service is on the way.” He glances back at her for a moment before refocusing on the road, “We won’t let anything happen to her. But you know, it’s the fault of her smart-ass mouth that made Toji slap her, anyways.” He shrugs.

“…That unfortunately sounds about right.”

“Well, okay, Nanamin! You’re kind of breaking up,” Gojo shouts, turning up the music from the car stereo as he held the phone between his head and shoulder, “so, talk to ya later!” Once he’s finished increasing the volume to near-max levels, Gojo retrieves the phone once more and hits ‘end’ on the call before tossing it back to Riku, who swiftly clasps it between her two hands.

Riku rolls her eyes and sits back into her seat, knowing she was in for a wild ride in more ways than one.